by Rob Cornell
“Shit, brother,” Sly said. “Get hold of yourself.”
I snapped my head around to glare at him. “Are you on her side, then? You want her to commit suicide to keep some stupid artifact hidden?”
He held out his hands. “I didn’t say that. But you look ready to kill us all.”
I raised my fists in front of me and looked down at the blaze that surrounded them. I didn’t bother trying the calming tricks. I forced the flames to die with angry will. The act shot sparks of pain up my spine and straight into the back of my neck. I nearly dropped to my knees, but used the counter to help keep my feet again.
“We’ll destroy it,” I said. “You said it’s made of hummingbird feathers? Should burn easily.”
Mom took a single stop forward. She reached out to me, but there was too much distance between us. “Don’t you think we would have thought of that? There isn’t a way to destroy it. We searched for some ritual or place that could. We found nothing.”
“It can’t be indestructible,” I snapped. “Every artifact has its Mount Doom, the pit of flames to cast it in.”
“The hummingbird feathers are the feathers of a god. We came to the conclusion that only another god could rend it apart.”
“Then we summon a god.”
The words came out my mouth before the rational part of my brain could stop me. Gods weren’t like demons. You couldn’t just call one down with a ritual. The gods did as they pleased without any concern for the will of mortals—unless our will entertained them in some way.
Mom didn’t correct me. She knew I knew better.
“This is so fucked up.”
I turned toward the voice. Green stood at the edge of the kitchen. He had lifted the tipped chair and righted it. He had lost some of the slack-jawed stoner gape. The pot couldn’t keep even him numbed enough to sit back. “You can’t let your mom just…die.”
I spat a short laugh. “Tell that to her.”
“Judith,” Sly said tentatively. “Sebastian's right.”
Mom studied us each in turn. “You boys realize I don’t want to die. There’s just no other way to keep the cloak out of their hands.”
“This is different than before,” I said. “They don’t have you like they did. If they can’t get to you, they can’t get to the cloak. Fuck the cloak, all right? You are the precious artifact here. You are the one we need to protect.”
Her mouth curled slightly. It would have been a total Mona Lisa smirk if not for the sparkle in her eyes. “I’d rather not be referred to as an artifact. I’m not that old.”
My simmering magical energy cooled some.
“But you are precious,” I said.
I pushed away from the counter, crossed to her, and hugged her tightly. I could feel her own stirred magic against me. We’d both let our emotions get the better of us. After a few seconds, though, we let our power sink back to its natural state, always ready to wield, but safely held in place until needed.
We parted, shared a smile.
“So,” she said. “I’m your artifact. What are you going to do with me?”
“I wish we had someone in the Ministry we could trust,” I said. “Someone who could give us a better idea of what we’re up against.”
Sly snorted. “Good luck, brother.”
I made a face at him. “Not helpful.”
“Sebastian, what about Markus?”
Oh, yeah. The first cat who had tried to kill me. “After what happened between us, I’m not sure he’s someone we can count on for help.”
“He was protecting that house,” she said. “He was looking for who was behind what happened there. He’s looking for the same thing we are.”
It sounded good. It also sounded too easy. And there was still that whole cat connection. “You think the fact that he shifts into a cat like Glass did, and they both attacked me, that it’s a coincidence?”
Sly scrunched up his face. “Cats? What cats?”
I guess we hadn’t had a chance to tell about that part. “Ask me again some time.”
“Markus is part druid,” Mom said. “We know now Glass was a mage. He must have been a practicing Animagus. It’s a completely different thing.”
“It’s still the same kind of animal.”
“A panther is not a cougar.”
“Now you’re just splitting hairs.”
“You know what?” I held up my hands. “Let’s forget it. Going to anyone in the Ministry is a bad idea. I should never have mentioned it.”
“We can’t face the conspirators on our own, Sebastian. Your instincts are right. We need our own man on the inside. And if Markus were at all involved, I would have remembered.”
