by Lily Luchesi
The memory wasn't Danny’s, it was the one Leander Price had made him see years ago, of how Vincent went from vampire hunter to the husband of the last living descendant of the vampire Empress, Livia.
Danny let Daniel see how Veronica had trapped Vincent, had the hunter in her clutches, and then let him live out of love.
“This is weird,” Daniel said, but now his voice was coming from inside Danny’s mind. “Seeing Vincent as a good guy.”
“Isn’t it, though? But he was always...violent,” Danny replied. “Leander, you remember him from my stories, corrupted him way back when he was still human. When he became a vampire, that anger and darkness within him escalated into madness. Last we saw Vincent, he was being tortured in Hell.”
Danny closed the memory then, as Vincent was kissing Veronica, and both men were thrown back into the present. He looked over at his shocked great-grandson and said, “You did it.”
And Daniel gave a wide, genuine smile and said, “Thanks to you, Pops.” He stood up and held his hand out to Danny. “I’m sorry I’m an ass sometimes.”
Danny took his hand and laughed. “Don’t worry. At least you know now where you get it from... There’s a company holiday party tonight at Crowley’s Pub. It starts in an hour. Tell the witch to go easy on you so you can come.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
* * *
“Whoa, are you trying to get Danny to forgive you or give him heart failure?” Sean asked Angelica when she came out of the dressing room where they kept clothes for undercover missions. She’d raided it for an outfit for the holiday party at Crowley’s. It was a low key bar, but holiday parties were supposed to be a little fancy. If Sean’s reaction was anything to go by, she’d picked the right outfit.
A mix of classy and casual, she wore black liquid leggings, black high-heeled boots with red laces, a black miniskirt with red tulle at the hem, and a black silk steel-boned corset under a black shawl trimmed with red lace. Every curve was shown off and accentuated, and her porcelain skin and dark hair set off the red in her cape.
“Thank you, but I’m not looking for forgiveness, merely realization that we were both in the wrong this time,” she replied. “I will not let that fucking skin changer come between us. I waited seventy years for that man, and before that I waited eighty-five. I won’t have her screwing our lives up anymore.”
“Attagirl,” Sean said, shrugging on a leather jacket over his t-shirt.
Angelica had only seen him dressed up once, and that was at his wedding to his late wife, Lyn. She thought that he was the only person who could make jeans and a leather coat look fancier than they were.
“Shall we?”
She took his arm and they walked to the garage of the PID building. Angelica stopped stock-still and cried, “Drac!”
She broke away from Sean and dashed to the perfectly preserved classic black Lamborghini she’d owned since twenty-ten. She hadn’t needed the car since twenty-seventeen, and had put it in a storage unit. Technically she didn’t need a car at all, but she loved them and drove them anyway. She was certain that it had taken a lot of work and money to fix up a car a century old.
“Thank you!” she told Sean, popping the hood to be sure that everything was in working order.
“Don’t thank me. That was the Emperor’s doing,” Sean replied. “He paid for it all, I just got it here since it was daytime.” He made a face, showing exactly what he thought of Danny’s ‘gift’. “I hate to admit it, but the guy does love you.”
On the steering wheel was a red plastic bow, with mistletoe attached. A note in Danny’s handwriting simply read, “Forgiven?” Under any other circumstances, Angelica would have thought that this was ridiculous and cheesy, but right then her black little heart was melting.
“Come on, let’s go, before I vomit at the look on your face,” Sean said. “Some tough vampire you are, Cross.”
“It’s Mancini and shut up.”
They drove down Michigan Avenue with the windows down as snow began to fall, rock n’ roll blasting from the Lambo’s speakers. It was perfection, it was one of the little human moments everyone should live for, whether they were human or not.
The world was dangerous, dirty, dark, and going to Hell in a handbasket, but there was still some beauty left in it that needed to be savored.
