Leviathan (Fist of Light Series) Page 12

  Jas had gotten a huge lead by bolting ahead without notice. How he was able to do so successfully was uncertain. Regardless, as frantic breaths of air were expelled from my mouth and we took cover, the distance had to be recovered. The clenching of my gut told me nothing good would come of his little trick. Sounds of music began to reach me as we neared our destination, an orchestra or something similar. The lively, emotional song clashed and only partially drowned out the screams of the dying. Shivering, I allowed the adrenaline in my veins to fuel my movements.

  Everything was revealed when he had come within a stone’s throw from the vampire's party. A cluster of hungry vamps formed a perimeter around an unidentified point of interest, partially occluding the scene. An orchestra was visible in another corner, all of whom looked scared out of their mind. I wondered if this bloodbath was a usual thing, or whether this was some sort of special occasion. Bile forced its way up my throat as my eyes panned back across the cavern, again noting the enormous tables. This time I could see writhing humans had been strapped down and made into main courses for groups of bloodsuckers. I counted more than twenty such innocents held down in such a manner, as well as another, equally disgusting sight. A sort of blood buffet had been erected, where fountains squirted a viscous liquid high into the air, pieces of human appendages were laid out, choice cuts piled high. My stomach turned as I realized the fountains weren't your run of the mill jobs and the dark liquid was no colored dye.

  “Caleb?” Kathryne's soft voice asked softly from beside me. “You okay?”

  An intangible groan escaped my lips, an insufficient response that was indecipherable. Even as the contents of my stomach were lost to the sight, an insistent tugging grew within my mind, calling me onward, outside myself. The sensation grew exponentially as my gagging slowed to a stop and I managed to fall to my side before my reality shifted entirely. My vision was an indistinguishable haze, tinged red around the edges. Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth expectantly and my stomach rumbled as if denied a meal for weeks. Hands clenched painfully at my sides, I could feel the fingernails digging into skin and drawing blood. Ignoring the running dialogue on the periphery, my fists were brought up to my face and eyes watched entranced as blood beaded and fell to the cavern floor, where it splattered enticingly.

  “How long has it been, Jason?” A voice called, its demeaning tone capturing my attention. “Days at least, yessss? Your blood has begun to turn to ash within you. Frankly, it’s surprising you can even stomach the stuff, considering your heritage.” At this, laughter exploded, traveling throughout the crowd. The sound echoed painfully through my ears, threatening to overwhelm my tenuous control.

  I tried to return to my body, but it was no use. I was rooted to the spot in this horror show, an unwitting captive with no escape. Jas' eyes locked onto his tormentor, who, at first glance, appeared hardly into his twenties. His long black hair was bleached at odd interval and a black coat fit snugly onto his lean frame. When his fingernails were brought unconcernedly to his face, his black fingernails were on prominent display. A cruel smile adorned his features, with dark eyes that captured and savored every instant of this dark encounter. The whole crowd appeared in their prime, though their steely, bottomless pits for eyes gave away ages that were far older than they appeared.

  “A Were who is also a vampire. A disgusting, blasphemous union, something thought to be impossible. Of course it had never been tested, which is far from surprising, considering the animosity between our two races.”

  “Why tell me this?” Jas head lolled to one side and I gasped inwardly at what the movement revealed.

  The mystery of Noah's whereabouts was uncovered then, although I wished it had remained hidden. He wasn't in good shape and it was obvious from his many wounds that his stay here had been far from pleasant. Chains were attached to his body at each appendage and one around his neck, which were all driven into the ground by an enormous spike. The apparatus seemed largely overkill for a single man, though if he shifted it couldn't do much to hold him. In that way, I wondered how they were keeping him restrained but had no time to ponder it.

  “Why wouldn't I?” A malicious grin sparkled. “We're all family here, after all. Do you think you've found yourself here within the stronghold of our clan because your father happened upon information leading him to this place? Did you think you could arrive unnoticed and save the day?” He pointed one blackened finger at the hapless form chained impotently.

  “No. Your existence was no secret. It was the reason your mother was killed in contempt all those years ago. Good riddance, I say. She should never have fraternized with this filthy dog.” He kicked at Noah's prone form and the sound of ribs cracking was painful to hear. His features distorted into an indecipherable mask as he circled Jas' father. “This man has been the cause of innumerable deaths of our clan and many others of the Pantheon. And yet, wouldn't it be fitting for his own son to wipe clean the debt he has accumulated?” The grin returned, a knowing, inviting smile.

  “Andros, do you think this is wise? We should just kill 'em as planned and be done with this sham. Then everything can go back to normal,” said one of the previously silent observers.

  “Silence! You hardly have the strength to move, yes? I doubt you've ever encountered such a group of vampires, if even one. Although even you must know we have the ability to influence primal emotion. Your hunger,” he licked his lips in apprehension, “is like a balm to our satisfied palates. You see, the continued existence of your father has been a thorn in the clan's side for centuries. And yet, we are a long-lived race, and so we laid in wait for the opportune time. The prestige of your father made things... complicated, but even then it was only a momentary bother. Now I see your unnatural birth was more than fortuitous. It was fated from the start. Your vile Clan is on the brink of destruction, its careful ties destabilized by their inner struggles for power. I wonder, what exactly would happen if this Skin Walker were to die.”

