by Ally Shields
“I suppose you’ve come to pump me about the Jane Doe X case. Sure, why not?” She took a bite of her sandwich, washed it down with half of the milk, and the hunger pangs immediately subsided.
“An X? So the victim’s an Otherworlder. Can I get a photo or description? Maybe I can help you identify her.”
Ari shrugged. “Nymph female. Young, blonde. Talk to Ryan about the particulars. He won’t give you a photo of a dead body, but maybe the sketch artist can do something, and Doc can give you exact height and weight, if you want it.”
“She’s not from around here?” He was already scribbling notes on a pad from his shirt pocket.
“Not as far as we can tell.”
Knowing he’d read the police report anyway, she gave him a very general description of the victim’s injuries and the undetermined cause of death.
“Was she killed by another Otherworlder?”
“Are you going to print my answer?”
He sighed and shook his head. “Not without collaboration.”
“Then yes, a magic user was involved, but I have no idea who, what, or why.”
He paused his scribbling and frowned. “A dead body is found in a cornfield, and that’s all you can give me? That’s enough copy for one paragraph on page five.”
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”
He put his notebook away. “You must have been hungry,” he remarked, glancing at her empty plate.
“I was. This baby needs a lot of fuel.” She sat back and patted her stomach. “That should keep both of us going until dinner.”
Eddie grinned. “I’ve never see you so…girlie.” When she raised a brow, he added, “You know, soft. I can tell you like the idea of being a mom. It’s just not a role I’d previously associated with you.”
“I suppose not, but a baby changes you.” Ari pursed her lips. “It makes me think about things I hadn’t considered before—how much sleep I get, my diet, what the future will bring.”
“Yeah, grown-up stuff. Maybe someday I’ll be ready for that.” He rose. “I have to get back to the office. I’ll try to run a piece asking for the public’s help on an ID.” He started to leave, then looked back. “By the way, your kid’s lucky to have you.”
“Thanks, Eddie.” Ari flashed him a smile and dutifully drank the rest of her milk.
When she left the diner a few minutes later, the sunny day had turned cloudy. Ari hurried toward Club Dintero. Andreas should be in his office, and she hoped to set up a visit to Zylla before he was immersed in the supper club’s daily business.
She’d gone less than a block when the sky noticeably darkened. Her skin prickled with awareness, and she looked round uneasily. Loud birdcalls brought her to a stop.
Five crows perched on a cable wire strung high across the street. Watching. Just like her dream last night.
Swept by a fierce wave of protectiveness, she narrowed her eyes, and one hand dropped to touch the top of her belly. Nothing would harm her child. She brought up her fingers, relishing the familiar rush as her fire magic sparked from the tips.
Another caw in the distance, and the birds took flight. They circled once overhead and flew away. Ari slowly lowered her hands, her gaze following the crows’ flight. Ordinary birds. Maybe.
She glanced around self-consciously to see if anyone had observed her odd behavior. No one was staring. But, geez, she was getting jumpy.
By the time she reached Club Dintero’s canopied entrance, the clouds had blown over, and the sun was shining again as if nothing had happened.
CHAPTER FOUR
Andreas sat at his office desk, his head bent in thought. He sighed and frowned. What could he do to ease Arianna’s tension? He’d felt her fear just moments ago—their telepathic link concealed very little—but even before he could get out the door, she’d relaxed again. A false alarm. This hypervigilance she’d displayed since the start of the latest murder case couldn’t be good for her or for the baby. Perhaps she should take that leave of absence now.
His phone rang, once, twice. He frowned at it, some instinct making him reluctant to answer. “Club Dintero. How may I help you?”
“If only it was that easy to gain your compliance.”
Andreas stiffened, recognizing the haughty voice. “Bastian.” His own tone took on an icy edge. “How modern of you to call. I thought you usually delivered messages through assassins and other bringers of death. What do you want?”
