“Vampires?” Sam asked. “Why are they with Philip?”
“It’s likely not by choice,” Mike said.
“I’m going up,” Sam said as she gestured at the roof. “Get to the north side.”
“If things go wrong, get to the basement,” Mike said.
“What about the ‘Don’t go in the basement’ thing?” I said as I quoted the air with my fingers.
Mike looked at the sky and took a deep breath.
Sam’s lips quirked up in a tiny smile. “He’s just, well, you know.”
“I know,” Mike said with a chuckle. “Be careful, all of you.”
Sam nodded and blurred into motion.
Zola was out ahead of us, her cloak disappearing around the corner as Mike and I followed. I spared one last glance at Sam as she tore into someone on the roof before I turned and jogged away. Vik had gone on ahead. He should already be on the north side. I turned at the mansion’s southeast corner, right behind Mike. Vik and Zola were at the next corner, pointing off into the distance.
“—almost here,” Vik said as we approached.
The groaning and shuffling of the undead signaled their arrival on the northern and eastern fronts. My pepperbox practically leapt into my hand. Six shots, five zombies down. I cracked the gun open, dumped the shells, and slammed a speed loader home. My tactical vest was emblazoned with “Cub” and adorned with two dozen conveniently placed speed loaders. Even if I didn’t miss a shot, it wouldn’t be enough to take down the sea of zombies.
“Why aren’t there vampires here?” I asked as we started to fan out.
“They must be engaged with Vassili and the others,” Vik said. “Keep the trees between you and the necromancers.” I saw his hand move and drop the bronze amulet around his neck into his vest. His hand lashed out and a zombie’s head exploded. Vik took two steps back and looked at his fingers. “What in the name of?”
“What’s wrong?” Zola shouted as she baited a zombie toward me.
I raised my Sight, opening my senses to both worlds. The seething mass of undead was all tied to one man, maybe two, but something was different. The currents of necromancy weren’t dim and gray in my Sight. They burned with a brighter blue light, like a ley line. My eyebrows drew down in thought as I shot down four more zombies with six bullets. There wasn’t as much blood as there should have been. Too few chunks exploded from their overripe heads.
“Something’s wrong,” I said.
“Agreed,” Zola said. “They’re too slow.”
“There’s no blood on my hands,” Vik said as he tore another zombie in half.
Mike stepped forward and put his fist through one of the zombies. He stared at his own hand. “Vik’s right. It’s like they’re sawdust.”
The blazing trail of a bomb lance lit the night above us as it streamed from the mansion’s roof toward the heart of the oncoming force.
A fireball lit up the field and the bluish lines of power dissipated. Half the eastern front vanished in the blink of an eye. There was nothing. No trace of power, no substance, everything was just, gone.
“What the fuck?!” Mike said as he took a hesitant step back.
“It’s a ruse!” Zola said. “They’re a goddamn illusion. Find the mages, kill them.”
With that she bolted forward, running through zombies like they weren’t even there, because they weren’t really there. Bodies exploded and gore flashed into the air like each had been hit by a cannon shot every time we touched one, but nothing stuck to us, nothing slicked the ground beneath our feet.
I followed the lines toward the back of the horde. The bastards had to know we were on to them, but they didn’t make a move.
“Mike, red!” Vik shouted from off to my left. I caught the flicker of a dark red cloak as Mike moved.
The Smith’s Hammer blazed to life and came down with a thunderous crack. A bloody red cloak flapped at the edge of the fires that raged around the hammer. Another quarter of the zombies disappeared. The lines closest to me all drew in on one man. He stood with his eyes closed, his lips constantly moving, fueling the illusion. Waves of ley line energy pulsed out from his hands.
“Bloody hell, they’re fodder,” I said as Zola pulled up beside me.
“We still have to kill him. He could hide much within these illusions.”
I raised my gun and shot him in the head. He fell. His remaining eye stared blankly at the clouds above. Another huge swath of the horde vanished.
“If this entire front is a ruse, what the hell is coming at us on the other side?” I asked.
Zola muttered a string of curses. “Get back! Regroup at the house!”
Vik made a vicious twisting motion. There was a meaty snap and the last of the zombies vanished. The entire field of wandering undead was gone. Nothing but an icy breeze filled the area as we turned back to the house, the faint sounds of battle echoed around the mansion.
