Lynn Viehl - [Darkyn 08 - Lords of the Darkyn 01] (25 page)

“It’s barricaded from the outside. He will have men standing guard in the corridor as well.” He removed the rope tying her ankles and helped her sit up. “This priest—Pájaro—he is calling himself Helada. Why?”

“He believes he is, or that he will be, as soon as he kills my father. He doesn’t know he’s already dead.” Light-headed, she gripped the edge of the pallet to steady herself. “My father trained Pájaro. He deceived him into believing that he would become Helada by assassination.”

Korvel lifted a hand for silence and went to listen at the door. After someone walked past the compartment, he asked in a low voice, “Why did he deceive him?”

“So he would fight me.” She held out her arm, turning it to expose a long scar, until she saw how he was looking at her. “I fought him, and all my brothers, and grown men, and anyone else my father told me to. Every day of my childhood I fought for my life, until I went to live with the sisters.” Shame as well as the dizziness and nausea made her curl over onto the pallet. She knew vomiting would only make her weaker, so she breathed through it until it passed.

Korvel found a dark woolen blanket and draped it over her, tucking it in around her shivering limbs before he brushed the hair back from her face. “We have a few hours before they return. Rest now. I will keep you safe.”

“Don’t translate the scroll for him, Captain.” She wrapped her hand around his wrist. “Please. There is no elixir, and once he knows the location, he’ll kill us both and go after it.”

“After what?”

She closed her eyes. “I can’t tell you.”

Chapter 15

“L

ooks like two on the ramp and three guarding the access points to the hold,” Nicola murmured as she lowered the binoculars. “No sign of Korvel or the traitorous little bitch.”

“We do not know for a fact that she is a traitor.” Gabriel handed her a pair of dark sunglasses before putting on his own. “Korvel may be using her to find the scroll.”

“She’s a nun who’s having sex with him, and she lured him into an ambush, and she’s the sister of the guy who grabbed them.” Nicola shook her head. “You’re right. I’m being too quick to judge. When we’re done with the mission we should invite her over one night to play Pictionary.”

“Be nice.” He went back to the car and opened the boot, removing a colorful tote bag before he returned. “Do you want to wear the red beret or the Mickey Mouse ears?”

She scowled and held out her hand. “Give me the ears.”

Once they were ready, Gabriel walked with her to the pier, where Nicola began to tow him by the arm toward the ship.

“Get a picture of those barnacles, honey,” she said in a loud voice as she started up the ramp. As Gabriel pretended to use the oversize camera hanging from the strap around his neck, she fluttered her hand at the men standing above them.

“Yoo-hoo. Fellas. Has the tour started?” She frowned as she pulled out a phrase book. “Um, I mean, lay tour co-men-say?”

The men looked at each other before one of them said, “Madame, this is a private vessel.”

“Oh, you speak English, thank goodness.” She heaved a sigh. “I failed French in high school. Twice.”

“Madame, I must ask you—”

“Right, right, you need our tickets for the tour.” Nicola opened the tote bag and began searching through it as she pushed between them to step onto the deck. “Honey, did you put them in the pocket this morning like I told you?”

“Sure did, darlin’.” Gabriel took advantage of the distraction to move past the men and slip up behind another guarding the entrance to the hold. He covered the man’s mouth as he plucked the clear plug out of his nose, and the scent of evergreen grew thick and hot.

“Madame,” one of the men said, “there is no tour.”

“Just a sec, sweetie, I’ve got them right here somewhere.” She lifted her head and gave Gabriel a wink before he went around the corner to deal with the other two guards. “I can’t believe how authentic everything looks,” Gabriel heard her say. “You’re even wearing guns, like real scumbags.”

By the time he had knocked out and secured the other guards, the two by Nicola were growing visibly agitated. “You must leave,” one of them told her. “Now.”

“You’re not our tour guide, are you? No offense, but I’d like someone a little friendlier.” She reached out and plucked the nine-millimeter from one of the guards’ shoulder holster. “Wow, this is really heavy.” Before he could react, she relieved the other guard of his Glock. “I think I like this one better. It’s shinier.”

One of the men grabbed at her, dislodging the Mickey Mouse ears off her head. The wind caught the hat and sent it sailing over the side.

