Vesik 3 Winter's Demon (16 page)

A fireball rose to meet the car, engulfing its entirety in hellish flame. I swear I heard a short scream before the metal squealed and the car exploded in a hail of burning fragments. I could hear the hissing as the flames reached the river, could hear the splashes as larger pieces fell into the water.

“We need to look for survivors,” Mike said. He took a step toward the river before Zola put a hand on his shoulder.

She shook her head. “There are no survivors. Ah can see the dead from here. A child and his father.”

Mike’s head fell and he slid the hammer back into his belt.

What happened next is something I will not soon forget. A cry tore through the heavens, piercing like an eagle, but a hundred, a thousand times louder. Wings whispered above us before the Thunderbird landed on the bridge with a crash. Concrete and steel groaned beneath its bulk. The Thunderbird leaned back, spread its wings toward the heavens, and lightning stormed from its eyes. One second, a crash of thunder and light, the next, silence.

The Thunderbird vanished as we continued to jog toward the bridge. There was no sign of the creature as we set foot onto the expanse. The river below us and our heavy breathing were the only sounds I could make out.

“Why did it do that?” James asked.

Edgar wandered forward, inspecting the incinerated corpses of the necromancers on the bridge as he went. Their bodies were strewn among scorched and exploded concrete. Vassili and Vik followed close behind Edgar. The rest of us trailed behind them.

“Balance, James,” Edgar said. “Always balance. There are far more men here wishing to do the world harm than there are those of us trying to stop them.”

“That doesn’t mean they’re stronger than us!” James said, his voice rising in pitch and volume. “What if it tried to balance the power instead? You’re insane! That thing could have killed us just as readily as it killed those necromancers.” His voice trailed off to a whisper as he apparently realized he was shouting.

“He does have a point,
da?”
Vassili said as he glanced over the edge of the bridge.

Edgar’s mouth was in a flat line as he glanced back at the vampire, and then James.

“I meant no disrespect,” James said as he squeezed his shoulder, sending a small avalanche of snow down his sleeve. “We’ve just lost so many Watchers.”

“I know,” Edgar said as he turned away. “Don’t forget we need allies.”

James frowned slightly, and then seemed to shake something off as he followed Edgar.

“Did you see that?” Vik asked as he pointed toward the darkened lot of the casino in the distance.

Vassili nodded. “There is movement. Four, maybe five running. Hard to tell.”

“You can see that far?” Mike asked, sounding impressed. “I can’t make anything out in this light.”

Vassili nodded.

“Running for the cemetery,” Zola said. “We need to move.”

“We need to be careful,” Mike said. “They’ve already had plenty of time to do whatever the distraction was meant to buy them time for. Having us rush headlong into it may be exactly what they plan.”

Regardless, Mike stepped up his pace in time with Zola. We were moving at a slow jog as we reached the other side of the bridge. The old town was utterly unnerving in the silent, unlit night. The snow picked up, further obscuring our view as the wind whispered along the bricks.

Edgar held up his right hand, fist closed. He was silent until we crept up beside him.

“Next intersection, two men ran to the west, around to the right. Stick to the building.”

I glanced to the right and saw six columns, blacker than the sky behind them. The war memorial wasn’t very old, but it drew many ghosts. Gray forms huddled around the center column, which was crowned with a black eagle. One of the ghosts held its hand up and glided toward me, insubstantial legs seeming to hover across the ground as I opened my Sight.

“You can see me, yes?” the ghost asked.

I nodded. “You’ve seen necromancers before?”

He was a young man with square features. I think the uniform placed him in World War I. He cocked his head to the side and frowned. “Necro-what?”

“People like me, who can talk to the dead?”

He nodded. “The civvies, they’re in an uproar, said someone’s killing them at the cemetery.” He shook his head. “That can’t be right though. We’re already dead. We can’t die again, can we?”

I hesitated, and I saw his eyes widen.

“We’re here to stop them.”

He paused and then nodded slowly. “I … believe you.” He nodded again, apparently convincing himself. “A man and his wife, strange folks, said they were wolves and we should trust the old woman and her whippersnapper.”

A small chuckle from Zola briefly interrupted the ghost.

“There are two behind this block,” the ghost said, indicating the building beside us. “There are two more on the roof.

