. . the little worm had learned something after all. No matter. The larger goal was at hand.
Then without warning he flung a handful of teeth and bones into the center of the pentagram, along with a Viking helmet and a German war horn.
"Arise!" Sebastian commanded, making the wind howl and the barren trees quake.
"Awake and come to me, mad for conquest, lusting for battle, and I shall fulfill your desires for victory! Do my bidding and you will again war!" Fascinated, she could not conceal her excitement as the teeth and bones drew together, and then the helmet and war horn melted with them into the earth.
"It didn't work," she said smugly after a few minutes. Everything had gone still.
"I'm bored. I'm going back to—"
"Wait," Sebastian hissed, his black glowing eyes filled with anticipation. "All good spells take a setting time. Vlad cannot offer you this."
She didn't move when Sebastian's talon grazed her cheek. All she offered was a slight nod in response.
"And once I've raised them, let you see ... what is my reward?" He'd spoken to her in Dananu, but he was so eager that he didn't really need to say anything at all. She considered his small erection and the small beads of perspiration beginning to form on his pocked face. The fact that he was struggling to hold back the finale of his spell so he could bargain with her truly made her smile.
"I didn't come here for an evening parlor trick, Sebastian," Elizabeth coolly remarked.
He hissed and lunged at her, holding her throat in a threat. "Raising the dead of this magnitude and of this age is no easy feat!"
"All right," she murmured. "I'll grant you that. It is rather spectacular . . . but I was hoping you'd share them a little with me—maybe just a small retinue, since Vlad doesn't really believe in my ability to lead a small army."
"He is arrogant and pigheaded," Sebastian crooned. "Don't forget, we led some of his demon warriors together before he was reanimated."
"How could I forget," she murmured, stroking his fist in a very suggestive way. But he closed his grip tighter on her throat. "And how could I forget the very fact that it was you who double-crossed me and raised him?"
She swallowed hard, feeling his claws dig into her flesh and an icy current of blood begin to seep down her throat.
"You owe me," he said quietly, and then took her mouth. "Not the other way around."
"Yes," she whispered. "But if you would do this one thing, I will always align with you against Lucrezia and Nuit—to make up for my earlier offense, plus make this night worth your while—if you'll allow me control over a small dispatch of your Berserkers.. Deal?"
Sebastian licked the blood from her throat, trembling. "Deal." Fallon Nuit lifted his head from Lucrezia's throat and then rolled off her body, peeling himself away from her damp skin.
"What's the matter?" she said, slowly sitting up as he paced to the war-room table and placed both hands on it.
"Come, see for yourself. Apparently Elizabeth wasn't choosy about taking sloppy seconds." Fallon spread his hands out onto the gleaming black marble, watching images on it come alive as though he were staring at a flat-screen HDTV. Lucrezia came to him, wrapped in a crimson satin sheet, her gaze hardened to a glare as her arm threaded around his waist. Thousands of pelt-wearing, demon-riding avengers broke through the crust of the earth. Their massive bulk writhed with snakes and maggots, their faces mere flesh-rotted skulls that shrieked, each entity a nightmare unto itself with weapons raised. Chains and maces, black swords of death, animal-headed horses with bat wings and monkey tails took flight, spewing an unending launch of vile manifestation against the bright light of the moon.
"They have no class," Lucrezia said, rubbing Fallen's back.
"Eastern Europeans ... so baroque," he said, sniffing in disdain. "We, the French, have a style all our own. And those of us from the era of ladies and gentlemen that hail from the refined Creole families of Louisiana prefer politics and courtsmanship— versus brute force, which is very, very sloppy."
"I am glad that you were given Dante's old lair . . . which gives you access to seeing what is afoot and being plotted against you," she murmured, kissing his bare chest.
"A strategic advantage to be sure, darling . . . which is why I asked you to play along with me." Fallen kissed her slowly and deeply. "Your essence was a tracer. Thank you, darling. So now we know what they are up to ... and I just needed to keep them diverted while I went on my walkabout."
She chuckled softly, nipping his shoulder. "I don't know what you found there, but I like what Australia does to you."
