True Dead

by Faith Hunter

  Quint jerked the old blood-servant upright. Removed her gag. As Quint moved, Raisin spat again. This time something flew from her mouth. Midair, it glittered.

  “Down!” Koun screamed. With a single downward cut, he batted the thing back at Raisin. With his other hand, he lifted the heavy desk on its end and yanked Quint and me down. His body moving vamp-fast. The desk still rocking over us.

  The glittering thing hit Raisin in the face.

  An explosion ripped all sound away.

  The office shook. Dust and debris flew.

  I crawled to my feet. Trying to figure out what had happened. Blinking against the dust and the blood in my eyes. Deaf. In my pocket, the Glob was hot, as if it had pulled energy from the air. So . . . magic?

  The memories were splintered and confused but . . . Raisin had spat something from her mouth and Koun had batted it back, yanked up the desk to protect us, and shoved us down. Vamp-fast. Right?

  Ernestine’s head was gone, nothing of her left above her shoulders, Koun’s blade had buried itself in the desk edge and both were still rocking. Koun nodded to me. He was okay. I checked on Quint who was trying to get to her feet. We were all covered in blood, but not our own. Quint and I were coughing against the dust and the stench of whatever had been used in the physical part of the explosion. Koun wasn’t breathing, so he was fine. And none of us were dead, thanks to Koun’s vamp reflexes.

  Time solidified and stabilized. I shook my head as my brain started to work.

  Raisin was no vamp. Her body had contained a lot of blood. It still pulsed from her headless neck, though weakly now. It had splattered everywhere. Koun shoved the headless body onto the floor. The blood had drenched everything and everyone in sight. Quint dragged me toward the door. My people had ducked away at Koun’s warning. They were racing back. They grabbed at me, searching for wounds. Koun said something and they stepped back. I looked at myself. I was . . . a mess.

  That might be a good thing. The blood of the lynchpin between two factions could be a powerful token to vamps. I looked back to see Koun levering the blade out of the wood. He placed it on the desk, palmed a different, smaller blade, and turned to face the door. I touched my crown, and thought about my damaged ears, and how I needed them right away. I felt a tendril of healing flow to them. A hum was followed by a roaring and then by voices as if from a distance. I was able to hear some. That was fast.

  Gesturing my people away from the opening, Quint led us into the hallway.

  Adan shoved past us into the room, fast, with a little pop of air that sent the dust soaring again. He stopped. His wild hair was flying and patchy. His eyes went wide. This was one time that not having to breathe worked against a vamp. He hadn’t smelled the blood in his wild run. Or me.

  He saw the body, slumped and headless. Adan reached for his weather magic, but before he could gather it, Quint threw a small blade. It buried itself in Adan’s throat.

  Adan, who had killed Derek. Derek. Who had just become a friend.

  In one swift move, I pulled my vamp-killer. Stepped to Adan’s side. In a single backhand strike, I took Adan’s head. The cut was so powerful his head spun into the air, leaving his body standing.

  Quint caught the head. The body crumpled.

  From behind Adan, a woman screamed.

  CHAPTER 17

  Bloody Diminutive Blonde, Dangling Two Heads by the Hair

  Ka N’vsita and an unknown vamp stood in the hallway, Ka’s amber eyes wide with horror and shock. The vamp old and powerful. I pulled the Glob. It was still hot in my hand.

  Ka screamed again. The stink of liver-eater flooded out through her open-mouthed cry. And then she was gone. Simply gone. Holy crap, she was fast. And healed.

  The vamp drew two longswords and charged me, screaming something, rushing into the small space. Koun stepped in front of me. Batted the opponent’s swords away. And in a graceful, single cut, took his head. It flew into the air, blood pumping.

  Great. More blood on my clothes and pelt.

  In the hallway, three security members raced past, others lying on the floor where Ka had tossed them in her flight.

  The Glob cooled in my hand. The blood dripped. Blood spatter was everywhere.

  “Nice beheadings,” Quint said to us without emotion. “Economical.” It sounded like high praise.

