by Ramy Vance
“Deirdre,” I said, urgency in my voice. “Now!” I turned to see that, whereas the fae warrior was facing the airport, she wasn’t watching anything. She was frozen, her face void of all expression as her arms hung limp at her sides.
“What the—” I started when Enoch walked outside. He held what looked like a silver coin the size of a tea plate in his hand, and I would have dismissed it as such except for the rune on its surface.
“The Celtic god, Alator, knew that his creations were particularly willful,” he rasped, strolling out of the airport like he had all the time in the world.
Not only did he stroll out like he wasn’t in the middle of a fight, but no one else exited the airport with him. No security, no henchmen … Hell, there weren’t even any tourists or travelers. No one.
That isn’t to say that no one was around. A family was hugging goodbye not ten feet from where we stood. Another couple bickered within earshot. Meanwhile, a taxi drove up and let out a woman with way too little luggage to be travelling anywhere far. She strolled right past us like we didn’t exist.
Hell, I could even see an Okinawan security guard pacing on the other side of a sliding door.
This guy must have cast some serious mojo on this place to hide us like that. He was one seriously souped-up villain. But that wasn’t what scared me the most.
He was alone because he wanted to be alone.
And he was completely unafraid. Which meant that either he was overconfident … or he knew without a shadow of a doubt that we posed no threat.
“You see, elves, halflings, changelings—all of the fae,” he rasped, “they possess great power and even greater passion. For unlike most Others, they were built on the principle of love. And love, as you well know, makes us do very silly things.” Then, as if contemplating something esoteric, added, “In many ways, I believe that the fae are humans’ closest cousin. Evolutionarily speaking.”
He chuckled at his own joke, which given his condition, sounded more like a flooded engine turning over.
“Whether I am right or not, there is no denying that the fae, like humans, are oft led astray by their principles. So Alator knew it to be inevitable that, from time to time, a few upstarts would challenge his dominion. That is why he created this.”
He lifted the silver disk to the middle of his chest, and with every inch that stone rose, Deirdre lowered herself until she was on her knees.
“No fae can resist this spell, with this side subduing the upstart. And as for this side …” He turned the coin, revealing another rune. This one looked like a child’s drawing of a tent with stick-figure people hovering above. As soon as Deirdre saw it, she stood up, clenching her fists. “Subservience.”
“Deirdre,” I said, trying to get her to move. But dragging a changeling who didn’t want to be dragged was like trying to drag a mountain. Deirdre didn’t even budge.
Enoch looked at the kneeling fae. “My dear changeling,” he whispered, “bring me the Kat.”
Without hesitation or warning, Deirdre turned on me, grappling me into submission and squeezing.
↔
EGYA. I knew my Ghanaian friend was lurking in the background. He was an accomplished hunter and warrior. In our first true battle together, he managed to remove a magic ring that controlled a troop of mindless (but very powerful) jinn creatures. He did it by cutting off that Big Bad’s finger.
I figured he had something similar up his sleeve. And all I needed to do was serve as a distraction. “Let me go,” I said in as helpless a voice as I could muster. “Please.” With that word, I managed to squeeze out a few tears.
“Crying, Katrina? That is so unlike you.”
“Yeah, well, you didn’t just have to fight three dead gods. That’s after losing your soul after regaining it and becoming human again. An event that, might I add, took place while I was in the middle of feeding. Feeding as a vampire.” I put in as much confusion and pain as I could, going for the frantic, out-of-control-crying approach. I figured that if this guy really wanted to marry me, then seeing me like this was bound to raise an eyebrow. And, if I was really lucky, some empathy.
As I continued my barely coherent, tear-filled rant, I was surprised by how easy it all came out. I mean, I had wanted to do it as a rouse, a distraction so Egya could get into position, but this … this hit home far more closely than I’d expected.
What can I say? Mortality truly does bite.
