The Last Slayer (22 page)

My torso and heart suddenly felt like there were hot lumps of coal inside, burning through. I inhaled and inhaled, helpless to stop. It was as if my entire body struggled to expand against a tight iron corset. I thought for a moment I’d gotten the words wrong. My rib cage felt like it would snap.

My right palm ripped and a long sword shot out through the skin. Somehow it didn’t hurt. My blood stained the bright rubies, sapphires and emeralds on the hilt. Nahemah’s eyes sharpened at the sight of the weapon.

Gripping the sword tightly, I walked around the table. The cut on my palm closed immediately, the blood congealing into a hard sticky frosting around the jeweled pommel. I finally exhaled. My body didn’t hurt anymore now that the blade was out. Leh’s heartstone pulsated inside me and adrenaline flooded into my bloodstream. The effects of the wine vanished abruptly; everything seemed brighter and sharper than usual.

Ramiel finally deigned to give me a cursory glance. Something was definitely wrong with the way he looked at me. And the way he smelled, with an odd undertone of decaying rose petals…and the way his magic surrounded him, like rancid oil trying to mix with water—with my extra sensitivity I could tell that all his emanations were off.

Everything about his presence reminded me of rotten fruit. And with that came a conviction that my instinct was right.

I thrust at his stomach. It wouldn’t have been fast enough to hurt Ramiel—the real one, that is—but it was quick enough to skewer most lesser supernaturals.

He didn’t even have a chance to gasp. The blade entered his flesh even as the lilith rolled away screaming. He gripped the naked blade, cutting his palms. His eyes widened at the sight of the blood flowing from his belly and finally met mine.

Eyes the color of rivets.

“Son of a bitch.” I stepped back, pulling my sword out as I did. I turned to Nahemah. “What the hell is going on?”

She rose from her seat, her face as smooth and blank as a doll’s. “What did you have to do that for?” She sighed. “Now it’s going to be messy.”

Fear began knotting my stomach, and the food I’d eaten protested. Still I held my position. “Where’s Ramiel?”

She shrugged. “Enjoying his dinner, I’m sure. If he’d known what kind of a barbarian you are, he would never have associated with you, regardless of his vow to Leh. My, my, look what you’ve done to my poor servant.”

She walked toward her dying samael and shoved him to the floor. Gasping, he fell forward. He still had Ramiel’s face and body. Blood spilled across the marble, the odor of stomach contents mixing with the aroma of food. I did my best not to gag. If the chorus and harpists could continue to perform as if nothing had happened, I could damn well act like this was par for the course too.

Nahemah inspected the méridienne. “It’s going to be such a chore to get the stain out of the cushions. Oh well. Not my responsibility.”

“What do you
want?”

She rolled her eyes. “Dinner. With you, of course. I thought having a Ramiel look-alike would make you feel more relaxed. I didn’t want the real one here glowering at me the whole time. He can be so tedious. You would think someone who’s of impure line would be a little more fun. Less strict about formalities.”

“Impure line?”

“Didn’t he tell you? He’s a mongrel.” Nahemah’s lips twisted. “So righteous. So arrogant. So strict. As if he could erase the taint with his conduct.” She waved her hand at the samael on the floor and all the blood. “Now the banquet’s ruined. How can we possibly eat after such tragedy? That wasn’t very nice of you, Ashera.”

My name rolled from her tongue like an old hard candy, saccharine and sticky. I suppressed a shudder.

Nahemah took a step. Slowly and sensuously. Then two. Each languid movement of her hips brought her closer.

“When a dragonlady offers her help…” a step, “…provides such superb hospitality…” another step, “…she deserves something more…” a roll of her hips, “…than a gutted servant.” Still another step.

Instinct told me to retreat, but I forced myself to stand my ground. Any sign of fear would only embolden her. Now she stood close enough that I could smell roses and moon-milk on her.

She smiled at me. Then her left hand shot out like a cobra toward my heart, while a sword appeared gleaming in her right. It happened so fast, I was still in the middle of jumping backward when she swung.

I blocked her sword with mine. They met with a clang that hurt my ears and made my blood sing.

“What do you want? To give me to Nathanael?”

“Nathanael?” Her voice had changed, and now held a cruel edge of scorn. “I don’t care about him or his slayer slut. All that angst, all those wars, and for what? To give it all up for
her?”
In battle stance, she nonetheless regarded me with a hauteur only the immortals can pull off. “We’re only as good as our heartstones, my dear, and I want yours.”

