Dark War

• • • •

Reaching Varvara's penthouse turned out to be easier than I thought. Because demons are so selfcentered, once they realize they can't win a fight, they immediately focus on doing whatever is necessary to save their asses, and to blazes with whatever cause they were fighting for. Word must've spread quickly among the Demonkin's ranks, because by the time we were actually inside Demon's Roost, few of Varvara's people remained to give us any trouble. I'd been keeping an eye out for Scorch the whole time – I wanted to make sure we didn't accidentally hurt her on our way to Varvara's stronghold – but I saw no sign of the demoness. Either she was stationed elsewhere in the Sprawl or she'd taken off when she heard we were coming. I was glad. Scorch is tough, but I knew she couldn't stand against the holy weapons the Hidden Light had loaned us.

The elevator to Varvara's penthouse was unguarded, and while I wasn't thrilled at the idea of taking it, I was even less thrilled at the prospect of walking up a dozen flights of stairs.

"Are you sure it's safe?" Varney said through his hazmat hood.

Before I could answer, Shamika said, "It is. Gregor has eyes everywhere. He's known we were coming since we engaged that first squad of demons. If he didn't want us to use the elevator, he'd have disabled it."

"Maybe he booby-trapped it," Varney pointed out. "Wouldn't Gregor love it if we fought all this way to reach Demon's Roost only to get crushed in a falling elevator?"

Shamika shook her head. "I know how my brother thinks. He'll want to see me, if for no other reason than to tell me that he's right and I'm wrong." She looked at me. "And he'll want to have words with you too, Matt."

I said, "That's good, because I have a few things to say to him myself."

I pressed the elevator's up button.

No Muzak played as we ascended, which was just as well. I hate Muzak.

Varvara's penthouse-cum-war-room was empty, with the exception of the Demon Queen herself and General Klamm. The computer stations around the room were vacant and their monitors were black. The holo table in the middle of the room was still active, though, and it currently displayed an image of Demon's Roost. Klamm stood at the table, Varvara beside him.

Klamm smiled when he saw us.

"Welcome! You made it just in time for the closing act in our little drama. Matthew, Varney…" He gave both of us nods of greeting before turning his attention to Shamika. " Sister," he said, his false bonhomie giving way to derision. "Ready to see the error of your ways?"

I examined Varvara more closely. Her expression was blank, and she stared off into space as if she wasn't aware of our presence.

"Let me guess," I said. "Once Varvara was weakened by using her power to create a new force field over the Grotesquerie, you were able to implant one of your bugs inside her and control her."

Klamm – Gregor – smiled. "That was my real reason for releasing the creatures and disabling the Grotesquerie's force-field generators. Of course, if you'd gotten squashed in the process, I wouldn't have cried about it. But I suppose you can't have everything, can you? Taking control of Varvara was the main thing. As General Klamm, I could only do so much to manipulate her – and through her, her demons – but once she was under my complete control, all the Demonkin were under my power. It made things so much easier."

"I'm surprised you were able to gain her trust with your General Klamm persona," I said. "Varvara knows all of her people. She must've been quite puzzled when a new demon suddenly appeared in town."

"Which was why I killed the real Klamm and assumed his form," Gregor said. "He was a mid-level functionary in Varvara's service, but once I 'became' him, I was able to use my abilities to refashion Klamm as a highly effective intelligence-gatherer. After that, it was just a matter of time until I made myself invaluable to Varvara, and when Talaith attacked, I stepped forward to help and she made me her second in command." He turned to Varvara and smiled. "The fool. She allows her passions to rule her far more than any Other I've ever met. Manipulating her was far easier than I'd ever imagined."

Seeing Varvara like this, I knew my original plan wasn't going to work. I'd hoped that if we could reach her, we could tell her the truth about who and what Klamm really was, and she'd deal with him. Now it looked like we were on our own. We were well armed, thanks to Maggie Holstrom, but as Gregor wasn't actually a demon, I wasn't certain any of our holy weapons would work against him. And even if they did, this one body wasn't really Gregor – not all of him, at any rate. It was just one manifestation of a much larger consciousness. Besides, I didn't want to kill him just yet. He had information I needed.