“And to top it all off,” I finally let out, “my best friend has betrayed me for you, and all because you have the gods’ greatest hits on DVD in your hand.”
As soon as those words left my lips, Egya sprang from behind Enoch. He had a knife and was going for the former archangel’s hand. Any second now and this guy would lose a finger, drop the disk and then it would be my turn to subdue.
With a couple fists in his face.
But Egya’s blade paused about three millimeters from Enoch’s thumb. The Ghanaian hunter was frozen in an awkward crouching position. I had no idea what magic Enoch was using this time. Another contact lens? A shiny disk hidden somewhere? For all I knew, he had paralyzing sunscreen on his bald head.
“Ahh, the were-hyena comes out to play.” Enoch didn’t even look down at him. “You can stop your babbling now. As you can see, I am not so easily distracted.”
My face went cold. “Apparently not.”
Enoch tilted his head. “Much better. Now, what should I do? I could slit his throat. He wouldn’t move while bleeding out—his body would go into rigor mortis in that position. Or I could just leave him thus, forever.”
“Well, that might be his preference. After all, he does do yoga.”
Enoch chuckled. “Gallows humor. Endearing.” Then he shrugged like a parent giving in to his toddler’s demands. “You do love the boy, so killing him would put a permanent black mark on our upcoming nuptials. Instead, I shall offer him as a gift to you. Your very first pet.”
And with a wave of his hand, I watched in horror as Egya’s body contorted and writhed, turning into a hyena before my very eyes.
FAE SLAVES AND PET HYENAS
I once saw a hyena at a zoo. They were lanky canines with a hedgehog-like mane and a permanent resting I-know-something-you-don’t-and-it’s-hilarious face. They were also quite small, not much larger than an average-sized labrador.
Egya, on the other hand, was huge—easily the size of, well, the six-foot-nothing, muscular young man that he was. Unlike other hyenas I’ve seen, he wasn’t brown, either, but black as night with pearly white teeth. Also, his mouth carried the same mischievous, half-cocked smile that he always wore, and I knew he was still in there.
“Oh great,” I said. “He was annoying enough as a human. But now he’s going to shed, too.”
Enoch chuckled. And so did Egya, his hyena lips pulling back in that way they did whenever he found something really funny.
“It’s good to see you’re still in there,” I said. “And as for you, Mr. I-Was-An-Angel-and-Now-I’m-Not … what’s the plan?”
“The Soul Jar.” He put out his hand.
“And what? I hand it over and you’ll let us go?”
Enoch’s lips curled. “I wouldn’t be—how did you put it?—the Big Bad if I did. No, I will not let you go, but I also promise not to kill your pet.”
He placed a hand on Egya’s scruff and the damn overgrown canine just sat down. I mean, he literally just sat down. Like a good dog.
Crap.
Enoch had some mojo going on with him, too.
So, let’s assess. In the span of ten minutes, Enoch had managed to charm both my best friends, using them against me. One of them ended up sitting before him, prone, and probably wouldn’t move a muscle while Enoch broke his neck.
The other said best friend had me in a grip that made Hulk Hogan’s signature move seem like a hug. (What? Not a WWF wrestling fan from the 1980s? Google it. Trust me, you missed out.) Annnnd … he had enough of a magical arsenal on him to literally make this entire airport do his b
idding.
And what did I have going for me? He seemed to have an, ahem, interest in fornicating with me. I could try to seduce him, but my weak-and-helpless tack had failed. Somehow I don’t think my Oh my, you are so powerful and handsome that I am suddenly overcome with lust routine would work, either.
Besides, from what I could tell, he wasn’t interested in possessing me. He actually wanted me to want him.
Otherwise he wouldn’t have given me that gooey contact lens and—
“OK,” I said. “OK, I get it.”
Enoch lifted a curious eyebrow.
“I get your awkward proposal—your plan to destroy the world and your desire to take me with you.”
“Enlighten me.” He folded his arms over his chest. At least he didn’t have a menacing hand on Egya’s scruff.
