Devil's Cry

by Shayne Silvers

  I stared in horror, suddenly realizing what was going on—why they were all gagged. If the hostages bit down, the vial would break. And the vial had seemed big enough that even the slightest pressure would be enough to do the deed, forcing the hostages to frantically keep their mouths wide open.

  What hellish potion was within? Something explosive? Poisonous? Acidic?

  I carefully began to drift closer, sliding through the ceiling unimpeded, wondering how quickly I could kill all four threats, and if it would be fast enough for them not to somehow magically trigger the potions lodged inside the hostages’ mouths. Could they do that?

  I had no idea.

  “Good evening, children,” a different, broader and shorter witch said, sounding like a loving grandmother. “My name is Beatrice. Please stand.” Natalie and Victoria’s eyes danced with impotent fury, and the three of them stood, moving carefully so as not to jostle the vials. Beatrice clapped delightedly. “Excellent. Now, bite down for me if you’re uncertain about your current predicament,” she said sweetly.

  Thankfully, each of the women had been paying close enough attention to Beatrice’s words, rather than instantly obeying out of fear.

  Beatrice harrumphed, sounding disappointed. “No? Well, if you had, I suppose this conversation would have ended rather abruptly, what with all of us blown to smoldering globs of unidentifiable body parts. Before you do anything clever, rest assured that I can snap my fingers and blow us all to hell as well. So, we have that going for us.”

  I snarled silently. The witches could kill them at any point with a simple gesture.

  A thunderous crack from high above the staircase interrupted Beatrice, and the youngest witch’s head simply exploded. She dropped her vial as she simply folded to her knees, where it exploded in a vertical column of blazing purple fire. It winked out within seconds, leaving behind a perfect circle of charred stone, and absolutely no evidence of a body.

  “We’ve got all day, bitches!” Poole’s familiar voice shouted down, his words echoing within the hollow tower. Remembering the gun that I’d seen him carrying earlier, I felt a rush of hope. He was shooting at them!

  The surviving witches cursed angrily, but they didn’t move, apparently knowing the stairs protected their position. The second witch snorted indelicately at their dead ally. “Idiot child.”

  And that was all she had to say about that.

  “Tell that beast of a man and his associate with the gun to stand down,” the third witch snarled, leaning close to tug sharply on Natalie’s earlobe, willing to risk an explosion if it sated her appetite for petty cruelty. “We only came for the shaman. We know he fled up the stairs, too cowardly to face his fate. So, I will say it one more time. Tell those foolish men to stand down and we shall let you live.”

  Natalie glared back at her with an almost divine hatred. The witches were obviously lacking in common sense, not seeming to realize that their prisoners couldn’t talk, even if they wanted to.

  Beatrice waddled up to Victoria, sensing that Natalie wasn’t going to help her associate. She spun a short, wicked dagger in her palm, and then she abruptly buried it to the hilt into Victoria’s inner thigh, leaning in close with a loud sniffing sound as if she was attempting to inhale her victim’s agony. Victoria screamed through her gag, her eyes shooting wide open as blood instantly gushed down her leg. She was unable to even clamp her mouth closed against the pain.

  40

  I stared in horror, knowing I didn’t dare move unless I could get them all in one heartbeat. But Victoria’s wound was deep. I could scent it in the air. If she didn’t get help in the next few minutes, she would bleed out.

  “Remember,” Beatrice murmured into Victoria’s ear, still clutching the hilt of the dagger buried into the vampire hunter’s thigh, “one wrong move and we all die. I’m willing to sacrifice myself for my grand mistress. Can you say the same?” Beatrice gave a slight upwards tug on the dagger, chuckling at Victoria’s instant scream. Victoria shuddered, her foot slipping in the pool of blood forming at her feet. Beatrice continued in that same sweet voice. “No? Then be a dear and give up the shaman. You can keep worshipping your pathetic vampire master, whatever his name is,” she muttered, obviously not knowing my name and not seeming to care.

  Which was strange. My name wasn’t a secret, and I’d killed some of them. And their kittens.

