Blood Redemption (Blood Destiny #9) (34 page)

"But we haven't found anything suitable," Prylvis pointed out.

"Zellar thinks this is important," Viregruz countered. "I'm inclined to listen to my wizard."

"Our people are coming to join us, Lord." Prylvis was correct—Zellar had sent everyone in the building upstairs to, in his words,
view the victory
.

"I did not give permission," Viregruz snapped. One of his Blood Captains stepped forward, ready to take any order from Viregruz. He would send the rabble downstairs quickly if that were Viregruz's wish. Viregruz was prepared to issue the command when pandemonium erupted.

* * *

"Stupid, spelled locks," Zellar hadn't placed the spell on this lock; one of the others had and it could take ticks to sort it out and get it opened. Eight of Viregruz's lion snake shapeshifters were inside the spelled cage. These weren't Viregruz's assassin snakes—those were upstairs now, most likely getting shouted at by Viregruz's Blood Captains. Zellar only needed a little more time. The lock fell to the floor with a thunk, bringing a surprised gasp of pleasure to Zellar.

"Farzi!" Zellar commanded, "Bring your people out. I have something for you to do."

A shapeshifter stood in the dim light. Farzi and his brothers had been caged in the warehouse basement and only allowed out if something needed to be cleaned or repaired. They were not happy with their situation, but then they'd not been happy all their lives. They were created to serve and that's what they did.

"We will come." Farzi nodded to his brothers. All of them were standing quickly. They had no desire to bear the lash of Zellar's anger. Farzi led his brothers from the cage.

Zellar motioned for them to gather closer—he needed them to be as near to him as he could get them. Zellar cringed when the noise of weapons fire sounded from the upper floors.

* * *

If Norian wanted the enemy together in order to attack all of them at once, he was getting his wish. Norian didn't have any vampires in the ASD, except for me. If we lived over this, I might have to rectify that. The two werewolves he had were trying to do battle with older, stronger vampires. Six of them. Two wizards were hurling blasts at us. I was thankful they didn't have better aim—wherever those blasts hit, holes were knocked into thick stone walls.

The noise was debilitating, too. Shouting and cursing echoed through the building—even as I watched a vampire run past me screaming, flames consuming him as he ran. I misted toward one of the older vampires, removing his head with a sweeping slash of my claws. Norian and Lendill were killing with their ranos pistols—those things were splattering anything they hit. Some of Norian's agents had gone down—two of the vampires were killing them as quickly as they could. The floor was slippery with blood already and others were losing their footing.

I went after the vampires as mist, taking heads swiftly. A large man who had many others surrounding him was hit in the head by one of Lendill's shots—the man was taller than his guards. His head exploded, sending his guards scattering like pigeons.

"Norian!" I shouted—four lion snake shapeshifters had appeared and they were viciously biting anything that came near—friend and enemy alike. Norian turned in my direction when I shouted, barely avoiding decapitation by another vampire who had appeared out of nothing—Black Mist's misters had arrived. I went after them as mist. The blackest of purple-blacks—that's how they appeared to me. Using a small amount of power, I forced them back to corporeality. The moment they were solid, they died.

Norian was firing at lion snakes. Lendill, too, had started firing at the shapeshifters. A large window in the side of the building was blown out by gunfire and three of Norian's agents were hurled through the opening. I had less than a second to react. Should I save them or keep fighting?

* * *

"I not have my tools," one of Farzi's brothers whimpered as he followed Zellar and his brothers.

"Shut up or I'll kill you," Zellar snarled. The shapeshifter hushed quickly. Zellar was leading them toward a side door that led to the street between buildings. The noise was loud enough from the upper floor that Zellar knew all the building's inhabitants were engaged. He needed to get as far away as he could—he didn't want to risk Viregruz's wrath or allow any remaining warlocks to feel his power signature when he folded the shapeshifters away. Zellar had plans, and they no longer included Black Mist or Solar Red.

