A dark thought swam through the murk of the sorrow in my head, why couldn’t it have been the demon?
Terrible of me.
What I regretted more than that thought was that we’d never know what the man had been doing.
I wondered, in the shock of the moment, if Uriel would return to his domain with the demise of the summoner?
I rested the dragon’s head on the ground, closed each eye, pushing the knot of emotions away, and rose, looking for Vivian. I found her, cower against the brick in a far corner of the roof.
Whatever happened next would be out of my hands. Was this over? Could I stop caring now about what Cagnus had been trying to do or was this just the beginning?
That idly bounced around my head as I reached the kid and motioned for her to come to me. She nearly leapt into my arms and clung to me, quivering.
“It’s over now, you’re safe,” I said, feeling her tears against my naked arm. My sports bra was covered in sweat and probably a bit of blood. “I’m sorry for not getting here faster, and also sorry that I might have some vampire blood on me.”
“Gross,” she said, pulling away. She looked at me, her lip quivering, defiance in her eyes, maybe wrestling with her innate I-don’t-need-anyone attitude. Then she hugged me again. “I don’t care. This has been the shittiest day of my life.”
“Dred!” Hank called, jogging up to us. “What are we going to do with the demon? And, apparently, the angel?”
I turned to look back at the rooftop scene, letting go of Vivian as I did.
“Let’s get the demon back to its nest. I’ll call in the chopper.”
“What about the dragon?” Vivian asked in a wobbly voice.
“Didn’t make it.” My voice gave away the ache in my heart. “Poor thing.”
“Really?” The wobble in Vivian’s voice intensified.
“Yeah, I’m so sorry.”
I thought of Blue down in the sanctuary and the dead jerk on the roof. What a selfish bastard. Who was he? What had he been trying to accomplish? I felt like I was clutching blindly in the literal darkness for answers as the night settled over us, the damage from the battle on the roof lit up in the glow of the Temple’s lighting.
And what the hell was I going to do about the angel?
I shouldn’t have even wondered. As though in answer to my thought, three vampires suddenly crested the roof behind us, surveyed the scene, and immediately ran to the still confused Uriel standing motionless in the summoning circle, looking around as though baffled. I’d never met an angel, maybe they were kind of dumb.
“I guess these idiots think that’s their angel?” Hank muttered.
A human appeared, floating down to land beside Uriel, calling for order among the vampires.
“What is this? Grand Central Station for supernaturals?” Hank blurted. He’d already dismissed his summoned Glock, so the appearance of new enemies concerned us both. “My gun’s gone. The best I can summon now is a sword, Dred.”
“There’s got to be another weapon that’s better. Bow and arrow?”
“Same class as far as the ancient rules of Mages are concerned. It’s a projectile weapon, a field weapon if you will. And you will. We both will. And so now I can only do melee.”
“Well then, the only appropriate response right now is ‘oh shit.’ I don’t know who Mary Poppins is, but this isn’t going to be awesome.”
The new guy was someone special, I could tell from the way he moved. Arrogance and grace all wrapped up in one. And his clothing suggested that he regarded himself as royalty of some kind. He was magical, whoever he was, and he moved with the confidence of someone expecting to have his orders obeyed.
Black hair and light olive skin, he drew my eye and held it, rooted to him, and when he turned to look at me, a chill skittered across my skin.
“Dred Dixon, so nice to meet you. I regret that you and your team dispatched my primary servant, however. Shall I take the girl and call us even?”
“Over my dead body,” I said, before I could stop myself. I instantly regretted it.
“That could be arranged.”
“Shall we dance?” I asked, probing him with my words, hoping for some kind of revelation to my senses about what he was. Wizard. Mage. Druid. Something.
“I would ask you to help me in my mission, if I spare you.”
I chortled. “Hank, what do you think of this guy? He’s a hoot.”