  “Thanks.” Belatedly I said, “Ernestine killed herself in a failed attack on the Master of the City, Jane Yellowrock. The Dark Queen pronounced judgment and punishment upon Adan Bouvier for treason and the death by murder of Derek Lee, that murder committed within sight of the Queen. And the other one . . .” I frowned and looked to Koun.

  “He attacked the Dark Queen and drew swords without challenge. It was necessary to take his head.”

  “Yeah. That.”

  The security team gathered in the open door, figures in black on black, weaponed and armored up like a SWAT team. The three who had given chase ran back and joined the group, Aya among them; Aya sniffing, frowning, as if he smelled the same liver-eater stench I did.

  Sarah Spieth’s voice said into my earbud, “Ka vanished from the cameras, the lasers, everything.”

  Koun said, “Institute a full search and clearing of the entire building.”

  “Wait,” I said, holding up the dripping vamp-killer.

  No one moved.

  Ka disappeared? I plucked at the memory of Ka escaping, almost as if she was moving out of time-sequence. Had Ka just done a form of timewalking? The way I used to? And . . . If she had, did Ka begin to eat people as a way to stave off a magic cancer? Ka who was a skinwalker, an Onorio of some kind, and had eaten a red-headed vamp I didn’t know and had also eaten the Firestarter.

  She had eaten alive multiple kinds of sentient beings and gained their magical gifts. I closed my eyes, remembering the image of Ka stabbing Storm. In her other hand was something else. A cup. Ka had collected Storm’s blood.

  Seemingly unimportant events clicked into place, and my entire body tightened in something that felt like fury and battle readiness but was more than both.

  Long ago, Ka had stood in a witch circle formed of iron, set into the floor, holding a large iron spike. Ka had been killed. Forced through a transition that went beyond mere Onorio. All that took place while Sabina watched. Sabina who could timewalk too, though in a different manner from the one I had used. Sabina with a winged lizard-shaped amulet that incorporated arcenciel blood and scales. Holy moly.

  At that one single origin point of time, long ago, Sabina, Bethany, Adan, and Ka had been in the same space. They’d had the spike in their possession. Ka had been trying to bend time before Adan stabbed her with a sword.

  And then there was the Rule of Three. And we had Monique in the basement scion lair.

  “Belay that order, Koun.” I pulled my mic back to my mouth and said, “Sarah, tell me what you see on the scion lair cameras.”

  Sarah cursed and said softly. “The woman in the lair is gone, My Queen. The crew just got there. Checking back over footage and readouts.”

  I waited. The security crew waited. Blood dripped.

  “My Queen,” Sarah said, sounding pissed off. “She vanished into thin air.”

  Crap. “That’s what I figured.” Ka had timewalked from here to the lair and had taken Monique. There were again, two of the needed Onorios for the Rule of Three for whatever Onorio magic thingy they had planned. All they needed was Bruiser or one of the B-twins. “No one’s fault. She used magic. Think of it like a Star Trek transporter.” Because no way was I announcing to the entire security team about timewalking. “Ka isn’t here. Institute internal electronic search, just in case, and check the cameras on the street outside to see if she reappeared there. We need to deal with traitors before I do anything else.”

  I wiped the blade of my vamp-killer on an upholstered stool in the corner and sheathed it. Wh
en I looked up, Aya’s eyes were tracking from me to Quint to the bodies and heads. His expression changed from security to law enforcement and back, leaving him looking weirdly indecisive.

  “Dark Queen stuff, FireWind,” I said. “Raisin was working for Adan”—I pointed to the vamp’s body—“who was leading the assault, and she tried to kill a human.” I pointed at Quint. “And me. And that guy attacked the Dark Queen of Mithrans. My security dude”—I pointed my bloody sword at Koun—“took care of him. If you have questions, then I recommend you get the State Department and Congress to give us a final ruling on whether vamps who lived most of their lives in the U.S. are U.S. citizens or not. And check the law regarding humans working for undocumented vamps who try to kill other humans. But remind the political types that if paras and their ancient blood-servants are counted under U.S. law, they have to build jails for all the different strength levels, daylight requirements, full-moon shape changes, and meet the dietary standards for us all.” I grinned and paraphrased the old movie Jaws: “You’re gonna need a bigger police force.”

