Hell's Warrior

by Jaye Roycraft

  Blood and a death rattle escaped the open mouth. The Asian was a true pro. He’d relinquish his heart’s blood and his existence on earth before he’d give Cade the satisfaction of a response. He finished it, digging into the chest cavity and pulling out the severed heart.

  Boots pounded the floor behind him. Cade turned his head in time to see Nate advancing with a long-barreled gun held at the ready in a two-handed grip.

  “Step aside, Cade.”

  Cade had no time to do anything but act on instinct. He dropped the heart, dismounted the Asian, and lifted the body of his foe in front of him like a shield. If he was the target, it was the only protection he had against Nate’s Claws.

  Nate stared down the barrel of the rifle and fired.

  Blood splattered against Cade’s face, and through the red mist he saw Nate lower his weapon.

  Just who had Nate been aiming at? The mind-fuck on the rooftop had revealed no apparent deception in Nate’s consciousness, but Cade still had too many questions about him. Ryder had tailed Cade from Midnight Oil, and no one knew Cade would be there except Nate. Cade hadn’t forgotten that.

  “Hand me the rifle, Nate, and stay here.”

  Nate handed it over, but even without the rifle, there were too many guns still hidden in the room for Cade’s comfort, not to mention the four or five weapons Nate carried on his person. He had to get Nate out of here, but first things first. Cade hurdled the bar, stripped off his bloody T-shirt, then ran a bar towel under hot water and used it to clean the blood from his face, arms, and chest.

  He turned back to Nate. The man stood rooted to the floor, staring at his handiwork. The shot had been expertly placed and had decapitated the Asian.

  “Nate.”

  Nate turned and blinked at him.

  “Time to go. Get your recordings, and let’s get out of here.” He was surprised the cops hadn’t already stormed the building. Thor must be doing a hell of a job.

  Nate grabbed a nylon bag from behind the bar and started packing up the equipment he and Cat had set up. Cade counted the minutes as they passed, growing more nervous with each. Too much was wrong. Too much needed explaining. And he had a feeling that his battles tonight had only just begun. “Let’s go, Nate. Now. Give me the bag.”

  Nate nodded, and they made their way to the basement. This time they didn’t go back through the restaurant. The cops would have the entire block cordoned off by now. But earlier tonight Cade had discovered another underground passageway, one that headed west toward the cemetery. Vamphasia was an old building, and Cade could only speculate that the tunnels had been built during the days of Prohibition. The tunnel was cool and dank, but the air didn’t bother him. Ahead of him, though, Nate was breathing hard. Ten minutes later they came to the base of a stone flight of stairs.

  “Turn off your flashlight, and wait for me here,” Cade whispered.

  Cade ascended the stairs and stopped, eased open the door at the top, and reached out his senses. He detected no vampire spoor or mortal scent. It was the interior of a mausoleum. Cade cracked the outside door. All was quiet in the cemetery, but a block and a half away, flashing light bars on police squads lit up the night. He returned to the top of the staircase and told Nate to come ahead. Stepping out into the night air, Cade drew a long breath. It was time to face Thor.

  “Thor, where are you?” he whispered into the mic. “Thor, do you copy?”

  “Thor here.”

  Cade wasn’t sure if he was glad or not to hear his tyro’s voice. A reckoning was coming. No one but Thor could have moved the hidden weapons in Vamphasia. Cade knew it, and Thor had to know Cade knew it. “Where are you?”

  “Behind the club. The soldiers are storming the castle.”

  “We’re out. The Asian’s dead. I left Koslik alive in the initiation room. Meet us at the rendezvous point.”

  “Copy. I’ll be there in two.”

  Two minutes to wring the truth out of Nate.

  “Why did you shoot the Asian, Nate? He was already dead. Besides, I told you not to interfere. I told you he was mine alone.”

  Nate’s gaze panned the cemetery. “Thor had things under control outside. I thought you might need help.”

  “I get it. See vampire, kill vampire. Are you sure you weren’t the one to hire him to fuck with me, Nate?”

  Nate’s eyes found his and blinked. “What? No, no way.”

  “Koslik didn’t hire the Asian. The Asian knew nothing about him.”