"Shush," he whispered playfully. "Mustn't let the cat out of the bag that I made my little trek. However, in the meantime, when you call in your marker to reanimate your father ... I'll be working on another strategy. Let them have their fun and waste resources with the brutes he's raised. All that will do is piss Lilith off. I assure you, they won't find what they're looking for and it will not net results."
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dillowing clouds of smoke were behind them and an uncertain future lay ahead of them. Guardians collapsed on deck chairs, each taking their turn to console a completely freaked-out Monty while Berkfield took the helm.
"What 1 have just witnessed is beyond the capacity of human understanding!" he said, pacing and talking with his hands.
Carlos just looked up at him from where he sprawled on the padded furniture.
"You did good, man. You got us out of there in one piece." Yonnie pounded Carlos's fist and got up to sling an arm around Monty's shoulder. He smiled when Monty squeezed his eyes shut. "I know, I know the fangs . . . but now you see why me and my good brother, C, have 'em?"
"Y-yes, yes, I guess so," Monty stuttered. "Glad you're on our side." Team members swallowed smirks out of respect for the newest member of the team, but the thing that had been clawing at Damali's mind was back . . . then in slow motion she covered her mouth with her hand and turned away. Each team member's body tensed as their collective gazes bore into her back.
"Monk Lin," Damali whispered. "We lost him."
"Aw, man!" Carlos was on his feet. "How?"
She couldn't even look at him. "Friendly fire . . . local patrols didn't understand." That was all she would say in front of the group, especially in front of Monty. No one needed to be further demoralized, and having lost the last living member of the Covenant would have done just that.
"Kiss my ass!" Rider got to his feet and began to pace. "The man was a complete pacifist... I mean, how could that happen?" Rider raked his fingers through his hair. "I just don't get it."
Tara gave Damali a look and soon the other seers closed their eyes and turned away.
"What? What are we missing here, ladies?" Rider said, sounding indignant.
"There is a reason why during this period, you gentlemen are blind," Marlene said calmly, grounding the group. "The male and female energies are balancing as they should ... if Monk Lin was here, he would tell us that according to the Ayurveda science of life, the mahabhutas—the five master elements of space, air, fire, water, and earth—are realigning within each person and on the team as a whole to accommodate change. There are things that we seers can see now, being of the space-air dosha, that are easier for us to communicate calmly and with purpose." Marlene stood and walked as she talked, holding the group rapt.
"Space holds all the aspects of unlimited potentiality; air has the qualities of movement and change. These ladies have this dosha that is called in the tradition Vata, and they have infinite possibilities growing within them and are experiencing significant change. That would be Val, Tara, Jasmine, Krissy, and Juanita . . . although she's still a little fiery, that is mellowing."
Marlene looked around at the group. "We are also evenly divided between those of us, like Marj and I, and Damali, plus Inez and Heather, who carry the dosha of water-earth now, or Kapha energy. Water is cohesive and protective; earth is solid, grounded, and stable. It's not just about sun signs; that is a different
matter. I am talking about energy here."
"And you gentlemen at present are fire," Damali said calmly. "Fire is hot, direct, and transformational. Pitta energy. Right through now, if images of what was going on came to you guys directly, as ready for war as you are, you'd burn out your adrenals. Seriously. And, later, as we all get farther along, we're gonna need you in one piece. It just makes sense."
"Now that's deep," Big Mike said, nodding. " 'Cause it's been bothering me lately that I feel like I'm a step behind in getting gut hunches and information . . . you know what I'm saying?"
"Word." Jose nodded. "Usually the hair is standing up on my neck or—"
"I get a vibe," Shabazz cut in. "And those have been coming slower."
Dan rubbed the back of his neck. "I thought it was just me."
"Naw, man," J.L. said, pounding Dan's fist, and then Bobby's.
"Well, shit," Berkfield said, yelling out from the pilothouse. "Then now you guys know how I feel all the time. I'm always late to the party."
