The man hesitated at the large amount of money. He licked his lips suspiciously, glancing left and right as if fearing some trickery. “Is that monster of a dog friendly?” he asked in a rough voice, eyeing Lucian. “I used to have a wolf-mix,” he added sadly. “Miss the mangy bastard.”
Lucian hunkered down to the ground, thumping his tail into the filthy pavement. It helped make him look somewhat less threatening, but he was still impossibly large.
I nodded. “Best wolf-mix I’ve ever seen,” I reassured him, realizing that it was the truth. Werewolves were technically wolf-mixes.
Izzy snatched the cash from Nero’s hand and snapped her fingers at her side. Lucian leapt to his feet, following her as she approached the homeless man with a dazzling smile. “You can pet him if you want,” she said in that tone that all women use to dismantle a man’s wits.
His face crumpled into a joyous smile at her suggestion and he swiped back his hair in a hurried gesture to make himself more presentable to the bombshell deviant. He instantly began shrugging off his coat. “It’s nothing fancy,” he said, looking embarrassed, “but it’s kept me warm on some of the longest, coldest nights. And your friend doesn’t look picky,” he added, glancing at Dracula’s filthy body.
“It’s perfect,” she said. She gripped his arm, establishing human contact to make him feel like the luckiest man in the world, and made the exchange with her undivided attention. It was magical to watch—a man given the proper attention from a beautiful woman was like watching a flower unfolding. She let him pet Lucian a few times, and Lucian had the courtesy not to sneeze at the man’s stench. Then she was walking back to us, draping the coat over her forearm.
The homeless man whistled as he collected his things and departed deeper into the alley, his back straight and his shoulders squared, looking a foot taller than he had minutes ago.
I smiled, recalling how I had done much the same with the homeless people in the underground tunnels, earning their trust by treating them like humans rather than nuisances. Of course, I hadn’t looked as good doing it. But I knew for certain that there was an entrance to the underground nearby. In fact, it was in the basement of an adjacent building to Trinity Church, as fate would have it.
The Nephilim knew all the routes of the underground; it had been their home long before anyone else. Even now, Adam and Eve should be making their way here, with none the wiser. There was no longer any reason to guard my empty castle—no one could penetrate the fog, and there were no more prisoner vampires inside. I had given Adam and Eve specific instructions not to interfere unless I used our unique bond to summon them, or if they sensed reinforcements coming to trap us from outside the church.
But that was my own little secret contingency plan in the event that the exchange with the Sisters didn’t go as planned. After Benjamin’s betrayal and Nosh’s little stunt, I wasn’t feeling particularly trusting. The formal plan was to get the devils and have Nero immediately teleport us out. He had seemed nervous about the idea, knowing well that plans ever went off without a hitch, and that getting us all together in a huddle would be its own complication.
Especially if the Sisters felt buyer’s remorse and decided that they wanted two vampires for two devils, adding me to the negotiation. There was nothing for it, though. Worst case, Nero could take the devils first and leave the rest of us behind with the Nephilim to cover our escape.
Izzy wrapped the long, filthy, threadbare coat around Dracula’s shoulders, and then stepped back with an approving nod. “Good enough.”
Dracula wrinkled his nose, gagging reflexively at the stench, but that was the extent of his complaint. He was walking to the figurative gallows and seemed eager to get it over with already. If I had trusted him to tell me the truth, I would have peppered him with questions, but I couldn’t afford the added time or the distraction of sifting through ultimately worthless information. The only comment he’d made that had given me a chill was when he had learned we were handing him over to the High Priestess. That we were all going to die.
Foreboding, but I didn’t trust him to elaborate. And I had as much backup as I dared without breaking the rules of the exchange. He hadn’t reacted at all to the rumor about him once being romantically involved with the High Priestess either. Perhaps he no longer cared one way or another. Either way, it wouldn’t change my plan in the slightest. Hades had already made it abundantly clear how worthless Dracula was in the larger scheme of things.
