Amaranthine Special Edition Vol II

by Naylor, Joleene

  Malick’s voice echoed through the room. “Who will fight me?”

  Eileifr brushed past Verchiel and Katelina, to stand before Malick. He was taller than the Arabic Master, but not as terrifying. “If it’s blood you want, then I will spill it.”

  “I knew that I could rely upon your old pride to give me battle, despite your words of peace. But you misunderstand, my friend. The Master does not do the fighting; it is those who serve him who do.”

  He snapped his fingers and Senya, Greneth and Griselda moved to shield him. He let his gaze linger on Verchiel. The Executioner flinched at the silent conversation, but didn’t back away.

  “Interesting.” Malick broke eye contact. “You continue to surprise me. If your choice is to remain here, then I’m afraid we must say goodbye for now.”

  Eileifr ignored the Executioners. “You have overstepped your bounds, Malick. You will be summoned to Munich and put before the True Council for your crimes.”

  Malick’s amusement crackled in the air. “If your visions have shown you the truth, you know that today will not be that day.”

  The high ceiling of the atrium exploded into chunks of falling glass and plaster. The missiles rained down around the screaming occupants. A large piece smashed into the fountain. With a crack, the fountain broke and water sprayed out in a cold shower. The lights above, previously concealed by the thick glass, flickered once and then went out.

  Katelina tried to shield herself from the falling debris. Around her glass and plaster crashed to the ground. Shrieks told her when someone had been hit. She looked up in time to see Griselda leap to the second floor balcony. Like a preternatural cat, she hopped from level to level, her black coat flapping behind her. She stopped on the fifth and shot the giant gun towards the hole. The hook glinted in the moonlight and embedded itself in the ruined ceiling.

  Griselda dropped like a stone and swung towards her master and his companions. She crashed into them and then, as a single group, they rose from the ground toward the hole in the ceiling. Katelina had a final, terrifying view of Malick’s dark, jewel like eyes. His laughter echoed in her head and then died away.

  She stared at the space where they’d been. She could see a slice of night sky through the fractured ceiling. Something fell through it; small, soft flecks that caught the moonlight. She realized with a strange giddiness that it was snow. The flakes swirled and danced as they drifted lower like tiny falling stars into the silent atrium.

  The silence ended. Groans, moans, and screams filled the air.

  Verchiel hauled her to her feet. “I need to put you someplace.”

  A thousand questions slammed through her head. What was happening? Where was Jorick? Where was Loren or Micah or Oren?

  Verchiel picked through them and chose which ones to answer. “The guy with the tattoos is fine, and the other one will live for now. Injuries are not life threatening to vampires, only troublesome.”

  “His arm?” she murmured weakly.

  “I’m afraid he’s lost that. Vampirism only heals so much.”

  The lights in the corridors still worked. The atrium’s main entrance glowed like a beacon of safety in a sea of blackness. As they drew closer she could see the remnants of the glass doors; chrome strips and a handful of shards.

  She and Verchiel carefully picked their way around the bodies that lay scattered and broken. She could see their twisted faces, lit by the corridor’s eerie glow. Blood leaked from their ears and noses and the sockets of their dull, bulging eyes.

  The corridor was rapidly filling with both survivors from the atrium and those who were attracted by the commotion. The dead had been heaped against the wall to make space for the surging crowd of the living. Verchiel and Katelina plunged into the confused swirl. He tightened his hold on her arm and used his free hand to shove panicked vampires and humans out of the way.

  Sorino stepped directly in their path. He gave Verchiel a chilling smile. “Things have gotten quite interesting. How does it happen that you are here with the lowly instead of with your fellows?”

  “I promised Jorick I’d get her somewhere safe.”

  Sorino’s smile grew. “Go no farther, my friend, for you have done your job.” He laid a hand on Katelina’s arm. “I shall watch over her for you.” Verchiel hesitated and he added, “You have my word, I will not allow her to come to harm.”

