Angel Souls and Devil Hearts (5 page)

“Oh, shit,” Alex said, choking and coming awake, and then Meaghan saw something she’d never expected to see.

Alexandra Nueva was crying. Tears streamed down her face as she gritted her teeth, babbling angrily to herself.

“How can we . . . got to kill that son of a . . .
Fuck!
”

“Cody,” Meaghan said, bringing Alex truly around, “is he . . .?”

Alex looked up, her face ugly with rage but her eyes betraying a softness, a trace of fear that frightened Meaghan even as she kissed the tears from her lover’s cheek. Meaghan smelled
apples, their shampoo.

“Cody’s fine,” Alex growled, her upper lip drawn back in a scowl. “For now, Cody’s fine. But we’ve got to act fast or we’re all going to be
dead.”

Alexandra got to her feet, grabbed the blue jeans that lay on the bed and began to step into them.

“What the . . .,” Meaghan began, but Alex whirled on her, the warrior that she had become in Von Reinman’s coven evident in her every move.

“I vowed that we wouldn’t go through this again, Meg!” she snapped. “We’ve lost so much already, but I swear . . .”

Then she stopped, realizing that Meaghan did not know what she knew, had not been privy to the mental images, the message from Cody. Alex hated to have to tell her.

“He’s back, Meaghan,” Alexandra said, her teeth clenched. “Mulkerrin’s back, and it looks like he’s much more powerful than before.”

“Back?” George Marcopoulos said, incredulous. “How could he be back? What does that mean, back?”

“What the hell do you think it means?” Alexandra shouted.

They had been fifteen minutes late calling in for the video-conference, and found that everyone else had been late as well. Things were just beginning.

“But he’s dead,” added Rafael Nieto, the UN secretary-general. “You both saw him die, along with Peter Octavian.”

The thirty-five-inch screen on the wall of their apartment was split four ways, and each quarter of the screen held a face. Marcopoulos, the Boston doctor whom the shadows had chosen as their
ambassador to the United Nations (Who better than a human, they’d thought, and though some member nations criticized his lack of political experience, he’d done an exceptional job thus
far) was in the top left quarter, and Nieto in the top right. The bottom left corner held the face of Julie Graham, the United States secretary of state, and the bottom right showed the frowning
countenance of Hannibal, once upon a time among the most feared of shadows.

Diplomacy and the will to survive had made Hannibal see the light, so to speak, and now Hannibal was the chief marshal of the SJS, the Shadow Justice System. Alexandra’s blood-brother, the
mute Rolf Sechs, was his deputy chief, and though the shadows had no true government, they all recognized Meaghan and Alex as the top of the hierarchy. The older ones, the elder vampires who would
naturally have taken that spot, were less than interested.

At least for the moment.

“That is what you said,” Secretary Graham chimed in. “The report is firm on this, that you saw Mulkerrin die.”

“Actually,” Hannibal finally spoke up, “that was mainly for the benefit of your, um, human sensibilities.”

“Meaning what, exactly?” Graham asked. She was a hot-head, never mindful of her words, even when speaking to beings who could destroy her in an instant. Typical American
politician.

“Meaning,” Meaghan said, and all four faces on the screen came to attention, “quite simply, that we lied.”

“You lied?” Now even Rafael Nieto was upset.

“Well, not lied exactly,” Alex added, her natural belligerence making her placating tone sound more sarcastic than anything else. “Even though you’d been forced to accept
our existence by the media and, of course, our physical presence, we didn’t think you’d believe what really happened.”

Of all the shadows, only Alexandra truly understood how much power they held in the world. The old doctor, Marcopoulos, who’d refused the gift of immortality more times than Alex could
count, was probably the only human who understood. After all, acting together, the shadows would be virtually unstoppable.

“You’ve seen all the videotapes,” Marcopoulos began, cutting off any further protest by the others. “Those portals Mulkerrin used to bring the other shadows, the demonic
things, into our world? Well, that’s where he and Octavian went. Peter carried the sorcerer through the largest of those portals, and into whatever was on the other side. We had to assume
they were dead because of what we believe was on the other side of those portals.”

“And what, Ambassador, is that?” Nieto said, calmer now.

