Vesik 3 Winter's Demon (14 page)

“I want to kill him.” My sister leaned down and her fangs flicked out. Her voice fell to a dark place. “I will kill him.”

“Not yet,” Mike said, as if there was no question Sam would eventually kill him.

The man’s eyelids flickered.

“Do it,” Zola said.

I nodded and set the edge of my staff in the faint circle we’d carved around him, my fingers wrapped around the smooth gray Magrassnetto inlays.
“Orbis Tego.”

The man’s eyes snapped open as his body was completely cut off from the ley lines, his necromancy confined to a simple circle shield. His dark eyes flicked from me, and then to Sam before they finally settled on Zola. The sheer terror that took root in those eyes told me he knew who she was.

“Killing me now?” he asked, blood weeping through his closed teeth as he struggled not to move his broken jaw.

“You should be so lucky,” Zola said as she placed her hand on Mike’s shoulder. “This is a demon of the ancient circle.”

The man almost whimpered.

“But he would not dare cross the vampire beside you. Understand this, you kidnapped her mother.”

“Oh god,” the man whispered as he began to hyperventilate. Blood ran from the corners of his mouth.

“Tell us what we want to know,” Mike said. “Where is the woman you took?”

“I didn’t!” the man said. He winced, and almost reached up to touch his swelling jaw. “I didn’t take her!” He was getting harder to understand.

“You didn’t stop them,” Sam whispered. “They came into our home. They tried to kill me. Tried to kill our parents.” Her eyes glazed over into black pits. “Drop the shield, brother mine.”

The man’s eyes locked on me and his whisper was almost a cry. “Vesik? Oh, god help me. God help me!” I couldn’t tell if his muffled scream was from the pain, or his increased understanding of his situation.

I let the shield fall. Sam ripped the pinky off his left hand and lanced the severed digit with her fangs.

It took a second for the man to realize what had happened, for his body to tell him pieces were missing, and then he screamed. Blood flowed from his shattered jaw, and the scream rose in pitch. Some part of me, some small part, felt a pang of sympathy for the bastard. The rest of me knew he wouldn’t suffer long.

Sam spat the finger onto the ground, a thin line of blood leaking down her chin. “You’re tasty.”

“Where’s our mother?” I asked.

“I can’t tell you! I don’t know!”

“That’s two different answers,” I said as I held his gaze. His beady eyes reminded me of Philip, reminded me of the man who took our mother. “Sam.”

Two more fingers came off. The slurping sounds were enough to churn my stomach, and the thin arterial spray didn’t help.

Mike leaned down to the bloody stumps. “Can’t have you bleed to death.” He cupped his hand and a bloody orange flame burst into existence, consuming the necromancer’s hand down to the wrist. “There now, all better.”

The screams of agony cut off into hiccups of shock.

“Where?” Zola said as she laid her cane against the man’s eye. “Ah’m not nearly so kind as my students.” The promise in her voice sent shivers down my spine.

“Chesterfield, Chesterfield Mall.”

“Is Ezekiel here?” Zola asked.

“We do not speak his name!” he said as his eyes rolled wildly from one side to the other.

“When is Philip coming?”

“I don’t know.” I could barely understand him now. Between the blood and his broken jaw, it was like he had a mouthful of marbles. “I don’t know.”

“It will be soon,” Zola said as she lifted her cane. “He’ll know we have you. We’re done here.”

Sam grabbed his head and bit into his throat in the blink of an eye. He flailed uselessly for a few seconds and then Sam ripped his throat out in one vicious strike. She bent his neck back further and drank again from the gaping maw.

I watched his aura fade into a flowing, black-and-white ribbon. It no longer pulsed and shifted like a living aura. It traveled around his body in the slow rhythm of the dead. A white mist formed from the snow behind the corpse, and a moment later Carter stood beside the dead man. Carter reached out and grabbed the aura. The entire ribbon exploded in golden light and the necromancer’s ghost was suddenly standing in the werewolf’s grip.

“No! What is this?” The ghost was screaming, utterly hysterical. “No! You already killed me!”

Carter’s lips peeled back. “You hurt our family. Those under the protection of our pack. I’m here to escort you to hell. Mike,” he said with a nod to the demon.

