Vesik 3 Winter's Demon (11 page)

“Let’s move, out the back,” I said.

Mike nodded and we headed down the hallway to the back door.

I heard the click behind us and instinct took over.

“Impadda!”
I said as I pushed myself in front of Mike. The shield’s glassy surface sprang to life between us and our would-be assassin. A hail of bullets shredded the walls around us. Puffs of ancient dust clouded the air and choked us as the walls took the brunt of the attack. Explosions of electric blue lightning sprang from the shield when some of the bullets found their targets. I could see our attacker plainly as he continued firing. Each round sent a yellow-orange burst of flame into the night. As soon as the clip ran out, I dropped the shield and blew his fucking head off.

I slammed an extra round into the pepperbox. “Don’t know what the hell I was thinking, Sam. Almost forgot who we were dealing with.” The kah-chunk of a shotgun pump whispered through the wall.

“Step aside please,” Mike said as he ushered Sam away from the door. He took one small hop and kicked the top of the door. Hard. The heavy steel door clanged as the hinges snapped out of the wall and flattened whoever was behind it. The end of a shotgun barrel was sticking out the side of the fallen metal along with an unattractive mush.

Mike drew the hammer from his belt. “These are pawns. They’re fishing for our positions. Let’s move.”

A flash of lightning burst through the trees to the southwest along the river. Branches shattered and burned as a focused spiral of flame blossomed in response. The ring of steel on steel echoed through the thunder and fire.

I felt a shift in the ley lines before I saw the necromancer. He appeared in a burst of black smoke near a clearing to the southwest, arm extended and a snarl on his lips. Zachariah.

“Tyranno Eversiotto!”
Lightning stormed from his hand, burrowing into the ground in arcing blasts. It cast debris up between us and obscured our view.

“Impadda!”
The incantation sprang up and Zachariah’s spell landed a glancing blow. It knocked me back a few steps and my shield flickered as a burst of ozone filled my nostrils, joining the heavy scent of burnt gunpowder.

I caught movement in my peripheral vision. Something weaved slowly through a copse of trees near Zachariah, but my eyes were all for the necromancer.

“Zombies!” Sam shouted as she blurred into motion. She took two down before I could even respond. I focused my Sight and could see the lines of power leading back up to Zachariah. Christ, he’d cast a spell that strong while animating twelve zombies?

No hesitation. Mike moved toward the necromancer. I pulled the hilt of the focus out of my belt and channeled an aural blade through it. My vision dimmed for a moment as my aura was ripped through the focus and blazed into a pulsing red blade, but all I needed was momentum. The slash cut through Zachariah’s necromancy.

He stumbled backwards as Mike leapt into the air. The Smith’s Hammer exploded in his hands, coming to life as an enormous war hammer. Flames licked the dual-headed weapon and Mike brought it down hard.

Zachariah threw himself backwards with a shout and vanished in another burst of black smoke. Mike’s hammer was embedded a foot into the ground. He jerked it out of the dirt and slipped back inside the guest house as his eyes scanned the shadows around us.

The far-off crack of gunfire echoed in the darkness. Then nothing.

CHAPTER TEN

“T
here’s no way this is over,” I said.

Mike nodded his agreement. “Give it time. Wait for a message, or an attack.”

We stayed there in the edge of the shadows, Sam barely breathing behind my right shoulder. I wiped the sweat from my palm and squeezed the trigger guard on the pepperbox.

Minutes passed before I spotted one of the fairies moving in the trees to the south. As the figure swooped down toward us a moment later, I could see it was Foster. Blood saturated his face and the front of his armor. It was starting to dry, but still shone in the moonlight. The grin told me it wasn’t anyone we’d miss.

“Edgar’s calling us back to the house. He doesn’t think they expected this level of resistance.”

“Where’s he been?” I asked.

“Two necromancers attacked them,” Foster said. “We helped.” His smile was terrible.

“Dead?” Sam asked.

Foster nodded. “Zola incinerated one of them.”

“Philip?” I asked.

Foster shook his head. “Edgar saw what you did to the mercenary who killed Mindy,” he said as he landed on Sam’s shoulder. “He may never thank you for it, but I know he appreciates it.”

“Don’t get that on my parka,” Sam said with a sideways glance at Foster.

