Page 22 of Between Bloode and Death (Between the Shadows #5)

CHAPTER

TWENTY-ONE

Khent continued to work in his laboratory, doing his best to keep Valentine Darkmore out of his thoughts. The growing urge to check on the woman bothered him. She still slept in his room, though it had been close to twenty-four hours since their battle with the dead.

He knew where she was. Hell, he had a pet keeping watch on her, a small salamander who enjoyed his freedom, often wandering the house.

Several of his pets meandered unobtrusively, giving him updates on the other vampires in the house. Not that Khent distrusted his housemates, not now. At first he had though, and keeping track of the others gave him a sense of safety and advantage should he need it.

Now he kept abreast of the mansion’s doings through habit.

He closed his eyes and moved through his pets’ thoughts. Overhead, several ravens sat in the trees, keeping watch. The salamander showed Valentine snuggled up to his pillow. The sight of her flushed cheeks and sound of her soft, even breath had him aching, so he glanced away, annoyed with himself.

He’d spent the previous day in his laboratory, curled up on a cot in the corner, unable to be near Valentine without feeling out of sorts. Too attached, which made little sense.

Reaching out once more to his pets, he rifled through the images they sent. His fae spiders in the gymnasium couldn’t always be counted on to focus, as they were prey-driven, even in death. But now, they showed a few of his kin sparring. Rolf fought with Onvyr and Kraft.

Kraft shifted into a wolf, like Rolf, and they fought with the same levels of aggression. The rest of the Night Bloode took avian form when shifting shape and were more devious when it came to battle. At least, in Khent’s opinion.

Like Rolf, Kraft had a temper that, when riled grew awesomely fierce. It figured that their wolf-shifting nachzehrer had mated a lycan. And not just any lycan, but a fierce berserker, the strongest of their kind. Riley also had a tie to her goddess, Hirpus, that intrigued Khent.

It seemed Hecate continued to gather an assortment of nonvampires to add to the Night Bloode.

Many of them had connections of some kind to her divine cohorts.

She used Morpheus to tamper with vampires, making them dream.

Hirpus had taken a shine to her berserker and Kraft.

And they had bonds to MEC through Duncan and his Bloode Witch, in addition to Orion and his White Sea Witch since Kaia worked at a facility of great magir knowledge.

Khent tried to see the bigger picture. Obviously, Hecate wanted their clan to be powerful enough to lead the charge on some ball of chaos aimed at humanity.

But more, she wanted to protect the Mundane realm and all that lived within it.

Granted, he had no liking for humans, but they made a decent enough food source.

Humans worshipped gods, so he could understand why Hecate wanted to protect them. But she also insisted that if the Mundane realm faltered, so would all the others. Celestial, Fae, Hell, and Death would be no more if this plane crumbled.

Interesting to think that all the worlds relied upon one another.

As interesting as Hecate choosing six vampires from different tribes to work together.

Why not choose four reapers, strong enough to command dead armies, and two strigoi, who were fierce predators and amazing tacticians?

Why not all six draugrs, known for their trickery and unpredictability?

Or revenants to get all the information Hecate might ever need?

To say nothing of the brutality nachzehrers and vrykolakas vampires could mete out upon hapless enemies.

Yet Hecate wanted all of them with their particular skill sets to fight with her to protect the human realm.

Could Khent argue with that? He lived in this plane.

He’d been to Hell once. Though he hadn’t found it pleasant, he could probably live there if he had to.

But not in Fae lands. The fae, though tasty, annoyed him.

He’d do nothing but kill and war if he lived in their realm.

And the Celestial plane? Gods and goddesses were assholes.

The Death realm might be worth investigating if he didn’t mind dying. Though a reaper, he couldn’t live there, so to speak. And once deceased, he couldn’t return to the living.

Khent’s power lay in controlling the dead. But to do that, he had to remain alive.

A conundrum.

Without meaning to, his thoughts shifted to Valentine once more. He looked through his salamander’s eyes, now seeing her up close as the small lizard tucked beside her, basking in her warmth and life.

Another of Khent’s pets who adored the human. Mila continued to want to spend time with her, though he’d insisted she keep watch on the shifter house instead, not comfortable with how happy Mila was to be near Valentine.

He paused in thought. Am I jealous of a human?

Stunned at the insanity of such an idea, he immediately rejected it. Instead, he followed a hunch connected to the Staff of Blight and made a phone call.

“Hello?” a soft voice answered.

Khent allowed himself a smile since no one was around to see it. As a scholar, he appreciated Kaia more than she knew. An intelligent being, the once sea nymph had turned into the White Sea Witch, a fitting mate for one of his kin.

“Greetings, Kaia, mate of Orion and carrier of his future progeny.” He could almost hear her teeth grinding.

“Seriously, Khent? I have an identity apart from my mate and my baby, you know.”

“But your worth has gone up since mating an elite being.”

Her loud sigh was worth the call, whether he got information or not.

