Zander cocked his head. “Master was my spiritual father even before I was made immortal. My brothers, Trefor and Gaius, were already immortal when I was given to them.”
“Given?” Brandle asked lightly.
“Yes, as a child. Master was the protector of a village in the mountains. It was understood that children born with the mark belonged to him.” He tugged up his sleeve to show a crescent shaped birthmark on his arm. “Is that not how you came to be with your master?”
“No,” Brandle said.
“I admit we remained isolated from our kind, but I assumed some things were universal.”
Brandle shrugged. “Very little is universal. Each do things their own way.”
Zander’s brow creased, then melted back. “I see. I’ve noticed none of you do the sunrise or sunset prayers.”
Brandle cocked an eyebrow. “I’m sure some pray to one god or another. Who’s your deity of choice?”
Zander looked surprised. “The Night Goddess. Who else?”
Katelina tried to find a non-offensive way to phrase her question, but she wasn’t sure there was one. “What does worshiping her entail?”
“I don’t understand,” Zander said.
Brandle smiled. “She means what are your rituals? Are your beliefs strict? Are there rules you must follow?”
“You don’t know?”
She rubbed the back of her neck. “Um…no. Sorry. I’ve never spent time with anyone who worshipped her…Except for the feast last month.”
Zander smiled for the first time since Katelina’d met him. “The Feast of the Night Goddess is one of the highest holy days. You were allowed to join without being anointed? Or were you anointed?”
Katelina thought of the cages, the screams, the orgy of blood and death. “I didn’t notice any anointing.”
Zander cocked his head. “It might have been a more liberal sect, I suppose. Or perhaps you were not aware of the significance of the anointing? It involves sacred oils on the four corners, and the secret eye.”
Katelina had no idea what he was talking about, but there hadn’t been any oil. “Nothing like that. It was a big party, with music and dancing. And a lot of prisoners.”
Zander looked confused. “What do you mean a lot?”
“Thirty people or more. In cages. When the clock struck three, they let them out and…drank from them.” Tore them to shreds was a better description, but she couldn’t say it.
Horror flashed across Zander’s face. “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”
Brandle laid a hand on Katelina’s arm. “Perhaps it is as you said, a different sect?”
“A perverse one.” Zander shook his head. “The Night Goddess scriptures say blood is where freedom lies, but they also warn of gluttony. To take more than you need today leaves nothing for tomorrow. To sacrifice that many would be gluttony. Only one is needed. Each year, on the night of the Goddess moon, Father chose the healthiest of our herd. Since we moved to the town, Gaius buys a calf. This dancing you spoke of, and cages…There are none of those. The sacrifice is given on the altar. Each drink of it, leaving a portion for the Night Goddess, then we celebrate the creation.”
Katelina wasn’t sure how they celebrated the creation in his cult, but she remembered how Sarah and Des had done it. “You said a calf? You don’t sacrifice people?”
“As in humans? No. In the old world there were not enough in our village to take twenty a year. And here…We have never lived in a place where it would be less than gluttony. Perhaps if one lived in a city…”
“Twenty?” Katelina demanded.
“One for each ritual. The Feast of the Goddess Moon is the highest day, and so demands the greatest sacrifice, but smaller ones are required for other holy days. I hope this sect you speak of doesn’t continue such sacrifices for all of them.”
“I think the Feast is the only one Andrei observes,” Brandle assured him.
“A strange sect for sure.”
A car pulled into the distant parking lot. Brandle nodded toward it. “If I’m not mistaken, our pilots are here.”
Zander followed his gaze then headed for the rest of the group. Katelina hung back a moment to whisper to Brandle, “I understood the Night Goddess was a goddess of death and blood who demanded sacrifices and the freedom of reveling in gore.”
“That’s the incarnation I’ve run across,” Brandle agreed. “Perhaps there are other interpretations. Not all Christians understand their God the same. Some say he’s loving and kind, while others scream brimstone and hellfire. Why would her followers be different?”
Katelina stopped from saying, “Because they’re vampires.”
