Reality Falling (The Book Wielder Saga 2) (18 page)

“One of the prisoners is talking,” he said happily, “and about things you’ll want to hear. Things about Winston Reynolds.”

“Really? How did you manage that?” Even with some extreme methods their Supernatural prisoners were good at holding their tongues, and those that did talk didn’t have much to say that they didn’t already know.

“We just promised him the safety and good treatment of his lover, who we also have in custody,” Stein said in a pleased tone. “Of course, I had no intentions of giving special treatment without your direct permission, but I think it may be worthwhile in this case.”

“Very well done Commander,” Alice said. “I shall definitely think about it. Who are they anyway? Anybody of significance?”

“He and his lover worked for a while as Winston Reynolds’ personal guards – if the prisoner is being honest, that is. It sounds like they were set up, so we can use that too.”

Alice smiled and wondered if her day could get any better. “What are their names?”

“Alexander and Brooke,” Commander Stein replied with a grin.

Kaine racked his brain as he took a drag on his Tropican cigar. He was sitting with his feet up in the MPK Commander’s lavish office and had cold bottled beer by his side. He definitely could see the benefits of his new life out in the open, but then the things that were happening were just plain wrong. He slowly blew a long line of smoke out of his mouth and sent the message to Winston. It was only a quick message saying that they needed to talk after he’d seen Lynette and Kavarne. He wasn’t sure if he knew what the others had done but he really hoped that the kid was innocent.

No one had informed him of the plan to use the terrified people in the dockyards as a futile attempt to breach Central Isle’s new nigh-impenetrable defences, and he was pissed. He’d had barely any orders from the Capital since they had taken Industria City. Instead, all the orders seemed to make their way to the psycho-bitch Kat. It seemed obvious that she was the Archmage’s favourite and she thoroughly enjoyed rubbing it in everyone else’s face. For whatever reason, her fiery temper, very unstable mind, and over keenness to commit acts of violence on people who couldn’t defend themselves made her a star player in Omniosis’ eyes. In Kaine’s eyes that kind of behaviour made you nothing more than a cowardly, sociopathic scumbag.

He would see what Winston said and planned to do about the issues and go from there. Kaine had no intention of fighting his long-time allies, the Shadow Circle, but that didn’t mean his gang had to fight alongside them.

Wayne, his slim built brown haired Book Wielder, came into the office without knocking, and had a grim expression on his face.

“What’s wrong now?” Kaine asked, taking a long swig of beer.

“You’re going to want to see this for yourself boss,” he replied severely.

Wayne told him what was happening as they left the office. Kaine growled like a wild beast and asked his people to follow him to the docks.

Kaine, Wayne, and a large group of gang members from the Dogs of War made their way quickly to the edge of Industria City. The city was a darker place now, not just from the ugly mix of dark clouds above, but also from the general atmosphere and mood. It felt darker, and having the Foreman towering above the place definitely didn’t help matters. Most of the illumination within the city, with the exception of people’s windows, now came from the excessive amount of sickly green Gloom magic powered lights, the big yellow spotlights that roamed around the polluted sky at random, and the heavily contrasting pleasant looking streetlamps that the Archmage had manifested along the roads.

Kaine didn’t want to believe what his Book Wielder had told him, but when he saw the smoke rising from the waterfront any hopes of that were dashed there and then. His feral nose picked up the succulent smell of cooking meat, but he knew that it was burning human flesh long before his sense of smell had confirmed it.

As they drew nearer, the sounds of hysterical laughter grew louder and louder. Kat and twenty-odd members of her Anarchy’s Ascendants gang were joking about, drinking excessively and doing a large selection of drugs. The dockyard and harbour were on fire; all the humans within it had been incinerated by the maniacal gang.

“Sorry boys and girls, you’re too late for the party!” Kat laughed and took a big drink of Artravenia. “I guess the Archmage didn’t tell you... again.” She paused to cackle before explaining. “He didn’t want the disloyal waste-of-space worms wriggling about here anymore. He told me to give them one more chance to go back into the city and get back to work, and if they refused... well, you get the idea.” Kat gestured towards the flames behind her.

Kaine snarled, his jaw slightly elongating and his fangs growing noticeably in length. “There were women and children in there,” he growled.

