“You think they were after something else?”
“I can’t begin to think that the void or elemental were particularly highly trained. It felt like they were the kind of people you’d send on an easy errand. And killing me is probably not on that list.” I paused for a moment, before continuing. “Can you look into the hostages? I’m sure the human police took details of everyone.”
“I can, but shouldn’t you be asking someone who still works within Avalon’s immediate structure?”
“You mean Agent Kelly Jensen? I find it odd that the SOA were there in the first place. She mentioned that one of the hostage takers had ties to Avalon. Something feels off here. There’s too much we don’t know about the hostage takers and why they decided to go to West Quay, of all places, to get to me. And I think the SOA know more than Agent Jensen is letting on.”
“I can ask around. There are a few people I trust who work for Olivia in Winchester. Who, by the way, should probably be informed of this—she is still the director of the LOA in the South of England.”
“She’s in Avalon with Tommy and Kasey. I’d rather not bother her unless we need to.”
Grayson looked as if he were about to say no and leave, but he nodded instead. “I’ll get something for you in a day or so. Just stay here until then.” He upended the contents of the bag onto my bed. Clean clothes, jeans, a blue T-shirt, boxers, and socks all stared back at me. They were a beautiful sight.
“I grabbed some stuff from Tommy’s office for when he changes,” Grayson explained. “I figured he’d be okay with you having them when you’re ready to leave.”
“Thanks for all of this,” I said. “But hurry back. I don’t think whoever these guys are, that they’re anywhere near done.”
It took a total of four hours before my plan of staying in place and waiting for Grayson to return was blown all to hell. To be fair, I really did plan on staying in the hospital until I’d gotten what I needed, and then I was going to leave whether they liked it or not. For the first hour I watched TV. The news was on a constant repeat of the day’s events, with little, if any new information actually being explained to the viewers. I flicked through a few channels and found some Wile-E-Coyote cartoons, which served me well as a diversion.
I’d always liked Wile-E-Coyote. He was persistent, inventive, and interesting. Okay, he was as dumb as a bag of hammers, but you couldn’t blame the guy for really wanting to eat that Roadrunner, who was, from my point of view, a colossal fucking asshole. Wile should have just blown its head off with a Mossberg and called it a day. To be fair, he probably tried that and hurt himself.
The cartoon finished and was replaced by one starring Tweety Bird, who was probably the single most annoying character ever created that didn’t have the words Jar-Jar in his name. Tommy might have been trying to get me to love Star Wars as much as he did, but there was pretty much no chance in hell that even Tommy loved that stupid fucker. He should have been shot into the nearest sun at the first available opportunity.
Eventually I gave up watching TV as apparently cartoon characters made me angrier than was probably normal, so I settled for playing on my phone while it charged. Due to the tiny amount of magic I was using to keep the venom at bay, I was fairly groggy, and so didn’t see the door open, nor anyone step inside until they walked toward me.
I placed my phone back on the bedside cabinet, and eyed the emergency button.
The void stood at the foot of my bed, pointing the tip of a dagger at me. “If you press it, I’ll be forced to kill whoever comes in here. I already had to kill the two guards to get to you; I’d rather not kill innocent doctors and nurses unless I have no choice.”
I gave the void my full attention. “How’s the wound?”
He raised his hand to his shoulder. “They brought me here after I was arrested, but they say they can’t use magic on me to heal me too quickly. My power rejects it. They’ve done enough so that I can use my arm, but the pain will be there for a long time to come.”
“Good. Let me know how that goes. You should write a blog about it, I’m sure it’ll be riveting.”
“I had to kill the two guards who were watching me upstairs too; they were both LOA, I believe. They didn’t believe I was a threat. I guess they were wrong, although I don’t think I’ll have long before more agents are sent here. I have just enough time to slit your throat with this silver dagger.”
A moment later and my magic simply stopped working. Panic settled inside of me. I didn’t have long before the effects of the venom would once again take control.
“I want you to feel some pain first,” he said and sat beside me.
My head spun, and heat began creeping up my chest and neck. It suddenly felt as if my muscles were on fire.
“I’ve heard it hurts,” the void said. “I’ve heard it’s agonizing.”
“Go. Fuck. You—” I managed before the pain wracked me once again. I swung my legs over the bed and tried to stand up, but my body had other ideas and I crashed back to the bed as the void laughed from behind me.
“I could watch this all night,” he told me, and got to his feet, wandering around the bed toward me. “But it’s time to die now.”
He bent down, the knife only inches away from me, when I grabbed the remote control from beside me and smashed it into the side of his head. It knocked his head aside and he dropped his knife, but his power didn’t waver, and he dragged me from the bed, throwing me to the floor. He punched me in the side of the mouth, busting my lip open.
Any strength in my body left as the pain of the venom made my vision darken. I tried to push myself up, but the void kicked out at my elbow and I fell, face first, back to the tiled floor. The void kicked me in the ribs, forcing me to roll onto my back. I raised my hand in a weak attempt to fend off further attacks, but he grabbed my arm, locking it, and pressed his knee down across my throat.
