Horseman

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Horseman Page 21

by Shayne Silvers


  She blinked a few times, but then slowly lifted one of her sewing needles to point to…

  Blonde-Angst.

  The overlord-lookalike scowled back, face a thunderhead. “What madness is she spouting now? How the younger generation has no idea how to be true vampires? That’s her usual shtick,” he muttered, shooting his threatening glare around the room at his fellow vampires. They murmured their agreement, flinching under his glare whenever it landed on them.

  But Alucard was already circling the table, staring down at the deck of cards in his hand as he read them and then discarded them onto the table or floor with a casual flick of his fingers. He paused, did a little two-step, and continued on, humming to himself as he continued dropping cards, completely unaware of the growing argument among his dinner guests.

  I blinked. Was he… yes, he was definitely dancing as he walked. I almost burst out laughing, but the level of anxiety was rapidly growing as everyone wondered exactly what was happening, murmuring to each other.

  Blonde-Angst wasn’t bothering to be discreet anymore, but loudly muttering to his pals about the charade. “What is the meaning of this?” he finally demanded, glaring first at Alucard and then the older lady, who was smiling approvingly at Alucard’s rear as he danced, paused, spun, did another quick two-step, and then continued on, shaking his hips absently, as if he’d forgotten anyone was in the room and he was just jamming to some soul music.

  “I lived in N’awlins,” he finally murmured as if talking to himself, still dropping cards one by one. “Had shitty parents, and an even shittier sister. Woe is me.”

  I grimaced at that casual comment. I’d had the misfortune of meeting his sister once. Even helped Alucard kill her. As I looked about the room, I realized that no small number of the vampires had also recognized the reference, possibly having known Neveah on a personal level, and were now likely wondering if they’d just realized how fatal that relation might end up being.

  But Alucard continued, still flicking cards to the floor after a quick glance. “There’s a reason that matriarchal societies function so well, historically speaking. Must show the women respect,” he said solemnly. He paused, flipped a card over, and then flung it to the ground. “Because if Mama ain’t happy,” he smiled, shooting a glance at the older lady, “ain’t nobody happy.”

  “Tell it to ‘em, Morningstar,” she chuckled under her breath, shaking her head jovially.

  I briefly wondered if I had maybe encouraged Alucard a little too well in embracing his inner monster, his darker side, because this was just cruel. I knew vampires loved their games, but even I was getting fidgety, and the Reds were breathing faster – a fact that several of the vampires were also noticing, although trying to be discreet about their hungry looks. I was just glad no one had jumped to their feet screaming dragon!

  “I picked up a thing or two – Tarot, Voodoo, and whatnot…” Alucard said, still checking and then flicking cards to the floor, the table, the fireplace. Then he paused upon seeing the next card, a smile stretching across his face. “Ah, finally! Here it is.”

  “Here what is?” Blonde-Angst snapped. “Just kill the lying bitch already!”

  Alucard looked up, cocking his head as he assessed the room. “I want you to look at this very closely…” he said, holding up the card for all to see. It was the Nineteenth Major Arcana – the Sun Card, and it showed a child riding a white horse with a sun dominating the sky.

  The vampires cringed in unison, obviously not devout fans of the sun.

  But as everyone stared at the card, I realized Alucard was no longer sharing his glance with every vampire in the room, only Blonde-Angst. He took two, carefully measured steps to the right, as if lining up something. “Oh, my apologies,” Alucard told him, noticing the frown of confusion on Blonde Angst’s face. “You probably can’t see it very well from over there. Here, catch.” And Alucard flung it with two fingers.

  The card burst into flame halfway across the table and then sliced straight through Blonde-Angst’s neck, leaving only a faint black line before it struck another priceless painting hanging on the wall behind him.

  “Ta-da!” Alucard chimed, and then took a bow. The flaming card managed to burn a small hole in the painting before extinguishing itself.

  When no one laughed, Alucard frowned. “Oh, don’t worry! We can get a new painting,” he said dismissively. The room was eerily silent as we all stared at Blonde-Angst, who was staring back at Alucard with wide eyes. Then, with a sickening squelch, his body fell forward and his head tumbled into the center of the table. The wound was cauterized, leaving no gore to clean up. The young vampire who had hitched himself to Blonde-Angst earlier looked about ready to soil himself.

