Dead Rising (34 page)

Russell stiffened when he saw me, his hand going to a talisman around his neck. I raised my hands, showing him that I was free of both physical and magical weapons. “I just want to talk,” I told him.

“I have nothing to say to you.” His eyes narrowed. “You protected them. They’re monsters. How could you do that?”

“They’re no more monsters than you or I. I told you, the ones who did this to your family are dead. By continuing your attacks, you’re proving yourself to be no better than they were. How can you think that killing an entire
Balaj
makes you any different than the vampires who massacred your family in their home?”

“They prey on people. They kill people.”

“We kill for food, too.” I had a sudden vision of a cattle uprising—cows storming the city and killing every human in their path. Even the vegetarians.

“Animals don’t have the same emotional capacity that we do. You know what they did to me, how can you even think of defending them?”

This was going nowhere. Time to bash Russell over the head. “You will either cease your attacks on the vampires, or I will be forced to kill you. Your choice.”

He sneered. “You? A Templar? You’re going to kill another human to protect a bunch of bloodsuckers who prey on humanity without remorse?”

“They are Pilgrims on the Path. You are interfering with their progress. Therefore, their plea for help is more righteous than yours.”

He threw up his hands, obviously just as frustrated with my stance as I was with his. “You won’t kill me. I’ve been studying since I was ten. I’ve dedicated my life to the magical arts, where you’ve spent yours drinking martinis by the pool and studying Latin.”

I winced, because his words struck close to the mark. All the military training and the practice with weapons had all been somewhat academic. It was like rich guys who took fencing to spar with other rich guys, and never saw combat. At twenty-six, enlisted soldiers had already experienced war up close and personal, where I was still sparring and slicing up practice dummies.

And honestly, who fought with Bastard Swords anymore? Or rode a charger in full plate with a lance at the ready? Yeah, I knew how to use modern weaponry, but my lifetime of practice had been geared toward a fighting style long out of date. We were relics. We were rich, entitled, aloof snobs drinking martinis by the pool, confident that no one would attack the Temple, that we no longer had Pilgrims on the Path to guard.

It was an obscene life, and I was embarrassed by it. Which was the reason I was here in Baltimore, working a minimum wage job. It was why I was a Templar but not a Knight. It was why I’d refused to take my Oath—an Oath that was a mockery of the holy mission we’d once been charged to uphold and defend with our lives.

But Russell was wrong if he thought I was without skills. And he was dead wrong if he thought I wouldn’t put away my reluctance to kill another being and end his life. He might be a Pilgrim, but he most definitely was on the path to hell.

“I will continue to guard them every night, while you waste your precious resources attacking the impenetrable defense my faith provides. And I
will
ensure that those I return to the grave are only awakened by the trumpet of Judgement Day.”

He narrowed his eyes. “There are a lot of dead in this city—more dead than you can possibly counter in your lifetime. And as for the vampires, you can’t protect them all. They eventually have to go out to feed, to be away from you, and I’ll have them. I’ve got focus items from nearly half of them, and I’ll keep at it until they die. One by one I’ll rip the souls from their rotted corpses.”

“And your backup plan? You told your thief to steal the scepter. You knew exactly what the vampires had in their possession.”

He smirked. “Just taking it is revenge enough. They’ll turn on each other soon enough. If not, I’ll make them kill each other.”

I sensed his bluff. He was skilled, but not that skilled. “The best you can do with that scepter is make them fight over the television remote.

“I think I can do more than that. It’s a three pronged attack. I’m not going to give up until they’re all dead, every last one of them.

This had to stop. Now.

“You won’t live long enough to manage a prolonged attack. I found you today. I’m sure the vampires have people who are tracking your every move. They plan on killing you at sundown, and if they don’t I will. Give this up or you’ll be seeing the inside of a coffin by the time the sun rises.”

Doubt flickered in his eyes. I leaned forward to press my advantage home. “I found the tracker you put on my car, Russell. You’re not the only one with skills. I’m more than a Templar, and if you think I can’t find you or that I’ll hesitate to end your life, you’re mistaken.”

“You wouldn’t.” There was a tremble underneath the strength of his voice that betrayed his fear. “Kill me and the police will have you on death row. I’m not the only one who notices the sword you carry around.”

I smiled, watching him take a step backward. “I wouldn’t kill you Templar-style. No, when you least expect it, a car will fly around a corner and flatten you. Or a freak windstorm will blow a tree on your head. Maybe a chicken bone will stick in your throat, or an unknown food allergy will take you out.” I leaned closer. “Who knows? Ebola. Avian flu. Anthrax. Small pox. Maybe I’ll send a demon after you.”

“You’re a Templar,” he stuttered, his face ashen.

“I’m not a Knight,” I replied smoothly. “I haven’t taken my Oath, and I dealt with a very nasty demon last week that would love nothing more than to tear a human apart and take his soul. End your attacks and leave this city right now, or you’ll die.”

I turned around to leave, hoping my bluff worked. Yes, I would kill him if I had to, but I was hoping that wouldn’t be necessary. And if it was, I certainly wasn’t going to mess with that demon who’d shown up in Vine’s place ever again.

I had one more card to play if my threats didn’t dissuade him. And if that didn’t work, it was time to scare the living crap out of him with a horrible case of magical food poisoning.

And if that didn’t work…well then, Russell really left me no other choice.

J
ANICE BOUGHT ME
lunch again. I was beginning to really like this reporter woman. I scarfed down my burger and fries like the starving woman that I was, grateful that I wouldn’t need to start my shift at the coffee shop with an achy, growling stomach.

“This is a pretty fantastic tale you’re telling me.” The reporter shook her head. “I can’t exactly report that the surviving member of a murdered family is into the occult and siccing his dead family on the family of the vampires who killed his loved ones, or that he has a scepter that might allow him to command an army of zombies.”

