Neon Spark (Dark Magic Enforcer Book 5) (21 page)

I'd thought it nigh on impossible to do such a thing, assumed it went beyond even the grave that the resurrected could go against what was their nature, but here it was in full effect, a horror show to beat all horror shows.

Undead tore, ripped, clawed, bit and chewed. Spat, kicked, yanked and flung body parts as if they were little more than pieces of the rubble they clambered over to get at the retreating, living vampires. Their ferocity was astonishing, their violence untempered by any sign of humanity—although it was doubtful they had any before they died.

Now the house was empty apart from us, and the howls outside soon became little more than the occasional shriek. Then there was silence. I watched through the half barred doorway as the control over the resurrected faltered, and one by one they dropped like stones, dead for the last time, off to the afterlife they deserved.

There was a loud thud and I turned to see Dancer behind me, collapsed and out cold on the floor. I knew what he'd done, what it had taken from him to control their minds like that.

He would be out of action for a long time.

Now it was just me, the wait until dark, and the vampire in her impenetrable lair.

I had no doubt that the moment the sun set she would be out and seriously annoyed at what had happened.

Smiling, I made Dancer as comfortable as I could after pulling him over to the edge of the room, then I settled against the wall to wait for darkness to descend and a monster to come out to play.

Is it Worth It?

I woke with a start, neck locked almost solid where I'd slid sideways against the wall. With a groan, I massaged the muscle and slowly it relaxed enough to allow me to straighten my head. Exhaustion had taken me deep into dreamland, but I was rather surprised my mind had given the go ahead and allowed me to rest.

The day was waning, night crawling over the city with a promise of violence. I guess that was what woke me, my tortured body not so far gone that it didn't give me a nudge before I got my throat ripped out.

Then I noticed the stink. Ugh, the smell of countless dead bodies all releasing foul odors, bowels and bladders emptying as internal motions relaxed and completed their function with one final, mighty evacuation. It may be entirely natural, but boy did it stink, even in the large house now in desperate need of a good construction crew.

Dancer snored soundly where I'd left him, his mind and body still recovering from the extremes he'd gone through to protect us, to save us. What a turn up for the books he'd been. All those secrets, all that age. He was a sly one and no mistake. But he'd come through for me, traveled back from the safety of our own country as he thought I might need his help—he was right about that and I would be forever grateful.

Seemed that anyone who was interested in helping Kimiko was out of the picture, and I wasn't surprised. By now word would have spread about what awaited them inside. They may not know the details, but they would know that hundreds of vampires had tried to kill the two gaijin and not more than a handful had survived. Maybe the few that had got away had spread the news, or maybe they'd left not saying a word to anyone and were right now halfway across the country, or the world, just in case they would be punished for their treachery. I didn't care, all I cared about was putting an end to the madness.

More than anything I wanted to go home and never leave. I just had to deal with what was still inside the damn impenetrable room. I guess it was a house in its own right, the scale of the ancient building we were in making it seem smaller than it was—heck, most houses were smaller than this stronghold Kimiko had herself secured in.

But night would soon be upon the city, when the nasties came crawling out from beneath their dreams of death and destruction to wreak more havoc, yet only one held any interest for me.

As if on cue, lights sprang into life out in the garden, and a number of well positioned lights in the main building cast suitably eerie shadows, highlighting the steel room, stark and cold as the heart of its owner. It was certainly dramatic, but I expected no less. I imagined she had made a rather flamboyant exit from her resting place on numerous occasions, using it to intimidate, to impress, to show those in doubt just how powerful and well-prepared she was.

She was clearly a woman with a flair for making impressions, the whole sword display and the rather interesting array of characters in her other properties I had visited were undoubtedly testament to that.

As darkness wiped away any last remnants of the day, I made my peace with the world. Whatever happened this night I'd done my best, given it my all, and I could never be accused of not trying to avenge my family.

