The Victorious Redemption Complete Series Boxed Set, page 107
Only for the fucker to return again.
Her anger grew with each round. The Vrolocks appeared undeterred by her aggression, seeking their food, and as shapes shifted in the darkness, Jasmine grew afraid. How many of these damned things lived in this coven—
—not coven, brood—
—and would they attack her, too?
Jasmine clenched her teeth and popped her claws. Her impatience waned, finding no solace in a simple attack. The original Vrolock came to her, and she drove her claws up into his hip. The Vrolock screeched an ungodly sound, filling the barn and the night sky with pain. It struggled on her fingertips, screeching when Jasmine sharply withdrew her claws and left a gaping wound in his side.
The other two continued their assault. Jasmine worked to clear enough room from each of them to get some advantage. She slashed at one, but he hopped back, avoiding the strike by millimeters. She turned her attention to the other, but then the first darted to nearby hay bales and launched himself at her.
She jabbed her claws skyward, and the creature impaled itself on them. She swung her arm to slam him onto the dirt floor and stepped back, and his teeth chomped into her stomach. A horrid sucking sound accompanied the effort of Vrolock sucking her blood—such as it was.
“I am not a drinking fountain,” Jasmine declared and ripped the vampire away. A chunk of her flesh came with him. She saw his eyes alight with greed, even as her stomach worked to heal itself over.
The first vampire was also already healing, though slower than Jasmine. She slashed at the nearest vampire and managed to deter him for only a matter of seconds before the first came back for another bite.
More movement lined the fringes of the barn. Jasmine’s eyes widened. Desperation surged within her, and she hacked and clawed and scratched and slashed at everything and anything around her. She hoped Qadir had gotten some distance away while she shredded the Vrolocks until they finally stopped attacking. Their bodies rose and fell with their breaths, barely holding themselves together. They clutched their stomachs and arms, and their skin slowly healed. Crim dripped to the ground and was lapped up by the greedy earth.
Jasmine held her stance, prepared for another onslaught.
Something hissed at the back of the room.
The Vrolocks straightened, noses wrinkling.
Another hiss sounded.
They kept their gaze on Jasmine, stepping back reluctantly when a creature that was larger than the individuals and just as haunting stepped into the light.
The woman was ancient, haggard, decrepit. Each step was a hobble, though Jasmine knew this was only a deception. If she wanted to, she could sweep toward her and attack. Her energy and her power were written in those deep, wizened eyes. She held a cane that clicked against the ground, and a battered gray shawl was draped over one shoulder.
Somewhere behind Jasmine, something shifted. She only hoped it was Qadir and not more of those damned things readying to strike. She tensed, wriggling her claws.
The woman didn’t bat an eye.
The woman lifted her head, her twisted and gnarled face screwed into a strange concentration. Her skin was a pale purple, and she had red eyes, unlike the yellow eyes of the others. She looked down her nose at Jasmine, a shaft of moonlight illuminating the edge of her features and casting them in a ghostly light.
“They started it,” Jasmine proclaimed. “I didn’t want to…”
The woman held up a hand to quiet her. A figure stepped beside Jasmine, and she was pleased to find Qadir standing there.
“Momma Giselle,” Qadir declared with a low bow of his head. “I can only apologize for the intrusion and for my associate’s…hasty behavior.”
Associate? Jasmine thought. Intrusion? I thought we were invited.
The woman narrowed her eyes. She eyed Jasmine up in the same way the former Vrolocks had, and Jasmine tensed once more.
Qadir placed a hand on her shoulder.
“We have business,” Qadir stated. “This was not meant to turn into a scrap. You promised us a discussion. You promised us your ear. I know that you Vrolocks are a proud people. Do you hold to your word, or do I set my dog free on your brood?”
A shadow passed over Momma Giselle’s eyes. She thought long and hard before finally replying, each word painfully slow and drawn. “Your dog is an impressive creature. Many would buckle and drown under siege of my people. This one has boldness in her, enough to cloud her mind and inflate her ego, but nonetheless, she has my attention.”