"Where's Devona?" I demanded. "If you've harmed her…"

"You'll what?" Gregor said. "Continue talking at me in a threatening tone of voice?" He smirked. "No need to fear, Matthew. Your paramour is fine. She's with me elsewhere, helping me complete my ultimate objective."

"Along with the magic-users you abducted," I said. Gregor nodded. "And Darius. It's not as if you haven't worked that much out for yourself. But do you know what I'm doing?"

"You've set up a war to distract the Darklords from your real plan, which is transporting Nekropolis to Earth," I said. "But why? I thought you wanted to destroy the Darkfolk, not relocate them."

"I think I understand," Shamika said. "Gregor's real motive is to be alone once again. He doesn't really care how that happens. Sure, it would be better if the Darkfolk were all dead. Then he would be assured of being alone. But there are so many of them, and as a group they're too powerful to easily destroy. But if he can return them all to Earth-"

"The hated Others would be gone, and life could return to the way it was before they came here," Gregor said. "You remember what it was like, sister. We were One then. It was so peaceful, so… perfect."

"Maybe so," Shamika admitted. "But it was boring, too. I didn't know how boring until the Darkfolk arrived."

Gregor's face clouded over. "We didn't invite them to come here, and they didn't ask our permission to build a city in our world! They were nothing more than invaders!"

As much as I hated to admit it, I could see Gregor's point. The Darkfolk – whether through ignorance or because they just didn't care enough to check – had chosen a new home that was already inhabited. And while I couldn't blame him for being less than pleased with the situation, I couldn't condone how he was going about trying to remedy it.

"Has it never occurred to you that maybe you should try to accept the way things are, whether you like it or not, and attempt to make peace with the Darkfolk?" I asked.

Gregor answered as if he were explaining a simple fact to a particularly slow child. "Otherness is an aberration, Matthew. An infection. The only way to deal with it effectively is to cast it out – which is precisely what I intend to do."

Varney had been silent up to this point, but now he removed the hood of his curseweave protective suit. He said nothing, but his cyber-eye glowed red and a thin beam of energy lanced out and bored through Gregor's head, right between the eyes. Gregor just stood there, smiling, and when Varney's beam winked out, the blackened hole in Gregor's flesh quickly repaired itself.

Varney shrugged. "I didn't think it would work, but it was worth a try."

"Nice shooting anyway," I said.

Varney looked at Gregor. "Seeing as how you didn't have the good grace to die when I zapped you, tell me this: even if you succeed in transporting Nekropolis to Earth, what makes you think the Darkfolk won't simply return? And when they come back, your existence will no longer be a secret. All the Darkfolk will be aware of you, and they'll all be prepared to fight you. You may be powerful, and you may be able to destroy many of us, but you can never kill all of us."

"All true," Gregor conceded. "Which is why I intend to transport Nekropolis to an Earth city. I'm not sure what the ultimate effect will be. It's possible Nekropolis and the Earth city will merge into an entirely new metropolis. It's equally possible the two won't be able to coexist in the same dimensional space, resulting in a truly spectacular explosion. Either way, the Darkfolk will become known to humanity, and once the humans realize the monsters from their legends and folklore truly exist, they will hunt you down and slaughter you with a ruthlessness that I couldn't hope to match. And these aren't the same humans the Darkfolk left behind four hundred years ago. They've had centuries to develop new ways of killing, far more deadly and efficient than simple wooden stakes and silver bullets. They may create a genetically engineered virus that targets only Darkfolk. They may find a way to 'cure' you and make you just like them. Or they may simply use nuclear weapons to reduce you to radioactive dust. Whatever they choose, there are far more of them than there are of you, and in many ways they're worse monsters than you could ever hope to be." Gregor's mouth stretched into a slow, satisfied smile. "The Darkfolk won't have a chance."

