Billy the Kid & the Vampyres of Vegas (The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel #5.5) (3 page)

“I’m driving Miss Scathach to Las Vegas.” Billy spoke into a Bluetooth headset. He handed his passenger the cell phone and transferred the call from the earpiece to the handset. “He wants to talk to you. He sounds upset,” he added with a grin.

“Is there a problem?” Scathach snapped. The sun was low in the sky, and she pulled a pair of mirrored aviator shades off her head and slipped them over her eyes. The lenses reflected the white façade of the Embarcadero.

Quetzalcoatl started to speak, but Scathach cut him off. “Something came up and I needed transportation. No, I still haven’t learned to drive, but no doubt you know that. I suppose I should be honored that you’ve obviously kept tabs on me over the centuries. Just as I’ve kept them on you,” she added. The Shadow glanced at the young American immortal. She knew he could not speak the ancient language of Danu Talis, but she was careful to keep her tone neutral so he couldn’t pick up the nuances of her speech. “Your servant arrived just when I needed him.” She turned to Billy and reverted to English. “How long will it take to get to Vegas?” Traffic along the Embarcadero was at a standstill.

He shrugged. “Once we get out of the city, it should be fairly easy. At this time of night, with me driving, I’d say eight, maybe nine hours.”

“Do you sleep?” she asked.

“Not much anymore. Naps every few days.”

Scathach turned back to the phone. “If he drops me on the Strip and turns around, he should be back in San Francisco by midmorning tomorrow. I’ll make my own way home,” she continued in English, before slipping back into the language of Danu Talis. “I hope this is not too much of an inconvenience for you, but I am sure you have many other servants.”

“None like Billy the Kid,” Quetzalcoatl said. “Try not to damage him.”

Scathach hung up and passed the phone back to Billy. “He likes you,” she said.

Billy laughed delightedly. “That old monster. He doesn’t like anyone. I’m not even sure he likes himself.”

Scathach shifted in the seat to get a better look at her driver. “So you’re the famous Billy the Kid. I thought you’d be taller.”

“I’m five eight,” he answered, then paused. “You know, people used to say that all the time. But I haven’t heard it in a while.”

“Why not?”

“They’re all dead.” Billy smiled. “The curse of immortality, eh?”

Scathach nodded and turned away, looking out across San Francisco Bay as Billy swung right, then circled left onto the Bay Bridge.

“I know you’re not human, so I’m guessing you’re an Elder, like Quetzalcoatl?”

“Next Generation,” Scathach said shortly.

“What’s the difference?” Billy asked.

“I was born after the Fall of Danu Talis. Quetzalcoatl was born on the island.”

“So you’ve lived a long time. You know what it’s like to be immortal, to see everyone around you age and die. How do you deal with that?”

“You need to ask your master,” Scathach snapped.

“He doesn’t tell me anything.”

Scathach remained silent for a few moments. “I’ve seen many humans face immortality, and they never get used to it. You’ll learn to accept it. You’ll learn never to make a close association with a mortal human.” She turned to look at Billy. “You’ll never take a mortal wife, or have a mortal girlfriend. You’ll learn to artificially age yourself. You’ll dress differently, add gray to your hair, grow a beard and then move on. You’ll never live too long in any one place. You’ll spend the rest of your life on the run, looking over your shoulders.”

“I did that when I was human,” Billy said. “I’m well used to it.”

“You’re young. Enjoy it while you can. In another hundred years, two hundred, five hundred, a thousand, you will see things differently.”

“You’re just a bundle of laughs,” Billy muttered. “I was enjoying being immortal.”

“Billy, I have lived on this world—and others—for ten thousand years. I have watched the very Earth reshape itself. I have seen empires rise and fall.” Her voice turned lost and lonely, and Billy caught the hint of what he recognized as an Irish accent, not unlike his mother’s. “I have watched the death of nations; I have seen entire tribes vanish into myth and great civilizations fade to dust. I have seen so many friends die … and do you know the true curse of immortality?”

Billy the Kid shook his head. “Not sure I want to know now.…”

“The curse is that you remember every single face.” Her expression became hard, lips disappearing into a thin line. “Ultimately, that’s what will drive you mad.”

