by Jex Lane
A smile twitched at the edge of the vampire’s pink lips. “So we do, one not all of us approve of.”
“But Archduke Günther does.”
The male vampire lord said nothing for a moment. Looking up at Tarrick, before his eyes dropped to Fate-Pebble. “Oracle—”
“German bad,” she said.
With a slight squint, the vampire tried to make sense of her words.
“She doesn’t speak much German. English is her native tongue, but she knows Russian, Norwegian, Portuguese, Spanish, and I’m sure a handful of others,” Tarrick explained.
The vampire spoke in English, his German accent thick, and said, “Oracle, you have our protection here”—his eyes moved back to Tarrick—“do you need it?”
“Nope. I’m good. But seriously, we need to find the kid so can we stop with the dick measuring? Tarrick’s is bigger anyways. I promise you.”
“I’m not sure about that. There’s only a single team of hunters here and I have plenty of my own gargoyles.” The vampire lord raised a bony index finger; above them, four gargoyles on the corner of the nearby building turned their heads and looked down. The vampire could command gargoyles to do his bidding.
“Oh,” Fate-Pebble said, “I was talking about his literal cock. Seriously, it’s ridiculous. He’d probably whip it out and show you if you asked.”
“We should ask,” the female lord said, laughter on her words and a cruel smile on purple colored lips.
“But yeah, you could totally kill us if you wanted. Can we go talk to Falise now? Krampus is on the loose and we need to stop him.”
“Krampus?” the vampire lord asked. “You must be joking.”
“She’s not,” Tarrick said. “How closely do you track human children in the city?”
The female’s head snapped to the male’s. “Brother—”
He held up his hand to silence her. “We’ll take you to our sire.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
“No gargoyles inside,” the vampire lord told Jet. The group—comprised of a half dozen vampires now, one incubus, and one gargoyle—stood outside a stone mansion that could have been mistaken for a cathedral with its sculpture façade, flying buttresses, and stained-glass windows.
Jet ignored him.
“See?” Fate-Pebble said. “I told you we’d be going somewhere that didn’t allow gargoyles.”
Jet ignored her also. He would not shift into human form again.
The male vampire lord opened his mouth and began to issue a command. Jet could feel the power brush up against him, trying to override his will, but his connection to Rage-Boulder meant he could not easily be dominated.
“He’s my familiar and I want him with me,” Fate-Pebble said.
The vampire lord considered her for a moment. “I will allow the exception, but I expect him to behave.”
Behave? Jet always behaved.
“Sometimes you don’t,” she said.
When?
“All the time around father. He’s always asking you to do things and you never do.”
Rage-Boulder had ridiculous requests sometimes. Once, he wanted Jet to wake up a bunch of gargoyles to fight in a battle. Jet had tried but that’s not how his people worked. It took time to convince them to leave their perches. Fleshlings were an impatient lot.
They entered.
Tarrick walked with complete confidence but—surrounded by creatures who would have killed him on sight only a few months prior—the Warlord had to be worried.
He no longer had his weapon either. There had been a few cold moments when the vampires insisted that Tarrick disarm; the tension only broke when Fate-Pebble assured Tarrick he’d get his kanabō back.
Tarrick also had to return to his human form—vampires didn’t use veils in this city—and had to dismiss the Wardens to the outskirts. Silva didn’t complain, but she wore a ‘are you sure you want to do this, sir?’ look on her face; she left without a word when ordered.
“Holy wow. Look at this place…” Fate-Pebble said, her eyes darting around.
Old and adorned with art and tapestries, it was the decorations going up that had captivated her. Hundreds of candles lined the walls, dripped from candelabras, and filled chandeliers. Servants, or maybe thralls—Jet wasn’t sure—were in the process of hanging red and black velvet ribbons from the ceiling. Vases were being set out but had no flowers in them yet.
“Is he really a duke?” Fate-Pebble asked once she finished her goggling.
