Vonnie followed his gaze. “It’s a vampire thing. Don’t worry about it,” she said. “So, we’re going now?”
“Indeed,” said the sidhe. “I believe the Wild Hunt remains in the Court’s inner chamber. It should be empty otherwise, since that august body will not reconvene for several hours yet. We will go there and see what can be done.”
This was apparently too much for the leader of the guards, who straightened in outrage. “You would take a demon to the inner seat of Fae power?” he demanded, aghast.
Daeana turned a cold eye on him. “As those are my orders, given by the very Court you are so eager to defend—yes, I would,” she said blandly.
The sidhe opened a portal, once more cutting through the layered protections surrounding the Court building as though they weren’t there. Albigard stepped through, and the sidhe gestured Nigellus and the others to do the same. Len followed after Vonnie, and the cat-sidhe brought up the rear.
The echoing space on the other side of the portal was dark, and smelled of the ever-present perfumed flowering vines that covered so much of Dhuinne. Vonnie reached for Len’s arm as the flickering light of the portal extinguished, and they steadied each other in the dark until Daeana murmured a few low words. The huge flowers hanging all around the chamber began to glow with bioluminescence, casting pale blue light across everything.
Well... everything except the roiling black mass of oily smoke, covering the empty space where petitioners usually stood before the Court dais.
Daeana stared at the Wild Hunt rather fixedly for a few moments.
“That,” she said, “is decidedly disconcerting.”
The cat-sidhe walked forward. “As I know you to be one who serves Dhuinne faithfully, you are in no danger from the Hunt.”
Nigellus also eyed the Fae archetype of death hovering quiescent before them. “It does appear somewhat... diminished, compared to the last time I encountered it.” He shifted the burden in his arms, and Len got a good look at Ransley Thorpe for the first time since staring into his sightless blue eyes during the battle in St. Louis.
Not to put too fine a point on it, both Rans and Zorah looked way too good for having been dead so long. Nigellus, on the other hand, didn’t look so hot. It made Len wonder if the demon had been pouring power into their bodies this entire time to keep them from decaying.
“Did the cat-sidhe inform you of the events beneath the world-tree?” Albigard asked. “I am uncertain whether this would be better attempted there.”
“I have received a report on the matter, yes.” Nigellus moved to one of the overgrown benches in the gallery and carefully placed Rans’ body on it. Guthrie followed suit, placing Zorah on the bench next to him, with their heads lying close together.
“Putting aside the rather fascinating concept of the legendary Chaima being a real, physical place,” the demon continued, “it sounds as though the circumstances surrounding your resurrection were somewhat different. The roots of the world tree did not absorb Ransley and Ms. Bright’s essences. The Hunt flung them directly into the realm you call the Endless Void.”
“I do not think Chaima can help the process, in this instance,” the cat-sidhe agreed. “Either the demon will be able to access the Void through the Hunt, or he won’t.”
“Next question,” Len asked, unable to help himself. “Is the Hunt likely to think that having a demon poking around in its guts is in the best interest of Dhuinne?”
“That,” Albigard said grimly, “is a very interesting question.”
“I will attempt to convey the context,” the sidhe said, and went to commune with the damned cloud while Daeana looked on curiously.
“If it helps prevent the resumption of war,” the Seelie warden observed, “it would appear to be in everyone’s best interest.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Nigellus.
Freed of the burden of Zorah’s body, Guthrie came over and put a hand on Len’s shoulder in greeting, before focusing his attention on Vonnie.
“You holding up okay?” he asked quietly.
She nodded. “I’m fine, I told you. Dhuinne’s influence was only a problem when I was too exhausted to keep my eyes open. I’ll warn you if it becomes an issue, Leo. Until then, please don’t fuss.”
Aside from a weird sort of background hum, Len hadn’t noticed any of the effects that made Dhuinne such a fearsome place to outsiders. But without her magic, Vonnie would be vulnerable to its mind-twisting powers... and the way Guthrie’s vampire aura interacted to wilt the rampaging plant life around him was frankly creepy. Nigellus seemed unaffected by his surroundings at first glance, but as Len looked away, he thought for a moment that he saw the ghostly outline of massive, leathery wings in the corner of his vision.
