It was eight o’clock Monday evening when Justin finally came to my holding cell in the OtherOps Cleveland office. He looked exhausted, his shoulders a little slumped and unshaved stubble on his chin. He opened the cell door, came in, and sat down next to me on the cot. I set aside the copy of The Count of Monte Cristo I’d been reading and rubbed my still-sore gums. “Well?” I asked. He’d left the cell door open behind him. I hoped this was a good sign.
He let out a sigh and nodded. “I’ve had a hell of a weekend, thanks to you. There are a lot of people in the local hierarchy who are pissed at you for everything, from the dead dhampir in Rocky River to Boris’s scorched blood tally to the dead thrall.”
“I did not kill Michael,” I protested. “That was Jacques.”
“We know. There was a security camera up the street. Footage was pretty grainy, but we got the gist of it. The story you told us checks out. You acted in self-defense. My boss wants to talk to your witch friend—technically she fled the scene—but I doubt there will be any charges. She was a civilian, and probably in shock.”
A security camera. Even if I had wound up dead, Jacques would have been fucked once someone glanced at the footage. Somehow that was so incredibly satisfying. I would have laughed, but the whole left side of my chest still hurt from the stab wound Jacques had given me. “Am I free to go?” I asked, glancing at the open cell door.
“In a minute.” Justin sighed again. “Our in-house sorcery specialist is very curious why your ring wouldn’t come off when we booked you on Saturday afternoon.” I winced, sensing Maggie’s immediate displeasure, but Justin continued, “I managed to talk her out of asking too many questions. But I admit to being curious myself.”
I hesitated, waiting for Maggie to speak up. She did not. “Maybe over a beer someday,” I said. “Maybe.”
“Gotcha. Here’s the deal: we told Boris what happened—the fake version you and I agreed on. We said we’d been watching his shenanigans with the contracts for a couple years now. There are still copies of his contracts, the redacted ones, in the courthouse and his basement, so he technically still has sway over about ninety-seven vampires. That’s enough to make him a Vampire Lord. We told him if he decides to start up business again, or to recreate the original contract language in any way, he is in for a world of hurt.” Justin shrugged. “He doesn’t seem to trust anyone, least of all OtherOps, so I think he bought the story pretty easily. There was genuine fear in his eyes when I told him how close Lord Ruthven had come to getting his hands on his blood tally.”
So that was Boris taken care of. Not appeased, necessarily, but out of the picture. “And Lord Ruthven?”
“When our sister organization in Hungary swung by his estate and asked him about Jacques Williams, his response was ‘who?’”
“He’s denying everything?” I asked.
“Of course. Claims he had nothing to do with it and had never heard of Jacques or Boris Novak. That vampire that your witch friend hit with a glob of garlic? Staked himself in his cell using a spoon. He must have really not wanted to testify against Ruthven. My boss’s boss’s boss gave Ruthven a little friendly advice, off the record, to keep his nose clean in Cleveland for the next few decades.”
I let out a long, shaky breath. So I was clean. This whole damned thing was over. “Thanks,” I managed.
Justin shook his head. “Don’t mention it. But I’ve got to warn you; what with Nick the Necromancer getting released and all this business with the vampires and those contracts, my boss is not happy with you at all. Don’t call looking for a favor from us any time soon: you’re not going to get it.”
“Understood,” I said.
“As a friend, though?” Justin added, standing up and gesturing for me to leave the cell. “I’m glad you called. From what little survived the fire, those contracts were a nasty piece of work. You were right. That could have threatened the whole world in a few decades, and you snuffed it out. Now get out of here.”
I headed outside, collecting my flack vest, gun, endless wallet, and the rest of my belongings at the front desk. There was even a letter waiting for me. It was written in a terrible, barely legible script and it said, I’ve got to get some things in order. Will come find you in a couple weeks. —Nick. I stashed the letter and inventoried the rest of my belongings, then walked outside and checked my phone. It was dead, of course, and I had nowhere to charge it. I sighed, rubbing my temples with the tips of my fingers, standing in the middle of Cleveland with night falling soon.
Heads up, Maggie said. To your left.
