Dead and Kicking Page 15

  I blinked in surprise, hardly recognizing her. She had changed her hair to jet black and styled it to look like Liz Taylor’s Cleopatra, turquoise beaded braids hanging down on either side of her face. She was dressed similarly to me (I don’t know what happened to the McQueen gown, I just hoped that I wasn’t expected to return it) in a white sheath dress with straps at the shoulder and a high waist that gathered in under her breasts. It was more of a ‘bought the slutty Cleopatra costume at the Halloween store look’ than authentic ancient Egyptian attire though. The difference between our two outfits was that hers was made from a gauzy see-through material; it left little to the imagination. She was also adorned with several display cases worth of ancient Egyptian jewelry around her neck, wrists and upper arms.

  “Good, you’re awake. I’d hate for you to miss a moment of your impending death.” The expression on her face was one of evil glee. She strode across the stage and frowned at me. “You,” she said, gesturing to a passing man, dressed in an Egyptian kilt. “Tighten those chains.”

  The man disappeared behind me and the slack on the chains was pulled in, my arms raised above my head.

  Holly sneered at me. “What’s the matter Harry? No snippy comeback?”

  I wish I could say I had a real zinger response, but all I came up with was, “You’re not going to get away with this Holly.” Yeah, lame I know, but it was all I had.

  Holly laughed. “Really Harry, is that the best you can do?”

  “No! No, no, no!” DiCastro’s voice sounded angry, echoing across the empty space. I watched him cross the cavernous warehouse shaking his head. He was dressed like an Egyptian prince in a pleated, white kilt. His chest was bare and he wore gold cuffs on either wrist. Around his neck a wide, turquoise and gold ornamental necklace flashed in the light. He had a large ceremonial dagger tucked into the front of his kilt and I recognized it as the same one from Bryce’s video. He was followed by several similarly, although less extravagantly, clad men. I glanced at Holly as she watched him draw closer and the expression on her face alternated between love-sick puppy and fearful, abused wife. “No, it’s all wrong. Where is the altar?” DiCastro stormed up the steps to the stage followed by his entourage.

  “Levy, my love. What’s the matter?” Holly approached him demurely. She reached for his arm only to have him brush her off.

  “I told you to prepare her for the ritual.” He turned to glare at me, the dark kohl lines under his eyes giving him a menacing look.

  “I..,” Holly stammered.

  “Where is the altar?” DiCastro interrupted as if Holly hadn’t even spoken. He turned to two of his cronies. “Find the altar back stage and bring it out.” He swung back to look at me, his eyes lingering on my body. I was very glad my dress was not as see-through as Holly’s. He turned back to look at Holly, truly seeing her for the first time. “Your hair looks ridiculous,” he said with a scowl.

  Holly patted her hair nervously. “I’m sorry, my love. I thought you would enjoy the look for the ceremony.” Her hair slowly morphed back to her beach bunny blonde. She had a look in her eye like a beaten dog. I almost felt sorry for her.

  DiCastro grunted at the change and then eyed the rest of Holly’s costume critically. “Give me your necklace.” He held out his hand.

  Holly’s hand flew to the gold jewelry she wore about her neck. It was shaped like a snake biting its own tail. “I…I thought…”

  “That’s the problem. You’re not supposed to think.” DiCastro scowled at her as she unclasped the necklace and handed it to him. “This is the necklace for the bride of Osiris.” He moved to fasten the necklace around my neck.

  “The bride?” Holly looked confused. “But I am to be….”

  A commotion from behind interrupted her as four men pushed a large wheeled dolly carrying an altar block across the stage. The altar had been made up to look like a single chiseled stone with iron rings sunk into the surface at the four corners. DiCastro smiled when he saw it. “Perfect,” he said. “Move it over here, then secure the girl to it. We must prepare to start the ritual the moment the sun has set. At the anointed time I will mount the altar and take my chosen bride, then sacrifice her heart to the god.”

