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Bill of the Dead (Book 0.5): A Higher Calling Page 2
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My father had eschewed technology, holding disdain for modern ways. Though I was raised to respect that viewpoint, in recent years I’d accepted the wisdom of embracing automation – databases over parchment, cell phones over messenger birds, cars over horseback. I made it a point, however, to honor him by always remembering these were mere tools, not crutches to be relied upon. Balance in all things, even if some of those tools were more useful than others.
Speaking of which, I pushed a button to activate the rows of monitors. A few more taps upon the keyboard called up images that never failed to bring me joy. The face of my beloved filled the screens, augmented by recent surveillance reports from the operatives assigned to keep constant watch on him.
“One day soon, my love,” I said to the empty room as I gazed at video taken of him, noting that he’d gained a bit of weight as well as purchased a new pair of glasses. One of the more recent clips showed him at a park with a young girl, the offspring of his deceased friend. The child was of no concern, though, compared to the fact that my love was sitting alone. Excellent. My spies had informed me that his relationship with the Shining One had recently come to an end. It was inevitable from the start, an ill-advised relationship if ever the world had known one.
A vampire and a vampire slayer in love, a ridiculous concept back when they’d been empowered but equally as foolish now that both were mortal.
The fairy tales might speak of such forbidden love as romantic but those are for stupid children, nothing more. Those who have experienced this world know better. The only positive in his former lover’s favor was that their relationship did not end in wrath and bloodshed, as I’d originally expected. Had she dared to injure my love, I would’ve made certain she’d spent her last minutes screaming for mercy that was not forthcoming. Now, though, perhaps I’d consider sparing her life ... unless my beloved wished otherwise of course.
With the Shining One out of the way, the path for our togetherness lay before us. All I had to do was ensure his eyes did not stray elsewhere before we could consummate our...
The feed on the monitors cut out unexpectedly, as did the lights in the room, leaving me to wait patiently in total darkness. Approximately six seconds later the estate’s emergency generators kicked in and the monitors lit up again, but this time with footage of a different kind.
I recognized them as the manor’s security feeds, just as the intercom on my desk buzzed to life.
“Go ahead,” I said into the device as I beheld the assault taking place on screen. With the power out so, too, was the live feed, but in the case of cataclysmic failure the system was programmed to automatically play back the last minute of captured footage. It gave me a moment to consider that I was watching people die who were already dead.
Interesting that it should cause me to feel a momentary pang of regret.
“We’re tracking several armed intruders,” the voice of my security chief replied, pulling me from my thoughts. He was a former member of this country’s special forces who preferred going by the name of Paladin, ironic considering his somewhat checkered past.
“Your response?”
“Formulating one now. Whoever these guys are, they knew how to hit us. I’m getting negative responses from Alvarez, Chung, Zeta, and...”
“The authorities?” I asked, cutting him off. The dead could be counted later. Doing so now would only cause their number to multiply.
“Unaware as far as I know.”
“Good.” I had no interest in the American authorities becoming involved in whatever squabble some other party had with me, even less so in the parasites that followed in their wake with their cameras and investigative journalism.
“I’m activating vault protocol,” Paladin said.
“That will be unnecessary.”
“Sorry, ma’am, but I’m not asking.”
The connection abruptly cut off as the lights within my study began to flash red. It was an alert meant to tell whoever was in here at the time that the safe room had been engaged.
Less than a moment later, heavy steel barriers lowered over the three exits leading out, locking in place and sealing me inside.
A brief flash of annoyance flitted through my mind before I pushed it away. Much as a general in the field might override the command of an emperor hundreds of miles away so, too, was my chief of security allowed the luxury of countermanding me should he feel it best for my safety. Paladin was not aware of it, but he was perhaps the sole person in my employ who could do so and remain breathing.
Nevertheless, despite being trapped in the body of a child for the majority of my long life, I’d never been one to sit idle while others led my troops. Though as a mortal I possessed barely a fraction of my former strength, I was still formidable. Speed and skill could compensate a great deal against a physically superior opponent and I had both on my side, having kept up a strict regimen of combat training since becoming human.
Besides, as much faith as I put in my security chief, I put more into myself. The intruders, whoever they were, had taken out several competent guards already. That meant they were both skilled as well as versed in our defenses. Though Paladin meant well, his strategy was short-sighted. If these interlopers knew as much as seemed to be the case, it was prudent to assume they were aware of this safe room, including its specifications and tolerances.
The irony was not lost upon me. The very act of these trespassers making it far enough to ensure the safe room was activated likely meant it was the least safe place for me to remain in.
I began to rise then paused as a small part of me acknowledged the madness of what I was about to do. Regardless of the façade I put forth for others, I couldn’t lie to myself.
This was an excuse on my part, nothing more. In truth I was dispirited due to my continual failures. My current course of action at least promised a momentary reprieve from that depression, the rare self-doubt I was feeling.
