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

by Craig Zerf

  ‘It’s not a prison,’ snapped Nathan. ‘It’s a fortress. And how did you know what I was thinking?’

  The Morrigan sighed. ‘What part of, “I Am I God” did you not understand? Really, Nathan, stop being so obtuse.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ conceded the head vampire. ‘Why are you here?’

  The Morrigan held out the small piece of rope, offering it to Nathan.

  The vampire looked puzzled. ‘Is this some sort of binding ritual?’ He asked. ‘Is the rope symbolic of something? Because I’m not sure how intimate I would like us to become. After all, I owe you…but I do not worship you.’

  The Morrigan rolled her eyes. ‘True worship cannot be compelled,’ she said. ‘You, of all people, should know that. No, this is not symbolic. It is actual.’

  ‘An actual piece of rope.’

  ‘Not any old rope,’ said The Morrigan. ‘This is a piece of Poseidon’s net.’

  ‘I thought that Poseidon carried a trident.’

  ‘He does. But he often fought with Zeus, attempting to usurp his throne. However Zeus was too powerful. So Poseidon called upon Hephaestus, the Greek god of the forge, fire, and volcanoes and he asked him to make him a net of gold. A net that would be powerful enough to negate Zeus’ magic and render him helpless. This is part of that net.’

  ‘It’s not gold,’ noted Nathan.

  ‘Obviously,’ admitted The Morrigan. ‘It never was. But a normal rope net would be far too prosaic for the myths and legends. Trust me, this rope is from the actual net.’

  Nathan nodded. ‘I see. Very impressive, I’m sure. But how does that pertain to me?’

  The Morrigan teased a single fiber from the piece of rope. ‘A tiny part, even one as small as this, still has the power of the whole. The magic imbued within, enables every fraction to still be capable of capturing ones opponent.’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Nathan. ‘I’m not getting it.’

  The Morrigan sighed. ‘Put simply, the net itself was just a net. No more or less capable of ensuring Zeus than any other net. However, the powerful binding spells that Hephaestus imbued the rope with made it possible to catch a god. In other words, if you took this piece of fiber and cast it into the blade of a sword or the head of a bullet and then cut, or shot Emily Shadowhunter with it, it would bind her. It would negate her power. Render her helpless. Like she had been drugged. For a time at least.’

  ‘How long?’

  The Morrigan shrugged. ‘Not sure how powerful she is. But long enough to allow you to put additional restraints on her. Titanium shackles, silver chains. That type of thing.’

  ‘What if I wove that fiber into another net or a rope?’ Asked Nathan. ‘Would that bind her as well?’

  ‘Definitely,’ concurred The Morrigan. ‘However, I would suggest a ranged weapon like a rifle. That way you could take her out from a safe distance.’

  ‘How much would I need in each projectile?’

  ‘Theoretically, the tiniest piece would do it. But to be safe I would say an inch long piece of fiber.’

  The Morrigan stripped a few more pieces from the rope and handed them to Nathan. ‘That should give you enough for thirty rounds of ammunition. Use it wisely, it is irreplaceable.’

  Nathan took the strands and peered at them closely. ‘So I shoot her with some of this and then what?’

  ‘She should go into a coma. Freeze. Fall over. I’m not sure; all I know is that it will stop her. Anything designed to stop Zeus can stop anything. What’s wrong? You don’t seem that impressed.’

  ‘Oh, I am,’ countered Nathan. ‘It’s just that I’m wondering how to find her. She won’t fall for the same trick twice and for this to work I’m going to have to set up quite a sophisticated ambush. Snipers, bait, a good field of fire, easy access and an area that suits us more than them. I honestly see no way that I can do that.’

  The Morrigan scowled. ‘I can help with that,’ she admitted begrudgingly.

  And she told Nathan about the Gargoyle guardians and how they were being used as spotters and lookouts.

  ‘But not all Gargoyles,’ she finished. ‘Only the very few sentient ones. So to take advantage of the knowledge you shall have to do some very subtle reconnoitering first, find out where some guardians are and then work it back from there until you have your perfect battleground.’