They were all silent, until Meaghan finally spoke up.

“Hell, sir. We believe that Hell itself is beyond those portals.”

The uproar was incredible, with the American secretary of state uttering several expletives ill befitting her station. When the furor died down, it was Hannibal who spoke, showing restraint that
was, to Meaghan and Alex at least, nothing short of remarkable.

“Ms. Graham, Mr. Nieto, please understand that we do not wish to imply, even for a moment, that the ‘Hell’ of Christian teachings exists as it has been depicted in myth. Nor
that the place to which we refer exists beneath the surface of the Earth. Rather, the ‘Hell’ we are discussing exists simultaneously in space with our own world, half a step to the
right of what we would call reality. But make no mistake, it is very real in its way, and is the basis for all of the myths of that place of fire and suffering.”

“But, is it supernatural?” Graham asked.

“Of course it is!” Alexandra barked. “Haven’t you seen the monsters it has spawned? The magic which exists there? Anything science has yet to define is
supernatural.”

“Never mind this,” George Marcopoulos cut in. “We’re wasting time. What we’ve got is this: Mulkerrin is back, all communications to Salzburg are out. According to
Secretary Graham, satellite recon is blacked out in that area. Obviously, wherever he’s been, he’s much more powerful than before. So, what are we going to do about it?”

“Thank you, George. Now, Rafe,” Alexandra said and smiled, ruffling the UNSG’s feathers with her familiarity and enjoying every moment of it, “what do you say we scramble
a joint UN/SJS force and surround Salzburg, hum?”

“What about it, Julie?” Nieto asked the American secretary. “Will your boy jump in with the rest of us?”

“You know he will,” Graham answered. “We’re in, all right, but only under UN auspices.”

“SJS will take command,” Hannibal said curtly.

“I think not,” Nieto snapped.

“Hannibal,” Meaghan said softly, and they were quiet once more. “You
will
cooperate with the UN on this, but you’ll only take orders from Rafael’s appointed
commander. Is that clear?”

“Quite.”

“Good. Now let’s stop fucking around and take this bastard down hard and for good.”

Alexandra smiled to herself She was usually the one playing hardball, just naturally a bitch, but she loved to watch Meaghan take command. Mostly because, as smart as she was, Meaghan was almost
never aware of it. She had yet to truly notice how much deference she was given, how much power she had, and she only shook her head whenever Alex pointed it out to her. Alex loved her for her
innocence, but she knew that Meaghan’s power would someday make her a target as well. International governments wouldn’t touch her, for fear of shadow retribution, but the elders had
already begun to question her right to lead. Eventually, it would become dangerous for Meaghan to retain even an ounce of her humanity.

They were preparing to disconnect the vid-conference when George spoke up. They all paid attention, for not only was he the shadows’ ambassador, he had been Peter Octavian’s best
friend.

“Meaghan?” He paused, not sure how to continue. “If Mulkerrin made it back, what about Peter?”

“I don’t know, George. I’m afraid to hope.”

“Don’t be,” Alexandra said to her, to all of them, resolved to the battle ahead. “Hope is all we have.”

Salzburg, Austria, European Union.
Tuesday, June 6, 2000, 2:33
P.M.
:

When Cody put Allison down among the trees, and reverted to his true form, he saw that she was in a state of near shock.

“Allison,” he snapped at her, and her eyes went wide in reply. “We’ve got to go!”

She paid little attention as Cody dragged her along, taking a shortcut behind buildings onto Hofstallgasse and then pounding the pavement toward their hotel. Only when they were almost there did
she seem to come out of her daze, and even then she didn’t speak. Rather, she picked up her pace so they were running full tilt toward the hotel. When they came bursting into the lobby, every
head turned to take them in, arrogant scowls on so many faces. They realized then that the city was unaware of the danger, the evil, looming over them within the walls of the Festung
Hohensalzburg.

Cody understood how foolish they must have appeared, but that was his last concern. Once again with Allison in tow, he bolted for their room, not bothering to wait for an elevator, bounding
instead up three flights of stairs, then stopping to wait for Allison, who was quite out of breath. On the fifth floor, they walked briskly down the hallway to their room.

Allison picked up the phone immediately and began to dial an outside line.

