“How do you know?”

  “I long ago learned not to trust my physical senses. Our intuition is far greater than we give it credit for. And mine is telling me to wait… but not for much longer.”

  Earl stared at the naked German, taking in all the bruises and wounds that had been inflicted. He remembered his own fall from grace, his own forced journey into self-awareness. He’d been so angry and so frightened but at the end, he’d screamed for death to come and take him.

  Only when the final moment came, he’d turned and clung to life with a ferocious tenacity. He’d opened his eyes to a whole new way of being: like a phoenix rising from the ashes, he’d found new life.

  “Lazarus Gray is just like us,” The Darkling whispered, startling Earl.

  “I don’t know what you mean.”

  “He was born as Richard Winthrop, right in this very house. But eventually he was brought to death’s door, carried there by the weight of his sins. But he refused to give up. He looked into the mirror and saw his true face… and he returned to the world of the living, as a new being.”

  Earl said nothing, digesting this information. For the past few years, The Darkling had seemed superhuman, capable of handling any threat. He had laid waste to all his foes… but now that they’d crossed paths with Assistance Unlimited, it was clear that Earl’s employer had met his match. The Darkling seemed both pleased and terrified by this notion.

  “Now,” The Darkling said, and he drove the needle deep into Jakob’s heart.

  Then both men stepped back as Jakob Sporrenberg sprang up, eyes wide. The German gasped like a newborn, a long moan rising up that rattled his chest.

  Jakob rolled off the table, falling to one knee. Earl realized that the German was whispering, talking to himself in German: “Ich bin tot. Ich bin lebendig. Eidolon.”

  The Darkling stepped forward, touching Jakob on the shoulder. “Shh,” he said. “Don’t be afraid. You’ve survived the worst of it.”

  Jakob looked up at him and there was something different in his eyes: some sort of hardness, a cold steel that had not been there before. “I died.”

  “Yes.”

  “Jakob Sporrenberg died.”

  “Yes.”

  Jakob straightened up, looking around himself as if seeing the world for the first time. “You have something for me,” he said with a definitive air. “Don’t you?”

  The Darkling held out a hand towards Earl, who was now holding a set of clothes, complete with mask and hood. “Does it look familiar?”

  Jakob took the mask, holding it before him. It was a skull, but of a different design than The Darkling’s. “It’s my face. My true face.”

  “And your name?”

  Jakob looked at The Darkling and smiled. “I am Eidolon.”

  “Eidolon. I like it.” The Darkling squeezed Eidolon’s shoulder. “You need to get dressed. It won’t be too long before Assistance Unlimited tracks us down. I’m surprised it’s taken this long. When you meet them, it’s important that you’re in your new identity.”

  “I understand.”

  “And you’re with me?” The Darkling pressed. “Even if it means fighting your friends?”

  “Yes. If need be… I’ll kill them.”

  Chapter IX

  Femi, Queen of the Dead!

  In a small room located on the top floor of Assistance Unlimited’s headquarters, a woman named Femi paced slowly back and forth. Her room had no windows and the only door was barred from the outside, reinforced with all the magic spells that Abby could bring to bear.

  The woman’s name was Femi and she was a princess of ancient Egypt. Cursed to a state of Undeath by the priests of her time, Femi had been restored to full life twice in recent times, only to face defeat at the hands of Lazarus Gray. After her most recent loss, she had been imprisoned in this lonely room, her beauty hidden from the world. With her lustrous black hair, dark eyes and shapely figure, she looked like the popular image of Cleopatra.

  Femi stopped in the middle of the room, closing her eyes tightly. Her unique form of “life” left her ravenous and she enjoyed feasting on the flesh of the living. Her shambling followers, resurrected as mummified zombies, were much the same, though she had none at her disposal at present.

  Somewhere, at the edges of her consciousness, a voice was calling. It whispered for help, pleading for her to come and free it from the flames that engulfed it. It was the voice of a devil, a powerful demonic force that Femi knew could help her.