  Alucard was shaking out his hand, extinguishing the fire dancing over his fingertips. He finally looked back up at the room of frozen vampires. “Anyone else want to get a closer look at the card? I’ll have to tug it out of the painting. That might give you a few seconds head start to run screaming from the building. Run screaming from St. Louis…”

  Everyone shook their heads stiffly.

  “Really? No one?” he asked, smiling beside the beautiful pretend-heiress. “Last chance… Imagine how funny it would look to see a kiss of vampires running from the building and bursting into flame as soon as they opened the front door…” He leaned over, pinching her cheek playfully, “Because it’s a grand, sunny day, mon cher,” he told her, chuckling at her full-body clench.

  As Alucard continued on past her, she deflated like a wet rag, shivering, and pointedly ignoring Blonde-Angst’s motionless body. Either they’d been an item, or she had just witnessed some plot of hers die a sudden, violent death. Alucard’s flashy card trick and pinching her cheek had just told her that she was on thin ice, and that her usual tricks would obviously not work on him.

  The Daywalker cleared his throat. “I’m the new Master Vampire of St. Louis. Discuss.” He folded his arms like a bored college professor that was too hungover to teach his students on Monday morning.

  His new students didn’t discuss anything. Didn’t even make eye contact with one another.

  Just like college students, I thought to myself absently.

  Chapter 36

  Alucard grunted when it was apparent the discussion was dead in the water. “Okay. Discussion over. Now, this sweet little thing,” Alucard finally said, pointing at the knitting lady, “is my foxy proxy for when I’m doing…” he gestured pompously, “other things. Like sun tanning.” The old woman beamed happily. She had this cute twinkle of carnage in her eyes that let me imagine her baking cookies during the End Days.

  One vampire, the sophisticated guy in a suit, cleared his throat gently, keeping his eyes lowered. “With all due respect, does the Sanguine Council know of this? I know we recently approached you about becoming Master of St. Louis, but in your delay and then absence…” his eyes briefly touched upon the Blonde-Angst’s dead body decorating the table, “opposing factions began to speak up.” He finally met Alucard’s eyes very briefly and gave him a respectful nod. “I, for one, would prefer your ruthless stability, but it’s a fair point…”

  Alucard drummed his fingers, slowly leaning over the table to peer down at the outspoken vampire, looking like nothing but a pitbull debating whether or not to rip an intruder’s throat out. A subtle message that Alucard wasn’t so easily won over by a compliment. The vampire lowered his eyes again, and although obviously terrified, he hid it well. “The old wine-sacks in Italy gave me a choice. St. Louis or New York.”

  The man glanced up sharply. “New York? Why?”

  Alucard smiled distantly, pausing to shoot me a brief glance, letting me know this answer was also for me. Finally, I would hear an answer on exactly what the hell had went down during his fang-cation.

  “Remember Roland Haviar, the Vatican Shepherd from Kansas City? The legendary vampire hunter that voluntarily chose to become a vampire? I invited him to our last party together.” The vampires were eerily s
ilent, probably wondering if it was a rhetorical question. “You remember, the one who still has access to his wizard’s power.” It was obvious from the very first mention of the name, that they remembered exactly who Roland was. Alucard was just being overly dramatic to incite fear. A great tactic at times. Alucard slapped the table loudly, his hand bursting to flames and scorching the wood. “Well?” he demanded.

  They couldn’t nod fast enough.

  “Thank you. Roland and I had a road-trip on our way back from our meeting with the Sanguine Council. Might have caused a vacancy for the Master of New York position, but in my defense, I’d had a few too many drinks that night.”

  Judging by the sudden flinches, that statement struck a chord in them. They either knew who – and how dangerous – Roland was, and that he was Alucard’s friend. Or, they knew exactly how powerful the Master of New York had been, and that Alucard had gotten a little tipsy and killed him. Whoopsies. Party foul.

  Just one of these comments would have been enough to solidify his rule. But combined? Especially after his card trick moments ago? He had them in the palm of his hand.