“I don’t think we need you to spare us, pal,” Hank said. He’d summoned a golden sword and spun it a few times, experimentally. The standard flecks of brassy light spiraled away from it. “You might ask us to spare you, in fact.”
“A hilarious proposition,” the newcomer said.
“I don’t think I’ve met you, Mr. Floaty-pants,” I said, stalling for time, hoping to get a better read on what this guy was and how I could defeat him. “Your servant with bad style is gone. I’m sorry-not sorry about that—he was a parasite. But now you’re here. Looks like there’s still trash to clean up. In that case, I’d love to know your name. For the headstone.”
He threw his head back and laughed, the sound ringing pleasantly across the roof. At the same time, there was a chilling, maniacal quality to it. The threat of hysteria balanced right on the edge.
“He did my bidding. That’s all you need to know. As for myself, call me Joe Smith.”
“Oh please. Get a load of this, Hank,” I said. “Joe Smith. Really? Bland.”
“I should say not.”
“Do tell me, Joe, what kind of magic you possess. Sorcery, and something else.”
“This is my conversation, Dred. I shall steer it.”
“Shall what, now?” I was mentally running through the possible abilities he had—he had something else, I could tell. And if it was incredibly powerful, like Dorothy’s magic, I wanted to be prepared. He likely thought he would quickly dispose of us and be on his way.
If that happened, would this encounter be a failure? Yes, yes it would. His presence meant that the job wasn’t done, and he clearly had a big plan that wasn’t going to be just about money or power. If it were, he’d not be recruiting others to help him.
His assertion about the conversation was obviously to avoid the question. Which meant that whatever it was, my knowing it could compromise him.
I wasn’t aware of any rules governing blends of paranormal magic, but his avoidance of the topic, the fact that he had minions and had gotten vampires and demons to work for him meant that we were very likely standing in front of a very, very powerful person. Someone with sorcery and possibly charismatic powers—a type of magic that very little was known about.
This was the place for it.
And so it matched. He wasn’t a vampire, but here Joe was, running a show starring void demons and vampires. And what else? Why summon Uriel?
“An angel. A demon. A dragon. And a little girl. What’s the game, Joe?”
He moved toward me, and I was struck immediately by how much more alluring he suddenly was. Had I thought that vampire who’d almost used my neck as a binkie was hot? Joe was like a god.
I blinked and shook my head. So soon after being in the thralls of the vamp, there was no way I’d let myself succumb again to the charming powers of someone else.
“Dred,” Hank whispered, his voice full of worry.
“I felt it.” I gave him a reassuring look, letting him know I was all me. But not Vivian. She pushed past me and I grabbed her arm. “Not so fast, sweetheart. Thanks for giving yourself away, Joe. I was guessing charismatic. Now I know.”
He grinned attractively. “Join me, Dred. I’ll make you powerful. You’ll be my right hand woman. Lover, if you prefer it.”
The offer sounded hella hot, I have to say, but only because he was working me over. I clenched my jaw and grabbed hold of the memory of the dragon dying in my arms.
Beside me, Hank snorted and swung his sword, one-handed, in two threatening arcs.
“I don’t know if I should j
ust chop your head off or shoot you with my gun.” Hank unholstered his non-magical Glock. “Either would suit me.”
“Ah, is this your lover?”
Hank snorted again. “She wishes.”
“He’d love that.” We exchanged a look and I smirked at him. I should have affirmed that he was, just to get the lover offer off the table. Like having a fake wedding band to keep the Casanovas at bay at the club.
“If you’re not taken, then consider my offer good for one month.”
“Would that be in your harem? As your queen? I mean let’s get to the details of this offer.” I felt Hank’s eyes on me as he turned to stare, aghast. Keeping Joe talking was my goal. This was the only chance I’d have to find out who the hell this liar Joe Smith was. What was his real name? Who did he work for? Why summon an angel?
I needed to live for any of it to matter.