I was no fool, though. I likewise knew this could very well turn into a permanent reprieve from all things – success, failure, and my beloved. Nevertheless, I walked over and opened the panel hidden behind one of the multihued tapestries hanging from the walls. Once, death had been the most minor of concerns. Even dire injuries would heal within minutes. Now, however, I was forced to admit I was vulnerable. A carefully placed shot, a knife slid between my ribs, even an expertly thrown punch could all prove fatal.
Yet, I felt no fear.
The doubt which had been eating at me faded away to nothing at the promise of combat. In battle there was a simplicity of being – action and reaction, no time to worry about one’s failures. Life and death were all that mattered. If I survived, so be it. But if death claimed me, it would find me waiting with no remorse upon my face.
Though the controls to the safe room could be overridden by my security chief, I had built in a failsafe known only to myself – the engineers who designed it having been repurposed as fodder for the endless rituals conducted on my behalf. I entered a twelve-digit code on the keypad then leaned in and provided a retina scan. A moment later, the heavy metal shutters began to retract.
An emergency weapons locker was hidden within a nearby display case, but I ignored it as I stepped to the more traditional armaments hanging nearby. The intercom on my desk buzzed frantically as I considered my choices – Paladin likely wondering what was going on – but I ignored it.
Ah, those will do nicely.
I grabbed a pair of razor sharp shuang gou off the walls. It had been a while since I’d practiced with them, but their hooked blades offered an excellent balance between offense and defense. There was no doubt they’d be next to useless against even small arms fire, much less anything larger, but I found myself willing to wager that the goal of these intruders wasn’t to kill me.
No. If it was, a well-placed sniper bullet at the Amherst Academy could have easily done the job, unseen and unexpected by all. An assault against my home, however, bespoke of a different purpose.
And because of that, the advantage was mine.
FIGHTING SPIRIT
Under the glare of the emergency lighting, the hallways of the manor took on a sinister glow. Long shadows held dominion over every corner, promising that any one of them could be hiding an assassin intent on ending my life.
Were I relying wholly on sight, perhaps I would have felt some intimidation at continuing onward, but I was no novice. There came the sound of gunfire, but it was slightly muffled, telling me the true battle was still a ways off.
Four years earlier, my sense of smell would’ve spoken volumes – telling me everything I needed to know about my opponents long before I caught sight of them. Fortunately, even a mortal nose could be keen enough to discern when a well-traveled path has been defiled and mine was telling me that the invaders had not yet reached this far.
Nevertheless, I was not alone.
The faint scent of perfume caught my nostrils. I glanced off to the side where I saw a figure huddled beneath a brass statue of the goddess Od Ana.
I tensed up for a moment but then relaxed my stance once I recognized her – a young woman, perhaps a year or two older than my physical age suggested. Her name was Emilyn and she worked in the kitchen, having joined my staff the prior month. I addressed her by name and called her over, the look of surprise on her face evident.
And why wouldn’t it be?
Servants such as she were used to being all but invisible to their masters, but I made it a point to know the names of all those in my direct employ, or at least those who I might expect to encounter. True loyalty could only be earned from those who respected their betters. To know a name might sound like the smallest of token gestures but, in fact, the opposite was true. To give a person a name was to elevate them, to show that they mattered ... even if their purpose in life was little more than cannon fodder.
“M-ma’am?”
Normally I would be annoyed at the hesitation but then I remembered I was armed. This was not a society of warriors. The mettle of this country’s youth was questionable at best, so such a thing was not surprising. In her eyes I was potentially the aggressor.
“Come here. There’s safety in numbers.”
“What’s happening? The lights went out and I thought I heard gunshots.”
“The manor has been breached by outside forces.”
“Outside forces? Who?”
“I don’t know, but fear not. My security detail has it well in hand.” An embellishment of the truth perhaps, but it served its purpose.
She nodded nervously and then approached, her head turning every which way as if expecting our attackers to materialize from thin air. “Is there any place we can hide until the police get here?”
I didn’t bother wasting time telling her that no such response was incoming. The entirety of my security network was kept off the grid, as was the common vernacular. However, there was also little point in giving the child any more reason to fear.
“You may hide within my study if you wish. Once you’re inside, I can activate the safe room protocol.”
Left unsaid was that if the invading forces did manage to make it this far, she would possibly offer a momentary distraction to them – being of similar height and build to me. If such a thing did not happen then that, too, would benefit me as she would remember my generosity in this time of strife.
“What about you?”
“I need to help coordinate the defense.”
“B-but isn’t that dangerous?”
I didn’t deem such a ridiculous inquiry worthy of a response. I merely stared at her until she dropped her gaze.
“I ... just don’t want to be alone.”
This was growing tiresome. “Stay or follow. The choice is yours. But know that I am heading toward the location of the breach. If you choose to join me, you’ll be responsible for your own safety.”
There came no answer, save a wide-eyed stare. So be it. I’d wasted more than enough time here. I had more important matters to concern myself with.
I turned away, readying to once more head toward the siege which had descended upon my stronghold.
