by Ally Shields
Andreas stiffened, recognizing the voice. He gave a harsh laugh. “Did you expect that I would?”
“I expect only treachery from you.”
“I think that should be my line.” Andreas leaned forward and made a production of peering toward the crypt. “Why do you continue to hide from me? Are you afraid?”
“Do I look afraid?” A dark shadow throwing off waves of vampiric power sprang into the moonlight.
Porbius’s face twisted with hatred. The hounds licked their lips, gave a high-pitched howl, and leaped forward. The elder’s fist of vampiric power knocked Andreas across the cemetery and against the fence. Gunfire erupted from the wolves in the trees. Andreas raised a barrier to hold off the hounds and deflect a second surge of power from Porbius. He leaped over a marble statue and out of reach. Then he staggered and grabbed his head with both hands. Porbius had launched a full-blown psychic attack.
The pressure on Andreas’s mind nearly brought him to his knees.
“Steffan, show your weapons!” he shouted. He forced himself to ignore the debilitating pain, straightened, and dropped his hands. “Porbius, look around you. Even your body will not heal from the kind of damage they can inflict. Call off the hounds.”
A dozen armed werewolves dropped out of trees and emerged from ditches with RPGs and two flamethrowers.
“You underestimate me, Andreas. These weapons will never touch me.”
But Andreas sensed the hesitation. Porbius wasn’t sure.
Never lacking for false displays of chutzpah, the elder swaggered forward, his long cape flowing around him. He gestured to the hounds, and they fell silent. “You, on the other hand, are already weakening. I can feel it.” He held out his hand, curving his fingers into a fist. “I could crush your heart just like this.”
Andreas struggled to keep his composure under the magical onslaught. He could block part of it but not all. “What do you want?”
“Your murdering witch…and the abomination of your seed, the would-be hope for a superior vampire species.” The elder spat the words, his lips forming a snarl that revealed bulging fangs. “I might consider sparing you, if you tell me where she is.”
“You’re pathetic, Porbius. It’s gossip, lies. The child is a full-blooded witch.” Andreas’s eyes glinted. “You will never find them.”
“It is only a matter of when and where.”
Andreas knew his opponent. Porbius was vain, pompous, a self-indulgent braggart. He was also indecisive when faced with the unexpected.
“Now, Steffan!” Andreas dropped to the ground and rolled until his back touched the iron fencing. The wolves opened fire, and the hellhounds scattered, some attacking, others escaping over the cemetery fence. Those that stayed were riddled with bullets and incinerated.
Porbius leaped clear of the action and crouched on top of a massive crypt. Andreas recovered his feet and raced toward him. The wolves stopped firing abruptly, and Gabriel burst through the gate followed by vampires, weretigers, and werewolves.
Andreas looked up in time to see Porbius pull something from his pocket that flashed in the moonlight. The elder vanished. Glistening black wings spread out, and an enormous crow rose above the trees. It streaked into the dark night.
“Porbius is the crow? I don’t believe it. How can he do that?” Gabriel came to a halt beside Andreas.
“Did you see the flash?” Andreas stared up at the empty sky.
“I did. He has one of the crystal shards,” Steffan said as he joined them. “One of the Mahmo pieces.”
Gabriel looked bewildered. “Then why hasn’t he used it before? Like in Toronto.”
Andreas nodded. “Excellent point. He would have, if he’d had it. This is a new development since Toronto, which may be where Volucris comes into this. I’m not sure exactly how or why.” Andreas flipped his hair off his forehead and looked around. “This isn’t the place to discuss it. Porbius may be fool enough or tenacious enough to return.” He frowned. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting to see him.”
After sending the others home, Andreas, his two lieutenants, and Steffan convened in the office at Club Dintero. They had an order delivered from the bar. Steffan reversed an oak chair and straddled it with one arm resting across the back, his other hand held a beer. The vampires each held a glass of wine. Oliver sat on the couch, frown lines etched across his rugged features, Gabriel leaned against the wall, and Andreas was up and down, too restless to stay anywhere for long. They hashed over several theories regarding Volucris—why and how he was involved—but without more information the speculation soon died.
