You don’t think we’re too close to the building? I asked, a smidgen nervous. What if some of the Brotherhood people get their coffee here?
Andreas and Rowan would not have asked us to meet here if there were any danger. To be honest, I doubt if the director is allowing anyone entrance to the building.
I glanced over at it again. Although the building appeared perfectly normal, I had to admit there was an air of expectation, of subdued excitement in the air that I didn’t wholly ascribe to our little group.
“I wish I’d had time to get a gun. Everyone has guns in LA. Even the paperboys are armed,” Raymond muttered.
“Don’t pout, pookums. You got a Taser. That should work if someone tries to attack us.”
I looked in surprise at Raymond. “You bought a Taser?”
He nodded, flipping open his jacket to show the inner pocket. A small black unit protruded an inch above the pocket. “And it’s all juiced up, ready to go. It may not kill anyone, but it sure will stun the shit out of them.”
“Nice,” I said, doubtfully. “Er . . . we probably won’t need it. I think three vampires and the three of us ought to be enough to take on the whole office.”
“It can’t hurt,” Raymond pointed out.
“That’s right. Besides, Kristoff is armed, isn’t he?” Magda asked him.
“Kristoff has a knife,” I said, giving in to the blush that followed the memory of me assisting him in the donning of his ankle sheath. A few hours earlier I had finally convinced him it was my turn to give him some attention. A little self-satisfied smile crept over my lips as I remembered his statement afterward that I had not only knocked his socks off; I’d lit his feet on fire, too.
“So we wait.” Magda drummed her fingers on the table, watching absently as Ray double-checked his camera. “Wish I had something to read. I think I’ll go see if they have any newspapers inside. Come with me, boopsie?”
“Certainly,” Raymond said, magnanimously tucking away his electronic toy and following Magda as she reentered the café.
“That’s what I forgot to ask you,” I said, diving for my purse as Magda’s words prodded my memory. “You can translate this for me.”
Kristoff’s eyebrows rose as I pulled out Alec’s reaper notebook. Before I could offer it to him, he snatched it from my hands. “Where did you get that?”
I explained briefly how we’d found it. “But it’s OK; you don’t have to worry that Alec will be pissed because we swiped it-he knows I have it.”
His eyebrows rose even higher. “He does?”
“Yes. In fact, he told me I’d find it interesting reading, and suggested that I have you translate it for me.” I scooted my chair closer to him and opened the notebook up to the first page, pointing to the words I recognized. “It mentions you.”
He froze for a moment, his muscles tense and tight, as if he were going to pounce on it.
I glanced at him in surprise. “You don’t have to read it if you feel weird about reading your friend’s thoughts about you. At least, I assume that’s what he’s talking about in here. Did he meet you when you guys were both chasing reapers?”
“Yes,” he said, but it was an afterthought. He stared down at the journal with a wooden expression for a moment; then slowly that melted into abstracted horror.
“What’s it say?” I asked, peering over his arm at the text. “I don’t read Latin. Is it something gruesome?”
Emotions swamped me, thick and hot, a sudden explosion that told me he’d been trying to keep them under control, anger chasing fear, followed by a deep, dark fury that had his fingers clenching around the book.
“Kristoff? What’s the matter?” I asked, my skin crawling as the horrible emotions roiled around inside him. “Dear God, what does it say?”
“He was there,” he managed to say, his accent more pronounced.
“Who was where? Alec? Where was he?”
He slammed closed the journal, unmindful of its age and delicate state. I flinched as his knuckles turned white, trying to make sense of the emotions that burst from him like lava, burning and searing everything in their path as they spilled out. “He was there at the beginning. At my beginning.”
“At your birth? Is he an old friend of your family?” I asked, remembering that he had said Alec was something around eighty years older than Kristoff.
“No.” His jaw worked for a few seconds.
“Then what . . . ?”
His eyes met mine, and I had to keep myself from flinching, so deadly were they. They were pale as an iceberg against snow, and the depth of the fury in them stripped the breath from my lungs. “He was there at my rebirth.”
