He was engaged in conversation with two of the tall men from the elevator, though from what I saw Pembroke was speaking while the tall men just nodded slightly. When he saw me approaching, he broke off the conversation and the tall men slunk into the background.
We met halfway and I got my first up-close look at the mummy. There were no bandages or toilet paper wrapped around him, nor did he seem to be Egyptian. But you would be hard-pressed to mistake him for human from this distance. He was shriveled, like a grape left out in the sun that had become a raisin. His skin was dark and dry, like it might flake off at any time. Overall he looked more like walking jerky in a suit than a person.
He held out his hand and I shook it, trying not to think about ‘curse of the mummy’ type legends. His skin was cool to the touch. “Kurt, isn’t it? I was hoping to meet you. Glad you found the party.” He spoke in such a thick British accent that it took a minute for my brain to translate what he said.
I arched an eyebrow in surprise. “You wanted to see me, Mr. … should I just call you Pembroke?”
“Normally I would take offense to the lack of title, but I think you’ve earned the right. After all, you removed Ms. Goren from this world, and are thus responsible for the possibility of my expansion here. I would go so far as to say I am somewhat indebted to you, Hunter.”
And here I had told Lyanne and Eve that no one knew I was responsible for Tandi’s demise. It was nice to get some recognition for it at last, even if it was from a murderous British mummy.
I squared up with the mummy, straightening my stance and looking him dead in his undead eyes to let him know I was ready for a fight, regardless of where we were. If he knew I’d killed Tandi, he knew what I was capable of. “I don’t need any debts from you. Tandi died because she was actively torturing innocents, twisting them into aberrations to extend her own unnatural life. It’s what I will do to any creature that tries to harm innocent mortals, whether they are Succubi, ghouls, vampires … or mummies.”
If Pembroke was impressed with my threats, gave no sign. “I understand, Kurt, and I appreciate you being so … forthcoming in your motivations. Properly defined goals are an important step to maintaining civility between rivals, and there is little I value more than civility.”
“And what are you goals in this city, Pembroke?”
He looked around at the other guests surrounding us. “We should speak privately. If you would come this way.”
Without waiting for an answer, he turned on his heels and made his way down on of the halls that led away from the dining room. It was possible, if not likely, that he was trying to lore me into some kind of trap, but I wasn’t leaving here without answers. If he tried something, he would quickly learn the same lesson that Tandi had.
As if she had read my mind, Jexie assuaged my concerns. “Don’t worry, he won’t make a move on you unless start it. Pembroke is big on manners and ‘the proper way of things.’ That includes the right way to treat guests in his home, and he recognized you as a guest when he shook your hand. You’re safe, though it wouldn’t hurt if you showed him the same respect.”
I didn’t much feel like showing any respect to a monster like Pembroke, the kind of monster my mother expected me to eliminate. But sometimes you had to do things you didn’t want to do.
We followed Pembroke to what I took to be a home office. Like the rest of the house it was sparsely furnished, with a single desk in the center of the room with one chair behind it, a bookshelf on one wall full of beat-up old tomes, and a single standing lamp.
He spoke the moment I stepped into the room. “Have you ever heard the expression, ‘Better the devil you know than the one you don’t?’ Irish origins, I believe.”
“Are you saying you are the devil, Pembroke?”
Pembroke’s smile was like curling leather. “One of them. The point I was hoping to make is that our relationship doesn’t have to be one of animosity.” He reached under his desk pulled out a bottle of fine liquor, one that seemed almost as ancient as he was and that would likely make Lyanne jealous when she heard. The smell of the scotch hit me in the face as he popped it open and poured a small amount into two glasses. I glanced over at Jexie, wondering if she would also be offered some, but I noticed she had somehow gotten her hands on another glass of wine.
I took the glass offered to me, ready to prove I wasn’t afraid of poison or anything else he might try. “I don’t know you, Pembroke.” With a single gulp, I downed the scotch, feeling a not unpleasant burning sensation as it worked its way down.
The mummy sipped slowly on his glass, savoring it. “Oh, but you do, Hunter, you do. You just don’t realize it yet. I represent the way things should be, the way things used to be before everyone lost their manners. I am order and control, reason and respectability. The problem with someone like Ms. Goren was that nothing was ever enough for her. She continued to consume and grow and kill well past the point of sustainability. It is actually quite amazing that no one decided to remove her from this world years ago.”
I held out my glass, and he obliged by pouring another finger of the ancient scotch. “So you want me to believe, what—that you’re different? That if I just let you have free reign over the city and take over in Tandi’s absence then suddenly immortals and mortals are going to be best friends?”
He shook his head and made a clacking sound that I believe was a chuckle. “No, of course not. Immortals will always need to prey on humans, some because they require it for their very sustenance, some because it is just in their nature. This relationship will never change any more than the relationship between cats and mice. I’m talking about controlling the chaos, curbing the gluttony, and starting a civil working relationship built on mutual respect.”
Something about the way he referred to humans as mice didn’t sit well with me. Fortunately for him, the whiskey was going a long way toward helping me not detest him. “Yeah, I’m sure you’re the Ghandi of the immortal world. And I’m sure your offer has nothing to do with the fact that there’s someone else making a play for the throne.”
