Curse of Cain (Immortal Mercenary Book 2)

by Conner Kressley

  “Why not?” Andy asked.

  “You don’t have to have the Wisdom to wield the ring. He was constantly being attacked, and it was only a matter of time before one of the people willing to kill for the ring actually made off with it. So he came to me, he revealed himself as alive, and he asked for my help to destroy it.” I shook my head. “But, like I said, things forged by the Big Guy are extremely hard to destroy. We settled for hiding it, which I did. Then, to ensure no one would ever find it, we shrouded it with the strongest magic I could find, and he ripped the memories of where I put the ring, as well as the fact that he’d ever come to me, out of my head and destroyed them. Since he had no idea where the ring was hidden, it seemed like a full proof plan.”

  “And what about the book?” Merry asked. “What about the word in it?”

  “it was a failsafe,” I answered. “The word—which is just Solomon jumbled up, by the way—pulled the magical shrouding from the ring. It won’t tell us where it is, but it’ll make it possible for us to track it.”

  “Why would you even need to track it?” Clint asked. “Why can’t the smartass just give you those memories back too?”

  “He never gave me any memories back, Clint. What I’m seeing, I saw from his point of view. He’s projecting into my head.”

  “Then I’ll ask you again, how do you even know it’s him?” Andy asked, standing up and punching the table.

  “And I’ll tell you again because it makes sense,” I said. “It answers the questions, and it’s the best lead we’ve got right now.” I waited a beat. “And, not for nothing, but it’s the same reason I’d know you in a thousand years if you showed up out of nowhere, you jackass. He’s family.”

  Andy blinked and turned away from me.

  “It doesn’t mean I trust him,” I repeated. “A thousand years is a long time. He could be anyone at this point, anyone at all. But I have to try. I have to get to the bottom of this.”

  “Why?” Merry asked, also standing.

  “Because he’s my-”

  “No,” she cut me off. “Believe me, I get that. What I want to know is—if he went through so much trouble to hide the ring in a place where it would never be found—why does he want it now?”

  “That’s what I’m going to find out,” I said. “I do know one thing though. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.” I stood, looking over my little group as I weighed my options. “I need to run,” I said calmly, looking over at Andy. “Hold down the fort for me?”

  “You need to run?” he asked, narrowing his brows. “Your foster kid with divine wisdom and questionable intentions is in the next room over, and you want to go out for coffee?”

  “Not coffee,” I answered. “Not coffee at all. I need to get something that’ll help us out, something that’ll force our guest to play nice.”

  “And what about before then?” Andy asked looking up at me. “What if he doesn’t feel like playing nice until you get back?”

  “He will,” I said. “He went through all this trouble just to get me on board with a plan. He’s not going to back out of it now. Like you said, he’s too smart for that.” I shrugged. “And, if he does, shoot him in the head. Even Solomon himself wasn’t smart enough to dodge more than a couple of bullets at once.”

  I said it routinely, as though the idea didn’t squeeze at my chest. In truth, I didn’t want Andy hurting Garreth, not before I got the the bottom of what was going on here. More than that though, I didn’t want Garreth hurting Andy or any of the rest of them. And, if it came down to it, I’d choose my new family over my old one, if only because Garreth had already lived more than his fair share of years.

  “It won’t come to that though,” I said, nodding firmly. “I’d bet dollars to doughnuts, he knows exactly where I’m going and why.” I shook my head. “That Wisdom can be damn annoying.”

  20

  I strolled through the cobblestone roads that led down River Street and kissed the flowing waters of the Savannah. I smelled the sweet sugary scents of pralines and fresh made taffy in the air and listened as some of the most talented saxophone and guitar players in the world displayed their talents in exchange for the coin of tourists enjoying a Southern fried night in what had quickly become my favorite city on a planet full of amazing places.

  On a different night, this could have been a good time. Maybe I’d have even taken a woman out on a stroll. It would hardly be the first time a lady had succumb to my charms under a harvest moon with the backdrop of this very river soothing her into a much more pleasant state.