For a woman who didn’t look particularly athletic, Nahemah wielded tremendous power. Her sword was slightly curved, single-edged and at least eight feet long. She controlled it as if it were a pen.

She gained on me, each swing and thrust surer than the one before. I mistimed a parry, and her blade cut through my dress and dug into my left rib. It burned like a hot poker. I gasped and scrambled sideways, then down before she could slice me in half. The whistle of her sword over my head chilled my blood. The narrow dress tangled around my legs. Shit.

I held her off as long as I could, positioning myself next to a column so that I only had to defend one side of my body. The liliths and samaels continued to sing and fan the room as if swordfights in the middle of dinner were quite common. Maybe they were. Nahemah hadn’t thought twice about killing India in front of her servants.

“If you hate me, why did you let me see Leh?” I asked through clenched teeth.

“Hate you? Silly girl. I couldn’t care less about you.” The distracted smile on her face made my throat clog with fear. “Think what I can do with a slayer’s heartstone, the same one Nathanael has. You were the only one who could get it for me.”

What the—

Nathanael and I both had heartstones from Leh?

I stepped on the hem of my dress, tripped and landed on my back. Nahemah seized the moment. Pinning my sword with a foot, she knelt on my chest. She reached up with her left hand, ready to plunge it into me. I balled my free hand into a fist and punched her in the ribs.

Nahemah screamed, which surprised me. With no leverage, I hadn’t hit her that hard.

She lunged backward, holding on to the stump of her left arm. The hand itself lay in a pool of blood on my stomach. Its fingers moved, trying to scuttle up to my chest. Horrified, I grabbed it and threw it. The fingers opened and closed as it flew through the air.

“Are you all right?”

Ramiel. The real one. Blood covered him from head to toe, ran from his sword. He smelled like death.

I’d never found him more wonderful.

I nodded, stood up. “Where have you been?”

“At a different banquet with an illusion of you.”

“How did you know it wasn’t me?”

His mouth quirked. “Too docile.”

Ramiel’s gaze focused on Nahemah, who was crouched, clutching her stump of a left arm. Pure loathing chiseled her features. Had I found her beautiful before? Now she terrified me more than any demon ever had. Such unholy hatred on a face so angelic.

Her severed hand slid along the floor, the long, perfectly lacquered crimson nails scrabbling for purchase on the smooth marble. It looked like a giant white five-legged spider, and I have extreme arachnophobia. Cold sweat dampened my palms.

It finally stopped, righted itself and came at me again, the nails making a horrible skittering sound. I bit my lower lip to prevent a scream.

When it got close, I punted it as hard as I could and grabbed my sword, determined to hack it to pieces if it came near me one more time. It spun in the air and landed on a platter of lobster meat. Food splattered the nearest samael.

Weston screamed and flew at me like a kamikaze hummingbird. He zipped past at thigh level and ripped a small gash in my leg. He would have been too fast for me before, but now I had a heartstone. The second time he passed, I shifted position and brought my sword down cleanly through his neck. The gossamer wings kept beating, taking the body out into the garden, while the tiny head bounced and rolled, coming to rest against Nahemah’s foot.

Ramiel moved between us. “I warned you.”

“Warned
me?”
She kicked Weston’s head away. “You are still in the Lunar Garden.”

“Not for much longer.”

“You don’t really think you’re leaving without a farewell party, do you?” She raised her voice. “Wyverns, drakes, wyrms!”

Ramiel whistled shrilly.

Nahemah’s dragons sprang forth with a roar from among the columns and the shadows of the garden. They advanced on us and the earth seemed to tremble in anticipation of the warm new blood that would soak it.

We were completely encircled, above, around and undoubtedly below, and I didn’t see how we could escape. Teleportation was out of question. Nahemah was the mistress of the Lunar Garden and had the power to block magical entry and departure from her dragonhold. A pair of Besade amphiteres hovered high in the sky over the wyverns of the Lunar Garden, but they couldn’t penetrate the hostiles’ formation.

Fantastic.

“Shield us.” Without waiting for my response, Ramiel drew in a breath and said,
“Draco perditio.”

What I had done—what I had thought of as
draco perditio
—was nothing compared to what he unleashed. A pale green shockwave of power radiated out in a sphere, bending the air and light, shriveling and destroying any dragon unfortunate enough to be within range. I’d heard of radiant offensive spells before, but only in theory—no mortal has enough power to perform them. My
draco perditio
had been no exception. It had been directed at only one target—Apollyon’s wyrm. What Ramiel did was of a different order of magnitude.

