Chapter 13
Day Five (III)
We open the door and step inside, turning on the lights. Chemical smells hit me. 'Human' Adam sneezes once, twice, hard enough that I'm surprised one of the walls doesn't collapse. His face scrunches up in concentration.
"I hate Pine-Sol. It always makes my nose itch," he whines, looking around in disgust. "They did a good job cleaning but I can still smell him. A lot more people too; the cops and the cleaners, I'd guess." He sneezes again. "Yeuch. And a lot of blood, too."
Adam wanders off to check out the rest of the apartment; I take off my coat, and drop it on the freshly sanitized couch, looking around the main room. The apartment's a pretty good size; judging from the layout, I'd say it was originally two, with a connecting wall removed. Adam mutters something, from what I guess is the bedroom, and whines again a low, keening sound that stands my hair on end. If the super-sniffer doesn't like it, odds are I won't either.
I pull my glasses out of a shirt-pocket and look around. Nothing out of the ordinary here. I walk into the kitchenette, opening the fridge to find dozens of bottles of water and precious little else. If they went to all the trouble of sanitizing this place why didn't they clean out the fridge too? Cold-footed ants begin marching up and down my spine. Something is not quite right here...
Adam's whining is getting on my nerves. I follow the sound into the bedroom. He's slipped from fully human to half werewolf, tense, already speaking before he sees me. "There was blood here, a lot of blood, all…all in here, and magic, something old and…and Jayna, I really think we should leave, we really, really, shouldn't be here," he begins tugging at my arm, like an ignored child, "please?"
I try to think of something to say but I looked away as I entered, checking the room. Everything's gone glassy, like suddenly being submersed in ice water, and the sick-shimmer black-light highlights in my glasses are screaming that the whole place is an oh-so-deliberate trap.
Adam pulls at me. I grab onto his arm and pull back, harder than I planned to. I think my strength has frightened him as much as what he was sensing. We hurriedly stumble into the main room. He picks up my coat, and tosses it in my direction. He won't take is eyes off of the doorway to the bedroom, like a child convinced that the boogeyman is going to erupt from the closet at any moment, not that I blame him. I snatch my coat from the air and nod toward the door. I know it's too late almost before he does. Adam's instinctive growl drowns out the non-noise of the Black Gate opening. Far, far too late.
"As I walk through the valley of shadows and death," drawls a calm, dark voice; a foot steps out of the portal, pulls the shadows into shape behind it. "I shall fear no evil." An arm, a torso, a face; blue skin and hate and a mad light gleaming in dead night eyes.
"For I am that evil, and that shadow," says Warren. "And I will be your death."
Something, someone else slides out of the portal, entwines her arms around the fallen Azangel, shark-grins at us. Adam moves automatically in front of me, bares his fangs, raises his claws.
"Awww," smirks Warren's companion. "Puppy." The woman has two auras. One, jet-black, the other, submerged inside, barely visible, white, normal human.
"What say we--" Warren's half moon smile makes something twist in my stomach; Adam gives an involuntary yelp, takes a step backwards as he says, "--neuter the mutt?"
The woman gives a slutty gurgle of a laugh. Warren's has knives in it. He stalks forward, whistling "Here boy, come here boy," and Adam backs up, throws me a silent plea for help, for anything. Great. What a wonderful time to find out that the big, bad, wolf is a virgin.
Distract him, I hear myself think, Just distract him for long enough--
And I ease my fingers into one of the pouches on my belt, touch the cold glass spheres and the woman's hand closes around my wrist before I can realize that I've drawn her attention.
"If you're so desperate to die, my dear," she says and leans in so close her breath tickles my ear, "perhaps we should... do you first."
"Better than you have tried." When all else fails, try bravado.
"Adrienne," growls Warren, throwing a warning, almost jealous look at us; and Adam takes the distraction, back flips, sinking claws into the wall behind him for leverage and then springing forward. I grab the arm still holding mine, try to yank Adrienne off her feet, but she moves with it, breaking my grip and remaining resolutely upright. Behind her I can see Adam's shoulder drive bounce off Warren's chest, sending the werewolf crashing to the floor without even rocking the blue man.