I winced at the amount of blood already pooling beneath my boot. “We need to move. Each passing moment diminishes the amount of help I’ll be able to provide.” Nero nodded, tugging Dracula’s chain and muttering at Lucian to look friendlier. “And don’t forget to paw at the floor if you smell anything off,” he reminded Lucian. “Other than this godforsaken coat, of course. Phaw! It’s so unbelievably foul! Like the pungent lust of the most ambitious girl at the second-cheapest brothel in a busy port town.”
Izzy chuckled with a grimace, keeping her distance. “Why not the cheapest brothel in town?”
He glanced at her somberly. “No one goes to the cheapest brothel in town. Better to die a virgin during the plague than go there.” He shuddered and made the sign of the cross.
Dracula glanced up at him with a disgusted look. “What is wrong with you?”
“If you can wear it, I shall bear it,” he intoned. Then he shoved him forward. “From way the fuck back here,” he clarified, letting the leash grow taut.
I motioned them to lead the way since I wasn’t familiar with this part of town. Izzy apparently was, so she confidently led us out of the alley and turned us onto the bustling sidewalk. If I was willing to use my dwindling blood reserves, I could have made it so that crowds subconsciously gave us a wide berth, avoiding us altogether. But I was conserving every drop of blood I could.
The plan was to make the exchange, put a stop to their threats of war, and leave.
My blood reserves should not come into play unless things went terribly wrong.
Even knowing that we would likely see Benjamin here, I had told everyone to let him be—unless Lucian was able to use his undeniable alpha status to instantly subjugate him and silently force him to follow us back home. Maybe even turn him and use him as a meat shield if we needed to beat a hasty retreat with the devils.
Otherwise, we would leave him for a later date. He wasn’t worth the trouble.
Izzy’s bright red hair and bubbly smile drew a lot of attention from young men in suits and expensive shoes, but the giant wolf at her side sent them swiftly changing course. Or the stench of Dracula’s coat. Or the pissed-off warlock. Or the even angrier, wounded vampire leaving a trail of blood in his wake. Izzy rested her hand on Lucian’s neck, making it look like she was holding a collar. She glanced at me from over her shoulder. “I feel like I’m walking down the street with a cocked and loaded shotgun. I’ve never frightened so many people before.”
“You get used to it, and it gets old fast,” I told her in a low tone.
Dracula nodded absently but maintained his silence.
Even in our alley, the nearby skyscrapers towered over us, impossibly tall. I found myself staring at the hundreds of windows within direct eyesight. It was hard not to feel like every single one of those was a threat—like standing beneath arrow slits in castle walls.
Death watched over us as we made our way to the church.
47
I stared up at Trinity Church, marveling at the exquisite detail cast in stone. It looked like a castle and was larger than I had thought. All around it, modern skyscrapers, and video screens glowed, seeming as if they were trying to beat down the quiet old pile of bricks.
The children beating down the parents, shouting loudly that their time had come and gone.
I grunted.
The foot-traffic had died down considerably, as if everyone was subconsciously avoiding the area surrounding the church. Eyeless Sister Hazel, the Speaker to the High Priestess, stood on the steps of the
church, glaring at us. Two unfamiliar Sisters in dark, hooded cloaks flanked her, attempting to match her pose and her generally unpleasant demeanor.
Until they saw Dracula cuffed and leashed. The subordinate Sisters suddenly looked anxious and excited, even though they tried to hide such an obvious reaction. Dracula was finally within their grasp—after however long they had been hunting him for their High Priestess.
It was obvious that they were terrified of messing up the victory for their boss.
Sister Hazel did not even remotely smile; her empty eye sockets seemed to narrow infinitesimally, seeing the man as another dog that needed to be put down. I could not tell if that attitude included me, but I was fairly certain I knew the answer already.
Their reactions told me much. They were just as desperate as me for this exchange to go off without any hiccups. Or Nero was right and they were excited to see both of their prizes walking towards their doors. That wasn’t going to happen.
I was confident that the Sisters had picked the location for the very reason that my army of vampires would be prohibited from providing me backup; many could not set foot within a church. On that note, I turned to Dracula, frowning. “Can you even enter a church?”
