She nodded. “No problem. We have exams coming up next week, anyway. It will give me more time to study. I want to make you proud.” Simply put, but plain and poignant, nonetheless.
I smiled. “You already do. But yes, study hard. If you’re going to rise through the ranks here, you’ll want every advantage you can get. I’ll call you later on and we’ll reschedule.” As I turned to go, another one of the security officers dashed up.
“Lord Roman is asking for you, Lady.”
“I’m on my way.” I nodded as he bowed. Glancing at the clock, I took the stairs two at a time. It was already close to four thirty and I had less than an hour before I needed to be home. I could always sleep here, no problem, but I preferred my home base. Though I was probably safer here than at home, if I was honest about it.
Roman was behind his desk when I entered the room. He glanced up at me. “You talked to Erin?”
“Yes, she seems happy and I’m grateful you took her under your wing.” I meant it. Roman liked overseeing people. I didn’t mind at the Wayfarer—after all, it was my bar—but that was about the extent of my desire to be any sort of a leader.
“She’s going to go far here. I’m assigning you twenty of my elite guards. They can patrol the streets for you and fight with you. They’re all trustworthy—they’ve been through loyalty tests.” His emphasis on the last gave me an involuntary shudder. From the little I had seen, Roman’s “loyalty tests” were brutal and harsh. They were far better than a lie detector and only one step down from a truth serum. “Be here as soon as you can after sunset tonight in order to explain their duties and your expectations of them. I have given explicit orders that your voice is my voice in matters of authority on this subject.”
I nodded, grateful for the extra help. “We need all the help we can get.”
“I agree. Which is why I am going to make a trip to visit my mother again. She needs to know about this development. I’ll go as soon as I wake up this evening, and I’ll be back as soon as I can. We may be able to reach some of the vamps over in Otherworld to go up against Telazhar, but to be honest, I have my doubts about that. They do not kneel to my mother.”
“No, they don’t, and they’re far more loners than team players.” I shook my head. Once they had kicked Dracula over Earthside, it was every vamp for himself, and while certain city-states and lands had rules regarding vamps, truth was, they were hard to enforce. In fact, vampires got along with general society over here much better than they did in Otherworld. Yet one more odd disparity. I glanced at the clock. “I’d better get home or they’ll be worrying.”
Roman stood then and held out his arms. “Menolly . . .”
I slid into his embrace, the cool chill of his skin mirroring my own. When he stood still, he reminded me of an alabaster or porcelain statue, he was so pale. How he had managed to keep his mind from careening into madness over the centuries, I wasn’t sure. And I wondered about his mother, as well. Blood Wyne was formidable and—in so many ways—terrifying, but she was as sane as I was.
“Thank you. Thank you for wanting to help.” I leaned my head against his shoulder, wishing I had time to stay and play. I could let go fully with Roman, in a way I never could with Nerissa without fear of hurting her. Roman was my fail-safe. We could get rough and dirty and feed on one another when the hunger overwhelmed us. But there was one little problem. Roman had fallen in love with me. And I didn’t love him. Oh, I did, in a way. At least, as a friend. And we had incredible sexual chemistry together. But I would never love him the way I loved Nerissa.
Nerissa and I had agreed, when we realized we were serious, that our hearts belonged to each other. Other women were off-limits, but we could play with the boys as long as it didn’t get emotionally serious. I knew she had a male partner, too—a Were of some sort, though I hadn’t met him yet. We had a real go-round about that one, because apparently my inner idiot believed in double standards. But we had come to a truce, though at some point we were going to have to figure out better rules for coping with the issue.
Roman sensed my need and pressed closer. “If you can carve out an hour or two when I get back . . .” And then, reluctantly, he let me go and returned to his desk. “I’d better get a few of these things out of the way so I can be ready to leave when I wake up tonight. Menolly, fear not. There’s absolutely no question of the Vampire Nation doing its part. This is our world, too. And we have no desire to be under Shadow Wing’s rule.” And with that, he blew me a kiss and went back to work.
