Inferno

by Bianca D'Arc

  As Dante approached the yacht, he noticed ripples in the water. For a brief second, he thought he saw one of the selkies, but he couldn’t be sure. He took it as a good sign anyway, taking the water shifters at their word that they would guard the depths. Dante moved steadily forward, watching the luxury boat with alert attention.

  In the shadows toward the back of the deck, he sensed movement. A moment later, a wall of energy rose in front of him on the dock, sparking and sputtering with painful electrical jolts as it advanced toward him. Dante stopped in his tracks, seeking a way around it. There was only a thin wooden walkway leading to the yacht.

  There was water all around, of course. With the selkies protecting the depths, Dante could make use of that. He’d bet the mage was counting on it. The wall of energy was most likely being used to herd him into—or perhaps above—the water.

  But the mage didn’t know about the selkies—their ace in the hole.

  Dante shifted form to that of a giant, gray owl. Owls had special adaptations for stealth and could fly almost silently, unlike other raptors. Flapping massive wings over the water, he tried desperately to gain altitude in case something got by the seals. He needn’t have worried. Nothing sprang out of the murky water to ensnare him as he rose into the dark night. Instead, he heard the distant bark of a seal amidst the muttering curses of the man who now stood openly on the deck of the yacht.

  From his vantage point above, Dante saw Duncan move into position at the same time the mage raised his hands, aiming directly for Dante. Pouring on the speed, Dante called on the instincts of the owl, hoping like hell that Duncan could neutralize the mage before he blasted Dante out of the sky.

  A dark stream of sparkling, malevolent energy burst from the deck of the yacht toward Dante. He dove and swooped as best he could but still managed to get his feathers singed. Duncan, however, wasn’t idle. He launched a counterattack on the mage, and the stream of deadly energy ceased. The mage turned his attack on Duncan instead. His power merely sparked harmlessly off Duncan’s black armor.

  Duncan was in his element, fighting the fight he was best equipped to handle. Magic against magic. Dark against light. Evil could not stand in the face of Duncan’s goodness.

  The massive amounts of magical power being thrown caused the lights of the marina to dim. Then, one by one, the light bulbs began to pop, raining shards of glass and sparks everywhere as the fight escalated.

  Since it was the middle of the night, the marina was mostly deserted. Only one or two brave souls popped out to try to see what was causing the disturbance. No one looked in the direction of the yacht. Such was the magic of Duncan’s calling. It protected the innocent even as it smote the guilty.

  Dante made wide circles, looking for his opening. He could help Duncan end this quickly. All it took was one moment of inattention on the mage’s part.

  There!

  Dante stooped and dove, aiming his three-inch talons at the last second. He went for the man’s throat. Too late, the mage realized the danger. Dante had him in his clutches and tore through skin and tissue, ripping the man’s throat out as he took once more to the air.

  The mage clutched at the wound that would kill him. He had little time left. There was no way he could recover from such damage, but until he was dead, he could still hurl his vile magics.

  Duncan moved closer, encasing the evil mage in a protective bubble of light his final acts of magic could not penetrate, and so he could not curse those who remained in this realm while he crossed over. His magics would fade with him, never to return.

  Dante had seen Duncan do this before, but it had been too many years to count. It was good to see that Duncan’s power had only increased with age. Dante flew to his old friend’s side, shifting as he alighted to stand beside Duncan. They watched the mage breathe his last on the deck of the yacht.

  Duncan held the shield in place until he was certain no further harm could be done by the mage. He then released his magic with a weary sigh.

  “That should do it.”

  “Glad I am to hear it. That one was as foul a being as I have ever run across.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me on that score,” Duncan agreed.

  “I must check on Megan.”

  “Your lady is well and on her way to you,” a man’s voice said from below.

  Dante looked down to see one of the seal shifters in human form, bobbing in the water. He knelt to speak with him.

  “Thank you for your help. If you should ever need anything of me, please do not hesitate to ask. I definitely owe you for your assistance here tonight.”

