“No! That’s the good part. Because Ray is taking a whole month off, I managed to talk my manager into giving me an extra week, so I’ll have two weeks with you, and then one with my sister before we have to come back to San Francisco. That is, if you can stand us that long. Ray, hand me the basil, would you? No, the fresh stuff. Could you chop that onion for me? Sorry, Pia. We’re making spaghetti.”
“Sounds yummy. And stand you?” I laughed somewhat grimly. “I may never let you guys go home!”
“Oh, yes, we’ll just see how long that opinion remains once Kristoff shows up and apologizes for being such a butthead.” Her voice dropped suddenly. “Speaking of that . . . do you want me to tell Ray? About you being a Zorya and Kristoff and the you-know-whats and all the rest?”
I rubbed my forehead. Lately I seemed to always have a nagging, low-grade headache. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m not a Zorya anymore, and given this morning, I think I just need to face the fact that Kristoff isn’t ever going to-Crap. Someone’s at the door again.”
“Use the cannibal line this time. I guarantee you it’ll work.”
“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested,” I was saying even before I had the door all the way open. My excuse dried up at the sight of the man standing on the steps. “Gark.”
“What?” Magda asked. “What about a park?”
The man raised an eyebrow at me. “You are Pia Thomason?”
“Ack!” I said, and slammed the door shut in his face. “Oh, my God, Magda, it’s him!”
“Him? Him who?”
A shivery déjà vu sensation washed over me as I leaped over to the couch, shoving aside the curtain on the window just enough to peek out at the man. He knocked at the door again.
“Him the messenger. Good Lord, we’ve already done this!”
“We’ve done what?” Magda sounded confused.
“This, we’ve done this! This was the dream I had this morning.”
Muttered conversation was audible on the phone for a moment before Magda uncovered the mouthpiece and said, “Honey, would you go down to the basement and get me that bottle of olive oil? The Italian one. Pia’s having a crisis, and this may take a few minutes.”
I heard Ray say something as he moved off to do Magda’s bidding.
“I’m not having a crisis,” I hissed, peeking out at the man on my porch. “I’m just facing the messenger, that’s all. Just a vampire come to do God knows what to me.”
“Ray sends his love, by the way, and says he hopes your crisis isn’t a serious one,” she said in an aside before continuing. “How do you know the man is the messenger? Maybe he’s someone else. Maybe he’s another religious type. Or maybe he’s trying to sell Girl Scout cookies.”
I eyed the stranger again as he raised his hand to knock. “He’s around six feet tall and is wearing a very tailored black sports coat with matching pants, a scarlet shirt that looks like it’s made of raw silk, and shoes that probably cost more than my car.”
“That could be anyone,” Magda insisted, the sounds of chopping accompanying the words.
“And a fedora that’s angled to shade his face from the sun. I covered all this in the dream! Although that messenger turned out to be Andreas, and this guy is definitely not Kristoff’s brother.”
Silence followed for a moment. “OK, that description does sound like a you-know-what.”
“Vampire.”
“Yes. Ray, my cherub of delight, that is indeed a bottle of olive oil, but it’s Greek, not Italian, and I will not put Greek olive oil in spaghetti. Would you mind . . . Thanks, love. Mwah.” Magda was silent for a moment as faint sounds of footsteps fading away were audible even on the phone. “All right, he’s gone again. Pia, you’re going to have to let the vamp in.”
“I don’t want to,” I said stubbornly, turning my back on the window, glaring suspiciously at the bedroom. I knew full well that Kristoff wasn’t going to walk out of there, as he had in the dream, but I couldn’t stop myself from looking. “My life is going really well right now. Kind of. Somewhat. Oh, hell, it’s a nightmare, but that’s only going to be made worse by involvement with the Moravian Council, or whatever it is the vamps call themselves.”
“From what I remember of them, you’re not going to have a choice. They seemed kind of pushy.”
