Mortality Bites - The COMPLETE Boxed Set (Books 1 - 10): An Urban Fantasy Epic Adventure

by Ramy Vance

  “I don’t know about that,” I said.

  “You are human. Your god never walked amongst your kind.”

  “Except once,” Enoch corrected.

  “Except once,” Aldie agreed. “But even then, he did so in such an ambiguous moment and during a time of unreliable records. It is difficult for a modern human to believe. But we fae, our gods were amongst us. Dined with us. Mated with us. They continuously reminded us that they would care for us. And then they left without so much as a word as to why or guidance as to what we were to do next. So, you see—a lie.

  “I vowed to never lie again. Not speaking, especially with the uncertainty of ever receiving another chance, is a lie by omission. And since the chances of us ever speaking again are negligible, allow me to answer your question. I left because you wanted me to.”

  “Excuse me?” This time I twisted my body completely around so I could give him my own death stare. But since I was hanging in the way I was, all I managed to do was twist around and give him a split-second death stare before turning around again.

  So, I twisted again. And again.

  Twist, death stare, turn. Twist, death stare, turn.

  “I was a young vampire—only eighty years or so. I was alone, without a sire to guide me or a coven to protect me. You were my world. I loved you. I loved living in the UnSeelie Court. I loved your parents.”

  “I know,” Aldie said. “And they loved you, too. But none of that was enough for us to remain together. You wanted something else.”

  “And what was that?”

  “You wanted what we all do: to find your purpose. And even though you couldn’t articulate it then, deep down you knew that your purpose was not with me. It was the hardest thing I ever did, letting you go. But it was also the right thing to do.”

  “You turned me away. Right after your parents …” I stopped talking.

  “Died,” Aldie finished for me. “I will forever be in your debt for what you did for me.”

  “What she did?” Enoch lifted a curious eyebrow.

  “What, your celestial stalking of me didn’t mention that? The Fates’ tapestry didn’t show you what happened then?” I growled. “Aldie’s parents were something of celebrities in the UnSeelie Court, so when they died, the court employed all manner of detectives and magic to find their killers. And who did they wind up pointing their slender, perfectly formed elven fingers at? Aldie. He was going to be executed, but I was on the case. I found his parents’ killers and brought them to justice. And what did Aldie do as thanks for giving his parents peace and saving his ass? He kicked me to the curb.”

  “I set you free.”

  “You can use all the flowery language you want—you dumped me. Coldly and harshly.”

  “Katrina,” Aldie said in that tone he used when he was trying to cut through my anger to get me to listen, “I saw who you were when you were—how did you put it? On the case? You were alive. Not the sullen girl you became when you joined me at the elven theater or dinner parties, wearing fae silks and perfume. Being the half-breed demon of a dark elf aristocrat muted you. And I couldn’t do that anymore. Not after seeing your vibrant colors during my own darkest days. I loved you far too much for that.”

  I thought back to that moment. He was right. I was so … engaged when I was trying to save Aldie. But I didn’t just do it for him. His parents had been kind to me. I loved them. I needed to see their true killers brought to justice.

  But it was more than that. Finding his parents’ killers in the unfriendly world of the fae was a real challenge, and I loved every minute of it.

  There was a slow clap from the corner. “I must applaud that little display, and thank you, dear dark elf, for unveiling more about Katrina to me. I now see that our union will never be. Still, the Fates showed us hand in hand, standing before the gods. That image was clear, and the Fates are never wrong.”

  Aldie cracked his neck. “The Fates are also never clear. They play their old parlor tricks of obfuscation and sleight of hand, using words with double meanings. You saw your union because that’s what you wanted to see. You saw the two of you standing before the gods because, again, that’s what you wanted to see. But the truth is, the gods are gone. Whoever you were standing before is not the gods. It is just the false glamor of an old—”

  “NO,” Enoch growled. “I saw it clear. She and I were standing hand in hand on the shores of some great ocean. Five gods from different pantheons stood before us, all of them looking down on us with smiles on their faces. Behind them, the sun was dipping below the horizon.”

