I regained control of my body days later, possessing only the vaguest sense of what had happened in the meantime. I sensed darkness, violence, magic, and death. Waking up was simultaneously refreshing and disgusting. The disgusting part coming from the fact that I awoke coughing up blood into the sink of a bathroom. I was naked except for a pair of expensive new black silk boxer shorts, the kind with pockets. My head hurt worse than when Dracula messed with it.
The bathroom had a black marble floor, six different kinds of towel, and walls decorated in heraldry-covered green wallpaper. I was in a hotel. A high class one, too. It was the kind of place I’d used to stay in when I was richer than God and not on a mission. I didn’t miss those days, but it made me wonder what I’d been up to.
Looking up into the mirror, I saw my bare chest was sporting a number of new tattoos. Representations of the twelve animals of the Chinese Zodiac were across my chest, arms, and legs in a dizzyingly beautiful intertwined pattern. I could feel mystical power buried within the ink. Corrupt mystical power.
Even the dragon tattoo on my back I’d had before my blackout felt like it had been redone. Reaching out with my limited sixth sense to touch the tattoos, I could hear screams of those whose blood had gone into creating them. Someone, probably me, had killed people in order to harness their life energy. It was extra disturbing because I could feel a lot more power running through my ki centers, or chakras. My entire adult life, I’d struggled to do even the simplest spells compared to my father and siblings. Last year, I’d had a breakthrough, but even then, I lagged behind them by decades. Now I felt strong.
I was never going to be the kind of magical Mozart my father was, nor would I ever use the kind of power my sister, who was more Billy Joel, wielded. I thought I’d come to terms with it but I hadn’t. Here, covered in black magic-enhanced tattoos forbidden by the Red Room for centuries, it would have been a lie to say I wasn’t the least bit excited. I coughed a bit more and ran the water in the sink to wash away the blood. It didn’t feel like I’d done so out of disease or injury. No, it felt more like I was spitting up something I drank.
Shaking my head, I muttered, “Man, I am messed up.”
In the mirror, my reflection took on a life of its own and crossed its arms. “Well, we knew that. The big question is what we are going to do about it?”
Normally, a person might find this sight unsettling, but my mirror reflection was quite chatty. One of the consequences of my awakening was that my soul was capable of communicating with me whenever it wasn’t pleased.
Which was most days.
“What the hell is going on?” I asked, hoping my reflection knew more about what had happened during my blackout.
My soul frowned, shaking his head. “Perhaps you should look in the bedroom for answers.”
“This is going to be bad, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“Great.”
Taking a deep breath, I turned around and walked to the wooden door of the bathroom. Reaching down, I turned the door handle and opened the door. On the other side was an abattoir.
The walls were covered in crimson mystical sigils and there was a lovely dark-haired woman, with her heart missing, laid out on the bed. She was not wearing any clothes, and it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to piece together what had happened.
Turning my head, I saw the Bloodsword resting on top of a corrupted Daoist shrine built on my dresser. It had incense burning in front of a trio of pictures. Computer printouts of Ashley, Penny, and Shannon’s images formed a trinity in the shrine’s center.
The room looked like the home of an occult serial killer.
Which, I suppose, it was.
Unable to say a word, I walked over to the woman’s corpse and placed my hand to her neck. It wasn’t to check her pulse—I wasn’t stupid—but the act somehow made it real that I could have done something like this. Touching her skin, I remembered driving the Bloodsword through her chest while holding her down.
I also remembered the woman flashing her fangs at me.
“She was a vampire,” I said, taking a deep breath.
Palpable relief flooded me.
“Does that make a difference?” my soul said, stepping out of the bathroom mirror and walking into the room behind me.
“Honestly? Yes. Yes, it does.”
My soul glared at me.
“What the hell happened to me during this time?” I asked, looking around and trying to figure what the hell sort of magic I’d been working around here. Blood magic wasn’t forbidden by the Red Room, but I didn’t know how to cast even a tenth of the magic worked here.
