by Eli Grant
“Tired of them stealing second place I’d imagine.”
“Only because the vampires carry them to ensure themselves an easy win. At any rate, the witches failed to do anything to the wolf champion and shot themselves in the foot by allowing the subhumanoids to compete as well.”
“Idiots. You know what’s worse? High Circle Magus Trefoil had the nerve to complain that we’d slighted the witches by not attempting to sabotage them this year.”
“Ugh. Witches. Is there anything they won’t try to turn into a ritual?”
“I just told him, why bother? You’re doing an excellent job of sabotaging yourself.”
I stole another breath while they were laughing, willing them to just fucking leave already. Instead, they wandered over to the right side of the room, directly in front of me, cutting off my exit while they wrinkled their noses at a set of old ceremonial werewolf war masks. I tried to creep backwards, only to realize one of the motherfuckers was standing on the hem of my dress. I knew that thing was going to screw me over sooner or later.
“God, is it still going?” one said. I could still hear Dee talking in the other room. I was surprised they hadn’t turned off the mike on her yet. “Ugly as sin and doesn’t know when to shut up. What a winning combination. And is it just me or is there something indecent about a creature like that wearing a dress that looks like it was made for a four year old girl?”
“It’s their hands that get to me. Those creepy little fingers.”
I struggled as quietly as possible to pull my dress out from under the man’s shoe, but I couldn’t pull hard enough without him noticing. If I could get loose I could maybe creep back around to the other side of the unicorn display and make it to the door, or at least find space to breathe. My lungs were on fire, my pulse throbbing in my head like a count down. Why wouldn’t these assholes just leave already?
“Their hands are about the only thing I like about them,” the other said with a little chuckle that made my stomach turn. “Surprisingly dexterous. Firm grip too.”
“Really, Redmond. I would never let one of those things put their hands on me.”
“It’s not as though they’re good for anything else. Might as well get some use out of them. And the man that dares put himself anywhere near a goblin’s mouth is either much braver or much more foolish than I.”
I was gonna be sick. I was going to reveal myself by throwing up on these asshole’s shoes, I swear to god. I tugged harder on my skirt and the one standing on it, Redmond, stumbled.
“You alright there?” the other asked as Redmond steadied himself on a display case. He was still on my dress, but his back was to me and for the second his friend was focused on him I was able to steal another breath, putting off the end just a little longer. My head was swimming. Even if I could hold my breath, I wasn’t going to be able to focus on holding the camouflage much longer.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Redmond waved him off in annoyance. “A bit lightheaded. Which Enclave supplied the drinks this evening? It’s the best I’ve ever had.”
I would have rolled my eyes if I hadn’t been distracted by my own panic. Drunk vampires were the worst. High-quality blood in enough quantity, especially if served in alcohol, could intoxicate vampires the way normal liquor never could, but it also tended to make them dumb and sloppy and all around even more annoying than normal.
“One of the Sumerian’s own, I believe. And that reminds me! How is that project we discussed?”
“Very promising! They’ve had a breakthrough at the lab. If they can replicate it, we’ll be in mass production within a decade.”
“Was it the mandrake after all?”
“Of course!”
“I knew it would be!”
I was just concentrating on holding my breath and my camouflage as long as I could by then, praying they’d fuck off before I passed out. I could hear Flint sheepishly announcing the troll’s wager. Great! Maybe these sons of bitches would leave when the fireworks started. Where was Trip? Where was Domino? This was not the right time for radio silence!
Redmond leaned closer to the other vampire to speak in a hushed tone that I was unfortunately close enough to hear.
“I tell you this in the strictest confidence,” he said. “But I’ve already sampled the first success, and I’m entirely sold. I’m announcing the retirement of my enclave in Tuscany this weekend. Going to bulldoze it all as soon as the livestock is cleared out and replace it with greenhouses.”
“The whole enclave?” his friend said, eyes wide. “But that enclave produces the highest quality Hosts in the country. The breeding stock alone is worth millions! You’d retire them all?”
