In the Company of Vampires do-9

by Katie MacAlister

  “Oh, lovely. Magical zombies have stolen my valknut.” I wanted to laugh again, but had a nasty suspicion it would have a hysterical tinge to it.

  “It won’t be easy finding the lich,” she mused. “If they are raised by a master necromancer, they are almost indistinguishable from a mortal. Except for their eyes.”

  “What’s wrong with their eyes?” I had an image of bloody eye sockets and dangling optic nerves.

  “They are black.”

  “Big gaping black holes, you mean?”

  “Black as in the irises are the same color as the pupils. All liches have black eyes. Well, most do. I have heard there is an exception, but that doesn’t concern us.”

  “Oh? What’s the exception?”

  “Dragons.”

  I stared at her for the count of eight, then said, “Moving on.”

  “Yes, I think that’s best. Well. We shall have to find the lich, I believe, and he will tell us who sent him to steal the Vikingahärta.” She got to her feet and started changing her clothes into a black leather cat suit.

  “I suppose we could,” I said slowly, not convinced that the lich was the answer to the problem. “Although I can’t help but wonder about Mom. I never thought I’d say this, but if she’s just off on a romantic fling with a normal guy, then fine. But if Loki has seduced her somehow, is she safe?”

  “Why wouldn’t she be?” Imogen gave me an impatient frown. “You’re not thinking, Fran. It must be jet-lag. If Loki seduced your mother just so he could harm her, then he would have done so by now. Either he’s seduced her in order to use her as bait to draw you in, or she’s off with a mortal. Either way, she is most likely unhurt and in love, as Absinthe told you.”

  “I guess so. Back to the lich . . . we don’t know for certain that he took it. Forgive me, Imogen, but maybe Günter . . . ?”

  She shook her head. “I wouldn’t think it likely. If Günter wanted to steal the Vikingahärta, why send a lich?”

  She had me there. “Good point. Where do we start?”

  “Go change your clothes. Wear something tough. Leather is best, if you have it.”

  “Er . . . will jeans do?”

  “If that is all you have. Wear something you don’t mind getting dirty. I will meet you at my car in”—she consulted her watch—“half an hour.”

  Seeing no other option, I agreed, saluted her, and headed off for my mother’s trailer.

  I had just stepped into the darkened trailer when a big black shadow rushed me, smothering me in a cloying, sickening smell that sent me sliding into a dense abyss of nothingness.

  Chapter 9

  Sounds, thick and heavy, like they were wrapped up in thunder, rumbled in the distance, slowly, ever so slowly sharpening until I realized I was hearing two men talking.

  “—you told me not to hurt her doing it, so I used chloroform,” one man said.

  “Where the hell did you get chloroform?”

  I frowned to myself. I knew that voice. It resonated within me. Through the dense fog in my brain, an image rose.

  Ben! It was Ben.

  Francesca?

  The floor beneath me rocked. I cracked an eye open to see what was going on, and found myself held in Ben’s arms. “You got your cross back,” was the first thing I said, touching the Celtic cross he wore.

  He smiled, his eyes so beautiful, so warm and sexy I just wanted to lick them.

  That sounds uncomfortable, but I appreciate the sentiment. You’re still a bit drugged, aren’t you?

  “Drugged? Hrr?”

  “Let’s sit you up. Maybe that will help.”

  The world wobbled around quite a bit but finally settled into a familiar orientation, and after a few minutes to clear my head, I had enough wits to realize I was sitting on the ground, leaning against a smooth boulder, Ben squatting on one side of me while another man knelt on the other. Two camping lanterns sat next to them, casting a thin white-blue light around us. It was dusk, the sky a deep indigo, with just a smidgen of the moon starting to come up.

  “Hello,” the man said, smiling broadly when I looked at him. He had kind of a singsong accent, something I hadn’t heard before. It sounded almost English, but wasn’t quite. It was a nice voice—not as intriguing as Ben’s, but nice. The rest of him wasn’t bad, either. He had a squared chin with a little cleft in it, very pale blue eyes, like polar ice, and reddish blond hair that made me think of the word “russet.”

