“Ah, yes,” Brett continued. “This is Kat Drummond. She’s my girlfriend, and despite what she says, the Last Light of Hope City.”
My hearing zoned out as I heard girlfriend, even as possibly the most famous monster hunter of the southern hemisphere punched my old friend in the shoulder.
***KAT***
History always finds a way of rearing its ugly head. What you think is done is never truly done. And, while you may want to forget the past, looking ever onward, you will often be forced to look back.
I couldn’t stop staring at the numbers on Krieg’s arm, and the garish tattoo beneath it. It made me thankful that Brett had never gotten anything so obvious. The numbers were enough. Perhaps, too much.
Brett took Krieg aside to introduce to Guy, as Cindy oversaw the Crusaders clearing out the vamp corpses.
I didn’t like this sort of work. Vampires spoke. They had rights, according to the Spirit of the Law, at least. But these vamps were criminals. True monsters. I wouldn’t lose too much sleep over slaying a monster who sold kid’s blood.
But still…it wasn’t what I wanted to be doing on a Wednesday…Thursday…night.
We’d been tracking leads every day. The Izingane Zegazi were coming. That much was certain. They’d told us so, with their dying breaths after the Battle of the Betrayers. That’s what the Council-sponsored media was calling the final confrontation between the Crusaders and the Necro Lord that had torn apart the city. They were still bitter about the cops, Whiteshield and soldiers who had mutinied to do the right thing. Didn’t matter a stitch to the Chairman that we’d saved the city.
But that was ancient history. Well, week-ago history.
It was still so fresh. All of it. And most of all, the man who had killed my parents had been in my apartment. He’d strangled Treth. And then disappeared into nothingness.
Between investigating how by the Rifts he’d done that, preparing for the oncoming Izingane Zegazi attack and trying to keep monsters from devouring the city, the Crusaders had been stretched really thin.
I hadn’t worked so hard in years! Gone were the privileges of being the boss. I was working almost every waking moment, reserving four to six hours for sleep. We’d lost a lot of good men at the Battle. Even with the newbies, we were all pulling triple shifts to patrol this blasted city.
And all our off time was reserved for preparing for the inevitable attack.
The Izingane Zegazi. Children of Blood. The feudal vampire clans of the Zulu Empire. Officially, they were vassals of the Zulu Emperor. But, in reality, they only answered to themselves, forming a vast network of monstrous vampiric sires and fledglings that could communicate through some rudimentary hive mind. It was terrifying!
All we really knew was that they wanted Guy, Brett’s best friend and likely one of mine now, dead. As well as me, I guess.
But the thing is: I’m really bad at dying too.
Treth, the ghost inside my head, manifested in front of me, inclining his head towards the Corpsman named Krieg. Of the people here, only Cindy and I could see him.
Krieg looked a lot like Brett, just with blonde hair and a thick, lemony stubble. Actually, they didn’t look alike at all if I described it like that. Besides their muscly, combat-hewn physiques, they were very different. All except the look in their eyes. The way they moved. The way they spoke to each other now.
Treth sensed my trepidation. Couldn’t hide much from him.
I was glad to see Brett happy. Honest! I hadn’t seen him this genuinely pleased in a long time. He’d thought his comrade dead. And now, to be able to introduce his new best friend to what seemed his old best friend…it was everything to him.
But…the Corps wasn’t good for him. It was his family, sure. But it was also a cult and genocidal death squad.
Brett had been different this past week, since we started preparing for the Izingane Zegazi attack in earnest. He was always different when vampires were involved. It changed him.
Vampires had killed his family, that much I knew. And afterwards, he had been raised in a paramilitary group as a child soldier, dedicated to exterminating them and other non-humans.
Vampires brought out the worst in Brett. They stopped him from thinking things through. And they turned him into a cold, killing machine.
I loved him. Dearly. And I didn’t want to see these monsters make him into something else. Something consumed purely by hate. I’d seen what it had done to Finley, his mentor. I didn’t want it to happen to him.
