Of Scions and Men

by Courtney Sloan

  He took a step back, and the street guards split to let us through. Together, we strode from the entrance and between the security desks. Even the foyer was massive. My head swam as I entered the building. Before an alleyway of elevators, a series of detectors blocked our path. I pulled out my gun, cuffs, and knife before the metal detector. Mr. Marx raised an eyebrow while they were each cataloged. The ley detector flashed red when I passed through.

  “What are you carrying?” His smile drew into a serious line.

  I pointed to the adornments around my neck. “My DEC badge.” I added as he lifted his brow. “And a good luck charm. Gift from a friend.”

  The area around me grew colder, but fluctuated as if it couldn’t stick. God bless Norman. I needed to buy him that burger for sure.

  Marx glanced up at a black half-dome on the ceiling.

  I pulled a bit more from Devon, enhancing my senses and sending the detector into another fit.

  Faintly over his ear piece I could hear, “Let her up.”

  We’re in.

  Devon was uncharacteristically quiet.

  Marx returned my cuffs to me, but gave me tags in place of my weapons. “You can get those when you leave.”

  “I’m allowed to carry.”

  “Not here. Not without a warrant.” He turned his back to me and continued to the far elevator. The entire place blazed with light, much brighter and more organized than it had been before. All the lackeys and hangers-on were out of sight. Devon was right. This whole organization had changed, and it made me itch. Masterson was already too powerful; he wasn’t one I wanted to see gain more influence.

  “I kinda miss the full body pat down from a few years ago,” I said. “I’d been looking forward to it all evening.”

  Marx kept his face toward the opening elevator doors, but from his reflection in the wall of mirrors across from us, I could see his lips tip up into a smile. “We’ve had some changes in the last few years.”

  I hadn’t gotten to ride in the elevators that reached the top floors last time, only the one to Masterson’s office on the thirtieth. As the doors slid open, it was obvious the red velvet material on the walls below the mirrored wood had been recently reupholstered. There wasn’t a single worn spot. The wood itself not only shone with care, but the polish filled the small space with a heady, clean scent. It was opulent.

  Marx put out a hand and motioned for me to enter before him. As I passed, he sniffed. Norman’s gris bag must be stronger than I thought. I had told him it was noticeable, but he and Lyle had both assured me it was in my head. Blushing, I moved as far into the corner as I could. Great. Going to the most popular human club in town, and I stunk. This would do wonders for my street cred.

  His hand hesitated over the button marked 103. He spoke to me over his shoulder. “You may want to hold on to something. This can be quite a ride.”

  “I’ve been in elevators before, thank you.”

  Nodding, he pressed the button. After the doors closed, I gasped as my stomach lurched and tried to come out through my feet. My head felt light, and my body seemed to gain fifty pounds; air momentarily became an issue. We reached the 103rd floor in under sixty seconds.

  When the doors reopened, I all but fell out of them. I was so glad to be back on ground that didn’t move. Yet, hugging the wall, I could feel the building sway with the wind gusts outside. So, we were still moving. Fantastic. Now, I could understand the vampires going underground rather than taking over the skyscrapers our predecessors had built before the Reclamation. How could people stay in this more than a little while?

  Swallowing, I let go of the wall and followed Marx out the elevator. The hallway was dim, and bursts of lights punctuated the walls and revealed abstract art. Waving away the coat check girl, I followed Marx’s direction and proceeded into the club itself.

  Instead of the lower-class favor-seekers Masterson had entertained before, the place was packed with young professionals enjoying a night out. Music filled the glass-enclosed room, and groups dined on food that looked and smelled divine, and danced with smiles on their faces. I’d heard this club was the place to be, but I hadn’t really believed it; Masterson was a criminal. Yet, here was the proof.

  I cased beyond the crowd through the glass wall. The city was laid out before me with lines of buildings and cars spreading in all directions. I’d never seen Chicago like this before. It was beautiful, but not just the cityscape. The lake reflected the city lights and the heavens both. The wind, which was still shaking us, created little waves on the water, lit by the city itself. The surface danced and moved the points of light into a hypnotic swelling of life. I stood there like a goober, enjoying the view.

