by Eve Langlais
“I need to go to him.” She spun away from the window.
But Dyer’s hand at her shoulder pinned her back to the glass. “You’d just get in the way.”
Also true. The cold of oncoming night seeped through to Avery’s spine. She had agreed to observe from the bar. Hugo’s battle plan had called for an upper–level watch, but she suspected she’d been chosen for the task merely because she–simple human that she was–wasn’t suited for any other. Even the reclusive Barrows had a patrol route assigned to him; not such a threat to his privacy since no one on the street would even know who he was.
Still, Avery grabbed Tira’s wrist hard enough to bend tendons, and she was gratified to see the other woman’s eyes widen in surprise. “Having a witness to the festivities is not important compared to making sure this doesn’t turn into a bloodbath,” she snapped. “There are people–humans, like you used to be–out there. And they have no one besides Hugo and your ravpyrii to get them safely through the night. If there’s anything I can do, I have to.”
The other woman studied her for a long moment. Her grip loosened. “Go then. But you’ll probably die too.”
“Someday,” Avery agreed and gave the other woman an arch look.
Tira snorted. “At last check, Hugo was outside the back service entrance where the parade will begin.”
Avery nodded. Her legs, so shaky just a moment before, tensed to take her off at a run, but she held herself back. “I don’t know how you became ravpyrii, but it doesn’t have to be a curse.”
With another snort, Tira stalked away. “I am not your dark lover with his fatalistic heart. What I am now is worlds away from what I was then, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Since she was already out of earshot, Avery didn’t bother reminding her that even for the deathless, change was coming.
She raced through the casino toward the rear of the building, swearing breathlessly at the gargantuan proportions of all the casinos, each one trying to outdo the last.
And ComeTrue might very well be the last.
She felt it must be nearing midnight but her phone showed only fifteen minutes had elapsed before she burst out through the back doors of the service entrance. The loading bay overlooked the vastly less impressive side of Las Vegas. A passing train headed for the rail yard, and she wondered about the people going about their lives on this Christmas Eve, working, cooking, wrapping presents for tomorrow morning. Maybe some didn’t care about the holiday at all. Little did any of them know…
Flood lights glared over the scene behind the casino, and she might have guessed the battle had already happened except the voices were calling out with expectation and humor. A big man in a Santa suit with what looked like a very real beard and an even more real belly was “ho–ho–ho”ing loud enough to drown out the train and the chattering, somewhat scantily clad girl elves around him, so Avery didn’t bother calling out Hugo’s name, she just dove into the Christmas chaos.
The evergreen forest, laden with sparkling ornaments and garlands of holly, and the gingerbread cottages–she even recognized the one that had been the imp’s high ground–were all mounted on parade floats. As cheerful as they were, especially with the glitter machines tossing out test puffs of “snow” and the bracing scent of clove, they created their own miniature city, packed with people. And Hugo was somewhere among them.
Halting in her tracks beneath a road sign that said “North Pole–3723 miles”, Avery closed her eyes and let out a slow breath.
Tira Dyer said Hugo hadn’t taken enough of Avery’s mélange, and she’d been horrified to think that might be true. But now she wondered. How could something so strong between them not be enough?
It was stupid to think that, of course. All her childhood wishing for her mother to be “normal” hadn’t been enough. All her searching in the past years had yielded no results. Even trying to forget had been a bust. How much proof did she need that simply wanting was no certainty of receiving? Plenty of kids tomorrow morning would back her up on that.
And yet…
What she had with Hugo defied the cynicism she’d first cultivated to protect herself from the stories her mother had told her and the dispassionate impartiality that had been part of her self–image as a journalist. She couldn’t protect herself from what she felt for Hugo–she didn’t want to.
“I want you,” she murmured.
She turned a slow, blind circle, wanting him with all her body and soul.
Then she opened her eyes and walked toward her heart.
***
Hugo stepped out of the path of a snowstorm. The acrobats were bedecked head to toe in brilliant white and blue costumes, symmetrical spokes arrayed like ice crystals, and still they managed running leaps and launched each other from their shoulders as if the laws of nature didn’t apply to them. Despite the exertion, their grins never faltered.
No wonder the phae had chosen this place to unleash their magic.
And no wonder the queen wanted it for herself.
As the acrobatic snowflakes headed down the street, a full band burst into tune and followed behind them. Christman Eve at ComeTrue was officially underway.
Hugo kept his gaze always in motion, looking for the ugly gray flicker of an imp–or the awful glory of the Undone Queen herself.
Yelena had said they had no idea how strong the deposed queen would be. She lacked the amassed might of the court behind her, but she was still phae royalty, with the power that implied, and she had taken violent and malevolent beings with her. Worse, she was no longer bound by the laws of the phaedrealii that had kept their most potent powers restrained.
Anything was possible. He never appreciated how such a seemingly hopeful phrase could contain so much warning.
Though the radio earpiece Dyer had given him, he heard the other ravpyrii checking in, but he kept silent. He had nothing to add. Yet. Although the small hairs at his nape prickled in unease.
