“If you’ve hurt-”
He chuckled, setting the tip of the sword against my throat. “Oh, we’ve hurt the vampire. Hurt him near to death, no doubt.” He leaned in close, cold wisps of breath stinging my face. “He’s a spiteful beast, and as willful as any I’ve ever seen. I’ve no interest in freeing his soul only to have him seek revenge upon me, as one of my own kind. That would be unwise of me, so fear not, he lives.”
“You’ll get what’s coming to you,” I muttered through clenched teeth, my voice weak.
We both knew the threat was empty.
“Of that, I am assured.” He stepped away, waving Katon’s sword in the air with a victorious flourish. “You still claim no allegiance to Reven?”
I tried to spit at him, but I didn’t have the strength. The glob of saliva ran warm down my chin, mixing with the blood that leaked from my myriad wounds.
“No matter.” He pointed to the twitching pile of red and black that lay in the dirt. “If you wish to see your friend again, find the necromancer.”
My stomach lurched as I tried to sit up, tsunami waves of nausea and pain keeping me down. I lay on my side choking, trying not to vomit while the revenants lifted Katon’s broken body between them and drifted off toward the darkness. Daartan stared after them for a moment, then turned back to me, a crooked smile on his illuminated face. He reached down and set an ornate, silver amulet with an obsidian stone in its center, on my chest.
“Once you have Reven’s location, break the stone. I will come to you.”
“That supposed to be comforting?”
He smirked. “You remain alive only because you still have some use. Do not force me to reevaluate that presumption.” He spun the sword once more before holding it out before me, just out of reach. “Your companion knows not the value of this blade or he would not carry it about so lightly.” He ran his spectral hand along the blade, tiny droplets of light spilling from his fingers as it bit into his ghostly flesh. “Once you’ve delivered the necromancer to me, I will show you its true glory.” With a sputtering laugh, he flew off to join the rest of the knights.
As the darkness returned, the revenants’ light gone, I was alone with my agony. The zombies that had stood by peacefully had been slaughtered by Daartan and his knights. They lay about in shattered pieces, not much different than how I felt.
After giving myself a while to rest and prepare for the utter misery that lay ahead, I slipped the amulet around my neck and tried to stand. It took eight attempts, each a trial in suffering, before I managed to stay upright. Sad thing about it all, standing was the easy part.
The pitch of night stretched out before me, with only the tiny flickers of city lights way off in the distance to guide me off the ranch. Rather than worry about it-there was plenty of time ahead for that-I just walked, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. I knew if I fell I might never get back up.
Cold due to blood loss from the oozing wounds that covered my body, compounded by the desert night and the chill of my predicament, I kept warm by thinking of how Daartan would pay for what he’d done.
By the time I reached one of the intersecting highways, I was sweating, a furnace of fury burning inside.
Chapter Fifteen
Out on the road, I got lucky. A passing rancher, on his way home from a late night bender, happened to see me stumbling down the asphalt and stopped to lend a hand. Like pretty much everyone these days, besides me, he had a cell phone.
It took me a few minutes to convince him not to call 911 and to just let me use it. A good old boy, he was willing to risk going to jail for drunk driving just to get me help. I felt bad for lying to him, but it had to be done. I told him it was a couple of crooked cops who’d come after me, leaving me out there to die. If he called for an ambulance, they’d find out about it and would come looking for him and his family.
He handed the phone over in a hurry.
After contacting DRAC, I thanked him for his kindness and sent him on his way with my eternal thanks. Because of me, he’d probably never stop to help anyone ever again. That was a shame, but I was still glad for his kindness.
After what seemed like an eternity, Rahim plucked me up and whisked me back to my house for a dose of my uncle’s blood. It took a few fumbling minutes to dig out my stash and get a few drops into me, but when I felt its burning magic taking hold, I cried in ecstasy.
Under the narcotic sway of the blood, it was hard to stay focused, but I watched as it knitted my crippled hand back together. Drawing from the essence of myself, the bones of my fingers grew back first. White protrusions inched upward from the ruin of flesh, like morbid blooms, the skeleton of my hand reforming. The veins and tendons came next, weaving their complicated routes as the flesh crept behind to seal it all in. In but minutes, the nails, and even the hair, had returned, my hand just as it was before my weapon exploded. The rest of my wounds healed as well, metallic shards lay in a scattered bloody mess atop my blanket where they’d been ejected from my body.
I gave thanks to my uncle, wishing him goodwill, wherever he was. Once again, though gone, he’d saved my ass.
Afterward, we headed to DRAC. There, no trace of my wounds visible, Abraham stared at me over his cluttered desk, his eyes bulging behind his glasses.
“Are you sure it was Daartan?”
“At this point, Abe, I’m not sure about much of anything.” I shrugged, stretching my repaired hand, glad to have it back. “I’d never met the guy before, but I can’t think of a reason he’d lie about who he was? There’s not a whole bunch of folk who even know he exists, let alone have the power or interest to fake being him.”
Abraham shook his head while Rahim scowled behind him, fury engraved upon his face.
“I don’t care who he is, he has Katon. We have to go after this knight.”
While I felt the same way, I tried to calm him down. “He had the chance to kill Katon, but he didn’t.” I’d left out just how bad the revenants had hurt him, not wanting to stir the wizard up more than he already was. I also didn’t tell him about the amulet that would summon Daartan. There was no reason to waste it on an emotional suicide run. “Daartan is powerful, Rahim, and he has Katon’s sword to boot. We need some time to plan, to prepare to face him.”
Rahim was having none of it. “You two chat about what’s best, I’m going after Katon.”
While still somewhat hobbled by his injuries, they didn’t slow him down one bit. He headed for the door, driven by rage, his anger masking his pain.
“Rahim!” Abraham called after him, the slamming door drowning him out.
He sighed, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “His wounds have taken a toll on his mood,” Abraham explained, unnecessarily.
“Can’t say I blame him any. If I hadn’t seen how easily those guys took us apart, I’d be out the door with him.” I sunk into the chair, leather squeaking. “The problem is we’re way overmatched. For me, that’s business as usual. But with Katon kidnapped, Rahim still recovering and out of sorts, and Baalth about to crack up, I’m not sure we can handle this. Shit. Even Scarlett is incommunicado. We’re not exactly running on all cylinders here.”
“What are you suggesting?”
“I’m not sure, really.” I sunk further into the accommodating seat. “With Forcalor in Heaven, and out of touch, I don’t have much left in the way of friendly and powerful contacts in Hell, so I can’t go there for help.”
“What about this…Karra woman? She seems capable and strangely reluctant to do you harm. Could we use this to our advantage?”
I shrugged. “Do you really want to risk the fate of the world on my relationship with a woman?”
“Good point.” He slipped his glasses back, leaning back. “There must be something we can do.”
“I’ll be damned if I know what. Maybe Rahim will stir something up.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” Abraham replied, his voice a quiet whisper as he drifted off into thought.