The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  “Get to the point, Edward,” he snapped.

  “I was, sir,” Edward said patiently. “At any rate, the two of us had just retired for the evening when I was awoken by an unfamiliar presence inside the house. It was dark, but I cast a flame in the hearth to see by, and discovered a demon standing in the main room. Your father was still back here in the sleeping room, Miss, so I spelled the walls and door as best I could and came out to see what the demon wanted.”

  “And you didn’t think that spelling yourself might be wise, under the circumstances?” Nigellus asked sourly.

  “Yes, sir,” Edward called back, still in that patient tone. “I did, in fact, spell myself as well. Though you saw how effective that ended up being.”

  I took a deep breath, trying very hard not to remember exactly how ineffective it had been. “The demon broke through your protection somehow?”

  Edward emerged, fully clothed and looking much more himself. “He did indeed. I was able to deflect the first attack to a degree, but after that... well, I daresay there’s no need to delve into the details. Suffice to say, I’m immensely relieved to hear that Mr. Bright suffered no physical injuries after I was... incapacitated.”

  That swimming feeling in my head was back—made up of combined relief and shock. “You saved him,” I said, fighting vertigo as I pushed away from the wall that had been holding me up so I could cross the room and wrap my arms around the old man. “You saved my father.”

  Edward had that bony, delicate feeling common to the elderly, but he accepted the hug with good grace and patted me gently on the back a few times.

  “There, there, Miss. I won’t say ‘no harm done,’ since seeing something like that was the last thing your poor father needed,” he soothed. “But hopefully he’ll perk up a bit when he sees that the results were only temporary.”

  I pulled back and wiped my eyes. “You haven’t said which demon it was who attacked you, though. Did you recognize him?”

  Edward tugged his shirt, straightening it with fussy movements. “Oh, indeed, Miss. Forgive me—I assumed it was obvious. The demon that attacked me was Myrial.”

  TWELVE

  THE REVELATION WASN’T all that much of a surprise, but I still felt burning anger churn in my stomach. I turned to Nigellus, leveling a glare at him. The demon looked drained—as well he might after somehow putting a human being back together from a pile of dismembered meat and gore.

  “What do you plan on doing about this?” I asked, biting the words off. “Because I don’t care how flexible the laws of Hell may be—this cannot be acceptable.”

  It was Edward who answered. “It’s a bit more complicated than it would have been if Myrial had injured your father—heaven forbid. You see, I’m not technically a denizen of Hell.”

  I looked between them, momentarily struck dumb.

  “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” I managed eventually, aiming the words mostly at Nigellus.

  “More complicated, perhaps,” Nigellus said, “but you are right in one regard—it’s definitely not acceptable. A demon-bound individual has some protections, at least.”

  Sure... protections from the demons he’s not bound to, maybe, I couldn’t help thinking.

  “Perhaps we should go and collect your father now, Zorah,” Edward suggested. “There’s certainly an argument to be made that he was the object of the attack. I was merely in the way. Besides, I don’t like to think of him sitting alone, stewing over what happened.”

  With difficulty, I dragged my rampant emotions under control and focused on Edward.

  “Are you sure you’re well enough?” I couldn’t help asking, even though he seemed fine now to all appearances.

  The butler raised a bushy eyebrow. “Of course, Miss. Dying loses its novelty value after the first dozen times or so.” He leveled a pointed look at Nigellus. “And I’m not the one who just expended massive amounts of life-force to knit these old bones back together for the umpteenth time.”

  My eyes slid to Nigellus as well, taking in the faint translucence of his skin in the firelight. “Okay,” I said. “Sharalynn and I took Dad to her hut. She and her boyfriend are with him now—and possibly one or more of the village elders if they’ve arrived yet.”

  Edward gave me a wan smile and waved me toward the door. “Lead the way, Miss.”

