Flames to Free (Dred Dixon Chronicles Book 1)

by N. A. Grotepas

  A number of the vamps saw this and turned and ran, leaving their allies behind. The demons continued to fight. I took a moment and tried throwing another water spell at them. But it fizzled and ice filled my veins as I attempted to draw on power that had been utterly sapped.

  I grimaced. “Worth a shot.” We began to back away. Vivian had let go of Hank and huddled behind us both.

  As we watched, walking backwards away from the scene, the energy that Dorothy had been summoning split into what appeared to be two spears of light—maybe even resembling that classic image of Zeus holding a lightning bolt like a spear.

  Dorothy flicked her conjured staff and the spears of light bolted toward the demons.

  The void demon nearest me spread its arms wide like it was forming a large shield of void magic to destroy the spear zipping toward its chest.

  But, whatever Dorothy used didn’t respond to their void magic. It bypassed the demon’s shield and plunged into its chest.

  The demon nearest me clutched at the spear, stumbling backwards, its hands gripping at the spear of light, trying futilely to pull the spear out.

  Its hoofed feet found the curb at the edge of the street and it fell onto its back. It looked at me, its eyes turning into bright light, vapor rising from them as the magic consumed it from the inside. I watched in horror and awe as the primeval magicks collided, warring with each other. It was something ancient like the light overcoming darkness as creation overpowered the void in space, in time, in something no human could ever comprehend.

  The demon’s body unraveled, itself now a victim of its own powers as the spear of primitive light did what it had done to our magic before. It was bested by something older than itself, something that had destroyed it before the dawn of time.

  I looked at Dorothy, still atop the train car, her staff now gone, looking once more like the stylish, sweet older woman who worked the front desk at the fortress.

  Truthfully, I’d never see her that way again.

  35

  “The clean up crew found CCTV footage of the man you claimed to have seen on the roof, Dred,” Fua said to me the next day around lunch. The day had had a slow start, like it often did after a skirmish such as the void demon ruckus.

  “And?” I asked, sitting down across from him. Hank was already in the office, standing near the window, staring out it pensively, his aviators on, his jacket thrown open and his hands in his jeans pockets. I continued. “Is he in one of our databases? Do we recognize him?”

  “No. We have nothing on him.” Fua sat back and put his feet up on his desk. “What’s the consensus? Were they after you or the runaway?”

  “I don’t know. I’m thinking Vivian,” I said. “Otherwise why come after us? Why unleash such a massive mob in the middle of the city?”

  “The clean up crew had to misdirect a lot of people, Dred. We didn’t even notice how many eyes were watching that battle.”

  Hank didn’t turn as Fua addressed me.

  I couldn’t read his back, but there was something in the angle of his shoulders. He was disturbed, I thought. We were still too new with each other for me to tell for sure, but it would make sense. So far the stuff we’d worked had been easy to divorce ourselves from emotionally.

  Vivian added a new element. I remembered how she looked, so scared, clinging to him. That experience, seeing vampires for the first time, being pawed at by them, being their target, that could inflict trauma even on an iron-forged soldier. Vivian was a kid.

  Maybe she’d gotten to him. I knew nothing about the upbringing Hank had experienced—who he’d left behind in New York, if he had siblings, or if his parents were still alive. The kid could have stirred up some memory or made him feel protective. Her neediness in those moments the night before, that could make a person feel like they had to step up and be a hero.

  “Anything else the clean up crew discovered that we missed?” I asked, looking at the captain.

  “Some of the bodies were missing.” Fua’s voice was dark. “And some were mangled beyond anything we’d done to them.”

  “Uh oh,” I said. Missing bodies meant necromancy. “That’s going to be a problem.”

  “I’ve got Bianca and Cristian on it.”

  “Fair. I need to be figuring out what they’d want with Vivian.”

  “What don’t we know about Vivian?” Hank asked, turning. He took a couple steps toward me. “Dred, is she the key to this?”