“No harem. Not yet. You’re a sly one, Dred Dixon. I heard that from my friend you just killed. Cagnus was a gentle soul. I shall miss him dearly.”
“Gentle? I think you’d want to get some references before you start calling this guy gentle.”
“Cagnus was an intellectual. He wasn’t happy about the things we had to do for our plan. That was why I loaned him some of my helpers.”
“Helpers,” I scoffed. I couldn’t believe this man. Delusional.
He turned to direct the vampires who had put Uriel in a spell of binding.
I aimed my gun at Joe while he wasn’t looking. When he turned back, he flinched at the stark sight of the .45 barrel pointed at him.
“The angel stays here.”
“Oh please, what use do you have with an angel?”
“Heavenly intervention,” I said. “What do you need it for?”
“Ah, clever girl. Uriel will be the first star in my throne.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
He frowned. “I take back what I said about you being clever. You haven’t figured it out yet?”
My mind scrambled to put it together. “Flames. But why?”
“That is a start.” He nodded appraisingly. “Now, you must forgive me. The offer about being my lover—one month, Dred. I could use my powers to convince you, but I will never accept counterfeits when it comes to love and desire. However, I will use them to leave a scene without bloodshed. Now then, sleep.” He waved a hand and the universe went dark.
43
The roof looked like the aftermath of an apocalyptic nightmare when I finally woke up. I stretched my neck and gasped. A massive crick screamed at me.
“OK, so move carefully,” I whispered.
I stood up, my bones feeling like what I imagined my grandma’s must feel like when she woke up: decrepit, achey.
Remembering everything that happened before Joe Smith forced me into a nap, a strange despondency washed over me. The death of the dragon. The arrival of the charismatic—the man pulling Cagnus’ strings. What kind of silly name was Cagnus?
Villains always picked the dumbest names, including Joe Smith.
There were three bodies left, aside from my still sleeping partner and Vivian. The morning sun was already sucking the sweat from my body as I quietly walked around, replaying the previous night’s events in my mind, looking for things I’d missed that could tell me more about what we were dealing with.
Vivian and Hank remained motionless, snoring blissfully. One of them—Hank, I thought—snorted loudly and rolled over. I crouched next to the body of the dragon. Its scales were cold to the touch. A fury rose in me again for the loss. The demon must have escaped, which was both good news and bad news. I hoped the creature knew the way back to its lair at the amusement park, and that along the way it didn’t get into too much trouble.
The other bodies belonged to the man Hank and I had killed, Cagnus, and the vampire that had tried to feast on my neck. Hank had pulled the trigger on Cagnus, but my intent had been for me to be the one to kill him, especially once the dragon died. And we were a partnership, so I shared ownership, both the good and the bad.
Broken granite, chalky scars from the summoning circles, chipped bricks, and other wreckage betrayed the showdown that hadn’t ended the way I’d wanted it to.
From the center of the temple’s roof where I stood mentally piecing things back together, I saw Hank and Vivian both begin to stir near the far corner. The day was heating up. Sleeping through such conditions would be a real chore. They’d awaken fully soon.
I strode to the edge of the roof where Hank and I had climbed the scaffolding and looked over the rim of crenelations, remembering that things down below hadn’t been serene, either. I bit my lip, anticipating what I’d see, imagining the worst so I could count it not half-bad when I finally took it in.
Down below, ambulances and police cars lined the sidewalks. Bodies lay strewn around the plaza and security tape marked a perimeter blocking crowds from coming inside.
I sighed. Not half bad?
Vampires. The assholes seemed to have run amok and enjoyed themselves. It was terrible. Worse than I would have imagined, yet the wreckage solidified the sentiment that I was dealing with a massive jerk-off.
Just as I began to wonder about Bianca, Cristian, and the others, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
“Bee?” I said, holding it to my ear.
“What happened to you?”
I sighed. “Took a nap on the roof of the temple. Very relaxing. You should try it sometime.”
