Sam Harlan (Book 3): Damned Cold (25 page)

“You’re not still upset, are you?” Meriwether asked.

Jameson shook his head. “How could I be upset? Demons never give what they offer.”

“Ack,” Meriwether said, putting his hand to his chest. “You wound me. I would have taught you magic beyond your wildest dreams. The means to work with the forces of creation.”

“You were never going to deliver,” Jameson said. “You cannot tell the truth. It’s beyond you. It is in your very nature to deceive.”

“When did I ever deceive you?” Meriwether asked.

“Wait,” I said. “If you’re a demon, then why bother with Nicky?”

“Ah,” Meriwether said. “Even the Harlan understands. I honor my promises. The knowledge to cure the boy was a small price to pay for a willing host. And what power this body
contains
.”

“That’s because you have none of your own,” Jameson said. “You’re impotent.”

Meriwether clucked his tongue. “Petty insults are beneath you, Patrick.”

“You have no power here,” Jameson said. “Only that which you steal.”

Meriwether cocked his head to the side. “Call it what you wish, but I have knowledge, and knowledge
is
power. Take the vampire. Do you know how difficult it was to ensnare?”

Jameson nodded to Jodie, still dangling from Barlow’s grasp. “The coven figured out how to do it
without
your help.”

“The youngling?” Meriwether scoffed. “They caught a fly, but they hadn’t figured out how to control it.” He glared at Jodie, his face full of malice. “Amateurs. You give your kind a bad name.”

Dawn sobbed, great wracking sounds that shook her chest, but Jodie was trying to maintain a brave face. “Don’t do this,” she choked out. “Please.”

Meriwether frowned. “Would it surprise you to know that I derive no pleasure from killing?”

“You lie,” Jameson said.

“That’s the problem with being a demon,” Meriwether said, shaking his head. “No one believes when you tell the truth. I realize you think me a monster—”

“Because you
are
a monster,” I said.

Meriwether whipped around to glare at me. “Spoken like a little man with a little mind. What do you know of the world, Sam Harlan? You’ve seen so little of it. I don’t enjoy death, but I’m not afraid of it.”

“Of course not,” Jameson countered, “because you don’t die. Your spirit is everlasting, forever doomed to live in Hell, far removed from God’s glory.”

“God?” Meriwether said. “You think He cares about you? Where is He? He’s abandoned you!” He practically spat the last words at me. “Where was God when your family was murdered? Did He help you? Did He offer you solace? Did He right the wrongs against you?”

“How do you know my family was murdered?” I asked.

“Knowledge
is
power,” Meriwether said. “I broker in fact, and I know all the facts about you, human.”

“He’s lying,” Jameson said to me. “That’s what he does.”

“I’ve given humanity so much,” Meriwether said. “Your little mind can’t begin to comprehend it. I gave humanity the knowledge of fire. How to cook with it, and how to keep the night at bay.”

“Which made us afraid of the dark,” Jameson said. “We used fire to make war on each other.”

“What about gold? I taught you how to mine it and how to refine it. I taught you how to craft it and make such beautiful things—”

“You taught us greed,” Jameson said, his voice rising. “You bred ignorance and envy.”

“Gibbering little monkeys. You’re
never
satisfied,” Meriwether said. “I give you something, anything, and you demand more. Do you think knowledge comes without a price?”

“You will go,” Jameson said. “You will go back to Hell, where you belong. This place is not for you. Leave this place! I command it!”

Meriwether threw his head back and laughed, then hitched his thumb at the priest and said to Barlow, “Can you believe this guy? Your faith isn’t as strong as it used to be, Patrick. You don’t have the juice to banish me. Besides, I’m not ready to leave. Not yet.” When Barlow said nothing, Meriwether continued, “I’m so unappreciated. Of course you wouldn’t think so, would you, little beast?”

Barlow’s eyelid twitched, but it was the only indication that he was listening. He continued to hold the two women in his iron-like grasp.

The screams had died out from the other room and there came the sound of shuffling, like something scraping across the floor. A stick man appeared in the doorway to the living room, just like the one that had attacked us in the Best Western.

“Cleaned up the riffraff?” Meriwether asked.