Cursing Rikka one last time, I stood up, brushed myself down as best I could, straightened my tie, and put my hand through my hair. It was stiff, and goopy, and I was sure my face would be caked in the blood of vampires—my clothes certainly were.

No matter. Only one thing was on my mind, and she would be out soon enough.

Dancer whimpered on the floor, his dreams disturbed, punching out with his fists as if fighting the devils we both knew were all too real.

Something whirred, the lights flickered, and the door to Kimiko's safe room began to open.

A Dramatic Exit

"You've been busy," noted Kimiko, taking in the piles of corpses, the demolition of the house leaving the view open to the stars and a crisp, watching moon. A shooting star zoomed by. Another thing dying, same as everything else.

"And you've been watching," I said, knowing she had.

"Of course. It's not every day, not every century, that somebody comes along that dares go up against me, let alone gets this far. But, it happens," she said with a shrug, "and the distraction is always welcome. Keeps me on my toes."

Kimiko was a vision in red. God, she was even more beautiful than ever. The sleep of the vampire restores them like nothing apart from fresh human blood, and she was utterly gorgeous, hair shining in the spreading glow of recessed lighting, silver highlights where the moonlight caressed her impossibly straight hair through the broken building like a corpse's touch. Her silk kimono hung almost to the floor, her painted toes matching her attire, each digit perfect and delicate.

She swept her hair behind her neck with a touch of a perfectly manicured hand, revealing a milky-white neck any vampire worth his salt would be on in a heartbeat. I just wanted to stab it with something sharp and watch the life, or whatever she clung to, pump out of her.

"Has it all been worth it?" I asked, really wanting to know the answer.

A frown crossed her face. She didn't understand. "Worth it? Has what been worth it? You've seen who I am, what I control. This," she swept an arm languidly, indicating the dead enforcers, bodyguards, and freshly turned vampires, "means nothing. There are plenty of humans, always will be. I told no more to come, don't want to waste them when I can deal with you myself. Which will be so very easy."

"Answer the question!" I shouted. "Has everything you've done been worth it? Look at you, holed up in a bloody vault for a home, locked away, unable to rest without such a ridiculous amount of protection. People tied to you because they either have no choice or are only interested in the money or the power. None of them care about you. You're alone."

"Oh, silly little child, how naive you are. Tell me, do you not live in a box, too, made of brick and smaller than this delight you call a prison? My home within a home is just how I want it. I could live in a palace, I have the money, but this is what makes me happy. The power makes me happy. I was born to rule, to have it all. As for friends, ha, they all die, you'll discover that, if you haven't already. Same for lovers, for family. The only thing that remains constant is power and position. Respect, and fear, that's what I have, and that's more than most."

"It's sad."

"Sad! Don't you dare judge me!" Kimiko stepped from the entrance, the door fully open, showing that it was exactly like a bank vault door, six feet thick at least, a maze of bolts and strange mechanisms that would no doubt run around the whole structure making it impenetrable even without the magic spells cast to ensure she was safe no matter what happened outside. I bet it could even withstand a nuclear blast and she'd just sleep soundly and wait a few thousand years for the dust to settle.

Could radiation kill a vampire? Could it kill me? Hopefully that was something I would never find out. Humanity may be mad, but hopefully we weren't that mad. Maybe.

"You really don't get it, do you?" she asked, seemingly genuinely interested.

"I get it all right. You're nuts. You think this brings you happiness, but all it brings is misery. For you and for others."

"No, what you don't understand is that happiness is an interruption. You think people are content? You think life is all love and happy-ever-after? You know that isn't true. The best you can hope for are short bursts of it. But life is hard, cruel, and if you don't take control you get trampled on. Nobody walks over me. I've been there and I didn't appreciate the marks it left behind."

"Like I said. Sad. Sure, life is hard, but making other people's lives worse isn't a way to make your own life any better. It's just another burden to carry. I don't care what you say, the whole point of being alive is to enjoy it, try to make the best of it."

"Oh, and Black Spark, Dark Magic Enforcer, is doing such a fine job of making the world a better place, isn't he?" she said, voice bitter, full of scorn.

