Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2

by Shayne Silvers

  I suppressed a shudder. If Roland could make a Renfield out of a vampire as strong as Henri, who was to say Roland hadn’t already completed the pair, making both of his lieutenants his Renfields? His blood slaves. Or that he intended to when his schedule cleared up. The look in Alucard’s non-crimson eyes told me the latter was currently on his mind.

  Alucard hadn’t let slip any hint that he knew of Roland’s ultimate goal, but I knew the Daywalker was exceedingly clever, a Master Vampire in his own right before he ever became a Daywalker. His ability to overthrow the city through politicking was proof of that.

  But what did that mean for me, now? I wasn’t about to offer up answers. Not yet. I simply couldn’t risk it. I needed to see Alucard prove which line of the sand he was on with action, not words. To burn the bridge behind him, so to speak.

  “You know why I’m here, Alucard. Why I kidnapped you…” I said, taking a big risk. “I need a way into the church. I need to see Roland face to face. Now more than ever…”

  Alucard was shaking his head before I even finished speaking. “He’s not the man you remember, Callie. Trust me. I don’t even know what he is anymore. I almost ran screaming when he passed me in the hall the other day, so unfamiliar with seeing him that I feared he was there to kill me. He was muttering under his breath about a castle and the blood moon tomorrow night. He didn’t even seem to notice I was there.”

  The three of us grew very still, but Alucard hadn’t noticed and kept on talking.

  “I think he’s starting to lose it,” he finally said, glancing up at me warily as if fearing my response. “I don’t think seeing you miraculously alive will do anything but give him that final push over the edge,” he said very softly.

  I nodded, trying to keep my face relaxed and my voice devoid of any particular interest as I asked, “What is happening tomorrow night during this Blood Moon?”

  Alucard frowned absently, not seeming overly concerned. “A sermon. Just like he does every Friday. I call it his black mass,” he muttered. “But not where anyone can overhear.”

  I stared at him blankly. Roland did this every Friday? If he was attempting a ritual tomorrow night, maybe he’d begun practicing the steps a long time ago. To perfect the spell without anyone noticing. I nodded to myself, getting more confident with each passing second.

  I looked up to find Alucard studying me silently. “I hate to break it to you, but if you really do know a way to get out of Kansas City, take it. If you happen to have an extra pass, I wouldn’t turn it down. Give me an oath to swear and my life is yours. I only came here in the first place because Roland called me, sounding distressed. I figured I could hang out with him for a few days, get him back on his feet. He didn’t tell me about your disappearance or any of this other crazy shit he had planned, and by the time I learned about it, it was too late.”

  He was silent for a few moments, then he finally let out a breath. “I know how this all looks. I could be working for Roland right now, feeding you just enough information to buy your trust so I could escape with you. I would suspect the same if I was in your shoes. But it’s not like I have much choice. Disobey Roland and I die. I’m just lucky not to have winded up like Henri,” he muttered. “Yet.” Then he barked out a humorless laugh. “Who would have thought I would have ever been thankful for imprisonment?” He noticed us watching him and waved a hand. “Do yourself a favor and get out of town while you still can. You don’t need an invite to my pity party. Just…” he cut off abruptly, averting his eyes in shame, “tell Nate that I’m sorry. That I would rather die fighting by his side than live forever like this,” he whispered, vehemently.

  The barely bottled up fury in his voice when speaking about Nate served to instantly snuff out my own building frustration. To see him respond so emotionally…

  It wasn’t the reaction of a powerful vampire losing a powerful ally. It was a man talking about losing his friend. I found my anger cooling to learn that at least Alucard still maintained that sliver of honor.

  Nate was an arrogant bastard, but he had a roguish charm and a streak of loyalty a mile wide. Despite his many mistakes and flaws, he really was good at picking up strays and putting them back on their own two feet. In building families—not just an army of allies.

  And making them stronger as individuals through tough love. A different playbook from Roland.

  I took a calming breath, closing my eyes for a moment. “Do you have any word on Nate?” I asked in a soft tone. The last time I had seen Nate had been inside the Doors, and he’d been living on a mountain, looking like he really needed to get back to civilization before he turned savage. He had looked haggard, worn out, exhausted, and a hint of madness had danced in those green eyes.

