by ST Branton
Frank waved the possibility away. “It’ll be fine,” he said. “We’re as tough as nails. We can do this.”
“I’ve heard that one before,” Deacon remarked grimly. “What could go wrong?”
Frank stuck the last bite of food from his plate into his mouth, chewed quickly, and swallowed. “Here’s what I’m not a hundred percent sold on,” he said. “How do we know we can really trust this guy—the smoking jackass, or whatever you call him? Does anybody have any dirt we can use?”
All eyes turned to Deacon. He took a swig of his water. “Look, I don’t know much,” he said cautiously. “Definitely not much more than Steph. The guy’s a damn ghost. He showed up one day early on, dropped some intel, and disappeared. A short while after, he showed up again, dropped some more, and disappeared. It’s like he leaves trails of breadcrumbs for us to follow but only he really knows where they lead. No one in the Bureau that I could talk to knew a single thing about where he came from. That’s all we have.”
Frank scoffed. “It sounds shady to me,” he grumbled.
I stretched and leaned back in my chair. The patrons at the table behind us huddled close together and whispered among themselves. A few phrases caught my nectar-heightened ears.
“I think that guy is one of them. Look at his skin.”
“Did you see his eyes? Why are his clothes all torn up like that?”
“Why don’t her clothes fit? Those freaks must be hiding something.”
The blood boiled hot into my face and tinged my vision red. I clenched my fists, about to teach those nosy pricks exactly how to mind their own business. As I moved to push my chair out, Marcus spoke.
Do not act on rash emotions, Victoria. I understand that their words are ignorant and hurtful, but it is only natural for humans to despise a being like Frank—and Maya, if they truly knew her nature. This is the way of things. Indeed, these instincts have kept many a human alive in dire times.
I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood and willed my head to cool. The desire to knock someone’s block off still burned within me, but I tried to be sensible instead. Starting a fight would hardly make things easier for us now. The very last thing we needed was unwanted attention.
“Okay, guys,” I announced and shoved my chair back. “It’s time for us to get back on the road.”
Deacon glanced at me but didn’t question my decision. We left money for our bill on the counter and I led our crew the hell out of there. Back in the truck cab, I hazarded a glance through the front window of the diner. The patrons in the booth behind us stared at me with raw animosity in their eyes.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. I jammed the key into the ignition, started the engine, and accelerated out of that place as fast as I could.
Chapter Five
The remainder of the journey to the capital was quiet and far more tense than before. I shoved our experience at the diner to the back of my mind. Common sense told me I needed to focus on what lay ahead and what we might find as we reached the outskirts of DC. We had barely entered the official city limits when my view of the deserted road changed dramatically. I put my foot on the brake.
“Damn it,” I murmured. “What the hell is going on here?”
There was no mistaking the distinctive dark green color and boxy outline of the military trucks.
Frank’s fingers drummed restlessly on his knees. “Lock the doors,” he said. “I don’t know what they want, but they won’t get it without a fight.”
I sighed. “No, no, hold on. The smoking dude brought the army to Lincoln Tunnel, remember? They could be on our side. The blockade simply gave me a minor heart attack. That’s all.” I eased our vehicle to the front of the barricade and slowed to a stop. The vampire balled his hands into fists to keep his fingers still.
A soldier approached the door, decked out in full combat gear. He peered at me from under his helmet. “Vic Stratton?” he asked after an extended period of scrutiny.
“Yeah.” My voice and demeanor remained cool. I had no idea how the strange man knew how to expect us, but decided to work with what I had until I knew more.
The soldier nodded. “We’ve been instructed to escort you down to the Memorial. Pull through here and follow us, please.” He signaled for his compatriots to move the center of the barricade aside, which revealed an envoy of waiting transports. They flanked us as we proceeded through.
“See?” I told Frank. “Nothing to worry about.”
“Right,” he answered. “I’ll believe it when I lay eyes on this weirdo for myself.”
