House of Blood: (A Paranormal Urban Fantasy) (The Vampire Project Book 2) Page 2

  “Here.” Aareth skidded to a stop beside a large wooden door with a sign overhead that read: Lovegood’s Fine Leathers and Hides.

  Jack took one last look around the deserted backstreet to ensure they were still the hunters and not the hunted. As he turned his eyes back to the door, Aareth flew backwards under an onslaught of wooden shards. The door had imploded under the pressure of the assassin in black.

  Aareth was thrown to the opposite alley wall, where his head hit the brick with a painful crack.

  Jack was reaching for the wand given to him by Edison Reeves, the director of the queen’s armory and head of the Department of Paranormal Study and Magic, when the assassin came for him.

  Jack had time to realize two things in the second before the attack. First, the hitman wasn’t a man at all. By the curve of her breasts and hips, and the slenderness of her stature, it was obvious a woman was attacking him. The second was the lack of face. Under the black cowl was a gunmetal mask hiding any of the assassin’s features. Two large circles covered in dark glass and a lined vent for breathing made up the unearthly helmet.

  Before Jack could even draw his weapon, she was finishing Aareth with a strike to his temple and an elbow to the base of his skull. Aareth staggered but refused to fall.

  As Jack aimed for his target, she was on him. Batting aside the hand that held his wand, she sent a strike to his throat and a kick to his stomach. At once, Jack was left gasping as he fell to his knees, both hands clutching his stomach. His wand clattered to the stone floor, useless. Eyes watering, he fought to regain his footing. He looked down the alley to see the masked figure disappear into the street. The road teamed with citizens still fleeing from the initial gunshot.

  Aareth appeared next to Jack. The large man offered Jack a hand. A moment of silence passed as their minds processed the recent events.

  “I need to find out what’s going on with me.” Aareth massaged the back of his head where the assassin’s elbow had connected. “Her blows should have been enough to knock me out. Instead, the pain is already gone.”

  “You saw that, too, right?” Jack ignored Aareth’s words. “Our assassin is a masked woman.”

  “I saw it.” A shadow of confusion crossed over Aareth’s face. “There was something familiar about her. I know I couldn’t see her face, but still. On her wrist there was a ... No, no, never mind. We have to get back to Sloan and tell her what just happened.”

  Jack decided not to push the subject. He trusted Aareth would tell him if he could put his finger on any new information. Time would prove this theory wrong.

  Jack

  An hour later, Jack found himself cleaned and briefing Sloan and the queen in a large meeting room. The palace was home to dozens of different quarters, each seeming more grandiose than the next. This room was large enough to accommodate the entire locomotive they had used to return to New Hope.

  Jack stood next to Aareth as the two men relayed the events after the attempt on the queen’s life.

  “And then she took off sprinting down the alley,” Aareth finished.

  Jack was about to open his mouth, reminding Aareth of what he had said about the woman seeming somehow familiar, though stopped himself just in time. If Aareth had omitted that piece of the story, he had done so on purpose.

  “Well,” the queen said with a firm gaze. If she was rattled about having her life almost snuffed out, she didn’t show it. “Captain Sloan has briefed me in the events taking place in Burrow Den; the cave laboratory, the experiments done on both humans and animals, and, of course, the journal that was found. I dare say these actions are one of a much larger scheme. I am aware much of the evidence—the mage-powered bikes and the equipment found in the secret laboratory—points to Dr. Oliver Livingston. As he’s one of the most influential men in New Hope, we need to gather more information before making an accusation. Dr. Livingston has been nothing but helpful to the crown.

  “Captain Sloan and I are bound to see this through to the end. Aareth Emerson and Jack Walker, I can never thank you enough.” The queen hesitated looking at both Jack and Aareth with an intensity foreign to her age. Her eyes looked sad as if she were reliving a memory from her past. “And you Jack, I seem to owe you twice as much for saving my life. Both of you have risked and lost enough.”