“Oh.” Enlightenment dawned. “He was there when the vampire had you turned into one, too? He must have known him, then.”
“He knew him.” Kristoff’s face twisted into an agonized sneer for a moment. “He knew him because he was him. Alec is the one who turned me, Pia. My old friend.”
The last word was spit out with a venom that left me staring in horror. “Alec? You can’t be serious-”
He leaped to his feet, snarling under his breath as he glared at the journal for a moment before shoving it at me. “Put that damned thing away.”
Hurriedly, I shoved it in my purse, following him as he stalked off, heedless of the sunlight and what it would do to him if it caught him full in the face. “Kristoff, wait a minute! What about Magda and Raymond? Boo!”
He didn’t stop; he just ran across the road, almost getting himself run down in the process. I waved an apology at the irate driver who was cursing him out as I dashed after him, confused, worried, and very, very angry at Alec.
That bastard had known what he was doing when he told me to have Kristoff translate the journal. He had to know what effect it would have. I made a few mental promises about introducing Alec to the wrath of a pissed-off Beloved as I followed Kristoff into a small, square building that sat behind the Brotherhood headquarters.
It was evidently some sort of a warehouse for paper products, huge pallets of plastic-wrapped bales of paper peppered around the nearly empty building. I trotted after Kristoff, whose long legs were making mincemeat of the distance, finally catching his hand. He didn’t brush me off, but neither did his fingers stroke mine as they normally did.
“Where is he?” Kristoff bellowed, his voice echoing in a grotesque parody of his normally velvety smooth tones.
Andreas and Rowan were squatting, peering down at a square hole in the floor, a grate lying between them. It was obviously some sort of a plumbing or electrical access point to the guts of the building. They both glanced up in surprise as the last of the echo died away.
“I told you that we’d let you know once we were sure the way in is safe,” Andreas said, getting to his feet. “Alec was just going to check that it was clear before we started.”
“Alec is doing nothing of the kind,” Kristoff said, his voice a snarl.
Rowan pursed his lips for a moment, glancing at the two brothers. “What’s happened?”
“Alec gave me his reaper journal to read. Kristoff says that it proves that Alec is the one who made him into a vampire,” I said quickly, tugging on Kristoff’s hand. Hello, remember me? I’m the woman who saved your soul. Stop thinking about decapitating Alec. Maybe there is a reason he did what he did.
There is a reason, he answered, and for a moment a bleak despair filled him. He quickly pushed me out of his mind.
Both men stared at me as if I had turned into a particularly unbelievable form of kumquat.
“Alec did?” Rowan said at last, shaking his head. “You must have read it wrong. Let me see the journal.”
I started to open my purse, but Kristoff grabbed my hand. “No,” he snapped. “I did not misread it. Alec was there. He was responsible.”
“Even if he was, there’s nothing you can do about it now,” I said with what I thought was a whole lot of reason. “Yes, it was nasty, and yes, you have the right to have some issues wi
th him about it, but it really has no bearing on things now, does it? What’s past is past. It’s not like it’s going to harm us in any way. Besides, we have bigger fish to fry.”
The two men looked at Kristoff, neither of them saying anything while he struggled with his emotions.
Boo, I know it hurts. I know you feel betrayed. But really, this is not the time to be pissed at him. We need a solid force if we’re going to tackle Frederic. Besides. I nudged his hand. Maybe this was his way of atoning for the whole thing.
Kristoff’s gaze, which had been focused on the black hole before us, swiveled to meet mine. His eyes were still far too light for my happiness. “He is not atoning, Beloved. He is attacking. And I will not allow him to win. Too much is at stake.”
He jumped down into the hole without another word.
“Well, so much for reason.” I crouched down at the edge of the hole, grateful I’d chosen jeans to wear for the day’s activities. I glanced up at the two men standing with identical surprised expressions on their faces. “Magda and Raymond are still at the café. Could one of you get them? It looks like Attack Plan Alpha is kicking into high gear a little early.”