  Then again, that madness could have been because I declined to accept the Horseman’s Mask he had offered me. Thinking of Nate, I felt my stomach flutter as Xuanwu’s request whispered in my ear again. That his men could follow hope’s murderer.

  Alucard smiled distantly, staring off at nothing. “Tory tells me that Nate fought Mordred again in Fae, but that’s it. Hearing what’s happened here…we agreed it was best not to give me any information that might be…taken from me. I do know Nate’s apparently been living in Fae ever since that fight. Almost a year, now. That’s all I know for certain.”

  I frowned in alarm. He’d been living in Fae? For a year? With the time flowing strangely between our realms, did that mean he’d actually spent years in Fae or a few months? Hearing this, I also wondered again if my seeing him on my trip through the Doors had also been real—like my meeting with Starlight or my parents outside the church the night they abandoned me.

  I put my concerns for Nate on a shelf and digested everything I’d learned so far.

  There was one way I might be able to get a definitive answer about the demon disguise infecting me, and it was looking more and more like I needed to entertain it, despite the risks to my soul. I knew no one was going to like that plan, so I wisely kept my mouth shut.

  All in all, it was gearing up to be a really shitty day.

  I settled my gaze on Alucard. “We’re not going anywhere,” I told him firmly, drumming my fingers across my knees. “We need answers, and you need to put proof to your words. Let’s marry those two goals. You and Cain will find out anything you can on Roland’s Black Mass tomorrow—even if you think it’s trivial. Can you explain away your abduction? Maybe say that the demon left you alone and you broke free,” I mused, tapping my lips. Then I grinned delightedly. “She was too preoccupied speaking with another demon to notice your escape.”

  Alucard flashed his fangs wickedly, a spark of anticipation igniting deep in his eyes at the newfound sense of purpose. “Give them something to fear that’s more important than my abduction—another demon. That’s genius,” he said, nodding his approval.

  I shrugged. “It’s a talent of mine,” I said, repeating his earlier humble brag. “You sure you’re up for it?” I asked, glancing at his wrists.

  He nodded, eyeing the Vampyr bracelets warily. “Nothing a little sunshine won’t fix.” He turned to me after a brief pause. “Does this mean you trust me?”

  I smiled darkly at him. “Of course. That’s why I’m sending the world’s first murderer with you. To keep that trust alive…or not.”

  Cain grinned delightedly. “Cool,” he said, thumbing his dagger fondly.

  Alucard sighed, nodding his head in resignation. It was better than any other option open to him and he knew it.

  “Good. I’ve got a few things of my own to look into. We will meet back here tonight.”

  Cain extended a hand, offering to help Alucard to his feet. The two studied each other in silence for a moment or two before Alucard finally traded grips with him, dusting off his hands immediately after. Cain smirked at the potential slight, but Alucard may have just been doing it out of habit. Noticing the twinkle in his eyes, I doubted it.

  “Follow me, disco ball,” Cain said, “we need to find some wheels
.” He paused to frown at me suspiciously, as if only just now realizing we would be left unsupervised. “And what things are you going to look into?

  I shrugged innocently. “Claire and I will head to Solomon’s Temple to hopefully find some answers from a wise man. They are in short supply here…” They each narrowed their eyes at me. “I need to ask some uncomfortable questions. And I need to check on Phix.”

  Cain’s gaze grew harder. “And murder hope…”

  Alucard flinched, catching the reference to Nate Temple. “Hold on a damned minute—”

  “Let’s keep talk of zoo animals out of this,” I told Cain meaningfully, interrupting Alucard. Cain nodded in understanding—no blabbing about what Xuanwu had told us about Dracula—but Alucard looked to have about three dozen new questions. Cain was going to have a rough day. “Keep Alucard honest, learn what you can, and meet back here tonight.”

  “You will stay out of trouble?” Cain pressed. Then he grunted. “Never mind.” He rounded on Claire, pointing a commanding finger. “You, woman. Keep her out of trouble or I’ll spank your hairy ass.”