There was a lot more sorcery worked into these walls than could have come from a single blood sacrifice either, even if the victim were a vampire and had much more magical oomph inside her. No, someone had done multiple kills here.
Treating the whole thing like a crime scene—ignoring the fact that I, having been mind controlled by a magical sword, was the perpetrator—made me less inclined to flip out. And I was on the verge of a flip-out.
“You’ve been exterminating Nassau’s vampire population for the past seven days. Together, we have killed sixteen Captains or higher in their organization.” A female voice came from the foot of the bed and I turned my head.
Sitting on the edge of the bed was a woman wearing grease-paint, her red hair in girlish braids like Lucy, a blood-red corset like my sister favored, and a pair of black leather pants with a Little Red Riding Hood-like cape around her back. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, similar to Shannon’s. There was something both unsettling and familiar about her, as if she combined a dozen people I knew into a single entity who looked like all but none of them.
“Oh great, it’s you,” my soul said, rolling its eyes. “I was hoping you’d taken the night off.”
Reaching out to sense what sort of being she was, I pulled back as I detected the largest concentration of dark magic I’d ever felt in my life.
“You’re a demon,” I said, scared I’d sacrificed my soul and sanity by using the weapon.
“A mortal term,” the woman said, shrugging her dainty shoulders. “I’m not a fallen angel, just a spirit of bloodshed and murder.”
“Oh, my mistake,” I said, faking shock at my faux pas. “Clearly, I misjudged you as someone evil.”
She smiled with blood-red lips. “I was created when Cain first killed Abel.”
“I’m pretty sure cavemen were killing each other well before Aaron wrote down that parable. There’s no Garden of Eden, Cain and Abel, or Eve in my beliefs. Just evolution and hominids smacking each other around.”
The creature turned to me as her eyes glowed bright green. “Most stories have a grain of truth to them. There was an Adam, and an Eve, and they had children in Eden. It was just in a different place than the world you know.”
My soul snorted. “And demons never lie.”
“You assume angels always tell the truth,” the demon snipped at my soul.
“Admittedly, true. What should I call you?”
“Bloody Mary,” the demon said. “One of my previous masters had an obsession for sending me to kill foolish boys and girls who spoke my name in front of mirrors. I found it tiresome and demeaning work.”
“Killing children usually is.”
“I agree,” the demon said, smiling. “We already have something in common.”
“Derek, this is dangerous,” my soul said behind me. “Don’t engage this monster. I’ve been trying to fight her off this entire week.”
“And what a bang-up job you’ve been doing.” I turned back to our new guest. “What do you want?”
“To help you, my love.”
“Sorry, Mary, I don’t date demons.”
Bloody Mary stood up and walked over to the altar, where she looked at the Bloodsword. “You kill with me, though, and that’s what I want. It’s why I left Dracula’s service for yours.”
I was having a conversation with the One Ring. That was how I felt right now. “I’m pretty sure Dracula has killed more people than me.”
“He preys on the weak. You prey on the strong. It has been centuries since a true warrior’s hands have held my grip.” Bloody Mary’s tone made that sound dirty.
“So, you expect me to believe the Bloodsword has decided to serve a guy who wants to bring peace to the world,” my soul said behind me. “No matter how violent he is.”
“Hey,” I snapped at my soul. “I get enough of that shit from other people. I don’t need my conscience nagging me.”
“That’s what I’m for,” my soul pointed out.
Okay, he had me there.
“I come bearing gifts,” Bloody Mary said, aiming her fingers at my boxer shorts. “Look at your ring.”
I reached into my boxer shorts’ right pocket and found my wedding band there. I hadn’t worn the ring in years, but there it was. The ring’s golden color had been replaced with a beautiful black sheen. It also felt heavier. I touched it with my extra-normal senses and was bombarded with nightmarish images. They were familiar images, too. I saw the Wazir, the vampires I cut to pieces, and two hundred other victims—all mine. The power in the ring was tremendous. The tattoos were one thing, but the magic in the ring was even more powerful. I could be a real wizard now.
