Nightfall (Pact Arcanum Integrated Serial Edition) (3 page)

Ana kicked her assailant between the legs. As he staggered backward, she used the distraction to reach into her pocket and pull out her key ring. Letting her keys slide between her fingers, she slammed her clenched fist forward and drove a protruding key into the man’s right eye, just as he straightened up again.

The teenager holding Take and Rory snorted and then began to laugh.

The injured teen merely blinked as the tissue of his ruined eye visibly knitted together. Only the blood spilled down his face marked where Ana’s attack had landed. He growled, his irises gleaming bright red, and then he yanked Ana forward into his arms. “Little girl, you just made a serious mistake.” He smiled, revealing curved fangs where his canines should have been. “And it’s going to cost you.”

* * *

The humans walked into view, two men and a woman, all in their early twenties. They were obviously half drunk and lost, the woman scanning the walls of the alley for landmarks. One of the Nightwalkers stubbed out his cigarette on the wall behind him, then stepped into their way. “A little off the beaten track, aren’t we, folks?”

Antonio watched the three of them awaken to their peril and try to brazen it out. The woman pointed toward Antonio’s end of the alley. “Don’t mind us, boys. We see where we need to go.”

The vampire that had spoken answered, and the other pushed away from the wall as well. “I don’t think so.”

Damn!
They were going to kill all three, right here, while he watched. He was lucky the vampires were so intent on their prey that they had ignored the other heartbeat in the narrow street. Antonio cast kinetic shields around himself, hardened with some of his souped-up personal defense spells, and readied a thermal lance, ready to take out the vampires as soon as he had a clear shot.

That proved difficult. The first vampire grabbed the woman’s arm, and the second darted around them to hold the two men fast.
Come on, people. Give me an opening.

The woman kicked the first Nightwalker between the legs and then slammed her keys into his right eye while he was distracted. The second Nightwalker laughed.

The three humans watched incredulously as the vampire’s damaged eye regenerated in moments. The injured vampire snarled and jerked the woman forward, encircling her with his arms. “Little girl, you just made a serious mistake—and it’s going to cost you.” As she struggled, he manhandled her into a more convenient position, finally turning his back entirely to Antonio for the first time.

Perfect shot.
Antonio released the thermal lance spell he’d prepared and blew the vampire’s head off, the azure fire of the spell spreading down to consume the rest of the Nightwalker’s undead flesh, leaving only ashes behind. The woman, suddenly released, overbalanced and fell to the ground. The second vampire threw the two men into the walls on either side of the alley and dropped to the ground, and Antonio’s second lance went just over his head to explode against a dumpster farther back in the shadows.

The second vampire slapped his hands together and summoned power, sending it boiling out above the woman’s prone form to fill Antonio’s end of the alleyway with emerald fire, but it didn’t penetrate the Sentinel’s shields.
Corrupted flames. Strictly mid-level spellcaster. He’s no threat.

The vampire stared at him in disbelief, then got to his feet and ran away in a blur. Antonio’s next lance spell took him high in the back and burned him to ashes.
Not bad for an old timer. Now what the hell do I do with these three?

He’d have to put a tracking spell on each of them, then have his Air Sentinels visit them and quietly wipe their memories. Which meant that, for right now, he was free to tear them each a new one with impunity. He stepped forward into the light, letting his anger show. “Don’t you people have any sense? Next time, stay in the light, or there might not be someone around to save you.”

He turned to the woman, meeting her eyes to emphasize the lecture he was about to give.

FIRE.

Antonio swallowed his words and stared at her more closely. She looked Native American, but he wasn’t sure. He looked at her eyes again and saw the authority of the Wind of Fire take shape in her gaze. He glanced at the first man, a tall redhead, who stood next to her, breathing hard in confusion and anxiety.
AIR.

Finally, hardly daring to believe, he focused his attention on the final member of the trio, an Asian man who already regarded him with suspicion, as if he were just as great a threat as the vampires had been.
EARTH.

