by Carly Hansen
She needed to change the subject.
She nodded toward the curtain and whispered. “He can hear everything.”
Alda shook her head. “No, he can’t. This room is charmed. It’s soundproof.”
“He’s wrong,” Fenix said.
Alda looked at her with curious eyes. “About what?”
“It wasn’t werewolves who killed those girls. It was vampires.”
“How do you know that?”
Fenix hadn’t thought this far. All she’d wanted to do was to distract Alda by telling her about the vampires. But that only led right back to the subject of the strange abilities she wished she’d never had. There was no way of avoiding this.
The words came gushing out of Fenix’s mouth. “I can’t really explain it. I had a vision every time I touched the blood samples. I could see vampires feeding on those girls. Then they mauled them, using some weird kind of gloves with claws to make it look as if werewolves had attacked. And—”
“Micha says vampires in this region don’t feed.”
“Well, apparently, they’ve started again. Even right here in Tresmort.”
Alda raised her eyebrows.
“Remember those men Twain told you about that I tried to stop? The ones who kidnapped the girl?”
“What about them?”
Fenix shook her head. “They weren’t ordinary men. They were vampires.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive. I ran a stake through one of them, and he dissolved in smoke.”
Alda looked at the floor, as if in deep thought.
Fenix continued. “Micha said his lab equipment couldn’t pick up any traces of werewolf presence from the evidence we collected. But he’s insisting the wounds indicate that it was werewolves who attacked.”
Alda nodded slowly.
For Fenix, it was a relief to be able to tell this to someone. “From what he said, it sounds like he’ll take this accusation to the werewolf leadership.”
“Werewolves get very defensive if they think they’re being falsely blamed,” Alda said. “Especially in a case like this, where they don’t even set foot into this region, or are not supposed to. They won’t be too eager to have fingers pointed at them.”
“You think this could spark trouble?”
“How can it not? It’s not like Micha can pretend those girls’ deaths didn’t happen. And raising this with the Assembly of Werewolves would be striking a match and throwing it on gunpowder. I’ve dealt werewolves. They can be highly volatile.”
Although Alda had said the room had been soundproofed with a charm, Fenix threw a cautious glance at the beaded curtain. She couldn’t see Micha out there, but she knew he was waiting somewhere in the adjoining room.
She kept her voice low. “Do you think, maybe, that Micha set this whole thing up?”
Alda widened her eyes. “How so?”
“I don’t know. Maybe to drum up business. If his lab makes drugs to help those who fight to be stronger or to heal faster, then a war among supernaturals, or between supernaturals and humans, could be very good for him.”
Alda shook her head. “Micha may have been turned by a vampire to act on impulses to fight and destroy other supernaturals, but he’s not stupid.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s calculating and always careful. He came here with every intention of sending me to collect that evidence. He wouldn’t have risked my agreeing to go to Birstall if he knew those girls were killed by a vampire, not a werewolf.”
“Why not?”
“I would have been able to tell.”
Alda dipped her fingers down her neckline and pulled out a small, white pendant that looked like a flat pebble. Fenix had seen it hundreds of times before, because it sometimes fell out of Alda’s bosom when she leaned over.
“Prior to the creation of the Assembly of Werewolves,” Alda said, “there was one werewolf overlord for all of this continent. I did work for him for many years, and he gave me this as a gift.”
“What’s that?”
“A fragment of bone from one of the most powerful werewolf overlords of ancient times. It turns red if you stand in the spot where a werewolf has either drawn blood or shed blood.”
“So, if you’d gone to Birstall, it wouldn’t have changed color?”
“If the vision you had reflected what really happened, then, no, it wouldn’t have turned red.”
Alda was pensive for a while. “I told you Micha was calculating,” she said finally. “He came here talking about the space-bending wand, as if that was the only reason he wanted me to go. But I saw him eying my neckline when we spoke, and I suspect that my old client’s ancient pendant had a lot more to do with why he came to me.
“If I’d gone to Birstall and it had turned red, as he was sure it would have, then he could have taken that as evidence to the Assembly. They may have rejected lab results from his devices that said werewolves had been present. But they would have never doubted my pendant.”
Alda shrugged. “So, it would appear that Micha genuinely believes that werewolves took those girls’ lives.”
A feeling of happiness bubbled up inside Fenix. She fought a smile that threatened to break out on her face. She thought it strange how Alda’s final words had given her so much relief and delight.
But her mind raced to another thought. “If he truly believes that, then he’s being set up, Alda.”
The witch splayed her hands and hunched her shoulders. “So what?”
“Well, we’ve got to set him straight.”
“We don’t have to do any such thing.”
“But he’s walking into a trap. Somebody’s setting him up to be the cause of a war. We’ve got to stop it.”
“Since when did your duties include meddling in supernatural politics? You seem to have forgotten you’re just one of my helpers.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” Alda shouted.