  Jack couldn’t believe his ears. If the queen thought this is where their paths ended, she was wrong. His feelings were so strong on the issue, they surprised even him.Aareth spoke before Jack had the opportunity. “With all due respect, I’m not going anywhere. I plan on seeing Edison about whatever it is that’s healed my arm so quickly and … there’s a hitwoman on the loose I intended on finding.”

  “I’d like to stay, as well.” Jack looked from Sloan to the queen. “My father died as part of someone’s sick game. I won’t be able to live with myself until whoever’s in charge is found and pays.”

  The queen inclined her head, then looked to Sloan for consensus.

  “I could use them,” Sloan agreed, “as well as the two Ahab girls. They may have more information about the proceedings in Burrow Den. The journal makes a strong case that the younger girl, Elizabeth, may have been experimented on, as well.”

  “I agree.” The queen looked from Sloan, to Aareth and Jack. “Thank you for your willingness to assist New Hope. There is much to discuss, and leads to follow, but for now, a hero has waited long enough to rest.”

  Jack felt a lump grow in his throat, and it refused to dissolve no matter how many times he swallowed. Words were lost to him as he looked into the eyes of the queen. All he could do was nod.

  Jack

  A private cemetery was set apart from the rest. It was specifically reserved for those heroes who’d died in service to the city. Open with a long, grassy plain and thick trees, it stood as different from the rest of the city, as night from day.

  He would have liked this, Jack told himself as he stood with city officials and soldiers he didn’t know. Out of respect, hundreds were in attendance, but how many had actually known the man his father had been?

  Jack stood, Aareth on his left, Abigail and Elizabeth on his right. His father’s body was moved from the plain, wooden box used to transport it, to an elegantly carved coffin befitting a king. In his heart, Jack knew what remained of his father’s body was only an empty shell, a husk. His father’s soul was gone now; it would be waiting for him with his mother. He would see them both again one day.

  “Marcus Walker was a hero in every sense of the word.” The queen’s voice broke Jack from his thoughts as the coffin touched the rich soil at the bottom of the grave. “He was a true patriot. He came when his city needed him and laid down his life in order to protect others. I only had the privilege of meeting the man once. However, there is someone here who was fortunate enough to spend time with him. She has asked to speak to you today.”

  Jack glanced around, stunned. He hadn’t expected anyone to speak on behalf of his father. He had almost thought he should, but what would he say, even if he could choke out the words?

  Sloan walked to the front of the assembled group. She wore her uniform of grey-and-black adorned with a host of medals that spoke volumes to her decorated career in the army without saying a word. Her saber hung at her side, her blonde hair was actually styled instead of being pulled back in a ponytail.

  “Marcus Walker was a man who came from humble beginnings. He shared a part of his story with me on our journey. Although he had a normal beginning, there was nothing ordinary about the man. Even in my short time with him, he has impacted me in a way I will never forget. I think those people, like Marcus, who we are lucky to cross paths with in life, never truly die. I know I’ll always carry his words with me. He encouraged me to be happy with myself. He showed me that true self-worth comes from within, and it doesn’t matter where you were raised or what others think of you.”

  Sloan blinked back a few tears.

  “Marcus Walker was, is, and forever will be, with us.” She looked dire
ctly at Jack. “He’ll be the best part of us, and I swear to God, he will be avenged.”

  Jack found himself grateful beyond words for Sloan’s speech. It was perfect in every sense of the word. There were salutes from the army, gunshots fired on a bugle’s cue; all of the actions Jack could imagine when a hero met his final resting place. The sun was setting on a long day that had seen him through an arrival, an assassination attempt, and now a burial.

  One by one, mourners began to pass by his father’s grave. Each one grabbed a handful of dark soil and let it fall through their fingers to rest on Marcus’ casket.

  “I’ll go with you.” Abigail wiped tears from her freckled cheeks.

  Jack felt selfish for not thinking of how Abigail or Elizabeth felt. Their father had also met his death on the same night as Marcus. Even though he had been the villain in the story, Jack could imagine that, in a way, it had been almost harder for them. Abigail had saved Jack’s life by killing her father, Elijah Ahab. There had been no ceremony for him.

