by M. P. Taylor
“I will,” he promised her. I believe his promise.
“I've got some people coming to get us out of here. They'll ask you a lot of questions, you need to be honest with them. Trust me, they'll know if your lying,” they broke their happy little hug and considered me as I spoke, “I wish I had answers for you, but I'm still trying to figure out what's happening.”
Ethan nodded, “I'll tell you everything I know if it can help you get these bastards.”
I offered a smile, trying to be reassuring, “Like I said. There will be questions. For now, I think you two earned a bit of alone time. Chances are you won't have a ton of it in the coming hours.”
They thanked me for that, seemingly content with my words, and sat down to talk to one another. I couldn't help but watch them for a time.
Ethan was such a horribly ugly, mutated thing, but one wouldn't know it from looking at Jessica. She just leaned into his chest and spoke to him in a whispering tone. Her words were silent so that I couldn't hear but I knew their contents. She was telling him that she loved him. That nothing had changed between them even as everything had. He buried his head in her shoulder and returned the words.
It made me jealous.
The emotion took me by surprise but couldn't be denied. How nice it would have been to be able to do that, to accept someone no matter what they had become. It made me feel lonely. How many years had it been since I'd even been on a date, three perhaps. The worse part was, even though I longed for such love, I wouldn't bother pursing it. Love wasn't in the cards for me, never had been. Didn't deserve it anyways.
I turned away from that pleasant sight and moved to one that I was more comfortable with. Erik's sundered body.
It was leaking a reddish ichor on the ground from a dozen different chunks of meat. It was blood, but not the kind the men possessed – their bodies processed the vital essence of humans into a sort of gelatinous goo of the same color. It gave them their abilities. Strength, speed, and that venom which made victims weak with lust. It all boiled down to that red goo that was commonly called 'vampire dust', a hardly fitting name.
If I had the proper tools, I would have gathered the contents up and sold it on the gray market. It always had a good price as it acted as a sort of aphrodisiac. In addition, large amounts made one stronger and faster, much like a vampire.
I didn't have the tools to contain it but that sadness was short lived. There was something there worth a great deal more than some goo.
The blood knights blade, forged from the breath of an elder dragon, laid untouched on the ground. The vampire dust might have been worth a fortune, but the blade was priceless. It had the power to break magic just by touch alone.
I'd learned that lesson the hard way when Irena, Erik's captain, had driven a blade through my chest. She could have killed me, she didn't. I hoped she wouldn't regret that decision given that I was now standing over the remains of her subordinate.
Putting my staff aside, I grabbed the blade and lifted it up with a swift motion. It was light, far more so than I had expected. I slashed the air, the blade roared with a clean cutting noise that was incredibly satisfying to hear. Spoils of war.
A rational thought told me not to take the blade, that it would bring more attention than it merited. That thought was blocked out by the raw power I felt coming from the thing. I wanted to study it, learn from it and to make my own one day. That was the thing about wizards, when you flashed a shiny toy in front of our eyes we can't resist. Something made by a dragon, an elder beast forged from the first fires, was among the shiniest things of shiny things.
Erik's belt didn't quite fit on me. It was also covered in blood. Neither of these fact stopped me from grabbing it and the scabbard. I sheathed the blade and took it as my own. Worse come to worse and someone took offense at Erik's death, it would help to have something like the blade on me.
Besides, I hadn't technically killed Erik. That honor belonged to Ethan.
The two love birds settled down and we waited for our ride.
No police showed up. That was a small mercy given just how many rounds I'd fired off today. It was a low caliber and I doubted the noise carried very far. There was also the old adage that proved true time and time again, people didn't want to get involved. Be it a monster or a bullet, sane people would rather just get out of the way.
That begged the question of why I happened to run towards monsters, “I'm insane?”
“Did you say something?” Ethan asked from his shelter.
I shrugged and waved him off, “Nothing. I just talk to myself sometimes.”
What was one more person who thought I was crazy?
The truck came earlier than I expect, about fifteen minutes in total. I watched from behind the fence as four men came storming out of the back. All of them wielded staffs in their hands and had heavy auras of power about them. They'd already cast their wards and were ready for battle. A battle that I doubt many would win given that they were justicars. I was only half trained in combat magic and these guys had been scrapping with monsters and mages for years, possibility centuries.
It was a bit reassuring to see that when I barked, they came running. Meant that I was still one of them. Even the black sheep was part of the flock.
“Hole's over here,” I told them, pointing to where I'd, made a clean entrance onto the property.
They looked at me, shrugged, and one of them blasted open the main gateway. It was a force of power without any flair of elemental taint. The iron gateway skid across the ground, far out of the way on the other side of the lot. Plenty of room for the van to get in which it soon did, along with the escorts who I went out to greet.
As with all lawmen, it was best to show that one was unarmed. I put my staff down, showed my hands and still two of them leveled their own staffs at me. I prepared a ward but didn't actually invoke it. Not that it would have mattered. Each one of them was more then a match for me. Ward or no, I'd be dead within a few seconds if they wanted it to be so.
One of them, their leader by the way the others glanced at him for order, gestured for me to come forward, “Vane?”
