“Come on!” Mike charged into the corner, using his makeshift flamethrower to break a path through the vampire mass. Screams filled the air, not unlike the one that Sylvan had uttered when Mike had blown up his face. Mike thrust his pick into the first vampire he saw. The body disintegrated, like Mike had seen before, but the transformation still caught him off guard. Mike’s eyes were clouded with dust, and he was momentarily blinded… he tried to wipe his eyes clean…
Then he was shoved to the ground.
Mike flailed as something jumped on him from behind. He succeeded in flipping his assailant off, then rolled backwards, only to see the ugliest piece of vampire breath a foot away from his face. The creature lunged for him. Mike grabbed the vampire’s throat, trying to push him away, but it was too strong… he pressed on the creature’s Adam’s apple, scratched at his face… but the vampire kept coming, his mouth getting way too close to Mike’s skin…
Foosh.
Out of nowhere, the body disintegrated into ash. Mike coughed and spit and rubbed the soot out of his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw a hand reaching down, offering to pick him up.
It was Laura Stetson’s.
Mike took her hand and let her pull him to his feet. They stared at each other for a moment.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
“Look out,” Laura yelled, and thrust a knife right past Mike’s ear. Mike ducked, only to see the knife wedged in some vampire’s forehead. Laura thrust a stake into the guy’s heart, and he disintegrated.
“Later?” Mike suggested.
Laura nodded. And even smiled a little. “Yeah, later.”
She ran off towards another group of Slayers who seemed to be having trouble, and left Mike standing all by himself in the corner, as if he was the school bully who’d done something bad.
All of a sudden, the wooden doors splintered. In walked a man wearing black robes like he was at graduation, except without a tassel. He thrust a hand forward, and black ooze shot forth. It nailed a Slayer in the back, causing his limbs to jerk forward uncontrollably. Mike’s eyes widened as the kid screamed, the ooze eating its way through his flesh.
Mike snapped to attention. He grabbed his necklace and screamed in his mind, Get out, the Brethren are here!
We can’t just leave the Slayers, Mike! It was Zachariah’s voice. Which was actually a mild shock.
Fine, just get over here and help me with this guy!
Mike released his Amp and threw a hand at the robed intruder. The magician must not have seen it coming, because he flew backwards, slamming into the Slayer throne.
Not waiting for the guy to get up, Mike grabbed electricity from above in his mind and directed it at the magician. But it was the first time he’d ever done it. He missed his target by a mile—
And hit the silver throne instead.
The chair caught and electrified, sending shockwaves throughout the sorcerer’s body. He jerked uncontrollably and fell off.
Then he was still.
“Seems you can handle him by yourself,” Zachariah said as he and Annabella came running up. Annabella went to check the guy’s pulse. She waited for a minute, then shook her head.
“You got him,” she said, and shrugged.
The magnanimity of what he’d just done hit Mike in the face. He staggered for a moment… he’d just killed somebody…
“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to…”
“What, kill him?” Zachariah said. “What would you have preferred? You wanted him to kill you?”
Mike looked around, not wanting to think about it. He’d ended a life… and yes, the guy wouldn’t have hesitated to end his, but it was still somebody’s brother, son, maybe father…
No. He couldn’t think like this. If he was going to be an effective soldier – no, if he was going to stay alive – then he had to forget these kinds of emotions. The Brethren were trying to kill him. For no other reason than because he was a Guardian. They were trying to kill him…
Mike repeated that thought in his brain until it was crystal clear. If the options were either to kill someone or die – especially if that someone was trying to kill him first – Mike would take the former a million times over.
The defeat of the Brethren warrior seemed to take the wind out of the vampire hordes. Some ran for the doors. Others were distracted enough to get vaporized by the Slayers. Finally, the battle died down, until the only ones left in the room were Guardians and Slayers.
