by Sean Hayden
I turned the handle and lifted up on the roof hatch. I peered down through the opening to see if they had been smart enough to post a sentry at the bottom of the ladder. Lucky for us, the way seemed clear. I moved to step onto the ladder and make my way down it when Thompson jumped through the hole and dropped the ten feet down to the floor. I raised my eyebrows at how silently he landed. I guess the thick pads on the bottom of his feet weren't just for walking over rough terrain. I decided against the ladder and followed suit, my shoes making a little more noise than his lion feet. I stood from my crouch and looked around.
We stood on a landing overlooking the bottom floor of the warehouse. From our vantage point we could see rows and rows of empty metal storage racks. What use Cicero could have for such vast storage facilities we would probably never know. If everything went according to plan he would be out of business by sun up tomorrow.
We made our way to the metal banister marking the edge of the landing floor. We could see the entire warehouse from this vantage. Beyond the rows and rows of racks stood what looked to be an office built against the far wall complete with windows and a very sturdy looking door. The windows had blinds but the slats were open allowing the occupants of the office to see out on the warehouse floor. Unfortunately from the angle we had we couldn't see in, but neither could they see us.
Thompson made the first move. He leapt from the landing and onto the top of the nearest storage rack. The top shelf sat only about ten feet lower than the landing, but about thirty feet away. I knew I could leap far enough, but I wasn't comfortable enough with my control not to over jump it and bring them all crashing down like a row of giant dominoes. We had the element of surprise and I intended to keep it.
I let Thompson take the high road and I decided for the low. I opted for silence over speed and made my way down the three landings of stars to the bottom floor. I made my way over to the maze of metal storage and put my back against it, trying to see into the office. I could make out shapes but no features. I still hadn't made it close enough, even for my vampiric eyes. I looked up and saw Thompson leap from the one he had initially landed on to the next. I followed him quietly, dodging from one to another, constantly keeping my eyes on the office for signs of movement or alarm.
When we got to the last row of shelving, Thompson dropped from the top and landed with a silent whoosh next to me. I had my back to the shelf and fought not to panic. We had no idea how many vamps sat in the office with Cicero, and the angle of our location put us at a disadvantage because we couldn't even remotely see into the window overlooking the warehouse, and we had about another thirty feet until we made it to the door. Now we needed to draw them out. I had no intention of charging an office with an unknown amount of vampires in it.
I turned my head and looked at Thompson. He leaned his head and in a voice about seven octaves lower than his normal deep voice he whispered, "Push.” I didn't know what he meant until he looked up at the shelving unit towering fifteen feet above our heads. Apparently Thompson liked to play with dominoes.
I put my back against the massive rack and pushed. I heard Thompson growl under the strain as well. Both of us had supernatural strength, but even I will admit I doubted we could do it. I could feel my calf muscles shaking under the strain as I pushed up with my back and hands. Finally the edge closest to us lifted off the ground a fraction of an inch and began to tilt backward along the entire length. We kept pushing hoping to get enough leverage to where it would fall on its own. Inch by inch we fought until the weight of the thing seemed to teeter on its own, and then finally we felt it start to pull away from us. I couldn't wait to hear what this sounded like. I stood there waiting for the show to start, but Thompson had other ideas. He grabbed my wrist in his claws and ran over to the door dragging me behind him.
I expected him to start swatting vampires one by one as they ran out the door, but apparently he had another strategy in mind. He turned his head and watched the row of shelving as it began its downward sweep toward the other rack. When it had fallen to within a foot of the next, he leapt into the air above the office, so I did the same.
With a thundering boom it crashed into the next effectively muffling our landing above the office door. On cue the door swung outward and at least a dozen vampires poured out into the warehouse proper. "Cicero," Thompson grumbled at me with a mouth not designed for human speech as he leapt from the office onto the backs of the last three vampires to clamor out of the office looking for the cause of the wreckage. One by one the racks fell onto each other; the sound vaguely reminiscent of gunshots spaced a few seconds apart.
