Jonathan stood around uselessly while Anya sifted through the notebook that every hardworking detective always seemed to have with them, no matter the occasion. Lucy bent over beside her with an equally serious expression on her face, explaining something under hushed tones to the nodding detective.
“There can be no other explanation,” Lucy said firmly. “All these charms he bought, it’s definitely for a dark exorcism. But since he’s missing Axtrrpuq’s charm, it might take a little longer to complete.”
“But didn’t you say that the elixir of life cannot be exorcised normally?”
“I… I don’t know! A dark exorcism pulls out the soul from a body, giving the foreign astral entity full reign over the body.” Lucy’s voice grew desperate again. “It makes no sense to me either, but we gotta try! Duncan doesn’t have much time left; we don’t even know where he could be!”
“Calm down, are there any conditions that need to be fulfilled for this exorcism to take place?”
“Ngh…” Lucy scrunched up her face, searching her memory. “A dark place… Somewhere that has seen lots of death would increase the chances of success for the exorcism.”
“Michael’s house!” Jonathan and Anya piped simultaneously.
“It’s beside London’s last graveyard,” Jonathan continued. “He’s gotta be there.”
“Then I hope this place is homey enough for you, Anya.” Lucy grabbed Jonathan’s wrist and turned to him. “You do know how to get there from our headquarters, right? Let’s not dawdle any longer.”
“Lucy-”
“-Wait!” Jonathan’s voice echoed around the stone walls of the headquarters. “We may not be strong enough to take on….” His voice trailed away. Electricity crackled through his body threateningly.
“Are you here to finish the job?” Jonathan glared at the intruder in front of Lucy, sounding like a badly autotuned robot with all the electrical distortion in his voice. “Sorry to break it to you, but you don’t have the necessary qualifications.”
“Glad I got the location right.” The auction night assassin unfolded his arms to show his empty palms. “I’m just a weak mortal, and I know when I’m outmatched. Stand down, I’m here to help.”
“Prove it,” Lucy said, still training her pistols on him.
“I believe you seek Michael O’Cornell, am I right?” Quentin said. “I have something that can help you.”
“What’s that to you?” Lucy snapped hostilely.
“Exactly, why should we trust you?” Jonathan’s eyes glowed fiercely. “You tried to kill us at the auction.”
“I didn’t. I was going after Michael, and you were simply in the way,” Quentin replied. “Also, I’m not giving it to you for free. I have but one request.”
“Spit it out, and we’ll consider pardoning your trespassing.”
“Kill him. I’m leagues away from even touching him, but you can.” Quentin pointed at Jonathan. “The last Lily Noir herself has chosen to bond with you for eternity. Only you are powerful enough, descendant.”
He took out a shiny cross from his coat and handed it to Jonathan. Lucy hissed quietly and backed away. Quentin raised his hands in a surrendering position as Jonathan received the cross reluctantly.
“How’s that for a peace offering?” he said.
“It’s useless,” Jonathan muttered. “The red gem makes him immune to traditional vampire weaknesses.”
“Not anymore.” Quentin shook his head. “Not since you took it from him. You are its wielder now.”
“Wait, how do you know-”
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“I suggest you two crack on,” Quentin interrupted Jonathan. “I’m sure whatever he’s doing won’t take all night to complete. I’ll see you soon.”
----------------------------------------
And here I thought his house could not get any creepier…
Jonathan’s footsteps echoed loudly in the huge house; no need for skulking around anymore. Lucy had the same idea. She stomped into the living room, fully intent on announcing their presence as loudly as possible. Jonathan ignored the demonic symbols carved into the walls that were now glowing an ominous red. They resembled nothing like arrowheads, but Jonathan felt like he could oddly decipher where the symbols were leading to.
“Leo!” Lucy yelled at the cloaked figure standing over a motionless body over a stone slab. Candles were lit with emerald fire, circling around five points of a pentagram. The hooded figure turned around and put a finger to his lips.
