Honor Bound Page 3

  "You'd be rich. Richer than almost anyone else in the country. And you can get in. I know you can. Don't try to deny it."

  I stared Ivan down, but I knew he must have found out. I guess it wasn't difficult. I knew I shouldn't have jumped back into his office to deliver the book last year. Once he did some checking into how that was possible and discovered the only way was with some serious fae assistance, or the way I'd done it, he'd have been convinced. He knew I owned a Teleron.

  I'd stolen it from Carmichael, then used it to deliver the angel right into his lap. I wondered what had happened after, unfortunately not the death of Carmichael as he was still around, but you can't win them all.

  "Fine," I said eventually. "So you know."

  "Know what?" asked Vicky.

  "I own a Teleron, all right?" I blurted, exasperated. "And no, you cannot, ever, use it. It's mine."

  Vicky was non-plussed. "What's a Teleron?"

  "If I may?" said Ivan.

  "Be my guest."

  "A Teleron, and there are maybe two in existence, is a small device that allows the owner to picture a place in his mind and open a portal directly to it from anywhere he, or she, may be in the world. It is a shortcut through the land of Faery, through the very Nolands itself, and Arthur here stole one from Cerberus."

  "Arthur! You never told me."

  "Why should I? You've been off the rails, acting mad, unstable. You think I wanted you nicking it and using it? You've been running wild every month when you change, you've been acting foolishly, the two jobs we did almost ended in disaster because you wouldn't listen, like you were brand new to this game, and besides, it's mine."

  "Have I really been doing that?" asked Vicky, crestfallen.

  "Yes."

  "I'm afraid so, dear sister. I thought this new home might calm you down, help you to recover, but..."

  "But what?" Vicky was genuinely puzzled, but then, we never see ourselves the way others do, never notice when we begin to act a little different.

  "But maybe it was too much for you. This house, the staff, it may not have been the best of ideas."

  Ivan was a good guy, sort of. He'd listened to what I said and thought on it. It didn't mean I would do this job though.

  "But we love it here," protested Vicky.

  "Let's stick to the topic at hand, shall we?" I said. "And I'm not doing it."

  Ivan edged forward to avoid getting sucked in by soft furnishings, and perched on the edge. "You will have millions. Both of you. You won't owe me a thing. Plus, and I have permission from Mikalus, if you agree, and trust me, you will, then I am able to answer any questions you might have. Any."

  "Any?" I asked, perking up.

  "About vampires and how it works and about, er, anything?" asked Vicky.

  "Yes," said Ivan with a sigh.

  I mulled it over for about a millisecond, then my mouth spat out the word before I could change my mind. "Deal."

  "Deal," said Vicky, although she'd wanted to do this anyway

  We asked our questions.

  The Truth About Vampires

  "Let's start with the basics," I said, getting in first before Vicky went off on one and asked a gazillion stupid questions.

  "As you wish," said Ivan.

  "How do you make a vampire?"

  "You must be bitten by a vampire. It begins the process, you will change. Feel the hunger. But you will not, ah, have all the benefits. You will be stronger, smarter, but you won't live longer or have true vampire powers. For that, you must take the blood of a vampire in return."

  "So Mikalus wasn't lying about that," I noted.

  "He doesn't lie about anything."

  "Are you alive?" asked Vicky.

  "Oh, definitely. Very much alive."

  "Just immortal?" I asked.

  "Nothing lasts for ever, Arthur, nothing. It slows the process down, but there's a limit. What that is, nobody knows. Mikalus is the eldest, the true Second almost as old as him. Maybe it will be four hundred years, maybe a thousand, who knows?"

  "And you still need food?"

  "Us young ones, certainly. I am led to believe that the older you get, the less normal food is required. You become more vampire, if that makes sense, over the years. Then, blood is what is required."

  "How often do you need to feed?"

  "Not that often. Again, the older you are..."

  "And you don't kill? You don't suck your victims dry?"