The male and female lord both chuckled. “Of course.”
Tarrick snorted a laugh. “Hardly. He liked the title and started using it.”
“And how exactly did you get your title, Warlord,” the female said, amused.
Tarrick gave her a charming smile. “Fair enough, Karlene.”
“Ah, so you do know who I am.”
“Of course, Hound Mistress. Not many vampires possess your unique abilities. As far as I know, you’re the only lord who can turn into an entire pack of bloodhounds.”
“I do believe I am.”
“Perhaps later you could demonstrate your ability. I’d love to see it up close.”
The male vampire scoffed.
“Privately,” Tarrick added.
She seemed to like his suggestion.
Was the incubus flirting? Tarrick seemed to do it whenever he wanted something from someone.
The male vampire laughed. “My sister would tear you apart.”
“Be nice, Emeric,” Karlene said. “We are on the same side right now and it might help solidify a lasting peace.”
Fate-Pebble groaned. “We don’t have time for you two to bone tonight.”
Heavy double doors were pushed open and they entered a grand room with pillars and draped covered clerestory windows. Painted murals featuring supernatural creatures covered the walls and high ceiling.
The room buzzed with humans and lower vampires preparing the room for some type of party.
Archduke Günther slumped on a mountain of pillows. Stroking his short beard, he looked bored. Surrounding him, women—both human and vampire—lounged by his side. Immense power came from him.
The moment Günther laid his hard eyes on Tarrick, a smile lifted on his lips, as if thrilled something had come along to break the night’s tedium. He didn’t bother to stand. “Warlord Tarrick himself. In my home. And the oracle—”
“She doesn’t speak German,” Emeric said to his sire. “She prefers English.”
“Oracle,” he said again, switching languages, “welcome.”
Eyeing Jet, Günther added, “I thought I told you to keep your pets outside.”
Pet? Jet started to growl but Fate-Pebble grabbed one of the spikes on the top of his head and shook him a little. “Stop that,” she said.
Emeric went to sit in a chair flanking the throne. “He’s not mine, Father, he belongs to the oracle.”
Fate-Pebble stepped forward. “Are you hosting a Solstice Masquerade tomorrow?”
“I am. You are welcome to attend as my personal guest,” Günther said.
She looked to Tarrick as if asking for permission, then frowned and looked back. “I can’t. But it’s beautiful here.”
“Yes, it is.”
“A shame,” Tarrick said, “that the masquerade won’t actually be held here.”
Günther raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“No.” Tarrick pointed at some of the decorations around him. “These are to throw the new High General off. He’s short hunters tonight because he’s preparing to attack this place.”
“Did he tell you that?”
“We don’t chat much these days. I track hunter movements—as I’m sure you do—and you used this tactic on me once back in…what was it? 1732?”
Günther leaned on his arm a little heavier in amusement. “1731. I killed most of your army that night. You tucked tail and ran to the Americas right after. Mm. I’ve often dreamed of our meeting again. I swore to myself I would rip you apart if I had
the chance.”
“Well.” Tarrick held out his hands inviting the danger. “You have the chance.”
The ancient vampire lord ran a finger over his lips.
Abruptly, Günther was standing before Tarrick, having moved faster than even Rage-Boulder could. The vampire grabbed Tarrick’s hair and forced his head back. Two sharp fangs hovered above Tarrick’s neck.
“Don’t tempt me,” Günther whispered. “A vampire demigod walks and I don’t wish to anger him before I’ve had a chance to see what he can do, but you mean less than nothing to me. Were it not for our queen’s request, I would rip you apart painfully slow and enjoy every scream I drew from you.”
As abruptly as it had started, it ended. Günther appeared back on his pillows as if he’d never left them.
Tarrick adjusted a bracer on his armor as he straightened. “You have a demon in your city.”
“Krampus,” Fate-Pebble said.
“It is a xarlar.”
“If there was a xarlar here, I would have smelled it,” Günther said, dismissing the idea.