  Femi walked slowly to the door, placing a hand against its surface. She could feel the magicks that bound her to the room and knew that without feeding, she lacked the power to destroy them - but if the demonic intellect in the furnace could lend her what remained of its own ability, then perhaps she could overwhelm the barrier.

  A rush of power came through her frame. It was only a trickle but it stirred her own magical skill, stimulating what had lain dormant since her alliance with Murder, Unlimited.

  Femi gritted her teeth, her full lips peeling back into a snarl. A shockwave of power radiated off of her, slamming into the door so hard that it buckled under the impact. A second and third wave came from the Egyptian princess and the spells holding the door began to splinter. One final expenditure of power left Femi weak on her knees but it was enough—and the door flew off its hinges, bouncing off the wall across from her room.

  After struggling back to her feet, Femi laughed. She was free.

  This time, she swore, her enemies would all suffer painfully.

  ***

  Karl Raeder, The Silver Wolf, stood outside 6196 Robeson Avenue. He had picked out four different cameras hidden around the block, all recording his every move. He had expected as much but the fact that no one had come out to greet him yet made him believe that the building was, for the moment, empty.

  A quick glance up at the nighttime sky brought a smile to Raeder’s lips. A part of him hated the change and all that it brought with it… but there was a growing segment of his soul that craved it.

  Karl strode towards the door, discarding his coat as he walked. Next came the tie and then his shirt. By the time he’d reached the front doors, he was kicking off his shoes and socks. He kept going until he was dressed in nothing more than briefs.

  A low, guttural growl escaped his throat as the cameras captured what happened next: the painful elongation of his nose and mouth, the sprouting of hair, the twisting of bones and sinew… within moments, the human form of Karl Raeder was gone, leaving behind a scientifically-created werewolf.

  Much like his supernatural relatives, The Silver Wolf was fearsome to behold. When standing upright, he was taller than most men and twice as broad. As saliva dripped from his muzzle, Raeder raised a clawed hand and slammed it against the front door. Made of strong metal, it rocked but refused to give, even as he rained down more blows upon it.

  With annoyance, The Silver Wolf backed away, studying the building. There were many windows that might prove easier to shatter but it was just as likely that Lazarus Gray would have left traps within.

  Before The Silver Wolf could decide upon his next course of action, the front door opened. A beautiful woman dressed in Egyptian finery stood there, watching him with a bemused expression.

  “Let me in,” The Silver Wolf growled, unconsciously echoing the wolf from The Three Little Pigs.

  “I am Princess Femi,” the woman replied haughtily. “And you may enter with my blessing… providing you agree to serve me.”

  “I serve only the Führer.”

  Femi stared hard at The Silver Wolf, her eyes boring into his. “He is but a man. I am more than he can ever hope to be. I have survived death.”

  The Silver Wolf’s ears flattened and he emitted a whine. He believed the woman’s outlandish statement—he could sense her power—but to disobey the oath that he valued above all else? “I am sorry,” he whispered between clenched teeth. “I am a man of honor.”

  “Then the problem is that you’re too much of a man.” Femi placed a hand between his eyes and, before he could draw away, she pumped a burst of energy directly into his brain. He howled like a wounded animal, his eyes closing tightly. When they reopened, gone was the intelligence of man… left in its place was only the snarling fury of the beast.

  Femi smiled, scratching The Silver Wolf’s head. “Good boy.” She turned, the beast following at her heels.

  ***

  The legs and skull of the devil were engulfed by flame but Femi was pleased to see that they were unharmed. She fished them out with a metal hook and dropped them onto a nearby table.

  The Silver Wolf sniffed around the room, occasionally barking loudly. He could smell Lazarus Gray and still recognized him in his bestial state as an enemy.

  Reunite the missing pieces of my body and I will grant you supreme power. Whatever you wish for, shall be yours! The skull whispered, its words echoing in Femi’s mind.