  “Sometimes life’s highs outweigh the lows.” A voice spoke from beside me, and to my embarrassment, I jumped.

  I’d been so engrossed in the view that I hadn’t heard Masterson approach, but there he was right behind me.

  In an attempt to regain some footing, I refused to turn and continued staring out the window at the water. “And sometimes the lows find us no matter how far we run.”

  “Do you think I’m running, Ms. Brady?”

  I turned to him, making sure my DEC choker was showing. “Oh no, Mr. Masterson. I think everyone runs to you. That’s your gift.”

  He gave me a long, weighing look that made my skin crawl, but I didn’t back away. Go me.

  Then the head gangster of Chicago surprised me, and laughed.

  hose closest to us froze at the sound of Masterson’s laughter. I raised an eyebrow when he clamped his mouth shut, stopping the unfamiliar sound as quickly as it began. He met the eyes of the staff closest to us. With a subtle, circular hand gesture, he moved toward another area of the glass wall. The waiters guided patrons away from our area, giving us the illusion of privacy in the crowd.

  His pale skin was taut for his age, but as he reached a hand back to guide me up steps I hadn’t noticed, the only wrinkles I could find were on his forehead. Worry lines. What bothered the man who had everything?

  He pulled me past the outer glass window I’d been staring through. I’d thought it was the edge, but I was wrong. Crying out, I stepped out onto the floor of a transparent glass box attached to the side of the building. Peering down at the people passing over a hundred stories below, vertigo threatened to tip me over. As I tittered, Masterson stood beside me with my elbow cradled in his hand, like an old school courtier.

  I braced myself on the outer wall of this glass-encased ledge. I couldn’t see it against the darkness of the night sky beyond, but it held me. Who the hell looks at an entire wall of windows on the 103rd floor of a building and says, “I want to put a glass cage sticking four feet out from there?”

  With a deep breath, I held myself upright and pulled away from Masterson’s grasp.

  “Ah, you’ve found your feet again,” he said. “Good. I love the city from up here. Everything is so connected. You should see it in full sunlight; it’s even more breathtaking.”

  “I’ll take your word for it.” I gazed down at the city again. The lights played off the strange, strong glass holding us up. They seemed to merge into a blue, serpentine string of lights that disappeared below our feet. The effect was beautiful.

  He tilted his head as if a sound had caught his attention, but his eyes were all for me. His gaze swept down my face and came to rest on my chest. A heat of embarrassment rose on my skin. The moment this creep tried anything, I’d rip his balls off.

  He reached a hand toward me, casually. I caught his wrist, but not before he tugged on the pendant around my neck, bringing me a step closer with it.

  “Forgive me, Ms. Brady–may I call you Rowan?” He continued without waiting for my approval. “Rowan, you have very interesting friends.”

  “They treat me well.” I held my ground and fought the urge to yank the chain away from his inspection. He leaned down and breathed deep at the pendant. I glimpsed around, aware of the curious stares we were getting from the young patr
ons.

  “Let’s see. I detect basil and clover, excellent protection agents. A hint of clove and garlic, decent at driving the unseen away, though they can do the same to potential suitors.” He gave one last deep inhale, and his eyes popped open. “Oh, and a nice lacing of Adder’s Tongue. Someone was worried my friends on the other side would spill secrets worth keeping if they got through. This is a dangerous pendant to my line of work, Rowan. Wherever did you get it?”

  It seemed Norman wasn’t as full of crap as I had thought when he’d raced around the lawn and kitchen, shoving this and that into my silver, half-moon necklace. The last ingredient, though, he’d pulled out of a canister in his bag. Adder was a type of snake, if my education wasn’t failing me. Eww, Masterson had said its tongue. Psychics, sheesh.

