King of Sin Read online

  Chapter 8

  The cathedral’s front steps led down to a resplendent stone square where a pair of strangers waited with stony expressions. I descended toward them, arms outspread, Pride trailing in my wake. Alia had not come along.

  “Welcome, gentlemen,” I said amicably to the strangers. I stopped a few steps from the square so that I was still looking down on them. They wore immaculately pressed clothing with narrow ascots and well-polished shoes. They had short hair, but it looked perpetually wet, as if it had only stopped raining a moment before I came outside. Most peculiar of all was that they chose to wear tinted spectacles, despite the fact that we stood in the cathedral’s great shadow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” I asked aloud. And what will your necks sound like when they break?

  “Who are you?” one of the men asked.

  The other spoke up, nearly interrupting the first. “Is it true you killed the vampire king?”

  My smile broadened as I scratched my head. “Who? You will have to be more specific. I have killed a great many kings in my time. Was this particular one a friend of yours?”

  “We speak in the name of the Overseers,” the first minion—for they were someone’s minions—said.

  True to form, his partner finished the first’s implied threat. “We demand that you surrender peacefully and come with us. Any other course will only result in your demise.”

  “Surrender?” I laughed. “Well, that sounds quite reasonable. I suppose you could let me head inside to fetch some fresh linens...” I turned around swiftly and winked at Pride, who was standing a few steps up from me. She nodded. I took a deep breath and bent my knees.

  I launched myself skyward, flipping and twisting through the air toward the newcomers. As I leaped, Pride cast a pair of illusions closely resembling me, each of which ran straight at one of the enemy footmen. I reached the apex of my jump and looked down upon my opponents like a swooping bird of prey seeking to wet its talons.

  An instant later, all that had changed. Rather than responding in surprise or alarm to the attacking illusions, the men merely waved their hands and dispelled them, shattering my shades into thousands of wispy fragments.

  A shock of cold adrenaline flooded my system as I struck downward. So the people of this world wielded magic in addition to their technology. It should not matter. I was still myself, the indomitable Cain.

  Each of my heavy dragon scale boots lashed out at one of the men’s heads as I descended between them. The maneuver should have sent them both to away in a hurry, but they reacted with a pristine, almost perfectly mirrored technique. They each caught one of my feet and froze me in mid-air.

  These men had the strength to tear a body in half, and I felt the power in their arms. But my body was not made of ordinary flesh and bone, and I was no ordinary fighter.

  I went completely limp, folding forward and rolling effortlessly out of their grip, my shoulders battering the hard stone. I came to my feet facing them, and they circled in opposite directions, putting me between them. Pride raced down the steps to join the battle.

  The strangers kept pace with me, and before she could come close, we clashed again. They came at me together, but I threw a swift spinning crescent kick that forced them both back. They slithered in and out like the darting tongues of serpents, testing the air, probing for weaknesses. They would find none.

  “You have violated the ancient oaths,” one of them intoned from behind me. “That which was meant to remain whole forever has been broken. Surrender now, or bear your doom.”

  “Surrender? There are but two of you,” I said scornfully, turning toward him.

  “So be it,” the other said from the opposite side.

  I pivoted so I could watch both of them from the corners of my eyes. I had to blink thrice to ensure my vision was not deceiving me. A swarm of small metal pellets, like the ones the guardsman had used earlier, rose up around each of the men. Twin clouds of angry wasps. An instant later every metal projectile flew in my direction at a killing velocity.

  “Cain!” Pride cried, still sprinting toward me.

  I had encountered these weak weapons before, and the pellets had been no cause for alarm. I prepared myself for their tickling impact on my armor and skin.

  “Ooof!”

  Pride tackled me around the knees, knocking me sideways, almost out of harm’s way. A stray projectile pierced my left hand—an inconsequential wound, but a surprise. These weapons were not made of the same meager material as those from before.

  Pride...

  She lay limply atop me, and a soft moan echoed from her lips. I scrambled to my knees, eyes and hands roving her body to investigate the wounds. Several pellets had grazed her badly, and one had torn clean through her right side. She was leaking ichor at an alarming rate, her pointed ears wilting, her cheeks ashen. For a single moment, fear took me, and I froze.

  Powerful arms seized me from behind, cinching around my neck in a tight chokehold. The man dragged me away from Pride while his partner advanced on me. Powerful hands seized my flesh, and I once again found myself surprised by both the strength and technique of these strangers.

  “You are not like any others I have encountered in this world,” I said. “What are you, then?”

  The advancing man raised an eyebrow. “Oh? We are bullet priests,” he said simply, then struck me hard in the stomach. Their strength, while greater than the others, was still less than mine. I doubled over but used the momentum to throw the priest behind me over my shoulder, slamming him onto the ground. He rolled away and rejoined his partner. So they were masters of these so-called bullets.

  Ordinarily, I would have cherished the challenge of facing the two of them together, but Pride was bleeding and moaning at my feet. Another cloud of bullets rose in the air around the two men.

  “Pride,” I hissed, kneeling over her. “To me!” The elven woman nodded faintly and vanished in a shimmer of light, taking the form of the heavy helm on my head once more. I did not hesitate. I fled the scene of the battle, traveling to the safety of my Pridehold.

