Minion (33 page)

A collective shiver went through the group.

“He turned
and
killed a cleric,” the chairman stated, breathing heavily. “The woman, realizing what she was about to turn into herself, and that before long she'd die from rapid blood loss, committed suicide with a prayer on her lips and love in her heart for her infant child.”

“A baby girl,” the counselor whispered. “
Neteru.
A vampire huntress. . . .”

For a moment, no one spoke. The council members passed nervous glances among them. Finally unable to stem his roiling curiosity, a question formed in Carlos's mind without censure. He watched as the group seized upon it.

“Other humans rushed to the scene and tried to contain what they thought was a demon, but their incantations didn't work, because the alliance had been formed. The bite signature on the wife and the way the husband's body had been mangled in the struggle, threw them off . . . how would they know a hybrid had been created? They never staked Nuit—they used a ritual—which had no effect on a vampire. The one Amanthra within Nuit perished, but as I said, they have legions. Another simply took its place. Nuit disappeared from the surface and bided his time . . . trying to locate the Neteru. And another human seer—a younger one, female—secreted the baby away. We have been looking for that infant for twenty years.” The chairman sat down heavily in his throne and took a deep swig from his goblet.

“We have also been searching for a way to stop Nuit,” the counselor said in a distant voice. “But he is too strong, once having a power seat at our table. Our brethren outside his marked territory cannot get close enough to him to do the hit. With his alliance, he can now travel freely using the demon realm's high-speed tunnels near the surface, something they have province over which gives them access to the gray zone to possess
bodies, enter households, and claim souls. Those areas in levels one through five are heavily fortified.

“Our portals are few, since we are so deep and close to our Dark Lord. Only our lairs give us access to the topside—and any lair not in the Minion is heavily watched by the Amanthras to be sure we do not breech their tunnels. His lair is impenetrable by our forces, as the Amanthras far outnumber us and guard it day and night—they are impervious to sunlight, our one evolutionary flaw. Topside, Nuit is like a phantom. His senses are keen; he is an old vampire with many skills. The moment we attempt an abduction, Nuit vanishes into an Amanthra portal.”

The chairman glanced at the counselor. “We are at the top of the food chain—and our human helpers above both feed and protect us . . . it is, shall we say, a symbiotic relationship. But even they cannot get to a master's lair, past demonic protection in those numbers.” The chairman paused. “On your way out, our messenger will show you the levels of Hell—just so you can familiarize yourself with the new environment . . . unless you'd care to stay?”

The others around the table nodded and murmured. Carlos sensed a thinly veiled threat. Hmmm . . . this was becoming interesting.

The attorney gained a nod from the chairman and stood. “Your maker, the head of your bloodline, has not only violated our basic policies, but he's been on a dangerous feeding frenzy above.”

Carlos stared at the counselor, whose eyes immediately offered the truth; Fallon Nuit had been the one to take out his family. He'd been double-crossed. Vengeance slithered through him. Raven had to be the one that did Alejandro and the others. He'd seen her work. He'd eaten from her veins and had fucked her—now he could feel her presence as he witnessed how she'd murdered
his brother and posse in the chairman's knowing gaze. The attorney nodded as soon as the thought of Nuit's deceit crossed Carlos's mind. He could feel his brother's death and hear his screams within his head. Tears of bitterness rose to Carlos's eyes and burned away. Fallon Nuit would pay.

“Yes. You catch on quickly. So, we have a proposition for you that will aid us in capturing Fallon Nuit, and will allow you to avenge your family's demise.”

“What comes with this proposition?”

“Oh,” the attorney smiled. “What's in it for you?”

The council members glanced at each other, seeming amused as they murmured, for a moment, among themselves.

“Sit in Nuit's chair,” the head of the council ordered, holding out a hand toward a high-backed black throne.