  “Together.” Jack reached out with his right hand and clasped her palm in his own, just as she had done for him that morning. They moved together toward the open pit. Jack reached down with his free hand and felt the cool, moist soil conform to his grip.

  He looked down on the open square of earth where his father had found his final resting place. The soft dirt fell through his fingers as he said his final goodbye: I love you, Dad. I’ll always love you. I’ll find out who was responsible and they’ll pay. I promise.

  Jack

  “I secured bedrooms for you in the palace on the same level,” Sloan explained as she showed Jack, Aareth, Abigail, and Elizabeth to three side-by-side rooms. “I hope you don’t mind. I imagined you’d want to share with your sister.”

  “No, that’s fine. Thank you, Captain Sloan,” Abigail said.

  “Of course, dinner will be served in the hall. You are free to come and go as you please.” Sloan held Jack’s and Aareth’s gazes for a moment longer. “Sleep well. I have to ensure the guard is doubled for the queen. We’ll start our investigation tomorrow morning.”

  Jack held his tongue. He wanted to start now. He knew sleep would be far from him this night; he wanted to begin searching for his father’s murderer immediately, but he held these feelings in check and gave Sloan a nod, remembering her words at the funeral.

  Aareth’s face told Jack his mind was a hundred miles away. He gave Sloan a grunt of agreement before disappearing into his room in a very unlike-Aareth way.

  “If you need anything”—Sloan began to walk down the hall—“just ask a servant or guard. They’ve been instructed to assist you.”

  “Thank you,” Jack and Abigail said together.

  A second later, Sloan was gone.

  “I’m sorry,” Elizabeth said. “I mean, about what happened to your dad.” She had been so quiet over the course of the day, Jack had wondered how she was coping with all of the events. “I know what it’s like to lose a father. You were lucky to have had him in your life. From what I saw, he was a great example of what a father should be.”

  “He was.” Jack stared down at the red carpet that lined the hall. “Thank you, Elizabeth.”

  “Are they going to experiment on me again?” she asked, changing the topic as if she were asking about his thoughts on the weather.

  “What?” Jack’s neck lifted so fast, it almost gave him whiplash.

  “Yeah, I wanted to ask before, but it seemed selfish.” Elizabeth moved a long cord of thick, red hair from her eyes to behind her ear. “So what’s it going to be? Did you bring me to New Hope because I’m a freak?”

  “Um …” Elizabeth motioned with her chin to a servant who had appeared down the hall. “Perhaps we should have this conversation in private.”

  Jack looked bewildered, but nodded along with her suggestion. The trio entered the girls’ room, and Abigail closed the door behind them. The floor plan was a single, large square. A window opened up to the rear garden, and two large beds stood side by side with a nightstand between. A pair of dressers and a door leading to the lavatory rounded out the room.

  Elizabeth wasted no time, running to a bed and throwing herself atop the fluffy cushions. She rolled onto her stomach, both hands supporting her chin.

  Abigail was more reserved as she stood next to her sister, her arms folded across her chest. A look of apprehension touched her eyes as Jack took turns staring at them both, wondering who was going to speak first.

  The journal they had found in the cave laboratory, the one written by the scientist named Aaron Jebson. He had referred to two experiments. Was Elizabeth one of them? Jack wondered as he waited for someone to break the silence.

  “When the memories first started coming back to her,” Abigail said, her voice shaking, “we thought they were dreams or something else. I mean, how could she not remember?”

  “The memories are like nightmares,” Elizabeth said, echoing her sister’s words. “I’ve always been a bit off, but … but it’s been getting worse. I think they found me in the woods one day. I think they experimented on me.”

  “Who?” Jack tried wrapping his mind around the idea of anyone experimenting on another person. “Who would do something like that to a young girl? How long were you gone?”

  “They were men in long, white coats.” Elizabeth shivered as she spoke. “I don’t remember much, but I remember the cave laboratory and … I remember being in pain.”

