“I told you already, there won’t be a convocation—in Chicago or anywhere else. And Maximilian can go jump in a fucking lake.”
“I suspect he will not.”
“His loss. A nice swim can be good for the soul.”
“Raylene? Stop beating around the bush.”
“Who’s beating around anything? I have a plan.”
“Oh no.”
I sighed. “Why does everyone always say that, every time I say I have a plan?”
“Because your plans are—”
“It was a rhetorical question, okay? I have a plan. I think you’ll like it.”
“If you really thought I’d like it, you’d have told it to me by now.”
“Untrue, my dear. I’m only withholding because I have a few minor details to iron out.”
“Oh no.”
“Stop that, would you? They are minor details—details of convenience, not details of necessity. And they aren’t worth going into, not over the phone.”
“You’re not going to kill me, are you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh yes,” I pressed, and the evil smile that stretched across my face felt really fucking good. “But there’s both more and less to it than that. Things are going to change around here, Ian.”
“Around Atlanta?”
“Well, around Atlanta, too, yes. But you know what I mean. In Seattle. Things are going to change.”
“For the better, I hope.”
“For our better, yes. Yours, and mine, and the kids. And Elizabeth, Isabelle, and Adrian. Shit, better for Pita, too—what the hell. No reason to leave him out of the fun.”
“You may reconsider your charitable attitude when you see your pillow.”
“Oh Christ.”
“Raylene?”
“Yes, Ian?”
“Come home soon.”
“I will. And when I do, I’m going to fix everything.”
We hung up, and I folded the cell phone back into my pocket. Then I rolled down the edges of the brown-paper bag that held my gifted peanuts, and I left it open on the park bench before I headed back to the hotel.
14
I was right, and Isabelle wanted to stay with Adrian. But first she was willing to swing by the homestead with her brother, where she met Ian. They had lots to talk about … but didn’t seem to know what to do with one another.
One of the easier topics of conversation was her escape and subsequent life of freedom after escaping the island compound at Jordan Roe. She, Ian, and a handful of other preternaturals had been held there for experimentation by the military. But when a storm tore the compound open, those who had not died, fled.
Isabelle had tried to swim to the Florida mainland, but was washed out into the Gulf of Mexico. By sheer luck, she was picked up before dawn by a yacht called the Saraphina. Saraphina was owned by a woman named Samantha Carey … a woman who was dying of breast cancer—though no one else knew it at the time. It was her secret, and the reason she’d bought the boat: for one last great cruise, taken on her own terms.
Fishing a young vampire out of the ocean changed things.
Isabelle and Samantha became friends, then lovers (despite the age difference), then parent and child when Isabelle bit Samantha—taking away the cancer for good.
Their union hadn’t lasted long, but it ended on good terms. Samantha’s new lease on life led to a desire for world travel, and she didn’t really have room for a partner, but she gave Isabelle enough money to live on, and they stayed in regular touch.
Otherwise, the girl vampire had been essentially on her own for the better part of a decade.
She knew that Adrian had disappeared, too, and she’d worried—but not known what to do. She knew that the Barringtons still ruled Atlanta, but she also knew that they were not as strong a House as everyone assumed.
“Theresa had kept Grandmother’s ring,” she explained with a glance at Adrian that said he knew which grandmother and which ring she spoke of.
“The diamond?”
“Yes, the one Mother brought from Cuba when they left. I wanted it back. They could keep everything else I’d left—just clothes, and some CDs, and nothing, really. Nothing worth looking for. But the ring … it was the only thing of value I ever owned, and Theresa was wearing it. I saw a picture of her with Robert Croft, from some party they attended. It was in a newspaper, and people were talking about Atlanta and Chicago forming an alliance—and that sounded awful, but I didn’t care about it any more than Theresa cared about the ring. She’s so stupid, she probably thought it was fake.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” I said. “She didn’t strike me as the type to know coal from cubic zirconium.”
“It made me mad, so I went back to the house while they were still away in Illinois, before they came home. I broke inside and looked everywhere in their room, but I couldn’t find it. That’s when I realized she must’ve put it somewhere else.”
“She could’ve still been wearing it.”
Isabelle shrugged. “True, but I didn’t want to take it off her hand if I could help it. I didn’t want to see her, or talk to her. I didn’t want anything to do with her after the things she made me drink. All I wanted was the ring.”
“Did you ever find it?”
“No. Someone came in and almost caught me, so I had to come back later. When I came back the next time, they’d added some security. I set it off when I got inside one of the bedrooms—the window, when I opened it. It was very close to dawn, but I was willing to take the risk. The alarm went off. I disturbed a man who was staying there. He was settling in for the day, but he saw me, and he attacked me.”
“A man who was staying there? In that extra bedroom where I found you?”
“Yes. He was an old vampire, older than me. Older than you, I think. He was very strong, but I was lucky—we struggled, and the mirror over the dresser broke. I picked up a big piece of glass and threw it. It almost took his head off. Before he could kill me, I killed him the rest of the way,” she said, which was one way to put it.
“Father,” Ian murmured.
“Who?” she asked.