  “Of course not. Koslik went thru the mob to hire him. He’d never open himself up to exposure by hiring an assassin himself. And if Koslik didn’t hire your buddy, I don’t know who did. Hell, if I wanted you dead, I’d have done it long ago.”

  “You thought to kill him because you thought he would talk. With the Asian gone, your secret was safe.”

  Nate hadn’t stopped wagging his head back and forth. “Man, you got this all screwed up. That’s not why I shot him. I just wanted to make sure he was dead.”

  Thor would be here any minute. Cade couldn’t confront Thor and worry about Nate at the same time. Until I can be sure about you, it’s better this way.

  “Sorry, friend.”

  Cade laid him out with a single blow to the jaw before Nate could utter a word. There was no sight of Thor yet. He grabbed the man’s coat and took a moment to pop the discs out of the recorders. Koslik’s confession was his salvation, and right now, nothing, but nothing, was more important than that.

  CADE’S VOICE CAME over the walkie as imperious as ever. Imperious and very much un-truly-dead. Damn. Thor took a few seconds to compose himself, for he wanted no surprise in his voice when he replied.

  “Thor here.” Still, he was surprised. Between Nate and the Asian, Cade should be toast. Cade’s brief report informed him otherwise. The Asian was dead, and Cade and Nate waited for him in the cemetery. He had no choice now but to go.

  But how? How had Cade defeated the Asian with just one knife? Double damn. It would have been so easy if the Asian had prevailed. The city would have a fresh start with new leadership on both sides, and he would have been seen as loyal to the end. Somebody would appreciate his talents and trust him with more important jobs than counting receipts and chauffeuring.

  But the shit had hit the proverbial fan, and he was right in its path. Cade had to have found out that the planted weapons weren’t there, and Cade had to know he’d moved them. Nate hadn’t been with them when they’d hidden the various swords and knives.

  Thor slipped through Vamphasia’s rear entrance as he heard the SWAT cops entering from the front. He moved through the tunnel that led to the cemetery and tried to put his mind in gear. Think fast. Should he lie? No, Cade would know a lie. He pulled up just short of the exit to the mausoleum and breathed deeply of air that was rank with mold and rot. He ignored the smell. No, he wouldn’t lie, he wouldn’t run, and he wouldn’t dodge. He’d stand up to Cade, even if it meant he’d be joining the Asian in the Big Descent.

  CADE WAITED, wondering which emotion was holding up Thor’s progress. Guilt? Fear? Regret? No matter. He spent the extra minutes relieving Nate of his personal weapons, four semi-automatics in total. He emptied all the weapons, dropping the mags out and ejecting the rounds in the chambers. He put the guns in one zippered compartment of the bag, and into another he popped all the rounds out of the magazines. Claws, every last one.

  The door to the mausoleum opened, and Thor stepped out, no worse for wear. Their eyes met, and Cade heard the silent communication.

  I know, and I know that you know that I know.

  With that out of the way, Thor nodded toward the body on the ground. “What happened to him?”

  “He tripped over somebody’s grave. He’ll be okay. Let’s get out of here before the cops find that tunnel. Pick up our friend.”

 
Thor eyed him for a dozen heartbeats then did as he was told, lifting Nate in a fireman’s carry. The cemetery was small, and in a few minutes they arrived at the northern entrance off Clark Street.

  A groan from Nate signaled his return to consciousness, and Thor dumped him on the ground none too gently. Nate brought his hand to his jaw, worked it back and forth, and spit on the ground. “Son of a bitch.”

  Cade looked around. Traffic was light, but he wanted to be gone from here. “Get up.”

  Nate stood, rubbed his jaw, and looked from Thor to him. He spoke no more, but his eyes said volumes.

  “Pick up your bag. We need to make it to the car. Behave yourself, and you’ll be okay. Understand?”

  Nate answered with another glare.

  “Start walking.”

  Nate carried the bag in his left hand and fished for his guns with his right. “What’d you do with them?”

  “You’ll get them back.”

