Pandora's Box: Book 3 of the Crystal Raven Series

“Where have you been?” Angelique’s accusing words rang loudly in Delph’s ears, although they had been whispered.

He gave a guilty start. “I went to see the mortals about those anti-aircraft missiles from Iran. And…” He paused. “The Brotherhood has the last piece of their genocide weapon. We failed to wrest it from them. I made arrangements to save some of us if we should fail to stop them here.”

The memory of the meeting came back to him. He could still smell the saltwater in his nostrils from the long swim to England, still taste the thrill of slipping past his advisor and his minders to meet his Shadow Slayer escort. He had a half dozen of these now and was planning to acquire more. These were not trusted by their own kind and were often seeking protection and employment elsewhere. That they scared even Kagawa’s Hands was all Delph really cared about, that, and their unwavering loyalty to their paymaster. Protection, a few victims to feed on, and they were his….

Diving into the rocky waters below an isolated stretch of cliff, the seven had disappeared beneath the surface. Even though this stretch of water was thick with submarine patrols from a dozen nations, the seas between here and England were too vast to close completely. The invasion of Turkey had taught the mortals how quickly a vampyre could swim underwater, making the trip around Gibraltar to England’s north shore in a matter of hours where no human could. Wet and not fazed by either exhaustion or cold, his team had reached the shores of England shortly before one am. The darkness and late hour had helped them slip ashore unnoticed.

The misty fens of England were still a forlorn and lonely place even in this modern day of streetlights and highways. It was a perfect setting to meet a creature such as this. Whether human or demon, it was so aged, stooped and shapeless that it defied classification. Even when the Vampyres still lived in their homeland in Transylvania, it was known to have a knack for making arrangements. It was what had drawn Delph here.

Local legend called it the will-o-wisp, and folklore talked of it luring unwary travellers to their deaths on foggy nights. The area certainly had plenty of them, and Delph knew demons fed not only on fear and pain but on death as well. Coming here without a sacrifice was risky, but he had brought something better – he had brought his Shadow Slayers. Most creatures, other than Archangels, cast shadows. Urban legends to the contrary, even he had a shadow to fall prey to these denizens of Hell. He wondered, being Archangels themselves, whether Hsatan and his lords of Hell cast shadows, but now wasn’t the time for such musing.

They were deep in the fens now. The land alternated between misty bogs and rocky hillocks. The few pathways that led into the fens were impossible to follow in the thick fog that was rising with the night. No legend was needed to explain travellers wandering to their deaths. Still, it was here, somewhere, waiting on them. Delph had no intention of playing its game. He would lure it to him and had come prepared to do so.

He nodded to his Shadow Slayers and had them kill the goat they had stolen from a nearby farm. Its panicked cries rose to fill the night, echoing eerily in the fog. It wasn’t a clean kill. Shadow Slayers had a cruel bent and enjoyed playing with their prey when they could. Delph did not care. Its suffering fit with his current plans, knowing the cries of pain and panic would attract the will-o-wisp the same way blood in the water attracted sharks. It hunted death and dying, savouring those last moments the same way a child savoured ice cream. The lure would be irresistible.

Lights bounced off the fog in an undefined direction. It was coming. Like tiny fireflies during a mating dance, the lights zoomed and winked and circled in intricate patterns, growing in intensity as it neared. The Shadow Slayers faded back into the darkness at a signal from Delph until it appeared he was waiting alone with the goat.

“This is my place, bloodsucker,” it hissed in a sibilant whisper.

“And I don’t dispute that death eater,” Delph replied calmly. “I came here to bargain.”

“And what service would you ask of me and expect only to pay a goat?” It hissed. “Perhaps I should help myself to your death.”

“I will have your death before you could get close enough to taste mine,” Delph replied, signalling his Shadow Slayers. “Even in darkness, you cast a shadow.”

Its hiss of frustration sounded like a rising breeze as it saw the six Shadow Slayers step out from the darkness, cutting it off from the safety of the fens. It did not like to bargain unless it was in a position of strength, but the will-o-wisp was a survivor.

“And what service do you seek?”

“Access to a Null Fortress for myself and fifty of my closest followers in exchange for one hundred souls,” Delph replied easily.

“Five hundred souls,” it pressed, never thinking he would accede.

“Very well,” Delph waved a hand dismissively. “At the time of my choosing, my followers and I will be transported to the Null Fortress in exchange for five hundred souls. The deal has been struck.”

“Perhaps I should have asked for one thousand souls,” the will-o-wisp complained.

“Perhaps,” Delph shrugged. “But the bargain has been struck. Enjoy your goat.”

He blinked, and Angelique was standing before him. She studied him for a long moment, noting the slight tang of salt that clung to him. “And who or what did you need to see to make arrangements for ‘our safety’?”

“We did not anticipate the mortals would join the battle so quickly,” Delph explained. “And our allies in South America and Asia are not distracting them as they had promised. Now that they have completed their Doomsday device, we must prepare for every eventuality until we know more about how it works.”

“Wise,” Angelique nodded. “And what do your preparations entail?”

“Access to a sanctuary for fifty of our most trusted supporters,” Delph sighed.

“I wonder,” Angelique replied archly. “If I had not caught you at it, would you have told me about your plans?”

“I am not my father, my lady.”

Delph needed to change. And to escape the emotional resonance of his parents’ failed marriage that had devolved into a long series of betrayals and plots against the other. In an hour, the High Council was meeting, and to go along with the litany of complaints and setbacks, he had only two pieces of good news – his agent had been elected pope, and the new anti-aircraft missiles and training were now available. Neither would change the complexion of the stalemate on the battlefield, only help them hold out until Asia and South America came to the attention of the Human nations. And Delph had a plan to ensure this happened sooner rather than later.

Taking a seat, Delph cut through the initial scraping of chairs and shuffling of papers before the cloud of accusations could rise.

“We need to open a second front.”

“And where do you plan to find the troops for that?” Kagawa demanded.

“The creatures in South America will do nicely,” Delph replied easily, “don’t you think?”

“I thought our agreement prohibits our interfering with their spheres of influence.”

“It does,” Delph replied. “That is why we must be careful when we leak this footage. I think several well-chosen sites and blogs on the internet would suffice.”

The footage in question had been taken on a cell phone. It’s sometimes blurry picture depicted the top of one of the ancient Aztec temples, where the blood of hundreds of victims painted the stone a brilliant crimson. On a temple so soaked in blood, it was now black, a young man screamed as a knife descended, tearing his still-beating heart from his chest. The clawed hand that held it belonged to a creature the likes of which even Hollywood special effects artists could not duplicate…..

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

I currently live in London, Ontario. When I am not working on my own writing, I can be found at a local high school, where I teach novel writing to a group of teenagers.