by Kiki Howell
Constance cut her eyes to the near buried Supreme witch. "Did she tell you anything? Did she agree to submit?"
Dashiell shook his head. "No. Actually, I just got started, but she's resistant. I've made contact with Tristan. He called me not too long ago to meet, so I'm heading there now."
Constance nodded, finally looking at him. Her chin ever so slightly lifted. "Good. Then you know what to do, Commander. We'll take care of the witch, won't we, Takeshi?"
"Hai," he replied, eyeing the witch where he stood.
"Let me, Javen, and Drago know when it is done." Constance walked past him, holding her dress as she settled in front of the witch. "And find Christophe! I can't believe there's so many loose ends to all of this!"
"I'm fairly certain he's dead."
"No body, no death," Takeshi replied softly.
Dashiell popped a stick of gum in his mouth and cocked his head. Seriously? "You know that theory doesn't really work for vampires, right? Sometimes we're fucking ash like Gregory." He glared at the creepy vampire with annoyance. "I took care of him."
Constance crossed her arms. "Well just make sure."
With a sigh, Dashiell walked out, hearing the muffled yells behind him as he left them to their horrid devices.
Constance smiled, revealing her pearly white fangs. "Remelia and I will continue to prime her for a decent, civilized chat. Won't we, Rem? Or Takeshi will show you how Sangri-la was attempted in the old days."
Remelia closed her eyes, readying herself for another round of pain. She was ready to die, but she needed to stay strong for her coven. They were out there fighting for her. Looking.
Her heart ached for Ivana, as she refused to believe that she had nothing but the best intentions. They were both naive, and now everything was falling down.
As she watched Takeshi connect his funnel and tube, she clung to one hope. The vampire Dashiell was right about one thing. She did have a plan B. It was reckless and haphazard, given the information she had, but nonetheless she prayed it would turn things around. She knew the incantation by heart and bled for it before they came to take her. Though her body ached and bled, the thought of the reckoning she called made her feel safe, if only for a second. Her one last weapon to use in this battle.
I do have a backup plan, you Three bastards of hell.
And she will destroy all of you.
Chapter Twelve: Resistance
WATCHING TRISTAN HANG up, Zoë turned her attention to the symbol on the floor. "The vampires are trying to cave the other Supes for dominance. Setting up the other Supes is a good way to eliminate your enemies."
"I'll say," Jay replied. "Ever since last night, there's been skirmishes everywhere. Witches versus Were-shifters, Were-shifters versus Vampires. Before, there was some control but now?"
"It's chaos," Tristan added. "That's just the way The Three likes it. While they are out playing victim, they can manipulate the masses to attack aimlessly. It's only a matter of time the others fight back." He took a step towards Jay. "Have you heard anything about Otto? Is he alright."
Jay frowned, thinking about the Lord of the Were-shifters. Otto "The Lycan" Krause happily made his home in Louisiana after falling in love with the hunter's paradise. Him and his not-so-merry pack of wolves lurked in both the city and the boonies. The beasts with a human heart hunted the vampires, to which Jay was grateful.
"Who Otto? That dude gives me the creeps. There's no news on the street about him. Far as I know, he's alive and well and he's pissed that some of his Were-shifters turned up dead."
Zoë put her hands on her hips. "Lemme guess. He's looking for a vampire responsible?"
Tristan felt her eyes on him and faced her. "Knowing Otto, he's going after everyone he thinks is even remotely responsible. Green Girls, vampires, he'll just consider it open season. All the more reason we need to get moving to sort this out. Or things are going to get bloody."
"Give me a moment to grab something, and we can leave," Zoë said before stepping out of the sanctuary. She closed up her chest after slipping her dagger into her hip sheath.
Finally, the sting of the cravings subsided long enough for her to bring real thought to the situation. She was there for the witches, to protect them. Somehow, Remelia, with baffling skill, had reached out and pulled her from one dimension to this one to help her. She had to make good on her vow where she had failed before. Reaching to zip up her jacket, her eyes lingered over to Tristan, whose back was to her as he spoke to Jay.
