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

  He frowned at the bodies but then shrugged. He could carry one back to the house, but not the other two. He decided there was no point. He could send someone back to collect them if necessary, but it was just as likely Jonas would tidy them up. He grimaced at the thought. He was becoming too blasé about this sort of thing. Mist had fought and killed them, not he. An easy and false way to exonerate himself of any guilt. It was false, because Mist was inseparable from him. They were pack, they were brothers, they were one, and he wouldn’t change that now even if he could. He didn’t want to be uncaring, and he certainly didn’t want to become someone who killed easily on a whim, but Stephen was right. Ronnie too. He had to live this new life, not keep looking back trying to live his old one. It was gone.

  He walked away, and didn’t look back.

  The night was quiet now that the fighting had ended. That was good. The estate was remote, but they couldn’t be sure that someone hadn’t noticed and reported a disturbance to the police. Stephen and the others could handle one or two police officers should they show up, but they wouldn’t want to do that. If SMT (Special Measures Teams) turned up with their riot gear and hexes loaded for monster, then things could go bad fast. Stephen would want them all out of here as soon as possible, and the estate cleaned of all the evidence that anything had ever happened here.

  He was all for that idea.

  The house looked the same. All the windows were still blazing with light, but the grounds close by seemed crowded. He picked out faces he knew, glad to find them unhurt. Most were naked having just changed back to their human forms. He found Lawrence directing things. He had the pack collecting bodies and weapons. That was good thinking; it would speed things for Jonas.

  “Where’s Ronnie?”

  Lawrence looked up and relief flashed upon his face. “Good to see you safe. She’s inside with Stephen. They’re fine.”

  David relaxed a little more. “Okay. Have you called Jonas?”

  “Stephen did.”

  He nodded. “Did we lose anyone?”

  “Nope. We’re all fine.”

  “Injuries?”

  “Nothing that changing back didn’t fix. Stop worrying, David, this sort of thing is normal for us. Well not normal exactly, but not that unusual. Just another fight, a bit bigger maybe, and a bit more intense, but nothing to get bent out of shape about. We’re fine.”

  It had seemed more like outright war to him, not just another fight, but then he had never had to fight physically for anything before his encounter with Georgie and Ronnie. This chaos should never be normal. He was determined to give his people a life where this sort of thing was unnecessary.

  “Keep doing what you’re doing. I left three more for you back that way.” He pointed back the way he’d come. “Send someone to collect them up will you?”

  Lawrence nodded.

  “I’m off to find Stephen and find out what he plans to do next.”

  He hurried into the house.

  He found Stephen and the others questioning the survivors. He sought out Ronnie the moment he entered the room, and found her safe as Lawrence had said. Feeling easier at the sight of her magnificent nakedness and her obviously uninjured state, he approached Stephen to ask what was happening. The cop was standing with him. She looked him over as he approached and muttered something about naked beefcake infesting the place, or some such thing. He ignored her.

  Stephen was speaking, “...and you are certain that Michael was not taken?”

  The human woman spoke dreamily, obviously under the vampire’s influence. “Michael isn’t here.”

  “I did not ask that, my dear lady. You will answer only what I ask you. You want to answer. Answering me makes you feel wonderful, but not answering makes you feel guilty. It feels bad not to answer or lie to me. You don’t want to feel bad, do you?”

  “No.”

  Stephen kept his tone calm, and spoke almost in a singsong voice. “Very good. You are doing wonderfully well. Answer truthfully and feel good. Now, think hard. When was the last time you saw Michael?”

  David was impressed. He could feel Stephen’s increasing frustration and rage, but his voice gave nothing of that away. By voice alone, anyone would think he was simply enquiring about the weather, not the fate of an ally and friend he had known for centuries.

  “A week?” the woman said frowning. “What day is it?”

  “It is Wednesday, my dear.”

  “It was last Friday. He went into the city.”

  “Oh, yes? Do you know why?”

  She nodded, but didn’t explain.

  The cop snickered. Stephen glared at her, and she made that silly zipping gesture across her lips. That was just too much, and even David laughed. He also received Stephen’s ire, but the vampire turned his attention back to business moments later.

  “So you know why. Please tell me.”

  “Stephen sent a message asking him to a meeting, but aren’t you Stephen?”

  “I am indeed. I sent no message. You mustn’t lie to me. Where did Michael go?” The woman swayed as he brought the full weight of his power down upon her. “Answer!” he snapped, finally losing it.

  She groaned and her eyes rolled in her head.

  “Easy there,” the cop said. “Take it easy.”

  “You’ll injure her,” David added. “To no purpose. Back it down a little. Let her up, Stephen!”

  Stephen glared, but he did ease his grip, and the woman’s distress seemed to lessen. “There, there. You are calm, you feel at ease. Michael went to visit Stephen in the city you say?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know this?”

  She smiled dreamily. “He told me.”

  “Did he indeed?” his eyes sharpened at that. “You and he are close?”

  “Oh yes! He feeds from me often.”

  The cop muttered darkly.

