“For power,” Solomon supplied. “Except we weren’t quite willing to take the step of selling our souls. So we created our own cult. You’d be surprised what people are willing to do and give when they want something so very desperately: money, service, loyalty. Until yesterday, the house, but we knew that would be the first place you came looking for us, so we vacated.” “Sex,” added David wearily,
Solomon wrinkled his nose. “You could have had it if you’d wanted it.” He turned back to Tango. “Let’s face it, Tango, we’re more than human. All of us here are
— you included. Humans are there for us to use.”
“You used Miranda and Riley,” Tango pointed out with quiet rage. “They’re not human.”
“They chose to join us. They offered themselves willingly. Who were we to turn them away?”
Tango clenched her jaw. “So you used them, just like you used the human Bandog — for your own power. You had Miranda tortured and Riley kidnapped. You had fifteen innocent people killed. You started riots. All for your own power?”
“Remember that Miranda and Riley aren’t so innocent, Tango. I doubt if you are, either.”
“Miranda and I,” hissed Tango fiercely, “regret what we’ve done. Do you have any regrets?”
“No,” Solomon said flatly.
“Then you’re not more than human,” Tango spat. Anger seethed in her; anger and disgust and loathing. “You’re inhuman. You’re two of the most inhuman creatures I’ve ever met. Other Nephandi are evil because they serve evil beings. You’re evil for your own sake.”
“Enough.” David cut her off. The blond mage glanced at Solomon. “It’s almost midnight. Are you finished?”
“I think so.” Solomon’s face was dark. “Let’s get this over with. I’ll take care of the girl upstairs. Give me a few minutes, then bring them up.” He left. David sat down on the bottom step, waiting. Tango glared at him. “You...” she began, but he interrupted her.
“Tango, I can turn any word that passes between your lips into a scream of pain. I would suggest that you not say anything.”
She didn’t believe him. Then, as her blood burned a moment later, she did. She kept her mouth closed. After a few minutes, one of the High Circle appeared at the top of the stairs and gestured for David. The blond mage replaced his dog-head mask and approached her with his knife drawn. He pulled her own knife out of her grasp. She couldn’t tell if he was surprised or not under the mask when the knife turned back into a ring, but he slipped the ring onto his smallest finger mockingly. Then he cut her, drawing blood at her shoulders, hips and knees. The knife w'ent back into his belt. David turned to go up the stairs. Miranda followed him on one side, Tango, her limbs moving like a puppet’s at the mage’s silent command, on the other.
For the first time, she realized how helpless she was. That single terror overwhelmed all of the hatred that she felt for Solomon and David. She was going to die. Miranda was going to be forced to kill her. And then Miranda was going to die as well. Tango wondered if the vampire had been able to hear what the mages had told her. She glanced as far to the side as her limited control over her own muscles would allow. She couldn’t see Mirarida’s eyes.
They walked up from the stairs into the middle of the Bandog summoning rite.
Solomon had appropriated the great hall of Union Station for his false ritual. The room was huge and echoing, the walls faced in cold, dark gray stone. Immense pillars with ornate capitals supported heavy arches over passages leading deeper into the station. The ceiling vaulted high overhead, lost in the dense shadows. Broad, arched windows of thick, frosted glass dominated either end of the room. During the day they would have brought light into the hall. At night, they were vast, black sheets. Big, old-fashioned lamps hung from massive chains in the four corners of the hall, shedding a sullen light that did little to dispel the darkness.
The Bandog stood just to one side of the huge hall; the center was occupied by a large clock, the long hands of which stood ominously close to midnight. The
Bandog were arranged in circles, just as they would have been in the ceremony room of Solomon’s house, except that all stood on the same level. The outer circle’s black masks faced the thin-spread backs of the High Circle. The High Circle’s gold-decorated masks faced Solomon. Solomon raised his arms. The Bandog’s chanting round died out with a final murmured chorus of “I will obey his servant in this world. I am Bandog.”
Solomon kissed the bracelet tattooed on his w'rist. A whisper of movement filled the great hall as the Bandog followed suit. Solomon led them in the litany of the full obedience. Tango could hear David muttering the words as well.. She looked at the backs of the Bandog. If they knew what kinds of lies Solomon had told them, if they knew the total falsehood they were so willingly accepting as the truth, she might still be able to stop all of this! She opened her mouth.