  Beatrice finally grunted, tugging the dagger free with an annoyed sigh. “Have it your way.” Victoria staggered, tears streaming down her face, even as she blinked sleepily, struggling to remain upright—in so much pain that her body was attempting to simply pass out. Beatrice cleared her throat and then shouted up towards Poole. “We’re coming up the stairs to take what is ours. You’ll have to shoot through these women to stop us!”

  And then Beatrice shoved Victoria towards the stairs, almost knocking the vampire hunter down as she again slipped in her own blood. Beatrice gripped her by the waist of her pants, saving her at the last moment. Then she forced Victoria up the steps, ducking behind her for cover. My heart raced as I stared at her bloody footprints, snarling silently. Turn around, turn around, turn around…

  Isabella went next, trembling with fear as her witch guided her after Beatrice—a few steps back so that Isabella couldn’t attack Beatrice from behind.

  I waited, my entire form quivering with anticipation. If I waited too long, I would risk Beatrice rounding the corner on the second rotation, able to see my attack coming. But Victoria moved slowly, dragging her wounded leg to leave an alarming trail of dark blood in her wake.

  Which prevented me from moving too early. The timing had to be perfect.

  The last witch finally turned Natalie around, and shoved her ahead.

  I saw the whites of Victoria’s eyes rounding the stair above as I zipped towards the lowermost witch, materializing just in time to decapitate her with such precise violence that she made no sound—just a spray of blood.

  I silently lowered the body and then spun Natalie around to face me. I ignored her shocked look as I kissed her forehead while slicing off her gag. Then I held a finger to my lips and pointed at the witch ahead. She carefully extracted the vial from her mouth as I shifted back to mist beside her.

  The werewolf stalked her prey with the Devil over her shoulder.

  I waited anxiously, ready to burst forward for the final witch, Beatrice, the moment Natalie had the second witch out of commission. Natalie moved like the wind, exploding forward to repeat the same attack I’d used on her captor, but I didn’t stay to watch, already zipping up the stairs. Beatrice suddenly paused just ahead, swiveling her neck to look back over her shoulder.

  I materialized before her and decapitated the witch in the same fashion as the others. She spun at the force of my blow, her grip on Victoria’s waistband jerking the dazed vampire hunter off balance and causing her to twist and slip in her own blood, which was proving to be almost as treacherous as the witches. I dove forward, catching her in my arms at the last second, stunned that she hadn’t clamped her jaw closed in the process.

  She watched me, looking delirious and sleepy as I gently sat her down on the stairs. I carefully sliced off the gag and slipped the fingers of my clean hand into her mouth, scooping out the vial with extreme caution. I flung it over the side of the stairs and shuddered in relief as it exploded down below. “We’re safe!” I shouted, sensing Natalie and Isabella stealthily creeping up behind me.

  But Victoria was still in danger.

  I used my hands to quickly spread her legs wide because the gaping wound on her inner thigh was too high up for me to reach with her hips in the way. I slid my grip to the backs of her knees and lifted them up over her ribs, bending her body double. Then I sunk my fangs into her wound as quickly and gently as I could. Licking her wound would only close it up. She needed something more.

  She needed her blood replenished. Clean, pure, blood. And I only knew one way to get it into her fast enough to save her life.

  I didn
’t drink a drop from her body.

  Instead, I thought of five simple words—a prayer. I kept them on the tip of my tongue, fueling them with my blood reserves until I felt my lips tingling.

  Then I sent out my five words—my prayer—to the only one who could save her.

  Castle Ambrogio.

  She’s mine! Please save her! I begged Castle Ambrogio.

  In my mind, the words rang out, screaming through the ether to the bond I’d just reestablished with Castle Ambrogio. I felt her purr warmly, and I felt the Nephilim grow concerned, unaware of what they were suddenly feeling, but knowing that it was me and that I was in distress.

  But Castle Ambrogio understood me and was eager to assist her long-lost master. She knew how much losing Selene had hurt me long ago. How the cruel, petty Olympians had ultimately won, keeping us apart. She knew I couldn’t bear to lose another love.