The cat-sidhe straightened away from the coiling edge of the Hunt. “I’ve done what I can. Unfortunately, the circumstances are a bit more complicated than simple self-preservation.”
Daeana snorted. “Well, on the positive side, it’s not as though it can kill him.”
“True,” Nigellus agreed, dry as dust. “Now... if I may proceed?”
The sidhe stepped aside with a little be-my-guest flourish, and the demon took their place. The Wild Hunt coiled restlessly, as though wary of the enemy it had tangled with once before, in St. Louis. Vonnie curled one hand around Len’s arm, and the other around Guthrie’s. Guthrie covered it with his, squeezing. Len glanced at Albigard and found the Fae’s green gaze shining with tightly restrained hope. The Fae crossed his arms; his shoulders a tense line as he turned to watch Nigellus work.
The powerful demon of fate reached a hand into the dark mass, just as the cat-sidhe had done before. It recoiled from him, only to surge back an instant later, enveloping his arm to the shoulder. Nigellus clenched his jaw, and Len blinked as ghostly ram’s horns phased in and out from the sides of his skull for a few seconds before disappearing.
They remained locked that way for long minutes. Nigellus’ eyes glowed hellfire-red in the low light. The Hunt writhed and twisted, neither attacking nor fleeing. It was nerve-wracking to watch—all the more so because Len had absolutely no clue what was actually happening. He kept throwing glances at Albigard in hopes of gaining some kind of insight from the Fae, but his pale face might as well have been cut from marble.
More time passed, and Nigellus grunted, going down on a knee. Vonnie twitched hard, her grip on Len’s arm tightening. For his part, Len tried not to make assumptions when he didn’t understand jack shit about what was going on... but that hadn’t looked good. His suspicion was confirmed a few moments later, when the cat-sidhe made a small noise of disappointment.
“He does not have the power,” said the shape-shifter.
Albigard let out a low, hissing breath.
And... no.
Just, no.
Something cold and implacable rose in Len’s chest. A solid wave of nope that wasn’t content to stand by and watch Nigellus fail after all they’d been through to get here. Before Len truly understood what was happening, an icy rush of power sank through his skin, only to explode out of him in the next moment... aimed straight at the demon.
TWENTY
VONNIE JERKED her hand away from Len’s arm in the instant before the crackling blue energy hit Nigellus. The Hunt flinched from the blast of death energy. The demon did not. The lightning-blast of power sank into him, and Nigellus gritted his teeth. He reached deeper into the swirling mass of blackness, the tendons in his neck standing out. Horns and wings burst from the demon’s body, which seemed to swell with bulk and muscle. Tailored clothing tore.
With a low growl of determination, the terrifying nightmare creature—who’d been a suave man in a business suit mere seconds ago—closed his fist around something intangible and yanked.
The Wild Hunt howled in surprise, swirling away to coalesce near one corner of the chamber’s vaulted ceiling. Which, Len supposed, was a preferable response to freaking out and killing everyone in the chamber.
&nbs
p; Nigellus’ massive chest rose and fell. His lips remained in their feral snarl, revealing teeth that were very... pointy. He was braced on a hand and a knee, and he wasn’t getting up.
“Someone help me to the bodies,” he ground out.
Guthrie and Albigard hurried forward—which was just as well, since Len might have been able to support one giant wing on, y’know, a good day. Which this wasn’t. In fact, he felt like his knees were about to give way after loosing that unexpected blast of magical power. The three figures staggered down the aisle to the benches where Zorah and Rans’ bodies were laid out. Nigellus reached a clawed hand out to each of the vampires’ foreheads, grasping their skulls.
Several moments passed, and the demon fell to his knees. One wing flopped into the aisle, while the other draped sloppily over the back of the bench in front of him. His hands slid away from the pair’s heads.
“It is done,” he said, while Len tried to decide how much mental capacity to devote to hope, and how much to the faintly hysterical voice jabbering, oh my god, what the hell did I just do?