“Shit!” she said, pounded the receiver down, then picked it up and dialed again.

“Come on,” she growled, hanging up again and punching “0” for the hotel operator.

“Why can’t I get an outside line?” she said, and as Will Cody watched, the color ran out of Allison’s face.

“A coincidence, maybe?” she said, looking at Will.

“What is?”

“The phones are working in the city, but as of about ten minutes ago, nobody can get an outside line. Nobody! I’m sure you realize this, but we need a little goddamn help
here.”

“Don’t worry,” Cody said, sitting down next to her on the bed.

“Don’t worry? Are you kidding me? The phones aren’t out all by themselves, we both know that. This guy was supposed to be dead and instead he’s back and stronger than
before, and now we’re all alone here, the two of us against him and whatever those things were in the fortress and of course, whatever other assistance he manages to raise. Don’t worry?
I’m terrified! And what about all these people? The nice people of this city? They’re going to die.”

She paused for a breath, a decision lighting her eyes.

“We’ve got to tell them,” Allison said, and then she was up and headed for the door.

Cody caught her by the arm and spun her, effortlessly, to face him. His face was grave, his eyes frightened, but his voice was calm and pleasant as ever.

“Allison, sweetheart, wake up now and pay attention. First up, we
are
going to tell people, but the first person we’ll tell is the mayor, and let him and his people worry
about evacuating. We’ve got other concerns. Second, as far as help goes, you can believe it’s on the way. I’ve already been in touch with Alexandra, and they’ll
be—”

“How? I was with you the—”

“In my head, remember. We’re of the same blood-father. Everything we just lived through, she was there with me. She knows what’s happening and I’m sure that she and
Meaghan are already scrambling help for us. No, we can’t take this bastard on alone, but we can start making preparations for when the cavalry does arrive.”

Allison looked at the floor for a second, took a couple of deep breaths, then picked up the phone again.

“This is Allison Vigeant from CNN News,” she told the hotel operator. “Get me the mayor, please, this is an emergency.”

Cody smiled then. This was the woman he’d fallen in love with in Venice. She was back in action. And to think he’d been certain she and Sandro Ricci, the cameraman who’d worked
with her in Venice, would end up together. Will Cody thought he was pretty perceptive when it came to people, but he had to admit he’d called that one wrong. Though he’d seemed like a
nice guy, and was certainly brave, Sandro had turned out to be an arrogant pipsqueak. When Cody saw her again, in Rome, three weeks after the Jihad, Allison, who’d been pointing a gun at
Will’s head the first time they met, had made her attraction to him no secret.

It was amazing, really. He’d spent his human life as two people, one man torn between two callings. One, William F. Cody, had been a buffalo hunter, an army scout, a scoundrel who gambled
and drank and stole beer shipments with Wild Bill Hickok. The other, “Buffalo Bill,” was an entertainer and the star of thousands of dime novels with barely an ounce of truth in them.
One scalped Chief Yellow Hand in memory of an idiot named Custer, while the other was known around the world, even among the American tribes, as a kind, fair, generous man who was good with
everyone’s money but his own.

Two people, one man. When Karl Von Reinman had brought him to the life of shadows, as Cody October, Will had at once been excited and repulsed. He couldn’t be changed. From the beginning,
though he’d never really needed it, he continued to carry a gun. He rebelled against his coven, sought a life of adventure, and was reviled for it. Over time, his two natures merged, and by
the time of the Venice Jihad, he had become nearly as much of a hero in his heart as he had been made by time and legend.

He remembered what it was like to be human, to be afraid. And his relationship with Allison helped to keep both things close to him, the fear and the heroism. She helped him be what he was
without trying to fulfill the expectations of others, hard enough as a human, and harder still once the world found out he was alive, and a vampire. He was happy to license the revival of Buffalo
Bill’s Wild West Show, but he wouldn’t perform. His serious commentary was in the film industry, and there he would be known as Will Cody.

Whatever shadows were, whatever William F. Cody had become, Allison reminded him, and he became a reminder to his own kind, that vampires had human hearts.
Never let it be said that we have
no souls
, Meaghan Gallagher had said to him once. Words to live by, even if you lived forever.