I'm here for the witches. The vampires are the ones who will feel my wrath.
But all vampires? Now that she knew the truth, a question clawed at Zoë. Did she truly need the vampire anymore? Her fist tightened as she looked at him. He'd kept his word, which couldn't have been easy considering every 10 minutes she looked at him like dinner. But he was the enemy. All vampires protect their kind. Yes, he wanted vengeance, but that was different than allowing a Black Blood Demon to start slashing through his friends. Would he allow her to seek justice even if it meant destroying the people he's known?
Her eyes watched him intently. His scent was still alluring and powerful. The vampire probably had no idea how close he came to being hers just a short while ago. The pain of resisting kept getting worse with every abstinent episode. How long could she keep that up before the hunger took over? Jay was right. If they couldn't break the bind soon, her vampire would be as good as dead.
Kill him.
Make it quick. Easy. He deserves that much.
The internal suggestion jarred her as she noticed Tristan turning around.
He doesn't deserve to die. He's fighting for someone too. Just a little more time to get to the witches...
But time was not on her side. The other Black Bloods would soon notice she was gone and come looking for her, and put her back in chains. They'd warned her before to stay out of the fray of witches and biters, but when a human called for help, who was she to turn a blind eye? Were they not handed down the decree to protect the human souls from the supernaturals that coveted hem?
The war was becoming too much. Soon, the world of witches, Were-shifters, and vampires would be unveiled to the world of man, and once that happened, life on earth would never be the same. But instead of pride, she was stripped and chained for her disobedience.
Blinking away the thoughts, she finished zipping up her jacket as Tristan and Jay walked up to her.
Jay handed her a keychain. "You can't take my Beast, but there's another truck in the alleyway that runs pretty good. I know you won't bring it back, just like the last car I loaned you, so that's the best you're gonna get."
Zoë accepted the keys and kissed his cheek. "Thank you, Jay. I'll be back to help you rebuild the church."
Jay laughed. Wouldn't that be a sight? Some hot ass demon up on a roof hammering away. The old ladies of his congregation would have a fit. "Uh, don't worry about it. I have a good contractor."
Zoë eyed him suspiciously. "Really?"
Jay shrugged. "Wouldn't I have to in order to deal with this stupid ass shadow world of yours?" Not to mention, he knew all the contractors’ nasty little womanizing secrets. Secrets he wouldn't want to get out to his pretty little pious wife and mother of three. Sometimes absolution came with a price.
"You guys better head out. I'll have my cell if you need me. All hell is breaking loose out there. You better watch your ass out there."
Zoë nodded and walked ahead to climb up the stairs to the garage. Tristan watched her exquisite form glide up the steps before he turned to Jay and extended his hand to shake. Jay looked at it as if it was road kill, and then surprised Tristan by returning the gesture, gripping his hand tightly.
"Saying it was a pleasure would be a lie."
"Agreed."
"But let's just leave it at the fact we didn't kill each other. So that's a good sign."
Tristan nodded. "Fair enough." As Tristan was about to head upstairs, Jay stopped him.
"Speaking of not killing ea
ch other..." Jay reached into his pocket. He couldn't believe he was doing this, but Z made him promise. He never planned on breaking a promise to her. Not ever. He pulled out the bundle of chain and placed it in Tristan's hand.
Tristan frowned in disbelief that the preacher had given him some of Zoë's sully chain.
"Zoë's struggle with enthrallment is no picnic, and it has a breaking point. Do not underestimate her power or her hunger. That blood earlier was just a temporary fix. She will need to kill and feed, or it will just get worse." He sighed. "She's designed to hunt, so if she's denied too much, she can rampage."
Tristan didn't like the sound of that.
Jay continued. "I've never seen her do that, but allies have told me of other Black Bloods who have and it isn't pretty. It's like fishing with dynamite. She'll enthrall large numbers of the soulless to come to her. And then she'll kill them all. Every single one."
Tristan scowled at the mental picture of what that would look like. Terrifying. He clutched the chains in his hands and jammed them in his coat pocket. This was a way to subdue her if it got to be too much.
