I hesitated, searching his face. “Why did Ryuu offer his assistance?” I asked. “Does he lead the…Shinobi?” I asked, choosing Ryuu’s preferred word rather than ninja, although I wasn’t certain of the difference—or if there even was one.
Yín hesitated longer in his response than I had in the question. “That is something you must come to learn on your own, I think. I cannot answer for others, but…I believe fortune has favored you in him. Outside of training his men, I have only heard him speak three times in my years here.” His eyes were intense as he ticked up a single finger. “Each time was directly to Xuanwu. And he spoke as an equal.”
Yín bowed once more and backed away three paces before turning away and leaving me to stand in the garden with the two guards—who had been so studiously quiet that I had entirely forgotten about them.
“You guys should get a radio or something,” I said.
They bowed their chins in understanding but didn’t meet my eyes. They seemed…afraid. Of me or Ryuu? Or maybe they just really hated music and were trying to be polite.
I climbed into my battered Geo Metro and drove away, staring at every shadow I drove past, wondering if Ryuu was already stalking me.
Speaking to Xuanwu as an equal…
Later. A better understanding of the mysteries of the Shinobi would not help me tonight.
Chapter 51
I’d gotten some much needed sleep last night, a good meal this morning, and meditating at Xuanwu’s house had polished my mind, clearing it of useless factors that only threatened to slow me down. I had needed a clear head for what would happen when I confronted Roland. I had no new insights or changes of heart, but I had needed to verify where my heart stood on the matter. After everything I had learned over the last few days, I’d made my decision. The majority of my focused meditations had been me recalling my visit through the Doors, imagining a world where I had already succeeded in my mission during the blood moon, envisioning my plan in perfect detail, in perfect execution, and the ramifications that would follow my victory.
I had secretly held the Mask of Despair—the silver butterfly charm—in my lap or hand the entire morning, getting to know it on a subconscious level, allowing it to touch my flesh as I meditated. Spending a brief amount of time in Xuanwu’s home had really brought on a hunger for slowing down to speed up.
Finally having my own set of wheels and some time to kill, I’d spent the rest of the day running errands, checking around town, and generally getting an understanding of the city’s new groove—the pulse. To all outward appearances, my hometown functioned as it always had. I’d driven by numerous police cruisers and had been surprised to see what I took as two distinctly different camps within the men in blue. The older, grizzled police officers had grim, harder looks on their faces, while the younger officers displayed greasy, pleased smiles. The old dogs knew something strange was going on and didn’t like it. The young wolves had less concern for duty and obligation to Kansas City’s citizens and liked their newfound freedom.
Whenever I drove through a neighborhood that Claire had indicated as a supernatural hotbed of one faction or another, I had found windows shuttered, people not lingering outdoors, and an increased police presence—of the younger, greasier variety.
In fact, there was increased police presence everywhere—except Roland’s church. Or, more specifically, the police had cordoned off a two or three block radius around Roland’s church, even barricading the streets and forcing people away. I wondered if that was Alucard’s work or the usual preparation for Roland’s Friday night Black Mass. It served my purposes—less potential for collateral damage—so I didn’t really care that much.
I’d—very, very carefully—checked out Abundant Angel Catholic Church, but hadn’t gotten very close when I noticed a surprising number of SHITs patrolling the area as far as a block out from the property itself. Claire was in there somewhere, hopefully safe in the cells far down below, but I couldn’t do anything about that right now. I just hoped I could count on Eae to do his part. He’d had a good performance last night—which had surprised me. Not that he’d honored his word, but that he had acted in the gray area—on the word of a woman who had already been involved with one angel falling. Despite his support, the thought had to have crossed his mind—that maybe the world was better off without Callie Penrose.
Then again, the current state of Kansas City was the result of a city mourning the White Rose—whether they were aware of it or not. The devil you knew, I guessed.