“Unless he never told you.”
She paused, put a hand on her hip, and looked me over. “This isn’t about Markus at all, is it?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“This is about Fiona. Her betrayal.”
“This has nothing to do with her.”
But was that true? I hadn’t thought much about Fiona since Mom told me she’d killed Dad. I had gathered a lot on my plate since then. She was sitting in a corner of my subconscious, though, wasn’t she? All the times we’d made love. The first time she trusted me enough to shapeshift into her tiger form in front of me. The extreme level of care she had given Mom when Mom had been stuck in the nursing home.
All of that sullied by the truth—that none of it was real, all just a ploy to get close to me and Mom, to report on us, to set us up.
I wandered to the table and dropped into the chair next to the spot the one I’d kicked away had stood. I rested my elbows on the table and held my head in my hands.
Sly’s chair scraped against the tiles as he pulled himself close. “We’ve got to trust someone, brother. The only other option is going on the run for the rest of your life. These folks don’t sound like they’re gonna give until they get what they want. Especially when it’s brought on a war with the vamps.”
“Or there’s my plan,” Mom said right behind me.
I glared at her over my shoulder. “Not even funny.”
Her dead stare said clearly she wasn’t joking.
So our options were…
Run away.
Kill Mom.
Trust Markus.
I grunted. “Fine. We’ll feel him out. If he can give us any sense of who’s working for Able and who isn’t, that would go a long way.”
“Good,” Mom said.
“But,” I added, and pointed at her. “You are going to do some more research on how we might destroy the cloak.”
“You’ll need me with you to talk to Markus.”
I thought about their extra closeness in the limo. I did not want to see that shit again. Besides, I had better reason for wanting her to stay behind. “You’re biased toward him. It’s better to have a skeptic talk to him. I need to make sure he’ll root for our side. I just need you to set up the meet.”
She sighed, nodded.
I turned to Sly. “Do whatever you can to help her. If we can blow that fucking thing up, this all goes away.”
“Right,” he said. “There’s just one last thing.”
I didn’t like his tone. I’d had enough bad news, for the gods’ sake. “What?”
“Odi.”
Chapter Forty
The stairs down to Sly’s basement creaked underfoot. The basement was finished. Drywall, carpeting, a pool table, an old projection television right out of the ‘80s, Sly’s favorite decade. Framed photos of Michael Jackson, Devo, Lita Ford, and a number of interchangeable hair bands adorned the walls, some of them autographed.
Unlike the rest of his house, the smell of marijuana permeated the space. An IKEA coffee table in front of the TV had a water bong on it about the height of a toddler. I didn’t go over and sniff it, but I had little doubt the leather sofa would positively reek.
Sadly, a few of Sly’s ode to the ‘80s pictures had hung on the now scorched wal
l and hadn’t survived Odi’s flames.
In front of the blackened wall, Sly had, appropriately, put down Odi’s casket.
I crossed the basement, rounded the pool table, drawing my fingers across the soft felt, then crouched next to the coffin. It had lost its shine in the process of taking it out of Toft’s lair. I created a curved streak through the dust with my hand, then wiped my hand clean on my pants. Who cared? They were already a mess.
“I’m sorry, man. I don’t know what to do with you. I can’t…I can’t just bring you a sacrifice to feed on. Would pig blood do it?”
I didn’t know, and Odi wasn’t offering any answers through the lid of his coffin. I did know they drank it socially. Barry had kept a supply at the switch, would pour it into wine glasses, and his undead customers would drink it up and make their lips glisten as if covered in cherry sauce.
Thinking of Barry depressed me more than I already was.
This was the kind of situation the term FUBAR was made for.
Where could I get pig blood on such short notice? Make a trip to the butcher? Hello, I need four gallons of pig blood, or cow blood if you’ve got it.
