Sepia Blue-Sisters: A Sepia Blue Thriller

by Orlando A. Sanchez

  “Where is the one who holds my blood?” the black asked.

  “I stand here in her place and deliver this scum to you, as much as I would like to rip his throat out myself,” Anna hissed. “You will honor the pact.”

  “You are not behind the wards, assassin,” the black said.

  “You will honor the pact or I will end him now,” she said.

  Anna looked at the black and he returned the stare before giving her a nod and a growl.

  “We will honor the pact,” he said. “Release him to us.”

  Anna pushed Kala forward, past the safety of the wards, and stepped back behind them as the Dreadwolves pounced and tore Kala to pieces. His screams stopped when the black clamped his jaws around Kala’s throat and tore it apart.

  The black howled and growled as the pack dispersed with parts of Kala into the night. It stood on the other side of the wards and looked at Anna.

  “I don’t know if I can bring her to you, she is too ill,” Anna said. “The poison is moving too fast.”

  The black Dreadwolf jumped over the wards as his coat burst into flame. It dropped to the ground, rolled, put out the flames, and stood, singed but whole.

  “Take me to your packmate,” it said. “I cannot remain here long.”

  They ran into the Keep and found the bed where Shanti lay. Mercy stepped back, surprised, when she saw the Dreadwolf. Reed drew his gun, but Mercy put a hand on his wrist to stop him. The black gnawed on its forepaw, drawing blood. It lifted the leg and let the blood drop into Shanti’s mouth.

  “He must leave now or the wards will kill him,” Mercy said. “I don’t know how he has lasted this long.”

  “I think that’s a great idea,” Reed muttered. “The sooner he’s gone the better.”

  “The pact is fulfilled,” the black said to Anna. “When next we meet, it will be as enemies.”

  Anna gave him a short nod and stepped to the side.

  The Dreadwolf bounded out of the room and left the Keep, leaving a trail of smoke as the wards tried to destroy him.

  “Could you check her?” Anna asked. “I have to know it worked.”

  Mercy glided over to Shanti’s side and placed a hand on her abdomen. After a few seconds, she nodded and smiled.

  “She will recover,” Mercy said. “Are you hurt?”

  Anna waved the question away.

  “Just a scratch,” she said. “Can I leave her here? I just need to find Marks now and finish this.”

  “Of course, but I don’t think you are in any condition to go anywhere,” Mercy said as Anna stumbled. Mercy grabbed her by the waist and held her up. When she pulled her hand away, it was covered in blood.

  “It’s not serious,” Anna said before she collapsed on the floor.

  THIRTY-FOUR

  “You want me to give you what?” Hep asked as he rubbed his rugged, weatherworn face. “Say that again, slowly.”

  The large man was sitting at a workbench. His entire upper body was covered in intricate designs. Some of them resembled Sepia’s own ink. His white hair was pulled back in a ponytail that ran down his back. The overalls he wore strained to cover his immense torso.

  Gan stepped to the large vault-like door and pushed it closed, locking them in the weapons vault—the most secure room in the Gray headquarters.

  “Did that thing have dinner?” Hep asked, eyeing Ursa.

  “His name is Ursa and he may need to stay here for a while until he gets his strength back,” Gan said. “I don’t think he has ever ported that many or that far from the park.”

  “Stay here?” Hep asked. “You mean in here with me?”

  Hep looked at Ursa, who lay in a corner asleep. Jas sat down next to the bear and looked at the assortment of weapons and gear attached to the walls and sitting on several of the workbenches.

  “I need you to focus, Hep,” Gan said. “I need a weapon that can hold its own against a named blade.”

  Hep looked at Gan and shook his head before giving a slight chuckle, which died on his lips a few seconds later.

  “You’re serious?” he asked. “The only weapon that can withstand a named blade is another named blade.”

  Sepia was standing at another workbench, looking over a map of the city.