Mike counted eight bodies on the floor, not including the dead Brethren warrior, who Mike still couldn’t bring himself to look at. None of the bodies were Guardians. Steph was already going from person to person, seeing if there was anything she could do for them. She spent several seconds uttering spells. Within moments five of them were sitting up. Three of the bodies she left alone. The guy who had been hit with the black goo was literally gone, his body devoured up by the horrific spell.
Mike went over to one of the bodies, which was facedown on the tiled mosaic. Pangs of grief hit him in the stomach as his thoughts turned to Toad. Then, to his own surprise, Mike found himself uttering a small prayer. He wasn’t even sure to whom. He just asked that this kid’s soul – and it looked like a kid, maybe his age – be ferried across to whatever land it was supposed to go, to be treated with respect and honor. And somehow, tears came to Mike’s eyes, and he got all choked up. This could’ve been him. He could’ve been born into a Slayer lineage, instead of a Guardian one… Mike’s chest burned, as if something deep inside was reminding him why he was put into a Guardian body. To be able to help. To protect Gargoyles. To save people like the kid on the floor.
Mike heard a snort from behind him. He looked up, only to see Cassandra standing over him, a snarl on her face and a small blade in her outstretched hand, pointed at Mike. “Before I kill you for leading the Brethren to our hideout… leave this place. And never come back.”
Mike rose slowly. The blade wasn’t exactly at his throat, but it was pretty close, and he had no doubt that Cassandra could wield that thing like it was attached to her hand…
“Are you insane?” Zachariah came over. “What exactly would you have done about that guy over there?” Zachariah pointed towards the dead Brethren warrior by the throne. “You should be kissing our feet for saving your asses!”
“Or slitting your throats for leading them to us,” Cassandra snapped, refusing to sheathe her weapon. She stepped over a dead body to get to her throne, then sat down gingerly. Steph made her way over to her mother and ran her fingers over the afflicted shoulder.
“Finish the spell, then leave with your clan.”
Steph looked at the floor, obviously hurt, but she finished her incantations anyway. When she was done, Cassandra tried out her newly-repaired shoulder. “Thanks, dear.” Cassandra stroked Steph’s hair in a creepy sort of way, her designer-long fingernails scratching their way through Steph’s dirty-blonde locks.
What a crazy, hideous, maniacal ingrate… Mike was starting to understand why Steph spent most of her time at the Manor, even though she and Garzan weren’t exactly close. Which reminded Mike to call Alexis – that was her name, right, the girl who was taking care of the Headmage – as soon as they were out of there—
Wait, where was she?
Mike scanned the room for Laura, but he didn’t see her…
Of course not.
She didn’t care enough to stick around. To talk for a minute, to catch up, to see how he was doing…
Mike cleared phlegm from his mouth and spit on the floor, not caring that he was right in Cassandra’s line of sight. He was disgusted with how things had turned out. He waved the Guardians towards the elevator shaft, barely able to control his frustration.
“Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
But there was one more thing he wanted to do first.
He waited for the opportune moment. Then, as Steph walked past, Mike grabbed her arm and whispered in her ear.
“Th
is is not over.”
Steph stared at him from out of the corner of her eye. Then she ripped her arm away and stomped towards the exit.
Chapter Thirty Five
Mike stormed out of the warehouse and stalked away from the group, heading towards the vehicles. He needed to be alone. Whether it was the embarrassment that his mission had gone awry, or his being upset that Laura had avoided him… maybe the concept that Steph could be the spy, or maybe the fact that his freaking life was in danger… whatever it was, his nerves were on edge. Mike walked towards the pier, hands in his pockets, staring at the sky. It was a clear night, with few clouds. He was sweating in his leather outfit, but the wind off of the Hudson River blew salty, cool air in his face, which helped with the heat. Water lapped against the wood. The sound was calming, allowing him to relax just enough to realize he had phone calls to make. Or necklace calls, as it were.