“I’ve been told there are seven left in the cemetery. You killed the rest on the bridge. What was that light?”

“A Thunderbird,” I said, too stressed to think of a cover story.

He crossed himself like a Catholic. “Like the old Indian legends?”

“Yes, exactly like that. Stay the hell away from it if you see it.”

He nodded rapidly and began to drift back to the memorial, probably to warn the rest of the gathered spirits. “If those men can truly kill us again, please stop them.”

“We will,” I said.

“Two on the roof, two behind the building, seven in the cemetery,” I said to Edgar.

He blinked, barely masking the surprise on his face. “You spoke to someone?”

I bared my teeth in a savage grin, “Or I lost my mind and started talking to myself. Take your pick.”

“Leave the roof to us,” Vik said.

Vassili nodded and leapt onto the brick wall. Sam and Vik scrambled up the brick wall behind him.

“Dimitry, come with us please,” Edgar said as he motioned to James. Dad didn’t argue, just followed them towards the back of the building.

The fairies split up, Cara going with the vampires, Cassie with the Watchers. Foster and Aideen stayed with us.

“Graveyard,” Zola said. Mike and I picked up the pace and jogged along behind her.

Foster swooped down onto my shoulder, followed by Aideen. They both tucked themselves under the flap of my collar. It was a thin shield against the snow and cold, but better than nothing.

“Alright,” Foster said, “So Carter was here. Where is he now?”

“I think we can guess,” Aideen said. “Let’s just hope he’s okay.”

We almost made it to South Street, running in relative silence, a thin layer of snow deadening our footfalls. Zola threw her hands out as we came to Sycamore Street. We were exposed, with an open lot to our left and a gas station looming just to our right. A torrent of flame erupted from the hill beside the pumps and widened into a wall of fire as it bore down on us, orange and red bursts bright enough to blind our night-adjusted vision.

“Impadda!”
Zola and I cried at once. Both of our shields snapped into being, but it wouldn’t be enough against the heat bearing down on us.

Foster cursed and then Mike leapt out in front of us, arms thrown wide. He opened his mouth, flexing his chest and drawing air in like some terrible, rasping machine. The wall of fire collapsed in on itself before it ever reached us, rotating and vanishing into Mike’s open jaws with a snap and a fizzle. He belched and I half expected smoke to rise from his mouth.

“What the hell was that?” I said. I’d seen Zola throw some mean fire spells around, but she’d never unleashed anything close to the wall of flame we’d just witnessed. The frozen grass on the hill was on fire, defrosted and lit up in the span of a few seconds.

“Blood mage,” she said. “He’s going to be hurting after that.”

“He’s going to be dead,” Foster said as he and Aideen shot ahead into the night.

Another series of blasts came. They missed the fairies by a mile.

“Run!” Mike yelled as he pulled me and Zola into a flat sprint despite our protests.

I realized why a moment later. The mage hadn’t missed a goddamn thing. The streamers of fire tore away the gas pumps and asphalt and ignited the storage tanks beneath the earth. We were thrown to our knees a moment later as sharp, fiery bits pierced my skin and slapped against my leather jacket while the blinding fireball expanded and blackened and shook the ground like an earthquake.

“Foster!” I screamed as I scrambled to get up. “Aideen!”

“Damian, no!”

I heard Zola, but I didn’t listen. My staff was in one hand and the pepperbox in the other as I circled around the exploded station. Fires were already spreading through the surrounding homes. People were in the streets now, more exposed, more at risk. Panicked and disorganized as their night worsened.

I glimpsed movement beyond the flames. A glint of orange as a sword reflected the inferno beside it. Aideen. Her left wing was burned. Bits and embers were still falling from it as she lunged and dodged the blood mage’s attacks. Both the man’s arms were christened in blood, his athame held ready to cut himself once more.

Foster was leaning against a tree, crumpled. His left arm was folded beneath him. I saw him move, just a little, and my pace picked up. I barely noticed the flames licking at my jeans. The pepperbox rose. I slowed my stride, inhaled, and squeezed the trigger as I exhaled. The explosion was only a pop next to the raging inferno. The blood mage’s head jerked to the side as blood and bone left the opposite side of his skull. He fell, and I started to run to Aideen.

