by Susan Illene
“It is good to see you again, Bartol,” the vampire said, dipping his chin in greeting.
“Thank you for meeting with us.”
“After what happened here recently.” Eduard shook his head. “How could I not?”
He gestured for them to follow and led them down the street to a two-story stone building with no outward clue to its purpose. They walked inside where they discovered the place was nothing short of a high-end brothel. It was lavishly decorated in red and black with lounging furniture in the front room, as well as a small bar. No women were around now, but Bartol could hear them upstairs moving about.
“This is my nearest establishment from where I found you, but if you would prefer somewhere else to meet, we can arrange transportation to convene elsewhere,” Eduard said, turning to face them.
Bartol shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me.”
“We’ve been to more than our fair share of brothels over the years, haven’t we?” Caius grinned at him, old memories dancing in his eyes. “It’s hard to believe how long it’s been.”
“I definitely don’t have a problem with it.” Tormod’s eyes rounded as he gazed upstairs where several under-dressed women hung over the balcony. Other than female nerou and Emily, he’d spent little time around women and certainly none of the present variety.
“If you would like to stay for a little while afterward, I’d be happy to introduce you to a lady or two upstairs,” the vampire offered.
Tormod blushed, dipping his head. “I, uh, I don’t know...”
“We’ll discuss it later,” Bartol said.
In all likelihood, the young man was still a virgin. Neither he nor Caius would stop Tormod if he wished to stay for a while, but only if he was comfortable with the idea. It might even prove to be a good learning experience for the nerou and stop some of the sexually explicit graffiti he regularly painted around the compound in Alaska. His instructors were getting rather tired of it.
“Do you have someplace private where we can talk?” Caius asked.
“Of course.”
Eduard led them down the hallway toward the back where he had a well-appointed office. A desk sat in the center of the room, but there was also a comfortable seating area off to the left and a bar in the corner with an assortment of alcohol. The walls were painted hunter green with intricate crown molding accenting them. Bartol noted a lack of windows, but that didn’t surprise him. Vampires often had them blocked off, especially the older ones who could rise earlier in the day. To the right, a wide bookshelf took up the whole wall, filled with various treasures Eduard had picked up over the years.
They each accepted a drink before settling down in the sitting area.
“It’s good to see you again,” Eduard said, addressing Bartol.
He took a sip of his whiskey. It wouldn’t get him drunk, but he didn’t want that anyway. “It’s been a long time. I see you’ve done well for yourself, though.
“Better than some.” The vampire studied him, gaze running over Bartol’s burn scars. “And from what I’ve heard, I’ve certainly fared better than you.”
He shrugged. Bartol wasn’t about to discuss his time in Purgatory—not even with a man who understood pain better than most. Eduard had his own scars from his time as a human when he’d been captured as a prisoner of war, but he came to see them as badges of courage. Women weren’t repulsed by the lash marks on his back the way they would be with facial burns, which helped the vampire.
“What doesn’t kill us…” Bartol began, allowing his words to drift off.
“True enough.” Eduard’s expression became all business. “You came about the flu outbreak a demon instigated, yes?”
Bartol nodded. “But how do you know a demon was involved?”
“This was unlike any illness that has ever spread here before.” The vampire took a fortifying drink from his glass. “It struck fast and killed within twenty-four hours. Not only that, but it left the victims with black lips after they died.”
That was unusual. “Were there any other clues?”
“A witch came to me after she lost her brother in the outbreak and told me the disease had demonic ties. She claimed she could feel it.”
Caius knitted his brows. “Did you see the demon himself?”
“Once in passing.” Eduard sighed. “He didn’t appear to be anything more than an old man by the way he moved. I sensed nothing about him to indicate he was anything other than human, except for his red eyes. At the time, I’d thought it was a trick of the light since there was a flashing sign nearby, but now I wish I’d paid closer attention. It wasn’t until I conducted an investigation afterward that I realized the demon was the same person.”
“He was still quite weak then,” Bartol said, meeting the vampire’s frustrated gaze. “It’s doubtful you could have known.”
“If a sensor or nerou had been here, they would have noticed,” Tormod pointed out.
Eduard lifted a brow. “You are one of the infamous nerou, are you not?”
“Yes and no,” Caius answered for him. “He is Yerik’s son.”
“The daimoun? My God, I had no idea he even had a son.” The vampire turned interested eyes on Tormod. “I can see why they brought you if you have both angel and demon blood running through your veins.”
The hybrid tensed. “I have other uses.”
“He is also smart and highly astute,” Bartol defended his student. “He is well on his way to becoming an excellent tracker.”
And with Tormod’s abilities, he’d eventually surpass any supernatural in existence.
“Then I’m glad to have this opportunity to meet you,” Eduard said. No doubt the vampire was already seeing the advantages such an ally could bring him, but he spoke in a friendly tone that hid his more ambitious personality traits.
Bartol just knew him better than most.
