Urban Mythic: Thirteen Novels of Adventure and Romance, featuring Norse and Greek Gods, Demons and Djinn, Angels, Fairies, Vampires, and Werewolves in the Modern World

by C. Gockel

  She watched a couple talking together and thought they looked perfectly human. She would have sworn they were if asked, but then the man noticed her watching him. He scowled and his friend noticed. She turned to see what had drawn his attention.

  She gasped. The woman’s eyes were golden, and so beautiful! They shone with an inner light, and looked so exotic, especially combined with her mixed Asian skin tone and subtly almond shaped eyes.

  Terry chuckled. “She doesn’t like you, sweetheart.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  “Why not? I thought you liked it.”

  “I put up with it, I never liked it,” she said angrily. “What is she?”

  Terry looked the woman over. “A shifter probably. They like to shock people, you know? Shifters can make grandstanding an art form.”

  “I didn’t know they could change just their eye colour like that.”

  “The strong ones can. I saw a guy grow a tail once—he was stoned at the time... and that’s another thing—did you know that shifters have to use a ton of the stuff for it to affect them? Can you imagine a shifter with a habit?”

  “No,” she said. The thought was too horrible.

  “Of course not. They couldn’t afford it!” Terry laughed, but Marie didn’t. He was becoming less funny as time went by.

  Terry checked his coat with a woman behind a counter and pocketed the ticket stub she gave him. Marie shook her head at the woman’s enquiring look and kept her shawl, though she didn’t really need it. Holding it in place gave her something to do with her hands.

  “He reserved the best seats in the place for us,” Terry said in satisfaction and waving the invites as if fanning himself.

  “Who did?”

  “A friend of mine.”

  “Is he our host?”

  “You might say so. It’s his club.”

  Marie followed him toward the inner doors and through them. A strikingly handsome man in a white tuxedo met them on the other side. Terry said his name was Charles and that he was the floor manager. He had marvellously blue eyes that held her gaze and trapped it there. She felt much of her tension leave and a smile appeared on her face. He made her feel so comfortable that she had to wonder why she had been so uneasy before.

  Terry spoilt the mood when he embarrassed them both by waving their invitations under Charles’ nose. Charles stepped back a pace and lost eye contact with her. Marie suddenly felt chilled. Goose bumps dotted her arms and she shivered. What in the nine hells was that? Why had she been standing there with a silly grin on her face?

  Charles looked a little disgruntled for a moment, but he was a professional. He took the cards from Terry. He obviously knew who they were and did not really need them, but he showed them to their table without fuss. He was a professional.

  “Enjoy your evening.”

  Terry waved Charles away, but Charles wasn’t speaking to him. He had again caught her eyes with his. His words seemed to reverberate in her brain until all she could think about was having a good time.

  “Enjoy... evening,” she mumbled and blinked awake. “Thank you, I’m sure I shall.”

  Charles inclined his head politely and left smiling.

  “Seems like a nice man,” she said watching him going back to his place near the doors.

  Terry snorted. “You don’t know anything do you?” Before she could even think of becoming angry at his tone, he went on. “Charles isn’t a man, well not anymore. He’s one of the monsters. You know, a vamp?”

  “A vampire?” she hissed under her breath. “You led me in here and didn’t warn me? You bastard!”

  “Calm down. You knew what you would see in here, and if you didn’t, you should have.”

  She scowled at him. She had known, but the club was so nice that she had begun to forget her fears. They were back now in full measure. Her eyes swept the room trying to see just what she had fallen into.

  There was music and singing, quiet conversation between patrons, and men and women enjoying their meals—there seemed nothing to fear. A live band was performing to one side of the stage. They were playing a love song better suited to a nineteen thirties music hall than to a club for non-humans. A very tall woman was singing her heart out. She was wearing a backless evening gown cut low in the front that would have been almost indecent in any other setting. It was soft silver in colour—like platinum, and very simple in its lines. Marie doubted she was wearing anything under it, but the woman made it seem more than ample. Her voice was pure gold. She could have been wearing a sack and no one would have cared so long as she didn’t stop singing.