  Oh joy. I wasn’t just going to be murdered by a crazy person, I was going to be raped and murdered by a crazy person. Could it get any worse?

  “But Levy, I don’t understand.” Holly reached out to stop him. “I am to be your bride, not her.” She looked at me with venom. “Why would you want to fuck her?”

  DiCastro laughed and grabbed Holly by the throat, his hand cutting off her airway as he pulled her close, face to face. Holly scrabbled at his hand, her feet barely touching the floor, her face turning red. “You’re right, you stupid cow. You don’t understand.” He shook her like a rag doll. “You were never anything but an easy fuck and a means to an end.” He drew the dagger out from his waist.

  “No!” I shouted, realizing what he was about to do. “DiCastro, stop.” I couldn’t help myself. No matter how betrayed I felt by Holly, I didn’t want her dead. I pulled at the chains holding my arms and kicked out at the nearest man as he approached me.

  DiCastro began to mutter an incantation and the dagger started to glow. Suddenly, he plunged it into Holly’s stomach. He released her throat and she bent double over the blade then slid to the floor.

  “No! Holly!” Tears stung my eyes.

  DiCastro stood over Holly’s body and took a deep breath. A wave of power rippled over him and the look on his face was ecstatic. “Yes! I can feel that worthless bitch’s power. It’s mine now.” He turned to look at me and smiled. “Just like yours soon will be, my bride.” He brought the dagger to his lips and licked Holly’s blood from the edge. “Clean up this trash and prepare the girl. We begin at sundown.”

  I watched in horror as he strode away across the stage, revulsion sending shivers down my spine. For the first time since waking up after being translocated from Dante’s, I began to feel truly defeated. How would I ever get out of this nightmare?

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  I admit I sort of zoned out for a while after Holly’s death. It was too much of a shock to process everything and I think my brain just sort of shut down for a bit. I don’t even remember struggling when the men released the chains from the pillar and reshackled me spread-eagle on the altar.

  I’m not sure how long I lay there when I realized that the sounds around me were getting louder. Dozens of people, all dressed in Egyptian attire, had begun to fill the space around the stage, milling about and murmuring.

  A man, dressed in the robes of an Egyptian priest, walked across the stage and lit the large brazier. The flame sprang to life just as a gong sounded from somewhere behind me. The priest raised his arms in benediction and the crowd grew silent. Quietly at first, then growing louder and more fervent, the crowd began to chant, “Asar, Asar.” Over and over again they chanted the name of their god. The chanting became frenzied as DiCastro stepped out from behind the statue of Osiris, flanked by two jacks.

  He stood in front of the crowd at centre stage and raised his arms. The crowd instantly fell silent.

  “My friends!” DiCastro’s voice echoed through the large space; he must have been using magic to enhance the sound. “My friends, tonight you are present to witness the birth of a new regime; a new power for Riverton, for the world!”

  The crowd cheered. Clearly they had also been drinking the Kool-aid in copious quantities.

  “It is the night of the new moon. A night for rebirth, when we will see our Lord Asar restored to his rightful place on this plane.”

  Another crazed cheer erupted from the crowd and DiCastro paused for a moment, basking in the adulation.

  “Years of planning and preparing have all come down to this night. We have already made such great strides. Our numbers continue to grow, th
anks in part to your recruitment and that is why you have been rewarded today the privilege of witnessing our Lord Asar’s rebirth.”

  More crazy fan applause followed this pronouncement. DiCastro motioned to four men dressed as priests who proceeded to join him on stage.

  “And thanks to our brothers, who have lent their talents and skill to help us begin to assemble our army, an army that will defeat not only the mongrels but the bloodsuckers as well.”

  The crowd cheered loudly as the four men raised their arms. Suddenly I was overcome by the sense of dread that I had learned to associate with the appearance of zombies. Sure enough, from the side of the cavernous space by the Sphinx, a door opened and an army of zombies shuffled out, two by two. There must have been close to a hundred of them. They shambled along, their gait closer to a walk than a shuffle. The mages that had raised these zombies were getting better at it and were exhibiting impressive control over their creations. The zombies stopped behind the crowd giving the appearance of standing at attention. The cheer from the crowd this time was somewhat subdued as the people gathered around the stage eyed the zombies cautiously.