I took an unnecessary deep breath and stepped off the roof of the office, landing square in front of the doorway. I turned and saw a wide-eyed Cicero sitting behind another desk of beautiful wood and unnecessary proportions. He had his hand on the radio no doubt trying to contact the sentries stationed on the rooftop. I smiled at him and slowly started walking towards him ignoring the roars and sounds of battle behind me. I felt bad leaving Thompson to face the dozen or so vampires by himself, but he seemed to think he could handle it. I would incapacitate Cicero and then help him if he needed it.
I expected Cicero to put down the radio and leap across the desk to try to tear me apart with his bare hands, so I felt a little puzzled when he keyed up the mike on the little radio and shout the word, "Now.” He smiled at me and then he finally stood up and rounded the desk. Again I expected him to attack, but he just leaned back and planted himself on the edge of the top of the desk. He said nothing, just smiled.
I on the other hand had a sinking feeling in the pit of my useless stomach. I took my eyes off Cicero and turned toward the open doorway. I saw Thompson holding his own against the dozen vampires trying to get within striking distance without getting mauled by his four inch long claws and razor sharp teeth. I also saw several garage doors built into the wall open and a multitude of werewolves pouring through, and making their way towards the battling vampires and werelion. "We're fucked," I thought. The least I could do for Thompson would be to kill the son of a bitch in front of me and go down fighting by his side.
"You might as well give up, little girl. You can't win. If you surrender I might even let you and your friend live," Cicero taunted from his perch on his desk.
"Like you did Michaels?"
As soon as I said it, something inside me snapped. My arms came up from my sides and my wrists turned upwards. My hands contorted and my fingers arced as my thumbs seemed to lock and shake. I looked down and I saw my claws extend another inch from the tips of my fingers. My head tilted to the side as I kept shifting my eyes from my hands to the piece of shit sitting in front of me mockingly, only he didn't look as smug as he did a few seconds ago. As my head tilted I could feel the tendons in my neck become taut as the muscles around them over extended themselves and my shoulders stretched. I could feel hatred fill every cell of every muscle in my body. I didn't just want to kill Cicero, I wanted to destroy him, and I didn't mean it figuratively either.
I heard a ripping noise and I shifted my gaze down to the source of the noise. Like my fingers, the claws on my feet had grown and ripped through the leather of my shoes splitting them open like a banana skin. I stepped out of them and looked up to see something start to creep into Cicero's eyes, vaguely akin to fear. I thought I might be done changing, but I felt a blinding pain shoot outward from my forehead. I felt something trickle down my face and I wiped it away. Looking at my hand I saw blood. "What the hell," I thought as I reached up to feel my forehead. There on either side of my forehead, just below my hairline lay two tiny little bone protuberances I had a sinking feeling might be horns. Now I felt fear creep into my spine.
I opened my mouth to scream, but as soon as I did I felt my fangs, the ones I had my entire life, slide even farther down from my upper gums as they almost doubled in length. This time I did scream, but it wasn't a scream of fear. A scream of rage burst forth. An honest to goodness scream of primal fury shook the win
dows of the office, stopping the fighting momentarily outside, and turning the already pale Cicero, white with fear. If vampires urinated, I would bet my last paycheck I would see a stain on the front of his three-thousand dollar pinstriped Armani suit.
He looked for an escape; I could see it in his eyes, but the only route to the door behind me would be to go through me, and Cicero didn't look like he wanted to take that route. I heard the battle resume behind me and I knew Thompson couldn't hold off a dozen vampires and three times as many werewolves. My transformation had taken minutes; minutes he didn't have. I leapt across the room with the intent of grievously wounding Cicero in hopes of incapacitating him, but I wasn't in control. As soon as I had his head in my hands, my mouth sought out his neck. I bit so hard I tore flesh and the spray of blood shot across the room and stained one white wall a crimson red. It looked like an artist had airbrushed a solid red rainbow across it.
