by J. D. Brown
“Keep questioning him, Ema. This is a delicate procedure. You must be the one in control.”
I ignored Nikolas, thinking only of the conversation Naamah had with Jesu the first time I’d met him in his home in Helsinki. He had asked Jesu to let me face Apollyon even though there was a chance I wouldn’t survive and Jesu would fail. That’s why I was supposed to be training. To prevent being killed in the process. We all knew I was going to face Apollyon eventually. We all knew Jesu’s premonition would come to light, but my training had been interrupted.
Actually, it had never really begun, thanks to Bridget. Sweet Jesu wouldn’t go back on his mother’s command to keep me alive, not just because she was his sire, but also because he loved me. Had always loved me. He couldn’t do what Naamah asked because it would crush him twice over.
I met Naamah’s gaze and shook my head. “I haven’t advanced, but it’s not Jesu’s fault.”
He straightened his back and sighed. “That is unfortunate.”
“Ema,” Nikolas growled.
Damn it, I wasn’t a detective. “Naamah, I’m sorry but…” I tilted my head to the side and dug out the earpiece. “I’ve been wearing this. There’s a wire under my shirt too.” I faced the long mirror with a scowl. “They’re watching and listening to everything. I didn’t want to interrogate you. I only agreed because I wanted to know if you were okay. So, are you okay? Really?”
Naamah chuckled. “Ema, don’t think this is the first time I’ve ever seen a one-way window before.” He cocked a brow and gestured at the large glass pane. “My wife is the one who came up with the design for those electric cells.”
That took a moment to register. Maria created those hellish cages? I blinked. “How is Maria, by the way, and where is she?”
His gaze turned guarded and his lips pressed into a thin line, disappearing into his mustache and beard. A buzz sliced through the tension and the door unlatched. Nikolas stormed into the room with Tancred close behind him.
“You deliberately sabotaged the interrogation!”
“I thought it was going well,” I mumbled.
Tancred grabbed Naamah’s upper arm and yanked him to his feet. I winced and opened my mouth to tell Tancred to back off, but Naamah spoke first. “I’m ready to talk.”
Tancred and Nikolas froze and then faced him.
Naamah wet his lips. “I am ready to cooperate. I will tell you everything I know, just please… promise you will unbind me and return my freedom.”
Nikolas seethed. “Do you think I’m an idiot? How will I know you’re not lying? How can I be sure you won’t go to your king and alert him of our awareness?”
“Apollyon is not my king. I serve the Neo-Draugrian people and I serve Prince Jalmari, but in light of the prince’s disappearance, I am the next legitimate heir of the throne. Do you really want to hold me prisoner and start a war when we’re already in the midst of one? You know if Stefán ascends in my place that is exactly what you’ll get from him. That vampyre’s loyalty to Jalmari is as deep as mine, but his head’s not as clear.”
Nikolas’ gaze narrowed as his fangs ground together, but I could tell Naamah had already won his case. After a moment’s hesitation, Nikolas motioned for Tancred to release Naamah. Tancred grunted his disapproval, but did as he was told and let go of Naamah. He nodded in mock thanks and then reclaimed his seat across the desk.
“Okay,” Nikolas started. “Your freedom in exchange for your information. Where is Apollyon?”
Naamah looked him in the eye and answered plainly. “He is in Egypt.”
“Egypt?” My brow wrinkled. “What is he doing in Egypt?”
“Last I saw him, he was looking for a ring.”
“What ring?”
“Ema,” Nikolas growled. “I am the one doing the questioning.”
I winced. “Sorry.”
Nikolas sighed and then faced Naamah. “Is this ring significant?”
Naamah’s gaze shifted to the side. “It is of great significance to him, so I would say that makes it significant to us.”
“Care to elaborate?”
The muscles in Naamah’s neck rose as his back stiffened. I noticed his fists clench and unclench under the table. “This specific ring holds his philosopher’s stone.”
Nikolas raised his chin, eyes wide. “You mean he really had one?”
“Hold up,” I interjected. “What’s a philosopher’s stone?”