“The one and only,” I said in a light tone, hoping to defuse their serious tone.
His eyes narrowed, apparently not liking my tone, “You and your companions will surrender yourselves for interrogation. Any resistance on your part will be seen as treason. The Third Blade has allowed for the use of deadly force under such an occasion. Do I have your complete cooperation, Miss Vane?”
That seemed unnecessarily hostile but I didn't think it wise to tell them that, “Yes.”
“Good,” he clicked his fingers and made a 'come here' motion towards the crate where Ethan and Jessica were hiding. Their heads peeked around the corner like something from Scooby Doo.
I gave the thumbs up, “Come on. These are the folks.” I then turned towards the justicars, “Heads up on one of them. Had a bad run in with a spirit. Looks like the bad side of a fried cat.”
“A what?”
“Like that,” I pointed to Ethan who walked out from the shipping crate.
His massive form put the whole of the justicars on edge. If I hadn't given a warning, I doubted they would have held back. Some things, like Ethan's mutated appearance, just told one to fight or die. The eater had turned him into a predator and wizards were very smart creatures. We knew the purpose of his hideous claws and deadly strength. I hadn't really given much thought to how they might take it. I'd told Natasha that there was an ugly friendly with us, but it was clear this wasn't what the justicars had in mind.
The tension was thick. A quick move from Ethan and they'd rip him apart with more magic than I'd be able to defend against. I was something of a prodigy of magic, having access to a deep pool of arcane energy, but it wouldn't amount to anything against them.
Salvation came when a wispy woman joined the beast.
Jessica walked up and placed herself under his absent arm, her own wrapped about his waist. Thos
e eyes of hers were heavy from recent tears of joy, but that was hidden under a determined look – warning the justicars back from the one she loved.
Jessica didn't have much power, but her humanizing gesture, a simple hug, towards Ethan helped show his nature.
The justicars hesitated. Their commander gave me an odd look, “What is that thing?”
“Best guess is an eater, dark spirit that possessed the man. Not entirely sure though. Tricked it into a circle and banished the spirit to the winds,” I gestured towards the scattered vampire remains, “He was involved with the creature somehow. Came to blows with it. Then, after I banished the spirit, Ethan – him – helped me out and together we managed to down the blood knight.”
They looked at me, bullshit detectors running on overclock, but that was the secret to being a good bullshitter – just don't lie.
“A blood knight huh?” their captain said with skeptical eye.
I nudged the sword on my belt, “Dragonforged. We can test it if you don't believe me.”
He eyed it with a bit of awe. It quickly vanished, he turned towards me, still with a critical look , but I noted a bit more respect in his posture, “Not bad for someone on their first century.”
“Thank you."
I didn't bother filling him in on the fact that Ethan had been the one to save my neck. Erik, poor bald vampire bastard that he was, had been turned to pieces the moment Ethan's impossibly strong hand got a hold of him.
I claimed spoils, “My kill, my weapon.”
The justicar leader nodded his head in acceptance.
It was a simple principle to some, but among the elders it was law. The exact law being, 'What is taken by one's hand and blood is one's property.'
It might have seemed like a bit of overkill to make a law of it, but such things were important to wizards. We often hunted monsters as a matter of profession. Eyes, blood, and skin from various creatures could all be of great use – the currency of my world.
Something like the blood knight's blade was basically a giant gold bar.
“The right to claim is yours,” he confirmed.
“Thank god for that. Now can we do something about my arm or am I going to have to cut it off?” the pain had mostly numbed into a sort of weariness. I could ignore it for the sake of getting my house in order, but the sooner I got a fleshcrafter, the better.
As if on cue a familiar face exited out the back of the truck, “Oh, Harold. How nice to see you?”
The medical student and part time wizard looked at me, then at the scene of bloodshed, and shook his head.
He'd made it clear that he hadn't liked me the last time we meet in my apartment with Gerald. Didn't blame him. He wasn't getting paid to do calls for me all day, and he'd just patched me up a bit ago. Told me to rest on it and here I was, fighting another blood knight.
“Vane,” he said with a nod, his voice calm and professional.
The justicars spread out and let the fleshcrafter get to work.
Harold insisted on not performing surgery in the back of a van, something that inspired confidence. One justicar held watch over me and Harold while the rest went to examine Ethan. They'd probably use some curses to weaken him and ensure his cooperation for the duration of the investigation, common stuff. I hoped they told Ethan that before trying. Things would get rather complicated if he didn't take well to have spells cast at him.
“You and Gerald,” the fleshcrafter said while kneeling down, “Did your master teach you to fight monsters head first?”
A momentary anger swelled at the mention of Theron. I let it pass.
Harold had been trying to make a joke, to lessen the mood. I wondered if that was typical banter between himself and Gerald. I forced a soft smile but said nothing.
“This will hurt,” a tense cramp went up my arm as Harold began his spell.
Fleshcrafting wasn't clean work.
Stitching muscles, skin and bone required a good deal of effort and a whole lot of pain. Nerves, proteins and everything between needed to be created, then molded and twisted into position. New pains, one's I didn't even know existed, came into being as he stretched freshly made flesh into position and began to layer skin upon itself.