The escort blocked out the view from either side, but we were still treated to a dismal, head-on view of a broken city. Much as we had seen in New York, heaps of rubble and debris lined the streets and blocked some of them off entirely. Several small fires burned along the roadside, which was also crowded with the usual mess of abandoned cars. Many of the buildings we passed had obviously been abandoned, looted, and vandalized, or some combination of the three. By now, I was numbed to that kind of scene. The whole damn country looked this way.
The National Mall sprawled before us and I sucked in a sharp breath. The Capitol Building towered high above our solemn parade, its dome shattered into jagged pieces. The walkways leading to the building were broken and treacherous as if an earthquake had ripped through. Barely over a mile down the Mall, the Washington Monument leaned dismally. It had been broken and now stabbed into the grass at its base. Huge cracks riddled the stonework and radiated through the ground at the site of impact.
“What a fucking mess,” I said quietly. “I wonder which royal jackass is responsible for that.” Frank didn’t have an answer.
Beyond the Monument, the west end of the Mall appeared incongruously normal. The Lincoln Memorial stood at the edge of the reflecting pool, regal as ever. I could barely see the looming silhouette of Honest Abe as we approached, but something wasn’t quite right.
Soon, however, my attention shifted to the forces strung thickly around the edge of the Memorial grounds and all the way up the stairs. They watched us disembark from our trucks, saluted our escort, and waved us through.
“This way,” said the soldier who’d greeted us at the blockade. I expected him to lead us up the steps, but instead, he moved around the side toward an inconspicuous door tucked into the base of the Memorial. I hesitated and glanced up the marble stairs. Lincoln had been beheaded and his statue ended in nothing more than a rough marble stump.
“Keep moving, please,” the soldier called back. I jogged to catch up. The image of headless Lincoln lingered in my mind’s eye. Talk about an ill omen.
Behind the plain door, we were met by yet another guard, who took one look at us and held his hand up. “Hold it,” he said brusquely and stared at Frank. “He can’t come any farther.”
I bristled. “Why not?” The edge in my voice couldn’t be concealed. I might have expected this kind of ignorance from laypeople, maybe, not someone with the smoking man’s obvious authority.
The guard frowned at me. He was blunt in his reply. “Because he’s a vamp. There’s a strict no-monster policy here.” He paused to let the words sink in and then repeated himself. “He can’t come any farther. He’ll have to stay outside.”
“Are you kidding me?” I asked and gritted my teeth. “This is fucked.” For the second time that day, blood rushed to my head.
Maya placed her hand on my shoulder. “Vic,” she said soothingly. “It’s fine. Frank and I can wait outside. Right, Frank?”
The vampire’s gaze bounced quickly between me, Maya, and the guard. “Uh, sure,” he said and shuffled backward. “Go on without us, boss. We’ll wait here.”
The guard glanced curiously at Maya. “Only him, honey,” he told her. “You can come on in.”
She smiled sweetly. “No, I can’t. I’m afraid it would be against your policy.” His eyes widened and he studied her with futile interest. She held the smile on her face. “Let’s say that Frank, here, is a daydream. I’m your
worst nightmare.”
The guard swallowed. He beckoned the rest of us onward as Maya and Frank retreated into the daylight. I brushed past him harder than necessary.
Although Maya is but little, she is fierce, Marcus commented.
“She’s not always that little, either,” I said.
We passed into the halls of a tiny museum dedicated to the sixteenth president, which featured a wall of plaques and an austere portrait of his face on one wall. The space had otherwise been converted into an open office. Everything was polished to an absurd shine. Pieces of furniture softened the place, including a large, dark wood desk situated in front of a wall of matching bookshelves. The smoking man stood between desk and shelves and white plumes billowed from his lips. He looked immaculate.
When he saw us, he smiled. “Welcome, Vic. Please, do your best to make yourselves at home. I am pleased to see you’ve taken my advice to heart and collected a fine company of warriors.”
“It’d be even finer if you hadn’t forced me to leave my best one at the door,” I said. Frustration bubbled immediately below the surface. Maya had spent months at my side. I resented that she wasn’t allowed to be there now.