Crowley’s Pub hadn’t changed in centuries. It was still a shack, basically, catering to paranormals and brave humans. They served food, drink, blood, and fresh organs as requested, always with a smile (occasionally that smile was fanged). It had wood-paneled walls, covered with signs: Cubs, Blackhawks, Bears, Old Style beer, and more that you’d find in any bar on the North Side. There was a small stage for karaoke, but mostly it was just music blasting from the speakers, usually rock and roll.
Today the music was holiday themed, which Angelica didn’t always enjoy. She and Sean walked in to ‘Jingle Bell Rock’. Garland hung on the walls, and decorations were all-inclusive: Christmas, Hanukkah, Ramadan, Kwanzaa, and the Winter Solstice. Most of the PID employees were pagans/Wiccan, but they had a good sprinkling of many religions, and Angelica always made sure that no one was left out for the holidays.
The place was packed with PID employees, and Angelica realized that she knew so little about her company now. She missed being able to greet most of her employees by name and inquire about their lives. Now they were barely familiar faces, and she didn’t like that at all. She watched Sean interact with them how she used to, and it broke her heart. She missed being the leader, she had to admit it.
Winding her way through the crowd, she needed to find Danny. As she moved toward the bar, she felt a hand on her arm.
Daniel. She’d avoided seeing him since he signed his contract, but in the spirit of the season, she felt a bit more benevolent toward him. He was Danny’s family, and that made him hers, too, whether she liked it or not.
“Hi, Daniel. Happy Christmas,” she said.
“Hi...um, what do I call you?” he asked. “Empress? Miss Cross? Mrs. Mancini?”
“Angelica is fine. I’m glad to see you here,” she said, actually meaning it. Befriending the kid would be the next step to accepting Danny’s human past, and look toward the future, too.
He smiled and said, “If you’re looking for Pops, he’s three people deep, one person over to your left. And I bet he’ll be glad to see you.” He winked. “Merry Christmas, Angelica.”
She turned to where he’d said and sure enough, there he was, talking with Hermes and Sean. He seemed to have made peace with the Greek god, and she was glad that her friend hadn’t left town as he had said he would.
She gripped the mistletoe she’d taken from Danny’s note and stalked toward him. The great thing about being naturally imposing and having a vampire’s thrall is that people moved for you to pass, even in a crowded room like this, without you even trying.
She reached her husband and grabbed his collar, turning him to face her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her friends smirking at them.
Danny jumped, startled at being manhandled, and his eyes flashed red before he saw that it was her.
“Angie, I —”
“Shut. Up,” she said, reaching up with the mistletoe. She held it over his head as she pressed her lips to his, still holding him in a death grip. She closed her eyes as his arms came around her and he kissed back, opening her lips with his.
Danny didn’t leave room for even a slip of paper between them as he gripped her as tight as he could without breaking her corset. She dropped the mistletoe as she ran her fingers through his curls, drinking him in.
Angelica pulled away slightly, whispering, “I love you,” against his lips before he claimed hers again in another soul-reaching kiss.
They both forgot that there was a crowd around them, that they were in public. All they knew was that they still had each other, and that was all that mattered.
* * *
“Scarlette St. James,” Dakota said, standing before
the group of about twenty vampires that had gathered before her. “I am sure many of you remember her.”
A witch with long eggplant-colored hair that contrasted with her fair skin nodded and spoke before the others. “You think? She was supposed to be our leader, and then she just vanished. So did you, that very same night. For a while, I thought you killed her.”
“I know, but believe me, I never would have hurt Scarlette,” Dakota replied. “You know that, Jade.”
“If you say so,” Jade replied.
Dakota was sure that wasn’t her real name, but let it go. It didn’t matter what she called herself, as long as she remained loyal.
“Well, Jade, you might be glad to know that Scarlette didn’t vanish. She was murdered.” Dakota’s eyes roamed over every vampire there. “For challenging the one and only Angelica Cross.” Seeing their shock, she continued, “Scarlette never broke a single law; she never killed humans or put them under thrall or used them as familiars. All she did was question the authority of that trumped up little dictator. And for that, Angelica killed her.”
