by Lisa Olsen
The old man nodded, reaching for the paper again. Bishop watched the pen scratch across the paper before his eyes dipped back to the journal and he turned it to the last page.
Chapter Nineteen
“Remember, we’re here to capture, not kill,” I reminded Carter again. Okay, so maybe it was overkill. We’d already gone over the plan a bazillion times, but I wanted to be absolutely sure we were on the same page before I left him on the balcony, knowing exactly how deadly he could be with his bow.
“I still say this is a waste of time.”
“You leave it all to me. How do I look?”
“Like jailbait.”
“Good, that’s exactly what I was going for.” I hadn’t had anything in my wardrobe suitable for the night’s activities, so I’d stopped off at the mall at Forever 21. I found the cutest pink skater skirt, definitely a few inches shorter than I was normally comfortable wearing, especially with the midriff baring half tee I paired with it. Adding a pair of heeled sandals that made me totter like Bambi on ice, I pulled my hair up into a high ponytail and added a sheer, pink lip. Simple and youthful – the exact opposite of my usual look as Elder of the West. I’d never met the target in person, and I was counting on him not recognizing me.
I’d decided on a version of predator and prey, the game I’d learned from Amunet, only I had a very specific target that night. Carter’s investigative skills had led us to a very bad character, Joseph Papanetti, or Joey Pops, as he was known on the street. He was almost definitely responsible for some of the more gory deaths in the city.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay down there on your own?” he asked, and I was quick to reply.
“Oh sure, no problem.” I’d taken on tougher guys in my day. Tougher girls, even.
“I could just pick the guy off when he leaves.”
“Are you saying you don’t think I can get the guy to follow me out of the bar?” I huffed, hand on my hip. Boy, was I bluffing, I had no idea what I was doing, but Carter gave in all the same.
“No, I think he’d have to be blind not to take the bait, I just don’t see the need for this subterfuge. Can’t we kill him and be done with it?”
“I told you, no killing. I want to talk to the guy and make sure he’s the one we’re looking for before we do anything drastic.”
“I’m telling you, he’s guilty. You read the dirt I got on him.”
“I know.” I would’ve wanted to take action against him even if I hadn’t suspected him of playing too rough with his food. Overweight and balding, the man had earned little respect as a human, and he’d taken full advantage of his vampiric influence to throw his weight around now that he’d joined the undead club. Surrounding himself with beautiful women, fancy cars, a ritzy condo overlooking the bay bridge, Joey Pops was living the good afterlife – at the expense of others. A little digging around revealed he was famous for going through his women faster than a carton of milk, and he liked them young. Hence my outfit.
The first thing I did when Carter brought me the guy’s file was check into his papers, curious to see who could’ve Sired a sleaze like that. But all I got was a name on his record that went to a dead guy, Saul Workman. An actual dead guy, not an undead guy… you know what I mean. There was no way of knowing if his parentage was forged or if Saul was a super bad judge of character. Technically, I had no legal reason to do a thing to the guy under vampire law, so I couldn’t approach him as the Elder, but I intended to neuter him before the night was through.
“Just be careful. I can’t protect you while you’re in the bar, only when you’re outside.”
“Relax, I got this.”
I wasn’t looking forward to going into the cigar bar that Joey Pops liked to frequent, but there were worse things than stinking like smoke, and if all went well, I wouldn’t have to be there for very long. One of the few smoking establishments left in the city, the upscale bar catered to pretentious people who didn’t mind paying top dollar to rot their lungs. Joey Pops had a regular table in the back where he puffed Montecristos like they were going out of style. The bar wasn’t even half full, the music low key with a Latin beat.
Anja… on the prowl. You can do this. Pasting on a bright smile, I marched up to the doorman and caught his will with mine. “I don’t have any ID and you don’t think I’m twenty-one. You will not help me no matter what I ask you to do,” I commanded for his ears only. “I’m such a blonde, I forgot my ID at home. It’s not that big of a deal, right?” I said much louder, upping the wattage of my smile.