* * *

My geometry classes always taught me that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line. Misting in a straight line would have taken too much time and Norian's agents would have died. Instead, I folded space, disappearing from point A and reappearing at point B, with barely enough time to keep three operatives from splattering against the brick streets six stories below. Capturing them as mist, I settled them onto the street.

"We're all right," one nodded, nervously lifting his weapon. I knew what that weapon was—Norian had equipped three of his people with the same. Flame throwers. They were the weapon of choice to combat vampires, and probably the reason this man had survived. Many of Norian's people had gotten decapitated before I could get to all the vampires.

"Good," I nodded at the agent's words. "Ready to go back?" I was ready to fold them back anyway when movement caught my eye. In the darkness of the smoke-filled night, most humanoids would have missed it. I was vampire and could see more than well enough in the dark.

"Get down," I hissed, pulling the man down. His two companions dropped beside us. I watched—more movement. The three agents didn't see what I did. I pulled the flamethrower away from Norian's agent. If it were vampire, it was about to be hit. What appeared instead shocked me.

A man stole through the shadows, followed by eight others. While my eyesight is good, I'm not sure I would have suspected if Norian hadn't shown me the vid-photos. These men were all shorter than the man they followed; Just as the reptanoids on Norian's vid-recordings had been. Someone was leading reptanoids away from the battle. I wondered who it might be.

"Stop there!" I shouted, rising and pointing the flamethrower. I barely had time to fire the thing before all nine disappeared before my eyes.

Shouting and cursing, I folded all three agents back to the battle. Tossing the flamethrower to the agent I'd borrowed it from, I went back to work, removing heads. Thankfully, Norian and Lendill were still alive, although there were only six of the thirty ASD agents remaining. Three of those were the ones I'd saved. I kicked things into a higher gear.

Chapter 15
 

"Is that all of them?" Norian had called in extra people from somewhere. Honestly, the man has more resources than anyone I'd ever seen before. Bodies were quickly separated into different areas, friends on one side, enemies on the other.

"Yes," I said aloud.
No
, I sent mentally.

What is it?
Norian returned. Aloud he said, "Well, let's get them loaded up, then. Lendill, can you take care of that for me?" Lendill nodded at Norian's question and went to issue orders.

There's one left
, I informed Norian as I toed a head toward a body. The body belonged to an enemy—I wouldn't have treated any of Norian's people that way. The floors beneath out feet were slick with blood, gore and vampire ash. Wizard blasts had knocked out an entire wall—the one surrounding the windows. The wizards had died too. I made a mental note to contact Erland—just to see if any of them were on Wylend's list of wanted warlocks.

Where?
Norian's question filtered into my mind.

Rafters
, I replied.
Shapeshifter
, I added. What I didn't say after that was that it was also vampire. Amid all the scents inside the room, there was only one that bore the signature of Dark Elemaiya. I figured this was how Black Mist had survived for so long—it was headed by a shapeshifting vampire who could likely mist as well—that's where the Black Mist name had originated. They say that every person has an opposite. I'd found mine. There was a good chance that this one was a King Vampire, a thought I found frightening. And he held le'meruh—something I didn't have.

What are you going to do, Lissa Beth?
Norian signed off on an assistant's comp-vid.

"Nori, I want to wash my hands. Do you think there's a bathroom here somewhere?" I spoke aloud. Norian would know what I was about.

"Has to be. Try downstairs." Norian nodded toward the fire escape stairway.

"I'll be back," I said and walked through the door.

* * *

Cheedas smacked a bowl of popcorn down in front of Drake and Drew. "My little girl off doing things like that? You should not be enjoying this," Cheedas muttered, moving things around on the island while Drake, Drew, Gavin, Tony and nearly all of Lissa's mates watched the news-vid from Mazareal. A reporter was standing in front of a burned-out building, saying it was the former headquarters for Black Mist and Solar Red. Images of bagged bodies being hauled from a building across the street were shown in an inset.