  Another sneaky aspect of Alucard’s statement was that, out of the two options, Alucard had chosen St. Louis over New York. The honey to the great swinging club of a stick he had used on the two vampires now lying on the table. He had just told them he thought them more important than New York.

  “Did… Roland take New York, then?” the pretty raven-haired vampire asked, likely considering applying her wares on the East Coast.

  Alucard frowned at her. “Nah, he likes the Midwest. I think he’s hanging around Kansas City for a while. He’s friends with Callie Penrose. You’ve heard of her, right?”

  Stiff, jerking nods circled the table like the wave at a sporting event. They didn’t like thinking about Miss Callie Penrose. Not one bit. But they also feared her. I wondered what rumors were being whispered on the streets about her to make them react so strongly.

  “Well, Roland – that big, bad sonofabitch – considers Callie to be his adopted daughter. Taught her everything she knows. And she’s regularly in the company of…” he held out a hand, pointing directly at me, “this motherfucker.”

  Everyone slowly turned to face me, concealing their true feelings. But each look also held a whisper of fear, no matter how hard they tried to hide it.

  “Nate Temple. The King of St. Louis.” When no one moved, Alucard continued in a very soft, chilling tone. “You should probably bow down to him or something.”

  The vampire closest to me – a portly, unassuming accountant type – was suddenly lunging at me, claws extended to rip through my chest. I hadn’t even really noticed the guy, he had been so bland and silent during the show.

  Talon yawned loudly, even covering his mouth with a paw.

  I held my ground, locking eyes with my attacker, and smiled. I felt a rush of wind at my side and watched as a glass man suddenly materialized between us, having been invisibly stalking the room up until now.

  He’d brushed my sleeve a few times in passing to let me know his position, and so I wouldn’t accidentally back into him and seemingly trip over nothing in front of a bunch of predators biologically wired to attack at any sign of weakness.

  Yahn had foregone his dragon form for this, apparently. His fist slammed into the vampire’s cheekbone, shattering one of his fangs and stopping him cold. His cheek actually fractured like a cracked vase – even sounded like it, too. Crunch!

  The vampire dropped to the ground in a limp pile, unmoving. Alucard grunted absently, not looking remotely surprised. I toed the two-inch-long tooth lying on the rug beside his face. He didn’t move, even when I nudged his nose with my boot. I turned to Yahn with an arched eyebrow.

  “Jesus, man. How hard did you hit him?”

  Yahn frowned back at me. “What do you mean?” He glanced down at the pile of vampire. “I hit him as hard as I fucking could, of course. Did you expect me to slap him or something?”

  I sighed. “No, it’s just… I don’t know if I’ve ever really seen someone take a punch like that. Not from this close, anyway.” I shrugged, crouching down to scoop up the tooth and tuck it into my pocket. I looked back up to find the vampires all staring from Yahn to me. “Oh, sorry. Go ahead,” I told them.

  Yahn cleared his throat and clothing suddenly exploded behind me as the Reds burst into their dragon forms, shredded fabric raining down over me. I casually brushed off a shoulder, then the other as spitting snarls flanked me, challenging the vampires. “The dragons serve King Temple,” Yahn said in a cold, imperious tone.

  Talon’s harsh features, only emphasized by the bloody lines he had painted down his face, swept the room, his ears swiveling back and forth.

  The vampires gripped their armrests or the table in front of them with sudden black claws, looking on the verge of panic, not having sensed the Reds up until this moment. I’d have to ask how they had pulled that off. Vampires had impeccable senses and should have noticed three shifters in their midst.

  Before anyone else could do anything stupid, Alucard clapped his hands twice to halt the hysteria. “You should probably know that I consider King Temple my brother from another mother, so I guess that makes me a prince.” He leaned over the table, his fingers suddenly flaming claws again, scorching the wood and cracking the lacquer finish. “And I definitely expect you to bow to me.”

  I cleared my throat politely, looking at him. “Dude…” I said.

  He met my eyes and then chuckled. “After you bow down to the King, of course,” he amended, dipping his own chin as an example.

  And they did. Bowing down to me, and then Alucard. They even looked genuine about it.

  I nodded back to them and waved for Alucard to resume dictating his commands to his new Kiss of Vampires.