“I’m sorry, miss. Without ID I can’t let you in.”
Perfect response, I couldn’t have scripted it better. “What? I’m totally twenty-one. Actually, I’m almost twenty-two, I swear.”
“I’m sorry, miss. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
“But I’m supposed to meet this guy I met online.” My voice took on a wheedling tone as my gaze swept the bar. Joey Pops was there alright, and looking. “I’m just a little early. If you kick me out I’ll never get to meet him.”
He waved me to the door as if shooing a fly. “That’s not my problem.”
“But I can’t hang out waiting for him outside. What if I get mugged?”
“Why don’t you call your friend and arrange to meet somewhere else?”
“I can’t, my cell is dead. Can I use your phone maybe?” I gave him my best pretty please smile, but the compulsion held.
“No, our phone isn’t for customers.”
“Look, can’t you help me out? Okay, so I’m not supposed to be in here. But I won’t even drink, I promise. You can tell the bartender not to serve me. What if this guy is my soulmate?”
“I’m sorry, you’re going to have to leave.”
“Fine!” I yelled, turning on my heel to stomp out the door. To make sure I had his complete attention, I dropped my purse on the way out, bending over to pick up the contents, giving everyone in the place a pretty decent view of my… assets. And then I got the heck outta there before they caught sight of my face, stained with embarrassment over the ploy.
Outside, I started down the street at a fair clip, not worried about him being able to keep up. It was more important to lure the scumbag into Carter’s range, preferably out of sight from prying eyes. I headed for the bus stop across the street, pretending to study the schedule while I waited. Sure enough, I could smell him coming a half block away, the miasma of smoke following him into the mild night air.
“You need a ride, sweetheart?” he called out, the cigar caught between his teeth.
“Oh, no thanks,” I said, darting a nervous glance in his direction. “I’m waiting for my boyfriend to pick me up.”
“It’s not safe for a young thing like you to be out here alone at night,” he insisted. “How old are you?”
“I’m old enough to know not to accept rides from strangers,” I replied, looking around like I was afraid to be alone with him. He hadn’t gotten too close, which worked in my favor – he hadn’t noticed I wasn’t human.
“Hey, I’m trying to be a nice guy here, do the right thing, you know? I don’t feel good leaving you out here all alone. How about I give you a ride to the transit center? My car’s right over there.”
Frak. I was about to make my move when a couple came out of the bar. Him I could handle, but I’d rather not involve witnesses. “No thanks, I think I’ll walk.” I got a few steps away, moving slowly while I waited for the couple to round the corner.
Joey Pops didn’t let me get too far though. “Honey, I don’t think you understand. It’s not safe for you to be alone out here at night.” He fell into step beside me, grabbing me by the arm. “Want to know how I know?”
“How?” I breathed, letting him jerk me to a stop.
“Because of guys like me.” His lips stretched wide, fangs descending in what was meant to be a terrifying smile.
“You’re right. It absolutely is dangerous out here on the streets at this time of night,” I replied, dro
pping the scared bunny routine. “That’s why I always bring a friend with me.”
Right on cue, an arrow erupted through his chest, neatly skewering his right lung, avoiding his heart by a few inches. The wood was enough to send him into instant paralysis, but not so bad a wound as it would take feeding him to rouse him once we pulled it out.
“Is that what you wanted?” Carter’s voice came over the comm in my ear.
“Pretty much. Good shot, by the way,” I added, snapping off most of the arrow shaft so it was less noticeable. To anyone who passed by he’d simply look passed out drunk. Unless they got too close, of course, and saw the bloody stump in his chest.
“He didn’t make it hard, posing like that. What an asshole.”
“Get down here and help me with him before someone comes along, okay?”
“I’m already on my way.”