Nero answered for me. “The nullification cuffs will keep him from sizzling. Unfortunately. It’s another reason I switched them out,” he said guiltily. “I had no idea how the spines might interact on Holy Ground since I made them from his brides.”
Dracula let out a short breath of relief to hear that he wasn’t walking into a veritable oven. I was mildly surprised he hadn’t thought of it on his own and asked me about it. I would have said he simply hadn’t cared, but…he had let out that nervous sigh. I studied him suspiciously until he began to fidget.
“I was more concerned about the other forms of imminent death I was facing,” he mumbled.
I watched him for a few more seconds and then I turned away. “Let’s go.”
I strode briskly across the crosswalk and stepped onto the property. I watched Dracula, relieved to see that he didn’t spontaneously combust. The whole religion topic was now a basket of worms in my mind. If Nephilim were really Titans, why was any vampire impacted by Christian artifacts? Was it just Faith in general that harmed us? Why? None bothered me, and I had started the vampire bloodline. Shouldn’t they all be immune?
I set the question on a mental shelf, out of reach.
Speaker Hazel studied me from head-to-toe, looking as if she had succeeded in confirming how much blood I had consumed in the last hour. I could tell she still hated me for embarrassing her outside my museum. She shifted her scrupulous gaze to Lucian with noticeable concern, and then the rest of my party, blanching at Dracula’s current state. His hair was stiff with paint in places, and the smell was strong enough that I could almost see tendrils of vaporous rot risingfrom his coat. It was truly eye-watering, and that was with the gentle breeze of city air diluting it.
“He resisted arrest,” Nero explained, tugging the chains and making Dracula stumble. “I highly recommend exorcising the coat. Then Baptizing it in Holy Water for twelve Gentile cycles because there is no way that thing is kosher.”
The two attendants burped out unexpected laughs before wilting under Sister Hazel’s withering glare. Even Dracula let out a reflexive chuckle, but it cut off abruptly.
Hazel turned her nose up at Nero—and likely the coat. She studied Izzy longer than the rest of us, and she didn’t even bother hiding her blatant disdain for the ex-communicated witch.
“I missed you, Hazel,” I said, feeling protective of Izzy in Nosh’s absence. “Must be the twinkles in your eye sockets.” Izzy beamed, absently petting Lucian’s neck.
Hazel turned to me with an unreadable expression. “You came,” she finally said, by way of introduction, sounding almost disappointed. Maybe she had been dreaming about warring against me instead of having a peaceful meet. Her eyes took stock of the wound in my side and the obvious trail of blood behind me. “That looks serious. Want me to have one of the Sisters look at it?” she asked, shooting a thoughtful glance at Izzy, likely wondering why she hadn’t already healed me.
“Thank you, but no. It’s just blood. I wasn’t about to miss a second meeting over it.”
She studied me thoughtfully. Finally, she turned to Dracula and advanced a step, reaching out for the leash Nero held. “I will take the prisoner.”
Nero tugged it—and Dracula—away from her. “Not until we have the devils,” he warned, showing her his teeth. “Like we agreed.”
She regarded him in brittle silence. Then she sniffed, motioning for us to follow her into the church. “So be it. Let’s get this over with.” She turned her back on us and entered the church. Her attendant Sisters did the same, but backwards, so they could keep an eye on us.
Izzy held the door and they openly sneered at their ex-Sister. Izzy paid them no mind, motioning for us to follow, as she scanned the streets reflexively. We entered the church. Sister Hazel walked down the center aisle a safe distance before us, and her attendant Sisters continued their backwards shuffle. I ignored them, reminding myself not to pick a fight.
Upon the altar ahead, the rest of the Sisters of Mercy awaited our arrival. They let out small murmurs of muted excitement to see Dracula walking towards them in his filthy, tattered coat. They probably smelled him before they saw him. I gestured for Nero to get rid of the cursed coat; I was having a difficult time focusing through the smell in the relatively confined space. He tugged it off and threw it into the pews. Dracula shuddered in relief.
