by Barry Reese
Jenny snorted and quickly covered her mouth. “Sorry! Miss Everywhere. That’s too much! Just call me Jenny, okay?” She looked around at everyone and tried to adopt a solemn attitude, though it failed somewhat. Her humor seemed impossible to contain. “First off, Adolf Hitler isn’t dead. He escaped Berlin and went into hiding. But his health sucked major ass, and…” Jenny’s voice trailed off as she saw the shocked expressions of those around her. Trying to remember that people—especially women—weren’t quite so open in this era, she continued on, trying to keep her terms within polite reason. “Anyway, you guys know he’s been really into the occult stuff, so it’s no surprise that he ended up hooking up with Dracula, right?”
Will cleared his throat. “Wait. The Dracula? The one that Bram Stoker wrote about?”
“Pretty much. I mean, Stoker got some things wrong, but for the most part, he was right on the money.”
Max spoke up then, reminding Will that one of the members of the Claws team had been the inspiration for Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein.
When it was obvious that there were no more questions forthcoming, Jenny continued her spiel, winking at Bella as she did so. She liked Bella for some reason, and knew they’d be great friends in time. “Anyway, so Hitler and Dracula are going to use the Spear of Destiny—you know, the lance that was jabbed into Christ’s side when he hung on the cross? They’re going to use the Spear of Destiny to raise an army of the dead, and I’m supposed to help him stop them. I know I’m supposed to do that because I Googled myself and found a website called Where Have You Seen Jenny? Everywhere! I think that’s a great name for the site, since they all document places throughout the world and throughout history where I’ve been spotted. Kind of a like a conspiracy-oriented bunch of paparazzi.”
Silence followed these words, and it was finally Kirsten who spoke up. “You’re barking mad, aren’t you?”
Jenny blinked at her. “No. Not really. I mean, sometimes I know I come off as a bit odd, but mad? Not even a little.”
The Peregrine was watching her closely and he found himself agreeing with her. She wasn’t insane… but that didn’t necessarily mean she was a time traveler either. “So this… website?… It told you that you’d meet me in 1946 and that we’d fight Dracula and Hitler together?”
“Sure did. The article was posted by a Kayla Kaslov.” Jenny glanced over at Leonid, who gave a start. “Friend of yours? Future relative? Big fan?”
“I don’t know anyone named Kayla,” Leonid stammered, but he was stunned by Jenny’s words. He and Libby had both mentioned their fondness for the name Kayla.
“Future relative, then.” Jenny turned her eyes back to the Peregrine. “Before you ask—no, I don’t have any clue about more details. I know there’s a big fight in the Paris catacombs, though.”
Evelyn stirred now, her eyes growing wide. “I’ve heard of those… What in the world would Dracula and Hitler want with that place?”
“Actually, it makes perfect sense.” Zadak was tapping his chin now, and Bella grinned, recognizing that he was about to launch into one of his professorial spiels. “As the city of Paris grew, it became necessary to provide more space for the living. So in one of the greatest engineering feats in history, millions of dead Parisians were disinterred and moved into dank passageways beneath the City of Light. The skulls of the dead line the very walls, and according to many, it’s one of the most haunted places on Earth. If Dracula is really interested in raising the dead, it’s not a bad place to start. Besides, Hitler always had a soft spot for Paris. It was going to be given special concessions as part of the Germanic Empire in order to preserve aspects of its culture.”
“Probably the frustrated artist in him,” Bella muttered. When her brother glanced her way, she shrugged. “I’ve seen some of his work. Really amateurish.”
The Peregrine sighed and began pacing. “So… I should head to Paris?”
Jenny nodded eagerly and stood up. “I’ll come, too. I have to. There’s a picture of you and me standing in front of the Eiffel Tower.”
“I don’t think it should just be the two of us,” the Peregrine answered. “I’m not sure why, but I do believe you, so I’m willing to let you come along. But from what I know of both the Fuehrer and Dracula, it’s going to take everything I’ve got to stop them. Leonid, can you tag along?”