  It was a weird question, and to be honest I hadn’t even thought about it. Now I’d think about it, but first I needed to stall for time. “Yes. We just happened to take the kid from the supernatural town in the mountains who happens to be the key to all the issues cropping up. What luck!”

  Hank glowered at me. “Real funny.”

  “But why were they coming after her?” I asked, no one in particular. I stared into the middle distance, aware of Fua and Hank exchanging a glance as though they were annoyed with my sudden consideration. “Remember that day you interrupted my library session?”

  “Yesterday?” Hank asked.

  “Was that yesterday?”

  His laugh held a darkness to it. “The day got super long.”

  “I’d almost figured something out. I was so close. The dots were nearly connected.”

  “Do we need to find a five-year-old to help you with connecting them faster?”

  I glared at him.

  “I mean like kids are better at dot-to-dots, Dred.”

  “I know what you meant.” I closed my eyes and shook my head.

  “Why’s a mob of vampires and void demons working for your friend in the Hawaiian shirt?” Fua asked. He grabbed a handful of almonds off his desk.

  I crossed my arms and began pacing around the perimeter of Fua’s office. “That’s the thing. He’s doing something. And I don’t know if he’s working for himself or someone else. What I do know is that Vivian is traumatized. When’s our resident Jungian coming in again?”

  “Thursday,” Fua said.

  “Good. She’s going to need it. It took everything I had to get her to come with me today.’

  “If they’re looking for her, they’d check your house.”

  “I know. I’m a bit ticked about that. My house isn’t safe. I need Bianca to come put a spell on it till this is over.”

  Without warning, Hank stormed out of Fua’s office, muttering something about needing air.

  Fua and I stared at each other.

  “What’s that about?”

  “You’ll need to ask him, Dred. Not my place.” Fua tossed an almond into his mouth.

  I wouldn’t give up so easily. “What were you guys discussing before I came in?”

  “Again, not my place.”

  I sighed. “You’re annoying as hell. Fine. Be that way. I hope this means you don’t gossip about me behind my back.” I hoped Hank would tell me when he was ready.

  He laughed. “Figure this out, Dred. Solve it. Whatever you need to do. We can’t have battles with vampire mobs in the middle of the city every day.”

  The tone in his voice made me feel heavy inside. “Consider it solved.” It wasn’t, but I wasn’t going to bitch about that. He was right.

  “If it’s real, your so-called fabric is getting tattered from this. We killed a lot of supernaturals last night. Humans are better off without those particular supers, of course. But, does your fabric care about that?”

  I sighed. “We had little choice, Captain. I’m not even sure if the Fates will notice. I guess we’ll find out. I’m definitely not going to sit idly by while a mob comes after us.”

  “The point is that we’re at the mercy of this entity who doesn’t give a damn about the city, supernaturals, or your theoretical Fabric. We do. He’s got the upper hand because of that. We need to level things out.”

  “How?”

  “Figure out what he wants. What’s his next move, Dred?”

  I left Fua’s office and went to find Hank. Bianca and Cristian were out in the f
ield somewhere—the main floor of the Fortress was empty.

  Finding myself at Dorothy’s desk, I smiled at Vivian who still looked shaken after the attack the night before. She looked up from an open book.

  “You look better,” I said, hoping an observation like that eased her a bit.

  “Dorothy’s keeping me entertained. And so is this book.”

  “The book is boring, sweetie. No need to tell fibs,” Dorothy said.

  “I’m learning a lot.”

  I chortled. “Good. You’ll need it.”

  “Dottie. We need to talk, lady,” I said, looking at the older woman. “Let’s go get a drink. It’s lunch. Not too early for it.”

  “Can I come?” Vivian asked looking alarmed.

  “It’s a bar. So, no. Not in this state, kiddo,” I said.

  “Supernatural bar,” Dorothy pointed out. “So, that’s a different set of rules.

  “Alone, please.” I shrugged. “Stay here, Vivian. You’re safe in here.”

  “So, I’m not safe outside here?” she asked, looking even more alarmed.