“It is a vessel.” Naamah steadied his gaze on Nikolas’. “It’s a small object through which powerful energy can be transferred or stored. They are created and used by alchemists, and yes, he really had one.”
Nikolas shook his head. “I’ve heard horror stories about that stone when I was a boy. I didn’t think it was true.”
“I thought alchemy was just some Eastern mumbo-jumbo about turning lead into gold,” I said.
Naamah shook his head. “Alchemy is an ancient science similar to chemistry. The basic practice is that of transmutation by switching out one element for another until the desired result is achieved. Turning lead into gold is one such example, but alchemy is much more advanced and can be applied to biological matter as well, allowing one to retain their youth and live forever, or even call up the dead.”
I smacked my palm against my forehead and then slid it down my face. Sure, why not? After all, Leena used a spell to transfer us to the underworld. At least now I was certain that Enki was a zombie and his tattoos were a spell.
“Apollyon is a genius alchemist.” Naamah’s fists remained clenched and his gaze bore into the side of the table. “He is obsessed with this idea that he can…” He shook his head, his eyes vacant yet flashing. A painful memory played across his features. “…That he can create a more powerful vampyre by transferring powers from different clans into one being. He experimented on his own men… captives of war, slaves, soldiers and civilians, women and children... He wasn’t successful in his first life, but if he’s looking for that ring again…”
My blood ran cold. Making a more powerful vampyre? Transferring different powers into one? A lump too big to swallow formed in my throat and I suddenly felt lightheaded. No wonder Apollyon wanted me, I was exactly what he spent his life trying to achieve. A vampyre with a mix of powers.
“What of his title?” Nikolas asked. “We’re aware of his attack on the Neo-Draugrian Council. Does he plan to overthrow the democracy and rebuild his empire?”
Whatever darkness possessed Naamah passed as he considered Nikolas’ question. “There is no doubt in my mind that domination is on his agenda. He’s already declared war on his own son. He’ll either find his stone, or he’ll make a new one. After that he will increase his numbers, build an army, and take whatever he wants. He’s out for blood, Nikolas.” His gaze shifted to mine. A somber sheen glimmered in his black irises before he bowed his head.
Bile rose to my throat, burning my esophagus. “I… need some air.” I stood and marched toward the door without waiting for a reaction from the men. Tancred yanked the door open for me and I continued straight across the building to the front entrance. My mind hardly registered Jesu leaning against the frame until we were practically side by side. His brow rose in question when I didn’t stop, and he immediately followed me outdoors.
“How did it go? Does he want to speak with me?” When I didn’t answer, his tone hardened. “Ema, what happened? What did he say?”
I stopped midway between the warehouse and the electric gate. My butt decided the middle of a dirt-paved driveway was a great spot to sit and I immediately sank to the ground.
“Ema…” Jesu caught my arms, but my dead weight was more than he expected and he fell to his knees. “Are you all right?”
I sucked in a deep breath. The clear night air dispelled some of my anxiety, but my hands shook. He wrapped his fingers over them and then stroked my hair with his other hand. I exhaled and leaned against his chest, letting myself lavish in the safety of his embrace. I knew he wanted answers, but h
e said nothing as his arms patiently wrapped around my back.
“Jesu, I’m either extremely lucky or extremely dead.”
His chest tensed as he held me at arm’s length and examined me from head to toe. A protective snarl rolled through his words. “What happened?”
“Nothing physical,” I sighed. “Just something Naamah said.”
His grip on my shoulders softened a notch. “Is Naamah okay?”
“He’s fine… I think. Nikolas agreed to let him go in exchange for information about Apollyon. They’re cooperating and playing nice. I just… needed some air.”
Jesu’s gaze reconsidered my disheveled state. “Something Naamah said scared you.”
My perceptive lover. “I’m fine. Really.”
“Did he say anything about Maria?”
I shook my head. “I asked, but I didn’t get an answer.”
Jesu sighed and then glanced around. “Can you stand? Some of the soldiers are starting to look concerned.”
I scoffed and then we helped each other up. I patted the dirt off my bottom while Jesu swiped at his pant legs. The warehouse entrance opened and Naamah walked out, sans electronic cuffs.