The stick man’s head was made of thick branches with a few dead leaves still attached, and its eyes were emotionless orbs. It inspected the room, then dipped its head in acknowledgment.

“Fantastic,” Meriwether said, then yelled toward the door leading outside, “Chester, it’s safe to come in now, you coward!”

The big man from Meriwether’s house entered the kitchen. “I ain’t a coward.”

Meriwether grinned. “Sure you aren’t.”

“Besides,” Chester whined, pointing at the stick man, “you got those things.”

Meriwether smirked. “Calm down, big fella. I was only teasing. Get them and get moving. Miles to go and all that.” The big man nodded and followed the stick man into the living room. “Carlton wants to savor this moment, but I have business to attend to. Patrick, you’ll be coming with us.”

“Where are you taking me?” Jameson asked.

“I’m going to make you watch as Nicholas slashes Dawn’s throat. Your God will do nothing to stop it, I’m afraid. That’s just the first step, my pet. I’ll force you to watch
everything
and then you’ll realize how powerless your little God is.”

Chester returned with Molly Gary and Rachel Warren’s bodies thrown over his broad shoulders. A stick man followed him, carrying the unconscious forms of Jaime Alcorn, Carly Schrock, and Karrie Showalter.

“What about them?” I asked. “You said you didn’t enjoy killing.”

“I don’t,” Meriwether said, “but I have plans for them. I discovered how to control vampires a long time ago, but what they are and how they work remain a mystery.” He pointed at Barlow. “I’ll feed them to the little beast. He will turn them. They call it ‘giving the gift,’ but I will be the one receiving the present. I will
finally
learn how vampires work and where they come from.”

I had a sinking feeling in my gut. “What about us?”

Meriwether’s head swiveled to Jodie, his neck turning just a little too far to be considered normal. “I have no use for Jodie. She could muck up the ceremony and make a mess of things.” He turned and removed his glasses, staring at me with unblinking eyes. “As for you, Sam Harlan, a man such as yourself presents an interesting opportunity for study. But…”

I was afraid of the answer. “But what?”

“You simply
aren’t
worth the effort.”

“You said you wouldn’t kill me.”

He shook his head. “I said I wouldn’t lay a finger on you, and I shan’t.”

I swallowed hard. “Let Jodie go, too. She won’t be a problem.”

Meriwether raised an eyebrow. “She won’t?”

“She’s offered you no threat,” Jameson said.

“True,” Meriwether said to Jameson. “But she greatly offended my host with her churlish attitude, and let us not forget her pathetic band of losers. No, Carlton would love to make you suffer, but frankly, she’s not worth my time, either. She is just one more loose end to clean up. Like Harlan.”

“If you want me to beg,” Jameson said, swallowing hard, “I’ll beg.”

“Of course you would. That’s what makes this so delicious. Little beast, bring the girl and the priest.” Meriwether snapped his fingers as Chester and one of the stick men reentered the kitchen and pointed in my direction. “Kill Harlan and the Rexford bitch. Meet us when you’re done.”

“You said you wouldn’t lay a finger,” I said.

“I won’t.” Meriwether pointed to the stick man. “It will.” He threw his head back and laughed. “I can’t
believe
you fell for that. There’s a sucker born every minute.”

“Wait,” I said. “What about Callie?”

Meriwether spun and faced me, his wide smile displaying his teeth. “Did I forget about the Sister? I said I would hurt her if you
didn’t
break the medallion, but I never said I
wouldn’t
hurt if you
did
. No, I will break her, just as I’ll break dear Patrick. When they’ve finally given up their faith? It will be … exquisite.”

Meriwether left as
the stick man grabbed me by the throat. I tried to resist, but the thing was just as strong as the one that had attacked us in the hotel. I tried to grab its chest, but it wrapped its left arm around me, pinning my arms to my sides as its right hand squeezed my throat with inhuman strength.

I panicked. The stick man was preventing me from breathing, but it was also pushing against the arteries in my neck, and I knew that if it continued much longer, I wouldn’t have to worry about a lack of oxygen to my lungs.

I’d have no oxygen to my brain.

My vision was swimming when I pulled back just enough to loosen its grasp. My heart was hammering in my chest and my ears were ringing, but blood rushed to my head for a second and my vision cleared.