Zorah and Rans still lay unmoving. No breath expanded their lungs; no pulse throbbed in their carotid arteries. But, then... it wouldn’t, would it? They were vampires.
Daeana had watched the proceedings with crossed arms and a neutral expression. Now, she raised an eyebrow, tilting her head as she examined the collapsed demon. “Such a pity this opportunity did not arise during the war. I think if we were quick enough, we could get him dismembered and the pieces packed in salt before he recovered,” she said to the cat-sidhe.
“I would advise against trying,” the sidhe replied wryly. “And not only because of the Court’s guarantee of safe passage.”
The warden hummed a reluctant noise of agreement. Then her gaze raked over Len before landing on Albigard. “On a related note, you failed to mention that the human vassal you dragged with you to the Fae realm was also a necromancer, son of Oren.”
Albigard’s expression turned flinty. “I strongly suggest forgetting you saw that, Warden.”
“Whereas I would ask you to remember that the human also played a pivotal role in saving Dhuinne,” the cat-sidhe added. “I doubt the Hunt would take it kindly if harm came to him.”
Daeana gave them all a grim smile. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s more than my job’s worth—on both counts.”
With Guthrie and Albigard arrayed watchfully by Nigellus’ side, the demon took a deep breath and closed his eyes. His horns and wings retracted, his bulk diminishing until a striking, human-looking man in torn clothing sprawled next to the vampires’ unmoving bodies. He rose, bracing himself on the benches for a moment before straightening to his full height.
“May we have no cause to meet on the battlefield in the foreseeable future, Warden,” he said. “That is, after all, the goal of this entire exercise.”
“Did it work, though?” Vonnie blurted.
Nigellus looked down at the pair lying on the bench. “Their souls once more reside in their bodies. It is as well they are bound together—I would not have been able to seek them separately.” His whiskey-brown eyes fell on Len, no longer glowing with hellfire. “In fact, I would not have been able to retrieve them at all without the extra power. They owe their lives to you.”
The words skittered across Len’s mind like water on an orange peel, not really penetrating. Still, everyone was looking at him as if he was expected to respond somehow.
“I don’t even understand what I did,” he said, deflecting. “But, if it helped them, I’m... glad?”
He sought out Albigard, hoping for a helping hand, or at least some kind of distraction and change of subject. The Fae returned his gaze with one that was visibly fond, which only succeeded in making Len feel even more flustered.
Fortunately, Guthrie saved him.
“I assume the inner sanctum of the Fae Court isn’t an appropriate venue for these two to recover from having their souls shoved back in their bodies,” he said. “Is there someplace private we can stay until they’re in a condition to be transported back to Earth?” He raised an eyebrow at Nigellus. “What about it? Do they just need to rest now, or what?”
The demon took another deep breath. “Yes, I daresay it will take a few hours for them to regain their mental bearings and realize they’re corporeal again. When they wake up, they’ll need to feed, but they should be all right otherwise.”
“That’s why I’m here,” Guthrie replied. “Vampire blood bank. It will heal them faster than human blood would.”
“As long as you don’t start sniffing around any Fae blood, nightwalker,” Daeana said pointedly.
“Fae blood is disgusting,” Guthrie replied, without missing a beat. He smiled, revealing a hint of fang. “Go on... ask me how I know.”
“Oh, my god. Could we not right now?” Vonnie asked. “Please?”
“Seconded,” Len agreed, in no mood for any more inter-species pissing matches after the last few weeks.
“I will take them back to the accommodations the Court offered us,” said the cat-sidhe. “They may recover there.”
“And as soon as they do, we’ll all be out of your hair,” Guthrie put in. “I don’t think anyone here is in a hurry to extend their travel visa.”
“Perhaps the warden would agree to escort me back to the gateway immediately,” Nigellus said. “My presence in this realm is already unwelcome, and I suspect my presence at the vampires’ bedsides would be doubly so.”