  The curious crowd was still gathered outside, but they shied away from Nigellus’ death glare like a herd of startled deer, opening a path for us. I might have been tempted to try and reassure them that everything was all right, but for one thing, I wasn’t sure if that was the case, and for another, it would be quite a bit easier to explain what had happened to whichever of the elders were waiting at Sharalynn’s hut, rather than explaining it to an excited mob. Let them explain it to everyone else.

  The distance between the two huts seemed a lot shorter when I wasn’t about to keel over in a dead faint, or toss my cookies in a messy splatter on the packed-dirt road. I knocked on the closed door, calling out to let Sharalynn know it was me. Moments later, I heard a latch slide free. The door swung open, revealing Sharalynn. Her eyes ran over me and settled on Edward with a look of relief.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she said. “Come in. Sorry—I’m afraid it’s getting a bit crowded inside.”

  She gave Nigellus a curious look as he swept past, no doubt taking in his less-than-put-together appearance. It lent him a feral air, and I could totally understand any misgivings she might have about inviting a demon who looked like he wanted to tear someone apart into her home. Inside, Fatima and Li Wei were in the main room along with Finn and my dad, who was still seated on a chair—still looking completely lost.

  Edward wasted no time in crossing to him, and I joined him. My father stared right through us, his face pale and his lips an ashy gray.

  “Dad,” I urged, “look who’s here.”

  “Darryl, old chap,” Edward said, leaning down. “I’m sorry you had to see that, but I’m all right now.”

  Dad blinked, his brows drawing together in confusion. I could see the moment his eyes focused, taking in the man in front of him. He blinked several more times in rapid succession, his lips parting.

  “How?” he asked. “That’s not...”

  “Possible?” Edward finished. “I assure you—it is when you’re demon-bound. Though to be fair, I don’t really recommend it as a matter of course. Now, tell me truthfully... you weren’t hurt at all, were you? I’m afraid I lost track of things rather abruptly, after—” He cut himself off. “Well... after.”

  Dad’s jaw worked, his mouth opening and closing a couple of times before he said. “You’re really here? Could be a dream...?”

  “It’s no dream,” Edward assured him, surprising me by reaching out and pinching my dad’s upper arm through the loose linen shirt he was wearing.

  Dad flinched, and appeared to come back to himself more fully, his expression clearing. I held my breath as his gaze settled on Edward again, seeming to drink him in.

  “You’re really all right?” he asked slowly. “I thought I saw...was any of that real?”

  Edward shared a brief, troubled look with Nigellus before returning his attention to my father. I kept to the side, aware that Edward had apparently been able to make more progress with my father’s recovery in a few days than I’d managed in a month-plus. The realization stung, but I told myself firmly that it didn’t matter. It only mattered that he was getting better.

  The old butler sighed. “As much as I’d love to be able to tell you it was merely a vivid nightmare caused by too much cheese before bedtime, I’m afraid we were, in fact, attacked. Now, don’t make me keep asking if you’re all right. Are you?”

  Dad nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Edward’s face. “I’m... all right. Just feel a bit shaky.”

  “Understandable,” Edward said, relief loosening his stooped shoulders. “In fact, I’m right there with you, old chap.”

  “Did you see your attacker, Mr. Bright?” N
igellus asked sharply.

  Anger darkened my father’s gaze. “William Hawkins,” he snarled.

  I cleared my throat. “That’s the name Myrial used when he married my grandmother on Earth,” I explained.

  Nigellus gave a single, tight nod. “With luck, that identification should suffice for the council, given that Edward is also able to identify the attacker as Myrial.”

  Li Wei had been watching the exchange closely, but upon hearing Nigellus’ words, he spoke. “Just to be clear, a demon physically attacked someone in the village?” he asked. “I’m not misunderstanding that part?”

  “So it would appear,” Nigellus said brusquely. “I will take the complaint to the Council and see what is to be done. In the meantime, do not leave Mr. Bright unattended. Edward, if anything appears suspicious—”

  “I’ll call for you right away, sir,” Edward said. “Don’t worry, we’re fine here.”

