Dark Heir

by Faith Hunter

  The two bodies I had seen from the doorway were lying on the clay flooring, positioned about ten feet out from the wall, one male, one female, both vamps, lying on their sides. The position was oddly familiar. Leo and Katie, his heir, had been positioned similarly last time I had been down there. This time, the female had curly red hair that fanned out on the clay floor, hair I remembered well. The vamps’ bodies looked totally human, relaxed in sleep, until I got close enough to make out the small pool of blood beneath each head and the gleam of silver at each temple. I moved closer to make sure, because they looked so peaceful.

  So did the pile of humans lying on the clay farther out, appearing well and truly dead, all of them relaxed and calm looking, not in postures of fighting. Just . . . asleep. Which was something I had seen once before, in photos down at NOPD. A whole unit of city cops had been taken down in an alley, not a shot fired, all of them drained dry by a master vamp with a gift for mind control. The humans had died happy, probably dreaming of being on a beach, sipping piña coladas, while a vampire-skinwalker monster drank them down and then ate their livers. It was why I’d been hired to come to New Orleans in the first place, to track down the vampire who had killed them. A vamp who had been a lot more than just a vamp.

  Unlike the cops, however, these humans hadn’t been eaten. “I have called for master Mithrans to turn them,” Leo said to me, gesturing with his chin at the humans. “There is life enough in them to bring over.” His voice sounded funny, not quite himself, as if he was holding something back, holding something in.

  Before I could figure out what was going on with Leo, there were numerous pops as the air pressure changed, to reveal vamps bending over each human. Some were high-placed vamps, like Dominique, Grégoire’s blond, beautiful heir, and some were low-placed ones, like Edmund Hartley, who was the vamp version of Leo’s bond slave. There were humans to help, and a dizzying miasma of scents washed over me, bloody, peppery, papery, the herbal signatures of vamps under stress and the pheromones of humans holding down panic.

  “They signed the papers?” I asked, meaning the contracts that humans signed when they became blood-servants, designating what was to happen if they were almost killed in service—whether they would be allowed to die or brought over.

  “It is being dealt with,” Leo said. Which didn’t really answer my question, but whatever.

  I toed a puddle of cooled metallic slag in the floor. It didn’t move. I looked up to the wall where Joses had hung. And back to the dead vamps, putting the scenario together. “The vampires came down here, pulled the silver stakes out of his wrists and feet, and let him off the wall. At some point, the pocket watches you were using to control Joses were activated and used in some spell. The working melted them down to puddles of bubbling goo.” I kicked another one of the disfigured, burned watches and chain with my boot, and it didn’t move. They were all stuck to the floor, melted into the clay, which had to take some kinda heat.

  “With his mind he trapped the humans they had brought to feed him and drank them down. Then, a little healed, he held the vamps still and drank them down. And then he stabbed his rescuers through the brains with the silver spikes and took off.”

  “Yesss.” Leo’s voice sounded ticked off again, that slithery dangerous tone vamps used when they wanted to remind you they were killers, at the top of the food chain. “You, my Enforcer, were supposed to keep my headquarters safe. You were supposed to keep my people safe. You were sup—”

  “Stuff it, Leo. You were supposed to tell me when anything changed. Like Adrianna coming back. When did she show? Last night? Right. You didn’t call. So don’t blame me when you’re playing vampire games and it comes back and bites you in the butt.” I angled my body so he could see the gun, just in case my attitude was more than he wanted to put up with. Or maybe I should just throw up on him. That might keep him from attacking me. Toeing the female vamp, I said, “I’m taking her head this time. Gratis, since you already paid me. But you wanna tell me why she’s still alive? Or was? And why you let her back in here?”

  Leo looked around the room slowly, and though his shoulders didn’t droop, it was obvious that he knew he’d screwed the pooch on this one. He frowned, a totally human frown, and said, “Rumors have persisted for many years that Adrianna had possession of objects of value to me—les objets de puissance, les objets de magie. I allowed her back, assured her of my good graces, and kept her under surveillance, with the intent to take les objets de magie from her.”

  Objects of power. Magical objects. Well. That was honest. For once. “She was Joses Bar-Judas’ what? Sweetheart? Honeybunch? Snack cake?”