Alexis reported no improvement with the Headmage, but no decline in his health, either, which was probably the best news they could hope for. Mom didn’t respond, but Mike had expected that – she had said she’d be in touch with them, not the other way around. Jakkus or Yaris didn’t respond to Mike’s Amp, either, which worried Mike much more than his mother’s silence. He hadn’t heard anything from them since they had left Blackrock Castle, and he was starting to think that if he found Jakkus and Yaris, he would find the rest of the clan. Whether that was a good thing or not, he didn’t know.
The Guardians retreated to Windham Manor for the remainder of the night and a good part of the morning. Steph volunteered to take the first watch, and although Mike didn’t like it, he realized he couldn’t stop her from being a Guardian just because he suspected her. Even Mike realized he needed Steph around; she was one of only three healers, and the other two were busy trying to keep the Headmage alive.
He tossed and turned all night, rotating through a series of dreams that depicted his own demise. He first dreamt that Steph turned him over to Dementae – even though he didn’t know what Dementae looked like – who promptly killed him. Then it was Aaron’s turn to become a traitor, this time betraying the clan to Cassandra, who slit everybody’s throats. Finally, and most troublesome, his mom came riding in with an army of gargoyles, obliterating the Skyfires and claiming the world as her own.
The last dream woke Mike in a cold sweat. He jerked upright in bed, screaming at the top of his lungs. This roused Aaron, who had brought his mattress into their room and slept on the floor, just to be safer. Aaron cursed Mike out with various colorful words, then went back to sleep. JB was out, still working on the tapes; otherwise Mike guessed he would’ve woken him, too.
But he couldn’t go back to sleep. He knew he was being paranoid; his mom wasn’t a traitor, that was ridiculous. But Steph… for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
If he had it right, things had gone down like this: the Skyfires, for some reason, had proposed to reopen an alliance with the Slayers. This had caused—
Wait.
That made no sense.
Garzan himself had said that contact with the Slayers would put the clan in mortal danger. Mike had experienced that firsthand – his mom had been kidnapped by Magistrate DuBois, as a response to Mike’s “parlay with the Slayers.” Even Steph had feigned ignorance when they’d met up with the Slayers in Central Park…
So why had the Headmage himself tried to contact them, to form an alliance with them?
Mike rubbed his temples. This was starting to hurt.
Maybe this had been a secret rendezvous, something the other clans wouldn’t have found out about. Maybe because of Garzan’s relationship with Cassandra, he’d wanted to help them. Maybe there was a difference between a meeting in public and a meeting in private…
Shifting in his bed, Mike forced himself to move on. He didn’t understand why Garzan had tried to make an alliance with the Slayers, but the Headmage definitely had done so. That much was clear. And Cassandra had accepted it, only to have her group murdered the night of the agreement. Except that the Guardians had also been ambushed, as well, which naturally caused both sides to suspect each other and created even more animosity than had been there originally.
Which brought Mike back to Steph. She was both Slayer and Guardian – she would’ve been able to inform the Brethren about both group’s movements. Which would’ve led to the easy ambush.
The thing that kept nagging him was… it was just too easy. Daughter of a secret affair between the leaders of the Slayers and Guardians. Mistreated by both leaders, probably because of their embarrassment from the ordeal. Shuffled back and forth between hideouts. Trained in both Slayer tactics and Guardian magic. It was too perfect.
Besides, there was a decent possibility that he was making this all up. Mike didn’t think so, but he had to admit, it was entirely possible. There could’ve easily been someone else running behind the Guardians’ backs, someone he haven’t even met... and then he would be incriminating Steph without so much as a shred of evidence… just because he thought she was acting weird didn’t mean she actually was… after all, how long had he known her? A week? And how much time had they spent together, exactly?
Mike punched his pillow in frustration. The whole situation was infuriating.
He realized there was only one thing he could do to make himself calm down again. He threw off his bed sheets and headed for the door.
Steph? Mike thought as he touched his Amp. He knew he wouldn’t be waking her – she was on duty now with Annabella.
For a moment, there was no response, and Mike thought she would ignore him. Then:
Yes, Mike?
