Götterdämmerung (8 page)

“You either work for us or you don’t.”

“If you make me choose, I’ll side with you, but I don’t see why I should have to.”

Fritz said nothing for a moment and when he spoke again, Nimrod knew that he’d nearly gone too far. “We reached out to you because of your heritage. If you toe the line, you can be assured of a place in the coming world order. The Third Reich is already spreading across Europe and, in time, America will belong to the Fatherland as well. You would do well to remember that. Whatever money you may be receiving from those degenerates now will pale next to the glory—or torment—that will await you in the future. It is your choice which it is to be.”

Nimrod sighed. Pro-German forces had approached him nearly a year ago. They offered him money to assassinate enemies within the United States and to continue to hunt down the masked vigilantes who were sweeping the nation. Until now, they had said nothing about his continuing to accept money from others. He knew it might come up, particularly with his “double dipping” on the same assignment, but he saw no conflict of interest. Nevertheless, he knew what he was expected to say. “I will inform my other employers that I am no longer available to them. They might have questions when they find out that I completed the contract, however.”

“We are not concerned with your reputation, Nimrod. In fact, we are changing your status, effective immediately. From this day forward, you are part of the Occult Forces Project. That is the agency that will oversee all German super-soldiers.”

“I have German ancestry but I’m American.”

“I will forgive you for saying that. Your Aryan blood takes precedence over any loyalty you feel for your current homeland. Do you understand?”

“Of course.” Nimrod gritted his teeth and added, “I’ll resume my hunt for The Peregrine.”

“He is in Sovereign.”

“What?”

“You heard me. He was sighted entering the headquarters of Assistance Unlimited. You are to leave Atlanta immediately. We have a private plane reserved for you. If you encounter any of Sovereign’s heroes, you may feel free to deal with them as you see fit but The Peregrine should remain your primary target. He has attracted the attention of The Füehrer and he’s considered a threat to our activities in America.”

“I’ll do as I’m told,” Nimrod said. He hung up after getting the details of his flight, slamming the receiver down so hard that it nearly toppled over in the cradle.

His dreams of retirement suddenly seemed very far away. Once he’d killed The Peregrine, there was a very good chance that he’d be ordered to Berlin to become part of whatever-the-hell an Occult Forces Project was.

He got dressed in an efficient manner, packing as he did so. He was a very clever man and he was already thinking of ways to free himself from the snare in which he had become trapped. He would definitely kill The Peregrine. He felt he had to, in light of his defeat. Beyond that… beyond that, he might yet be able to turn this into a profitable enterprise.

* * *

Berlin

Otto Luther sat alone in his laboratory. He’d clutched the vial of liquid throughout Himmler’s visit, afraid that if he allowed it to leave his hands, he would never get close to the miracle fluid again. He’d hated to see his fellow scientist die, particularly when it was done solely to show off the power of Sonya Schneider, but Otto was glad that it wasn’t he who had perished.

Thirty-three years old and handsome, Otto had risen through the ranks to his current position with the OFP. He wasn’t the smartest of men, despite the degrees he’d attained but he was tenacious and calculating. If need be, he was quite willing to steal the work of others and take the credit for it. Indeed, it had been a clever bit of theft that had gained him access to the Occult Forces Project.

Science had always been a means to an end. As a young boy, he’d sliced open kittens and performed awkward experiments upon neighborhood pets. He was sick. At his very core, he was a sadist and a monster. Science simply gave him access to tools of torture that he’d always lusted after.

Resting on the cluttered desktop before him was a vial of the girl’s spittle. It was thick, more like mucous than saliva, and every now and then it pulsed with a peculiar kind of life. He’d been ordered to begin conducting research on it and he planned to do that but a truly strange thought kept interrupting his musings: why waste such power on a prisoner or a foot soldier?

He snatched up the vial and took a deep, shuddering breath. A moment later and the stopper was gone, allowing the somewhat fetid odor to fill his nostrils. He turned the vial upside down and opened his mouth, allowing the foul fluid to drip down onto his tongue. He swallowed hard, trying not to retch… and within seconds, he knew that his life would be changed forever.