Taking his time, Carlos complied and sat down, but the sensation of power was so overwhelming that it made him shudder with devastating ecstasy. He had to close his eyes to suffer the wanton pleasure of it. Images, knowledge, history, languages entered his skull so quickly that he thought it would fracture. Information he'd never dared to conceive slammed into his cranium, made his tightly shut lids flutter. A moan escaped his lips as he writhed in the bath of power and knowledge.

“Awesome, isn't it?” he heard the chairman say.

“Yes,” Carlos whispered.

“Let the dark energy fill you. All of this could be yours, if we can come to terms. We don't offer this to every made brother . . . never to a second. If we allow you to keep it, you will instantly become a master.”

Carlos leaned his head back and behind his lids he could see the past fate of nations that had risen. Empires and armies marched into armed conflict. Near delirium, his hands felt electrified and his ears buzzed. Blood was in his mouth. Tears of
pleasure rolled down his cheeks. He felt on the brink of orgasm. He cried out from the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Stand,” the chairman ordered, his harsh tone and steely gaze bringing Carlos around. Immediately the power ebbed and the throne went dead.

As soon as Carlos stood, he could feel his knees buckle. “What do you want?” His question came out on a weak whisper, his gaze still affixed to the throne.

“You were turned immediately—which is not our normal policy. It was a risk we took to snatch your spirit in the death throes, to essentially hijack it while Nuit was siphoning you. There was a split-second window of opportunity caused by your internal struggle and, ironically, the slowness of your soul's descent because of, all things, a prayer and a crucifix you still had on your body. An interesting paradox. However, this poses a risk to beginning another all-out war with the other realms above, as it temporarily violates our ecosystem. But, desperate times called for desperate measures.”

Dazed, Carlos could barely focus his attention on what he was being told. The chair he'd just sat in was whispering to him, calling him, and he wanted more of what it contained.

The counselor appraised him hard; his impatient glare finally forcing Carlos to look at him. “When a vampire delivers a bite, according to supernatural law, it takes three eves before the dark power enters the victim to raise it and mark it into an existing territory. However, Nuit has been running amuck. We normally only allow a certain number of second-generation bites. Only masters can come below—the lesser vampires . . . second and third generations, remain topside, six feet under in graves, or in dark hiding places. We have to keep the territories within pragmatic growth parameters. Second and third generations must kill the victims, then feed. No turns are allowed, as it will make the
humans grow wary . . . much like the natural order of things, where wolves populate more slowly than deer, the supernatural ecosystem must be kept in balance. Nuit has violated even that basic principle.”

“Yes,” the chairman concurred. “Our way keeps our numbers low enough to avoid detection, and the power within the individual vampire family lines diffuse enough to disallow a potential coup. We cannot go back to the old way before the Vampire Council was formed.” The chairman folded his hands in front of him on the table and leveled his gaze at Carlos. “You have been spared, and made immediately—and given immunity to Nuit. You are his equal. You are a master . . . should you accept our proposition.”

“We'll break the hold on Nuit's ring,” one creature near the chairman said in a hissing whisper. “You can remove Nuit's crest at will, but it is advisable that you wear it, lest he become suspicious. Keep it concealed from human eyes as well. Simply project the thought, and it will not be seen.”

“All right,” Carlos said breathing hard, looking at his hand and extending it to them, “but I still don't understand what that has to do with me. Why not use an older vamp? You could have easily dispatched any of them.”

“In Nuit's haste, he bit a guardian's child, mistaking it for a Neteru—and made Raven, after his escape. A female. She, a second-generation vampire, has been making thirds. We know this because each new vampire is entered on our docket and is registered, just like every vampire slain is registered. He overstepped his bounds, topside, in search of the millennium Neteru. We could not let the older vampires in the territories know about the extent of the breech, or what was actually driving Nuit, because each would have searched for the vessel that was previously believed to be mere myth.” The chairman's stare raked
Carlos's mind. “The millennium bridge vampire huntress is no legend. She exists. But our regional masters do not need to know this information.”

Incredulous, Carlos tried to get words to form a simple question that might answer the hundreds of questions stabbing into his brain. “A millennium bridge vampire huntress?”