I looked over to see my truck idling two blocks down the road. I walked toward it slowly until I could see Olivia sitting behind the wheel. She waved to me. I waved back and joined her, not bothering to kick her out of the driver’s seat. Inside, I found Eddie snoring softly in her lap. “How you holding up?” she asked me.
“Haven’t really slept well in a couple days,” I answered. Eddie woke up just long enough to move from Olivia’s lap to mine. I gave her a tired grin. “OtherOps wants to get your side of the story, but other than that, everything is cleared up.”
She let out a surprised laugh. “Wow. I can’t believe that we’re not dead. I can’t believe you’re not dead. I thought that dhampir was going to clean your clock.”
“He definitely thought he was going to. That’s why I shot him.”
To my surprise, she leaned over and pecked me on the cheek. “You’re the luckiest sonofabitch I’ve ever met. Where to, cowboy?”
“I want a steak. And I want a real bed to sleep in. But there’s something I need to take care of first.”
“Just give me directions.”
I had a light snooze while Olivia drove us toward Beachwood. It was so strange sitting in the passenger seat of my truck that I couldn’t have a proper nap, and I jerked awake as we got off the highway. I directed Olivia down the back streets, and we soon pulled into Ada’s driveway. “I’ll be right back,” I told Olivia. Without thinking much of it, I reached over and squeezed her hand. She squeezed back. I got out of the truck and went up to the front door, ringing the bell. When no one answered, I took out my spare keyring and walked around to the back of the house, letting myself in through the patio door. Everything was tidy, but one glance at Ada’s office told me that no one—except maybe the maid—had been here for days. I did a full circuit of the house, finding nobody, before I headed back to her office.
I pulled a piece of paper out of the printer and wrote a simple message on it.
I KNOW WHY YOU WERE BLACKMAILED.
I left it on the desk and returned to my truck. “Feeling better,” I told Olivia. “Let me drive.”
She pushed Eddie over into the passenger seat but stayed in the middle, leaning into me when I got in the car. Her knee touched mine, and it felt like an electric spark passed between us. Whatever had been building before that confrontation with Jacques had not cooled off.
“Food?” she asked. “Sleep?” Her hand rested on my thigh. I cocked an eyebrow at her. She returned the look and bit her bottom lip. “Your place or mine?” she asked.
“Mine’s closer.”
I somehow managed to make it back to Gates Mills doing twenty over and making out while driving. It wasn’t easy, but we also didn’t die. By the time we reached my driveway, it was dark, the forest looming tall in the windscreen, and we were both half dressed. I took the turn into the driveway way too fast, almost taking out my own mailbox. I was running on adrenaline, the fumes of whatever energy I had left after two long weeks, and the pure bliss of knowing I was about to sleep with someone I liked for the first time in a depressingly long time.
I was halfway down the driveway when Maggie suddenly came alive. Alek, zip your damned pants up.
Excuse me? I managed to ask, Olivia’s teeth on my earlobe and only one eye on my driving.
Alek, there’s something wrong. Alek, stop! That last was a scream, and I slammed on the brake so hard that I had to wrap one arm around Olivia’s waist to keep her from going through the windshield. She jerked in my grip, let out a tiny scream, and threw her hair back.
“What the hell,” she managed before something hit the side of my truck.
It hit hard. I pushed Olivia out of my lap, jerking the door open with one hand and reaching for my endless wallet with the other. I drew my Glock, felt my pants slipping, and did up my belt. I stood there in the silence of a night where the crickets had decided to stop chirping, weapon ready, not wearing a shirt. Situation? I asked Maggie, glancing at the side of my truck. Whatever had hit it had left a sizable dent but was nowhere to be seen.
Situation bad, she said breathlessly. Get back in the truck and get out of here as quick as possible. WAIT! You’re cut off.
By who? I demanded.
By them. Slowly, like someone who realizes they’re being watched through the open window of their home, I began to feel a presence in the dark. No, more than one presence. Dozens of them. Maybe a hundred. I swallowed a bit of bile and lowered my Glock at a shadow that emerged from the night. “Olivia, put your shirt on,” I said over my shoulder. “I hope you have those cantrips ready still.”
“Alek Fitz,” the figure said.
“Boris,” I replied. “How are you?”