  Nathan’s eyes flashed with anger. ‘Don’t you think that this is something that you could have told me before? I have lost many brethren due to my ignorance of this fact.’

  The Morrigan stood up. Blue light coruscated around her and she seemed to grow in stature. ‘I am not your servant, Nathan Tremblay. I am not yours to command. Neither am I your ally.’

  ‘Granted,’ admitted the vampire. ‘But we are, at very least, partners.’

  The Morrigan shook her head in denial. ‘We are not even acquaintances. In fact, I despise you and your Brethren. Leeches and destroyers the lot of you.

  But as I said before, I am the goddess of war. Em and William and Merlin and their ilk would have peace for all. As it is, in the modern world I have very few worshippers. Humanity has embraced technological war. War without honor. No longer are a thousand ships launched over passion and lust. Now wars are fought over oil and political expediencies. Over distances by missiles or by skulking cowards using IED’s. I need a war fought between personal protagonists like those of old. Man against man. A war of passion. An honorable war.

  But this war, a war between humanity and the Nosferatu. This will be a war where I shall become known again. From that will stem great power. I could once again become what I was. A god, feared by many, worshiped by all warriors. Only a short while ago I went to the other gods for help. To help the humans. But they turned me down. What was the point they asked? I argued. But now, after much thought, I see their position.’

  Nathan nodded, he understood the draw of power. He knew its heady feel. It's addictive qualities.

  The Morrigan morphed and disappeared. A sneer on her lips.

  Chapter 32

  Sir Jasper assumed the stance of headmaster. Or perhaps Victorian era father. Legs apart, hands behind his back and eyeglasses perched halfway down his nose. On his face an expression of supercilious authority. It was time to put the proverbial foot down and the knight of the realm was about to do so.

  ‘Let me tell you something, William,’ he started. ‘Here, in the United Kingdom, at the height of the Cold War, back in the late sixties, early seventies it was estimated that there were approximately eighty to one hundred Russian spies at any one given time. Some attached to the Embassy, some deep undercover and some double agents. However, the KGB was never actually the omnipotent bogeyman that everyone thinks that it was. In fact, most of the Russian spies were well compromised, and we knew about them. We obviously tried to turn as many as we could. Those who couldn’t be turned met with terminal accidents. I believe as many as ten a month. Sometimes as high as thirty. You see, people forget that the Cold War was an actual war, albeit clandestine.’

  William shifted in his seat. Sir Jasper had insisted that he come to this meeting and now the old plodder was babbling on about the Cold War. The Omega wondered when he was going to get to the point as he glanced surreptitiously at his Rolex.

  ‘We managed to cover up those murders without the public ever suspecting a thing,’ continued the head of Scotland Yard. ‘Now, however, things have gotten out of hand. Ten, twenty a month is easy to handle. But ten or twenty bodies a night? In the age of the internet and CCTV – well, quite frankly it is unsustainable and I’m amazed that the press hasn’t caught on to it yet.’

  Sir Jasper turned to fix William with his sternest glare. ‘So I am afraid that, as of right now, your silly games simply have to stop. It’s over.’

  ‘What about the crime figures?’ Asked William.

  ‘Not important, old chap.’

  ‘Bullshit,’ snapped William. ‘It’s very important.’

  ‘No it is not,’ insisted Jasper. ‘Beca
use that is not what you lot are involved in. You are not crime fighters. Policemen. Bringers of justice. No. You are merely glorified Ghost Busters. Vampire hunters. So stop pretending that you are doing this for the common good. You are doing it for your own means, whatever they may be. And quite frankly, I’m getting tired of taking the political fallout for you and your nefarious ambitions.’

  William sat for a few seconds without moving. Controlling his breathing, willing himself to remain human. Then he spoke. ‘How dare you?’ He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. ‘You weak, pencil pushing pathetic politician. Your irrelevant crime figures are down by over seventy percent. But you might be correct. Maybe that is irrelevant. So let’s talk about the common good.