  Leo smiled this time and drew in a breath that he didn’t need. The last of his hostility drained away when he exhaled, so maybe breathing did play a part in vamp physiology, like releasing tension. What did I know? What did anyone know?

  He took another breath to speak. “Snack cake, my Enforcer?” he asked, with heavy emphasis on the first two words. “No. She was his lover for a number of years. Some claim that she was present the night he disappeared, but she was with me that night, hoping to gain some favor. I don’t remember now what she even wanted, what she bargained for.”

  Sex and blood for a favor. Got it. “Uh-huh. And the thing you wanted to take away from her? The thing you let her back inside HQ for? Did you get it?” I remembered the hints of gold at Joses’ neck and wrist. “Or did the Son of Darkness get away with them too?”

  “Or perhaps you took them from him,” Leo said, his shoulders rising again, his pupils widening, his sclera going scarlet. Leo was over-reactionary tonight. That was interesting and dangerous. Very dangerous.

  “I don’t have anything except wounds,” I snapped, as my intestines did a tight, breath-stealing curl. Gasping shallowly, smelling the stink of my burned skin, I said, “Joses was wearing things made of gold at his wrist and neck when he took off. You can check your surveillance footage.”

  Grégoire drifted to his master’s side and placed two fingers to Leo’s waist, a calming gesture. I toed Adrianna again, seeing abrasions around her neck where a necklace had been wrenched off. A similar rip in her flesh showed at her right wrist. “Necklace? Maybe bracelet of some kind, ones he ripped off of her? So I can guess that once word started to leak out that you held Joses prisoner, Adrianna—and probably the rest of the fanghead world—decided he should be free and that they should be the ones to do him that favor. Get on his good side. So she brought the magical mystery jewelry here to set him free and join him on his golden throne to take over the world, right? ’Cause that’s what most evil villains want, though why anyone would want responsibility for this ball of dirt, I don’t know.”

  Leo’s shoulders slumped. He ran his fingers through his hair, holding the back of his skull with both hands as if trying to hold it together. He scrutinized each of the bodies for a moment, studying their faces. Their peaceful faces. “I have miscalculated,” he said at length. “Badly.” He dropped his hands slowly and looked into Grégoire’s eyes, as if seeking comfort. “My people are in grave danger.”

  “Nous sommes tous bien, mon cœur. Il n’y a pas de raison de s’inquiéter.” Which I thought a reassurance of some sort.

  I decided Leo was in control enough for me to holster the gun, which I did before unlocking my knees and dropping them to the clay floor. With my good hand, I pried a pocket watch free. Clay, hardened into stone or brick, came with it. Holding my injured arm tight against me to prepare for the jar, I pulled a knife with a solid steel hilt and banged the butt on the watch until the half-melted lid cracked open.

  Inside was the round iron disc, the magical part of the pocket watches, items that might—or might not—have been intended to alter time, to give the user a way to fold or bend time and reality, as I did, to give the user control over time, which translated to power over others. I hadn’t really figured out much about them and had been hoping I’d never have to. But whatever spell they held, Joses had used it to help him get
away. The iron disc looked different from the others I’d seen before. This one looked like someone had burnished it with a metal tool, then polished it with oil and a soft cloth, bringing all the brightness to the surface. It shimmered. I found another pocket watch and opened it the same way. Ditto on the iron disc. There were more, and I collected the discs from them too, holding them all in my good left palm. I shook them like one might shake dice at a craps table.

  In an undamaged state, the discs were magnetic, attracting others like them, and if allowed into close proximity, they latched together into a single unit, seamless, becoming a solitary oversized disc. Like magic. These, not so much. They didn’t react at all.

  I remembered the way Joses had moved while I was in the bubble of time. Yeah. Time. That was part of the spell and part of what all the vamps wanted. If you could control time or act outside of it, you could do anything. And now Joses Bar-Judas had used a wyrd and parts of the iron from the spike of Golgotha to maneuver outside of time. And he also now knew I had the same ability, without the iron.

  My life just kept getting better and better.

  “My Enforcer?”

  I dragged my thoughts back to Leo. “Yeah. Sorry.” I shook the discs again and forced myself to my feet. “He used whatever spell was in the discs. They look inert. He got away. And he’ll want revenge on you for holding him here for, what? Decades?”