David glanced at her.
She closed her mouth sharply. I can turn any word that passes between your lips into a scream of pain.
But the mage couldn’t touch her Kithain mind. Maybe.... Her eyes flickered across the thin-spread ranks of the High Circle, searching for one familiar old man. When she found him, she focused all of her attention on him. Miranda had said Jubilee Arthurs was a full telepath now, but surely he would still remember some of his old, simple tricks. She filled her mind with his name, concentrating on him alone.
Jubilee’s head came up and he glanced slightly in her direction. Shiv? he asked inside her head.
That name gave her a start, but she didn’t try to talk to him. She simply splashed all of what had just happened, all of her conversation with Solomon and
David, across her mind. She saw him start. No. I don’t believe it.
True, she replied, focusing her thoughts carefully. Help?
We’re outnumbered here, Shiv. Even if there were something I could do, how many of.the Bandog would believe that it’s all a hoax? How many would be willing to admit they were being taken advantage of? I know you’re telling the truth. No more than a handful of the others would. He paused. I’m sorry.
Tango’s heart sank. It was hopeless. She tried to look at Miranda again, but she couldn’t even see the vampire. David stood between them. She spat mentally. Jubilee picked up her distress. Tenderly, he relayed his view of Miranda.
The vampire was crying. Tears of blood ran from her eyes down an otherwise impassive face.
Send a message to her? Tango pleaded.
Jubilee actually physically shook his head. I can’t. David has control of her mind. If I try anything, he’d notice. Shiv, if you do anything, I’ll try my best to help you, but I can’t do any more.
Thank you. She hesitated then thought, Call me Tango.
Jubilee’s touch left her mind. Solomon was speaking, something about the High Circle standing guard and defending the Bandog as the Great Hound guarded the gate between worlds. Shaftiel was pleased with the Bandog. The conditions for the summoning of his voice had been met. Tango noticed that Solomon didn’t mention the Kithain court’s attempts to curb the riots. She wondered if Riley and Tolly had been successful. Not that it would matter, of course. All of their plans had assumed that the summoning rite was real, that there really was a demon — and not just two inhuman mages.
Solomon swept his arms wide. “Send forward the traitor, Miranda Delara!”
Miranda walked forward, her body controlled by David’s will. The outer ranks of the Bandog, then the thin line of the High Circle, parted to permit her passage. The cultists murmured as they saw the blood on her face. When she stood within the High Circle, Miranda dropped down to her knees before Solomon, her head bowed. The Nephandus pointed at her dramatically. “Miranda Delara, you stand before the Bandog stripped of mask and chain. The servants of Shaftiel are one to his gaze, but he sees each one who fails in her duty. The servants of Shaftiel are bound to him, but betrayal breaks that bond.” Solomon’s voice thundered in the great hall. “Miranda Delara, you have failed i
n your duty. You have aided an enemy of the Bandog. You have refused to serve as you pledged. Miranda Delara, in the sight of the Great Hound, you are a traitor, and so I name you!” He spat on the ground.
David spat as well. Following their lead, so did the rest of the Bandog.
Solomon produced a piece of parchment — Tango wasn’t sure from where — and raised it over his head. “The pact that you committed yourself to when you became one of the Bandog names the price of treason. Your life is forfeit.” He hurled the parchment at her. “You are the first Bandog to make that contemptible forfeiture. Let others learn from your treacherous example. Your life will be the final stone in the bridge across which the Great Hound shall speak to his
faithful servants.”
Plucking a lash, the same one he had used in the ceremony of initiation, from his belt, David strode forward on cue. The Bandog scrambled to get out of his way. The blond mage stood over Miranda like some dog-faced avenging angel. He raised the lash. Solomon spread his arms and turned his handsome face to the shadows of the ceiling. “O Shaftiel! Your servants call out to you! Answer us! Send your voice into our world to speak to us!” He kissed his tattooed bracelet again. David’s lash fell hard. Miranda bore the stroke silently. As if she had a choice.