Kaslov’s face was cloudy with guilt. “I wish that I could, but I’m supposed to brief the president tomorrow about my research into alternatives to atomic energy. I could try to cancel…”
The Peregrine offered his old friend a smile. “No, I’d say the president takes precedence.”
“You know I’d be willing to take a few days off,” Will offered. He nodded towards Kirsten. “And I’m sure the Iron Maiden could lend a hand, too.”
“I appreciate it, but I’d like both of you to help Evelyn with the kids. I’ll call the Claws team and see how soon they’re going to be back. If they can make it in time, they can join Jenny and me in Paris.”
“And you can’t get rid of me,” Bella said, moving forward. “I want to help.”
The Peregrine studied her for a moment, still not sure how far he could trust this girl. When he finally made his decision, he prepared himself for what he figured was an inevitable disagreement. “You want to help me? Fine. You and your brother find out everything there is to know about the Spear of Destiny. I know all the basics, but I want specifics. What tainted it? Is it connected to the Knives of Elohim? All of them were soaked in the blood of Christ.”
To his surprise, Bella nodded in agreement. “Will do. I have contacts that Zadak doesn’t, and he’s the best researcher around. Between the two of us, we’ll find out exactly what you need to know.”
“You’re okay with that?” Max asked, unable to resist pushing the matter. “I thought for sure you’d insist on coming along.”
“I’d like to,” Bella admitted with a shrug of her shoulders. “But I’m fine with this. Besides, I’m a magnet for trouble. No matter what I do now, I’ll end up on the frontlines eventually.”
The Peregrine accepted her words. He could sympathize, since that was how his own life usually went. “Okay, then. Evelyn, Will, and Kirsten will remain in Atlanta. I’ll ask the Claws to meet me in Paris, where I’ll be waiting with Jenny. Zadak and Belladonna will find out all there is to know about the Spear of Destiny. Leonid will go on to handle his private business, but I’m sure he’ll remain on call in case of an emergency. Anything else?”
Jenny Everywhere watched him with an awestruck expression. She’d read lots about the Peregrine and knew that, in most worlds, he actually managed to remain active and vital into the twenty-first century—and in some realities, even farther beyond that. He had a reputation for getting things done and for being a born leader, and both traits were on full display at the moment.
The Peregrine nodded as his friends began to disperse. Kaslov moved to his side, lowering his voice. “Are you sure about this, Max?” the Russian asked.
“Positive.” Max made sure that no one was listening in to them and continued, “I need someone on the outside as an ace in the hole. Keep your line open and I’ll let you know when or if I need you to step in.”
Kaslov gave the briefest of nods and headed to the door. Max had asked him earlier to claim he was unavailable for the mission, and he thought he understood why: despite the fact that Aldritch, Belladonna, and Jenny all seemed to be on the same page with Max, the truth was that any one of them could be playing them all for fools. Kaslov was going to keep an eye on the Aldritch siblings while remaining available for the Peregrine to call upon in Paris.
Jenny surprised Max by taking his arm. “Let’s go and kick some vampire Nazi ass!” she said with a charming giggle.
Max smiled. “Won’t be the first time for me… but it’s always fun to do.”
CHAPTER XIII
Unsheathing the Claws
Sally Pence felt like her heart was about to explode. She was lying on h
er side, blood pouring from a wound in her left shoulder. Poison was quickly spreading through her body, and the knowledge that she had literally only minutes left to live was weighing heavily upon her. Her dark uniform, so much like that worn by her father and his father before him, was stained with blood and dirt. Her domino-style mask lay discarded nearby as she crouched beneath a heavy oak desk.
In her guise as Revenant, she had led her Claws team to the home of Reginald Bell, a wealthy film producer who had become involved in a growing white slavery ring. Bell was plucking up young beauties with lies of stardom, drugging them, raping them, and then shipping them off to the Middle East, where lustful sheiks were paying top dollar.