"Rumor has it that at least sixty ASD agents were killed while taking down the enemy," the female reporter continued.

"Just like always—exaggerate and then apologize later," Tony tossed a popcorn kernel toward the screen.

"You'd know about that," Drake nodded to the former Director of the Joint NSA and Homeland Security Department.

"They'll have to apologize quickly, Mazareal is dying." Karzac sat down heavily to watch the vid. "Have we seen anything of Lissa yet?"

"Not yet," Gavin muttered. He was angry. Garde was also angry, as evidenced by the curls of smoke drifting from his nostrils.

"Wait, look!" Rigo had caught sight of something. All of them focused where Rigo's finger pointed.

* * *

My advantage over my opponent was that I could see him while he was mist, but he couldn't see me. Not while he was still a falcon, anyway. It was genius, actually. Who might suspect a bird sitting in the rafters of assassination sites from one end of the universes to the other? Even if anyone had seen the bird, they'd have thought nothing of it, more than likely. Now, all I had to do was decide what to do with my quarry when I grabbed him and he turned back to vampire and started fighting.

Mist always works. It had never failed me—not even once. When I gathered our homicidal falcon into my mist, he was held there in a sort of stasis, just as anyone else would be. Oh, he could still see and experience emotions—fear being the most important one—but he couldn't act on that fear until I let him go again. A power bubble is what I formed on the streets of The Meadows, the poverty-stricken portion of a city that could no longer boast a sandwich cart outside Black Mist headquarters. The founder of Black Mist was left a prisoner inside the power bubble while I misted through its edges, coming back to myself just outside its perimeter.

The falcon turned, just as I imagined he might, hitting the inner wall of the bubble with vampiric force. The bubble held. He was shouting at me while I stared at him, my arms crossed tightly over my chest. Norian and Lendill came to flank me.

"Who do we have here?" Norian asked.

"Unless I miss my guess, he's the one who created Black Mist," I replied casually. Our prisoner, whose hearing was just as sharp as any vampire's, heard clearly.

"I'll kill you!" he shouted. "You have no cage, no cell, no dungeon that can hold me!" He pounded again on the wall of the bubble. Well, at least the bubble was holding him. For the moment.

"What's your name?" I asked. Well, we still didn't know that. Did we?

"I won't tell you, you fucking bitch. I'll kill you. I'll shred your skin and feed your blood to dogs!"

"He looks like a teenager," Lendill muttered.

"Oh, he's older than that," I said. "Around thirty-six hundred, unless I miss my guess." I saw the media trying to get close to us, their cameras trained in our direction, but Norian's people and the local constabulary were holding them back. It didn't keep zoom lenses from invading the space, however, or spy-mics from hearing everything that was said. Norian might have to confiscate those recordings later, but this was likely going out live to the Alliance.

"What made you create Black Mist?" Norian asked. "I have to admit, it was a work of genius. I've never met anyone who could even come close to this." Norian was playing on this guy's vanity.

"I am powerful," the vampire said instead. "You have no idea what you're fucking with, here."

I had an answer ready for that, but Norian gripped my wrist in his hand. I held my words back. "After all," Norian continued, "we've been chasing you for a very long time. You've stayed out of reach every time. Offered us false trails, phony leads and bogus information. I was beginning to think you might be a god or something, you'd become so powerful. Every Alliance citizen lives in fear of Black Mist. No King, Queen, Governor or politician feels safe if you target them. Honestly, that's quite a resume you've built for yourself. Still don't want to tell us your name?"

The vampire continued to ignore Norian. Instead, he came to stand right in front of me, pressing his nose against the inside wall of the bubble. "I will drink you dry," he hissed. "When I escape, and I assure you that I will, I will make your final moments terrifying and painful. You will wish you'd never heard of me, little pretender. You think you're a Queen Vampire? My sire told me they were weak. That any male could make them do their bidding, just by giving them sex with the bite."