“In any case, I did not call to compliment you.”

“Thanks so much,” she said dryly.

“I called because I need your knowledge.”

Kaia worked at the Alister Doctrina Repository, a vast library and museum that helped any magir needing answers to anything magic-related. The ADR, as it was called, gave tours, had classes, and often helped MEC when they needed information or research.

“Knowledge? Oh, that I can do.” She sounded happy about that fact. For all that Kaia was the White Sea Witch, one of the most powerful water witches in the world, she had an even, almost kind temperament. Not at all evil like her predecessor.

Orion, Khent’s vrykolakas kin, had an affinity for water. Vrykos were the only ones who did. The fact that he’d mated a female who might equal him in power was not lost on any of them.

Which got Khent thinking.

Varu had found a dusk elf with power over gemstones, and Varu commanded the Bloode Stones.

Duncan had mated their own Bloode Witch, the pair fast and smart and connected to various sources of information from all walks of life.

Kraft had mated a berserker, the wolf-natured vampire in love with a magical direwolf.

The pattern gave Khent hives because he, a reaper, was suddenly fascinated with a necromancer, both of them attuned to death. Valentine was not his mate. Could never be his mate. A laugh, that Khent might fall for a human.

“Ah, Khent? Are you there? You said you needed help?” Kaia asked.

He pushed his ridiculous suspicions aside.

“Yes, thank you. I need to know about any mention of a Staff of Blight in your records. And if you have one on the premises.” He explained about the altercation at the bazaar and the theft of the witches’ fake staff.

He also told her about the staff’s power when he’d fought the four-eyes.

“Hmm. If all it did was cause some vegetation to wilt, it obviously wasn’t a true Staff of Blight. I mean, there have been a few over the centuries, but only the really big ones come to mind.”

“Oh?”

“Hold on.” He heard her typing. Then pages turning. He imagined her at her large information desk, where she worked in charge of helping those needing answers.

“You enjoy your work, yes?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s the best. You understand. You like learning.”

“I do. Knowledge keeps the world running smoothly and prevents us from repeating our mistakes. I like order.”

“Me too.” After another pause, she said, “Ah. Here is it. The original Staff of Blight, wielded by one of the earliest known necromancers in 3132 BCE in Uruk.”

Khent knew that name. “Uruk was one of the first Sumerian cities. Part of Mesopotamia.” Again with the Mesopotamian deities and their underworld.

“Correct. The necromancer was known as Me-lám, which actually translates to ‘terrible, fearful splendor.’ He was also sometimes knowns as Imitu, which also equates to ‘terror.’”

“I know the name Imitu.” His sense of danger grew.

“Impressive. I’ll bet you know it from Imitu’s Conquest, an ancient poem dedicated to Ereshkigal, Queen of the Great Earth and Goddess of Kur.”

He sighed. “Kur, the land of the dead in Sumerian mythology.”

“Correct.”

“Wasn’t Ereshkigal also known to rule Irkalla alongside her husband, Nergal?” Nergal, that ass, being mentioned yet again.

“My, you are up on your mythology. Also correct. Nergal is by all accounts a bad guy.” Kaia paused. “Um, this doesn’t have anything to do with Hanbi and Pazuzu from before, does it?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. But they come from the same pantheon.

” Khent shook his head in disgust. “Do you now see why we’re so tired of divinity?

They do nothing but cause problems, watching from their plane yet unable to interfere.

So they create problems for humans to…” He frowned as he started to piece together this puzzle.

“Kaia, let’s say I was a god who wanted my Staff of Blight back.

But I’m stuck in the underworld, and I can’t travel between realms.”

“You can’t, but your servants can,” she answered, immediately understanding. “So you send someone, in Nergal’s case, probably a necromancer, to pick up your favorite weapon, a staff that can create plagues to wipe out nations. Oh boy. Is that what’s going to happen?”

“How real do you think that Staff of Blight is in your depository?”

“I have no idea. It’s an artifact housed in the museum several floors below. We don’t keep that kind of thing out for anyone to touch. It’s under armed guard and locked up in a magically enchanted glass case.”

“Hmm.”

“But then, I didn’t know there was a fake staff at the bazaar. And that one killed plants. What if the staff here does more than that? In the hands of a god of the underworld, it could do a lot worse.”

“I suggest you get more security for the staff. I have a bad feeling someone may come for it. Perhaps moving it would be best.”

“I’ll do that right now. Thanks, Khent.” She hung up.

Khent, having done his good deed for the day and somehow certain he was on the right track, headed back upstairs. Just to check on his human himself. Because a good host should do such things, and Khent was nothing if not civilized, despite living with the cretins in this household.

Before he could reach his room, a few of his ravens outside announced the presence of an unwelcome visitor.

Talon Goldwing, the poisoner and traitor, had come to talk.

Eager to “converse” with his necromancer’s partner in crime, Khent went out to meet him.

He wondered how upset Valentine would be if he accidentally killed her friend.

Time to find out.