B R Kingsolver - [Rosie O'Grady's Paranormal Bar and Grill 02] - Night Stalker

by Kingsolver

  Taking my drink, I climbed the stairs to the mezzanine and took a table near Eileen’s normal roped-off table. I watched the people in the main room below me, their actions and interactions. The club was barely a quarter full, but it was early. We hadn’t heard of any violence there the night before, and Michaela told me it wasn’t a target for her forces. But I was sure business would be off as those in the know kept their heads down.

  One of the staff—a vampire woman who looked about fifty—came to me after about half an hour.

  “May I help you with anything?” she asked.

  “Oh, no. I’m just waiting for Eileen.”

  “Miss Montgomery isn’t expected this evening.”

  “Okay. I’ll wait until you close, then come back tomorrow. I have time.”

  Her face showed that she was wrestling with what to do with me. “Are you expected?”

  I gave her a smile. “I try not to be. Surprises are so much fun, don’t you think?”

  “May I have your name?”

  “Erin McLane.”

  She went away. I nursed my drink, not wanting to buy another weak, over-priced, poorly-mixed concoction. Sam would fire me if I ever put something like it in the hands of a customer. Hell, considering our customers, he wouldn’t have to. The customer would probably light me on fire.

  I waited for another forty-five minutes before Eileen showed up. Instead of taking her preferred seat where she could survey her domain, she sat down across from me. Her face betrayed amusement.

  “You unsettle my staff,” she said.

  I held up my drink. “I would like to do more than that to your bartender. This is terrible.”

  Eileen laughed. “Most of my customers don’t have refined palates.”

  “They won’t have any palate at all after drinking a few of these. Are you distilling the booze in your back room?”

  “Shhh. The Liquor Control Board might take you seriously.” She grinned. “No, but it is the cheapest vodka on the market. I think their main market is university fraternities. And to what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “You didn’t have any trouble here last night?” I asked.

  “No, thank God and the devil. I heard about the mess downtown. Poor George is probably having to stay in a hotel. Both his restaurant and his apartment building are total disasters.”

  “There’s an ancient one in town.” I had been running different ways of breaking it to her around in my head, and finally decided that short and sweet was best. There was no way to sugarcoat the news.

  Eileen stared at me, her expression frozen. Finally, she blinked.

  “You’re sure.”

  I nodded. “I’ve met him. Unfortunately, he’s decided that I should be his messenger girl. He says he wants to end the bloodshed and stabilize Westport. He also says it is your choice as to whether you die the final death.” I shrugged. “I guess you do have the option to leave.”

  “Such a sweet-looking girl, but you say some of the vilest things.”

  “I know. I find it distasteful as well. If it was up to me, I wouldn’t be here at all. He has me boxed in as badly as he has you.” I handed her a piece of paper with Laurent’s name and phone number. “Do you know where I can find George? I tried his cell phone, and it goes to voice mail.”

  “Gabriel Laurent? French?”

  “Yes, but he’s been living in Austria the past seven hundred years or so. The Europeans are rather cosmopolitan. Lately, he’s been on the Grand Tour, but he says he’s tired of traveling and wants to settle down.”

  “I’m not sure where George is,” she said. “I can give you a few possibilities to try.”

  “I would appreciate that.” I pulled a restaurant order pad and pen out of my pocket and pushed them across the table.

  “Are you in touch with Gallagher’s dhampir?” Eileen asked.

  “I spoke with Michaela earlier today. She’s made an alliance with one of the wolf packs and taken back control of her business.”

  “Tell her I said hello, and that I wish her luck. If we all survive this dreadful business, we shall all have to get together for a girls’ night out.”

  She took the pen and pad and wrote for a few minutes.

  “A couple of these may be dangerous to approach,” she said, “depending on whether Rodrick is covering them. I put a star by the place I think is most likely, but past there, it’s anyone’s guess. I assume you plan to offer the same option to George?”

  “Yes. Also to Rodrick, but I have no idea how to do that. I may be good, but walking into Carleton House strikes me as a particularly bad idea.”

