The Peregrine Omnibus Volume One (32 page)

Before he could do so, a stinging pain in his neck made him slap a hand up to the source of the discomfort. His fingers came away with a small feathered dart, one that had been embedded in his neck. “Not again,” he murmured, even as dizziness threatened to overtake him. He swayed on the moving rooftop before falling over onto his back, the box lying beside him.

Mr. Li crept forward, a blow gun in his hand. He knelt and retrieved the box, a smile on his handsome face. Into a small, almost invisible communications device he whispered “I have him, my master. Both the Peregrine and the Abomination are ours!”

CHAPTER VIII

Truth and Consequences

McKenzie sat propped up in bed, his handsome face broken into a heart stopping grin. The pretty young nurse who was tending to him during his hospital stare blushed under his gaze, picking up his dinner tray. “You certainly have quite an appetite, Chief.”

McKenzie chuckled. “You have no idea… Macy, is it?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, reaching up to push a lock of blonde hair behind an ear. She was about to offer up a suggestion that they go out for a soda after his release—which was far from her usual behavior around men—when a soft knock came from the doorway, making Macy jump.

Evelyn stood there, looking gorgeous in a green blouse and tan slacks. Her auburn hair was pulled back from her shoulders, revealing the slender length of her neck. She wore a bemused expression on her lips. “Sorry. Am I interrupting anything?”

The nurse shook her head in embarrassment, sliding past Evelyn. “Of course not, Miss. I was just heading out.” She cast one last longing glance at McKenzie, who winked at her.

“You’re robbing the cradle, aren’t you?” Evelyn chided, moving closer to the bed. “She can’t be more than nineteen, if she’s a day.”

“She says she’s twenty three—she
is
a nurse, you know.”

“You can get your nursing degree fast these days. There’s a shortage because of all the unease overseas.” Evelyn shrugged, moving away from the subject. “How are you feeling?”

“Great. Doc says I’ll be released in the morning. How about you? Feeling the baby kick yet?”

Evelyn put a hand on her stomach. “I feel a few flutters… but I’m not sure if it’s kicking or just nerves.”

“Where’s Max?”

“He didn’t come home last night,” Evelyn said, trying hard not to show her concern. She failed miserably, though, and McKenzie surprised her by reaching and taking her hand.

“He’ll be fine,” he said soothingly.

“I’m worried about him,” she admitted. “Not just this mission… the whole thing with wearing that ring. Using it to brand people like they were cattle… and that weird thing he says when he does it! Where in the heck did
that
come from?”

“Something happened to him when he fought whathisname,” McKenzie agreed. “But he’s still the same guy you fell in love with. He’s a good one.”

Evelyn smiled. “What did either he or I do to deserve a friend like you?”

“I’m a real ray of sunshine, aren’t I?” he agreed, laughing aloud. “Listen, if he hasn’t come back by the time I’m out of here tomorrow, I’ll help you look for him.”

Evelyn pursed her lips. “I hope I won’t have to take you up on that.”

CHAPTER IX

Tortured!

The Peregrine woke slowly, his head throbbing painfully. Without fully opening his eyes, he took stock of his current situation, feeling the tight bonds that suspended him spread-eagled off the floor. His weapons were gone, even the ones that were normally hidden on his person, and his pistols lay on a table on the far side of the room. A mild buzzing in the back of his brain told him that he’d been injected with some sort of drug meant to slow his thinking process, inhibiting his mental abilities.

The room was a large one but held little in the way of furnishings. A large Oriental rug hung on one wall, depicting a rampant dragon, while on the floor lay a yellow-and-gold mosaic. Two tables, one on either side of Max’s body, held various implements of torture: pliers, knives, pokers and a burning brazier full of hot coals.

The smell of expensive cologne hit his nostrils as a thin, handsome Asian entered the room. He wore a finely-cut suit and had his hair slicked back from his prominent forehead. The stranger stopped just in front of the Peregrine and bowed low. “There is no need for such dramatics, Mr. Davies. I am quite aware that you are awake. I am Mr. Li.”

Max opened his eyes but did not return the greeting. He watched as Li moved to the closest of the tables, stirring the coals. When the Peregrine finally did speak, his words were cold and clipped. “Where’s Manchu? Tell him I want to see him.”