"Pathetic," says Warren and Adrienne smirks at me in agreement, eyes self-satisfied, lazily predatorial.
I swallow against the sudden bitterness in my throat. Warren's raising his hand, show snakes uncoiling from his skin, but it's suddenly hard to see as my peripheral vision fades into shadows. Warren's saying something, but all I hear is Adrienne's bracelets' sharp clink as she moves into a stance I haven't seen in decades.
Scorpion, I remember. It's the scorpion. There's--
There's a counter stance I can't quite remember because Adrienne is side-stepping, tongue gliding glacial across her too black lips; or maybe I'm just watching all this in slow-motion as the adrenaline overload kicks in. There's a word for that too. Hard to see. Shadows move around the room. Keeping my eyes moving to compensate for stress-induced tunnel vision. Is that low rumbling Adam? Something cold against my fingers. Flailing shadow tentacles cut black lines in the air. Cold and glass. I
Adrienne
clench my fist and
is
shatters of glass
closing
bloody my palm
tachypsychia
and her fist whistles past my head but, I, anticipating her opening feint, have already ducked and the crescent kick follow through goes wildly adrift as momentum turns her into range I shove my hand out and blow as hard as I can, spraying breath and blood and glass and the silver dust shimmers from my upturned hand, an expanding explosion
like dandelion seeds dandelion seeds
that wraps around Adrienne, slaps her away, like a fly against a windscreen.
I have time to see Warren has backed a growling and teeth-bared Adam up against a wall before Adrienne hits. The blue man is actually knocked off balance and I have just enough time to think blood, must test it with blood when Adam launches himself out of the corner at his distracted opponent.
Warren's actually sidetracked enough checking on Adrienne to get the full brunt of the first punch in the stomach, barely rolls with the second and catches the third, turning it aside, twisting Adam's wrist, forcing him down. I dive forward, stomping on the crumpled woman for luck, a snap a right heel kick the hits just exactly hard enough to get Warren's attention.
He swipes a hand towards me, the air around his arm lunging forward along the movement, becoming shadow, becoming solid, a thick black tentacle that would have knocked me for six if Adam hadn't taken the opportunity to use Warren's own grip on Adam's arm to pull Warren of balance. As it was, even though I dodge, roll with it, the blow still manages to clip me.
I blink clear of the stars to see Adam spin on one heel, slam Warren in the chest with a reverse elbow. The blue man loses his grip and the freed werewolf keeps turning, snaps a front kick into Warren's solar plexus, rides the momentum into a back flip kick to the chin. It hits hard enough to knock him off his feet. Adam comes back to his own, breathing hard, arms up, claws at the ready. Maybe he isn't such a virgin after all.
Warren touches his fingers to his split lip, licks the blood away, looks up. His smile has a sinister, manic air.
"Oh, shit," mutters Adam.
"Is that really the best you can do?" asks Warren, getting back to his feet. "Can't you try just a little bit harder?"
Eyes wide, Adam backs away, moving towards me as I fumble my way through my pockets.
"Jayna, if you have something that can really hurt this guy, now would be good." Another of those blasted shadow tentacles lash out, tears a rather large hole in the wall behind us.
There goes Zan's deposit, I think stupidly. Somehow I don't think he gives a shit, wherever he is.
"Aaaaanytime now," whines Adam, slashing futilely at shadows whipping around him.
I pull out the first thing I find -- a small crystal vial, contents glowing -- and throw it the same motion. It tumbles end over end, flashing, and somehow skips, jumps from in front to behind Warren without seeming to pass through intervening space. "You missed," says Warren.
Glass tinkles; smoke rises from wall as the contents of the vial begin to eat it away.
"Try again. Please. I like--"
A moan interrupts him, and we all look to see Adrienne has regained her feet. She's staggering, movements jerky, spastic gestures. Shadows move under her flesh, skin creeping.