But, with these vampires coming at us, we didn’t have much time to see a therapist.
Seeing that everything was being taken care of without me, I left this confined slum room and its sickly stench of burning flesh. My flaming coat enjoyed the scent, but my tastes were much more refined. Or less, depending on who you asked.
I exited the room and found myself alone in the dimly lit hallways of this quagmire of a slum-sprawl.
Treth leaned against the wall alongside me.
“You’re worried about this Corpsman,” he said.
I nodded. No use lying to Treth.
“You can’t deny the Corps in Brett, Kat. It was his life. Still is, to some degree. It was going to catch up to him eventually. You should be pleased that at least one of the happier things from his past is still alive to bring him joy.”
I considered my ghost’s words. They were surprisingly deep. I chuckled.
“You doing a psychology degree, Mr Avicin? You could use me for your pro bono work. Could make a good therapist. Athena knows I need one!”
He grinned, but I saw a hint of a blush on his pale, translucent cheeks. He was very bashful for a dead man.
But, the surprise at my usually socially inept companion making a good point faded. I sighed.
“I’m worried that he’ll remember. Sure, the good parts, but also the bad parts. That he’ll become someone I don’t know. Someone so consumed by hate that he forgets what we should be fighting for.”
“It took me a long time to warm up to Brett. So, take it from me, his biggest detractor. Brett is a good guy. He will change. We all do. But, he will still be the person you love.”
I couldn’t help but smile. Just a little. Treth had matured so much lately. Probably Gorgo’s influence. Or perhaps not. He’d gone through a lot. That aged someone. And he had died like twice already. That had to bring some sort of wisdom!
But despite his comforting words, I still felt uneasy. Well, what else was new?
I clicked my tongue, irritably.
“At least this raid accomplished something. The lead was a bust. Just more vamp gangers who don’t know a thing.”
“You removed a blight on the world. That’s worth something.”
“I could remove a thousand blights by marching into the necro-states in Central Africa and purging all the undead. We need proper results. I want to get this Izingane Zegazi nonsense out of the way so we can focus on…”
For some reason I couldn’t say it. As if saying it confirmed the reality of the situation. That the man who had done this to me, who had killed my parents, who had corrupted Candace…had been in my home.
I shook my head.
“I had hoped they would attack almost immediately. At least then we’d have had the good will of the city. Now, the longer we wait, the more time the fucking Chairman has to convince everyone we’re some evil monopoly fabricating the crimes in this city.”
I clenched my fists, feeling the cold concrete of the wall on my skin.
Most of all, I wanted this to be over. To eliminate the vamps coming after my friends. To kill the Mentor. And to get back to what I loved – protecting people for a paycheck. It would help if the government stopped trying to get in my way.
I heard Brett and Krieg speaking animatedly as they exited the room.
“Kat,” Brett beamed, an expression that melted away a lot of my anxiety already. “Krieg has been living in the gutter. We’ve got space for him at the HQ, right?”
“Of course.”
No argument there. Housing hunters was basically part of the job.
Krieg saluted. “Thank you, Last…Kat. I would also like to apply to the Crusaders. To serve and purge.”
I nodded, as Brett and Krieg dismissed themselves, renewing their discussion of old, bloody times.
Another Corpsman in the Crusaders? I didn’t know what to think about that. But, I couldn’t really refuse.
Chapter 2. Absolutism
Another night on the hunt meant another night without sleep. We left the stenching carcass of this vampire-infested warren and were promptly greeted by the sun breaking through the slum’s smog covering. The fresh morning chill was almost enough to penetrate through the rubbery fumes of the dark weyline. Almost.
I half held my breath as we entered our vehicles. Masked Crusaders, carrying assault rifles, guarded the parked convoy. Even at this early hour, a crowd had gathered. They didn’t cheer or boo us. But I saw some shake their heads.
The sentiment of the slums was always unusual. We had killed the Necro Lord. Eliminated their overlord and practically freed them from the blight of a necromantic warlord. But, we had also killed many of their brothers, fathers and children while doing so.