“Without hesitation!” Redmond said, then paused strangely, a hand to his head. “Think of—just think of the money I’ll make on this new venture! If I can hold the monopoly, then all of—all vampire kind—goodness, what does the Sumerian feed those Hosts of his? I haven’t felt like this since the burning of Rome.”
He staggered, braced himself on the display case again.
“Maybe you should go and sit down?” his friend said with a concerned frown. “You look a bit green.”
“Nonsense,” Redmond said with a dismissive wave. “I’m f—”
He choked on his own words, and then on a wave of blood that bubbled past his lips. Not the clear plasma he’d been drinking in his champagne, but the thick black sludge that ran in his own veins.
“Redmond!” his friend shouted in surprise, and Redmond stumbled backwards, directly into me.
chapter
12
THE VAMPIRE’S HEEL IN MY chest as he tripped backwards over me knocked the breath out of me in a rush and my camouflage vanished just as Redmond collapsed across my lap. I’d never seen a dead vampire before, but looking down at Redmond’s staring eyes, watching the timelessness vanish from his face and leave it haggard with age, I was sure that’s what I was seeing. His body withered rapidly, a high speed mummification. He shrank to leather skin stretched over black bone, and then even that dried-out hide shriveled away into ash. As the dust of him settled into my skirt, I looked up at Redmond’s friend, into his eyes. For a heartbeat, we just stared at each other.
And then I leapt forward, faster than I’d ever moved in my life.
There was no one faster than a vampire, as far as I knew. They could move faster than the human eye could register. Maybe it was just because I’d caught him off guard, but it seemed like he moved in slow motion, turning to run, opening his mouth to shout. And then I was on him, like it was nothing, a hand over his mouth, an arm around his throat. I squeezed, just a bit, to hold him, to keep him quiet. I felt his windpipe crumple like a soda can, heard the crunch of bone.
I dropped him almost as quickly as I’d grabbed him, horrified. He fell badly, gasping and flailing like a landed fish, sprawled on his back on the floor. His eyes were wide, staring up at me in abject horror as he struggled to breathe through his collapsed and ruined throat, mouth caught in a silent scream of confusion and fear. It wouldn’t kill him. Only sunlight, silver, or hawthorne could kill a vampire. But healing would take months, and suddenly all I could imagine was being paralyzed and unable to breathe, unable to die, trapped in my own body and constantly suffocating.
The sound of an alarm jolted me out of my shock. We were blown.
Moving on instinct, I wrapped my skirt around my hand and slammed my fist into the glass of the closest display case, grabbing one of the wolf masks. If nothing else, I could at least keep my face off the cameras.
The alarm and the sound of glass drew people from the party as I secured the mask. I heard a woman shriek, the small crowd of onlookers staring at the man on the floor, at the flakes of ash and cinder clinging to my skirt like stars, which was all that remained of Redmond. At me.
I kicked off my heels and I ran at them. I was operating on pure adrenaline and panicked instinct, and luckily even vampires are still people when they’re
shocked and confused, inclined to just stand there in shock until told what to do. Vampire’s bodies might be deadly fast, but their minds were often slow to react. I barreled through them and they scattered with more screams. The south exit was right outside the chapel. There was no time to run for the kitchens, I just had to hope Domino and the others had already made it out.
I reached the south doors just in time to see two security wolves starting to close them. The building was going into lockdown. I skidded to a stop, scrambling for what to do next. The wolves shouted for me to stay where I was. Instead, I swore loudly and ran in the opposite direction.
There was another exit across from the south doors, behind the buffet, but it was likely to also be guarded and the width of the main transept, full of people, stood between me and it. But I had no other option except to stand there and be caught.
