by C. Gockel
“I said no. This is for me and the women O’Neal killed. The case is closed. I don’t agree it should have been, but getting it reopened against the Mayor’s wishes is impossible. The entire thing is surrounded by political bullshit now. Those women will only receive justice if you people do the right thing. I don’t know your opinion of justice, whether it’s a concept you recognise or believe in, but I do.”
Stephen hissed at the implied rebuke. “Justice is a fine thing. It’s a shame that in this country it’s never applied even-handedly. When have my people ever received justice?” He waved a hand toward the shifters. “Ask David if he believes in your justice when applied to his people. Ask anyone not lucky enough to be human!”
“There’s nothing I can do about that,” she said. “I have no control of policy. I don’t make the laws, I enforce them, but I do have control over what I do or don’t do. So do you. What’s it to be?”
Gavin frowned and glanced toward Stephen and Rachelle. Neither gave any indication of what they thought. “Stephen and Rachelle are visiting to discuss the one you seek. The newborn... O’Neal did you say?”
Chris nodded.
“O’Neal has been questioned and his maker revealed. I was about to learn the name when you interrupted. If I’m now to do your bidding and remove this nuisance from life, I must have assurances.”
Stephen didn’t like that. “Are you sure this is wise? We can’t have the police mixed into this. OSI are still sniffing about.”
Chris frowned, who or what was OSI? “I’m on sick leave,” she said touching the bandage wrapping her throat. “Think of me as a civilian observer.”
Gavin snorted. “I can smell the gun you are carrying.”
She shrugged. Vamps could do that? She hadn’t known something like that was even possible. Maybe he smelled the oil she used or something. Live and learn.
“Okay, a well-armed civilian observer then.”
“If I allow this, I need to know that whatever happens will remain between us.”
“You have my word.”
Gavin nodded, apparently satisfied with that, but this time Rachelle objected. “This is ridiculous! We can’t take her word on this! I won’t be bound by your foolish faith in this woman. You’ve only just met her, and she’s police!” She appealed to Stephen. “Make him see sense, or I’m leaving.”
“Rachelle is right,” Stephen said. “We can’t risk everything on her word.”
“My word is good,” she growled angrily.
“Is that so?” Stephen said focusing his attention upon her. “And I should believe you, why? A police officer who says she upholds the law, but is willing to contract vampires to kill for her? That sounds more like revenge to me than justice. What about this scenario should encourage me to trust you? Am I to base my trust upon speeches and your apparent belief in justice when we’ve barely met?”
She scowled, but she did—reluctantly—see his point. “What can I say that will reassure you?”
“Nothing,” Rachelle said. “Leave this for us to deal with. You have my word that O’Neal’s maker will be dealt with as he deserves.”
Stephen nodded.
“No! I want to know what the hell is going on in my city. I want to look this vamp in the eyes as you take him out, and not hear later how he mysteriously got away. You don’t trust me; I understand that, so don’t expect me to trust you. We do this together.”
“I’m walking,” Rachelle said and started to leave.
“Do not,” Gavin said, and Rachelle froze in surprise at his order. The necromance eyed Gavin warily from her patron’s side. “You do not have my leave to go.”
Rachelle looked shocked, and turned to appeal to Stephen, but he was no help. He looked as stunned as she did.
“We will explore this matter of trust and overcome the difficulties,” Gavin said, pretending not to notice his guest’s shock at his highhandedness. “We do not trust you, Detective, and you do not trust us, but I believe I have the solution, or rather, Rachelle does.”
“I do?” Rachelle said.
“Your companion does,” Gavin said and addressed himself to the necromance. “Don’t you?”
The necromance hesitated.
“You do know how to lay a binding? A geas I think it’s called now.”
“I know how,” the necromance agreed. “She doesn’t have to be willing, but it would be better if she were.”
“Like hell!” Chris said backing away and reaching for the weapon at the small of her back. “No one is using magic on me, especially not a black witch.”
“If that gun comes out of your pants,” Gavin said in a bored voice. “I will take it amiss and you won’t live to regret it. I do this to accommodate you. You wanted to be involved, insisted upon it in fact. This is the only way you’ll be allowed to join us. Choose.”
She lowered her empty hand. “What exactly would I be agreeing to?”
“Simply give your word not to betray us and allow the witch to bind you with a geas preventing it.”
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.”
“Everyone 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 n
ow. 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.”