I was just grateful that she didn’t have me locked up in the loony bin as soon as I began telling her of necromancers and vampires, and that she was still willing to pay for my lunch. “Maybe if you say it’s the family of the gang that killed his loved ones forty years ago?”

It made me wonder if the vampires were tax-paying citizens in the eyes of the U.S. government. Not that it mattered. Janice would want to hide the identity of the “gang family” to protect them from other retaliation and harassment. To the vampires, remaining out of the public eye was important. The fewer who knew about them, the safer they’d be while they rested, vulnerable, during the day.

She tapped a French fry against her bottom lip. “That would work, but what Russell is doing is a crime. He’s killing people…well, sort-of people. The police are going to want to get involved, and being jailed for contempt of court because I refuse to reveal my sources isn’t in my long-term career plans.”

“You’ll need to push it more as a human interest piece. Survivor tracks down the family of the people that killed his family.”

“Don’t get me wrong, that sort of thing is golden. People love these kind of follow-up stories that deal with karma and grief. I’m just worried that I won’t have much of a story without the unbelievable supernatural angle.”

“Trust me, there will be one hell of a story either way.”

She slapped two twenties down on the table. “Then I’m in. I’m trusting you on this one, because I’m hoping you’ll come to me with other information in the future.”

“Absolutely. It might be weird stuff, and you’ll need to figure out how to spin it, but I’ll give you the heads up.”

Janice checked her phone. “Then I better get going. It seems Russell Robertson, a.k.a. Findal, is eager to meet with me in regards to information I have regarding the murder of his family.”

My heart raced. This was all coming together, but it seemed too easy. I knew better. The big risk was in what was going to go down tonight. I wasn’t sure how Russell was going to react. Heck, I wasn’t sure how Dario was going to react. Screw the other vampires, it was him I was worried about. If he hated me for this, if things went horribly wrong, I’d have made myself an enemy instead of repairing a friendship.

“I’ll see you tonight,” I told Janice as she rose from the table.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied.

My shift at the coffee shop seemed to crawl along. Every few minutes I was checking the windows, watching the sun slowly creep toward the horizon.

“Think I can get out of here right at nine?” I asked Petie. “Or earlier?”

He smirked. “Got a hot date?”

“Yeah.” It was easier to let him think I was running off to meet an eager boyfriend. In reality I was worried about my ability to get to the north end of Baltimore before sundown. Nine would cut it close—too close. And my arriving late would spell disaster. I’d texted Dario giving him the heads-up, but he wouldn’t get the message until nightfall.

“I don’t know, Aria. You’ve switched shifts and come in late a bunch of times this past week.”

I had. It was totally not like me. How did superheroes do this? Somehow they managed to juggle their secret-identity jobs and crime fighting. Yeah, Spidey got chewed-out a lot at the newsroom, but his boss was a total ball buster. Did others have this problem? Did Superman have to call in to change shifts because Lex Luther was bombing the city?

Batman. Now that guy had it good. Wealthy, with a butler to take care of all the loose ends. That could be me if I took my Oath, if I accepted the money my parents had been sticking in my other checking account. But then I wouldn’t be
me
, I’d be a martini-by-the-pool Templar, not one who would face down a necromancer to protect a group of vampires. And hopefully protect the necromancer, too. Leonora would be thrilled to see him dead, and she would no doubt accomplish that if she had a few more hours.

Hopefully I could avoid that scenario. Hopefully I could ensure the vampires were left in peace, and Russell lived the rest of his natural life with a soul at rest. Somehow that meant a lot to me. Russell locked in a jail cell, or with anger festering inside him for another forty years wasn’t the solution I wanted.

Because he was a Pilgrim, too. He just needed a course redirection.

Petie waved a hand to the door. “Fifteen early, girl. But only because I’m a fan of true love.”

I smiled. I loved my coworkers, really I did. “Thanks. You’re the best.”

“Huh. Just remember that when it’s Secret Santa time. And I like cognac, classic vinyl, and wool socks.”

I winked. “Got it.”

Quarter of nine I busted out the door and revved the engine of my little Toyota, hoping there weren’t any cops as I sped through the city. I didn’t encounter any delays, and pulled up outside the neat brownstone row house as the sun tinted the sky pink and lavender. The same woman rocked on the porch. I took the steps two at a time, and paused to greet her.

“Whatcha want, hon?”

I got a feeling that her “hon” was more local speech than any kind of endearment. “I need to talk to Bella’s guardian.”

She lifted an eyebrow and shook her head. “The girl ain’t fed yet. Won’t be safe for you to enter until she’s got a full belly, if you know what I mean.”

Crap, I’d totally forgotten Bella’s lack of control. Dario should be arriving as soon as the sun went down, but I was hoping to move things along before then, just in case he thought my idea was horrible, or too dangerous. Which it probably was.

“When does her donor for the evening arrive?”

The woman nodded, and I turned, watching as a young man sauntered toward us, grinning as he joined us on the porch.

“I’m Mario, here to meet with Bella?”

Elaine shot me a quick glance. “Can you take Mario in and entertain him until Bella is ready? There’s wine and other refreshments in the parlor.”

I went in, feeling a bit like a Madam in a whorehouse. Mario followed, his swagger indicating his complete ease with the whole process. The table did hold wine with several glasses, as well as…other things.

“Help yourself,” I told Mario as I uncorked the wine. He did help himself—to a jalapeno popper and a line of what looked like cocaine to me. My only experience with drugs beyond Tylenol was what I’d seen on television, so I wasn’t sure what the white powder was. I remembered Sarge and Dario mentioning that donors were provided with drugs, and that with the less restrained vampires, like Bella, they helped numb the pain of the experience.