His face shriveled into a scowl. “Benazir. Believe me, you are much better off with me at the reigns of the undead and immortal communities of the city than that beast.”
I think we would be better off without any of you monsters here.
Pembroke finished his drink and slammed the glass down hard. “That desert hag should have remained in her hovel, scaring children and throwing mud at passersby. She’s a perfect example of why some shouldn’t be trusted with power.”
The way he spoke about his rival, the way he spoke about everyone he believed beneath him, allowed me to realize what was bothering me. “Are you a bigot, Pembroke?”
His eyes widened in what could have been a hurt expression. “Me? You would level such an accusation against your host, after all the courtesy and respect I’ve gone through the trouble of showing you?” He sighed. “I’m undead. I don’t hate anyone, but you should consider what Benazir’s people are doing with living beings, and what she’ll do to this city if it falls into her hands. Ask Maura about Benazir and her reign of terror in Morocco. It was an exquisite place, until she filled the gutters with blood and the air with shrieks of horror.”
I finished the last of my glass and set it down next to his. “I think I’ll do just that. Thanks for the drink.”
For just a moment, I turned to Jexie to motion that we were leaving, and when I turned back I thought Pembroke has someone had slipped out of the room and left one of his guests in his place. It was only the frills running down the front of his undershirt that told me that the man before me was the same mummy I had just been talking to. His wrinkly, sun-dried complexion had been replaced with smooth, if somewhat pale, skin and a bright smile. He was, by all metrics I understood, classically handsome, and the tuxedo he wore, which I had taken as somewhat flamboyant when I first saw it, actually seemed to suit him perfectly now.
“Do stop by again anytime you want to have a
chat, Kurt.” That accent confirmed that the mummy and this man were indeed one and the same.
He turned his attention to Jexie and gave her a knowing smile. “Oh, and do send your parents my best, dear.”
I left the party hastily, taking just enough time to nod to the immortals as I parted to let them know that I was leaving because I chose to, not as a retreat. Jexie followed me, keeping silent as we rode the elevator back to the ground floor and crossed through the main lobby to front doors.
It wasn’t until we were outside that I turned to face her. “What did he mean, about your parents? Do you know more about Pembroke than you claimed? Don’t lie to me.”
She fidgeted uncomfortably. “My parents were the ones who brought Pembroke into the country. He was inside his sarcophagus and they shipped him over under the cover of it being brought over for a museum display.” Seeing the look in my eyes, she shrugged. “It was only business.”
“When I asked you if you knew him—”
“I didn’t lie. It was my parents who dealt with him, I was just … aware of it. Like I told you, my only real interactions with him were at The Dispensary.”
I was angry. Well, more frustrated and disappointed, really. It was hard to stay mad when she looked so guilty under my glare, her shoulders slumped and her head bowed. I sighed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, if you’re going to be close to me, excuses like ‘it was only business’ won’t work. I’ve had a bad history with it, and I won’t tolerate it now. What I do—it’s just as much personal as it is a job. Understand?”
She nodded, relaxing considerably now that my glare was gone.
“Well, come on. If you want to know more about what I do, there are some people you have to meet. How do you feel about Vermont this time of year?”
8
Maura sounded sleepy when she picked up her phone. Sleepy and agitated. “You know, Kurt, The Dispensary is open until one, so calling me this early, you must really want—"
I cut her off. “Good morning, Maura. I was wondering if you would like to join us for a five a.m. breakfast. We’ll be serving up Bloody Mary’s, eggs, and intrigue. Did I mention Bloody Mary’s?”
She muttered too low for me to make out what she was saying about me, but I got the impression it wasn’t flattering. “Who’s we?”
“Me, Lyanne, who you met, Eve, who you haven’t met but I’m sure you’ve heard of, Sara, my researcher, and one of your regulars, Jexie. She wanted me to pass on a message to you, actually, something along the lines of, ‘Get your lazy ass out of bed and get over here.’”
Maura made a low groaning noise, and from the shuffling it sounded like she was pulling herself out of bed. “Five’s not long from now. Am I even going to have time to get changed? Where in the city am I meeting you?”
“Not in the city. Vermont, actually.” Before she could voice her confusion, I added, “I’ll send a portal to pick you up in a few minutes, so get ready.”
A short while later we were all seated around my dining room table, eating eggs and drinking plenty of Bloody Mary’s to take the edge off the early morning hour. Except for Jexie, who didn’t seem tired at all. Instead she was almost frustratingly energetic.
Though that wasn’t the reason Lyanne had chosen to sit on the opposite side of the table from her, or why she kept casting concerned looks her way.
I had introduced Jexie to them last night after Pembroke’s party and she had explained to them her ability. Sara found it fascinating, and Eve was enticed by the prospect of reconnecting with a part of her past she thought was long gone. Lyanne, on the other hand, seemed horrified by the prospect of communicating with the ghosts of her past, and has since made an effort to keep clear of Jexie and never take her eyes off her when they’re in the same room.