“My master will be along shortly,” Li replied. “In the meantime, he wishes me to test your limits of endurance. He says you were his greatest pupil.” Li looked up at Max then, a hint of malice in his expression. “I had always hoped that I would be the bearer of that particular honor.”

Max strained to activate the mental powers that had served him so well in the past but the drugs in his system were still too potent. Resigning himself to the fact that his freedom would have to come through other means, he locked eyes with his would-be tormentor and said “I know he can be very compelling… it’s easy to fall under that man’s spell. But he doesn’t care about you. In the end, he’ll discard you just like he has every other person in his life.”

“Perhaps,” Li agreed, using a pair of tongs to lift up a piece of hot coal. He moved towards Max, using one hand to tear away the hero’s shirt. When Max’s bare chest had been revealed, Li paused to study his prey’s skin for a moment. Max’s body was covered in scars, mementos from a score of harrowing battles, but there was no hiding the rippling muscles and healthy tone of his body. Li seemed appreciative, licking his lips in anticipation. “You and I are quite different, Mr. Davies.” Li brought the hot coal close to Max’s right nipple, making the Peregrine instinctively angle his body in an attempt to avoid the contact. “Whereas you are a physical man, reacting first with your fists and then with your mind… I am a being who covets intelligence above all else. Though I am trained in the arts of combat, it is never my first inclination… but if you were to find yourself suddenly free to move there is no doubt in my mind that you would waste no time in striking me down. You enjoy inflicting pain, do you not?”

“No. I don’t.” Max gritted his teeth as Li shoved the coal against his flesh. The sizzling sound melded together with the scent of burning flesh, making his already buzzing head even worse.

“Ah, says the man who brands his victims like cattle,” Li laughed softly. “Pardon me for not believing you.” Li repeated the application of the coal twice more, leaving horrible burns along Max’s chest. Then he set the tongs aside and picked up a small knife. The sight of it made the clouds of pain part slightly in the Peregrine’s brain. His golden dagger had been amongst the weapons he’d had on his person… it was across the room now, piled with the pistols and capsules that Li had removed from his person. According to the things he’d learned, the dagger was the sacred Knife of Elohim, a weapon that was reputed to have been soaked in the blood of Christ. This gave the blade special properties against evil and also protected it wielder under the grace of God.

Max stared at the tip of the blade, noting that it protruded slightly from its place in the pile. Though his own mental abilities were still weakened, he reached out now, calling upon whatever higher powers had enchanted the weapon.
I need your assistance
, he thought.
If ever I needed you, now is the time.

To his surprise, he thought he heard a reply—and it was far from a heavenly voice that spoke to him. Instead, it sounded very, very old and its words were unknown to him. They were spoken with a wet kind of lisp and the melodious quality of the speaking sounded almost like a chant:
Quilos angelus c’thughu, Quilos angelus c’thughu amonna chi.
The nonsense words repeated again and again and Max suddenly knew, with dire certainty, that they were words of entreaty from a dark power. Fearing that it had something to do with the horrible curse put upon him by Nyarlathotep, Max tried to silence the voice but found himself unable. In clear English, the voice suddenly spat out:
Cursed you are, cursed to wander the earth ‘til all you love is dead, cursed never to know peace, cursed to combat the Great Work in all its forms!

Max screamed out then and the terror in his voice made Li draw back in surprise. The Asian had been about to pierce Max’s belly with his dagger but it was an attack that would never come… for the golden dagger suddenly flew through the air of its own accord, slicing deep into the back of the torturer’s neck. Before Max’s eyes, the blade pushed through the bone and skin until it carved its way through to the other side of Li’s throat. The man gurgled something in alarm, reaching up to touch the blade in sudden realization of impending death… and then he fell forward, his body twitching madly.

The Peregrine swallowed hard, his body suddenly his own to control again. The bonds that held him fell away easily and he dropped to his knees for a moment, regaining his breath. Then he was on his feet, stepping over the dying Asian and gathering up his weapons. His wounds were ignored in the face of sudden freedom but several thoughts kept nagging at him: was his fate as doomed as it seemed to be? And where was the Warlike Manchu?

Slipping his birdlike mask in place, the Peregrine hurried from the room, golden dagger in hand.

