“Where the hell did she go?”

  That last statement of confusion was engraved onto his tombstone as a shotgun blast ripped through his chest and tore apart his organs. I cocked the lever and loaded the next shell into the tube, spinning on the ball of my foot and cutting down a second man from Darin’s merry band of goons.

  Not stopping for a second, I ditched the gun and left it on the ground so I could switch back to my pistol. None of it was as smooth as usual. The nagging injury from when I was shot in the log continued to flare up from time to time and cause me to miss a step, and when combined with the sickness caused by my brief foray into the grasp of nothingness, suddenly this fight was closer to being even.

  Still – they could have done with a few dozen more men to really win.

  We weren’t the only ones making a lot of noise in the museum. Constant gunfire was coming from above and below as Veronica and Frankfort showed why they weren’t the type of women one wanted to see when organizing a criminal conspiracy. I knew Veronica was good at this, but I had to give her more credit for the effort.

  “Surround her! Surround her!”

  Every cry of frustration echoed in my ears and made my head pound anew.

  “We already tried that, you bloody dolt!”

  Where was Darin? I hadn’t seen hide or hair since we locked eyes during the opening encounter. He must have been hiding somewhere and giving out orders to the others. I had to pay him back for what he did at the academy.

  I didn’t know how many of them were left for me to kill, but their efforts were becoming more half-hearted with every passing second. Nobody wanted to be the next one offered to the altar as a sacrifice. There were twenty new faces etched into the scar tissue in my mind, and there would be a few more before the day was through.

  I resisted the urge to submit to the red mist again. Catching a glimpse of Samantha while he lagged behind me was keeping my feet firmly on the ground. This wasn’t a situation where I had to go feral and soak myself in blood like before. Maria Walston-Carter was supposed to be elegant, even when she was blowing someone’s brains out with a gunshot to the cranium.

  “I’m not going down there. She’s watching!”

  “We’re not going to be able to get her if you keep being a coward!”

  Their efforts to box me in were a complete failure. I kept moving and shifting the field of play, and the men who hurried down from the roof didn’t even the scales since I caught them on the stairs before they were ready. Samantha stuck close but remained on the opposite side of the hallway to keep us both from being hit at the same time.

  “I’m getting out of here! Fuck you!”

  “What the fuck are you doing?” the other man roared, “Get back!”

  It was too late. Hurried footsteps ran away from our position. Funnily enough he was the one who made the correct choice by running away in the moment. He was bumbling away from the danger I posed by complete accident. I stepped around the corner and assessed my targets, before shooting one man in the back, switching to the next and hitting his leg, and killing the last with a shot through the kidneys.

  The man with the wounded leg fell to the ground with an agonizing cry and clutched the bleeding hole. But what happened next was surprising to me.

  “Stop! Stop! Alright, I give up! Stop shooting!”

  Darin emerged from one of the rooms with two surviving, uninjured men. All of them were holding their hands aloft, dropping their weapons to the floor after unloading the magazines. Samantha grabbed my shoulder as if to restrain me. Who did she think I was? I wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

  “Kick them away.”

  They did as I ordered and kicked their weapons towards me. They slid across the floor and came to a stop at my feet. Darin cast a wary glance to his injured friend, no doubt concerned about whether they could get him medical attention before he bled out and died.

  “Is this everyone?” I asked.

  He nodded, “On this floor. Yes. Goddess above, you killed everyone else already...”

  “Do you know what Landon Sloan is planning to do here?”

  “I don’t know. Something about building a machine to harvest that stuff they injected those other poor bastards with, but lately they’ve been disappearing. I reckon they’re dropping like flies because of what he did to them. They don’t tell us anything.”

  Samantha whispered to me, “Are we going to let them go?”

  “Yeah. They can go. Close that wound first.”

  She hurried over and used her magic to stitch the hole as best she could.

  “You fine gentlemen are going to carry your friend out of this building before he loses that leg, and you’re not going to get in Veronica or Frankfort’s way while doing so. Does that sound agreeable?”