Maura was still grumpy at having been pulled out of bed so early. “Usually I charge a lot more for information than eggs.”
I made it a point to laugh aloud, as if she had just told a hilarious joke. “Who said anything about information? We’re all just friends here, gathered for an informal breakfast. And if our breakfast conversation happens to move in a certain direction…”
“Oh, I know what makes good breakfast table discussion,” Jexie chimed in. “Anyone hear anything interesting lately about the mummy and the witch that are trying to take over the city?”
I played along, continuing the act Jexie and I had arranged, much to Maura’s chagrin. “Why, yes, funny you should mention that, Jexie. I was actually at a party thrown by Pembroke the mummy last night. Interesting guy, once you get past his accent. He thinks the best thing for the city is to let him take control of Tandi’s network of undead and immortals so he can reign them in and put a stop to the chaos that’s been plaguing our streets.”
Jexie gave an exaggerated look of surprise, which drew an eye roll from Maura. “You don’t say. What else did he say?”
“He said that things would get much worse in the city if his rival, Benazir, was able to take control instead. Something about how I should ask Maura about Morocco in 1911?”
All eyes turned to Maura, who wasn’t so much cutting into her eggs as she was stabbing them. She felt all the eyes upon her, shook her head, and set down her knife. “So what am I, a history teacher now? Fine, whatever it takes to get that face to end.
She reached into one of her pockets, pulled out one of her menthol cigarettes, and lit it up before beginning her story. “Back in 1911, the Moroccan city of Fez was one of the jewels of northern Africa, a city so bright it rivaled anything on this side of the world. These were the days leading up to the first World War, and there was tension between the locals, the French who wanted Morocco as their own, and the Germans. And Benazir, she manipulated those tensions to incite rebellion. Her servants infiltrated every side and committed crimes against one another to spark rage, and in quick time it grew into a full-scale revolt against the Sultan. Thousands died and the city nearly burned, and all to the end of filling the larders of her escape ship with humans. That’s the way she operates: she’ll kill and destroy as much as she wants just to accomplish her ends.”
That matched up with everything else I’d heard about Benazir so far. “Darcy also said that Benazir is the likely culprit behind all the butchered bodies we have found. Sounds like she is the more dangerous of our two targets and the one we should try to remove first.”
Lyanne seemed less than convinced. “Doing so may be playing right into Pembroke’s hands. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that he behaves all nice to you when he has something he needs, someone to take his enemy out for him. And once she’s gone there won’t be anything standing in his way of consolidating all the power in New York City, and suddenly we’d have another Tandi on our hands.”
Jexie waved her fork around theatrically as she spoke to accentuate her points. “Would it really be so bad if someone like Pembroke took control of the undead in the city? You’ve all seen what happens to them when no one is calling the shots, haven’t you? They just start going on a rampage with little concern for secrecy or self-preservation. Whenever there is a power gap there will always be someone trying to fill it. Pembroke might not be the worse option if someone does need to fill that role. At least he seems willing to work with you.”
There was something to that argument. He had not seemed to be the most unreasonable guy, though whenever I thought about working with him I got images of the scars over Darcy’s true body, which she said were inflicted by Pembroke. It was a good reminder that however charming or reasonable Pembroke liked to act, he was still a monster.
Eve and Lyanne exchanged a knowing look.
“This story sounds familiar,” Eve commented.
I decided to err on the side of caution. “What do we really know about him, other than he wears a suit well? It’s too early to be getting into bed with him.”
Sara laughed at my choice of phrasing, then she noticed the heads turned to her, blushed red, and turned back to her food.
&n
bsp; Maura finished her third Bloody Mary and was reaching for the pitcher. “Maybe I can help. For free, this time, if you promise never to call me here this early again. Sounds like what you’re looking for is someone who has more experience with Pembroke to give you an idea of whether he can be trusted. I happen to know someone who has a long history with him.”
“On a related note, have you ever been to the British Consulate?”
When we went online to get direction for the British Consulate General in New York, we noticed some jokers had left reviews on it, and that the consulate currently warranted a 2 out of 5-star rating. As we waited several hours to be seen despite having an appointment, I came to realize that the rating was well deserved.
The consulate itself was located in an office building across from a nail salon and a dry cleaners. Nothing inside really distinguished it from the dozens of other similar office buildings that surrounded it, except perhaps the increased security presence. They had the same black tile floors, same inlaid lighting, the same air of coffee and exhaustion that could be found everywhere this early on a Monday morning.
I thought I might be able to flirt my way into being seen sooner. Ever since I arrived back from being nearly blown up overseas, I’ve had the uncanny ability to cause arousal in women near me, whether I intend to or not. It was something that could get me in a lot of trouble if I wasn’t cautious with it. Unfortunately, while the pudgy secretary seemed more than ready to jump me in the nearest restroom if I offered, she was unable to do anything to make my meeting come any faster. So there was nothing I could do but wait and count the tiles on the floor.
Lyanne didn’t seem to mind being kept waiting. Maybe that was a kind of talent you picked up when you had been around for as long as she had. “Have you ever been to England?” she asked idly.
Succubus Hunter 2 (The Succubus Series) Page 7