Unfortunately, Bell was a remarkably dangerous fellow. His security force had managed to delay the Claws team long enough for Bell to head towards the roof of his mountain home, where a helicopter lay in wait. While Vincent, Nathaniel, and Rachel dealt with the guards, Sally had taken off in pursuit of Bell. Unfortunately, he’d managed to stab her with a poisoned blade in the study of his house. Now she lay on the floor, slowly dying while he crept around the room, looking to finish her off.
It was a shame, she thought, that Bell was so damned handsome. A man with his rugged good looks, gray colored eyes, and athletic build could have made some woman very happy.
“Where are you, bitch?” Bell hissed, his voice sounding dreadfully close to Sally’s hiding place. She fumbled for another cartridge, sliding it into her pistol. “If you give up now, I can slip you the antidote you’ll need. I bet you’ve got a nice figure under that jumpsuit of yours—fetch a real high price on the open market.”
Sally ignored the pain she was feeling and threw herself up to her feet. She brought her pistol up to face Bell and grinned coldly. “Well, with sweet talk like that, what girl wouldn’t rush into your arms?”
Bell froze in place, the knife he held in his right hand slowly lowering to hang near his thigh. “Put down the gun,” he said, more like a request than a command.
“I don’t think so. You’ve ruined a lot of lives, Mr. Bell. Not just of the girls you sold into slavery, but their families, too.”
“I can give you the antidote!”
Sally felt her vision beginning to blur. There had been no sounds of gunfire from outside for many minutes now—were the other Claws about to burst into the room? Or had something gone wrong, and they weren’t coming any time soon? How long did she have before she’d need one of Catalyst’s spells to pull her through?
Bell saw that Revenant was beginning to sway unsteadily, and he threw himself at her, knife held high for the killing stroke. Sally realized she was never going to avoid the attack, but she couldn’t bring herself to squeeze the trigger of her gun. At this range, she’d kill Bell with her shot, and if there was one thing her father had always insisted upon, it was that a real hero never killed.
Thankfully, Revenant was never alone these days.
The massive form of Vincent von Frankenstein slammed into Bell, catching him in midair and crushing the man’s ribs. Vincent was tall and powerful, his skin a pale gray that looked both unhealthy and frightening. His longish hair hung in loose strands around his skull, and his eyes, sunken pits that they were, fixed on Sally with concern. He knelt beside her as she collapsed, catching her in his arms.
Bell lay groaning on the side, suddenly having a difficult time breathing. He looked up to see the husband and wife team of Nathaniel and Rachel Caine looking down at him. The duo wore emerald-colored clothing that identified them to those in the occult world as the Catalyst and his chosen mate. The Catalyst was the High Mage of his century, and Rachel herself possessed mental abilities that made her name Esper seem very apt.
Rachel ran a hand through her fiery red mane and stared at Bell, who suddenly went rigid. “I’ve got him under telepathic control,” she said. “You look after Sally.”
Her husband nodded, moving to join Vincent and the now-unconscious Sally. The look on Frankenstein’s monster’s face was ample proof of how much he cared for Revenant.
“I’ll make her better,” Nathaniel promised, reaching out to touch her face. Muttering under his breath, he began to recite an ancient spell, one that cleansed the blood. It was a strange process for him, as he never memorized these eldritch words. They simply came to him as needed, as his mind tapped into an ancient reservoir of mystical knowledge that all Catalysts throughout history shared.
Within seconds, Sally’s clenched expression began to soften and her eyelids began to flutter. She came to with a soft gasp, her gaze fixing on Vincent’s face. The man was considered a monster by most, but there was a gentle nobility to him that Sally had come to know well.
“I’ve got you,” Vincent whispered.
Sally smiled softly and nodded. “Help me up, please.”
Nathaniel took one of her arms and assisted, though the big man could have easily done it by himself. “Rachel’s got Bell taken care of,” he informed Sally, who was agreed to be the team’s leader.
“Thanks. The bastard poisoned me.” She felt for her shoulder wound and was pleased to see that the bleeding had ceased. There was still a nasty hole, but Nathaniel’s spell had removed the worst of it.