She ignored the sarcasm and let out a sigh that kind of hurt my ear, honestly. “I was so worried.”
“A simple chopper fly-over would have found us.”
“Didn’t have it. We were fighting back vamps, who were having a dinner party on tourists. Who’s with you?”
“Hank and Vivian. They’re both still asleep. Where are you? Is the clean up crew working on this yet?”
“Yeah,” she sighed again, and when she spoke, I heard a warble in her voice. “It was so bad last night. None of us got much sleep. The carnage is some of the worst I’ve seen. You’re still on the roof?”
“There are three bodies up here. A vampire, a dragon, and a guy called Cagnus, who brought all this down on the city. Fua with you?
“Yes. He’s been on a tear.”
“Let him know where I am. I’m going to wake up Hank and Vivian, and get clean up started.”
Fua wasn’t happy. Could I blame the guy?
The hierarchy of the organization and how it interacted with the normals was such that we had a simple job—don’t let this shit get out of control or there’d be a war against supernaturals and paranormals. And if that happened, everyone on my side of that column would pay in the worst ways possible.
It’d be genocide.
So, the fallout we were dealing with was ugly. Powerful people were very, very mad.
And with the charismatic getting away, I knew it was only going to get worse until he was stopped.
The problem was I didn’t know his real name, what his endgame was, and most important, where he was.
Long-term, the only way to track him was going to be with the random issues popping up that were related to his goals. Like the demons and the dragons that had started it all.
What would be next? Could I anticipate it?
Something big was going on. My only chance to prevent a major war between normals and supernaturals would be to try to stay one step ahead of him.
I didn’t even dare to believe for a second that I’d seen the last of the charismatic sorcerer.
But what next?
44
There were two spare rooms in my house. One, Vivian now lived in.
Having a kid was kind of cramping my style. But it wasn’t like I brought men home every night. Or any nights. Because work, in fact, interfered with that sort of fun.
Having a ghostly mentor did as well. I guess it could be said that I was likely going to become an old maid until I found a lover that was aware of my job and magical lifestyle. I mean, I didn’t
want to live out my days like Samantha and Darrin from Bewitched, gaslighting my husband with lies about my magic use until he was the merest shell of a man. You know, like Darrin was?
The other spare room I used as my office. I’d put up several wards and hexes around it with the help of Bianca, because prying eyes weren’t welcome. And now that Vivian was staying with me, I needed to be even more careful.
Twenty four hours after the showdown on the tippy top of the temple, and Vivian was in her room and I was in my office, studying my crazy-stalker wall.
That was my term of endearment for the wall where I’d begun keeping track of the seemingly random stuff going on. For a while I’d suspected that more was happening than just random attacks, and it began all the way back when Scott was killed.
Rows of built-in shelves held my books, a few special edition grimoires, enchanted weapons, potions, herbs, and mundane weapons. A lot of the stuff I’d bought from garage sales and the witch’s market. You could say I was saving up for a rainy day.
It was that Mormon upbringing—staying prepared for the end times. I mean, who knew what the future held? I couldn’t help it. I had to keep myself stocked up for whatever happened next. Losing Scott had also taught me that. Carpe diem. Make merry for tomorrow we die, and also, be sure you have all the necessary supplies for making merry.
Not that I had anything in the office for making merry. And in general, Mormons didn’t make merry, even though I was no longer a Mormon myself. What they did do was savor industry and hard work, like bees, collecting pollen all summer.
Using my computer, I printed out a random male model dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and tacked it to the massive cork board to represent Cagnus. He was dead now, but still a nexus for things that had occurred.
The image I found to represent the charismatic was that of Thoreau. It was the best I could do—I didn’t want to print out a photo of Joseph Smith and put him up as the namesake of the man who’d just offered me a place at his side like a total weirdo. But what can you expect from a narcissist like that?
Flames to Free (Dred Dixon Chronicles Book 1) Page 23