The witch folded her arms and glared at Fenix. “Don’t you realize that if you mention anything about vampires feeding, you’ll have to explain about your visions? And who knows how Micha will react! Maybe he wouldn’t believe you, and then he’ll see you as an enemy. Or maybe he’ll believe you and realize you’re not the simple human you pass yourself off as.”
Alda paced in front of Fenix, wringing her hands. “I don’t know what you are, Fenix. My senses tell me you’re different. But I can’t place you in any race of supernaturals that I know of.”
Fenix’s heart raced.
Alda shook her head. “What if by mentioning your vision to Micha, you expose to him what you are? What if what you are is the one species that trips up his precious serum, and he falls back on instinct and starts hunting you?”
Alda stopped and let out a loud breath. “Then you’d have to go on the run. You’d have to leave here. I’ve already got a helper with one foot out the door. I’ll be damned if I allow myself to so easily lose a second one.”
The two locked eyes. Alda’s were bloodshot, and veins popped out at her temples. To Fenix, the witch’s intense stare felt like being hit with flaming darts.
She jumped off the table. “I can’t believe my ears,” Fenix said. “Here we have a chance to do something to prevent a war, and all you can think about is staffing issues?”
Alda came at Fenix, jabbing her claw-like finger into her face. “You say a word about this to Micha Angelo and so help me, I will throw you out on the street the very next minute. I’ll leave you to him, and to whatever fate may befall you.”
The tremble in Alda’s voice conveyed the terror she meant to stir up in Fenix.
Although Fenix had survived on the streets for years before Alda had taken her in, she had grown comfortable here. Sure, the work was dangerous. But she’d come to expect danger in her life. Alda’s pick-ups and deliveries kept her on her toes, kept her fighting skills fresh. And as crazy or pathetic as it sounded to Fenix’s own ears, the crotchety old witch and her ragtag cr
ew was the closest thing to family she thought she would ever have—although, she often felt she didn’t deserve even that, given how she’d come to lose her original family.
Was she prepared to give up all of that in a split second for the uncertainty that would follow if Micha Angelo found out about her yet-unexplained abilities?
Fenix guessed the witch knew her much better than she knew herself.
She realized she’d let her emotions run away with her when Alda had said she believed Micha was telling the truth about believing werewolves were responsible for the Birstall killings. When her heart had leapt with joy, she’d let all caution about his possible reaction to her powers fly out the window. For a brief moment, she’d had an irrational desire to be at his side, helping him to untangle this mess.
“Micha Angelo can fight his own battles,” Alda said as if reading Fenix’s mind. “He’s a big boy. He can handle himself.”
“But what about the girl?”
“What girl?”
“The one those vampires kidnapped. She has no way to defend herself.”
“That’s not our affair.”
“I can’t say that, Alda. Whatever power is working in me made me feel drawn to her. I sensed her danger long before I even saw those vampires chasing her.”
“So what?”
“I have to find her.”
“You are not going to get involved in vampire business.”
“But—”
Alda grabbed Fenix by the collar of her leather jacket and pulled her ear. The witch brought her wrinkled lips close to Fenix’s ear. “Listen to me and listen really good,” Alda said. “As long as you’re under this roof, you do as I say. Without question. Understood?”
Just as Fenix pulled away, the beaded curtain jangled.
Micha entered with impatience written all over his face. “Look, I just need to settle this payment business and—”
His entrance seemed to make little difference to Alda. “Get to your quarters, now,” she yelled as she shoved Fenix away. “And stay there until I tell you I need you.”
Fenix had lost count of how many times she’d heard those words over the years. Alda always uttered them with the intention of doling out punishment. But as her room was a refuge—providing things the street never did, such as a warm bed, a closet to hold her collection of leather jackets, and tons of books and magazines she’d secreted from Alda’s lair on the floor below—whenever Fenix heard that command, she would usually hide her grin as she slunk off to enjoy a couple of hours of undisturbed reading.
But with Micha standing there as a witness, those words stung like a slap in the face.
Fenix’s cheeks tingled, and she felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room.
She couldn’t bear to look at Micha.
After grabbing her flat cap, she donned it. She stared at her feet as she walked out, grinding her teeth and feeling nothing but hate for Alda.
Chapter 19
The rumpled sheets on her big, brass bed looked inviting. The thought of slipping between them only reminded Fenix of what a long, rough night she’d just been through. Though she should have laid down to rest, she couldn’t. The humiliation Alda had dished out to her in front of Micha left her too agitated.
Fenix stood by her window and looked out at the horizon. A faint hint of light seeped between the middle of the darkness of the sea and sky. Sunrise would come shortly.
By the time it came, Micha and the white SUV parked outside would be gone.
The thought made Fenix’s heart very heavy.
She sighed, not sure why was she feeling this way.
She knew of the possible danger he posed to her. She should have been glad to see the back of him, as she’d told him earlier. Yet, she couldn’t shake this sense of loss that the thought of his impending departure brought.
Suddenly, something down on the wharf caught her attention.
What had she seen? Was it some sort of movement?
Had she sensed something, or maybe imagined it?