  “Where?”

  “Wherever they are now.”

  “Tell me, Enoch, why would the gods be standing on a beach at sunset? Because they are marrying you two?”

  “I do not presume. But that is the location where we met them.”

  “And why would they be smiling?”

  “They are pleased that we found them.”

  “Remember,” I said, “he wants to destroy the world and go on some supernova cosmic ride to find them.”

  “Answer me this, Enoch. After everything you have seen of this woman, do you still believe that she will join your little voyage? Don’t you think it is more likely that she will die before that?”

  Enoch didn’t say anything. And neither did I. I did, however, let Aldie’s words sink in. If he was right, then I would never leave this planet.

  Still, what if what Enoch saw was also right? Were the gods planning to come back? And if they did, what would become of this world? We barely survived their leaving, and I knew we had no chance of surviving their return.

  But before I could fully consider the implications of those thoughts, Enoch started laughing with those eerie, raspy croaks of his. “Very clever, dark elf. Oh, how your lies do distract.”

  “I am not lying. I told you that I do not lie. Not anymore.”

  “Really?” Enoch said. “You mentioned that the Fates used obfuscation and sleight of hand to fool those who would listen. Tell me, how are you different?”

  “Because I do not manipulate. I am not trying to get my audience to do or believe something that is false. I am merely trying to inspire.”

  “Inspire through lies.”

  “No,” Aldie said, but I could hear his voice wobble.

  “And those little pyrotechnics, those fireballs. Tell me, how much time do you burn for each?”

  Aldie didn’t answer.

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Are you telling me that those fireballs were an illusion? As in a non-magical, I’m-a-Vegas-magician illusion?”

  Again, my question was met with silence.

  “Aldie,” I said.

  The dark elf let out a long sigh. “Pockets of gas released, then ignited in midair. Ingenious, don’t you think?”

  “So, you weren’t sacrificing time?”

  “That’s not entirely true. It took time to design that. And also, I needed to burn a bit of magic to explode the gas—”

  “How much?”

  Enoch smiled at my question. He was loving this.

  Even though I couldn’t see him, I knew him well enough to know that he lifted an eyebrow in a very Spock-like fashion. “How much what?”

  “How much time?”

  “It took me several tries and singeing my hair twice, so all invested, a week?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t play coy with me. How much?”

  “Three seconds.”

  “You burnt three seconds of time per fireball?” I didn’t know if I wanted to punch him or scream.

  “No, three seconds total.”

  OK, I did know. I wanted to scream and punch him.

  “You lied.”

  “They needed a hero,” he said. “Someone to sacrifice for them. Like their gods once did. That is all I did.”

  “You lied,” I repeated.

  “No! I inspired.”

  “And now you’re lying to yourself.”

  “They needed a hero.”

&n
bsp; “A false god,” Enoch rasped.

  “Oh, don’t give me that shit,” I said, locking eyes with Enoch. “Your god was just as false as him. And a worse hero, too.”

  “Excuse me?” Enoch’s eyes widened.

  “God makes a terrible hero,” I said. “Think about it, when you can do anything with simply a thought, there is no struggle. No overcoming anything.”

  “You ungrateful talking monkey—” He took a step toward me.

  “You’re a talking monkey, too. And criticize him as much as you want,” I said. “Your hero is just as bad.”

  “Maybe you are right,” Enoch rasped. “Maybe you foolish humans didn’t want a god. You wanted a hero to believe in, not a god to worship. You wanted Him to believe in you. And when He rightly refused, you stopped worshipping Him. You took Him for granted. You turned your back on Him first. You …” He punched a hard, accusing finger against my chest, causing me to swing under the force of each painful “you.”

  “You,” he said one more time. He gave us his back, not wanting me to see the glossy tears of frustration welling up.

  He was hurting, and if he wasn’t hell-bent on torturing me before destroying all life, I might have felt sorry for him.

