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Blood And Stone: A Novel in The Atalante Chronicles

Page 7

by Nicholas W King


  Angela looked like she was going to start an argument, but stopped herself. She got up and made her way along the table to the hallway. Manuel grabbed my forearm before I could move and gave it a squeeze. It wasn’t strong enough to break any bones, although he could have done that easily enough. A fully-fed vampire can be freakishly strong.

  “No mortals, asere,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You know the rules.”

  A cold streak snaked down my spine. I stared into Manuel’s eyes. “When bodies drop,” I said, “the mortal world notices.”

  Manuel’s grip tightened, drawing a wince of pain from me. “You and I have history. That won’t save you.”

  “Death’s inevitable, Manny.”

  “For some, yes,” he said. He let go of my arm. The blood started flowing into my hand again.

  I eyed Manuel warily. He tried to keep it hidden, but there was some measure of concern in his red-rimmed eyes. No longer caring that Blackwell was watching us, I leaned in and gave Manuel a quick kiss on the lips.

  The citrus and wine flavor of the Sangria greeted me first. Behind that was the heady splash of blood, thick and bold. I sensed the tension in Manny’s body lift for a brief second before he clamped down on his emotions. When I pulled away, the stoic vampire façade was back in place.

  “I’ll see you later tonight,” I said as I walked away. When I got closer to Blackwell, I saw she was wearing her Queen Victoria face again.

  Once we were outside the restaurant and rounding the corner for the parking lot, Blackwell spun around to face me.

  “What the hell was that all about?” she said. Her nostrils were flaring.

  “Where should I start?” I said.

  “First, what rules was he talking about?”

  I sighed. Leaning against the wall of the restaurant, I said, “Picture for a moment humanity in general. You scurry about, working, fucking, making kids, dying. Now picture, behind all that, a secret world. The supernatural is all around you, Deputy. Ghouls, goblins, fae, vampires... the works. I’m just the tip of a large, well-hidden iceberg. We call it the Veil.”

  “And that is?”

  “It’s the smokescreen to keep mundanes like you from knowing we exist,” I said.

  “Not possible. People would find out.” She crossed her arms and gave me a defiant glare.

  I laughed. “People do,” I said. “They always do. Some even get to talk about it. People like you write them off as conspiracy nuts who’ve stopped taking their meds.”

  “And the rest?”

  I thought of Ms. Brubaker and the envelope in my jacket pocket. “Depends. Wizards can wipe people’s minds, remove any memories we don’t want you to have.”

  “Have you——“

  “Yes,” I said, interrupting. “I’ve wiped memories, lied to authorities, helped the vamps cover up incidents.”

  “The envelope. You did a job for them today. After the crime scene?”

  I nodded.

  “You’re collecting a paycheck from both sides. You’re a goddamned mercenary.”

  Angela’s words stung more than I cared for. A lump formed in the middle of my throat. I swallowed to try and push it down. I failed.

  “It’s better than the alternative,” I said.

  “What alternative?”

  “Vampires just kill witnesses.”

  My statement hit Angela like a brick in the face. She stepped back from me. If I were her, I’d be thinking about how many unexplained disappearances occur in Hillsborough every year.

  “What about your people? Those Sentinels you mentioned?”

  “They protect the Veil, not people,” I said. “Why do you think I work with the police?”

  “For a payday.”

  “Ever have to kill someone, Deputy?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  It was my turn to be surprised. “What happened?”

  “Domestic dispute,” she said. “The wife had been beaten half to death. She rushed out of the house to my car. Her husband came storming out, had a gun in his hand. He raised it to shoot her. I put three in his chest by instinct. They called it a good shooting.” She had her arms crossed still, but now they were holding her chest in. She stared at the sidewalk.

  The sound of passing cars became a droning buzz. My vision shifted. Instead of seeing Blackwell physically, I saw her aura. It was a shifting portrait of colors. Dark red bled into yellow then into orange. Surrounding it all was a pulsing web of black tendrils. Her anger was feeding in her mind, working through the new information I was presenting to her. Surrounding it all was the judgment she held toward me for my work and the shooting that would always leave a mark on her.

