Heroes

by Susan Sizemore

  The monster was crying now, making sharp, mewling sounds. Ben couldn’t look at the thing, not when it was growing out of Clare’s disintegrating body. The stench of her burning was still in the air. Fire flickered on the edge of Ben’s enhanced peripheral vision. He was going to burn too, if he didn’t get out soon.

  Animal mind wanted to run. Beast said running was the only way to survive. He could outrun anything.

  Not this. Not this.

  He was beast, but he wasn’t the monster here.

  He crawled, crawled. Get to Reese. Get to door. Then get to Reese. Inch, inch, inch. Rain poured onto his back. Water ran beneath hands and knees. Water was rising to a boil. Burning. Fire and water and air burning.

  Ben found the door. He hadn’t believed he would. He had to stand then, with that thing at his back.

  Ben made a picture of Clare form in the beast’s mind. He made the beast remember the taste of blood. Hunger for Reese’s blood.

  Even fear of the monster couldn’t stop the need for blood. Need for revenge. Need for freedom.

  He rose out of the boiling water, prayed the scalding steam would hide him. He found the doorknob. Claws made it harder, but he turned it. He jerked so hard the door came off its hinges. Ben fell forward, water pouring out into the hall with him. There were more sprinklers going off out here. An alarm sounded in the distance. Fire alarm, Ben recognized the sound. Sprinklers spraying water. Automatic systems doing their job. Where were people? Where security? Cameras everywhere. Who watching? Clare? Clare was gone.

  Companions, then? Nest members? Slaves? Where were his crew? They were charged with protecting this place.

  Reese, he remembered. Reese’s magic. Reese must have hurt all of them. Now the place was on fire.

  Monster’s doing. Monster would kill all.

  But the beast would kill Reese first. Make up for having started it all.

  Back in the dressing room, the monster screamed.

  In the hall, the beast scrambled to his feet and ran.

  “Do you know anything about vampire history, Mr. Haven?”

  Haven already knew that no matter how he answered Valentine’s question, he was in for a lecture. It seemed like every woman he met was a talker. Was there something about his aura that—

  “Projects that you’re a good listener,” Valentine finished the thought for him.

  Haven took his concentration off weaving through the heavy traffic long enough to give Valentine a dirty look.

  “You strong, silent types make us girls want to confide in you.”

  “Nah,” he answered. “I think it’s because I’ve started hanging with geeks.”

  She smiled, her dark eyes glowing. When Char showed off her vampire side, he always found it at least a bit disturbing. But from Valentine it was kind of cute. He had the feeling that she had to make an effort to act like a vampire.

  “I’m old,” she explained to him. “It becomes less important. At least, the urgency dies down to a mostly manageable level.”

  “Mostly?”

  “I’m not dead yet. Now, where was I?”

  Haven didn’t answer. His driving was automatic now. Most of his attention was on the Silk Road as they approached it. Invisible energy pulsed and twined around the huge building’s many spires and domes. It was like he saw the place through a kind of midnight heat haze. And the haze was spreading.

  “Don’t like the look of it,” he said.

  “And there’s a black-hearted feel to it as well,” the old vampire added. “Black magic. I hate black magic.”

  Haven canted an eyebrow at her. “Don’t vampires come from black magic?” Oh, God, he thought. Now I’ve done it. There was no one to blame now but himself if Valentine went off on the lecture circuit.

  “Yes,” she answered. “We were created by an act of evil. The first vampires brought it all on themselves.”

  “Really,” he said in a tone he hoped would convey, Please don’t say any more.

  It didn’t stop her. “There used to be a lot more magic in the world, Haven. A whole lot. Magic is energy.”

  “Yeah. I know that.”

  “You know how astronomers say that the universe is made up of stuff created during the Big Bang?”

  “I try not to watch the Discovery Channel.”

  “There’s stuff they know a little about, like gravity and matter and—stuff. But there’s all this energy they can’t find. Dark matter, I think they call it. I think magic’s part of what the universe is made of. It exists, but it’s dissipating. Or maybe there just aren’t as many sentient beings around these days who can use it.”