It was the act of a single step for instinct to take over. I feinted to the side, a mere moment before the crackle of electricity reached my ears. I spun as the weapon, a stun gun, was jabbed into the spot where I’d stood a second earlier – a sloppy attack which left Emilyn off balance.
Before she could recover, I’d sidestepped around to her rear, bringing up one of the hook swords and positioning the curve of the blade against her throat.
“The kitchen is nowhere near my study,” I said dispassionately.
My captive froze, tensed her muscles, and then whispered in a low voice likely not meant for my ears, “White Mother protect me.”
She spun, bringing up the stun gun, and was rewarded by a quick jerk of my wrist which slit her throat before she could even cover half the distance between us.
In the next moment she dropped to the ground lifeless, her blood staining the tigerwood flooring beneath my feet. But that was of little concern compared to the oath she’d muttered before her ill-timed attack.
The White Mother was the venerated progenitor of the Magi, still revered among their number despite her recent return and subsequent destruction along with The Source. That meant this girl had been a witch, or perhaps an acolyte when her power was taken from her. I doubted this was merely a coincidence, a rogue witch having joined my staff seeking the most opportune moment to dispose of me. For starters, her weapon was meant to incapacitate, not kill. That aligned with my theory regarding the invaders’ motives.
The problem was, the assault still taking place had been coordinated, carried out with great skill, whereas this girl’s attack would’ve been easy to counter had I been both blind and deaf. Was she merely a victim of circumstance, being in the right place and time so as to attempt some half-thought out kidnapping attempt?
Either way, my chief of staff, a pompous buffoon of a man, was going to shortly find himself on the wrong side of my ire for allowing a Magi to slip onto my staff unnoticed.
♦ ♦ ♦
It didn’t take long to find the first bodies. Judging by the way they’d fallen, they’d been caught entirely unaware during the first moments of the attack. Among them was Batu. A pity. Replacing my father would be easy enough, though, I supposed. Counsellor Wellington, as well as the administrative staff of the Amherst Academy, firmly struck me as the types for whom those people all looked alike. In truth, I would’ve been sincerely surprised to discover they’d held a different attitude toward humanity in general back when they were still empowered.
But that was a minor concern, one for tomorrow. More pressing was the lack of bullet holes in the surrounding walls. Unlike Emilyn’s sloppy attack, this one had been precise. It bespoke of skill. Even the gunfire I’d heard had sounded controlled. I hadn’t noted many wild bursts of automatic gunfire, despite the video surveillance suggesting they were carrying weapons capable of such.
Almost as if in answer to my thoughts, there came a burst of weapons fire from not too far away, followed by the sound of pottery shattering and bullets ricocheting. I allowed myself a small moment to rue the apparent destruction of my meditation garden then strode forward in that direction, mindful to use the shadows to my advantage.
I still didn’t believe these people were here to kill me, now more than ever after seeing Emilyn’s choice of weaponry. However, that didn’t rule out the possibility of a stray bullet cutting me down. Though I didn’t fear a warrior’s death, dying via nothing more than a stupid accident was a thought which vexed me greatly.
♦ ♦ ♦
Upon reflection, I realized the indoor meditation garden was a perfect ambush point for Paladin to utilize. The space was large, with several boulders placed throughout, making for excellent cover. The floor was also primarily loose sand, meaning quick traversal by our adversaries would be made more difficult.
The previously controlled gunfire became more chaotic as I approached, telling me the intruders had no doubt realized this, too, and had switched to more brute force tactics. Sadly, I had a feeling the advantage in such a battle was theirs. I’d already encountered numerous bodies along the way, telling me at least some of their number had already made it past this point. As I hadn’t encountered any serious resistance yet, I had to conclude they were perhaps doubling back with the goal of stamping out any remaining opposition standing between them and myself.
It was a prudent course of action, which made Emilyn’s incompetence all the more puzzling.
Regardless, they were likely not counting on a counter ambush by their intended target.
The red glow cast by the emergency lighting was broken up by muzzle flashes from ahead. The entrance to the garden was open, the door apparently missing, likely battered off its hinges.
“Fall back!”
The voice of my security chief was measured and authoritative, belaying no fear or panic. Such calm in the face of likely defeat was rare in westerners, speaking to the fact that I’d chosen well in conscripting him to his current role. Assuming he survived this firefight, I would have to remember that.
Pushing all of that to the side, I began to focus on the conflict ahead – letting my ears tell me where the combatants inside were likely concentrated. The automatic fire was repeated, answered by only a few scattered return shots.
It was possible some of the intruders were purposefully pinning down my people as others circled the area to close in. As for Paladin and his men, I considered it likely they were running low on ammo by now. Perhaps I should’ve opted for the weapons locker in my study after all.
Alas, that opportunity had passed. Even had I still possessed the speed of the undead, I doubted I could have made it to my study and back in time to make a difference. No, whatever would happen in the next few minutes would be decided by the blades in my hands and the skill behind them.