“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” a vampire man called from the back of the group.
Dakota spread her hands apart and asked, “What reason have I to lie? I was there, in the club. I heard it happen through the walls. Angelica is nothing but a monster, wanting to wield all the power and for other paranormals to have none. And I believe it is time to turn the tables on her. The question is...are you with me?”
Jade looked behind her to see what the others thought and then turned back to Dakota. “Yeah, we’re with you. For Scarlette, and for everyone else that bitch has silenced.”
Dakota smiled, her stolen visage brightening visibly. “It’s time that the Empress’ reign has ended. We will dismantle her team of acolytes...one by one.”
Chapter Nine
Half an hour before sunrise later that night — or, rather, early that morning — Angelica was nestled comfortably in Danny’s arms, her head against his heart. It was, and always had been, her favorite place.
Safe and warm in their bed, she could pretend all was right with the world, that there wasn’t a crazy skin changer trying to kill her whole company, that she had everything under control. Here it was like being in a little bubble of bliss, and she never wanted to leave.
“Do you know what the worst part about being a vampire is?” Danny said quietly, his hand stroking her long black hair.
“Hmm?”
“Not being able to hold you while we sleep.”
She chuckled, nuzzling his skin with her nose. “I wish all our problems could be so small.”
“You and me both,” he replied. “Oh, here’s a new one for you.”
Angelica groaned, leaning up on her elbow to look into Danny’s eyes. “Already? Can’t leave me in the post-coital bliss for a little bit longer?”
He rolled his eyes. “Remember when we were with Augustus and I touched your hand, letting me see a vision of what happened to Helena?”
She nodded, not sure where he was going with this.
“We surmised that I could see that vision because I was still human, but with Emperor blood in me, right?”
Again, she nodded.
“I was training Daniel yesterday and...he could see into my mind. He said he can’t see any other vampire’s mind but mine. I think that’s because —”
“He’s got royal vampire blood in him, too,” Angelica finished. “I never even thought of that. Which means I won’t be touching him without my walls up if I can help it.”
“Should we tell him?” Danny asked.
“I think you should, yeah. It’s only right. We learned that keeping secrets only leads to bullshit long ago,” she replied. “We’ll tell him together, after combat training tomorrow.”
Danny nodded and she placed a kiss on his lips before going to take a shower. The sun was getting ready to pierce the horizon, sending people like them into hiding until it set again.
* * *
Hermes wasn’t a fan of staying still. The Greek god of speed, as well as god of thieves and tricksters, he liked action, movement, excitement. He needed to see Angelica, having found out something that could lead her to the capture of the skin changer that had been plaguing her, or at least give her some insight as to why the PID was being attacked. But she wouldn’t be awake for three more hours, and he was bored. And a bored god was not a good thing to have around.
Initially he’d wanted to go back to the Underworld and annoy Hecate, who was still in incorporeal form and furious thanks to Angelica. But yet he’d still stayed, just in case his part wasn’t done, and he’d been right. But he still had nothing immediate to do, resulting in his current state of boredom.
Chicago was the city he’d stayed in the longest, for a decade back in the early twenty-first century, and now again for the past year. The city had great energy for someone like him. It never rested, there was always something going on.
Hermes had lived for time unimaginable, but had never once gotten bored with humans. The world was always evolving, and he loved to move along with it. The other gods didn't agree with his views on how much fun humanity was, especially when you had trickster tendencies, but that was okay. He had had a few too many lovers in the Underworld, he liked being alone now, up here on Earth. Some called him reckless, and maybe he was, but he had fun, unlike some other immortal sticks in the mud (looking at you, Zeus).
The cold December sun shined down on him as he strolled past a cafe on Michigan Avenue, admiring the lights, which would be bright and enticing once night fell upon the city. While he was looking, he must have gotten distracted because the next thing he knew he was sprawled on the cold, hard ground, a woman on the ground next to him.