  “I’m not here to discuss my accessories, Mr. Masterson.” I reached to pull for an aura of compliance to speed things along but found nothing there. Seemed Devon thought I could do this without it. I’d question him later.

  Masterson waved me off. “Of course not. I promised you dinner. Come, I think our table is ready now.”

  He escorted me from the box to a table that had been set up by his goons while the patrons disbursed. In the short time we’d been in the window, they’d not only set it up, but had a spread of Italian food and drink laid out. I noted the table had three chairs.

  Masterson pulled out one for me then sat in the seat opposite. “Please enjoy. I’m sure you don’t get to experience eating with your employer.”

  I stiffened at the comment, and he smiled as he brought the first bite of food to his lips.

  “What has brought you to my door this evening, Rowan? I believe it was ‘life and death.’ Though, you can understand, I hear those words enough that they have quite lost their urgency.”

  “But you still saw me.” I eyeballed the food. He wouldn’t drug me with this many people around, right? I forced my shoulders to relax and took a bite of veal with a cream sauce. Last thing I wanted was to look like a wuss in front of the biggest thug in town. “Mmm, this is good. I mean really good.”

  He smiled until it showed in his eyes. “I’m glad you approve. I saw you because you are an interesting woman. Not many would sacrifice everything just to be saddled with a young brother not even out of grade school.”

  The food lost its taste in my mouth, but I forced myself to swallow.

  “Especially when one was so far ahead of the crowd. The fact destitution put you in their clutches”—he spat the word with venom—“is a true testament to how far society has fallen.”

  I sat back and stared at him, trying not to grimace at his words. I was marginally successful. “My past is not why I’m here.” Did he really watch everyone at all times? It wasn’t like my history was common knowledge, even in the vampiric circles.

  “Of course not. Excuse me–I did have another meeting set up for this time. I’m sure you won’t mind if my colleague joins us, under the circumstances.”

  “Whatever,” I muttered into my water glass, taking a sip to try to regain control of this situation.

  A shadow crossed over me as the chair between us was pulled out. “Sorry for being late. Had to round up the usual crew, but everything will be going out tomorrow.”

  I froze at the voice and jerked my gaze up at the newest dinner guest.

  “Good evening, Ro. I did warn you I was back in town.”

  Curtis smiled at me as he took his seat.

  y head swam as the two men continued their conversation about some upcoming party announcement like they hadn’t just thrown my world into a complete spin. They knew they had. Curtis’s right dimple showed he’d known I was here. He was enjoying this. Damn him. Why did he have to make things so difficult?

  I hadn’t seen Curtis in three years, not since my fateful Ceremony day when I’d officially become Devon’s scion. I still had my engagement ring on a chain in my room. Curtis was still thin, but he’d gained muscle on his form. A few workouts and the ability to eat regularly must have entered his world.

  Their words brought me out of my reverie. “Excuse me, Mr. Masterson, Curtis,” I spat his name. “You are talking about an announcement? What announcement?” Devon would want to know. Hell, I wanted to know.

  Curtis flicked his long, sandy brown bangs from his eyes and smiled at me. I’d loved those bangs. They were great to run your hands through and a great tell into his emotions. That flick told me he was confident. I had to tread carefully.

  He opened his mouth to answer, but Masterson spoke first. “My dear, I thought you knew. It’s the reason for all the changes and heightened security. Come next Friday, I am announcing at a rally in Eckhart Park that I will be running for mayor of Chicago.”

  I ran the words over in my head, tried them in a different order. They still didn’t make any sense. “No one runs for mayor of Chicago. It’s always appointed to one of Romaric’s lineage.”

  Curtis beamed. He had a new excitement and determination. Looked good on him, but why had he called? Why was he sitting here at a table with goddamn Masterson, king of the underhanded sons-of-bitches club? Maybe I’d just answered my own question.

  “I’ve done the digging,” Curtis said. “They’ve never changed the laws. We still have the power of voting for our representatives. Technically, Lidau just always runs unopposed. So, once the announcement is done, we’re going to march the whole rally and reporters to the mayor’s office and hand the ‘Declaration to Run’ directly to Lidau himself. Maybe we’ll luck out, and Romaric will be there.”