Gangsters and necromancers, no matter their actions, were still human. They had families and friends. Even the most evil man leaves a mourner.
I took my place on the passenger seat of Brett’s old van. It had survived the Battle. Apparently, some enterprising Crusaders had hotwired it and used it to mow down swathes of undead. Brett wasn’t even angry. And we’d taken precautions to prevent anyone less desirable from hotwiring the van in the future.
I stared at the rear-view mirror as Krieg took a seat alongside Cindy. I sensed her suspicions. Had known her long enough. But she was good at hiding them. She smiled at the Corpsman and buckled her seatbelt.
“Where’s Guy, Cins?” I asked.
“Chasing another lead,” she answered, impassively. But I saw a slight twitch of her lips. She didn’t like it.
“He’ll be fine!” Brett said, taking his seat and waiting for the lead car in the convoy to get a move on.
“Oh, I’m sure of that,” she replied, but she still frowned.
But he should still take back up, was the unspoken addition. Should still take me.
I didn’t blame Cindy for her fear. Her fiancé was capable. More than capable. But he often tried to carry the world on his shoulders. Perhaps, a bit like me. At least I always had Treth to speak to about it. I’m not sure Guy had an invisible companion to act as his cosmic therapist.
But, if he wanted to pursue this lead alone, we couldn’t stop him.
The lead car started moving and Brett powered up the van to follow. The radio blared to life as the van did, playing an inappropriately upbeat pop song for this time of day. Before we could change the station, the ditty for the news played. Brett reached for the dial, but I held my hand out to stop him.
He didn’t want me to hear this. But I knew I had to. He couldn’t protect me from this.
“In the news today, Chairman Riaan Haggenort has once again presented his proposal to the Lower Council to investigate the Crusader’s Monster Hunting Agency for antitrust violations,” the newscaster recited, monotone and impassive, before the audio changed to a raucous recording of the Lower Council. Shouting and muttering drowned out a lead voice before being silenced. The Chairman spoke.
“The dissolution of Puretide into the Crusaders is tantamount to forming a monopoly. How can we expect to maintain fair competition in the spirit of the Monster Hunting Act if we only have two firms carving the city up between themselves? These hunters exploit the citizenry, demanding pay from desperate victims. The only thing keeping them in check was each other. But now…”
The recording muffled and cut off. Seems the radio presenters got bored.
“Chairman Haggenort,” the news presenter continued, with the excitement of a moist towel. “Has become as divisive a figure as the Last Light herself, whom he has vowed to bring to justice for her participation in what he calls the Battle of the Betrayers. Listeners may recall that Kat Drummond, better known as the Last Light, saved the city from Loviatar and the Fae Flu last year. But, Kat Drummond hasn’t been without detractors, the most famous of all being the Chairman himself. In other news…”
I zoned out as the news shifted to discussing the centaur race results. Nothing about the rebuilding effort.
I looked at the window, watching swathes of broken homes, craters in the roads and bloodstains still not completely scrubbed away. The Necro Lord had cut a bloody path towards us. If only Riaan had not gotten in his way. Perhaps then we could have concentrated the violence to around the HQ. Or not. Perhaps, there was no way of stopping the Necro Lord from hurting so many people.
That’s the problem with caring about people. They can be hurt.
Riaan never plucked up the courage or the decency to speak to me after the battle. Sure, it had only been just over a week. But still. Hadn’t even heard from Agent Phillip Brown of Foreign Affairs. Not that I minded that in the least.
I had expected some sort of call, if nothing else. I’d saved this city more times than I cared to count. I led the only hunter agency still patrolling the streets! Drakenbane was too concerned with big game to worry about small fry beasts. No matter if those beasts were just as capable of slaughtering a family. Someone had to protect the people!
Oh yeah, but that was apparently exploitation. We were evidently meant to lay down our lives for free! As if the cops and army fought without pay.