The knocking at my front door got even louder. Obviously the messenger was getting tired of waiting. “I don’t care. I have to get rid of this guy. What is it vamps don’t like? Garlic and holy water? I don’t have any of the latter, but I have garlic bread. You think that will work?”
“Pia, sweetie . . .” Magda’s voice took on a frustrated tinge as I marched out into the kitchen and dug through a bag until I found a loaf of garlic bread. “I really don’t think pretending none of this exists is the answer.”
The vamp on my doorstep stopped knocking and was outright pounding on my door now. “Wish me luck,” I said, setting down the phone in order to peel back the wrapper on the garlic bread. I wielded it like a club as I swung open the door.
Madga’s voice was faint but audible from the phone. “Pia? Pia? What are you . . . Oh, she is so silly sometimes. . . .”
“I have garlic and I’m not afraid to use it!” I shouted at the vampire, shaking the bread in his face.
He looked at it for a moment; then his gaze shifted to me, a look of stark incredulity on his face. “Bread?” he asked, his voice silky with some European accent.
“It has garlic on it,” I said, pulling open the loaf to show him the tiny bits of garlic smooshed into the butter. “So just stay back!”
He reached out and touched the garlic butter, licking the tip of his finger. “Very tasty.”
“You’re not . . . Garlic isn’t poisonous to you?” I asked, taken aback.
He closed his eyes for a moment, a martyred expression on his face. “No, that’s a fallacy created by mortals. I assume you are Pia Thomason? I am-”
“No, you don’t,” I said, desperately looking around as he started to enter my house. I snatched up the religious newsletter and shoved it at him.
He didn’t flinch, or shriek, or run madly away at the image of something religious. He just took it and gave me a long-suffering look. “ ‘The Watchtower’?”
I slumped against the door. “I should have known it wouldn’t work-Kristoff dragged me to a church to marry me, after all-but it was the only thing I had.”
He took the garlic bread from me, and set it and the newsletter down on the table next to the door. “Pia Thomason, I am here by a directive from the Moravian Council. As you are no doubt aware, you have been ordered to appear before the council to answer questions that have arisen since the events of June this year. For matters of your safety and comfort, I will escort you to Vienna, and am authorized to meet any reasonable financial needs the journey will impose upon you. The plane leaves in four hours. Am I correct in assuming that you are not yet packed for the journey?”
I picked up the cell phone, saying into it, “It’s the messenger, all right, and he’s immune to both garlic and religious things. He wants me to go to Vienna.”
“I heard. We can watch your house for you if you like-”
“That won’t be necessary. I’ll call you later.” I hung up the phone and faced the vampire. Like the other males of his species, he would have been at home on a fashion show runway. I wondered if it was some rule that all vampires had to be drop-dead sexy. “I told the council when they sent me the e-mail saying you were coming that I had no intention of letting them do any sort of third degree on me. Christian Dante is the head of the council, isn’t he?”
The vampire inclined his head in agreement. “He is executive director, yes.”
“He was there in Iceland when all the stuff happened. Well, he was there for most of it. I told him then everything I knew, so I have nothing further to say to any of the council.”
“You are a Midnight Zorya in the Brotherhood-”
“I am not,” I interr
upted, holding up my hand to stop him.
He looked pointedly at the moonstone charm hanging from my wrist.
“Not anymore,” I said, lowering my hand. “I gave up Zoryaing. If there were someone else I could give the stone to, I would, but there is no Brotherhood group here, for which I am profoundly grateful, if you want to know the truth. So you can just go back to your precious council and tell them that I said no.”
He was silent for a moment, his dark eyes assessing me in a manner that made me very uncomfortable. Mentally, I ran over any stake-shaped objects I might have in the house. “I should tell you that my orders to bring you before the council did not take into account your wishes.”
I lifted my chin, matching his intense gaze with one that I hoped did not show the fear that suddenly rolled around in my stomach. “Is that a threat?”
