26. Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-five:
Knox
Knox sat up in his bed, stroking Amelia’s back as he flipped through his crystalpad. Maevin sent him some more reports, images, files, etc. about what he’d collected from the traitors. Zavros and Hellen took the truth potion to the casino, called an employee meeting for every shift, made everyone take a sip and answer a question. Thankfully, only four others were forced into the basement. He was going to head into the casino once Amelia woke up.
Last night, she was distraught. There was something shattered and hollow about her that he could tell was changing her mood. The blank stare from her at the table plus the needy kiss, he knew better than to leave her to her thoughts. Because he didn’t want to be left alone with his.
And so, he took away her control and let her just relax.
The look of relief on her face when she put on that collar was all he needed. Knox glanced at the slumbering woman, watching her shoulders raise and fall. Her blueberry hair splayed across the pillow. Knox’s fingers brushed across her tendrils, tucking them behind her ears.
No one is allowed to take her from me.
Declan might have the upper hand at the moment, having the vampiric power and knowledge of the rats, but the one thing he never had was Knox’s tenacity. Declan was always too narcissistic to see things clearly. And Declan would burn.
Knox saw the light on his phone as a call rang on silent. He slipped from the bed begrudgingly, cancelling the call. Stepping out into the hall, the sound of Denver’s voice and hooves told him that he was leading someone into Knox’s office.
He toed around the hallway quietly, taking inventory of the morning. The hazy light, the cool air brushing across his shoulders as he climbed down the steps in only slacks. His toes pressed against the hard wood and sent a sharp, frosty bite up through his bones. Denver stepped outside of his office and bowed his head to Knox. “The Lord Commander is making a house call, shall I have him wait for you to dress, sir?”
Knox contemplated going back up the stairs before shaking his head, “He’s the one who intruded early in the morning. He’s lucky he’s getting me in pants.”
Denver smirked, bowing a second time. “Of course, sir, I’ll have clothes set out for you and Ms. Armstrong for when you’re done with the Lord Commander. Shall I have breakfast made for the road?”
“Yes, thank you.” Knox passed Denver into the doorway of his office. A massive dark cloud loomed over his fireplace. Sharp talons clicked impatiently against the floor, a wing arched against the wall. Aravis Blightwood stared into the fire.
“Mr. Zrazduel,” Aravis spoke before Knox could say something first. It put a scowl on the fiend’s lips, watching the tall, brooding gentleman twist toward him.
“Lord Commander, and what do I owe this monumentous honor?” Knox raised a testy brow, arms crossed over his chest.
“You owe me answers, Zrazduel, and honest ones. You’re going to be truthful with me, and I’ll consider not throwing you and Ms. Armstrong in the same cell as Richard Calhoon.” Aravis stalked across the room toward Knox.
“Not a very good start, I must say Blightwood. If you want any hospitality and honesty from me, which I know for a fact you need as your investigation is coming up dry, you’ll need to rethink your threats. Try again—” Knox was ripped off his feet by massive, inky claws wrapped around his throat. The cheekiest of shit eating grins filled his face as Aravis glared at him. “Harder.”
Aravis dropped him with a snarl, “Tell me why I shouldn’t just arrest you for the murder of Sandra Bullnost? Why I shouldn’t try my luck for your business as well? Why I shouldn’t march into that building and put everyone in cuffs?”
“Well, for starters, there aren’t enough cuffs in the realm, Blightwood. I employee far more people than you have jail cells for. And second, my business is clean. You can look all you want, you won’t find a single crumb in which to arrest me for. Even my kitchen is above board and standard.” Knox clambered to his feet before motioning toward the couch. “Come, have a seat. I did tell you I’d give you answers, so why don’t you tell me what you know, and I’ll fill in the blanks, huh?”
Knox settled onto the plush couch, back against the arm rest, and a leg folded over the other. Aravis glared but sat across from him. Taking up most of the couch with his bulky wings and talons, his sharp eyes narrowed on Knox. The fiend grinned. This was going far better than he expected it might.
“Richard Calhoon is an alias, not sure how many he has, but he’s got a bunch. He’s a part of a small crew of thieves; they’ve run a few scams here and there but it seems here in King’s Fall they were in it for the long con. He marries Penny Armstrong, now Penny Calhoon, and racks up quite the debt with you. One fateful night, he gets into an argument with Sandra Bullnost for his outburst in the casino, where he punches her and steals her identity. At some point you must have realized he’d done more than cheat you of some gold, and had him snatched from your casino floor. From there, till an anonymous tip from an employer I still can’t source, Richard is missing. I’m assuming, that is your doing?” Aravis folded his claws in his lap.