“You know,” Steffan said after finishing his first bottle of beer. “I find it damned scary that Porbius is after your child.”
“Tell me about it.” Andreas eased onto the corner of his desk. “Not only my child but my wife too.”
“He used the words murdering witch,” Gabriel said. “Was that just smack talk or was it significant?”
“You mean referring to the death of Ursula?” Steffan asked in surprise. “I thought that was hushed up, and that Bastian had wiped Porbius’s memory. Who would—or could—tell him the truth?”
“There is one.” Andreas stood and paced across the room, thinking aloud. “When Ursula came to Riverdale, she left her wereraptor and vampire guards in Toronto, but they knew where she was. After her death, Daron and his people found and disposed of all but one raptor. They eventually gave up looking. He wasn’t likely to return to Germany knowing his failure to protect her would be punished by torture and death, but…” He stopped and gave his companions a bleak look. “There was always a risk that the O-Seven would find him.”
Andreas went to the cabinet, refilled his glass of Chianti from the open wine bottle, and returned to sit behind his desk. “How Porbius discovered the truth isn’t all that important, but I believe he knows.”
“Then he’s out for revenge, and he’s not going to quit.” Gabriel punctuated his words by slapping his palm loudly against the wall.
“Whoa, save the build—” Steffan was interrupted when Russell and Lilith burst through the door.
“Is everything OK?” Russell demanded. He took in the small group. “We didn’t realize you were back. Are we interrupting?”
When Andreas merely sighed, Gabriel admitted the wall thump had been his frustration. “It’s been that kind of an evening.” He filled in the details, ending with the abrupt departure of Porbius and the last hellhounds.
Russell grinned. “So superior firepower took care of them?” The werelion pumped a fist. “Hoorah. Way to go.”
“This isn’t a moment to celebrate.” Andreas surged to his feet, his face grim, his voice curt. “This was only a warning. Under pressure Porbius couldn’t think his way out of a one-way street, but don’t judge Lucris by him. This was not a victory.”
Awkward silence followed the rebuke, and Steffan stood. “I should go. Jena will be wondering where I am.” He gave a half smile. “She wasn’t happy staying home, but I didn’t want to leave the house unguarded.”
Andreas drew and exhaled a deep breath. “No, don’t go. I apologize for my temper. If only Porbius would target me, forget about Arianna and my child…” He drained his wineglass and looked at Russell. “I should not have spoken so harshly.”
“And I should think before I let my mouth run. But I don’t underestimate any of the elders.”
“Speaking of the others…” Andreas cocked his head. “I left a message for Bastian, and he hasn’t called. I wonder if he is playing hard to get or if he didn’t want to risk tipping me to Porbius’s presence.” He dug his phone out of his jeans’ pocket and input Bastian’s number. Voice mail again.
Had the elder lost interest in the Riverdale situation? Andreas’s jaw hardened. Or was the truth something more sinister? Maybe Lucris was another smoke screen or only part of the answer. Could Bastian be the true mastermind behind Porbius?
* * *
Twenty-four hours later, Andreas was in his
office again, leaning back in his chair with his feet crossed on the desk. He’d just come from the caverns, after making a complete circuit of the city to cover Arianna’s patrols for her. Since he’d twice crossed paths with Tom Bodie, the temporary guardian, it wasn’t really necessary, but any action took the edge off.
His door was closed, ostensibly because the club was open to the general public this evening and his jeans weren’t appropriate club attire. In truth, he wanted to be left alone.
The music of the band filtered through his door. Given the events of the last two nights, it was too soon to be back in business. The community was far from safe, but the mayor and city council didn’t see it that way. With the crows gone, they’d begged business owners to return to normal. So he had…or some semblance of it.
He sighed, dropped his feet to the floor, and headed for the wine cabinet. He should call Arianna, tell her about his meeting with Porbius, but it would be hard to keep her from rushing home. He needed a plan.