“A shame,” he agreed. “But it can’t be helped. Your friends have proven their worth, but their nature leaves something to be desired. Trusting the Forgotten is all but impossible.”
I scowled. “That’s a pretty messed up thing to say. You don’t make much of a case for yourself here.” Everyone wanted to walk on thin ice today. I resisted the mighty urge to crack my knuckles.
Deacon cleared his throat. “You asked for us, sir,” he said. “We’re here. Tell us what’s going on.”
The smoking man took a long drag on his cigarette. His gaze roamed each of our faces. “Delano’s location has been pinpointed,” he began. “He’s in the Midwest—essentially, the middle of nowhere. Nothing but flat, out-of-season cornfields as far as the eye can see.” He puffed again. “A perfect place to raise a massive army and especially if the lesser gods—of which the number is increasing—continue to bow at his feet. I suspect that soon, he will have found a way to force the stronger ones into line as well. Our task is to stop him before that happens.”
My ears perked up, albeit grudgingly. “Or else what?”
He turned his calm, impassive eyes to me. “Or else the human world ends,” he said simply. “Delano is the biggest threat we know, bar none. Up until now, uncontrolled chaos between the gods has allowed some space for those humans who have survived to run, to hide, and to fight. If Delano is able to bring about some semblance of unity, even if he must do so by force, there will be nowhere for mankind to go. The truth is as stark and cruel as that.”
“Awesome,” I said flatly. “What’s the bad news?”
The smoking man smiled. “Provided that we are able to defeat Delano, the other gods will then fear us in his stead. They will flee or be banished. We can take this nation back, and from here, the rest of the Earth.” He flicked the ash carelessly from his cigarette. “As far as strategy is concerned, I have contacts within the uncompromised sectors of the United States Military resistance. They are standing by to coordinate a strike with you and your team, should you choose to do so.”
For a moment, we simply stared at one another. “We have to confer,” I said finally.
“Of course.” The man turned his back. “I need not remind you that time is a luxury.”
Deacon, Steph, and I snapped into a quick huddle. I looked at them and wished the other two-fifths of my team had been permitted to join us. “It’s a huge risk,” I said. “We don’t have any idea how strong Delano is now, and I’m a hundred percent positive that he will expect an attack. There’s no way we’d be able to catch him by surprise.”
“Also, I’m kind of with Frank on this guy,” Steph said, her voice low. “He made us leave our brawlers at the door because he says we can’t trust them? I don’t think so. He’s the one we shouldn’t trust. We don’t know anything about him.”
“He hasn’t steered us wrong yet, Steph,” Deacon said. “It’s not like we have a folder full of fallback plans. This is now down to the wire. There’s no room to second-guess anything here.”
“The whole world is at stake,” she fired back. “Not only the free one. Everything. Second-guessing seems like the smartest thing we can do.” She turned to me. “I don’t like it, Vic.”
“And I don’t think it matters whether we like it or not,” Deacon said. “It’s this or nothing.”
It is a quandary, Marcus interjected. But I can vouch for urgency in this decision. Delano is ruthless and his power only increases. If he is not unseated, all will be as the gentleman has said. I believe the best course of action is to strike for the kill.
His voice was cut off when a soldier burst in through the entrance to the museum. “Sir!” he cried, out of breath. “We’re under attack!”
Chapter Six
Our huddle broke immediately and we barreled past the guards outside to rejoin Maya and Frank. The forces on the perimeter were already engaged with a significant number of short, brutish golems.
They weren’t fast, nor were they even very big, but they could pack a crazy wallop. A soldier was thrown back onto the steps from a single punch and grimaced in pain. The mirror-like surface of the reflecting pool churned, and more golems rose dripping from the water.
“Damn it to hell!” I cursed. My blade blazed into my hands and I raised it to meet the advancing ranks.
The golems proved to be relatively easy to hack apart, although they were sturdy and often continued to move as long as their legs remained intact. Without heads, they swung blindly as if in an attempt to land a crippling blow. I danced nimbly in and out of range, sliced them down, and launched heavy chunks of their crude limbs at those who still attacked. They staggered beneath the weight of their fallen comrades.