  “Don’t be alarmed my friends,” DiCastro continued, sensing the crowd’s unease. “Our army of undead will protect us from outside interference as we begin the ritual.” He raised his arms again in benediction. “Join me now my friends. Join me in prayer as we call to our fallen Lord, so that he might rise again.”

  DiCastro began to chant in a foreign tongue. Having never heard ancient Egyptian, I can only guess that that’s what it was. Soon the crowd fell into step, carrying the chant along. After about five minutes, DiCastro lowered his arms and signalled to the four men again. He turned and sat on a throne that I hadn’t noticed before, carved into the base of the statue of Osiris. The crowd continued to chant, some of them with their hands in the air, swaying to the tempo of the chanting. The air around the stage began to feel thick, the magic being released by the incantation almost palpable. I could feel their zealous frenzy building and I sucked the power into myself greedily.

  The four men moved across the stage and returned a few minutes later, each dragging an obviously drugged person along with them. Judging from their dress and general grubby appearance, they were some of the missing homeless. They came to a stop in a line in front of DiCastro who rose to his feet, the Dagger of Asar raised above his head. He began to chant again, his voice booming out over the drone of words coming from the crowd below the stage.

  When he approached the first man to be sacrificed, I closed my eyes not wanting to witness what was about to happen. But that’s when it hit me, someone needed to witness the atrocities that were about to occur. I owed it to these poor people who trusted Holly and were betrayed by her just as badly as I was, only to be slaughtered by a lunatic with aspirations of god-hood.

  I opened my eyes just as DiCastro drew the dagger across the first man’s throat. There was a momentary lucid look of surprise in the man’s eyes, as the arterial spray of blood splashed across DiCastro, then he slumped to the floor. DiCastro raised his arms in triumph as a wave of power rushed into his body, his ecstatic, blood covered face a macabre sight.

  The grisly scene was repeated three more times until nothing on the stage was left untouched by the spray of blood, including me. With each new kill, the magical energy multiplied. I could feel it throbbing like a beating heart. My face was spattered with blood and I licked my lips without thinking, only to be rewarded with a rush of power like I had never felt before. The warm, coppery taste was euphoric. It sizzled against my tongue, as I drew the magical power into my core. It was like nothing I had ever experienced. I closed my eyes against the onslaught of feelings warring inside me, euphoria with a large chaser of guilt. How could I be enjoying any part of this slaughter? What was wrong with me? The sight of blood should have sickened me but instead I hungered for it.

  My mouth suddenly ached, the pain almost excruciating. I opened my mouth, flexing my jaw like I was yawning to try and alleviate the pain. When I closed my mouth again, my tongue brushed against something that hadn’t been there before. What the hell? Since when did I have fangs?

  “Harry! Harry! Can you hear me?”

  Great. Now I was hearing voices too. I looked around frantically. DiCastro and his cronies were still basking in the glow of their latest kill. There was no one else nearby.

  “Harry, what’s happening?”

  “Isaac? Isaac is that you?”

  “Yes Harry, it’s me. Something has happened. Why are you suddenly so strong? I could feel you faintly before but now you are shining like a beacon.”

  “I don’t know. DiCastro is performing some sort of blood magic. It’s…it’s affecting me somehow. You have to help me Isaac. He’s going to kill me.”

  “We’re on our way Harry. Hold on. And….and try not to drink any blood.”

  “Too late. I licked some off my lip. It tasted so good and now I have fangs. Fangs! What the hell is happening to me?”

  “It’s okay Harry. I’ll explain everything to you. Just hang on. We’re almost there.”

  “I hope you brought the cavalry because there are over a hundred zombies on guard duty.”

  “The cavalry is coming. Nash says you better be in one piece when he gets there or he’ll kill you himself.” I laughed at that, in spite of everything. It was obviously impossible for Nash not to bully me.