“Naamah!” Jesu headed toward his friend. They met in a manly half-hug, patting each other on the back. “It is a relief to see you.”
“You as well, my friend, but His Majesty tells me he would like a word with you.”
Jesu cocked his brow. “Me?”
“Just a quick word. Go on, we have much to talk about after.”
Jesu glanced over his shoulder at me. I rolled my eyes and waved him forward. I didn’t need to be waited on hand and foot. He nodded and then ducked inside the building. Naamah closed the gap between us and I smiled.
“It’s so good to have you back, Naamah, but… what’s happened to Maria? I saw the pain on your face in there. Please, if it’s bad, just say it quick. I won’t repeat it to Jesu.”
Naamah sighed. A deep sadness pulled the corners of his mouth into a thin frown and his black eyes dulled. “I am your ally, Ema.”
“Of course you are. I know that. I told Nikolas and Tan—”
“Just remember. Remember that I am your ally, no matter what happens.”
“Naamah, what are you—”
“I am sorry Ema, but Maria is everything to me.”
He snatched my wrist. My molecules ripped apart, from a solid to a gas, and I was pulled through the air at a speed that could out-race a jet. Wherever the heck Naamah was taking me, I was going to vomit when we landed.
Chapter 21
My molecules jolted together and my hands and knees hit a very solid tile floor. A stench like rotten meat and sulfur wrinkled my nose. It was so strong, my blood thinned and I swayed, lightheaded. I squeezed my eyes shut, hoping the dizziness would quickly pass, then opened them and tried to get a grip on my surroundings.
Naamah stood to my left in a wide hallway made of white stucco walls leading to a set of tin doors. Mismatched lawn furniture from the ‘70s gathered around a three-legged table. Thin laminated cupboards leaned askew above a rusty sink.
My companion gripped my upper arm and pulled me to my feet, making the dizziness worse. My head pounded and my voice felt far away. “Where are we?”
His grim breath whispered. “Alexandria, Egypt.”
My eyes popped wide. “What?”
The tin doors rattled open. A half-naked man and woman entered the room. He wore brown trousers, she wore a skimpy spandex skirt. Intricate cuneiform tattoos adorned the rest of their bodies, especially the woman, whose breasts and nipples were covered in the permanent ink. Puss oozed from the open flesh between the black lines. Maggots wriggled in between. Bile rose to my mouth, but I managed to swallow it. The male said something in a foreign language. Egyptian? Or maybe a far more ancient tongue. The cuneiform tattoos matched Enki’s and I knew these beings were of the same ilk that killed half the Neo-Draugrian Council. The Saga-Giga. Apollyon’s undead thugs.
I’m so screwed.
Naamah spoke to them in their ancient language as thoughts of phasing and fleeing dominated my mind. I didn’t understand. Why would Naamah bring me here? He was on my side… wasn’t he? Somehow, I didn’t think Naamah would help me escape.
The male’s rotten fingers held out two thin metallic bracelets lined with little prongs on the insides. I groaned and rolled my eyes. “Not this again.”
Naamah’s grip tightened. “Cooperate, Ema. Don’t do anything foolish.”
“Don’t worry, I think you’re doing enough foolishness for the both of us. I mean, really? You brought me to Apollyon’s hideout. Why are you doing this?”
“Just cooperate and stay alive,” he growled.
The zombie gripped my arm and fastened the first cuff around my wrist. I cringed at his touch. Bone and raw flesh, where the tip and fingernail should have been, pressed against my skin. It took all my strength to resist the urge to pull away. Naamah’s advice to cooperate was correct, even though he was totally stabbing me in the back. Thing One and Thing Two had fangs like Enki’s and I’d already lost a finger.
Once both cuffs belted my wrists, Naamah let his hand fall away. The female clasped a thick metal chain around my neck. She smirked and then turned on her heel and started toward the tin doors. She wrapped the other end of the chain around her arm and across her palm. The slack soon ran out and she jerked me forward. Zombie-man shoved me from behind. I caught my balance before I could fall and gave them both my best dramatic sigh. Naamah kept pace at my side as we marched past the threshold, but I could bring myself to meet his gaze. Anger kept my attention firmly ahead.