The Sisters all wore dark, hooded cloaks, matching the first two we had seen with Hazel. On that note, Hazel’s bodyguards joined the ranks of their Sisters, slipping into the long double line of shrouded faces.
None of them were holding weapons, at least; they each had their hands clasped before them.
I clenched my fists to see Benjamin standing guard over Natalie and Victoria, a safe distance apart from the Sisters. He stood closest to Natalie, holding a pistol to her head in such a way that if he squeezed the trigger, the bullet would kill both of them. He knew how fast I was.
Izzy shot the devils a panicked, anxious look.
I steadied my breathing. They were seated in wooden chairs, but they were slumped over, blinking with dazed, groggy expressions on their faces. They wore nullification cuffs, much like Dracula, but they weren’t necessary. They couldn’t even sit up straight. They had been beaten, although nothing that appeared alarming. But they were alive.
I shifted my glare to Hazel, ignoring Benjamin entirely, knowing it would rankle him. “What have you done to them?” I seethed, careful to keep my anger in check.
“They have been sedated. Nothing more. In the event that you demanded we take the cuffs off, we didn’t want to hand you two capable fighters. We want this over swifter than even you. And you have a penchant for overwhelming bloodshed, according to our associate,” she said, jerking her chin towards Benjamin.
This time, I did force myself to meet his eyes. To let him see the promise of his future doom. The usually comical werewolf showed no humor, but he did portray an almost grandiose aura. The self-declared, heir-apparent alpha of the Crescent.
Lucian’s golden eyes glowed as he stared down the unrepentant werewolf, and a bubbling, hacking snarl like a hand saw against knotted driftwood rumbled out from his barrel chest. Benjamin sneered at him, which surprised the living hell out of me.
No one could out-alpha Lucian. Literally.
Lucian slowly drew another pistol and aimed it at Lucian, thumbing back the hammer. “Silver bullets. The Sisters gave me a necklace to shrug off dominant wolves in the likely event that you brought my old boss, Stevie.” He flashed a chilling smile. “Told them he probably wouldn’t make it.” Lucian coughed, his growl livid as he bared his teeth at the incriminating comment. Benjamin laughed. “So. Sit. Or bang-bang.” I waved a hand at Lucian and he backed down. “Good boy,” Benjamin cooed, laughing raucously.
/> I had never heard of such a bracelet, but the proof was right in front of me.
“Benjamin is merely here for security purposes,” Hazel said primly. “You can address your personal grievances with him at a later time. For now, pay him no mind. We surely don’t,” she murmured dryly, not even bothering to look at him. Benjamin stiffened at the slight. “Now, hand Dracula over,” she continued. Her voice practically oozed zealous fervor.
Lucian was no longer paying Benjamin any mind, but he was sniffing at the air curiously. I shot him a questioning look and he sneezed. He didn’t paw at the floor, so he wasn’t sensing any immediate danger.
I stared at my devils and then Dracula, considering all the angles. “We came under your terms, traveling halfway across the city to face overwhelming numbers,” I said with polite authority, indicating the row of witches. “Give me the devils and you can have your prize,” I said, pointing at Dracula. “Given our lack of numbers, I will not hand him over first.”
Hazel studied me thoughtfully before finally nodding. She turned to Benjamin. “Walk them over, Benjamin. If you dare jeopardize this, you will pay dearly,” she warned. I noticed that her fingers were actually shaking. I didn’t care why. This was almost over. I could play nice.
I turned to my party. “Same rules. Don’t even look at him wrong,” I snarled.
Benjamin snorted, holstering his pistols.
“Uncuff them. They are already sedated—you said so yourself.”
Benjamin glanced at Hazel, who nodded anxiously, gesturing for him to comply.
Benjamin drew a key from his pocket and uncuffed them. He tossed the manacles to the side and then crouched down between them. He draped one of each of their arms over his shoulders—a devil on either shoulder—and they groaned sleepily as he rose to his feet, lifting them with him. They moaned at the disturbance, but they did maintain their footing. Then they began to shuffle towards us at a glacial pace.
Devil’s Blood: Shade of Devil Book 3 Page 30