“Merciful God,” he whispered. Then he straightened and looked directly at the Wind of Earth, silently casting tracking spells on all three of them. “My Lord, none of this will make sense tonight, but tomorrow you’ll understand. My name is Antonio Martinez, and any Sentinel you meet in the city can direct you to me. When you open your eyes, seek me out and I will answer any questions you may have.” Then he immediately cloaked himself in a shroud of invisibility and waited to see what they would do.

The Asian man recovered first, turning to the others in angry bewilderment. “What the hell just happened?”

Antonio watched as they argued, finally deciding that they had hallucinated the whole thing and were ready to go home. They headed back to the street and went to the nearest BART station. Antonio frowned as they split up, then pulled out his cell phone and called his second-in-command. “Daniel, get three surveillance teams prepped and ready to deploy as soon as I arrive. I’ll need them to track down a couple of new recruits by the tracking spells I have in place. Make sure the teams are combat veterans, because they’ll need to provide protection as well. I’ll explain the rest when I get back to base.”

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and took one last look at the Wind of Earth before the Asian man disappeared onto a bus. “Welcome to the party, my Lord.”

CHAPTER 2

Rory was floating above a city of alabaster towers and golden streets.
What the hell?

“You’re dreaming, idiot,”
Ana said, clearly amused.

“Oh, right. That explains it.”
He frowned.
I usually dream about Take, not Ana.

“Really?”
asked Take’s voice.
“What kind of dreams?”

“Um, never mind.”
Rory looked around.
“Where are we?”

“Who cares?”
said Ana.
“It’s a dream. Let’s go exploring.”

Take laughed.
“It really
does
have to be an adventure with you, doesn’t it?”

“Bite me, Take,”
Ana said.
“We seem to be moving, anyway.”

Ana was right. They were moving, accelerating toward a single high tower in the center of the city, which glowed brightly in the soft light of early morning. When they drew closer, Rory was able to make out geometric designs and bizarre symbols intricately carved in the white stone.
Wow. My dreams aren’t usually so vivid.
He could even see the lines of individual bricks in the tower’s wall—a wall that was approaching rather quickly. Rory tried to will himself to slow down, but his pace only accelerated.

Just when he was sure he was going to crash and wake up, he passed through the stone and found himself inside the tower. From his vantage point, he could see a multitude of people dressed in colored robes. All of them were standing and yelling at a woman who stood calmly at a podium in the center of the room. She wore a loose white dress, and her waist-length black hair was interwoven with white ribbons. A slim sword in a white leather scabbard was belted around her waist. Next to the podium was a metal table holding a crystal chalice, which was deeply engraved with more symbols like those on the outside of the tower.

“Freaky,”
Take commented.
“Town hall meeting?”

“You don’t wear swords to a civics meeting, Take,”
said Ana.
“Look around. They’re all armed in one way or another. Those guys next to the door are actually wearing armor, for God’s sake.”

An elderly man in a green robe strode forward clutching a long gold walking staff topped with faceted blue crystal. He banged the staff on the floor until the shouting subsided and the people in the stands reluctantly took their seats.

Turning to face the woman in white, he spoke deeply in a language Rory had never heard before; somehow, Rory could understand every word.

“Sister Narissa,”—the man pointed his staff at the chalice—“this artifact is forbidden and must be destroyed. It is the tool of the enemy. We have spent generations eliminating the knowledge of how to perform this ritual. You cannot intend to use it.”

“With respect, Guildmaster, we have no choice. The Children of Darkness will overrun our forces within weeks, and the other nations fare no better. We must take bold action if we are to prevent their corruption from extinguishing the world.” She drew herself up to her full height. “After interrogating the Firstborn we have captured, I have discovered the words to unlock the original ritual, which may be more palatable to us. Instead of enslaving the soul of a proxy, as the Firstborn have done for centuries, I will do as they did in the beginning and use myself as a vessel. My own soul will be the emissary to the higher powers. Only through their intervention can we save ourselves.”