“No. It is merely a statement of fact. I am charged with bringing you before the council, and I will do so.”
His arrogant statement was fortunately just what I needed. The fear inside me changed to anger: anger that the vampires were so high-handed, anger that the man in front of me thought I was such a pushover, and anger that I was in this position to begin with. Where was Kristoff when I needed him to protect me from the ire of his brother vampires? Why wasn’t he here like he was supposed to be, suitably grateful that I got back his soul?
The anger grew hot, building and intensifying until it threatened to burst out of me.
“No!” I suddenly shouted, flinging my arms open wide. A brilliant, blinding blue-silver-white light burst forth from my hands, arcing above and below me, surrounding me in a sphere of brilliance.
The vampire yelped as the rays of the light touched him, flinging himself backward through the open door.
“I will not be used,” I shouted at him, the light growing in intensity. “Not by you, your council, or anyone! Do you understand? No one!”
The vampire started to say something, but I slammed shut the door, locking it before I crumpled to the floor, face resting against the cool wood as the light surrounding me slowly faded to nothing.
CHAPTER 2
“Last One Standing Shelter, this is Pia. No, I’m sorry, our shelter is closed until the end of the month. We’re having some remodeling work done to the buildings, and the animals have been moved to a temporary shelter so as not to be disturbed by the construction and such.” I tapped on the keyboard and pulled up the information on the caller. She was cleared for adoption, but hadn’t made up her mind yet on which dog she wanted. A couple entered the office and, after looking around for a moment, headed for my desk. I covered the mouthpiece of the phone. “I’ll be with you in just a sec.”
The woman smiled and nodded, and wandered over to look at the board with pictures of all the available senior pets for which the temporary shelter was currently serving as home. I gave the caller only half of my attention, watching the woman and wondering why she looked familiar.
“Yes, you can come by the dogs’ temporary housing, although we won’t be conducting any adoptions until the remodeling is finished. You’re welcome.” I hung up the phone and gave the man standing at the reception counter a bright, professional smile. “Can I help you?”
“Do you run this shelter?” he asked, looking around the office.
“No, I’m just the Internet guru and fund-raising administrator. I’m afraid our office is closed. I’m just about to leave myself, actually. We’re having some remodeling done, and-”
“You’re Pia,” the man interrupted.
“Yes,” I said slowly, looking at him a little closer. Something about him was ringing a bell in my head, too. “I’m sorry. I have a horrible memory for faces. Have we met?”
“Not formally, no.” He smiled. The woman came over and smiled at me, as well. I stood up slowly, suddenly wary. “We met, if you can call it that, a week ago. Outside the Safeway. Your cart bumped into my wife’s, and later seemed to be attracted to my shoe-”
“Oh, yes,” I said, goose bumps marching up my arm. I glanced at the stone swinging gently from the bracelet on my right wrist. It wasn’t giving me any sign that the couple was anything but what they seemed, and yet the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end. “How is it that you know my name?”
The man’s smile grew larger. “A new Zorya is always celebrated, no matter where she is located.”
“Oh, no,” I said, backing away slowly. “You’re reapers.”
He bowed. “We have the honor of belonging to the Brotherhood of the Blessed Light.”
“Then I did hear you right the other day at the store. And you . . .” I turned to the woman. “You said something lightish, too.”
She came forward, stopping in front of me to dip an awkward curtsy. “I’m Janice Mycowski. This is Rick, my husband, and I can’t tell you how thrilled we are to meet you.”
“So . . . what, you’re stalking me?” I asked in stark disbelief.
“Oh, no! We wouldn’t do that,” she said, distress visible in her muddy hazel eyes. She cast a worried glance at her husband. “We were just so excited that you were here, in our area-when word reached us that a new Zorya had been made, and that she was from Seattle, we were naturally excited. But then the governors said that you were a bit confused, and asked us to help clear some things up for you. You can imagine what a thrill and an honor it is for us to be asked to aid a Zorya.”