On the way home, I thought about his words. This is our world, too. Vampires and Supes and Fae and humans. We all had to work together to keep it from the demons. But there was no way we could enlist the majority of humans, who were too busy fighting their own wars among themselves. And even if they did listen to us, there was no way the majority would trust us to lead the battle.
I reached the house and hurried inside. It was five ten. I was cutting it close. Delilah was dozing in the living room—asleep on the sofa. I wasn’t sure where Camille was. Hanna was awake, and she had covered them both with afghans. She motioned for me to join her in the kitchen.
“There was a call for you in the Whispering Mirror. I tried to wake up your sister, but she’s dead to the world. You girls have been pushing yourselves too hard. Fae or not, none of you can go on like this.”
“Who was it?”
“I have no idea. I’m not authorized to activate the mirror. But I thought you should know.”
I nodded. “Thank you, Hanna. I’ll check the call log and see if I can figure out who it was before I head downstairs.” I bustled into the parlor where we had stowed the Whispering Mirror so it would be out of the way and yet easily accessible. Another glance at the clock told me I had twenty minutes at best before I needed to be downstairs and in my bed.
I slid in front of the mirror, settling on the bench. I couldn’t see my reflection—and whoever was on the other end wouldn’t be able to, either—but that didn’t mean my voice wouldn’t carry through the miles and worlds. I said my name. The mirror was voice activated, keyed to Camille, Delilah, Nerissa, Iris, and me. After a moment, the mist in the silver-framed mirror cleared. Most likely, it had been Trenyth on the other side. The mirror was tuned to Elqaneve.
A moment later, a harried elf appeared in the mirror. He looked confused. “Yes? Who’s calling? Identify yourself.”
“This is Menolly D’Artigo. I’m a vampire; you aren’t going to be able to see me. My sisters aren’t available right now. I needed to find out if Trenyth called us before I head down into sleep for the day, so if you could hurry, I would appreciate it.”
Another moment passed, the elf still looking confused, but then he stood and trundled off out of sight. I waited, tapping my foot on the floor. If he didn’t get his ass back, I was going to have to end the call. But just as I was gearing up to shut the mirror down, Trenyth appeared.
“I was worried—I seldom call this early and don’t get an answer.”
“Delilah’s asleep and Camille’s out. And I was over at Roman’s. So you were the one who called?”
He nodded. “Yes, it was me.”
I rushed on. “You need to hurry. It’s near sunrise and I have to get my ass down to bed.”
“I have some sobering news, Menolly. Can you wake your sisters? I’d rather tell you all at the same time. And what about the men?” He glanced beyond me—Trenyth was fully aware of why I wasn’t showing up in the mirror—straining as he looked to see who all was here.
“I’m alone right now and only have a few minutes before I have to get down in my lair. Can it keep till sunset tonight?”
He frowned, then shrugged. “I suppose it will have to. But first thing, contact me. I’ll be waiting. We have some new information from the Subterranean Realms, and it’s not good.” And with that, the chief advisor to the Elfin throne signed off, looking all too weary.
I scribbled a note for the others and then headed downstairs, praying for dreams free of fire and demons and pain. And for once, I got my wish.
Chapter 3
By the time I woke up, showered, dressed, and hauled ass upstairs, it was quarter to nine. The summer months sucked; the increased length of the days severely curtailed my time spent awake. Besides being an inconvenience, during times like this—when every minute counted—it felt like I put everybody I cared about at risk because I wasn’t there to help them out as much.
“Any activity so far?” I glanced around. Everyone in the household was gathered around the huge oak table Smoky had bought when we built the extension onto the kitchen, including Iris. Everyone except Chase, Bruce, and the babies.
The kitchen counters overflowed with food. Apparently, Iris and Hanna had gone on a mad cooking spree. I spotted just about every favorite dish that every single person in the household loved. I suspected that cooking served as stress relief for the pair of them. The smells made my mouth water, but I ignored the food—there was nothing else I could do.