I felt a hand on my knee. Brett squeezed my leg. I gave him a look and a small smile to let him know I was okay. He was getting too good at recognising when I was in a bad space. Well, since catching the Mentor in my apartment, I’d been in nothing but a bad space.
It really didn’t help that the uneasy alliance I had with the government had turned sour. The cops and soldiers who had joined me to defend the city had been branded traitors and fired. The courts were packed with trials. Fortunately, no hunters. We were within our rights to face down the darkness of the city. It was a different story for public sector employees.
I didn’t know I’d ever be having sympathy for some cops. But, here I was. And I’d made it clear to every one of them that there was always a place among the Crusaders for them. That had then made its way into the papers. Riaan accused me of wanting to build a paramilitary to take over the city. At this point, maybe I was!
His biggest accusation, however, was that Puretide died with Edward Taragon. And, as a result of that, most of his men joined the Crusaders. While Puretide and the Crusaders hadn’t merged, he was trying to accuse us of antitrust violations. Of forming an oligopoly alongside Drakenbane. It’s as if he wanted us to leave brave hunters out on the streets!
The courts had thrown out his accusations, so he’d brought it to the legislature. Jane was keeping me apprised of the situation. Frankly, I didn’t care. I had bigger things to worry about. Things with teeth sharper than Riaan fucking Haggenort.
We turned off the highway and back into the lusher side of Hope City. At least, it was lush before the Necro Lord’s onslaught. In the fires and warfare of the Battle, buildings had been destroyed by towering necro-golems, fires had spread and incinerated parks, and many people had lost their lives and livelihoods.
As we turned down a suburban road, our pace was slowed by crowds leaving their homes at the sight of the convoy. Their shouts were muffled by the windows of the vans, but their expressions said enough.
A boy of no older than twelve threw a brick at the car in front. It bounced off the reinforced and enchanted hull. Good thing for him. I realised I had a lot more patience than many of my colleagues. If that brick had gone through the windshield, I’m not sure that I’d have been able to stop the reprisals.
“We don’t need this,” Brett hissed, through gritted teeth. His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel.
We reall
y didn’t. The only time the Crusaders were left alone was when a scarier monster was around to chase away the protesters.
Jane claimed that the entire city hadn’t turned on us. That “Last Light” still meant something. But public sentiment had definitely turned on us in the places that the Necro Lord had destroyed. Unfortunately, that was a large swathe cutting its way directly around our headquarters.
It didn’t help the PR war at all that Crusaders, traumatised and angered by the Battle, were being verbally and physically hounded by protesters. They were men and women of violence, so they snapped back. Well, I wish. They were not little dogs, yapping at the people throwing shit at them. They were wolves. And they bit. Already, protesters had been put in the hospital. Fortunately, there hadn’t been any arrests. Yet. But I had a bad feeling that it was just a matter of time before someone did something we’d all regret.
We finally turned into Observatory. Buildings lay in ruins, still surrounded by barbed wire and the barricades we’d hastily erected for the battle. We were still rebuilding. But, with all that was going on, our focus was generally elsewhere.
We turned a corner, facing the pile of rubble that was once the Gravekeeper Tavern. I felt a twinge of sadness. I’d spent a lot of time at the Gravekeeper. It had been Conrad Khoi’s office – my introduction to the big leagues. And the Crusaders had met there every Friday. That is, until a necro-golem crushed it and undead devoured the owner.
My attention soon shifted from the ruins of my favourite pub to the wall of people standing outside the HQ. They held signs, and the muffled shouting sounded like chanting.
The convoy slowed, as Brett swore. Definitely not what we needed! We’d need to call the cops and, depending on what Riaan had told dispatch, they may not come to help.
From here, I could see the contents of some of the placards.
“Why didn’t you save my son?”
“You destroyed my home!”
And many more simply stating:
“You brought death!”
I sighed. I was too tired to feel guilt. And I had long since been schooled by all those I loved, including the voices inside my head, that you could not take the blame for the actions of evil. I fought the Necro Lord. He brought himself here.
Children of Blood (Kat Drummond Book 13) Page 2