Can we talk?
Steph didn’t respond.
Please? I just need to—
Greeting Hall, five minutes.
Mike sighed with relief. He went to get socks and shoes, then looked for his running shorts.
***
“Hey,” Mike said as Steph hit the bottom of the girls’ stairwell. She was dressed casual, in jeans and a white tank-top. Mike smiled to himself. Even at a time like this, she could look totally chilled. And pretty beautiful.
“What’s up, Mike.” Steph said it as a statement. Her hands were jabbed into her pockets, and her hair hung loosely around her shoulders.
“Listen, I’ve been a bit… nuts lately.” Mike stared at the floor, searching for the right words. “I’ve become a bit paranoid about Garzan’s spy theory, and, well, I just wanted to...” A dry spell hit Mike’s throat, and he coughed.
“And you thought it was me.” Steph stared at him.
Mike met her gaze for a moment. She was piercing, angry… insulted. Then he glanced away.
“Yeah, I guess.”
Steph stood there for a long time. Then she smirked, ever so slightly. “Funny, I thought it was you.”
Mike looked up. “What?”
“Come on, Mike. You’re descended from Rafael. You were the target of the vampire kidnap attempt, which resulted in our leaving Windham and Toad getting killed. Then you led us straight to the Slayers, where we were ambushed by a million vampires. So who’s been shadier these days, me or you?”
“But that’s ridicu—”Mike stopped himself. It wasn’t all that ridiculous, actually. From an educated bystander, it was actually pretty logical.
“Does anyone else think like you?”
Steph nudged a pebble with the toe of her sneaker. “I don’t know. But I can’t imagine why it wouldn’t cross their minds. Unless I’m way off here. I mean, I know my dad said you weren’t the spy, but he ended up in a coma.”
Mike didn’t have a chance to respond, because he heard a voice in his head.
Mike?
It was Julius Brutus’s.
Mike fumbled for the Amp that lay on his chest, then touched it with a finger.
Yeah, JB?
Uh… about the video…
There was a long pause.
There’s something I think you should see.
Chapter Thi
rty Six
Mike loathed to leave his conversation unfinished, but JB sounded pretty desperate, and Steph agreed to wait for him in the Greeting Hall. He invited her, but she made some excuse about not wanting to be bothered with that stuff.
As he turned into the stairwell, Mike saw Zachariah and Annabella heading in that direction, as well. That got him nervous.
“You got JB’s message, too?” he said warily.
“Yeah,” Zachariah said, yawning. He’d probably been staying up with Annabella during her watch.
“You know what this is about?” Annabella asked.
Mike shook his head. “Not at all.”
The surveillance room was in the basement, next to the Sparring arena. The place looked like a hacker’s haven. Which it very well might have been, if Julius Brutus had enough time to work. JB sat in front of three computer screens. There were a bunch of computer towers set up around the room, each with a security camera plugged into them. Mike noticed the empty soda bottles and bags of potato chips.
Julius Brutus nibbled on his fingernails. “Um, here’s the deal, kids.” Mike thought it was funny that JB was referring to them as kids – as if he himself wasn’t one – but let him continue. “When I went through the video the first time, I found a charm that was placed on the cameras. Simple, nothing elaborate, but a charm nonetheless.”
Zachariah said, “Which means somebody altered them?”
“Precisely,” Julius Brutus said, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “After I disabled the charm – pretty easy, actually – I found, um, well…”
Julius Brutus stopped and sputtered, as if he were a car engine that just wouldn’t start.
“What is it, JB?” Mike said.
Julius Brutus swallowed. “Um, why don’t you look for yourself?”
He hit a button on one of the computers, and the screen came to life. “Here’s the original video.” The screen showed a mob of angry vampires swarming into the Greeting Hall like ants fleeing an anthill, along with several black-robed magicians firing spells everywhere. A few Guardians ran into the room, only to fall to the massive invading army.
The Guardian Lineage Page 21