  “Seems like you vampires might be responsible for some of that.”

  “Maybe,” she agreed. “But in the old days most people had access to some kind of magical sensitivity. Many people were so powerful that they were acknowledged as gods. There was a goddess who lived among a nomadic people, a very long time ago. She was immortal—always young, always beautiful. She found a way to share her immortality with her people. Every decade or so there would be a gathering of her whole tribe. During a secret ceremony she would open her veins and let her blood flow into an elixir she made out of herbs and wine. Then her priests and priestesses would pass chalices of this sacred wine among the people. The elixir added to their lifespan, cured sickness. It was a great gift from the goddess to the people she loved. But people are stupid, selfish, and incredibly greedy.”

  “That’s the truth,” Haven agreed. They were sitting at a stoplight. He would have run it, but they were in a center lane, surrounded by far too many cars for the Jeep to clear. “Why are we driving to the hotel?” he asked Valentine. “You could have gotten there on your own power long before now.”

  “I’ve never taken up the vampire sport of running,” she answered. “Besides, I need to be in an enclosed space for a while.” She touched the door frame and ran a hand across the passenger side window. “Flimsy as this box of metal and glass is, I find being inside walls comforting. It’s a rough night, you don’t want me getting panicky on you.”

  “Point taken,” he told her. “That why you need to talk so much? To help keep it together?”

  “Yes.”

  The light changed and he pressed down on the gas. “Then keep talking, sister.”

  “All right. How much further?”

  Haven squinted, concentrated hard on the street. “Hard to tell. It keeps seeming farther away—then closer. Like a mirage. And don’t tell me that we’ve already passed the Mirage.”

  “I did notice the volcano going off as we drove by. Don’t you love the surrealistic nature of this town? About the Goddess,” Valentine went on.

  Haven noticed the glint of a small silver pendant hanging on a chain around Valentine’s neck, resting just above the V-neck of her black dress. The pendant was a tiny figure of a bare-breasted woman in a long belled skirt. The woman was holding a pair of snakes. Valentine touched the figure when she noticed him looking. “That the vampire goddess?” he asked.

  “No,” she answered. “The Lady of Snakes is someone else’s goddess. To continue the vampire goddess’s tale, somebody in her priesthood came up with a truly stupid idea. Not satisfied with a long, healthy life, the priests decided they wanted to be immortal too. So, they figured that if drinking a few drops of the goddess’s blood was so beneficial, imagine what consuming the goddess would do for them. They decided to kill and eat her.”

  Haven didn’t shock easily, but this rattled him. “How do you kill a goddess?” he asked.

  “Very good question. One this ancient priesthood apparently didn’t consider. What they did involved the darkest form of magic. They had a lot of power between them, and used it to bespell specially forged silver daggers.”

  “That’s where the Enforcer blades come from?”

  “I suppose the traditional weapon of the Enforcers comes from the old legends,” she answered. “The priesthood used their magic knives to kill the goddess. They drank her blood,
ate her flesh. Reveled in the lust of killing.”

  “Then they turned into vampires.”

  “Not yet. I bet you were a bugger to tell bedtime stories too.”

  Haven could not recall anyone ever having told him bedtime stories. He had not had that kind of a childhood. “Go on,” he told Valentine.

  “Goddesses cannot be killed,” she said. “Not even by the darkest of black magic. But they can be pissed off.”

  “I bet.”

  “This goddess returned from the supposed dead and laid a curse on her rebellious followers.”

  “That’s when they became vampires?”

  “Yes. Instead of granting them the gift of immortality, she turned immortality into a curse. They were banished from the daylight. Sunlight was a gift for the mortal world. They were given the constant hunger to hunt and kill the mortals they could not dwell among. They must take lovers that they could not keep. Having your heart constantly broken is part of the curse.” She sighed. “Anyway, that’s how vampires came to be.”