Honestly, I doubted it would work well enough to revive him. He needed good, strong blood from…
“Holy shit,” I whispered. I touched the puckered scar from not one, but two separate vamp bites. One from a vamp sent to capture and turn me. The other from Goulet himself, in yet another attempt to corrupt my soul.
That first time, I ended up drinking the blood of a vampire, infecting myself with it. Hence the magical brand on my shoulder to hold it back. After that, rumors started among the undead. Because of the impossible mix of vampire and mortal blood inside of me, my blood was thought to be stronger somehow. It could have been bullshit. After all, it hadn’t helped Goulet stay alive after I unloaded a full mag of silver rounds into his chest.
If it were true? Maybe I could use it to help Odi.
Then, I’m gonna kick his ass for nearly killing us all.
I eased the coffin open. The hinges barely made a sound. I didn’t have to worry about sunlight. The basement only had shallow glass block windows in three places at the top edge of the walls, and Sly had tacked up towels to keep out what little light they let seep through.
Odi lay like a corpse, especially pale against the casket’s blue lining. He was still vamped out. His mouth hung open slightily, giving me a glimpse of his stubby fangs. The vampire equivalent of baby teeth. The hole in his throat had closed to a black spot like a cancerous blotch on the skin. Gross, yes. But at least I couldn’t see inside anymore.
His chest looked a little less concave. I gently pushed on his breastbone and felt a squishy give. If it hurt him, he was too conked out to notice. He didn’t so much as twitch.
If I was going to feed him, I needed to wake him up. I didn’t want to shake him awake. If I startled him, he might attack me. As wounded and out of is as he was, he might fall to his baser vampire instincts. I’d offer him my blood, but I was going to do it on my own terms.
I looked around the basement. My eyes locked on a rack attached to the wall nearest the pool table that held a number of cues. I got the longest of them and stood back from Odi’s coffin, as far as I could while staying close enough to poke him. I probably looked ridiculous. I didn’t care. I would have rather had the proverbial ten-foot pole to touch him with. Alas, a trip to Home Depot wasn’t on the schedule for the day.
I played dirty, because I didn’t have time to waste.
I poked him right in the healing wound in his throat. And I didn’t hold back. I jabbed him a good one.
He snapped awake snarling. Bloody foam flung off his lips. His lips peeled so far back I could clearly see his gray gums. He came out of it so quickly, I didn’t have a chance to pull the pool cue back, and he grabbed it, yanked it out of my hands, nearly bringing me down with it, and would have if I hadn’t let go.
He broke the cue in half and threw the pieces wildly.
One half whizzed over my head.
I ducked.
The other half went harmlessly clattering into a far corner.
Odi’s gaze met mine. The red glow in his eyes turned to pinpricks, the rest of his eyes pure black. From a distance, it looked like a pair of black widow spiders had crawled into his eye sockets.
The air seemed to drop ten degrees. My heart kicked. I drew on the power of the wind and used it to form a shield in front of me. If he launched at me, I could easily block him. I couldn’t keep him from getting hurt, though. If he came at me hard, his vampire strength could work against him, and he might end up breaking a bone or two.
Despite the flash of rage, Odi stayed put. Instead of attacking, he clutched at his sunken chest and screeched in that skull-splitting way only vamps could do. He was too hurt to attack. Which was saying something, because I had seen vampires with missing limbs and half their faces burned off lash out more fiercely than if they’d not been injured at all.
I let my shield drop.
“Odi.”
He hissed at me between his fangs like a feral cat.
“It’s me. It’s Sebastian. Your Jedi master.”
He cocked his head. The red in his eyes expanded like glowing pupils.
“Come on, padawan. Snap out of it.”
For ten seconds or so he stared at me. Then he blinked a few times. His fangs retracted. His skin smoothed and took on a little more color. And, finally, his eyes cleared. He looked like the goofy teen I knew and…liked.
The confusion on his face quickly scrunched up into bald pain. He groaned and dropped onto his side. The coffin door shimmied and almost fell closed. “Ah, fuck. God, fuck.”