Well, at least he didn’t flat-out leave me here.
A small courtyard opened on the other side of the doors. A few palm trees dotted the dry, dusty ground, reaching taller than the walls, their leaves yellowed and wilted. A fountain stood in the center of the courtyard, empty and crumbling into itself like a broken clay pot.
A shack stood at the end of the courtyard, made of the same stucco walls as the main part of the house, with a flat tin roof and a small wooden door. The female opened it and entered. Zombie-man shoved me through the brink and Naamah followed, closing the door behind us.
Candlelight brightened the stale atmosphere. The space was about the size of a two-car garage. Wooden tables and shelves lined the walls, cluttered with jarred herbs, dozens of maps, beakers and rubber stoppers, cardboard boxes filled with scrap metal, and who knows what else. Under other circumstances, it would appear to be harmless old junk in a harmless old workshop, but, right now, knowing who my captors were, it looked like Dr. Mengele’s exam room in the Auschwitz concentration camp.
A man stood behind one of the wooden tables with his fists pressed against the top. Wavy black and silver-peppered locks fell over his face as he studied a map covering most of the table. A dark red liquid gathered in the center of the map and then branched out like the hairs of a spider web, crossing the continents and seas. To the side sat a shallow bowl filled with smooth semi-precious stones. I glanced at Naamah from the corner of my eye, remembering what he said about Apollyon making a new philosopher’s stone if he couldn’t find his old one. My muscles tensed. Had Apollyon already begun making a new vessel for his powers?
The man studying the map was tall, the skin on his hands an alabaster white. He wore a long, black coat with fur trim on the cuffs and collar. The breadth of his shoulders and the thickness of his biceps spoke of the hard muscle beneath.
I was sure he heard us enter, yet he didn’t alter his attention from the map until Zombie-man spoke. His head lifted then, and the shoulder-length waves fell away from his face. I expected another half-rotted monstrosity, but this man’s face and chest were solid with no tattoos. Blood-red irises locked gazes with mine. His brow softened and his lips curled in a pleased grin, exposing sharp crooked teeth. “Ema Marx.”
I gasped. The familiarity of his heavy accent sent a shiver down my spine. Memories of a literal hell raced to th
e surface of my thoughts. The last time I saw this man, he was practically a skeleton—a shriveled little mummy. Now, he easily stood over six-feet tall as he straightened his back and came around the table.
His grin held as he circled me, his red gaze roaming over every inch of my body. I couldn’t believe I was here, in front of him. I glared over my shoulder at Naamah, but he didn’t notice. He watched Apollyon with raised brows and a tight frown. A hand lifted my wrist, snapping my attention back to Apollyon. He inspected my maimed knuckle, his brow furrowed as a low growl rattled in his throat. I scowled and yanked my arm away.
Don’t be mad at me, that blunder is all on you and your buddy, Enki.
Apollyon snickered at my reaction and then reached for my hair. I held my breath as his fingers combed through the locks. Sharp fingernails grazed my neck. I jumped out of reach and recoiled. He chuckled and then said something in a foreign language to his thugs. The female handed the chain to the male and then went in search of something in the boxes under the tables.
Zombie-man grabbed a fistful of my hair from the back of my head and then yanked. I screamed and fell to one knee, my hands instinctively rising to pry off his disgusting rotten fingers. My nails sank into spongy flesh and scraped against bone. Vomit scalded my throat and I pulled my hands away, horror-struck at the filth oozing under my fingernails.
The thug laughed and then yanked me to my feet. He pushed me toward the far wall, his grip still on the back of my head. Every part of me wanted to phase and flee, but I knew that if I tried the electronic handcuffs would go off and force me to solidify, leaving me incapacitated and a hundred times more vulnerable. It was better to have control of my body.
Think! There had to be something I could do, some way out of this. I was the fated girl from Jesu’s premonition; it was my destiny to fight Apollyon, but how? I was double-crossed, out-numbered, and out-powered. Lost in thought, I tripped over something and started to fall. The thug held me up by my hair like a puppet. I screamed as pain shot through my scalp and I scrambled to regain my balance before chunks of my hair could be ripped from my head.