The shield I’d put up barely held as the creatures fell screaming with a series of loud
pop
s. They puckered and collapsed into desiccated softballs, their carcasses bouncing around and rolling. Some of the wyverns fled, managing to avoid death, but the slower ones lost trailing legs and tails and showered the ground with cold salty blood.

Nahemah paled under the crimson rivulets that ran down her face. Her right hand tightened around her sword. “Interfering mongrel! You’ll rue this day, I swear it!”

Ramiel stood like the demigod he was, magnificent, imperial, residual power still coming off him like a furnace. His lips twisted into a cruel smile. “You should’ve taken me more seriously, Oh Lady of the Pure Blood.”

Our amphiteres dropped swiftly through Nahemah’s stunned wyverns. I released our shield, and Ramiel and I hopped onto one each.

He saluted Nahemah, and as we rode into the night sky, a look of satisfaction was etched onto his face.

The cold wind enveloped us. I shivered and tightened my grip on my amphitere’s rein. Falling after our dramatic escape would be totally anticlimactic.

Once I felt stable, I looked back. Wyverns’ wings shimmered like waves of pearls below us. In an impressive show of bravery, they were giving chase despite Ramiel’s display of power earlier. Anything to please their mistress, I supposed.

“Can we outfly them?”

Ramiel glanced down at the flight of wyverns, which was slowly gaining on us. “Most likely not. But we shouldn’t engage them.” He looked at my still-bleeding rib. “Your wound wants healing, and your amphitere has never gone into battle before. She’s too young.”

“So…any clever plans? Maybe another
draco perditio?”

Our amphiteres squeaked and cried.

“Do you wish to fall?”

Oh yeah. “Can you target them individually?”

He shook his head. “There are too many.”

“Damn.” I was itching to incinerate a few wyverns myself, take my new heartstone for a test drive, so to speak, but it would have been foolish.

“Also we’re no longer within the Lunar Garden. I don’t want other dragonlords to pick up on another
draco perditio.”

“They can do that?”

“Of course. It’s a forbidden spell. We can feel its effect like an earth tremor. So as a rule we only use it under extreme circumstances.”

I looked back at the cloud of wyverns that was following us. “This isn’t an extreme circumstance?”

“Don’t worry. I shall find a way.”

Usually I didn’t rely on others. So-called “teamwork” just created problems. But I could feel a sea-change starting within me. Ramiel had saved me more than once, revealed his secrets to me, guided me as I made my stumbling way through the world of supernaturals. Somehow I felt that he would take care of the situation. Take care of me.

I straightened my shoulders, made a conscious decision to trust him, and we flew on silence. Ramiel closed his eyes and let his amphitere navigate. Mine followed. Despite her supposed passivity, her muscles were tense. I guess she wasn’t used to flying with a bunch of pissed-off wyverns after her.

Ahead, the sun began to reveal itself. Morning gold spilt over a sky of purple and orange. We passed from the Lunar Garden’s sphere of influence. In Besade, Toshi would have breakfast waiting. And maybe some Sex for both of us, provided that was how dragonlords recharged. Of course, we
could
have simply done the deed. Ramiel was able to somehow gather Sex and use it.

More wyverns appeared ahead, one o’clock high, coming toward us. I blinked at the sight. At this rate, we were going to be caught in a wyvern stew.

Ramiel still had his eyes closed, his hair streaming out behind him. Maybe he thought he was surfing off Malibu or something. His amphitere continued toward the new group of wyverns. Surely it knew what was coming toward us, right? It wasn’t—god forbid—blind, was it?

My hands grew clammy, and the wound on my rib burned. As the new formation drew close, their deep green scales reflected the sun, gleaming like emerald steel. Silver crests adorned their armor.

The lead wyvern hailed us as they fell in around our amphiteres. “My lord.”

Opening his eyes, Ramiel nodded. “Captain. You understand the situation?”

“Of course. It is my honor to serve you, my lord,” the wyvern said. “They shall perish this morning for what they’ve done.”

“This is not an open war. We want to keep it quiet.”

“I understand.” The captain bowed, a sinuous curve rippling down his neck like water down one of Lunar Garden’s terraced pools. He turned to his units and gave orders in one of the old dragon dialects. The wyverns roared, the sound deafening.

The wyverns wheeled in sequence, their underwings catching the sunlight in a viridescent display of military precision. They fell off to our rear as we continued on to Besade.

I glanced back. “Aren’t you going to lead them?”