Broke her grasp, I note. She's losing possession of the body-- I start frantically searching my pockets. If she distracts him for long enough...
"Adrienne," says Warren with something like concern and flicks a sudden angry glare at Adam who abruptly ceases moving.
"I can't say here, lover," she says sadly, and leans into him, purrs. "You'll have to kill them both. You can do that, can't you? For me?"
"I don't want to leave you."
"You have to kill the bastard dog, Warren," coaxes Adrienne, her voice fading as if, somehow, she was moving away from us; through my glasses I see thin black smoke rise from the body, it's shape changing -- reverting. "He might be strong enough to protect the Az bitch." Ah, they joys of dealing with psychos. I tear her a new one and she's worried about Adam.
Then she's gone and Warren's suddenly growling "AzbitchmustdieAzbitchmustdieAzbitchmustdie!!!" turning towards Adam, features twisted by inhuman rage. Rage or insanity, it’s all the same with him.
Adam squeaks, tumbling backwards as Warren charges, shadows gathering up behind him, and finally, finally my fingers close on the pearl handle and I extract the pistol, checking that the chambers are loaded as I raise it, flicking off the safety, sliding unconsciously into the isosceles stance. Light glints off the barrel, splinters against the symbols for infinity and silver engraved on it.
The first shot takes him in the shoulder, the second misses as the momentum of the first knocks him off balance and spins him around to face me. The noise is too loud in the apartment, this needs to end now, quickly, I don’t, really don’t, want to be here when the police arrive especially since I'm not too clear on just where here is. Adam yelps as the noise hammers over-sensitive ears and Warren’s attack goes harmlessly over his head.
Warren accesses me with eyes that now hold a hint of pain, and his shadows sneak across the floor in multiple directions. “Stop it, or I’ll…” I’m cut off by a sound from behind me, the girl that Adrianne had possessed has finally woken. I can’t take my eyes off of Warren long enough to check on her, but I hope she has the sense to run.
“Adam, check on the girl.” Even as I say this I can hear Adam growling low in his throat, and in front of me, Warren has regained his wicked smile. Shit, now what? Then I notice the sparkling along the walls, trying to look out of the corner of my eye and keep the gun trained on Warren at the same time. Oh shit, another portal…
The black shadow construct slides open, shredding reality and I’m hit from the side by a gray blur, moving fast enough to knock me off my feet, claws scraping my side. My finger squeezes the trigger instinctively, the shot going wild, and I remember why it is I hate guns. Adrianne pins me to the floor, arms spread-eagle, the gun now out of my hand and across the floor, sliding too far to be any good to me. She weighs more than she should for such a small form. Why? I know I’m stronger than she is but this position gives me no leverage. The shallow gashes in my side burn like acid and I feel the warmth of my blood slipping down my side. It’s not very deep, but it hurts more than it should. Why, I wonder, but not for too long.
"Well... What do you think of my new suit, lover?" She asks, looking up to Warren, who is sealing the wound in his shoulder with shadow-stuff.
“It’s lovely.”
Adam is guarding the girl, who has frozen. So much for her running. Blessedly, my glasses are still on, perched precariously on the end of my nose, and I know I don’t want to look but I have to, my instincts are screaming for me not to but I must, and I peer up at Adrianne through them.
“Been in this position before, have we?” She says more but it doesn’t register in my shock-numbed brain. It’s Aquarius. She’s using Zan’s body. Zan’s corpse, week-dead, rotting, purple, bloated, naked, and I’m shaking my head back and forth. There is nothing on the face of any world that would make me want Zan to touch me ever again, but this is way beyond the pale.
Get off of me…get off of me… “ADAM!”
He’s busy trying to protect the girl. “ADAM!” I’m going to vomit and choke to death in this position. Adrianne/Aquarius is running her/his tongue up my cheek, in the cup of my ear. My side throbs, and my hands feel numb. I can’t be bleeding that much, it must be some sort of poison from the rotting corpse that my body is working overtime to fight.