“Very good, Lord Commander. So, what you’re missing is Rick purposely came back to my casino as a distraction. I didn’t know it at the time, but he was racking up money in attempt to rile me up, Sandra was spying on me and mine, and they wanted me to catch Rick. I had him brought to the woods, where he told me his wife was a bank manager and could clean some money for me. Unfortunately, when we collected Amelia and Penny, they were very distraught at Rick. A fight ensued where Rick did not make it out, or so I thought, alive. Amelia and I struck a deal and I thought that was that. Until it turns out, Rick is able to put himself back together again, and that Sandy was selling the information she was gathering on me to a man named Declan.” He left out the part where Amelia stabbed Rick in the neck. Best to keep that part vague, especially given Rick was still very much alive.
“Declan, being the old mob boss whom…as far as I was told and the rumors say, you killed?” Aravis eyed Knox.
“Funny thing that, as I was sure Declan was dead too. But yes, one and the same. You see, Declan stole a very important book from the Library of Madness in the Nightmare Realm. It has infected him, given him a false immortality as a vampire. He’s cursed and he’s infecting others as he goes. I suspect Rick is one of his infected spawn, much like a sweet but strong teenage girl named Gael Rennly is…a girl who was in my care after I found her in one of Rick’s Friend’s basements. She is no longer in my care after my business was attacked.”
Aravis let out a slow, aggravated breath. “And where is the missing teen now?”
“Probably with her vampire sire, helping him unwillingly in his plot to destroy me. Declan isn’t after money, he’s after me. He’s coming for me.” Knox leaned over his lap and locked eyes with Aravis. “And if you’re wise you’ll help me find and kill him first.”
“Why would I ever help you? You’re a career criminal.” Aravis’s words were soft, impassive, barely a hint of tone. He was hiding something. Which meant Aravis was looking for a specific answer.
Knox wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he gave what Aravis needed. “You’re a fool if you think you can clean this city of all crime. Laws are just rules set by the elite to keep the status quo and punish those not powerful, rich, or beautiful enough to change it. So don’t you dare look me in the eye like you’re better than me, Aravis Blightwood. Not when this city did nothing to help me or save me. It owes me .”
Aravis sat in cold, emotionless silence, staring directly at Knox. A twinge of expectation filled Aravis’ eyes. Knox was all too happy to comply. “Declan will ravage this city. He will eat and kill and drink it dry until there is nothing left. The infection has turned him into a monster of unimaginable power and hunger. And that’s just icing on the cake, because Declan before the infection was no walk in the park either. Your father must have told you the stories. Everyone knew and yet no one did a thing about it. ”
“He told me of Declan’s territorial tendencies, yes—”
Knox barked out a laugh, “Territorial? Declan was a soulless, merciless, blood thirsty beast even before he got the fangs. I was eight when a man in a suit paid me a handful of silver to deliver a box. That’s all. I wasn’t allowed to know what was in the box. It was an ear. One of Declan’s toys that he didn’t truly care for, but it was all it took for him to hang me by my toes in his dungeon. He cut me from pelvis to throat, over and over, bleeding me till I was a husk then using his twisted clerics to bring me back. He killed me, a child with no money or idea what I did to deserve it, over and over and over again until it pleased him to put me to work. He’d make me run packages and then when I wasn’t back in time, which I never could be, he’d hang me from the ceiling and gut me again. Play in my insides and stuff me back together again… Just a street kid, a sewer rat, and he did that over an ear, Blightwood. Imagine how he feels after I ripped him apart and set fire to his empire. I built my whole life, my whole career, over the ashes of his, Blightwood.”
Aravis softened, his face full of empathy as he studied Knox’s feral, wide eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Oh please,” Knox rolled his eyes, tossing himself back against the arm of the couch. “You think I was his only victim? That I was the only child he murdered for fun? I saw him butcher an entire family for cutting off his limo in traffic. Declan was a cruel, unfeeling, monster. I may be many things, Aravis, but I’m not him. My employees you threatened to arrest? Most of them were victims of Declan. I offered them a chance to live a life, to get back even an ounce of revenge on the man who ruined them. And for the most part they’re loyal, though, it seemed there were a few rats in the nest. I’ve cleaned house…but that won’t stop Declan. He is out for more than blood and he’s clearly not going to stop. So, what are you going to do about it?”
Aravis stared at Knox for a long while, the crackling of wood the only sound in the room. Knox could hear the creaking of floorboards above his head, the movement of feet around the house, the way it breathed. Aravis finally broke the silence with a sigh, “Unfortunately, I think I’m about to offer my aid.”
“Unfortunately,” Knox teased, “you wound me.”
“I want it clear I am doing this for the good of King’s Fall and not because I like you or want to encourage more of your business, Mr. Zrazduel.” Aravis climbed to his feet, straightening his coat. “We will speak more later. But as long as you keep honest with me, as you have, I will do everything in my power to keep you, yours, and the city safe.”