  Especially with my cursed offspring trapped within her walls—Dracula, who had done everything in his power to overthrow his figurative father despite all I’d done for him.

  Having me back, finally, no longer fearing that I was dead, Castle Ambrogio now understood the true scope of that betrayal and how she had been an accomplice to my pain, harboring my enemies, even if she had been unaware.

  With a mother’s love, she embraced me—her touch a silent apology for her previously unknown role in my suffering.

  I felt her essence swell within me, the essence and memory of every drop of blood ever spilled within my castle. Through me—my fangs buried within Victoria’s thigh—the castle assessed Victoria’s blood like a connoisseur sampling a vintage wine…

  And she suddenly knew exactly what type of blood my immortal devil needed.

  Through memory and magic, and the awareness of every drop of blood ever spilled within her walls, my castle brewed the perfect amalgam of power for Victoria Helsing, bringing it to life with a concussive crack of lightning that seemed to strike simultaneously at Central Park and the Statue of Liberty.

  And Castle Ambrogio sent that newly-birthed power through my fangs, directly into Victoria’s body. The exact opposite of what I normally did when biting her.

  Victoria gasped, latching both hands onto the back of my head and squeezing tightly as the metaphysical amalgam of blood flowed through my fangs and into her, somehow replenishing Victoria with the spirit of blood rather than the real thing.

  In a way, it was infinitely more powerful. Victoria cried out with an echoing scream as pure energy raced into her bloodstream, infusing her with a small taste of the almost depthless power of Castle Ambrogio.

  All too soon, the transfer of energy faded, and I felt Castle Ambrogio drift away in satisfaction. Victoria panted loudly and I extracted my fangs. I still held her knees spread and tucked back to the sides of her ribs, bending her body double so that I still had the best access to heal the actual wound with a lick. As my tongue trailed across her flesh, I looked up into her eyes to make sure she was okay.

  She stared back at me with a profound look of awe on her face.

  “Now that is my kind of hero,” Natalie chuckled, eyeing our positions—me kneeling between Victoria’s legs with my head buried deep. “Saving and sexing in equal measure.”

  I released Victoria’s legs and rose to my feet, casting Natalie a grin. “All in a day’s work.”

  Victoria slowly rose, propping herself up with her hands as she shook her head from the bewildering experience. “What…was that?” she whispered. “I feel amazing.”

  I smiled. “That was my castle saying hello. I’ll take you there soon, but first I need to check on Dr. Stein and Nosh.” Because I could still hear the sounds of pitched battle outside the statue.

  And a fear had come to the forefront of my mind while I was connected to Castle Ambrogio. Or maybe an understanding. And it began to make a lot more sense now that my concern for Victoria had evaporated. It was almost as if my castle was trying to warn me of something I hadn’t considered.

  Victoria nodded, sensing the desperate need in my eyes. “Okay, Sorin.”

  I wrapped her up in a tight hug, caressing the back of her head. Then I pulled back and kissed her on the mouth, inhaling her startled gasp.

  I pulled away, grinning at her stunned expression. Then I spun to face Natalie, who looked equally confused, even though she was smiling. I stepped closer, cupping her cheeks in both hands. Then I leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, relishing her instant shudder.

  Then I pulled away just as abruptly. “Now I can see to Dr. Stein.”

  “Talk about high and dry,” Natalie whispered, breathlessly.

  “You better find Nosh and immediately send him down here,” Isabella muttered, folding her arms. “Because if I don’t get a kiss like that in the next hour, I’m throwing him off the top of the statue.”

  I bowed, grinning at the frustrated look on her face. “As you wish.”

  I wasted no time, shifting into a cloud of mist and racing through the air to the top of the stairs. It was time to wake up my children.

  41

  Hyde and Poole were standing guard at the top of the stairs, blocking the entrance to the Crown. I stilled myself to hover a pace away from them, hoping to show them that I wasn’t a threat. They cried out, and Poole swung a pistol my way, firing rapidly. The bullets tore through the mist without harm. He continued shooting anyway, just to be thorough. I shifted my attention to the room beyond, ignoring his efforts, but also to let him see that I obviously wasn’t hostile. Him running out of bullets would also give me time to actually explain myself in a few moments.