  Part of me wanted to cling to my father’s side, but a larger part understood that I was surplus to requirements. The connections my father had forged with Li Wei, Sharalynn, and Edward would be more helpful to him than our strained and tattered familial bond.

  I squared up to Nigellus. “I’m coming with you.”

  Sharalynn cleared her throat delicately. “I don’t suppose you’d like to borrow a pair of sandals first, hon?”

  I glanced down at my scraped and dusty feet as though I’d somehow forgotten they were attached to my legs. “Uh... thanks. Sandals would be good, yeah.”

  Maybe I should have had misgivings about showing up in front of the demons’ ruling council wearing shorts, borrowed footwear, and a faded concert tee with no bra. But it was fairly obvious that they already didn’t give a shit about me, or about the people I cared most about. Begging a set of Hell-appropriate titheling clothes from someone before I went to speak with them seemed unlikely to change their opinion of me to any great degree.

  Nigellus raked his eyes over me, but he must have come to the same conclusion, because he gave a tight nod. His eyes moved to encompass Edward and my father as I accepted a pair of sandals and slipped them on.

  “It is likely the two of you will be called to testify,” said the demon, “but not right away. I will arrange for additional guards to watch over you as soon as possible.”

  “They can stay here with me in the meantime,” Sharalynn said without hesitation. “Safety in numbers, and all that.”

  “I will stay as well,” Li Wei added. “One would hope that any attacker might think twice before assaulting a village elder.”

  My heart warmed at the show of support. “Thank you,” I said. “All of you. It means a lot to me... really.”

  “Come,” Nigellus said, and took me by the arm.

  We disappeared, reappearing a heartbeat later in an unfamiliar area that definitely wasn’t part of the titheling village. I tugged my arm away with a bit more sharpness than necessary, easily able to foresee a time when I’d be thoroughly fed up when it came to being teleported from place to place by demons.

  I eyed my companion. “So, I take it you’re not planning on hulking out before we meet the great and the good of demon society?” I asked. “You know, with the wings and the...” I made a motion with my fingers to indicate horns sprouting.

  With the air of someone who had hopelessly misplaced whatever atrophied sense of humor he’d originally possessed, Nigellus looked pointedly at my classy Wal-Mart chic attire.

  “Why? Concerned about appearances, are you?” he retorted in a tone dry enough to parch rocks.

  I shrugged. “Hey, I’m just asking.” As I continued to study the demon, I couldn’t help noticing that he still had the same look of pastiness he’d sported when I’d first walked in on him after he’d resurrected Edward. “How drained are you right now, anyway? Edward made it sound like you just expended a fuck-ton of animus to save him. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “Don’t concern yourself,” he said in a tone that did not encourage further inquiries.

  Not for the first time, I wondered what the back-story was between him and Edward. As I understood it, the point of a demon-bond was to act as a power source for the demon that held the bond.

  Not only had Nigellus failed to harvest Edward’s soul for extra power when things started going badly in the war with the Fae; he’d apparently drained his own power to bring the aging butler back from death on not just one occasion, but dozens. It bugged me immensely that the demon could be such a backstabbing son of a bitch in some regards, and so apparently selfless in others.

  Or maybe I was still thinking too much like a human. For all I knew, Nigellus had a totally selfish reason for his actions with Edward, and I just wasn’t devious enough to see it.

  “Sure,” I said lightly. “Whatever you say. I’ll file it away with all the other important questions I’m not concerning myself with, shall I?”

  “A wise plan,” Nigellus agreed flatly.

  For the moment, I stopped worrying about the stick up Nigellus’ ass in favor of trying to orient myself to my new surroundings. We were in a canyon formed from layered sandstone—the silvery light from the three moons picking out different colored streaks stacked up nearly as far as the eye could see. Here and there, cave mouths were visible as darker patches against the rock.

  “Is this where all the demons live, then?” I asked.

  “Not precisely,” he replied. “There are many such geological formations in Hell. Some do, in fact, act as domiciles, but this one is devoted mostly to administrative tasks. Think of it as the equivalent of the tithelings’ meeting hall, only with considerably more perfidy taking place inside.”