"You know what's so odd," Monty said, his gaze sweeping the team. "My wife used to get . . . impressions all the time. That's why I sank my life savings into this yacht. She specified everything on here—she was the one who insisted on the sleeping quarters being as they are, everything. And as she was dying,
I was going to sell it, but she begged me to keep it and to hold on to it." Monty stood and shook his head, walking off a bit to look over the rail. "She knew, or felt something miraculous would happen. She said, 'Monty, promise me you won't give up before the miracle happens.' I never knew what she meant." He turned around to face the group, eyes shimmering. "I felt cheated. I thought the yacht would give her something to hope for, something to cling to so she'd get better. When she didn't, I was so angry. But after what I witnessed today . . . never in a million years could anyone have ever told me I'd be a part of something so unfathomable."
"We're glad you didn't give up before the miracle, man," Carlos said, shaking his head. "We owe you, big time, because as you can see, without your escape hatch, we would have had our backs against the wall in Bermuda."
"It's mutual," Monty said. "If I had not come to know you, I would be trapped back there," he said, pointing to the island. "How long before those things slithered over the rails and into the water to swim ashore? I would have been caught unaware like all those poor people at the marina. I only pray that we created a barrier and none of them got past the docks. So, it is I who owes you."
"Naw, man, it's mutual," Yonnie said. "We got an old saying, 'Fair exchange is no robbery.' "
"Don't teach the man that," Carlos said, giving Yonnie a look.
"Why not?" Monty asked, seeming confused. "It makes sense." "Don't it just," Yonnie replied with a sly smile. "But listen to C-los; we don't use anything from the old empire, if we don't have to. Brings back memories."
"Old empire?" Monty's gaze went from one Guardian to the other.
"Hell," Shabazz said flatly. "These brothers died and came back, so they don't really like going there."
"Like a near death experience?" Monty hung on Shabazz's gaze, innocent, open, and absorbing everything.
"Naw, more like a real-death experience." Yonnie produced a toothpick in his mouth and gave Monty a wink.
"Okay," Damali said, throwing up her hands. "Convo for another day, another time. Let the man absorb this much first and maybe over a beer, later, you can get deep and esoteric, Yolando. For now, I don't want our ship captain having a heart attack."
"My bad, ma," Yonnie said, grinning. "You're right, ma. Okay, I'll chill."
"Thank you, Yolando," Carlos said, shaking his head. He stood and walked over to a five-gallon, sealed watercooler bottle and brought it back to set it on one of the glass and wrought-iron deck tables. "This right here, Monty, is salvation. Not only is it something we'll need if we're stranded out here indefinitely, but it's a weapon. So before I return you to the helm, with Berkfield and J.L. on your flank, I'ma need you to bless these. If we get in a tight, this is like C4. One brother can hurl this up while another blows it with ammo for maximum impact, and it'll fry anything it splatters without deep-frying you."
"I saw that with the ocean," Monty said, excited.
"Me and Mar are gonna fill you in on lots of little details like that," Shabazz said.
"But meanwhile, we're gonna have team members watching your six who need to also be learning how to navigate this sucker." Shabazz's hard gaze went around the seated group. "Everybody's gotta be able to fill in for everybody else. We don't know what we're facing out there or how deep this contagion goes."
"I hear you, 'Bazz," Dan said, leaning forward on his forearms and clasping his hands. "Like, if we happen to pull into a marina in Puerto Rico and we're low on supplies, but it's a ghost town at the docks—is it stealing to salvage from the gift shops? Seriously. This isn't like all systems are normal. . . isn't like we're ripping people off that could sell their merchandise and have kids to feed, blah, blah, blah. The systems are gone. The monetary system has collapsed."
"Dan's got a point," Juanita said, her gaze going from Jose to Carlos, and then to Damali. "When we were at the hotel, this mess hadn't reached that far inland. In fact, the manager was still functioning in some kinda crazy denial, like business was as usual. But I'd bet an hour into the morning, homeboy probably took off and went home to hole up with his family, if he had any sense."
"Dan does have a point, you all do," Damali admitted. "I was just trying to be on the safe side." She turned and looked at Carlos. "Look, I may have been overzealous, but I just didn't want anything we did to draw havoc our way."