I ran into the crowd instead, hoping the wooden wolf mask would be taken for some weird Fae fashion statement and I could just get lost in the crush of people long enough to slip out the back. As I pushed into the mob, I struggled to catch my breath, still lightheaded from trying to stay cloaked so long. I couldn’t camouflage again, not until I stopped seeing spots and could focus. And in a crowd like this, with so many people so close, it wouldn’t do any good anyway. I needed to get out. If I could move through the crowd maybe I could get to the kitchens, or just stay with them as they made for the doors as many already were and let them carry me out with them. I looked behind myself, struggling to see through the narrow eye holes of the mask and the crowd around me, my stomach clenching as I saw the security guards who’d spotted me at the south doors trying to push through the mass of people after me. I cursed, ready to move faster, but instead I slammed directly into someone. The vampire I’d crashed into stumbled, and grabbed me by the shoulders. I saw the annoyance on his face shift into slow recognition as he processed the black blood and ash on my dress.
I swung my arm into his chest horizontally, trying to knock him aside, but my strength seemed alien to me, out of my control. I felt his sternum give like pressing on a firm mattress, then he stumbled backwards, slamming into someone behind him. Screams rose around me and spread rapidly through the crowd. No one knew what was happening, most of them hadn’t even seen me, but the effect was like shouting fire in a theater. For all the differences between vampires, Fae, and witches, they all behaved pretty much the same as humans when part of a panicked mob.
There was a stampede for the door, people shoving and falling. Those that had seen me hit the vampire, still on the ground clutching his chest, scrambled to get away from me, leaving me exposed. I heard a familiar voice shouting, and for a moment as I stood, alone in the middle of the mob, my eyes met Ryan’s. He was trying to get control of the crowd, and for a moment there was no recognition in his face. I saw the moment he recognized my dress and his expression shifted, not to shock or anger, but just a kind of bitter disappointment, and cold resolve.
He moved swiftly towards me and I froze. I didn’t want to hurt him and suddenly I didn’t know if I’d be able to stop myself. Before he could reach me, one of the panicking party goers let loose a wave of magic, lashing out at random. Ryan and I both saw it at the same time that we realized Ryan was squarely in its trajectory. He gathered himself to move, but I knew he wouldn’t be fast enough. I moved without thinking, faster than should have been possible, faster than the arc of violent energy crackling through the air, to stand between it and Ryan. I threw my arm up into its path, and watched the magic unravel as it touched me, falling apart like it was made of cobwebs. I looked at Ryan, wondering if he could tell that I was just as shocked as he was under my mask.
But that spell had been like a spark in a powder keg. Before either of us could react, more spells split the air, lightning and fire and lashes of force as people tried to get to the doors and force them open despite the security guards barricading them. Magic burned the air and the screams grew more frantic. Another spell slammed into me and, though it melted on contact, it was still enough to send me stumbling backwards, separating me from Ryan. As the ozone smell of magic filled the air I didn’t try to find him again, just took advantage of the chaos to turn and run towards the altar and the north doors.
Flint and Dee were still standing near the altar, both of them looking frightened and confused as I ran towards them. I couldn’t know if they recognized me despite the mask and I didn’t have time to ask. Security was occupied by the panicked mob, but there were still two of them guarding the north door, keeping the guests from fleeing. They weren’t going to let anyone leave until they caught whoever was responsible for the death of Elder Redmond, and right now that looked an awful lot like me. I needed to get out, and my options were getting slimmer all the time.
Flint and Dee were with the people trying to leave through the north doors, Dee perched on Flint’s shoulder to keep from being crushed. As I ran towards the door and the guards saw me, they shouted for me to stop, drawing their weapons. Flint turned towards me, but I couldn’t know if he recognized me by my dress. I didn’t stop, just put my head down and kept running, not towards the doors but towards the closest window. The guards moved to intercept me and from the corner of my eye I saw Flint reach out and trip one of them. Guess he recognized me after all.
The other made it between me and the window, gun raised, shouting at me to stop. But stopping wasn’t an option. I lowered my head, squared my shoulders, and slammed into his midsection with all the power and momentum I had. And instead of stopping like I’d hit a brick wall like I reasonably should have, I knocked him off his feet and kept going, sending both of us crashing through the window behind him.