I fought for breath, but the void’s weight made it impossible. Clawing at his leg did nothing but gain me another punch to the mouth. I was going to die in a hospital room by someone who had no right to last ten seconds in a fight with me. Rage filled me and I opened my eyes wide, staring up at the void, while I struggled beneath his grip. I punched up with everything I had, hoping to connect with his gut. Fortunately, I hit something a bit lower.
It wasn’t exactly a killing blow, but it was enough to ensure he dropped his concentration for a moment as he roared out in pain and released my arm. My glyphs instantly flared to life. I drove a blade of fire through his knee, immediately extinguishing it as the use of magic once again overwhelmed my exhausted body. The void, now unbalanced, crashed to the floor at the foot of the bed, screaming obscenities at me as he held his bloody limb.
I took a few moments to stop the room from spinning and then gingerly got to my feet. I’d reapplied the air magic, and was using it to increase my speed and agility, as opposed to just having the magic evaporate into nothing as the runes in the room had done. I was soon beginning to feel more like my old self.
I saw that the knife the void had been using had skittered under the bed, but I didn’t really have time to fish it out as he dragged himself toward the door, leaving a bloody smear in his wake.
“Who do you work for?” I asked, and took a step toward the void, who ignored me and continued to crawl away.
I grabbed him by his shirt and dragged him upright, slamming him up against the nearest wall, and then head-butting him to ensure his concentration didn’t return anytime soon. He slid down the wall with more blood running down his face.
“Don’t make me ask again,” I snapped.
“We’re all coming for you,” he said, a hideous grin on his face. “You can’t beat us all.”
I grabbed him by his ears and lifted him off the ground, much to his obvious discomfort.
“Last chance.”
He spat blood onto the light blue hospital bed shirt I wore, getting it right on my chest. I punched him in the kidney and he spat up more blood
, although this time it was onto the floor between us.
Holding him by the back of his collar, I dragged him over to the hospital room’s door, pushing him roughly against it. There was a bag on the floor beside it, which I hadn’t noticed before. I held the void upright with one hand and picked up the bag, which was unzipped. The gleaming metal of a gun shone through the darkness of the bag. I picked the gun out and upended the bag onto the floor. It contained a mixture of drugs and magazines of bullets.
I removed my hand, letting him fall as I stepped back, and checked the gun, which was loaded. “No, not this way,” I said, more to myself than to him and drove a wall of air into his chest. He crashed through the door and into the hallway outside.
Pieces of wood and plastic littered the ground as I stepped through the ruined door. The corridor was silent, I saw a body lying further up it, but kept my gaze firmly on the man before me. The void was barely moving, but his eyes were still open, still locked on me with a stare of hatred.
“What did I do to you?” I asked.
“You should have never interfered in our plans. In our quest. We will have our revenge.”
“You want to tell me who you are?” I raised the gun. “Who sent you here? Why were you in West Quay? What were you looking for? You got me to West Quay to kill me. It’s a lot of trouble.”
“No trouble at all. Your death, in full public, was to be a message to our enemies. We are coming for all of them. And there’s nowhere you can hide, even in full view with the world watching.”
“If you wanted me dead, why coat the blade with a slow-acting poison?”
“We were prepared in case you fought back. To weaken you and then kill you, it would have been glorious.”
“Your elemental friend is dead; your griffin friend is missing. It’s just you. How do you want this to end?”
“I told you before that you wouldn’t kill me, and you didn’t. You need answers, and I can’t give them to you if I’m dead.” He raised the sleeve of his shirt, showing a dark mark. “It scrambles our spirit’s memories upon death. There’s no way you can kill me and get what you desire most. The knowledge of who we are.”
I stared at the mark for a heartbeat. I’d seen it before, on several people over the centuries. The last time had been on someone evil, a man consumed with his own need to destroy and kill for pleasure.
“Show me your full arm,” I demanded.
The void smirked, but did as he was asked, unbuttoning his shirt and dragging his arm free, showing me the mark I’d dreaded to see on his shoulder. The black-bladed scythe in front of an eye with a blood-red iris.
“You know who we are,” he said with just a little joy in his voice. “If you want more, you’ll have to take me alive.”
I heard footsteps from my side and turned slightly, to watch Heather run around the nearest corner, flanked by two large guards. She immediately crouched by the man the void had killed on his way to get me.
I glanced back at the void, who hadn’t moved.
“Put the gun down,” Heather shouted at me. “This is a hospital.”
I ignored her. “I don’t need you for anything,” I told him and shot him three times in the head.
I immediately dropped the gun and walked back into my room, pulling off my bloody hospital shirt and putting on the clean clothes that Grayson had brought for me.
Heather stormed into the room as I finished pulling my T-shirt over my head. “This is a hospital,” she screamed at me. “A place of healing.”
“And a place of death,” I pointed out, feeling slightly light-headed after the revelation I’d discovered. “I just saved him the time of having to live through the healing part of his stay.”
I put my phone and wallet into my jeans pockets and strolled out past her. The Reavers were back. And that meant all kinds of trouble for me.
CHAPTER 5
November 1888. London.