  “Hi. Are you the one who put a bag over my head and drugged me?”

  “Yes.” He grimaced a little. “Well, it was a blanket, but yes, that was me.”

  “Ah. Gotcha.” I made a fist and slammed it into his nose.

  He fell over backward with a squawk. Ben, who quickly righted me when I tipped over from the momentum of punching the man, laughed loudly. “I told you she wouldn’t take kindly to that sort of treatment.”

  The man sat up, gingerly feeling his nose, his eyes crossing as he tried to look at it. “Next time I’ll take your word for that. I’m sorry if you’re feeling any after-effects of the chloroform, Fran. I assumed that since you were a Beloved, you wouldn’t suffer any of the normal unpleasantries that mortals might.”

  “Well, I’m not a Beloved, so don’t do it again. Who are you?” I asked, taking advantage of my wobbliness to lean into Ben.

  “Benedikt’s blood brother. And I’m delighted to meet you at last. He talked about nothing else for so long, I was beginning to think he was mad. But now I see why he did so.”

  “You’re . . . uh . . . Daffy?” I asked, racking my brain for his name.

  Ben laughed even harder as the other man pulled a face. “David Kneath, actually.”

  “I’m sorry.” I rubbed my forehead. “I could have sworn Ben wrote me an e-mail about you and your name was Daffy. I must be punchier than I thought.”

  “It’s spelled Daffyd, but pronounced ‘dav-ith’ actually. I’m Welsh, you see.”

  I didn’t see what that had to do with anything, but nodded.

  “If it makes it easier, just call me David. Most people do.”

  “Thanks. Would you mind terribly me asking why you kidnapped and drugged me? And where we are? And what you’re doing here?” The last question was asked of Ben.

  “I told you that the secrets I had were not mine to share. They’re David’s,” Ben answered, his voice seeming to skitter along my skin. I shivered and rubbed my arm, trying to pull my mind from all sorts of thoughts about Ben so I could focus on what was important.

  You’re going to make it difficult for me to court you if you think those sorts of thoughts.

  I told you the idea of courting is outdated. I don’t want some grand, epic love story sort of saga, Ben. I just want . . .

  You want to fall in love with me.

  Yes. No. Both. I just want to know if I want to be with you because I’m in love with you, or just programmed to be with you.

  I understand. But it’s still going to make it difficult for me to restrain myself from making love to you if you think about doing all those things you’re thinking about doing with your tongue.

  I’m a modern woman, Ben. I can actually have sex without being head over heels in love with a man.

  His eyebrows rose.

  That didn’t quite come out the way I hoped it would, I admitted, feeling pretty trashy. I just meant that I like you well enough to have sex without formally declaring that yes indeedy, you are Mr. Right Forever. And while we’re on the subject, stop eavesdropping on my smutty thoughts about you.

  I can’t help it. You’re sharing them with me.

  No, I’m not. I have made very sure to keep secret all those fantasies about licking you, and nibbling on your chest, and touching your . . . Gah! Now you’re putting thoughts into my head!

  He chuckled.

  David shot him a startled look.

  “My apologies. Continue, David.”

  “Benedikt told me that you’d come here to Join with him, but the work he’s doing
for me has interfered with that,” David said slowly, his face suddenly grim.

  You told him that?

  I thought it was best.

  Well, you can just straighten him out on the subject!

  I will if it becomes important.

  David sat down next to me, his elbows on his knees as he looked out into the gathering night. “There are not enough ways to apologize for messing up what should have been something wonderful between you, so instead of even trying, I’m going to explain to you what’s going on.” He glanced over at Ben. “People’s lives are at stake, Fran, so I’m going to ask you not to repeat anything we say here.”

  “Of course I won’t, not if it’s that important.” He looks sad, Ben.

  There has been much tragedy in his life the last few years.

  Is he the reason you disappeared those couple of times?

  Yes.

