Resonance 4th Edits - Bleeding Worlds Bk 3 (23 page)

“Does Lord Quetzalcoatl need me?” Jason asked.

She didn’t answer, just pulled the door shut behind her.

“There are still other guards outside,” Jason said, reminding her any actions she took would be heard.
 

She smiled—more predatory than friendly.

“Do you really think most of the people here have any loyalty to these false gods?”

She shook her head ruefully.

“They only follow out of fear or a desire to share a little of the power. Enough money or the promise of a better position in the regime to come, buys their silence effectively.”

“The regime to follow…” Jason said. “You mean Woten, naturally.”

“You shouldn’t use his name so casually. He is a truer god than any of these impostors. When he arrives, the people will rejoice.”

“I don’t think people will welcome one tyrant over another.”

She looked ready to strike him, but stayed her hand.

“If this didn’t need to look like a suicide, I would dismember you slowly for your disrespect.”

“I guess my intelligence about Valkyries infiltrating was pretty accurate.”

She shook her head.

“You know very little, I’m sure. Did you think it was only Anubis’ pride making him so intent on destroying you in Egypt? We did that—not only to eliminate a thorn from Asgard’s side, but to further destabilize this world’s,” she
hmphed
with disgust, “political structure. Soon we will control everything beneath these fools’ noses, and then we’ll topple them to make way for Woten. Your death while under Quetzalcoatl’s watch will help discredit him with the others. You’re arrival here has helped us in many ways. I almost feel like I should be thanking you.”

Jason laughed.

“Actually, I should be thanking you,” he said.

His whip lashed out, snaking around Hildy’s body.

“Don’t struggle,” Jason said. “The barbs have a bad habit of shredding things.”

Her eyes widened.

“How…? You have a nullifying collar on.”

“Oh, this?” Jason said, pulling the collar from his neck. “Fuyuko deactivated it before she left me here. You get everything?” he called out in a louder voice.

The door opened and Fuyuko stepped inside. In the hall, the two guards watching his door were shackled and escorted away.

“Fully recorded,” Fuyuko said. “Both audio and video. She’d tried to set up a loop to cover what happened in the room, but it was easy to disable. I
did
tell you there were eyes everywhere in this facility.”

Jason shrugged apologetically at Hildy.

“So, thank you,” he said. “I actually didn’t know about the Valkyries on this world until I saw you in Quetzalcoatl’s throne room. I faced you six years ago in battle—I never forget a face. I would’ve outed you there, but I thought waiting for solid proof would be better. And now you’ve given me that. Fenrir is one step closer to its goals thanks to you. I’ll let Woten know before we chop his head off.”

Hildy charged, the barbs constricted, cutting into her arms, back, and chest.

The shaft of Fuyuko’s spear cracked across Hildy’s head, sending her unconscious body crumpling to the ground.

Jason let his whip melt away to the Veil.

“Get her secured and taken to the cells,” Fuyuko ordered several guards. “You got lucky,” she said to Jason. “If she hadn’t talked, only attacked you, we wouldn’t have all the proof we needed.”

“Perhaps. But even her attacking me would’ve put her motives into question. But I’ve dealt with Valkyries before—they love to boast how incredible Woten is at every turn. I knew she couldn’t resist telling me how stunning his plan was.”

“I’ll request an audience with Quetzalcoatl immediately. I can’t promise he’ll be as pleased as he should be—we did defy his orders to make this happen.”

“Nothing is without risk,” Jason said. “I took this path to leave you out of it, but you deactivating this collar did the opposite, didn’t it?”

Fuyuko shrugged.

“Maybe. But it’s not quite open treason. I can probably justify this one.”

Jason took a deep breath and sighed.

“If we get past this hurdle, we might just make it.”

“I’ll post new guards at the door. They’re good men, I’m pretty sure they can be trusted, but you might want to stay awake, just in case. Oh, and one more thing.”

She came close, reached her hands around his neck, and clipped on a new collar.

A cloaked figure held Richards against the wall, his feet flailing a foot from the floor.

Marie left Caelum only seconds before. She’d been delayed, checking a few rooms on the way.