"Thanks."
"Don't thank me just yet." Jay glanced upward to the stairs, then back to Tristan. "I've seen the way you look at her, Romeo. Just know that Zoë cannot love. She's a fallen one. A demon. She fights. She kills. She... fucks." He cleared his throat. "But then she just kills what she fucks. What you feel is the pull of her enthrallment, and if you give in she'll kill you just like any other vampire. Remember that."
Tristan nodded as he went up the stairs to meet Zoë. Walking along the side, he met her violet eyes near the entrance of the garage.
"Are we leaving or what?," she asked. "What did Jay want?"
Tristan walked past her, barely looking at her. "To reaffirm his hatred of me."
Knowing Jay and finding that totally plausible, Zoë shrugged and followed him to the truck. "This bar... it's not a vampire bar, is it?" she asked. Alarm rattled within her at the thought of finding herself among a buffet of vampires to seduce, enthrall, and kill.
Tristan shook his head. "No, mostly humans. Think of it as a vampire's meat market. But we won't blend in long if you try to make a scene in there."
"Why should I trust one of your vampire buddies? And considering what we know now, why should you?"
"I don't trust anyone, Black Blood, but everybody needs friends. I've known Dashiell for a long time. He's not that big a fan of The Three, but he does his job. Besides, I trusted one of yours, you can stand to trust one of mine. Just don't eat him."
Her eyes narrowed to thin slits. She didn't know why his refusal to call her by her given name irked her, but it felt like a kick in the teeth when he did in that arrogant tone of his. "I have a name. My name's Zoë."
Tristan continued walking ahead. "So you've said. Still could care less."
Ugh, why am I sparing him again? she thought to herself.
He really shouldn't tempt her. That old vampire's blood was just an appetizer, and her craving now was for more than just the kill. A body like his would be a waste if she didn't get some fun out of it first. A strange mixture of lust and sarcasm forced her to reply with a bit more truth than she wanted. "And don't worry. If there's anyone ranking at the top of my menu, it's you, vampire."
Amusement curled Tristan's lips at her haughty retort. "Thanks, I'd hate to think I'm second place, considering all that we've been through."
Zoë followed through the field. The idea of going to the vampire's hunting grounds was less appealing than walking into a buffet of them. Watching them prey upon the humans was not something she was willing to just let happen.
Not while I still have a means to stop it.
"Why are we going there when we should find the witches? We still have a bind to break, and maybe we can team with them to find Remelia."
Tristan laughed. "Yeah, that's a plan," he added with sarcasm dripping from every word. "Did you forget they want to hook, drain, and interrogate me for their missing Supreme?"
Zoë frowned. She wouldn't have let them take him. Didn't he know that?
"We know that The Three has Remelia."
"Wrong. We know The Three has something to do with her disappearance. We've yet to actually prove any of it." He definitely wasn't going to deal with Green Girls right now. Especially knowing that he was tethered to a creature who cared more for their well-being than his own. "For all they know, they'd think we were just trying to save our own skin pointing them back to The Three."
"But she was the one to call me down. She sent for me. Maybe if the witches knew this they would calm down and listen—"
Tristan whipped his head around. "What makes you think they would even listen to you? Hmm? Did they even want your help when they saw you in that church?"
He walked up to her, his eyes locking into hers, watching the realization darken her eyes. "Let me answer that for you, the answer was no. You know why? Because they don't trust you any more than they'd trust me, that's why. You failed them. I know it sucks, but to them, you're not one of the good guys right now." With that, he snatched the keys out of her hand and continued walking to the truck to unlock.
She braced her hands on the passenger door, glaring at him. "You think I don't know that I fucked up? That I left Remelia unprotected?"
Tristan looked off to the field and raked fingers through his hair. "No, I'm saying you think nothing's changed despite you fucking up." He turned and stared at her. "But it did. Trusts are broken. Perceptions are twisted. People are hurt. Shit happens, Ivana."
Zoë froze at his words. It only took him a second to realize he’d called her the wrong name, too.