  “Benedikt has been assisting me the past six years to uncover who is behind the disappearances of my pride members. It took us until this year to finally pinpoint the group we believed was behind it all, and Benedikt, in an attempt to infiltrate the Agrippans, connected with Naomi. He got her a job at the Faire, since he knew that would give him a cover to travel with her.”

  “Wait a second. Did you say pride members? Like gay pride?”

  David looked from me to Ben. “You didn’t tell her?”

  “Tell me what?”

  Ben shook his head. “No. You swore me to secrecy, if you recall.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “That’s right, I did. Do you want to tell her, or shall I?”

  “Someone better tell me, before Mr. Punchy Hand gets annoyed,” I said with a narrow-eyed look that I split between them.

  “David is a therion,” Ben said, just like that explained everything.

  “Bully for him. What’s a therion?”

  David laughed and stood up. “I think in this case, seeing is believing.”

  My eyes widened as his body did an odd sort of shimmer, rippling and twisting until it turned into a sandy cinnamon-colored lion, an honest-to-Pete lion, complete with big brown mane, pale light blue eyes, and what I assumed were exceptionally big teeth.

  “Goddess above,” I said, my eyes almost bugging out at the sight of the lion as it turned and faced me. “That’s a . . . that’s a . . .”

  “A lion, yes,” David said as the lion form shimmered back into that of a man. A naked man.

  Stop ogling him.

  I’m not. But . . . holy crickets. He’s naked.

  You are ogling. I wish for it to stop.

  I’m trying, I’m trying. Oh man! My eyes widened further as David nonchalantly bent to retrieve his pants.

  If you wish to ogle someone, you may ogle me.

  Yeah? Think Naomi would let me?

  He was silent, but I could feel his irritation.

  David buttoned up his shirt and gave me a rueful smile as he sat down again. “A therion is a shape-shifter with two primary forms. One of mine happens to be that of an Asiatic lion.”

  “You’re like a werewolf, but with a lion instead of a wolf?” I asked, then craned my head to look behind me, where the moon was beginning to clear the horizon. “Is it a full moon?”

  “Therions can shift at will, Francesca,” Ben said, taking my hand and rubbing his fingers across mine. It was a possessive move that I knew had its origins in the eye candy David had provided. I smiled to myself. “The myth about the full moon is a human fiction, nothing more.”

  “Oh.” I looked back at David, my mind struggling to cope with the fact that he was a lion. “I thought . . . This is really stupid, I know, but I have to ask . . .”

  “You thought vampires and werewolves hated each other?” David grinned at Ben. “That’s a fallacy, too. For one, the therions who favor wolf forms tend to be a very tight-knit group, and don’t mingle much with outsiders. For another, therions have no reason to dislike Dark Ones.”

  “I’m glad to hear that. So, people in your . . . er . . . pride are disappearing, too?”

  “Too?” Ben asked.

  “There are a lot of things disappearing around me lately,” I told him. “My mother and the Vikingahärta, to name two. And Imogen’s boyfriend.”

  “That’s no great loss,” Ben said in a tight voice.

  I just bet Imogen loves it when you give her boy-friends a hard time.

  If she had better taste in men, I wouldn’t have to.

  Spoken like an overprotective brother.

  “These disappearances have been going on for years, so I’m afraid they’re not related to yours,” David said, rubbing his face wearily.

  “All right, but what does Naomi have to do with anything? And why is Ben letting her touch him and slobber on him and think she’s his girlfriend?”

  Jealous much, sweetheart?

  Perhaps. Or perhaps I just don’t like seeing a friend hooked up with someone who’s not good for him.

  That gave him something to think about, I noted with satisfaction. Until, that is, it struck me that he didn’t protest being called a friend. And then I realized that I had better take some responsibility for what I wanted, and not dump it all on him. I couldn’t think of anything worse than to realize I had fallen in love with him, only to find out he didn’t reciprocate the emotion.