"I don't go destroying everything around me just because I can. I don't go killing children's parents just for money, and what, a few books?"

"Such a juvenile. You still haven't worked it out, have you? I didn't do what I did for money, not even for power. Certainly not for magic."

I was confused. What then? Why had she done it if not for what Rikka had offered her, paid her and continued to do so until the day I killed him? "So why did you do it?"

"Because he asked me to."

"As simple as that, eh? He just asked you to ruin a young boy's life and you agreed without hesitation?"

"Something like that, yes."

"You killed my family!"

"And you killed mine, so we're equal." Kimiko held my gaze, waiting for me to understand.

I had no idea what she was talking about. I was a boy when it happened, and hadn't hurt a living soul at such a tender age. What did she mean?

"Gosh, how have you remained alive even this long? You're still the sniveling brat you were all those years ago. My family?" She hinted. "Do I really have to lead you through this like you're a total imbecile?"

"Guess so."

"Rikka."

It made no sense. Was she his daughter? Adopted? A sister? Half sister, anyway? Hell, he was Finnish, she was Japanese.

Then something dawned on me, and she saw the realization hit.

"So you finally understand? Good. You, Faz Pound, you killed my son."

"That can't be true. You're Japanese. And a vampire."

"I'm Eurasian. People do mix, you know. I'm half Japanese. My father was British and my husband, one of them, anyway, the one that matters in this instance, was Finnish. I guess the European gene pool won out with Rikka."

"No, it's not possible. You're lying. Vampires can't have children."

"Silly little boy, you really haven't got a clue, have you? He was my son."

"This is nuts. You're his mother and you killed because he asked?" My head was spinning. Was there no end to his deceit? And how could she have children and even if she did, how come Rikka wasn't vampire? Or was he?

"Of course, I would do anything for my son. I left him when he was a little boy, he was raised by a strong Finnish family I compensated generously, but he always knew. I taught him well, in secret, for many years. Continued to do so right up until..." Kimiko stared at me with utter hate, the most emotion I'd seen her express, more than I believed her capable of.

"This is all your fault," I screamed. "You got your own son killed because you ruined my life. You warped him like he warped me. You ruined your own child."

"No! He would have been a great man, taken my place in the centuries to come once I dominated the Councils and became Head. He would have taken over from me. We would have had it all and you destroyed it."

"Damn, but you are one fucked up woman."

"Oh, Spark, you really have no idea quite what I am capable of."

"Bring it on."

Of all the things I have ever said, that was probably the most stupid. Scrap that, it definitely was.

Kimiko howled like she was tearing apart and then, well, she did.

Outclassed and Outmagicked

Kimiko burst apart as though her body had combusted from the inside, a million wisps of red death that sank into the gaps between this world and the true Hidden world.

A dancing display of blood magic that spun around my body like a swarm of angry bees, solidity replaced with an ephemeral quality that trailed ribbons of pure magic as her constituent parts spun faster and faster, all suddenly combining into a buzzing streamer of smoky hell that threatened to wrap me in a cocoon of hate and suffocate the magic right out of me, like a Python squeezing the life from its prey.

A song came to my lips, unbidden, but summing up perfectly how I felt. "I ain't going out like that," I sang tunelessly as I batted ineffectively at the tightening display of impossible acrobatics—she'd definitely been practicing what she'd been studying in her books.

I could see them through the red haze, stacked neatly inside her metal home. The whole room lined with dangerous tomes that could send you mad if you even read the spines out loud, let alone opened the books that were semi-sentient and often far from friendly.

It was an odd time to admire interior decorating, but there was no doubt she had taste. The room was relaxing, had a woman's gentle touch. Full of expensive rugs, nice seating, even several modern, designer lamps, all with a hint of Japanese minimalism. And now that I thought about it, each of her properties also had a little of the Finnish style to them. Blond woods, simplistic, yet highly skilled carpentry at the fore, and everything clicked.