It seemed like a century ago, but Len remembered the battle in St. Louis. Nigellus had frozen the vampires in place, physically preventing them from going to Albigard’s aid when he’d been captured. With that in mind, the demon was probably right.
“As you like, Hellspawn,” Daeana agreed, readily enough. She shot the cat-sidhe a look. “I assume you can contain three vampires, a necromancer, and a human adept without assistance, Elder.”
“I expect I’ll muddle through somehow,” the cat-sidhe agreed.
Daeana shrugged, after giving the Wild Hunt a final, wary look, she gestured with exaggerated courtly elegance to Nigellus, indicating he should precede her.
The demon turned and gave the rest of them a nod of acknowledgement, looking pale to the point of translucence after whatever powers he’d drained to return Rans and Zorah’s souls to their bodies.
“Until we meet again,” he said, and left with his escort.
“Well,” Guthrie said, once they’d gone. “That was exciting. And that demon bastard had better be right about these two waking up, or there’s going to be serious hell to pay.” He paused. “So to speak.”
“I would trust the word of a demon of fate when it comes to souls and their disposition,” the cat-sidhe assured them, before opening a new portal.
“If you say so.” Guthrie leaned down to gather Zorah into his arms again. “Albigard, can you manage all right with this asshole?” He tilted his chin at Rans.
“I will manage,” Albigard said softly, and hauled the vampire’s limp body into a fireman’s carry.
Vonnie took Len’s hand, and the motley group stepped through the cat-sidhe’s portal, leaving the Wild Hunt behind.
* * *
Once they arrived, the cat-sidhe claimed a need to deal with important business elsewhere and promised to return in a few hours. Len hadn’t bothered to check behind the second interior door in their borrowed cottage earlier—but as it turned out, it opened into another, larger bedroom containing two beds. While not exactly spacious, there was at least enough room for the six of them to squeeze in without being on top of each other.
Guthrie and Albigard placed Zorah and Rans on the beds. Len and Vonnie settled into a couple of chairs they’d borrowed from the front room, crammed into the space between the wall and the footboards. Guthrie settled on the edge of his granddaughter’s mattress, while Albigard perched next to his on-again, off-again frenemy.
And they waited.
“So,” Vonnie asked, to fill the silence. “That was
necromancy, huh? Guess we should count ourselves lucky you never whipped out the blue lightning bolts when we were sneaking tapas from your kitchen at the Brown Fox.”
“It wasn’t an issue back then,” Len muttered. “And anyway, I can’t really control it.”
“Oh, honey. I feel that pain on a cellular level,” Vonnie said. “I could tell you stories...”
“Get her to tell you about the apartment fire sometime,” Guthrie offered from the bed.
Vonnie glared at him. “Not that story.” She returned her attention to Len. “Seriously, though. It gets better. You can learn to how use it properly, with practice.”
Len wasn’t at all sure he wanted more practice with necromancy. Not when it meant being exposed to a constant parade of death.
“I guess so,” he said, and changed the subject. “Look... I don’t know if I really want to hear the answer to this, but... did the Hunt do any more damage on Earth while we were chasing our tails here in Dhuinne? It took us a few days to get the thing contained, and I just kept thinking about how much destruction it might have caused in that amount of time.”
Vonnie’s expression grew serious. “It’s... not great news. But it could have been a lot worse. We’ve only got what information we could find on the international news sites from Ireland, but as far as the reporting goes, it destroyed an irregular area of about twenty square miles west of Chicago.”
Len’s breathing stuttered.
Vonnie hurried on. “Seriously, though—it wasn’t as bad as you might expect from that. Most of the area had already been evacuated when it broke through the veil, and around the edges where it hadn’t been evacuated yet, they still had a bit of warning. A lot of people got out okay.”
He fought lightheadedness. “How many didn’t?”
Vonnie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “About eight hundred and fifty, at last count. But... Len. It could have headed east and ended up in the city itself. There could have been thousands dead. Tens of thousands.”
There could have been, yes. But eight hundred and fifty people...
Forsaken Fae: The Complete Series, Books 1-3 (Last Vampire World) Page 50