  Have you ever confronted a vampire? Not Emily, she is a saint. I mean an actual, blood-sucking, murdering, soulless creature of the night? No, of course not. They are like a deadly virus, Jasper. And without someone controlling them they will spread unchecked throughout the whole world like the worst contagion imaginable. The black plague, the Great Influenza Pandemic. Together those two incidents killed over one hundred million people. Now imagine that virus as an intelligent, conniving megalomaniacal entity. Imagine it as an enemy that saw humanity as mere cattle. Or worse. As mere food. At least cattle are treated relatively humanely. And you dare to say that we do not work for the common good.

  Jasper – this is the last time that you will call me to your office. The very last time. If I decide that we need to speak then I shall contact you. And you will continue to clear up whenever we tell you to. Remember, I do not need your permission. We have been fighting this fight for thousands of years. Thousands. We have sacrificed all. Now bear that in mind when you next sleep peacefully at night. When you roam the streets of London at will. When you breathe and eat and play, you do so because of us.

  This isn’t some sort of political power-game. Man up, for god’s sake, Jasper. Man up and do the right thing.’

  ***

  ‘It’s our turn,’ said Bastian. ‘You let Troy run with you but never us. So tonight Sylvian and I are tagging along.’

  ‘It’s not a social outing,’ argued Em.

  ‘Why not?’ Asked the Bloodborn. ‘It could be if we allow it to be. Tell you what, why don’t we take in a few sights, the London Eye, Tower Bridge, The Palace. Then later we’ll stop in at the opera Terrace in Covent Garden for a drink. Maybe a late night dinner at Porters.’

  Emily sighed and then smiled. It was obvious that whatever she said the boys would always find some excuse to accompany her. And she admitted to herself that to refuse would be churlish about. And dinner at Porters, the famous pie shop near to Covent Garden, sounded like fun. ‘Okay,’ she acquiesced. ‘But just you two. Let’s not turn this into some sort of traveling circus.’

  As always they left via the side windows and climbed onto the roof.

  And only a few miles away, within sight of the Gargoyles on the roof of the Natural History Museum, a group of three vampires readied themselves. They were in a dark blue Mercedes Benz and were waiting for the signal that they expected around eleven o’clock. When they got the word, they were to single out a couple of victims and drag them into the receiving area behind the museum. Invisible to all but the Gargoyle guardians that they had ascertained were on the roof of the said museum.

  And on other roofs close to the museum lay three other vampires. All of them accomplished snipers. They had been lying there for two days now, having snuck in under cover of darkness, using utmost stealth so as not to be spotted by the guardians. Each was armed with a L115A3 sniper rifle that used the 8.95mm round fed via a five round box magazine. And every sniper had two full boxes of ammunition. But this was not normal ammunition. Every slug had been hand cast and polished, and in each casting lay a single three inch coiled strand of fiber taken from Poseidon’s net.

  Also, secreted in various apartments, underground parking lots and public conveniences’ situated close to the museum, waited another thirty Bloodwraiths and three Nightwalkers. The Nightwalkers were in a single group together and with them they carried a long length of sturdy rope. And although it looked normal, it was far from it. Nathan had got one of his craftsmen to incorporate two strands of Poseidon’s net into the weft of the rope turning a normal household item into something that would be capable of restraining Emily Shadowhunter on a permanent basis. A binding that even she would be incapable of breaking out of.

  On top of all of this, Nathan had ensured that a few fast cars were waiting close by and, at the London airport in the docks, a private jet stood fueled and on standby. Because once they had captured Emily they were to take her to the jet and fly her to the headquarters in Italy. To Castel Gandolfino, the formal residence of the ex-Capo di tutti capi, Janus Augusta. Here she would be deep in enemy territory and there would be no chance of the Pack finding her let alone rescuing her.

  Then the fun would begin. Then she would pay.

  And now, the perfect trap waited to be sprung.

  Chapter 33

  This was most definitely the best day of Mary’s life. Who would have thought that at the relatively advanced age of fifty-two she would finally find love? And, considering her strict Roman Catholic upbringing, her fanatically strict parents and the fact that her local parish Priest seemed to think that literally everything was a sin – it was even more amazing that the love of her life would turn out to be a middle-aged woman called Petunia Johnston.

