Emily Shadowhunter 4 - a Vampire, Shapeshifter, Werewolf novel.: Book 4: DAY WALKER

by Craig Zerf

  ‘Yes Mister Stopes.’

  ‘Another small favor. You got a blade on you?’

  ‘Of course, Mister Stopes.’

  ‘Good man. Cut off Harry’s right thumb. Just a small reminder, wouldn’t want him to forget his meeting tomorrow.’

  Ben nodded.

  Harry started to scream.

  ***

  While Mister Stopes was carrying out his particular style of business management, Coldstone the gargoyle was contacting Emily again. After a short discourse she ran into the kitchen looking for Latobias.

  He was sitting at the table sipping tentatively at a mug of Tag’s tea. The big man was smiling. ‘Told you so. You mustn’t settle for that weak-ass tea that you been drinking. Gods should have proper tea. So strong that you can see the flavor. Lots of milk. Lots of sugar.’

  The Celtic god of wind grimaced but persevered.

  ‘Latobias,’ called Emily. ‘We’ve got eyes on. A group of vamps in a village in Essex. Next to the Stour river. How long to get us there?’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ grunted the god.

  ‘How?’ Asked Em. ‘It took ten minutes to get to get to St. Ives, and that’s only a quarter of the distance.’

  ‘Ten minutes,’ repeated Latobias. Then he closed his eyes, downed the tea and smiled. ‘Not bad, all things considered.’

  Tag grinned.

  ‘Right, suit up,’ commanded Em. ‘Find Sylvian, Muller and Bastian if you can. I’ll get Troy.’

  ‘Can I bring Missus Jones?’ Asked the big man.

  ‘How could I break up such a meaningful relationship?’ Questioned Em. ‘Bring her, but keep her quiet unless we really need her.’

  Tag nodded and left at a run.

  Minutes later they were in the air heading north, the ground below them speeding by at an impossible rate.

  ‘How fast are we going?’ Asked Bastian.

  ‘As fast as we need to,’ answered Latobian.

  ‘Could you go faster?’

  The god nodded. ‘I could. You couldn’t. Nor could the machinery.’

  ‘How much faster?’ Continued Bastian.

  Latobian didn’t answer.

  Bastian asked again but then it became obvious to him that Latobian wasn’t going to answer. In fact he was utterly ignoring the Shadowhunter as if he weren’t even there.

  Exactly ten minutes after they had taken off the helicopter flared down in a clearing next to the river.

  Em concentrated and called on the gargoyle that was directing them. ‘Veldspar?’

  ‘I hear you, guardian,’ he responded.

  ‘Where are they?’

  ‘Next to the docks there is a camp site. Small wooden houses. Some of them are occupied. I can see them from the top of the church spire. The Nosferatu are heading down through the surrounding woodlands towards the occupied cabins.’

  ‘How many?’

  ‘Six.’

  ‘Thanks, keep an eye out for any more. Right, guys,’ continued Em. ‘Follow me.’

  ‘Not so fast this time,’ urged Tag. ‘Me and Missus Jones prefer the slow and steady method and at the rate that you travel things be all done by the time we get there.’

  Emily winked and took off, her speed turning her into a mere glimmer of light in the darkness. A veritable will-o-wisp flickering through the forest.

  ‘Shit,’ shouted Tag. ‘Get after her,’ he gestured at Sylvian and Troy. ‘We’ll follow.’

  The Bloodborn and the Wolfman accelerated to top speed, Bastian followed close behind, his Shadowhunter enhanced speed allowing him to almost keep up with them.

  Behind them ran Tag and Muller, arms pumping, breathing like steam engines.

  By the time that Troy and Sylvian caught up with Emily it was all over. The six vamps lay scattered about her like dolls after a child’s tantrum. Not one limb was still attached. Not one head still rest atop its own body. Even their torsos were cleft in twain.

  And Em was covered from head to toe in blood.

  She looked up at them and grinned, her white teeth a shocking contrast to the deep red gore that coated her face. ‘Hey, look at the Johnny come latelys,’ she said with a laugh. ‘Sorry, guys. Early bird gets the worm and all that. Weren’t enough to go around. Better luck next time.’ She absent mindedly flicked her axe at a severed head, loping off its nose. ‘Oops,’ she giggled.