A deep chuckle. “That is more what I expected from you.” The vampire elder paused and when he spoke again, the moment of humor was gone. “You hold many false assumptions about me, Andreas, based on a past I have put behind me. I am a businessman now with widespread holdings. I also have access to an excellent intelligence network.” A slight pause. “Have you and your witch found a way to defy nature? Is Arianna carrying your child?”
Andreas was taken aback. Apparently news not only traveled fast but far. “How is that of concern to you?”
“A vampire baby has to—”
“There is no vampire baby. As we have explained repeatedly.” Andreas pushed his desk chair back and stood, running the fingers of one hand through his hair. He wanted nothing more than to tell Bastian to get lost, but he needed to stop the rumors. “If you recall, Arianna was absent during much of our meeting last January in Toronto. She had time-traveled to 1813, and our child was conceived in that moment in history…before I was transformed to vampirism. There is no mystery, just an ordinary pregnancy.”
“Hardly ordinary.” Bastian paused, as if he were assessing the truth of what Andreas had said. “Extraordinary, in fact. And just strange enough to be true. I’m inclined to believe you, but you should put an end to the gossip. The other elders have interpreted the news as another sign of rebellion, that you are establishing a new, superior race of vampires who would challenge our authority.”
“I have tried to dispel the rumors,” Andreas snapped.
“Try harder. Your enemies are gaining strength. Some of the council suspect they’ve been deceived, that you remain a threat to them. So far it’s only rumblings, but if they go so far as to openly question my earlier assessment, it will not bode well for either you or me.”
“I couldn’t care less what happens to you,” Andreas said. “But I will do anything necessary to protect Arianna and my child. What will convince them?”
“I don’t have the answer, and it may already be too late.” Bastian’s usually bored tones held a note of concern. “They are hiding something…even from me.”
“Your problem, not mine. I’m not getting in the middle of O-Seven politics.” Andreas nodded to himself. Now he’d figured out Bastian’s motivation for this call. The elder was worried his influence over the council was slipping. Well, Bastian had made the decision to deceive Porbius and the other elders about events in Toronto, and Andreas refused to feel indebted to him.
“Don’t underestimate my colleagues, Andreas.”
The line went dead.
Andreas frowned in frustration. As if he would ever take the elders lightly. He was still scowling at the phone in his hand when Arianna walked in.
“Bad day?” she asked.
“Not until a few minutes ago.” He placed the phone on his desk. “Bastian just called me.”
She froze, her eyes going wide. “Why? What’s he want with you?”
“Nothing to worry about.” He smiled to reassure her, tugged her into his arms, and smoothed her hair. “He was just being nosy and asked about the rumor of a vampire baby. I set him straight.”
“Was he satisfied?”
“I think so.”
She pulled back and looked at him. “Then why are you so tense?”
He made an effort to relax. Damn the link. If he shut it down, she’d know for sure something was wrong. “After our past experiences, is it surprising that any contact from the elders would put me on edge?”
“No, I guess not.” She gave him a rueful look. “I’ve been a little un
easy myself thinking they might be involved in this latest murder.”
“I’ve noticed.” He tightened his arms. “What happened a few minutes ago?”
“Just jumpy.” When he waited expectantly, she offered a little more. “I saw some crows and got creeped out. It was nothing. So why did Bastian really call?”
Andreas noted her easy dismissal of her fears but obligingly reverted to the subject of Bastian. “I believe he is worried about his credibility with the council. When he changed Porbius’s memories and lied about it, he tied his well-being to ours. It places him in an untenable position.” He shot her a wry smile. “I rather enjoyed his discomfort.”
Ari listened to Andreas talk about Bastian and studied his face. He was more worried than he was letting on. He’d managed to lessen the flow of nervous energy across their link, but she knew her husband well enough to recognize the other signs. His aristocratic Italian features were schooled into a bland expression, but his long, dark lashes blinked more frequently than usual and his jaw was set a little firmer. The muscles across his chest and shoulders rippled with tension under the smooth silk of his dark blue shirt.
