by Shona Husk
“Yeah, I know.” There was nothing he could say to make up for not calling and saying he was alive right away.
“I’m glad I knew you were alive before I saw the footage.”
Finley took a swig of beer. Really, this was more of a spirits occasion. How could he have made that error of judgment? “I was going to call you, but I needed Julian’s help.”
His father made a noise that could have meant anything. Disbelief that Finley was ever going to call? Disappointment at the barely concealed lie?
“So you are up and walking? No lasting effects?” How did his father manage to be concerned at the same time as making him feel guilty and like a shitty excuse for a son?
He was a shitty excuse was the short answer.
“I’m fine, back to work tomorrow. I didn’t heal myself too fast.” He couldn’t have done it any faster because he was too out of practice. Sure, he could still ride a push bike, but he couldn’t race, and he doubted he could do any of the tricks he’d done as a kid. Not that he was ever going to admit to having rusty magic skills to his father.
“I’m glad. I worry about you. Especially now.”
“Julian told me about the Guardian attack. I’m glad Leira survived.” He wasn’t completely hopeless he could remember the names of his siblings’ partners.
“It’s not just that. Did he explain that someone has been making Albanex? We think that’s why the Guardians are becoming less cautious in their attacks.”
“I know that too. I’m not totally out of the Albah loop.” Why an Albah would be using banned magic to make others immortal, or more correctly less mortal and more undead, he had no idea. Who would want to give up breathing and sex and replace it with blood drinking?
Not him.
“There is an Albanex in L.A., which means there are probably Guardians hunting it.” His father’s voice was firm. For a moment Finley expected him to try to order him home first as a father and then as king of the Albah. Finley prepared the refusal. He would not be forced home, he wasn’t afraid of vampires or Guardians.
Much.
“I need you to find the Albanex and put it down,” his father said.
Finley hadn’t expected those words and he had no clever lines prepared. “What?”
“We have to be proactive in taking out the Albanex. If we don’t, the humans may realize that vampires are real and all that old lore we have tried to make sure they forgot will resurface. It won’t be just be Guardians hunting us if that happens.”
“I can’t hunt an Albanex.” He had work and social things to go to and he didn’t know the first thing about hunting anything. He didn’t even do mousetraps. There were people who did that kind of thing if he paid them. He’d been mostly out of Albah business since he left home at eighteen. He didn’t join the online chats. He didn’t go home. He’d made a name for himself through hard work and being as human as possible. He didn’t want the responsibility that came with being Albah.
Or the danger.
“There’s no one else who can.”
“I can’t be the only Albah in L.A.” But he’d never seen another. Except Alina…and he wasn’t even sure she was. He blinked and he saw her eyes with the silver in the pupils. If he had to flip a coin as to whether she was human or Albah it would’ve come down on its edge. It was then he realized he was waiting for her to call him, and hoping that she would.
“You’re the only one I trust. There is another family further south but they don’t make contact very often. I can’t ask this of them. You’re closer. You know L.A. and will be able to find its hunting ground.”
Finley finished his beer and pressed the cold bottle to his forehead. He’d known calling Dad was a bad idea. He grimaced. He needed to say no. One word. He didn’t want to be sucked back into Albah dramas, especially not now when he had enough of his own.
“We also believe the Albanex are being made there,” his father said.
Finley swore. He tossed the bottle across the room before catching it on a gust of air and landing it in the trash with a little more force than necessary. “That means there is another Albah here.”
“One who is no longer in contact and who has recreated lost magic.”
“Or who never lost it in the first place.” He drew in a couple of breaths and tried to find some calm. Snapping at his father would not get him anywhere. An Albah who’d walked away from their people. Alina filled his mind again. “Is it possible to have silver in the eyes without the folded ears?”
His father was silent for a moment. “Not that I know of. Why?”
“I ran into someone. I thought they were human at first, but now I’m not sure.” Even if she was Albah he doubted she was the one making vampires in her spare time.
“Do you have a name?”
“Alina Nyx, ice-skater.”
His father typed the name in, the keys of his keyboard clacking. Then he made a noise as if he knew exactly how Finley had run into her. “I see what you mean. It’s her eyes.”
Hearing his father say it reinforced Finley’s belief that she was Albah. A shiver ran through him at the memory of her touch. If she didn’t call would he seek her out? As much as he wanted to, he wouldn’t. If she didn’t call, she’d have decided that he was too much trouble. And he wouldn’t blame her. Vampires and hot redheads weren’t why he’d called. “There’s another issue, which is why I actually called. I have an overzealous fan.” That was putting it politely.
“How overzealous?” His father saw through him.
“They know where I live and reminded me I should be dead.” If it had just been the toy, it wouldn’t have been so bad.
“You need to call the police and report it.”
Was that the best his father could do? “They won’t do anything. Nothing has actually happened.” It wasn’t the first time that someone had left something where he lived, though this building was meant to be secure and it had never happened here before. It had been unsettling the first time and that had just been flowers from a woman who’d thought he’d call. And when he hadn’t, she’d left flowers and texted him for weeks. He couldn’t listen to her songs on the radio without feeling like he’d made a lucky escape by not going back for a second date. The note was another level of creepy.