“You were Enoch. Then you were Metatron, the Witness.”
He feigned a yawn. “We’ve been over this, Darling. If this is some kind of stalling technique, don’t bother. My spells will last for as long as I need them to. We could literally stand here until we’re old and gray, and no one would come to save you.”
“I know, I know. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you’re in charge. But that’s just the thing: you’re in charge. And that’s the problem, isn’t it?”
He tilted his head, an appreciative smile crawling across his face. “And?”
“And that’s a problem for you … sort of.” I paused. He was impressed, which meant he was curious. And I’d played the captor-captive game enough times to know that meant I had leverage.
I waited for him to speak. But he didn’t. Not for a long time. Instead, he just stared at me like he was trying to unravel a puzzle. Good luck, buddy. Tons of guys have tried to figure out this puzzle, I thought (in my head. Hey, I might have a weird quirk, but even I can control it in life-and-death situations … most of the time).
Just when I thought he was never going to speak again, he nodded, the debate in his head evidentially over. “Deirdre, my fae warrior, please let Kat go. But do be so kind as to keep a hand on her shoulder, should she try … well, anything.”
Now it was my turn to stand dumbfounded.
“What?” he rasped. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To use my curiosity to procure your release? Well, there you have it—you are free of her grasp.” He gave me one of those slow, mocking claps.
An Other who got sarcasm. He was going to be a formidable foe.
“Yeah, fine. But no lies, right? Isn’t that what you said? Tell me: just now, were you reading my mind?”
Enoch narrowed his eyes. “Yes and no.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is also not a lie.”
“Not answering is lying by omission,” was something my mother always said. And look at me now, using her annoyingness to my advantage.
“Humph, very well. As you mentioned, I was the Witness for eons, observing thousands before me. Granted, most of my observations were of angels and gods and powerful Others. My experience with humans is limited. But you are not a human. Not anymore, at least.”
I didn’t want to get into a debate with him about the meaning of humanity and my desire to renew my membership. Instead, I just conceded his point with a nod. No lies, remember?
“So now that your little gambit of silence has paid off … continue.”
“You were an angel. And angels all have their ‘thing,’ right? Michael is the Protector. Even after the gods left, that’s his thing. A thing he chose to fulfill by being a cop in Paradise Lot.” As I said the archangel’s name, I wondered if I’d ever be able to get to Paradise Lot and fulfill Gabriel’s request. “Penemue knows all that is written. Miral is the Angel of Mercy.”
He snorted at that last example.
“And you … you were the Witness. But witnesses are inherently passive, never taking the lead role. Despite that, here you are, taking a decidedly proactive role. You know, bringing about the apocalypse and all.”
He nodded. For the first time, I saw genuine excitement paint his face. “Yes, that is exactly correct.”
“You need me to be the witness. To all that you are about to do.”
“Yes. Very good, Katrina. Very good, indeed.”
“The only question I have is … why me?”
↔
A SILENCE HUNG between us as my question sat unanswered. “No lies, remember?” I repeated.
Still, he said nothing.
“And omissions are a form of—”
“Lying, yes. I know. But whereas I truly desire to tell you, I do not know if you are ready to hear the truth.”
“The truth being …”
“That this was your destiny, woven into the fabric of time so long ago.”
“OK, let’s add being cryptic as a form of lying. Oh, and deduct you major points for being creepy, too.”
Enoch chuckled. “Yes, I suppose you are right. Let me give you part of the truth now. A nibble, if you will, to satiate your curiosity. I learned that the gods would leave even before the gods themselves had formulated their little plans.”
“How?” Curiosity overwhelmed me. Hell, it overwhelmed everyone. Even Egya looked up, giving him that head tilt dogs do when you have their full attention. This guy should have written a book. And that wasn’t sarcasm. He really should have … It would be a massive bestseller that would most likely outsell the Bible, Koran and Torah combined.