  “That’s because you’re not a complete idiot. Rodrick invited me to dinner earlier this week, but I had to wash my hair.”

  I laughed.

  “Good luck, Miss McLane,” she said as she stood and made her exit.

  I used the GPS on my fancy new smartphone and discovered the first place Montgomery had suggested I look for Flynn was nowhere near public transportation. So I used the other neat function on the phone and placed a call.

  “Trevor? Busy tonight?”

  “For you, never too busy.”

  “If only that was true.” I sighed. “I need a ride to someplace off the beaten track, and possibly incredibly dangerous. I’ll be glad to pay with a pizza, or something else.”

  “Sure. Where should I pick you up?”

  I gave him the name of the diner a couple of blocks away, then hiked over there, ordered a cup of coffee and a piece of pie, and waited.

  When he arrived, I showed him the address Eileen had given me.

  “That is a very strange address,” Trevor said.

  “How so?”

  He expanded the map on my smartphone. “It doesn’t show it here, of course, but that is right on the north edge of Killarney Village. You jump over the fence, and you’re in Fae territory, I think.”

  “That might make it a good place to hide from a vamp,” I said.

  “I would agree, if the person hiding wasn’t a vamp. Dangerous.”

  We drove out there. At one point, the road we followed actually bordered the village. Past that point, there weren’t any lights, either street lights or from buildings. We were out in the country.

  The GPS announced that we had arrived, and Trevor pulled off the road in front of a gate on our right. A mailbox had the right number on it, and a dirt road past the gate disappeared in the darkness.

  Trevor turned off the car and got out.

  “You don’t have to come with me,” I said.

  “I think it’s a good idea to have someone watch your back. My shields may not be as awesome as yours, but I can protect myself from a vampire.”

  As we got ready to climb the fence, I pulled him into a hug. “Thank you.” I was glad to have him with me. Always lurking in the back of my mind were a couple of missives from my teachers. No matter how good you are, there’s probably someone better was one. The other was, Carelessness and luck are the great levelers in any battle. I had had an incredible run of good luck ever since I first became a Hunter, but I always wondered when it would run out.

  We crossed the fence and walked up the road. If Flynn was there, I didn’t want him mistaking us for Barclay’s men sneaking up on him. Trevor created a tiny spark of electricity on the end of his finger and held it out like a small lantern so we could see our footing. About a hundred yards along, that turned out to be a good thing.

  “Is that a tripwire?” Trevor asked, pointing to a thin shiny wire about a foot off the ground.

  I traced it across the road on both sides, then pointed to an even less visible wire strung five-and-a-half feet high a foot farther along.

  “Nasty. The first one is attached to some plastic explosive, and the second one is intended to decapitate anyone leaping over the first one. At a vampire’s speed, it would work like a charm.”

  As we made our way farther down the road, he asked, “You know about things like plastic explosives?”

  “I�
�ve seen them, never used them. Magic is much cleaner.” Seen, trained on, but the statement was true. I had used hand grenades, Molotov cocktails, and gasoline bombs, though. As George Flynn could testify, fire was a great way to clean out a nest of vampires.

  We walked four or five hundred yards until a large dark house became visible. At the same time, several people appeared in front of us, and I heard noises behind us.

  “I’m Erin McLane. I’m looking for George Flynn,” I announced.

  A vampire I recognized from my night at the restaurant stepped forward into the circle of Trevor’s light.

  “How did you find this place?” he asked.

  “I’m resourceful. And no, Rodrick Barclay did not send me, and hopefully doesn’t know where I am. We don’t think we were followed.”

  He chuckled. “Come this way, Miss McLane. And if you would, please ask your companion to douse the light.”

  They led us up to the house and through the front door. It looked like a hunting lodge, built out of logs and stone. Vampires have excellent night vision, but I found it irritating to bump into furniture and walls. I reached out to Trevor, and he took my hand. Neither of us wanted to be separated from the other.