  Bastian came running up and stopped, his face a picture of horror. ‘Good God, Emily,’ he gasped. ‘What have you done? I mean, why?’

  Em turned to face him. ‘What have I done? I would think that is a little obvious, Bastian. I have killed a group of blood sucking monsters before they killed any more innocent human beings.’

  Bastian nodded. ‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But…’ he gestured at the bloody carnage. ‘Was this necessary?’

  ‘Dead is dead, Bastian. Or would you prefer to make them go sit on the naughty step and promise not to feed on any humans again?’ Emily took a step towards him. Her eyes blazed with an inner red light. ‘Is that what you would prefer,’ she yelled.

  Bastian fell to his knees, grabbing his head with both hands as he did so. ‘Stop, Em. It hurts.’

  Em swept her gaze over Sylvian and Troy. ‘And you two? Would you also like to treat these monsters with kid gloves?’

  Both the Bloodborn and the Wolfman took a step back as Emily’s savage coercion smashed into them, flaying their minds with power. Then they too dropped to their knees.

  Tag and Muller came staggering to a halt, breathing hard and took in the scene with shocked faces. Muller ran up to Emily and grabbed her by the shoulders. ‘Stop,’ he shouted. ‘You’re killing them.’

  But Em merely growled and punched him in the center of his chest, hammering him into a tree and rendering him unconscious.

  Tag stood in front of her and shook his head. ‘Don’t do it, girly,’ he said softly. ‘Tag, he be your friend. Just calm down.’

  But Emily was too far gone. She raised her hands to strike.

  Then there was a massive implosion of air as Latobian suddenly appeared in front of her.

  The Daywalker turned her coercion on the god. ‘Step aside,’ she growled. ‘I mean them no harm, they merely need to learn their place. I am The Daywalker. They are nothing.’

  Latobian spread his arms wide and a wall of wind swept towards Emily, spinning and turning, it surrounded her until she was in the eye of a mini tornado. She lashed out at it with her axe but to no avail.

  Then the wind god gestured towards Troy. ‘You can communicate with her,’ he said. ‘Talk to her.’

  The wolf nodded as he concentrated on the Pack connection with the Daywalker. But he sensed straight away that mere discussion would achieve naught. Instead he focused on feelings. Emotions. Shared moments.

  His feelings for her.

  And Emily dropped to her knees with a cry of anguish.

  Immediately the wind stopped.

  Troy ran forward and put his arms around the teenage girl, holding her softly as she wept.

  ‘What am I becoming?’ She asked as she looked into the young wolf’s eyes.

  Troy shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Help me,’ she whispered. ‘Please.’

  And Troy picked her up and carried her back to the helicopter followed by the rest of the team.

  By the time they got back to the aircraft, Emily was in a dead sleep, her breathing slow and deep. Troy leaned her against the side of the copter and sat next to her, keeping his arms around her.

  ‘Hey, wind-man,’ said Tag as Latobian took off. ‘Not sure what you did back there but thanks. Things were getting unraveled real quick and I for one didn’t know what to do next.’

  ‘Me too,’ added Bastian. ‘Man, when she grabbed my brain I would have done anything that she told me to. Anything. It’s like someone took away all thought and reason and replaced it with a deep need to do whatever she wanted. And it hurt like hell.’ He turned to Latobian. ‘How come it didn’t affect you?’

>   Latobian raised an eyebrow. ‘I am a god.’

  ‘Oh, true,’ conceded Bastian. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘Nothing to apologize for,’ responded the wind god. ‘Truth be told, it was a close run thing. I am not sure how much longer I could have resisted her. She is, beyond doubt, the most powerful mortal that I have ever come across. And I have been around for a very, very long time.’

  ‘How long to get home?’ Asked Sylvian.

  Latobias tilted his head to one side and smirked slightly.

  ‘Oh, of course,’ muttered Sylvian. ‘Ten minutes.’

  The god nodded. ‘Ten minutes.’

  Chapter 11

  The council of Elders had rejected Nathan’s plan out of hand. In fact, they had barely allowed him to start talking before they started shaking their heads in disapproval.

