Eli looked up from his laptop and smiled. “One shot fired.”
He was prone to barge forward on any project, and that’s exactly what he’d done tonight. Katrina was far more methodical and would have preferred taking time to find out what level of threat this person was going to be and then develop a plan to neutralize her. Eli liked to shoot first and ask questions later. Sometimes that was great. Sometimes it made a huge mess. It remained to be seen how this one would turn out.
“What did you do?” She was almost afraid to ask. His glee at his own action was evident, and she was afraid he might have gone overboard. That could cause all kinds of mayhem she didn’t want to deal with right now.
“No grand gesture yet. A little warning, that’s all. If she’s like most humans, she’ll get the drift and back off. They’re such cowards. Shout boo at them, and they crawl right back under the covers.”
That he’d exercised restraint was surprising. Eli was young and idealistic. In some respect those qualities were very admirable. She would need his youth and vigor for the task ahead. They were heading into a war many centuries in the making. It was internal as well as external. Most of the old ones were entrenched in the ways of the past, and though she believed she had them all on board at this point, many were truly comfortable in the shadows they didn’t want to abandon. They were going to need a push to get them into the light, so to speak.
Others, like Katrina, wanted much more, and the enthusiasm of the up-and-comers like Eli would give them the power they needed to make the long overdue move. However, the young were so enthralled with the strength of their new reality, they believed themselves invincible and thought it would take only the strength of a vampire to win this war.
They were wrong. Eli was wrong. Humans were persistent, and a great many were far from powerless. She had never underestimated them and didn’t plan to now. It was one of the reasons she’d survived, thrived, for as long as she had. For everything to work as she’d designed would require perfect moves. All the chess pieces had to be in place. No surprises and no missteps.
“Tell me exactly what you did.”
He did, and while it was fairly low-key, she wasn’t convinced it would be effective. Sometimes Eli didn’t think through the big picture, and some day that would get him into trouble and she wouldn’t be there to save him.
“She won’t stop.” Katrina had come up against the type before. They were determined and, worse, fascinated. This Dee person would see a message like the one Eli had sent her as a challenge and keep right on digging. In fact, she’d probably dig even harder. Yes, she was going to be a problem.
“She’s smart enough to realize it’s in her best interest to back off. She’ll take heed.”
He was confident about his threat’s effectiveness, and she did like that about him, even if at a fundamental level he was wrong. Confidence came in handy if placed correctly. Somehow she would teach him the path he’d need to take in order to survive. Later, once her plan was fully realized, she’d need someone like Eli at her side. So far, they made a good team, and he was the lead contender for the job. It would take too much time to train someone else to step into his place. “Email me everything you have on her, and we’ll talk later.”
“It’ll be fine, Boss. Trust me.”
She held up her hand and shook her head. “I trust you, Eli. I never would have turned you if I had any doubts about your loyalty. It is a two-way street, though, and you must trust me as well. I have a great deal more experience with the fickle nature of humans. I will be the one to make the call on your writer.” In terms of loyalty, he was true. But his misplaced confidence in his abilities had her worried.
His face paled, which was a feat given how pale his normal complexion was. Sunned wasn’t a look any of them sported. “Boss, I’ve never trusted anyone more than you.”
She waved her hand. Of course he did, though she was pleased to see that her words hit home. “Go now. Send me what you have. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
He studied her and seemed satisfied with whatever he saw in her face. She surmised it was her superiority. Regardless of the power and strength he’d embraced when he was brought into her world, he also understood that he would never match her. It was more than respect; it was reality. The smart ones figured that out quickly. The not-so-smart ones? They weren’t around to attest to what had happened to them.
When her computer popped on, reflecting that a message had been received, she sat down and opened the zip file Eli had sent. The first folder held a picture of a handsome woman with short, spiky hair and eyes that shone with deep intelligence. An interesting face and one she would remember. She opened the next three folders and read with growing fascination. She wasn’t just a run-of-the-mill writer. Much more to this one, and Eli had read her right. As had she. This woman was going to be a problem. Katrina continued to stare at the picture on the screen and smiled. True, the timing was bad, but sometimes challenges could lend a little spice.
Chapter Three
Patience had certainly been Sasha’s greatest virtue since that horrible day in 1918. Even before then she’d been the calming influence in the eye of any storm. She’d refined that trait in the years since, and it had stood her well, like now. She had waited and waited for the moment to be right. Finally it was all coming together. It was time to mobilize the troops, so to speak, and to be at the ready.
She sat at her computer and opened the files that only she had access to. The first one pulled up a picture that still filled her with ice even after all these years. It brought back so many unwanted memories, filled with sights, sounds, and smells that made her want to throw up. If she lived to be a thousand years old, she would always taste the blood, smell the scent of weapons fire, and hear the screams of her family. Most of all she’d remember the scent of her.
Thousands of baths and showers and she’d never been able to wash that smell away. It clung to her in the same way tree sap would stick to her hand after picking up a broken branch. When this was all done, would she finally be free of her and that smell? Would she be able to remember and not want to retch?