  I will give it to Enoch. Of all the villains (moi included) I’ve known over my long, long life, he was the most methodical—the deadliest of all. And that included the three dead gods I had the displeasure of meeting. But when you boiled it all down, he was still just a villain. And villains seem to all share the same trait of getting emotional.

  Probably comes from their moms not hugging them enough. I know that was my excuse.

  And when they get emotional, they make mistakes.

  The force of Enoch’s finger on my chest caused me to swing more and more each time he prodded me. Pretty soon, my body was moving back and forth like a pendulum. I kicked back my foot to increase my momentum as I swung back, and as soon as I swung forward, I used Enoch’s chest as a springboard to twist round and up over the pipe.

  I had seconds until Enoch would find a way to reach me, but seconds were all I needed. Shimmying the ropes along the pipe, I moved toward the bolt that held the section of pipe on which we hung.

  I may not weigh much, but old pipes like this weren’t designed to hold much of anything. Laying on my back, I kicked up against the wall and pushed with all my worth.

  The joints creaked, then groaned before finally giving way. With a rush of water, the pipes cracked apart and, although still bound, I was free.

  And so was Aldie.

  With the grace of a mountain lion, he flipped forward, kicking Enoch’s chest. The blow forced the ex-archangel a few steps back, buying us enough time to make it out of the room, where a conveniently hung sign with the word Exit on it pointed the way.

  ANGELS AND ELVES … LET’S GET READY TO RUMBLE!

  Enoch hadn’t taken us far. We were in the bowels of the auditorium. Makes sense—he would have needed to sneak us past thousands of adoring fans … non-human fans who tend to have extra eyes and boundary issues. Who knows how many satyrs, pixies and elves had burnt a few minutes of time to sneak into his dressing room? Aldie was friggin’ hot!

  Even though we were literally running for our lives, that last thought filled me with a pang of jealousy. How many groupies did he grope? Oh groan, Kat. You really need to work on your phrasing.

  No time to think about that now. We needed to get upstairs and away. Enoch burst out of the room, clutching his chest. Whatever Aldie did took him by surprise, and the one thing I was starting to figure out about Enoch was that he was only uber-powerful when he was prepared. Catch him off guard and he was as fragile as any human.

  As Enoch moved, he fumbled with one hand as he put something in his ear. What was it? Another magical device that gave him … what? ESP? Telekinetic powers? Spidey-senses?

  I glanced back as we started up the stairs and saw that Enoch was mumbling something. A neon-blue light emanated from whatever was in his ear as he spoke. “Hold on,” I thought. “that’s not a magical item—that’s an earpiece for his ph—”

  It’s times like this I need to think faster. The door at the top of the stairs burst open, and the biggest friggin’ angel I’d ever seen opened the door.

  Oh joy.

  ↔

  THROUGHOUT THE AGES, human mythology has told stories about vast receptacles of knowledge. The Library of Alexandria, the Temple of Apollo and others … all places that housed unfathomable wisdom. And in every instance, there was always an accompanying legend that saw to its destruction. The Library of Alexandria burned down. Apollo abandoned and ravaged by time.

  So when the internet was being developed, the human in me went, “Oh yes, finally myth becomes reality.” The demon in me said, “Whatever … the humans are going to muck this one up, too.”

  I always thought my inner demon was right. After all, the internet seemed to be used exclusively for porn, memes and musing over stupid things, like: Who would win in a fight—a crocodile or a shark?

  What was the appeal?

  But seeing Aldie face off against that massive, hulking angel, I suddenly wished the internet had asked: Who would win in a fight—a dark elf or an angel?

  The angel growled, his huge frame literally bulking up as he tensed his muscles. Normally angels are beautiful, even the ones created for war. But this guy had patches of hair missing from burns that never healed, and his left eye was glossed over—a dead, useless sphere that only remained by the grace of the muscles holding it there.

  Not that being blind in one eye stopped him from seeing us. Without any of the preamble typical of a villain’s henchman, he slammed his fist down toward us.