“Hey.” Nicola glanced over the railing before she scowled at the guard. “You drowned my ears. You
douche
.” She straightened, then flipped the guns in her hands, holding the barrels as she used them to pistol-whip both guards at the same time. “I loved those ears.” As the men crumpled to the deck, she tossed one of the guns to Gabriel before she leaned over the unconscious guard. “I ought to shoot you in the head, you heartless Mickey Mouse–hating bastard.”

Once they had dragged the bodies out of sight, Gabriel listened at the entrance to the hold. “Several down below. Korvel?”

She turned around slowly, her eyes glittering before she stopped and pointed at a spot on the starboard side of the ship. “Two decks, maybe three. He’s not alone. ‘Clueless Tourists’ isn’t going to work down there.” Nicola stripped the dark windbreaker and wool hat from one of the guards, and handed them to Gabriel. “By the way, why do
I
always have to be ‘Helpless Hostage’?”

“You’re the girl.” He exchanged his beret for the wool hat, using it to cover his hair, and shrugged into the jacket.

“So?”

He took the gun from her hand and tucked it into the back of her belt. “When do we ever raid a place with girl guards?”

She sighed heavily as she placed her arms behind her back and leaned up against him. “Well, if we ever do,
you
have to be ‘Helpless Hostage.’”

“Agreed.” He pressed his gun against her temple and walked down the stairs into the hold.

Gabriel opened his mind to the insect life infesting the ship, using their eyes to navigate through the narrow, dark passages between decks. Nicola walked naturally until they encountered the first crewman, and then her gait changed to a cringing stumble as Gabriel marched her past the man, who didn’t give them a second glance.

“These boys are hard-core,” she murmured, tugging Gabriel around a corner and pausing there to focus on their surroundings. “We’re close, but there are a couple guys near them.” She shook her head slightly. “The scroll is there, too.”

He heard the odd note in her voice. “Is something wrong with Korvel?”

“Not him. The scroll.” She brought one of her hands to her temple. “The treasures and stuff you guys made always call to me, but something about this thing has my radar all fucked-up.”

“Fucked-up how?”

“It feels good to find stuff, you know, like scratching an itch. But this time, it’s not itching.” She tapped the heel of her hand against her head. “It’s screaming.”

Gabriel didn’t understand the other side of her gift, but he had learned to trust her instincts. “Could it be a forgery? Bait for another ambush?”

“No. This is definitely Kyn. Old, scary Kyn.” She gripped his hand with hers. “Come on. Korvel is right on top of the thing.”

Gabriel reached out to the minds of the Many, but none inhabited the deck where Korvel was being held. When he tried to compel a swarm of fruit flies to abandon a crate of rotting lemons in the galley and fly down to the second level, they would go only as far as the stairwell. While he could force them to carry out his commands, Gabriel instead released them. The only time insects resisted his control was when their survival instincts were aroused. The fruit flies, the least discriminating of all winged insects, knew something on the deck would kill them.

When he and Nicola reached the bottom of the stairs, Gabriel breathed in. Along with the scents of the three mortals guarding the corridor came a sickly-sweet smell of a very specific decay: blood rot. The three men shared the same disease.

And all three men were dying of it.

At the turn of the passage Gabriel held Nicola back. “Walk ahead of me to the compartment. Do not engage the men. Leave them to me.”

“Don’t worry; I can smell it, too.” She took a quick glance around the corner and then stepped out into plain view. When he reached for her, she shook her head and walked into the corridor.

The three mortals Gabriel had sensed sat unconscious in slumped positions against the walls, their weapons where they had dropped them, their clothes soiled with vomit and blood. Nicola eyed the nearest man, breathing in his scent before she pressed two fingers against his wrist.

“He barely has a pulse.” She scanned the corridor. “What the hell did this?”

Gabriel pressed the side of his finger to his lips, and went to the door of the compartment in the center of the corridor. On the other side he could hear a mortal speaking.

Nicola came and put her hand against the door, and then held up three fingers before she took the gun out of her belt and chambered a round.

Gabriel put his hand on the latch, nodding to her just before he wrenched the door open. They stepped in together, guns ready.

Korvel, whose hair was oddly short and copper-colored, stood by a table, a notepad and a golden scroll in his hands. On the other side of the room a man dressed as a priest held a pale-faced woman in front of him. He had lodged the tip of a stiletto in her ribs, and held it at the correct angle to thrust it into her heart. In his left hand he held a pistol trained on Korvel.