Leaning back in her chair she read through file after file on her screen, even though she didn’t need to. She could recite the words from memory. Easy enough to do, considering she’d written every single one. She’d never forget, and painful as it was, she wanted to remember every detail. When it got really quiet, she could hear the screams of her sisters and her little brother, like right now, and it brought tears to her eyes and a fire to her heart. Olga had been holding her hand, and she could still feel her fingers as they slipped away from hers.
A sound outside caught her attention, and she raised her head, banishing the sights, sounds, and smells of a long-ago night. For a second she thought her guest had returned and then realized it was nature doing its thing. She wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled. The rain on the balcony roof sounded like a hundred elves tap-dancing. She loved the sound of rain. It reminded her of home. Kind of silly to think about it like that, considering this had been her home for more than twenty years. It didn’t matter how many years she lived in one city. The Winter Palace continued to hold a special spot in her heart and was the one place she would always think of as home. She closed her eyes, transported back to a different piece of her past, when she could hear another rainstorm as drops fell outside in the elaborate gardens where they had run and played as children. She continued to smile even as the memories filled her with sadness for that which was lost forever. Since the day they’d been taken away, she hadn’t stepped foot again in the palace, and really, what would be the point? She wasn’t the girl who’d been dragged away screaming anymore. That girl had died a long time ago, and she couldn’t go back.
She shouldn’t feel sorry for herself. She lived, not quite in the way she would have liked to, but lived nonetheless. In the intervening years, she’d done more than survive; she’d excelled. No one who’d known her in her previous life would have e
ver guessed she’d become the driving force behind an international business, yet here she was. It also gave her an advantage. The one who’d preyed on the pretty young woman when she’d been the most vulnerable would never see her coming.
Her computer beeped and her eyes opened. Big surprise. Rodney was sending her another file. For a guy who lived off the grid, he certainly was adept at lurking about in it, albeit undetected. It had been a very long time since she’d been around a man she liked and admired as much as Rodney. She wished he’d come to work for her, because she could appreciate both his kind of skill and his kind of crazy. It was a dynamic combination.
His message was typical in its brevity: We have another problem.
***
Prima was already in the kitchen with the espresso machine rolling by the time Dee made it out of bed. She could smell the heady scent of the fresh-ground coffee as she walked down the hallway. In the big picture it had been a quick night. She’d managed a whopping three hours of sleep and Prima four. Or at least four after she’d arrived at Dee’s house. Nobody was a better sport than her smart and free-spirited friend. It was that spirit that allowed her to be open to forces that others pooh-poohed.
Dee was, relatively speaking, a down-to-earth kind of person. She believed in what she could see and touch. Even given the kind of research she did for her novels where she dived into the minds of some very warped people, she still believed that what made some of them so very bad wasn’t paranormal; it was simply a combination of biology and choice. Some were victims of physiological damage, and some just flat-out chose to be evil. Even her desire to write the vampire book was rooted in reality. The folk legends that gave rise to the belief that vampires existed fascinated her. Vampires didn’t exist, but that didn’t mean they weren’t fun to write about.
Given her strong belief in the quite real, she also believed in what Prima possessed. There was no rational explanation for what she could do, yet Dee totally bought in. The why of it was simple: she’d seen it be true more than once in a way that no one could figure out, and plenty of very educated people had tried. It was completely awesome, and she trusted Prima like no one else. It was the only piece of what she considered to be paranormal that she bought into.
“Okay, sister, so I slept on it for a little bit.”
“And?” Dee took the latte that Prima handed her and sipped. It was good. Very good. Amazing what a good espresso drink could do for the soul.
Prima stared at her over the rim of her own mug. “First of all, I’m taking this machine home with me when I leave today.”
Dee raised an eyebrow. “Okay…” She’d give Prima anything she wanted, and that included her new espresso machine. Besides, she handled it better than Dee did. Clearly it was meant for her.
“No okay about it. It’s the price you pay for getting me up in the middle of the night, and that thing,” she pointed to it, “is awesome. Secondly, I think you’ve touched on something pretty freaking weird, and for me to say that, you know it is far out there.”
She didn’t have to explain that concept to her. Prima was open to everything, and if it was odd to her, then all she could say was whoa. It was scary and exciting all at the same time. The stuff she’d come across in her research, at least in her mind, was fascinating. Prima had mentioned it too as she’d showed her what she’d been working on before the message came through.
“It’s related, don’t you think?”
Dee continued to sip on the latte, the fragrance of good coffee and steamed milk filling the kitchen with a heavenly scent. She hated to think she was addicted to the stuff, but it was kind of hard to deny. She was a stereotypical Washingtonian who loved their coffee at the level of a true snob. She’d order a replacement machine this morning.
“I do think, as a matter of fact.”
She felt immensely relieved. Until this second she hadn’t realized how important it was to have Prima see the situation like she did. Dee was smart enough to acknowledge she was a storyteller by trade and it was easy for her to see a story where perhaps none existed. This didn’t feel that way to her, and she was glad she wasn’t the only one. “It has to be. Too coincidental. I mean, how much research have I done over the years, and I’ve never come across anything quite like this before. It’s freaky.”