The unfortunate security guy cushioned my landing, and spared me from most of the glass. I rolled clear of him and back to my feet, quietly marveling at my own stamina. How the fuck was I still alive and moving? I winced, taking it back as I started running again and felt a stabbing pain in my ribs. I’d hurt something going through that window, and lost my mask in the process. I needed to get clear fast.
Unfortunately, the garden between the cathedral and the chapter house was also currently full of people, setting up for the performances that were to follow the ceremony, including the signing of a symbolic treaty by the champions that was the big finale. Which meant all the champions, save Flint and Dee, were standing there staring at me as I shook off stained glass fragments. As were the Triumvirate themselves.
I bolted for the nearest set of stairs. Guess I was going through the kitchens after all.
The champions, unlike the rest of the people at this party, had spent their lives training to react quickly to these kinds of situations. The wolf champion started running towards me almost immediately, suit bursting into shreds as he shifted. Magus Rothbart raised his cane, the silver figure on the handle glowing as he channeled his power through it. The grass reached up to tangle around my feet, bringing me down hard on my jaw. My mouth filled with blood as I bit my tongue. I had no time to care as more grass tried to engulf me and the wolf raced closer, shifting at a speed I’d never seen. In a single leap he went from man to massive, polar bear sized mutant wolf, fur sparse on its grotesquely over-muscled shoulders. There’s nothing quite like the primal fear of being unable to move while a gigantic wolf bounds towards you, jaws wide, teeth gleaming in deep red throat.
Except I’d never done fear well. All the things that should have scared me tended to just piss me off. When I saw that wolf coming at me, I didn’t feel fear. I felt rage.
It boiled up in me, acidic as bile, hot and thick as lava, desperate and righteous and unstoppable. I’d spent so long trying to control my anger, afraid of what I could do to people. But I was about to die, so who cared? If I was going to die, I was gonna take some fuckers with me. A distant part of me was thinking something was wrong, the anger was too intense, too sudden. But that part was drowned out by the roar of fury as rage rolled up behind my teeth. As the wolf bore down on me, I let it out.
And breathed fire.
It scalded my lips and seared my eyelashes as it poured out of me like a furnace. Great gouts of red-orange flame, full of my rage and my hate, hit the oncoming wolf in the face like a fucking freight train. He wheeled away, making animal agony shrieks, his fur burning. But I couldn’t stop. The fire kept coming, rolling over me. I couldn’t even scream. It was burning off all my oxygen too fast. It was in me—in my mouth, my nose, my lungs, smoke and searing flame, all over me. The grass that was holding me scorched to ash, along with most of my dress, the scent of burning silk acrid in my nose. I was burning alive, but I felt no pain, just terrible anger. I got to my feet, a living pyre, my thoughts as consumed by rage as my body was consumed by fire. But I wasn’t mindless. My anger had a target. In that distant part of myself I couldn’t understand the force of the hate I felt as I looked towards the Triumvirate, Magus Rothbart’s spells shattering on my burning skin. I’d always hated them in an abstract way, for the system they represented. But this felt personal, intense and focused and vengeful. I hated them with a force that felt too big for my body to contain, so it flowed out of me in burning fire. I wanted to watch them burn, watch their bones blacken, taste their blood on my teeth. Hate, hate, hate.
And then, for a moment, my eyes locked with the Sumerian’s. And I saw hate just as powerful as my own reflected there.
All at once, my anger withered. Fear rolled over me like a wave, dousing my flame. I stood in the grass, my skin unburnt though my dress had been reduced to little but the blackened lining, terrified.
I turned and ran. I heard gunshots, felt magic singe the air around me, but I kept going.
Down the stairs, through the kitchens, no sign of Anton. Out into the underground parking structure. It was dimly lit, the concrete cold on my bare feet. My dress was falling apart as I ran, sloughing off melted silk-like snakeskin. My thoughts were a blank. You reach a point when you’re afraid enough that the fear stops being specific. You aren’t afraid of anything. It’s just fear, written in all capitals on your brain, and you can’t think of anything else. But fear kept my legs moving anyway, dodging cars and concrete pylons.