“And when it does? You nearly died. That smacks of Guardian activity. They could be retaliating after Leira killed one of theirs.”
“If they didn’t want to get hurt then they shouldn’t have started killing us.” Finley had no sympathy for the psychopaths passing themselves off as defenders of humanity.
“It’s too late for those debates. You need to be careful.”
If the Guardians were playing by the old rules he’d get three warnings. Thing was they’d already tried to kill him, twice. Once as a kid but he hadn’t been in the car and then again if he was going to blame them for the race car malfunction. What was happening to him didn’t match up with how Guardians behaved. It wasn’t how the average overly keen fan behaved either.
“Not everything can be pinned on the Guardians. Shit happens sometimes.” If his stunt double had been in the car they’d have been scraping him off the wall and picking up pieces of the car with a vacuum.
“Do you think Alina is part of it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.” He doubted Alina had sent the e-mails. “She certainly wasn’t an Albanex.” She may not even be Albah. Maybe the bloodline was so diluted that only part of the characteristics had come through and she had no magic. If that was happening the Albah were closer to extinction that his father thought. He wished he had another beer, but his fridge was empty except for bread that was on its way to inventing a new antibiotic. He needed to go out and get food instead of hiding in his apartment. “Maybe it was just a fault in the car and because I’ve been receiving odd letters I got overly worried.”
His fa
ther sighed. “Promise me you’ll call the cops. Fans send get-well notes, not reminders about how close you came to death.”
“I know, but it started off as just run-of-the-mill stuff.” That there was a chance he had more than one person closing in on his life wasn’t a thought he really wanted to entertain. Even one Guardian was trouble. He’d rather face a swarm of hungry press. “You don’t have the name of an Albah in law enforcement over here?”
“No, you’ll have to deal with humans. Get them to take the details. The more harassment we can record, the more complete the records will be—”
“When I get eradicated.” Finley finished for his father. That’s what this was about. They were trying to get a clearer picture of how the Guardians worked. “Maybe my apartment will burn next. That is their other favorite.”
“Finley…” his father sounded almost pained, as though losing Finley would hurt.
Finley wasn’t buying it though. He was a duty baby. His mother couldn’t wait to ditch him and leave. His father had remarried and had his real family. It was old bitterness, but it was still there and he couldn’t help himself but to indulge in its poison. He knew its burn, and he’d known that calling his father would bring it to the surface. “Don’t.”
His father drew in a breath but was quiet for a moment.
The distance between them wasn’t just half a world. He should’ve been heir to the fractured Albah kingdom, instead he’d run from the unwanted responsibility. He saw no reason to do that for everyone when no one wanted him.
“You’re right this doesn’t fit, but then you live in public and you’ve had stalkers before. The car could’ve been faulty. I thought this job would be safer than your stunt work.”
“They won’t let me do any more driving. The riskiest thing I’ll be doing is taking my shirt off.”
“Just be cautious until we can work out what is going on. If you eliminate the Albanex then maybe we can convince the Guardians that we don’t want Albanex running around killing either.”
His father wanted him to be the poster boy for Guardian-Albah relations. “I don’t think that they will ever be on our side.”
“We made a treaty with them once before.”
“No, we stopping making Albanex and they got sneakier at killing us.” That wasn’t how treaties should work, but then Guardians were dishonest cowards.
“We don’t need Albanex or the danger they bring.”
“We are losing magical technique.” He didn’t know half the things his father did. “That was what the role of the Albanex.” It would act as mentor and the student would ensure it got fed.
His father was silent. The Albah had been dying out at glacial speed for centuries. It had happened so slowly it was only now they were realizing it. He may have walked away from all things Albah but he didn’t want the Albah to die out. For the magic to be lost forever.
“I’ll try not to get killed.” That would really put a dent in his career aspirations. “And I’ll look into the Albanex and its creator.” But only because he couldn’t really refuse without looking like a complete selfish asshole. Besides, he hadn’t promised to do anything but look into it. He hadn’t promised to kill it.
“Thank you. Do you remember how to deal with one?”
“Yeah.” Not really. Silver and beheading he was sure of, the rest not so much. He’d never thought he’d run into one. The ancient Keepers of the Law were sleeping in their tombs and no one was supposed to be making new Albanex. Someone had missed that memo.
“Please be careful.” His father sounded like he actually cared.
“Always.” Just because he did dangerous things for a living didn’t make him reckless. He understood the risks he took and how to minimize them. He trained. He knew how to make a fake fight look good. He didn’t know how to actually fight and kill.
“If you have any problems, call. I mean it, Fin. The Guardians aren’t playing around and the maker will be aware that his Albanex are being hunted down.”
“I get it.” He wished he didn’t. He might have run away from Albah politics and problems but they had chased him, and caught him. “Talk soon.”