  Aya scowled.

  Into the mic, I said, “We need a cleanup crew in here, and put one on standby in the gym. Get the vamp funeral home people to take care of the bodies.”

  “Yes, My Queen,” The woman said into my ear. Sarah. Right. Nice raspy voice.

  “We need the heads, My Queen,” Koun said. He explained why.

  “Well, that’s gonna make a mess,” I said.

  * * *

  * * *

  Only moments before, we had left the humans and vamps in the foyer, and now we stood in front of the gym doors covered in explosive dust and gore. I was sure that I looked gruesome enough on my own, but this time I was preceded by a bloody Koun and a bloody diminutive blonde, dangling two heads by the hair in her left hand. Koun had assured me that the display was in keeping with vamp battle and war and would cause my enemies to quake. Blood was still dripping from the vamp heads, and I had been careful to step over bloody tracks and splatters, because gummy and dried blood would be really hard to get out of the fur between my toe pads.

  We could hear the noise of the vamps and humans inside. Koun looked us all over, said “My Queen,” and threw open the doors. He strode inside, Quint to his left.

  She held up the two heads. My lady-in-waiting and personal bodyguard had a gift for the theatrical. Then she shouted, “Behold the trophies of the Dark Queen and quiver in fear! Behold her enemies!”

  Well. That was a new one.

  The gym went instantly and weirdly quiet.

  * * *

  * * *

  The large space was set up for all kinds of training, sports, and fighting. It had basketball hoops, rubberized sword training circles, bleachers, and ways to set up for indoor tennis and shuffleboard. The cameras had been updated. Again. They were everywhere. Right now, the bleachers were full of spectators. Derek’s handpicked crew—my heart clenched, and I had to shove the grief down—the remaining Vodka Boys and Tequila Boys were holding weapons on a row of vamps and humans who were lying facedown on the wood floor. The armed crew were hard-faced and grieving, their expressions telling me that they wanted to shoot the entire bunch for just the possibility of being involved with Derek’s loss but were holding back. Most of the prone prisoners looked as if they hadn’t gone down willingly. I spotted Eli in a shooter’s position with a rifle in the far doorway.

  Chuffing, I let out a sigh. I spied Bruiser among one of Derek’s teams.

  “My Queen,” my Consort said, and bowed with a flourish that left me distinctly uncomfortable.

  The others in the room bowed too, except Derek’s team and my personal security, including Quint and Koun, who kept an eye on everyone else.

  I wondered what I was supposed to do in response and then decided since I was queen, I could do whatever I wanted. I gave Bruiser what I hoped was a regal nod. “My Consort,” I said.

  “Behold the enemies of the Dark Queen,” Quint said again, which had to be for emphasis since everyone had already seen the drippy heads.

  I started to stride closer, but Beast thought at me, I/we do not run. This is stalk. This is ambush hunt. Beast is not prey. Beast is best ambush hunter.

  Yeah. Right. I slowed and drew the vamp-killer, letting the soft shush of steel and silver slither through the air. With a measured tread, like what I’d use if I were still the vamp Enforcer, I walked along the line of trussed prisoners. Sniffing. Flehmen response. Loud. As I walked, the room, which had gone quiet when I entered, became deadly silent. No one moved. I walked to the end of the prone people, turned, and walked soundlessly back toward my starting point. Cat-silent. Making a spectacle of myself and my team, a visual power play, a threat to any who were part of the murders of Derek and Storm.

  My heart rate, which had been too fast since the explosion, began to settle. I had a purpose, a job to do. I studied every face. Breathed in their scents.

  Quint, bless her heart, walked beside me. Heads dripping. With her free hand, she was holding a sword. I had a feeling she wore her nails unpainted, pared straight with clippers, trimmed her hair with kitchen scissors, and would never ever ask me to go for mani-pedis. She could be invisible yet had a flair for the dramatic. I was starting to really like this woman.