Davies lay several feet away from Richards and his assailant. Marie couldn’t know if he’d been questioned first, or just killed immediately. Either way, the man was lost.

She dove toward the cloak, daggers forward. At this speed, she’d punch her fists right through the bastard’s chest.

The daggers struck flesh and drove deep inside, striking not air on the other side, but hard, unforgiving concrete. Marie looked up to Richards’ eyes, wide, but quickly slackening. Warm blood gushed over her hands. She released the daggers, which faded back to the Veil, and stepped back, having to pull her hands free from Richards’ abdomen. The lifeless body slid down the wall, smearing it red.

Marie’s hands trembled. It was so hard to breathe.

A sledgehammer of a fist came from behind, smashing against her temple. She flew through the room, smashing against, and through, a table and came to a stop thanks to the concrete wall.

She gasped and coughed, tasting blood.

“At last,” the cloaked figure said, “someone interesting.”

Marie tried to get to her feet, but they bent at odd angles beneath her and she collapsed back to the ground.

“Marie!”

She heard her name coming from the hall. It registered it must be Caelum. She needed to tell him to stay away—this thing wasn’t any normal Anunnaki. But words wouldn’t come. Instead, she vomited blood and bile.

“You weren’t invited,” the cloaked man said.

He motioned toward the hall. Slabs of concrete broke free from the walls and floor and smashed into the hall, sealing the entrance.

“There,” he said. “Now we can have a chat without interruption. And if you can’t help me…” He looked over his shoulder. “There’s some new candidates just outside.”

She could only make out blue eyes, the rest of his face covered by a demonic mask.

“You’re…you’re Cain,” she stammered.

Others who’d encountered him before told her stories—the bogeyman, devourer of Anunnaki, Gwynn from some alternate world. She’d only been in the same room with him for the briefest moment after escaping the Veil—and she’d only known after the fact. She trembled under his frozen stare. Even having the testimony of others who swore this man was Gwynn, she couldn’t see any of the person she knew.

“Yes, I would be,” he answered. “It helps, you knowing who I am. You should be far more inclined to answer my questions.”

Marie tried to draw a thin line of energy from the Veil to heal herself.

Cain’s hand smacked down on her head, crushing her cheek painfully to the floor.

“Did I say you could heal yourself? Stop, or I’ll just end our conversation now and ask someone else.”

How could he know? I took so little. I was so careful.

She let the energies slide away and closed her connection.

Cain nodded slowly.

“Good. Impulsive, but not stupid. That can be worked with.”

He released her head, righted a fallen chair, and sat.

“Now, I’ll ask you a simple question,” he said. “The Anunnaki known as Adrastia came here not long ago. I want to know why.”

How could he know? Did they have a traitor amongst them?

“I don’t—”

Marie howled as Cain’s foot crushed down on her hand, breaking several bones.

“Let’s be clear,” Cain said, “you already have several internal injuries. If you don’t get them tended to soon, you will most likely die. But until then, you still have numerous bones and organs I can crush. We are both Anunnaki. We’re practically…family.” A sly, mirthless laugh escaped his lips. “I take little pleasure in causing you pain. I just want a simple answer, and I’ll be on my way. Then you can use as much of that wonderful Veil energy as you wish to heal yourself.”

He lifted his foot from her crushed hand and returned to his chair.

“There’s no need for you to die. I know Adrastia isn’t here any longer, or I’d be having this conversation with her. I just want to know why, after years of being trapped with me in the Veil, she would come here first? What was so important she had to wallow in this filthy place?”

Marie coughed, an audible rattle came from her chest. She spat out blood and a tooth.

“She wanted us to help her steal some information,” she said.

Cain clapped his hands together three times.

“Very good,” he said. “You’re already far more useful than either of those two. And what kind of information was it?”

Marie chanced another look at the masked face. She could hear his voice changing, alternating between patronization and a near parental coaxing. But his eyes remained changeless—cold and dead. With everything else hidden by his mask, it gave the disconcerting feeling his words came from somewhere else. She could move so fast, yet he moved faster—like he was everywhere at once—his body in front of her, his voice somewhere, everywhere, else.

“Myths,” she answered.