  “Those inbred bastards,” I cursed, slamming a fist into one of the wooden pews. I had appeared in the center of my temple, as I always did. “Pride, are you well?” I asked. She did not answer. Either she had lost consciousness, or she was too weak to respond. Neither possibility boded well for either of us.

  Left alone with my thoughts, I had nothing to do but wait. I could only remain in the Pridehold for so long. Too soon, and the bullet priests would be waiting for us. Too long, and I risked damaging Pride permanently.

  That was not a risk I was willing to take. Pride had been at my side since nearly the beginning, but to me, she was still the young warrior queen who had become mine many years ago.

  Pride...

  It had been a different world and a different time. She had been the first female ruler of the elven kingdom in memory. Her people had accepted the change when it arrived, but the old guard who controlled the kingdom had sought another path.

  Pride had made a deal with the devil in order to save herself and quell a rebellion. The devil in question had been me.

  She had paid me handsomely for my services, and after the bloodshed was over, Pride had been free to return to her kingdom’s rule. But I had fascinated her. She had spent her youth training in the arts of war, learning how to become death’s companion. She needed further instruction, my instruction, and she knew it. She had asked me what it would take to become my student, and I had told her. At first, she had laughed and walked away. Eventually, she returned on her knees and begged. She submitted to me, body and soul, and became the first of my Viceguard.

  I realized I had been pacing up and down the length of my Pridehold so quickly I was at risk of wearing a trench in the floor. I slowed my pace and eventually came to a stop. I took a deep breath and placed a heavy hand, callused from lifetimes of weapons training, on the laddered back of a stout wooden chair. It seemed to center me and solidify my goals. I need
ed to take care of Pride, first and foremost. She was my only ally in the strange new world the Enemy had sent us to, and more than that, she was... my Pride.

  I waited until I estimated an hour had passed, the longest I dared allow, then closed my eyes to shift back to the mortal plane.

  The bullet priests were gone. All that remained of our struggle were several errant projectiles and the crimson stain Pride’s wound had left on the ground. My anger burned at that sight as my helmet vanished and the warrior elf appeared beside me, supine and unmoving on the stone plateau.

  “No!” I cried, falling to my knees beside her and gathering her limp form in my arms.

  “Mmm... my lord,” she mumbled. Her breathing was shallow and shaky, but she was still alive. I moved her hand to the wound in her side and helped her apply pressure there. How long would she last?

  “I am sorry, Pride,” I whispered. “Just stay alive, damn you. Do you hear me? I command you to live!”

  Chapter 9

  “Cain.” The beautiful blonde elf so rarely said my name instead of one of my titles. But I did like the way my name rolled off her tongue. “We need help,” she whispered, fingers trailing weakly down my cheek.

  “You are right,” I said. “I cannot heal you on my own, not with injuries this severe. I will find someone... Alia. She knows this city well. She will know where to find a healer.”

  I scooped Pride up in my arms as easily as picking up a bundle of sticks and carried her along the stone steps and into the cathedral. I took her to my chambers and laid her on my bed, applying a quick bandage torn from the bedsheets.

  “I will return soon,” I said before leaving.

  I flew through the cathedral, calling Alia’s name, searching room after room and finding nothing. She could not have gone far, and I knew how to find her. I needed only to follow the smell of blood.

  Two blocks from the cathedral I picked up the scent of fresh gore. It was not coming from a small cut or injury. It was the reek of an emptying corpse, freshly killed. The kind vampires could crouch over to quench their thirst. I understood their wants, their needs, their weaknesses—to know them was to conquer them.

  I traipsed down a back alley that reminded me of the first place I had met Alia. There was steam billowing from exhaust pipes to obscure my vision as before, and again the scent of blood became almost overpowering. She was a messy eater.

  After a half dozen more steps, the steam parted to display Alia, kneeling over the body of a young woman and drinking her fill. I could hear the soft suckling noises as she supped at the broken vein in the human’s neck. I cared little about the scene of carnage—I only needed Alia’s help.

  She ignored me at first, pretending not to have noticed my approach while she gorged herself on fresh vitae.

  “Alia,” I said shortly. She did not respond, did not even lift her head. I grunted and stepped forward to grab her by the nape of her neck, dragging her up and away from the body. I pinned her against a hard stone wall. Her red eyes glared into my dark ones, resentful and uncaring.

  “What do you want?” she sneered. “If you’re here to kill me like you did the others, then get it over with. Otherwise, leave me to my meal.” I returned the glare for a long moment, then released her and stepped back. She looked up at me in surprise, rubbing her throat where my forearm had pressed against it.

  “I need your help,” I said, and she laughed at me. I waited calmly until her sarcastic merriment subsided, then grabbed her chin between my thumb and forefinger, pulling her close. For some reason, she did not struggle. “You will help me,” I said, “or you will die. That much I can promise.”