  “That’s not an option for obvious reasons,” Gan said. “We would have to unbind a Hunter from their blade, which is usually a fatal process. Do you know a Hunter who would volunteer for that?”

  Hep shook his head as he looked warily at Sepia.

  “Is she okay?” Hep whispered as he looked at Sepia standing over the map with her eyes closed and running her hands over its surface.

  “No, not really,” Gan answered. “Think, Hep. There has to be a solution.”

  “If I had a year and maybe some alloyed titanium I could make a blade that would last a few minutes against a named blade,” he said. “I don’t want to state the obvious, but where is her blade?”

  “Right here,” Sepia said as she pointed down to the map. “My sword is right there.”

  Gan and Hep approached the workbench where Sepia stood.

  “How did she lose her sword to begin with?” Hep whispered to Gan.

  “I didn’t lose it,” Sepia answered. “It was stolen and now it’s there.”

  Sepia was pointing down at the large expanse of grass that was the lawn of Bryant Park.

  “What do you mean, it’s there?” Hep asked. “You can sense your sword from here?”

  “Yes, but it doesn’t make sense,” she said. “Why would it be in Bryant Park? There’s nothing there, except grass.”

  “How can you—how can she sense her sword from here?” Hep said as he looked at Gan. “No Hunter can do that.”

  “It’s not unheard of, though rare,” Gan said. “Bryant Park is not just grass.”

  “There’s a huge underground archive there,” said Jas from behind them. “I haven’t seen it, but I found the info on it.”

  “That information has been buried, classified, and hidden,” Gan said. “How did you know about this?”

  “On computers?” Jas said with a shrug. “Means not hidden at all. At least not to me.”

  “You are a dangerous young lady,” Gan said with a hint of admiration. “That was level-five encryption across several dark sites specifically broken to prevent detection.”

  “An archive?” Sepia whispered as she looked down at the map.

  “A sealed archive,” Gan said. “Full of dangerous artifacts.”

  “And my sword,” Sepia said. “Is this place like the archive under Home?”

  Gan shook his head. “This archive is older, one of the first,” he said. “We had to shut it down when the Unholy attacked it. The attack left it highly unstable.”

  “That’s where I need to go,” Sepia said. “How unstable is it?”

  “Whatever has your sword, I prefer it not see the light of day,” Gan said. “Unstable enough to collapse the archive—permanently.”

  “Not before I get my sword,” Sepia said.

  “Blueberry, you go and get your sword, but come daybreak that archive is going to be history,” Gan said, looking at his watch. “That gives you four hours to get your weapon and make it topside. Hep, give her your best weapon, and equip Jasmine too.”

  Jas stood up. “I don’t think I can be much help on this one,” she said. “I’m not a Hunter.”

  “Neither is she,” Gan said. “You’re trained as a Sister?”

  “But I haven’t run the gauntlet, I’m not ready, I’m just going to get in the way,” she said, her words rushed.

  “You will be fine. Sepia needs help, and the Hunters will not help her,” Gan said. “She needs Sisters now, she needs you.”

  Jas thought for a long while and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll go.”

  Gan’s phone rang and he answered it. His face became hard as he ended the call.

  “I need to step out for a moment,” he said, his words clipped. “Hep, get them ready. I’ll get you a ride
to Bryant Park. You have ten minutes.”

  *******

  “What was that about?” Sepia asked Hep. “I’ve never seen him look that angry.”

  “He was speaking to someone named Carter about finding the one,” Hep said as he tapped his ear. “Didn’t get much after that. Carter sounded excited. C’mon, I’ll get the two of you sorted.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  “We need to meet—now,” Lynn said and hung up her phone.

  She ran near the entrance of Columbus Circle but didn’t enter the park. The wards at the edge of the park gave off a dull orange glow in the night. A figure stood just inside the park as she stepped close.

  “You lied to me,” Lynn said. “He didn’t turn into a behemoth.”

  Dreadwolves sat next to the figure who remained in the shadows. Low growls filled the night as the figure patted the one closest to his leg.