  When my vision returned to normal, I found Blackwell staring at me, waiting for me to speak. Considering who I was talking to, I was worried about her reaction. “I’ve taken lives as well,” I said. I raised a hand when she made a move to speak. “Supernatural lives only. Mundanes are not my problem. I’ve also saved lives, just like you. Sometimes there’s no other option but to kill.”

  “You like playing both sides,” she said, her expression returning to stern judgment.

  “I’m uniquely qualified,” I said. I pointed a thumb behind me to the restaurant. “Don’t let Vega’s charms fool you. He wouldn’t hesitate to order your death.”

  “You don’t give a damn about this girl,” she countered. “She’s just a way for you to make a living.”

  Rather than get in Blackwell’s face, I continued leaning on the wall and simply met her eyes. “Angela,” I said “if I didn’t care at least a little, I wouldn’t be here with you. You and Lester would be floundering to find answers. In a year or two, CeCe would be a forgotten cold case.” I stepped away from the wall and stood face to face with Blackwell now. “With me, you might get her justice. Without me, CeCe becomes a dusty file in your office.”

  “I wouldn’t forget her,” Blackwell said. I believed her.

  “Yes, you would. One way or another,” I said. I backed off, taking a step away. “This is how my world works,” I went on. “People end up dead or missing. The law gets involved. A few arrests get made, scapegoats mostly. The supernatural world keeps humming along.”

  “But you help us?”

  “Yes. And if I pay my bills doing it, better for me.”

  Blackwell shook her head. “Such a martyr. So selfless.”

  My jaw stiffened. “You. Don’t. Know. Anything,” I said before I started walking away. I remembered Seph’s orders and the threat she’d laid on me earlier. The Rite of Charon would be put on me if I didn’t stop involving the mortal world in supernatural affairs.

  “What don’t I know?” asked Blackwell chasing after me. “You’re keeping secrets from me and Lester, like your relationship with Vega. You expect me to trust you?”

  I whirled on her, my face flush. “I got a warning this afternoon. If I don’t stop helping people like you, I’ll be given a death sentence.”

  She almost skidded to a stop. She took a step back and focused on my eyes, on my face. “You’re not making that up, are you?” she asked.

  Still livid, I shook my head. “We prefer to deal with things in house,” I told her. “Involving the mortal world only leads to trouble. That’s what I was taught as a kid.” I spat on the cement. “I disagree.”

  The deputy stared at me for a few minutes, getting the measure of me in a new light. Then she asked, “How long have you and Vega been involved?”

  “On and off for three years,” I answered. “Not a relationship. Business and sex, nothing more.”

  Blackwell’s look was a bit recriminating. “He likes having a wizard on the payroll?” she asked.

  We had reached the end of the overhang for the restaurant. Looking over Blackwell’s shoulder, I could see a white panel van turning off of 7th Avenue, slowing down as it neared us. The hair on my arms raised. The van was coming up fast.

  “Get behind me,” I said as the driver’s side panel door opened.r />
  Chapter 7

  Until that moment I thought drive-by shootings were a nineties thing.

  The panel van door locked into place. A masked gunner wielding some kind of machine pistol appeared. As soon as I saw the panel open, I channeled power from the surrounding area and pushed it into my ring. Verdant light glowed from the sigils etched into the iron band. A ripple of space, barely perceptible unless you knew exactly what to look for, flowed in front of me as I shouted, “Aegis!”

  A moment later and I’d have been perforated. My coat may stop rain drops like they’re nothing, but bullets are more insistent. The hot lead flew at me. The clatter of the submachine gun filled the street. Our attacker held the gun sideways, letting the muzzle rise fan it across the side of the building.

  Standing with your hand outstretched doesn’t look intimidating when someone’s trying to gun you down.

  When the bullets stop in mid-air, though, that is enough to make someone pause.

  My shielding spell shed the bullets’ momentum until they fell to the concrete at my feet. I maintained a constant flow of energy through my body. Every bullet felt like a hot pinprick in my brain. Sweat poured down my forehead. From what I could see the gunner had an extended magazine. The gunner dumped his extended magazine in a few heartbeats, but it felt a longer on my end. I couldn’t check on Blackwell. Maintaining the shield took all my focus.