  When they reached the car, the bag went in the trunk, Nate went unhappily into the cramped backseat, Thor got into the passenger seat, and Cade drove. The conversation was as sparse as the traffic, and without incident they made it back to the apartment where Cat waited.

  “Well?” she asked, her impatience clear in both her voice and the wide-eyed look she wore. She looked to Nate, but when he said nothing, she shifted her gaze to him.

  “Yeah. Ask his highness,” Nate ground out, as if every one of his teeth hurt.

  He kept it brief. “Koslik showed. He implicated himself and Doyle. We got his confession.”

  She stared at Nate. “That’s all?”

  Nate said nothing, so he doled out a little more. “That was the goal, wasn’t it? To get evidence that would prove me innocent of Deborah Dayton’s murder?”

  Her gaze shifted to him, and it was so intense he knew he’d never forget those eyes. Dark and rich and deep, so deep he couldn’t see all the things they held. Correction—so deep he couldn’t see any of the things they held.

  Of course. Cat. He’d never bothered to put Cat to the test. He’d trusted Nate after the mind-fuck, so by extension, he’d trusted Cat. That had been a mistake. Cat, who had a mind of her own. Cat, who’d used him with her sexuality so shamelessly he’d thought it was all about him.

  He turned to the man he’d been too quick to judge. “My apologies, Nathan.”

  “What?”

  “You can explain it all to Sister Cat . . . how wrong I was about you tonight. Thor, I think it’s time we took our leave.”

  Chapter Thirty-six

  THE AIR INSIDE THE car was thick with all the things left unsaid between them. So when Thor told him to pull the car over, Cade didn’t bother asking him why. They were adjacent to the Rosehill Cemetery. It was indeed as good a place as any to do what needed to be done. He parked the car along Peterson, and they got out and climbed over the locked gate with ease. The trees and bushes still gathered their late-summer leaves to their bosoms, as if for warmth on this cold, clear night, but for Cade it simply meant that he and Thor would be well shielded from those neighborhood residents not yet six feet under.

  “You aren’t even going to ask me what this is about, are you,” said Thor.

  “Moving the weapons inside Vamphasia spoke to me loud and clear. You wanted me defenseless. You wanted the Asian to defeat me. What exactly do you want to add to the statement ‘I want my doyen dead?’”

  Thor looked as cool as ever, and his clipped blond shag reminded Cade of a young lion. “Aren’t you curious why I did it?” Thor asked.

  The question evoked more sadness than anger, and Cade wondered why this was so. By rights he should have killed Thor immediately upon learning of his betrayal. Maybe Cat was right—he was getting soft. But Thor had been a good tyro, and the thought of having to kill him roused no passion in Cade. “Why then, Thor? Why see me dead? Because of what happened to Red?”

  “That’s part of it. I do hate you for that. But I’ve long thought it time our people have new leadership. We need someone to lead us, not divide us. We need someone we can trust and who trusts us.”

  “Ah, spoken like the idealistic young cub you are. And who do you envision as doyen? Yourself?”

  Thor paused. “No. I recognize my youth.”

  “Then who?”

  Thor stared at him, but in the gleam in his eyes was the admission that he didn’t have all the answers.

  “You care about your kind, Thor, and that’s good, but you have no idea what it takes to lead a city like Chicago, especially now in this new world we find ourselves in.” He took a deep breath. “You know I should kill you.”

  “I expect you to try.”

  A bold a statement as any Cade had ever heard. Thor had never lacked courage. “And you’re willing to die the true death just to make this point of yours.”

  Thor smiled, and the look reminded Cade of the cocky fighter he’d seen so many years ago in Black-Eyed Susan’s. “Dying isn’t part of my plan.”

  Cade shook his head, and it was as much a sign of his sorrow as his denial of Thor’s boast. “You know you can’t beat me.”

  “I know no such thing. You’re not infallible. I’ve seen your weakness. I saw what the Asian did to you in that alley.”

  Cade hadn’t wanted Thor to see him after his first battle with the Asian for just this reason. Image and reputation were as great a part of one’s power as actual strength, and Thor had been privy to the truth behind the image. “I killed the Asian. I sculpted death from his flesh, and his dying heart surrendered its blood to my hand. You think you can do better than a professional killer?”

