I opened my mouth to scream, but as soon as I did I felt my fangs, the ones I had my entire life, slide even farther down from my upper gums as they almost doubled in length. This time I did scream, but it wasn't a scream of fear. A scream of rage burst forth. An honest to goodness scream of primal fury shook the windows of the office, stopping the fighting momentarily outside, and turning the already pale Cicero, white with fear. If vampires urinated, I would bet my last paycheck I would see a stain on the front of his three-thousand dollar pinstriped Armani suit.
He looked for an escape; I could see it in his eyes, but the only route to the door behind me would be to go through me, and Cicero didn't look like he wanted to take that route. I heard the battle resume behind me and I knew Thompson couldn't hold off a dozen vampires and three times as many werewolves. My transformation had taken minutes; minutes he didn't have. I leapt across the room with the intent of grievously wounding Cicero in hopes of incapacitating him, but I wasn't in control. As soon as I had his head in my hands, my mouth sought out his neck. I bit so hard I tore flesh and the spray of blood shot across the room and stained one white wall a crimson red. It looked like an artist had airbrushed a solid red rainbow across it.
Cicero had become a lunatic. Because of him good cops and good people had died. He lived by a set of rules which had died out long ago for good reason. He had no morality, he had no mercy, but his blood tasted exquisite. As soon as it hit my tongue I relished in its flavor, I relished in its taste, and I sighed from a debt now forgiven. Michaels died because of me, and now I ended the life which had ended his. I knew I wasn't going to stop and I didn't care. I drank until the blood flow slowed and then stopped, and then I wanted more. I came to a realization at that moment. When I rolled a vamp with my mind I felt their power. It manifested itself in my mind as a body of water. Again, I hovered above it. Cicero floated in front of me, helpless. I could feel the ocean of power tied to the blood of Cicero's body in my arms. I knew if I tried hard enough I could suck it out as well. I didn't draw it out with my mouth; I called it with my mind. I felt the body of water surge like a tide answering not to the moon, but to me instead. I called it and called it until the tide turned into a flow and then into a channel emptying itself into me. I felt his power add to my own. I wish I could say I left him a small pond to keep him alive, but my body took it all. When I released him he fell to the ground quite dead.
I let out another primal scream. This time the fighting didn't stop. I turned and bounded through the door. Thompson had fallen to one knee, one leg torn open by werewolf claws. Still, he fought. Vampire and werewolf bodies were strewn on the ground all around him, but they still surrounded him two and three deep. They kept trying to get close enough to deal a mortal blow. I felt the anger return.
I waded in slashing with claws, biting with teeth, and wrenching with all my strength. Blood covered me from head to toe, but it just fueled my fire and filled me with further bloodlust. I drove through them from the back to get to Thompson. Once by his side I helped him up to his feet and continued to fight driving the werewolves back. All of the vamps took one look at me and stopped fighting. I don't know if they were afraid of me or felt Cicero die. Either way I didn't care, it just meant less people I had to tear apart. Besides, I had more than enough werewolves to worry about.
Thompson started getting his second wind when little silver missiles started flying down from the landing above us. I half expected them to start hitting me and Thompson as well, but they struck only the werewolves in their legs, arms, and chests. They started lying down with their hands up when they realized to keep fighting meant dying. FBI agents started pouring in through the front door and down the stairs, weapons trained on the prone werewolves. Thompson fell again to his knee completely exhausted and I started shaking. The bloodlust and anger filled me and drove me to crush the foes in front of me.
I clenched my fists and closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. It wasn't working. I felt a hand grab my wrist and drag me into the office. Thompson sat me down on the couch and held my hand. I closed my eyes and didn't want to open them, not for at least a week. Somebody opened the door and a human sounding Thompson yelled at whoever had come in to get out. I didn't know what else to do so I went to the place in my mind where I could see my ocean. I floated there by myself, hovering over turbulent frigid waters. I couldn't see any shore containing it, but I could sense it had grown a little larger than before. Large white capped waves surged below me in every direction. I concentrated. I pictured the waves rolling instead of breaking and I could feel it working. They slowed and stopped breaking and finally even the caps disappeared until it became a rolling sea. This I could deal with, rolling good, waves not good.
I opened my eyes and Thompson stood there staring at me. It wasn't a worried stare; he looked almost as calm and serene as I felt. I felt better than I had since Michaels had been abducted. Even thinking about him didn't hurt as much anymore. I looked down at Cicero's lifeless form and didn't feel regret over his death, just about the fact I had caused it. I just wondered what would happen next.
"Reese seemed kind of pissed I kicked him out, is it okay if I let him in now?”
"I don't want him to see me like this. Just get me out of here. I'll turn in my badge later, please," I begged.
"Ashlyn, you don't understand, you're fine. You're back to normal. Trust me, when you calmed down the horns went away. Your face is back to normal. You look tired as shit, but normal."
I could tell he wasn't lying. As soon as the words came out of his mouth I reached my hand up to my head and felt around. No horns, no saber toothed Ashlyn. I let out a huge sigh I didn't know I had been holding in and sank back into the leather folds of the puffy couch. "Thanks, big guy. You can let him in."
