by John Conroe
Tanya gave me an apologetic glance, maybe for not explaining the group response beforehand, but it just made me realize how far out of my element I really was.
Lydia says I belong with the Coven, by right of being Chosen, but she is wrong. I didn’t really fit in, no matter how much I tried to tell myself that I did. I was in the middle of a room full of blood sucking vampires every one of which was intensely aware of my heartbeat, my warmth, my blood scent.
Suddenly dizzy as if my seat had suddenly spun in place fifty times like the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair.
My grandfather had once taken me on a trip into Canada, north of Montreal. We had stopped at a small restaurant for dinner and he had excused himself to go to the men’s room. Left alone at the table, I had suddenly become aware that every conversation in the room was in French. I was ten at the time and while it wasn’t my first trip into the Quebec province, it was the first time I had realized just how much different the world became a few miles over the border from my home.
This was like that time only magnified exponentially.
I won’t sit here and tell you it was the first time I had wondered at the strangeness of the supernatural world I had found myself thrust into over two years ago when I met Tanya. There had been plenty of moments of introspection and questioning. But life had progressed at a speed of motion that smoothed those specks of uncertainty over. Now, in this moment, it was as if I had stopped my headlong rush and all those thoughts and emotions had come rushing up behind me, catching up and slamming home, a twenty car pileup on the interstate of my brain.
Tanya froze, then turned in place to look at me, even as Senka spoke the words that turned over the Conclave to Gault and his fellow Patrons. I couldn’t meet her gaze, too overwhelmed by the feeling of culture shock…hell…species shock.
Then we were standing and moving, dismissed from the amphitheater along with the rank and file Darkkin. She didn’t say anything, but I knew she could feel my emotions on our personal wi-fi connection. We shuffled along, moving to the exit, but now I was hypersensitive to the larger than usual space around me, the odd sideways glances, the subtle sniffs of air to gather my scent. Hundreds of personal conversations swirled around us, but we each stayed silent.
“Well, that was….short!” Lydia said, brightly. “Here I thought it would take hours and hours.”
Nika murmured an agreement, but Lydia was suddenly studying Tanya and me, her personal radar sniffing out a situation.
“What’s up?” she asked, looking back and forth between us. I didn’t answer, keeping my gaze on an imaginary spot on the floor ten feet in front of us.
“He is feeling out of place,” Tanya said quietly.
Lydia started to make a comment, most likely wiseass in nature, but slammed her mouth shut at the last moment. I could see her shoot a look at my vampire from my peripheral vision, but couldn’t see Tanya’s response. Nika was watching me as well, but I had my anti-mind reading shield in place. The trip back to our rooms was very quiet.
I veered off toward the kitchen just before we got to our quarters, claiming hunger. I don’t think anyone believed me, but I needed time alone and they needed time to talk – probably about me.
The thing is whenever I’ve been with Lydia, Nika, Tanya and a few others, I haven’t felt odd. Well odder. Let’s face it, I’ve been odd my whole life. But what I mean is that I never really felt out of place. I was just hanging out with three beautiful girls who happened to drink blood. They didn’t act too much different from other girls I had observed.
But when I was in a large crowd of vampires, particularly old ones, the alien nature of their society would suddenly press on me. Sitting in the amphitheater with several hundred very old vampires had struck me like lightning. What was I doing here? I didn’t belong underground with a race of bloodsuckers. I belonged above ground – actually, I belonged above ground and out of the Big Apple. I should be somewhere with forests and fields, lakes and streams.
The kitchen was empty, which was a relief. The industrial fridge yielded a block of sharp cheddar and a lump of roast beef. I made toasted sandwiches and washed it all down with full fat milk while I pondered my life.
Claws clicked on the floor, but some deep seated part of me instantly identified the sound as belonging to a young were bear-wolf. Awasos padded into the kitchen in wolf form looking hopefully at the chunk of beef.
“Ah, I wondered if you would track me down, fuzz face. Here, have a slab,” I greeted my furry friend, ruffling his neck fur. Looking him over I realized he was getting bigger.
“Still just a growing wolf-bear aren’t ya pal?”
He finished his chunk of beef, snuffled my face then looked pointedly at the hunk on the butcher block.
I laughed and cut him another piece. I might be out of place but I was certain that I belonged with Tanya and my furry pal.
Feeling marginally better, the two of us headed back to the rooms. We didn’t make it.
A pair of Arkady’s security guys found me in the hall. “Chosen, the Conclave has…requested your attendance,” one of them said. By his momentary hesitation I knew he had been about to say ‘ordered’ but changed it at the last moment. Arkady’s guys hold me, or at least my abilities, in some respect. With a sigh, I followed them back to the amphitheater, Awasos at my side.