Camille shook her head, but she looked pale. In fact, everyone seemed subdued. “No. Not here.” But the edge to her voice told me that wasn’t the whole of the story.
I dropped into the chair next to Nerissa and planted a kiss on her lips. “Hey, love. You look tired.” She actually looked exhausted.
“That’s because I just got home from work.”
“Rough day?” At her quiet nod, I began to worry. Nerissa worked with victims of crimes and disasters at the FH-CSI. That she had been at work this long told me something big had gone down. Glancing around at the dour demeanor on everybody, I finally just planted my elbows on the table and said, “Okay, I know something happened. Will someone tell me what? And where’s Chase?”
“Chase is still at work.” Nerissa motioned to Delilah. “Show her the papers, Kitten. A lot of people have been busy little bees today. Or should I say, wasps. Nasty wasps and hornets.”
Delilah tossed a newspaper in front of me. Several of them, in fact. The first—the Seattle Tattler, a rag that had been the bane of our life since Day One when we arrived Earthside—sported a big, bold headline splashed across the top: DEMONIC CREATURES TAKING OVER SEATTLE! CAN OUR INTREPID FAE FRIENDS SAVE THE DAY OR ARE THEY IN LEAGUE? Of course it was hyperbole, but the trouble was, they had caught several bone-walkers and a bloatworgle on film. I winced. Not only had they caught the enemy on camera, but Smoky was there, too, right in the middle of destroying one of the bloatworgles. It wasn’t a pretty picture, either.
I quietly set the paper aside without reading the story and picked up the next one. This was out of the U.K. Another yellow rag, it had pictures of Tregarts and bloatworgles emerging from a shimmering portal in the middle of Stonehenge. The headline there was: DEMONS POURING FORTH FROM THE GATES OF HELL! Two more papers—one from Scotland, one from Oregon—showed the problem as having spread farther than Seattle and Stonehenge.
I knew that the minute I started reading any one of these stories, I’d blow my stack. Shoving them to the side, I leaned back and folded my arms. “All right, before I read these and go apoplectic, somebody tell me just how bad this is. And why is Chase still at work?”
“The incident at Stonehenge was bad.” Morio’s eyes were shimmering topaz, which meant his youkai side was close to the surface. And that meant he was upset. “There were fatalities. A group of Fae from over in Sherwood Forest managed to take them out, but four humans and ten Fae died during the fight. Up in Scotland—somewhere near Loch Ness—another batch poured through. Again, the Fae took them down. This time without loss, but they were seen.”
Trillian took over. “Down in Portland several creatures were spotted that we think are demons, but they vanished into the crowds near the Columbia River. We have no idea what they are up to or where they are, but Chase is working with the up-and-coming FH-CSI they have been creating there to contain the issue. Frank Willows, from the Supe Community Council, sent a small contingent down there to help mobilize the Supes in that area.”
This was bad. Very bad. We’d worked so hard to keep news of the demons away from the general populace, but events were slipping out of our control. Fae were a novelty. Weres? A little more problematic. Vampires scared the hell out of humans, but they also held a certain mystique. But demons? No, demons would push people over the edge.
Camille cleared her throat. “I went out to Talamh Lonrach Oll before bed this morning. You were downstairs by the time I got back. I spoke to Aeval and she’s sending warriors over to England now, to fast-track the Fae there into the fighting force they once were. Merlin is going, too, and Áine went with him.” She shook her head. “This came too soon. We’ve been planning for this but they still caught us off guard.”
I tried to take in all the information at once. Turning to Nerissa, I said, “What about you? Why were you at work so late?”
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “You need to know something, but I’m not sure how to tell you. There was an incident today . . . It’s bad.”
The way she said it chilled me to the bone. Her voice was flat, resigned. Even during disasters, Nerissa was right on top of things, but tonight? She looked harried and out of it.
Bad could mean a number of things. “Tell me.”
She gave a helpless look at the others. “Okay, here’s the thing. The Fellowship of the Earthborn Brethren staged an attack—using the Freedom’s Angels as their front men—on one of the vampire apartment complexes today.” At my reaction, she hurried to add, “Not the Shrouded Grove Suites, where Wade lives. It’s a new complex. One called DarkTower Gardens.”