The carefully concocted story Claire was supposed to tell her jailers combined with Eae’s supposed duel with this new demon in town should be enough to get the Shepherds there tonight. I had a backup plan if it wasn’t enough to lead the sheep here, but if the first steps of my plan fell apart, the rest would quickly become a crapshoot with a high body count.
The wake of Callie Penrose would be a night for the history books, one way or another.
Roland and Fabrizio would be drawn out to catch a glimpse of the White Rose’s killer—for differing reasons—and I would have everyone’s attention for a brief amount of time. Long enough, I hoped.
I’d run my last errand of the day to prepare for my showdown outside Roland’s church, and returned to the Geo Metro to find a small origami swan tucked neatly beneath the door handle. A single drop of blood painted the pretty lips of the pretty little swan. I heard the scuffle of boots approach from the depths of the adjacent alley, and a young, greasy-looking man was shoved down onto his knees. He had a gag stuffed into his mouth, and a long metal wire constricted his throat, the end trailing off into the depths of the shaded alley like a leash. I sensed a familiar presence in that darkness, but the wide, terrified eyes of the kneeling vampire before me would have announced who the delivery guy had been better than a nametag.
Or a bloodthirsty origami swan.
The vampire also had a red ribbon tied around his chest, knotted into an elaborate bow—wrapped up like a birthday gift. I smiled, shaking my head slightly as I shot a look into the darkness. Old Death’s good friend stared back, unseen, and I knew he was smiling. Ryuu.
I sensed more than just Ryuu in the depths of the shadows, and more eyes watching me from the roof of the buildings towering over the alley, but I didn’t try to find them. Shadows had been given life in Kansas City, and it was safest to let them simply be. Curiosity killed the cat, and they were working for me, so I granted them their wish to remain unseen.
I studied the red-eyed vampire before me and finally tugged his gag free, letting him pant for a moment before I leaned down close, right in his face.
“Did you know the White Rose?” I asked.
He nodded quickly. “I’ve seen her before. At Haven’s compound. She came with Master Roland. Before he was a vampire,” he elaborated nervously.
“And do you know who I am?” I asked, smiling. “What do I look like?”
“A demon!” He gasped. “Meridiana. A very…pretty demon!” he whined, smiling crookedly as if hoping flattery would save him.
I pulled out a vial from the folds of my jacket, tilting it back and forth to show the vampire what shifted inside. My blood. “What do you see?” I asked, popping the top off.
His eyes danced from me to the vial, but he sniffed at the vial obediently. “Blood and liquid silver?” he stammered, looking uncertain.
I nodded pensively, recapping the vial. Then I closed my eyes and called upon my Silvers, letting a silver liquid form into a ball above my palm, growing larger with each passing second. I had used my Silvers in the Doors to repair the Spear of Longinus, to merge with a broken katana. I imagined that exact sword in perfect detail, now, letting the orb of silver liquid grow and grow, ignoring the horrified whimpers before me.
I flung my hand against the brick wall, exerting my will into the act and keeping the broken katana firmly in my mind as I did. A metallic clang and the sound of crumbling brick echoed sharply in the narrow space and I finally opened my eyes. An exact
replica of the katana Fabrizio had allowed me to take into the Doors was embedded firmly into the brick and mortar.
The vampire panted desperately, murmuring incoherently as if praying for salvation. “What did you see?” I demanded.
He opened his mouth wordlessly, eyes dancing from me to the sword like a rat. “A sword called from the depths of Hell…” he rasped hopelessly.
“That’s it? A sword appearing from Hell?” I asked, locking my eyes onto his.
He nodded jerkily.
“And who stands before you now,” I asked leaning close so he could see my face.
“Meridiana!” he gasped, repeating his earlier answer. He was too afraid to lie.
I nodded, turning away to hide my smile of relief. My plan would work.