“Um . . . all right. I’d be thrilled and honored, too, but I’m not a Zorya anymore.” A bad feeling was growing in the pit of my stomach. “I hung up that hat almost two months ago. What . . . what exactly are you supposed to be helping me with?”
Janice clasped her hands together, beaming first at her husband, then at me. “The governors asked us to answer any questions you might have-Rick is very learned in Brotherhood history, and I’ve led more than two hundred welcome sessions, so between us, there probably isn’t a question that we can’t answer.”
“I’ve made it a policy to never turn down an offer of help, but I’m afraid I’m still a bit lost. You keep mentioning governors, but I don’t know exactly who you’re talking about.” The headache that always seemed to be hovering over me like a dark cloud intensified.
“The governing board,” Rick explained.
“Governing board?” I frowned and rubbed my forehead. “I thought the Zenith ruled the Brotherhood.”
“One normally does, but the last Zenith . . .” Janice sent another glance toward her husband.
He picked up where she left off. “The last Zenith was destroyed by the vampire scum she fought so valiantly against.”
“Whoa, now! First of all, vampires are not scum. I know several of them, and they’re perfectly nice people.”
The couple wore identical shocked expressions. “You . . . know them?” Rick finally asked.
“Yes.” I crossed my arms, daring them to say something. There was absolutely no love lost between the Brotherhood and the Dark Ones-quite the opposite, since pretty much a state of war existed between the two. But I was long past caring what the Brotherhood thought of my knowing vampires. In fact, I considered telling them I was Kristoff’s Beloved. That might just guarantee that I wouldn’t be involved with their group anymore.
Then again, it might also mean my demise. The Brotherhood held to a no-quarter policy when it came to vamps and their buddies.
Jan and Rick exchanged glances. “That’s . . . unusual,” Rick finally said. “I don’t know quite what to say to that.”
“Well, I have some other news that you might be interested in. Those vampires you are blaming for the death of the Zenith are innocent. She was shot and killed by one of your own.”
“No,” Janice said, shaking her head. “The director of the board of governors was there. I read his report on the horrible tragedy, and he stated quite clearly that he was there trying to protect the Zenith. She was killed by a vampire. It was his gun that shot her.”
I sucked my bottom lip for a moment as I moved behin
d the reception desk, keeping a distance between us. I didn’t exactly expect them to fling themselves upon me with knives, but stranger-and deadlier-things had happened during my time in Iceland, and if nothing else, my time there had taught me a certain amount of circumspection where members of the Brotherhood were concerned.
“I was there, too, you know,” I finally said.
Surprise lit their eyes.
I nodded, a little curious by that. I had a suspicion I knew who they were talking about, although I hadn’t known he was the director-Frederic Robert, a soft-spoken Frenchman who was no stranger either to power or the ability to use it. But he was in jail in Iceland, although obviously he’d had some sort of contact with the Brotherhood if he had been able to make a report. The question that tickled my mind was why he hadn’t told the reapers that I was present at the same time. “I saw exactly what happened, and I can assure you that Denise was not shot by a vampire. But that’s really a moot point, isn’t it? The fact is that she’s dead, and I’m no longer a Zorya, so although I’m flattered that you’re so keen to see me, I’m afraid that you’re bound to be disappointed. I do not intend to do any more Zoryaing.”
“Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way,” Rick said.
“I don’t care what the procedure is to de-Zorya oneself; whatever it takes, I’ll do it,” I said sharply. “I will be happy to hand over this stone to whoever wants to take the job, so long as someone takes it, and soon. In fact, there’s no time like the present.”
Janice backed away as I walked forward, taking off the bracelet in an attempt to hand it to her. She lifted her hands as if to hold me off. “Oh, no, I couldn’t take that! It’s the Midnight stone!”
Crouching Vampire, Hidden Fang do-7 Page 2