There’s a thud, scream and yelp at the same time, but I can’t look, my eyes still glued to the spectacle pinning me to the floor. She/he is watching whatever’s going on past us, and I can’t see it, but judging from the sounds it can’t be good. There’s another crash that I can feel through the floor, and the growling stops, replaced by screaming, and Adam’s voice. "Leave her alone you bastard!"
Warren’s voice cuts through the screams. "You can either watch and enjoy my ritual, or you will be beaten down like the dog you are!" I can hear blows landing, and Adrianne/Aqua’s grin widens, so it must be Adam being used as a punching bag.
There’s another crash and the tinkling of broken glass, the sudden burst of fresh, moist air telling me that the window is history. The sudden silence in the room also tells me that the girl is history as well. Adam’s growling intensifies as he takes what is probably the beating of a lifetime, and I swear that there’s a bulge pressing against me from above. That urge to vomit comes back with a vengeance. I don't care what a bastard he was in life, the dead shouldn't be desecrated like this. These two are going to die, no matter what I have to do to accomplish it.
“When he’s done with the puppy, it’s your turn.” They whisper in my ear, and I redouble my efforts to escape, making the bitch smile even more. “Give it up, I’m stronger than I look. Plus you’re suffering from a little psionic poisoning, courtesy of these.” She holds up one hand and again I see her phantom claws. Those ‘phantom’ claws have some bite to them, I’ll have to remember that, if I live.
Adrianne looks away from me, back towards Warren and his furry punching bag. “I think he’s about had it, lover. Let’s get to the real fun.” She squeezes my wrists painfully to emphasize the point.
“Agreed.” Warren replies, and I see a blur of black shadows and gray fur pass overhead, and the whole thing slams painfully into, and I assume through, the already shattered window.
Day Five (IV)
Adam felt himself thrown, glass cutting, then falling, finally free of the unbreakable shadow-stuff. He twisted, managing to sink his claws into the side of the building, digging grooves into the bricks to slow himself down. Even so, the impact with the ground was bone-jarring. Brushing himself off, he mentally berated himself. Dammit, I can't do this by myself!
~Dann nicht.~ Adam froze.
~ Es ist Raserei. Ich kann Ihnen helfen, aber, nur wenn Sie wünschen mich... ~
Yes, I do! I can’t even faze him under my strength alone…Please… Raserei… Can you help me out?
Adam’s fur started to lengthen, and lighten, until it was the color of gold. He felt himself change… both physically and mentally. He looked down, seeing his reflection in the broken glass scattered around the alleyway.
~ Ich schaue im Gold so gut.~
He looked up towards the broken window above him.
~Jetzt zurück zu Arbeit.~
*****
Warren is standing over me, and I can feel the cold shadows grasping my arms, legs. Is this how Ciela felt? Dammit, this is NOT going to happen! I twist in his…her grasp but the outcome is the same as before.
There’s a sound, like rapid-fire hail on a slate roof, and the weight from my chest is gone, pulled away in an instant, the shadows dissipating in a flurry of sounds and fury. The sounds being the deep-throated growling of an enraged werewolf, and the savage cursing of one pissed off ex-Azangel. I get to my feet unsteadily as the gold furred gold furred? Adam attacks both Adrianne and Warren simultaneously, using his suddenly bulkier frame to his advantage, keeping both of them off-balance and moving away from me.
He won’t be able to keep it up for long, and I fish the gun out from under the couch where it landed.
“Sie sollten mein Weibchen nie berührt haben!”
‘His bitch???’ When did Adam start speaking German?
He’s keeping them busy for the moment, so I use their distraction with the furry flurry to my advantage, fishing a tube out of my belt and breaking it open, smearing the contents on the wound in my side. It thickens quickly, sealing the claw-marks. A pity it can’t clear the fuzz out of my head as well.
Adam seems to have the situation well in hand…er, claw, at least for the moment, but I’m not willing to take a chance that these two will escape. I don’t know if I can shoot Adrianne while she’s housed in that body, but I know damn good and well I can shoot Warren. I bring the gun up, aim, and shout, hoping the raging werewolf is paying attention “Adam, erhalten UNTEN!”