“Please. Please just let me go. I didn’t do anything—”
The wire jerked tight and a form flowed up directly behind him. Dark fingers flickering with midnight black vapor snatched him by the hair and jerked his head back to stare up at Ryuu’s face leaning over him from behind. “You have done quite a lot, vampire. I’ve seen what you and your friends do to pass the time.”
I calmly strode over to the sword, unsheathing it from the stone with a surprisingly gentle whisper. I turned my back on the vampire, keeping my breath measured and calm. “Women?” I asked the Shinobi behind me.
“Yes.”
I swiftly stepped backwards with one foot, crouching into a forward-facing lunge, and felt a faint, satisfying resistance.
The vampire behind me coughed wetly, a ragged, shocked breath struggling to fill his pierced lung.
My katana made no sound as I withdrew it from his body, still not looking at him. I took a slow breath and spun, decapitating the vampire in one swift motion. Blood fountained from his headless torso before it fell to the ground, the head rolling grotesquely as it came to a stop, face-down in an oily puddle. I studied my blade, giving it a harsh flick of my wrist. Blood flew from the edge and I lifted it to my face, inspecting it.
An exact replica to the one Fabrizio had given me.
And the vampire had given me my answer.
Ryuu practically purred with satisfaction, staring at my face with an approving smirk. “It looks like I’m just as good as I thought,” I said out loud, referring to my Demonskin. Only after Ryuu’s chuckle did I realize it had sounded like I was bragging about my killing the vampire. I didn’t correct myself. Both were true.
“Xuanwu asked me to pass on a message,” Ryuu said.
I turned to look at him.
“Abandon all hope, ye who enter here is a fitting phrase above a locked door. And the door to Roland’s church deserves such a warning.”
I considered that in silence for a few moments. “Thank you.” I turned away, staring out at the streets, deep in thought.
I’d needed to make sure they wouldn’t all suddenly recognize me the moment I used my Silvers in the physical sense—that my Silver sword wouldn’t suddenly give me away.
Because I needed this sword. This exact katana.
Absently, I wondered why Ryuu hadn’t seen me as a demon—if it was an extension of Xuanwu’s perception, or simply because he was a ninja warrior badass killing machine. “I’m going to use this Demonskin against them. Be ready.”
He glanced over his shoulder at a very strange, almost unnoticeable sound. He slowly turned back to me, a determined frown on his face. “They have the First Murderer. Cain, son of Eve,” he said flatly. My breath caught instinctively, but I managed to nod calmly, hoping Alucard could do his part. “He was restrained, scraped up, but otherwise unharmed.”
“Who brought him in?” I whispered in a frosty tone.
“The werewolves, Paradise and Lost.”
I nodded very slightly. “If any harm comes to him…”
Ryuu nodded determinedly. “They will die first.”
I shook my head. “Not just first…they die slowly. No stealthy kills. You will incite fear with their slaughter.”
He nodded calmly. “The death of a thousand cuts.”
I wasn’t sure what that was—or if it was literally possible to cut someone one thousand times without killing them. “Use silver.”
“You tend your garden and I will tend mine,” he said, not unkindly but with authority, reminding me he was not a servant but an ally.
“Only red-eyes die tonight, Ryuu. Everyone else is just ignorant or scared. Red-eyes have earned the chance…to hear Old Death’s name whispered in their ears.”
I crouched down before the growing pool of vampire blood, dipping two fingers into it. I lifted the bloody paint to my chest, pausing to shoot Ryuu a questioning look.
He grinned like a wolf.
So I began to paint my white ninja garb with vampire blood, drawing a large Cross Pattée from neck to navel, nipple to nipple. Finished, I wiped my fingers off on the vampire’s shirt.
Ryuu nodded his approval. “I will spread the word. Red-eyes only. And on your signal.”
I dipped my chin. “See you there.”
“No, White Rose,” he said in a breathy whisper, directly behind me. “You won’t.”
Then he was gone. Something about his tone let me know it hadn’t been a personal threat or warning. Just a simple statement of fact. He and his Shinobi would not be seen as they brought death to the streets of Kansas City.