The demon’s hand stuttered and seized in a complex series of movements before a sickly orange flame leapt from his palm and swelled into a pillar of fire. When the flames died, the ghosts were gone. Mike’s arm lowered slowly as he heaved a series of deep breaths.

My aura felt heavy, dirty, like some great filth had crawled across it and nothing would ever wash it clean again. An acrid stench hung in the air. “What was that?” I asked.

“Hellfire,” Zola said. “A portal for some, a death sentence for others.”

I shivered, just a little, before I changed the topic. “Chesterfield Mall,” I said. Nothing good had happened there for me in the recent past. I had fond childhood memories of time spent in the arcades and food court when I wasn’t training with Zola, but now all those memories were tainted by Vicky.

The murdered child. The rising Guardian. The unstoppable harrower.

I ground my teeth together.

“We need to get to that mall,” Sam said as she wiped her mouth on the dead necromancer’s cloak.

“We can’t leave yet,” I said.

“What?” Sam stood up. “Are you crazy? We know where she is!”

“The boy is right,” Zola said. “We need you here to protect the Blessing. A battle comes soon. It’s finally time Philip met his doom.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “That’s … it’s not going to be easy.”

“It should never be easy to kill someone you once loved.” Zola rapped her cane on the dead man’s head. “Strap this one up on the tree stump,” she said as she pointed to a massive y-shaped stump. “Let Philip and his cult know we’re ready.”

“I’ll do it,” Mike said as he pulled a length of rope from between the porch railing supports. He dragged the body by the ankle to the old stump. I watched him for a bit, tying a limb up and securing it with one hand before he moved on to the next.

“Why was there rope on the porch?” I asked, but the thought left me as I watched Mike work. “Looks like you’ve done that before.”

Mike glanced up, but said nothing.

“Cheery thought,” Sam said. Her face was pulled into a scowl. She wasn’t happy about waiting to get Mom. I wasn’t happy about it either, but I didn’t want to get everyone killed by leaving. That would punch a hole in the defenses at Rivercene. A big hole.

“Bloody hell,” I said.

Zola looked away from Mike and up at me. “What?”

“Do you think Philip planted him? Tried to get some of us to leave and chase after Mom?”

“It would be a strong ploy.” Her gnarled fingers wrapped tightly around her cane and squeezed. “It seems possible.”

“Seems likely,” Mike said as he rejoined us. “That man was fodder and Philip damn well knew it. What now? Wake the others?”

Zola shook her head. “Give them another hour to rest. Then we wake Edgar.”

Mike nodded. “Give Vassili and the first watch time to rest while we plan.”

“Yes,” Zola said.

“Zola, why don’t we move our cars over to that cornfield?” I asked as I pointed off to the east. “I think they’ll be less likely to get scratched.”

“Scratched?’ she said with a snort. “If all they got was scratched, Ah would count myself lucky. Let’s go.”

***

We stood outside as evening approached, well fed by another of the innkeeper’s meals and bundled up with gloves, scarves, and coats.

Edgar stared at the man strung up on the ancient tree stump. It was odd to see Edgar in a trench coat in addition to his suit. “I thought I knew all of them, but him I do not recognize. Volund, Zachariah, Jamin, Smith, Cutter, Lensher. Who were you?” he said as he reached toward the body. His hand stopped and he rubbed his fingers together. “Hellfire?”

“Yes,” Mike said. “He had an appointment to keep.”

Edgar sighed. “You risk too much in the open.”

“Come now, Amon,” Zola said. “We are hidden quite well here.”

He looked at Zola and gave her a half-hearted grimace. “Still.”

“I doubt you will be so concerned when they come for your head,” Mike said.

“We shall see,” Edgar said. “You’ve made quite a signpost for them. I rather doubt they’ll try to scout us anymore. It’s more likely their entire group will come at us at once.”

“When?” Foster asked from his perch beside Aideen on my shoulder. The snow was beginning to pick up, leaving a thin layer of white across the grass.

“Twilight or nightfall, if they have a blood mage.” Edgar turned toward the river and tensed. He relaxed a moment later. Apparently whatever had spooked him was gone. “The darker arts of the blood are stronger then.”

“How did you learn anything of the blood magi?” Zola said. “They are more secretive than us.”

“They are more taboo than you,” Cara said from Sam’s pocket. Cassie nodded her agreement beside her.

“Pots and cauldrons,” Edgar said. “We have a blood mage in the Watchers now.”