I filled in, “The man you killed. His name was William Renner. Ian knew him, but they were no longer part of the same House.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t go there to kill him. I only did it in self-defense.”
Ian said, “And he attacked you for the same reason, I bet. You surprised him. He thought you were there to kill him, and it’s hard to blame him. He was under the Barringtons’ roof. I’m sure every one of them looked like a potential murderer.”
“It was a misunderstanding,” she said, nodding. “I wish he hadn’t been there. I only wanted the ring. Now I’ll never find it. If I go back now, the House will be locked down like Alcatraz. I’ll never get inside.”
“You may not have to,” I told her brightly.
Adrian, who was sitting in front of the television with Pita on his lap, asked, “Why’s that? Are you going to go back there and get it for her? I don’t know if she told you or not,” he said to his sister, “but Raylene is pretty good at getting in and out of places.”
“If I have to, I’ll totally sneak in and swipe it for you. Frankly, I’d do it for giggles—and for the chance to put my fist through Theresa’s face. But I suspect it won’t come down to that. Give it another few weeks, and I can probably collect it with a phone call.”
The room got quiet, primarily because the kids weren’t present to start asking questions. They were out, as was their custom at three AM on a weeknight. Hey, it’s like I said—I’m not their mom, and I don’t monitor their comings and goings. Very much. Actually, I knew where they were … or at least, I knew what they were doing. I’d sent them on an errand.
Ian prodded me first. “Raylene, you said you had a plan and I said ‘oh no.’ Is this the part where you tell us exactly how much ‘oh no’ we ought to be feeling? This situation.” He waved
toward where he knew Isabelle was sitting, cross-legged on the floor beside her brother. “It could get very tricky, politically. She killed the head of a House …”
“By accident,” I interjected.
“Regardless, it’s been pinned on the Atlanta House—”
“As it rightly should’ve been, since Isabelle is technically still a member of the Barrington clan. And it happened on their watch, under their roof.”
Elizabeth piped up, startling the whole room. “I’ve hidden the bones.” She’d been downstairs when we’d begun the conversation. I hadn’t heard her come up. Damn, that woman was spooky when she wanted to be.
Isabelle saw us all turn to look at Ms. Creed, so she looked, too.
Elizabeth entered the room and took the free seat next to Ian on the short couch. She moved a little slowly, as if she’d only just awakened. It takes time to adjust to a vampire’s schedule. Or a drag queen’s.
“Good evening,” Ian told her.
She smiled at him. “Good evening to you all, too.”
“Elizabeth, I’m glad you’re here,” I told her.
“And why is that?”
“General principle?” I tried.
“Ha.”
“Okay, I’m glad you’re here because now this makes everyone. All the grown-ups, anyway. And the time has come to unveil my nefarious plan—the plan that’s going to keep Ian from turning into dust at the hands of his brother, and prevent his brother from going on the warpath after us. This is the plan that is going to keep us all safe and secure for the foreseeable future.”
“This sounds like a big plan,” Ian said.
Adrian said, “Tell me about it. I’ve been trying to drag it out of her since Georgia.”
“All right—let’s hear it,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll like it best if I don’t have to use any of the bones. They wear me out, and I still have plans for at least two of them.”
“Two of them?” Did I really want to know?
“Two more things to be undone.”
“Is there any rush?” I asked nervously.
She glanced down at her wrist, which did not have a watch on it—or a calendar, or anything else to tell her anything. But upon checking that patch of skin, she concluded, “Yes and no. One of them, I’ll need to start soon. One can wait.”
“Will you be blowing up anything in Seattle?”
Elizabeth considered this question. She stretched out and relaxed, a move that caught the attention of the resident cat. Pita abandoned Adrian’s lap and sauntered over to Elizabeth, who patted her thigh in an invitation. The kitten took it, purred, kneaded his claws around into her leg, and conked out again.
Finally, she said, “Not at this time.”
I’d take what I could get. “Fine. Here goes.” I cleared my throat for dramatic emphasis. I made sure Isabelle was watching me, and could see my lips move. Since this once, for these few precious seconds, I had everyone’s attention … I laid it all out.
“As you’re all aware, the ranks of this household have begun to um … swell. Last year at this time I was living by myself, and I had lived by myself for a really long time. I’ve been staying in Seattle because it didn’t have a House, and the vampire population is very low. Outside of this room, I know of maybe three or four of us who live within the city limits, and we all go out of our way to avoid one another.
“I’ve always assumed that the original House—if the city ever had one—went up in smoke during the 1889 fire, much like the original Atlanta House during the Civil War. But this is neither here nor there. The city is big enough, and there are now enough of us hanging around, that we need to work out some kind of formal arrangement for our own protection.”
“Holy shit, Raylene,” Ian exclaimed—making the first time I’d ever heard him swear. From sheer surprise, I stopped talking long enough for him to ask, “Are you suggesting that we form a House?”