Xarlars were disgusting creatures. Demons that walked on four legs and dripped black saliva. Jet didn’t understand why Tarrick couldn’t accept that it was Krampus.
“They grow in power with each child they take, masking themselves,” Tarrick said. “How many children have gone missing from your city lately?”
A long string of expletives flew from the vampire’s mouth, and his harem moved away when he stood.
“I’ll need my weapon back,” Tarrick said.
“If I can’t sense it, how do we find it?” Günther asked, motioning for his son to return Tarrick’s weapon.
Fate-Pebble rested her hand on Jet’s stony neck. “Jet was able to smell it…”
All eyes landed on Jet.
“And isn’t it fortunate,” Tarrick said, “this entire city is covered with gargoyles?”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Jet crawled to the edge of a building and surveyed the city. Both the stars above him and the city below him twinkled with their golden light. No clouds or snowfall this evening. That’d make tracking a little easier.
He tried to pick up Krampus’ scent and failed. Too many people, too big of an area.
Settling down, Jet would wait here for a while and see if something caught his attention. Or maybe he’d go try and talk to the other gargoyles in a bit. He didn’t want to. They wouldn’t like him much because he followed Asper, and she loved incubi. These gargoyles had an affinity to vampires.
His species didn’t officially take a side in the war but each gathering had its preferences.
It wouldn’t matter much to them that Jet’s two stones were both vampires.
He stilled and enjoyed the cold breeze blowing around him, thankful to get away from the fleshlings for a while. When he had left, Emissary Falise, a social incubus, showed up and began a near worship of Tarrick. The emissary had fallen to his knees, and once he’d been given permission to rise, he started kissing the Warlord’s neck and rubbing against him.
Although Fate-Pebble didn’t say anything, Jet got the feeling she found it fascinating. She couldn’t seem to look away from the two men rubbing against each other. The other vampires hissed their disapproval or moaned quietly in appreciation. In any case, Jet wanted nothing to do with all their politicking and carnalism.
The streets were nearly empty, but given the late-night hour, it was expected. As he watched a car drive by, he listened to the stones’ stories.
Many humans here were under vampire control but not all of them. And, according to the stories he listened to, the vampires killed surprisingly few. Those who knew of them and broke their laws were hunted for sport…but a balance was maintained here. Blood taken but not life. It kept the vampires safe from human wrath and ensured they had a reliable food source.
Unable to put it off any longer, Jet sent a message through the stones, asking if the others had smelled death or seen anything related to Krampus. One gargoyle a few buildings over laughed but the rest remained silent. Great. Jet didn’t have months to befriend them.
He’d likely have better luck flying around.
Stretching his wings, he wished he could stay here longer. He dove through the sky and weaved through spires, trying to find any hint of Krampus. Nothing for a while until he passed a tall residential building. Death.
But something else also: Fate-Pebble. She could be in danger.
He flew around the building, locating a window to the fifth-floor hallway and flew right through it; the glass shattered around him. Shaking off the glass, Fate-Pebble looked down at him unimpressed.
She folded her arms. “You were supposed to track Krampus.”
“I waaaas.”
“It’s been hours.”
Jet lowered his head and his wings drooped. It hadn’t felt like hours…but time could get away from him. And who could blame him in a city as beautiful as this one?
A resident opened their door and immediately Karlene stood before him. “You heard nothing, the hall is empty,” she said, compelling him.
“Let’s go,” a deep voice said. Jet looked up to see Tarrick standing behind Fate-Pebble in his full incubus form, weapon in hand. No wings, though. No room for them.
Emeric and Archduke Günther were down the hall, and standing right next to them were the Wardens. If someone had asked Jet a few months ago if he ever thought a group of vampire hunters could be in the same area as three vampire lords without fighting, the answer would have been no.
But things had changed.
Rage-Boulder had done it.
And a little bit Tarrick too, but mostly Rage-Boulder. Jet beamed with pride for his stone.