  The building shook from another explosion. To Katelina’s horror, Verchiel released her. He grinned and said, “Don’t hurt the coat.” Then he disappeared.

  Sorino met her startled eyes. His gaze chilled her to the bone. “Come, child. We must find you a safe haven.”

  Kai waited for his vampire against a nearby wall, wearing his usual chain and collar. He wore an open short sleeved shirt that exposed his pale chest. Katelina looked away from the thick scars that crisscrossed his skin like tangled railway lines. She felt the familiar revulsion well up in her.

  Sorino took the chain in his free hand and led Kai and Katelina down the corridor in the opposite direction of the mall, away from most of the other vampires.

  They wound their way to a dark, narrow hallway lit in blue. At the end of it was a doorway draped in gauzy black cloth that made Katelina think of a shroud.

  They ducked through it and Katelina squinted in the semi-darkness to find that they were in what looked like a nightclub. A stage sat at the far end, ringed in lights that flashed blue and purple. A bar was against one wall and several tables were scattered around. A handful of vampires lounged at the tables, glasses in their hands and boredom on their faces.

  Two females and a male sat at the bar. She recognized the man instantly; it was Traven’s friend with the beaded dreadlocks. Next to him was a woman with short blondish hair and tiny glasses. The other female’s dark hair was cut in a straight line at her shoulders; so straight that it seemed fake. She sipped from her glass and watched Sorino approach them. “So, what’s all the excitement?”

  Sorino pointed to a barstool and commanded both Katelina and Kai to sit. The boy did so without question and Katelina followed because she didn’t know what else to do.

  Sorino took a stool and nodded to the three. “It appears that we are under attack, Jill.”

  The man snorted. “Looks like we picked a hell of a day for a meeting.”

  The blonde woman turned to Sorino, “By who?”

  Jill interrupted, “Shouldn’t that be whom?”

  Grammatically correct or not, Sorino answered, “I am afraid that information was denied me, Iris, but I do know that our esteemed Malick has something to do with it.”

  The women’s interest became more permanent and they leaned towards him, as if to catch his words before he’d spoken them. “What do you mean?”

  Sorino tapped his fingers rhythmically. “I suggest that you ask the human. I believe that she had a front row seat.”

  At his words, the three vampires were suddenly aware of Katelina’s presence. Jill turned her excited eyes to Katelina, but spoke to Sorino, “Who is she? One of Kai’s friends?”

  The black male squinted at her. “I recognize her. She’s the Hand of Death’s pet.”

  Iris looked surprised, “Where ever did you meet her, Lurid?”

  “At Traven’s, only a few days ago.”

  Jill grabbed Katelina’s arm and demanded, “Tell me what happened!”

  Hesitant words tumbled from Katelina’s mouth. Jill hung on every detail, her hands clasped together as if to keep from clapping.

  When she’d finished her tale, the vampires talked excitedly among themselves. Mentally drained, Katelina lay her head on the bar and let tears seep from her eyes. She thought she was beyond feeling, but the ache in her chest told her that she wasn’t. She was overflowing with raw emotions and the after tremors of her terror.

  A soft, accented voice interrupted her thoughts, “Yes it was horrible, but you survived. So, if you cry, cry not for yourself but for those who died.”

  She looked to see Kai staring
at her intently, one green eye peeping through his messy blonde hair. “What?”

  He cocked his head as if to say “I’ve already told you” and then focused his attention on his master.

  The minutes dragged by. Katelina watched the colored lights and wondered if Jorick was all right. What about the others? Would The Guild really execute Loren and Micah? Sure, he was an ass, but he didn’t deserve to die. And what about Torina? And Luna? And what about Verchiel. Was he all right?

  The thoughts were like sticking hot pins in her stomach. It was more than she could take.

  Sorino and his companions were wrapped in a deep conversation about an expedition to Peru when Verchiel slouched through the door and made his way to them. His hideous green shirt was torn and he was splattered with blood, but he seemed cheerful.

  Sorino greeted him enthusiastically and offered him a drink. The Executioner declined. “I need to take her back to her owner before he gets too cranky.”

