“Apparently not.” Jack brought his sword up in a two-handed grip and slowly approached his opponent.
He knew what the stakes were. A single decent hit from either of them would be enough to demolish the other. Hell, a grazing blow from Zedekiah’s Scepter would probably be enough to steal Jack’s supernatural essence—which was what he wanted, but not if it involved dying to Pierce immediately afterward.
He circled Pierce in the center of the room, knowing that this would be the last fight between them. The circumstances were simple and classical, like so many of the duels recorded throughout history and legend. A fight to the death, with both of them equipped with weapons to easily do the job, assuming they could land the first strike.
Pierce feinted forward, spinning at the last second to whip his scepter around from the opposite side. Jack deflected the blow with his sword, twisting his wrist and making a quick attempt at using the tendril dangling from the bottom of his weapon to loop around the scepter. Pierce pulled back in time to avoid it.
Zedekiah’s Scepter didn’t have the reach of Jack’s Spectral Sword, but it still hummed with enough power to make his own ethereal weapon seem almost tame in comparison. Pierce appeared more than willing to push on the offensive, following their first engagement up with a series of rolling strikes.
Jack deflected, dodged, and then retaliated, swinging his sword in a harsh overhead chop with all the speed he could muster. Pierce knocked it aside with the scepter, and the moment of contact was intense enough to make Jack’s hands tingle. He figured that could have also been an effect of the artifact’s electrically charged nature, though.
The both watched each other for an empty moment in between attacks. Pierce moved first, surging forward and trying to swing his scepter like a club at Jack’s head. Jack caught the strike on his sword, and for a second or two, they locked weapons, pushing against each other.
“You can’t win,” said Pierce.
“I disagree,” said Jack.
He pushed forward with all the strength he had, drawing from his blood essence in an attempt to overwhelm his opponent. Pierce was like an immovable object, barely staggering as he matched Jack’s efforts.
With a sudden flourish, Pierce exhaled and lurched forward, finally knocking Jack back. There was magic in Pierce’s push, and it was enough to send Jack flying through the air. He tried to focus and cast Shadow Levitation, but he was a second too slow. He felt his back slam into one of the stone pillars hard enough to crack stone, and slid down it to a sitting position, stunned by the impact.
Pierce closed the distance between them faster than Jack’s eyes could follow. He saw the movement in frames, Pierce running at him, and then the scepter coming down in an impossibly quick strike toward his head. Pierce was fast, faster than he was. But speed and reflex were not the same thing, and Jack’s talents lay mostly in the latter.
He didn’t cast Shadow Form so much as blink into it. Pierce’s strike passed through darkness in place of his skull, Zedekiah’s Scepter deflecting off the stone pillar Jack had been crumpled against. He heard Pierce swear under his breath as he rematerialized on the other side of the chamber.
“I don’t understand you, Pierce,” called Jack. “How can you justify any of this? Sitting back with your worshippers and your harem. Ignoring the fact that there is true evil in the world.”
It was clear to him that he was outmatched by Pierce. He might be able to draw even for a while longer, but his blood essence reserves would deplete at an exponentially faster rate than the ancient store of power contained within the scepter. He needed to buy himself time, even just a few seconds.
“There is no good and evil, really,” said Pierce. “Just people. The choices we make. The things we do. None of which matter when we die.”
“I used to think something similar,” said Jack. “You’re partly right. I don’t think ‘good’ exists, at least not in any pure sense. But trust me when I say this, Pierce. Evil is real. Evil exists in the world, and not many people are strong enough to stand against it.”
Pierce hesitated, saying nothing for a moment. It was the chance Jack had been waiting for. He sucked in a quick breath and reached out to Reese with his Blood Sight. He didn’t have time to do more than impart a hasty, desperate message.
“Head into the village. Be ready outside the temple. Have your cats hidden from view by the entranceway.”