  “We’ll remember that,” the man eyed him shrewdly. “I think, after what we just saw, that you and your friend are on the side of light. We are sworn to that cause and glad to help eliminate such nasty pieces of work as the one on the wooden whale.”

  Dante chuckled at the man’s nickname for the ostentatious luxury yacht. “Be that as it may, I consider myself in your debt and would welcome the chance to further our acquaintance.”

  The man tilted his head. “We’ll see. So far, you have us intrigued, I’ll grant you that, but further contact will have to be decided upon. Most likely, we’ll be in touch. If not for you, then for your friend, the knight.”

  Duncan bowed to the man in the water. “I am at your disposal whenever you wish to talk. There are things I believe your people should be made aware of.”

  The man nodded. “It’s good to see the likes of you in our world again. Good—and troubling, if you get my meaning.”

  Duncan laughed outright. “I understand and take no offense.” He spoke a few more words with the selkie in a dialect of Gaelic Dante had never learned. It was old. Far older than Dante himself if he was any judge.

  He would’ve tried to listen, but he heard Megan approaching and turned to meet her.

  She flew into his arms looking drained and relieved.

  “How are you feeling?” He held her, supporting her weight as she sagged toward the deck.

  “The pain is subsiding. Give me a minute or two, and I’ll be okay. You got him?” She looked hopeful.

  “We got him,” he assured her. “He’s dead, and his magic with him. You should be free of the effects shortly. It takes a while to fade completely, from what I recall.”

  “You’ve done this sort of thing before?” She looked at him sideways.

  “In the distant past. Not often, but often enough to remember how it works for the most part.” He smiled at her because he couldn’t help himself. She would be free and that meant he’d be free as well…to feast on her.

  Dante noted absently when the selkie slid under the water and disappeared. Duncan seemed to have had a lot to say to the man, but Dante wouldn’t pry. Duncan had a higher calling and many secrets to which Dante was not privy. It was the nature of his race to be secretive, and Dante would have long ago lost him as a friend if he let such things bother him. It was enough to know what Duncan was and who he served. All the rest were just details he could easily do without.

  Megan pushed away, able to stand on her own. She looked tired. Some sleep would help restore her. A lot of sleep. First, however, they had a yacht to search.

  “Are you up to looking around a bit? We should take this opportunity to search the yacht.” He studied her beautiful face, concern for her wellbeing foremost in his mind.

  “I’m feeling better with every passing moment, as a matter of fact. I’d like to see what’s left of him. Just so I know… So I can be sure.”

  “I understand.” Dante tucked her under his arm as he led the way toward the boat. Duncan joined them, seeking to board first.

  “Everything magical in the vicinity should have been obliterated by that final blast, but just in case…” Duncan hopped over the railing, climbing nimbly aboard the huge boat. The gangplank had been stowed, but Duncan set it out for them after taking a quick look around.

  Dante allowed Megan to precede him aboard, bringing up the rear as he kept an e
ye out for any signs of possible trouble. There were none. As Duncan had predicted, very little magic had survived the battle. The area had been cleansed by the clash of energies and was as close to pure as possible given what had taken place here only moments ago. Duncan was a better judge of such things, of course, but Dante had seen his share of magical battles in the past and had learned what to look for.

  “Thank the Lady,” Megan whispered. She stood looking down on the sightless eyes of her keeper. “He’s really dead.”

  “That he is,” Dante agreed. He wasn’t too worried about Megan’s sensibilities. Shifters were used to the hunt and to killing their prey. She wouldn’t be shocked by what was left of her keeper. In fact, he realized, she needed to see it, to know for certain he no longer had any power over her.

  “His name was Igor Poferov,” she said, looking at the corpse. She smiled faintly as she looked up at Dante. “I can actually say it without any pain. His hold is broken. Thank the Goddess!”

  “And Duncan,” Dante added with a grin.