The ride on the plane was only an hour and a half. The pilot explained that they had to detour because of the “disaster” in the area. As long as the detour meant less flying time, Katelina was fine with it.
When they landed, she said a prayer of gratefulness. Outside heavy clouds in the sky blocked out all but the brightest stars. A soft haze turned the lights to plump globes. As the nearest airport to the fire, it was overcrowded, with airplanes parked in rows on the grass. Despite the late hour, people fueled a plane in the distance. Two men scurried toward the buildings.
Katelina turned to Jorick. “I know you said they torched a whole town, but I didn’t imagine this.”
“Neither did I.”
Des exited, a frown on his face. “This smoke must be from the fire what’s-his-name mentioned? What do we do? Get close to it?”
Torina appeared, her expression pinched and her eyes everywhere but Des. “We should find a place to stay, first.”
Katelina hated to say it, but Torina’s plan sounded smarter than heading toward an inferno. Before she could voice her opinion, Sorino disembarked, his phone to his ear. He nodded and ended with, “We’ll meet you there.”
He snapped the phone shut. “That was our Executioner friend. They arrived last night, and have accomplished little. He’s sending cars for us.”
“Oh boy,” Torina said. “More fun time with the Executioners.”
It hurt Katelina to agree with her a second time.
When everyone was off the plane, they made their way through the airport. The wait wasn’t long. Soon two SUVs with government plates appeared. What had the Executioners done? Killed some FBI guys and stolen their vehicles?
She took her place in the backseat, clutching her suitcase, one of Torina’s bags stuffed under her feet. She thought of Verchiel’s “travel light” policy and wished more of them practiced it. All the luggage was getting to be a pain.
At least we left Sarah’s stuff at Oren’s house.
They drove away from the airport, toward the smoke. It ran the length of the horizon, mountain-like except for the motion. Near the bottom, Katelina could see the flare of orange that signaled flames.
“How far away is it?”
Sorino leaned up. “Thirty miles? Maybe less.”
It was going to be even less if they kept heading straight for it.
After several miles, they turned, running parallel with the fire. A road block loomed, flashing lights like beacons. They zipped through unmolested. Farther down the road, they pulled into a roadside motel whose retro signs promised colored TV and a café.
Katelina climbed out into a heavy haze that smelled like burning wood. Some primal fear wanted her to run, get as far away from the snapping, writhing destruction as she could. That dark wall of smoke was death, moving slowly toward them.
Jorick took her hand. “We should be safe here, through tomorrow at least.”
“Then what?”
He shrugged as Des drew up, eyes on the inferno. “I thought you said it was a village? The fire looks pretty big.”
“It’s obviously spread,” Sorino drawled. “They do that when left unattended.”
Katelina watched as an airplane, barely more than a dot at that distance, skirted the edge of the fire, dropping a trail of water or chemicals.
A room door op
ened. Verchiel stuck his head out. “Hello! What a surprise!”
“Surprise?” Micah asked, a cigarette hanging off his lip. “You sent the fuckin’ cars.”
“Did I?” Verchiel looked back into the room. “Huh. I’m sure we’re all surprised to see you.”
“Oh cut it,” Ark’s voice came first, followed by the Executioner himself. “I’m not stupid. Next time, do the driving yourself and leave the guards out of it.”
The drivers skulked toward another room, shoulders hunched, eyes down.
“They had no choice. I outrank them,” Verchiel said.
“Why, we’ll never know.” Ark glared at Jorick. “You’re wasting your time. There’s nothing for us to do, and there’s certainly nothing for you.”
He disappeared inside. Jorick and Oren followed. Katelina hesitated, her eyes on Micah’s cigarette. She finally snatched it, then hurried toward the room, puffing as fast as she could.
“What the hell are you doing? Get your own!” Micah shouted.
“I did, Buckeye,” she called back.
“Buckeye? What the fuck?”
Regretfully, she tossed what was left of the smoke to head indoors. The motel room was as retro as the sign. The cleanliness said the kitschy look was for effect rather than from neglect. Did people want to purposefully stay in a piece of 1960s history?