Tormod relaxed a fraction in his seat. Since he was the odd one out among the nerou, his demon blood was a sensitive topic. No matter what he did—even if it might have been normal for a human teenager to do—all of his bad behavior was blamed on his lineage.
“Thank you,” Tormod replied, dipping his chin.
“Returning to the subject of the demon,” Bartol drew their attention back to him. “Were you able to retrace the demon’s steps after the fact? Such as where he stayed, what he did, whether he ate or not—any information could be useful to us.”
“In fact, I did.” The vampire took a folder from the coffee table next to him and opened it. “This is a list of places he visited.”
Bartol took a sheet of paper Eduard handed him. The demon had rented a hotel room, eaten at restaurants, and even visited a bookstore. There was also a set of coordinates.
“What’s this?” Bartol asked, pointing at the paper.
Eduard leaned closer. “Once we had a scent we could use, I had one of the local werewolves track the demon’s movements. We discovered our visitor’s scent was strongest in the woods not far from town. We believe he might have worked his magic there so as to not draw attention to himself, though we didn’t find much of anything disturbed.”
Bartol passed the paper over to Caius. “Did the victims have anything in common?”
“They attended the same church.”
“Is that what made you first look into the matter?”
“It was, along with the way the flu sickened people,” Eduard said. “The priest was the first to die at the end of a Sunday service. He’d only had a slight sniffle at the start, according to witnesses, but by the time he finished his sermon, he was convulsing and foaming at the mouth—with black lips. Eleven more parishioners who were present that day became sick shortly after arriving home and died in a similar manner. But that wasn’t what was most odd.”
“What do you mean?”
The vampire got up and headed for the bar to refill his drink. “This flu didn’t spread any farther and only affected a dozen people. It also had a one-hundred percent kill rate. That sim
ply isn’t the way human diseases work to be so specific like that, especially since there were others in the congregation that day who did not fall ill. Also, the medical examiners were baffled by the unusual strain. It was the flu, but corrupted in a way they’d never seen before.”
“Did it target any particular age group?” Caius asked, handing the list of the demon’s movements over to Tormod.
“None. The youngest was five, and the oldest was seventy.”
They asked a few more questions before thanking the vampire for his help.
“Let me know if there is anything more I can do.” Eduard led them out of the office. “I have heard from sources beyond my territory that the demon troubles are growing worse as he moves along and could become catastrophic if he’s not stopped.”
Bartol halted in the foyer and turned. “If we need anything, we’ll let you know.”
Tormod cleared his throat, shifting from foot to foot with his hands stuffed in his jeans pockets. “Is it alright if I stay here for a little longer?”
The poor boy had no experience with this sort of situation, and it showed in his bashful expression. Just a mere century ago, Bartol would have stayed to show him the ropes, but those days were long past. Not only because sexual pleasure was difficult for him now, but because the only woman who could please him anymore was a continent away. He didn’t expect anyone else to live like a monk, though, and he knew if anyone could make certain the nerou had a good first experience, it would be Eduard. The vampire would do anything to gain a new potentially powerful ally, and he wouldn’t dream of hurting the young man.
“Go ahead, but try not to stay out too late and take care coming back to the hotel,” Bartol said.
Tormod nodded his head vigorously. “I will.”
“And make certain you give as good as you get,” Caius added with a twinkle in his eyes.
Eduard patted the nerou on the back. “I’ll see that he’s taken care of and returned safely to you before dawn.”
Bartol chuckled inwardly. The young man was about to have the experience of his life.
Chapter 13
Bartol
Bartol glanced at Tormod. The young man had been unusually quiet all day as they made their rounds through the city, surveying places in Lepel the demon had visited. He was doing his best to hide his emotions, but every once in a while his violet eyes lit up in secret pleasure. Bartol and Caius had agreed to give the nerou hybrid some space until he chose to tell them how his time at the brothel went. Apparently, though, he wasn’t going to mention the matter on his own. He’d had hours, and it was already past noon.
Bartol caught a slight smile form on Tormod’s lips as they made their way through the woods toward their last stop for the day. If Eduard was correct, they might find evidence of the demon’s activity that could provide clues to his methods and intentions. As of yet, they’d found no traces of him left behind at the other locations—unless one counted the victims from the church.
“You appear pleased with yourself,” Caius said, breaking the silence.
The nerou shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“How did it go last night?” Bartol asked, unable to curb his own curiosity anymore.
He remembered the first time he’d been with a woman. She’d been a village girl who had appeared sweet and innocent, except she hid a naughty side that a few local young men were allowed to enjoy. It was awkward in the beginning, but Bartol soon got the hang of giving and receiving pleasure. Before long, they were meeting nearly every night. Then his strict grandfather found out about their activities and insisted he stay away from the girl. Though he hadn’t been in love, that was the first time he’d wanted to rebel against the man who’d raised him since his mother passed away when he was a child. It wasn’t long after that—when he was barely sixteen—that he’d left to strike out on his own.
Tormod cleared his throat. “Eduard gave me three women.”
“Three?”