  “And a certain sharp-taloned owl,” Duncan said with fierce approval. “Couldn’t have done it without you, brother.” Duncan patted him on the back as he passed, heading toward the hatch that led below. “I’m going to have a look around. Will you keep watch above?”

  Dante agreed quickly, knowing Megan needed a little time to recover and take it all in. Duncan could search the mage’s domain more thoroughly than he could anyway and it wasn’t that large a boat. The search wouldn’t take long.

  “Poferov is—was—the top man in the AC for the metro New York region. There will be some turmoil when they learn of his death.”

  “The real Altor Custodis won’t do anything about it. It’s the wolves hiding in sheep’s clothing, if you’ll forgive the metaphor that we have to be worried about. If this man had other Venifucus agents under him, or even above him, they’ll be on the lookout for us, though I doubt we’ll be the first ones they seek for his death.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “This tub belongs to the Vabians.”

  “Ah…” He could see the wheels turning in her mind. If Poferov died on Vabian turf, it would be the Vabians who’d be sought first in connection with his death.

  “Are we just going to leave him here then?” Megan asked.

  “I think it best.” Dante shrugged carelessly. “He certainly deserves no better and I wouldn’t like to taint any other place with his evil, even in death. This is a fitting place for him until his fellows discover him. Then they can do with him what they will.”

  “Dammit!” Duncan walked back onto the deck, a dead snake in one hand. “The bastard had a pet on board and it bit me.”

  Megan and Dante both went to him. Dante grabbed the snake, made certain it was dead and ascertained it was of the non-poisonous variety. He threw it onto the dock after securing its mouth with a spare piece of line to prevent any of Duncan’s blood from tainting the wooden planks. They’d take the snake with them when they left and dispose of it properly so it couldn’t lead anyone back to them. Megan, meanwhile, was looking at Duncan’s wound.

  “There should be a first aid kit on this boat somewhere,” she muttered, looking around.

  “I’ll get it,” Dante said. “Don’t touch anything if you can help it and if you do touch something, wipe it off. Good old fashioned fingerprints could lead them to us even more quickly than Duncan’s magical signature.”

  Megan nodded as she opened Duncan’s sleeve, wiping at the slow trickle of blood. Dante was pleased to see they were both careful about leaving any behind. So far, they hadn’t left anything on the boat that could lead back to them, but this complicated matters. Dante knew better than anyone that blood was a powerful marker for all kinds of beings.

  He found a small first aid kit stowed within easy reach of the deck and brought it to Megan. She’d ripped through Duncan’s sleeve to expose the wound and was examining it. It didn’t look too bad to Dante’s eyes. Still it had to hurt like the dickens.

  “I’d offer to lick that closed, but I hesitate given the snake’s involvement. For all we know, some residual magic could have resided in it.”

  “Your caution is warranted, my friend.” Duncan cringed as Megan began to bathe the wound, carefully keeping track of every item she used, putting the bloody gauze in the top tray of the plastic first aid kit. They would take that with them too when they left. “I felt it zap me with a good dose of black magic when it struck, yet not enough to do me harm. It probably would’ve killed anyone else though, so it’s not to be trifled with.”

  “Poferov used to keep that thing in a big aquarium behind his desk,” Megan reported. “Gave me the creeps every time he called me into his office.”

  “Probably his familiar,” Dante murmured. “Some mages still invest part of their magic in a pet, keeping it handy to call on as a reserve should need arise.”

  “That was definitely the case here. Because the creature had been given the mage’s energy to keep as its own until it was needed, it survived its master’s death,” Duncan reasoned. “Just my luck to come across it.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t think he’d travel with it.” Megan cringed. “And I couldn’t tell you anything. Not even about the damned snake.”

  “It’s all right, lass.” Duncan soothed her as she began applying antiseptic to his wound. “None of this was your fault.”

  “Then why do I feel like I brought all of this to your door?” She shook her head, clearly exhausted. “I’m sorry.”

  “Did you find anything below besides the snake?” Dante asked. He figured a change of subject was in order.