  Darin sighed and gauged the reaction of his surviving team members. They looked like they wanted to be anywhere else but here.

  “Aye. We’ll take your damned offer. It’ll take two of us to carry him regardless.”

  I picked up their pistols and shoved them awkwardly into my coat pocket. It was a good thing they were so deep and offered so much space. I kept my gun trained on them the entire time until Samantha was done doing what she could.

  “He’ll need a medical professional to look at this. I’ve stopped the bleeding for now.”

  She stepped away, having applied first aid without getting a single drop of blood on her palms. I motioned with my gun for them to get a move on. Darin and one of the two survivors approached him and hefted him into the air, slowly moving away with the third following along.

  “Are you sure this is okay? Landon’s going to have our heads for this!”

  Darin scoffed, “Be thankful we’re coming away with this much! I don’t much like Landon’s chances of coming out on top right now.”

  He always was the smart one in the room.

  Thanks to his surrender, we were done clearing our floor. I kept myself alert for a potential retaliatory backstab attack, but they stuck to their word and carried him clean away from the building and towards a police cordon that had appeared in the front plaza. I spied on them through the window and watched as they were escorted away.

  “I hope the other two are okay,” Samantha worried.

  The gunfire had come to a stop. I also hoped that it was because they’d done their respective parts and cleaned out the back rooms of the building. There was no way for me to know if that was the case. Sometimes I longed for the convenience of a phone or radio transmitter.

  “We’d better go and find out. I’m sure that Landon is rushing to activate his machine as we speak.”

  We cautiously yet hurriedly moved through the halls and back down a floor. Veronica was waiting for us in the long corridor that led to the main showroom. There was no time to recount the full series of events, so she offered me a simple assessment of the problem.

  “Those pale men are with Landon. I didn’t see them.”

  How many of those ‘pale men’ were even left at this point? Darin didn’t sound enthused about their chances of survival. The serum was playing hell with the most delicate parts of their bodies. I had to assume any deaths would be caused by the heart’s valves failing under duress.

  We burst out into the atrium and approached the top of the steps. At the same time, Frankfort emerged from the door on the other side, having completed her part of the plan none the worse for wear. She was a terrifying force of nature despite her older age. WISA knew how to pick them.

  The sight on the show floor was a profoundly strange one.

  Landon was in a mad hurry to finish off last checks and activate the machine when we arrived. He was flicking switches pounding metal panels into place. The remaining guards surrounded him on all sides with weapons at the ready. I could only see the top of his head behind the coils and mechanisms that had been attached onto Snow’s original invention like Frankenstein’s monster. Despite the chaos in the museum, none of the guards moved to attack us.

  He paused for a moment. His head popped up from behind the twisted steel. He was confident that we couldn’t make a move with so many guns trained on us, believing in our own cowardice in the face of death.

  “Maria Walston-Carter, how nice of you to join us during this momentous occasion.”

  “You should quit while you’re ahead and give this up,” I suggested helpfully.

  He laughed, “Why would I do that? I told my good men here not to open fire when you arrived for a reason. You’re a reasonable girl. The others don’t see it that way – but I can tell that everything you do is for a good purpose. You believe so firmly in your convictions that you don’t care about what others think.”

  He kept himself concealed though. I couldn’t get a clear shot on him from the top of the main stairwell. He claimed to believe in my reasonability, yet he wasn’t willing to put his money where his mouth was and step away from his covered position.

  “My only conviction is putting you down like the mad dog you are.”

  “You think you, and those withered old husks you call intelligence officers are enough to do that? This game is already over. My machine needs only to receive the final command, and the very fabric of Walser will change forever more.”

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  Charlie hovered at the control panel next to him, holding his aim aloft and training it on me. He looked even more haggard than the last time I saw him at the palace. He was breathing heavily through his mouth and struggling to stay upright.

  “Greenblatt, Rentree and Vincent – they’re all waiting for the results of my research. The new King will behold my greatest work and tremble in his boots! He will realize that he owes his new position not to Welt, or them, but to me. My name will be canonized in the annals of our long history.”

