by Simon Hawke
“It looks as if they killed just about everybody,” Kira said.
“I’ve got to go in there,” Wyrdrune said. He started walking toward the house.
“Wyrdrune, wait!” Kira called after him. When he kept going, she hurried after him and Angelo followed. Behind them, a convoy of police vehicles came screeching to a stop out in the street. Several cars continued on through the gates and up the driveway.
“Hey, buddy, you can’t go in there!” one of the firemen shouted as he came out of the house, dragging a length of heavy hose. They continued on past him. The fireman glanced toward his companions out on the lawn. “Why the hell didn’t you stop them?”
“You want to stop them, be my guest,” one of the others said, and walked back toward his fire truck.
They went through the relatively undamaged living room and down the corridor, following the signs of destruction toward Leone’s den. Several firemen saw them and started to order them out, but fell silent at the sight of the brightly glowing gem in Wyrdrune’s forehead. They came into the den, where several slickered firemen were in the act of removing the last of the bodies.
“Leave them alone,” said Wyrdrune.
The men turned toward the sound of his voice. “What the… who the hell are you?” one of them said. “What do you think you’re doing? Get these people the hell out…” And then his voice trailed off as he stared at the three intruders.
“Leave,” said Wyrdrune softly.
Without a word, the men left what they were doing and walked out of the room. Wyrdrune moved directly to Calador’s body and stood over it, looking down. His runestone flickered. Kira and Angelo came up behind him.
“Yeah, something went wrong, all right,” said Kira.
“‘You had to do it, didn’t you?” McGuire said from behind them. As they turned, he came into the room, followed by Case and several other officers. The odor of smoke and char was heavy in the air. The uniformed officers had their weapons drawn. “Put ‘em away,” McGuire said to them.
“You think we did this?” Wyrdrune asked.
“What else am I supposed to think?” McGuire said tightly.
“You know these people?” a police captain who stood with him asked.
“Yes, I know them,” said McGuire. “But they’re not the ones I thought we’d find here.”
“You mind telling me what the hell this is all about?” the captain asked McGuire.
“It’s about him,” said Wyrdrune, glancing down at Calador’s body.
Case moved forward quickly and looked down at the blackened body, then frowned. “He’s not the one,” he said.
“What are you talking about?” said Kira. “He’s one of them. There isn’t any doubt, believe me.”
“I’m telling you, this isn’t him,” said Case.
“Are you sure?” Wyrdrune said.
“The body’s been burned and the face is unrecognizable,” said Case, “but I’m telling you, this isn’t him. Beladon was a big guy, about six feet six. This one can’t be more than five-ten or eleven, tops. What’s more, he didn’t die from magic. He’s been shot several times with powerful, large-caliber slugs. The entire top of his head’s been blown away. See for yourself.”
“That means there were more than two of them,” said Wyrdrune grimly. “There were at least three.”
“Would somebody mind telling me what’s going on here?” the Long Beach police captain asked irritably. “What are we talking about? You told me this was going to be a major drug bust.”
“It’s a lot more than that, Captain,” Case said. “This entire house is positively vibrating with thaumaturgic trace emanations. We’re dealing with necromancy here. That makes it the Bureau’s jurisdiction.”
“Hell,” the captain said. “All right, I’m outta here. You people need anything, you know how to reach me.”
“Captain,” Case said, “needless to say, we want to keep the necromancy angle quiet, at least for now.”
“It’s your show, Agent Case,” said the captain. “This is one headache I don’t need. C’mon, boys.”
“What the hell happened here?” McGuire asked when they sad gone.
“I’m not sure,” said Wyrdrune. “We only got here minutes before you did.”
“I thought I told you people to stay out of it.”
“Jesus Christ, McGuire, take a look around you,” Kira said. “This is what you would’ve been going up against. These men all had guns. A fat lot of good that did them.”