“Long before you were born, I was a witness to the three Sisters of Fate, and they showed me the thread that led to this point.” He stared off into the distance, lost in his own memories. “It was the only time I used my position to gain knowledge that should not have been mine.
“They showed me the gods departure, my unfortunate humanity and you, my dear Katrina. And they told me that our destinies are intertwined. That you would bring me before the gods for one final judgment.
“But the Fates, being the Fates, did not tell all. I do not know what that final judgement will be, nor do I know when. But that is why I chose you. Why I have followed you for all this time.”
I stood there, flabbergasted. This guy had literally been stalking me since I was born. Hell, since before I was born.
As cosmically weirded out as I was, I needed to keep my cool if I was going to get out of this. I had one more move to make. It was a long shot, but when you’re screwed, sometimes long shots are all you get.
“What about our pending nuptials? Did they tell you about that, too?”
Enoch paused as his face betrayed a momentary panic. But as quickly as that panic showed itself, it disappeared, his demeanor returning to its normal calm, confident, smug self.
Still, it was there. I’d touched a nerve.
“My dear, no, they did not show us together in any other capacity than our intertwined fates. Still, I know. I know because I have—”
“Because you have what? Used one of those eye thingies to see the future? I know that’s not true. If it were, you would never have let this little scene unfold, would you?” I paused, searching for the truth in my words. Given his reaction—or rather, his lack of a reaction—I knew I had guessed right. He hadn’t seen the future. He only spoke of the future he hoped for. Which meant that he didn’t actually know if he’d ever see the gods again. This was all open.
I narrowed my eyes as if I was struggling to understand what was happening here. “You are so damn confident that we’re going to wind up together. How? Why? I mean, we’ve never met. Sure, you’ve been pinning the celestial versions of pervy photos on your cosmic walls, but that doesn’t mean—”
“Because I know you,” Enoch rasped. “I know you better than you know yourself.”
“How cliché. Did you read that in Villains for Dummies, or was that particular gem something you picked up in Villainy 101?” I threw in as much ire and contempt as I could, summoning every ounce of the intonation partners have used on their lovers since the dawn of time. The tone that clearly says, “I’m not impressed.�
�
As I used it, images of all my past boyfriends throwing up their arms in exasperation flew through my mind. All two of them: Justin and Aldie—the dark elf I dated about a hundred and fifty years ago.
Boy oh boy, I really am inexperienced on the boyfriend front.
Lovers and victims, on the other hand …
Enoch, much like those two, threw up his arms and head before returning his gaze to me in that way that said, “We’re about to get into it now, girl.”
Good. Finally my feminine wiles were working.
Enoch began to utter something when I lifted a hand. “Ah-ah-ah. Before you hit me with whatever priceless gem you have swimming in that head of yours, answer me this, Megatron …”
That did it. He flew into a rage in that way I just knew he would.
You don’t stalk someone for centuries without being a wee bit unbalanced. The trick is to find the axis … and kick it.
“Metatron,” he growled, and I don’t know if it was real or not, but I felt Deirdre’s grip on me lighten. It wasn’t much, but it was definitely there.
I don’t know much about magic. As a vampire, we never had the ability to burn time. All our magic tended to be inherent abilities that were “on” all the time. But I did date that fae guy, and he told me that spells generally fall into one of two camps: timed or concentration.
Timed spells are just that … magical effects that, once they run their course, are over. A fireball is done and gone once it hits its target. A summoned demon only hangs around for as long as the spell is designed to last. Once that timer buzzes, the creature either goes back to wherever it came from, or is free to do whatever it wants (which usually results in attacking the summoner. Funny thing about summoning demons: they don’t like being pulled away from their fire-and-brimstone homes).
But concentration spells are different. They require the caster to be focused on the spell’s effects. The more powerful the caster, the more spells they can cast simultaneously.
That takes experience and intelligence—something Enoch had in abundance, given how many spells he had going at once while dealing with me.