She really really didn’t want to do this, but it was obvious she would get no further if she didn’t. She eyed the witch’s aura, feeling sick. She was a black witch, but then necromancy was dark enough to blacken a saint’s soul. It didn’t mean the woman would harm her, or did it?
“Your word that the geas will do nothing more than keep me to my promise.”
“You have it,” Gavin said and turned his attention to the witch. “You will do nothing more than that. Do not make a liar of me, or I swear I’ll make a corpse of you.”
The witch scowled. “No need for threats.”
“It saves time. Do it now, we’re wasting the night.”
“What do I have to do?” Chris said.
The witch approached. “Nothing really. I hold your head between my hands and bind you as you promise. You have to say the words clearly, and use simple wording—nothing ambiguous.”
“Like what?”
“Like... don’t say you promise not to tell the police. That would let you tell someone else, and they could tell the cops for you.”
Rachelle stepped forward. “Say that you will not reveal anything you see or hear while accompanying us, or discuss anything at all that you learn in connection with O’Neal or his maker from this moment on, with anyone not currently present.”
“That’s a mouthful,” she said sourly, but it covered all bases. More to the point, it didn’t actually bind her to anything she objected to, because frankly, although she wanted O’Neal’s maker dead, she had no intention of going down by incriminating herself as an accomplice by talking about it. “Okay, let’s do it.”
The witch took her face in her hands, holding her head so that her palms had good skin contact with her cheeks and began muttering to herself under her breath. Chris shivered, though the woman’s hands were warm. It was the feel of her magic, not her touch that repulsed. She held still and endured. The witch nodded and she set herself to do as she’d promised. Angel smiled at her, but it wasn’t a friendly gesture. It was mocking. The girl knew her aversion to any kind of magic.
“I swear that I will not reveal anything I see or hear...”
* * *
28 ~ House Fabron
David watched the cop compromise her honour and sell her principles to House Lochlain in the name of justice, and felt sad. He had no right to feel that way. Hadn’t he made the exact same choice when he allowed Ronnie to kill for him, and Stephen to sponsor him? He knew he had, but this felt worse. This woman, this cop was a city servant. She wasn’t simply selling her own honour, she was in effect saying the law could not provide those dead women with the justice they deserved, and the only way to repair the injustice was to step outside the law into vigilantism. What made it worse was that she was right. He hated that she was right.
“I heard that the Blood Drinkers are recruiting,” Spence whispered, not wanting to disrupt the binding spell. “How’s that going?”
Spence was a powerful wolf that he’d only just met, but Stephen knew him and thought well of him. He was alpha, but not Alpha of a pack. He was that very rare thing in LA—an unattached loner not considered a rogue. Spence was unique in that status, as far as David knew, and had attached himself to House Lochlain to maintain it. He was considered by the other Houses to be Gavin’s wolf, just as everyone back at the club had been considered Stephen’s. He would dearly love to know how Spence survived without a pack. He couldn’t imagine living without one now, and knew Mist would hate it. How did Spence’s wolf cope without one?
“You heard right, and it’s going fine.”
Spence grunted. “Not what I heard.”
“Maybe fine is overstating a little,” he said sourly, and Spence grinned to hear it. “Maybe I should have said it’s going as fine as can be expected.”
“Yeah. I heard there were some disagreements.”
That was one way of putting it. Lawrence and Darrin were heading up his recruitment teams. That’s what he called them, but in reality, they were the pack’s enforcers. They were unavoidable because putting the word out that his pack was openly recruiting had led to an underwhelming response. Lawrence had warned him what to expect, but he’d wanted to try it. He’d felt, still felt really, that there should be a civilised way to handle the transition within House Edmonton’s territory, but no one else seemed to agree. It was infuriating. There really was no need for violence, but in all cases so far it had come down to exactly that in the end. Shifters seemed constitutionally unable to submit voluntarily. They had to push the boundaries.