  Femi plucked up the skull, ignoring the fact that it burned her fingertips. “Let us understand one thing, devil: I have served my last master in this world. No longer will I be a partner or a servant! I am a queen! All will bow down before me!”

  There was a pause and then the skull replied, As you wish, my Queen.

  Satisfied, Femi threw the still smoking body parts into a thick sack and slung it over her shoulder. She ascended the stairs, The Silver Wolf trailing behind. Anger blazed through her chest and she thought about burning down the building, robbing Lazarus Gray of his home. Such an act might alert them to her newfound freedom, however, so she elected to hold on to her hate for a later date.

  She strode out the front door, leaving it standing wide open. Raeder’s car was parked around the block but once she’d located it, she realized that the automated chariot was beyond her comprehension—and The Silver Wolf’s current state left him incapable of such complex operation.

  Femi sighed, frustrated by the nature of the modern world. In her own time, she was beloved and feared in equal parts—and had the priests of the old gods not struck at her like cowards, she would have eventually ruled all of Egypt. But now she was trapped here… and even with all her power, she was incapable of so many things. For all her bravado, she realized that she did need others to help her.

  Somewhere out there were members of The Undying, the cultists who had first revived her. But how to contact them? In this day and age, she was uncertain.

  When in doubt, she reasoned, fall back upon the old ways.

  Femi closed her eyes and slowed her breathing, allowing her mind to slip free of the confines of the flesh. Her consciousness focused on The Undying, trying to sense them through their devotion to her.

  When she at last felt the presence of one of their members, she was pleased to realize that they were not far. Apparently, they had stayed close to Sovereign City, knowing of her frequent clashes with the city’s protectors.

  “Come to me,” she commanded, knowing that the message would be received by more than one of the group. They, in turn, would spread the word to others: Femi walked the world of man once more… and she needed them.

  ***

  Three hours later, Femi was soaking in a bath, enjoying the fawning of her followers. There were only four members of The Undying in Sovereign, far fewer than she would have liked. Two of them volunteered to lay down their lives on her behalf and she’d transformed them into the shambling undead, their dried up bodies clothed in surgical bandages. It was the closest thing Femi could find to the sort of cloth once used to make mummies in her time. The effect was the same and that was all that mattered.

  The two remaining Undying were useful in different ways—one of them was a pudgy man with a bald head. He was wealthy and it was his home that they were currently occupying. At present, the man was kneeling next to her bath, occasionally handing her a glass of wine.

  The other man was named Isaam and he was a handsome man with a thick beard and broad shoulders. Femi planned to bed him as soon as she was out of the bath, sating one of her hungers. The one for human flesh would need to be fulfilled soon but she could restrain it for now.

  The door to the bathroom opened and Isaam stepped in. He openly gazed at Femi’s body in the tub, eliciting a smile from her. “I have looked into the matter,” he said, inclining his head. “Lazarus Gray and his friends left via private plane. Their logged flight plan indicated that they were headed to San Francisco.”

  “Is that far from here?”

  “It is the other side of the country.”

  Femi tried to recall the size of the United States, having seen it depicted on maps. Having never had to worry about such things in her past, she simply shrugged her shoulders and moved on to other topics. “What about the devil’s parts?”

  “My sources are not very clear on that,” Isaam admitted. “They say that there are stories of multiple parties searching for them: the Nazis, the American government, Assistance Unlimited and a vigilante known as The Darkling.”

  “I don’t care who might be searching for them—I want to know who has them!”

  Cowed by the anger in her voice, Isaam bowed his head. “Though I cannot say the information is 100% accurate, I have been told that the American government believes that The Darkling has the heart and both hands.”

  Femi stood up, the water dripping off her perfect breasts and down her long legs. “You will have sex with me now, Isaam. Then I must feed… and after that, we will find this Darkling. He will either submit to my authority and give the pieces to me—or he will die and become one of my slaves!”