She slid her hands over those muscles, drawing his eyes to her face. “You’re not fooling me, you know. Bastian wouldn’t have called unless real trouble was brewing.” She sighed. “We knew they wouldn’t leave us alone forever, but I wish things had stayed quiet until our child was born.”
He gave her a pointed look. “At the first proof the elders are conspiring against us, you are leaving Riverdale, going into hiding. I will not debate this, Arianna.”
“I’m not arguing.”
His brows shot up. “Why not?”
A smile curled her mouth. “The baby’s safety.” She stood on her toes and leaned her forehead against his. “I’ll do what I have to, no matter how much I hate it. Even run and hide if necessary.”
“You always surprise me.” His brushed his lips against her cheek. “No matter how much it goes against your instincts, for the next few months let me fight our battles.” He stepped back, gave her a provocative grin, and waved the hand that bore the Valvano emerald ring. “I need a chance to show off my new warlock skills.”
Ari rolled her eyes at him. He was kidding…mostly, but he must be eager to test his new abilities. His powers had developed quickly since January when she’d returned his family talisman. After two hundred years as a vampire, he was adjusting to the fact he’d also inherited powerful witch magic, a legacy unsuspected until his family’s Book of Shadows was discovered a year ago.
But he wasn’t the only one who’d prepared for this inevitable day. Heeding the warnings of other witches against relying solely on her fire magic, Ari had worked with the other major elements. She’d spent six weekends in St. Louis studying advanced magic with her witch-mentor, Moriana, and she’d built on the tentative mastery of air, water, and earth she’d begun in Germany. Even in her own critical view, the training had gone well.
“Don’t be so cocky.” She smirked at him. “You’re still just a rookie. I have a whole new bag of tricks and can still whip your ass.”
His eyes glittered. “Any time, my love. I would very much enjoy having you try.”
“Really?” She arched a brow but gently pushed him away, satisfied their banter had lightened the mood. “We’ll discuss that at a better time. Right now, I want to talk with Zylla. Do you have time to take me or should I find Gabriel?”
“I shall make time to see both of my best girls.”
They stepped into the hallway, he told Marcus, his assistant club manager, they’d be gone a couple of hours, and they headed for the Mississippi River cliffs that hid the Vampire Caverns.
Andreas’s other “girl” was an eight-hundred-year-old vampiress who’d been bitten at the age of seventy-eight. Like all vampires, she retained her outward appearance at the time of transformation and would never look any younger than someone’s grandmother. Before the fateful encounter with her vampire sire, Zylla had been a witch and fought against the O-Seven in the early vampire/witch wars of 1329. For the last hundred years, she’d lived in the caverns under Riverdale’s Olde Town and magically surrounded herself with the familiar settings from her past.
She sat in front of a magical fire and occasionally stirred the contents of two black cauldrons. Her constant companion, Mangi, a teenage werejavelina, read to her from an e-reader.
“No, no, no.” Zylla shook her head vigorously. “Can they not get any part of history right? It wasn’t witches. It was demons.” She sighed. “Come in, Andreas, Arianna. No need to stand in the doorway. You are always welcome.” She gestured for them to be seated beside the fire. “My young friend has been reading to me about the Salem incidents. Why do witches always get the blame?”
Andreas took her hand and kissed it lightly. “Recorded history is rarely accurate, since it is usually written by those who were never there. You look beautiful as ever, Zylla.”
“Incorrigible liar.” But she smiled at him and nodded to Ari, as they seated themselves.
Mangi stood to put the book away and fixed four cups of tea. The half-boy, half-hog-like javey wasn’t much to look at, but under Zylla’s tutelage, his personality had blossomed. Unlike other javeys, he was civilized, mostly—after all, he was still a teenage boy. He’d also saved Claris’s life last year, and Ari gave him a big grin and a wink. He blushed.
“What brings you here today?” Zylla asked. “Did you come for tea or seeking answers?”