I'd lived on Earth most of my life, and I feared Gregor was right – which made it even more vital that we stop him.

I started to speak, but I once again experienced the strange sensation of my missing right hand moving. But this time it was accompanied by a strange feeling of pressure, as if my hand were being gripped tight and something sharp pressed into my palm. I did my best to ignore it. When you've got a bad guy speechifying about his ultimate plan, the best thing to do is keep him talking as long as possible. If nothing else, it buys you time to think of ways to kick his ass and maybe, if you're lucky, save your own skin in the process.

"You're bluffing," I said. "If you could transport Nekropolis to Earth, you'd have done it by now. You've already tried a couple times and failed."

"Those weren't serious attempts at transport," Gregor said. "They were calibration runs to help me set the dimensional coordinates and determine the final power levels needed. Everything is now ready. Darius is the key to opening the dimensional gateway, and the magic-users will power the device that allows me to direct his abilities. Only one thing remains: I need to gather the raw energy to initiate Nekropolis' transport."

"And where do you intend to find it?" I asked.

Gregor gestured at the holo image of Demon's Roost on the table before him. Four red dots appeared in the air above the image, followed by several dozen smaller ones.

Gregor looked at me and grinned. "It's true the war made a useful distraction as I went about my work, but it wasn't only a distraction."

Thin beams of light emerged from the four larger red dots and streaked down toward the holographic version of Demon's Roost.

"Get down!" I shouted. I threw myself to the floor, grabbing hold of Shamika's arm on the way and pulling her with me. Varney joined us just as a huge explosion rocked the penthouse. For several moments all I knew was light and noise, and it felt as if the building was shaking itself apart beneath me. But then the rumbling died away and the smoke began to clear, and I became cautiously optimistic that I hadn't been blasted into several trillion atoms.

I opened my eyes. Shamika lay next to me, covered with a fine layer of dust.

I shook her gently. "Are you OK?"

She opened her eyes. "I think so." Then she smiled. "That was exciting! Do you think it'll happen again? Do you think it'll be even louder next time?"

"Let's hope not." I stood and helped Shamika to her feet. I turned to check on Varney. The vampire appeared unscathed, and he rose to his feet easily. Gregor and Varvara seemed unharmed as well, and both continued standing by the holo-display table. Gregor was looking up into the sky – for the penthouse no longer had a roof – and he was grinning from ear to ear.

Hovering above us were the three Weyward Sisters, along with several dozen Arcane men and woman riding various flying devices – brooms and flying carpets being particular favorites. But in front of all them, standing in mid-air as if on solid ground, was Talaith. Unlike Varvara, she hadn't donned a faux military uniform. The queen of the Arcane wore her usually austere Puritan dress, but she was wreathed in crackling mystic energy, and power rolled off her in almost seismic waves. Behind her the sky was filled with black clouds and lightning lanced forth from them as she spoke, her voice echoing like thunder.

"Varvara! For the transgressions you have committed against me and my people, I demand that you surrender your Dominion to me at once! If you refuse, I will destroy you and burn your stronghold to the ground! And afterward I shall begin the systematic slaughter of all the Demonkin! When I am through, not a single stinking demon will be left in this city, and I will see your name purged from the history of the Darkfolk! It will be as if you never existed, hell-bitch! So what is it to be? Dishonor or death? Choose swiftly, or I shall choose for you!"

Gregor didn't take his eyes off Talaith, but he whispered something to Varvara out of the side of his mouth. The Demon Queen had shown not so much as the slightest reaction to the destruction of her penthouse, no reaction to anything. Under Gregor's control she'd been more of a zombie than I'd ever been. But now she smiled serenely.

"Go suck a wand, you spell-slinging cunt."

I didn't think it was possible for Talaith to look any angrier than she already did, but somehow she managed. She let out an inarticulate cry of rage and stabbed a hand toward Varvara. A torrent of energy streamed forth from the Witch Queen's fingers like water released from a high-pressure hose, but Varvara made no move to defend herself. I started forward, hoping the Coat of Every Color might be able to repel Talaith's mystic blast, but knowing that even if it could, I'd never be able to reach Varvara in time. But as it turned out, I didn't have to.