  “By unleashing a bunch of bloodthirsty demons into the country?”

  “That’s what is necessary to complete the final stage of my project. They want more of what my soldiers can offer them. Pale men of distinction will storm the enemy trenches and dislodge the great quandary of modern warfare.”

  He pulled the lever and the machine whirred to life. A red glow emanated from within a small brass chamber. The newly exposed fins started to glow as they catalysed the reaction and thinned the membrane between our world and the Veil. The reworking was more extensive than I anticipated. He had gutted the entire thing and rebuilt it almost completely.

  But there was one element of this grand machine that was notable by its absence. Before I had likened this plot to the creation of a slaughterhouse, where the demons would be penned in impenetrable cells and killed en masse using remote means. It was obvious that no such construction had happened in the museum.

  “Dad, why are you turning that damned thing on already?” Charlie hissed.

  My eyes narrowed; “This isn’t a factory. How the hell do you suppose you’ll kill whatever comes through to this side?”

  The pale soldiers that surrounded him next to the machine were suddenly cast into doubt. They must have heard from the others about the Horrcath that rampaged through the fort during the cult crisis. It was national news, and only now, facing down the barrel of that gun did they realize that a similar thing could occur here. Perhaps they expected a more stringent approach than simply ripping open another portal and hoping for the best.

  But that’s when it occurred to me. Was Sloan really hoping for the best?

  “You never intended to mass produce these soldiers at all, did you?”

  Landon’s laughter grew to a fever pitch.

  “It’s brilliant, isn’t it? All of those so-called men of wealth and means are almost too easy to manipulate! I couldn’t believe my luck when you put Verner Welt down like the rabid fool he was for me. Suddenly I was the one holding the keys to the castle!”

  The glow intensified and the machine kicked into motion. Gears spun, steam spewed from the open pores, and the energy in the air was so strong that I could detect it just by engaging my magical senses. He was going to rip a hole clean through into the Veil and let whatever happened happen. It could be anything, but I suspected that it would be far worse than even the Alchemist.

  “Dad!” Charlie yelled.

  The remaining pale men saw the writing on the wall and fled for the nearest piece of cover. The protective wall surrounding Landon dissipated in an instant. Frankfort, Veronica and I all unloaded the rest of our magazines at him, but they harmlessly bounced from the metal construction of the machine he was hiding behind.

  “Oh! So close!” he taunted.

  Charlie rushed to the control panel, only to be grabbed by the collar of his shirt and thrown back onto the floor in a heap. He hacked and coughed, blood dribbling from his mouth and onto the flawless marble. He was faced with a clear picture of his own mortality. A pale, squalid face with bloodshot eyes and gaunt cheeks.

  “What... What are you doing? You said this... was supposed to help...”

  “And it did. My experiments on you proved my theory, and kept that worthless, frail body of yours from failing any further!”

  The chaos of the machine stirring to life and the gunfire faded into the background. Charlie tilted his head upwards and locked eyes with his father.

  “What?”

  “You only ever got in my way, Charlie. The medical bills, the time I wasted looking after you, all of that emotional stress. It was needless. I had hoped that you’d prove yourself valuable once I blessed you with my serum, yet you’ve failed me time and time again ever since.”

  Charlie gripped his gun tight and got up to his knees.

  “Turn it off. Turn that bloody thing off right now!” he screamed.

  But his arms were too weak to hold it up now. He was on his last legs. The machine rumbled and vibrated, threatening to break free from the heavy steel brackets that held it down to the floor. The taste of copper filled our mouths, and soon a thin line appeared in mid-air. It widened and widened, until a single clawed hand thrust through the fabric and ripped it open.

  A horrendous being emerged from the gap.

  The profane birth played out in vivid detail and scarred itself into the memories of all present. Long, claw-like fingers were attached to six bony limbs. A featureless head, smoothed of all humanoid likeness. Its skin was white like bone and criss-crossed with deep black veins, giving it a sickly and frail air.