Bloody Mary seemed amused by my reaction. “Magic begins in belief and emotion. However, the most powerful sorcery is born from two acts—the giving and taking of life. Men have always feared and coveted the former power when wielded by women. They have always wielded the latter, though. You are an exquisite murderer, Derek Hawthorne, and I would like to see you reach your full potential.”
“Men are involved in the life-giving process too,” I said, avoiding her question. The magic available to me was clouding my judgment.
“Which is why your father has sired so many children and keeps them so close. His seed so freely spread has given him great power that he’s turned against his enemies. I could reveal more of his secrets.”
Ripping my ring off, I tossed it against the wall. Holding my hands to my head, I focused on positive feelings and tried to summon the necessary energy to banish the darkness before me.
I failed.
Bloody Mary narrowed her eyes, not even looking like she felt it. “Thinking me away won’t work, Derek. You have far too much imbalance in your soul. If you want to be alone, though, you only had to ask.”
The demon disappeared, leaving me alone with my soul.
“We are so fucked,” I said, rubbing my temples.
“Technically, there’s no ‘we’,” my soul said. “You’re going to have to clean this up.”
“I’m a little more worried about the fact that I’m Jack the Ripper,” I said, disgusted at all the carnage surrounding me.
“If it’s any consolation, I think you only lured her here with the promise of sex. Also, she was going to kill you anyway.”
“It’s really not.” I took a moment to try and gather my wits. “So, we’re on the verge of war with the Vampire Nation, Shannon is close to breaking up with me, there’s a possible conspiracy within the Red Room, and I’m possessed.”
“I’m glad you have your priorities straight,” my soul snarked. “I’m sorry about this, Derek. We should have more mental resistance to Bloody Mary. It’s just—”
“I used the weapon’s power a half-dozen times, which in terms of magical law is an invitation for the demon to possess me.”
“Yes.”
“Fucking Christopher,” I grunted. “Why did I ever trust him?”
“Because he’s your friend.” My soul took an oddly reassuring stance. “The weapon seems to want to help you. You were close to death when you emerged from the ocean. Every bone in your body was broken and your organs near-liquefied when you hit the water. The Bloodsword and its power kept you going, and these sacrifices repaired your body. The Vampire Nation is on the run. Nassau has been their capital for centuries, and half the undead population has fled. They aren’t used to being hunted in their home territory.”
“Which isn’t going to help prevent a war,” I said, looking at him.
“It might, actually.” My soul paused. “You know, if the Red Room decided to turn you over to them in exchange for peace.”
I stared at him. “Is it wrong knowing that helps relax me? That I won’t be responsible for things going completely to shit?”
“Quite the opposite,” my soul answered. “I know you love peace more than anyone. It’s just you’re not very good at it.”
I closed my eyes and cleared my mind. “We have to handle this one thing at a time. What is the Vampire Nation’s likely response to my actions here?”
“I imagine they’re combing Nassau. The police, local agents, and every blood slave they have will be on the lookout for you. The Bloodsword has the ability to thwart perception and allowed you to move around undisturbed.”
“Like invisibility? It is the One Ring.”
“More like being unnoticed. Which, when you think about it, is superior to invisibility.”
“Well, that’s not an option anymore. I need to continue with my mission and find out what’s in the safety deposit box Christopher lured me here with.”
“Given that I’m you, it’s redundant for me to point out how stupid that is.”
“Someone is trying to manipulate me, and I’m going to find out who.”
“I believe it’s obvious Christopher is behind this. Whatever affection he once had for you is gone. He’s attempting to use you as a weapon against someone. You should count yourself lucky you survived Dracula. You need to return to the Red Room, report your findings, and get a dozen well-qualified exorcists to do an industrial-strength cleansing.”
Tempting as that was, I was sick of following everyone’s lead. I needed to get ahead of this. Reliving my experience with Ashley strengthened my convictions. I’d made a decision that night to never be anyone else’s pawn again, and if Christopher was behind all this, I was going to make him regret it.
