by Lissa Kasey
A handful of the investigators, witches Gabe thought, had to leave to throw up. They rushed off, looking a bit green and did not return. Seiran paid them no attention, instead documenting minute details with the medical examiner. None of the vampires would be cut up or autopsied as was the standard for a murder. Max had refused on behalf of all the vampires citing the monstrosities already suffered to them.
Gabe had received a voicemail from Max indicating he was to ensure the humans followed the rules, whether they be ordinary mortals, or witch ones. He’d also left off with, “I expect you to put them back in the ground as soon as possible. The right way this time.”
What had that meant? Wouldn’t Seiran be the better one to ease the vampires to the next life? Free them? It was another piece in the puzzle of Gabe’s memory. He hadn’t asked Seiran about it.
Gabe looked out over the sea of bodies, finding it a weird murmur of disquiet. Not like a graveyard, which he’d always found peaceful. He even remembered a handful of battlefields, long fallen to the silence of death, and blood-strewn hillsides, all feeling a little less empty than this. Those places had an energy, whether it had been the rages of a former battle still echoing or the howls of the dead screaming for justice. This was hollow.
His gaze fell on Seiran who kept returning to the two golem vampires. Something about them made him frown, so Gabe frowned too, trying to read Seiran’s emotions without digging too deep. He could tell that Seiran felt something—magically speaking—that was different about them, but couldn’t place it. It frustrated him. And he kept checking to see if he missed something. Gabe looked over them again too. Wondering if he could discover the missing piece.
The two vampires attributed to the golem, were badly mutilated. Cut up, burned, parts missing. According to the information they’d gotten from the golem last night, the torture had been extensive. The others, not as much. Some damage here and there. But not like these, which were almost physically unrecognizable as people, or vampires if they weren’t considered people. Would a vampire survive that amount of damage? The simple answer was yes, but also maybe? It depended on the age and strength of a vampire.
Gabe couldn’t tell who sired them. And that wasn’t unusual. It simply meant that whomever they belonged to, wasn’t some large power that Gabe had met before. Even with his broken memory he suspected he would know the signature of most of the powerful left in the world. Like he’d met or bargained with them in his life, and maybe he had.
Underneath his senses, that odd ripple of aching emptiness trickled. He had the strange notion that he could reach out a hand and pull them to their feet, what was left of their feet, and make them dance. Not their souls, as they weren’t there at all, the vague glow of them still entwined in the golem. But the bodies.
“They feel like the newly dead still,” Gabe thought out loud, but only so Seiran could hear.
“What does that mean?” Seiran asked.
“When a body is first put in the ground, or even still in the morgue these days as it takes so long to bury people in this century, they have that weird sensation of emptiness. Like the soul has just left and it’s a vessel ready to be occupied by something else. Lots of legends of demons taking over a corpse that was left aboveground too long.” He glanced around as though trying to catch a glimpse of that darkness rising.
Seiran’s expression was assessing. “Was someone trying to summon a demon?”
Gabe didn’t know. It was simply a sensation he’d felt before. “I wish I had better answers for you.”
“Maybe they failed and were stuck with a golem? But the golem has souls in it and demons need a body without a soul?”
“Met a lot of demons?” Gabe wondered.
“One.” Seiran put his hand over his heart as it began to race with merely the suggestion of the demon. Gabe heard the sped-up pace even though he was three feet away.
“I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to frighten you.”
Seiran wrapped his arms around himself, closing his eyes for a moment, and counting. Breathing slowly in and out. Calming himself, Gabe realized.
“First time I ever thought for sure, if I died, I would not be coming back. Worried about leaving my kids behind.”
“I’m sorry,” Gabe said again. He had scattered memories popping up that seemed to be labeled demon. Though the lack of emotion attached to it, seemed to mean it hadn’t scared him, or he hadn’t been closely involved?
“Summoners are terrifying things,” Seiran said after a moment.
“They can be, without training. Maybe this golem was the first?” Gabe whispered, keeping his voice low as he mostly wanted his thoughts and attention directed at Seiran. He wasn’t even sure he should be there, since the space had been restricted to police and MI witches. The handful of vampires remaining were medical personnel, and a few of the masters these missing belonged to. Gabe had greeted them briefly and left them to their somber identification. He also hoped to get Seiran’s mind off the past.
“Could that be why it’s so messy?” Seiran asked, looking from the golem to the bodies.
“Maybe,” Gabe said.
“Necromancy? Or some messed up spell?” Seiran looked up, his expression thoughtful. “When I found the golem, it was tied to a complicated ward that drew energy from me. I thought the ward a bit haphazard at first, though artful. I think the tie to the golem was actually the haphazard part.”
The missing student, who was from a witch family, hadn’t ever tested. His family claimed he had no magic. But that was often the way with male witches. Gabe thought that interesting since there were two male Pillars of magic right now. But how would they test for death magic? Ask the witch to raise a corpse? That would probably be easiest. And likely rewarded with a public execution.