The Bandog began to chant the full obedience. David’s lash fell again and again. Tango fought the magickal bonds that held her body motionless, fought desperately. Nothing helped. She reached for the thin Glamour that clung to the cold stone of Union Station, drawing it into her like icy light and throwing it against David’s magick. Nothing. The Bandog began the full obedience again.
Someone gasped. Tango looked up.
Red light was seething around Solomon’s body. The light was hot, smoky and hellish. It writhed, almost as if it were alive, embracing the Nephandus. Solomon’s arms were still outstretched, his head still thrown back. An expression of rapture covered his face. The chanting of the Bandog grew louder, more enthusiastic. David kept lashing Miranda. Sweat gleamed on his bare torso and working muscles, reflecting the infernal light around Solomon.
Solomon began to rise up into the air. Hanging as though the light were the grasp of some otherworldly entity, Solomon flung his eyes open and screamed out,
“The Great Hound comes!”
Everything, even David’s lash, froze. Miranda raised her head. Her eyes glowed the same red as the light around Solomon. Still kneeling, she bayed like a dog, long and quavering. Her fangs were extended, as were her talons. “The Great Hound,” she howled in an unnatural voice, “is here!” She stood and turned to David.
The blond mage dropped his lash and seized her left wrist, desperately beginning the motions of full obedience, as if he were terrified of her. Miranda touched his head gently and moved him away. “I am pleased with your service.” The glow faded from her eyes. To the Bandog, however, her fangs and talons would have been enough. She looked around at the circles of cultists, turning so that all could see her. For a moment, even Tango was stunned by the magnificent effect that Solomon and David had created. Then Miranda pointed at her.
“I speak through the body of the traitor so that none of my loyal servants need perish! But I hunger for another life. I must feed before I speak my message. Let that one, who would attack the Bandog, come and feed me.”
Tango felt David’s magick lift her legs again, moving her forward. The Bandog shifted aside in awe. David stepped away from Miranda. His magick pushed Tango down to her knees. For a moment she could see Miranda’s face, and, up behind her, Solomon. Solomon was smiling cruelly. Miranda was weeping still, red blood dripping from her eyes. One drop fell on Tango’s upturned face. Miranda’s eyes flickered toward that drop even as her hand reached out and took David’s lash from him. Her tongue flickered from her mouth briefly, hungry for the blood in spite of David’s control. The expression made her entire face look utterly ridiculous. David touched the knife in his belt, re exerting his magick. Miranda’s tongue slipped back into her mouth, though her eyes stayed on the drop of blood.
Miranda’s instincts were strong, Tango realized, far stronger than her conscious mind. She was still a vampire beneath the mage’s control of her will. She still had a vampire’s craving for blood.
David couldn’t control Tango’s mind because Kithain were already “half-mad.” Miranda had been unable to control Atlanta Hunter’s mind for a similar reason.
Kithain blood could drive a vampire mad.
Suddenly, Tango had a way to fight back against Solomon and David. It was desperate, and it would be dangerous — both for her and for Miranda. Kithain blood could kill a vampire as easily as it could drive her mad. There was no way to predict the effects. But what other chance was there? Tango still had control of her face and mouth, even if she dared not speak. She bit down savagely on her own lip, just as Miranda stepped in front of her and raised the lash. The vampire eclipsed Solomon, his ruddy aura flaring around her like a demonic halo.
Tango’s blood spilled from her lip. The nocker bit deeper, bit at the inside of her mouth, anything to make blood flow. Red warmth trickled down her chin and over her cheeks.
Miranda’s arm froze. The lash quivered at the apex of its swing. Tango couldn’t see David or Solomon, but Miranda’s eyes were alight with a hunger that no mage had placed there. Her upraised arm trembled for a moment as her mind fought her nature, as David’s magick fought her nature.... Vampire nature won. Miranda’s body darted forward, kissing and licking at the bright blood on Tango’s face. Her tongue darted across the changeling’s Ups. Her fangs brushed her cheek. Tango felt a thrill of fear — had she gone too far? Was this what humans felt before a vampire fed from them? Tango’s eyes met Miranda’s. She could see struggle in them as Miranda fought David for control of her own will. The vampire’s lips touched hers once more and then moved down to her neck, an act of defiance against the mage.