CHAPTER X

Rise of the Monster

Ibis stood with his honor guard of undead, watching as the Manchu’s men finished placing the body parts in their assigned places on the laboratory table. At the Egyptian’s side was his new “bride,” her once beautiful skin now a dead-looking blue and pock-marked by a spiders-web network of raised veins. “Do you feel the anticipation in the air, my beloved?” he asked.

The undead girl smiled, her lips stretching wide in a mockery of happiness.

The Warlike Manchu moved past the lovers, his delicate sense of smell recognizing the tell-tale traces of lovemaking in the air. Ibis had already worked out his vile sexual fantasies, which only lowered him further in the Manchu’s eyes. Lust was one of the primary distractions that all men faced. The truly strong were able to put their physical desires to the side and focus on something much purer: the accumulation of power. “I think it is time to begin,” the Manchu said, his voice tightly controlled. Though the majority of his concentration was on the Abomination and the dangers thereof, a part of his mind was in another room, with Max Davies. Seeing his former pupil again had incited a strong flurry of emotions within him. He held no love for the man but he knew that the Peregrine—for all his faults—was as close to the perfect as he would likely ever face. A part of the Warlike Manchu craved the challenge, the pitting of wits and physical strengths that would result from any prolonged confrontation with the Peregrine.
I wonder how long it will be before he escapes from Mr. Li?

Ibis moved to stand at the side of the Abomination’s table, gesturing for everyone to leave the room save for himself and the Warlike Manchu. The Egyptian pulled out a small corked vial and opened it swiftly, dumping it contents—sand from the steps of great Cheops—onto the Abomination’s body parts. “C’thul poi noni makop,” he whispered, the words spoken so softly that only someone with hearing as enhanced as the Manchu’s could have heard them. Ibis closed his eyes as he spoke, letting his fingers run over the table, subtly tracing the outline of a monstrous body, one that would house these organs within its confines. With lips pulling back from yellowed teeth, Ibis allowed his voice to rise in volume and tone. “Uxal ti awanni! Iztabin arkis voltoom!” With this last pronouncement, Ibis threw his hands up high and the air seemed to become charged with electrical energy. The lights in the room dimmed and then went out completely, leaving them in absolute darkness.

“Did the spell succeed?” the Warlike Manchu asked, a hand coming up to stroke his long moustache. He felt no fear at the sudden turn of events but a peculiar sense of unease was beginning to build within him. “Has the Abomination been reborn?”

The sounds of heavy footfalls coming closer made the Warlike Manchu take a step back. Harsh, labored breathing reached his ears and a voice that seemed to echo from the depths of some stygian hell answered his query. “I am here,” the Abomination rumbled, his breath smelling like burning brimstone. “Who dares summon me?”

“I dare,” Ibis answered. As the Warlike Manchu’s eyes adjusted to the gloom, he made out the Egyptian scrambling forward in the darkness, a look of almost orgasmic joy on his face. Ibis had tried and failed to contain the monster’s power once before and the Warlike Manchu knew that Ibis had too much pride to allow an opportunity like this to slip away again. “You should remember me… I am your once and future master!”

The lights abruptly returned to life again, sparking as they did so. The Abomination was now revealed in all his unholy glory and even the Warlike Manchu had to admit that he was a daunting creature to behold. Over eight feet tall and covered in reddish-gold scales, the monster’s head bore a dark visage and a wide mouth, one brimming with sharp teeth. Atop his skull were two small but dangerous looking horns and at the base of his back stretched out a long reptilian tail. The Abomination was completely nude and of formidable musculature.

While the Manchu was admiring the creature, the Abomination was turning the full weight of his gaze upon Ibis. “I remember you well, sorcerer. The little fool whose reach exceeds his grasp.”

Ibis stopped in place, fury glowing in his ancient eyes. “How dare you! I brought you forth! I command you!”

The Abomination sneered in mocking disbelief. “I
am
weakened in spirit, sorcerer, but it will take more than the likes of you to rule over me. I come forth to serve the one whose will is the strongest. And in this room, I fail to see how that could possibly be you!”

Ibis raised a bony finger and pointed it at the Abomination, his voice rising as he began to recite more of his spells. The Warlike Manchu moved forward, gliding across the floor like a silent wraith. He understood the Abomination’s words very well—the creature was announcing that he would serve the only true being of power in this room. Given that Ibis was never anything more than a useful tool to be discarded when necessary, the Warlike Manchu realized that the time had come to rid himself of the troublesome Egyptian.