Gregor swiftly removed a metal device from his uniform pocket. It looked something like a miniature lightning rod, and he held it out in front of Varvara. The rod absorbed every bit of Talaith's blast, and when it was finished, Varvara continued to stand there, blank-faced but unharmed.

Talaith looked more puzzled than upset.

"What was that?" she asked softly, almost as if speaking to herself.

"A little something I stole from Victor Baron when he wasn't looking," Gregor said. "Now, if you'll all excuse me for a moment, I need to transfer this." He pointed the rod skyward and then released the energy the device had collected. It streaked off into the sky, missing all the hovering Arcane and disappearing off into the darkness.

Gregor smiled and let out a satisfied sigh. "That turned out to be easier than I thought." He looked at me then. "Well, Matthew, this is farewell. I have work to do, and I no longer need this particular body. I hope you enjoy your trip back to Earth." Then he turned to Shamika. "Why don't you go with them, sister? There's no place for you here anymore."

Then without another word, he dropped the lightning rod and his General Klamm body broke apart into dozens of black insects which skittered away in all directions.

Talaith and her Arcane soldiers gazed down at us with perplexed expressions, unsure what had just happened and what, if anything, they should do about it. I took the opportunity to go to Varvara. I'd hoped that Gregor's leave-taking would free her from his control, but she continued staring off into space, oblivious of what was happening.

I grabbed her shoulder with my left hand and shook her hard.

"Snap out of it, Varvara!" I yelled. "Things are not looking good, and I could really use a Darklord's help right now!"

A voice whispered in my mind then, one that felt almost like Devona's.

Will I do?

A flock of black bats flew in through the open roof, swirled together, and coalesced into the form of…

"Lord Galm!" I said.

The Vampire King bowed.

"At your service," he said.

I looked at Varney, and he smiled.

"I thought we might need some backup, so I sent a message to Lord Galm when we were on our way to Demon's Roost. My cybernetics are good for more than just shooting film, you know. I can send e-mails, text messages, you name it."

I turned to Galm, more than a little surprised at how relieved I was to see the Vampire King. "Varvara's mind is being controlled. Can you free her?"

Galm walked briskly over to Varvara and touched his ivory-white fingers to her forehead. Then he turned back to us. "Her own mind is working to throw off the mental shackles that constrain it. If I use my powers to hasten the process, I risk damaging her psyche. She should be free of her own accord soon enough."

I pointed toward Talaith. "Maybe not soon enough to deal with her."

The Witch Queen had managed to shake off her confusion, and now glared down at us.

"So you're in this with her, are you, Galm? Our two Dominions have been at peace for years, but I suppose you got tired of being a good neighbor, eh? No matter. I claim this Dominion by right of conquest, and you stand in my way at your peril!"

Galm bared his fangs at Talaith, and I could feel the psychic pressure as his power began to build in response to her threat.

"Choose your words carefully, witch! I do not claim to fully understand what is going on here, but it's clear there's more to this affair than meets the eye." He gestured to Varney. "This man is my servant, and from what he has told me, this war is nothing but a ruse. Both you and Varvara have been tricked. Call off your people and come down here so we can talk and sort this mess out before things get any worse."

Talaith looked uncertain, and for a moment I thought she might do as Galm suggested. But then a sly expression came over her face.

"What does it matter to me how and why this war began? All that's important is how it ends. And I intend for it to end with my being the ruler of two dominions! So step aside, Galm, while I finish off Varvara and claim what is rightfully mine!"

"I can't do that, Talaith." Galm's icy calm was a terrible thing to behold. "We Darklords have one Dominion apiece. That's the agreement we made when we founded Nekropolis, and that's how it's going to stay."

Talaith sneered. "And who's going to stop me? You? You're powerful enough, I admit, but you're alone, while I have several dozen of my strongest people with me." She gestured at the Arcane assembled behind her. "You cannot possibly hope to stand against us all!"