“Shit, I’m so sorry!” Hermes said. He hopped to his feet and he held his hand out to the woman, who was actually a young girl, maybe in her early twenties. She was tall and thin, with fair skin and hair so dark it looked eggplant. Suddenly, he wasn’t so bored anymore. “You’re not hurt, are you?”
Slowly, she raked her eyes over his black curls, dark eyes, and designer clothes. “No, I’m all right,” she said. “I kind of barreled into you. I should be apologizing.”
“Don’t. Maybe it was The Fates that wanted us to meet,” he said, forgetting that not everyone knew off the top of their head who the Moirai actually were.
“You know The Fates?” the girl asked, smirking. “This is my lucky day.” She held her other hand out and said, “My name’s Jade, practitioner of all things magical. Yours?”
“Xavier,” he replied, using his favorite mortal name. “Would you be interested in having a coffee with me, Jade?”
Her eyes brightened. “You’re not shy, are you?”
He shook his head. “Not a bit. You’re exactly the kind of excitement I was looking for.”
“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be that and much more,” Jade teased. She laced her arm in his and smiled up at him. “There’s a little place witches frequent. Most normal humans don’t know about it, but you’re not normal, are you?”
“Good guess,” Hermes replied, following her down a side street packed with little mom and pop shops, from newsstands to cafes to flower shops. The further in they got, the more arcane the shops became. Crystal stores, palm readers, potion shops...it was a regular Diagon Alley. He was getting an uneasy feeling in his stomach, but it wasn’t because of the magic stores or abundance of magicians. It was because of Jade.
For a moment, he’d allowed his lower head to think for the one on his shoulders, acting impulsively as was his wont, and now he had a bad feeling he was going to pay for it. Being bored, bumping into her like that, her quick agreeance to go with him… No modern-day woman agreed to go out with someone she’d just knocked over on Michigan Avenue without some reluctance.
His former flame, Hecate, was the goddess of witchcraft, and he had been known to dabble in magic himself for his powers, so he was comfortable around magicians. To be this uneas
y around his people was unusual for him. He needed to figure out how to escape without giving away who he was. The ex-lover of Hecate probably wouldn’t be very welcome there.
The small cafe had no name or sign he could see, and seemed to be deserted, despite every other shop being fairly crowded. Another warning bell rang in his head, but he figured he could get out by saying he needed to pee and then using his limited speed to get the Hell out of there.
The moment the door closed behind them, he heard a lock click and dread settled in his heart. He had not planned on this, but oh well. It was his fault for wishing for excitement.
“Lady, I don’t know what you want with me, but you’ve messed with the wrong dude,” he said. “Nobody tricks a trickster.”
Jade turned to him, eyebrow arched. “Oh really? So you’re not Hermes, Greek god and lackey of Angelica Cross?”
“I’m nobody’s lackey,” he replied. “You’re her? The skin changer?”
“Alas, no. I’m just a common witch who believes in what the skin changer does: that the Empress needs to be knocked down a few pegs. Getting at her employees is just the beginning. She’s not going to know what hit her before she’s begging for mercy herself.”
Hermes laughed. “You really don’t know Angie that well if you think anything you do will make her beg you or the psycho you work for, for a breath mint, let alone mercy.”
Jade held a hand out and purple magic began to form in her palm.
Hermes sighed. “You know, I haven’t needed Caduceus for a long ass time....Éla!” His left sleeve rolled up to reveal his tattoo of his beloved wand, protected by two serpents. At his command, the wand vanished, only to reappear, solid, in his hand. He waved it and blocked the ball of magical energy Jade sent at him.
Jade didn’t look too put out, however, and that unnerved him.
“Caduceus, the staff that wakes the sleeper and puts to sleep the wakened,” she said. “Eases the dying and brings the dead to life.”