Foster wiped his face and started to lean forward with a glob of blood on his hand.

“Dammit, bug!” Sam growled.

The fairy burst into laughter and fluttered over to Mike’s shoulder.

“Did we only lose one?” Mike asked.

“So far,” Foster said. “But the battle hasn’t really started, has it?”

Mike shook his head. “Let’s move back to the house.”

The demon turned and led us back to the hollow doorway at the front of the guest house. Foster flew out and waved us over once he thought it was clear. We ran, hunched low to the ground, with our boots and shoes crunching on the gravel until we hit the wooden steps with a rhythmic series of thumps.

For a moment I questioned the intelligence of walking back in through the front door. Then a vertical bar of yellow light appeared as the heavy walnut door cracked open and we slipped in, joining our allies, who were spread between the hall and the living room. I nodded to the innkeeper as we walked by. Aideen was on the grand piano in her small form. She had her chainmail armor across her lap, carefully cleaning blood from it with a needle and thread. Each run through the loops dyed the white thread with blood. Zola had a hand on Edgar’s shoulder as he sat on the bench.

“You couldn’t have done a thing,” my master said, her old world New Orleans accent in full swing after the adrenaline rush of the fight.

“You know that’s not true,” Edgar whispered. “We’ve lost so many. If I’d just let it go, if I just—”

“Hush, it is done.”

He nodded and looked up at the rest of the room. Vassili stood nearby, beside an ornately carved marble fireplace. He picked up an old fireplace poker and eyed the handle. A small smile flitted over his face before he set it down. Dad sat in a chair beside Vassili. Dad nodded and I returned the gesture.

“Nice shooting?” I said dryly.

“Quite so chap,” he said, just as dryly.

The large Watcher standing beside him exhaled loudly.

“Sorry about Mindy,” I said.

He cocked his head to the side and then looked away. Either he didn’t give a crap about Mindy, or he really didn’t like me. Or maybe both.

At the same time I realized who the wall of muscle standing next to him was, Sam squealed.

“Dominic!” The hug would have crushed any mortal man. And the thump he gave her on the back would have crushed any mortal woman.

Dominic was a monster, one of the Pit’s enforcers, and he was hella handy when shit went bad. He was still sporting an ultra-short blond crew cut. His eyes were black as pitch in the orange light, even though I knew they were a dark brown.

Once Sam released him, I extended my arm and traded grips.

“Good to see you, Damian.”

“You too, Dom,” I gritted out in mild agony.

He raised his eyebrows, glanced at my arm, and said, “Oh, sorry. Sometimes I forget. After all, you survived your sister.”

“So far,” I said as I rubbed my arm.

Mike had no such issues. He smacked Dominic on the back hard enough to send him stumbling forward three steps.

“Good to see you, Smith,” the vampire said as he extended his arm. They shook hands like we had, hands to elbows.

“We should meet on better terms some day,” Mike said. “Haven’t seen you since the battle with Prosperine.”

“Hardly a battle,” Dominic said. “Damian chewed her up and spit her out, and all he had to fight with was a shiny toothpick.”

Zola snorted and Edgar seemed to be making an effort not to listen.

For a moment, I thought I felt the other Watcher staring at me. When I looked up, his focus was on Edgar, but his lips were in a tight line.

Edgar stood up and all the attention in the room trailed to him. Even Vassili seemed to be respecting the Watcher, which made me curious if nothing else. Vassili had been around a long, long time, which made him patient, calculating, and utterly terrifying. But he was damn good at making you forget all three. His motivations were beyond me.

“I don’t think they’ll come at us again tonight,” Edgar said. “The resistance they met had to be more than expected. They may come at dawn, when the vampires will be weakest, or they may come tomorrow night when the darkest arts will be strongest. We have scouts out now. Cassie and Cara are in the woods and Vassili has two vampires on the roof. We sleep in shifts—”

Damian!
My head snapped up and I looked around. Nothing was there, but I’d heard the shout.

“Did uh, did anyone else hear that?” I asked.

“Don’t schiz out on us now,” Sam said.

“—I want four scouts awake at all times,” Edgar said, ignoring my interruption and drawing my attention back to his strategies.

Most of the group nodded or grunted in agreement.