  “I take it the keystone was placed with success?” Onyx said as he stepped into the light. “And I told you there was a chance he would undergo a full transformation.”

  “He almost fried me!” she yelled. “My part is done. I am finished. Do you have my payment?”

  Onyx clasped his hands behind him and nodded.

  The Dreadwolves bounded past the wards and attacked her, knocking her down. Onyx stepped close to her and looked down at her surprised face.

  “Once the keystone compromised the named blade, the wards lost a considerable amount of their potency,” he said. “Enough for the strongest of us to cross without harm.” He placed a finger on his chin in thought. “Now, as to your payment…”

  “You bastard,” she hissed as she sat up.

  He looked at the wolves. “I will show you one small mercy and make it quick, traitor,” he said. “It the least I can do.”

  “Don’t do me any favors,” she said and reached for her gun. “I hope you rot in hell.”

  A knife buried itself in her arm a split second later, causing her to scream and drop the weapon. Onyx stepped close to her.

  “I have lived in hell my entire existence,” he whispered before turning and walking away. “Kill her,” he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

  The Dreadwolves pounced. There were too many for her to fight them off. After several bites, the poison began to take effect. They tore into her and in minutes dragged her lifeless body deeper into the park.

  One of the Dreadwolves remained next to Onyx as he walked deep into the park.

  “Tell the others, the process has begun,” Onyx said. “Gather the strongest and find him. He is in the old archive. Use the tunnels and bring him to the rift.”

  The Dreadwolf bounded off and disappeared.

  “Tonight, Chimera, you will return to us,” Onyx whispered into the night. “Or we will burn this city to the ground.”

  THIRTY-SIX

  “You can use these tunnels to get to the old archive,” Hep said. “There is an extensive network of them under the city.”

  A geological map sat on another of the workbenches and they were leaning over it.

  “It looks like the two archives were connected at one time,” Sepia said. “Can we go from one to the other?”

  Hep shook his head. “Home blasted those tunnels long ago,” he said. “It was too much of a risk having them connected.”

  “What about these?” Jas asked, pointing to some lines on the map. “These look like they lead into the park.”

  “We won’t be using those,” Sepia said. “We can get into Bryant Park from the surface if we use the 42nd Street entrance.”

  Jas adjusted the guns on her hips. The pack on her back carried several pounds of explosive AP ammunition. Hep had outfitted them with enough weaponry to face a small army.

  Sepia tightened the straps of the scabbard she carried on her back. In the scabbard, she carried the finest weapon Hep could provide. She removed the sword to examine it one last time.

  “The balance is perfect, Hep,” she said. “Did you make this?” She lunged and swung it several times.

  “Yes, but it won’t last long against your sword or any Hunter blade for that matter,” he answered. “The process and wards used on those are gone. This is as close as you’re going to get—I named that one Lux.”

  “Lucks?” Jas asked. “Is it lucky? Do you have a lucky dagger, too?”

  “No, Lux as in light against darkness,” Hep said. “I thought you were a brain?”

  “I do tech, not swords,” Jas said. “Do you have a dagger I could use?”

  “She has one,” Hep said. “I warded it against the Unholy like I did the sword.”

  Sepia handed Jas her warded dagger and placed Lux back in the scabbard.

  “Thank you, Hep,” Sepia said. “For the ammo too.”

  Hep nodded. “You’ll have a better chance with that I think,” he said. “The explosive rounds will hurt and stop all but the largest or strongest. If you face one of those, use your best weapon.”

  “What’s that?” Jas asked, curious as she looked at the wards on her dagger.

  “Your legs,” Hep said. “You turn and run.”

  “Run?” Jas asked. “That’s our best weapon?”

  “When you’re facing a creature that can rip your arms off and beat you to death with them without blinking, that isn’t the moment to stand your ground and prove how badass you are,” Hep said. “That is the moment you pick to haul ass as fast as you can away from said creature.”