They both knew Finley’s version of talking soon could be months.
Chapter 6
Alina stood on the deck, waiting for the breeze to nudge the palm fronds out of the way so she could enjoy the ocean glimpses. Her mother had raved about this place. To Alina it was just another rental. They were never a home, and she was never there long enough to ever get comfortable. She was training or studying. She had assignments that she should be doing. She should use this time to get ahead. If she didn’t get back on the ice that degree in sports physiotherapy was going to come in handy.
The edge of fear, sharper than the blade of her skates, pressed against her and made it hard to breathe. What if she was no good at it? Maybe she should’ve done something else. That she’d even started studying had been another argument with her mother; she’d called it a distraction. Alina had said it was a backup plan because she couldn’t skate forever. She didn’t know how to do anything but skate. It had been her life, for her whole life. And before that it had been her mother’s life. She’d seen the pictures, and she’d heard her mother talk enough times about how her parents had never supported her dream.
But it wasn’t Alina’s dream. She wasn’t sure it had ever been.
She leaned on the railing. Did she even have a dream?
Physiotherapy had made sense at the time, it was a smart option. Not her passion.
She waited for something to pop into her head. There had to be something. Something that she burned to do. Her gaze landed on the signature on her cast. Her lips turned up. She wanted to call him. It had been two days since she’d seen Finley.
Seeing him would cause more arguments.
This time she didn’t care. She pulled out her cell phone and brought up his number. Then hesitated with her thumb over the call button. Maybe he didn’t want to see her and he’d just been being nice, playing along because he didn’t know what else to do. They hadn’t made any promises. The number might be fake. The flowers he’d sent her were in her bedroom, bright pink against the boring white of her walls.
The worst thing he could do was say no.
No, the worst thing he could do was laugh at her for thinking he’d be interested in someone like her. In which case, he was proving himself to be the kind of ass that didn’t care about anything but his next conquest, exactly the person the media made him out to be. He hadn’t acted like an ass with her though. He’d bought her flowers to apologize for something he had no control over.
Only one way to find out who he really was.
She pressed the call symbol and waited, trying not to hold her breath. Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, hammering in her chest and getting faster with every second.
“Hello?” he answered with that cautious tone people used when they weren’t sure who was calling.
Alina let herself breathe again. “Hi, it’s Alina.”
And if he didn’t remember who she was she was hanging up and deleting his number.
“Hi.” His tone changed completely to something filled with warmth. “I thought you might’ve lost my number.”
She smiled. As if. It had washed off her hand, but was safe in her phone. She was tempted to offer an excuse, but had none. She’d wanted to call him the moment she’d gotten home, just to piss off her mother but that was the wrong reason to call. The right reason was that she wanted some fun, a fling. She knew this would burn out fast and she wanted to make sure that she got her time with him. The bonus of making her mother turn a furious shade of red was just icing.
“Wanted to give you a few days to break out of hospital. Are you home now?”
“I am. All better. Miracle recovery and all that.”
“Lucky.” She’d seen the footage, watc
hed it more than once since getting home.
“So I keep getting told. I have about five minutes before I have to be back on set. Not trying to be rude.”
But it felt that way, as though he wanted the call over. “Oh, okay. I didn’t realize you’d be back at work so soon.”
“No rest for the wicked,” he said with a grin in his voice. In the background people were calling out instructions. Maybe he wasn’t lying to give her a polite brush-off and he was at work. “This is your number, right?”
“Yeah.” Who else’s phone would she be calling from?
“I’ll give you a call when I wrap up here? I’m coming,” he called to someone. “That wasn’t even five minutes. I need to go. I will call.”
“Okay. Look forward to it.” She wasn’t sure she believed him, but she’d put her hand out and it was up to him to take it. If he didn’t, she was damn sure she could find herself some other fun. It was time she started dating, again. This time she wouldn’t try to keep it quiet to keep the peace.
For six weeks, until the cast came off, she was going to live and do whatever she wanted. Starting with pizza, which she’d get delivered. Her mother never got takeout delivered. Something about it being too dangerous. It was why they moved on a regular basis too. She’d never understood her mother’s fear, or what she was running from. As a kid, she’d been annoyed at always having to make new friends, but she’d had her skating. As an adult, she found her mother’s behavior weird.
But her mother worked hard and had no other strange behaviors so Alina brushed it aside. The one time Alina had asked, her mother had said it was something about Alina’s father. Making sure he couldn’t take her away. Now though she wasn’t sure. Her father had never made contact even at the height of her fame, which had lasted about sixteen minutes.
She tapped her cast against the railing. Maybe this was the sign her career was over and it was time to start over. That didn’t hurt the way it should’ve. It was something much closer to relief. She inhaled, held it for a moment and considered all the new things she could do. She could study full time. Live her life instead of training, training, training. She’d master those skateboard tricks. She exhaled and smiled. She didn’t have to decide now. For the moment, she was in limbo, waiting for something to happen.