She could probably summon enough strength for a final burst of speed. Even if she missed, even if he killed her, it would be preferable than just lying here helplessly answering his questions. But what would her death gain? No one in Fenrir was on this level. She doubted anyone anywhere was. He would just indiscriminately kill until he had his answers, or was knee deep in bodies. Better her pride receive a mortal blow than let any more of her people die.

“She said they were about Ragnarok—that they could help us defeat Woten.”

Cain leaned forward.

“She never believed in prophesy before. What made her change her mind?”

“I don’t know. She just said it was going to happen.” Every word came out in a gasp. Every gasp hurt like a new stab wound.

“And where are these files?” Cain asked.

“In the computer, next room over.”

Cain pointed toward the wall behind her.

“Over there?”

“Yes.”

He stood and walked past her line of sight. She couldn’t summon enough strength to turn her head.

There was a rumble and rocks falling to the ground. A moment later, Cain stepped back in front of her.

“This computer?” he asked.

She didn’t need to look, they only had one. A computer couldn’t give them light, water, food, or transportation, so it was an unnecessary luxury.

“Yes.”

Cain sat in the chair and rested the computer on his knees. He tapped away at the keyboard and stared at the screen.

“Ah, I see. Herodotus.”

Cain laughed.

“All these years. The answer was right here. I ignored it for the same reason Adrastia did—this man was an old fool with lousy research methods. But it appears I underestimated him.”

He snapped the laptop shut.

“Thank you,” he said. “See, things are so much easier when we’re honest with each other. I’m going to leave now. Once I’m gone, you feel free to heal yourself.”

He came closer to her face.

“What was your name?” he asked.

“Marie.”

He nodded thoughtfully.

“I’ll remember that.”

Reality rippled around him and he disappeared from sight.

Marie tore into the Veil and gorged herself on its healing energies. When she felt safe enough to move, she reached for the tooth she’d spit out. Her hands started to shake as soon she saw the blood covering them. Not even her own blood. She couldn’t force herself to look at Richards.

She leaned against the wall, easing the flow from the Veil, but not yet healed enough to cut it off entirely.

The stone barrier Cain had blocked the entrance with rumbled and exploded into the room. Brandt charged in, his hands encased in his gauntlets. Caelum followed closely behind with his bow drawn.

“Shit,” Brandt said, surveying the room and the bodies of Davies and Richards.

Seeing Marie, he rushed to her side.

“Geezus, Marie. Are you ok?”

She nodded.

“I just need a few more minutes,” she said.

“Caelum, check her out.”

Caelum let his bow fade back to the Veil. He placed his hand gently against the side of her head—it felt soft and warm. After a minute, he moved his hand to her shoulder, and then her outer thigh.

“She’s fine,” he said. “But from what I’m sensing, she must’ve been pretty badly injured.”

“Where is the son of a bitch?” Brandt said. “I’ll kill him.”

“It was Cain,” Marie said.

Brandt’s bravado fell.

“Cain? Damn.”

“What was he doing here?” Caelum asked.

“He wanted to know why Adrastia paid us a visit. I told him. He took the computer and the USB stick.”

Brandt punched a hole in the wall.

“So unless Jason miraculously comes back with Takeda’s Solution, we’ve come out with shit.”

Marie smiled.

“I said he took the computer and USB stick. I never said anything about the hard copies I had made.”

A plump, fleshy hand, delivered a series of soft taps against Gwynn’s cheek.

“Hello?” a feminine voice said. “We know you’re still alive in there, child. How about you open your eyes a bit.”

Gwynn’s eyelids creaked open, as though fighting the glue of days worth of sleep.

“Who are you?”

How long had he been here? Where was Xanthe?

The woman who’d been tapping away at his face leaped off the shoulders of a much older woman. The two sat down at a table set several feet from the foot of the tree where Gwynn was pinned.

A third girl—because she was many years younger than the other two, perhaps in her early teens—sat at the table with knitting needles clicking away. The other two women joined her. The slappy one could’ve been the teen’s mother—full hips and bosom, a woman not overweight, but no stranger to taste-testing her concoctions in the kitchen. The third filled the role of grandmother—stooped forward with age, her hair thin and silver, hanging down, partly covering her face.