Another bomb lance streaked from the rooftop. I saw it strike in the distance as we came back to the front of the mansion. The blue flash of a shield falling was followed by a scream a moment before dirt and debris shot skyward in a shadowy fireball. Our feet pounded across the grass and flagstones as I watched a handful of zombies fall over near the guest house. Real, not an illusion.
Vassili was suddenly at my side, pacing us. “Vampire zombies,
da.”
He shouted a string of what I can only guess were curses. A patch of light near the mansion showed me the blood in Vassili’s hair, and the deep gash below his right eye. “Hurry my friends. We are strong, but they are many.” With that, he blurred into motion, racing toward the nearby silos off to the west.
“Vampiric zombies?” I said to Zola.
“Christ, puppets again?” Vik said.
Zola shook her head, her wrinkled body keeping pace with us just fine. “No, not puppets. There are true necromancers here. Not a demon …” Her voice trailed off and Mike cursed.
“That’s the ruse,” the demon said. “That’s the goddamned ruse, they’re going after the mass grave. It’s on the other side of town.”
“Let’s get back to the cars,” I said as I started to slow. Zola grabbed my arm and pulled me into a run.
“No, boy, we have to clear the grounds.”
“Some of us should go ahead,” Vik said.
“No! Use your addlepated brain, vampire! That’s what he wants. To separate us.”
“Pick us off in small groups,” Mike said.
“Bloody hell,” I said as I drew in deeper breaths of icy air. “He planned this too well.”
A huge spread of black and gray wings came running at us. Shadowed stretches of blood were smeared across them, and splashes fell in runnels from Foster’s shoulders to his feet.
“Zola, this is too complex for Philip,” Foster said. “He’s never sacrificed this many men before.”
“Pilot Knob,” she said.
Recollections of that damned town floated back to the surface of my memory as I ran. The entire population had been murdered and set to rise, a trap for anyone seeking Philip’s implements. He’d hidden a document describing a key of the dead, and a Magrasnetto sheet Cara had used to create two dark bottles, inside an ancient book. Philip had brought the demon Prosperine onto our plane using soul in a trapped in those very dark bottles. The demon killed Carter and Maggie. I killed the demon.
Carter.
I thought the name. “Carter!” I said out loud.
The wolf was there in moments. I couldn’t help the relief that flooded me.
“Think of something useful for us to do?” he asked with only a mild hint of impatience.
“The graveyard on the other side of town,” I said.
“We think Philip is going to raise another demon,” Mike said.
Any trace of irritation fell away from Carter’s voice. “What can we do?”
“We’ll be there as fast as we can, but scout it out, see what’s happening,” I said.
He nodded.
“Be careful, Wolf,” Zola said. “These men are not to be trifled with.”
Carter nodded and vanished.
“Unnerving,” Vik said. “I know you are speaking to Carter, but I cannot see him.”
“Don’t worry. He’s gone now,” I said with a bright smile.
Vik nodded and then slowed as we reached the trees beside the construction yard. Foster ran on ahead, jumping back into the fray beside Aideen and Cassie. I couldn’t see Cara or Sam, but there was enough chaos strewn across the gravel yard to hide anyone.
The Watchers came in from the west.
“Edgar?” Zola said. “How did all these zombies get behind him?”
From the look of rage etched across Edgar’s face, the slash and blood on his suit, I was guessing it wasn’t quietly.
“Solis Incendo!”
Edgar growled. His voice boomed above the shouts of the fairies and necromancers. A needle of fiery yellow orange light bore down from the heavens, lancing through the skull of a bald necromancer. I realized a moment later it was Volund, shock and terror scrawled across his face. Every sound in the vicinity drowned as the crescendo of a rushing train roared and the needle of light exploded into a column of golden flame as thick as the silo beside him.
Volund died in terror and fire.
“Edgar’s pissed,” Zola said.
“Let’s move!” Mike said as he dashed forward. Vik circled around behind the silo with Zola, and I followed Mike.
“Help them,” Mike said as he pointed to a fast moving ball of chaos. He broke off to the south and laughed as a mage sent a torrent of flames toward him. Mike inhaled the maelstrom and the Smith’s Hammer flared brighter.