“A little of both,” Ari admitted. She told her about the crows and the attack on the nymph. “It could be a coincidence, but—”
Zylla was already shaking her head. “No, dear, you must trust your instincts.” She clasped her fingers in her lap. “I have seen them, large flocks that darken the sky.”
Ari leaned forward. “Another vision? So Olde Town is in danger. Are more crows coming? Will they attack the town?” Zylla’s prophetic abilities had faded over time, and her visions were no longer perfect but always held a glimpse of the truth.
“Visions are not always specific. A dark force is coming. It could mean one crow, one enemy, or many.”
“Who controls the crows? Are the elders behind this?” Andreas leaned protectively toward Ari.
“I sense their presence, but I have only seen the crows.” The old woman shook her head. “I wish the images were more clear.”
Ari frowned. She couldn’t run around zapping every crow she saw. “I’ve seen several crows around town. How do I know which ones are evil?”
Andreas jerked his head to look at her. “You haven’t mentioned other sightings.”
“Just once or twice and nothing happened,” she protested. “Crows are common in the Midwest. I didn’t see anything magical about them.”
“You might not,” Zylla cautioned. “Crows who have been called emit no magical trail. While they’re controlled by an enchantment, the link is a slight one, undetectable unless you touch a possessed creature.” She pursed her lips as her gaze rested on Ari. “You should be guided by their behavior.”
Great. So she needed to suspect every crow until proven innocent. And she’d be doing a special cleansing for the baby’s sake every time she saw one. Claris had better stock up on sage.
“The large crow you saw at the death scene is a different matter entirely. Dark magic will be strong in him. As for who is behind this…” Zylla sipped the tea that Mangi had set before her, then shrugged. “I’ve been surprised the elders have ignored you this long.”
“Which of them can call crows?” Andreas asked.
Zylla shook her head and frowned up at the rocky ceiling. “There’s an old tale about a crow enchantment. I no longer remember the details. Too many of my memories as a witch are gone.” She flashed him an enigmatic smile. “There was a crow attack in 1331, a couple of years into the great war, that devastated an entire coven. I assume it was controlled by the elders, but I cannot be more specific.”
“What about their ot
her abilities?” Ari asked. “We’ve been trying to prepare for what they might do next, but we don’t know a whole lot about them.”
“No one does,” the vampiress conceded. “It was common knowledge that Bastian was a master of mind control, and Fiorosom had almost Atlas-like strength. There were rumors of invisibility, walking through walls, any number of things, all unsubstantiated, which I won’t even repeat. After I became a vampire, I kept my distance from the O-Seven court. You probably know more about them than I do.”
“I wish I did. But maybe it won’t matter quite yet. The nymph’s death might have nothing to do with them,” Ari said.
“If you believe that, then why are you here?” Zylla’s gaze was steady. Ari gave a halfhearted shrug, and the vampiress continued. “Until the situation is clear, you should heed the warnings.” She peered at Ari. “You’ve had them, have you not?”
“Warnings?” Ari hesitated. “No, not really. Only a dream, a nightmare.” Andreas looked at her in concern. “It was right after the murder. It wasn’t prophetic or anything.”
Zylla’s sudden cackle lacked humor. “Arianna, witches don’t just have dreams.”
Ari wrinkled her brows. She was pretty sure she’d had one or two, but at the moment she couldn’t think of any.
She changed the subject. “What about your other visions? Are you still having the one about the big apocalypse?” She heard the tinge of disbelief in her voice even before Andreas nudged her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound disrespectful.”
Zylla pulled a shawl more tightly around her shoulders. “I understand. My visions are flawed. But the devastation I foresaw remains in your future. The efforts you have made have only delayed what is coming.”
Ari swallowed hard. She wanted to ignore Zylla’s words, reject the awful future she’d predicted, but no matter how vague or distorted, the vampiress’ past visions had come true. When she’d warned that someone close to Ari was at risk, their friend Brando had died and Andreas had nearly died. And a few months ago, when Zylla had first seen images of a terrible confrontation, they’d barely averted a worldwide vampire war.
