Snake Eyes: A novel of the Demon Accords

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Snake Eyes: A novel of the Demon Accords Page 23

by John Conroe


  “Damn right. We walked in and freaking Grim was looking at me. In full kill everything and anyone mode,” Lydia said.

  “So? You’ve seen Grim all the time,” I said.

  “Not looking at me like that,” Lydia said.

  “He was on guard mode. I knew everything was okay, but she can’t read your mind,” Nika said, smirking.

  “Well, it’s all murky. I remember you guys really vaguely, like I was dreaming. This can’t be the first time you saw Grim respond when I’ve been woken suddenly,” I said.

  “Apparently, he’s extra sensitive about the babies,” Tanya said, smiling softly at Lydia.

  “No shit!” the little vampire said. “Freaking, twisted-ass, split personality mother f… ah dude,” she said, catching herself and looking guiltily at the baby she was holding. Beowulf, I think.

  “Yes, that’s right,” she cooed at the baby. “Daddy is a freaky freak,” she said, voice soft and mouth smiling.

  “So Declan and Omega filled us in on the whole melt-the-desert thing,” Tanya said. “And Omega reports no signs of impending doom on any of the Yellowstone sensors, so it seems possible that the elemental is satisfied.”

  “We think the Sword might have reminded it of who took away its name in the first place,” I said. “We’ll just have to see. It was far from its own neighborhood but it was still crazy powerful. I hope we don’t ever have to mess with it again.”

  “Well the media are having a field day with the melted circle. I met with Nathan and updated him on everything we know about Dragan and the elemental. He’s reporting to President Polner,” Tanya said.

  “What’s the backlash?” I asked, nodding at the wall monitor that showed news playing without the sound on. The images were all of Vegas, the battered High Roller, the broken concrete at the base of the Stratosphere, clips of blurry footage.

  “Nathan already led a multi-department press conference. He as much as said that we were brought in at the request of the Administration. They’re not making any mention of the elemental,” Lydia said.

  “There is an enormous amount of media speculation concerning the role you all played in the events. Demidova headquarters has received a barrage of requests for interviews, comments, and information. Additionally, there is a significant media presence with cameras aimed at this aircraft. Security is keeping them at a distance but numerous, inventive attempts have been made to get near the plane,” Omega.

  “How many of those would have made it to the plane without your vigilance?” I asked.

  “Two of five attempts stood a sixty-seven percent or higher chance of reaching the aircraft. Those might have had tragic results if they had attempted to actually breach the perimeter. Father’s wards while you were both in the desert were very aggressive. He has since dialed back their lethality,” Omega said.

  “You’ve spoken to headquarters?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question. Lydia gave me a mocking look, while Tanya just smiled and nodded.

  “I got a few minutes of update time with the staff. The two aunties have had things well under control, though,” my vampire said with a nod at Lydia and Nika.

  “By now you should know just how far ahead of you we always are,” Lydia said, smirking.

  “Yeah? Well, who’s the best aunt?” I challenged them.

  Tanya shot me a glare as both vampires drew breath to speak. Omega beat them both.

  “You should be aware that I am monitoring conversations within the Las Vegas vampire headquarters between Arlan Connery and Peter Kolbe. The vampire, Arlan, is advocating an attack on this plane before it can take off. Peter Kolbe is vehemently disagreeing. He is already worried about reprisals from you and possibly the Coven Elders. I have recorded all of it, but here are the important bits,” Omega said.

  The news channel disappeared and footage from a poor quality CCTV camera showed two vampires conversing in a hallway. There were other vampires behind each of them. The overall body language was tense. Audio came through the overhead speakers.

  “…You are weak. We have to strike now!” the leaner of the two vampires said, arms gesticulating for emphasis.

  “We upheld our part of the agreement with the witch and her abomination, but they both failed. And that melted ground in Utah shows that the opportunity is past. Attacking anyone, let alone Gordon and Demidova now is insane. You saw the news—they publicly beat that creature and its mother. Now there is speculation that the Young Queen has given birth. How do you think Elder Senka will respond to an attack on her great-grandchildren, not to mention the rest of the Darkkin nation? No, we need to do damage control now, find a reasonable explanation for plausible deniability,” the other vampire said.

  The first vampire, who matched the pictures I’d seen of Arlan, turned as if toward his people, then whipped back with a vicious strike, the blade in his hand appearing as if from nowhere. The other vampire, Peter Kolbe, was not caught off guard. He simply blurred backward by ten feet and his personal guards stepped between him and Arlan, weapons drawn.

  “I’m familiar with your limited repertoire of responses, Arlan. We can have this out now if you like. My chances with you are far, far greater than against Demidova and her Chosen. Watching you turn on Tommasi gave me a great deal of insight to your faithlessness, so I will warn you that I’m exceedingly well prepared for this confrontation,” Peter said.

  “The trouble with vampires today is that they act like weak little rats, hiding in the dark corners, only coming out at night when no one is around. We are the top of the food chain, yet we cower in fear of our own food supply. I will handle this,” Arlan said, turning and striding away.