“The captain is more than able to handle the matter. And it behooves me not to stay here longer than necessary.” I must have looked puzzled, because he added, “If I’m present during a battle, there will be questions. If I’m not, I can say it was a misunderstanding between two groups of wyverns.” He gave me a wry smile. “It’s the way of dragonlord politics. Inconvenient but necessary. And given what pacifists some dragonladies are, I don’t want them to hear about how I didn’t try to stop a skirmish.”

I nodded and looked back. The battle had been joined. Even at this distance, ferocious cries rent the air. Teeth and talons ripped into flesh, and blood sprayed the dawn sky. I shuddered at the scale of the carnage.

Up ahead, the sun was rising behind Besade. Its silhouette looked so welcoming, so safe after all that I’d gone through, I wanted to fall to my knees and savor the moment. We were alive. I had the heartstone. Soon I could get the antidote for Valerie.

When Ramiel hopped onto my amphitere and wrapped his arms around me, I sagged into him.

For once, it was nice to work with someone.

***

“Milady! Are you hurt?”

Toshi’s high-pitched shout brought my head up from Ramiel’s chest. I looked at the fairy dragon in surprise—we were still a ways out from Besade, but he didn’t seem to be having any trouble keeping up with the amphiteres—and he gawked at me in return.

“Lady…Ashera?” he said, his voice uncertain.

Ah. I forgot. “Yes, it’s me. It’s a new look.” I didn’t have the energy to tell him the entire story. Maybe later after I’d showered and gotten my wounds taken care of. And had a goblet of melon wine in my hand.

Toshi gave me a skeptical look and turned to Ramiel. “My lord?”

Ramiel nodded gravely. “It is indeed Lady Ashera.”

The spines running down Toshi’s back stood on end. “You—you look so…
different.”

“Thank you,” I said wryly. “I suppose that’s a compliment?”

“Well…yes. Of course. You’re more beautiful than before.” He stopped, then cleared his throat. “Not, ah, that you weren’t beautiful before.” Suddenly he shut his mouth and laid a foreclaw gently against my cheek. “You have blood here.” His body trembled. “Didn’t you meet the guards I sent? The other ones…did they hurt you?”

“It’s not my blood,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to cause him any undue worry. “Besides, I think Ramiel has more on him than me.”

“I, however, am not wounded. You are.” Ramiel looked at my rib and leg meaningfully.

No kidding. Now that the excitement had worn off and the adrenaline was gone, they throbbed like hell.

Toshi flew alongside, examining my injuries, his tongue darting out and back. The one on my torso wasn’t too deep, but it continued to ooze blue-black blood. “This is from Lady Nahemah’s blade.” He hissed. “She is no longer welcome in Besade. At least not by
me
.”

Ramiel landed our amphitere and stepped off. “The sentiment is most definitely shared.”

I pondered the irony of having a couple of supernaturals getting indignant on my behalf as he helped me off the dragon.

“I’ll have baths drawn immediately.” Toshi disappeared.

I took a deep breath and fidgeted with the torn sleeve of my dirty dress. Ramiel tried to run his fingers through his blood-caked hair and cursed when they got tangled.

“The samael you stabbed—” Ramiel began, then paused. “He was your friend.”

“What?” I couldn’t have heard that correctly. “Who?”

“The one who helped you with Valerie.”

“Andersen?” I shook my head. “That can’t be right. He’s a security expert. Besides, he’s old.”

“Not everyone desires eternal youth,” Ramiel said.

“But he looked nothing like…” I trailed off. He’d looked just like Ramiel. Except for his eye color, the one thing supernaturals can’t change. Eyes the color of rivets. How many people had eyes like those?

“Nahemah’s specialty is illusions.”

If Andersen had been Nahemah’s servant, then the demon I’d faced for my test had most likely been one of Nahemah’s underlings as well.

You are marked.

It made sense. That slimy crap on me…Ramiel had burned it off in my dream. And how Andersen had scowled at me the next morning. I’d thought he just hadn’t liked me, but what if there had been more to it?

But why had Nahemah been working alone? Or had she? Andersen hadn’t handed me over to Semangelaf at TriMedica, even though Nahemah supposedly wanted the demigod’s body. Was the whole thing some elaborate ruse to get Leh’s heartstone? Of course, at that point no one had been sure that I was Leh’s daughter…

Except Ramiel. Always, it came back to Ramiel.

“Do you think Andersen or Nahemah poisoned Valerie?” I said.

“With venom from Semangelaf’s wyrm?” He considered the idea. “Perhaps.”

I let that sink in and began to feel a sort of helpless anger. Damn it, I had been so sure of myself.