“It is a female human vessel that is made by the heavens once every thousand years. These warriors are deadly to our kind in particular, and they also exact a heavy toll of losses on the demon realms as well.
Neterus are rare
. She has a ripening time where her womb can either bear another slayer, a guardian, or a daywalker—one of our vampire seed that is impervious to light, and that can breed. At any other time, we can only breed through the bite. However, daywalkers have the ability to impregnate . . . their seed is not dead. This Neteru's presence was made known to us by the alignment of the planets. Only highranking council members like those you see currently seated know such information. Nuit used his seat at our table to gain access to our information vaults and crafted his own rogue plan.”

Carlos allowed his gaze to settle on the chairman. “But I still don't understand—”

“As above, so below,” the attorney said, jerking Carlos's attention toward him. “The vampire empire is held together by an evolving, but fragile thread. Each line master hungers for power, but to date, none have been so bold as to challenge this council. We needed an unregistered new blood. You were dark enough from your life, had been marked as a member of the Minion . . . when you were bitten we seized the opportunity. Nuit's impatience, no doubt from his demon influences running through his system, led him to make a fatal mistake. You're a hybrid, but with a third element running through your veins now—
ours
.”

Carlos looked at the attorney hard.

“You died with a prayer of sacrilege in your heart.” The thing shook his gruesome head. “And
a crucifix
on your person?” The beast had an expression of total disdain. “
A crucifix
—a direct channel conductor to the realms above, anointed, christened on a human
baby
, an innocent, and still on the personage selected by a master to turn? Unheard of. We
do not
conduct business that way! This is of the new breed—no sense of decorum, which is why we are at war with this heresy. I am offended beyond description. This Vampire Council is deeply, irrevocably offended!” The counselor spat, and the others growled their agreed discontent.

Now Carlos stared at the chairman. How had his call to God—

“Not here! Not even in your thoughts!” the chairman bellowed, setting off a round of hisses at the table. “Never think of He who shall remain nameless in our realm.”

“All right, all right,” Carlos stated quickly. “I'm new. My bad.”

The chairman paced behind the table, agitated. “You want to bring upon the end of our empire? Do you want our Dark Lord to come up from the last realm to begin an inquiry? Are you mad?” Breathing hard, the chairman wiped his forehead and looked at the group. “We must educate him quickly. He has no concept of the potential wrath.”

“Who is the huntress?” Carlos glanced around the table, trying to read them but came away with no image. Instinctively he knew they'd locked him out of their minds as they conferred among themselves for a moment, intermittently speaking loud enough for him to hear scattered fragments of their conversation. But he would chill. And
no
, he didn't want to deal with, or have
a run-in with the Dark Lord. Common sense took over. His conceding thought seemed to make the tension in their bodies drain away.

“Our territories are already running rampant with rumors. The demons no doubt have fueled the dissent. Their alliance with Nuit gives them leverage to become transformed into us, but above us, if the vessel is filled . . .”

“Yes,” the attorney agreed, speaking to a council member beside him. “Rivera's prayer sacrilege and carrying
that thing
in his pocket—I can't even say it—gave us a slight window of opportunity. Nuit's full venom could not take root.” He looked up at Carlos. “We were able to circumvent Nuit's full authority over you and give you enough strength in the moment in between while you fell. But in three eves of moonlight, the very thing that opened you to the gray zone of choice, will close. If you die to us, you will awaken to him—and he will not be pleased with you. Need I say more?”

“And?” An eerie confidence filled Carlos. Yes, this was indeed becoming interesting.

“And,” the attorney said quickly, “although Nuit made you, we dispatched a messenger immediately to collect you, just like we immediately turned you—as well as gave you access to a knowledge and power throne. In a few hours, you will adapt in mental capacity as a master vampire . . . we won't have to tell you things, you'll know. This is another indication of our generosity. A good-faith offer, and a vital weapon you'll need to deceive Nuit and get past guardian forces to bring us the Neteru.”