  The temporary feeling of relief I had that a rescue was on its way, was short lived. When I opened my eyes again, I was startled to find DiCastro standing beside me. His skin was red with the blood of his victims, his face frozen in a rictus grin. With total revulsion I realized that his free hand was moving rhythmically under his kilt, wrapped around his erection. He ran the dagger slowly down my chest, slipping it under the dress to cut the fabric apart, exposing my breasts.

  “Soon my bride, soon the moon will reach its zenith and we will become one with the god.” He leered at my breasts then ran the dagger back up towards my face, wiping the blood off the blade on my cheek and lips.

  “The only thing you are going to become one with is your own death, you crazy asshat.” I turned my head away from the sight of him, just as a warning bell began to sound.

  “No! No, there are intruders in the building,” DiCastro turned and yelled at the jacks that until this point had remained motionless on the stage. “Stall them. We need more time to complete the ritual.”

  The jacks moved with uncanny speed across the stage and disappeared from sight.

  “Isaac, if you can still hear me, look out, there are two jacks coming your way.” I could only hope that Isaac still had a channel open to me and heard my warning.

  “You’re too late DiCastro. You don’t have enough power to complete the ritual.”

  “No, I won’t be stopped.” DiCastro glared at me with a crazed look in his eyes then turned to the priests. “The zombies, use the zombies and kill them all.” His hand swept out over the chanting crowd. “I can channel their deaths. It will be enough power for the ritual.”

  The zombie masters moved to the edge of the stage. A few of the closest chanters must have heard DiCastro’s words, because they began to panic and try to escape from the mob. The zombies moved in, tearing the chanters apart. Blood and gore splashed across the floor and the chanting was soon replaced by screams of pain and terror.

  DiCastro stood with his arms raised, a look of ecstasy on his face, as he drank in the death magic. There was a momentary pause when a commotion broke out at the back of the building and a door burst open. A stream of vampires and werewolves, many in their deadly half-were form, rushed in.

  “Kill them! Kill them all!” DiCastro screamed at the four priests, pointing at my rescuers.

  The zombies turned and began to attack the werewolves and vampires.

  “No!” I shouted, searching the c
rowd for a familiar face. Where was Tess? Where were Isaac and Nash? I struggled against the shackles holding me down on the altar, anger pulsing through me.

  Suddenly, a half-were burst through the door locked in battle with one of the jacks. For some reason I knew that it was Nash. His half-were form was impressive, over seven feet tall and all muscle and claws covered in a thick, dark fur. He was bleeding from multiple wounds and appeared to be favouring his left arm. The jack looked like it had taken a beating, but wounds wouldn’t slow it down. The two combatants faced off, oblivious to the chaos around them.

  “They’re too late,” DiCastro crowed, pulling my attention away from the fight. He heaved himself onto the altar, straddling my hips. “Your powers will be mine.” He fumbled with my skirt pushing it up my legs. He pushed his own kilt aside exposing his now flaccid penis. He began to stroke himself vigorously with one hand, grabbing my breast and squeezing it painfully with the other.

  “Nash!” I screamed in panic and bucked my hips trying to dislodge him. There was no way this was happening. I struggled against my bonds, throwing all my strength against the metal shackles.

  “Harry!” Nash’s voice carried across the chaos. “Hang on, Harry.” I turned my head to see that Nash was moving closer, trying to cross the space, but the jack was in pursuit, slowing him down.

  “Harry, the zombies, use your powers.” Isaac’s voice whispered in my head.

  Of course! Why didn’t I think of that? I looked across the large space. There were still over half of the zombies left, battling with the dozen or so werewolves and vampires. If I could send the zombies back where they came from, the battle would be over. I closed my eyes and tried to push everything out of my head and just focus on the zombies. It was easier said than done with DiCastro masturbating on top of me. Luckily, after having a hard-on for the last hour, he seemed to be experiencing a technical difficulty.