  "Arthur, please. Look, allow me to say this, and make it absolutely clear. Vampires are people. Different, but people. Do most people murder? No. Vampires are the same. We have a long history of willing people who gave their blood freely. It doesn't take as much as you'd think, but yes, it has to be fresh so to speak. Once a month maybe, for me. For Mikalus, it is different. He needs more, and more often."

  "Wow, you weren't kidding about opening up, were you?"

  "Mikalus felt this was for the best. This is private though. Never to be shared with another living soul."

  "Right, here's a doozy. Mikalus, or was it you, hinted about there being a number. That there could only be so many vampires. How many is that?"

  "A hundred thousand. A hundred thousand true vampires."

  "Why?"

  "I don't know. That's the truth. It's what I was told. I could get no further answer."

  "Okay, fair enough. Now, this whole lineage thing. The further removed from being bitten by the One, the less, er, vampire you are, right?"

  "Absolutely. You get the most strength, intelligence, power, by being chosen by the One. And down it goes, less and less effective. But all have extended lives, and are stronger than normal, but it becomes less obvious, yes. It's why Mikalus has given of himself. Even if you are bitten by a weak vampire, if you take the blood of a more powerful, older vampire, you will become one step removed from them. The essence of vampire, the infection if you will, is most concentrated in the One and weakens as the line descends."

  "And he's going to let how many feed from him?" I asked, scared shitless that a hundred thousand vampires would descend on the city and be turned into Seconds.

  "Arthur, this is information even most vampires don't know. We don't all talk on the phone and share secrets. We have very disparate groups, we have vampires who know no others, many who are content with their lives, feeding occasionally, maybe from a partner, a loved one, and they have no interest in changing. But the majority don't know or understand what the rules are. Anything else?"

  "Yeah, what's with Aurelius, the angel. And Mikalus and Carmichael? They all knew each other. And Carmichael, what's the deal there? He's a magic user, he's obviously old, from around Mikalus' time, and they knew each other. What gives?"

  "Oh, you're going to love this," said Ivan as he leaned forward conspiratorially. Vicky and I did the same, enchanted by the gleam in his eye. At that moment all I could think was how alike he and Vicky were. They apparently both loved to gossip, although I'd never have thought it of him.

  "Tell us," gasped Vicky. She'd heard all about our meeting and was pissed she'd missed it, so this would make up for it.

  "Carmichael killed Mikalus."

  "What!?"

  "Seriously?" asked Vicky.

  I was incredulous. How come Mikalus hadn't ripped Carmichael a new one the moment he was resurrected?

  "Apparently, and this is absolutely top secret and I don't think anyone else knows, it was Carmichael who killed Mikalus. For years, Cerberus had been doing what they did, but they were different times a few hundred years ago, obviously. Mikalus and Cerberus were not the best of friends, as Mikalus loved, still loves, his books. The book you got, the one that Aurelius wanted, it belonged to Mikalus, one of his library. Carmichael infiltrated his home, probably using the Teleron is the best guess, and he stole the book. Apparently he opened it, removed the protection around it, and Aurelius appeared. Shit got serious, things got smashed, windows and the like, and the sun streamed in. That was the end of Mikalus."

  "Wow.
That's... that's intense."

  "What's in the book?" asked Vicky.

  "Oh, this is the real shocker." Shocker? In the excitement Ivan had started to talk differently, losing his clipped mannerisms and controlled, slow way of speech, now babbling like Vicky. "This was how vampires were made." Ivan eyed us expectantly but all we did was stare at him blankly.

  "Huh?" I managed.

  "The book. Everyone thinks Mikalus summoned a demon and it turned him vampire. That's not true. Vampires, the First, Mikalus, got turned when he deciphered part of the book. Just a page. He discovered its secrets, read it, and something came. Not a demon, but an angel. It bit him."

  "What the fuck? An angel turned him into a vampire?"

  "Yes. The book holds countless such secrets, things we can't even dream of. It's basically a book of directions and also summoning spells, chants, whatever you call them, to allow you to become, well, I don't really know. But there are pages and pages of them. If you understand the book, then things will happen to you. You could change, become things we have never even dreamed of."

  "This is nuts. And Aurelius, what does he have to do with it?"