I finally caught a glimpse of Sam in the snow-obscured scene. She was back-to-back with Cara as they fought off four of the vampiric zombies in a constant, dizzying motion. They were losing ground. Cara winced as one of the zombies reached past her flickering blade and tore into her left wing. It cost the zombie an arm, but the bastard didn’t care. Sam lunged and punched through his head, but it left her back open. One of the others got an arm around her neck and started to bend her backwards. The vampiric zombie was damaged, and its aura was exposed. I’d seen enough.
I raised my arm and my necromancy flared out. It enveloped the zombie on Sam’s back and I flinched as the flash of knowing began.
Ancient, he’d died in the black plague, or at least he should have. So many years past, lost, alone, a rogue vampire for almost three hundred years. So many dead lay in his wake, and he reveled in the destruction. He laughed as he stood on the rubble of a fallen castle. Years passed before a man found him. A man with a sandy complexion, round features, and dark, kind eyes. A demon in everything but body. He tore the vampire’s soul away and replaced it with a demon’s aura, birthing a vampiric zombie. Conscious of his surroundings, but unable to act, he just wanted to die.
I shuddered as the flash faded and my mind became my own again.
Ezekiel.
I’d been looking into the eyes of Ezekiel. I inhaled and tore the zombie’s head off with a flick of my wrist and a blade of necromancy.
Sam spun to face her attacker as his grip loosened. Surprise showed for only an instant before she shoved the body away and dove at the zombie attacking Cara. She knocked its legs out and Cara removed its head before it hit the ground. The last backed away slowly. I can only guess its master was hesitating at sacrificing the last creature.
“Back!” Dad shouted from the edge of the trees. Sam and Cara both ran as another bomb lance screamed past them and lodged in the zombie’s chest. The zombie stumbled from the impact and then kept backing up until it exploded. A hole opened in the side of one of the silos and the entire structure groaned.
Vik and Vassili charged into the clearing in pursuit of another vampire. Their prey was looking over his shoulder and didn’t see the small Cajun woman step out from behind a silo.
Zola held her left hand up, fingers to the sky, and pinched all her fingertips together. The vampire stopped so suddenly I thought his eyeballs would pop out. Vassili’s arm flashed out and stopped Vik from getting any closer. The vampire struggled against the force of Zola’s necromancy, but he didn’t have a chance in hell. She splayed her fingers in the space of a heartbeat and the vamp’s body tore itself apart in an explosion of gore.
“Oh, nasty!” Foster shouted. I glanced over fast enough to see him pulling an internal organ of some sort off his already blood-soaked shoulder. It wiggled a little as it splatted at his feet.
“Was that the last one?” Cassie asked as she leapt down from one of the silos. She carried a head in her hand, her fingers wound within its hair. Her armor was almost as bloody as Foster’s. Smears and scrapes adorned the surface and a nasty dent folded the light around her left temple. She dropped the head onto the gravel with a wet thud.
Aideen checked Cara’s wing. Both of them bore flecks of blood across their armor and swords dripped red from their blades. A small flash of light gleamed as Aideen healed the tear and Cara nodded to her in thanks.
“We must move,” Vassili said. “There are more on the bridge.” He pointed into the distance. I could just make out a row of humanoid shapes across the concrete span.
“Shit, that’s a car,” I said as I watched a pair of headlights run down the road from the north.
“You allow more witnesses, Edgar?” James asked from somewhere off to my right.
“Shut up and move,” Edgar said.
And we did.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
I
cy air tore at my lungs as we ran, our pace scattering the thin layer of fallen snow before us. The headlights were almost to the bridge. The car slowed as the driver must have realized there were people in front of him. A horn sounded, but none of the figures on the bridge moved. The driver laid on the horn, the sound a non-stop blare as the car moved ever closer.
“Idiot commoner,” James said, and the Watcher didn’t even sound out of breath as he ran.
I was about to tell James exactly where he could shove his commentary when a blinding white bolt of power shot through the car. The horn cut off immediately, smoke rising from the hood and windows. The little yellow compact rose into the air, teetering slowly back and forth as it floated toward the river.
“No!” Edgar said, but we were too far away to do anything.
My pace faltered, and I slowed as the scene unfolded before us.