  God, her parents would have turned in their graves.

  She and Petunia caught the coach from Canterbury that morning, booked into a hotel near the Natural History Museum and then spent the day with over two thousand like-minded people, joining in a march on parliament demanding that the Anglican Church allow gay marriage. They had waved their “Hate Won’t Stop Us” placards, they had sung songs, and they had danced in the streets. Later they had joined a great group of people at ‘Compton’s of SOHO’ and swapped stories and drunk too much until around half past ten when Petunia suddenly went down on one knee and proposed to her.

  Everyone had cheered and laughed and cried and they had brought a last round of drinks and then decided to head back to their hotel for a little private celebrating.

  They had just walked past the entrance to the museum when a car pulled up next to them. The doors opened and the next thing that they knew they were sitting in the car. Both of them had a severe case of whiplash and their bodies felt as though they had gone through a three minute round with Mike Tyson. This was because the human body is not designed to move or accelerate at the implausible speeds that the Nosferatu work at and, as such, when they had gone from standing to moving at over fifty meters per second there had been obvious skeletal and muscular trauma.

  The Bloodwraiths didn’t care. Their only brief had been to select, kidnap and deliver the chosen ones alive to the receiving area behind the museum.

  This they did.

  The Mercedes stopped outside the gated and walled receiving area and the Bloodwraiths simply picked the two women up and threw them over the fifteen foot wall. On the other side they were expertly fielded and caught by another group of bloodsuckers.

  At this stage both Mary and Petunia were simply too shocked and traumatized to be afraid. Adrenalin had momentarily wiped out fear. A state that was soon to be remedied.

  Bloodwraith Martin Thomas stood above the two women and extended his fangs. Petunia stood up and moved in front of Mary, raising her arms protectively as if to ward off the vampire.

  Martin laughed, and he reached forward, grabbed Petunia’s right index finger…and pulled it off like he was plucking a ripe fruit from a vine. The other two Bloodwraiths laughed with him. They loved it when the food fought back.

  Martin had received no particular instructions from the Capo. His leader had simply conveyed to him that he should invoke fear and pain in equal measures but to keep the victims alive until the girl and her wolf, or wolves, arrived. From then on in it was simple. Kill whoever
was with the girl and let the snipers take the girl out. When she had been incapacitated, throw her over the wall so that she could be evacuated.

  It was obvious to Martin that the woman who had stood up was the dominant of the two so he decided that he would inflict a little more pain on her as this would definitely invoke more terror from the other. With that in mind he grabbed her by her face and dragged her close to him, exposing her neck so that he could sink his fangs in and feed.

  The sitting woman went apoplectic with terror.

  Martin stopped before he killed his victim and then, using his razor sharp talons, he cut her blouse from her body, exposing her naked flesh. Then he started to do the same to her skin, literally flaying it from her body.

  There was an explosion of movement in the air and Martin’s head ceased to exist. Disappearing in a red mist as Emily’s fist impacted with it at a speed that was substantially above that of the speed of sound. Petunia fell to the floor next to her partner.

  Moments later two more beings leapt from the roof into the receiving yard. Neither of the newcomers were wolves.

  But before they could do anything, Em had dispatched the last two vampires by simply slamming them into the walls so hard that they became mere sacks of broken bone and flesh.

  Emily knelt down next to the two women. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘You’re safe now.’

  But as she spoke the first sniper round impacted, striking her under her right shoulder blade. The heavyweight 8.95mm lead rounds had been doctored so that they expanded on impact, mushrooming in size so that they didn’t exit the body. Staying inside in order to impart their binding magic to the victim.

  Emily grunted and fell forward.

  ‘Sniper,’ shouted Sylvian.

  There was another meaty thud as a second round struck Emily in the side of her torsos. Then a third impact.

  And the Bloodwraiths came pouring over the walls. Ten, twenty, thirty of them.