Stephen is here.
She stiffened, but then made herself relax. Now that she was more awake, Stephen’s scent was obvious.
“I guess I have you to thank for the bed and the pyjamas.”
A small movement to her right made her look that way. The shadows seemed to swirl about him, and his eyes had an inner light. Although Stephen’s eyes seemed Human and did not have slit pupils, the glow reminded her strongly of Flint. He was sitting in a chair with an open book balanced on his knee. His eyes seemed to grow brighter, and the shadows less deep, until his entire face was revealed. He studied her like a specimen under a microscope.
She frowned uneasily. “Why the mind tricks?”
Stephen chuckled. “Nothing fazes you, does it?” His eyes looked entirely normal and the shadows had fled.
“I wouldn’t say that. Being stabbed stings a bit.”
He smiled. “Flippancy, yes that would be your refuge. You are correct. You do have me to thank for the pyjamas. Do you like them?”
“You wear pyjamas?”
“Yes, and sleep in a bed, though not that one in case you were wondering.”
She had been, and felt her face heat at his knowing look.
“Coffins make for a good story, but they cannot compete with a feather bed for comfort. How are you feeling now?”
She felt pretty good for someone who had been stabbed a dozen times. When she checked under her pyjama top—she really hoped it had been Marie who had cleaned her up and dressed her—she found no trace of her wounds; not even a scar.
“How long have I been here?”
“About five hours give or take. Your kind heals almost as fast as mine, but silver does slow the process. We found you unconscious behind the club, and I ordered some of my people to follow your trail. They cleaned up the mess you left in the alley, and recovered your property. Your things are hanging in the wardrobe. You may keep the pyjamas. I have more.”
“Thanks. My computer?”
“I assure you it’s undamaged.” He pointed to the table in the corner. Her files were piled neatly next to the computer. Stephen followed her gaze and nodded. “Charles persuaded them to give it all back.”
“Them?”
“When he reached the alley where you were attacked, he found some young men squabbling over your things. He took care of the matter.”
She didn’t want to know what Stephen meant. All that mattered was that she was safe, and all her stuff had made it with her.
“I was on my way here to ask for your help.”
Stephen closed his book and put it aside. “I suspected as much. Edward told me of the statement you gave the reporters outside your home.”
“I thought it was time I made a start on what we agreed.”
He nodded. “I’m glad you did. Marie was very pleased. She said you made a good impression, and gained us at least a point across the board in the polls.”
“You track the polls that closely?”
“This is a very serious matter for me, Chris. Very serious. I know you’re aware of how the law regards my kind. Anyone can attempt to kill me, and yet be assured that no charges will be brought against them. After all, you cannot kill a dead man, can you? No matter what it takes, I will protect myself from AML and others, but gaining the protection of the law is still a worthy goal. You cannot know how irritating it is that I cannot vote, or own property in my own name, or instigate a lawsuit, or protect myself from one… there are hundreds of things I cannot avail myself of, that even the least deserving of the Republic’s citizens takes for granted.”
“I think I’m beginning to understand,” she said, remembering her forced retirement and her lack of employment.
“Yes, perhaps you are at that, but at least you still have some rights. As matters stand, I have none.”
According to the law, vampires were dead. The government, and those supposedly in the know, regarded them as corpses animated by magic. Corpses couldn’t own property of any kind, and they certainly didn’t have rights. That was the official line, and until recently only vampires had cared to contest it. Having met a few vamps over the years, she tended to think they had a point.
“I know, Stephen. I said I will help you, and I will, but I have something I have to do first. I came here because I need a place to stay where the Alley Dogs can’t get at me. I realise it’s an imposition…”
Stephen snorted. “Do you know why this place is built underground?”
“The sun?”
“No. It’s a fortress, built to keep me and mine safe from people like Pederson and his Alley dogs. I am always in danger, Chris, and not just from those you call monsters. Your coming here does not increase my peril one iota.”
She supposed that was true. “Well, thanks. I need your help with something else, if you’re willing.”
“What can I do?”
“I think Ed Davis can lead me to Ryder. I’m going to call him, and offer him a deal. I want you to honour it.”
Stephen pursed his lips. “What deal?”
“I don’t know yet what he will ask for.”
“Then you’re not thinking clearly.”
“How’s that?”
“Davis is a reporter. What else would he want but your story?”
She frowned. Ed Davis was slime, but he was also one thing more: a damn fine reporter. Stephen was right. He would want exclusive rights to her story, but she doubted even that would be enough for him. He would never give up a source like Ryder for a single story.
“You’re right, but to give up Ryder he’ll want more. What do you think of making Davis our pet reporter?”
Stephen looked intrigued by the idea. “Davis is the darling of the networks just now. I should think Marie would be delighted if you could find a way to recruit him for us.” He stood, and picked up his book. “I’ll back whatever you decide along those lines… within reason. I trust you not to beggar me.”
He crossed the room to the door.
“Stephen?”
He turned to look back. “Yes?”
“Thank you.”
Stephen inclined his head in a brief bow. “A pleasure,” he said and left.