Clearing his throat, he got in and started the truck. "Let's go get some proof, and maybe we'll have a leg to stand on to convince the Green Girls to stand down."
Driving down the highway, Zoë kept her eyes on the road as Tristan drove. His bright, reflective eyes flashed against traffic headlights. They drove in silence for a bit, but in that silence a small tension was brewing between them.
She had not addressed his outburst of calling her the name of the assassinated vampire. He had seemed very protective of her at Jay's, and there was a level of fascination that a vampire could love or care about another. Were they lovers? They had to be for him to care so deeply, but if so, why did he call her that name?
"Were you in love with her?"
Tristan glanced over, knowing exactly who she was referring to.
"Who?" he asked flatly.
Zoë looked over to him. "The assassinated vampire who you were charged to protect. Ivana."
Tristan sighed. "Why do you care?"
I don't know.
Zoë shifted in her seat. "She's the reason why you got involved in all of this. So I thought—"
"I never touched her," Tristan said quietly. "She was Javen's consort, and I respected that."
He had to admit, there were times he'd wanted to break that rule, and even more times he wondered if he loved Ivana as well. She was brave, kind, and a stubborn crusader. She made him want to believe in a better world, and that sort of influence was bewitching.
His wife, Vidonia had that same effect on him, but in the end, he always came to the same conclusion. "And the answer is no. I didn't love her. But I loved the idea of her. Of what she stood for. All she wanted was peace, and she died because of it."
"Do I remind you of her?"
Tristan shook his head, trying to knock both of their faces out of his mind. "Perhaps. At that moment, you did. Just not for the reasons you may think."
Zoë didn't press further, but saw the struggle in his eyes. His sincerity intrigued her just as much as the idea of him avenging a consort that wasn't even his. He turned down the road to pull into a parking garage. Pulling into a spot, they quickly stepped out when Zoë caught him glaring at her.
"What?"
"I know this is New Orleans and all, but can't you do something about your sword? We're going amongst humans, and the wor
d of the day is inconspicuous."
Zoë straightened up, crossing her arms. "I'm not going anywhere without it. End of story."
He gave her the evil eye.
And she gave one back. "Relax. They won't see it."
Tristan stared at the handle of the blade behind her as he slammed the truck door. She seemed pretty confident, and he wasn't in the mood to fight... at least not with her.
"Fine. Just make sure they don't. Not much we can solve if we're running from the cops."
The streets of the quarter were packed as usual. Tons of faceless, nameless patrons occupied the sidewalks and streets. Now, they were among them, blending into the sea of human and unsuspecting others that hunted tonight.
Side by side, Tristan and Zoë walked to the bar to meet Dashiell. Both of their cautious eyes looked around them, anticipating anything to come at them. Tristan was a target now, and it was only a matter of time before a supernatural saw him and either snitched his whereabouts or engaged them.
Zoë tightened her grip on the dagger riding on her hip as she thought of someone daring to approach them.
Just let them try.
Tristan slipped past a crowd of festive people. The scent of food and alcohol was strong on them. And blood. Another vampire slipped past them following the human herd instead of either of them. Tristan cut his eyes to Zoë.
"Can you pass for vampire?"
Zoë smiled. "And human, apparently. Isn't that what you thought I was at first?" She cut her violet eyes to him that slowly turned hazel. "A blood-bag stripper, was it?"
The corners of Tristan's mouth threatened to curve, but not quite. "More or less."
"I wouldn't be much use to the cause if I couldn't blend in or infiltrate my prey, now could I?" She walked ahead of him, ignoring blatant cat calls from a few men on the sidewalk. She was anxious to hunt, but not the human flavor. Yes, she was thinking something more of the soulless kind.
Tristan crossed the pedestrian-filled street, watching her follow him, then finally catching up. There was far too little he knew about Black Blood Slayers. They were part myth, part horror story to pretty little vampires. However, he didn't doubt her for a second. There was a reason whole broods disappeared without a trace, or other demons that managed to break free onto this plane, only to suddenly vanish.