Sure, I could’ve carried him on my own, but that would’ve attracted attention, a bitty thing like me carrying the heavyset guy around like a rag doll. Carter was down in a jiffy anyway, and we hauled him up between us.
“He said his car was down the street. Should we see which one is his?” Carter asked. “Reach in his pocket and see if you can find his keys.”
“Eewh, you reach in his pocket. I’m already closer to him than I ever wanted to be.”
“Fine,” he muttered, digging for the keys and pressing the remote once he found them. A silver Lexus flashed its lights and chirped, about a block away. “Nice,” he approved, and we headed for the car. “I’ll drive.”
What was it with men and driving? Not that I was so eager to get behind the wheel, but why did guys always have to be the one to demand the privilege? I didn’t feel like arguing over it though, so I claimed shotgun after we dumped Joey into the back seat. I hoped he bled all over the upholstery.
“You sure about this?” Carter asked as the engine roared to life.
“Let’s stick with the plan. It’ll be fine, I promise.”
Twenty minutes later, we had Joey Pops propped up on a dining room chair in the middle of his living room. Carter had a pair of pliers in his hand, poised to pull the arrow out of his chest.
“Don’t you want to tie him up or anything?” he asked, openly skeptical no matter how many times I reassured him.
“That won’t be necessary,” I replied with absolute conviction. He’d been turned less than five years ago, I could compel him in my sleep. “Go ahead, pull it out.”
“Fine, but I’ll be ready to stick it back in him if he freaks out.”
The second his eyes opened, Joey Pops started squawking. “JesusmotherfuckingChrist! What the hell…”
I was ready for him, catching hold of his will before he finished the sentence. “Calm down, it doesn’t hurt that bad.”
Predictably, Joey settled down, his eyes less clouded with pain as he peered up at me. “Hey, you’re the girl from the street. What’s going on, man?”
“Shut up and listen to me. I only want you to speak when I ask you a direct question. Do you understand?”
“I understand,” he nodded, his voice wooden.
“Good,” I nodded approvingly, giving Carter a wink. “My friend tells me you’ve been a bad boy, Joey. He says he thinks you might even be responsible for a lot of the killings in town lately. Is that true?”
“Yeah, I’ve killed a lot of people.”
The way he said it, as though he was talking about catching fish made me sick to my stomach. “What about the one I saw on the news last week. Maria Santos. Did you kill her?”
“Yeah, maybe. There was a Mary chick, I think her name was. She had dark hair and smallish tits. She didn’t have an accent or nothing, but it could’ve been her.”
“Where did you dump her body?” Carter asked, but Joey remained mute.
“Answer him,” I prompted.
“I left her in an alley behind the YMCA on Mission.”
“That’s her,” Carter confirmed. “This is definitely our guy.” His hand tightened on the bloody arrow, but my compulsion held and he didn’t stake him.
“Joey, I want you to listen to me very carefully,” I said, leaning down to get his full attention. “You will never kill anyone ever again. In fact, you won’t feed from humans anymore at all. You don’t like how they taste. You don’t want to touch them, you don’t want to look at them. If you get the urge to hunt, you’ll go into the woods and hunt deer or squirrels or something. Understand?”
“Understand,” he parroted back, but Carter remained skeptical.
“You can’t seriously think that’s going to work. As soon as we leave he’ll go back to being the scumbag he is and probably kill the first person he comes across to heal the damage we did to him.”
“Actually, he’s going to do any little thing I ask him to. Aren’t you, Joey Pops?”
“Yes.”
Carter stared at me like I belonged in an asylum. “What makes you think so?”
There was no way to avoid telling him my secret, it was the only way we’d be able to work together. “Because I can compel vampires the same as humans or shifters.”
“No one can compel vampires.”
“Man, would my life simple up if that were true,” I sighed. “It’s rare, but I can do it right enough. So can Ellri, by the way, they can compel anyone except for other Ellri.”
Carter digested that for a few minutes his expression clouding as he reached the inevitable conclusion. “Have you ever compelled me before?”