  It wasn’t a different night though, and the lady I was going to see right now wasn’t exactly expecting me and, if she had been, she probably wouldn’t be happy about it.

  I knew her though. I had known her for the better part of a hundred or so years; right along the time I started seeing visions of my brother. And that meant I knew where and how to find her.

  Lucky for me, Savannah was booming tonight, full of people who were full of blood and—when you’re on the hunt for a vampire—that comes in handy.

  I moved toward the saxophone player and dropped a hundred into his case. He stopped playing instantly and looked up at me, obviously not accustomed to this sort of cash coming all at once.

  “You know At Last? That old Etta James song?”

  “Who doesn’t?” he asked, smiling at me and looking down at the cash.

  “Good,” I said. “I want you to play it until I tell you to stop.” I tossed another twenty on the pile for good measure. “We good?”

  “We are excellent, my man,” he answered and started playing a sweet rendition of a song that meant a lot to a lot of people…including a dark haired vampire girl who had been more than a little bit of trouble on more than a few occasions.

  It took all of ten minutes for me to catch sight of her. Aria sauntered toward the saxophone player, dressed in a very contemporary looking black cardigan, knee-high black boots and faded jeans. She was a woman of her times…all of them.

  “I kind of miss you in flapper dresses,” I said, settling next to her, my eyes planted on the still playing man. I was speaking softly and right into the line of the music. No one without enhanced hearing would be able to pick up on it. Fortunately, she had that in spades.

  “I don’t,” she admitted instantly, her voice a bit louder to compensate for my less than supernaturally perky ears. “Those things were a bitch to get into and out of.”

  “I remember,” I said, smiling and remembering a night back in the forties before things went sour between the two of us. As it was, I hadn’t spoken to her in over seven years, which wasn’t even close to a long time for either of us. Still, I had heard she was in town and, given my specific set of needs, I was going to use that fact as well as our previous relationship.

  “A bit differently than I do, I’m sure,” she said, and finally turned to me. “Unless you remember it as a monumental letdown too.”

  She smiled at me, and I smiled right back. “A monumental letdown that happened six times that night and three more in the weeks that followed.”

  “Oh,” she said, her eyes sparkling with the sort of recognition that only comes with the uncovering of a long dusty memory. “That’s right.” She shrugged. “I guess my initial recollection was a little rusty after all.” She ran a hand through her dark hair and bit at her pale (almost purple) bottom lip. “Why’d we ever stop doing that?”

  “Off the top of my head?” I asked, stuffing my hands into my pockets. “Because you slit my throat in my sleep and stole three priceless artifacts from me.” I moved closer, running a hand through her hair as well and leaning in. “And frankly, because you were starting to bore me.”

  “Impossible,” she purred, pulling away. “Not the slitting your throat part, of course. I’m just surprised I didn’t do that sooner.”

  “You stole something from me,” I said, grabbing her hand.

  “Oh Chester,” she said, using a name I’d worn in the forties. “Please tell m
e I wasn’t your first. I mean, I know your family was religious, but this is ridiculous.”

  “Please. You were drinking the blood of rabbits in the woods when I found you Aria. It was pretty pathetic, and the name’s Callum now.”

  “What is it with you and ‘C’ names? Live a little.” She ran her free hand up my arm and let it rest on my shoulder. The feel of her was familiar in a way I wasn’t sure I was very comfortable with. It had been decades, she was a crazy bitch, and I was kinda into someone else. So I ignored her question as well as her roaming hand.

  “You stole an amulet from me. A red triangular stone set in a golden chain.”

  “Sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell,” she cooed.

  “It was worth ten million dollars, belonged to Caligula, and rendered those who wore it unable to harm its owner.” I squeezed her hand. “Does that help.”

  “Oh yeah,” she grinned. “That got me out a tight spot in 1957…in Germany…where I lost it.”

  “That’s unfortunate,” I said, my jaw clenching. “Because I’m going to need something to mimic its effects and, since you’re the reason I don’t have it anymore, I guess you’re going to have to give it to me.”