  The table to the right had two couples sitting and laughing together. She paled when she noticed the men both had golden eyes. Their companions looked human, but they surely weren’t. No one, man or woman, could possibly be so complacent as to actually date a shifter. Lycanthropy was hideously contagious.

  She looked behind her and found Charles with another couple at the door. He was smiling and staring very intently at the woman. Less than a minute went by and the woman started as if just then realising that she’d been daydreaming. The woman rubbed her arms as if she had a chill, just as she had earlier. Charles indicated that they should follow him and led the way to their table. The woman was still dazed. Her companion put an arm around her shoulders and steered her toward their table.

  Terry noticed Marie’s distraction. “It’s his job.”

  “What?”

  “Charles. Calming the guests is his job.”

  “Why didn’t he work his magic on you then?”

  Terry shrugged. “I’ve been here before. I didn’t need it. It’s not really magic you know. Clouding minds is part of a vamp’s nature. It’s a kind of a defence mechanism, like those fish that puff up when bigger fish come by. Vamps use it to calm their prey so they can feed in safety.”

  She shivered. He’d said prey as if he didn’t care that a vampire’s prey had always been human. Vampires were cannibals when you really analysed them. They denied it of course. They insisted that drinking human blood was not the same as eating human flesh.

  Yeah right.

  “How come you know so much?”

  “I’ve been around. Some of the stuff I’ve seen would turn your hair grey,” he said smugly pleased with himself.

  “Terry,” a warm voice said chidingly. “You are frightening my guest.”

  And that is a bad thing.

  Marie almost said the words aloud. They seemed appropriate to the mood somehow. She turned to see the most exquisitely handsome man she had ever seen approaching her table. Heads turned throughout the club, and conversations trailed off in mid-word as men and women craned their necks to stare. She didn’t blame them.

  He wore his jet-black hair long and loose, it flowed onto his shoulders like a waterfall made of night. His skin was pale and smooth like marble. No one was that perfect, it had to be a trick. She pulled her eyes away from his and focused on his hand where it reached for hers. It was just a hand, but she didn’t want to touch him for fear of what she would discover.

  One moment he was gliding to her table, the next he was holding her hand. She gasped at this evidence of his otherness. “Who are you?” How many vampires were wandering loose in the club?

  Terry was standing and she hadn’t seen him rise. “Marie Stirling, this is Stephen Edmonton. He’s the owner of Lost Souls and our host this evening.”

  Get out, get out, get out.... RUN!

  She stared, paralysed with fear. A better description might be fascinated. She was like a deer frozen in the headlights of an oncoming car. Her mind was shrieking, but her body was completely still as if trying to be as small and unnoticed as possible. It knew a predator when it saw one. This beautiful man, this thing, was undeniably a predator.

  “Delighted to meet you at last,” Stephen said and lightly brushed her hand with a kiss. “You will not fear me; there is nothing to fear while I am near.”

  “Nothing... fear...” she shiv
ered and smiled up at him, but then she caught sight of Terry’s face.

  The excitement there was unmistakable and faintly disturbing. His eyes were fevered and a light sheen of sweat gleamed upon his face. She didn’t know what it meant, but he looked as if he’d done something clever and was waiting for his reward like a good dog. She pulled to free her hand, and Stephen allowed it to slip out of his grasp. She had no doubt that had he not allowed it, she would have needed a crowbar to escape. A big one!

  She licked her lips. “What are we really doing here?”

  Stephen beckoned to a waiter and another chair was brought. He sat as he did everything else—gracefully. “Terry has simply performed a service for me. A favour if you will.”

  “A favour? What favour?” She tried to catch Terry’s eyes, but he avoided looking at her. He made to sit, but hesitated when Stephen glanced at him.