He dodges to the side good boy! and I fire, silver bullets tearing widening holes in Warren’s hastily erected shields. The holes spread like ripples in a pond, and I continue to fire as the blue-skinned bastard erects shield after shield. He’s managing to stop them before they get to him, somehow, because I don’t hear them impact the wall, and they definitely aren’t hitting him. I’m starting to get frustrated.
“Your little toy has to run out of bullets sometime, bitch.” Warren taunts, trying to sound menacing while cowering behind his power. “When you do…”
That’s twice today I’ve been called a bitch. I’d be offended if it weren’t true. I grin towards the voice, not caring if he can see me or not. “Not this gun. A good friend of mine made sure of it.”
I keep firing, but I’m still not hitting either of them. Dammit. Adam has moved to my side, clawed hands clamped over his ears. “Jayna, we gotta go.”
Not until this bastard is dead!” I’m so angry that I’m seeing red. The gun jumps in my hand.
“He raped Ciela!” Why did I tell him that? I’m so angry I can’t help it. I fire again.
“He tried to rape me!” The gun is warm in my hands, and smooth, seductive.
“He’s an abomination!” I continue to fire, my finger moving automatically to pull the trigger now, no thought involved. I realize I’m seeing red again, and now blue. Blue? Oh shit.
“The police?”
“Yeah, the police.” Adam repeats. “And you’re wasting ammunition; you’re shooting into the backside of a portal. They’re gone, unless you want to follow…”
I look more closely and he’s right, they left the portal open to catch the bullets, and I was so busy playing ‘dirty Harriet’ I never even noticed. Dammit. I’m not insane enough to follow them onto their home turf, although the open portal is probably meant to be as much of an invitation as it was protection.
There’s a sudden pounding that’s not in my head, the door is shaking in its frame.
Adam hands me my coat even as he shoulders the bag with his clothes in it. “We can go out the window. I blocked the door, but we need to hurry. I’ll carry you down.”
I take my coat and head to the window. The rain is still pouring, but I don’t see any police on the street, or in the cruisers, waiting for us, they must all be inside. No one jumps from a fourth-floor window, after all. “That’s ok, I got it.” I smirk, stepping out the window and landing below, the concrete cracking into intricate spiderwebs.
“Oh-kay” Adam mutters from above me, almost drowned out by the rain. He launches himself across the alleyway to the building across, and slides down to the ground, tearing rents in the masonry with his claws.
“Now, let’s see if we can get back to our portal home without running into the police, shall we?”
“Right, no problem.”
***
We spend the next twenty minutes or so winding our way back to the proper alleyway. Again, I’m glad for the driving rain. We may be soaked to the skin, but at least we haven’t been shot at or arrested.
We step through the portal, Adam still furry and looking like a drowned rat, and he sighs loudly at the sight of ‘home’. At least on this end, it’s stopped raining. He steps away from me and shakes, water spiking out everywhere. Now he looks less like a drowned rat, and more like himself. But not by much. I want to go home, take a long, hot bath, and try to relax. Unfortunately, there’s one last thing to take care of.
“Adam.” I say, moving closer to the werewolf. “There’s one more favor I need to ask of you, and then, I swear, we’re even, no strings left attached.”
He eyes me warily, and I can’t blame him. I really didn’t expect to run into Warren, and if I had, I would have brought someone, anyone else with me.
“It’s not anything like this one, is it?”
“No, but it’s related to this.”
“Um, okay…” he replies, warily.
“Don’t tell anyone about this. Not Yvette, not Mike, especially not Ciela.” I fix him with my best don’t make me kick your ass glare. “Understand me?”
“Yeah, keep it quiet, got it. But why?”
“Because if you don’t keep it quiet, I might have to track you down and give you a silver bullet enema.”
“Uh, right. You got it!” He answers me, rather quickly. “Would you really do that?!?”
“Don’t try me. And don’t ever call me ‘your bitch’ again.”