Frank wrenched a head off and heaved it into the water. Despite the weight he’d lost, he was still built like a brick shithouse, and he weathered punches and kicks like taps on the shoulder. Each time a golem was stalled by the impact of a bullet from Steph or one of the soldiers, the vampire seized it and tore into its dense, muddy flesh until it collapsed. Bodies sank into the depths of the pool they’d come from—those that stayed intact, anyway. Maya’s tactic was to crush them into dust against the ground. I hoped the museum guard had a front row seat to all her werewolf glory.
Choppy waves lapped at the edge of the stone we stood on. I kicked another golem into the pool. A strange, deep rumble started low in my ears. The waves in the pool grew larger, and the earth quaked enough to catch me off guard.
“Back up!” I yelled and leapt toward the stairs. The center of the shallow pool bulged upward and exploded into a shower of water and huge chunks of rock and dirt.
I ducked and cursed as a piece of concrete landed inches to my left. When I looked up again, all the water at our side of the pool had gone and left a shallow basin with a gaping hole in the center. A craggy, two-legged behemoth straddled the hole, its entire body crusted with grimy rock. It hunched over, flexed two powerful arms, and emitted a roar.
“What the fuck is that?” someone shouted.
I rolled my eyes. Questions were for amateurs. I’d become a pro long before. “Any ideas on this chump?” I asked Marcus as I brandished the Gladius Solis.
An Apprenti, for certain, Marcus said. A true god would have stronger minions. I cannot say I know this one in particular, although I would venture to guess that his strength is his most fearsome characteristic.
“Somehow, I’m not worried that it will think me to death,” I said. The behemoth’s eyes tracked instantly to the sword’s fiery glow. It smiled and exposed a mouthful of sharp black teeth.
“God-killer!” it thundered. Its deep voice resonated across the Mall. “We meet at last. Your puny weapon stands no chance against the likes of me. Prepare to be slain.”
“Wow,” I said. “Those were more words than I assumed you
knew. And here I thought you wouldn’t impress me at all.”
The ugly son of a bitch laughed. “Mockery is the bastion of the weak,” he proclaimed and stepped out of the empty pool. The bare stone cracked beneath his feet. “It is useless within the arena of war. Either fight or die.” He swept one club-like arm out and the gesture caused the soldiers around me to scatter. More little golems now surged up from the hole the behemoth had made with his grand entrance.
I nodded toward them. “Take care of the small fry. I’ll handle Ben Grimm over here.” The stone hulk very obviously readied himself to deliver a serious punch, but I dashed in under his arm and drove the point of my sword toward his chest with all my might.
Sparks flew on impact, but the hard plating still melted under the intense heat of the blade. I felt his thick, clumsy hands try to grip me and lift me off my feet. If he managed to get ahold of me, I might be in trouble.
I spun away and slashed at his fingers. One blocky thumb tumbled to the ground near my feet. A burning orange gash materialized across his rough palm. The Apprenti jerked his hand back and growled in pain. He lunged forward suddenly, his good hand open for a powerful blow. The rush of wind fluttered my hair as I dodged out of the way in the nick of time.
“Float like a butterfly,” I said and hefted my sword into position. “Sting like a fucking bee.”
Once more, I leapt into range. He threw himself forward and rained sediment down on me. His fists slammed at the place where I’d stood scant seconds before but I was too damn fast. I used his bent leg as a launching point, jumped as high as I could, and anchored the sword deep in the Apprenti’s bulky shoulder. His skin began to melt into a sludgy, muddy substance.
Gravity did the rest of the work. The Gladius Solis slid downward through the behemoth’s torso and sliced into his chest and ribs. Pieces crumbled off his body, and when my feet touched the ground, his entire right side peeled away. He teetered on one foot, only to be pelted in the face by his own minion. I looked over my shoulder and Maya grinned as she stretched her throwing arm.