by C. Gockel
“What did you promise Terry to seduce me into coming here?”
“Seduction was hardly necessary. It had no part in this. It was a happy coincidence that Terry was already seeing you.”
“Is that what he told you—that we were seeing each other?”
Stephen frowned in annoyance. “Ah, he lied then. I shall discuss that with him when next we meet.”
“He lied,” she agreed. “This was supposed to be our first date. I met him not long ago at a friend’s party. He seemed nice.”
“Nice?” Stephen said, his eyebrows climbing in surprise. “I don’t think being nice is one of his qualities. It did surprise me when he said he knew you. I doubted him at the time. He hardly seems the type to move in the same circles as you.”
“I don’t have circles, not really.”
“Surely your father being who he is?”
“I love my father very much. He’s all the family I have, but his friends are not my friends. I have no interest in whether Mayor Richards is re-elected or not, and I certainly have no interest in the price of magically processed computer chips.”
“Then what are your interests, if I might ask?”
She shrugged.
“There must be something?”
She laughed a little in embarrassment. “My college major was biology. My father wouldn’t approve, but I used to think medicine might be something I could do.”
“But something changed your mind?”
She nodded as the familiar hurt surged up and closed her throat. Martin and she had both considered it, but when he disappeared, she had let the idea slide. It didn’t seem so important anymore.
“My friend and I talked about it, but then something happened and nothing came of it. If you don’t mind, I don’t like to talk about it.”
“Forgive me,” Stephen said with a slight inclination of his head.
She felt her eyes burning with the need to cry.
Stephen laid a hand carefully atop hers. “Forgive me,” he whispered.
She nodded and let the tears come. Stephen produced a handkerchief from somewhere and she dabbed at her eyes. She tried to laugh, but it came out like a hitch in her breath.
“This is so silly of me.”
“Pain is rarely silly. Your friend is dead?”
“No! I mean, I don’t know. I hope he’s well, but he just disappeared one night. Please, I don’t want to talk about this,” she said and tried to think of something else to talk about, but all she could see was Martin’s face. “I’m sorry, but I would like to leave now.”
Stephen stood as she rose. “I will have Terry drive you.”
Her lips twisted into a sneer at the thought. “I’ll take a cab. I don’t want him near me.”
“I understand, but there’s no need for that. I’ll have Charles drive you.”
Her eyes widened at the thought of Charles alone with her. “I would rather—”
“Have no fear. Charles will be the perfect gentleman, I promise.”
She found herself nodding. A short time later, she was reclining in the back of a white limousine with Charles at the wheel.
9
A Promise Kept
Stephen watched the limousine turn into traffic from the steps of the club, and remained there thinking long after the night had swallowed it. Marie intrigued him, and that was something to be treasured after so long a life. Few things had the power to surprise him any longer, but she had managed to do it.
“Will she help?” Danyelle asked approaching out of the darkness.
Stephen nodded. “I believe she will.” He turned back to enter the club and Danyelle paced him. “But we need something more.”
“Dare we lean upon such a weak support?”
“You question me? Ah, you are jealous of her,” Stephen said, strangely cheered by the thought. “You fear her.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll still be beside you long after she is dust. She has nothing to offer you.”
“You’re wrong, she has herself to offer.”
Danyelle was silent as they passed through a door marked ‘Staff Only’ and up the stairs beyond. They entered an office to find Edward Tansey, the day manager, busy at his desk. He made a polite excuse when they entered and put away his link.
Edward rose to his feet and offered his seat to Stephen. “Terry Sayles has asked for a meeting. He sounded upset.”
“He shall have his meeting, and his reward,” Stephen said and waved away the offer of a seat. He stood before a large window that substituted for the office’s back wall and watched the show on stage below. Cassy had finished her set, and Jerry, a cigar-smoking comic, had come on. “Have Terry brought to me.”
Danyelle nodded and left the room.
“Has there been any word from Leon or Raymond?”
Leon Pullen and Raymond Pederson were the Alphas of two large shifter packs. Pederson was wolf, and Leon coyote. Leon’s pack was the larger but it had traditionally stayed neutral in past disputes. Stephen had honoured that neutrality, not needing more enemies, and so had allied with Pederson, but recent events had strained the alliance to breaking point.
“Nothing yet,” Edward said and joined him at the glass. “You know what shifters are like. They’re fully invested in the game of status. I doubt we’ll hear for a few days.”
“A few days we might not have. I need them Edward—badly. Mister Sayles aside, I cannot create more vampires. I dare not be seen as an empire builder as Alexander was in Chicago, but that does not remove my need for them. We are not strong enough should the worst happen and we be attacked by AML here. I need the shifters as allies, and I need them in numbers.”
“We could offer Ronnie to Raymond. That might tip the balance back in our favour. Her being here is part of the reason for the rift.”