  “You say the sweetest things,” Claire grinned. “I’ll be sure to tell Kenai about you.”

  Cain grinned. “You do that. But keep her safe.” His smile shifted to something cold and final—no longer amused but a deadly warning.

  Claire nodded, unperturbed. “I only just got her back. I won’t let her out of my sight.”

  With one last wary look, the two men finally turned to leave the cave.

  Once confident we were alone, Claire turned to me. “What stupid idea is percolating in that head of yours? Which domino are we really knocking down first?”

  I smiled, letting out a breath. “I love you, Claire.”

  She shrugged self-importantly. “Hairy chests don’t solve problems, they create problems. Women, on the other hand, create solutions to end problems,” she said matter-of-factly. “But I will be there to keep your head on your shoulders. Figuratively and literally.”

  “I need to make a long-distance phone call.” I wasn’t about to share details until it was too late for her to stop me.

  She studied me suspiciously, just like Cain had. “Call them collect so they have to pay for it. Otherwise, I’m not sure we can afford to borrow more trouble.”

  “Relax. We’re just going to go feed some pigeons,” I said, smiling darkly.

  “I think everyone has made it perfectly clear that you aren’t getting into Abundant Angel,” Claire said. “They Shepherds are a waste of time, anyway. Roland doesn’t care about them,” she said, heavily implying who Roland did care about. Dracula.

  “We’re just going to feed them. Throw out some bread crumbs,” I said innocently, not correcting her misconception.

  She let out a long sigh and nodded. “Well, it’s only wizards, I guess. You’ve thrown down with them often enough.”

  “Sure have,” I said cheerfully, trying not to look guilty.

  Chapter 28

  We had driven to an old abandoned warehouse I had once been held captive in. Good times. Back then, my captors had intended well and had prepared the space for my imprisonment accordingly. I was banking on that preparation now, knowing I would need every bit of it—plus some—to survive. The juice was worth the squeeze, though. I hoped.

  Claire looked ready to shift at the slightest sound of a rat or gust of wind against the exterior walls of the metal building. She knew when I was being shady, even when I was trying to hide it. And she’d been to this place before too—when she’d invaded it to try and save me.

  “I don’t think Shepherds hang out here,” she muttered sarcastically.

  I smirked, finishing up the circle before wiping loose hair out of my eyes with my forearm. “Who said anything about Shepherds?” I asked sweetly, climbing back to my feet to inspect my work. It was flawless, in my opinion. Then again, I didn’t really have a guidebook on how to do this, and had never spent much time practicing rituals of any sort. I had never been interested in this witchy type of magic—rituals, spells, and complex incantations. I was more of a fast and hard kind of wizard.

  I was hoping that I’d stored up a fair amount of good will with my intended target, and that it would be enough to let me skate by any steps I may have overlooked.

  Although banking on Divine Intervention seemed a bad bet, I was willing to take the odds.

  I took a deep breath, clicked my heels together for good measure, prayed that I remembered enough of Roland’s teachings—ironically—to not be smited on the spot and…

  I spoke Archangel Michael’s name out loud in a bold, authoritative, confident voice, pulling deep on what I remembered both Roland and Father David trying to hammer into my memory over the last decade.

  “Archangel Michael! Archistrategos! Supreme Commander of the Heavenly Hosts! I call upon your aid!”

  Claire gasped in horror, having no idea what I’d intended. The walls rocked as if a mortar had struck the ground outside, or as if a giant fist had pummeled the wall itself—like an apartment neighbor banging on the wall at three in the morning, telling me to pipe the hell down.

  Like a good neighbor, I decided to turn the volume knob up instead.

  And I spoke Michael’s name a second time. “Archangel Michael! The sword in God’s right hand! The Angel of Death!” I bellowed.

  The very walls of the warehouse began to rattle and quake, metal squealing and protesting even as some of the bolts cracked and snapped, raining dust down from the rafters. Claire squeaked behind me, practically panting, but not daring to speak out loud and potentially ruin my plan—not that it would have mattered one way or another.