Twin beds looked small. A table had vinyl chairs. Jamie sat in one, his legs crossed at the knee. “Ark’s right, Jorick. We’re only here to meet with the Atormentadores. I told you that last night.”
Jorick leaned against the dresser, scowling. “When are you meeting them?”
“Whenever they get here,” Ark said irritably.
Right. The Mexican Executioners, who’d set fire to the town and potentially murdered the population. “I don’t understand why they dealt with it like this,” Katelina said.
“Because it’s what they do,” Ark replied “Anything to cause trouble for us.”
Katelina knew that none of the governments got along, but she sensed there was something deeper. “You don’t like them?”
Jorick explained, “They were originally under our jurisdiction, like Canada. As the territories grew and settlers expanded, they felt the distances were too great. They petitioned for their own guild. They were denied, but — was it 1836?— they seceded and declared independence. Malick wanted a war to take them back. The High council voted against it, so they got their own guild.”
“Not to mention they continue to argue over their boundaries,” Ark added. “Texas, California, anything south of Iowa if they had their way.”
Jamie chuckled. “It’s not that bad, but yes, there are…issues.”
Jorick changed the subject. “You believe Lilith is responsible for attacking the town?”
“From the description they gave us, it sounded the same,” Jamie said.
“You haven’t seen it?” Oren asked.
Jamie made a sound between a chuckle and a snort. “In case you missed it, there’s an uncontrolled wildfire burning, with the village at the center.”
Verchiel shoved his hands in his pockets. “Actually, it was at the center, but the fire is moving. It might be past the village. There’s only so much fuel in an area, then the fire goes out and burns somewhere else. Usually it takes days to engulf towns, but the Atormentadores set it everywhere at once. It wasn’t a big place; there were only one hundred and twenty residents. The fire should have burned through already.”
“If that’s true, what’s left is rubble,” Oren said impatiently.
Verchiel shrugged. “Looking around couldn’t hurt. It beats sitting here.”
Jamie cleared his throat. “Technically, you don’t have to sit here, since The Guild didn’t send you.”
Katelina looked quickly to the redhead. He did his best innocent impression. “They didn’t? I must have misunderstood the orders.”
Ark scoffed. “You didn’t misunderstand anything.”
“Either way, who wants to go check out the rubble with me?” Verchiel asked.
The door opened. Micah stuck his head in. “Yo. When you guys are done yacking, are we going to do something?”
“That sounds like a volunteer,” Jorick said.
Micah looked from one to the other. “A volunteer for what?”
Oren answered, “To go with Verchiel and look over what’s left of the town.”
“What?” Micah demanded. “I don’t wanna go nowhere with that—”
Verchiel cut him off coldly. “I didn’t invite you.” When he turned to Katelina, his voice warmed. “Are you coming, Kately?”
“What? You planning to lure Lunch off alone? Fuck, what makes you think Jorick won’t rip your spine out through your mouth?”
“It might surprise you, but I’m not scared of him,” Verchiel said. “Or of you, for that matter.”
Jorick started forward. Katelina shoved between the three of them. “Would you grow up, Micah? Jorick doesn’t own me, I can go where I want.” Not that she wanted to go near a raging fire.
Micah sniggered. “Sure you can go where you want, princess, as long as you get permission first. And since daddy ain’t gave it to you—”
With a snarl she grabbed Micah by the front of his shirt. “Jorick isn’t my ‘daddy’ and you sure as hell aren’t either.” She pushed him away and strode toward the exit. “Come on, Verchiel. We have a fire to look at.”
She marched outside. By the time she reached Verchiel’s bright orange car, some of her fury had evaporated. She glanced back at the motel, half hoping Jorick would stop her. She could put up a good fight to save face, then ultimately surrender.
Except he didn’t come. There was only Verchiel and Micah. They were almost to the car when Loren and Xandria popped out from behind the building. A few words, and the teen joined them, leaving Xandria to wander toward the open motel door.