Lawrence and Darrin as his deputies had so far sufficed in strong-arming the loners and family sized groups into joining the pack, forcing out of the territory those who refused to join. That would become a problem soon; he could see it looming. The less submissive betas, leavened with a weak alpha or two, had chosen to flee to other packs rather than submit; they could be trouble once settled in their new situations, but what could he do? He wouldn’t sign off on killing them, preferring instead to let them run hoping they would not do what he feared they might. Some would settle into obscurity again he was sure, but not all would. He could see some boundary disputes looming, just as Stephen had warned him would happen, and they would likely be led or spurred on by those who he’d allowed to run.
“Lawrence is a good man to have on your side,” Spence said. “But you can’t let him handle everything for you. Looking weak isn’t the same as being weak, I know that better than most, but allowing him to lead your pack will give people the wrong idea.”
David sighed. Even Spence thought he was shirking. “I lead the Blood Drinkers not him, but I know what you mean. Lawrence has pretty much rounded up everyone he can easily handle now. He’s strong and so is Darrin, but there are a few groups they’re steering clear of. They’re for me and Ronnie.”
Spence’s eyebrows climbed in surprise.
“It’s all part of the grand plan. Don’t worry about it.”
Spence gave him a long considering look, re-evaluating him and what he thought he’d known. “Stephen has been coaching you.”
“Why do you say that?”
“It’s a gambit straight out of the vamp’s Great Game handbook.”
“Stephen didn’t coach me, but we think a lot alike in some things. Not everything; not in anywhere near everything, but in this we do. I want House Edmonton secure so that my pack has a safe place to call home. I’ll do whatever it takes to see that happen. After that, well, I have plans but I’m not sharing them with you. Not unless you want to join up?”
Spence snorted.
David grinned. “No harm in asking. How do you cope without a pack?”
Spence shrugged. “I just do. It’s not as if I don’t hang out with other shifters at Stephen’s club and other places, but I like my own company just fine too. I haven’t felt a need to join a pack yet, and it’s been quite a few years now. I doubt I ever will.”
“And your beast lets you get away with that?”
“Luan and I have an understanding.”
“Handy,” David said. Mist would never let him get away with remaining independent he was sure; for a time yes, but not forever. “And unusual I’d say.”
Spence nodded seriously. “Saves on all the pack bullshit.”
“Challenges you mean.”
“That and being expected to lead. I won’t be second fiddle to anyone, but I don’t want to tell people what to do either.”
“I know exactly how you feel,” he said, and he did, but Mist wouldn’t let him remain independent. If he had to have a pack, and he did, he preferred to lead it. As Ronnie had impressed upon him that time at Lost Souls, he either chose to lead or became one who was led. There was no in between.
“Your beast—”
“Mist.”
“Mist is dominant to you?”
“We’re partners in most things but in this he is. All shifters are supposed to be that way, or so everyone keeps telling me. You seem different.”
“Ever
yone says that,” Spence said dryly. “I wouldn’t know having nothing to compare my bond with. Luan and I get along fine as we are. Will we always? I have no idea, but I’m happy rubbing along like this for now.”
“Here we go,” David said, nodding toward the witch and the cop she was just about finished with. “Better get ready to duck.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
The witch lowered her hands and stepped away to rejoin her patron. The cop looked a little pale, but she was holding up. He had felt her fear of the binding. It impressed him that she’d gone through with it, but then again, Gavin really hadn’t given her much choice. She was doing okay though, for someone out of her comfort zone. She was certainly doing better than he’d done his first few days among monsters. The mental adjustment of dealing with non-humans took a little time, but she was fine.
“Satisfied?” Chris said, glaring for effect. David could tell she didn’t really feel angry. She felt relieved it was over more than anything right now. “I want to know what you’re doing about O’Neal’s maker.”
“And so you shall,” Gavin said. “But not until I’m brought up to date. I can hardly tell you what I don’t know myself, now can I?”
Chris scowled.
Gavin turned to Stephen. “Where were we?”