I approached him and knelt down beside the coffin. “Odi.”
“What did I do? What the hell did I do?”
“I ain’t gonna sugar coat it. You went ape shit, kid.”
He snuffled and writhed, bumping his head a couple times against the inside wall of the coffin. “I’m dying.”
“Probably feels that way, but you’re a vampire now. For you guys, dying’s a little harder than it looks.”
He gritted his teeth and looked up at me. “Are you enjoying this?”
“You almost killed my mom. So, yeah, I’m savoring.”
“Oh, God.” He kicked at the inside of the coffin like he wanted to break it apart. The thing was made of pretty stern wood, though. This wasn’t some cheap pine box.
“You’re a vampire, Odi. God’s not going to help you.” I didn’t mean it as a barb, but it sounded like one, and Odi reacted in kind.
He shot his hand out, grabbed the front of my shirt, and yanked me down until he had me right in his face. “Stop. Talking.”
His breath smelled like rot. Made me wonder if there was more severe internal damage.
“Fair enough,” I said.
He let me go and went back to squirming in agony.
I stayed close. “I want to say one quick thing, then I’ll shut up.”
He sneered at me. But he didn’t object, so I went with it.
“You need to feed, or it’s going to take you forever to heal.” I kept back the part about how he might die first. He didn’t need to know that. “I want you to feed on me.”
His kicking, his groaning, his cringing all stopped at once. He stared up at me as if I’d asked if I could examine his prostate. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
I shook my head, then I held out my wrist. “Goulet seemed to think my blood had special properties for vampires. Drink.”
“I…I can’t.”
“Sure you can. Just pretend I’m one of the puppets Toft brings you at meal time.”
“You don’t understand.” His face scrunched up in pain again. He pressed a fist against his chest as if holding it in place. “I’ve never…I’ve never fed on a human.”
My mouth dropped open. I think I blubbered a bit.
Never fed on a human? How was that possible? Why?
I didn’t need to ask the qu
estions. Odi knew what they were.
“Toft didn’t want me to. He said…something about keeping me pure.”
Pure.
Man, I had been hit with so many crazy things lately, my brain simply could not accept this one.
Memory full. Please delete applications to make space for new programs.
“What have you been eating?”
“Toft’s blood.”
“You can do that?”
“Blood is blood.” He grimaced against a new shot of pain. He looked so miserable I had some sympathy pains. Especially one spiking through my head. “At least, that’s what Toft says.”
I knew Toft fed on humans. Supposedly willing donors. So, technically, wasn’t Odi drinking human blood via Toft? I did not understand the depths of vampire physiology enough to even guess. You didn’t need to know the digestive system of the undead in order to turn them into dust.
I didn’t have time to learn about it either.
“Well, I hate to take your virginity without buying you dinner first… Oh, wait. Yeah, never mind.” I bent back my hand to give him a cleaner shot at my wrist. “Just drink.”
He clamped his mouth shut and shook his head like a two-year-old who didn’t want to eat his broccoli.
“We don’t have time for this, Odi. If you give a damn about Toft and want to get him back, you need your strength. This is one-hundred percent prime Unturned blood, motherfucker. Not just any vamp can get shit this good.”
He snorted, even managed a smirk. “Are you sure?”
“Don’t ask me that. Just bite me already.”
He looked at my wrist, and I nearly reared back when I saw the hunger in his eyes. He licked his lips, then peeled them back to expose his fangs. I braced myself.
Odi sank his teeth in and started guzzling.
Chapter Forty-One
The face Sly made when I came upstairs with my arm all bloody and fang holes in my wrist almost made me laugh. His eyes went so wide, another centimeter more and I might have caught a glimpse of his brain behind them. His jaw hung loose, not much unlike Green’s did went he was stoned to the gills. In fact, I felt pretty confident Sly would be hitting that bong downstairs first chance he got.