  “I would think the entire Clan would burst apart at the seams,” a lackey provided helpfully.

  Andros raised a clenched hand and pointed it at the offending interruption. “Imbecile!” Jas' red-tinged vision caught the flaring of a sigil on the vampire’s neck before the dark being exploded in a shower of gore. “Does anyone else wish to intrude?” Silence. “Good. I shall deal with my little brother. Do not question my methods, or you risk angering me.”

  More and more, I was trying to connect with Jas somehow, communicate my presence or help in some way. But every attempt was met with failure. I was being blocked. Even the tendrils of Air had vanished. My gut told me it had something to do with his peculiar state, and that, I knew, wasn't good at all.

  “Brother?” Jas managed to croak.

  “Half-brother, really. Dearest mother birthed me properly before she broke the most sacred of our vows and consorted with the Were. She was banished, but that didn't deter her. She could have come back to raise me if she’d thrown herself on the mercy of the Pantheon, but she wanted nothing more than her scum husband. That's why she couldn't be allowed to live, you understand. It is against every custom we uphold; it undermined the most ancient of laws. And now, here we are, a drop in the eternal bucket later. You're all grown up, brother. Eighteen is a very special year for us Royalty. Your every instinct calls for blood, sings for it.” Andros brushed a hand outwards, towards Noah, and Jas' body contorted as it fought the compulsion.

  “Boys,” he demanded, and immediately Jas’ will was subsumed by multiple others. “It is too bad you came alone, there might have been a chance, however slim, if an army was at your back. There aren't that many of us who were given the honor of staying behind.”

  “Fight it, Jas,” I urged, melding my strength with his own.

  “Jas,” Noah's strangled voice reached us, and we locked in on his presence.

  Our heartbeat pounded, battered in time to those seeking entrance past our defenses. An insatiable hunger clawed its way to the surface,
seeking satisfaction. We could feel that it would only be sated by complete and utter dominion of another's life force. Our mouth radiated with bone-deep pain before the fangs made their appearance. The extended canines were sharper than any blade. Our vision went completely red, our mind lost to a bloodlust so comprehensive it was all-consuming. The depths of our morality were drained by deep pits of hunger that consumed everything except a singular goal- sating our bottomless thirst.

  “All those years and I never suspected your mother’s past. She had many secrets. Don't let your hunger consume you, son. It will be a constant battle, fighting your nature. But remember, you are more than that. You have the blood of the Were flowing through you.”

  The man was before us now, a helpless individual unable to flee from our superior power. Cocking our head to one side, we listened to the inner whispers that cautioned against the action we were taking, but they were brushed aside like wispy cobwebs, a minor nuisance.

  “The first kill is the sweetest.” Andros nodded in approval. “The taste is unlike anything, unmatched by any other sensation. Like liquid ambrosia, the nectar of the gods. Under its power, all weakness retreats and wounds knit themselves back together. Our abilities are multiplied ten times more on live than that disgusting aftermarket bagged blood. Go ahead, taste it. You wait much longer and your body will waste away. Blood sustains us, drives our very essence like a preternatural bellows. Without it, our very being unravels. Although, with it, you'll still fall to pieces. There's a reason why there aren't more of your blasphemous kind running around.”

  Noah's manacled arm reached out to caress Jas. “I've always loved you, Son. Never forget that. This is no fault of yours. It’s out of your control. Don't blame yourself.”

  “Ah, how sweet, our sacrificial lamb has made peace with his death.” Laughter spread through the crowd. “Have you nothing to say to your father, Jason? No? Ah, oh well. I hardly think you'll survive the transformation, let alone the following days. The blood of a Were is toxic to our kind. I'm surprised your own tainted blood hasn't killed you already. You can go to the grave knowing you brought this little play to a close. Now, the dark shadow hanging over our family will be expunged.”

  Even as we pierced the soft skin of the jugular and greedily drained Noah of his blood supply, whatever had bound our minds together fractured. Instantly, like the rebounding of a tennis ball against a wall, I found myself back in my own body. Rocketing up and gasping for breath, I searched frantically for the collection of bloodsuckers. The human body could only withstand losing a third of its blood before it went into homeostatic shock. I could only assume the same was true for Were. From what had been alluded to by Andros, the transformation was a deadly one for the victim. Worse, if what Andros had said was true, Jas would die if he drank the blood of another Were.

  — Chapter 12 —

  “Caleb! What's wrong?” the question flowed from Kathryne's mouth, and from her tone it was clear she was done with being discreet.

  “Weapon,” I commanded, envisioning my kusarigama’s sickle blades on each end of a length of gleaming chain in my mind’s eye.

  I gazed down at the shining blades and brilliant length of chain in my hands. Lightning crackled down its length, spitting and hissing, gearing up for a fight. I had sensed the change when Jas sucked down that first drop of blood. My body felt like it was on fire. The bond had altered the fabric of my being, moved around my cells into a different pattern.