“I was about to tell you that we know who turned O’Neal and where he is.”
“Convenient. How do you know where this person is? Surely it makes more sense for his resting place to be a closely held secret?”
Stephen hesitated, but Rachelle blurted the answer, “It was Michael!”
“What was?” Gavin said turning to her.
“O’Neal’s maker. It’s Michael!”
“Impossible,” Gavin snapped. “He would not. Your witch made a mistake, botched the ritual somehow.”
“It’s not a mistake,” Stephen said. “It has to be why he hasn’t come to any of our meetings or responded to our messages.”
“I do not believe it. He can make a companion or two if he wishes, but why let this one run amok? It makes no sense for it to be him. None. He is already well situated here with us. Why risk everything this way? It’s not him.”
“It is,” Stephen said unhappily.
“It definitely is,” the witch added. “And just so you know for future reference, I don’t make mistakes where my craft is concerned. I wouldn’t live long if I did.”
Chris nodded at that, and David wondered how a cop new anything about necromancy. Maybe the police had courses about detecting such things? He really didn’t know.
“I witnessed the questioning,” Rachelle added. “It was Michael. What are you going to do about it?”
“Not I,” Gavin said scowling. “We. We will visit and ask him straight out.”
“I’m willing,” Stephen said. “But in case you’re wrong, we must go prepared to fight.”
“Fine,” Gavin snapped. “Call your people. Have them meet us there. We go now. I will not waste another night on this foolishness. We need to discover who is really behind this, not waste time accusing allies of wrongdoing to no good purpose!”
“I’m going with you,” Chris said.
“Of course you must,” Gavin agreed. “Did I not promise? Make your calls.”
David withdrew his link from a pocket as Stephen and the others began making their own calls. He had Lawrence on speed dial, Darrin and Ronnie too. He called each one in turn and gave his instructions. Lawrence had been waiting for the call, knowing ahead of time they would likely be going after Michael tonight. There had been a discussion with Stephen and Danyelle about simply taking matters into their own hands before coming to Gavin. Stephen’s forces should be more than enough to deal with the problem, but he was hesitant to act unilaterally against another House when all four of them were allied. Bringing the problem to the others was safer, and it was certainly the more circumspect course politically.
“It’s a go,” David said when Lawrence picked up. “No changes.”
“Right,” Lawrence said grimly and disconnected.
He chose Darrin next. “It’s on.”
“See you there, bye.”
He chose to contact Ronnie last because he had a feeling she would be the one to try arguing. “We’re on our way to Michael’s place. I just wanted you to know.”
“Thanks. How did he take it?”
“Better than I thought he would. He doesn’t believe us, but he’s willing to ask him about it.”
“Don’t take any chances.”
“I’ll have most of the pack with me.”
“Accidents happen. Be careful.”
“I will. Bye.”
“Bye,” Ronnie said and disconnected first.
David frowned at his link. That went suspiciously well.
“What’s wrong?” Spence asked.
“Nothing. Have you ever been ready for an argument, and then when it doesn’t happen you feel kind of cheated?”
“Ha! A woman was it?”
“My future mate, but she’s still holding out.”
Spence grinned. “Congrats for the future then, but yes I’ve often been cheated out of a good argument. It usually means they’re up to something sneaky.”
That’s what he’d been thinking.
“Angelina?” Gavin said. “Your van?”
“It’s on the way. My boys are bringing my stuff.”
Gavin surveyed his guests. “Everyone is to remember that we are visiting an ally. Nothing has been proven against House Fabron. You will not attack without provocation. Am I clear?”
Everyone nodded.
“Good. We go.”