Jack blinked and refocused on the chamber in time to see Pierce rushing at him. It was all he could do to block the overhead smash Pierce had intended for his face. Jack fell backward a pace. Pierce lifted his hand and launched a blast of kinetic force similar to the one that had sent him into the pillar earlier. This time, it threw Jack twenty feet through the air, and with no obstruction to stop him, he landed in a messy, painful sprawl.
He stumbled to his feet. Pierce bore down on him, obviously ready for the fight to be over. Jack focused on defending, slowly maneuvering himself around, and then back toward the door. It had only been a minute since he’d reached out to Reese, but he didn’t have time to wait, regardless of whether she’d done what he asked.
“This fight has been long overdue, Jack!” shouted Pierce. “But we both know it can only end one way. You were a fool to come here.”
Pierce swung his scepter in a merciless arc. Jack blocked it with his ethereal sword and felt the weapon shatter from the impact, dissolving into shadow. He’d let it do that on purpose, and tried to keep the fear on his face looking realistic as he turned toward the chamber’s entrance and sprinted out into the night.
Jack pretended to trip as he made it out on the grass. He saw the smile on Pierce’s face, and almost felt bad as he watched him walk into the trap. Reese’s cats were on him in an instant, and Pierce let out a cry of surprise that almost immediately shifted into a horrified scream.
The cats had clearly done this before, judging from their coordination. The four smaller ones each seized a limb, while the hulking tiger slammed into Pierce from behind, pinning him to the ground. All of the cats tore with their claws, shredding the ceremonial tunic and several layers of skin. Pierce’s scream was cut off as the tiger closed its massive mouth on his throat, sharp teeth and crushing jaws puncturing through flimsy windpipe.
It was horrifying, though it was exactly what Jack had been hoping for. He forced himself to look past the grisly scene and toward the scepter, which lay next to Pierce and the thick pool of blood forming underneath him.
His hand trembled with anticipation as he reached down to pick it up. Never in his wildest dreams had he thought that Mezolak would actually give him a chance to recover Zedekiah’s Scepter, but here it was.
It represented so much more to him than just simple freedom. He’d be free from Mezolak’s loyalty oath, but he’d also be free from having to feed. Free from living a life expecting the Order of Chaldea to descend on him at any moment and exact their supernatural justice. Free to go home, relax with the money in his inheritance, and maybe even reconnect with the women he’d loved and lost.
“Stop,” said Reese, just before he grabbed it. “Don’t touch the scepter.”
The command echoed in Jack’s head, triggering the same response that Mezolak’s voice did whenever he put force into his words. He felt a strong compulsion to pull away from the scepter, as though he’d just realized that it was radioactive, or covered in poisonous thorns.
“No…” muttered Jack. “No!”
He let out a scream and forced his hand toward it anyway. He was so close. He’d waited for so long, enduring his sentence as a supernatural slave, and this had been the hope that had kept him going. Jack reached out toward the scepter with every ounce of willpower he had. If he could just have it in his hand for a few seconds, that’s all it would take.
“I said stop!” snapped Reese.
The pain. He hadn’t forgotten about the pain, but it still forced itself into him with an intensity that made him feel like he had. It boiled within him this time, making
his blood feel like lava in his veins and his skin scream with the pain of a hundred simultaneous acid attacks.
Jack screamed, though he was in too much pain to hear it. He fell to his knees next to the scepter, still trying to reach out to it. His fingers wouldn’t work. It hurt so much. He couldn’t think. His eyes were rolling up into the back of his head. He couldn’t see. He stopped.
“Sorry about that,” said Reese. “You really shouldn’t have made what you were about to do so obvious, though.”
Jack blinked, coming back to reality in the aftermath of the hell he’d just endured. Reese had the scepter, though she was sliding it into a long, cloth bag rather than channeling its magic herself. Her cats were still playing with Pierce’s body, some of them taking bites out of it, while others were batting at his feet and face with their paws.
“How?” asked Jack. “You… all this time. I thought you were supposed to be my thrall.”
“Of course you did,” said Reese. “That’s what Mezolak told you, after all. He gave me a potion ahead of time, designed to block out the effects of enthrallment.”