  “I don’t compare myself to him. I have my own skills. Or maybe you’ve forgotten I was a fighter?”

  Cade had been slowly leading them toward the center of the cemetery, to ensure any noise they made wouldn’t be heard by passersby on the street, but at Thor’s question he whirled to face his tyro. “I forget nothing! You were a pug, not a fighter. You fought for a meal and a whore, so don’t delude yourself that you were anything but a two-bit palooka with a pretty face.”

  “Damn you!” Thor flew at Cade, knocking him backward with the force of his charge, but it was a harmless move, sending both of them tumbling to the ground, nothing more.

  Cade rolled to his feet, whipped off his coat, and before the leather hit the ground, Gravedigger was in his hand. “Walk away from this, Thor. I’m giving you a chance no one else would. Believe me when I say this. Walk away, now. You can’t win.”

  “Damn you to hell! I was better than that then, and I’m better than that now, and you know it. But what do I do? I mix drinks for mortals, count money, and shuttle you around the city so you can fuck mayors!” Thor drew his own knife from a sheath under his jacket. It was a Bowie, like Cade’s own, long and sharp.

  Any pity he’d felt for Thor was vanquished by the sight of the Bowie. He’d never known Thor to carry a knife, but this one was both beauty and business, with a red stone handle and a blade that was at least nine inches long. Thor held the knife with ease, point up, and tiny balls of moonlight rolled up and down the polished blade. The weapon looked impressive, but point up was the wrong way to wield the knife. Thor’s inexperience was already showing.

  “I gave you the chance a hundred thousand vampires in this city would kill for!”

  “You gave me shit, Cade.” With that, Thor lunged again, lashing with the knife.

  Cade pivoted, but was thrown off balance, and both of them lurched into a monument. He kicked Thor to the ground, but Thor was on him again like a terrier, slashing with such speed that the knife became invisible, and even the flashes of light that reflected off the blade were reduced to a blur. But Thor’s movements, though fast, were novice and predictable, and Cade’s body reacted on instinct. He danced and gave ground, giving his mind a chance to plan the l
esson he intended to teach Thor.

  The only question was the severity of the lesson, and the options, like dominos, stood and toppled in his mind’s eye. A slap on the hand. No. The sting from the cuts accumulating on Cade’s arms and chest felled that idea. Cade stumbled backward over a headstone, and Thor leapt on him, mounting him like a lover. Cade saw Thor’s polished blade, inch by inch, disappear into his flesh. Time decelerated, and Cade saw and felt all in agonizing clarity. Just to the right of the strap of Gravedigger’s sheath, Cade’s blood-speckled skin tore under the onslaught on Thor’s blade. Both Thor’s pale hands gripped the handle of the Bowie just below the engraved sub-hilt, working the blade back and forth. Long, slow seconds passed, then the pain of the severed flesh hit like a delayed thunder boom, and Cade bit back a scream.

  Thor had missed his heart, for the thrust was well above his pectoral muscle, but the agony dismissed any remaining notions of teaching Thor anything less than a life-changing lesson.

  So intent was Thor on slicing a path to Cade’s heart that he seemingly forgot about his own defense. It was almost too easy.

  Cade knew as well as any surgeon the precise location of the human heart, and he drove Gravedigger home. Thor emitted a cry muffled by teeth clamped together. His tyro had determination, but Cade could feel the shudder of Thor’s invaded flesh flow like a current from the blade to Cade’s hand. Cade knew the body-wrenching, mind-numbing pain of a heart piercing, and he understood exactly what Thor was feeling. His clarity would be gone. His mind would be in true darkness, unable to focus, unable to form a logical thought. He would know only emotion—only the bottled up feelings that immortality had deemed worthless. He’d see both his past and his end, and his lost mortality would return for a few brief moments before the true death claimed him.

  But Cade knew no pity, and when Thor collapsed to the ground, Cade moved with him, maintaining the pressure of the knife thrust. Thor’s hand fell from his own Bowie, which was still impaled in Cade’s chest, and with his free hand, Cade pulled out Thor’s knife and plunged it, too, into his tyro’s heart.