Dark Widow’s Blessing

by I. T. Lucas

  “Ella asks if you came up with a plan to fake her death.”

  “Faking it is only half the problem. The real challenge is having her body disappear in a way that will not cause suspicion. Julian has a crazy idea we are checking out.”

  “What is it?”

  “A story about Ella donating her body to research and it being sent to some remote university. The idea is for the paperwork to get messed up, so no one knows where the body ended up being delivered. He says he remembers a case like that when he was in medical school. I’m having my people look into it. It is paramount that the story withstand the most careful scrutiny. She is important to Gorchenco. He will leave no stone unturned until he’s convinced that she’s really dead.”

  24

  Turner

  “A Russian restaurant.” Yamanu shook his head. “What do they serve there? I’ve never had Russian food before. Is it any good?”

  “Who cares?” Arwel said. “We are going there to test your thralling powers on Russians, not to enjoy the food.”

  “Can’t we do both?”

  As the two Guardians kept going back and forth about this or that ethnic food, Turner glanced at Julian who was sitting shotgun next to him in the van. “How is it going? Any luck?”

  The doctor was busy texting old friends from medical school about cadavers, the procedures for obtaining them, and whether anyone had heard about losing a cadaver.

  “Everyone is happy to share information about all the necessary procedures for submitting a request for a cadaver for research, but no one is fessing up to losing one.”

  “What are you telling them about why you need the info?”

  Julian lifted his head from the screen and cast Turner an amused sidelong glance. “My cover story is that I’m writing a suspense novel about organ smuggling and missing cadavers.”

  “Smart.”

  Hopefully, Julian would get some information because Turner’s people had come up with nothing. If cadavers were misplaced in university research centers, the information was being covered up so no one would find out and sue the facility. It seemed that the only way to find out was to get insider information, which was what Julian was trying to do.

  The other issue they had to figure out was whether Russians were genetically more resistant to thralling or was it just a cultural thing—a tendency to be overly suspicious and defensive.

  If it was just a behavioral issue then Yamanu would have no problem thralling the vast majority of Gorchenco’s personnel because they wouldn’t see it coming. But if they were genetically resistant, then even Yamanu’s incredible ability to blanket thrall large areas from afar wouldn’t fool enough people to believe there was a fire happening.

  They would have to stage a real one, using Sylvia to cause an electrical short in a sensitive spot.

  Julian had suggested a Russian restaurant as a good place for the test. The question was whether they would find real Russians in a Russian restaurant. Their other option was the Russian consulate, but that was much more tricky.

  “You rock the rapper look, Yamanu,” Julian said as they got out of the van.

  “I do, don’t I.” Yamanu bent from his considerable height to examine his reflection in the van’s side-view mirror.

  For the outing, he’d braided his long black hair into several thin braids, and put on a pair of dark sunglasses to cover his pale blue eyes.

  Julian waited on the sidewalk. “If you can use this disguise whenever you want, why do you prefer staying in the village?”

  Flashing him a big smile, Yamanu flipped his long braids back. “Because I get too much attention from the ladies. I don’t want to cause riots.”

  It was a joke. Even Turner had heard the rumors about the guy’s self-imposed celibacy. Yamanu was a walking contradiction, and as such he fascinated Turner. The guy was friendly and outgoing, and yet he acted like a recluse. He was very good-looking, and yet he stayed away from women.

  He wasn’t gay either.

  Turner hadn’t caught him looking appreciatively at members of either sex.

  And although he liked to joke and tell stories about old battles and the shenanigans he and his fellow Guardians had pulled, Yamanu never revealed anything personal.

  “How many?” the hostess asked.

  “Four,” Julian said.

  She smiled at him, then pulled out four menus and sauntered over to a table. “Is this one okay?”

  “Perfect.” Yamanu flashed her one of his smiles.

  She gave him a thorough look over.

  The restaurant was almost full, and the good news was that everyone around them was speaking Russian.

  “She wants you,” Arwel said after the hostess had left.

  Yamanu grinned. “I know. They all do.” He lifted the menu. “What should I order? Do you know what’s good?”

  The interesting thing was that Turner had smelled the woman’s arousal, and even Arwel had emitted a little of his own. Yamanu hadn’t emitted even a whiff, and neither had Julian.

  Julian was obsessed with a picture of a pretty face and paid attention to no other, but what was Yamanu’s excuse?

  Turner knew some humans who were asexual. But this was the first immortal he had encountered that seemed not to be interested at all.

  “Try the Tashkent salad,” he suggested. “My grandmother used to make something similar. I remember it being tasty.”

  “White radish and beef topped with yogurt and onions,” Yamanu read from the menu. “I’ll try it.”

  “Your grandmother was Russian?” Arwel asked.

  “Her mother was.”

  “Maybe we should look for Dormants in Russia.”

  “It was my paternal grandmother.”

  “Oh.”

  When they were done with the main course, Turner ordered coffee and cake for everyone.

  “I can’t eat another bite.” Yamanu rubbed his flat stomach.

  Turner leaned toward him and whispered, “We need the cake for the ‘Happy Birthday’ song.”

  “Whose birthday is it?” Arwel asked.