Jasmine looked at Qadir for confirmation of what her tone meant. Qadir held the woman’s gaze. “If you think that she is impressive, then you must understand the threat I have mentioned. Her father is the enemy, and it is to this threat that we request that you respond.”
Jasmine studied the lines on Qadir’s face and measured his words. That motherfucker wanted me to be attacked. It was the only way to prove that I am who he says I am. How many more fights do I have to have to prove that this shit is real, and everyone will be affected if we cannot win?
“I still fail to see our entry into your feud,” Momma Giselle announced, slowly sweeping an arm to the silhouetted figures scattered around the barn. Yellow eyes winked in the darkness. “We are a quiet people. For centuries we have existed in the shadows, and it is here we find succor. We do not partake in the conflicts of the modern beasts, for we find no pleasure or reward great enough to sacrifice our humble existence. Though your associate has caught our attention, we still see little reason to engage.”
She stared for a long while at Qadir. Qadir kept himself composed, a feat that Jasmine admired, given how angry he had been moments before they entered the barn. Something stoic in his appearance and his stony composure gave him stature and hinted at the leader Qadir could one day become.
Qadir inhaled sharply. “It is because of your people that you should be concerned.”
A shadow passed over Momma Giselle’s face. “You dare to threaten us, worm?”
Jasmine shuddered, thinking of the Queen and her insects.
“No,” Qadir replied calmly. “It is not me threatening you. It is Tylindale MacConaugh and his agenda. We have received word that the necromancer is draining your kind, harvesting them for Crim. It is he who is rounding up your kin and spilling the blood from their bodies, not us. We are on your side. We have our own reasons for stopping him, but this one is for you.”
Momma Giselle studied Qadir for a long moment. Her gaze flickered to Jasmine, her lip curling into a snarl and revealing her own daggers in her gums. “You lie.”
“No,” Qadir stated firmly. “We don’t. All of those vampires in the city, your descendants, those whom you may not be connected to but who represent all that you are, they’re in danger. If Tylindale rounds them all up and spills their blood, who’s to say he won’t find you? We need to act, and we need to act now.”
Momma Giselle narrowed her eyes. She fixed her gaze on Jasmine. “And what he says is true?”
Jasmine nodded. “Every word. My father is a monster. A dangerous monster. There is nothing he won’t do to achieve his goals, even if that means destroying every supernatural creature from here to LA. Now is the time.”
Momma Giselle swept her gaze over her people and then back to Qadir. She stepped closer, towering almost a foot taller than the necromancer. “If what you say is true, you may count us as your allies.” She backed away again, and her stale scent swept over the pair. Her tongue flicked over her lips. “If we discover that you have deceived us, we will find you. No matter where you hide, we have your scent in our nostrils. We will find you, and we will kill you, understood?”
Qadir stared unflinchingly back. “Understood.”
She turned to Jasmine.
“Understood,” Jasmine confirmed. “Thank you.”
Momma Giselle stood to her full height and stared at the moon through the slit in the ceiling. “It’s a wondrous thing, this world. To have walked the earth for so many years and yet to have never experienced the full limit and breadths of such atrocities… Every time you think you’ve seen it all, something springs up and surprises you.” She turned to study Jasmine. “There has never been a creature on the earth such as you. Even I can sense that through a simple smell. There may never be again.”
Jasmine didn’t know how to respond. For once, she kept her mouth shut.
She could tell that Qadir was thankful.
The journey home was as painful as the journey to the Vrolocks.
Jasmine’s body had healed, though her clothes showed the story of the attack from the ancient vampires. Occasionally she would look down at yet another t-shirt that had been ruined by the night’s events. Had it not been for her piles of clothing and the remnants of the riches Deshawne had involuntarily gifted, plus her work with Dimitri, she would be struggling. How was a girl supposed to live like this? She thought of The Incredible Hulk and wondered why she had never seen a storyline of Bruce Banner raiding clothes shops and stockpiling for the inevitable days when he hulked out and destroyed his wardrobe.