Aravis left the room, feathers ruffled but nonetheless on board. Now if only Knox could get to Declan first. Despite Aravis’ ambitions to help, Knox was 100% sure the Fowlst would merely arrest Declan. There was no reality where this ended well for either Knox or Aravis if Declan was suffered to live. No, he’d earned a final death…and this time, Knox knew exactly what to do to ensure he croaked.
“Sir?” Denver poked his head into the office.
“Have Ms. Armstrong dressed and fed, please. I have a little bit of business to conduct before we leave for the casino.” Knox glanced over his shoulder to his butler. The centaur bowed deeply, slipping the door shut behind him. The resounding click filled the office with dread. All the lights within the room hissed as they were snuffed out. From his desk, the book he’d last touched flipped through pages as if in front of a moving fan. The stifling heat of a cauldron made his skin moist with sweat.
Knox turned around to face his fireplace to find that it was replaced. Instead of his couch, he was sat on a massive cushion before a bubbling cauldron. Fire of all colors licked up the side of the iron. A face, twisted and pained, was embellished on the side as if their face was burned into the metal before it set in place. Knox’s gaze trailed up the side of the cauldron belly. His crone leaned over the concoction, stirring it steadily with a heavy wooden spoon.
“Little fear-eater, whatever are you going to do?” she teased with a crackling voice, her throat bobbing with every taunting syllable.
“I’m going to eat him, just like I should have done the first time.” Knox climbed to his feet.
She didn’t answer at first, stirring constantly. Her eyes bore through the goop in her cauldron, as if searching it for answers. Knox followed her gaze, seeing the film of the potion slip away…leaving a small window. An image of him, glowing with gold veins, eyes black, horns curled and on fire. He was wrenched backward uncomfortably, fangs bared up to the sky, his tails lashing out with heavy barbs. As she stirred around the edge, the vision began to change…the Knox in the cauldron was replaced by the same face he saw in the mirror. His mirror image turned away from him and smiled down at Amelia. She tugged on him, covered in a pink mist that he inhaled. Feeding off her happiness. Knox watched his mirror self-feeding off her joy that she gave freely, twirling in his arms on the ballroom floor of his home. His heart lurched.
The brew darkened, thickening up into a heavy, viscous goop.
“’Tis a shame, isn’t it?” Persephone smirked to herself as she raised her gaze from the green ooze frothing up in her cauldron.
“A shame?” Knox huffed.
“You’d just started to become a devourer, and you’d chomp him right up to what? Absorb his power? His madness? The man’s infected, biting into him would only infect you?” She peaked up with a mischievous evil glint in her eye.
“What?” Knox exhaled heavily. “Wait, so that…that first version of me—”
“Is what happens if you feed from him,” Persephone whisked the spoon from the cauldron and dunked it into a massive bucket full of water. It hissed and sizzled, leaving a burning pine scent in the air.
“And the second one?” Knox blurted out, desperate to know the truth. “I fed on her desire before, it was…it was better than the fear. It tasted sweeter. Are you saying I can feed on other things? Other emotions?”
“A fear-eater is only the beginning to becoming the Nightmare Devourer, my sweet boy.” Persephone reached over the cauldron and booping his nose. “But if you ruin that nice diet you’re on, you’ll lose her and yourself. Sure, you’ll have unimaginable power but there is always a cost, Knox.”
“Then how do I destroy him? How do I make sure he stays dead?” Knox slammed his palms down onto the lip of the cauldron, ignoring the searing pain on his palms.
“Get him and the book in a room, then Amelia will be the answer.”
His eyes fell closed and his hands fell to his sides. The pain eased and left him hollow as the fireplace crackled to life. He took a deep breath, soaking in the scent of his home once more.
Fucking witches and their fucking riddles. He ripped around, grabbing the first thing he touched, and threw it into the fireplace. The glass exploded upon impact. Whatever had been in it fed the fire. It licked up the inside of his fireplace, lighting the office in a roaring orange light. As it settled, he was there, panting. Shoulders raising and falling rapidly, he watched the dancing flames for answers. He was left with none. Amelia will be the answer. If it meant she had to die, he would burn the world.
If it meant that Persephone had plans for his little author…well then, he’d be a tad bit miffed.
“Zavros!” He snarled, storming around the couch.
“Yeah, boss?” His best muscle and right hand broke into the room at the same time Knox got to the door.
“You remember Mr. Hurley?” Knox cocked a brow, staring up at the ogre in his doorway.
“Yeah, the one the Bonesaw brothers asked us to whack, right?” Zavros pulled out his phone, immediately his thumbs flying.
“Precisely, find out where Mr. Hurley is right now…I need to get out some pent out frustration.”