  “You’re safe with me or Hank or any of us. For now. Which is why you need to stay here.”

  “Fine, Jesus.” She slouched down into her seat and braced her elbow on Dottie’s desk.

  “Your parents would hate to hear you say that.”

  “That’s why I ran away,” she said, raising her eyebrows at me and smirking.

  The bar was two blocks down—a walkable distance—and its disguise was a hair salon called Angelo’s Angels. Angelo, a male name, for a salon whose clientele was clearly supposed to be females.

  Go figure. The fae named it, and at times they seemed to not quite grasp the nuance of human naming conventions.

  Beyond the facade, Angelo’s was actually called Oberon’s Scepter. I also found that funny, since Oberon lived in the old country, so it was some kind of immigrant move of the fae, giving a nod back to their roots. Maybe they were homesick or something.

  Inside, I spotted Hank hunched over the bar, sitting alone, twirling ice in a whiskey glass. A pang of concern and a twitch of curiosity stole through me, but it would have to wait. I needed answers from Dorothy. So I led her past the tables where various supernaturals drank, laughed, and gambled, and took a booth in the dark corner, where I’d have a view of the whole room and planned to keep an eye on Hank and nab him before he left.

  “Dorothy, my love, what’ll it be?” The serving fairy, Thrice, asked. He stood beside our table with an empty tray balanced against his leg. His yellow hair was streaked with black. His face was decorated with several tattoos, but I’d known him so long I no longer noticed Thrice’s appearance.

  “I’ll have my pre-afternoon drink, my boy. A tequila sunrise,” she said.

  I looked up. “You have any jalapeño stuffed olives?”

  “Sure thing. So how many you want?”

  “I want them in a drink, actually. Can you put three of them on a toothpick and drop them into a whiskey on the rocks?”

  The fairy cocked his head to the side. “What kind of whiskey?”

  “Bourbon, Irish whiskey, Scotch. I don’t care. Maybe something slightly sweet, so not Scotch.”

  “Bourbon, then?”

  “Try that. And call it ‘fire and bullets.’”

  Thrice laughed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever you say, Dred,” he said and walked off.

  I frowned, looking after him. “What’s he mean by that?”

  “Well, my girl, he seems to think you’re being silly.”

  “Pfft. I’m being cool. What does he know, anyway?” I shrugged.

  We were silent for a moment, then I gave Dorothy a look.

  “Uh oh, I know that look when I see it,” she said.

  “Relax, Dottie. I’m not going to ask you anything you don’t want to tell me. Probably.”

  “You know how I feel about probing questions into my past.”

  “Yes, I’ve heard the rumors.” I squinted, remembering some of the tales about Dottie’s wrath.

  “Oh, Dred, not rumors. I did turn someone into a bug once for not backing off.”

  I blinked. Should I believe her? “Who?”

  “It was long ago. You won’t have heard of him.”

  “Tell me the story anyway.”

  Our drinks arrived and Dorothy lifted hers, the beautiful colors bleeding together, and took a sip. “Oh, I don’t think so, hon. But cheers!”

  I sighed and clinked my glass into hers. I took a sip. Not bad. I’d try it again another day with a different whiskey, till I’d perfected the recipe. I ate an olive.

  I relented on the story, opting to not push it. I knew how far I could go with Dorothy and had learned plenty of lessons going to the limits. She’d tell me someday if she ever wanted to, now that she knew I was curious.

  “But that’s not why we’re here, is it, Dred? You want something else.”

  I could never fool her. “How do you kill a void demon? I’ve never had to know, till now, apparently. If you hadn’t shown up when you did, I’d be toast.”

  “Very true, my girl. Very true. Well.” She tapped a long nail on the wooden table. Her nail was painted hot pink. “Their power is ancient—they’re drawing on something no one else gets to draw on.”

  “Right. The void before the universe began.”

  “Correct. The only natural counter is something equally powerful, but on the other side of the spectrum. The thing that overcame void was light, the kind of light that created motion, set the universe spinning.”