  “Where the hell is Gan?” Sepia asked.

  “Before he gets back, let me show you something I learned about the wards of the park,” Hep said as he pointed to his main desk. “I’ve been working on deciphering some of the wards from the obelisks you encountered when you fought Chimera.”

  “What did you discover?” Sepia asked.

  “You’ve heard of the rift, right?” he asked. “It’s a source of incredible power.”

  “I’m familiar with it,” she said, her voice on edge. “It gives the Unholy their powers.”

  “See, I don’t think it’s just the Unholy,” he said. “At least not according to some of the older texts and the writing on the obelisks.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The power of the rift may be the source of power for the Unholy—”

  “Not may be, it is,” Sepia said. “I spoke to it.”

  “You what?” Hep said, turning to look at her in disbelief. “You spoke to the power in the rift?”

  “The rift is sentient or at least the power within it is.”

  Hep rubbed his chin in thought.

  “That actually makes sense,” he said. “Have you ever felt your sword to be alive, to have a distinct consciousness?”

  “What are you saying?” she asked. “Are you saying they’re connected?”

  “I think so,” he said. “I think the rift not only powers the Unholy, but the wards and the named blades.”

  There are times when my sword feels alive, thought Sepia.

  “How can that be?” she asked. “Wouldn’t they negate each other? How can the same source power the wards, the Unholy, and the named blades?”

  “It’s not that hard to understand,” Jas said. “It sounds a lot like electricity. You can have many things on in one house but the source is the same. I can turn on a computer, charge my phone, warm up something in a microwave, and watch a show on television. Different things all drawing power from the same source.”

  “Very much like that except several orders of magnitude more powerful,” Hep said. “I’m still trying to figure it all out myself.”

  “It makes sense, except that none of my appliances are trying to kill me as they access this power, and the Unholy are,” Sepia added.

  “I didn’t say it was a perfect example,” Jas answered.

  “So if we close the rift do we shut down the Unholy?” Sepia asked.

  “I don’t know for sure,” he replied. “It’s never been done. It could shut down the wards and leave the Unholy untouched or ma
ke the named blades useless. I really don’t know.”

  “That doesn’t help much,” Sepia said. “I don’t even know if I can close the rift but if closing it leaves us defenseless against them, I’d rather not.”

  “There is one thing I can tell you from my research of the wards and the energy level surrounding the park,” Hep said as he pointed to a device on one of his workbenches. “The wards around the park are weaker. Whatever is going on with your sword has made the wards around the park measurably weaker since the second failsafe.”

  “What does that mean?” Jas asked. “How are they weaker?”

  “It means the stronger Unholy can escape the park now,” Sepia said as her eye began to glow. “It’s not good.”

  “I have something for that,” Hep said as he produced a new pair of wraparound glasses. “These are warded and equipped with Ward Ocs tech so they should hold up well unless you destroy them.”

  “Thanks, Hep,” Sepia said, putting on the glasses. “We need to go.”

  Sepia headed for the door.

  “Tell Gan—”she began, when the door opened and Gan stepped in.

  “Tell me what?” he said.

  “I’m going to the archive,” she said. “Is my bike still here?”

  “Garage, but I need a moment with Hep,” Gan said. “I’ll meet you there in five minutes. You have everything you need?”

  “No, I don’t,” she said. “Five minutes and then I’m gone.”

  Sepia headed to the garage with Jas behind her.

  *******

  “She seems upset,” Hep said. “I mean more than usual.”

  Gan nodded. “She is undergoing a change. Do you still have the Hunter restraints?” Gan asked. “I found the mole.”

  Hep rummaged through one of his desks and pulled out a thin pair of cuffs.

  “Who is it?” Hep asked.

  “Carter discovered it was Lynn,” Gan said as he slammed a fist on a workbench, cracking the surface.

  “I helped recruit and train her,” Gan said. “If she comes back here, I want you—and only you—to apprehend her until I return.”

  “I’m sorry,” Hep said.