Nicola focused on the weapon. “Copper rounds,” she murmured to Gabriel, before she said in a louder voice, “Nice haircut, Captain. Can’t say I love the color, though.”

“Put down the guns,” the priest said, “or I will kill him.”

“No.” The woman’s green eyes fixed on Gabriel. “Shoot me.”

“No one is going to shoot anyone.” Korvel kept his eyes on Pájaro. “Your men are dead, and you can’t escape. Give her to me, and I will let you live.”

“You’re not a fool. You will do no such thing.” The priest sniffed several times before he suddenly changed his aim and fired, striking Nicola in the upper arm.

She dropped her gun and reeled back into the wall, almost falling before Gabriel caught her in his arms. She clapped a hand over the bloody hole in her jacket. “You son of a bitch.”

Gabriel eased her to the floor. When he straightened his eyes began to glow with an eerie coldness. To Pájaro, he said, “Now you die.”

The priest fired again as Gabriel came at him, grazing his head. It took two more rounds, one in each leg, to bring him to his knees.

“Enough.” Korvel stepped in front of Gabriel to shield him, and flung the notepad at the priest’s feet. “Take it and go.”

Instead of grabbing the translation, he lifted Simone. “Where is he? I left a trail even an idiot like you could follow.”

“He’s not coming for you,” she said, her head recoiling as he backhanded her. “He’s never coming. He’s dead.”

“Lying bitch.” He raised his fist.

“She speaks the truth,” Korvel told him. “Her father has been dead for ten years.”

Simone reached into the collar of her shirt and pulled out the cross. “Do you recognize this?”

Pájaro jerked the chain from her neck. “The old man’s cross. He never took it off.” He tightened his fist around it and laughed with delight. “I don’t even have to fight him.” He shoved Simone down on her knees. “Pick up the translation.”

When Simone had Korvel’s notes in her hands, Pájaro dragged her back to her feet and hauled her around the two wounded Kyn to the door. He took the notepad out of her hands before he raised the pistol over the back of her head and clubbed her.

Korvel picked up Nicola’s gun and shot the priest four times in the chest.

Pájaro staggered back, then looked down at the holes in his cassock. Flattened slugs began dropping to the deck as he patted a bulky vest under his garment. “You can’t kill me, vampire. I am Helada now, and the scroll will make me Helada forever.” He stepped out into the corridor, slamming the door and barricading it from the outside.

Korvel knelt down to check Simone, who was unconscious. Once he carried her back to the pallet, he charged the door, ramming against it with his full weight. Steel buckled, and a large dent appeared in the surface, but the door held.

“Captain.” Nicola hobbled over to Gabriel, who was trying and failing to get to his feet. “Give me that stiletto, will you?”

He picked up the blade and brought it to her. “What are you doing here, Nick?”

“Oh, rescuing your ass. Aren’t we doing a bang-up job?” She glanced at Gabriel’s face. “No. You are not going after him.”

His
dents acérées
glittered as he snarled, “He shot you.”

“He shot you more. We’ve got Korvel; we’ve got the scroll; we’re done.” She pushed him onto his back. “Fucking priests, I swear to God, I should just shoot them on sight.”

“He’s not a priest.” Korvel tore the bullet holes in Gabriel’s trousers wider before he looked at the Kyn lord. “This will be painful.”

“I spent several years being tortured daily, Captain. I believe I can endure a few minutes of discomfort.” Gabriel closed his eyes.

Korvel gently inserted the tip of the stiletto into the bullet wound, pressing in until he felt the slug. With a quick twist he forced it up and out of the wound.

Nicola bit her wrist and held the wound so that her blood dripped onto the bullet hole. “So how have you been, Captain? Get a chance to see the sights while you were here, or have you been too busy doing the nasty with Little Miss I Might Not Actually Be a Nun?”

“Simone isn’t a nun. She is
tresori.
A sentinel. We have been working together.” Korvel went to work on the other leg. “Did Richard send you after me?”

“Uh-huh. Vampire king really wants that scroll. You, maybe not so much.” As Gabriel grimaced, Nicola took his hand in hers. “Hang on, baby. He’s almost got it out.” She touched the graze the first bullet had left on the side of his head. “What were you thinking? That asshole could have put one in your heart.”