  “What? Demons double-dealing each other?” I muttered. “I’m shocked.”

  His dark eyes cut to me in the pale moonlight. But all he said was, “Come.”

  I followed him toward one of the larger cave entrances. “Won’t we need to wait until morning to talk to the Council? It’s the middle of the night.”

  “Demons don’t sleep,” he said shortly. “Someone will be available.”

  I shook my head in amazement at this new revelation and followed him, wondering how demons kept from going completely around the bend. Not only were they fricking immortal; they couldn’t even pass the time by napping for a decade or two here and there. Then again, maybe they were all a bit crazy. Maybe that was part of the problem.

  As we entered the cave, I heard the click of Nigellus’ fingers snapping together. Torches along the wall flared into life, illuminating our surroundings. The place was not, as I had assumed, a natural cave. Or... perhaps it had been a natural cave originally? It was hard to tell. Certainly, the walls and floor had been smoothed and carved with tools, along with a ton of patience. It reminded me of an archaeological site from one of the Indiana Jones movies—the place with the huge columns and facades carved out of a rocky canyon.

  Petra, in Jordan. That was the name of it.

  I looked up, the height of the cavern above me making me dizzy.

  “Okay,” I said faintly. “Wow. Yeah. That’s a seriously big cave to carve out of solid stone.”

  “When one has an eternity to pass, one comes to appreciate many things, including stonemasonry,” Nigellus said.

  He led me deeper into the structure, through hallways carved with writhing beasts and winged, battling figures. I tried not to be overwhelmed by my surroundings, focusing instead on the reason I was here in the first place. My father. Myrial. Edward’s body lying strewn in pieces on the ground.

  I squared my shoulders and lifted my chin.

  “Who’s there?” called a voice from the chamber ahead, muffled by the stone still separating us.

  “It’s Nigellus,” my companion called back. “With a visitor.”

  We entered to find a lithe demonic figure seated on a stool behind a massive stone desk carved from the same stone as the walls and floor. He appeared male, but was far smaller than the guards I’d come to know during my previous stay. In ma
ny ways, the figure hunched at the desk in front of us reminded me of the gargoyles found on some church rooftops.

  I tried to think back to my quick and dirty lesson on demon society. “Are you an imp?” I blurted.

  The figure’s eyebrows rose. “It’s... not obvious?”

  Nigellus sighed. “Baalazar, may I present Zorah Bright. Zorah, Baalazar.”

  Baalazar’s expression closed off. “Ah. The cambion’s daughter.” His flinty eyes moved to Nigellus. “We did discuss this at length already, Nigellus.”

  Nigellus waved the words away carelessly. “We are here regarding a unrelated matter. There has been an unprovoked attack in the titheling village. A mortal that is bound to me was killed. I wish to make a formal complaint to the Council, and I require a pair of guards to ensure the victims’ safety, going forward.”

  The imp’s expression remained unreadable, but he put aside the scroll he’d been perusing and gave us his full attention. “I gather from your pallor that the damage to the human was undone, and so I assume the victim was your favored servant. Tell me, Nigellus... why was dear old Edward staying in the titheling village in the first place?”

  “To protect my father,” I said before Nigellus could answer. “From Myrial.”

  Baalazar raised a brow. “You feared reprisal against your kin for your attack on Myrial at the gate to Earth?”

  I gritted my teeth. “I feared that Myrial would try to do what she’d been trying to do for weeks—bind my father’s soul against his will. Especially since I wasn’t around to protect him myself, after Myrial attacked me at the gate. She tried to draw away my animus and weaken me, so I fled to Earth after tossing a handful of salt in her face. In self-defense.”

  The imp’s stone-gray eyes bored into me. “That is a considerably different accounting of events than Myrial gives.”

  I scowled. “Yeah? Well, we’re talking about the same demon who took a dump all over the treaty with the Fae. I don’t get the impression honor is a really big thing for her.”