Silence would fall. And blood would flow.
I wondered where Alucard fit into Cain’s abduction, and where he would ultimately stand when it was time to lay our cards on the table. He’d tasted my blood, but…
Roland’s bond had still been there when I checked with my Silvers.
One way or another, we would find out which blood bond was stronger.
Which warrior was better. Whether the student could defeat the master.
I climbed into my car, staring up at the sky and waiting for the sun to begin its descent. I’d tried calling Alucard, but he hadn’t answered—either having betrayed me or unable to speak openly as deep within enemy territory as he was.
I knew Cain was tough—that he could withstand more torture than most men…
But anything done to him would be returned threefold on the wielder, courtesy of me.
I would even let Dorian record it to share with his network of viewers.
A fitting season premiere to the Return of the White Rose.
Chapter 52
When I arrived outside the church, an alarming number of people had shown up for the event. Perfect. With everyone present, I no longer had to be as careful about using magic. They were already here and ready to spill blood. Anything they saw would either make them see who I really was, or they would chock it up to me being a demon with all sorts of powers—especially since I’d been strong enough to kill the White Rose.
I’d used my magic to cause a mild distraction at one of the police barricades, and then a sloppy concealment spell to sneak my Geo Metro past the cordon. Luckily, it was a tiny car—small enough to easily conceal with my spell and to drive onto the sidewalk to sneak around the barricade. I’d parked on a street pointing directly at Roland’s church, and waited in silence, holding the Mask of Despair in my hands, bonding with it.
I felt it was important to do. Rather than just slapping it on, as Nate had informed me. No. We needed to have a different relationship. Not just to be used when needed and then tucked out of sight. Pandora had cautioned against leaving our toys on shelves.
I waited until the Blood Moon hung heavy in the sky—large and sinister—casting a reddish-orange glow over the City of Fountains. Then I turned the Mask of Despair into my silver butterfly charm and shoved it in a pocket—a different one than the silver butterfly charm Nate had given me. It would be embarrassing to mix them up.
Since entrances were pivotal, I turned the key, shifted into drive, and floored the accelerator towards the crowd standing in my way. Seeing and hearing a car at all was startling, so everyone got out of the way in a hurry.
Then I was
speeding directly onto the church property, not slowing down as the grinning vampires grew larger in my windshield. Their grins immediately slipped, realizing too late that I had no intention of stopping. I barreled right into them, mowing a large chunk of them down before I opened the door and jumped out, using a shield of air to slow my roll.
Heh.
The car slammed into the door like a crushed can and instantly vaporized into red mist.
But I did count about a dozen vampires felled by the little hunk of metal.
I kept my magic up—in order to keep the other fifty or more vampires and just as many wolves back as I assessed my hard work with a disappointed frown.
Muttering darkly under my breath, I studied the church for a moment. This close, I noticed a fine mist surrounding the church. It throbbed with power and menace, making me want to turn away. It was powerful, and even though I could usually see a ward and have some inkling how it worked, how it was made, and what it did…
This one was an enigma. It seemed to want absolutely no one near it—except for those bonded to Roland. The Mask of Despair quivered in my pocket, but I ignored it. Too soon.
We had a show to play out, first.
I silently walked back to the street, feeling absolutely everyone staring at me. I stared right back. Shepherds stood on one side of me and vampires and wolves on the other—those guarding the front of the church trickling into their ranks two-by-two, but still leaving a contingent back as reserves.
Dorian and his Hellfire Club stood between the two—the ones I had almost run over on my way towards the church. I even saw Xuanwu standing before two bald monks in white robes. He drew a lot of attention—many having no idea who he was or why he was here. I mean, he was a giant, frozen stone turtle standing head and shoulders above everyone else, and he was too calm. His eyes settled on me for no longer than they settled on anyone else, like he was watching a sporting event. He held his sword in a stone claw like a cane.
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