  Chapter X

  Old Friends, New Enemies

  “Are you okay?” Samantha asked, staring intently at the face of her friend and employer. The Assistance Unlimited team was gathered outside the front door of Gray’s childhood home, waiting for the signal to break into the home.

  “I’m fine,” was the terse reply. Then, lowering his voice, he added, “Like I’ve told you in the past, the worst part isn’t seeing things like this—it’s not feeling it. I know I grew up here, I remember last seeing my parents alive here… but it’s like it happened to someone else or like I watched it in a movie.”

  Samantha started to reach out to him but he was already on the move. “Remember, everyone,” he said, “Jakob is inside there. Watch your shots—we don’t want to accidentally wound him.”

  “I’ve got a few anti-illusion spells readied,” Abby said. “I’ll spring them as soon as we’re inside since they only last for so long.”

  The team aligned in a set formation as Eun sprang forward, propelling himself through the air. His kick was enough to shatter the door right off its hinges, opening up the house to their invasion.

  Lazarus took the point, leading the charge inside, with Eun and Morgan just behind on either side of him. The girls brought up the rear, with Abby already whispering her magic words. All of them, including Abby, were armed with .45 automatics.

  Distant memories welled up within Lazarus, reminding him of long-lost moments with his parents. He recognized the living room quite well, remembering how his father would sit on the couch in the evenings, reading the paper and smoking his pipe. His mother would be nearby, knitting or reading herself. Lazarus—back in his Richard identity—would be on the floor, sprawled out with paper and crayons.

  Everything was covered with a fine layer of dust now and Lazarus felt a pang of guilt: he’d let the place fall into ruin. Technically, the property still belonged to him, though he hadn’t thought of it until now.

  Even if he wasn’t going to use the house, he should have sold it, so that a new family could have built their own memories in this place.

  He barely had time to process those thoughts before a voice interrupted his musing. “Stop right there….”

  All eyes whipped towards the stairs leading to the second floor. The man standing there wore a bodysuit and mask that evoked The Darkling. His build was different and—most disturbingly of all—his voice was all too familiar.

  “Jakob?” Samantha asked, momentarily forgetting herself. She started to step towards her friend and winced as Eun grabbed her wrist to stop her.

  “Jakob Sporrenberg is dead,” came the reply. “All that is left is Eidolon.”

  Lazarus noted that Eidolon held a pistol in each hand and that they were pointed directly at him. “Jakob, whatever he’s done to you, you’re stronger than this. Put away your guns.”

  “No.”

  Morgan caught Eun’s eye and something silent passed between them. They’d both seen enough violence to sense what was coming. It would be violent and awful, made all the more so because of who they were facing.

  Eidolon suddenly shifted his aim and pulled the triggers, fire spitting from the muzzle of both guns. The bullets ripped through the air and slammed hard into Abby’s body, sending her flying back with a loud grunt of pain. Blood sprayed from wounds in her torso and she hit the ground with a thud, her eyes staring at the ceiling.

  The rest of Assistance Unlimited responded in kind—despite the fact that the man in the mask was the same one they had come here to rescue, this was now a fight for their lives. Each of them dove for cover, delivering return fire.

  Eidolon dropped and rolled down the stairs, his padded bodysuit protecting him from the impact. Bullets were tearing through the plaster behind but so far he’d only felt one hit his body: a bullet was lodged painfully just below his right arm.

  Lazarus, hidden behind the couch, winced as Eidolon’s bullets pierced the fabric and narrowly missed him. He sprang up to return fire, just in time to see that Eidolon was throwing some sort of grenade into the room. Lazarus shot it in mid-air, wanting to destroy it before it could hit the ground. The grenade exploded, releasing a puff of smoke that spread quickly through the room.

  Cursing, Lazarus realized that Jakob had unleashed some sort of gas. Quickly holding his breath, Lazarus saw that Eun was jumping towards his former teammate, anger evident on his face. Eidolon dodged a punch from Eun and slammed the butt of his pistol into the young man’s mouth, cracking a tooth.

 

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