“Oh, I’m not well.” The vampire stood just outside of the light from the high beams of my truck. In the shadows his eyes glowed red and he looked, more than any time since I’d met him, feral. There were other figures in the darkness behind him, unblinking pairs of red eyes. More vampires. So damned many more. His entire feudal brood, if I had to guess. “OtherOps said it was them, but I’m too smart for that. You fucked up, rockskin. You destroyed a thing I’ve been working on for decades. You tipped off the cops.”
“Cops that are now keeping a very close eye on you,” I said, glancing to my left. There were more of those red eyes staring at me from the night. I glanced to my right and saw humanoid shapes flitting around in the high beams.
“I’m going back to the Old World once I’ve cleaned up some business here. OtherOps won’t follow me.” Boris sniffed, holding a lighter and carefully puffing a cigarette to life. “I’m not a forgiving man, rockskin. You should have taken whatever deal Ruthven offered you. You might have lived.” He took a deep drag on the cigarette and raised his left hand. “Leave him alive enough so that we can make it hurt for a few weeks,” he ordered.
The first shadow that darted for me took a silver bullet in the chest. I squeezed the trigger again and again, dropping as many vampires as I had bullets before reloading fast enough to make an action star proud. I blew through that second magazine before a vampire hit me from the side, throwing me through the air and into the light of my own high beams. I squinted against it, tried to find my gun, but couldn’t. I got into a crouch, both Grendel’s claw and Mjolnir flaring to life. Vampires swarmed over my truck, shadows that I could barely see, pouring toward me like something out of a horror movie.
Well Mags, I said, it’s been a good run.
Then they were on me. It was like getting hit with a wave of howling, gibbering flesh. Within moments I gave up any pretense of this being a real fist fight and just began to swing my arms with all my strength. Grendel’s claw sliced through meat and bone like butter, covering me with blood. Mjolnir caved in the side of a vampire’s head, punched a hole in a sternum, and then took a fanged jaw clean off before several of the beasts grabbed onto my fist, hanging from my arm like children, weighing me down so I couldn’t take a swing. I felt teeth and claws tearing at my skin. Something latched on to my cheek, yanking a scream out of me.
I got a glimpse of a familiar face in the melee. Boris moved like a shadow, flitting here and there, before he was suddenly on me. I freed my left hand and took a swing with Grendel’s claw. He grabbed my wrist, jerking it to one side, snapping the bone as easily as my tattoos had cut through his minions. I screamed again. He jerked me to the side, rag-dolling me back and forth, grinning into my eyes the entire time.
Pain lanced up my right arm, and it took me a moment to realize that it was coming from Maggie’s ring. The heat came on sudden and overwhelming, sorcery tearing through the air with the force of an explosion, scattering vampires in every direction. For a moment I was free and Boris had retreated to the edge of my driveway, crouching in the shadows as he examined me, his clothes smoldering.
Thanks, I managed to say to Maggie. I looked toward my truck, trying to find any sign of Olivia. I couldn’t see shit in the high beams. As far as I knew, she’d already been torn to shreds.
Don’t thank me yet, Maggie told me. That’s about the best I have, and there’s still seventy-one of them left. Unless Boris retreats … She trailed off. From the predatory gleam in Boris’s eyes, he had no intention of retreating. His vampires stalked around me in a circle, warily. Boris’s hand suddenly twitched, and they surged toward me, howling, piling on. Maggie lashed out with her sorcery, driving them back again. The blast had a little less force than the first one, and I knew from experience that Maggie could only do so much sorcery from within her ring. My left arm hung at my side, useless. My clothes were barely shreds of cloth on my body, and I was bleeding from dozens of wounds, my troll skin torn into by the claws and teeth of an angry vampire brood.
I lifted my right hand, watching Boris for the next order he would give for his creatures to attack. I could feel there was nothing left in the tank—I was going to die here, and I was going to die badly. One more surge of those assholes would bowl me over for sure.
And then the high beams suddenly flicked off, leaving us in darkness, the only light coming from my Mjolnir tattoo and from my porch security lamp about thirty yards away. There was a thump followed by a high-pitched whine. The night suddenly lit up with a chorus of screams, and I could see the shadows of vampires falling over themselves in the moonlight, hands clutched to their ears. There was another thump, and the entire world filled with the scent of garlic. It was so strong that my eyes began to water. I staggered back and would have fallen if arms had not caught me. Olivia put herself under my right arm. She had my shirt tied around her face. I saw a small shape dart past us and heard a voice yell, “Get him to my temple!”