  Okay. I will admit that I’m the teensiest bit jealous. I don’t like her touching you . And kissing you. And pushing her boobs on you. And while we’re on the subject, do you have to put your arm around her? It makes it look like you’re enjoying it when she rubs herself all over you , which from what I’ve seen is pretty much every time you’re together.

  Yes, that’s just a teeny bit jealous.

  I ignored the laughter in my head to deliver a glare at him before turning my attention back to David.

  “Benedikt said you weren’t happy about that. I’m sorry, but Naomi is familiar with members of the European therion community,” David explained. “We needed someone who could get into her confidence, and that required an unknown. Benedikt offered to do the job, and although I know you don’t like it, he’s been tremendously helpful to us by allowing Naomi to believe he’s romantically interested in her. He found the group that we believe is organizing the abduction of therions across Europe.”

  “Agrippans?” I asked, remembering the word he’d used.

  “Yes. Do you know what an Agrippa is?”

  I shook my head.

  “Originally, it was the name of a book of mystical spells. A few millennia ago, the word came to be applied to the people who created those books, the seekers of knowledge who spent their lives locating and learning magic, which they offered to wield for a price.”

  “Sort of walking encyclopedias of magic?”

  “More or less. They hired themselves out to support their endless thirst for knowledge. Today, there are three Agrippan sets: one in North America, one here in Europe, and one in Africa.”

  “I don’t see the connection between a seeker of knowledge and missing therions,” I said.

  “Neither do we. Yet,” Ben said, his thumb sending little tendrils of heat up my hand with every stroke of it across my fingers.

  “Benedikt’s been pressed hard by Naomi to join the local tyro—that’s a ceremonial meeting of Agrippans—so he can be inducted into the group, but he’s resisted so far.”

  “Oh? Why?” I asked Ben.

  He was silent, his eyes turning dark.

  “Why?” I asked David instead.

  He looked extremely uncomfortable. “Tyros are . . . The Agrippans tend to celebrate their baser natures, and that’s especially true at their ceremonies.”

  He’s talking about sex, isn’t he?

  Yes.

  He wants you to have sex with Naomi? I asked, ignoring as best I could the cold wave of nausea that hit me with tidal force.

  He wishes for me to participate in the tyro. Unfortunately, that would require me to be a part of the group sex that is conducted during
the ceremonies.

  You can guess how I feel about that.

  Yes, I can. And just so you stop thinking lovingly about a serrated grapefruit knife in relationship to my testicles, I will point out that the reason I haven’t attended a tyro is that I have no desire to engage in sex with anyone but you.

  I will admit that both his words and the emotion behind them made me feel all warm inside, but David’s next words killed that.

  “I know it’s asking more from you than I should, but, Fran, it’s important that we find out as much information as he can before Naomi discovers the truth about him. There’s a tyro scheduled for tomorrow night. Benedikt told Naomi he wouldn’t go, but she’s already suspicious, and if he misses yet another one . . . Well, it could make the last couple of years’ work all for nothing. Not to mention risking the lives of two of my pride members who have gone missing in the last six months.”

  I stared at him in horror. “You are not asking me to sanction Ben having sex with a bunch of other people, are you? Because that’s what it sounds like to me, and if you are, you’re seriously in need of some mental counseling.”

  “You have every right to be angry, and I completely understand your reaction, but it would be for just one night. You are Benedikt’s Beloved—he would never want to be with any woman but you.”

  “No,” I said, wanting very much to punch David again.

  “If you understood just how close we are to getting the names of the people involved, and how they are related to the disappearances of my pride members—”

  “No!”

  “If I can do it without the sex, would you agree?” Ben asked.

  I looked at him thoughtfully. “Could you do that?”

  “It might be possible.” He was silent for a moment. I could feel him considering and discarding various options. “I might be able to use you as an excuse. Naomi knows you are my Beloved, but that we’ve had some relationship issues. If I told her that you being here is hampering my ability to make a final commitment to her, she might believe it.”

  And what if I wasn’t here? What if I was back home where you thought I was? Would you be going ahead with this tyro and all it implies?