  Masterson tipped his glass to me. “So, I’m going to open up the free market of ideas again and put some humanity back in control of our government.”

  I snorted a laugh then caught myself when he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry, but you acting as the representative of humanity in the government? You may look it, but you’re not. You’re a pret, just like them–just like me. Humanity doesn’t like us anymore. And that includes your second here.” I pointed a thumb at Curtis. “He’s a prime example of how quick humanity will turn on the likes of us.”

  Curtis opened his mouth to interrupt, but I cut him off with a simple, raised eyebrow, daring him to contradict me. He blanched and had the decency to glance away.

  “They won’t see it your way, no matter what fantasy you two are trying to cook up,” I finished.

  Masterson tipped his head. “Really, Rowan? What I am and what I do is the pinnacle of human power and achievement.”

  “And once we’ve worked our magic on the campaign, everyone will see the truth.” Curtis raised his chin to me, daring me to challenge him.

  I wanted to ignore him and not rise to the bait, but my curiosity got the better of me. “Okay, I’m part of those people you are trying to work your magic on. Convince me your magic is more human than any other preternatural creature.”

  Masterson opened his arms and smiled. “Rowan, I am simply a human man who only has the ability to talk to other humans, be they alive or dead. I don’t run into the arena of the unnatural. I can’t do anything to a vampire or convince another human to do something against their will.”

  I couldn’t resist. “All evidence to the contrary.”

  “Rowan, all the people who have come to me and worked with me–”

  “Have been blackmailed by you.”

  His eyes tightened, but his smile never faltered. If I hadn’t been so close, I would have missed it. TV cameras certainly would have.

  “They work with me. They sought me out. Asked for my help, and received it,” he said.

  “How is controlling ghosts not unnatural?”

  “Ghosts are simply humans who have had such trauma that they got lost moving on. They are confused, frightened. But they were still human. Those I can help move on and continue the natural cycle, I do. Those I can’t, I help them find a new use–a new purpose.”

  “Spying on the everyday man you hope votes for you?”

  “Watching the Watchmen as the old phr
ase goes. Without a new purpose, ghosts who are still here without an anchor go insane, become dangerous. Not unlike their human counterparts. You simply have to venture to the coasts to see I’m right. I want to enact new work programs for all humanity, those still of the flesh and those who are stuck after the horrible devastation of the Reclamation.”

  I could hear the sound bite in his words. I could see the headlines for weeks on end, and, dammit, I couldn’t disagree. Even though I knew what he did, how many people he manipulated and used, I could see how many people he could move with this message.

  And those who would come down on his neck for it. His and those who supported him.

  I turned my eyes to Curtis and narrowed them. “All right. Let’s say I see your platform. What do you have to do with all this?”

  “I’m Mr. Masterson’s campaign manager.” He shifted like he was trying to control himself. “I told you I’d find something if you waited.” He couldn’t help a dig. It was his nature

  I moved my eyes between the two, uncomfortable at this discussion in front of such back-stabbing manipulative strangers, but I couldn’t let Curtis’s comment lie. He hadn’t earned the right to the last word. “Shit, Curtis, three years ago, neither of us could earn enough to feed the three of us, even in the crappy housing we had. I was supposed to wait around on a wing and a prayer?”

  “Curtis, my boy” –Masterson put a hand on his shoulder, reining him in–“you have to understand she had not only herself to think about but her poor brother as well.” His eyes turned on me and were full of compassion. Despite my knowledge of him–and the nausea building in my stomach at hearing him talk about Will–his understanding felt good. Why was it only the bad guys had compassion anymore? Maybe they were the only ones who could afford it.

  I shook the thought from my head and snapped, “Anyway, you made your feelings about me and my kind very clear the last time we saw each other, Curtis. I’d recommend you keep that off your sound bites.”