Qadir directed Jasmine and said little else. As they sailed through the dark, Jasmine cycled through the situation that had just played out. A hypocrisy kept nagging at her, and although she fought the urge to make things worse, she couldn’t help but spill it to Qadir.
“And you said my choice of ally was bad…” Jasmine kept her gaze fixed ahead, hands at ten and two.
She heard Qadir’s annoyance in his intake of breath. “Do you really want to go there?”
“Why not?” Jasmine replied, getting steadily more irritated with how this new version of Qadir spoke to her, as though she were a petulant child. “Let’s see where it goes?”
Qadir didn’t rise to the bait. When he spoke, it was with grace and calm that Jasmine actually admired. “The Vrolocks and the Queen are incomparable. They are of two different creations, with two different stories.”
“Yet your guys still tried to eat me,” Jasmine replied. “I don’t think you’d say the same if you were the one being drunk like a milkshake by those fuckers.”
Qadir shifted in his seat. “The Vrolocks are not good guys. You are right. They are monsters and creatures of dereliction and depravity. They have shriveled and withered to monstrous beings over time, through centuries of isolation, but Momma Giselle’s ambitions are small, and her followers are few.”
“I’m not sure that any of us are ‘good guys,’” Jasmine commented.
Qadir continued, undeterred. “The Queen, on the other hand, has ambitions that are great. All Momma Giselle wants is for her people to be fed and to prevent human interference in the tribe. The Queen wants domination. She is a megalomaniac. On a scale of zero to insanity, she sits at the top, alongside your father.”
Jasmine couldn’t argue there.
“The problem with the Queen,” Qadir pressed, “is that the only thing standing between herself and her ambitions is your father. She may seem to align with us now, but what happens once your father is removed from the picture? What’s to prevent her from achieving her goals, striving to take his place? We’re just replacing one problem with another. There is no win here.”
Jasmine nodded, unable to disagree. “You’re right. She’s dangerous and deadly and a fucking psychopath at heart. I don’t deny that. I can’t. I fully expect for her to turn around and bite us in the ass when this is all over, but you know that would happen whether she was engaged in the fight or not. At least this way, we have a chance to remove at least one of the hydra’s heads before the other comes back at us. As it is, it’s a stalemate of evil. We need to break this cycle and clear out the pipes. At least with her on our side, we can get a glimpse into our enemy. It’s better having her ‘with’ us than ‘against’ us, don’t you think? With the knowledge we gain along the way, we might learn something valuable that can help us in the next phase of this battle.”
Jasmine’s words lingered in the air for a moment.
Qadir shook his head, repeating Jasmine’s words. “The next phase…”
Jasmine’s lips thinned. She hated to think about what happened after she defeated her father, but she knew there would always be another asshole ready to fill the gap in evil and take advantage of the situation.
Jasmine continued. “Whether we like it or not, at least this way, we can see all of the pieces the Queen has on the board. I get your point about the Vrolocks, though it doesn’t take away the fact that people won’t stop trying to kill, eat, or hurt me.”
Qadir glanced at Jasmine, a wry smile on his face.
He turned back to face the window, falling back into silence once Jasmine recognized the streets and led them back to the Nest.
Not long later, she pulled up outside the bar. She pulled the handbrake and switched off the engine. “You can come in for a drink if you want. There’s no need to always rush off when we’re done with our task.”
Qadir considered this. “I don’t know, Jasmine.”
“Please,” Jasmine insisted. “There was a time when we felt like friends.”
Qadir looked at her earnestly and sighed. “Fine. Not for a drink, but I would like to say hello to Ivan.”
They exited the car.
Qadir’s face darkened.
“What is it?” Jasmine asked.
Qadir broke out of his thoughts. “It’s just…you’re right. This life gets lonely sometimes.”
Jasmine rounded the car and put an arm across Qadir’s shoulder. “You’re preaching to the choir, sir.”
Jasmine chuckled and guided Qadir through the door. She expected the place to be empty, to find Ivan scrubbing down tables and the lights to be off. Instead, she noticed Rhonda sitting at the counter, facing away from the door. Nearby, Ivan was slow and stiff, serving a drink to Rhonda as though terrified that it would somehow burn him.