  “No,” Stephen said simply.

  Terry looked confused. “You promised.”

  “Leave,” Stephen said without even looking at him. When Terry did not move, he turned and glared. “Now.”

  Terry stumbled back as if pushed. He reached a shaking hand to his face and brought his fingers away bright with blood. His nose was bleeding, but there had been no blow.

  “You promised.”

  “You shall receive your reward. Have I not given my word?” Stephen said and dismissed Terry by turning his attention back to Marie.

  Terry retreated. “Thank you, Stephen.”

  “Don’t leave me with him!” she pleaded, but Terry ignored her and continued backing away.

  “Hush. No harm shall befall you,” Stephen promised.

  She believed him, which scared her worse than anything else. Was he using his magic on her? “What did you promise him, and what are you going to do with me?”

  “Terry is a minor servant of mine. He has been useful to me in the past, but I think that is coming to an end. A pity.”

  He smiled but she noticed how he kept his lips tight. The thought of what he was made her faintly queasy. She ought to be screaming the place down, but she felt calm—she was curious more than anything. That fact would probably scare her later. Why wasn’t she screaming? She found herself leaning forward trying to see his fangs.

  Stephen noticed and allowed her to see.

  “They’re so tiny,” she said in wonder. “I mean, I’m sure they’re more than adequate—” she broke off in confused embarrassment.

  Stephen’s startled laughter rang through the club, and suddenly everyone was beaming in pleasure—including Marie. It was wonderful that he was happy. He should be happy. She wished she could think of something else to make him laugh. Maybe she could—the babbling in her head suddenly cut off as if with a knife. It left her feeling almost dizzy.

  “Forgive my indiscretion.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  He gestured to his patrons who were conversing with their companions as if nothing had happened. “I sometimes leak power. It can lead to embarrassing situations.”

  “You leak?” she squeaked.

  Stephen grinned. “They felt my delight in you and reacted.” He tilted his head a little and his hair spilled from his shoulder to cover one eye. Marie’s hand twitched and reached toward him of its own will. She wanted to brush it away, but she snatched control of herself and forced it to be still.

  Stephen continued as if unaware of her confusion. “I asked Terry to make it possible for us to meet.”

  “Why?”

  “Would you believe I was curious?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so,” he said approvingly. “What do you know of your father’s business dealings?”

  “What has my father to do with this?”

  “Humour me.”

  “I know that he has interests in a lot of companies, mostly in electronics. Techtron is his though.”

  “Techtron is why you are here. Would you like to order food?”

  She blinked at the subject change. “I’m not hungry.”

  “Some wine perhaps? I have some very fine vintages here, very fine,” he said wistfully. “Let me choose one for you.”

  “Just the wine then.”

  Stephen gestured to one of the waiters, the same one who had brought his chair earlier, and spoke to him quietly. The waiter seemed surprised by something, but he nodded and left to fetch Stephen’s choice of wine.

  “You said Techtron is the reason you invited me here.”

  “That’s right. Have you heard of AML?”

  “Who hasn’t?”

  AML stood for the Anti Monster League. It was an organisation supposedly supported by concerned citizens that saw non-humans as a danger to humanity. Publicly, AML stood for peaceful protest with the aim of segregating all non-humans from human areas. Reservations were AML’s public answer to everything monster related. Privately, AML fanatics could be credited with any number of atrocities against non-humans.

  “AML is ready to launch its new campaign.”

  “And you think that Techtron is somehow involved? No, you wouldn’t need me for that... you think it’s my father!” she said in outrage.

  “Not your father, but someone highly placed in his organisation.” Stephen said appeasing her. “Ah, here is the wine.”

  The waiter placed a single glass on the table and then carefully, almost reverently opened the bottle. Marie watched all this in bemusement. She would like to ask what was so special about the wine and the occasion, but she did not want to display her ignorance. Stephen obviously took his wines seriously. She would not spoil it for him.