“Oh yeah, there was loads. Actually, most of them were woman and children!” Kat said, stumbling about; she was completely smashed out of her skull. “Maybe their daddies and hubbies died in the fighting. What a shame,” she mocked callously.

The Dogs of War began to fan out as Kaine started swelling in size. Wayne and the other Werewolves slowly started to transform as their shared anger grew in intensity. The Vampires carefully reached for their weapons and the Mages started prepping their spells in their minds.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaine roared.

“What?” Kat asked surprised. “They were only fucking humans!”

The heavily intoxicated members of the Anarchy’s Ascendants also began spreading out. They looked at each other nervously as they knew that they were in terrible condition for a real fight.

“You’re going to fight me, huh?” Kat asked in an overconfident tone. “Over some worthless fucking human animals? Well, good luck to you mutt, because I will fucking annihilate you!”

A little while later, Kaine once again sat in the MPK Commander’s office with his feet on the desk, a Tropican cigar in one hand and a bottle of cold beer in the other.

“Are you really going through with this” Wayne asked.

“We’ll see,” Kaine mused. “There’s nothing stopping us from going independent if we don’t get a good deal.”

“Where will that leave us if the Archmage gets to full power?”

“Dead meat,” Kaine said carelessly, “but better to go out fighting than live as a slave in a world run by honourless assholes, don’t you think?”

Wayne nodded. “Definitely, boss. We’ll all stand with you to the end.”

Kaine tossed him a fresh beer. “Thanks Wayne.”

Two gang members in jeans and baggy t-shirts brought in the prisoner. He was a Vampire Nightclaw that they’d caught snooping around after the battle; the Trinity did have an awful lot of portals hidden about. The prisoner was a tall red haired male that appeared to be in his early thirties. He was deathly pale, had bags under his eyes, and was shaking all over from blood deprivation. It wasn’t pleasant, but it was one of the easiest ways to keep a Vampire prisoner.

Kaine had already had a case of blood packs brought up to him. He put it on the desk and opened it up. “Help yourself,” he said kindly.

The two gang members unhanded him, and after a quick suspicious look, the Vampire darted towards the case. He drained three of the plastic packs before regaining his senses enough to be cautious.

“What do you want?” he asked, backing away from the desk, although he’d taken another two packs with him for good measure. “If you think I’m going to talk you’ve got another thing coming.”

Kaine sighed. “I’d say you can trust me. but I guess you won’t believe me either way...”

“I’m not betraying the Trinity of Old!” the Prisoner interrupted.

Kaine shook his head. “I don’t want you to. What’s your name?”

“Rob,” the prisoner replied hesitantly.

“Well, Rob,” Kaine continued, “I want you to get me a meeting with the Trinity. A private audience with silver-tongued Silvario and cheerful Cherriesa, on their ground, on their terms.”

“Like you said,” Rob began, “I don’t trust you, and I don’t think there’s anything you can say or do that will convince me otherwise.”

Kaine reached down underneath his desk and rummaged around in his wastepaper bin. Rob looked on confused, as Kaine pulled out a severed female head by its long auburn ponytail. Kaine tossed the head towards the Vampire who dropped his blood packs and caught it out of instinct.

“You tell ‘em that’s a gift from me. It’s the head of Kitaria Catawowski,” Kaine explained. “You tell them that I’ve had a change of heart and I want to talk
right now
.”

- - -

Brooke sat alone in the grey walled room, on a white table and white chair that were both strongly fixed to the plain concrete floor. Strips of white light ran parallel along the ceiling and stung her eyes if she looked up at them for too long. They were the same kind that never went out in her cell.

Her hair was a tangle of thick bushy black locks that fell to her buttocks since they didn't allow her a razor to shave it all off, and her body hair was looking just as untamed. The werewolf Shaman looked half transformed just from her uncontrolled hair-growth alone. She was wearing a plain white vest and grey trousers, and her underwear was just as plain and twice as uncomfortable, but she was grateful to have any at all.

She'd lost track of time since they brought her to the facility, which she guessed was somewhere on the Orphan Isle. She'd only ever seen her plain boring cell and the interrogation room that she was in now. The Inquisitors bagged her head every time they walked her from one to the other.