“It did somebody some good,” said Case, looking down at Calador’s body. “The fire’s damaged the room severely, as has the water from the firemen’s hoses, but there’s a lot more heat damage than damage from the flames, and the bodies haven’t been completely burned. This wasn’t arson. At least, not in the conventional sense. This was thaumaturgic force, but on a level of magnitude I’ve never seen before.”
“One of Leone’s men must’ve caught this one by surprise and dropped him,” Wyrdrune said. “And then all hell broke loose.”
“We’ll have to question the firemen,” said Case. “They got here pretty quick. Maybe somebody saw something.”
“Sir,” said a uniformed policemen, coming to the door. “You might want to see this.” He handed Case a file folder.
Case opened it and said, “Shit.”
“What is it?” asked McGuire.
“D.A. Mathews’s task force file on Leone and his operation,” Case replied. He glanced up at Angelo. “I guess this was mostly your work. Names, addresses, it’s all here.” He looked back at the cop. “Where did you find this?”
“In a vehicle parked across the street,” the cop said. “The doors were just left open and the key was still in the ignition. We’re running a make on the plates now.”
“It was undoubtedly stolen,” said McGuire. “Wonder why they didn’t use it to get away.”
“No need,” said Wyrdrune. “They probably used it to get here to conserve their energies, but they absorbed enough life force here to teleport clear across the country without breaking a sweat.”
“So you’re telling me they could be anywhere?” McGuire said.
“No, they’re still here,” said Case. He glanced up at Angelo and the others. “There’s still something here they want.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
THEY STOOD OUTSIDE on the lawn of the Leone estate, watching as the fire department wrapped up its operations and the trucks pulled off. Curious onlookers had gathered just outside the gates and the police out in the street were busy keeping them at bay. The night was lit up with the flashing of revolving lights on the squad cars.
“Leone was a known organized crime figure,” McGuire said. “For the time being, we’ll use the story of a gangland hit over a drug deal gone bad and an arson in an attempt to cover it up. I’ll work up the fine points later. Meanwhile, we’re all going to have to talk. This thing is getting way out of control.”
“It’s never been under control to begin with,” Wyrdrune said.
“I’m going to have to do a lot of fast talking over the next couple of days,” McGuire said, “and I’ll have Case to back me up. We’ve got Christine Mathews in our corner, and both Blood and Renaud should be arriving soon. I’ve got a call in to Katayama, but I’m going to need you three to help me sell this to the higher ups.”
“You still don’t understand, do you?” Kira said. “There just isn’t enough time for all that. The Dark Ones are still out there somewhere. You saw what they did here tonight. They could easily do the same thing all over the city.”
“She’s right,” said Wyrdrune. “They’ve got to be stopped, and we’re the best chance you’ve got. We simply don’t have time for investigative committees or grand juries or whatever. If that’s what you want to do, you’re on your own.”
“Now you listen here, Karpinski,” McGuire began, but he was cut off.
“The name is Wyrdrune. Mel Karpinski was another lifetime. In many ways, he doesn’t really e
xist anymore.”
“Look, I don’t care who the hell you think you are or what—”
“Sir, we’ve got the rundown on those plates,” one of the officers said, approaching McGuire. “The car is registered to Ryan Keith, in Oyster Bay. And it hasn’t been reported stolen.”
“Ryan Keith, the actor?” said McGuire.
“I think so, sir. There are a number of expensive vehicles registered to that address.”
“You didn’t call him, did you?” Wyrdrune said quickly.
“Uh… no, sir. Mr. Keith hasn’t been contacted yet.”
“Make sure he isn’t,” Wyrdrune said.
“Wait a minute,” said McGuire. “What do you think you’re—”
“McGuire, listen to me,” Wyrdrune said. “We may have gotten lucky. If the car hasn’t been reported stolen, they may be using Keith’s place as their headquarters. They’ll realize they made a mistake leaving it behind. If we move fast, we just may—”
“Hold it,” said McGuire. “Nobody’s moving anywhere. Before anyone goes off half-cocked, we’re going to have to coordinate with the police in that area first and make sure—”
“Screw that,” said Wyrdrune. “What’s Keith’s address?”