“You caught that? Sorry, it’s a male thing.”
“Right. So are you gonna stand there all day, or are we going to go home in this lifetime?”
“Oh, yeah.” He grabs the bag from the ground and pulls his clothes back out. “Turn around?”
I sigh. “Sure thing.”
***
By the time I get back to the shop, Mike is gone and Ciela is apparently asleep, thank the gods. Stripping off my sodden clothes, I throw them in the wash and make my way to the bathroom for a well-deserved soak. I make a mental note to myself to have Stephen or Jason come by and upgrade the shop’s wards.
Just in case.
Chapter 15
Day 6
What a crappy day. I need to burn off some of this pent-up energy or I'm going to explode. Why is it people always think grief breeds lethargy and depression? It just makes me angry, at least this time it has. I pull on a ribbed-knit charcoal gray turtleneck and pull my hair back into a ponytail. I catch sight of myself in the mirror as I walk to the closet. Not bad I think to myself. With legs that these I could be a model. I haven't let myself go like so many of my kind tend to do…
…I am not going there. My looks had nothing to do with his infidelity. That was his problem, not mine.
I open the closet door and instinctively reach for my second-story gear. Just the thing to wear when I don't want to be bothered. I pull on the leather pants with the belt still in them, tuck in the sweater, zip, and click. I step into the knee-high boots with the thick treaded soles, the ones that add about three inches to my height. He used to call them shit-kickers.
…I have got to get him out of my mind. He was only a mortal after all, and more flawed than most. I don't care if he did resemble Agamemnon. No, I should care. That was the one red flag I shouldn't have ignored. There was more to them both than a chance physical resemblance. Neither of them could keep it in their pants, and it brought both of them down.
I need some serious physical activity to make my mind shut down for a while. I take the leather jacket off of the hanger and slip it over my shoulders. I look a jogger from hell dressed this way. I decide against taking a gun. I don't think I'll need it. Any mugger who approaches me tonight would have to be insane.
I crack open the door to my bedroom and listen. Az and Michael are still in the parlor talking. I can slip out the back way and they will never know I'm gone. All the better, I decide. I would much rather tell them, tell her, about Zan's demise when it's not so fresh. I need to get myself under control before I start trying to explain what has happened to anybody else.
I decide to take the bulk of my run in the street's main park. I can get there in under ten minutes, sticking to the alleys, if I keep a good pace. It's almost funny how different J Street looks after dark when you stay off of the main drag. It takes on an almost ancient, third-world quality. I scare the bravado out of more than a few dogs and frighten off a dope deal or two before I enter the park proper. All in all, the place is pretty quiet. I got lucky. There aren't any campaign rallies or festivals going on this week, just a few drunks, vagrants, and assorted insomniacs.
I do my best to stay away from the more well-lit areas. With my glasses on I have no trouble avoiding anything that I might trip over in the darkness. I fall into the rhythm of running and as my speed increases my mood starts to lighten. I let my mind go blank and my body run on auto-pilot. It's a cleansing experience that I've been too long without. Every so often an immortal has to unburden or go mad. I'm not there yet, but it never hurts.
I slam into something that shouldn't be there while going full-speed. It knocks the wind out of me and throws me to the ground. Damn, it hurts like hell, but nothing is broken. That shouldn't have happened. My glasses have never failed me before. They better not be going bad on me now, not after what I had to pay for them.
It comes to me that kneeling here in the dirt may not be the wisest course of action. What if Warren has decided to come after me now too? Not possible. Anything that psycho would throw at me would have glowed like a bloody beacon, if the glasses are still working. I raise my hand to my temple and find that they must have been knocked off my face from the impact. What great timing, they decide to abandon me on a moonless night in the underbrush. Kick me in the shins and call me Frodo.