  She looked at me again and, as she realized just what it was I was asking for, her eyes grew wide with shock and anger.

  “You wouldn’t dare!” she hissed.

  “Of, I would,” I said. “I promise you, I’ve done worse.”

  In a flash, she reared back and threw a punch in my direction. I grabbed her free hand, and pushed it away from me, though her strength was impressive. Someone had been working out since the days of Glee and Breaking Bad.

  With my free hand, I pulled out my blade, though I didn’t intend to use it right yet. This was a crowded street and, though this woman was a monster who would very likely kill at least three people if I didn’t stop her, those on the outside looking in would have just seen me attacking a female. I couldn’t have that.

  Luckily, the marking on the blade did enough of the trick. Aria recognized it or them or some combination of the two. She panicked, of course. She didn’t want me taking the one thing from her which might take the place of the amulet she’d stolen all those years ago.

  So, in her panic, she did what vampires do. She lunged forward and sunk her teeth into my neck.

  I felt the sting of her bite and the intrusion of her fangs as she sucked enough of my blood to knock me down.

  I fell to the ground, still managing to keep a grasp on my blade.

  Aria looked down at me, perhaps trying to decide how she wanted to proceed. In the end, she did what I thought she would and darted off into the night, leaving me bleeding on the sidewalk in front of a now perplexed and terrified saxophone player.

  It didn’t matter though. This was exactly what I wanted, and now I had it.

  “Oh…oh my God…” the saxophone player said, looking down at me.

  “Hey,” I answered, glaring back up with my hand pressed against my free flowing neck. “Do you know any Springsteen?”

  21

  I stumbled back into Merry’s apartment, woozy and half delirious from blood loss.

  “Jesus Christ!” Merry shouted, running toward me as she caught sight of my neck. “Andy, get the first aid kit!” she shouted as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder and guided me toward the couch. “What did you do to yourself?”

  “I told you,” I said weakly. “I had to go get something.”

  “A gaping neck wound?” she asked as Andy rushed back into the room with a small white kit in his hands. “I think I’d have gone without if I were you.”

  “It’s more complicated than that,” I answered as she pulled the kit from Andy and opening it with nervous hands.

  “The hell it is!” she hissed. “You run out on us when we need you, and you go and get yourself hurt!” she glared up at me, her eyes holding more than a little resentment as she pulled out a huge strip of gauze. “You should know better than that!”

  She had slipped into ‘mom’ mode, scolding me even as she prepared to bandage me up.

  “How did you even get back here?” Andy asked. “You look like warmed over death.” He shook his head. “I should have known when the scanners picked up word of a bleeding lunatic walking out of downtown that it was you.”

  Merry took a deep breath before shakily moving her hands toward mine, attempting to remove it from the wound on my neck.

  “Maybe don’t do that,” Haircut said through a mouthful of fluorescent orange cheese puffs.

  Oh, that’s right. We had a doctor now.

  He dropped the bag and ran toward me, rubbing the excess processed cheese dust from his hands.

  “Before I waste my energy, I’m guessing that going to the hospital is out of the question.”

  “He doesn’t need a hospital,” another voice sounded from the far side of the room. “I can fix him.”

  My eyes froze on Garreth, who stared at me without any emotion in his eyes whatsoever.

  “Get back in the room, Garreth,” I said, my hand still blotting some of the blood from seeping from my body.

  “This is redundant, Father. We both know what you’re doing. Just let me help you.”

  “Back in the room or Andy shoots you in the head,” I said as sternly as I could give how close I was to being rendered unconscious.

  “I told you, Father. People like your nephew are unable to take human life. Even one as augmented as my own.” Garreth looked at Andy. “You and Father have much in common. Both of you have gone through things you have no memory of.” He shook his head. “Perhaps, in your case, that is for the best.”

  “I have the Irishman, Garreth,” I said, trying again to stifle his open faucet of a mouth. “Don’t you think he’ll be enough to neutralize whatever the hell it is you’re talking about?”