  A red, three-pronged crown protruded from its skull, donned with dozens of living eyes, bloodshot and filled with the purest ichor of malice one could imagine. Featherless wings sprouted from its back, and each shuddering breath of our mortal air sent a tremor through its lithe figure.

  Drawing a red blade from the air – it flared those monstrous wings and released a haunting wail. It was so much smaller than the Alchemist, but I knew right away that it was much more dangerous. This was an apex predator amongst apex predators. This thing was designed for one singular purpose, to cleave and cut until there was nothing left but blood and bone.

  A name was spoken into my mind; The Bloodcrowned King.

  Charlie was catatonic. He dropped his gun and tried to crawl away before the beast could turn to him. The other guards alternated between screaming in fear or vomiting in disgust. On instinct Frankfort made the first move, moving down the steps and firing what was left in her pistol at the beast.

  Veronica yelled, “Frankfort, don’t get its attention!”

  But it was far too late. The Bloodcrowned King pointed a long finger in her direction. Frankfort’s charge came to a stop. She lowered her hands and stared it dead in the eyes, and a second later a savage red spike jutted outwards from her chest. The red sickle hardened and oxidized rapidly in the open air, congealing and turning a deeper shade of crimson.

  “Frankfort!”

  Frankfort froze in place and gasped in pain. Excess blood seeped from her lips and down the front of her chest. It was only a second later that the gravity of what just happened finally sunk in.

  She was a goner.

  She collapsed onto the steps, still clutching her punctured chest. The pale men were quick to turn on Landon and his scheme in turn. They all fired at the beast to no avail, and were similarly speared by jutting blades constructed from their own blood. The blackened edges were all that was needed to put them down for good.

  “Hemomancy?” I whispered.

  Landon laughed and laughed. He clapped his hands together like it was the amusing final act of a theatre-bound comedy. The King did not punish him. Rather, it was following his orders. The contract he signed protected him. All he had to do was offer him the immensely powerful bounty of the crystal he had synthesized in preparation for this day.

  “You’re all going to fucking die here!” he spat, “Not just you – but every one of those goddess-damned mongrels who ruined my life! I’ll give them something to remember alright! I’m going to scar my name into the collective memory of this world!”

  He pointed at me, and the Bloodcrowned King moved its profane hands in my direction. I recovered from the shock of seeing Frankfort’s motionless body and responded in kind. I could sense its touch traveling through the air to try and reach me, so I quickly created a void around myself and the others to keep us from being afflicted with his magic.

  The other men in the lobby weren’t so lucky. Their bodies seized up as it assumed control over their blood, before they were punctured clean through with dozens of small spikes. Some were so strongly targeted by the irrational magic that they were left standing, frozen in place by the congelation of their ichor.

  The King was not well pleased by this revelation. I heard a whisper in my mind.

  “You... who are you?”

  “The ones above you sent me to stop this madness,” I replied without moving my lips.

  “The incorporeal ones? They dare dispense their powers into the hands of a mortal?”

  Landon looked between the beast and me, wondering why we weren’t all dead on the floor like the rest of the people in the room.

  “What are you doing? Kill them already!”

  The King didn’t want any part of this fight however. The grotesque creature said something to him, and Landon was forced to move right along without pushing for any more. He stomped over to the machine and punched a series of buttons, before wrenching down on the level and exposing the red crystal clutched in a set of metal jaws.

  The energy being released grew more powerful, fuelling my nihilistic barrier but also pushing us away from the sheer force of the air and atmosphere whipping around the museum floor.

  “Never mind! This’ll have to do for now,” Landon boasted, “Have fun being turned into dog food!”

  The King grabbed him from above and flew upwards, smashing through the glass dome above and sending shards raining down onto us. There was no sign of any more Horrcath yet. I rushed down onto the floor and approached the controls, desperately pushing every button I could to try and stop it from rampaging on endlessly.

  “It’s not working!” Veronica yelled. The sound was almost deafening.