“I—”
“I know. There was never any doubt you would choose otherwise. I just held out hope you might surprise me.”
I walked over to the bed and pulled the sheet up over my last victim. I didn’t have much sympathy for vampires as a general rule. I didn’t think they were people. At least, not people who didn’t suffer a need to devour the living and a psychotic break from their conscience. I didn’t know this person, either, but I’d moved past the period where I killed monsters just because they were monsters. I couldn’t say whether she’d deserved to die or whether she’d been a one-in-a-million vampire who gave a shit about others.
Hell, where did I get off judging anyway? What I did know was everyone deserved a dignified death, and this wasn’t anything close to one. Bloody Mary had decided I wanted to kill vampires—or maybe she sensed I had a lot of lingering anger toward them and used that as an excuse to start killing them. Maybe she thought I’d mind less than slicing up a bunch of innocents. She was right, but that didn’t mean I was going to let her hang around my head, giving me advice and occasionally taking over. I needed to figure out a way to stop her and get her out of my body.
“Suggestions?” I asked, knowing my soul would know what I was talking about.
My soul crossed his arms. “She’s enhanced your ability to work sorcery by several orders of magnitude. I wouldn’t be surprised if your gross power output rivals Penny. You can make use of that and other blood magic rituals to drive her away if she makes another appearance.”
“Isn’t that like using laughing gas to fight the Joker?”
My soul gave me a dry look. “Really?”
“Sorry. I didn’t want to keep making references to the One Ring and Sauron.”
“Derek, you’re thirty-two years old and a spy. We need to talk about your obsession with pop culture.”
“I’m pretty much a wizard cyborg dragon James Bond who knows kung fu. Allow me one vice.”
“I allow you about fifty. That includes being an asshole. We’re getting off topic, though.”
“Let’s just focus on the situation,” I said, wondering how else I could oppose Mary. “Are there any other methods we can use to fight her?”
“You realize you’re talking to yourself. Right?”
“I’m in a room that couldn’t be shown in a slasher movie for how much gore is on the walls. I think we’re past the point of me being worried about looking crazy.”
My soul paused, leaning up against the wall. “According to most sources, blood magic draws its power from death and destruction. That’s the theme park version of it, though. Blood magic also draws life from healing and sacrifice. At the risk of blaspheming your old faith, Rabbi Joshua Ben Joseph changed the Roman Empire with his crucifixion.”
“Let’s hold off on comparisons to Jesus, okay?”
“I’m saying love and self-sacrifice fights violence and hate. It’s why kisses break curses and true love can overthrow gods. It’s also why betrayal brings down the wrath of the gods. White magic and black magic are two sides of the same coin.”
“Let’s also avoid fairy tales as guides for fighting demons.”
My soul rolled his eyes. “Fine. Summon Bloody Mary with magic, force her to manifest, and kill her.”
“Now we’re talking!”
My soul sighed and vanished, leaving me alone in the room. Taking in all of the sigils, I sighed. It would be no use leaving all of this mess for the rest of Nassau to find. Worse, I had no idea what sort of DNA or trace evidence I’d left behind for them to track me with.
In normal situations, I’d call the Red Room to clean this up, but they didn’t have any influence on Nassau. The Vampire Nation had claimed it and killed any agent who arrived without strict diplomatic endorsement from three levels above them.
Lifting up my hands, I channeled the Bloodsword. I drew every drop of blood in the room into my body, feeling the power in the walls fade away as it became a part of me. I got a sense of the spells, which were divinatory in nature. Bloody Mary had been using me to cast haruspex or entrails-reading magic.
What had she wanted to find out?
I didn’t have time to find out. In the pristine room, only the bloodless corpse of the vampire remained. I placed my hand on top of her covered form and muttered a spell I’d never had the power to perform before. In an instant, her body crumbled to dust, and I disposed of the remains in a trash bag.
Finding a set of clean clothes in the dresser, I changed into them, and departed into the night.
I had to find my sister.