“Necromancy,” Gabe said instantly. The residual energy of death magic echoed through the room. Not a spell. Spells were defined things with sharp edges and firm boundaries. Unless the caster was a total screwup which usually got themselves killed. But no, this had a taste of something very familiar. The caress of death rather than the anvil of time. “Newly awakened perhaps?” His gaze fell on the golem. “The first sort of an accident, but got better over time?”
“But why the torture?”
That was the part that didn’t add up. A necromancer wouldn’t need the vampires hurt to raise them, or even draw the souls out. A strong necromancer could do insane things to a vampire. Gabe had vivid, but disjointed memories, of some very epic battles against necromancers. Not always on opposite sides, but enough that the vampires seemed to see those born with death magic as enemies. Kill or be killed had been the motto for certain types of magic wielders over the years. Two types being the most dangerous to vampires. Necromancers and summoners. One dealt with death, the other with life. Polar opposites, and equally dangerous.
“What about the history of the family? Records of unusual magic?” Gabe asked.
“They don’t write that stuff down,” Seiran said. “Most of those families spends gads of money rewriting history to hide just this sort of thing.”
“But no relatives cast out, or suspicious? Anything?”
Seiran pulled up his phone and scrolled through files. It was a lot of information, and Gabe didn’t try to read over his shoulder. The files were set up with a snapshot overview on the first page, then long detailed supplemental documents attached. Seiran cruised through them like he’d read them a thousand times, and probably had. “It’s a big family. Lots of offshoots too.” He frowned. “Even Page is technically part of the family. Though it seems like his branch of it has been cut off from the main line for a while.” His frown turned to pinched lips. “Apparently for one of his grandparents marrying someone of the wrong color.”
Gabe sighed, feeling bad for the kid. “Page has power. I could sense that from our short meeting.”
“He’s never tested, but I did sense something in him. When I was interviewing for an assistant, after going through about two dozen witches
who treated me like I was their assistant, I picked him even though he had no experience. He has to meet all the Dominion class requirements now that he works for me. Defense training, magic 101, de-escalation; he does a lot more than answer the phone and file. He has helped with a ton of my research. Knows the archives better than me.”
“He’s worked for you for a while?”
“Two years,” Seiran said. “Long enough for me to treat him like family. He’s picked up the kids from school before. Even had Solstice with us last year. As far as I know, it’s only him and his mom.”
“Would he know anything about this relative?”
“I think they are like third cousins or something. I’ll send him a message. I think the stuff we saw from the golem yesterday got to him.” Seiran sighed. “I really hope he doesn’t quit.”
“I think it got to everyone,” Gabe said.
“Even you?”
“Even me. Never been a fan of rape and torture. Not even in the days of pillaging and raiding. War crimes were always war crimes, even if they weren’t recognized that way by history. Many drown in the bloodlust. I didn’t. At least not after I became a vampire. Too easy to let the monster out and destroy everything.”
Seiran’s gaze was assessing. Like he wasn’t sure to believe it or not.
“Not all vampires are brutal assholes,” Gabe said. Though he had to admit, he’d met a fair share. It sort of came with the whole having to survive on blood thing. Blood made everything seem more savage.
“That makes it sound like you were a bloodthirsty asshole when you were alive.”
Gabe’s memories of that time were vivid, but skewed, broken up by facts and things he now knew were reported wrong in history. He had been a bloodthirsty asshole, though at the time he hadn’t thought so. He’d been on a quest for knowledge and world domination, proving to everyone that he could. Until he met his end. “I was.”
“Were you someone famous?” Seiran wondered.
“Aren’t we all in history?”
Seiran narrowed his eyes and Gabe held up his hands in defeat. “We don’t share our names from before the change. It’s like deadnaming a transperson. That person is gone. We are reborn.”
“You weren’t Gavriil?”
“That is my reborn name. It’s evolved to Gabriel over the centuries.”
“Titus… Max had another name too?”
Gabe nodded, seeing for a moment all the way back to those final days of mortal life. His lover had already been taken from him for the first time. He hadn’t realized he’d get another chance after crossing over, but it hadn’t been a choice he’d made either way. “After we are changed it can actually take a few years to remember our mortal lives. Most sires don’t encourage the memory. Sometimes it triggers the revenant to want to go back and feed on those we loved in life.”
“Twisted,” Seiran said.
“Yes.”
“Sam didn’t forget.”
“Sam is a witch. He had also been bonded to two vampires prior to his change.”
“Don’t call him that to his face. He hates it.”
“He has a lover who is a witch,” Gabe pointed out.
“Con hates the Dominion. They’d kill him if they could. It was you who kept them from taking him when they put down his sister.”
“Me?” Gabe tried to recall that and came up blank. He remembered the tall lanky man who kept his distance from the vampires when Gabe had first reawakened, but nothing from the past. “Guess that memory isn’t back.”
“Maybe you have to touch him? Meet him up close?”
“Maybe,” Gabe agreed.
Seiran’s phone buzzed back from Page. He frowned at it. It was a response to his question about how well Page knew his cousin. The reply only said, I’m sorry.
Apologize for knowing him? Or not knowing him? It seemed weird.