If Jack hadn’t been so immensely crushed by his own disappointment, he would have smiled at the irony. Instead, he buried his face in his hands, and let out a tired, defeated sigh.
“He used his magic to extend his control over you to me,” said Reese. “He suspected what you were up to, of course. My role was to stay close to you and make sure you stayed loyal.”
“But—the way you acted was so…”
“The whole cat-girl thing?” Reese grinned at him. “It was intentional. It’s rather effective at getting people to let their guard down. Especially men.”
Jack gritted his teeth. He let out a roar as his disappointment intensified, becoming a roiling, full-body fury. He threw himself at Reese in a desperate attempt to strip the scepter out of her hand.
“Stop,” said Reese. “Don’t make any attempt to touch the scepter again or disobey me in any way.”
Jack stumbled before he came within reach of her. He fell to his knees. He knew that if he kept resisting, she’d just give the command again, and maybe a third time. Reese didn’t seem as concerned about preserving the integrity of his mind as Mezolak had.
He ran a hand through his hair, smiling despite—or maybe because of—the tragedy of his circumstances. He felt like he wanted to cry. Or to throw up. Maybe both at the same time.
So close, and yet so far.
“Come on,” said Reese. “Mezolak is waiting for us.”
CHAPTER 10
Reese drove the Hummer on their way back to the small airport. She commanded Jack to sit in his seat and remain quiet, though given his mood, he would have done so regardless. He hadn’t made it past the depths of his despair yet, and it was hard for him to do much other than attempt to avoid thinking about what the future held for him.
They traveled through the night and all of the next day without stopping more than a couple of times. Reese parked the Hummer at the airport and led her cats onto the waiting plane. Jack followed after her, all but collapsing into his own seat. He just wanted to go to sleep. To go to sleep, and not wake up again.
“You’ll need to feed soon, won’t you?” asked Reese.
He didn’t answer her.
“Don’t be obstinate,” said Reese. “The fight with that god pretender took a toll on you. Now will be a good time for you to restore your strength. Mezolak has informed me that we’ll be needed again as soon as we arrive back in Arc City.”
“I’m not going to feed off you,” said Jack. “I’d rather die from my thirst.”
“There’s no need to be so dramatic,” said Reese. “Come on. It will make you feel better. I kind of like the sensation, anyway.”
She walked over to him and sat down in his lap. Jack resisted the urge to give her a hard push into the aisle. He breathed in through his nose, letting himself enjoy the depths of her smell. She was right. He would have to feed again, eventually. He couldn’t give up, not without taking revenge on Mezolak and getting his freedom.
“You like the sensation?” he asked, making eye contact with her.
“Does that surprise you?” asked Reese. “I’m sure your thralls have told you that before.”
Jack let his thumb run across her neck. Reese leaned in a little closer to him, brushing her short, white hair aside to give him easy access. He let his lips trail across her neck, then sank his fangs in.
Reese let out a pleasured gasp as Jack began to drink. He took a deep, sucking sip, feeling his thirst as her sweet, lavender blood flowed into him. It was almost like the first sip of water after waking up from a dehydrated night. His vision felt clearer, and his thoughts flowed with focus. He had an idea, one so simple that he was surprised he hadn’t thought of it earlier.
Jack kept drinking her blood. He didn’t slow down, making each sip as huge as it could possibly be. He let one of his arms wrap around Reese’s waist and held her in an embrace that would have been tender, if not for the strength he put into it.
He was going to drain her. She’d either forgotten or overlooked the simple fact that if he decided to, he could just keep drinking her blood until there wasn’t enough left to keep her alive. She’d be in too much pleasure to stop him, or possibly even realize what was going on. She wasn’t even able to tell him to stop, as breathless as the sensation had left her.
Jack ran a hand through her hair. Despite the sinister nature of what he was doing, it felt both intimate and erotic. Reese was quivering in his lap, buckling from the pleasure. Dying in his arms, and shuddering like a woman on the cusp of an orgasm. He drank even deeper of her blood, feeling a rush as essence flooded back into his reserves.