“I said hold it!” McGuire repeated.
Wyrdrune gazed directly into the young officer’s eyes. “What is Keith’s address?” he asked in a firm and level tone.
The officer’s eyes glazed over slightly and he gave it to him.
“Let’s go,” said Wyrdrune.
“You’re not going anywhere,” McGuire said, reaching for him, but the emerald runestone in Wyrdrune’s forehead flashed and McGuire jerked his hand back, startled, as the beam of force lanced out toward Kira’s upraised palm. It seemed to bounce off her sapphire runestone, change color, and strike the ruby in Angelo’s chest. McGuire, Case, and the others shielded their eyes from the blinding glare as it increased, growing so bright it blotted out everything else around it. The triangle started to revolve. It spun around faster and faster, raising a strong wind and driving the others back as it extended out into a glowing pyramid and then formed a cone like the funnel cloud of a tornado, howling and crackling with thaumaturgic discharges. And then it sucked up into itself and, with a sharp, cracking sound, simply disappeared.
“Holy shit,” McGuire said softly.
“Yeah. Argue with that,” said Case.
“How long does it take to get to Oyster Bay from here?”
“If we go all out, an hour, maybe, if the traffic’s light on the parkway.”
“Damn it,” said McGuire. “Can you use a spell to teleport us?”
Case looked at him uneasily. “I can, but it’ll take a lot out of me. And it’ll be risky. I’ve never been out there before. I could wind up dropping us into the bay, or worse.”
“I’ll take my chances,” said McGuire. “Do it.”
Case sighed. “All right. Give me about a minute to focus and get ready.”
“Go ahead,” McGuire said. Then, turning to the young officer, he said, “Get on the horn to the police up there, local and county, and tell them to get all their available units out to Ryan Keith’s place right away.”
“Uh… what should I tell them, sir?”
“Hell, tell them it’s a B.O.T. operation. Chief Agent Case of the New York office and Deputy Commissioner McGuire of N. Y.P.D. require all available assistance for a major felony magic crime arrest. And tell ‘em we expert heavy resistance and to load for bear. Got it?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Well, what are you waiting for? Move!”
Beladon knew something had gone wrong when he saw Delana come back alone. And even if it wasn’t for Calador’s conspicuous absence, he still would have known from her appearance and the vibrance of power he sensed surging through her as she came into the living room.
“I see you have fed your hunger,” he said, calmly facing her from across the room as she came closer. “Where is Calador?”
“Dead,” she said.
Beladon nodded slightly. “Somehow, I am not surprised,” he said. “Disappointed, yes, but not really surprised. Was it you who killed him?”
“No,” she said, stopping a short distance away from him, her eyes burning. “‘It was one of the humans. One of Leone’s men who took Calador by surprise and treachery. He is dead, as well. They are all dead. Calador is revenged.”
“Calador was a fool,” said Beladon simply. “He took his superiority too much for granted. Even an inferior opponent can triumph if one is careless. As you, too, have been careless. I wanted Leone and his people alive.”
“Did you truly expect me to let them live after what they did?” she asked. “Should Calador’s death have gone unpunished?”
“Calador got no less than he deserved,” Beladon replied, sitting down in an armchair and crossing his legs casually. Delana remained standing.
“And a threat to your supremacy has been eliminated,” she said.
Beladon shook his head slightly and sighed. “How little you understand me, Delana,” he said.”‘I had thought that you would know me better by now. Calador’s death diminishes us all. There are not so many of us left, you know. All those who died trying to escape the Eternal Circle of the pit, the ones the avatars had hunted down and killed… how mam of us does that leave? Perhaps a dozen, more or less. A mere handful of survivors, all scattered, hiding in their sanctuaries, hoarding and gathering their power, fearing that the others may grow stronger first. When I think of what we could accomplish were we all united…”He sighed wearily. “I had thought you understood.”