He poured the Chianti into a glass and carried it back to his desk. She couldn’t come home; he couldn’t go there. Strange how the child had already changed their lives.
And given them new purpose. His lips curved in a smile. He would no longer be the last of his line. His Italian family had a future. An heir to the estate.
Unless the O-Seven had their way…
His smile faded. He grabbed his phone and thumbed redial. Bastian was still avoiding his call, but he knew how to be persistent.
No response—again.
He picked up the top sheet in a stack of billing receipts that needed to be checked off in the club’s ledgers. Might as well do something useful while he waited. Fifteen minutes later, he tried the phone again, and fifteen minutes after that. He straightened when the call went through.
“This must be terribly important or you have taken up stalking.” Bastian sounded amused. “What can I do for you, Andreas?”
“Why didn’t you tell me Porbius was coming here?”
“Is that where he is?”
“I think he blames Arianna for Ursula. He referred to her as a ‘murdering’ witch.”
Bastian’s voice still carried an undertone of humor. “Well, you have to admit, she doesn’t shy away from violence. That is one of the things I like about her. But you seem to believe he has found some proof of his suspicions. Is that possible?”
“We’ve told you—”
“Yes, I know what you’ve said, but it is obvious to me Ursula died in Riverdale, and I can only conclude that one or both of you killed her. Porbius may have learned something that contradicted the suspicions I planted against the wereraptors.” He paused. “In retrospect, that might not have been an ideal solution. I knew he was looking for the creatures. If he found them, could they have told him the truth?”
Andreas scowled at the phone and sighed with resignation. It was a little late for denials. “It would only be a guess.”
“Ah, so her guards weren’t present. Then either suspicion was enough, or someone betrayed you. Porbius is not clever in most things, but he can be inventive in obtaining information by torture. Are any of your people missing?”
“No.” But he couldn’t account for everyone who was there that day. The German witches had been present, and Andreas hadn’t talked to Sophistrina, the coven leader, in almost a year.
“How did Porbius fly into Riverdale without you knowing?” Bastian asked.
“He didn’t fly commercial,” Andreas said dryly. “He came as a crow.”
“A crow.” Bastian fell silent.
The word seemed to echo across the line. Andreas lifted his brows in surprise. Bastian was honestly taken aback…or disturbed…or perhaps both.
“Now I understand your urgency.” A long pause. “Porbius does not have that kind of ability. He had to have help.”
“You mean Volucris? The winged creature? We already figured that out.”
“You’ve done your research. Not many realize our Luc has the power of the crow.” Bastian’s tone hinted at uncertainty. “But I’m mystified why the dark one would align himself with Porbius. An unlikely alliance. The deadly and the…well, you have met Porbius. What would you call him? Ineffective?”
“I would not dare.”
Bastian gave a mirthless chuckle. “Nevertheless, if they have teamed up, it is Luc you need to fear. He isn’t called the dark one only for his coloring. It’s for the bleakness of his soul…or whatever soul he has stolen this week.”
Andreas froze. “He’s a soul sucker?”
“A very rare form of psychic vampire.”
Andreas struggled to keep his voice level. “Could he be here with Porbius but staying in the background?”
“He isn’t there physically, if that’s what you’re asking. Luc hasn’t left the court for months. He could probably extend his mental reach that far, but it would be of limited effectiveness. Of course, if he used Porbius…” Bastian paused and seemed to change the track of his thinking. “He definitely can’t share his shapeshifter ability, so how… Ah, of course. He gave him the crystal.”
“One of the shards, you mean,” Andreas clarified, growing tired of Bastian’s thinking aloud without explaining.
Bastian’s breath hissed. “Shades of hell,” he muttered. “You have done your homework.”
“Yes, but it wasn’t necessary. I saw the Mahmo shard in Porbius’s hands.”
“Saw it? An artifact that Volucris has concealed for centuries? Porbius is an incompetent fool. Can’t even get evil right.”