  “No one’s. I want Yamanu to thrall everyone to sing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Victor. We will see who is singing and who’s not.”

  Yamanu nodded.

  “Good idea,” Julian said in a hushed tone. “No one would get suspicious about singing ‘Happy Birthday’.”

  Turner smiled and leaned back in his chair. “Precisely.”

  Yamanu waited for the cake and coffee to be served, then cast his thrall. “It’s on.”

  Several people started singing, while others looked at them and frowned since there was no cake with a candle on any of the tables. As the waiters came rushing in to see if they’d missed something, some were singing, and some were not.

  “Happy birthday, Victor,” Yamanu said out loud.

  Relieved to find out who the birthday customer was, the waiters congregated around their tables and sang. Some of the reluctant audience joined in, but others went back to eating their dinner.

  “It must be genetic,” Turner said after the waiters had left. “Otherwise they wouldn't have resisted the thrall. There was no reason to.”

  “I agree,” Yamanu said. “I used full power. I won’t be surprised if people on the street are singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to Victor.”

  Arwel rubbed his jaw. “Maybe that’s why you’re immune, or were as a human. You have Russian blood in you.”

  Turner crossed his arms over his chest. “I was told that it was my superior intelligence that made me immune.” He was only half joking.

  Yamanu offered a compromise. “Maybe it’s the combination of both. But in any case, we have proof of your hypothesis.’

  Turner nodded. “Regrettably. Things would have been much simpler if you could fool everyone on that estate.”

  25

  Magnus

  The sitting and waiting and doing nothing was driving Magnus nuts. Especially since he had his dream woman sitting right next to him and the
most he could do was wrap his arm around her shoulders or give her a platonic kiss.

  Parker was sprawled on the couch in Vivian’s suite, so it was either sitting on the uncomfortable dining chairs over there, or on the sofa in Magnus’s room. They’d opted for the second one, leaving both doors open.

  Regrettably, with how anxious Vivian felt, necking was out of the question, so the two of them had watched a Netflix movie, and after that Vivian had started reading a book.

  Unfortunately, Magnus wasn’t much of a reader. He’d already read all the interesting articles on his news application, checked the clan’s virtual bulletin board, and had even considered sending his mother a text.

  Not a good idea for several reasons. First of all, she hated texting, and he would get berated for not calling. And secondly, he wanted to delay telling her about Vivian until after Parker’s transition. Ideally, he would’ve preferred to wait for Vivian to transition herself, but by then the rumor would have traveled all the way to Scotland, and his mother would be mad that he hadn’t told her anything.

  Pushing off the couch, Magnus stretched. “I’m going to check on Parker and see if he is in the mood for going out to dinner.”

  Vivian looked up from the book she’d been reading on her phone. “I checked on him less than an hour ago, and he was fine, but still, I think we should order takeout. Bridget said to take it easy and watch him. What if he starts feeling sick in the restaurant?”

  “You’re right. I’ll just go and see how he’s doing.”

  Bored and restless, Magnus could’ve used an invigorating swim in the pool, or alternatively pumping some iron in the gym, but he didn’t feel like leaving Vivian and Parker alone, more for moral support than anything practical.

  If the kid started feeling sick, Vivian could call Bridget just as well as he could.

  “Hi, kiddo. How are you feeling?” Magnus said as he stepped in.

  “Good.” Parker didn’t even spare him a glance and kept on playing.

  Scarlet lifted her head and gave him one of her sad looks, as if saying, “You abandoned me, and I’m not going to forget it anytime soon even if you give me all of your bologna.”

  “Oh, come on, girl. Get over it.” He scratched behind her ears, which produced a little tail wagging.

  Pathetic. But it was progress.

  She scooted to make room as Magnus sat on the couch next to Parker. He watched him play for several moments. “Don’t you get bored doing this all day long?”

  “There is nothing better to do. Mom said that I don’t have to study today because of the transition.”

  “You can read a book.”

  “I do. Mom forces me to read three chapters every day.”

  “You don’t like reading?”

  Parker shrugged. “It’s boring. Too slow and no visuals. Mom says that I need to see what's happening in the book in my head, but I don’t.” He cast Magnus a sidelong glance. “Do you? I mean can you picture in your head what you’re reading? Like a movie?”

  “When the story is really interesting, then yeah. But I’m not much of a reader either. I like doing things and making stuff.”

  Parker shot the last of the villains in the virtual warehouse, paused the game, and pulled the blanket up to his chin. “For me, gaming is like that. I feel like I’m inside the game, and I’m doing things. Also, not all the games are about shooting bad guys, it’s just what I’m in the mood for lately. I have one where I build houses and villages and whole environments. So that covers the making stuff. The only difference between you and me is that you do it in the real world, and I do it in the virtual one.”

  It was an intriguing way of looking at it. Parker reminded Magnus of his roommates.

  “You know, my roommates in the village are like you. They are both programmers, and they sit in their rooms all day, creating games. They live like vampires, and I don’t think it’s healthy. I don’t mean physically because immortal bodies are very resilient, but mentally it can’t be good for them. People, humans and immortals, need to move around, breathe fresh air, and socialize.”