"Hey," Carlos said. "I feel you. I ain't mad at you, boo. In fact, it was a good thing that we went on those ships and didn't just jack supplies from the hotel—because we wouldn't have realized how bad it is. They ain't showing zombies on the news. All they are talking about is rabid animals, that freaking dengue fever." "What?" Monty glanced around. "What the heck is dengue?" "Mosquitoes carry it," Jasmine said softly. "It's formally known as Dengue Hemorrhagic Fever Virus. In developing nations, roughly ten million people get it annually, and it gives you a high fever, aching muscles, vomiting, and only like 1 percent of the population dies from it... but this year it broke out in Rio de Janeiro first and then swept South America, Central America, Africa, India . . . my home in the Philippines, Indonesia—a hundred million people with a 75 percent kill rate." Monty sat down slowly.
"You know what I think is happening?" J.L. said, talking with his hands and then springing up out of his chair from tension like a jack-in-the-box. "I think that every plague that was already out there just got tougher. Period. And everybody who had been susceptible to the shadows from before is getting hit •with whatever part in their spirit the contagion lodged in."
"Oh, snap," Damali said, beginning to walk in a circle. "So, like, if the person had greed and avarice in them, they might become a feaster—one of those things that gets up and walks and eats flesh."
"Yep," J.L. said. "Or, if they were depressed or jealous, maybe they got the bubonic thing, or, I don't know, Ebola?"
"That's freakin' genius," Carlos said, "but I'ma tell you what it is."
"Preach," Yonnie said, going to a rail to lean on it and chew on a toothpick. "My boy knows Hell. Watch him deconstruct this shit. Mr. Chairman, you have the floor."
Carlos couldn't address Yonnie's theatrics and think at the same time. With his hands behind his back he closed his eyes and began a slow pace in front of the team.
"They mirrored the levels of Hell, topside. Well, I'll just be damned." Carlos stopped walking. "Anybody whose spirit was foul and was going to them anyway just manifested whatever level they were gonna bottom out on when they died. That's why some folks didn't catch jack. . . Monty ain't coughing, because he wasn't headed south. Some of those good folks on the ship that wound up as breakfast, yeah, they died, but they weren't contagious. That's why it's bullshit that this thing is spreading through the currency
. It might be if you ain't righteous in your soul but for anybody else, uh-uh. You can't catch it. You can't catch none of this mess. It's not about your physical immune system being strong: it's about your spiritual immune system being able to take the weight."
Yonnie pushed away from the rail and flung his toothpick down onto the deck with conviction. "Genius! That is some wicked smooth shit if ever I seen it! Damn!"
"Whoa," Damali said quietly, staring at Carlos. "That is pure brilliance." Her compliment made him stand a little taller but he fought not to show it. Carlos looked at Damali and then Yonnie before staring at the team. "I hope I'm wrong, but this is the fourth quarter for life as we know it."
"But what about the rats, the animals?" Inez said, unsure. She glanced around.
"They're innocent, like kids."
"Those were demon-possessed creatures," Damali said gently, going to her Guardian sister. "And all this time, through all the chaos, I never saw any kids turning."
"But on the news they're showing children bitten by rabid animals. Their little bodies can still get whatever normal diseases are floating around, and especially with dirty food and water supplies, they can be poisoned." Inez hugged herself as Damali's arms enfolded her.
"We're gonna go get your boo, that's why we're headed to Miami so we can get back into the States . . . just gotta go around the edge of the Triangle, girl. You keep her in your mind surrounded by white light—your momma, too." Inez nodded and swallowed hard.
"Yeah," Carlos said, running his fingers through his sweat-damp hair, "first wave of it got anybody infected by the shadows from before. They were your first to fall. Then, they ramped up the diseases, and I'd place even money on it that Lucrezia has an all-out poison campaign ... so -we do have to watch what we consume, water supplies, and things like that—because you can still die of regular shit like cholera, that's more prevalent now than ever before. That's what's making the kids and innocents sick who didn't go down on the first wave. Then they have the demon bats as street sweepers, literally attacking folks who are still standing because they have strong mental, physical, and spiritual constitutions . . . case in point, they threw everything they had at the moment at us."
L A Banks - [Vampire Huntres Legend 12] Page 12