Chester held Jodie against the kitchen cabinet next to the sink. He grabbed Jodie by the arm, removed a kitchen knife from a wooden block next to the sink, and was busily trying to put it to Jodie’s neck.

Jodie struggled, kicking and biting at Chester, but the big man simply overpowered her. His mouth was stretched back in a crazy leer and his face was practically glowing. He clearly enjoyed her struggle. The knife was long and thin, more of a boning knife, and he stabbed the point into Jodie’s shoulder.

When she screamed, Chester looked euphoric.

It stirred an anger in me and I pushed against the stick man, but the golem was stronger and it clamped back down on my neck.

My vision swam again and I tried to kick the stick man. It was like kicking a tree stump, for all the good it accomplished. I was getting lightheaded and black spots appeared before my eyes. I saw Chester stab at Jodie’s face, leaving a bloody gash in her cheek.

She turned to look at me and whispered something, then Chester was slashing at her face and she was screaming and screaming.

I was desperate to break free. My head felt like it was going to explode and there was a roaring in my ears. I batted at the stick man, but my energy was fading. The last thing I saw before everything went black was the stick man’s giant eyes, its rectangular pupils like two black slits staring into an unyielding abyss.

* * *

The darkness was absolute.

There was neither sound nor shape nor form. It was both peaceful and terrifying, and it went on for an eternity.

I heard a little girl’s voice in the void. The words were unrecognizable, but it was the tone more than anything that stabbed at my heart. The girl was terrified. For me.

Something nagged at me, something that my mind couldn’t quite work around. Father Jameson said that humans have free will.

What did that truly mean? And, more importantly, why did it matter? Clearly I was somewhere else.

Nothing really matters anymore, does it?

Except…

Free will. What a funny thing.

I’d never really considered it before. Jameson said that free will was something that separated us from demons.

The attack in the diner had changed my life. What decisions had I made since? Jack had pushed me to follow in his footsteps, but he’d been manipulating me, both by words and by mental pushes from the vampire essence he had absorbed over the years.

Jack had left me everything he owned, a small fortune in silver and gold, and urged me to settle down, finally free of Silas Harlan.

Instead, I’d followed in Jack’s footsteps and almost died in Marshalltown as a result.

Was it really my decision? Was I still suffering from a lingering desire to please him? Was it Jack’s influence?

Inside me burned the essence of Jimmy Munzinger, my first vampire kill. I’d staked him on the floor of my house in Arcanum. He wasn’t my last. I’d killed Silas, too, after Jack had tortured him with silver, slashing away at him like a maddened butcher. I’d killed Jack, too, after he’d changed.

I’d killed my wife. My daughter.

I’d killed Ignacio Santiago, finally, in Marshalltown, after I’d lost almost the entire Mendoza family.

I’d killed the vampire Jodie’s coven had captured.

It wasn’t as many kills as Jack, but I carried each within me, an insatiable hunger that gnawed and burned and was still changing me.

That was before I died, strangled by an animated bundle of sticks.

What a shitty way to go.

Jodie had whispered something to me before the world went black.

What was it? What did she say?

It seemed important. I searched my memory until the word came to me.

Rise.

That simple command took hold in my mind as the vampire essence flooded through me.

The blackness pressed against me, offering to take away my remaining thoughts, but I could have sworn I heard an old man’s voice telling me to get it done.

No. I have free will. I’m going to survive this. I’m going to save Callie and I’m going to kill Carlton Meriwether.

The more I thought about it, the stronger I felt, until I opened my eyes and saw the stick man still throttling me.

Only seconds had passed and the thing was still trying to kill me, but I felt a rush of strength and broke free of it.

I screamed incoherently, and Chester turned to glare at me as I broke the stick man’s arms with a crack, and then the stick man was scrabbling to get away from me.

The thing hardly had time to move before I rushed it and grabbed for the heart at its center, tearing away branches in a frantic bid to reach the magic animating it.

The stick man’s head jerked back and forth and it fell against the wooden floor. When it did, it exposed the heart and I took the opportunity to squash it so hard with my boot that blood and viscera exploded across the floor, soaking the leg of my blue jeans in crimson goo.