  “Fuck off,” she shook her head. “Based on everything you’ve said and done, you’ll probably kill me at some point anyway. Might as well happen now before I have to watch the whole world go to shit.” A sly look entered her eyes. “Besides, if I die, who are you going to run to for help? The cops? Not likely, with all the blood on your hands.” The mention of her food of choice caused her to glance down at the dead woman.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I growled. “Pride could be dying at this very moment. I cannot heal her completely on my own... my talents have always leaned more towards causing harm than curing it. Your world must have healers. Take me to one.”

  “Pride’s hurt?” she said, more out of surprise than concern. “Did you think I’d care about your little pet?” She snorted and turned away, crossing her arms. “Since you’re so capable, you should be able to find the healer on your own.”

  I pivoted and punched the stone wall so hard that shards of it crumbled away. Alia blinked in surprise at my strength and shook her head. I had to restrain myself from grabbing ahold of her again. I could not threaten her with death, and torturing or bargaining would both surely take up valuable time, which left me only one option.

  “She is not my pet,” I said at last. “Pride is the first and last of my Viceguard. She is my companion of many years and shall be for many more. We are entwined in ways you cannot comprehend. Help us, and I promise you will be richly rewarded.”

  The vampire’s expression opened as I spoke, her eyes widening, lips parting slightly. She looked impressed, and also curious.

  “You truly care about her, don’t you?” the vampire inquired.

  “She is my Pride,” I said simply. “I care for her in ways a child like you could never comprehend. If she dies, it will not go well for you and your world. This, I swear.”

  A far-away gaze wandered across the vampire’s face. “The king never cared for me, or for anyone really,” she said. The echoes of horrific memories flitted across her face. “He was... terrible. I’m glad you got rid of him. You’re different.”

  I frowned. “I’m as different from that dead fraud as can be. So will you help me? Come, we do not have time to waste.”

  She nodded at last, but then bit her lip and hesitated. “I want something in return, though.”

  “What?” I demanded.

  “Admit that I’m a fully grown woman, not a child.”

  I raised an eyebrow, confused. It seemed an extraordinarily odd request. She could have asked for nearly anything, and she chose to correct a slight? Strange indeed.

  “You are an attractive grown woman,” I said. “Are you pleased, now?”

  Alia smiled up at me in satisfaction. “I suppose so.” The smile faltered, and she bit her lip again. “There might be a problem, though.”

  “What is it?” I crossed my arms, hoping it would be some sort of fee. Plenty of capital remained in the broken safe at the cathedral.

  “If she’s as badly wounded as you say, there’s only one person I know of that can help. A powerful healer. The issue is, he hates all vampires. Doesn’t agree with our way of life. We never needed his services because of our self-healing powers. We never bothered to make peace with him. If he sees me, at best he’ll refuse you service. At worst, he’ll start shooting.”

  “So you will stay out of sight,” I shrugged. “And in single combat, I fear no one.”

  “That’s comforting for me,” Alia said, rolling her eyes.

  “Simply lead me to this healer’s residence and point me to his front door.”

  “Fine, your majesty,” the vampire sighed. “This way.” She set off down the alley toward the street, which was well illuminated by the yellow lamps high above. I lingered in her wake.

  “Pride’s illusions will no longer be protecting me,” I warned. “I should not go about dressed like this.” I gestured at my dragon scale armor and the weapons strapped to my belt.

  “Don’t worry,” Alia reassured me, looking back with a sly smile. “We’ll stick to the shadows, and we’re not going to walk all the way there.”

  “Will we take one of these iron chariots?” I asked skeptically.

  “You mean a car?” Alia laughed. “Yes, we’re going to take one. I just need to find one that I like.”

  I nodded at the first vehicle we passed. It was large and blocki
sh, not unlike their many buildings, and painted a deep sea green. “Why not this one?” I asked. “It seems serviceable enough.”

  “A truck?” Alia scoffed. “And that color? I mean, I would ask if you were blind if I didn’t know how well your eyes work. No, we’re going to need something with a little more style and speed.”

  “What are we seeking, specifically?”

  “Oh, I’ll know it when I see it.” Was she toying with me? I was in no mood for such things. Pride was at death’s door, and Alia wanted to—I stopped suddenly, realizing the vampire was no longer at my side.

  I turned and realized she had raced across the road into an open area filled with cars, and even some trucks and possibly other types of the iron chariots. Her nose pressed up against the glass wall of a low red car with an angular outline.

  “Okay, we’re definitely taking this one,” she announced as I approached from behind.

  I glanced around. The nearest street lamp was not illuminated, so we had the cover of darkness.

  “What is the appeal of this one?” I asked as she undid her belt and slid it off. That drew my attention to her skirt, reminding me of her display the first time we had met. “And what are you doing?”

  “I’m always prepared for certain things,” she said with a wink. Her nimble fingers found a small hole in the belt’s covering and pulled a long bit of wire out. I was impressed. I had no idea the concealed item, which could serve as a tool or weapon, had been present.

  “What else are you hiding within your clothing?” I wondered aloud.

  “Maybe you’ll get to find out,” she said with a hint of amusement, bending over a little more than necessary as she fed the wire into the side of the car. I grunted in approval but then shook my head and cleared my throat. I needed to focus on saving Pride, and that meant learning as much as I could about this world and its resources.

  “Why did you choose this car, though?” I asked, my tongue exploring the new word.