Stephen frowned at the suggestion. It was a sensible notion, but it angered him. He was a man of his word still, and she was his now. His wolf to protect. If only he could replace Raymond with a more honourable man. David was strong enough, but he was too new and didn’t yet know himself well enough to understand he couldn’t live as he used to. Strong but naive wouldn’t work. He needed strong and ruthless, but honourable too; honourable enough to stick to agreements. Raymond Pederson had proven that he did not value their alliance when he withdrew his support over something as petty as a single wolf leaving his pack.
“Ronnie is mine now. I protect what’s mine and I honour my agreements. All know this about me. My reputation is important.”
“Not more important than your life.”
“Hmmm.” Stephen frowned. “What I have built here could all be swept away so easily. Pederson is a lost cause I fear. It will have to be Leon.”
“I will try to expedite.”
“Good.”
“There are other packs,” Edward said tentatively. “Perhaps Jonas?”
Stephen shook his head. “His coyotes are a force to be reckoned with, but they’re our community’s enforcers. They’re not my personal army to throw at AML. They cannot take my side. If they did, they would have to do the same for any other group who asked them. They must remain neutral in all disputes. Turning them into mercenaries would be more dangerous in the long term.”
Edward nodded; he had heard all the arguments before.
There were other groups of shifters in the city, but most were hardly packs at all. They were small groups who called themselves this pack or that pack, but in reality were just loosely affiliated family groups. They had no standing in the wider community, and that meant they had little or no threat to back anyone as allies. They were usually ignored unless they were foolish enough to get in a larger group or pack’s way.
He considered his options again but they were few. There was only one possible way to bring Jonas and his coyotes into a fight between him and AML—call for a vote to declare open war. If such a thing were to pass, Jonas’ pack would certainly fight alongside every other member of the community. Every shifter pack,
every vampire House, perhaps even the small family sized shifter groups could fight in such a war. A fine idea in theory, but it would never happen. The government would eradicate every non-human in the city if such a war started. They could never overlook such widespread and open violence. Alexander’s shadow war with OSI would be as nothing compared to the one with AML he envisioned. Not that he would get the votes for it if he tried. No, he would never be so foolish as to declare open war. Any attack had to be defeated, while keeping the authorities ignorant.
“How did your meeting go with Miss Stirling?”
Stephen smiled at Edward’s reflection in the glass. “I felt you watching,” he said and smiled again at Edward’s discomfit. “I think it went quite well. She will ask her father about Techtron’s interests here in Los Angeles.”
“That might help.”
“Knowledge of one’s opponent is always good to have.”
He watched Jerry’s act and noted the unenthusiastic response it received. This pleased him in a way. Jerry’s act had never inspired him to laughter—few things did, but Edward had hired the man and thought him very good. The audience’s reaction however, verified his decision to let Jerry go.
“Well?”
Edward sighed. “You were right, again.”
“Thank you,” he said dryly. “Send him on his way tonight.”
Lost Souls was not typical of modern clubs, not even of modern monster clubs. Its decor, its acts, the food and wine, and even the service provided by his highly trained staff were all intended to recreate better days—days when gentlemen dressed for dinner and ladies would wear long evening gowns that trailed seductively to drive men to distraction.
“It’s almost perfect,” he said remembering the days that Lost Souls tried to emulate. “I do not want to lose this.”
“You won’t. I won’t let it happen.”
He was hardly comforted. “I will if AML and Techtron have their way.”
Edward said nothing. There wasn’t anything to say. Shifters had few rights and vampires almost none. A vampire, like all undead creatures, was not alive in the accepted sense. Therefore, they could not own property, or vote, or launch a lawsuit. They had no legal standing and couldn’t defend themselves from those who did, not within the law at least. Outside of it was another matter. He could, and often did, defend himself very well outside the law, but doing so had caused complications in the past. Removing a rival was one thing, trying to remove a human controlled corporation like Techtron was another matter entirely.
Lost Souls was his, but his name did not appear on the deeds. His name did not appear on any legal document. A corpse could not own anything, he thought bitterly. He controlled all his holdings through front men like Edward. Edward took his orders from him, and everyone else took theirs from Edward. It was a good arrangement. He had used the same system of human servants countless times, but still the necessity galled him.
He felt rather than heard Danyelle approaching. If he reached out, he could have called her to him from almost anywhere in the city. “I will need your office for a few minutes.”
“Stephen?”
“Mister Sayles is coming to receive his reward.”
Edward paled. “Are you sure, really sure you want him?”
Stephen laughed mirthlessly. “I do not want him at all, but I keep my word. Perhaps not the way he expects, but I do keep it once given.”
“I know, but surely this once—”
“Compromise leads to the Devil, Edward. An old Christo saying, but still relevant I think.”
Just then, Danyelle glided into the office followed by a nervously sweating Terry. Edward took his leave and closed the door on his way out. Terry looked around nervously before bringing his eyes back to Stephen.
“I did it. You wanted her here, and I got her here. You owe me.”
He frowned. The man’s gall was beyond annoying. It would be so easy to snap his puny neck and make his remains disappear forever, but he truly did value his word. If a dead man could be said to have honour, he wanted it said of him.
“You lied to me, Terry.”