  “Where are they?” I asked, dark clouds around my vision. He would hunt and kill my vampire and my babies?

  Lydia’s head snapped around to me and she leaned away. My voice must have dropped.

  “They are under Mandalay Bay. Arlan is gathering his followers and arming them,” Omega said.

  “Do we have a car?” I asked, my voice dropping further along with my mood.

  “The Tesla will meet you out front,” Omega answered. The others were watching me. Nika was fascinated, Lydia watchful and frowning, both still holding babies. Arkady was alert and Tanya looked thoughtful. Our bond offered the gist of her thoughts.

  “I will handle this,” I said.

  “Yes, you will, Christian. That vampire wants to kill our children,” Tanya said, holding my gaze.

  Lydia looked a bit surprised but just as quickly, her expression shifted to realization.

  “So you will do what needs doing, Christian… Grim,” Tanya said. I nodded and turned away, heading out of the room and toward the plane’s door.

  “Wait. Where did he go?” Lydia asked behind me. “I mean I know where he’s going, but he just suddenly wasn’t there.”

  “He’s very, very angry,” Tanya said, as if that was explanation enough.

  The pilot didn’t even look up as I passed through the lounge. The co-pilot’s eyes lifted but they drifted right past me, not seeming to notice me.

  Outside the plane, the Tesla was waiting. The local guards eyed the car but didn’t pay any attention to me as I descended the plane and climbed into the vehicle. I let my mood drop further, deeper into anger. Time to visit the vampires of Vegas.

  Chapter 34

  The ride was short. No one paid attention as I exited the Tesla and headed into Mandalay Bay. Inside, I took the stairs to the lowest public level. The casino customers ignored me, the staff looked past me, and the vampire guards at the door to the administration offices didn’t even look up.

  The lock buzzed as I reached for the handle, and the door opened easily, the guards still oblivious. Inside was a cubicle farm, humans working to manage the hotel, casinos, restaurants, and every other part of the business. At the far end of the room was another door, this one heavy, reinforced steel with a keypad and red LED lights. The lights turned green as I approached and the door popped open all on its own. Beyond
was another set of stairs, descending deep into the ground below the casino.

  Four flights down, I came to another door. Two Darkkin guarded it, one with a sword, the other a submachine gun. I broke both their necks. They’d heal… eventually.

  Through the door, which also opened on its own, was another set of offices, these manned by vampires. I ignored them and they ignored me. I heard voices in the rooms beyond the vampire office.

  A larger room awaited, this one filled with vampires engaged in the business of preparing for combat. Tactical vests, body armor, assault weapons, and other gear of war were being donned, loaded, and slotted into place. Arlan stood in the middle of the room, inspecting a rocket launcher held by another vampire.

  I shut the door—loudly. My cloak dropped and thirty-two vampires suddenly became aware of my presence. I met Arlan’s eyes—they widened in shock. Then fear flashed across his face, followed by anger. “Kill hi—” he started to say as I let Grim loose.

  The three nearest to me died almost simultaneously. The aura-lined edge of my right hand cut through the jaw and lower skull of one, passing out his right ear before taking off the top of unlucky vampire number two’s head. At almost the same time, my left hand punched through the third one’s chest, bursting his heart.

  Grim shook the body off our hand like a soggy glove, the corpse smashing into another vampire behind us. Taking us in the opposite direction, he plucked a Steyr bullpup rifle from a guard’s grasp with one hand while palming his head with the other, fingers popping through the skull before ripping the whole thing right off.

  The long barrel of the Steyr punched easily through the body armor, ceramic plate, and chest of another vampire, bursting free from his back. The suddenly dead vampire’s feet left the floor as Grim lifted it up and back, the bloody flash hider at the muzzle stabbing into the widened eye of another would-be baby killer, then out the back of his skull as Grim created a bloody Darkkin shish kabob and pinned them both to the wall.

  I was fighting vampires, albeit not particularly old ones, but they were still fast. A boot and leg came up at my head as one of the bigger ones fired off a roundhouse kick. At the same time, a female guard swung a katana at my exposed back.

  I absorbed the kick, wrapping my right arm around the leg to capture it while blocking the sword strike with an aura-lined forearm. The blade separated cleanly, the top foot of the blade continuing forward to stick into my chest, but only half an inch. Hmm, skin must be getting tougher. Doc Singh had predicted just such an event.

  Sensing weapons coming up, Grim spun us around, feet Posted, big male guard lifting off the ground and catching most of the bullets that came my way. A few punched through me, but they’re just silver and lead and don’t even sting.

  My spin continued and took the female guard and her broken sword right off her feet. I’ve long since gotten over hitting female combatants, and she was gearing up to kill my babies. Grim has never been a sexist and he grabbed the length of broken blade sticking out of our chest and throws it through the female’s face, out the back of her head, and into the thigh of another vampire.