I hate being wrong, but a woman’s gotta own up to her mistakes. “You were right to warn me against Nahemah. I should’ve listened,” I said finally. “Thank you for your help.” I cleared my throat. “I guess I should clean up.”

He nodded gravely.

He could’ve given me a reply. Like “It’s okay” or something. Maybe I should’ve just been satisfied he wasn’t gloating. “All right then. I’ll see you later.”

I spun around and walked into the castle. Ms. Dramatic Exit. Then I realized I had no idea where I was going. The place was so big I needed a map. Where was Toshi when I needed him?

A bas-relief slayer above me smashed a wyrm and sent bits of rock spraying. A film of stone dust settled over me, and it didn’t even apologize. But then it couldn’t talk, only act. When I coughed rather loudly, they finally stopped their battle and stared at me.

Seconds ticked by.

They turned in unison and went back to fighting.

Toshi flew up just in time to witness the interior decorations’ impertinence toward his honored guest. “I’m so sorry, milady. Those…things…they’re terribly rude. I don’t know why His Lordship tolerates them.”

“Well.” I looked up at the bas-reliefs, engaged in some epic struggle, and pursed my lips. “I suppose it’s educational.”

“Only to the ignorant who refuse to study our history from books, as all
true
scholars do. In any case,” he said, somewhat archly, “they’ll pay for it later when they’re turned into dust and reborn into something else. Possibly deformed slayers.”

“Deformed slayers?”

“After each major historical battle, the entire bas-relief is reset for another event. Else we’d have too many bodies.”

That made sense. It wasn’t like stone could decay.

Toshi beamed toothily at me. “Your medicinal bath is ready, milady! And I have moved you to a special guestroom. I hope you approve.”

“I’m quite certain anything you provide will be exceptional.” I was getting the hang of this lord and lady talk.

Toshi led me to the new room. It was as big as my previous one and had more of the same lovely flowers. Crystal and pale gold provided the bulk of the decoration, giving it an air of opulence that rivaled Versailles. An angel bed with a canopy made of golden thread dominated the right corner of the room. It looked large enough for a whale.

But most striking were the mirrors. Every panel on the walls had them. They lined the ceiling and some of the furniture. Hundreds of my reflections shifted when I moved.

I’d avoided having a lot of mirrors in my condo. If they aren’t warded correctly, they’re good entry points for demons who know how to bypass thresholds. Besides, it wasn’t as if I had enjoyed staring at myself every time I glanced around the room. Now I didn’t even look like myself anymore. Hundreds of gorgeous clones seemed to be spying on me.

It was a little freaky.

I turned to Toshi. “What’s this room called?”

“This is the famous Chamber of Reflection.” He searched my face. “Do you not approve?”

“It’s quite…nice.”
If it weren’t for all those mouths moving in unison with mine.

He rose up into the air and touched some crystals. “These are diamonds of the first water. They should make you feel better. Diamonds are ladies’ best friends, are they not?”

Oh god. De Beers’ influence had reached even to Besade. And if all those chunks of crystal were actually diamonds, one chandelier alone was probably worth about fifty times more than my condo. Maybe more than the entire building my condo was in. “I guess that depends on the lady.”

Toshi’s foreclaws came together in front of his face. “Do you not like this room?” He began to tremble. “Is it unfit?”

“Not at all. I
love
this room.” I smiled at the poor fairy dragon. “Let me bathe, and then I’ll have breakfast.”

“As you wish.” He looked somewhat reassured. “I’ve added healing agents to the water, so your wound should be fine after your bath. Please soak for at least an hour, however. A cut from a dragonlady’s sword takes that much time.”

“Thank you.”

“As for your breakfast, would you like the famed Chicken of Tso again?”

I bit my lower lip to hide a grin. “No. Just scrambled eggs and sausage. And coffee with extra cream and sugar if you have any.”

“Yes, milady.” He made a little hovering bow and left.

A small folding screen hid the bathtub from the entryway. White rice paper stretched between rosewood struts, providing a bit of simple Asian elegance to the atmosphere. The tub was round, and large enough for me to submerge completely without bending my legs. This was one luxury I would definitely miss once I went back to northern Virginia. Maybe Toshi would want to tag along. I could use some domestic help. Probably couldn’t afford him, though. I looked up at the diamond chandeliers, feeling glum.

I discarded the ruined dress—so much for “You can keep what you wear to the banquet”—and stepped into the tub. The hot water fizzed and bubbled over my skin. The sensation was unfamiliar but nice, almost ticklish. Once seated, I undid the coil my hair was in. Charity had done an amazing job. It had held through my duel with Nahemah and an amphitere flight.