“Shh, sister. The ritual is halfway done.” A gust of wind blew his hood open. “I don’t know what will happen to your friend should the extraction be interrupted halfway.”
Jonathan stole a peek at the body. Duncan looked peaceful, almost as if he was merely asleep. The Red Lily Noir sat on top of his forehead, bound by golden strings while his chest heaved slightly. Golden vapour escaped his mouth in small puffs, following some sort of air current to a talisman. The powder stuck itself inside the carved symbols, and the talisman pulsed strongly as if it was a beating heart.
“If it’s any comfort, this is truly nothing personal.” Michael paced silently in front of the altar. “I’m sure you’d understand, Lucy. Wouldn’t it be nice to have our souls back? Isn’t it the world’s greatest comfort to have somewhere to go after death? Your friend here can give me just that.”
“And what happens to him in return?” Lucy’s voice wavered. “He goes into oblivion in your place!”
“That’s not my problem.”
“Is that why you killed the auctioneer?” Jonathan asked. “To steal the Lily Noir so that you can complete your dark sorcery?”
“I pursued the Lily Noir for a few decades, aye. But I never killed the auctioneer. This gem was given to me seventeen years ago in exchange for a favour,” Michael replied. “A favour that haunts my conscience till this day. The poor boy, I’ll never forget the look on his face when he got orphaned on that cruise.”
His expression softened and he furrowed his eyebrows in regret. “But you must understand; I had no choice. If I didn’t kill her husband, my target would have had me found out before I could escape. Poor Joseph Warner…”
A cacophony of thoughts sped through Jonathan’s mind faster than he had ever moved as realisation hit him like an oil truck. There must have been a spark as well, because he felt an unbearable fire course through his veins.
“It.. it was you…” Jonathan Warner shook with emotion. “You killed my father…”
“Ah, such poetic fate…” Michael closed his eyes painfully. “To think the boy I orphaned would grow up to be the wielder of that accursed gem.”
Duncan wheezed as the altar began to rock violently.
“Duncan!” Lucy shouted. “He’s running out of time!”
“Too late, Lucy. The process is almost complete.” A sinister smile crept along Michael’s face. “You were always too late. Too late to save your dear Vlad two hundred years ago, and too late to save your friend now.”
“How dare you invoke his name!” Lucy snarled, her fangs popping out of her gums.
“Oh I dare, Lucy. You murdered my one true love in the name of your pathetic self righteousness. You deny your nature, you deny us. And for what? How can you hope to honour Vlad’s memory when you don’t even know who killed him?”
Michael unfurled his wings as he grew slightly larger in stature. “Yes. It was me, dear sister! It was I who gave the vampire hunters what they needed to kill him. Two can play that game, Lucy. We’re demons, and we are more than capable of killing our own!”
His voice dropped to a gravelly whisper. “So, are you going to protect your friend now? Or are you going to keep denying your true form?”
Lucy was trembling in anger, or so it initially seemed. The red glow in her irises seemed to glow brighter and brighter, until the woman standing beside Jonathan was not so much a woman anymore.
Black fur covered her skin as she swelled to at least three times her size. The floor cracked under the vampire’s weight as she pounded her hands, or rather, her forelegs on the ground. Jonathan ducked, narrowly avoiding her wings that unfurled themselves violently from her back. His ears rang as the bat creature shrieked in anger at her brother.
“Attagirl.” Michael laughed darkly as he responded with his own transformation, turning into an almost identical monster with much less strain.
A burst of electricity struck Michael squarely in the chest, and he stumbled backwards. Jonathan gritted his teeth and struck with a higher voltage, but the vampire protected himself with his sturdier wings this time. Michael shrieked in retaliation and charged forward at an impossible speed for something his size. Jonathan braced himself.
Lucy’s forelegs clashed with her brother’s yellowish claws as they immediately began to engage in a war of attrition. She roared in effort as Michael slowly pushed her backwards. Jonathan caught a glimpse of the altar behind the giant monster fight. He narrowed his eyes in concentration.
And the world froze.