Michael Fabron had chosen to make his home not within the city as the other vampire Houses had done, but had instead chosen the prestige of the Hollywood Hills. He was unusual in that his territory was divided into two distinct zones. He controlled the mansion and grounds of his estate in the Holmby Hills as his well-guarded residence, while at the same time he administered the greater portion of his territory in the city through proxies and allies. That didn’t mean he had chosen a hermit-like existence, as Gavin seemed to prefer; far from it. His huge estate in the Holmby Hills was well known for its lavish parties. Michael revelled in providing extravagant hospitality for his guests to enjoy, and he made them welcome often. There were famous celebrities numbered among his friends, many of them human holovid stars of both large and small screen. A neat trick when non-humans were considered lesser and treated more like sub-human animals than people. Everything about Michael attracted. His manner of speaking, of dress, his sense of self and humour... all of it drew others to him like moths to flame. It was his own personal brand of glamour of course, and it wasn’t restricted only to humans. Many an unwary vampire had succumbed to his wiles, and left again a few short days later longing to stay. Neither sex was safe from his attentions, and no race could deny him; not human, not vampire, not shifter, or even elf. All loved him, and he loved all equally.
Only demons could truly be incubi, and despite AML propaganda to the contrary, vampires were not descended from that ancient race. Vampires were descended of humans, but Michael came as close to being an incubus as any could come without having demon blood running through their veins. A more flamboyant vampire in existence was hard to imagine.
Gavin’s doubts were completely understandable to David, who didn’t know Michael at all. He only knew him through Stephen’s explanations on the journey from Lost Souls to Gavin’s home. If the reality was only half close to Stephen’s stories about Michael, he found himself siding with Gavin. Why would such a hedonist risk everything to turn a serial killer loose on the city? If O’Neal had been an accident, why hadn’t he asked for help if he felt unable to deal with the problem? It really didn’t make a lot of sense.
He didn’t know anything about necromancy and didn’t want to, but Stephen and Rachelle did. They were putting a lot of faith in the necromance and the damning evidence she had revealed. The witch was sur
e that O’Neal was descended of Michael, meaning Michael’s blood had turned him—not even the final death was enough to sever the blood bond between a maker and his child completely. Her rituals and questioning in Rachelle’s presence—and the thought of such questioning of a decapitated corpse boggled David’s mind—had only strengthened her belief in Michael’s guilt.
He turned to look out of the limousine’s rear window. The cop was in her own car following them closely, and behind her bringing up the rear was Angel’s gang in their van. The girl had chosen to ride with her people, while the three vampires had elected to stay together in the comfort of the limo. Stephen had invited him and Spence to join them. David wouldn’t have minded keeping the cop company if she’d asked, but he could tell that she’d been relieved when the arrangements left her on her own. He had felt that very clearly, so he hadn’t offered to join her.
“I’m surprised you allowed the cop into this,” Spence said. “Why did you?”
“You heard her. I owed a debt,” Gavin said and smiled briefly at Spence’s snort of disbelief. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“You pay the debts you want to pay, and that’s not always to the creditor’s benefit. She seems to think that vamps are frozen in the past and that you somehow don’t experience all the years you’ve been alive or the changes that have occurred in the world. She probably thinks you don’t know how to drive and would jump on a horse as soon as look at it!”
“Probably. I do look back with fondness at some of what I’ve seen. I won’t deny that. Would I go back to when I first arrived upon this world if I could? On the whole, no I would not. Would I go home to Lochlain on my own world? Yes, upon the instant, but that cannot be. As to your question regarding the detective; I want her under my eye. It is better she see what we want her to see and only that, than have her sneaking around in the shadows. Better she be controlled than force me to take permanent steps to prevent her interfering.”
Permanent steps, right, it meant Gavin preferred not to kill her. David had to agree there. This was his world now, and making these kinds of decisions was something he would have to get used to himself. He was learning a lot by watching how the vampires handled things. Stephen was less direct than Gavin in the main, preferring alliances and compromises over precipitant action; that was strength not a weakness as far as David was concerned, and he liked that about the vampire. Stephen never took action without carefully thinking his options through, but that didn’t make him indecisive; far from it. Once decided upon his course, he doggedly pursued it with ruthless efficiency.
Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1 Page 37