  “That's new,” Kathryne said while dragging me to a standing position.

  “We've got to help Jas.” I politely shrugged off the help and fed the embers of my anger, stoking it into a roaring fire.

  Wiping the remnants of my breakfast and lunch from my mouth and spitting more onto the cavern floor, I prepared my weary, beaten body for action. I began a laborious sprint, augmenting my speed with purple strands of air, pushing myself faster and faster. The distance separating me and my target closed in mere moments, and I attacked mercilessly, not bothering to announce my presence. Positioning my hands and propelling one bladed end forward, I swung the other in a circular motion at my side. A head tumbled lifelessly from a vamp’s shoulders, and I landed another successful strike before anyone noticed my arrival. The chirping of a thousand metallic birds accompanied my movements as I waded into the bloodsuckers, taking no prisoners. Lightning spat when it came in contact with stolen blood, making my cuts all the more potent.

  “Target the Royals. Without their masters’ guiding hands, their clutches will become maddened beasts,” Jeeves relayed.

  Only a small group of vampires had stayed behind for this spectacle, which worked to our advantage. “There aren't as many as I'd expected there to be.” Where the rest were I had no idea, I just hoped they were too far away to come running when everything went to hell for their brethren.

  No one had expected reinforcements to show up at the last hour, and their numbers were too few to stand against my fury. That had been a mistake on their part, a miscalculation that Andros and his scheming pals had failed to plan for. What's more, the whole lot of them were drunk on the massive quantities of blood they had sucked down, making them that much more vulnerable. Weapons were few and far between, and I was able to disarm them easily before they came within range, disabling the weapon with one sickle while striking with the other. It was a deadly combination and a bloody battle. After a few minutes, I was certain Kathryne fought beside me, but I knew she could take care of herself. My entire being was bent into cutting down the opposition and those arrayed me fell like wheat to the sickle in my hands.

  My spinning blades slashed opened new holes in the immortal beings before me, spilling their life source to the ground. Their heads tumbled lifelessly from shoulders and cries of anguish by the human captives were replaced with cries of hope. All that more motivated, I caught a dagger with one blade and flicked it into the air, slicing at the jugular of a Royal with the other. Blood squirted out of the open wound, and it made me realize how much more vulnerable to the grasping hands of death these vampires were. Although they might be possessed of superior power, their beating hearts were their downfall. Because of it, they could die from mortal wounds just as easily as a human if they didn't heal themselves in time.

  More and more, it was evident that these superior vampires had no stomach for open battle. They were creatures of shadow and strife, striking in the night at the unwary. This time, they were the ones to feel sharp steel spilling their precious supply of blood. Wary vampires broke off in ever increasing numbers, until all those before me had fled for safety. No more wished to face the uncompromising bite of electric steel or confront the physical force of my anger. A feral grin stretched my face into the parody of a smile as I went about the task of ridding the world of a few more vampires. As I did so, the severing of connection between master and servitor guaranteed the death of many more underlings as they ripped each other to shreds.

  As my blade began to swing down on the gorging form of yet another Royal, the weapon slipped through my fingers and disappeared. “Jas?” I called hesitantly and his sights fell on me, his chest and arms dripping bright red with blood. “Everything's going to be all right.” I used my patented talking-a psycho-down-from-a-ledge voice.

  Kathryne appeared at my side, hunched down while cleaning her blades. “They'll be back. There wasn't an entire brood here and they weren't prepared for our intervention, but this is their stronghold. They've got something up their sleeve.” Her eyes narrowed, green irises sparking slightly, then a gasp escaped her. “Jas! What— there's so much blood! Are you okay?”

  I looked away from her eyes, feeling that failing to do so would amount to an unwholesome intrusion. My efforts were focused back on the scene. I couldn't look over at Jas. Whatever he was going through, there wasn't much I could do to help him through it from the outside. He would have to fight this battle himself for now. If my suspicions were correct, it would be one hell of an internal struggle.

  “He'
s been through hell and he came out a changed man,” I spoke the statement grimly.

  “Are those fangs?” She reached for her weapons instinctively.

  Intercepting the movement, I grabbed her hand lightly but purposefully. “This was a long time coming, apparently. He was always meant to come here, though it looks like they weren't counting on us showing up. I need you to keep one eye on him and another out for Herk, wherever he's gone off to.”

  Kathryne nodded, although she still seemed uncomfortable. The chained mass of flesh and bone attached to the stake was immediately visible and I rushed over to it frantically. Noah was a wreck, a body put through every kind of physical and emotional torture. From what had been said, this had been a planned operation, botched as it was by insufficient strategizing.

  Almost automatically, I felt for the faint stirrings of a pulse on the underside of the wrist, unwilling to bring myself to search for the carotid in the bloody mess of his neck. My heart leapt up into my throat when I applied pressure, but after a brief, infinite moment, a faint beat could be felt. An exhalation of tension flew from my lungs, something I didn't know was there until it had escaped me. Noah had become such an integral part of all our lives that we had come to think of him as an adopted father.