Cicero had become a lunatic. Because of him good cops and good people had died. He lived by a set of rules which had died out long ago for good reason. He had no morality, he had no mercy, but his blood tasted exquisite. As soon as it hit my tongue I relished in its flavor, I relished in its taste, and I sighed from a debt now forgiven. Michaels died because of me, and now I ended the life which had ended his. I knew I wasn't going to stop and I didn't care. I drank until the blood flow slowed and then stopped, and then I wanted more. I came to a realization at that moment. When I rolled a vamp with my mind I felt their power. It manifested itself in my mind as a body of water. Again, I hovered above it. Cicero floated in front of me, helpless. I could feel the ocean of power tied to the blood of Cicero's body in my arms. I knew if I tried hard enough I could suck it out as well. I didn't draw it out with my mouth; I called it with my mind. I felt the body of water surge like a tide answering not to the moon, but to me instead. I called it and called it until the tide turned into a flow and then into a channel emptying itself into me. I felt his power add to my own. I wish I could say I left him a small pond to keep him alive, but my body took it all. When I released him he fell to the ground quite dead.
I let out another primal scream. This time the fighting didn't stop. I turned and bounded through the door. Thompson had fallen to one knee, one leg torn open by werewolf claws. Still, he fought. Vampire and werewolf bodies were strewn on the ground all around him, but they still surrounded him two and three deep. They kept trying to get close enough to deal a mortal blow. I felt the anger return.
I waded in slashing with claws, biting with teeth, and wrenching with all my strength. Blood covered me from head to toe, but it just fueled my fire and filled me with further bloodlust. I drove through them from the back to get to Thompson. Once by his side I helped him up to his feet and continued to fight driving the werewolves back. All of the vamps took one look at me and stopped fighting. I don't know if they were afraid of me or felt Cicero die. Either way I didn't care, it just meant less people I had to tear apart. Besides, I had more than enough werewolves to worry about.
Thompson started getting his second wind when little silver missiles started flying down from the landing above us. I half expected them to start hitting me and Thompson as well, but they struck only the werewolves in their legs, arms, and chests. They started lying down with their hands up when they realized to keep fighting meant dying. FBI agents started pouring in through the front door and down the stairs, weapons trained on the prone werewolves. Thompson fell again to his knee completely exhausted and I started shaking. The bloodlust and anger filled me and drove me to crush the foes in front of me.
I clenched my fists and closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. It wasn't working. I felt a hand grab my wrist and drag me into the office. Thompson sat me down on the couch and held my hand. I closed my eyes and didn't want to open them, not for at least a week. Somebody opened the door and a human sounding Thompson yelled at whoever had come in to get out. I didn't know what else to do so I went to the place in my mind where I could see my ocean. I floated there by myself, hovering over turbulent frigid waters. I couldn't see any shore containing it, but I could sense it had grown a little larger than before. Large white capped waves surged below me in every direction. I concentrated. I pictured the waves rolling instead of breaking and I could feel it working. They slowed and stopped breaking and finally even the caps disappeared until it became a rolling sea. This I could deal with, rolling good, waves not good.
I opened my eyes and Thompson stood there staring at me. It wasn't a worried stare; he looked almost as calm and serene as I felt. I felt better than I had since Michaels had been abducted. Even thinking about him didn't hurt as much anymore. I looked down at Cicero's lifeless form and didn't feel regret over his death, just about the fact I had caused it. I just wondered what would happen next.
"Reese seemed kind of pissed I kicked him out, is it okay if I let him in now?”
"I don't want him to see me like this. Just get me out of here. I'll turn in my badge later, please," I begged.
"Ashlyn, you don't understand, you're fine. You're back to normal. Trust me, when you calmed down the horns went away. Your face is back to normal. You look tired as shit, but normal."