His skin began to grow hot, as if it were burning, and his eyes swelled. He howled like an injured dog and fell to the floor, his hands hugging his torso. He was deathly afraid now, terrified that he’d gone too far, when suddenly everything went black…

How long he floated in the darkness, he had no idea. He thought he felt the oily touch of unfamiliar nubby hands and the whispered gibberings of voices that were not human but he saw nothing save the stygian core of chaos, the true face of reality.

“Wake up.”

The feminine voice seeped into his consciousness, stirring him.

“Wake up,” it commanded.

Slowly, the world came once more into view and he saw that Sonya Schneider—or the thing that wore her flesh, at least—was standing beside him. She was nude, her firm young body looking particularly inviting. It was cold in his lab and tiny goose bumps dotted her skin and made her pink nipples stand out.

Otto looked down at his hands and felt a stunned kind of horror settle over him. His skin was gone, leaving behind nothing but bone. He touched the ground and felt the floor, despite having no flesh with which to do so.

“Do not be afraid,” Darhoth cooed. “You are beautiful. You stripped away all the artifice and now show your true self.”

Otto rose to his feet, swaying unsteadily. He staggered over to a mirror and looked at his reflection, knowing what he would see but still compelled to confront the terror. His face was nothing but a skull with two deep holes where his eyes should have been. His clothing was different, too, looking like something from a children’s fairy tale: black cloth, with cloth shaped like white bones sewn where his ribs and chest should be. He wore a white belt that cinched his tight trousers and shirt together. Over his shoulders was slung an opera-style cape.

“What am I?” he whispered. “How can I talk with no tongue… How can I see with no eyes?”

Darhoth stepped to him and wrapped her arms about his waist. He could feel the heat from her body against his. “Magic,” she hissed. “The simplest, most complicated explanation of all. You are Mr. Death, a name that will please your Himmler and Hitler, I think.”

The newly christened Mr. Death turned to face her. “I have power, don’t I? I can feel it… in my bones.”

She stood on her tiptoes, leaning forward to run her tongue roughly against his exposed teeth. “You can kill with a touch,” she hissed. “And you are now immortal. Though you bear his features, the grim reaper can never have you now. You are beyond him.”

Otto barked out a mad bit of laughter. He’d never been the most stable of men but now… now he was definitively unhinged. “Death,” he whispered. “Mayhem. Slaughter. Oh, my!” He laughed again before pulling away from her. He performed a jig, a skeleton man flopping about in perverse merriment. When he stopped, he slapped his skeletal palms against his covered chest and exclaimed, “I’m going to kill sooooooo many people!”

“Yes,” Darhoth said, smiling cruelly. “But first you must fall to your knees and accept me as your mistress.”

Mr. Death looked at her, his empty eyes traveling down the length of her body. Once, he’d have wanted her… oh, yes… but now he felt nothing but a distant stirring, as if he’d almost forgotten what her parts could have done for him. In his current state, he was beyond such things. “I don’t think so, sweets. Mr. Death serves pure chaos… and as long as you do, too, then we’re on the same side. But I’m not bowing down before you.”

For a moment, Darhoth looked furious but then the moment passed and she seemed to take on a pleased expression. “Welcome to the other side, Mr. Death.” She held out a hand and, after a moment of consideration, Otto Luther took it. “You’re going to do just fine.”

CHAPTER VII

Gathering of Forces

Sovereign City

It looked like something torn straight from a nightmare—an old house that loomed against the moonlit sky. It was a massive pile of ancient stone, fine woodwork and dark shadows. The impression that it gave was that it was almost a living thing, this isolated mansion known locally as Hendry Hall—a living thing that was just waiting to sink its fangs into the bodies of all those unlucky enough to cross its doorway.

Hendry Hall was known to all in Sovereign as a cursed place, full of mysteries and death. That description was still applicable now that it belonged to Cedric Hendry and was the headquarters for Gravedigger’s war on crime.