  The gunfire stopped. I released the spell after the last bullet hit the sidewalk. The masked gunman shouted something to the driver.

  The van picked up speed, but I could the engine sputtering.

  “Angela,” I said, exhaling a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. When I turned around, she was on the sidewalk bleeding from her shoulder.

  Damn it.

  My sudden anger made my mind work faster. I spun away from the fallen deputy and channeled more power into my cane. Green light flared in the runes. The van was moving toward the railroad tracks, desperately trying to ramp up to getaway speed.

  There’s an old saying about wizards being subtle and quick to anger. It’s difficult to be subtle when using earth magic.

  I’d been against Blackwell joining me. She was a burden I neither wanted nor needed. But Lester had asked me to look after her, to teach her how to survive on my side of the world. He’d wanted me to ease her into the revelation that monsters were real. And she’d gotten shot while I was acting like some poor man’s Neo.

  “Son of a bitch must pay,” I said.

  My power, the willful reworking of the fabric of reality, flowed through my body and into my cane. I focused my mind on the effect I desired, on a spot just beyond the rail road tracks. I slammed my cane into the sidewalk and said, “Columna.”

  Just past the railroad tracks, the pavement shifted. Asphalt drew back like water before a tidal wave crash. It formed into a solid column three or four feet thick. The van didn’t have time to adjust or turn. It careened full bore into the barrier. Crunching metal echoed up and down the street. In my anger-fueled vision, I could see pedestrians running like spooked deer.

  I took a step forward, wrath filling my vision, when a frightened voice said, “Nico...”

  Blackwell had pushed herself up against the wall of the Columbia. Her shoulder was bleeding badly. There were other bullet holes in her shirt. She was breathing quickly, like she couldn’t catch her breath.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. My voice had lost some of its metal. “Stay still. Call the cops.”

  She pulled her cellphone out. I was surprised it was undamaged. “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  I looked back at the wrecked van. I pulled my M1911 out of its holster and thumbed off the safety.

  “I’m going to end a fight,” I said.

  Two figures were stumbling out of the van. I left Blackwell on the sidewalk and started walking toward them. Green energy pulsed in the runes of my staff. Channeling that spell had left me feeling like each step was heavier than the last. The light in my staff began to wane.

  The gunman, still masked and obviously stunned by the crash, faltered for a moment before noticing me. I raised my gun and fired off two rounds into the pavement behind him. The gunman hissed at me, long fangs protruding through the mouth hole of his balaclava. I raised my cane instead this time, pointing the knotted end at the vampire.

  The monster thought better of engaging me and ran with superhuman speed down the railroad tracks. I watched him until he was beyond my line of sight, fleeing toward Centro Ybor. If he came back, I’d deal with him. A noise to my left caught my attention. The driver staggered to the sidewalk, trying to pull a gun from a hip holster. Blood flowed down his face from just above his eyes. His nose looked to be broken. He could barely stand.

  Channeling the energy I’d intended to use for the vampire, I pointed my cane at the man and shouted, “Adigo.”

  A concussive blast of green energy slammed him back through the open van door and onto the pavement, blowing the door off its hinges. I could hear bones crack from the impact. That brought a smile to my face. Raising my gun and keeping my cane ready to release another spell, I approached the downed figure.

  My enemy was breathing but immobile. I relaxed as I neared him. He wore a balaclava as well.

  I holstered my gun and pulled the mask off.

  Underneath the mask was a man’s face. He was human, in other words. His skin was pimply and he had unwashed brown hair. The stench emanating from his crotch almost floored me. There was blood seeping from his mouth, probably from biting his tongue or lip. His blue eyes were vacant and listless. He looked like a malnourished weasel. He’d give me no more trouble.

  “You’re gonna feel the worst hangover later,” I said, chuckling. My mirth was cut short when a fender slammed into my back.

  I went down hard and couldn’t catch my breath. Thinking quickly, I rolled forward, landing next to the pillar I’d created. Looking upside down and back, I saw the vampire gunman preparing for another attack. He’d circled around for another try at me.