“Get me to Foster,” she said. “Something hit him. Don’t know how bad.”

I got my shoulder under her arm and we shuffled toward Foster. I thought I saw the blood mage twitch, so I aimed the pepperbox and pulled the second trigger. The five remaining rounds riddled his upper body in one vicious boom.

People started screaming. I heard calls go out for an ambulance, calls for the police. Most people just ran.

I helped Aideen settle in beside Foster. Blood was pouring down his left arm as I turned him over.

“Hurts,” he said through gritted teeth. “Won’t stop.”

I guessed he meant the blood. I hadn’t bothered to drop my Sight, and when I looked at the gash running from his shoulder to his bicep I could see something in it. Short, its stubby body pulsed and writhed, flaring in a sickly black and red aura. It reminded me of the godforsaken thing we’d cut out of Carter not so long ago.

“What the fuck is that?” I asked.

“Move,” Mike said. He reached out and grabbed the thing. It resisted as he tried to rip it out of Foster, but it tore away with chunks of flesh and blood. “Bloody leeches. Mage must have been insane to call one of these.”

Foster grunted and fell backwards.

“Foster, Foster!” Aideen screamed as she jumped toward him. Her incantation lit up the night as soon as she landed beside him.
“Socius Sanation!”
The light was blinding and I looked away, toward Mike.

He frowned, disgust twisting his face as he pulled the hammer out and dropped the fat worm on the ground. Mike brought the hammer down immediately, smashing the gaping black hole at the front of the creature. It stiffened and then went still before dissipating in ribbons of black and red.

“What was that?” I asked as I turned away from the demon and started for the fairies.

“Later,” Mike said as he raised his hand. Some of the flames that had found their way into the homes dimmed and seemed to rush toward the fire demon. Mike gasped and his shoulders slumped. “I can’t put it all out. It’s not natural.”

“Do what you can,” Zola said as she knelt beside the fairies, checking them both over.

“We’re no good right now,” Aideen muttered. “Too much energy.”

Zola nodded. “Get in the trees, away from the fire. Get back to the mansion if you can.”

“Kill him,” Foster whispered.

“We will,” Zola said as she stood up and started jogging toward the cemetery again. Mike and I followed in silence.

It wasn’t long before we turned onto South Street, heading straight for the cemetery gates.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“W
e’re just walking through the front door?” I asked as the arched, wrought iron gateway loomed into view.

“Yes, Ah intend to finish this,” Zola said.

A flicker of gray caught my eye, and when I focused on it, Maggie materialized in a glow of golden light.

“She’s a stubborn old bitch, isn’t she?” Maggie said.

Mike muffled a laugh and Zola glanced back at him. Her eyes narrowed and he cut off immediately with a whisper-quiet cough.

“Maggie,” Zola said. “Ah’m glad you’re okay. Don’t make me do bad things to you.”

Maggie smiled as she said, “You were right. They tried to attack us but they couldn’t touch me or Carter.”

“What?” I hissed. “What are you talking about? I told you both to stay the hell away from them.”

Maggie went on like I hadn’t said a word. “We couldn’t touch them either. I don’t know what you ever saw in that cockless bastard Zola. I could kill him just to shut him up.”

“The thought crossed my mind on occasion,” Zola said.

“Why can’t they touch each other?” I asked.

“Glad Foster’s not here to respond to that,” Mike said.

My lips started quirk of their own accord and Zola shook her head.

“Boy, it’s because you bound your soul to them,” Zola said. “Now it’s spreading like the pox. Most of the Ghost Pack glows like a goddamned balefire in the dead of night.”

I started to ask a question.

“Not now,” she snapped. “Now we kill Philip. Later we worry about what in God’s name you did to those ghosts.” She stalked off through the gates.

My jaw snapped closed and I started after her.

“Wise choice,” Mike said.

I sighed and quickened my steps to catch Maggie. “How many?”

“Three necromancers, maybe a dozen zombies,” she said. “Also some of those vampiric half-breeds too. I don’t like those.”

“You and me both. You want to send up a signal flare, Mike?

He pulled the Smith’s Hammer from his belt and raised it to the sky. It grew, increasing in mass and presence as flames burst from the head and Mike supported it across his torso with two hands.