Of Noble Chains (The Ventori Fables) (13 page)

“Even though they’re Specters?” The woman in front of Zia stood and walked out of the chapel, clutching at the cross that hung around her neck.  Her eyes looked so sad, but no tears fell.  Zia hoped things would turn out alright for her.

“The fact that they were Specters does not mean they do not deserve peace, and justice,” the Father explained.  “They were not monsters.”

“Now that is something I don’t really understand,” Zia began to push back her cuticles, no longer wanting to watch the flames flicker on the altar.  She saw the Father turn to her from the corner of her eye, but she kept her vision downwards.

“You will learn that isn’t true,” he told her, “I believe that is why Aeryn has taken such an interest in you, and in these particular cases he has you on.  He is trying to show you that the monsters aren’t always made from shadows.”

Zia pictured the vampire boy in her mind again, remembering the scars he had on him, the portable video game player that was still in his room.  She found herself asking, “What was his name?”

“Alaric
Pentov.”  Father Killian didn’t even hesitate to answer, knowing exactly what Zia was thinking.  She could tell he was beginning to take down the wall around her, but just because a few vampires died didn’t mean she was going to trust Specter’s.  There was a reason Ventori existed, and it was solely to catch STRAYs.  The Father continued, “He had often volunteered here, he loved playing songs for the kids.”

“Hmm,” was all Zia could manage.  After a few minutes she asked, “He was found in the staircase, right?  Do you know which one?”

“I believe it was the Western staircase,” Father Killian replied, entwining his fingers again, “near the construction on the fourteenth floor.”

“I’m going to go check it out,” Zia stood and walked towards the chapel doors, taking in as much warmth from the sun as she could before turning to the Father and saying, “Thank you.”

Mal wasn’t sure how this man in black cloth had reached the Ventori girl, but he had.  Although she would never admit to it, he could tell that she was beginning to question her belief system; she was beginning to wonder if all Specters really were evil.

“You should talk to her,” the Father said, his eyes still shut, hands near his face, “she needs another push, and you might be the person to do it.”  Mal blinked and dropped his shield, knowing that the Father was talking to him.

“How did you know I was here?” he asked.  This man was a human, and even the Ventori could not sense Mal’s company…so how could he?

“An old man has his ways, child,” the Father shrugged, lowering his hands and opening his eyes to gaze upon the cross at the front of the chapel.  Mal followed his line of sight and watched the object, strangely unnerved by its presence.  The Father’s blue eyes then fell on Mal, and he said, “You should talk to her again; Aeryn told me you protected her.”

“I did what I could,” Mal stood, ready to find Kehzia and strangely wanting to.  Something about her stuck with him, something he didn’t want to let go of.

“It might be best you stay with her,” the Father suggested, “she is very much like her brother…she doesn’t think about what she does, she simply…acts.”

Mal said nothing else, growing confused by the mention of Kehzia’s brother.  He had watched her for over a day now, and had seen nothing of a sibling.  He walked out of the chapel, leaving the Father to his prayers.

The woman roared as she swept her papers from her desk, a glass shattering on the floor next to them.  She swore loudly, not caring who heard.  That damned Rinehart!  He was bringing the Noble girl to all the wrong places; her plan was being threatened. 
No, His plan
, she reminded herself.

She ripped the phone into her hand and dialed; it picked up quickly.  She said, “Fix it, or you’ll be taking a long vacation in the catacombs Specter.”

“As you wish, my lady,” the dark voice chuckled.

She hung up.  This would be fixed, even if another Noble had to die.

There was no evidence in the staircase that would tell Zia where the vampire boy had been found.  The only thing she was able to go off of was the construction Father Killian had mentioned.  Fluorescent lights flickered overhead, giving an ominous, inconsistent darkness to the hallway.

Zia stepped under the grime coated plastic separating the fourteenth floor from the staircase, careful to look around her.  The hallway was long, with white plastic sheets hanging from the ceiling to cover everything.  The renovations must have been put on hold, she thought, while the new Accord was being signed at City Ark.  The lights created a glow that almost looked like the moons on a cloudy night, their reflections bouncing off the walls.  As she stepped further into the hallway her foot slid, almost toppling her to the ground.  She managed to catch her balance against the wall, cursing herself for not being a little more graceful.  Ventori weren’t supposed to
slip
.

Once she had steadied herself she looked down, checking to see what it was that had caused her private humiliation; blood.  Not a lot of it, but enough drops to make her slip on the plastic construction sheets.  Kneeling down she got a closer look at the red liquid, unable to tell if it was Vampire or human.  Considering the recent spike in Vampire deaths though, she would bet it was one of the victims.

“It’s his,” came a voice and Zia whirled around to find Mal coming through the doorway.  His hair was matted and he wore the same clothes as when she first met him; hadn’t he gone home?  Ignoring her strange concern for him, she put her hands on her hips.

“What are you going on about?” questioned Zia.  Mal’s eyes shifted from their usually unusual violet to a more normal one as they fell to the blood at their feet.  He stepped up to her, eyes never leaving the blood that was on the floor.

“It’s Vampire’s blood,” Mal looked up, face solemn but somehow unreadable, “this is where he most likely died.”

“And you’re here to what, confess?  I know it wasn’t you,” Zia rolled her eyes and spun back around, avoiding the blood.  She took another step in and peeked through a plastic curtain.  The room on the other side was empty, just like the hallway.

“I do not understand,” Mal spoke slowly, as if he wasn’t sure what words to use.

“What don’t you get?” Zia sighed, moving across the hall.  “A confession is when someone is guilty and they want to be punished for their crimes.  And you—“

Mal cut her off.  “I do not understand why you speak of my innocence yet hate me.”  Zia turned this time, her hand still placed on a sheet, ready to pull it back.  He almost sounded heartbroken, she thought, but quickly shoved that thought away.  What she couldn’t push away though was how it made her feel guilty.