  "He was the one sent to retrieve it, but it's not that easy. He tried when Carmichael got it, when it was unprotected, and Mikalus ended up dead."

  "But who wrote the damn thing?"

  "I have no idea. I don't even think Mikalus does. If he does he didn't tell me. But there you have it. Mikalus was turned by an angel because it had no choice. My guess is the book holds a way to make angels do your bidding, do things they know how to do but won't unless you make them. He learned about vampires, decided he wanted to be one, then made the angel do it."

  "Fuck. Um, and Carmichael, what's he?"

  "Why, isn't it obvious?"

  "Um, no."

  "He's a vampire."

  "Fuck."

  "So you said," chortled Ivan, looking extremely smug. "Carmichael knew what Mikalus had done. Cerberus finds these things out. They probably got the information from a member of Mikalus' staff or something, and that's what all this is about. He broke in, and he got himself turned so he could continue to fight Mikalus. It ended badly, for Mikalus anyway, and ever since then the book was missing."

  "Until you found it."

  "Exactly. It was safe where it was, and Mikalus should have left it there. Sitting in a library, nobody knowing what it was, no threat, but as soon as you took it, the angels remembered about it, and it was back on their radar."

  "You mean they forgot about it?"

  "Apparently. Seems being an immortal angel messes with your memory." Ivan shrugged. "I assume Carmichael didn't keep hold of the book when he got Mikalus killed and some enterprising vampire hid it away, sure it was important."

  "Great, so what you're telling us is Cerberus is headed by a dude who will willingly become vampire just so he can fight vampires and continue to ensure nobody else ever learns how to do it or use magical items. That's serious dedication."

  "I know. Scary, right?"

  "You aren't exactly making me keen to do this job."

  "You promised. And besides, it's best to have all the information you can."

  Ivan stood, leaving us shell-shocked, and said, "Farewell, I have to rest now. And don't forget, either of you. This is private, never to be told."

  We nodded numbly, overwhelmed by the revelations.

  At the doors, Ivan turned and said, "Do it soon."

  "Yeah, we will. Give us some time to prepare though. This is, well, it's kind of impossible."

  "I know."

  "Oh, there's something in your car you need to dispose of," I said, suddenly remembering. "You should be more careful, Ivan. It was a Hound, I recognized him. Maybe up the vetting process for Vicky's staff?"

  Ivan nodded, said nothing, then left.

  "Why did you agree to the job? I thought you'd say no," asked Vicky, genuinely surprised and now looking about as keen as I felt to go through with this.

  "Because, my dear munchkin, I am honor bound. And without honor I am nothing but a wrinkled old man with a stick in his pocket."

  "At least it isn't flaccid," said Vicky with a smile and a nod at the Hat's nether regions.

  "Amen to that."

  Going Home

  Vicky and I chatted for the next half hour but we hardly even got started on what was to be the biggest job of both our careers before the terrible twosome made an appearance and began doing what young girls seemed to do best. Namely, running around like they were mainlining sugar, coming and going only to return in different fancy dress costumes, and insisting that we admire their princess outfits, their tutus, and myriad characters I failed to guess at because I didn't watch kid's TV.

  Grown-up time was definitely over.

  Vicky and I would talk again tomorrow. Maybe. I went to leave then cursed as I realized Ivan had left me without a way to get back to the city. Where was my bloody car? I called Ivan and after an annoying wait was told his goon had dropped it in the city center, the muppet. So I called a taxi and got taken for a ride, both literally and monetarily. Goddamn, no wonder people used apps to call for services where anybody with a vehicle could act as a taxi.

  When I got to my car, I realized I hadn't asked Ivan where his new place was, so messaged him and got given the address. It sounded just about right. Still grungy enough to satisfy the guys on the street, but comfortable for him too. He'd hated his swanky apartment so had finally found something more suitable. Not that I planned on visiting him, but it was best to have the information just in case.