After what had happened in the alley, Alan and I left the bodies of the two SOA agents where they lay and went back to the safe house. London was ruled over by Brutus, who considered himself the king of the city. When he’d first arrived in England after the fall of Troy, he’d spent some time killing all of the giants who’d lived here at the time, and then getting into a confrontation with Merlin. It had resulted in Merlin allowing Brutus to stay in the country, but only in London.
Brutus had a network of runners who gave messages to him for a fee. I managed to find one of the Whitechapel runners and told him about the two agents. Brutus would arrange for them to be taken care of, at least until they could be collected by others within Avalon.
“Is it wise involving Brutus?” Alan asked, as he washed the blood off his body in the back garden of the house. Luckily it was still dark, so there would be very few people around to complain about the naked, blood-covered man washing himself.
“It’s not like we had too many options,” I pointed out. “We couldn’t leave the bodies there indefinitely, and besides, Avalon isn’t allowed to have people in the city without Brutus’s permission.”
“Yeah, but he’s going to know everything now.”
“Well, I’m sure he’ll want to discuss it all. But we probably have a while before that, so we’d best get on and find out who that man was, and why he attacked us. Also, why didn’t he kill us?”
“And why did he write From Hell on your forehead in your comrade’s blood. Don’t want to miss that bit,” Alan said and tipped the metal bowl full of now red water onto the grass.
“Thanks for the reminder,” I said with as much sarcasm as I could muster. Scrubbing off the bloody writing was the first thing I’d done when returning to the house. “Do you remember anything else about what happened?”
Alan thought for a moment. “He had a mark on his forearm, a tattoo.”
“Of what?”
“I only glimpsed it in the light of the torch one of those SOA agents was carrying. An eye of some sort, but there was something in front of it. Sorry, that’s all I got. Does that mean anything to you?”
I shook my head. “Not that I can recall. Lots of tattoos have eyes in them. Lots of organizations tattoo their members. It’s basically a needle in a haystack. How’d you see it anyway? He was wearing a long coat.”
“Not when we arrived he wasn’t. He only put that on after killing the agents. He was wearing a dress shirt, but the sleeves were rolled up. Who wears an expensive shirt to go murdering?”
“Someone who thinks it’ll be easier to get victims from around here if he looks the part of a wealthy john.”
“You think the woman was a prostitute?”
I nodded. “That would be my guess.”
“Why do you want to help?” I asked after a few moments of silence. “I know you said you were never going to kill the agents, but why help me? What do you honestly get from it?”
Alan was quiet, and for a second I didn’t think he would answer, or that he would lie and tell me some frivolous tale about being chivalrous or wanting to be the better man.
“I saw the look on his face while I lay in the dirt and watched him butcher two people. I saw the joy and excitement it brought him. I was scared. I was helpless and scared, and I thought I was going to die in this shithole of a city lying in the dirt and blood and semen of however many others frequented that alley. I want to pay him back for that. I want to show him what I can do when I’m not helpless. But more than anything, I want to make sure no one else sees those eyes before he carves them up.”
Alan wiped his face with the palm of his hand and walked off into the house, leaving me to sit on the makeshift wooden bench and stare up at the fading moonlight.
Alan returned a few seconds later. “There’s someone here for you. She’s pretty, but I already know she despises me, so I’ll wait out here. If this is the caliber of visitors we’re going to get in the middle of the night, I may have to stick around after we’ve caught these bastards. She’s in the . . . whatever passes for a drawing room in this pla
ce.”
I moved past him without comment; there was really little point in replying to him, it would only create the impression that I wished for him to continue discussing the matter. I walked through the house to the front room, opening the door to be greeted by a woman of staggering beauty.
“Diana,” I said with a smile just before being enveloped in a hug.
“It’s good to see you, Nathan,” she said, her Italian accent just creeping into the words.
Diana, the Roman goddess of the moon and hunting, and probably other things I couldn’t recall, was one of the most beautiful women on the planet. Her long, dark hair was loose over her shoulders. She wore a simple blue top with dark trousers, which wouldn’t have looked as good on anyone else.
“I assume this isn’t a social call,” I said and offered her a seat on one of the two leather chairs in the room.
She nodded a thank you and sat down. I removed a bottle of red wine and two glasses from a cupboard next to an old fireplace that would probably turn into a death trap should it ever be lit, and passed a half full glass to Diana, before pouring my own.
“The wine was unnecessary,” she said as she savored the smell. “But thank you.”
“I remember you like your red wine, and if you’re bringing bad news, I figured it might be pleasant to have something nice to go along with the unpleasant.”
We toasted and both drank a measure. I wasn’t a wine connoisseur. To me, if the wine tasted like wine and didn’t make me want to vomit, it was good enough to drink. But Diana preferred wine over almost any other alcoholic drink, and, as she smiled, I knew she appreciated the bottle I’d uncorked for us.
“You sent me two bodies tonight,” Diana said.
“That I did. Although I assumed they were going to be Brutus’s problem, not yours.”
“Brutus very kindly gave the problem to me to sort out. In fact, I believe his exact words were ‘Sort this shit out before we get more Avalon bastards running around.’ He was quite animated in his speech.”