PRAETERITAE

KELLY

Alex ticked the names off on their fingers. “Barachiel, the Messenger. Domiel, the Mercy-Bringer. Erathoal the Seer, Pistis Sophia the Ascetic, Raziel the Crusader, and Sealtiel the Defender. And last is Zaphkiel, the Watcher.” They wiggled their fingers. “Those are the seven Arch-Saints. I'm not sure where you're confused.”

George rubbed his forehead and lay back in the van. “Titan's testes... I'm not an angel, and I'm not a vampire. Why would I care about your warlords?”

“Because it's important?” Alex shook their head. “Look, not being able to name all of them and their respective Heavens is understandable. But how could you ever mistake Lilith for one of them?”

“She doesn't like being called that,” Sax said absently from the driver's seat.

Kelly rolled her eyes. “She doesn't like being called anything, it seems.”

“That's not what I meant,” George said. “I thought she was a former angel. A fallen angel, you know? I wasn't really paying attention back when everything was starting, so...” He shrugged. “I'm still a little behind the times.”

Kelly frowned. “I thought you were at Bloody Thirteen.”

George shuddered, making the entire van tremble. “Don't remind me of that, please.” He took a deep breath. “But at the time, it seemed like just a new gang that was a bit crazier than usual. And besides, I wasn't even with Necessarius back then. I was just a minor member of the Kongeegen party, working with the man who became Odin.”

Alex cocked their head to the side. “I thought you were more of an Iluvatar.”

“Sure, now. But the Kongs used to sound like a good idea.”

Kelly was surprised. “You know Odin?”

“Barely. Knew his sons a little better, but not by much. I never even talked to him after he became a giant. I got the package and everything, but I kinda went off on my own.”

“Oh yeah,” Kelly said, nodding. “Gordok and all that, you mentioned...” She trailed off.

The van was surrounded by Belians.

How had they not seen them walk up?

It was high noon, but none of them were wearing daygoggles. They were all wincing at least a little, and were probably completely blinded by the sun. A normal vampire could adapt to even bright light over time, although they would still have headaches, but Belians had it worse. A lot of the drugs they took increased their light sensitivity.

Sax glanced around very carefully, trying not to move anything but his eyes. “I count six out front. Alex?”

“Six more in the back. We might be able to handle twelve blind chem-heads.”

“There will be six more, watching at a distance,” Kelly said, resisting the urge to scratch her fixer. “Probably armed with the remotes to the bombs these ones are carrying.”

“Titans...” George cursed. “They're suicide bombers?”

“Depends on your definition. Suicide bombers usually know they have a bomb strapped to their chest. These guys probably didn't even notice.” It was a popular tactic of the Belian warlords. Since their underlings were hooked on chems, that meant they were stupid and easily replaceable. Just kidnap some poor bastard off the street, give him a few chem-producing glands, and he'd be yours forever.

Alex glanced at Kelly. They both knew what the Belians wanted. Sax would too, but he couldn't turn his head, in case it set them off.

“Once they're distracted, drive off,” Kelly said. “I'll catch up.”

Sax grimaced. “No. They'll—”

“They'll do nothing.” She got out of the van and walked up to the first Belian.

She was a thin little slip of a girl, though Kelly couldn't tell if that was a side effect of the drugs or if she was just skinny. Other than the nighteyes and the fangs, she seemed normal. Kelly did notice that blood stained her teeth, probably from biting her tongue or lips. Clearly, this was a newly-made vampire.

“Take me to your Noble,” she ordered, without showing any hesitation on her face.

The girl swayed a little, then nodded, and slowly turned around and headed away from the van. Kelly was pleased to see the others following at a similar pace, freeing her friends.

She was still careful not to provoke the Belians. They might not be violent at the moment, but if she riled their blood, they'd tear her to pieces.

They only had to walk for a few minutes. It was an abandoned skyscraper, slated to be renovated tomorrow. Right now, however, it was completely empty, stripped down to the studs and concrete. Kelly could see from one end to the other, since even the walls were gone. It looked like nothing so much as an empty parking garage.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

A man sat in the very center of the first floor, far from any of the open windows, waiting patiently for his minions to bring Kelly to him. He appeared as a white-haired middle-aged man, though it was impossible to determine his true age. He had blood-red skin, darkening to blue on his clawed hands, and wore loose black clothes with a high stand-up collar.

He smiled as she approached, standing to greet her. “Hello, hello... Kelly, is it?” His voice was smooth as silk, and only had the slightest trace of an accent.

She scowled. “No games, Chamo.”

He tutted softly and wagged a finger back and forth. “Don't be so rude, my cel mic. You changed your name. I was just being polite.”