  “Okay.” He finally came to the entrance to the hotel grounds he’d been looking for. “How do Nighthawks come into all this?” He bypassed the front entrance to the Silk Road and pulled into the parking garage.

  As he pulled into a parking spot, Valentine answered, “That, Mr. Haven, is another story.”

  They didn’t have time for more stories. They got out of the Jeep and Haven opened up the back. He opened up the locked metal case where he kept his weapons stash.

  “Impressive,” Valentine commented as he gathered equipment.

  “Thanks. You want any of this?” he questioned as he loaded concealed pockets and strapped on an equipment belt.

  “No, thanks.”

  “Fine.” He shut the case, and slammed the rear door. He paused for a moment, and something that was not fear, but was frighteningly disturbing, rushed like wildfire all the way through him. He let the reaction pass—made it pass.

  He looked at Valentine. “Ready to rock?”

  She didn’t look all that confident herself, but she did smile at him, with an impressive amount of fang showing. “Let’s go.”

  Chapter 18

  “SOMETHING’S WRONG.”

  Haven gave her a wry look, but Valentine could tell he felt it too. There was more than residue and potential magic in the air. There was more than the humming, harsh energy spun off by hordes of gamblers in the casino. There was more than the uneven, tinkling music of the slot machines.

  “It’s hot,” she said.

  He stood very still for a moment, then nodded slowly. “Air-conditioning’s working hard to compensate. Heat a by-product of the magic?”

  “Good thought.”

  They were standing in the center of the lobby, beneath a dome beautifully painted to show the night sky. Mortals were all around them, going about their business. They stood by the front desk, gathered in the furniture groupings set under draping silk canopies. She could detect mortals everywhere, in their rooms, the casinos, the bars, the restaurants, the spas and shops, in the kitchens and corridors. She detected dormant and injured energy coming from the cash vault, the money cages, the security centers. Not a vampire was stirring, which at least meant that she and Haven wouldn’t have to fight off any crazed hunting vampires while they sought out the real source of trouble.

  Too many of the underneath world worked in the hotel, she thought. This kept the place secure from mortal attack. It would likely stop another vampire incursion as well. It was proving horrifically vulnerable in the face of a magical assault.

  “Where’s Ibis?” Valentine wondered, searching for the psychic signature of a strong, ancient vampire. Nothing. Why wasn’t he here to protect his people?

  “What are we waiting for?” Haven interrupted her mental search.

  She brought her focus back to the tough mortal. “Patience is not your strong point, is it?”

  “Is it yours?” was his reply.

  “No,” she had to admit. She’d always been too impulsive.

  “Where to?” he asked.

  “Give me a second.” Valentine concentrated on finding the strongest source of magic, hunting through layers and waves of energy. Mortal emotions, vampire energy signatures. She encountered all sorts of scents and gradations. “Three sources,” she finally told Haven. “You’ve been here before?” He nodded. “Good. Tell me what you know.” She pointed in one direction.

  “Vampire museum is that way,” he answered.

  “Okay. What’s coming from there is mostly latent stuff. Not a threat zone, then.” She pointed again.

  “Uh, saw video screens on this area. Storage rooms, dressing room, I think. The stage magician’s place.”

  “Heat source coming from there,” Valentine said. She shuddered as she drew her mind away from the energy. Heat raced up her skin. She pushed away suspicion for now. “We’re going to have to check that out.”

  She concentrated on the third source of magic, pointed again. There was shielding around this source, but full of pinprick holes that let power leak out.

  “Theater,” Haven said. “Magic show in there.”

  “Real magic show tonight,” she answered. “Real magician. He’s weaving spells. I think we’ve found the cause of the trouble.”

  Haven’s dark eyes suddenly lit with excitement. “Yes! I should have figured this out already. It’s the magician. The vampire gave the spell book to the magician.” He looked totally disgusted. “I’m an idiot. Murphy wanted to get the book back from him, but I didn’t think it was important.”

  Valentine remembered there’d been mention of translated spells as well as the scrolls when Haven told them about Martina’s plot against the Enforcers. “I thought Martina had the translations.”