“I didn’t lie. I told you that I knew her. I told you that I would give her to you.”
“She is not yours to give. I asked how you knew Marie, and you told me that you were dating her. I do not tolerate lies. If I ask something of you, I expect the truth.” He watched Terry nervously shuffling his feet. “Still, I did promise.”
“Yeah, that’s right. You did promise.”
Stephen glanced at Danyelle. “You look famished. You may have him.”
Danyelle moved in an eye blink.
“No!” Terry shrieked as Danyelle struck.
Stephen watched Danyelle feed while Terry kicked and struggled. His pain and fear were particularly sweet, and Danyelle appreciated it. Fear flavoured the blood; fear imbued it with power that was life to her and all their kind. He could have used his power to make Terry sleep, he could have used it to make Terry enjoy his death and so could Danyelle, but this was both his punishment and his reward; punishment for his lies, and reward for the favour of bringing Marie to the club to meet him.
Terry’s struggles were weakening. Danyelle had fed deeply upon him and his death was moments away. His pulse would be weakening, while his heart would be thundering as it tried to pump an ever-diminishing supply of blood to the brain. He would feel as if he were floating in warm water. Perhaps he could already feel himself rising as his heart stuttered and missed a beat.
“Enough Danyelle,” Stephen said as he felt Terry’s heart falter. “I said enough!” he roared and lashed her with his power.
Danyelle snarled at the pain he inflicted. She hissed and spat at him as her need overrode her discipline. He drove her back hissing and snarling. Her power, strengthened by her feeding, pushed at him trying to lash out, but he was her master now and always. Nothing could change that.
Terry lay discarded on the floor. The terrible wound at his neck still pumped blood. He was very close to the edge now. “Please…” he whispered.
Stephen knelt beside the scared man and looked into his pain-filled eyes. He ignored Danyelle who was slowly coming back to herself where he held her pinned to the wall with his power. “Now you see, don’t you, Terry? Now you see what I am and what you hope to become. I give you a choice, one that I was never offered. You can stay, or you can go on to your eternal reward. Choose.”
“I… don’t… want… to… die…” Terry hissed as he struggled to talk despite his ruined throat.
“Dying is part of the process, but I understand. So be it,” he said and slashed open a vein in his wrist. The discomfort was a momentary thing. “Drink of my blood and be reborn.”
Terry suckled on his wrist desperately hoping for life. Slowly his body lost way to the grievous wound in his neck and he lost consciousness. A few minutes later, Terry Sayles breathed his last breath.
“May I come down now?”
Stephen stood to regard Danyelle where he held her off the floor and against the wall. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better thank you. Did you have to hit me so hard?”
“Yes,” he said simply and released her to drop lightly back to her feet. He kicked Terry’s corpse lightly. “Clear this mess up before Edward comes back. You know how bloodstains upset him, and this was a new carpet.”
“I’ll get right on it,” Danyelle said with a happy smile. “Right after I wash my face.”
Stephen nodded.
The limousine pulled carefully up to the gates and Charles pressed the intercom. Marie didn’t hear what was said, but whatever it was must have been the right thing. The gates swung open and Charles drove inside.
Andrew was waiting outside the door when they pulled up. With him were two of her father’s security team. None of them looked particularly intimidating, but something about them must have warned Charles because he did not get out and open the door for her.
The partition lowered and he turned t
o her. “Please climb out Miss Stirling. I think your father’s bodyguard might kill me if they do not see you unharmed.”
The way he spoke made her shiver. He didn’t sound outraged about his possible death, he sounded resigned to it as if he faced similar or worse things every day. She climbed out and waved to Andrew. He didn’t respond. The two men with him spread out a little more, and with a chill, she realised why. She was in their line of fire.
Charles’ door opened a crack and he would have climbed out into who knew what, but Marie grabbed the door to prevent it opening fully. Charles looked at her and stopped. He could have forced it open, hell, he could probably have flipped the car over if he wanted to.
“No need to see me inside, Charles. Andrew is here.”
Charles glanced over her shoulder. “Stephen was very specific.”
“Stay in the car. You can watch me go in without getting shot, okay?”
Charles nodded and closed the door. The engine purred to life, but he was taking his orders seriously. He wouldn’t leave until she was safely inside.
Marie walked toward Andrew aware as she did so of Charles at her back. She walked without hurry and tried to stay in his way. She had no reason to think that he would hurt Charles without her father’s orders, but she was feeling edgy. So much had happened to her tonight that she felt anything was possible. Who knew what could happen on a night such as this?
“Miss Stirling, please go inside.”
“You first,” she said with a smile. “And send your friends in.”
Andrew looked startled. “Where is Mister Sayles? We heard that there was a fight. Is he in the car, does he require medical attention?”
“You heard it wrong, Andrew. Terry is a bastard and I don’t care if he needs a doctor, though I doubt he does. It was only a nosebleed. Let’s go inside and I’ll tell you what happened.”
Andrew hesitated, but then he nodded to his men to go in. They obeyed. “After you Miss Stirling.”