“You remember all the faces?”

“All of them,” she breathed.

“But you’re not mad,” he said lightly.

Scathach peered at him over the top of her aviator glasses. “How do you know?”

7.

Quetzalcoatl sat in a room surrounded by the remnants of a lost empire, holding a cell phone in his hand. It was a slender rectangle of glass, metal and liquid crystal, the very latest in high-tech gadgets, and yet incredibly crude when compared to the technology of his youth.

Every day Quetzalcoatl mourned the loss of his world. Once he had been worshipped as a god—now he was almost forgotten, remembered in a twisted collection of stories and folk songs that barely hinted at his true nature. But his time would come again. He had ruled the humani in the past; he would rule them once more. Even now, plans were in place to return the Elders to the earth. Within two years, three at the most, the humani would be nothing more than slaves again. There were, however, a few inconveniences—certain Elders and Next Generation and a few immortal humani—who would stand with the humans and fight. They had to be removed, but carefully, discreetly, quietly. Scathach presented a particular problem. There was no point in sending assassins after her: she had survived innumerable attempts on her life. And then she invariably went after the would-be assassin’s employer.

Quetzalcoatl had been authorized to try a much more devious method of killing the Shadow.

He hit Send and watched a 702 area code number scroll across the screen. The call was picked up on the first ring. “She is on the way,” Quetzalcoatl said.

“Alone?”

“She is being delivered by one of my servants, an immortal humani known as Billy the Kid.” The Elder sighed. “She has told me she will send Billy back to me, but I know his nature: he will want to help her.” Quetzalcoatl’s thin lips twisted into a sneer. “So be aware that you may have two enemies.”

“If he sides with her, he will die with her.”

The Elder shrugged. “A pity. His loss would be an inconvenience. If you can spare him, I would be grateful.”

“I have a pack of cucubuths I’ve been starving for the past week and a nest of vampyres—proper blood drinkers—that I have not permitted to feed for a month. Once I unleash them, there will be no escape for Scathach or her accomplice.”

“I will not advise you to be careful, but let me offer a word of friendly caution: you have never dealt with anyone like the Shadow before,” Quetzalcoatl said.

“Ah, but I have, Elder. You forget: Scathach trained me.”

8.

Billy was happiest when he was driving. It represented the ultimate freedom. He didn’t remember learning how to ride; riding was just something he had always done. A huge body of myth had grown up about the special bond between cowboy and horse. In truth, Billy had never felt that connection with an animal, and had known few cowboys who did. You took care of your horse the same way you took care of a car. It got you from point A to point B faster than you could walk. But he did remember the precise moment he’d bought his first car. It had been—naturally—a Model T, and in 1916, it had cost him over seven hundred dollars, which was a fortune in those days. He’d driven Fords for the next forty years, until he’d bought the 1960 Thunderbird convertible. He’d instantly fallen in love with the car with the sweeping tailfins and had never bought another. In the past five decades he’d spent a fortune maintaining the Thunderbird, and he didn’t regret a single cent. This car was his pride and joy. Sitting back, he pressed gently on the accelerator and the big V8 engine surged forward with a low bubbling growl.

“Careful,” Scathach said, the first words she’d spoke in over three hundred miles. “We don’t want to get pulled over for speeding.”

“I’m always careful.” Billy smiled.

The red-haired woman straightened in the seat and pushed her sunglasses up onto her head. She looked around. The road on either side was lost in the night, only briefly illuminated as the headlights washed over road signs. “Where are we?”

“We’ve made good time. We’ve just gone through Barstow and turned onto Interstate 15. Maybe two and half hours to Vegas. We should arrive there with the dawn.”

Scathach stretched, working her head up and down. Muscles popped. “You’ve been driving all night. How do you feel?”

“I’m fine. I love driving. One of these days I think I’d like to drive from one side of the country to the other, coast to coast.”

Scathach nodded. “I went by train a long time ago,” she offered. “I never really thanked you for this, did I? I know you didn’t exactly volunteer.”

“No, I didn’t,” he admitted, and grinned. “But I didn’t think I was in a position to protest. I thought you were going to bite my head off. I didn’t realize you were a vampire.”