  “I was there when a vampire gave the spell book to the human magician. Reese. The guy who does his act here in the hotel.”

  “Why would a vampire give up a spell book?”

  “It had something to do with sex,” Haven answered. “Gifts to a new boyfriend. It was stuff taken from the museum. There was the book, a gold cup, and—”

  Valentine watched as the mortal’s deeply tanned skin went pale. “What else?” she demanded, deeply worried by this fearless man’s startling reaction.

  “There was a gemstone. Looked like a ruby. Murphy called it a dragon’s egg. Said it’s used in alchemy.”

  Valentine felt her knees go weak. She would have very much liked to sit down. Or better yet, run away. Her throat constricted with momentary panic. Then she managed to say. “Dragon’s egg. Oh. Fucking. Shit.”

  We are so screwed, she thought. If it’s real. But it can’t be real, because Ibis is not a fool. He couldn’t possibly have put out a—

  “What is it?”

  “Come with me,” she said, and marched in the direction of the theater.

  They cut through the casino, and wove through heavy foot traffic in a shopping mall designed to look like an exotic bazaar, with narrow lanes and closely packed vendors’ stalls. Beyond the mall three corridors met in a wide open area before the theater entrance. Valentine paused before the theater doors and rubbed her chin.

  “Getting hotter,” Haven commented.

  She nodded. She could hear water running in the distance, and didn’t think it had anything to do with decorative fountains. She glanced toward the hallway on their right. The heat was coming from that way. And something that gave her a very bad feeling.

  “What if the place is on fire?” she questioned. “Wouldn’t there be alarms going off? Sprinkler systems working? The fire department notified?”

  Haven followed her gaze, with noticeable reluctance. “Emergency systems are likely set up in sectors. The hotel’s huge, makes sense that alarms would only go off in the trouble spot. Everything would be monitored in the control center.”

  Valentine balled her fists in frustration. “And the command center is currently manned by unconscious nest members.” There was magic swirling and building
behind the closed theater doors, and it wasn’t nice. There was magic coming from down that hall. And—

  “Smoke,” Haven said.

  Valentine sniffed. The smoke was invisible, but it was there. “The place is on fire.”

  “I figured that out.”

  People were all around them. “Nobody else knows. We have to get everyone out of here.”

  “We?”

  “You’re right,” she said, whirling toward the theater doors. She looked over her shoulder at Haven. “You sound the alarm. I’ll take care of the mortal sorcerer.”

  “But—! God damn it!” He pulled a sawed-off shotgun out from under his coat. He aimed toward the ceiling and fired. “All right, people!” he shouted over the sudden screaming. “Listen up!”

  Well, that got everyone’s attention. This was not necessarily a method meant to stave off panic, but Valentine left Jebel Haven to deal with the emergency in his own way. She moved to the doors, and slipped inside the darkened auditorium.

  “Look at me! Look at me!”

  Ben followed the voice. The hunt hunger was growing. That should have made him sharper, but—Reese—the voice up ahead—Reese twisted him. Made the hunger—the beast’s—his—enemy. Couldn’t think and be beast. The closer he got to Reese—the harder it was to think.

  Part of the spell? A way Reese had of controlling him?

  Ben was too stubborn for that. He moved slowly, like swimming through hot tar, but he moved. Moved down halls, through doors, around backstage props. Reese had two assistants. Had. They’d seen Ben. Tried to run. Tried to warn Reese. But Ben was fast. He hadn’t felt them die, but they wouldn’t be getting up for a while. Wouldn’t be warning anyone that beasts were roaming the world.

  Reese wasn’t missing them. He wasn’t doing stage magic tonight. Ben could feel the power gathering. Maybe that was what was sucking the life—the smarts—out of him. Even if he went mad, or lost every grain of intelligence, he was going to get his prey.

  Had to—save the fucking day.

  He got closer to Reese, one step at a time. Now he could hear the voice.

  The voice was saying, “Listen to my voice. Look into my eyes. Let go. Lose yourself. Lose yourself in me.”