  “Yes.”

  “And he’ll take it out on anyone he can get to, human or vamp.”

  “Yes. You are to find him and bring him to me. Alive.”

  I’ll get right on that, I thought. “I understand my duties, Leo.” Which didn’t say that I’d do exactly what he wanted. No promises on Joses being undead when I brought him back. I pocketed the discs and tapped my mouthpiece. “Alex. How long on the cameras?”

  “Back up and running. I didn’t want to interrupt your tête-à-tête. Working now to find out if anything is left of the vid.”

  “Thanks. I want to know how the vamps got down here. Who’s on coms upstairs? I need to talk to them, see footage.”

  “Collating footage now,” Alex said. His tone implied that I was stepping on his toes, trying to tell him how to do his job. “Coms was supposed to be one of the new guys, name of Roman,” he said, “but he called in sick. His mother had a heart cath today.” I could tell I wasn’t gonna like whatever he said next. “Vodka Martini was on coms today. He’s dead, Jane. I have footage of Adrianna walking in and stabbing him in the spine at his shoulder blades. And feeding until his heart stopped.”

  Shock spiraled through me, combining with the nausea already curdling in my gut. Martini had been with us a long time, as long as I’d known Derek, and had just come back after rehab following an on-the-job injury. Graying hair, ready laugh. Good with coms. Steady, reliable. A nice man killed because Leo had kept Adrianna alive.

  Steeling myself against my grief, I said, “Make sure Roman’s mom really did have a heart cath. Make sure we know where he was all day. Make sure he didn’t have a sudden need for money or favors. Get yourself some help either here or at the house. Angel Tit, if you can get him back. Get all the footage collated, all the subjects identified. I want a timeline of what happened here and I want it yesterday.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Alex said. From his tone I knew he was feeling the loss of Martini.

  “Hang in there, Alex,” I said softly. “Let me know when your brother checks back in.”

  “Roger that.”

  I snapped my coms unit off and turned to Leo. “Why did you let her back in? What did she have that you wanted?” When Leo hesitated, I added, “What magical toy did Joses Bar-Judas get away with, and how much trouble are we in because of it?”

  Leo didn’t answer. Disgusted, I pulled a vamp-killer and went to Adrianna. Still holding my injured arm close to me, I positioned the blade at what was left of Adrianna’s throat and prepared to bear down. Any vamp killed and not beheaded stood a chance of rising, a revenant, a mindless, blood-hunting, killing machine. Any vamp killed and brain-poisoned with silver stood an even better chance.

  Leo’s hand landed on my forearm. “No, my Enforcer. You may not.” Effortlessly, he lifted me and the blade up, and when I was standing, he removed the blade from my hand. Deftly, he resheathed it. “She may make a bargaining chip for the Son of Darkness, assuming that he recalls his affection for her when he regains his sanity. Dead, she is useless.” At my expression—which couldn’t have been pretty—Leo chuckled. “I will feed her and care for her in a scion lair. I will not let her starve or torture her with want. And I will personally make certain that her cage is secure.”

  “Sure you will. But, you see, it’s a little late for promises, Leo.” I pointed at the humans.

  Leo frowned, but it was more a “waste of good food” and “more scions to chain and feed” expression than an expression of concern. I pulled a flash and went to the humans, who were being fed drops of blood by vamps, shining the light into each face. I knew two of them personally. Or I had. I tapped the mic. I gave Alex the names of the injured and dead. “Leo has decided to keep Adrianna alive,” I said. He cursed. Again. I didn’t respond; I must be getting used to the boys’ language.

  “If you’re saving Adrianna, why not save him too?” I asked Leo, pointing at the other vamp.

  The MOC shook his head. “He cannot be saved. He is not old enough to survive silver. He is true-dead and may rise as a revenant if you do not take his head.”