  Aldie, faster than I’d thought, pushed me to one side as he pivoted to the other. He was fast, graceful … unbelievably fluid. He even managed to quip, “What? No foreplay?” as he did so. I immediately saw Aldie’s tactic: he was trying to get behind the angel.

  But fighting an angel isn’t just dodging fists and feet. They fought dirty. They used their wings.

  The angel spread his wings, creating shutters that extended to the two sides of the hall. There was no getting behind him from the sides, but as big as angel wings were, they still only had two feet. I dove in between his legs and kicked the back of his knee.

  I don’t care how big you are—kick there and you’re going down. The angel went down to one knee like he was proposing to Aldie, who promptly responded by putting a hand on his shoulder and a foot on his chest. He was looking to flip over him.

  And just as he was about to do it, the angel shot up both of his wings, catching Aldie’s chin and sending him flying back toward Enoch.

  “Run,” Aldie said as he got to his feet. “I’ll take care of these two scoundrels.” The dark elf stood in the classic gentleman boxer’s pose from the 1800s. Pretty, but not a very effective fighting stance.

  Aldie knew he didn’t have a chance against one of them, let alone two. And ever the showman, if he was going down he’d make it a grand exit, even if there wasn’t anyone to see it.

  Aldie was screwed. But I wasn’t. I was behind the angel, and the only thing that stood between me and the exit was my own sense of right and wrong.

  I tried to will my feet to move. To get out of here. To leave Aldie to the fate before him. The GoneGods knew he deserved it, after the way he left me. But seeing that elf standing there, ready to sacrifice all for a cause that he’d only heard about just hours earlier, and knowing what he did for the Others … Sure, there were lots of parlor tricks going on and he was misleading them, but his heart was in the right place. I couldn’t leave him.

  But what could I do against these two, even if I was behind them? Well, the only thing one can do in such a situation. I fought the fire of their hate with a fire of my own.

  A real one.

  ↔

  THE OUTER FEATHERS of an angel’s wings are made of some celestial, impossibly hard material not dissimilar from Teflon (if Teflon
were as light as, well … a feather, and capable of repelling a missile). Those super-powerful things were impervious to fire, acid, ice and oil. Which means throwing one of those otherwise devastating substances at an angel is useless. But what few people know is that’s just what the outer feathers can do.

  The inner layers are made of the exact same feathers as geese, making an angel-feather duvet just an expensive gimmick. It also means that angel wings are highly flammable. “Aldie—Light-Bringer, throw it to me,” I yelled.

  I don’t know if the dark elf knew what my plan was, but he threw me his lighter without hesitation. Despite the giant angel between us, it was a perfect throw. Then Aldie did something I didn’t expect. He charged at the angel seeking to … what? Wrestle with him?

  Dark elves are strong, but they’re nothing compared to an angel bred for battle. So if Aldie was to win against this creature, he needed to use his agility. But he didn’t do that at all.

  The angel got down on all fours and met Aldie’s charge full on. The two struck each other with such tremendous force that I felt the shockwaves. The two powerful beings were locked in a wrestling match to the death. Aldie held his own, but I could see his muscles straining. It was only a matter of time before the angel overpowered him.

  He would lose. And despite that, he wore a smile. So did Enoch, who stood by the door, watching. But despite Enoch’s grin, he clutched his chest, standing perfectly still like one trying to conserve his energy.

  Why did he need to? He was about to have the Soul Jar, and he had Aldie trapped. And with all those magical items at his disposal, he could hunt me down at his leisure … if I was still a concern to him. I suspected I was enough of a pain that he’d probably be cutting his We were meant to be losses on the marrying Kat front.

  I looked at Light-Bringer in my hand, its weight immense for what I needed from it now. I struck its archaic flint, praying to gods who would not listen that the old thing struck true.

  Nothing.

  I struck again.

  Nothing.

  But on the third attempt, the orange flame of non-magical fire sprouted to life. I jumped on the angel’s back and wiggled my hands in between the angel’s wings, down into the inner layers where I found some nice, normal, non-magical feathers that caught fire without protest.