“Get your head in the game,” Fate-Pebble said. “Krampus. He’s three floors up.” She turned to Tarrick. “I need a weapon.”
“No.” He motioned from a hunter to her. “Take her down to the car.”
“No—”
“You are not going to fight a demon. Go wait in the car with Jarok.” Tarrick’s order left no room for argument. Still, Jet expected her to try anyway.
“I’ll wait with Jet.” She took a seat in the middle of the carpeted hall, her arms still crossed.
Behind Tarrick, Günther laughed. “Stubborn child. I like you. You should come visit here more often.” The Archduke adjusted his blue vest and headed for the stairwell, his cane tapping along the ground. Jet could sense power coming from what was likely a blade hidden inside. Enchanted at least, but possibly divine-blessed. “It has been more than two thousand years since I have killed a demon. This should be interesting. Come, children.”
Karlene and Emeric—although far outside the age of being bound—obeyed. Jet wondered if they still had some type of bond or if it was simply family ties that kept them together. From what he’d observed of other vampires, they tended to leave once the sire-child bond broke. At least for a while.
“Neither of you is to leave this hall. Keep her safe,” Tarrick said to Jet. The Wardens followed the vampires, and, resting his kanabō over his shoulder, Tarrick took the stairs three at a time.
Fate-Pebble stood. “Wanna kill the Krampus?”
Jet cocked his head.
She pointed at a door. “In there. Hurry. Break the door down.”
From the stairwell, the echo of pounding hooves grew louder as Tarrick returned to their floor.
“Drat,” Fate-Pebble said, “I wish he wasn’t so smart. Go.”
When motivated, Jet could move quick. But…Tarrick had ordered him to stay and more importantly, the reason he had was to keep Fate-Pebble safe. She shouldn’t be anywhere near the creature.
Tarrick emerged from out of the stairwell; his face severe. “Which apartment is it in?”
“I—” Fate-Pebble started.
“Oracle.”
She pointed to the door.
Tarrick surged, swinging his weapon, smashing the wood door apart. He ran in.
And a moment later, part of
the wall exploded into a million splinters as Tarrick’s body went soaring through it. Airborne, he crashed into the other side of the hallway wall and dropped to the ground hard.
He coughed and stumbled back onto his hooves. Once he’d righted himself, he placed his hand over his chest plate, fingering a deep indent running across it.
The three vampires appeared. Followed by six hunters teleporting in.
“It seems I was mistaken. It is not a xarlar,” Tarrick said.
Fate-Pebble sighed dramatically. “It’s Krampus. And that’s five.”
Tarrick pointed at Fate-Pebble. “Get her out of here.”
Jet wrapped his arms around her and began to pull her to the shattered window. “Don’t you want to at least see what it looks like?”
He did. But his precious stone was more important.
The hunters disappeared to battle the creature. Tarrick joined them while the vampires, unable to enter a human dwelling uninvited, waited.
Jet pulled her from the building, holding her tight as he flew away. The sounds and smell of a battle behind him.
Fate-Pebble pointed north. “Go that way.”
He changed directions to follow her finger.
They flew until they hit the outskirts of the city. The buildings out here changed from impressive gothic architecture to modern urban sprawl. At the base of a snow-covered hill was a grouping of buildings that stood out from their surroundings. A university.
Why had Fate-Pebble led him here?
Landing in the courtyard, the unmistakable scent of Krampus hit him. The creature had been here.
The university seemed empty. Everyone home for the holidays most likely. But where were the groundskeepers?
“Dead. But it’s not totally empty here.” Fate-Pebble walked to a nearby building, one for classrooms. She tried the doors and found them locked. “We need to get in but alarms will go off. There’s gotta be another door around here or something.” They left the pathway and walked around the building. Right away they both spotted a hole in the wall, as if someone had broken it apart.
Jet pushed Fate-Pebble to the side and entered before she could.
“Rude,” she muttered under her breath.