  My stomach fluttered nervously as I prepared to say it a third time. “Archangel Mic—”

  A sharp crack of lightning struck the ground about an inch from my foot, ruining my circle, numbing my feet, and singeing my eyebrows. The temperature in the warehouse dropped by about thirty degrees the millisecond before I was tackled by a manifestation of an Angel’s sheer will, sending me grunting and gasping to fly across the room, bowling Claire over behind me like a struck pin. Even as she fell, I heard the familiar sound of fabric exploding as she shifted into her better than ten-foot-tall polar bear form. She roared a challenge at the threat, her new form ready, willing, and able to take a helluva lot more damage than most could dish out.

  I tried to get up only to realize a hand the size of my torso held me down, throbbing with an arctic chill that threatened to freeze the very marrow in my bones. Icy vapor clouded around me, veiling my attacker, but a face suddenly emerged from the fog—a face as cold, merciless, and brutal as any I had ever seen. A warrior’s face. A veteran’s face. The face of a man who had lost brothers in a war that my puny mortal mind could not even pretend to begin to comprehend.

  And…it wasn’t Michael.

  “You ignorant, vapid, witless child!” Eae snapped, his teeth actually clacking together as if he was itching to bite my nose off. His breath was like dry ice, making my tongue instantly dry out and turn numb. “What devilry is this?” he demanded.

  “Eae…” I managed in a breathless whisper. “Imagine seeing a guy like you in a place like this. Remember the last time we—”

  He lifted me a few inches from the ground and then slammed me back down, banging my head against the solid concrete hard enough to make my vision wink out for a moment. Claire snarled furiously, claws scraping at the concrete in warning, but any direct attack on her part would only result in my instant death. Eae had me dead to rights so didn’t even bother looking up at her.

  I struggled to focus on him, realizing that he looked a lot angrier—and more powerful—than the last time I had seen him. Than any time I had seen him.

  “How dare you speak about the last time we met,” he snarled viciously. “I don’t know how you broke through the barrier—or what you hoped to accomplish here—but I vow to send you right back to Hell at my earliest convenience.” His arm quivered, and his massive claws began
to tighten on my chest as he shook me, eyes dancing with rage, making my head flop back and forth like a bobblehead doll.

  I stared at his great massive wings—like clouds of stone, glass, and metal fragments suspended in shifting gel. Except the tips of his feathers looked sharp enough to shave a layer off of a hair follicle. Claire’s warning growl changed in pitch, almost a coughing bark, and I realized she was aiming it away from Eae.

  Eae’s grip lessened marginally, and I flicked my eyes to see three men staring at us.

  And one of them was familiar.

  Arthur—the homeless man I had introduced to Father David for a job at Abundant Angel Catholic Church. He looked harder, his hair swept back into a warrior’s ponytail, and a long scar split his cheek, deep enough to now be a permanent indent in his flesh. His eyes glittered with calm, cool authority. Determination. I couldn’t look into those eyes without feeling both pain and fear. That ultimately, his predicament was all my fault. Both for current events and for me placing him in the hands of the church—to be scooped up by Fabrizio as a future Shepherd thanks to Roland’s ex-communication.

  And no one but me even knew who he truly was. At least it had been a secret the last time I had seen him. Even from this distance, I knew the two hooded figures flanking him were wizards, and although young, they looked battle-hardened. Shepherds in training. Just like I had once been under Roland’s tutelage. And look how well that had turned out for me—pinned beneath an avenging angel of the Lord and stuff. Their careers were on the fast-track.

  Their rise to the ranks of full Shepherd was predicated on a current Shepherd falling in battle, and I couldn’t help but grimace inwardly at the irony there. One man rising as another fell—just like the angels in that ancient battle with Lucifer.

  “I thought I smelled SHIT,” I murmured, smiling faintly to ease the tension. “Shepherds in training,” I explained.

  Arthur’s lips set into a grim line, finding no humor in my quip. “If you would be so kind,” he began, turning to address Eae with a respectful dip of his chin, “kill the demon or incapacitate her. We could keep her in the cells below the church until we figure out how she slipped past the Red Pastor’s barrier. Or how she intended to siphon up more of her ilk from Hell and smuggle them through this cursed barrier. Then you can send her back home.”