  And so it was, by mid-morning, that I found myself at somewhat of a loose end. I'd been up all night, unable to sleep so I'd prowled the city streets, had a workout, something to eat, other stuff you don't need to know about, so I was running on fumes now. Somehow, I made it back to my semi in the city, went through my portal, got in another car once I exited the gate at the barn, drove home to the farm, and only felt the weight of the world shucked off my shoulders when I took off my boots, walked through my house, and entered the delight that was my kitchen.

  Ah, my beautiful kitchen. Clean, tidy, sparkling, and mine. I'd upgraded several items these last few months, so the cooker still had clean grills, the oven shone as once they get dirty even the most obsessive of wizards can't get them clean, even with magic, and I'd bought one of those crazy expensive taps that give instant boiling water and has a hose to help clean up. I'd also upgraded the coffee machine until I had my own mini cafe, a model Candy had approved of and helped me pick.

  Going shopping with a woman had felt impossibly strange, something I hadn't done for the longest time, although George had dragged me around clothes stores once and I nearly had a seizure. But this was different, proper shopping with a purpose. We'd laughed and joked, had fun, and for once I'd actually felt like a normal human being.

  I started the gleaming black and chrome machine and pottered about making myself coffee, enjoying the quiet and sense of familiar, then sat with a sweet Americano at my table and just soaked up the silence.

  For the next hour I went over the conversation we'd had with Ivan, the revelations, the gaps in it all and the things left unsaid, probably unasked, and tried to figure out how it would impact my future, and Vicky's. It honestly didn't make a lot of difference. Carmichael was still the face of Cerberus, they still wanted all the artifacts, and he'd still be after my blood, vampire or not. It was valuable information nonetheless, but what was more valuable was the information about vampires themselves.

  I'd known that their strength lay in how strong their maker was, but hadn't quite understood how it worked or the true significance and disparity between them all. Or how they fed. I'd assumed some were basically monsters, killers of the innocent, but Ivan, same as other vampires, insisted that wasn't the case and I was prone to believe him. They were people, sort of, and most people would balk at murder.

  But a hundred thousand of them? That was a lot. I wondered why there was a limit, but decided som
e things just had to be accepted. So that's what I did.

  Most importantly of all, and what concerned me above all else, was the job. How the hell was I going to achieve this? Could I? Yes, I could, because then I'd owe Ivan nothing, satisfy the vampires, and really piss off Carmichael and Cerberus.

  And then there was Vicky. She was acting too content with her new place, and I could see it was a facade. She was wired, looking for trouble, and it was only a matter of time before she went off the rails again. If I could have kept her out of this I would have, but that wasn't an option as if I tried, she'd get herself into even more trouble.

  So, all I had to do was keep Vicky contained, keep the vampires happy, not get myself killed, and go steal what couldn't be stolen. Shouldn't be a problem, not for The Hat.

  I smiled at my own joke. This was impossible; I was screwed. Maybe I could leave the country, buy a hut on a remote island somewhere and live out my days eating coconuts and lazing in a hammock. Maybe I'd even sleep.

  At the thought, I drained my coffee and hauled my sorry ass upstairs to try to get some shut-eye.

  Panic Stations

  I woke up with a start, head pounding, tongue feeling like somebody had knitted it a little sweater then slipped it on while I slept fitfully. I also needed to pee real bad.

  Once relieved, at least in the bladder sense, I stumbled about my bedroom in my birthday suit and tried not to look at myself in the mirror. I failed miserably. Everyone's drawn to the scene of the crime, right?

  Eventually, I gave up all pretense, and took a long hard look at myself. Candy and I had been doing all right, taking it slow, going out on dates, getting to know each other, even had a nice fumble, but that was as far as it had gone. I was surprised at myself, as my lust levels were high and so were her breasts, but I hadn't tried anything on and she hadn't had to slap me silly.

  But, if things went well, there would come a time when I'd bring her up to my bedroom and we'd get naked. The thought of it was awesome, at least the her being naked part, but me, not so much. I'd been visiting Beast more often, watching what I ate, even tried taming the hair and beard, but the stubble kept growing, the hair seemed to live by a set of rules that had different ideas about gravity to the rest of me, and said gravity was being stubbornly insistent about dragging my flesh down low.