“Yeah.” A blush ran up the nerou’s neck. “But not at the same time. They took turns…teaching me things.”
Caius chuckled. “That explains why you didn’t return until near dawn.”
Tormod gave him an accusing look. “You were listening for me?”
“We both were.” Bartol stepped over a fallen log. “We needed to know you returned safely.”
“Eduard drove me back to the hotel himself.”
Neither he nor Caius dared to mention that they’d returned to the brothel the previous evening to pay the vampire handsomely to take extra good care of Tormod. The point was to ensure the nerou had a good time on his first outing alone and with a woman…or rather, women.
“Do you feel any different?” Caius asked.
Tormod stuffed his hands in his pockets, and a sour expression formed across his face. “Can we please not talk about it?”
Bartol couldn’t blame the young man for feeling awkward. Perhaps he preferred not to kiss and tell, which would be a good trait to have. “Of course.”
A few minutes later, they came across a break in the trees where they’d been told the demon had performed some sort of ritual. To the average person, little would have appeared out of the ordinary, but to those with angel blood, the scene struck them as malevolent. The scent of sulfur filled Bartol’s nose, weak but still distinct despite weeks having passed to diminish it. He also noted the abundance of blackened leaves covering the small area and tree bark along the outer perimeter darkened with dried blood. A spell had been cast over the place to hide these details, though he couldn’t imagine why. Surely the demon wouldn’t care if humans saw the signs.
Then something else caught Bartol’s eyes. There was an unusual symbol in the middle of the clearing, about four feet by four feet in size and colored silver. It wasn’t a pentagram, but rather a variation of it with more lines inside the circle to form a rather complex star. There were also five smaller symbols outside of it, four for the elements and one for the demon himself. His sign was that of a big bull with wings like that of a griffin.
“Haagenti,” Bartol said and cursed under his breath.
Caius’ expression hardened. “He is one of the most powerful demons in existence.”
Tormod’s brows furrowed. “The guardians taught us something about him while we were in Purgatory. They said he was on Earth before—a long time ago—and that it took three archangels to banish him to Hell. Why didn’t they just kill him?”
“It’s never that simple with the strong ones,” Bartol replied.
“But could it be done?”
He looked away, remembering his last battle with a demon that only possessed half of Haagenti’s power. “Possibly.”
“In fact, there was that one time…” Caius began, looking intensely at Bartol.
“That was a fluke.”
“But you know it’s the real reason you’re here, doing this. Because you have the…”
Bartol wasn’t going to be drawn into that conversation. “The archangels will handle it once we track the demon down.”
Caius sighed and shook his head.
Tormod glanced between them. “What are you two talking about?”
“Nothing you need to know about,” Bartol barked, then spun on his heels. “We’ve seen all we need to see here. Let’s go.”
The other two men followed behind him reluctantly. He could sense their gazes burning into his back, but he would not acknowledge the event from long ago—one that cost the lives of many and nearly his own.
“So what’s next?” Tormod asked as they broke through the woods.
They could have flashed anywhere they needed to go around town, but their powers had to be conserved for long distance travel and emergencies in case they ran into the demon or his minions. Even flashing short distances could cost them if they ran into trouble. Thankfully, Eduard had loaned them a car, which they’d left parked along the side of the road.
Caius was doing all the driving since Bartol still needed to learn h
ow to operate a modern vehicle. There were so many more buttons and switches and functions than the ones he remembered from a century ago. Tormod couldn’t get behind the driver’s wheel either since he hadn’t started training for that yet.
“We will return the car, and then the two of you will go on to Ukraine,” Bartol replied, tone brooking no argument.
The capital city, Kiev, was the next known city that the demon had stopped at, and the place where a deeply religious Jewish man had been compelled to murder twenty-one of his near and extended family members. So far in all the cases they’d learned, there was always a religious tie of some sort. Likely, it gave the demon some sort of extra boost in strength if he used people or symbols of faith.
“If we’re going there,” Tormod began, giving a worried glance to Caius, “where are you going?”
Bartol stopped at the front passenger side of the car. “With a demon of this caliber, we must intensify our search if we hope to stop him before he gets too strong. I will go on to Bucharest and see what I can find there—you two can meet me when you’re done.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Caius asked, giving Bartol a skeptical look.
“I’ll be fine.”
He wanted to be on his own for a while. The quest for a demon—and especially one this powerful—was dredging up old memories he’d hoped to never think of again. The last thing Bartol needed was the other two noticing how disturbed he was becoming. He’d collect himself and then be ready to face his comrades once more.
Caius’ expression turned resigned. “We shouldn’t need more than a day or so but call if you need us.”
“I will,” Bartol agreed.
Chapter 14
Bartol
Bucharest was a vibrant city filled with both the old and the new. Though Bartol needed to get on with his mission, he let himself wander the streets for a couple of hours to clear his head. He desperately needed to put away distant memories of the past. There was a reason he’d forsaken being a warrior to become a lover, except now neither of those descriptions fit him. What sort of person did he hope to become next, and how would his relationship with Cori affect that?