“You…” Reese only managed the single word. Jack would have smiled, had his mouth been free to do so. He let one of his hands slide down the front of her sundress and over her breasts.
An ear-splitting roar came from Jack’s right, and a massive, open-pawed blow immediately followed. It hit Reese as much as it did him, but served its purpose, breaking the contact of his mouth and knocking them apart.
Five more seconds, and Reese would have been done. Jack gritted his teeth as the hulking tiger snarled and forced itself between them. Five more seconds, and he’d have had the scepter, his freedom, and a chance at an honest life.
“That,” said Reese, while panting and holding her neck, “was a very foolish thing to try to do.”
Jack grinned at her.
“It almost worked,” he said. “And besides, I told you that I didn’t want to bite you. You should listen more closely next time, Reese.”
Her glare became even more intense, and all of her cats seemed to mirror her emotions.
“If you ever try that again,” she said. “I’ll kill you.”
Jack grew serious, and gave her a slow nod. He held himself back from explaining that if he ever tried it again, it would only be in a situation in which her cats weren’t around, and she’d have no chance of escape. Better to let her think that he’d learned his lesson and reformed from his rebellious ways.
The flight was straightforward and relatively calm, after that. Reese was flanked by her cats while she rested, clearly fatigued by the amount of blood Jack had drained from her. He got some sleep, too, knowing that he would need to be at full strength if another opportunity to turn the tables on Mezolak and Reese presented itself.
It was past midnight when the plane touched down. Jack had moved up to one of the seats near the front of the cabin and climbed down the exit stairs as soon as they opened. Mezolak was waiting for them, leaning against his car, illuminated by one of the nearby lampposts.
“Where is it?” he asked, as soon as Jack and Reese were within earshot.
“Here.” Reese passed Zedekiah’s Scepter to him, still contained within the cloth bag she’d placed it in. “Jack tried to take it for himself, just as you suspected he would.”
“Of course.” Mezolak smiled, and didn’t seem the least bit su
rprised or angry. “It matters not. Our timetable has been moved up. We must begin immediately.”
“You sound worried,” said Jack. “Does this have anything to do with what you said about the Order being suspicious before we left?”
“Astute as always, mortal,” said Mezolak. “In fact, it does. They’ve started to grow suspicious of me, and I believe they will act soon.”
“Suspicious of you?” asked Jack. “You mean they want you dead.”
Mezolak’s smile twitched slightly. Reese was still loading her cats into the back of the SUV, and the demon took a step closer to Jack, holding eye contact.
“Oh, they would, if they knew who I really was,” said Mezolak. “To them, I’m a seldom-mentioned former member of their organization, mostly minding my own business in retirement. A man broken by the death of his beloved and made into a recluse by his despair. You forget, mortal, that to all who have not been told otherwise, I’m still James Farmoore. Your father.”
Jack gritted his teeth, and his hands clenched into fists. Hearing Mezolak say his father’s name was enough to trigger his anger. He knew it was pointless. He wouldn’t even be able to get a punch off if he tried, let alone trying to use his blood magic to strike a killing blow. He took a slow breath and forced himself to relax. He would be in a far better position if he could manage to keep a lid on his temper.
“What’s your plan, then?” asked Jack.
“First,” said Mezolak, “we must test what you’ve brought to me.”
Mezolak drove Jack, Reese, and all of the cats through Arc City’s outskirts. Jack was a little surprised that all of the animals managed to fit. It was a bit of a squeeze, but Reese didn’t seem to mind sitting amidst the tightly packed, furry bodies in the backseat.
They returned to the refrigerated storage facility where Jack had been forced to kill Brian a few days earlier. The bloodstain was still there on the concrete outside the door. He tried not to look at it, and he tried even harder not to consider whether Brian would be the last person he’d be forced to kill at Mezolak’s command.
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