Compromised position or not, I start feeling around me in an attempt to find them. "Are you looking for these, Miss Alexander?" A gnarled hand appears before my face holding my glasses. I don't have to follow the arm back to the body it's attached to. I know that voice, and now I know what it was I ran into and why I didn't see it in time to stop myself. Damn, and damn! Any way you cut it this is just not my day. I take my glasses from his hand and place them back on my face. What little of him that I can see in this position is bathed in the familiar glow I always see when in the presence of a vampire.
"Kelegar, piss off. I'm not in the mood." I stand upright, brushing the dirt and other bits off of my knees and hands. "Just leave me alone, will you please? I don't think I can deal with you and your none too thinly veiled threats right now." In this light it's hard to tell whether that look on his face is bewilderment or amusement. I had always thought his natural expression was sour.
"I am afraid that will not be possible." He returned to his more normal visage, becoming the Kelegar I was becoming used to. "The Master wishes to speak with you tonight."
"I really couldn't give a rat's ass less what your master wishes." I spin on my heel and start walking away from him, hoping against all hope that he will just let this slide this one time. Of course my lack of luck is holding. He appears in front of me, blocking my way.
"This is not a request." It never is. I hadn't noticed before but his vaguely Eastern European accent gets more pronounced when he gets angry, and I can tell he's getting there.
"Look, Kelegar," I put my hands on my hips, towering over him, as if that would intimidate this very formidable vampire. I know it won't work, but what the hell, I've come this far. "I've had one of the top three worst days of my entire life. Cut me a break." I could tell by his expression that compassion wasn't his strong suit tonight, if ever. Oh hell, it was worth the try.
"I can compel you to come with me if you don't come willingly." He said it coldly, without any trace of emotion. I'm impressed. He's trying to make it sound like less than the threat it actually is. I'm at least as strong-willed as the next person. I'm certain that I could stare down a new vampire. I could probably hold my own against a centarian in one of these kinds of confrontations, but I do not want to go mind to mind against Kelegar. A loss in a duel like that could do permanent damage to the loser's psyche. I'm not willing to bet my clarity and sanity on the minute chance that I might win.
"By all means then, be the cherry on top of my shit sundae of a day." That was one of Zan's expressions. He's not going to be so easy to purge from my mind as I had hoped. I follow Kelegar in silence. I have no arguments that will sway him and he has no pity.
Thankfully the ride is short. Not that I'm paying that much attention, but it appears that speed limits do not apply to J Street's Master vampire's limo. The dead travel fast indeed. The car comes to a smooth stop in front of the house where I had met Ravenstrom previously. Before I could adjust myself in the seat enough to open the door Kelegar was out of the car and had it open for me. Knowing as much about vampires as I do doesn't help. That preternatural speed of theirs still gives me the creeps. I can tell by the smirk on his face that he knows it too. I get out of the car and take off my glasses and put them in one of the inside pockets of my jacket. They will be more trouble than they are worth where I'm going.
Once inside the house it's obvious to me even without my glasses that something has changed here. The décor is exactly as I remember it but the place feels different, lighter. We move through the foyer down a spacious hall to the door of what Kelegar refers to as the reception room. Zan used to call it the throne room. He opens the door without knocking.
"Go right in. You are expected." He lets me pass then closes the door behind me. Oh goody, I get to face the master alone.
Oddly enough I find the room empty. I expected to find the old coot in his wheelchair close to the fire as he was the last time. I hear the faint call of a night bird in the distance and notice that the French doors on the wall to my right are open. A slight breeze stirs the curtains framing the opening as an extremely striking, young, red-haired fellow enters through them.
The master must have a new servant, I think to myself, enjoying this temporary feast for the eyes. He's wearing high, soft boots over skin-tight black pants, and a billowy poet's shirt open three-fourths of the way to his waist. His taste is improving...
It would be better for me not to get caught standing here drooling over this vampire bait. I clear my throat and open my mouth to speak. He turns toward me with all the grace of a cat pulling an I knew you were there all along move, and smiles at me. I get one of those twinges that a woman gets every so often. The kind that reminds us that we're mammalian and not nearly as civilized I'd we'd like to believe. He has the kind of teeth a Madison Avenue toothpaste salesman would die for and the most shockingly green eyes I've ever seen.