Kelly hated his little pet names. Her mother had been the only one allowed to call her cel mic. But she could endure his attentions for however long it took for the others to escape. “Let's get down to the point. Why are you here?”

He sat down again with a sigh, wincing almost imperceptibly at the cheap folding chair he was using. “Noapte, you have no sense of decorum. Fine, right to the point.” He spread his hands wide. “Phlegethos is dying. With Belial dead, the Throne of Abriymoch is empty, and we cannot afford to have anyone fighting over it. Honored Naome is gone, suspected to be dead as well.”

Kelly narrowed her eyes. “This has nothing to do with me, legate.”

He frowned. “Please, do not be obtuse. Your defection to Necessarius does not change who you are. We need every able fang we can find—and you are ever so able.”

“You don't need me,” Kelly said calmly. She indicated the Belians surrounding them. “You clearly have enough men. The court chemists are doing their job well enough.”

Chamo snorted in derision. “Men? These are not men, and you know it. They are sclavi, mindless slaves, nothing more. Zeabos and Zapan are...” He rubbed his forehead. “They are doing their best. But there is only one person who has ever been able to enjoy the benefits of both the physical chems and the mental ones at the same time.” His eyes met her own. “You.”

And things began to click into place once more. “You want a lab rat. I should have known.”

To Kelly's surprise, he waved his hand angrily. “Hardly, hardly. A list of your toys should be enough. We haven't been able to find it at the domain, but at the very least the Nobles thought you might remember.”

“My mother had a copy. But—”

“Yes, it was likely destroyed in the Shendilavri Retaliation, I know. But all that is secondary.” He was starting to get a desperate look in his eyes, and it took Kelly a conscious effort of will to keep from taking a step back. “But even as a symbol... even as nothing more than a champion, you would be nepreţuit. Priceless, invaluable.”

“I'm not coming back. Period. Ask my mother if you want to know how she pulled off the trick. I sure as hell don't know.”

Chamo narrowed his black eyes, but it would take more than that to intimidate her. She didn't care if he commanded most of the subculture's forces. She had never followed his orders.

He seemed to realize that at the same time she did. Instead of trying to cow her into submission, he snapped his fingers. His slaves strode forward, intent on capturing her. She didn't bother trying to flee.

She didn't need to. She spoke a short order in Romanian.

All twelve of the drug-addled men and women stopped instantly at her command. They stood patiently, awaiting new orders.

Chamo, of course, wasn't inclined to wait. He scowled and barked out a command of his own. “Sclavii! Prinde-o!”

His underlings didn't move. They stood still as statues, obeying her order to the letter.

Chamo was sweating now, she could smell it. He was doing a good job of keeping it off his face, but that didn't mean much against a nose like hers.

Kelly spoke another order. Again, they obeyed without hesitation, forming a screen between her and the increasingly terrified legate.

She managed to resist grinning at him, but only barely. Instead, she just raised an eyebrow. “Look, I can understand why you're still using my mother's behavior modification protocols. But at the very least, you should have sprung for a good pheromone buff.” She probably still would have been able to wrest them from his control, but it would have been harder.

“I will keep that in mind for the future,” he said. She could hear his teeth grinding as he managed to keep himself from saying something stupid. He wasn't a complete moron—far from it. He was a military genius, he just wasn't used to fighting someone like her. He would not make a mistake like this again.

“You are going to give the warlords a message,” Kelly said. “You are going to make sure that Balan, Bathym, Gaziel, and Gazra know I am not coming back. You will remind Zaebos and Zapan of the dangers of working with people like them.”

He nodded, perhaps a little too quickly. “Of course, I'll tell them.”

Kelly smiled cruelly, baring her fangs. “You don't understand, Honorless Bloodsoaked,” she said. “You are going to give the warlords a message. That is all.”

Chamo blinked, then, as realization dawned, leaped out of his chair and ran for the far exit.

She gave one last order.

The sclavi bolted off as if shot from a gun, chasing after the fleeing nightstalker—ah, former nightstalker—with naked glee. He didn't have the slightest chance of escaping them. Like most higher-ranked Belians, Chamo refused the physical-enhancing drugs and chems in favor of the mental-enhancing ones.

He tripped and stumbled, and the chem-heads were on him in a flash.

His screams echoed through the unfurnished building, bouncing off the concrete walls.

Kelly didn't have to stay. It would probably have been a good idea for her to run. The cries could attract attention.

But she stayed. She told herself it was because if you are going to murder someone, you should at least be willing to watch them die. But deep down, she knew the truth.

She supposed she was still a Belian after all.