  My Post position released and I let go of my Darkkin shield, letting him fly sideways into a group of assault-weapon-firing vampires. Sadly, my makeshift shield was torn apart by a hail of full-auto rifle fire before the guns jammed as his bloody body knocked the shooters down. A shotgun wielder got hit in passing and panicked as he tried desperately to get his gun on target. My hand caught the barrel, shoved it up under the shotgunner’s jaw, and yanked it up against his own trigger finger. The gun, a nice Siaga semi-auto, fired twice before jamming on an expended hull. The vampire’s head disappears in a spray of blood, bone, and brain.

  Grim repurposed the jammed Siaga into a handy club, hitting both fallen auto gunners in the head hard enough to crush their skulls and break the stock completely off.

  Eleven down, twenty-one to go.

  Arlan was backing toward a door at the other end, lifting the rocket launcher which he had ripped from the holder’s hands. That vampire took one look at the maw of the launcher and dove out of the way.

  Grim jumped and flipped us feet first onto the ceiling as the rocket launches. Grim identified the unit as an AT4 CS HE, a confined space version of the US military’s shoulder-launched rocket.

  The rocket passed underneath, blew through two really unlucky vampires, and impacted the far wall, punching through it before exploding on the far side. So much for the office full of administrative vampires.

  The blast and over pressure were enough to stun most of the armored guards while knocking out the lights and rocking the building. The launcher’s back blast was designed to be reduced for use in confined spaces. It used saltwater to buffer the rocket’s exhaust gases. That made little difference to the vampire standing behind Arlan, as his face was scalded into wet, soggy goo that dripped free of his skull.

  Arlan jumped backward through the door, slapping a button as he passed. A steel door slammed down into place, leaving me trapped with the remaining guards. Actually, I think it left them trapped with Grim.

  The blast has stunned most of those, although the V-squared virus tried like hell to save its hosts and they are rapidly regaining their senses. Not fast enough.

  I left the ceiling, throwing the remains of the Siaga hard enough to spear it through one guard’s armor. Monomolecular edges again line my arms and I spun into the closest guards. A heavy knife cut my leg while a short Assegai-type spear sliced across my back before my aural edges cut it in half. No matter. I heal almost instantly and pain is completely absent when Grim is in charge. Not so much the guards. Hard to heal having your body chopped in two. Six of them were split into pieces like firewood.

  Covered in blood, I burst through the cluster of vampires and grabbed one that was trying to run away. Grim has seen, heard, and experienced everything that I have. I suspect he must have been curious about the Predator movies because he ripped the vampire’s spine free of its torso in one smooth pull.

  Another guard came at me, roaring in terror and anger, fangs extended. Grim brushed aside the wide-open arms, grabbed him by the head, and slammed his fangs through another vampire’s face. The edge of our hand decapitated the fanger and got stuck partway into the bitten vamp’s skull.

  A sharp yank threw the body against the steel door while my left hand captured the extended arm and submachine gun of yet one more guard, spinning the gunner around while the little HK MP-7 spit silver rounds into remaining vampires. I clubbed the gunner to death with the empty gun, then used it to kill five more vampires the same way before the gun fell apart.

  There was one guard left. She dropped to her knees, throwing her gun away. I twisted her head almost all the way around, not sure if she was old enough to heal from that one. Maybe.

  The door was thick and completely enclosed by the reinforced tracks it slid through. A spike of aura projected from my right fist smashed right through it. I did it again, then again, and finally once more, tearing fist-sized holes through the two-inch steel. Four equidistant holes, forming the corners of the big rectangle I sliced out with mono-molecular edges. Two feet by two feet.

  The freed square was a nice shield, one that shed the rifle bullets that peppered the door. Grim used a form of Cling to hold the shield against the palm of one hand. The other hand pulled a twist of steel free from the improvised shield. Tossing the slug of metal up, Grim pushed the steel square sideways, let go of it, clapped both hands, and then reacquired the shield, all in one continuous motion.

  The clap forced aural fields against the little metal piece with explosive force. It’s not perfect—not as good as, say, a quarter would be, but it worked. The metal turned to liquid plasma, jetting into the room beyond and silencing at least one gun.

  Grim wasn’t satisfied. He eyed a body slumped on the floor. Squatting down with the square still in place, he rummaged through the body’s pockets. Two quarters and a nickel.

  The coins flew up, the met
al square opened, and with one clap, Grim got three explosively formed projectiles. Only one gun was left firing and it was a sporadic semi-auto fire. Stepping back, Grim made a Frisbee throw and the metal square became the final projectile, crushing the last shooter into the wall.

  Diving through the opening, we rolled up to our feet and noticed the burned and blasted bodies of the shooters. Arlan was not there.

  Grim picked up the square shield of door steel and moved forward to the next doorway.

  About to step through the flimsy door, he stopped dead, frozen with senses straining.

  I focused on my internal monster, trying to understand what he had sensed. Then I got it.

  We smelled depleted uranium. Of course.

  Chapter 35

 

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