  We finally found light after descending a long staircase. Flynn’s thralls also needed light, and we found them in the basement. We passed a room filled with beds and humans who appeared to be injured. A pair of humans, possibly doctors or nurses, were working on a girl who was badly burned on one side of her body.

  Our guide pushed a door open and stood aside. We entered a cozy parlor and found George Flynn standing at a sideboard. His children, Edward and Matilda, sat in chairs across from each other. Three empty chairs—one of which at the far end of the room faced the doorway—provided a hint of where Trevor and I were expected to sit.

  “Miss McLane,” Flynn said, “it has been far too long. Please come in. A drink? I promise I won’t charge you.” I was sure the joviality and smiles were an act, but Flynn and I had always enjoyed our banter.

  “If you please,” I said, craning my neck to see his selection. “The Glenmorangie twenty-five for me,” I said. Trevor’s eyes were a little wide and wild, so I said, “And I think the same for my friend.” I had never had the twenty-five-year whisky, but he didn’t have the ten year that I knew I liked. Why not take the opportunity to compare the difference?

  Flynn poured the drinks, then walked over and handed them to us. Heavy lead-crystal glasses, of course.

  “Please, have a seat,” he said. He took the chair facing the door, while we seated ourselves in the two with their backs to the door.

  I inhaled the aroma of the liquor, then took a tiny sip and rolled it around my tongue. I savored it, knowing my chances of ever tasting it again were slim. A bottle at Sam’s wholesale price ran over a thousand dollars.

  “So, what brings you out this evening?” George asked.

  “Before we get to that, I’d like to extend my condolences on your losses last night,” I said.

  He bowed his head slightly. “Thank you. It was a very distressing evening.”

  “I’m afraid that the news I bring won’t relieve any of that distress,” I said. George didn’t react, but I saw Edward and Matilda tense. “An ancient one has come to Westport.”

  Flynn’s eyes went flat black, no iris or white at all. It was very eerie.

  “Do go on,” he said.

  I leaned forward. “Please understand. I do not work for him, nor am I his thrall, but he has asked me—coerced me—to act as his messenger. That message is that he plans to be seated in Westport, but he is open to you either leaving or pledging fealty.”

  The room was quiet for what seemed an awfully long time.

  “What do you consider ancient?” he finally asked.

  “Born in 1250, turned in 1290.” Laurent was nobly born, and I had been able to find his birthdate online.

  Flynn nodded. “And how, may I ask, did you happen to meet this gentleman? Did he just wander into Rosie O’Grady’s for a drink?”

  “He’s been here for a while. One of his thralls, a dhampir, was the one running the bounty scheme. I think he was trying to diminish the size of the opposition, but also build up his finances. A vampire without a home tends to still have expenses but no income.”

  “That is true, but you didn’t answer my question.”

  “We met in Europe, three years ago. I didn’t know his name, or he mine. But when he came to Westport, he recognized me, or maybe one of his dhampir did. Last night, he kidnapped a friend of mine in order to get me to agree to meet with him.”

  “I see. Is your friend all right?”

  “A bit traumatized, but she’ll recover.”

  He gazed off into space for some time, then asked, “Am I the only one he asked you to speak with?”

  I shook my head. “I met with Eileen Montgomery earlier this evening. She gave me this address. He wants me to talk with Rodrick Barclay as well, but I’m not sure how I’m going to do that.”

  Flynn nodded. “Your killing Rodrick would really upset the apple cart, now wouldn’t it? I take it that this ancient one—what is his name?”

  “Gabriel Laurent.” I used the French pronunciation, just as Laurent did.

  “Yes, Monsieur Laurent. I take it he isn’t aware of Rodrick’s condition?”

  “I think he may be. He made a reference to the dangers of mage blood.”

  “Then perhaps he’s hoping you and Rodrick will take care of two problems for him. I would be wary of trusting Monsieur Laurent.”

  I watched Trevor out of the corner of my eye as I replied. “I don’t really have a choice.”

  “Ah, yes. You said you had met before. May I assume it wasn’t a social occasion?”