  He was vibrating with rage. He’d torn off his mask. He was Latin, short and well-built with close-cropped black hair. His left arm hung limply at his side. He rushed me, long fangs bared, hissing in rage.

  “Adigo,” I said, sending another blast of concussive energy at the vampire. This slowed his forward momentum, giving me a chance to get to my feet. He closed the distance before I could channel enough energy for another spell. I threw a haphazard kick to his midsection and the vampire screamed. I must have caught a broken rib.

  The vamp threw a punch at me. I didn’t move out of the way fast enough. The blow landed against my left shoulder. I backed up a few steps, feeling a sharp pain. Gripping the smaller end of my cane, I swung it like a cudgel. The knotted end connected with the vamp’s jaw, dislocating the lower mandible.

  My attacker responded by throwing his left shoulder into my chest. I staggered back, almost tripping on the edge of the sidewalk. If using his wounded limb caused him pain, the vamp was too pissed off to notice it. He pressed the attack, slamming his fist into my chest. I fell back. Before I could react, he had me by the throat.

  “Die, wizard,” he hissed. The vampire reared his head back, viper-like fangs extended. I raised my right arm, holding the cane against the vampire’s dislocated jaw to protect myself. My other hand dug into my jacket, trying to find the holy water bulbs. Seeing my defensive gesture, the vamp latched onto my arm, snaking his head above the wooden cane and sinking his fangs into the flesh of my forearm. The first burst of paralytic poison hit my bloodstream and I screamed.

  When my arm didn’t go limp, the vampire pulled his fangs loose. The brief second of confusion was all the time I needed. My left hand found one of the bulbs. I smashed the small globe against the side of his face.

  If you’ve ever seen what acid does to human flesh, you know what holy water does to vampires. Skin sloughed off the vamp’s cheek and orbital bone. His left eye dissolved into something like chunky milk. T
hick black blood oozed from the cavity. The vampire released me and began screaming. I ducked and put my shoulder into his gut, throwing him off balance.

  Putting some distance between us, I saw a large puddle of water in the grass on the pillar’s side of the railroad tracks. I stood on the opposite side of the puddle, facing the wounded vampire. The monster took a moment or two to notice me.

  “See what I did there,” I said. “I don’t like it when people try to shoot me. Leaves a bad taste in my mouth.”

  The vampire roared and took a step to bull rush me again. I slipped the end of my cane into the puddle, siphoned off the energy I could need to pull off my plan, and said, “Salio aqua.”

  The muddy water burst upward as if it had been shot from a water hose. Raising my hand with my palm facing the rising cascade, I routed the remaining energy into two spells.

  “Glacio. Adigo.”

  The water froze in the same moment the energy spell blasted it, fragmenting the mass of ice into a multitude of shards. All of them flew forward, straight into the vampire. The smaller pieces simply broke apart on impact. The larger pieces were foot-long spikes. I heard wet sounds as ice tore through flesh.

  When my vision was no longer obstructed, I could see four of the large spikes were jutting from the vampire’s chest. One had managed to slice his throat on the left side, leaving a gaping wound almost to the bone. Another ice lance had impaled him through the forehead.

  I slumped against my cane, fatigue draining almost all my strength. I heard police and ambulance sirens. The police could handle the human passenger. When the vampire woke up, however, it would gorge itself on the first person it saw.

  Pulling in a small amount of energy, I said, “Tumulus.”

  The vampire’s body sunk as the earth beneath him shifted. He was dragged four or five feet down, entombing the torpid bloodsucker. By the time the police cars pulled up, I was seated next to Deputy Blackwell, who had her badge raised for the newcomers. No sense in getting shot again.

  Lester showed up an hour later. Someone had asked who Angela’s supervisor was and she’d given them Marks’ phone number. The responding sheriff’s deputies had been asking me variations of the same questions for the past twenty minutes. All of them found my version of events suspect. Tell people you get shot at, no problem. Tell them you raised a pillar of stone from the road and they think you’re on drugs.

 

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