  “So… a thrown spear of light?”

  “Together, the motion and the light burst through its shield, unspooled the energy of void in the demon, and then killed it like any other weapon.”

  “My only option against a void demon is a spear of light?”

  Dorothy took a drink. “Or something similar.”

  I shook my head. “But my mentor is the slowest mentor in the universe. He’ll never get to that lesson.”

  “And you’re content to wait?”

  “What choice do I have?”

  “I should think you’d be free to ask anyone else for lessons if that’s what you decide. Or learn from books. Or anywhere.”

  “From you?”

  She laughed and raised a blonde eyebrow that had been dyed black. “I could try. But our magic is fundamentally different.”

  I couldn’t help the sigh escaping me.

  “What’s going on with him?” Dorothy asked, nodding toward the bar. I followed her gaze and saw Hank standing up to leave.

  “Oh, he can’t go yet.” I said. “Sorry Dottie, I’ll have to catch up with you later. I need to talk to him.”

  I didn’t wait to hear her response. I slid out of the booth and ran toward the bar carrying my drink with me. Through the haze of smoke and filtered light from the windows, I rushed, nearly colliding with other patrons as they stood or shifted on their feet.

  “Hank,” I said, breathless, sitting down as he stood up.

  He jumped and looked at me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket. “Dred, what are you doing here? Did you follow me?”

  “You caught me. I’m your stalker.”

  “Real funny. I was just heading back.”

  I touched his arm, resisting pulling on it to get him to sit. “Hang on a minute, if you don’t mind. Sit back down.”

  He was motionless. His eyes hidden behind his sunglasses. “I don’t want to keep drinking.”

  “No one’s asking you to.”

  “Wrong. The bartender is. She said, and I quote, ‘if you’re not going to have another drink, kindly give up your seat so a drinker can sit there.’ Only, she didn’t say ‘kindly.’ Would have been nice if she had.”

  “She’ll be fine. Sit back down. Please.”

  He obliged and I took a deep breath. Today was the day for answers.

  36

  Hank wasn’t going to just point blank tell me what I wanted to know, and I wasn’t goin
g to ask him to. We were still learning the ropes. We were both like one of those fun ropes courses that kids did, and I hadn’t even gotten off the ground level with him. And he certainly felt like a rookie when it came to handling me.

  The metaphor leaves a lot to be desired, but maybe I’m not the best poet.

  “Void demons, right?” I began, shaking my head and expelling a hefty sigh. Perhaps he’d take that and run with it. “Did you get any sleep last night?’

  He made a noise like an affirmative kind of grunt.

  “That’s what I thought. Good thing Dottie showed up when she did.” I sipped my whiskey and fished out another olive.

  “What are you drinking, Dred?” He pulled his sunglasses off and squinted at my glass. Finally. Naked eyes would help me manage the conversation. “Is that bourbon with olives?”

  Oh, that’s how to get him talking—an unusual drink. Good to know. I filed that away. Might come in handy someday.

  “Yeah, my very own concoction. I’m calling it Fire and Bullets. My specialty.”

  “Looks disgusting.”

  “Well,” I said, scoffing. “You won’t really know until you try it. Want a sip?”

  He sneered, but I detected a slight glimmer in his gaze, plus a tiny spidering of crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes. “I’ll never try that. The combination sounds like poison.”

  “No more than the usual poison of alcohol,” I said. “Do you like olives?”

  “I don’t hate olives.”

  “I guess that’s an answer,” I said. “So Hank, I sort of know how to fight a void demon, now. I just talked to Dottie about it and she’s going to try to teach me the spell. The bright side, right? That’s the bright side to the whole problem of void demons being in league with that Hawaiian shirt guy. So let’s look on it. That’s some good news for next time it happens. Cheery news, right?”

  “Sure it is, Dred.” He turned to look at me. “Am I not cheery?”

  “No. You seem not cheery.”

  He removed the drink from my hand. “You using this?” He took a swig and drew a sharp breath. “Mmm. Thanks.”