“Well…”
“What did you compel me to do?” His eyes narrowed.
I couldn’t blame him for being upset. “That’s how I got you to leave England without a fight.”
“I left because it was time to move on,” he protested and I shook my head.
“Only because I made you think so. I’ve also kept you from killing anyone since that other night we met with Detective Mathis.”
“No, I agreed to hold off until I saw your plan. I didn’t…” A pucker of fear appeared on his brow. “You can’t actually compel another vampire, can you?”
I could see a demonstration was in order. Joey Pops had remained silent through the entire exchange, head pinging back and forth as he watched us. “Joey, I want you to cluck like a chicken,” I said with another burst of compulsion. It wasn’t even all that hard, his willpower was almost nil. Right on cue, Joey went into his best impression of a chicken. He didn’t get up and strut like one or anything, but a steady stream of bawks came out of him.
Carter’s face remained skeptical, but I could tell I had him thinking about it.
“Okay, stop clucking now and tell me your most embarrassing memory,” I asked, figuring that might be more impressive.
“My brother once tickled me until I crapped my pants, right in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner,” Joey replied without missing a beat, his face coloring the moment he started to speak.
“Do you believe me now, or should I ask you your most embarrassing memory next?” I raised a brow at him, but Carter was too busy gaping in surprise.
“Holy shit! Do you realize what this means?”
“It means we don’t have to kill anyone, like I said.”
“It means you can do anything you want to. You can make vamps stop hurting humans altogether.”
“How would I go about doing that? I can make the law pass, sure, but what good will that do if the people don’t obey it? I’d have to march every vampire in the territory before me and compel them to follow it. And it’ll only work on vampires that I’m strong enough to compel, anyone older than me and it’s hit and miss. No, what we’re doing is better. We’ll take out the few bad apples in the barrel and the rest will settle down. We can’t send all the vampires in town hunting in the woods.”
“Why not? Vampires can survive on animal blood.”
I looked at him sharply. We’d never discussed his feeding habits, and I’d assumed he fed from people, just as humanely as possible. “Is that what you do?”
“For the most part, yes. I supplement with bagged blood from time to time to keep my strength up, but I never feed from people directly. If I can do it, so can they.”
I wasn’t convinced that was the answer. There was no reason to make such a drastic change if vamps could learn to exercise control, that’s all I was asking for. “Most of them know how to feed responsibly and I’d rather not muck around with people’s minds more than I need to.” Though I felt no remorse in rewiring Joey Pops’ brain. I could tell there was more that he wanted to say on the subject, but Carter fell silent, lost to his own thoughts.
“How long have you been able to do this?” he asked finally.
“Since I was first turned, though I didn’t find out about it until much later.” And boy howdy, had it messed with my life. Things might’ve turned out very differently between Bishop and me if the whole compulsion thing had never come between us. Would I still be with him now? Would we still be in Vetis while he worked for Angel? Or would I be the Elder of the West? That one thing had set my life on a completely different path.
At the same time it’d saved my bacon more than once, and overall, I liked where I’d ended up. There were by far worse problems to have than being able to make others do your bidding, but every once in a while I wondered… what if?
“I can’t believe I’ve never heard of the possibility before.”
“I’m guessing it’s not something most of us advertise, and it’s very rare these days. It’s because my Sire was an Ellri, that makes me one of the draugen. Sylvius was one, I’m not sure who else is left.”
“Then Jakob could make more of you with the ability, if he wanted to.”
“Jakob can pretty much do anything his heart desires as an Ellri,” I allowed. “But I don’t think he’s keen to make an army of draugen anytime soon. It’s not something I’ve talked to him about in great detail though. Listen, are you okay with this? I know most people don’t like to find out they can be compelled at any time.”
“No, I’m good. I mean, I’m not crazy about the idea of you making me cluck like a chicken anytime you get bored, but I trust you to do what’s right.”