As soon as the door closed, she jumped out of bed and stripped. She found her last pair of jeans in the wardrobe and pulled them on. A bright red sweater and a pair of socks were next. Her blood-spattered sneakers were last of all. She holstered her boomer and stashed two loaded magazines and fistfuls of loose ammunition into her pocket. Remembering the last time she had met Ryder, she wanted plenty with her. She grabbed another handful of shells, and jammed them into her other pocket. Her link was sitting on top of her files. It still had Ed’s number in its memory. She hoped he was at home.
This should be interesting.
“Oh do shut up,” she said crossly as she selected Ed’s number. “Pick up you son of a—”
“I said no calls!” Ed snarled over the line. “I have someone here!”
“Eddy, daaaarling. Have I got a story for you!”
“Chris?”
“That’s right. Are you interested?”
“In a story?” he asked warily. “What story?”
“Not over the link, Eddy. You know better than that. I want a face to face for this one. Just you and me. No one else. Deal?”
“No deal. I don’t come running when you whistle.”
She counted to five under her breath.
“All right, when and where?”
She grinned. “Lost Souls. It’s a nice place just off 104th street.”
“I know where it is. Why there?”
“A very good friend of mine owns it.”
Ed hissed in surprise. “Edmonton the vampire? He’s a friend of yours?”
She smiled, reeling Ed in was going to be easier than she had thought. “Would you like to meet him?”
“No point,” Ed said, sounding as if meeting Stephen was not important, but Chris wasn’t fooled. “He won’t talk to me, I’ve tried before.
He keeps himself to himself and won’t let any of us talk with his vamps.”
By us, he probably meant the newsies. Good on Stephen for denying those vultures access to his people. Good on him. Chris had more in common with Stephen than she had first suspected; they both loathed publicity and the media. She smiled crookedly. Friendships should always be based on strong foundations, and hating newsies seemed like a good one to her.
“He would welcome you if I asked him.”
“What are you up to?” Ed asked, suddenly becoming suspicious. “I know there’s something. You hate the sight of me, and now here you are inviting me to come see you. You’re up to something.”
She cursed under her breath. She had over-played her hand. She crossed her fingers and tried another tack. “I told you why I want you here. If you don’t want the story, I have someone at WKNC in mind that will jump at the chance to screw you over. You remember her, don’t you?”
“You wouldn’t do that to me, Chris,” Ed said in a choked voice. He didn’t sound like he believed what he was saying. “As I recall, you didn’t like her either.”
Ed used to work for WKNC, but Kelly Armstrong, a younger and some said more competent reporter, took his place. It probably didn’t help that his replacement was a woman. No matter how much he tried to act charming, those who really knew him knew him as a chauvinist. He was right that she didn’t like Kelly Armstrong, but then, she didn’t like anyone that got in her way when she was trying to catch a killer. Kelly, and Ed for that matter, had done that in the past.
“Things change. Do you want the story or not?”
“Give me an hour,” Ed said.
“I’ll give you thirty minutes, then I’m calling Kelly.”
She broke the connection before he could reply.
That was fun.
Chris laughed. It was.
* * *
17 ~ An Old Flame
When Chris stepped out of her bedroom, she found herself in a fully furnished living space equipped with all the modern conveniences. Her suite was just one of dozens of apartments and rooms built on three levels below Lost Souls. When Stephen had described the place as a fortress, she hadn’t dreamed he’d meant it was as big as one!
Stephen had lived for years on the lowest level, with the floors above him occupied by the club’s employees—shifters and vamps—all housed in comfort below ground to protect him. She did ask where he was living now, but he smiled and kept silence. She suspected he lived with Marie, who—she had learned—was Marie Stirling, the daughter of the late billion-dollar industrialist William P. Stirling. William Stirling’s death, and the story of Marie’s captivity and later death at the hands of a vampire, had made national headlines about eight years ago. She hadn’t connected Stephen’s Marie with Marie Stirling the murdered heiress. Perhaps that was another reason for the pair’s almost compulsive interest in the amendments. As Stephen had said earlier, the current state of the law did not allow vampires to own property. That meant Marie, being a vampire and legally dead, could not claim her inheritance.
“So, what did you do?” Chris asked, reaching for another sandwich.
She was always ready to eat these days. Luckily, Stephen knew that and had some of his people stock the refrigerator for her. She had already wolfed down a pile of chicken wings, and was just now starting a second plate of sandwiches between sips of strong coffee. Her rapid healing had taken a lot out of her, and she needed to build her strength back up.
Stephen and Marie were sitting together on the couch. Each held a glass of fresh blood from which they drank occasionally. Bloodsmell was strong in the room, and Smoke was hyper aware of it, but Chris was determined not to embarrass either them, or herself, by mentioning it.
Marie smiled at Stephen. “I had a friend to help me.” She took his free hand in hers, raised it to her lips, and kissed it. “I was very fortunate.”
Chris smiled, but it faded as she realised how much she envied their closeness. Would she ever experience that intimacy again? Thoughts of Mark were bittersweet. She couldn’t conceive of finding anyone like him again.
“I’ve had a lot of experience with this sort of thing,” Stephen said. “The trick is to find reliable and trustworthy people willing to front for you.”