I didn’t wait for their response, just swung my legs over the side and jumped, praying I wouldn’t break a leg in the process.
Luckily, the drop was only a few feet down, the subterranean area obviously used by maintenance personnel. Dim yellow lights hung from the walls, buzzing dully in the closed, sour-smelling area. Kristoff was doubled over in the confined space, about thirty yards ahead of me, heading in the direction of the Brotherhood building.
By the time he stopped and I caught up to him, sweat was beading on my forehead, and I had a painful stitch in my side.
“Kristoff, we need to talk.”
“No, we don’t. Do not try to stop me, Beloved. You have no idea what this means.”
“Like hell I don’t.” I gasped, following him up a row of metal rungs that were embedded into a cement wall. To my intense relief, the ladder led up through another hole in the floor. I hoisted myself up, almost blind in the darkness, but I could tell from the vague black outlines visible by a faint strip of light that we must be in some sort of a storeroom.
Kristoff grabbed me under the arms, pulling me to my feet.
“Are we in the Brotherhood building?” I asked in a whisper.
He nodded. “Stay here while I look for reapers.”
“Oh, no. Where goes my Dark One, so goes his Beloved,” I said, grabbing on to the back of his jacket. “That’s my new motto, anyway.”
A noise behind me heralded the arrival of Andreas. His silhouette moved against the bulky shadows as he climbed out of the hole. “Rowan went to get the others. What do you think Alec is doing?”
“Just what he said he’d do,” I said before Kristoff could answer. “He had no reason to do otherwise. The business in the journal is personal, and doesn’t have anything to do with the mole you’re trying to catch.”
Don’t be so certain of that, Kristoff thought at me.
I put his suspicions down to a normal response to the underhanded way Alec had revealed the truth, and pressed up against him when he opened the door a crack to look out.
“It’s clear. The meeting room should be in the back.”
“I just hope Alec knows what he’s doing,” I murmured, emerging from the room. “If we’re wrong and there is a Zenith, she’s going to view his being a decoy as the perfect opportunity to have a little vampire melting party.”
“He knew the danger when he volunteered to be the one caught,” Andreas said behind me.
The hallway was brightly lit, but devoid of Brotherhood folk. I glanced around, curious, as we passed a couple of closed doors, but despite my worst suspicions, no klaxons went off alerting people to our presence, and no one went screaming down the hallway yelling about vampires. There wasn’t even a security camera tucked away in the corner of the hall. The only noise to be heard was our nearly silent footsteps, and the almost sibilant whoosh of air.
“Don’t you think it’s a little odd that there aren’t more guards around?” I whispered, the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. “Or, rather, any guards?”
“If Alec has done his job, they will be swarming him,” Andreas answered.
“Yes, but they’d also want to know where he came from, and be searching for any of us. You said there were a ton of Brotherhood people here, right?” I asked Kristoff.
“No. I said they were preparing for a battle. The two things are not the same,” Kristoff said. “There are fewer reapers here than normal, but the ones who are here are higher in the organization. They are members of the governing board.”
“Brought out the big guns, did Frederic?” I murmured.
As we approached a double door at the end of the hallway, Kristoff paused for a moment, his head tipped as he listened intently. I put my hand on his back, as much for my own comfort as to remind him he was not alone anymore, when I noticed something curious.
“Uh, guys?” I held up my wrist. A crescent moon- shaped light glowed gently as it swung from my bracelet. “There are spirits here. Do you think it’s Ulfur?”
“He is a lich now, not a spirit. He wouldn’t register on your stone that way.”
“Oh. Good point. Well, regardless, there are some ghosties here somewhere.”
“Stay behind me,” Kristoff said, glancing over my shoulder at Andreas. The latter nodded at him as they exchanged some sort of macho guy look, the kind that said they had to protect the poor little feeble female in their care.
Silly vampires. I snorted to myself, flexing my fingers as I gathered a little light, preparing to halt the charge of reapers that was sure to follow when Kristoff flung open the doors to the conference room. They should know by now that this female was far from feeble.