  Elizabeth paused as her skin paled. Her eyes were huge as if she were reliving the horrible events of the cave that very moment.

  “They would have had to capture her, do their experiments, and erase her memory each day.” Abigail swallowed hard. “She was never missing. We lived in Burrow Den. It was the quietest city in the Outland before … before the attacks started.”

  “In the journal we found,” Jack started, deciding to tell the sisters what he knew, “there was mention of two successful experiments outside of the ocelot. They were codenamed ‘A-10 Banshee’ and ‘A-19 Night Walker.’”

  Sloan

  “Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Sloan’s eyebrow arched. It was almost midnight. After her check in with the bodyguards watching the queen and a walk-through of the palace grounds, Sloan was exhausted. She was making her way to her own quarters, when she found Aareth headed for the armory. “You should be resting that arm of yours.”

  “Arm’s fine.” Aareth glared at her through bloodshot eyes. A look of borderline panic had replaced his usual easygoing demeanor. “Can’t sleep.”

  “Is there something I should be made aware of?” Sloan caught her rough tone and decided to ease off a bit. “Are you okay, Aareth?”

  “It’s nothing.” Aareth swallowed hard, averting his gaze. “An impossible coincidence, that’s all.”

  “Well, where are you going?” Sloan decided not to push the subject. “The palace armory is the only thing down this hall.”

  “I have a meeting with Edison.” Aareth coughed so hard, it almost sounded like a bark. He massaged his miraculously healed arm. “He said he can do some tests to explain this.”

  “How is it?” Sloan felt pity for the man, and just as soon, hid the emotion. Aareth didn’t need, neither would he want, someone feeling sorry for him. “The pain’s gone. Physically, I feel stronger than I ever have. It’s just that—” Aareth shifted his gaze from Sloan to the vaulted ceiling of the palace. It wasn’t that he was trying to break eye contact with her, he was just searching for the words. “Something’s going on that I can’t explain. I’m having dreams that I’ve had a hundred times before, but they’re ending different now. I feel like something inside of me has woken and it’s pissed off.”

  “I’m not going to pretend that I know what you’re going through.” Sloan looked down at her own mending leg that still caused her to limp. Memories of the knife wound from Elijah Ahab were fresh in her mind. “My injuries are a bit more normal. If anyone has an answer as to what’s happened to you, Edison will.�
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  “Why don’t you come with?” Aareth motioned with his head for her to follow as he continued his journey down the hall. “We can both see what madness Edison has been up to since our last visit.”

  Sloan fell in step with Aareth. She was far from considering him a friend, but after their experience in Burrow Den, she knew she could trust him. He had his demons like everyone else, but deep down he was faithful.

  “Where’re the gloves Edison made for you?” Sloan remembered the mage-powered gauntlets with a smile. “Decided to take a break from electrocuting yourself?”

  “Left them on the locomotive. Didn’t think I would need them in New Hope.” Aareth gave Sloan a sideways grin. It was good to see him smile again. “I know, couldn’t have been more wrong. I spoke with Edison at the funeral. He said he would collect them and design some tests to run on my arm. I was to meet him in the armory at midnight.”

  The two slowed their strides as they came to the end of the hall where a set of looming double doors stood guarding the armory. Carved on each door was an intricate design of magical symbols and runes. Each line etched into the door shone with a dull, red light.

  Aareth reached up with a tentative fist. He knocked on the door so gently, Sloan wasn’t sure his knuckles had made contact with the door at all. Despite this fact, the doors glowed even brighter, then swung open.

  The smell of grease and smoke was thick in the air as the captain and the former city inspector entered the workshop.

  Minus the bustling activity of a hundred gnomes hard at work, the room was just like Sloan remembered on her last visit. The chamber was massive with an army of machines she recognized, and even more she didn’t. Bright mage lamps were strung up overhead.

  “Are you sure he told you to visit him at midnight?” Sloan’s eyes searched the area for any threat. A feeling like they were being watched crawled across her skin.