  “Should I pour, sir?”

  “No, thank you, Michael, I shall serve the lady. You can go.”

  The waiter placed the bottle reverently on the table and excused himself.

  Marie was sure she was missing something. Was it unusual for Stephen to sit with a guest, or was it something else? The waiter had left with a strange look on his face—almost amazed.

  “I remember wines of such variety and colour that today’s vintners would scarce believe me should I try to describe them. So much has been lost—”

  “A lot has been gained though surely?”

  Stephen shrugged. “Oh… yes, I suppose so. There are the occasional bright spots. A new variety of grape was grown not long ago. I am told that it produces a wine that almost surpasses the great wines lost so long ago.”

  “You haven’t tested it?”

  “I cannot,” Stephen said. “My condition prevents me.”

  “You can only drink—” she couldn’t say it.

  “Blood, yes. Water also, if taken in small amounts.”

  That was one way to finish conversation. The thought of Stephen sinking his fangs into someone in order to drink their blood was horrible. He was so beautiful that it was easy to forget the reality. Vampires were not called monsters for nothing. Best she remember it.

  “Whom do you suspect at Techtron?”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then how do you know that Techtron is involved?”

  “Techtron has suddenly taken an interest in riverfront property.”

  She waited but that was all. “Riverfront property. You mean property owned by monst... non-humans?”

  Stephen nodded. “Property owned by us is being bought for huge sums of money. A building worth half a million at most is selling for three and four times that amount, yet one owned by a human—right next door sometimes, is not being sought at all.”

  “AML don’t usually try to buy non-humans off.”

  “No. They would scare them off or kill them. This is something new, something clever.”

  “Clever? Why is it clever?”

  “Killing us might not be illegal, but it is frowned upon,” Stephen said a touch bitterly. “This way, AML gets what it wants without attracting unwanted attention.”

  “Killing a shifter is the same as killing a human,” she said and it was true. Shifters were people with an affliction, the
y were not truly monsters like vampires—she looked at Stephen and tried not to think along those lines. “It’s wrong.”

  “I’m glad you think so, but you must be aware that AML class all non-humans the same way. They don’t discriminate between types. They simply kill them.”

  That was unfortunately true in too many cases. She remembered reading in the news about an entire family being butchered. She remembered the awful pictures showing the dead children. The worst part was that they were innocent. Their father had contracted lycanthropy from a botched blood transfusion. It had happened well after they were born. The children were pure human, but AML hadn’t known or they hadn’t cared. The police never found the murderer.

  “I guess I could ask my father why Techtron wants to buy into the riverfront.”

  Stephen looked pleased. “I have tried to talk to him, but he won’t see me. He won’t accept my calls.”

  “That doesn’t sound like him.”

  “You would know that better than I,” Stephen said and carefully poured her a glass of wine. “Here, tell me what you think of this.”

  She tasted the wine. “This is wonderful!” she said and it was. She was not a connoisseur of wines, but even she could tell that this was something special. She took another taste and savoured it.

  Stephen lifted the bottle reverently, reading the label. “I saw this bottled. Well, it might have been another, but I certainly saw this batch created.”

  “Is it old?” she asked after emptying her glass. It truly was the best she had ever tasted.

  “It was bottled in seventeen ninety-one. This is the last of that year I have.”

  She gasped. “And you opened it for me. It must be worth a fortune!” No wonder the waiter had almost been in shock.

  “It has not been wasted. Wine is meant to be enjoyed, not left on a dusty rack as some kind of investment. I remember what it was like to eat and drink good food and wine. I wanted you to enjoy your visit.” He poured her another glass.

  “I have,” she said and surprisingly it was true.

  The unpleasantness with Terry had been relegated to the back of her mind and she did enjoy Stephen’s company. She knew what he was, and she still liked him. She knew how dangerous it was for a lone woman in the company of monsters and didn’t care. Besides, a woman alone was always in danger. It came with the job.