Brooke looked towards the thick metal door. It seemed that they were keeping her waiting. Often she would toy with the concept of escape, but she reminded herself that there would be a film-like force field of pure plasma energy on the other side of the security door. Once, she had thrown a scrap of food towards the one blocking her cell just as the Inquisitors were closing the door, and it had disintegrated completely. If that wasn't enough of a deterrent there were vents on the ceiling, in addition to the ones which blew out fresh air, which she assumed would either be for releasing gas or maybe something a lot more fatal and flammable. Also, there were circular patches of metal in the corners of the ceiling, next to the high-tech cameras that monitored every move, which rotated around into plasma turrets. Even if she could overcome all of those obstacles, she'd still have to fight her way through countless Inquisitors with a nice steady supply of reinforcements, especially if the facility was on Central Isle.

Brooke sighed. Even if she could somehow escape there was nowhere for her to go, being that her own side sold her out and she was an enemy to all of the others. Either way, it all seemed pretty pointless without Alexander. The last she'd seen of him was during the trap in the forest. The fight had been a calamity, and Mages were flimsy frail creatures at the best of times. She'd been fond of him since their first meeting. They had been two Great War mercenaries sharing their stories together, and his geeky ways made her chuckle. Brooke would never have known that she'd come to love him so much. Her one and only regret was not sticking a .50 calibre round straight in between the eyes of the scum-sucking double-crossing weasel Lewis Thorne when she'd first sensed his foulness. Brooke hoped that Winston and Veronica and all the others were okay, if they were still alive.

She was so bored of waiting, even though the solitary confinement of her cell wasn't much better. She just couldn't be bothered to go through another round of pointless interrogation. They would threaten her with things, coerce her, promise her special treatment, sometimes hurt her a bit, sometimes a lot, but it was nothing her military training hadn't prepped her for all those years ago. Being a sturdy Supernatural such as Werewolf also helped immensely.

The door finally opened and a woman in a white trench coat walked in. She had brown skin, shoulder length black hair tied up in a smart tight ponytail, and eyes with white irises. They were the same eyes that Winston had.

The woman sat down opposite her, folded her black leather gloved hands together and spoke softly. "Miss Brooke Sienna, I am Lord Inquisitor Alice Eve."

"I've seen eyes like that before," Brooke said unimpressed. "You're a Book Wielder, and a rare one at that,
Inquisitor
."

"Yes, I suspect you have seen eyes like mine," the Lord Inquisitor replied cheerfully. "On your friend Winston, yes?"

Brooke said nothing in return. She wasn't sure what angle or game they were playing at, but they still weren't getting anything from her.

“So you’re reluctant to speak?” the Inquisitor asked. “I don’t blame you. I hope your stay here hasn’t been too...
unpleasant
.”

Brooke just ignored the Lord Inquisitor in response.

Alice continued. “You should know that your boyfriend Alexander has already told us almost everything we want to know.”

Brooke’s eyebrows rose. “Alexander’s alive?”

“Alive and well,” Alice confirmed. “He’s been quite forthcoming in telling us what we want to know, on the condition that you receive special treatment.”

“Oh, Alexander,” Brooke sighed, and rolled her eyes. She was so extremely happy that he was alive but they’d played him for such a fool – like they would actually give her special treatment.

“So you know Winston Reynolds quite well, then?” Alice continued.

“If Alexander is speaking then you don’t need to hear it from me too, do you?” Brooke said folding her arms.

Alice sighed; she knew that this was going to be difficult. “How about we discuss Lewis Thorne instead?”

Brooke scowled. She had plenty to say about the blonde haired Book Wielder and none of it was pleasant.

“Yes.” Alice took her facial expression as a reply. “Your Alexander told us that you both believe he set you up for quite a nasty fall. The resistance members at the scene were dead long before you were captured, and they also happened to be Winston Reynolds’ parents. Funny how he’d walk you into that, seeing as how you’re meant to be allies.”

“He betrayed us, what of it?” Brooke muttered angrily.

“Just confirming the facts,” Alice said clinically. “So you’re clearly not a fan of Lewis. What about his apparent master, Archmage Omniosis?”