He turned a slow circle, scanning. The band was most of the way out onto the street, their music echoing joyfully under the canopy. A troupe of dancers in red and white striped leotards were wending their way between the musicians, throwing candy canes–some the size of his hooked finger, some as large as his arm–to the happy crowd.
Their simple pleasure, both the crowd’s and the performers’, swept over him in the same hues of bright cheery red and shining white. But underneath the fun beat a darker pulse in shadowed hues: crimson and crystal, blood and bone, fire and killing frost…
For a heartbeat, his throat closed with the remembered horror of the curse reaching out to swallow him whole. Then he growled softly, knowing the microphone would send his words to the others: “She’s here.”
Chapter Fourteen
The ravpyrii shouts in his ear didn’t slow him as he pushed through the crowd. “I don’t see anything!” “Are you sure?” “What are we looking for? What is it?”
How could their ravpyrii senses not resound with the oncoming swell of destruction? Apparently they’d been living in the desert too long to recognize tidal waves, or none of them had been cursed as brutally as he’d been.
There! “In the middle of the service street,” he snapped. “The float with the Christmas trees and holly. They’ve grown up in a ring. It’s a phae portal.”
“But they can’t grow,” someone said plaintively through his earpiece. “They’re fake trees. Everything in the parade is fake.”
“Well, they’re fucking real now,” Hugo said. He wondered if Avery would appreciate his newfound mastery of her inappropriate language.
He also wondered if he’d ever see her again, at least long enough for one last kiss and a chance to apologize for being too paralyzed to reach for what she’d offered. And then she’d kill him for saying sorry. But he’d rather die at her hand than any other way.
He charged onward, trying to get through the throng as quickly as possible without triggering a panic. Even from half a street away, he sucked down a breath red
olent with the fragrance of pine needles. And another scent… Something much too wild and unearthly sweet. With an undertone of death.
“The gate is opening,” he said. “She knows we’ve found her and she’s not waiting to make an entrance.”
“Fewer witnesses though. Maybe we can still contain this.” Barrows’ voice came not from Hugo’s earpiece but beside him. The ravpyr matched his relentless pace.
Hugo sidelonged a glance, not sure whether to be annoyed or amused at the other male’s relentless urge to control their deteriorating situation. “You know how to close a phae portal?”
“I was hoping to delegate that to you.”
“Gate magic is notoriously fickle, even for the phae themselves. That’s how unsuspecting humans fall in and trickster phae escaped even over the millennia when the court was locked tight.”
Barrows huffed. “If it’s really that capricious, we should be able to destabilize it ourselves.” He touched his earpiece. “Tira, tell the marshal to delay the forest float, and then get the rest of the parade down Fremont as far and as fast as possible. Have the band play Flight of the Bumblebee double speed for all I care. Once you open some space, kill the lights between the forest and the rest of the parade. And trigger the canopy show now. Hopefully that’ll keep the crowds focused away from us.” He paused, obviously listening to her response. “Well, hopefully Santa Claus is wearing a diaper under that suit because he’s on the wrong side of the parade, and shit is about to get stupid.”
Even as they strode forward, the lights clicked out. Behind them, the crowd on Fremont cheered as the music swelled, and a rainbow of light blossomed across the canopy that covered the street.
The backwash of garish colors turned the sudden pool of darkness into something mysterious and threatening. The performers and casino employees trapped in the stalled section of parade on the far side of the shadow milled uncertainly, and Hugo wondered what Dyer was telling the marshal to tell them. Maybe a panic wouldn’t be such a bad thing now, before the gate was wide open. Some humans might die in the stampede, but–
A flash of red over deep green on the other side almost made him stumble.
“What is she doing down here?” Dread pumped the blood he’d taken from her through his veins, only sharpening his horror. “She’s supposed to be on the other side of the casino, above this.”
Barrows followed his gaze. “Your little human doesn’t take orders very well. Why didn’t you compel her?”
Hugo cast him a disgruntled glance. “Have you ever actually tried that on someone?”
“Well, no. I don’t keep them around long enough to need it. But I’ve seen it in the movies.”
Not dignifying that with an answer, Hugo abandoned the other ravpyr and plunged into the shadow.
His ravpyrii eyes adjusted almost instantly, but in the gloom, the squat gray bulk of the imps was almost invisible. The first one stabbed at his chest before he could shout. Only his preternatural speed saved him from a debilitating blow. He slammed his hand to his earpiece even as he slid the long knife from his other sleeve.
“The gate is open,” he said. “I have imps already on the ground, and who the hells knows what else. Everybody, get your asses over here.”
He brought the knife overhand in a savage blow. The stinking sizzle of the iron blade in the imp’s eye was all but lost in the deafening shriek of the second imp behind it. The phae drew two of its legs through its clattering scales, drawing forth another macabre wail, even as it vaulted on its third leg toward Hugo’s face.
He dragged his second longer knife free from its sheath at his spine and swore as a dozen imp cries joined the other from the darkness.
He was surrounded.
***
Avery saw Hugo disappear into the place where the lights had gone out, and then she lost sight of him. She jolted forward, to go after him, but a horrible ululating scream she recognized too well stopped her in her rhinestoned tracks. There was one moment of silence, then hell broke loose around her.