“Actually,” Prima set her cup down, “I do more than think. I know it’s all related.”
The look on Prima’s face earlier this morning when she’d sat down at Dee’s computer was classic shock. In fact her face had gone so pale she’d been worried her friend might pass out. She hadn’t, but her words had chilled Dee. “You’re in danger.” It wasn’t cool to have a psychic declare danger.
Now she studied her friend over the rim of her mug. “What did you mean earlier about me being in danger? You didn’t really give me a very good explanation, and I was too tired at the time to push it. Now that we’re both all rested up, time to explain”
Prima snorted. “Rested up? Are you serious? Like you’re not tired now? How long did you sleep? Two? Three hours?”
A mirror wasn’t necessary to confirm she looked like crap. It would take more than three hours of sleep to banish the black circles under her eyes or put some color back into her face. Her normally spiky hair that she found so entertaining was flattened against her skull in a not-so-flattering way. Her cool blue streaks looked more like she’d been playing in finger paint and smeared some in her hair. In short, she was about as far from hot as she could get. “Okay, yes, I could use some sleep, and trust me, I’m not arguing that point. The thing is, I’ll get it, later. There will be plenty of time to snooze tonight. Right now, I want to know who or what is threatening me and why they care about some writer doing research. Am I getting punked by some computer hacker who finds it fun to screw with people?” It seemed a reasonable assumption. Who else could or would be able to track her searches? Had to be somebody sitting in a dark basement with lots of skills and no friends.
Prima set her mug down and shook her head. Her face showed signs of fatigue as well. Maybe dragging her out in the middle of the night wasn’t her best idea. No maybe about it. “Not even close.”
“So who?” It had to be somebody who had mad computer skills because it was the only thing that made sense. Well, sense in a strange way. She’d researched all sorts of odd and unsavory things as she’d worked on her novels. This was the first time that background work had resulted in a threat. The many faces of Imre and Katrina floated through her mind.
“You won’t believe me.”
She looked over at Prima and tilted her head. It was an unusual statement, given the fact that Prima knew Dee had no misgivings about her skills. “I don’t know how you can say that to me. Of course I’ll believe you. I always have, and I’ve never doubted a single thing you’ve shared with me.”
Prima shook her head slowly. “All that’s true, and on top of that, you’ve been my best friend. This time is different. The truth of what’s going on here is outside your wheelhouse.”
Well, that was insulting. She created fiction for a living. They’d known each other ever since she’d moved here. In fact, she was the first person Dee had met in Spokane and they’d been fast friends ever since. “Wheelhouse, my ass. What in the world are you talking about? I’m writing a damn vampire novel. Nothing’s outside of my imagination at the moment.”
Prima wrapped her hands around her mug again. Her eyes were downcast as she seemed to study the drink as if she’d never seen it before. Finally she brought her gaze up to meet Dee’s. Her eyes were hard to read, something in them she’d never seen before. “It came to me in crazy detail the moment my fingertips touched your screen.”
Ha. So she’d been wrong about Prima not being able to get anything psychic from the computer. “What came to you? And since when can you read something from a monitor?” Prima wasn’t usually this cryptic, but what she said next was nothing Dee could have ever imagined.
“I didn’t get a psychic reading
from your monitor. It’s what you showed me that brought it all into focus. My psychic abilities have nothing to do with this.”
“Have nothing to do with what came into focus? You’re driving me crazy. Just spit it out.”
“The vampires.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Dee nodded. She’d never known Prima to be so vague or mysterious, at least not with her. “No big surprise there. Like I said, I’m writing a vampire novel. Always wanted to do something in the paranormal genre, and now I am. That’s how I discovered all this stuff.”
“No, Dee.” Prima’s words were slow and steady. She put her a hand on Dee’s shoulder. “I’m not talking about your imagination and the characters you’re crafting. I’m talking real walking, talking, blood-drinking vampires.”
***
Katrina was sitting in her chair thinking when Eli came in again. “Yes?” She was not happy about the interruption.
He was shaking his head. “Things in this century certainly aren’t as easy as before. In the good old days, you could make a threat and they would listen. Humans, the ones that knew of us, had a high regard for our superiority and what we could do to them. Or for them, if they behaved. They were respectful. Now they’re bloody insufferable.” A look of disgust crossed his handsome features. “It gets on my nerves.”
Sometimes his refusal to assimilate into the world as it moved and changed got on her nerves. For her, each passing year brought something new and interesting. Yes, it was easier in some ways back when there were no phones, no cars, and definitely no internet. It had also been dirty, smelly, and far less comfortable. Hunting in those days was less complicated, as was controlling the curious. She’d take more difficult if it allowed for clean and comfortable. This century suited her in so many ways.
She narrowed her eyes as she studied him. His expression was too tight, his words too clipped. “Are you trying in your indirect way to tell me you’ve failed?”
Drawing Down the Mist Page 4