“I don’t…” she started to refuse but couldn’t.  It wasn’t that she hated
him
; she hated
what
he was.  “I just don’t like Specter’s.”

“Have you always seen us as such monsters?” Mal followed Zia as she continued down the hallway, even checking in the rooms she had.

“Not exactly,” she mumbled to him.  Now was not the time to have a bonding moment with a Specter, she told herself.  “Didn’t really care either way when I was a kid.”

“What happened?”

Zia found a room that felt different, the fifth room she had checked.  Just before she stepped under the pearly sheet, strangely cleaner than the rest, she said, “A Specter killed my brother.”  Zia stepped into the room, allowing the sheet to flutter shut behind her.

Mal paused in the hallway, wondering if he had heard her right. 
Her brother?
he thought.  When he heard her shuffling inside the room he was brought back to his senses and tossed the sheet aside, letting it fall to the ground.

“I-I am sorry,” he stumbled, “I did not know.”

“Yeah, not exactly something I share with every Specter I meet,” Zia was walking around the room, arms out in front of her as if she were blind.  She flailed them about, momentarily distracting Mal.

He asked, “What are you doing?”  He continued to watch as she moved around the room, occasionally stopping to glance around.

“What do you care?”

“I meant it when I said I wished to help you,” Mal’s eyes drifted over the sheets in the room, also noticing that they were much cleaner than the others on the floor.  Finally it hit him, the magic that was absorbed to hide something.  Mal gasped and blinked hard, feeling its strength
and wondering how he had not felt it before.  While Zia wandered about in the room, Mal soon said, “You will not find anything that way.”

“Why not?” Zia asked, stopping herself from waving her arms.  She turned to Mal, the man she had just told about her brother’s murder, the first person she had talked to about it since it had happened.  Well, second next to Iscah.

“I can allow you the sight,” he told her, waving his hand from her to come to him, “but that is all.  If I break the glamour it may alert the Caster that it has been found.”

Zia approached him, wary that he may be tricking her and as he raised his hands to her head, she flinched.  He only gave her a weak smile before she closed her eyes, and touched his fingers to her temple.  A small, static shock ran through her body and she opened her eyes, her face not far enough from Mal’s.  When she tried to stumble backwards she bumped into something.

Spinning around, expecting to see another Specter she found what she had been looking for.  The once empty room that she knew wasn’t really empty gave up its secrets to her.  What she had run into was a hospital stretcher, with large brown leather straps set where a person’s arms and legs should be.  There was more hospital equipment that Zia recognized, but could never name; it was meant for drawing blood.

“It is Achaicious’s work.”

Zia jumped at Mal’s voice

“He has written the spell to hide all of this.  How did you know it was here?”

“I could sense it,” was all she said and left the room.  Mal quickly followed suit, his feet crinkling the plastic sheets that covered the floor.  “We need to leave before it comes back though.”

“Ah, yes,” Mal nodded when they reached the stairs, “the Black Angel.”

“You know about the Crusnik?” Zia almost tripped over her own feet as she headed down to the chapel.  “How—“

“There have been whispers,” Mal looked wistfully upwards, “about new Specter’s coming into the city…I’ve heard things about…” His eyes drifted down to Zia, who was holding her breath.

“About…?” she prodded.

“It is irrelevant,” Mal shrugged and walked past her, “but you should get reduc-chains, so that he is unable to use his strength.”

“I know what
reduc-chains are!” Zia shouted as Mal disappeared down below.  She hurried down and expected him to be gone, vanished into the air but he was there, waiting for her when she rounded the corner.

“You look surprised,” Mal tilted his head like a confused puppy.  Zia felt something inside her shift and she stepped back, up one step so that she felt just a little bit safer.

“I just thought…nothing,” Zia snapped her mouth shut and pushed against Mal’s shoulder to move him.  “I need to find Aeryn.”

Aeryn finally showed up, after another hour of Zia waiting inside the chapel with Father Killian.  She had been trying to wrap her mind around Mal, to figure him out but she couldn’t think of any real reason he would want to help her.  He almost seemed to be worried about her, and the intense way he looked at her with his strange Specter eyes made her feel like she was the only person in the world.  He was intense, and she didn’t know what to think of it.  A sigh escaped her lips, and her mentor noticed.

“Something wrong?” Aeryn asked, a playful tone in his voice.  He held up the
reduc-chains and passed them to her.  Zia took them, confused.

“No, why would something be wrong?” she questioned back.  The
reduc-chains looked like regular handcuffs the human police in New Havilan would use on regular people, but a lot thicker.  The links that bound them together were made with steel and iron, something that was hard to come by these days.  Well, the pure stuff was hard to come by these days, since it was one of the only common weaknesses Specters had.  It had to be shipped from overseas, and many of the boats sank before even arriving.

Something shifted in the sky, and the chapel grew darker.  When Aeryn only gave her a quizzical look, she added, “I think Achaicious is involved in this.”

“Why’s that?” Aeryn was already moving out of the chapel, Father Killian and Zia close on his heels.  The chains dropped down and clinked as she walked, and she couldn’t ignore this strange tightness in her chest.  Was this fear finally coming for her?  Was Kehzia Noble finally afraid of something?  The only image in her mind was of Malachi Fel, and she felt the answer was yes.

“He’s done a spell to hide where the Angel’s killing grounds are,” Zia explained, only half listening to her own words.

Aeryn stopped suddenly, turning to face her.  He asked with a smile, as if already knowing the answer, “And how do you know that?”

Zia paused, wondering what she should say.  But she confessed, “Mal told me.”