“Rhonda?” Jasmine called, releasing Qadir. “What are you doing out so late?”
As she drew nearer, Jasmine noticed with a cold clarity that it wasn’t Rhonda sitting there. The hair was too blonde. The girl’s legs were too short, dangling from the stool and kicking the air. The girl wore a bright pink hoodie, a crown dazzling on the back in gold sequins. Beneath the crown was written the legend: “That’s ‘Your Majesty’ to you.”
Jasmine froze, placing a hand across Qadir’s chest to stop him. He looked from Jasmine to the little girl, confusion on his face.
Realization dawned on his face. “Oh…” he muttered. He closed his eyes, circling his hands and drawing shapes. His palms glowed blue as the necromancer summoned his power to deal with his enemy. Jasmine grabbed his wrist and broke the spell, her gaze fixed on the little girl.
She moved closer and whispered. “Remain calm. If you cannot be polite to her, then you need to go. Now.”
The little girl on the stool giggled and accepted the drink from Ivan. The half-Domovoi‘s gaze flickered to the pair. Jasmine knew that the Queen knew they were there. She had to work out how to play the game.
Qadir was torn between staying and leaving. Jasmine could sense his hatred for the girl pouring over him. Although he had never met her, she didn’t blame him, knowing the stories and tales of the strange person who shouldn’t look this young.
“Well?” Jasmine asked.
“I’ll stay,” Qadir replied, reluctantly lowering his hands.
Jasmine led the way toward the bar and took a seat beside the Queen without meeting her gaze. Qadir took the other side, the pair flanking the childlike creature.
Jasmine held up a finger to Ivan. “Two whiskeys. Neat.”
Qadir gave her a disapproving look.
They remained silent while Ivan busied himself with their drinks. He presented them with two small glasses, both filled with amber liquid. Qadir ignored his and kept his gaze doggedly fixed ahead. Jasmine took hers and drained the drink in one, feeling nothing now that the moon had shifted phase.
Finally, she swung around to face the Queen. Again, she was disarmed by the girl’s appearance. Her cherub face sported rosy, red cheeks. Her eyes were bright and innocent, with braids pulled back tight on her head. If a cop came in now, they would likely fine Ivan and suspend his liquor license for serving minors in his establishment. The Queen grinned, swinging her legs beneath her.
“I didn’t expect to find you here,” Jasmine stated.
The Queen met her gaze, a wisdom beyond her years lost somewhere in the depths of her pupils. “I know. I’m a being of many surprises. You think I’d announce when you could expect me? I’d hardly have survived this long if I were stupid.”
Jasmine flinched against the jarring juxtaposition of the girl’s words and voice versus her appearance. She lowered her gaze, unsure what else to ask other than, “To what do we owe this unexpected pleasure?”
In her mind’s eye, Jasmine saw the Queen clicking her tongue and setting a command in action. She suspected every crevice and shadow of hiding a parasite, each one of them set to pour out and overwhelm Ivan, Jasmine, and Qadir. It would be easy, and it would be quick, and Jasmine would be the only one remaining after the onslaught.
She tensed, awaiting the Queen’s answer, trying to blink away the images.
The Queen shrugged coyly. “You don’t know?” She giggled, the sound like silver bells. “I’m here to discuss the extermination of your father, of course.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
They sat around a small table. Jasmine checked on Qadir every few seconds—a look in the necromancer’s eye suggested that he might try to kill the little girl at any minute.
“So, tell me your plan of attack,” the Queen instructed Jasmine. “You hunted me to employ my beings. Now tell me the path ahead.”
Jasmine and Qadir exchanged a glance.
The Queen snickered. Something shifted inside her hoodie. “You don’t have one, do you?”
Jasmine shifted in her chair. “We are currently scouting the area and drawing up a plan of attack. At the minute, we’re recruiting forces, drawing up our army to combat his. We have a reconnaissance team collecting intel, so we will know in a few days how best to penetrate his fortress and take him down.”