Seiran made his way to a private corner away from the group and dialed his phone. Gabe could hear it just fine, both sides of the conversation, but didn’t think any of the other vampires, including Sam, were close enough to catch it. Though in a space this quiet, sound echoed a little. Gabe put his back to Seiran, hoping to shield some of the sound.
“Page,” Seiran said.
“I’m sorry,” Page said rather than a greeting. He actually sounded like he was crying. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know this is bad,” Seiran started slowly, seeming to catch something in the young man’s tone, “A terrible thing.”
“I didn’t know…” Page said, sucking in air and voice trembling. “I wouldn’t have…”
Seiran paused, and Gabe tensed as he caught a nuance in the tone. Guilt? Had Page been part of this?
“Page, I’d like to talk to you,” Seiran said quietly. He turned away from everyone, pacing further from the group. Gabe followed, keeping a slow pace that made it look like they were talking rather than trying to cover up a conversation. Fuck. What did Page do?
Page was sobbing now, babbling apologies, sniffling and muffled. Gabe listened intently. “I didn’t know…”
“Did Steve make you do this?” Seiran asked quietly, catching on fast, though he said Page had been working for him for two years. He probably knew his assistant fairly well.
“I wouldn’t have, if I had known what they were doing… even to… free them. I thought it was only a few. Didn’t know about…”
“Page,” Seiran said gently, more like he was speaking to one of his children rather than his young assistant. “We’ll fix this. Are you at home? Can I meet with you? You can tell me how this happened?”
“I’m not evil,” Page gasped, his sobbing garbling what he said. Sam was awake now, staring in their direction. Gabe worried that meant he’d go after the kid. How did he hear when he was halfway across the room and Seiran was whispering? Maybe being a witch made his hearing more sensitive even than a regular vampire?
“I don’t think you are,” Seiran said. “Can you tell me what happened?”
“They were being hurt,” Page whispered, sucking in large gulps of air and Gabe could hear him struggle to keep from totally falling apart. “Suffering.”
“And you thought putting them in the golem would free them?” Seiran asked. Was Page a necromancer? The transfer of souls was usually a bit more complicated than that. But he was very young. Gabe wondered if he had had any training at all.
“Less pain,” Page said. “He promised to stop hurting them.”
Seiran nodded like Page could see it. “You didn’t know what he would do with the golem.”
“He said he just wanted it to help with chores and stuff. I thought it would be better than torture.”
“And what about the rest?” Seiran prodded gently. Sam was headed their way now, though no one else was.
“I didn’t know.”
“Did you make more golems?” Seiran asked quietly.
“No. I promise. I’m not even sure how I made Forest. It was a mess. I…” Page cut off, sucking in air like he was hyperventilating.
“I need you to breathe for me, Page. Breathe and count with me. I’m going to lead, okay? And once you’re calm, I need you to tell me where you are.”
“They’ll kill me. The Dominion. I don’t want to burn. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone.”
“I know that, honey,” Seiran soothed, his tone soft. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you. Breathe with me.” Seiran mimicked taking long, deep breaths, talking Page through a panic attack. The kid had a right to be afraid. Accident or not, one time or not, the Dominion would kill him. It was what they did to witches who had power they didn’t think they could control. That was what Seiran had been trying to tell Gabe. And what Gabe’s broken memories were reminding him of in small chunks. Seiran had nearly been locked away in a concrete room to try to keep him from realizing his power. Coerced to create children that the Dominion could possibly use. Gabe had been a pawn in that game too.
Sam stood nearby, arms folded across his chest, facing away from Sei
ran, looking out to the sea of bodies, expression blank. Gone was the snark, and with it the last bits that looked human. Everything he presented was a cold and emotionless killer. Would Sam kill Page first? Was that why Max had sent him?
Chapter 21
Seiran did his best to calm Page, even while trying not to panic himself. Page, his assistant, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, had created the golem. The fear that filled him couldn’t be expressed without alerting everyone. And Sam stood there, looking ready to kill.
Yet the whole thing felt familiar. Not unlike Kaine’s story about the bunnies. Freeing them from mortal pain. Was that what Page had done?
He said he hadn’t created more golems. Should Seiran believe him? And what did all this mean? The deaths? The torture? Steve trying to create a golem but unable? Why so many dead vampires? And how? One barely legal witch kid shouldn’t have been able to do something this massive. Not without help. That thought burned in Seiran’s gut.
Not without help.
Sure, he had his buddies mess with the golem, but their signature wasn’t anywhere over the massive grave of bodies. Not fibers or even a residue of their presence. The mounting evidence Seiran had collected, magic bits and fibers, would hopefully help them trace the murders back. Would it all go to one kid? Seiran didn’t think so. His family perhaps? A large coven of several families maybe, with this sort of death toll. No one person killed this many without getting caught. But a coven? Easy enough.
This kid had somehow convinced Page to create a golem for him. By torturing vampires until Page could no longer stand watching the pain? How could he have held three vampires hostage, and kept them bound well enough to torture them? There wasn’t a power or spell that could bind the revenant of a vampire once it had broken free. It was why they were forced to ground or were outright killed to keep them from raging. Beheading was thought to be the only thing that worked on a vampire gone rogue if they couldn’t be put back in the ground.