Thompson stood and walked over to the door and opened it quickly, stepping outside, and leaving me alone with the corpse of Cicero. I sat for several minutes before they came back in. Reese ran over to me and held me as I sat on the little couch and returned the hug. I let out a sigh and thanked the gods everything was over. He let me go and handed me his FBI jacket. I smiled my thanks. I wrapped it around me and sat back. He asked me questions which I answered and with every answer he seemed appeased a little more. I only lied to him once, when he asked how Cicero had died. I told him I didn't know. The truth couldn't have been simpler. I ate him. Not the physical him, but the spark of magic which gave him life I devoured and made a part of me. I just hoped he didn't give me indigestion.
Chapter 23
I received a commendation from the Deputy Director of the FBI for my work in Chicago. Two weeks had passed before I hopped on a plane and headed back to Washington. Reese told them he had needed to tie up loose ends and fill out paperwork. To me he said I earned a paid vacation to get my head back in the game. I stayed at a hotel after retrieving my things from Michaels' apartment. After I left, his parents came to collect his things. Call me a coward, but I didn't stick around to introduce myself as the agent who got their son killed.
Thompson did take me to see Marcel. Apparently since I killed the Master of Chicago I had earned the right to take his place. I asked if I could decline, and he said yes. He seemed very supportive and happy about my decision. He said I could call on him any time if I ever wanted to learn more about my abilities. I did inquire as to what would happen now Chicago had been left without a Master of the City. He told me it would fall to Pike since Marazzo would be spending the next several years in prison until the time of his execution. I worried Pike wouldn't be able to do the job, but Marcel assured me the North American Vampire Council would be finding a suitable replacement.
I wondered why they didn't step in and remove Cicero from power, but as it turns out it's not how they work. They are made up of the most powerful masters of different cities. Cicero himself sat on the council. If they start dictating rules to different masters, it's seen as a territorial war and then things can get really ugly. Since he now existed as a jar of ashes, the circumstances had changed.
Rose Gates is now very comfortable in her cell at the Federal Prison outside of Marion, Illinois. Her trial begins next month. Reese told me she would be serving several life sentences, and the Deputy Director had launched an investigation in New York centered around her father.
I have a new permanent partner too. Reese recommended Thompson for the job, and the Deputy Director asked me if he seemed acceptable as a full time partner to me. I didn't bat an eyelash. He's somebody I'd follow into hell, again.
Epilogue
Asmodeus sat on his throne and waited for the visitor to be announced by his herald. He had no inclination of what would bring one of the Chosen to his realm. He had done nothing outside of the law. He slammed his fist down on the throne of bone, but its enchantments made it indestructible even to the amount of force from the Demon Lord's mighty fist.
"My Lord, I bring you Raphael of the Second Choir."
Asmodeus nodded at his herald and looked to his Seneschal. The ghostly demon floated from his place to his Lord's side.
"Raphael, it is unexpected to see you roaming my halls. What brings you to my realm?"
"You have a very large problem, cousin," the angel sneered through clenched teeth.
"What do you mean?"
"You have broken the law and upset the balance. It has tilted greatly."
"I have done nothing outside my rights! What are you talking about?"
The angel sat down on a bench of his own conjuring, his pearlescent wings folding around him comfortably. He knew the list of charges by heart, but pulled the vellum scroll from a pouch at his side. He took great pains and great pleasure unsealing it and opening it, and took even more pleasure from the worried look on his cousin's grim visage.
"Nearly two decades ago, Lord Asmodeus did answer a summons meant for one of his minor underlings. It is your right to do so as we both know, however this is where it gets good. Upon his arrival he did willingly partake of the flesh of his summoner, impregnating her, and inflicting upon the mortal world a new type of Nephalim. It is the presence of this Nephalim which has upset the balance of power established by The All."
"Raphael, you are mistaken. I did partake of the flesh of my summoner, but no child could have been begotten by her physical body. I myself ate her soul after the completion of our union. She called, I answered, and she couldn't contain me. I had the right to partake of her flesh. How could I have begotten a child when we both know it takes the soul of a human and the seed of one of the Chosen or Fallen to create a Nephalim? She had no soul, she could not have been with child," the demon spoke angrily. He didn't mind being accused of ill deeds, as long as he did them.
"Dear Asmodeus, the answer is simple. If you would just think for a moment, I undoubtedly know you yourself could come up with the answer."
The answer did come to Asmodeus, along with a little dose of fear. Damn those humans. It had been so long that he had enjoyed the flesh of a human, he had forgotten to see if she had been born what they call twins. One soul split between two physical manifestations of flesh. "She had a twin!"
Raphael seemed pleased he had puzzled the solution out by himself. He stood and clapped. He turned and dismissed the stool and made to leave the halls of Asmodeus' throne room.
"Cousin, just a moment," he called out to the retreating Angel. "What is my Punishment?"
"Punishment? There is to be no punishment. You are charged with the restoration of the balance. Too long has your kind plagued the human realm with your misbegotten offspring. Every time one of you disobeys an edict with your desire, you create some sort of monster whose only purpose is to plague the children of the All. Fix it cousin, or there will be punishment."
Sean Hayden
works in South Florida as a Fiber-optic Engineer for a cable communications company.
Born in the Suburbs of Chicago he relocated to Florida as a child, where he grew up and attended school at a small Catholic elementary and high school. It was there, in literature class, he fell in love with books. Vampires especially fascinated him as well as the realm of possibilities of the urban fantasy genre. This fascination gave birth to his first novel, Origins.
He lives at home with his wife, children, and a plethora of pets.