Kristoff opened one of the doors a smidgen. Andreas and I crowded around him to peer in.
“ . . . tried and tried, but I just can’t understand them. Maybe one of you can, but for the life of me, I can’t see how I’m expected to do a job if these people can’t even be bothered to speak something understandable!”
The voice that reached our ears was female, whiny, and had a faint inflection that I mentally termed “mall rat.”
“Get her out of here,” a low male voice said. Its sheer lack of emotion sent a little skittering of fear down my back. That and a jolt of recognition, not to mention a number of memories I’d rather do without.
“Frederic’s in there,” I said in an almost inaudible whisper.
Kristoff nodded.
“You were told before that the director had no time for this,” a male voice said in a bossy, also familiar tone. “You must leave now.”
“Great. And Mattias.”
Kristoff’s back twitched.
“I don’t care what sort of war games you’re running-how am I going to get these two to T’ien?” the whiny woman demanded to know.
“You will leave now. You never should have been allowed in. The office is closed while the board deals with some unprecedented events. You must find your spirits’ destination by yourse-”
The door suddenly opened in front of us. For a moment, we stared in surprise at an equally surprised Mattias, behind whom was a petite woman holding a Chihuahua. Beyond her I could see two spirits, both male, both Chinese, dressed in identical tattered blue cloth jackets and pants. They looked like the poor immigrants forced to work on the railroad lines during one of California’s many growth spurts.
Mattias was the first to recover. “Wife!” he said, his blond brows pulling together in a frown. His gaze narrowed on Kristoff and Andreas. “You’ve come to flaunt more lovers in my face? I will not have it! You will not-”
I flung my handful of light past Kristoff and fully into Mattias’s face. He stood dazzled for a moment, the scowl fading into an expression of delight. “Pookie!”
“Oh, God,” Kristoff muttered.
Andreas snickered.
<
br /> “Hey! He’s helping me ,” the other Zorya said, stuffing her dog into an oversize violet bag. Light flashed in her hands as she sent it flying around Mattias’s head.
He turned to her, a slightly less delighted expression on his face. “Zorya Amber.”
She smirked at me for a moment before turning to him, pursing her lips, and making one of the most repulsive simpers I’d ever beheld. “Big ol’ sacristan wants to help Amber get rid of these annoying ghosts, doesn’t he?”
“Of course,” Mattias agreed.
“What is going on?” a different male voice called out from the depths of the conference room. The door was only half-open, so we couldn’t see in. “What is the holdup? We have things to do to prepare for the attack. Remove the Zorya at once.”
“Mattias?” I said, smiling as he turned back to me. I shoved a handful of light into his face.
“Pia, Pia, Pia!”
“Get rid of the chick,” I said, nodding toward Amber.
She gasped and started to summon light again when I grabbed her by the strap of her purse and hauled her out into the hallway.
“Stop that!” she shrieked, slapping at my hands. “You’ll stretch it! Do you have any idea how much I paid for this bag?”
“Dump her outside,” I told Mattias. “And don’t let her gather up light!”
He grinned and grabbed both of her hands, frog-marching her outside, her squawks of protest echoing down the empty hallway. The two ghosts followed her, neither of them looking very happy.
“I’m sorry,” I told them as they left. “I hope I didn’t screw anything up for you guys, but things are bound to get a bit hairy, and it really is better if you’re not in the middle of it.”
The door was jerked open just as I turned toward it.
“Ah. You have arrived at last,” Frederic said as Kristoff tried to shove me behind himself. I poked him in the shoulder and scooted to the side. Frederic’s eyes bugged out a bit at the sight of me. “Zorya Pia! You . . . er . . . are here as well?”
“As you see. Good morning, Frederic,” I said brightly, clutching Kristoff’s arm. I might not be a wimp, but I wasn’t stupid, either. “You can stop whatever horrible plans you’ve set into motion with the capture of Alec, because the cavalry has, in fact, arrived.”
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