With dark hair, deep-set eyes, and a square jaw, Cedric Hendry was a businessman who looked like he could have stepped right off of Wall Street. He had moved to Sovereign in order to inherit the family estate and he had remained there because he’d fallen in love with Li Yuchun. Their relationship was an awkward one because of their varying morality but in the end, they were still together, and that was something that Charity couldn’t help but be envious of.

Of course, Charity had her own romance. She and Mitchell were lovers though neither of them held out any great hope for marriage or children. Not only did their racial differences pose problems for the rest of the world but both were well aware of not only Charity’s time limit to redeem her soul but also the simple, unavoidable fact that either could meet their ultimate end at any time.

Charity watched Li and Cedric’s flirting and was glad that her mask hid her face. If it hadn’t, it would have been all too obvious what sort of thoughts were going through her mind.

As always, the deadline appointed by The Voice took the forefront of her thoughts. How could it not? She only had so long before she’d either be condemned to eternal torment or find a new lease on life.

She turned to look at The Dark Gentleman, who stood at a window. He was staring out of it, digesting all that Gravedigger and Mitchell had said to him. The offer had been simple enough: they wanted him to join their organization. His detective skills were something that they needed and, in return, they could offer him support and a base of operations. It was, they said, time to elevate his status from rabble-rouser to something bigger.

The well-dressed vigilante had listened in silence, nodding thoughtfully every now and then. When the spiel had ended, he had risen from his chair and begun deliberating what his response would be.

When he spoke, his voice was low but quite audible. Cedric and Li fell silent, knowing that this was important.

“I’ve mostly avoided working with others. I like the freedom of being on my own and, to be honest, I recognize the fact that I’m not cut out for taking on the guys who want to blow up the city. My skill set is such that I’m better for punching out goons than I am for destroying weather-controlling machines.”

Gravedigger replied, “It doesn’t have to be that way. I’m not exactly a normal woman but the rest of the team are just human beings. They all bring certain talents to the group, though. And so would you.” She took a step closer and The Dark Gentleman turned to face her. “And we wouldn’t want to restrict your freedom. I’m not asking you to move in and be a full-time agent of mine. I’d just want to be able to call upon you. Occasionally, we run into a mystery that’s a little bit beyond us. You have the ability to look at clues and see things that others miss. You’d help me track down a lot of very bad people.”

“And then you’d kill them?” he asked. “That’s part of what gives me pause. I know the justice system in this town is corrupt. That’s part of why I do what I do. But I think circumventing the law is only going to make it worse. The last thing we need is to go back to the Old West, where the townspeople rise up to make sure that justice is served. I dream of a day when I can take off this mask and I’m not needed. Is that what you want?”

“Believe it or not, it is. Look, I don’t kill people because I enjoy it. I do it because that’s what I’ve been ordered to do. The Voice didn’t tell me to put people in jail. It told me to throw dirt on their graves. I answer to a higher power than any judge or police commissioner.”

“Right,” he said. “The Voice. I have to admit that I’m not sure what to make of that part of your story. Are you insane? Or have you really made contact with God… or some reasonable facsimile?”

Mitchell shook his head. “She’s not crazy. Not unless Josef was, too. And Mortimer. And all the other Gravediggers there’s been since the dawn of time, too.”

The Dark Gentleman looked at each of the people in the room, studying their faces. They looked like earnest individuals and he knew that Gravedigger was right. They did need each other. He opened his mouth, prepared to conditionally accept her offer, but a sudden chiming sound made everyone else in the room jump to life.

Mitchell held up his hands and said, “I’m on it. Everybody stay here.”

“What’s going on?” The Dark Gentleman asked.

Cedric answered. “We’ve had a problem with people sneaking onto the property so Mitchell ran some cable out along the main drive. Whenever someone drives over it, it sets off a small chime here at the house so we know to expect someone. Given the hour and the fact that all of us are here, it gives us some warning that it might be trouble.”

“Might be Mortimer,” Li offered.

“He called earlier. He’s at a political rally tonight.”

Gravedigger gave a little shushing sound as Mitchell returned. “Who is it?”

“They’re parking outside now—two vehicles and I recognize both. It’s Assistance Unlimited.”