  David had expected something of the sort. Food was one of the reasons Michael hosted so many guests on his estate. Stephen did it too by feeding almost exclusively from the pack, though he kept things interesting by taking advantage of the club’s clientele for variety. As he often said, food came to him. He did not need to hunt. David supposed that if his diet consisted of a single thing, he would prize variety too.

  Stephen’s feeding from the pack was something David had not been easy with at the beginning of their association, but he had come to see it as a good thing since then. It made House Edmonton and its vampires strong, and it was safer for them if their food was provided in house so to speak. There were numerous stories of vampires lured to their deaths through an unwise choice of feeding partner. AML especially liked using the tactic, probably because it was so successful at enticing vamps into dangerous situations. He had no intention of allowing any of his vamps to feed from strangers and risk themselves.

  He smiled ruefully. He was becoming as possessive of the Edmonton vamps as Stephen could be with the Blood Drinker wolves! The pack was loyal to Stephen and saw feeding him and his vamps as a kind of repayment for the protection he had provided them in their time of need. It had been a way for them to strengthen their patron and make everyone safer at the same time. Nothing had changed now they were officially part of an allied pack rather than individual wolves working for him. They had never seen feeding vamps as distasteful. Apparently, it was quite pleasurable for both parties. He wouldn’t know anything about that, having no experience of it, but thrill seekers did and they were rabid fans of being bitten. That was not a good recommendation to try it in his opinion. Thrill seekers reminded him of desperate junkies looking for a fix. Maybe it affected humans differently because he hadn’t seen any ill effects in his wolves.

  “And that was the last time you saw him? Did Michael often spend his days in the city?” Stephen was saying.

  “Oh no, never!”

  “Never?”

  “No. He was always very proper and careful about returning before sunrise.”

  “But you said the last time you
saw him was last Friday. Did you not see him return?”

  “No.”

  “No, just no? You did not see him return, or he did not return?”

  “I did not see him.”

  “Ask her if he returned,” the cop said. “Not if she saw him.”

  Stephen frowned at the interruption, but he did ask. “Did Michael return before sunrise that day?”

  “No.”

  “Well that’s not good,” David muttered.

  “Understatement much?” the cop said. “What about O’Neal? Ask her if she knows anything about him.”

  Stephen hissed. “Do you have any more orders for me? Let’s hear them, by all means.”

  “No need to be snippy,” the cop said. “We’re all here for the same thing.”

  “Why don’t I believe that?” Stephen turned back to his questioning. “Do you know a man by the name of O’Neal?”

  “Oh him,” the woman sneered. “Michael’s newest conquest.”

  Stephen’s eyebrows climbed abruptly. “Do tell us more, won’t you?”

  “Michael could have had anyone he wanted. He could have turned me! I’ve loved him longer and far better than John ever could or would. It’s not fair! I begged him to turn me, but he gave his gift to that raggedy man instead. Why? Why?!”

  “Hush now,” Stephen said. “Be calm. Michael bestowed the gift upon O’Neal you said. Why did he not keep the man close if he was such a favourite of his?”

  “He did at first. Michael loved him. They went everywhere together.”

  “But?”

  “Something happened. I don’t know what but Michael was very upset. John was suddenly nowhere around and I thought maybe he had died. Michael was so angry.”

  “When was this?”

  “Weeks and weeks ago.”

  The cop muttered something. “I bet that was when O’Neal started his killing spree. The timing is right. Michael lost control of him somehow.”

  Stephen snorted. “Not possible, not even remotely possible. You have no idea of what you speak. No newborn could hope to resist Michael. The very idea is laughable.”

  “You see me laughing? There’s nothing funny about nine dead women! Do you think it’s a coincidence that Michael and O’Neal have a falling out right around the time the killings started? That O’Neal suddenly dropped out of sight leaving Michael pissed off and angry about something? I’m betting O’Neal got away and killed Sheryl Adams. She was the first woman to die.”

  “You do not understand. Michael is... was O’Neal’s maker. There is a bond. O’Neal should not have been able to hide from Michael. More than that, he should not have been able to resist a summons from him. No newborn should be able to do that. I made Danyelle more than a century ago, and even she cannot! If my maker were alive today and he wished it, I would have to go to him no matter where in the city he was. The bond makes it so!”

  “Yeah? Well something went wrong when O’Neal was turned. He was already a nut bunny before Michael got him. Maybe that screwed it up or something. How the hell should I know? Whatever happened, happened. It doesn’t matter now. All that does, is Michael’s location.”

  David nodded.

  Stephen frowned at the truth of her words. He glanced at the dreamy woman and then toward Gavin and Rachelle on the other side of the room. They were busy questioning the other survivors. Jonas would be arriving any time now, and they needed to adjust everyone’s memories before they could let them go about their business. All of it had to be done before sunrise, and they still didn’t know where Michael had gone or why.

  “Where,” the cop said darkly. “The fuck… Is… Michael?”

  Part III

  31

  Taken

  His driver held the rear door of the limo open, and Stephen climbed out. “Wait here.”

  “Yes, Stephen,” Terry said very respectfully.