  “Now,” Alucard began, kicking his boots back up onto the table. “We have a super-twat named Mordred in town, causing a bother. He thinks he’s hot shit. Nate and I disagree. Specifics might change, but generally, we plan on hurting his feelings. This is what you are going to do…”

  Inwardly, I was grinning. So far, I had the dragons, the wolves, and the vampires behind me. Possibly the Chancery. Well, I didn’t think they’d be staunchly against me, which was good enough to smile about.

  But how many did Mordred have in his pocket? Or was I simply playing into his game?

  “It was a pleasure meeting you. Maybe I’ll invite you over for dinner one of these days,” I said, smiling politely. Then I ripped a Gateway in the air, motioning for my crew to join me back at Chateau Falco.

  Grimm, the sick bastard, was chewing on a wad of rainbow about two feet away from the open Gateway, rainbow blood all over his fangs. He took two steps and stuck his head through the opening and into the room of vampires, fiery eyes narrowing as he continued loud, wet chews, rainbow gore dripping onto the floorboards. Then he neighed at them, and his nostrils flared with that deep, inner fire.

  I patted him on the neck and stepped through the Gateway. “Easy, Grimm. They’re friends.”

  Grimm snorted indelicately before spitting out a wad of rainbow guts into the room. Incidentally, it hit the face of the vampire head sitting atop the body in the center of the table, knocking it over and sending it rolling down the length of the table, smearing rainbow blood in a long, pretty streak.

  Alucard stopped it with a hand, grinning as he leaned close to inspect the blood. “How big was it on the Fuck-Roy scale?” he asked, glancing up at Grimm.

  “Oh, hey, Alucard.” Grimm said, dipping his head slightly. “Congrats on the king thing. And it was a twelve,” he added smugly, licking his rainbow painted lips with a long black tongue.

  Alucard grunted. “Wow. New record. Great job.”

  Grimm slowly backed away. After my crew had all followed me through, I let the Gateway wink shut.

  Grimm immediately burst out laughing. “I thought you’d never open up the Gateway,” he snorted.

  The Reds shifted back to t
heir human form, naked as the day is long. Yahn held up a dull, ivory stone, about the size of a large, flattened prune. “I’m just glad this thing worked like Raego said it would. Too bad there aren’t more of them.”

  I studied it thoughtfully. “It hides your nature? That you’re shifter dragons?”

  Yahn nodded. “Only at a short distance, though, which is why Alucard got them all in that room and closed the doors. I think it masks all shifters in the vicinity, not just the one holding it.” He kissed the stone loudly, and I noticed Talon studying him.

  I shook my head, impressed. Everyone began to laugh in triumph, even Talon, momentarily forgetting all about Mordred and the shit headed our way.

  Laughter was important.

  Chapter 37

  Yahn and the Reds soon peeled off to go do whatever naked dragons did for fun these days, and Grimm was tearing into a hunk of rainbow that resembled a meaty, colorful carcass, using his horn to slash through it before gobbling down another dripping slab.

  I made my way over to the sparring area where Alex was now pitted against a trio of Achilles’ battle-tested Myrmidons. Talon, as usual, followed at a discreet distance, my Shadow, my protector.

  I spotted Ganesh, the elephant-headed Indian god – the remover of obstacles – speaking with Asterion the Minotaur, both seated cross-legged beneath a tree, watching the fight.

  But it was the third figure beside them that made me suspicious. King Midas watched Alex entirely too intently. And he had a habit for turning things into gold or finding unique investment opportunities.

  I watched Alex flip one of the Myrmidons over his hip, slamming him to the ground and drawing a finger across his throat to symbolize a dagger kill. The two remaining Myrmidons rushed him, and Alex bolted away towards a stump, just out of reach of their hands. He stumbled as his boot touched the stump, and the Myrmidons lunged for him.

  But Alex was just as suddenly hanging in the air, upside-down between them, having used the stump as a launchpad for a backflip, his stumble a feigned deceit. He flung out his hands to hammer-fist the backs of their heads, knocking them off balance to headbutt the tree in a double-knockout. Alex did fumble the landing, but turned it into a backwards roll, breathing fast as he climbed to his feet with an impish grin.

 

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