Rachel approached the others, Bell stumbling along behind her with a vacant expression on his face. “All the guards downstairs are either out cold or unable to get away,” she said to Sally, watching her with concern. “Are you okay to fly the plane back to Atlanta, or should one of us give it a go?”
“I’ll be fine,” Revenant answered. When she’d first met Rachel, she’d disliked the woman intensely, mainly because she herself fancied Nathaniel and she felt jealous over his relationship with Rachel. But she’d gotten over that in time and now considered Rachel a friend.
A small chirping sound from one of the pouches on Sally’s belt made her jump in alarm. She smiled sheepishly at her friends and retrieved the small communications device that kept them all in contact with their founder, Max Davies. “We’re almost done here, Max. Do you need us?”
The Peregrine wasted no time in telling them the pertinent details: he’d learned that Adolf Hitler was still alive and in an alliance with no less than Count Dracula. Furthermore, he needed the entire Claws team to meet him in Paris to stop the deadly duo from unleashing a horrible plague upon humanity.
“We’ll head straight there, Max. I’ll call when we reach Paris.” Revenant ended the conversation and looked at her companions, who all appeared to be as weary as she was. “Looks like there’s no rest for the wicked.”
“You should go back to Atlanta,” Vincent warned, still holding on to her arm to help steady her. “Even after Nathaniel’s spell, you’re obviously weak.”
“I’ll be fine,” Sally responded, touched by his concern but also proud enough that she’d grow angry if he kept it up. “Let’s get out of here.”
“What about this piece of trash?” Rachel asked, looking at Bell with obvious disdain. She couldn’t imagine the horrors all the girls he’d sold into slavery had been forced to endure.
Sally seemed equally as disgusted. “Take every scrap of information from his head that you can about the slavery business. Contacts, addresses, girls he sold—and then give him one hell of a guilt trip. Then we’ll turn him over to the authorities.”
Rachel smiled. “Oh, he’s going to feel sorry. You can rest easy about that.”
* * *
As the team’s experimental aircraft soared through the sky, headed towards Paris, Nathaniel Caine sat quietly in the rear of the plane, his eyes fixed on the clouds outside his window. He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed his wife sliding into a seat next to his.
“I don’t need to be a telepath to tell that you’re upset about something.”
Nathaniel blinked in surprise. He reached over and took his wife’s hand in his. “I just can’t believe Hitler’s still alive.”
“Well, he’s not. He’s dead and back as a vampire.”
“You kno
w what I mean,” Catalyst said testily. “All those people who died because of him and he’s still out there—and now he’s immortal!”
“This just means we have the chance to bring him to justice. If he’d really died back in Berlin, we’d have been cheated of that.” Rachel squeezed her husband’s hand. “I’m glad he’s still out there, Nat. Just for that reason. I want to kick his teeth in.”
Nathaniel laughed. “I wonder how he’ll do as a vampire anyway. I’d heard he’d had major dental work done. Do your teeth grow back when you become a vampire?”
“Doesn’t matter if they’re real or fake. I’m kicking them in.” Rachel kissed Nathaniel and then put her head on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay,” she said soothingly and she felt Nathaniel move his arm around her shoulders.
They stayed like that for the rest of the trip.
CHAPTER XIV
The Souls of the Damned
Amongst the piled bodies of the dead, Adolf Hitler paced back and forth like a caged lion, while Dracula sat nearby, his eyes fixed on the Spear of Destiny that lay across his lap. They had come here, to Paris, and taken refuge in the underground city of the dead, though Dracula had refused to discuss his plans fully with the Fuehrer.
“We should strike at our enemies,” Hitler was saying. “Before they find out about our alliance. I have seen too many of my plans foiled—I know that we must act with haste.”
Dracula looked up at his compatriot, thinking about hurling the Spear so that it would impale the German. Hitler was grating on his nerves, and he was beginning to think that he no longer needed the strutting fool. “We will strike when I say we shall strike.”
Hitler paused and stared at the Spear. “When I was eighteen years old, I saw that lance in Vienna. I heard a voice in my head say that I would someday hold it in my hands. I knew then that I had a mission in this world, and that nothing would stand in my way.”