  “Actually, it was a banquet. An acquaintance of mine was one of the guests of honor.” Three of us had been sent to Vienna. I was the only one who made it home.

  He opened his mouth to ask another question, but I stood to forestall him.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Mr. Flynn. We really need to be going.” I swallowed half of the whisky in my glass, then passed Flynn the piece of paper I had prepared with Laurent’s name and number. “He should be expecting your call. Trevor? Are you ready?”

  “That is too bad,” Flynn said. “I was enjoying our conversation.”

  “Perhaps we can continue it sometime,” I said. “Assuming we both survive the immediate future.” I held my glass up. “I wish you luck and good fortune, George Flynn. But even more, I wish you that most precious of all commodities. Wisdom.”

  Flynn stood, and then his children stood. He held out his glass and said, “Luck and good fortune to you, Erin McLane. If anyone survives this filthy business, I hope it is you. You’re a woman of remarkable courage.”

  We drank, and I set my glass on my chair. My eyes met Trevor’s, and together we turned and walked out of the room. On the other side of the door we found the vampire who had guided us in.

  “I shall conduct you to your car,” he said. “Please, no light. We would rather that no one knew we were home.”

  On the way down the driveway, I asked, “Were your losses bad last night?”

  “Other than our home and our remaining business, we lost forty of our brothers and sisters and half of our thralls. It was bad.”

  “I spoke with Michaela Gallagher earlier today.” I said.

  “Oh? And how is sweet Michaela doing?”

  “She said that her sisters and her werewolf allies intercepted Barclay’s forces on their way home from doing business with you. I believe the term she used to describe the encounter was ‘wiped them out’.”

  In spite of the dark, his grin was very apparent. “Did you convey that information to the Master?”

  “No, we discussed other things. But feel free to let him know.”

  “Thank you for having my back,” I said when we got in the car.”

  “No problem.”

  But that was the last thing he said a
s we drove back to town. I tried to talk to him, but he either didn’t answer or just grunted. He took me to Rosie’s and stopped across the street instead of finding a parking place.

  “Trevor,” I started, but his face was closed, cold. “I don’t understand, Trevor. What’s wrong?”

  “Yeah, well, I don’t know. I don’t know anything about you. You won’t tell me anything. Europe? Banquets with vampires? Who are you? Why are you so closed off? You expect me to trust you?”

  “You said it was okay to leave the past behind. Can’t we just look forward? Don’t you know how I feel about you? You’re tearing me apart.”

  “I’m not sure I can. Sometimes you come off as a naïve little country girl, and other times it’s more like poor little rich girl, raised in a palace and on the run from daddy. Is that who you are? The daughter of a mob boss?”

  He twisted in his seat to face me.

  “Look at you. You’re dressed like a Hunter. Playing power broker for the whole city. But that’s not who you say you are. I think you need to trust me. If I don’t know about your past, how do I know if you’re the kind of girl who will make me happy. I mean, for all I know, you’re some kind of serial killer or something.”

  A chill ran through me, and then I lost it.

  “Trust you? You want to know all about me, about my past? You want me to tell you things that could get me killed? Me and everyone I know? Why should I trust a commitaphobe with that kind of information? I tell you my life history, and then you’ll decide if I’m qualified to be your girlfriend? I have to meet your requirements, check off all the boxes before you’ll let me into your life? Before you’ll at least give me a chance? Obviously, I’m not someone you care about. Fuck you. I hope you die lonely.”

  I jumped out of the car and started across the street. A car horn, very close, caused me to stop and hop backward. The car swerved around me and continued down the street. I looked both ways, then ran toward Rosie’s, tears blinding me. But when I reached the entrance, I couldn’t bring myself to go in. Instead, I continued down the alley and on toward the river.

  I couldn’t believe I had said those things to Trevor. As much as it hurt, he was right. I was asking him to accept me blindly, without knowing the risks. Master Rudolf could show up at the door and kill him just for knowing me, and Trevor would never know why. Because that was the way the Illuminati operated. Leave no witnesses, make sure no one even suspected their existence.