Andreas frowned. Bastian’s disgust for Porbius was covering some other emotion.
“Luc will be furious,” the elder continued. “If he complains to the council, this entire affair could unravel.”
“By entire affair, I assume you’re going all the way back to Ursula and your little deception in Toronto. The council would discover you’d lied to them, and you could be censured…or worse.” Andreas finally understood the reason for Bastian’s discomfort.
“I merely minimized the threat,” Bastian corrected. “It benefited everyone. You should be grateful, since I did it for you.”
“Let’s not waste time lying to one another. You did it for yourself. Out of curiosity, how much trouble would you face?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” Bastian was brusque. “But imagine what will descend upon Riverdale, if the rest of the elders are angry enough to destroy you. And everyone around you.”
Before Andreas could respond, the connection died. Bastian had hung up on him.
Andreas clenched his jaw, his hand squeezing the phone until he heard the plastic crack. He dropped it on the desk and closed his eyes, slowly shaking his head. Anger wouldn’t help. Nor would panic. Perhaps there was time to head off disaster. If Porbius was in Riverdale, he wasn’t in Germany stirring up the elders’ council. Andreas needed to talk with Daron…and Gabriel and Oliver.
He expelled a deep sigh. How much should he tell Arianna? And when? He didn’t want her running back to Riverdale. He retrieved his phone and checked his missed messages. Her face popped onto the screen. She’d already called. The when had turned into now.
He steeled himself and hit return. “Good morning, Arianna. Are you awake early or unable to sleep?”
“I woke up and suddenly missed you.”
“I miss you too, but I hope you’re getting enough sleep.”
“Yeah, I am, but is everything OK? You sound a little off, like you’re being careful.”
Damn, she was too perceptive. He forced a chuckle. “Always suspicious. You’re just afraid of missing something.”
“Andreas?” She sounded determined now. “Don’t stall while you decide how much to tell me. Spill it.”
“Very well, but keep in mind you’re carrying our child.” He started with the obvious. “Porbius is in Riverdale.”
“Oh crap. Have you seen him? What’s he done now?”
He told her about the meeting with Porbius and parts of the conv
ersation with Bastian. She might read between the lines, but he tried to keep it from sounding catastrophic.
“Bastian was reluctant to talk about Volucris, but he finally confirmed everything we suspected, including his possession of a Mahmo shard. There was something we didn’t know…Luc’s a psychic vampire.” He heard Ari suck in her breath. “Don’t get too worried yet. He’s still in Germany, not here. Bastian has seen and talked to him. As long as he stays there, I can handle Porbius, cara mia.”
Ari swore under her breath. “You’re afraid I’m coming home, aren’t you? Believe me, it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to jump in the car and start driving north.” Her voice broke. “But I know I can’t.”
“Are you crying? Arianna?” He put down the phone and opened their telepathic link, wrapping her in the warmth of his magic.
“Please do not cry, my love. You must keep the two of you safe. Nothing will happen to me. Trust me, cara mia.”
“I do, but I don’t trust the O-Seven. I’m so scared for you.”
“And I for you. But we have escaped their plots before.”
“Somehow this time it feels different.”
Yes, there was no way to go back to the status quo. The dispute with the elders had to be settled. Permanently. “We will find a way to do whatever has to be done.”
“I know. What choice do we have?”
What choice indeed? After they said good night and closed the link, Andreas sat lost in thought. He had made Arianna a promise. Now he needed to find a way to keep it.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Ari couldn’t sleep after her predawn conversation with Andreas. She pulled on jeans and a T-shirt and slipped outside to Moriana’s garden. It was peaceful there. Warm air brushed against her skin; nightbirds stirred in the dogwood tree. As she wandered down the center path, the sun was drawing pink fingers in the sky.
In contrast to the garden’s serenity, her thoughts tumbled around defying sensible order. If only she knew what to do. How to keep everyone safe. She reached the center of the garden and sank onto a stone bench. Tears dampened her cheeks. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her head with both hands. Despair washed over her.