  ‘Too risky,’ they had said. ‘Unnecessary,’ they had chided him. ‘The Nosferatu already had enough wealth. Enough power. What they needed now was patience, not open warfare with the humans.’

  ‘But the Potestatum,’ he had said. Playing his trump card.

  ‘There are other ways to seek the relic,’ they had informed him. ‘Ways that were far less confrontational.’

  And then they had dismissed him like an errant schoolboy at the headmaster’s office. Indulgent smiles on their faces and weakness in their hearts.

  Needing time alone, Nathan had run into the forests that surrounded the lodge. He had come across a herd of deer and had launched himself at them, ripping and tearing. Killing for killing’s sake.

  Then he sat amongst the animal corpses and screeched his frustration at the moon. Cursing the Capo and his acolytes. Swearing to himself that he would have revenge for their petty attitudes, for their disdain. Vowing that he would take the Nosferatu into battle against humanity. His hatred and anger was a palpable thing. And that, combined with the dozen animals he had just inadvertently sacrificed to his own altar of war, reached out and called.

  It called for help. It called for power.

  It called out to the gods of war.

  And one of them answered.

  A massive crow appeared in the air in front of the ex-Shadowhunter/vampire. Fully ten feet across and surrounded by a nimbus of glowing blue light. It hovered in the still air, wings not moving, it’s black and soulless eyes staring at him.

  Nathan flinched in surprise. ‘What the hell are you?’

  The crow cocked its head to one side and then folded its wings to land on the ground where it flowed into the shape of an ancient woman.

  ‘Many know me as Freya, others as Ogoun or Agriona. Some as Morgana or, Morgan la Fey. Others call upon me as, The Morrigan.’

  ‘The goddess of war,’ breathed Nathan. ‘What are you doing here?’

  ‘You called me, child,’ responded the Morrigan. ‘By sacrifice and by need you called. And I answered.’

  ‘Sacrifice?’

  The goddess gestured towards the piles of dead deer stacked about the vampire.

  Nathan nodded. ‘They were less sacrifice and more fit of pique,’ he admitted.

  ‘It matters not,’ assured the Morrigan. ‘You offered up lives and you called out. Strangely enough, Nathan Tremblay, I have been looking for you. And now, in the most delicious of ironies, you found me.’ The old woman shrugged. ‘But so is life. Full of contradictions and wrong turns, suffice to say that as long as the game is being played there are no incorrect moves. So, tell me, young vampire, what is your heart’s desire?’

  ‘Power,’ answered Nathan without need for thought.

  ‘So human,’ said the Morrigan sadly. ‘Always power. You have been given the gift, or curse, of near immortality,’ she said. ‘And instead of striving to use that time for the furtherment of mankind you choose instead to rule. To decree. To subjugate. How disappointingly human of you.’

  ‘I am not human,’ argued Nathan.

  The Morrigan waved her hand. ‘Close enough. Closer than you even realize. Well,’ she continued. ‘You called. Talk to The Morrigan about your quest for power and she will see if she deigns to help.’

  So Nathan, feeling that he had little to lose, confided in the Morrigan, telling her his plans, his ambitions and the spurning of them by the committee of Elders.

  And finally of his inability to combat the Capo due to the superior strength of the ancient vampire.

  The Morrigan listened.

  ‘I shall help,’ she said.

  Nathan sneered. ‘How?’ He asked. ‘And even if you could, what would I owe you?’

  The goddess shrugged. ‘Would the cost matter?’

  Nathan laughed. ‘True. Probably not. Go ahead then, old woman. Tell me your plan.’

  The Morrigan smiled and morphed into her guise of Morgan la Fey. Tall, beautiful. Beguiling.

  Nathan gasped in wonder and lust.

  ‘I shall gift you with the power of Eris,’ she said. ‘It brings with it the ability to sow fear and discord in the minds of even the most powerful of adversaries. This will render them weak and disoriented. Open to a strike. But use it frugally for it is a limited gift. The human physiogamy, even one as upgraded as yours, can retain only enough power for one use.’

  ‘How do I use it?’ Asked Nathan.

  ‘You shall know when the time comes,’ reassured the Morrigan.

  ‘Will it allow me to defeat the Capo?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ answered the Morrigan. ‘If your will is strong enough. If your desire is deep enough.’