“The Great Hound seizes the throat of his enemy!” shouted Solomon triumphantly. Tango could see him over Miranda’s shoulder, though, and his angry eyes were anything but triumphant. She grinned at him as fangs penetrated her skin.
Ecstasy raced through her body, as sweet as any epiphany she had ever experienced. Tango wanted to hug Miranda against her, to push the vampire’s working mouth against her throat.
Suddenly, though, it was over. Miranda was pushing her away, Solomon's red light glowing in her eyes once more. Tango felt weak, but at the same time energized. Glamour tingled in her limbs, flushing away her exhaustion. She grinned wildly as Miranda raised the lash once more. “My enemy’s blood,” the vampire howled, “is sweet. But her life will be sweeter still!”'
The lash fell across the top of her shoulder, wrapping around to snarl against her back and upper arm. Tango kept smiling, buoyed by the ecstasy of Miranda’s feeding. Miranda growled. She lifted the lash again.
Then screamed, dropping the whip to grab desperately at her head. The scream started in Shaftiel’s horrible voice, but ended in Miranda’s own, and it was echoed by David. The blond mage was on his knees clutching at his head as though it were about to explode. Tango had only wanted to end his magickal control of Miranda’s mind, but something of the vampire’s sudden madness must have echoed back through the magick to affect him as well. Abruptly, Tango’s limbs were her own again.
She leaped for David as the Bandog around them started to shout. She didn’t think, just acted on instinct, moving quickly. The light that flickered around Solomon suddenly went out. Tango could feel his magick sucking at her like quicksand, desperately trying to control her again before she could destroy his plans completely. She wasn’t going to let him have that chance. She grabbed for the little knife that David had tucked into his belt. The blond mage tried to stop her, but couldn’t. Tango got her hand on the knife and twisted around. Solomon’s magick finally took hold of her, freezing her legs like thin pillars of stone even as she drew back her arm. But she still had control of the rest of her body. She snapped her arm forward and
released the knife.
Solomon was fast. The infernal light blazed again suddenly, this time smooth and condensed, a shield over his head and chest. The magickal shield would have deflected a killing shot — if killing had been Tango’s intention. All she’d really wanted to do was distract the mage and prevent him from using his magick against her. The knife sank into flesh. Solomon screamed horribly and tumbled hard to the ground.
Never go for the balls seemed to be one of the unspoken laws that connected men around the world. Maybe that was why they always seemed so surprised when a woman did it. .
Silence fell over the Bandog, then they shouted and jumped forward. For all that they knew, their dark master and their leader had just been attacked by a woman declared the enemy. Tango swung around, Solomon’s grasp on her broken along with his concentration.
“No!” One of the High Circle leaped in front of them, jubilee. “Run! Get away!”
The mercenary’s powers of command weren’t nearly as powerful as Miranda’s, but they worked. The front ranks of the Bandog turned back, snarling the advance of those behind. The mob of cultists boiled in confusion, jubilee kept shouting. Bandog began to flee, running for the doors that would lead out to the streets. Tango grabbed for Miranda, wrapping her arms around the vampire. “It’s okay,” she whispered. “It’s all right. Everything is going to be fine.”
“Tango?” Miranda tried to focus on her.
“What’s happening?’’
“The shadows are coming for me, Tango. The shadows are coming!” She started to shake. Tango held her, rocking her gently. David continued to scream. Solomon rolled over and over on the ground, clutching at himself. Blood soaked his clothes.
Bandog began to scramble back away from the doors out of Union Station, some fleeing out other exits, some diving down the stairs to the subway tunnels, some just cowering in corners. Tango heard singing, a rollicking pooka drinking song. Through the open doors, ducking low to pass under the frame, rode the Kithain court. Most of the torches were gone and the censers cold, but the smoke of the magickal drugs still clung to the descendants of the ancient faeries. Many of the Kithain wore souvenir T-shirts, ball caps, peaked police hats, or simple wreaths of leaves in addition to their finery. Most had silly,_ half-drunk looks on their faces. There were a few humans mixed in with them as well, laughing and singing as though the Kithain were old friends. Only Duke Michael still looked as sternly cold as he had when the Ride began. Riley waved at Tango from Tolly’s back. “Are we too late?”
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