She wasn’t sure of anything, other than that she was tired, agitated, angry, and wracked with feelings of sadness and confusion.
Seemingly out of nowhere, a figure ran to Micha’s SUV. The person looked around, then crept to the front bumper and crouched. The figure was quite distinctive. It was wrapped in a long, flowing garment.
The length and fit made Fenix think immediately of the man in the purple robe she’d seen with the vampires earlier.
Her hands and feet began to itch. The feeling of millions of needles stabbing into them almost made her cry out. She drew a deep breath and forced the sensation out of her mind.
The close call with that strange magic, however, convinced her that she had to go after whoever was out there. And that meant she had to act immediately and alone. There was no time to alert Alda and Micha. By the time she went to tell them and came back, the man in the long robe could be gone.
Keeping her eye on the crouched figure in front of Micha’s car, Fenix reached back and felt the bed. She yanked a sheet off. Her fingers made quick work of knotting the edge of the sheet to the brass bedhead.
The figure crawled to the edge of the bumper of Micha’s car and poked his head out, as if straining to see beyond the vehicle. Whatever he saw seemed to spook him because he ducked low and pulled back from the edge of the car. He looked around him, as if hesitating.
Fenix didn’t have a second to lose.
She flung the bedsheet out the window, then pushed her feet out and sat on the sill. With a quick twirl of her leg, she trapped the bedsheet between her thighs.
Grabbing the sheet tightly with her hand, she slid off the sill and made her way down.
The sheet reached only half the height of the warehouse, but it was enough to get her down safely. When she reached the edge of the fabric, she twisted her body and looked around to prepare for her landing.
The man in the robe didn’t seem to notice her dangling out the window.
He was back at the edge of Micha’s car, peeping around the corner.
Lights from an approaching vehicle shone through Micha’s windshield. An engine rumbled closer.
The man who was crouched in front of Micha’s car pushed himself up. He then took off, running down the wharf, his purple robe fluttering in the wind.
The front doors of the car that had just arrived flung open. Two men in suits ran down the wharf in the same direction as the man in the robe.
Fenix let go of the bedsheet. Her body went into freefall for a few seconds before she landed lightly on the balls of her feet. She stretched her hands out in front of her and sank down into a squat before springing up and taking off down the wharf after the men. She arrived at a dilapidated building just as the two wearing suits entered the broken door.
Who were they and why were they here?
Fenix figured the man in the purple robe was their scout. He must have been hiding from an unseen enemy while he waited for his besuited partners to arrive so he could lead the way to the warehouse.
But then the thought suddenly struck her that the two men in suits might be his enemies. Could he have been hiding from them?
Fenix had no answers.
All she was sure of was that she had to chase after them, and that it was going to be dangerous.
********
There was little doubt in Fenix’s mind that the men in suits would turn out to be vampires.
As she ran toward the old building, she pulled out her knife. In one smooth motion, she flicked her wrist. She envisioned a hawthorn stake.
She entered the dark, cavernous building with her fingers tightly wrapped around the stake.
An eerie silence hung in the air. The smell of rotting wood, rusted metal, and musty earth filled her nostrils.
Fenix heard her wild heartbeat reverberating in her ears. Her mouth went dry. Swallowing became difficult.
Stepping deeper into the building, she carefully brought her foot down so as no
t to make a sound. She turned her head left and right, but could hardly make out anything. She blinked and let her eyes adjust to the lower light.
A bank of windows extended along the wall closest to her. A massive structure, which looked like the remnants of a crane and a conveyor belt, ran all along the far wall.
Nothing lay in between.
Fenix knew she was totally exposed to the vampires with their superior night vision. It was an advantage she had to correct.
She’d never been inside this building before, but she’d often seen it from the outside as the gang had driven to and from Alda’s missions. The entire wall facing the sea was covered in graffiti. Over the decades, generations of vandals had left a thick layer of spray paint. It covered the glass panes of the windows, blocking out the light.
Fenix needed that light now.
The sun would have barely risen, but if she broke the windows, the glimmer of dawn would be enough to even her odds against the vampires.
More than that, it would tell her who she was dealing with.
If these vampires were under Micha’s control, then the serum would protect them from the sunlight.
If they were outsiders who had never taken the drug, their skin would burst into flames. She wouldn’t even need the stake.
Right now, a boomerang would serve her better than the short, pointed stick she clutched. Fenix flicked her wrist and called the curved wooden missile into being.
She stepped back and aimed for the windows. The boomerang broke through the pane with a loud crash and flew outside. On its re-entry, it knocked away a bigger piece of glass. Shards rained down, and the pings echoed as the splinters hit the ground.
Fenix bent forward and clutched the boomerang as it whizzed toward her.
With a flick of her wrist, she brought back the hawthorn stake. She whipped her hand behind her back and hid the weapon.
The faint sunlight that seeped in shone directly on the crane.
The man in purple was on top of the crane, with one foot on the conveyor belt. One of the vampires was below him and had climbed just a few feet off the ground. The other vampire was at the other end of the conveyor belt, scaling a ladder.