  ‘It is,’ insisted Nathan.

  ‘I believe you,’ said the Morrigan as she faded back into the form of a giant crow and slowly drifted up through the forest canopy and into the night sky. Her mood full of satisfaction. It had been an unbelievable stroke of luck that the vampire had been calling for her just as she was attempting to track down his whereabouts. And now she had turned the game more to her liking. Escalating it my many magnitudes.

  For was she not the goddess of war? If it were up to Merlin and his cohorts, she would be a mere goddess of minor scuffles and inconveniences. Small battles between groups of vampires and wolves. Deaths that numbered in the single or low double figures. A game that was hardly worth playing.

  But now, by giving Nathan more power, she had opened up the vista. She had escalated the conflict. With the psychotic ex-Shadowhunter in charge of the Nosferatu there would be a tenfold increase in violence. Untold more bloodshed. Deaths in the triple or even quadruple figures.

  The streets would run red with blood and her power would increase exponentially.

  Of course she would never ultimately side with the vampires. Well, she didn’t think that she would, she saw no reason to…but that was the future and the Morrigan lived in the now.

  And behind her, in the forest, Nathan Tremblay smiled as his future stretched out on front of him.

  His very own blood-drenched road to Eldorado.

  Chapter 12

  Emily sat on the edge of the sofa, her legs pulled up, arms wrapped around them. She had stopped weeping but her eyes were still puffy and red-rimmed.

  The Prof and Merlin stood uncomfortably in the center of the room. Both of the old men were packing their pipes. A sure sign that neither actually wanted to talk and were putting off the inevitable.

  ‘Someone say something,’ said Emily, her voice barely above a whisper.

  ‘Well, it’s the Potestatum,’ ventured the Prof.

  ‘Obviously,’ agreed Merlin.

  ‘It’s…umm… very powerful,’ continued the Prof. ‘Allegedly part of the blade of Excalibur. Actually, Merlin would know more about that than me.’

  ‘Yes, thank you, Professor.’

  ‘My pleasure.’

  ‘Look, Emily, I’m afraid that I don’t have very good news,’ said Merlin. ‘The simple fact is that you have been merged with an elemental power that has changed you on a physical and mental level. It has done the impossible by curing you of the Vampire virus, inuring you against its ill effects and at the same time
increasing your strength and speed to quiet phenomenal levels. But, in doing so it has pushed you capabilities beyond those that a human being is capable of operating under. Fortunately, strictly speaking, you are not one hundred percent human. You are a Shadowhunter. The last in a long line of. This alone is keeping you alive under such great stresses. So, what the Potestatum is doing to ensure your survival is that it is making you less human and in doing so, ensuring your survival. Do you understand?’

  Emily nodded. ‘So what you are saying is that, instead of being a blood-sucking monster the Potestatum is turning me into a megalomaniacal, self serving, narcissistic, amoral monster that will soon not retain even a speck of humanity.’

  ‘Exactly,’ agreed the Prof. ‘Well surmised, young girl.’

  ‘Professor, shut up,’ snapped Merlin.

  The Prof looked hurt but did stop speaking.

  ‘What can we do?’Asked Em.

  ‘I don’t know,’ admitted Merlin. ‘If we had another piece of the blade, perhaps. Some other source of power. I’m so sorry, my girl. I would ask The Morrigan for her counsel but she has been away, god knows where. I have sent out a seeking spell but to no avail. The only advice that I can give is, fight it. Fight those feelings. Remember your humanity, hang onto it at all costs. We are all here to help. You are surrounded by those who love you. Remember that at all times.’

  ‘Platitudes,’ murmured Emily. ‘You’re asking me to piss on the fire of London in an attempt to put it out.’

  Merlin frowned at Emily’s choice of words but didn’t deny it. There was no point in lying. He put his hand on her shoulder. ‘We shall keep trying,’ he assured her. ‘Trust me, between the Prof and I we have many centuries of knowledge. We will find a way to control this thing.’

  Emily nodded, stood up and left the room, closing the door behind her.

  ***

  That night Coldstone contacted her. ‘Three vamps,’ he informed in his gravelly voice. ‘Small village outside Salisbury. They seem to be planning to feed on a group of people dressed as druids, heading for Stonehenge.’