  Parker narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s the speech for? Are you trying on the dad role?”

  Should he be offended?

  Had he sounded preachy?

  Maybe a little. It hadn’t been his intention at all, but apparently Parker was not ready to accept him as a father figure yet.

  They’d bonded quickly over the two intense weeks they’d spent together, but that was just the beginning of the process. It would take a long time for all of them to become a family for real.

  But it was okay. Magnus wasn’t in a hurry, and he wasn’t going to push Parker or Ella into accepting him. To start with, he was only going to be someone they would feel comfortable being around. The rest would come with time.

  “I told my roommates the same thing, as a friend. You can take my advice or leave it. “

  Parker let out a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like a brat. I’m just stressed. Nothing is happening.”

  “That’s what I came to check. So nothing hurts? No fever?”

  Parker shook his head. “Nada. Maybe I’m not transitioning.”

  “Let me check. Open your mouth.” Magnus patted the gums above Parker’s canines. “They seem to be a little swollen. Let me feel your throat.” He searched for a swelling where the new venom glands should start growing. “I can’t feel them yet, but that doesn’t mean a thing. They might be very small at this stage.”

  Vivian entered the room. “Well? Anything?”

  Magnus turned to her. “I think his gums are swollen.”

  “Let me see.” She did the same thing he had. “I think you’re imagining it.”

  “There is another test we can try, but I prefer for Bridget to do that.”

  “What is it?”

  “She can make a little incision and check how quickly the bleeding stops and the skin knits itself back together.”

  “You mean she’s going to cut me?” Parker asked.

  “It’s just a tiny cut on the palm of your hand.”

  “The palm? No way. I need my hands for gaming. Can’t she check something else? I mean, if there is no other way, then fine. But what if I’m not transitioning yet and get stuck with a bleeding cut?”

  “Bridget will not leave it bleeding. She’ll bandage it.”

  “But it will hurt.”

  Magnus pulled out his phone. “I’m calling Bridget. We’ll let her decide which test to run.”

  Vivian nodded. “I feel bad about dragging her out here, but I can’t stand the uncertainty. Maybe you should text her instead of calling? It’s not like anything has happened and it’s an emergency. Give her the option to decline.”

  Good point. With Julian gone, Bridget was probably extremely busy. Merlin had just arrived, and the guy would take his time getting settled before he showed up in the clinic.

  Unless someone was in excruciating pain and needed immediate medical assistance, or a human under his care was dying, Merlin was never in a rush to do anything.

  After spending a couple of moments thinking how to phrase his request politely, but at the same time encourage Bridget to come, Magnus read the text out loud. “Vivian and I are wondering if you have time to come check on Parker. As you can imagine, all three of us are anxious to find out whether he’s transitioning or not. I’m ordering dinner, and I would love for you to join us. Let me know when is a good time for you.”

  “Excellent,” Vivian approved. “Send it.”

  A moment later his phone pinged with a return text. I can be there in an hour.

  26

  Vivian

  As Magnus opened the door for Bridget, Vivian rushed to welcome the doctor, pulling her in for a quick hug. “I’m sorry for dragging you out here. I’m sure you have your plate full. But speaking of plates, dinner is getting cold. We should sit down to eat.”

  Bridget smiled. “I’m actually glad for the invitation. Turner and Julian are i
n New York, all the preparations are done, and with Yamanu there to help them, I’m not as worried as I would’ve been otherwise. I actually had nothing to do.”

  “Who’s Yamanu?” Vivian asked.

  With a smirk, Magnus wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Let’s sit down to eat, and I’ll tell you all about our secret weapon.”

  “The secret weapon is a guy?” Parker asked.

  He was already at the table, a napkin tucked inside his shirt collar, the fork and knife ready for some steak action.

  “Yup.” Magnus pulled out two chairs, one for Bridget and the other one for Vivian. “I got you the only vegetarian dish they offered. Mushroom risotto.”

  “Thank you for remembering.” Bridget sat down.

  “Of course.”

  “Bon appetit, everyone,” Vivian said.

  As Parker attacked his steak, Bridget grinned. “Judging by his appetite, he’s transitioning.”

  Vivian wished it was true. “That’s nothing unusual. Parker loves steaks. But he woke up very hungry this morning, which is a little unusual.”

  “I’ll check him after dinner.”

  “Thank you. Now, who wants to tell me about Yamanu?” She looked at Magnus.

  He finished chewing and wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Yamanu is a master thraller. He can thrall large groups of people at once, and his thralls are very realistic. Smell, touch, texture, a human can’t distinguish between illusion and reality. He can also shroud a big area, hiding it from humans, including all sights, sounds, and smells.”

  “What an incredible asset he must be to your people.”

  Magnus reached for her hand. “Our people. You belong with us.”

  “Provided we are Dormants.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Magnus squeezed her hand. “Anyway, Yamanu is going to create the illusion of fire. Ella, being still human, is going to be as affected by it as everyone else on the estate. That’s why we asked you to warn her, but before I spilled the beans about us, we couldn’t tell you about the illusion. That’s why we said we were going to use pyrotechnics.”