I waited. Whatever happened, it had obviously affected her. Sometimes Nerissa’s job could be rough. She was a victim’s aid counselor, and she dealt with more than her share of grief and despair. Considering the Fellowship of the Earthborn Brethren were involved, it meant something bad had gone down. They were a hate group and they actively campaigned for violence against anyone other than human. They used the Freedom’s Angels—a militant activist group—as their primary weapon.
After a pause, she continued. “They tried to burn the building down, and when they couldn’t, they used C-4 to blow up the bottom two floors. We know there were at least twenty-three vampires living on those floors, but there might be others who were killed. Chase is still at work because they couldn’t take a head count of who survived until after sunset. Then we start sorting through the labyrinth that always happens when vampires disappear.”
I nodded very slowly, trying to maintain my temper, which was usually the first thing to go when I received really bad news. I had friends and acquaintances who lived in that complex, but right now, I needed to keep my cool.
Nerissa was right. It would be a labyrinth. It was never easy to tell if a vampire had merely moved on or been killed. The only thing that remained when a vamp died the final death was a pile of dust—and it didn’t sparkle, shimmer, or anything else to indicate it was anything other than regular dirt or ash. Their clothes would be caught in the destruction, as well.
So if somebody dropped out of sight for a while and nobody knew about it, we did our best to track them down and count them among those who survived.
“Did they catch the people who did it?” I tried to keep my voice from cracking. Even if the cops caught them in the act, it still wasn’t illegal to destroy a vampire. Property? Yes. Vampires? Had no standing or protection under the law, even though the government expected them to pay taxes. Vampire rights were caught in a quagmire of legislation hell. The laws were deep-sixed time and again by a flood of terrified voters. Given our predator nature, I kind of understood. But truth was, anybody who went out and bought a gun was actually more dangerous than we were. Hell, because of the current legal situation, any freak could come along and dust me and the courts wouldn’t blink an eye. Anybody could kidnap me and lo
ck me in a room for a hundred years, leaving me to starve and go mad, and not one jury in the land would convict them.
She shrugged. “A couple. Two of them managed to catch themselves in the blast. They’re hurt but alive. The rest vanished. The men will be charged with destruction of property and domestic terrorism. The group came prepared, I’ll tell you that. The security cameras caught the action on film—at least until one of the guys shot the camera down. They left a scattering of pamphlets, which directly ties their actions to the Seattle Tattler headline.”
Twenty-three dead. At least, twenty-three that we knew of. “What happened to the rest of the vampires living in the complex?”
Nerissa shook her head. “Don’t know yet. Their apartments escaped damage, we think. The building is still standing, thanks to the earthquake retrofitting—it was the one thing that held up the structure after the explosion. But it won’t be for long. Nobody can get in there. It’s too dangerous because the metal is so twisted that a structural engineer says it could come down at any time. So any rescue workers have been held up.”
Wearily reaching for another cookie, she rubbed her temples, squinting. “Man, I need the sugar. I am so tired, and so stressed. But I have to go back in an hour or so, now that sunset’s here. We’ve been waiting for the vamps to wake up and manage to find a way out. We figure that most can escape out of the building via the hallway windows. The majority of apartments don’t have windows because of the sunlight—which is why it’s a vampire-only complex. It wouldn’t be legal for anyone still living to rent there due to the lack of egress.”
I stared at the table, a bleak mood washing through me. “What did Governor Sarkness say about this?”
Camille snorted. “His usual spiel. Such a tragedy, we will find who did it, blah blah blah . . . You know that this isn’t going to bode well for the Vamp Rights bill. Sarkness fought against the Supe Rights bill as well, but that one managed to pass even with his opposition. You know he’s going to find a way to make these attacks bounce back on the victims and claim it’s their own fault. They were asking for it, and if they didn’t want to be attacked, why did they come out of the coffin sort of crap.”
Darkness Raging Page 4