  I figured it was a blood-master thing. Leo knew when his people could be saved or not. To Alex, I added, “His name is Mario Esposito.” Mario, a dark-skinned Italian vamp, had hit on me once, big-time. He had thought he was prettier and smoother than he really was, and I had used that to get something I wanted. I tried not to remember his mouth on my neck as I drew a vamp-killer. Efficiently, using the blade Leo had just put away, I cut through what was left of Mario’s cervical spine. There wasn’t enough blood left in him to spew, but the sound of the blade going through tissue was wet and sticky, followed by the harder, muted thumping and grating of steel on bone. The blade wasn’t made for boning or jointing animals, but it did the job, eventually, leaving only the stink of vamp blood meeting silver on the air.

  I wiped the blade on Mario’s coat, noticing only now that it was white cloth with gold threads woven through it. Like, real cloth of gold. And Joses and I had ruined it with bloodstains. They’d never come out. A laugh tittered in the back of my throat but turned to a gasp when I stood and my jacket pulled on my injured arm. At least my stomach was feeling better. I no longer wanted to toss bloody cookies.

  I tapped my mic and said, “We’re gonna need lights and equipment.”

  “Roger that,” Alex said. “Eli’s on the way down.”

  I pretended not to hear the utter relief in his voice, that Eli was back. “Copy.”

  Ignoring me, Leo extended his talons toward Adrianna and pushed into the gore that was her head, gripping the blunt end of the huge silver stake buried deep in her temple. With a jerk, he pulled it out and threw it across the room, his tolerance of silver marking him stronger than most other vamps I knew. He scooped his arms beneath her and lifted Adrianna. From behind us, the other vamps, almost in unison, lifted their humans and popped away, moving like blurs up the staircase. Leo moved more sedately, away from the stairs, his bestie, Grégoire, on his heels. The elevator thumped and the doors opened.

  Eli and Del stood there, Bruiser behind them, watching. Eli was holding a psy-meter, designed by the Psychometry Law Enforcement Division of Homeland Security for measuring ambient and active magical energy. I used to measure in at sixty-two. No telling what I measured now. I gave Eli a finger sign to wait and he offered back a truncated nod, understanding that until Leo departed, any measurement was void. I hadn’t asked my partner how he managed to get one of the rare psychometers, which were exclusive to the use of law enforcement and military. Sometimes it was better not to know stuff.

  Without a backward gl
ance at me, Leo walked onto the elevator, the others moving out of his way. He left behind droplets of Adrianna’s blood, and maybe a little bloody gray matter. I didn’t look closely at Leo’s trail. As he passed Adelaide, her eyes followed Leo, her face full of emotion, none of it good, none of it making sense. When the elevator door closed, Del moved quickly across the room and through the pocket door, up the stairs, as if chasing the vamps and their human burdens. She wasn’t running, not exactly, but she wasn’t taking her time either.

  As she left, Bruiser approached, his eyes on me. At six-four, he was a tall man, even to me, topping my height by several inches. Looking every inch the Enforcer, the primo of a master vamp, neither of which he was anymore, he studied the room, the humans, the beheaded vamp, silent. But he took no command position, which felt so odd to me. He had always been Enforcer and primo, always in charge. Now he was Onorio and living off premises and . . . often in my bed, or I in his. But he never interfered when I was working, recognizing my authority as Leo’s current, temporary, part-time Enforcer. Everything was all backward.

  “Suggestions?” I asked.

  “One or two,” he said smoothly. “Over dinner, soon.”

  Which meant later, privately, and not for any listening ears at coms. I nodded. I needed to know what was wrong with Del. I needed to know about Adrianna. I needed to know a lot of stuff, and Bruiser hadn’t been at his apartment last night, which meant he had stayed at HQ. I assumed. I didn’t really know. And I was too chicken to ask, fearful of sounding like a lovesick schoolgirl, whining, Where were you last night? You didn’t answer my text. Were you with your old girlfriend? Which I knew he wasn’t, since his old girlfriend was Katie of Katie’s Ladies, my former landlady, and Leo’s heir. And Leo’s lover. Vamp bed jumping was normally hard to keep up with, but Alex was currently handling the security cams and console for Katie’s place of business, until we could train Deon, her chef, for that job. We had access to all the cameras, and Bruiser hadn’t been there. Katie had been otherwise entertained last night. I tried to ignore my own relief at that. I trusted Bruiser. I did. But we hadn’t established the boundaries of our relationship yet. I wasn’t sure we really had a relationship yet.