Chapter 32
A pair of guards that I didn’t know held me up at the entrance to the Conclave, telling me the Patrons would call for me when they were ready. Apparently ready was an hour and a half later, when the doors opened and a visibly weary Arkady came out. He looked like he’d been thoroughly wrung out by the Conclave’s questioning. Spotting me as he came out, he nodded then swung back around. “Try to keep your temper Chosen,” he said, till one of the unknown guards told him to keep quiet and the other told me the Conclave was ready for me.
That little exchange said a lot. Arkady headed up the Citadel’s security, so these guards wouldn’t be any of his to talk to him that way. Must have been brought in by either the Elders or the Patrons. His comment to keep my temper was also telling. I could assume that he’d been questioned about the events of Fedor’s death as he had been assistant security chief at that time and would have detailed memories of the cleanup of Fedor, Anton, and Vadim.
All of this ran through my head as I was led into the big room by one of the guards. I had just gotten to wondering why my temper was about to be tested, when I arrived in the center of the room, facing all of the Patrons on their raised dais’s.
Gault had taken Senka’s spot at number ten and Atta had moved into the seat that Tzao had vacated. Hosokawa stood at the midway point between the two, feet spread in parade rest, a pair of sword hilts poking above his shoulder. Eleven pairs of eyes studied me, while Gault kept his eyes on his desk, reading through notes. Up high on my right side, on the walkway above the highest row of seats, was a door. Something was behind that door that I didn’t like, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was. The feeling was muted and dim.
Finally Gault spoke. “You are called Christian Gordon?”
“Yes,” I answered. He studied me with cold gray eyes for a moment before looking back down at his paperwork.
“You claim to be the Chosen of Tatiana Demidova?”
Interesting choice of words, that.
“Yes,” I said.
“You also claim to have witnessed Elder Fedor’s death?”
“Yes.”
He looked up and watched me for a moment. “Explain what happened,” he ordered.
“He pissed off a god and was crushed like tooth paste,” I said. Probably not the smoothest answer, but despite Arkady’s warning I was already losing patience with the Conclave. More than a dozen very old vampires stared at me coldly.
“You know it was a god how?” Lison asked suddenly.
I almost said that an Angel had told me the bear was a god, but then remembered some advice an assistant DA had once given me about testimony. ‘Keep
your answers short and don’t embellish. Don’t give the questioner more information than you have to.’
This felt like a trial or court of inquiry so I needed to watch my tongue.
“Members of the Special Services Squad felt it fit the profile of an elder god. It had the ability to appear and disappear at will and was easily able to crush an Elder vampire into true death.”
“The word of a human so-called expert was what you have to go by that it was a god?” Frimunt asked.
I actually had a lot more than that, but their hostile attitude killed any inclination to help them understand the details. They would ask and I would answer and let them believe or disbelieve me either way.
“Yes,” I answered, getting a frown from Atta.
“Why?” asked red-haired Elisabeta. “Why did the ‘god’ kill Fedor?”
“He never said, but I inferred that he objected to Fedor’s intention to kill me.”
“And what made you so special in the eyes of this so-called god?” Gault asked.
I didn’t answer immediately, staring back while I thought about my answer. Apparently that was too slow.
“You will answer the Prolocuter’s questions without hesitation!” Mausya said.
I eyed her for a minute while I shoved Grim back down. Her head tilted slightly as I wrestled with my dark half.
“I freed him from slavery,” I finally answered.
“And who was able to enslave a god?” Gault asked lightly, smirking.
“Demons.”
“Ahh, demons. Demons are the reason you met Tatiana in the first place are they not?”
“Yes.”
“And you are supposed to be a ‘demon hunter’, is this not correct?” Gault asked.
“Yes,” I answered. He frowned, not liking my short answers.
“Some of us find that difficult to believe,” he said, watching my response. I didn’t provide one.
After a moment he spoke again.
“We feel a test is in order. To see this vaunted ability of yours,” he said, gesturing to Hosokawa, who in turn gestured to a guard up by the door that I didn’t like.
The guard opened the door and another vampire led three chained girls into the room. All three were filthy, disheveled and wild-eyed. The first two looked crazy, the third was possessed.
“We would like you to pick out the possessed one –“ he started to say, but I moved before he could finish.
My left hand pointed at the possessed girl and pulled, yanking the demon from inside of her. The force of its extraction slammed her against the handrail hard enough to bend her partway over it.
The greasy black demon ripped free from her body and flew to my hand, screaming in a voice that assaulted the ears of every living being in the room. I held my left hand high over my head, the writhing black blob squirming around it, and then called >Kirby< in my mind.
The giant God-Hawk screeched as he popped into our dimension, his raptor’s eyes locked on my left hand. Two flaps of his giant wings and the car-sized shadow-bird was across the vast room and ripping the demon from my hand with talons the size of bananas. He didn’t immediately snap out of existence but instead flapped his wings in front of the Conclave, buffeting them with enough wind to blow all their notes off their desks, then finally disappeared with an audible pop.
