lashed out toward me like a whip. It coiled around my neck and Enan grunted as he yanked me forward. I slammed face-first onto the cobblestones and got to listen to a few of my ribs break for good measure.
This wasn’t exactly going as well as I’d hoped.
The Giggler decided to get into the act then. Thin tendrils of wire uncoiled from around his arms and came snaking through the air toward me. Like Narda’s, electricity coruscated up and down the length of the Giggler’s wires, but unlike hers, his streaked toward my mouth. I realized then that the bastard intended to cook me from the inside out.
I clamped my mouth shut tight and struggled to roll over onto my side. I would’ve pinched my nostrils shut to prevent the Giggler’s wires from entering me that way, but I only had one hand free, and I had a more important use for it. I reached into my jacket and groped for something else that might fend off the vampires, but before I could get hold of anything they started shrieking anew. I looked up and saw that Devona had retrieved my squirt gun and was dousing the Red Tide members with my holy water and garlic combo.
“For godsakes, be careful!” I warned. “You don’t want to get any of that stuff on you!”
The three tech-vampires retracted their cables and wires, releasing me. She and the other two vamps didn’t look so hot. Their faces were a mass of burns, and their combination hi-tech and magic body suits were starting to short circuit, throwing off showers of miniature fireworks.
The vampires staggered to their feet and stumbled off, howling in pain. At the end of the street, Narda turned, and fixed us with a hate-filled stare from her single remaining eye.
“The Red Tide’s going to store this in permanent memory, fuckers! Bet on it!” Then she turned and continued running after the other two, leaving us alone on the streets of Gothtown. They were vampires; their injuries would heal eventually. But it was going to take some time.
I pushed myself to my feet with my left arm, and stepped over to Devona. She still pointed the squirt gun in the direction the Red Tide vamps had gone, holding it in an iron grip. Her entire body shook, and her breath came in ragged gasps. I’d only fired my weapon twice in the line of duty when I was cop-before coming to Nekropolis, that is-but I understood what Devona was feeling.
“Why don’t you give that back to me before you break it and that crap leaks all over your hands?”
She looked at the gun as if realizing for the first time what she was holding, and she handed it over to me gingerly, like it was a live grenade. I suppose for a vampire-even a half-vampire-it was.
I checked the water level, saw that the squirt gun was almost empty, and then replaced it in my jacket pocket.
“Thanks for taking care of those three, Devona. You probably saved my unlife.” At least for another day or two, I added mentally.
“I didn’t think about it; I just grabbed the gun off the ground and started shooting.” She sounded amazed, as if surprised by her own actions. “Where in Nekropolis did you get holy water, anyway? It’s extremely illegal. If Father Dis found out-” She stopped and looked at me in horror. “The Hidden Light! You’re a member of the Hidden Light!”
She started backing away and I held up a hand-my right one-to calm her. It was a little hard to control, thanks to Narda sizzling my arm, but it still worked. “Take it easy. I’m not one of the Hidden Light, but from time to time they supply me with certain items I can’t get any other way.”
That didn’t do much to reassure her. “They’re a terrorist version of the Inquisition, Matthew: radical Christians completely dedicated to the destruction of Nekropolis and the Darkfolk by any means necessary!”
“I don’t condone their actions, but if it wasn’t for them, I wouldn’t have been able to get me hands on the holy water that just helped save your butt.”
“I don’t care what your reasons are. It’s because of people like them that my kind had to leave Earth in the first place. People like them-and like you.” She looked at me like I was the lowest form of life imaginable.
I knew the intensity of Devona’s reaction was an emotional aftereffect of the battle we’d just survived-most likely the first she’d ever fought-but despite that I couldn’t control my rising anger.
“If you don’t want my help anymore, just say so. Maybe you’ll get lucky and the Dawnstone will just show up on its own. And if it doesn’t, maybe Lord Galm will have mercy and kill you quickly.” It was a rotten thing to say, and I immediately wanted take it back, but I didn’t know how. I’ve never been good at apologies.
Devona was silent for a few moments, and I could tell that she was considering walking away and being done with me. But in the end her dedication to her job-and fear of her father-won out.
She let out a long sigh and then in a tired voice said, ““All right. Where to now?”
I was glad she stayed. I needed her to intercede with her father on my behalf, get him to use his powers, or his influence with the other Lords or even Father Dis himself, to save my undead excuse for an existence. Not because it mattered to me what happened to her…and definitely not because I was starting to care for her.
Honest.
“We head back to the Sprawl,” I said. “To find Varma and-with any luck-the Dawnstone.”
EIGHT
I wouldn’t have been all that unhappy if Lazlo had shown up then, truth to tell. I wasn’t looking forward to battling the crowds in the Sprawl again. But of course he didn’t, and so we had no choice but to walk. There were no coaches or cars for hire in Gothtown that night; they’d all been previously engaged by Bloodborn for transportation to the Cathedral.
To pass the time, and more importantly because it might have something to do with why the Dawnstone was stolen, I asked Devona to tell me everything she knew about the Renewal Ceremony. I was familiar with the basics-every Nekropolitan was-but I hoped that as the daughter of a Darklord, she might be able to provide more insight into the specifics.
“The river Phlegethon, the air we breathe, and in some ways the city itself are all maintained by the power of Umbriel. When the Darkfolk first came to this dimension, Father Dis and the five Lords created the shadowsun and set it above the Nightspire to sustain their people in their new home. But Umbriel isn’t eternal; it needs to be recharged once a year.”
“And thus the Renewal Ceremony,” I said.
She nodded. “The five Darklords conserve their powers for months and then, on the anniversary of the Descension they gather in the Nightspire along with Father Dis to perform the rite which will revitalize Umbriel. Nekropolis’s most illustrious citizens are invited to witness the ceremony. I never have, though. My rank among the Bloodborn isn’t high enough to merit an invitation.” She said this quietly, without self pity. “Do you think there’s a connection between the theft of the Dawnstone and the Renewal Ceremony?”
“Maybe,” I answered. “The Darklords don’t particularly like being equal; they’re always trying to gain an advantage over each other.”
That’s what caused the Bloodwars two hundred years ago, and though a lasting peace was finally negotiated-or, as I’ve heard it, violently enforced by an extremely fed-up Father Dis-to this day the Darklords continue to spy on and plot against one another. I suppose all the intrigue and power-struggles prevent them from getting bored as they while away Eternity.
I went on. “From what Waldemar told us, it sounds like the Dawnstone would be a powerful weapon- especially against a vampire. Because of the Renewal Ceremony, this day is the one time of the year when the Darklords’ minds are on matters other than their endless bickering…a good time to take an opponent by surprise.”
Devona stopped walking, grabbed me by the arms, and turned me toward her. She might have only been a half vampire, but she was still strong as hell. “You think someone-perhaps Varma-is plotting to destroy my father?”
“Possibly.”
“Then we must return to the Cathedral and warn him!”
She let go of me and started to run in the direction of Lord Galm’s stronghold, but it was my turn to grab her, and I took hold of her arm to stop her. She struggled, and she was more than strong enough to break free of my grip if she wanted to, so I knew I had to talk fast.