  “Surely you can spare a moment to tell us how the fight went? Her presence can’t be that important.”

  “He gets nervous when she’s off on her own. You should know all about that.” Verchiel grinned and nodded to Kai. “I can tell you that all of the intruders are accounted for except one.”

  Jill suddenly perked up. “Are they going to execute them?”

  “You’re vultures!” Verchiel said with exaggerated disapproval. “They’re being assembled in the atrium. The High Council will decide their fate soon, I should think. It’s almost morning.”

  “Maybe we should go watch?” Jill suggested. Verchiel didn’t wait for their discussion. He tugged on Katelina’s arm and motioned her to follow him.

  They’d barely reached the narrow hallway when she pulled him to a stop. “Is Jorick all right?”

  “Oh yes. Physically.”

  Unnamed fears assaulted her. “What do you mean physically? What’s wrong?”

  Verchiel managed an almost sincere grin and ruffled her messy hair. “I’m sure everything will be fine. There’s a small chance that they might take him into custody, but I wouldn’t worry about it.”

  “Custody?” she echoed like a sick parrot. “Why? What’s he done?”

  “It may not be a matter of what he’s done versus what he’s not done. No one knows yet. I’m sure they’ll have Celandine question him. It depends on whether he’s strong enough to block her or not.”

  “Question him about what?”

  “All but one of the war coven is accounted for. The one that’s missing is Oren.”

  **********

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Katelina understood the implications. All but Jorick’s fledgling had been found. It stood to reason he’d helped him escape.

  Verchiel cleared his throat. “Celandine will want to talk to you of course.”

  “You mean she wants to dig through my brain?”

  “Yeah, something like that. I should warn you, you’ll probably find her mind reading ability similar to Malick’s.”

  Katelina shivered involuntarily. “I thought she was a lot younger than him?”

  “Oh she is. She’s only about five hundred years older than Jorick.”

  Katelina blinked stupidly. “Five hundred years? You mean she’s like a thousand years old?”

  “Something like that. Come on, we want to beat him back.”

  The corridor outside the atrium was deserted. Ark and Jamie were stationed before the remnants of the glass doors. Jamie had a gash that cut from above one eye, over the bridge of his nose, and into his other cheek. Ark looked relatively unharmed.

  They nodded to Verchiel as he guided Katelina through the doorway. Huge flood lights on tripods were set up inside the atrium. She knew it was for comfort rather than necessity because the vampires could see in the dark. The lights threw harsh, dark shadows in all directions. Under their glare, the ruined fountain seemed like a broken monster trapped in death agonies.

  An inch of murky water covered the floor and splashed up Katelina’s legs as she walked. Little bits of glass, plaster and greenery floated in it, like a miniature ship wreck. Those that Malick had murdered were left in a jumbled heap along the left wall, their twisted faces locked forever in their death agonies. The gaping hole in the ceiling was smaller than it seemed earlier. Snow still drifted lazily through it to melt on overturned furniture and dying plants.

  The four Masters stood in a group, flanked by Kioko and Beldren. Beldren’s face was the smooth veneer of the unaffected, but jagged cuts across Kioko’s face and arms showed that Torina had been successful in her attack.

  Guards milled around, though the majority of them stood in two large clumps. One was under the overhang caused by the Verandas, and the other was at the far end of the room where the prisoners were corralled.

  The waterfall was the only thing in the atrium that was still functioning properly. It ran and gurgled over the stone wall and fell into the broad basin where the prisoners stood, knee deep in water. Katelina could only just see them between the guards. At a glance she recognized Micah and his burden, as well as Jeda, Torina, Saeed and Fabian.

  Verchiel led her to the masters. Celandine stepped away from the group and surveyed Katelina with cold eyes. She felt the intrusion. Celandine’s eyes peered into the recesses of her memories, like shards of ice slicing into her brain and stripping away the protective layers. She tried to fight her but it was useless. Celandine could see it all; her, Jorick, their private conversations.