“Yes. That is exactly what I’m suggesting. We don’t have to do it all formal-like, with titles and ranks and other assorted forms of bullshit, but we do need to have the structure in place. We need it because if we don’t form it, someone else will. It won’t be much longer—there just aren’t any cities this size anymore that lack a House. It’s only a matter of time before one of the big boys decides to unload a few of its more problematic members on King County. My money’s on Chicago, since Atlanta is looking like a shitty bet these days—but it could just as easily be LA or San Francisco. Eventually, someone will notice that Seattle is unoccupied from an official standpoint. And then, my friends, we are going to be in trouble.”
Isabelle nodded gravely. “Unless we do it first.”
“That’s right. We don’t have to be the biggest or baddest House to work as a deterrent to would-be squatters. If we’re openly present, we have to be challenged by anyone who wants to come in and start up a franchise.”
Ian wasn’t on board yet, but he had his pensive face on. “And that doesn’t happen often. Not anymore. It’s too costly, for everyone.”
“Precisely. Best of all, in order to claim a House, all you need are three vampires willing to sit in a room together without killing one another.” I pointed to myself. “One.” And then to Ian. “Two.” And to Isabelle. “Three.”
Elizabeth frowned thoughtfully. “Then what about Adrian and me? What part do we have in this, or do we have one at all?”
“Good question. I bet you didn’t know this—for that matter, not many vampires know it—but there’s nothing on the books that says only vampires can be part of a vampire House.” I saw Ian open his mouth to make an objection, but I prattled onward before he could interrupt. “Granted, it’s usually understood. But who gives a damn? I say anyone who’s capable of holding their own in such a House is welcome to be part of it. Some Houses might get the idea that we’re disorganized and weak, but fuck ’em if they’re that shortsighted. We’re more like pirates than high society over here. Why would we turn away anyone with power or talent, purely because they don’t match the undead criteria?”
No one argued. Everyone sat there looking at me. I had no idea what to do with so much undivided attention. It came along so rarely, after all.
“You guys know I’m right.”
No one said anything. So I went ahead and opened the floor to questions.
“Anyone have anything they’d like to say? Any objections? Anyone not game? All you have to do is say so. I won’t bully anyone to playing House with me. If everyone isn’t on board, then it won’t work. But I think it can work. I think we can finish the bottom three floors, beef up the building’s security, and have ourselves something far cooler than a Buckhead McMansion.”
Isabelle giggled. “I like this place better, yes,” she said. “I like all the brick.”
“Me too. I’m keen on brick. It’s simple but effective.”
Again I thought about a moat. Briefly, I pondered the particulars, and then sadly I discarded the idea.
“What do you say? Adrian? I’ve seen your apartment. It’s tiny. You don’t have room for yourself, much less yourself and Isabelle—but you two could have half the downstairs once we split it up and fix all the electrics. Elizabeth, these days you’re on some of the same Most Wanted lists as me. I can help you set up a new identity, something solid that’ll pass a closer inspection than mere airport security. And Ian—” I stopped there.
“Yes. Then Ian,” he referred to himself in third person. “I’m your problem, Ray—not your solution. Remember? San Francisco wants to call me home to kill me, and if Maximilian finds out you’re harboring me, your fledgling House will be over before it has a chance to stand on its own two feet.”
“You’re right. But now we get to the truly brilliant part of my brilliant plan.”
In perfect time, Adrian and Ian both said, “Oh no.”
“Knock it off, you two,” I commanded. Behind me, I heard the service elevator clatter shut and begin its humming ascent. “Oh good, the kids are home.”
&n
bsp; Momentarily, Domino and Pepper appeared. Pepper drew back the gate, because Domino was carrying a puffed-up garbage bag.
The boy said, “Ray, that is without a doubt the most disgusting thing you’ve ever asked us to do.”
“For free room and board? I think it’s the least you can do. And no one’s even been assigned the permanent role of litter box cleaner, so don’t make any grand declarations just yet.”
“Not it!” Pepper declared.
“You don’t get to do that!” her brother immediately told her. “I carried a trash bag full of cigarette ashes all over Capitol Hill—”
“And I emptied out the containers!”
“Kids! You’ve both done disgusting things on my behalf tonight, and I thank you. I didn’t mean to bring up the litter box. I’m sure we’ll come to some fair arrangement later on. It’ll wait for now, though. Get in here.”
“They’ve been doing … what now?” Ian asked.
“Emptying public ashtrays,” Pepper grumbled. “Raylene, I think I need a tetanus shot.”
“You don’t even know what tetanus is.”
“Do you get it from fooling around with dirty metal things?”
“Very well. Vaccinations for everyone!” I announced with excessive glee.
“No! That’s not what I meant! I was only kidding.”
“Good,” I said, though now she’d gotten me wondering. I looked at Pita, who didn’t so much as crack an eye open to look back at me. Pets need vaccinations, don’t they? Surely children do as well. Maybe it was the kind of thing I ought to look into.
Domino stomped into the room and dropped the garbage bag on the floor. It settled with a soft poofing gray cloud, but at least he’d thought to tie off the top.
Adrian wanted to know, “Why on earth were they cleaning out ashtrays?”
Ian caught on fast. He answered before I could.
“Because they’re going to kill me.”
Hellbent Page 31