I could tell he wasn't lying. As soon as the words came out of his mouth I reached my hand up to my head and felt around. No horns, no saber toothed Ashlyn. I let out a huge sigh I didn't know I had been holding in and sank back into the leather folds of the puffy couch. "Thanks, big guy. You can let him in."
Thompson stood and walked over to the door and opened it quickly, stepping outside, and leaving me alone with the corpse of Cicero. I sat for several minutes before they came back in. Reese ran over to me and held me as I sat on the little couch and returned the hug. I let out a sigh and thanked the gods everything was over. He let me go and handed me his FBI jacket. I smiled my thanks. I wrapped it around me and sat back. He asked me questions which I answered and with every answer he seemed appeased a little more. I only lied to him once, when he asked how Cicero had died. I told him I didn't know. The truth couldn't have been simpler. I ate him. Not the physical him, but the spark of magic which gave him life I devoured and made a part of me. I just hoped he didn't give me indigestion.
Chapter 23
I received a commendation from the Deputy Director of the FBI for my work in Chicago. Two weeks had passed before I hopped on a plane and headed back to Washington. Reese told them he had needed to tie up loose ends and fill out paperwork. To me he said I earned a paid vacation to get my head back in the game. I stayed at a hotel after retrieving my things from Michaels' apartment. After I left, his parents came to collect his things. Call me a coward, but I didn't stick around to introduce myself as the agent who got their son killed.
Thompson did take me to see Marcel. Apparently since I killed the Master of Chicago I had earned the right to take his place. I asked if I could decline, and he said yes. He seemed very supportive and happy about my decision. He said I could call on him any time if I ever wanted to learn more about my abilities. I did inquire as to what would happen now Chicago had been left without a Master of the City. He told me it would fall to Pike since Marazzo would be spending the next several years in prison until the time of his execution. I worried Pike wouldn't be able to do the job, but Marcel assured me the North American Vampire Council would be finding a suitable replacement.
I wondered why they didn't step in and remove Cicero from power, but as it turns out it's not how they work. They are made up of the most powerful masters of different cities. Cicero himself sat on the council. If they start dictating rules to different masters, it's seen as a territorial war and then things can get really ugly. Since he now existed as a jar of ashes, the circumstances had changed.
Rose Gates is now very comfortable in her cell at the Federal Prison outside of Marion, Illinois. Her trial begins next month. Reese told me she would be serving several life sentences, and the Deputy Director had launched an investigation in New York centered around her father.
Epilogue
Asmodeus sat on his throne and waited for the visitor to be announced by his herald. He had no inclination of what would bring one of the Chosen to his realm. He had done nothing outside of the law. He slammed his fist down on the throne of bone, but its enchantments made it indestructible even to the amount of force from the Demon Lord's mighty fist.
"My Lord, I bring you Raphael of the Second Choir."
Asmodeus nodded at his herald and looked to his Seneschal. The ghostly demon floated from his place to his Lord's side.
"Raphael, it is unexpected to see you roaming my halls. What brings you to my realm?"
"You have a very large problem, cousin," the angel sneered through clenched teeth.
"What do you mean?"
"You have broken the law and upset the balance. It has tilted greatly."
"I have done nothing outside my rights! What are you talking about?"
The angel sat down on a bench of his own conjuring, his pearlescent wings folding around him comfortably. He knew the list of charges by heart, but pulled the vellum scroll from a pouch at his side. He took great pains and great pleasure unsealing it and opening it, and took even more pleasure from the worried look on his cousin's grim visage.
"Nearly two decades ago, Lord Asmodeus did answer a summons meant for one of his minor underlings. It is your right to do so as we both know, however this is where it gets good. Upon his arrival he did willingly partake of the flesh of his summoner, impregnating her, and inflicting upon the mortal world a new type of Nephalim. It is the presence of this Nephalim which has upset the balance of power established by The All."