  “It won’t...” Charlie croaked from beside my feet.

  Nothing I tried was working. The controls didn’t stop the reaction now that it was put into motion, and I soon discovered that my attempts to destroy the crystal using my magic were for naught. Nothing could penetrate the cloak it surrounded itself with, not even my God-given powers. Landon must have known that the machine was a one-way trip when he designed it.

  “Grab Charlie!” I barked.

  Veronica hurried over and helped me hoist the frail kid onto our shoulders. We staggered out of the atrium and into an enclosed room behind the stairs before any more misfortune could befall our group. We set him down on a couch and took a second to ruminate on what just happened.

  Charlie had something to say.

  “You can’t destroy that thing...”

  “How do you know?”

  “He wouldn’t have left it here if you could.”

  He had a good point. Landon was happy to leave the machine unguarded knowing that soon it would be completely inaccessible to anyone trying to turn the damn switch off. Demons and other obstructions would render such efforts impossible.

  “He hated me.”

  Charlie’s discovery hung over my head. I did warn him once before.

  “Intense feelings of love can easily be twisted in hatred. There is no sweetening the outcome. He acted in what he thought was an appropriate manner to extract ‘value’ from you in exchange for his emotional labour. You deserved better.”

  Charlie stared up at me. He could barely see through the fog in his eyes.

  “Did I?” he croaked.

  I nodded.

  “You’re the monster that Landon made. Find forgiveness next time around, Charlie.”

  Those were the last words that Charlie ever heard. The last of his strength left him, and his body fell limp as the damage to his heart became irreparable. I only wished that he could have listened to my warnings about his father when they mattered. It wasn’t about rescuing him, it was about extracting value for all of the pain and stress Landon associated with his birth.

  It metastasized like an uncontrollable cancer and combined with his ideological nihilism. Charlie became just another grievance in a long, long list of them. Landon was a true-blooded, head-to-toe kind of rat bastard. He was the kind of human dogshit I took some small pleasure in scrubbing out when I was still working as a hitman, because it was hard not to.

  Veronica shook her head.

  “What are we going to do now? Frankfort’s gone!” Samantha whispered.

  “Frankfort knew what was on the line when she came with us. She was a woman who risked her life hundreds of times before. She would have preferred to go out doing something good instead of wasting away on a deathbed,” Veronica said, remaining steel hearted.

  Now was a good time to feel the pressure. The museum was compromised, the machine and the circle it opened were seemingly indestructible, and some terrifying thing had emerged through the gap created by Landon’s new summoning circle. Not only that – it was willing to follow his direct orders.

  This was our final act.

  “We’re going to have to stop Landon and that Horrcath. He’s going to try and kill as many people as he can. He’ll have signed his soul and the lives of many others to it in exchange for its power,” Veronica observed.

  Samantha looked at me, “You really couldn’t destroy that crystal with your magic?”

  “I thought it was limitless, but there’s more to that crystal than meets the eye. It was like a brick wall had been erected on all sides. I couldn’t even get close using my magic,” I theorized.

  But to be more specific I suffered an intense feeling of vertigo, like I was running down a corridor that was getting ever-longer right in front of my eyes. Either Landon had concocted a dastardly way to keep us from smashing it into pieces, or the Bloodcrowned King was using one of its abilities to keep me from touching it.

  “Sitting here isn’t going to do us any good. Let’s regroup with the others and hope that the Horrcath incursion isn’t too severe,” Veronica said.

  “And Frankfort?” Sam replied.

  “She’ll have to stay here for now. She’d have my head for wasting my time moving dead bodies in a crisis.”

  Samantha wanted to see some hesitation in her but Veronica wasn’t biting. She was focused on finishing the job, not holding a funeral for a coworker. It felt strange to move on without Frankfort – but that was death for you. It came quickly and often without warning, and there was no time to say your goodbyes. A single lapse in judgement was all it took.

  “Come on then,” I grimaced, “Let’s face Landon’s demons for the last time.”