  Celandine released her. “She knows nothing.”

  Eileifr nodded and motioned a dismissive hand towards the shadowy area under the verandas. “Leave her there and return.”

  Verchiel bowed obediently and steered her away. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

  “Of course it was! It was some stranger digging around inside my brain!” Her face fell. “I don’t know how Jorick’s going to get around her.”

  “Think he’s guilty, do you?” Verchiel prodded her in the side with his elbow. “He’ll be fine. She’s older, but he was made by a true master. His abilities are probably equal with hers.”

  “No they aren’t! He’s read my mind dozens of times and it’s never like that. If he was that powerful he could have dragged Traven’s plan out of him!”

  “That’s because he holds back and does it gently. If he didn’t care about your feelings or about other people’s reactions, he could do the same thing.”

  The idea disturbed her, but she had more pressing things to worry about.

  Migina appeared, lugging someone. The coppery red hair and black coat were familiar; it was Aine. Half of his face was black and blistered. One of his arms hung uselessly, his clothing and skin charred. They came to a stop before the masters and, after a hurried conversation, Migina took him out again.

  Katelina thought of the home made napalm they’d encountered and shuddered. “Will he be all right?”

  “He should be fine, tomorrow.” Verchiel mussed her hair. “Isn’t it nice that you’re concerned?”

  He left her in the shadows under the veranda and returned to the group, only to be sent away again. Katelina tried to shrink herself into invisibility. It obviously worked because no one paid any attention to her.

  The minutes ticked by and she grew more and more anxious. She let her weary eyes move around the room. The lights were too bright and she wondered why they had so many of them. Their beams bounced all over and left bright spots on the walls that reminded her of the childish notion of chasing Tinkerbelle. One of the spot lights was aimed at a nearby pile of debris that was covered over with a giant cloth. Something about the shape of the heap disturbed her.

  Jorick and Verchiel strode through the ruined doors, their faces identically grim. Jorick nodded to her and made a sign for her to be patient. Her shoulders slumped and he inclined his head towards Celandine. Her face was cool, but her body language betrayed her annoyance.

  Jorick and Verchiel joined the group of masters and Executioners. They
spoke briefly and Katelina imagined that Celandine was probing into Jorick’s mind. Whatever she found, or didn't find, only made her more irritated. She gestured as she revealed the information to the others.

  In procession, the whole group moved to the space under the verandas. Jorick stopped next to Katelina and wrapped an arm around her waist. Except for some scratches and blood splatters he seemed unharmed, though he looked as weary as she felt. It took all of her will power not to fling herself at him and hang on until everything around them disappeared in a swirl of unimportance.

  He brushed a kiss across her cheek and she stopped from telling him that she’d been present for Malick’s exciting exit and was then dumped on Sorino. He looked too tired to deal with the information.

  Jamie came to stand next to him. “It will start soon.”

  Jorick nodded. When no one explained Katelina asked, “What’s going on?”

  A muscle twitched in Jorick’s jaw. “They’re getting ready to try the prisoners.”

  She bit her lip and looked towards the waterfall. Fear fluttered inside her as she realized that they might all be executed.

  Jorick squeezed her tightly. Without looking at her, Jamie answered her thoughts, “They knew the penalties.”

  She wanted to argue, but a wave of warm, soothing calm washed over her. She tried to catch Jorick’s eyes to see if it was his doing or Jamie’s.

  The masters arranged themselves in a line as they did on the dais in the audience chamber. Most of the guards gathered at the other end of the room or beneath the verandas, leaving the atrium deserted except for the destruction, the prisoners, their guards, and the dead. Tension thickened in the air and all eyes turned expectantly to the masters.

  Eileifr nodded, and the guards that ringed the prisoners moved back and motioned for them to come forward. Katelina watched as they splashed out of the pool and formed a tightly packed group some feet away. She held her breath as she looked from one to the other. Micah stood at the front. Loren leaned against him, pale, withered, and barely conscious.