  Through the windows, I saw lightning stab down at the earth in explosive strikes, seemingly intent on destroying everything but the Statue of Liberty.

  Thunder roared in a constant peal that made my vaporous form vibrate and ripple.

  I spotted movement in the room beyond, so I zipped right past Hyde and Poole, ignoring their furious shouts. I coalesced back into my normal form and lifted my hands above my head as I spotted Dr. Stein seated on the floor beside one of the towers, looking a little wild around the eyes. “It’s me, Sorin.”

  Hyde and Poole stopped shooting abruptly, or they had finally run out of bullets, letting me know that I was no longer in immediate danger of friendly fire.

  I knelt down before Dr. Stein and gripped her hands. “What happened?” Because with this much lightning, my vampires should have been brought to life a hundred times over.

  Dr. Stein stared at me with a haunted look on her face. “Not normal,” she rasped. “That lightning is alive,” she whispered, her voice barely a croak.

  Her words made my skin crawl, especially since they seemed to support my own budding theory—the fear that had come unbidden to my mind while I had been connected with my castle and Victoria.

  “Rest, Frankie,” I murmured, squeezing her hands again. “We still need your brain. Don’t get lazy on me.”

  Her eyes flashed with brief, indignant rage before she saw my smile. She nodded, too tired to waste her energy on arguing or reprimanding—which proved how exhausted she was. She set her hand on a lever protruding from the machine. A blinking red light seemed connected to the lever. “When it turns green…I’m ready,” she said determinedly.

  A sharp crack of lightning seemed to strike the actual Statue, and my heart skipped a beat in a decidedly strange manner. I glanced at the red light by Dr. Stein’s lever, waiting for it to turn green. It didn’t, and I frowned.

  The thunder and lightning abruptly stopped between one moment and the next. I slowly turned my head to look out the window at a black sky.

  “That…isn’t possible,” Poole said nervously.

  “Lot of that going around,” Hyde murmured. “In the wise words of Mr. Miyagi, bolt on, bolt off, Poole-san.”

  I had no idea what Hyde was talking about, but Poole’s blank stare made me feel better about not catching the reference. I continued to stare out the window, my pulse quickening as I silently went over my new
est theory in my head, connecting dots and crossing others out. Selene had tried to warn me about the Olympians interfering in my plans. As I stared out at the eerily dark sky, my theory unbroken after my analysis, a name I had previously dismissed kept striking me like…

  Well, bolts of lightning.

  Zeus.

  I’d initially dismissed his involvement, unable to wield the necessary hubris required to truly believe that the King of the Olympians might actually care enough about me to want to kill me. Not when I already had Apollo, Artemis, and Hades giving it their best efforts.

  But…Zeus was their direct superior, so perhaps he’d had enough of their excuses, no longer willing to tolerate their constant failures staining the family reputation. And Selene had warned that my enemies would do anything to stop me tonight, even turning some mysterious him against me. Had she been trying to warn me about Zeus?

  No wonder she hadn’t used names.

  And the lightning had disappeared so quickly. Nature didn’t work that fast. Dr. Stein had even pointed it out. It was almost as if a certain god of lightning had simply decided to stop throwing bolts down upon us. And it had been turning off and on all night.

  A banging crash made me jump to my feet with a hiss, baring my fangs and unsheathing my claws, as I spun towards the open side door that led up to the torch. I froze, blinking in surprise to find Nosh sprawled out across a pile of cable, groaning in pain. A smoking, ceremonial head dress sat beside him, the feathers mostly burned away. “Ow.”

  Hyde and Poole muttered dark curses, but kept their distance as I rushed over, gripping the shaman’s shoulders. “Nosh!” I said, jostling him. “What happened?”

  “S-Sorin?” he mumbled woozily.

  “Yes, Nosh. I’m right here.”