"I'm here to see Mr. Ravenstrom." I manage to say. He glides over to me. I watch the muscles rippling in his chest as he moves. He stops mere inches away from me and reaches for my hand. This young man is going to be a dangerous addition to Ravenstrom's staff.
"I know Miss Alexander, or may I call you Alexandra?" His voice is much deeper, richer than I expected with a hint of an accent. He takes my hand in his and raises it to his lips, and I recoil as though touched by a live wire. The touch of his hand is firm and strong, his kiss not in the least disrespectful or lascivious, but his touch is cold. Cold and dead. This beautiful man is a vampire. If I had been wearing my glasses I would have known instantly, but the experience of wearing them in this house the last time was so draining that I had decided to do without them this time. Now I wished that I hadn't.
He pretended not to notice my reaction and kept on smiling at me. "I am afraid that I have you at a disadvantage. I remember you, but you obviously do not remember me." I'm certain I would remember meeting this man before even if it had been a thousand years ago. He takes a few steps back and bows low. "Let me reintroduce myself. I am Daral Ravenstrom." He pronounces the name dar – all with the accent on the second syllable. I'll have to look up the spelling later. I do not want to believe this, but somehow something inside of me tells me it's true. I had never imagined that such a transformation was possible. I knew that vampires could go to ground, as they call it, and return much improved and stronger than before. This was nothing short of miraculous. If he could accomplish this than it was no wonder he ruled the vampires of J Street.
I don't care how pretty or powerful he is. He's still a vampire. I don't work for vampires. He walks away from me and begins to play idly with an object on a table. It is a series of balls, pendulums really, all strung together. You pull one back and let it go. The one farthest away from it swings out then back, and the first ones swings out again. I don't know what it's called. "Your time is almost up to find Aquarius." He lets that hang in the air between us.
"I found him. He's dead." Ravenstrom looks genuinely surprised. "Even if you or any of yours put the bite on him you won't be able to raise him." I knew he wasn't tainted by them in that way, but couldn't resist getting the dig in.
"Oh, I assure you he was simply work-for-hire." He doesn't look up from the table as he speaks, "I found his abilities and his wonderful sense of situational ethics quite useful."
"I'm sure you did." Now I'm getting angry. "I'm sure he was very easy for you to exploit." He looks up at me and I swear there is sorrow in his eyes.
"I am not a monster..." I throw back my head and laugh a bit hysterically.
"I always that vampire was one of the definitions of monster, right up there with zombie and ghoul." I'm in no mood to be kind. Not here. Not tonight.
"Because I am no longer human? If that is your definition of a monster then how do you justify your continued existence?"
Score one point for the home team. "For starters I don't kill to live." It's a flawed argument and I know it. Only a very sloppy vampire kills its prey. "I haven't killed anybody who didn't desperately need it in centuries."
"Neither do I, nor have I. I also stay within the confines of the law whenever possible. Can you say the same?"
"Your laws or theirs?" Vampires have their own set of rules. They violate them at great peril, but they aren't bound by human laws.
"And there lies the rub for both of us. It will always be them and us no matter how hard we try to delude ourselves otherwise." He slips a folded piece of paper from under the base of the toy he's been playing with. "I was hoping that we could become friends, but I see that it is not possible for the time being." Before I can respond he places the bit of paper in my hand.
"What's this?" I ask as I'm unfolding it. In a fine hand is written the description of and directions to the location of an artifact that I've been hunting for ages.
"Consider it payment in full and in advance for your assistance." He smiles at me again this time with an evil twinkle in his eyes.
"I don't work for vampires." I say a bit too emphatically.
"Oh, but you will. You see, I understand your ethics too." He had me. The bastard had me. There was no way that I could ignore this information and it was too valuable to just take it and forget where and how I had learned about it. I would hate every minute of it, but I would help him. May the Gods forgive me.
"How did you know about this?" I couldn't remember ever sharing that I was searching for this with anyone.
"I have my sources..."