The Guildmaster gazed directly into her eyes. “Very well. But understand this, Narissa: if you return tainted, as they did, then we will kill you ourselves. There can be no second chances.”

“Agreed.” She took a deep breath. “A sacrifice of power will be required to fill the vessel.”

The Guildmaster swept the rest of the assembly with his gaze. “We will all contribute. Let none of our hands be clean.”

Narissa drew a long silver-bladed knife from a sheath on her belt and delicately sliced her wrist.

“Whoa,”
Ana said, shocked.
“What the hell kind of dream is this?”

As the blood poured forth, Narissa expertly directed it into the chalice. When it was half full, she staunched the blood and spoke a series of words Rory couldn’t understand. The edges of the wound sealed, and after a moment the flesh of her wrist was whole again.

Narissa placed her blade on the table and picked up the chalice in both hands. Chanting softly, she raised it over her head. The runes inscribed in the crystal flared with multicolored light. When the invocation was complete, she put the chalice to her lips and began to drink.

Rory recoiled with disgust.
“Okay, this is way too gruesome. I want to wake up now. How the hell do you turn it off?”

“I don’t think any of us are in the driver’s seat,”
said Take.
“You might as well sit back and enjoy the ride.”

Narissa staggered and braced herself against the table. Quickly, she raised the chalice again with shaking hands and began to chant once more. Then she carefully set the artifact down on the table and collapsed to the floor.

Men and women in the stands raised their hands, and Rory could see they each held a glowing pinpoint of light in their palms. The tiny lights flew up like fireflies, lazily swirling through the air and floating toward the chalice. Eventually, they dropped lightly into the mouth of the chalice until it blazed with light. Stepping forward, the Guildmaster picked up Narissa’s knife and used it to draw a circular symbol in the air. The point of the blade trailed orange flames in its wake, which immediately consumed the chalice and the table in a burst of power, scorching the stone floor. “Creator guide your steps, Narissa,” he said quietly. Then he knelt beside her and plunged the silver dagger three times into her heart before casting it aside.

Rory watched in shock as her lifeblood turned the floor crimson. Silence filled the room. Looking around, Rory saw why. Everyone was frozen in place, caught out of time in the act of speaking.

A ghostly image of Narissa rose up from the floor, leaving her body where it lay in a pool of blood. Her dress and body were clean of bloodstains and were so insubstantial that Rory could see right through her. She stood silently, waiting. Then the room was suffused with pure white light, and a voice echoed through the chamber. “Ask and ye shall receive.”

Narissa took a deep breath and lifted her gaze to the light. “Who am I addressing?”

“I am an agent of the White Wind. The Gates of Morning have opened to hear your petition, Narissa of the Order of Light. Ask and ye shall receive.”

“The Children of Darkness have overrun the world, my Lord. I seek the power to combat their forces and drive them back. Can this be done?”

“It can,” said the voice. “But the price will be high.”

Narissa stood proudly, resolved. “I will pay any price you require, my Lord.”

“The price is not for you to pay, Sister Narissa, but for your children and their children, down unto the last generation.”

She swallowed. “What is this price?”

“Consent.”

She blinked in confusion. “I do not understand.”

“We can transform your people into warriors strong enough to stand against the Children of Darkness and their bargain with the Red Wind. They will become masters of combat, divided among the four elements. But in so doing, they will become our soldiers, and we claim their allegiance in every generation until your war is complete. All of them will fight, without choice, without respite, until the Children of Darkness are defeated or your world perishes in fire. You will commit your people, and all of their descendants, to this alliance. And you will do so now, knowing full well that you have stolen their free will.”

“You speak for the Light, my Lord. How can you ask this? Have you no mercy?”

“Every bargain has a price, Sister Narissa. Magic requires sacrifice.”

She hesitated. “You ask too much.”

“Then your world will succumb to darkness. It is of no moment. Choose wisely.”