  “Nothing useful.” Duncan looked grim. “The mage wasn’t staying here. It looked as if he had just arrived, and he had none of his personal effects except the snake, of course.”

  Something smelled bad about this whole setup. They’d come here to hunt Siobhan and had ended up with much bigger prey. It didn’t add up to Dante’s way of thinking.

  “This was too easy.” Duncan spoke Dante’s thoughts, fatigue in every line of his body.

  “Easy?” Megan bandaged the wound on his arm. “You call this easy?”

  “If you’d have asked me how this was going to go down, I’d have said Siobhan Vabian would be the first to fall. She seemed like the easier target, all things considered.” Dante shrugged. “She has no discipline. So far she’s acted out of a surplus of emotion with little success. Whereas this Poferov fellow, by his very nature, is a planner, a deep player.”

  “Someone served him to us on a silver platter,” Duncan concluded.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised to find that there are others involved in this.” Dante shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Perhaps there’s someone close to Siobhan who’s a little more experienced than she’s shown herself to be. Could be they didn’t want to see her fall and decided to distract us with another target instead.”

  “It’s a likely possibility. Then again, getting Poferov was a good day’s work.” Dante leaned down to stroke Megan’s hair. “You’re free of him now. However it happened, the result is something to be thankful for.”

  They didn’t take long to leave the yacht, leaving Poferov’s corpse behind for the Vabians to discover. Dante used his own brand of magic to blur their presence from anyone who might still be looking. Only two people in the marina had poked their heads out when the light bulbs blew and both were long gone, but Dante wasn’t taking any chances. Without the lights, the marina was pitch dark. All three of them had good night vision and could easily see where they were going.

  They reached the car, which he’d parked out of sight a block away, and drove off without further ado.

  “Where to now?” Megan asked.

  “My place,” Dante said firmly. “The Vabians will likely check tomorrow morning to see who survived this encounter. They wouldn’t chance coming in the night, in case things unfolded as they have. They wouldn’t want to face us after we’d just dispatched their pawn and
if Poferov had survived, they’d be able to come up with some excuse for not arriving before daybreak. We should be safe enough at my home for the rest of the night and most of the day. I doubt they’re prepared to strike at me again so soon, considering they had to believe Poferov might’ve done the job for them.”

  The ride to Manhattan was accomplished quickly, with little traffic at this time of the morning. While it was true that New York was the city that never sleeps, it did snooze every once in a while and the wee hours of the night was one of those times.

  “I’m sorry I was so useless back there,” Megan said as they headed toward the bridge that would take them off Long Island. “I was no help at all.”

  Dante reached for her hand, steering the car with his other hand. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. We had it under control.”

  “You did the best you could, given the circumstances,” Duncan said helpfully from the back seat. “Poferov was one hell of a mage. I’m surprised you were able to defy his compulsion as much as you did. Look on the bright side—you’re free of it now. You can tell us everything you know about his operation and I’ll take a final look at your blood, just to be certain the poison died with Poferov. I feel certain it did, but it pays to be cautious in cases like this.”

  “Why? What do you think might happen?” Megan turned in her seat to look at Duncan worriedly.

  “Well, we’ve been operating under the assumption that Poferov was the one who poisoned your blood. It’s a good assumption, but before anyone does any biting—” he looked significantly at Dante, “—we need to be certain. You don’t remember being put under his compulsion or having the poison put into your bloodstream, do you?”

  “No.” Megan’s brow wrinkled in a frown.

  “It’s more than likely he clouded your mind. I just want to make sure he was the only mage involved. If there’s another one out there, the poison could still be active. If not, you’re probably clean.”

  “I hadn’t thought of that. Let’s check as soon as possible, okay?” Megan sounded eager, and Dante took that as a good sign. She knew as well as he did that if her blood was clean, he’d be drinking it as soon as could be arranged. He’d fuck her and feed from her as he’d wanted to do since the moment he first saw her.