  Terry had been exceptionally careful and well behaved since the incident with Marie at the club. He had settled down remarkably well, and Stephen found himself grudgingly pleased with his newest child. He hadn’t expected that. He had turned Terry not because he needed or wanted another mouth to feed, but because he’d given his word to the man. He hadn’t expected to find him useful, but he did.

  He headed for the house and dismissed thoughts of Terry from his mind. He was looking forward to seeing Marie again. She had visited with him a few times now at the club, but this was the first time she had invited him to her home. He would have preferred it to be just the two of them, but this visit was business not pleasure. At her urging, Marie’s father had finally agreed to a meeting to discuss Techtron’s current aims in the city, but he was determined to enjoy some part of the evening with her despite that.

  The door opened as he approached and Marie stepped out of the house to greet him. He smiled and reached to take her offered hands in both of his.

  “Thank you for coming,” Marie said blushing in a charming manner.

  Seeing it made Stephen feel lighter of spirit. He truly did enjoy her. “Thank you for inviting me.”

  “Come inside. Dad is looking forward to meeting you.”

  He released her hands, and Marie led the way into her home. Stephen followed noting the unhappy faces of a pair of security guards hovering just inside. He nodded to them, acknowledging their watchfulness. One ignored him, the other nodded back. Both were tense, hands ready to reach for the suspicious looking bulges under their unbuttoned jackets. They wouldn’t have occasion to use their weapons against him, but if they tried, he could easily disarm them. He did not fear them and took no insult from their guardedness. There were many dangers in the world and Marie deserved protection.

  “That will be all, Andrew, thank you,” Marie said.

  Stephen smiled as the guard struggled to find a reason not to leave her with him.

  “Yes, Miss,” Andrew finally said, though he was obviously far from sanguine. He waved his colleague away and busied himself closing the door, and if he did so a little slowly to extend the time to remain nearby, what of it?

  Marie smiled at Stephen and took him deeper into the house. “Dad is in his office. He usually is.”

  “How sad.”

  “Sad?”

  “That he has you and such a lovely home but does not emerge from his office more to enjoy you both.”

  Marie laughed. “You are such a tease.”

  “I’m glad that I can make you laugh, but I’m quite serious. Many things are said of my kind, most are unpleasant, but we do have an appreciation for beauty and the finer things. You might say that being dead gives us a unique perspective on life.”

  Marie stopped and turned to face him. She was suddenly quite close and confrontational. “Don’t do that! You’re not dead. I don’t like hearing you say that you are!”

  “Hush, it’s all right. I’m used to it.”

  “It’s not. You’re parroting AML’s line. You can’t beat them by joining them, Stephen. That might work in some things, but not in this. Prejudice and bigotry should be fought, never tolerated. AML are the worse examples of humanity. Don’t emulate them, please.”

  “AML are only the most vocal. It’s refreshing that they’re willing to back word with deed. Strange to think, I know, but I prefer an enemy willing to fight me in the open to the snide comments and backroom deals that the government relies upon. Politics,” he sneered. “And politicians invariably disgust me. Backstabbing two-timing liars most of them. They smile to your face while quietly slipping poison in your wine or a dagger in your back.”

  “At least politicians don’t go around setting bombs and killing the innocent.”

  “Do they not? Not with their own hands perhaps, but that’s what the military is for. Let us not argue over the rights and wrongs of wars undertaken on our supposed behalf. I’m here to see your father about a different kind of war, a more shadowy kind happening right here in LA.”

  Marie glared, frustration in her tense stance, but after a moment, she relaxed
her posture and sighed. “Sorry. I don’t mean to ruin your first visit it’s just that...” she sighed again. “You sound entirely too much like dad, especially when he thinks I’m being naive. I don’t like being condescended to.”

  “I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “But you do think that I’m naive? No, it’s all right; I can see that you do. To you we probably all seem like children—”

  She didn’t give him time to refute that.

  “—but I’m not. I’m a grown woman with a good brain in my head.”

  “Indeed you are,” he said and smiled appreciatively.

  She blushed. “Well, okay then.” Her eyes darted around and briefly caught his before she realised that she was doing something dangerous. They skittered away to settle upon his lips. He moistened them and she flushed harder. “Dad is waiting,” she said weakly, entranced by his mouth and the smile that widened seemingly of its own volition.

  He truly did enjoy her. Truly. “Then by all means, let us not keep him wondering where we are.”

  She nodded and led the way to a door.

  William Stirling was a rotund man in his sixties, his hair was thinning but still dark, and the beard he wore was speckled with silver. He looked up from his desk comp as they entered and stood to greet them. He smiled at Marie, his love for his daughter shining upon his face. Stephen liked him for it and his obvious suspicion when those pale blue eyes came to rest upon him.

  “This is Stephen, Dad,” Marie said and added, “Be nice.”

  “When haven’t I been nice to your guests?” William said and grinned when she rolled her eyes. “Well, all right, but this one isn’t a potential boyfriend. You can’t expect miracles.”

  “He didn’t like Terry,” Marie confided to Stephen.

  “I like him for that,” he replied and laughed when William beamed at him. He seemed to be a very jolly fellow; he was glad for Marie’s sake. “I’m pleased to meet you at last.”