Olivia pulled me toward the house. I tried to run with her, only to find that something had happened to my knee. I leaned more heavily on Olivia, trying not to fall, my vision growing hazy. Around us, I could see that whatever she’d done to incapacitate the vampires was not permanent. They clutched at their eyes and ears, but they were already beginning to recover. I managed a glance over one shoulder to see the shape of Boris himself stalking after us, slow but determined.
“Get him to my temple!” Eddie called again from ahead of us.
“Hey,” I muttered in Olivia’s ear. “You need to get out of here. I’ll try to distract them. See if you can get back to the truck and get out of here.”
Olivia turned suddenly, clapping her hands together. Fire engulfed a single vampire that was rushing us from the side. He cartwheeled away, screaming. “Eddie says you’ll be fine if you can make it to the house.”
“My temple,” Eddie mewled. “My temple!”
I could feel a little anger in my growing despair. “My house isn’t warded! It’s not going to protect us from shit! You’ve got to get out of here.”
Olivia paused again, jerking a fistful of something from her pocket and throwing it toward Boris. I heard the sound of a thousand tiny wings. Glancing over my shoulder, I could see that whatever they were, they weren’t slowing him down. Olivia propped me up again and pulled.
The porch light loomed large, and we were suddenly underneath it. I stumbled against the siding, searching for my keys, only for Olivia to open the door. I’d left the damned thing unlocked all week. Somehow that stood out to me as funny. I wasn’t sure why, when I was about to die. I used the last of my strength to push her behind me and turned to face Boris’s army. I raised my one good fist, knowing I was moments from passing out. Mjolnir glowed brightly.
Boris stepped onto the half-rotted wood of my front porch. His face was red, and he looked more than a little annoyed at the garlic bomb that Olivia had hit him with. A victorious smile darted around his lips.
A little shape suddenly deposited itself between us. Eddie, the little fucking sphinx. He sat on his haunches, raising one paw toward Boris.
Boris snorted. “So that’s where you got to, you little shit. I’m going to sell you to the shittiest zoo I can find once we’re back in the old country.”
Eddie shook his whole body, his wings unfurling. He raised himself onto his back legs in what was clearly meant to be a threatening gesture but looked too adorable on someone his size. Oddly, he seemed to grow larger. He said, “This is a consecrated temple of Sekhmet. Be gone, or face the wrath of the guardian!”
Something—hesitation, maybe—crossed Boris’s face. “Sekhmet has been dead for thousands of years,” he scoffed. “If you had any real power you would have used it to escape the cage I kept you in.” He took another step onto the porch.
Eddie was definitely growing. He was the size of a golden retriever now and still getting bigger. A rumble came from deep in his throat. “Your home was never consecrated. But I am the Herald-Prince of a dead god and this is holy ground. Ferryman grants me her power from beyond the grave.” The voice was deep and vibrant. Boris came to stop halfway across the porch. Eddie rocked backward. “You were warned,” he growled.
The pounce took Boris off the porch, hurling him into the darkness. Eddie was the size of a lion now—maybe bigger—and his wings spread as he cleared the porch, blotting out my vision of the entire yard. Olivia clung to my arm, both of us staring open-mouthed as the darkness suddenly burst into a chaotic whirl of shadows. Dozens of vampires poured toward Eddie—the same wave that had hit and almost overwhelmed me minutes before. The wave crashed, and I expected Eddie to go down beneath the weight of it.
The wave wavered, shaking, and suddenly broke. Vampires fled across the lawn, scattering in all directions. Eddie’s wings flapped heavily, and his immense form crisscrossed the yard, paws swinging talons the size of scythes, rumbling roars echoing in the night. Within moments all I could see in the darkness was the corpses of vampires and I could hear something large crashing through the woods. Boris himself lay where Eddie had pounced upon him, the old vampire nothing but a shriveled, bloody wreck. I stared at that body for several moments, wondering if I’d already died.
“I think,” I said aloud, feeling consciousness slipping, “that he gets albacore from now on.”