The tool of his trade was a small blackened wand that looked as though it had been stained by blood.
“You should clean that thing,” I muttered between groans.
“Hm? Oh, the wand,” a smile came to his lips, “Not much point. It would be bloodied again in a few hours.”
“Damn!” I swore and a very unladylike manner, “Don't suppose you could knock me out for this?”
“No,” his voice was as merciless as his magic, “It heals better if you feel pain. The nerves move and fill in right that way. Your wounds from the other night, when you were knocked out, are probably a little out of place. Might heal wrong. Worse case you get some cancer or a nerve locks up in a few months.”
“That all,” I favored him with a dour look, “I'm thankful for the help and all but you should really work on your bedside manner.”
Leaning in, he brought his mouth closer to my ear and whispered, “Gerald is missing.”
The words broke any slight merriment I might have had at Erik's death.
Natasha had said she was helping Gerald out. She'd even answered his phone. I hadn't thought much of it at the time. Gerald was Natasha's subordinate so it wasn't terribly unusual that she might be taking official calls from his phone, maybe covering a shift. I should have thought more of it.
Natasha was answering his phone, she had his history of calls and I happened to be on it – the first call in months and then he disappears.
The hostility of the justicars made a bit more sense – I was a suspect.
Chapter Fifteen
My conclusion proved to be true. As soon as my wound was patched up the justicars took it upon themselves to disarm me and place me in the truck.
Ethan and Jessica were brought along as well, making a really tight fight for the group. Justicars flanked me on either side. Both of them looked willing to blow me away at the slightest moment. Formally, I hadn't been charged with anything and I wanted it to stay that way. Couldn't help find Gerald if I was being questioned for hours by Natasha and her people, and I'd be damned if I wasn't going to tear up the city looking for him.
We pulled into the local sanctuary after another twenty minutes of rush hour traffic.
It was a grand hotel, one of those old soul type buildings that had been installed and built upon over time. The result was a regal structure that stood a good eight stories high with beachfront property and a private dock. If one really paid attention it would be easy to notice that there were all too few guest at such a prime hotel. Even during the summer months it was impossible to get a booking despite there rarely being any visitors. Not that anyone would notice, the regional sanctuary was covered in glamour enchantments that ensured it would be left alone by mortals.
Over a broad gate that was flanked by gargoyles read a sign, 'Oakenvale Hotel.'
“Been a while?” the guard captain asked, “Records say you ain't been here since your arrival. Would explain why we've never meet.”
Shrugging, I answered, “Yeah. I'm not really a huge fan of the robes and candle rituals that you guys do at the monthly gatherings. Maybe if I had a better robe.”
That got a snort from the man, “Wish we still did the old fashion rituals. New director has a think for animal sacrifices and orgies.”
I raised an eyebrow, “No robes than?”
A light chuckle came from a few of the men. Jessica and Ethan were silent, looking slightly uncomfortable, which was impressive given Ethan's hideous body.
I didn't blame them for thinking animal sacrifices and orgies were a bit off.
To an outsider, such a ritual probably would make us look like a bunch of sadistic Satan worshipers. The truth was much simpler. Emotions are powerful things and there's nothing like sex to bring about powerful emotions. Joy, dan
ger and orgasmic excitement were all emotional paths that could be exploited in rituals, channeled into arcane energy by a powerful wizard.
It might seem like an incredibly intimate thing, sex, but most members of the wizard community were centuries old – an odd ritual orgy ever now and again wasn't a big deal. Oh, and the blood was just used to as a conduit – think electrical wiring for big spells but instead of electricity it was arcane energy.
Given my knowledge was purely academic on the matter. The thought of sex was something that made me sick. Having a demon claw through your mind made intimacy, even that of a massed orgy, a rather touchy subject. Not that I frowned upon it by any means. Wizards sought power, no reason not to have fun will doing it.
We pulled around to the back of the hotel and onto a service ramp were we could disembark, well away from the sight of mortals. The justicars led us out and then separated us away from one another. I gave Ethan and Jessica my reassurances that all would be fine. They just needed to cooperate and answer all the questions given to them.
I had no idea what would ultimately be done with Ethan. He would never be able to get his old body back. Maybe he'd be able to disappear into the wilderness and become Bigfoot 2.0.
Concern for Ethan was a secondary matter. My mind was focused on Gerald. If something happened to him, I'd truly be alone.
They led me into the far side of facility, into a dark place, an interrogation room to be precise. Steel doors and double sided glass with a single table and two chairs. It might have seemed a bit mundane for 'wizard cops' but they lived by old wisdom, 'don't fix what works' and mortal cops sure as hell knew what worked – as far as intimidation went anyway.
Natasha didn't keep me waiting for long. The door opened and I got chills when my eyes feel upon her.
The Third Blade of the justicars was as hauntingly beautiful as ever. Her scar looked as though it had been treated with fleshcrafting. It wasn't quite as unsightly as before and seemed to have been contained to the bottom right portion of her jawline. It allow the symmetry of her marred features to truly stand out. Chief among those were her eyes. Fierce, confident and perhaps a little judgmental. They feel upon me with a practiced expression of neutrality.