The humans in their various costumes fled in all directions, or would have, except the ravpyrii, easily picked out in their security basic black, were charging in. The crash of the two forces brought everything to a momentary standstill.
And Avery found herself facing the pine and holly forest as an eerie substance–not smoke or fog, but something like a moth–eaten veil of light shot through with threads of sulfurous yellow–swirled up from the center of the ring.
A gate to the phaedrealii.
If only her mother was here to see this. Except she probably had already seen it. And maybe even now she was watching from the other side.
The thought was completely unlikely, and yet it drew her forward. So she was standing at the base of the forest float when the first creatures exploded from the moth–yellow light.
Vampire bats! The instantaneous comparison almost made her laugh aloud. A freaked–out laugh, admittedly. Leathery black wings burst from their dark shoulders and spread wide, fanning the stench of ashes. They were as tall as Hugo, or taller even, and equally masculine, which she noted because they were naked except for the bandoliers strapped across their chests over streaks of toxic yellow.
Four of the terrifying ebony warriors exited the circle, hovering in the air above the miniature forest, as the moth–light doubled and then redoubled again. Glitter whirled in a scintillating haze, caught in the vortex of collapsing air.
Something big was coming.
The human/ravpyrii standstill broke as the humans caught sight of the impossible tableau, but the screams were lost in the boom of music from Fremont. Still, Avery couldn’t imagine anyone would miss what was going on here.
Because this was definitely magic.
And despite the glitter, it was most definitely of the dark and twisted kind.
The fleeing humans had scattered chunks of the float and pieces of the costumes. From where she stood, Avery saw a handful of people on the ground, some crawling, a few not moving at all. Trampled or unconscious, she wasn’t sure and couldn’t check.
Because the queen was coming.
The moth–light belled wider yet, engulfing half the service street. Certainly everyone on Fremont would come… But Avery was frozen, staring up at the light.
She remembered this. From when she was young, very young. Her mother lifting her high in an unsteady grip, saying, “See, baby? Dreams do come true.”
Never had that possibility appealed less than this very moment.
She gripped the glaive in her hand. She’d grabbed the weapon from the suite on her way to the docks and been shocked at its weight, the heavy heft of the solid wooden shaft still not enough to counter the massive iron blade. But despite her grumbling on her way down, now it felt much too flimsy and she would have been delighted to have two. Or three.
Actually, she needed four, one for each demon warrior…
No, five. Because the bitch about to make an entrance had stolen her mother. On Christmas Eve oh–so long ago.
Dragging in a lungful of air sharpened with pitch and ice, she took a step into the ring of trees.
But her raging blood curdled when the wolves howled.
Chapter Fifteen
They emerged from the darkness first as yellow eyes, brighter than suns to Hugo’s ravpyrii sight. Then the wolves and coyotes swarmed over the imps. The werelings were fast and they were many. They had the imps pinned in moments.
Barrows appeared with a second man at his side. The stranger’s long hair was the same dusty brown as the coyotes, and his eyes in his wide mestizo face were every bit as gold. The sword in his hand was black iron.
Between the three of them, they dispatched the imps in a cacophony of screams. Before the last was dead, Hugo was already racing for the cloud of phae magic mushrooming from the gate.
Avery!
She stood, a dark curved figurine between the straight trees and the sinister glow. His heart slammed against his chest in panic, as if it could get
to her without him.
As if she had his heart already.
The gate stood open, and a quartet of dark hunters–the phae royalty’s private guard–circled the tattered column of light. The hunters were vastly more powerful than the imps and had the advantage of flight besides. But they were nothing before their queen.
She emerged like death in winter, shredding the magic around her, her slender form white as a distant star, her wings as wide as all four of her hunters combined and red as a thousand battlefields. He stumbled and went to one knee with the force of her presence.
Behind him, a chorus of yelps told him the werelings had been similarly and unceremoniously stopped.
“Ravpyr.” Her voice was at once all–encompassing and right in his ear. Nearly stabbing himself in the head with his iron blade, he tore out the earpiece. But of course she didn’t need such modern trickery.
Not when she had her own.
“Ravpyr.” Censure edged her tone, as if he was still one of her creatures, though lower than the least of her courtiers. “The emotions you once drained from my phae have been freed. As I have been. I no longer require your service.”
There’d been a time when those were the only words he wanted to hear. “And it is no longer yours to command, lady.”
Her face reminded him of the pointy–chinned, bulbous–eyed image on Avery’s shirt. Instead of hair, a nimbus of writhing tendrils surrounded her head, bleeding off into the space around her.
And the blackness of the queen’s eyes was bottomless. “Ah,” she said. “You gave yourself to my usurper.”
“You left me nowhere else to go.”
She smiled. “Shall you join me now?”
If he’d wanted a winter death…
“No!”
Avery pushed between the trees, the glaive in her hand tearing through the garlands of holly.
Hugo’s other knee hit the concrete as he wavered. How could she confront the queen? Not only was it madness, she should have been held in thrall as he was.