“I know it’s unlikely so soon after a battle, but let’s try to get some rest.”

We mingled briefly and said our goodbyes for the night before Sam, Dad, and I started up the stairs.

“This is crazy,” Dad said. “This is your job?”

Sam and I glanced at each other. I wasn’t sure if he meant me, or her, or both.

“My other job’s a bit stranger,” I said.

“The store?”

I shook my head. “Genealogy.”

“Genealo-what?!” Dad said. “Are you joking?”

Sam laughed softly. “It’s more than he makes it out to be, Dad. He talks to ghosts, ancestors of living families. He helps them confirm rumors or family secrets.”

“And occasionally I just plug some holes in a family tree.”

“And they believe you?” Dad said as we approached the staircase to the third floor.

I grinned. “It takes a special sort.”

Sam reached out and hugged Dad. I did the same.

“We’ll see you soon,” she said.

Dad nodded and closed the door to his room behind him.

“You didn’t tell him about Koda,” Sam said.

“Tell him about my friendly neighborhood ghost that likes to help assemble family trees when he’s not researching forbidden magic and the history of demon-kind?”

Sam put on an impressive scowl.

“No,” I said. “I didn’t.”

“I’m so not getting any sleep,” Sam said as we climbed the stairs again.

“I hear you. Maybe I’ll try out the whirlpool tub.”

“Bastard,” Sam muttered.

“I beg to differ. I believe we just parted ways with my father.”

She snorted a laugh and started down the hallway on the third floor as Foster and Aideen swooped past us.

“You want to share some of that sweet whirlpool action?” Foster asked.

“Eh, sure,” I said.

Sam scooped me up in a hug and it felt like my ribs were shattering. “Urck!” I squeaked.

“Goodnight, Demon,” She said as she let me go and walked over to her door. “Don’t scar him too bad Foster. He’s delicate.” She sounded out each syllable as though she was talking to a child. The lock clicked and the ancient wood swung into the room as Sam disappeared in a muffled fit of giggling.

“I think she’s adopted,” I said as I padded down to my room, the Nile, and just like Sam’s room, the locks clicked and the door swung in.

“Okay,” I said. “I admit that’s a little creepy.”

Foster and Aideen glided into the dark room. I flipped the lights on and strolled over to the bathroom.

“Remember the Roman bath houses?” Aideen asked as she settled on the back of the sink.

Foster nodded. “I still think Greece was better.”

“My favorite was the Onsen in Japan,” Aideen said. “Hot springs in the outdoors, there is nothing like it.”

“I’ve never been to Japan,” I said. “Hell, I’ve never even been to Canada.”

“You should go to Japan some time,” Aideen said with a smile. “It is a beautiful place with a rich history.”

“Now you’re making it sound boring,” Foster said.

I chuckled, leaned over, and turned the water on with the modern brass handles on the tub. It was huge, and it was going to take a while to fill. I dropped the drain cover and stood up.

“You two want to get the blood off in the sink?”

“Way ahead of you,” Foster said as he leaned against the faucet handles to start the water flowing. He kicked the little white rubber stopper into the sink and jumped in after it to position it over the drain.

“I’ll leave you alone for a bit,” I said as I added a healthy dose of bubble bath to the tub. I stepped out of the room and started to close the door.

“Leave it open,” Foster said. “I don’t think the exhaust fan is going to keep up with the steam.”

I frowned slightly, started to say something about steamy fairies, and then thought better of it.

I slid my black boots off and hung my holster on the chair by the vanity. My shirt followed, covering the pepperbox and focus. I rolled up the black leather belt with the bulky gray buckle and set it on the vanity.

I had one leg out of my pants and boxers and was balancing to pull them off the other foot when something flickered beside me.

“Damian!” the shout was deep and booming.

I squealed like a teenage girl and fell over sideways. Foster and Aideen streaked into the room, quite literally, with swords drawn.

My eyes glanced past Foster, though I still noticed the man looked like he’d been chiseled from marble, and fell on Aideen.

I couldn’t help but stare at Aideen, even though she was still small. She was pale, like Nixie, and everything was perky. Oh my god, did I ever miss Nixie.

I didn’t know how much longer Nixie would be away. How long
does
it take to incite a revolution among immortal water Fae?