“I don’t drink blood,” she said with a smile, deliberately showing her teeth. The dashboard lit her face from below, turning it into a terrifying mask. “My clan, the vampires—vampire with an
i
—are vegetarians. There are others, vampyres, with a
y
, who are blood drinkers.”

“That’s good to know. I thought you were all blood drinkers. How can I tell the clans apart?”

“You can’t. The best advice I can give you is to stay away from all of them. We’re bad news.”

“Even you?” he teased.

“Especially me.”

Billy grimaced. “So,” he said, changing the subject. “Your friend who’s in trouble. What are you going to do?”

“Rescue him.”

“All on your own?”

“You really have no idea who I am, do you?”

The immortal shook his head. “Never heard of you before today.”

“Well, let’s hope you never find out.”

“Look …,” Billy began slowly. He’d been thinking as they drove. “I’m not real comfortable with the idea of you facing off against a bunch of vampyres—with a
y
—on your own. Maybe I could hang around and back you up.”

It took the Shadow a moment before she could answer. She threw back her head and laughed, the sound high and pure on the desert air. And then, as quickly as it had come, the laughter died. “Why, do you not think I’m up to it?”

Billy shook his head. “No, no, nothing like that. But there might be a lot of them, and besides, everyone needs a helping hand sometimes.”

Scathach straightened and quickly reached down for the nunchaku on the floor by her feet. The chain connecting the two short lengths of wood rattled as she picked it up.

“Something wrong?” Billy glanced in the rearview mirror. They were the only car on the long, straight Interstate 15.

“We’ve got company,” Scathach said quietly. She pointed off to her side of the road with the blunt end of the nunchaku.

For a moment, the immortal saw nothing, and then a dozen red and golden circles briefly flared before vanishing. “Coyotes?” he asked.

Scathach shook her head. “Too big. Wolves.”

“There are no wolves in this part of California.”

“Exactly.”

He peered out into the night. “Where are they?”

“They’re here.”

The road curved slightly and the Thunderbird’s headlights picked out four huge gray wolves sitting up ahead at the edge of the highway. As the lights washed over their snouts, their eyes glowed golden.

“I’m guessing these are not natural,” Billy said quietly.

“What do you think?” Scathach asked. She leaned back so that Billy could look across her. The wolves were loping silently alongside the car, keeping pace with it.

Billy checked the speedometer. “We’re doing seventy-five miles an hour. What kind of unnatural are they?”

“Cucubuths. Shape-changers. Abominations. They’re the spawn of a vampire and one of the Were clans. Can you see their auras?”

Billy squinted into the night. Wisps of smoke curled off the running wolves. “Dirty gray?”

“In their human form, they will have tails, but their auras will always reveal them.”

“Will they attack?”

“No. They’re merely monitoring our progress.”

“So we’re expected.”

“
I
am expected,” she clarified.

“You said your friend was being held captive by vampyres.”

“I did.”

“So who told them you were coming?” Billy asked. “And coming down this road?”

The Shadow shook her head. The same thoughts had been running through her head.

“Sounds to me like you’re riding into a trap,” Billy murmured.

“It wouldn’t be the first time.” Scathach showed her vampire teeth. “And I’m still here.”

9.

The apartment took up the entire top floor of one of the newest towers in Las Vegas. The walls were entirely glass, offering a 360-degree vista of the city and the surrounding desert landscape. And while every room in the hotel and casino below had been decorated to the most particular specifications, the penthouse was unfinished. Snaking loops of wire curled from the metal ceiling joists, the supporting columns were bare metal and the concrete floor was still covered in thick sheets of plastic. Workmen’s tools were piled in one corner of the huge room, cans of paint and ladders in another.

The golden-haired young man in the impeccably tailored black suit was reflected in the dirty floor-to-ceiling windows. Opening a sliding door, he stepped out onto a broad curved balcony. Far below him, spread out in a glittering sweep of color, lay Las Vegas. He loved this view. There were taller buildings in Vegas, more spectacular hotels and casinos, but none of them had this view. The apartment had been chosen and designed to allow him to look out over the city he secretly ruled, but he’d stopped construction midway to completion. Before it could be finished, there was something he needed to do. Someone he needed to kill.