  “Perhaps,” he answered. “Though, at this point, his blood is so diluted that the energy is barely there. I’d be surprised if he could swing winning a game of horseshoes.” He looked from Haircut back to me. “Still, I suppose you could give it a shot. If it is enough to swings the odds in your favor, then I’ll be dead.” He sighed loudly. “Your actions thus far though, as well as the way in which your body and face is contorted tell me that my death is not what you want.” He nodded firmly. “Which is touching, Father. Truly.”

  “Am I the only one who has no idea what’s going on here?” Haircut asked, scratching his head.

  “Allow me to clarify it for you, Dr.,” Garreth started. “Your family comes from an ancient bloodline of Irish High Kings known as the Children of Danu. They had many abilities while their blood remained pure but, now that your kind has mixed their fluids with baseline humans, those abilities are all but gone. All that remains is a usually dormant form of passive reality manipulation. Have you ever failed a test? Have you ever not gotten a job you’ve gone for? Have you ever so much as struck out at a baseball game?” Garreth didn’t wait for an answer. “I didn’t think so. It is not because you’re good, Dr. It’s not because you’re smart or talented. It’s because you’re lucky. It is in your blood. I have the Wisdom of Solomon and you—for lack of a better phrase—have the Luck of the Irish.” He rolled his eyes. “That sounded stupider than I imagined it would coming out of my mouth.”

  “Then why not stop it?” I said, still clutching my neck.

  “Because your team is a cluster of secrets and, if the wolf didn’t show you the danger of keeping secrets with what happened to him—then maybe my words of wisdom might. These secrets will tear you apart. It’s only a matter of time. I can’t allow that. You’re no good to me fractured. I need you strong.”

  Andy stepped in front of me, huffing as he pointed the gun so close to Garreth’s forehead that there was no way he could reasonably miss. “My uncle said you need to get back in that room.”

  “Your uncle says a lot of things,” Garreth answered, not flinching at all. “Almost as much as he doesn’t say.” He cocked his head to the side. “Wh
en did you die anyway?”

  “Enough, Garreth!” I said. I tried to stand, but I couldn’t, falling back to the couch, dizzy and tired.

  “This is what I’m talking about Father,” he said, walking as close to me as he could with Andy’s gun on him. “I know what you’ve done.”

  “Of course you do!” I spit back. “You’re the smartest fucking person in the world.”

  “Well, I’m not,” Merry said. “Could someone please explain to me what’s happening?”

  “Father’s found a vampire,” he answered, looking down at me. “He’s coerced the poor thing into biting him. He or she.” He smirked at me. “More than likely a she, probably had no idea what biting my father would do to her.”

  “And what’s that?” I heard Andy asked, his gun still aimed.

  “it connects them,’ he answered. “usually, when a vampire drinks of a person, it binds them. But the binding only goes one way. But my father is cursed, which means that—right now—whoever bit him is finding that she’s bound to him sevenfold more than she ever imagined.” He sighed again. “And I’m guessing it goes both ways.”

  He was smart.

  “You plan on harboring that energy and using it to control me, correct?” Garreth asked, shaking his head. “You wish to channel the energy through the vampire and into me. She controls me, you control her. Therefor-”

  “I control everyone,” I confirmed. There was no reason to deny it. The bastard would see right through it.

  “It’s a good plan,” he responded. “Though you’ll need to hire a magic user to have on hand to actually do the spell.” His eyes moved from me to Merry and then to Amber. “But you have one, don’t you? You have a little gypsy girl who fits that bill just right.” He turned back to me. “But you’re forgetting three things. One, the girl’s mother is not going to like the idea of you using her daughter as a magical Band-Aid for your issues.” His eyes flickered to Merry. “Especially since it would connect her to this whole mess too. Number two, there are a plethora of reasons why teaching that particular girl to use her powers is a bad idea and three, you’ve lost too much blood. Even if you were able to stay conscious long enough to get this done, it would take hours if not days for you to be strong enough to move. We don’t have hours or days, Father. We barely have right now.”