Micah stopped next to the car. “Get your ass in. I call shotgun.”
Katelina thought about using Micah as an excuse not to go—she didn’t want to go with him—but they shuffled her into the backseat before she could.
The doors were barely closed when Verchiel dropped the car into gear and squealed out of the parking lot. Katelina looked from the smoke, to the motel shrinking away behind them. She wished she hadn’t let Micah piss her off.
They followed the highway, roaring through the roadblock, then took a right and sped straight toward the wall of smoke. Verchiel gunned it. The distance between them and the fire disappeared quickly. The haze grew thicker. Glowing embers blew on the wind, mixed with ash. Another roadblock rose up from the gloom, peppered with firetrucks and bright spotlights, baby flames just beyond it.
A fireman waved them to stop. Verchiel jumped the road and zipped off across the grass.
Katelina bounced around the backseat, slamming into Loren. “What in the hell…are you…doing?”
“We need to go around the fire, unless you want to go through it,” he called over his shoulder.
“Wouldn’t it be smarter to take roads?” Loren clung to the back of Verchiel’s seat.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I left it in Ohio!” Katelina’s eyes were locked on the glowing mass to their right. Thanks to the wind, the majority of smoke blew in the other direction. She could see where the fire met the land; where the earth turned black, the grass a tangled mass like barbed wire. Embers whirled, occasionally hitting the windows. She felt the heat through the glass, a warning to get away.
This is stupid.
Verchiel steered around a dip in the land, but hit a little hillock that sent them flying. Katelina’s scream cut off when they landed with a jolt.
“Maybe you’d feel better if you put on your seatbelt?” The Executioner suggested.
Micah laughed loudly. “Quit bein’ a pussy, Lunch.”
Another hill and hard landing followed. Katelina yelped, which earned a snicker from Micah.
“Don’t look,” Verchiel s
aid. “But I think the wind is changing.”
Katelina followed his nod to see a wall of smoke billowing toward them. Before she could form a thought other than, “Oh shit,” they were enveloped in the churning, fog-like mass.
“It’s fine,” Verchiel assured her. “My eyes are better than yours.”
She half shrieked, “I’m one of you now, remember? I can see the same things you can.”
“Then you can see we’re fine!”
A dip sent them flying again. Katelina slammed into the back of Micah’s seat. She tasted blood as she bit through her lip.
The car bounced along. The glowing orange smoke got thicker. It oozed through the cracks. The smell of fire choked Katelina’s nose and mouth. If she was mortal, she’d probably suffocate.
Thank God Xandria didn’t come. If only I’d stayed with her!
The interior warmed as embers fell around the car like snowflakes. Katelina and Loren scooted to the middle of the seat, pressed together, desperate to escape the burning hot windows.
The curtain of smoke suddenly parted. Katelina bit back a scream as they hurtled into a wall of throbbing flames.
Verchiel slammed the gas. The car leapt forward. They sped over uneven ground, fire licking the windows.
“Look, dude, I don’t want to sound like a coward or anything,” Loren began.
“Yeah, yeah, we need to get out of here. My poor paint,” Verchiel added.
“Your paint?” Katelina cried. “What about us?”
“We’ll heal. But if I have to get this recoated, they’ll make me pay for it.”
Terror overrode her anger. She made a mental note to lecture him later—if they survived.
They hit another dip and went flying. Fire and smoke blurred past the window. The car slammed to a stop. She flew forward, the gear shift rushing toward her face.
Chapter Eleven
Katelina choked on a scream. The gearshift missed her face by inches. She waited to make sure she was still alive. Outside, the world roared and crackled, snapping, burning. The car revved, but didn’t move.
Katelina leaned up. Micah came into focus, his hand to his face. Blood seeped between his fingers. The windshield in front of him was spider webbed. The shattered edges gleamed in the dancing firelight. Verchiel was a blur in the driver’s seat. Katelina shook the daze away to see his head slumped forward, face smashed against the steering wheel.
Goddess of Night (Amaranthine Book 9) Page 17