“I understand only that Calador was right,” she said. “He may have underestimated the humans, for which he paid the price, but he had not underestimated you.”
“And what about yourself?” asked Beladon, raising his eyebrows.
“I know what you desired,” she said. “You wanted me for your consort, and Calador for your retainer. You wanted acolytes so that you could increase your own power while you kept us weak, so that we could not challenge you. Well, I am no longer weak, Beladon.”
“No, I can see that,” he replied. “You are most compelling in your newfound strength. Vibrant and exciting. It is what I had always wanted for you.”
“And is that why you had denied me for so long?” she countered scornfully. “Was it merely to whet your appetite? Or mine?”
“Neither,” he replied. “I had explained it all to you before. Must I explain it all again?”
“I know your explanations all too well,” she said. “Calador was not the only one who wearied of them. The humans have evolved. They are stronger now, and smarter, and our feeding will only alert them to our presence in their midst. We must bide our time and make our plans and prepare to deal with the avatars while we seek out the others… No, Beladon, you are wrong and Calador was right. I see that clearly now. The way to deal with the avatars is through strength, strength such as I feel coursing through me now. Calador’s mistake was in believing that the humans would frighten easily, but they have forgotten us. Too much time has passed, and our names no longer make them tremble. Tonight, I have given them but a small reminder, and it was only the beginning.”
“Yes, now that you have tasted life force once again, and now that you have once more felt the power, you are hungry for more,” said Beladon. “That has always been our only weakness, Delana, the price of necromancy. The more power we expend, the more the hunger grows.”
“That is as it should be,” she said.
“That is how we were defeated,” he replied. “We cannot let the hunger drive us. We must master it, Delana. We must have discipline, else our own greed will destroy it. There is no stronger weapon that the avatars and, yes, even the humans can use against us.”
“The humans!” she said with disgust. “They exist only to provide our sustenance and serve our needs. I made short work of them tonight. I brushed them away like flies and drank their essence. Once they have seen wh
at we can do, once they have been reminded who we are, they shall all cower at our feet!”
“You underestimate them,” Beladon said softly.
“And you have grown soft and weak.”
“Is that what you truly believe?”
“I am not afraid to put it to the test,” she said.
“So. It has come to this,” he said with resignation.
“You still believe that you are stronger?” she said.
“Perhaps,” Beladon replied. “And perhaps not. But whoever has the greater strength, our strength is greater still together. There is no need for us to put it to the test, Delana.”
“If we do not, then we shall always wonder who is stronger,” she said, “and sooner or later, one of us will be tempted to find out. I shall no longer subjugate my will to yours, Beladon, and I am not so foolish as to think that you would cease in your attempts to dominate me. Our aims are not the same, nor are our methods I can no longer accept yours, and you refuse to accept mine. I see no other way.”
“What if I were to tell you I am content to let you go your way? It is a large world, Delana. Surely there is a corner of it you can stake out as your own.”
“And wait until you have grown strong enough to come and seek me out again? I think not. Besides, a mere comer would not be enough. I want it all.”
“That is your hunger speaking, not your better judgment,” said Beladon. “You are still intoxicated from all the life force you have absorbed so greedily. This is not the time for us to settle this. Wait until—” *
“I am done waiting! This matter shall be settled now!”
Beladon sighed. “Very well, if you insist.”
The shotgun blast echoed through the house and Delana’s chest exploded. Her eyes bulged as she was thrown forward to the floor. She fell on her side and slowly rolled onto her back as Beladon stood over her, hand outstretched and glowing. With blood bubbling forth between her lips, she tried to raise her head. Ryan Keith stood there stiffly, eyes vacant, holding the still smoking shotgun.
“I told you,” Beladon said softly as he absorbed her life force and took all her newly gained strength for his own, “it is not wise to underestimate the humans.”