For long moments there was no motion in the room other than papers settling to the floor. The vampires were frozen, completely, their eyes locked on me. Hosokawa finally flicked a finger and several assistants sprang up from seats behind the Patrons and started to collect the scattered notes. Above, the two sanity challenged girls looked shocked while the girl who had recently been possessed was passed out.
“I think the intention was to simply identify the possessed girl,” said a smooth female voice. Chilka, the Japanese Patron, looking slightly amused.
“It was the last girl,” I said.
“I..we did not give you leave to act,” Gault said.
“You did not specify a manner of indicating my selection,” I replied.
“Pointing would have sufficed,” Tavian said, also looking a touch amused.
“Noted,” I said.
“The reports I’ve read indicate you must touch the possessed in order to exorcise the demon?” Gultekin asked from far down the arc.
“My abilities have grown,” I replied. Hell, I hadn’t even known I could yank a demon out from across the room. I had just simply reacted at its presence.
“You have vampire abilities as well?” Mausya asked.
“Most of them. Speed, strength, senses, energy manipulation. Healing, too.”
“Tatiana is twenty-five, yet she is almost the equal of the vampires in this room,” Lison noted. Chilka snorted at that before the French vampire could go on. I agreed. Tanya wasn’t the equal of the vampires in the room, she had surpassed them. Lison shot a glare at the Japanese vampire then continued. “How do you stack up against Tatiana?”
“She exceeds me greatly,” I replied.
“He is not being truthful,” Berit spoke suddenly. The mind reader had stayed quiet to this point. I checked my mental shield and found it solid. Her eyes narrowed as she studied my face. Hmm, she might be able to read micro-expressions as my friend Gina does.
“Care to correct that statement,” Lison suggested.
“I am generally not her equal. At times, if I lose my temper, I improve.”
“He’s still understating, but that’s true in the main,” Berit said.
“Hosokawa-san? What is your opinion?” Frimunt asked.
The Guardian of the Conclave snapped a quick bow then spoke.
“Gordon-san exceeds every Darkkin in this room when he…loses his temper. Otherwise his abilities are somewhere around two hundred years or so,” Hosokawa said.
“Oh come on! I can’t buy that! Does he exceed even you, great Duelist?” Frimunt said.
“Hai! Although I have much greater experience,” Hosokawa said in an even tone.
Frimunt snorted in disbelief.
“Tatiana is twenty-five. How long have you been...like a vampire?” Mausya asked.
“About two years,” I answered. The vampires all froze again, as still as statues, contemplating my answer.
“Absurd!” Atta said. Frimunt nodded in agreement.
“I think a test is in order,” the big blond German vampire suggested
“No!” Hosokawa said forcibly. “That would be very unsafe. I will not allow it.”
The other vampires looked at him with disbelief.
“May I remind you Guardian, that you follow my directions,” Gault said.
“Unless the safety of the Conclave is threatened, then my direction supersedes yours,” Hosokawa answered. “Pressuring Gordon-san into…losing his temper would be a grave mistake. I could not ensure the safety of the Patrons.”
“Ridiculous!” Frimunt said. “You’re just protecting your Elder’s pet!”
Hosokawa’s eyes turned icy. “Are you suggesting that I have compromised my honor in the execution of my duties as Conclave Guardian?” he asked in a deadly quiet voice.
The look on Frimunt’s face was priceless when he realized he had just insulted the honor of the Duelist. Gault hastily came to his rescue. “I think, Hosokawa-san, that Patron Frimunt was worried that you might have a conflict of interest in young Gordon here.”
Hosokawa did not look mollified. “Perhaps you mean to say that the very high esteem I have for Gordon-san’s abilities have led me to overstate the danger?”
“Of course, Guardian Hosokawa. I would never question your honor,” Frimunt said, visibly worried.
The deadly look left the Duelist’s eyes, but he still looked a bit peeved. “Then I will reassure the Conclave that my evaluation of the danger involved in such a test is solid and perhaps even conservative.” He looked carefully around the room, meeting each Patron’s eyes.
“Unless you wish to replace me as Guardian of the Conclave, then you will accede t
o my judgement in this. No testing of Gordon-san.”
The room was quiet for a moment, then a soft, yet surprisingly deep voice spoke from the far end of the arc. “I would agree with Hosokawa-san, based on what I know of this one,” said Jarib Salazar, the South American Patron. He was studying me coldly, like I was a dangerous snake.
“You have knowledge for the Conclave, Jarib?” Gault asked, curious.
“This…creature before us is vastly more dangerous than you realize,” the sharp featured Salazar began. “Are you aware of a gang of were’s called ‘Loki’s Spawn’?”