Galm's smile was cold as ice. "Who said I was alone?"

Shadows gathered on the walls of the penthouse, and out of them stepped a host of Bloodborn, some of the most powerful vampires in the city: Waldemar the Librarian, Orlock the Collector, the Scarlet Orchid, Baron Lamprey, the Exsanguinator Supreme, Countess Carpathia, Incizor, the Dalai Lamia and more. Dread and terrible beings all, they gazed upward at Talaith and her soldiers with cold dead eyes and smiles like Death itself.

Varney looked insufferably pleased with himself. "I told Galm it might not be a bad idea to bring along some backup."

"Good thinking," I said.

Galm gave no command, but the Bloodborn hissed a battle cry and leaped skyward, their bodies melting into shadowy forms as they streaked toward the hovering Arcane. Witches and warlocks began loosing bolts of magic energy, but the vampires dodged them easily, and the fight was well and truly on.

Galm turned to us.

"I'll have to confront Talaith directly," he said. "You're on your own from here on out. Find my daughter, Richter. Make certain she and my grandchildren are safe, and then see to it that the creature who abducted them pays for his crime. Varney, you're with us."

Galm then burst apart into a flock of shadow bats and headed toward Talaith. The Witch Queen let out a cry of frustrated fury and started slinging energy bolts as the king of the Bloodborn came for her.

"I'm sorry," Varney said. "But I must do as my lord commands. Good luck to you both."

He assumed his whirlwind form and flew off to join the fight, and his curseweave hazmat suit, now empty, collapsed to floor next to us.

As tempting as it was to watch a battle between Bloodborn and Arcane, not to mention two Darklords, I tore my gaze away from the action above us. Shamika and I still had work to do.

I looked at Varvara. The Demon Queen's gaze remained glassy, her face expressionless. Galm had said she was fighting to throw off Gregor's mental control, but there was no outward sign of her efforts. I had no idea how long it would take, but I doubted we could count on Varvara to regain control of her body in time to help us.

I forgot about Varvara and turned to Shamika. "Where's Gregor at?" I asked her. "He has to be using some kind of machine to transport Nekropolis to Earth. Where is it?"

"I don't know!" she said. "I told you, I searched throughout the city for the missing Arcane, but I wasn't able to find a single trace of them, and I didn't find any dimension-shifting machinery during my search either."

"Maybe he's hidden the machine using magic," I said. "Or maybe he's located it underground somewhere." But neither of those possibilities felt right to me. A thought was nagging at the back of my mind, one that I couldn't quite catch hold of. I pictured the way Gregor had stood after he'd absorbed Talaith's magic strike. He'd pointed the lightning rod toward the sky and unleashed the bolt into the darkness. I remembered what he'd said just before doing it.

Now, if you'll all excuse me for a moment, I need to transfer this.

He'd sent Talaith's energy to the machine, wherever that was. And I was certain he had another body there to run the show from that end. How long would it take for him to put Talaith's power to work and begin transporting the city to Earth, this time permanently? Not long, I feared, and we had no idea where he was. If only I could think…

Once more I felt the sensation of my missing hand moving, only it felt different this time, kind of tingly. I looked down at the stump protruding from my right arm, and I was surprised to see my hand reappear right where it belonged, attached more or less firmly to my body. My fingers were clenched into a fist, and when I opened them I saw that I was clutching a small metal disk. I grinned. It was a reverser! Somehow Devona had gotten hold of my hand and used one of the magic disks to reverse Gregor's teleportation spell, sending my hand back to where it was taken from: my wrist. But why hadn't she used the reverser to send herself back too? Why just my hand?

And then I saw that my palm was marred by thin lines, and I remembered feeling a sensation of pressure on my hand a while ago, almost as if someone were cutting into it. I pulled away the reverser with my other hand and held up my palm so I could examine it more closely. There, cut into the flesh – with Devona's teeth, I guessed – was a single word.

Ulterion.

I grinned from ear to ear.

"I love that woman."