Marie nodded. “You’ve met David, haven’t you, Chris?”
“David Lephmann?”
Marie nodded.
“He came to visit me at the hospital. Is that who you used?”
“He’s a friend. I knew him and Stephen only slightly before my… before my death. Stephen helped me arrange things so that David could take control of my shares, especially my shares in Techtron. My father left me everything he owned, but I couldn’t legally claim any of it. Stephen fixed it so that David inherited everything. In return, David saw to it that I didn’t lose my father’s home and that I have money when I need it. If I want something, he gets it for me.”
“It is not a perfect solution,” Stephen added, “but I have become resigned to living my life through others. For instance, Lost Souls is mine, but Edward’s name appears on all deeds and contracts. It is the way of things for us.”
“For now,” Marie said.
Stephen nodded. “For now. Perhaps the amendments will change things. We will see.”
Chris wondered what would happen to Techtron and NSPCL if the amendments went through. Would everything revert to Marie, or would Lephmann retain control? Lephmann was a canny businessman. She was sure he had set up contingency plans.
She finished eating, and was about to make herself a second coffee when Ed arrived. He and another man were escorted into the room by a pair of vampires—two of Stephen’s bodyguards. Both vamps wore dark business suits, and dark glasses to hide their eyes. They looked very intimidating, and were meant to. They wore their jackets unbuttoned, and she caught a brief glimpse of their weapon’s harness as they moved. They didn’t need weapons to protect Stephen, but she supposed even vampire bodyguards needed their props.
She stood to greet Ed, and show him to a seat. Stephen dismissed the guards. Ed nervously watched them leave, obviously relieved when the door closed behind them. That made her grin. Didn’t he realise he was in a room with two vampires and a shifter? His friend carrying the camera equipment certainly did.
She smiled and offered her hand to Ed’s friend. “Hi, I’m Chris.”
“Yeah I know,” the cameraman warily reached to shake her hand, and Chris snatched the camera away. “Hey!”
She turned away to check the camera was off. It wasn’t. She considered smashing it, but decided not to, and hit the power switch. The steady red glow of status indicators faded.
Ignoring the cameraman’s squawking, she turned to Ed. “I told you to come alone.”
Ed shrugged, and smiled disdainfully. “Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”
With his hands on his hips, the cameraman glared at Chris. “Tell her to give me my stuff back, man. Do you know how much that shit costs?”
Chris let a little of her anger leak into her eyes. “Sit down, and keep shut!”
He paled and stumbled back from her.
“Calm down, Chris. Your beast is showing,” Stephen said, smoothly retaking his seat next to Marie. “Mr. Davis and his friend are both welcome. The camera, however, is not.” He nodded at the cameraman. “Take a seat, please. Your equipment will be returned when our business is concluded.”
The cameraman chose a seat as far from them all as possible.
Chris took a deep breath, and forced her eyes to fade back to normal. Anger was something she needed to learn to control, and she had a long way to go. She took her seat, and put the camera on the floor next to her feet.
“I told you to come alone,” she said again.
“I go nowhere without a camera, Chris. You should have remembered that about me.”
“What happened to Laurel?”
Ed shrugged. “She bugged out a couple of years ago. Last I heard she was in New Y
ork.”
Laurel had been his assistant when Chris and Ed were dating. It had been her job to make him look good on camera, and they had been almost inseparable.
She wondered what Ed had done to make her leave him. “Let’s start again. Ed Davis, meet Stephen Edmonton and Marie Stirling. Stephen owns Lost Souls and is helping me out.”
Ed didn’t appear afraid, which was a neat trick considering Stephen’s reputation. He leaned forward and shook hands with both of the vampires, and then settled back in his seat.
“I know you both by reputation, of course. I would like a chance to interview you sometime.”
Stephen smiled briefly. “That might be arranged… if this meeting is successful.”
Ed obviously got the message. “What do you need?”
“I’ll let Chris explain.”
Ed turned to her. “So explain.”
“Before I do that, Eddy boy, I want to make it clear there will be no negotiation here. You give me what I want, and in exchange you get media access to the three of us, and exclusive rights to my story. Nothing more, nothing less.”
“Don’t call me Eddy. I don’t like it.”
“I don’t care what you like, Eddy. You’re here because I need information. You will tell me what I want to know, and in return, I’ll give you the story of the year.”
Ed snorted. “You’re taking a lot for granted. I’ll admit that I’m interested in your story. There isn’t a reporter in the city that wouldn’t jump at the chance to nail you down, Chris, but the story of the year? I don’t think so. Now, if you were talking about the amendments…” he broke off, and looked sharply at Stephen.
Stephen smiled and nodded. “Indeed. A big story, is it not?”
Ed swallowed as he realised how big a story he was being offered. “What do you need?”
“Ryder,” Chris said. “Give him to me.”
Ed paled. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Doug Ryder, the man responsible for the shifter slayings, the man that attacked me, and screwed up my life. I know you’re in contact with him, Eddy. Tell me where he is, and you get the story.”
“You think I know where this person is? I don’t know anyone named Ryder.”
Shifter Legacies Special Edition: Books 1-2 Page 75