  Koun stood at the doorway, a bloody giant of a man, two swords drawn, drying blood on one, his long blond hair loose and bloody too. Quint glanced at him, did a minuscule double take and returned her attention to the prisoners. But her scent changed. Quint might be a sociopath, but she had a strong sex drive. She was interested in Koun.

  Back at the beginning of the line, I stopped and said, “In this form, I can smell who drank from Rais—Ernestine and who fed her. I know your scents. Therefore I know your guilt.”

  The vamp prisoners—already still—froze.

  “Yeah,” I said, dropping the queenly verbiage. “I know everything.” I pointed at three vamps. “These three are lower-level followers. Haul them to the scion lair, lock ’em in cages, and leave them there for a while with armed guards. My most trusted Mithrans will bleed and read them, but they will not be fed. When the enemy vamp prisoners get hungry enough, they can decide if they want to swear to a new master, knowing they will be bound by my loyal vamps and integrated into the households at bottom feeder status. The rest of the fangheads? They smell of Adan Bouvier, Shaun MacLaughlinn, Ernestine . . .”

  I stopped. The blood scent was familiar.

  In Beast’s scent-brain, things, relationships, scent-concepts began to come together. Ugly dog, good nose, she thought at me.

  I knew that dogs could often scent who was related to whom in a household, and they used that scent to figure out which humans to protect and who to obey and which human was the strongest. They could trace that familial scent. In the same way, the part of Beast’s brain recognized whose family this blood odor came from. Crap. This was going to be dicey. I waved Quint away. “Alex, are you on comms?”

  “Affirmative,” he said into my ears.

  “You put a surveillance system in Ernestine’s office,” I said, for the benefit of the gathered. “Will you play a little of the most recent convos over the HQ speaker system?”

  Alex said, “Yes, My Queen. They’re lined up and ready to play. The most recent, first.”

  Adan’s voice came over the speakers. “Did you find it?”

  Raisin answered, “No. But the creature did. It was in his desk. She has it at her home now. Using the blood, you can take it from her, you and your Firestarter.”

  My brain locked up for a second, then flashed into overdrive.

  They were talking about the arcenciel blood that Ka collected during the battle, and the locket, which Leo had thought might be important. I glanced at Bruiser and he nodded. The locket was safe. And . . . Ah. The locket was why they had attacked me at my home and not on the road. That and all the other goodies h
idden there. Killing Storm and taking her blood must have been an added bonus. But . . . Ka had been bitten by the dying arcenciel, and the venom of the rainbow dragons was toxic. Ka might not be as stable as she once was. And someone had rescued her. Who?

  Adan said, “We must have it, as well as the remains of the spike. Sabina hid everything before the fire. We must reacquire it all.”

  Raisin said, “The creature must be removed. Once she is gone, the amulets and icons are ours. Take her.”

  “With the locket and the dragon’s blood collected during the battle,” Adan said, “Ka will become my weapon. With the spike, she and your Onorios will be able to restore Mithran control of the Council of Mithrans. And when Shaun takes the creature’s head, the crown will release and accept Ka as its new master.”

  I held up a hand, knowing that Alex was watching on the cameras. The audio cut off.

  Ka, Adan Bouvier, and Shaun might be able to hold on to the vamp political world if le breloque accepted her as Queen. If I let any of the twisted, layered, betraying plans succeed, my people would suffer and die. All of the spectators’ eyes were focused on me as I let the hush build. The memory of arcenciel fangs in Ka’s neck flashed through me. I had to wonder how that was gonna impact the layered vamp / Gramma plans to betray vamps and take my place. A worry for later.

  One of the vamps on the floor made an attempt to leap up and run. The closest guard kicked her feet from under her, flipped her over and staked her in the belly.

  Though I hated to be one of the monsters, I had to play the part and play it well.

  So I laughed. My laughter was part growl, part predator, the big-cat kind that tore into live prey and ate the innards while they still kicked. A couple of the prisoners shuddered. I held up a finger again, twirling it to continue.