“Things do change,” Mike said.

Edgar’s sandy face pulled up in a small smile. “Yes, they do at that. Not long ago we would have killed a blood mage on sight.”

“There was a time you’d have done the same to a necromancer,” Zola said.

Edgar looked away, his eyes angled up toward the trees before he nodded. “That was our mistake, my friends. Judging an entire people for the actions of a few was wrong. Even a demon can be a good man if he is so inclined.”

I didn’t miss the smile on Mike’s face.

Edgar. Watcher. Friend? Maybe the world really was ending.

The front door slammed and Dad walked out onto the porch. He hadn’t taken the news well when we told him we knew where Mom was, but weren’t yet going to get her. He’d finally calmed down when he smashed a very expensive vase, scattering the pieces across the hardwood. The innkeeper had muttered something about touchy humans and then vanished down the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right, Zola. Andi would never forgive me if I left our friends to die.” He adjusted the strap over his shoulder, the whaling gun swinging out past his hip as he turned.

“Do not apologize,” Zola said. “Ah know it doesn’t compare to your own, but this is not an easy decision for any of us.”

“What’s the plan?” Dad asked.

Dominic appeared beside Edgar, a thin trail of snowflakes filling the void he left behind him. “Lord!” he shouted.

“Da?”
Vassili said from the edge of the roof.

Dominic nodded.

The white-haired vampire leapt from the top of the three-story mansion and came down hard enough to crack one of the flagstones. He blinked and shifted his foot to the side. “I shall pay for that. I do not wish to anger the innkeeper further.”

Dad’s eyes flicked to the side and he scuffed his shoe through the snow. I stifled a laugh.

“They are coming,” Dominic said. “A large force moves in from the west. At least fifteen necromancers, each controlling several zombies.

“Fifteen,” Edgar said. “That’s half of Philip’s cult.”

Vik jogged up behind us. “Volund and Zachariah come from the east and north. Each has ten necromancers in tow, nearly a horde of zombies between the two. Some are moving fast. I’m afraid they may have vampiric zombies too.”

I cursed. “I hate those things.”

“Is Ezekiel with them?” Zola asked.

“No, I didn’t see anyone else with a complexion like Edgar’s.”

“That’s how you told them to recognize Ezekiel?” Edgar said with a laugh.

Zola shrugged.

The big Watcher with the bowler joined us, floating in from the northwest. “Edgar, this is madness. You cannot hope to oppose Philip’s army with this rabble.”

“James,” Edgar said as he shook his head. “You haven’t seen how big a mess this rabble can make.”

“James?” I said. “I guess I don’t have to call you Bowler.”

James spared me a glance and then turned his attention back to Edgar. “Orders?”

“You’ll push ahead with me,” Edgar said. “We’ll handle the western front. Cara, it would please me to fight with you.”

“You will fight with us all,” Foster said.

Edgar nodded. “Take up positions in the trees. Stay hidden until the necromancers can be put down. Mike, Damian, Zola, take the north and eastern fronts. We will join you as soon as we inflict significant casualties on our front.

“Vassili, divide your people as you see fit.”

“Sam, roof,” Vassili said as he pointed to the mansion. “Dominic, the roof of the guest house. Vik, stay on Damian.” Vik nodded and took a step towards me. “I will help who needs it.”

“And me?” Dad asked.

“What can you do against this?” James said. “This is no fight for a commoner.”

Dad dropped a bomb lance into the barrel of his cannon, flicked the ramrod out, rammed the lance home, and slid the ramrod back in place in a series of quick motions.

“They took my wife. They violated my home, threatened my children. I’ll go through you to get to them.”

James’s eyes widened and he took a step back.

I caught the hint of a smile on Edgar’s face.

“I would recommend the roof,” Vassili said. “You will have excellent view of targets.”

We heard the moans first as the zombies grew closer. The unnatural groans and grunts of the undead began to filter through the distance.

“Move,” Edgar said. “We’re out of time.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

T
hey struck when the dying sun set the skies on fire, turning snow to cinders on a canvas of silhouetted branches.

“Now it begins,” Mike said as he pulled the hammer from his belt.

Shadows snarled and leapt as fire and lightning struck all across the roof. The dim flash of fairies growing and shrinking, slashing and blocking, danced across the back-lit structure.