Ellowyn Found: An MM Vampire Trilogy Omnibus Edition Books 1 - 3

by Kayleigh Sky

  Frowning, Zev braced the card, scene side out, against the stem of the lamp on his desk and continued his notations. Beside each family name, he jotted a descriptor.

  Wrythin – personal

  Gennarah – fundamentalist

  Nezzarram – hostile

  Orla – loyalist

  Lotis – elitist

  Senera – friend

  The Wrythins were insisting on a census of drainers. The numbers interested Zev, but he’d never seen a point to it. A person was a drainer or not. Using a donor center required a donor card. But there was no centralization of identities. No master list. Princess Esseline’s count of the drainer births in her district had a much different purpose than the Wrythins’. Zev had no doubt they’d bombard drainer families with their services the first chance they got. Wen had had a much finer sensibility about such things, but Wen was gone.

  He pulled over the Nezzarram pile when a knock came on the door, and Moss stuck his head in.

  “Quick minute to talk?”

  Zev grimaced. Moss only asked him when he anticipated resistance to whatever he wanted to talk about.

  “What is it?”

  Moss shut the door and took the seat across from him. The scent of crisp, cold air clung to him, and his cheeks were flushed. “Your Emek is up to something.”

  Zev’s chair creaked as he leaned back and rested his head against the leather cushion. “My Emek?”

  Moss’s gaze slanted toward the chessboard.

  Two moves so far. An uninspired start. But Emek had shown the capacity to startle him.

  “I caught him casing the lodge.”

  Zev laughed. “Casing. My God. You sound like Otto.”

  “And do you think Otto trusts him?”

  “No. But Otto doesn’t trust anybody. What was he doing?”

  “Circling the lodge. I followed him around twice before I told him to get back to work.”

  “I doubt he has much to do. He’s supposed to wait on me, but I don’t need him anymore.”

  Not since that kiss. Zev didn’t dare call him back. Depositing a tray with his lunch on the coffee table behind Moss’s chair was the most Emek did for him now. Another reason there were only two moves on the chessboard.

  “Get rid of him.”

  “We’re a long way from home. The families arrive tomorrow night.”

  Moss’s eyes narrowed on him. Did Zev look as sick as he felt? As tired? The war hadn’t ended. It had only slid underneath the rocks, waiting for him to stumble, to make a move he’d never recover from.

  “You’re sure about this?”

  “What do you expect me to do? I can’t cancel the meeting.” He sat up again and set his elbows on the table. “They haven’t gotten to me. And I refuse to let them win.”

  “Who is it? Until you know, you aren’t safe.”

  “Hiding won’t make me safe. They hide. They only crawl out in the dark. Whoever it is. What do they want? To usurp me? Who will sit in my place? And what will they do to the Ellowyn? Cast us back into war? Enslave the humans? Is that what we are? Thousands of years of suffering and hate is the best we can do? I won’t have it, and I will make this what I die for.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  Zev smiled at the twitch at the corner of Moss’s mouth. “You are too good to me.”

  “Hardly. I know what you’ve sacrificed.”

  Zev inclined his chin. “Just watch him. And be with me when the families arrive. Maybe I’ll get a feel from one of them.”

  “Or all of them.”

  Zev guffawed. “Ever the optimist.”

  27

  Moseying Around

  The lodge put Dinallah Manor to shame. Three stories of wood and stone. Turrets marked two corners of the massive structure and one wing—the king’s—branched off from the main building. The turret windows were tall and narrow, fan-shaped or square throughout the rest of the house.

  Asa sat near the fire pit on the round patio, playing monopoly with Will and one of the last people hired, a quiet and friendly guy named Casey.

  Asa cupped his hot chocolate, fighting a shiver inside that had nothing to do with the cold. He should’ve gotten over the incident in the manor, but his jawbone still ached, and for some reason, he thought it always would.

  At least Moss hadn’t attacked him, though he’d run Asa down on his walk that morning. Asa hadn’t heard the guy following him. And it wasn’t an accidental run-in either. He refused to believe that, because Moss hadn’t made even a whisper of a sound behind him. How did somebody sneak around on crunching snow? Asa’s raspy breath and slogging steps had made no mystery of where he was. But Moss had appeared in front of him like an apparition taking solid form, forcing Asa to stumble back or run right into him, and then had the balls to look pissed off about it.

  So now Asa sat, pretending to enjoy his time off, instead of plotting his escape. Which he doubted would be on foot. Getting into the forest was easy enough—he’d noted a handful of blind spots. Whoever had built the lodge had meant it as a getaway not a fortress, but the place was crawling with vampires. Like the coffee shop and the pizza place in town.

  Why the hell didn’t vampires sit by themselves with crossword puzzles or go on silent meditation retreats?

  They were a creepily social bunch.

  Asa stood when Isaac and Dennis exited the lodge. “See you guys,” he said to Will and Casey.

  Will gaped at him. “We’re in the middle of a game.”

  “I want to check out the local scenery. This might be our last day off for a while. Leave this and come with us.”

  Something about being around Isaac bothered him more and more. They’d been assigned to the same room again, though it was more like a suite, with a central sitting room adjoined to another bedroom. Old-timey curtains with acorn and oak leave patterns. A braided rug in various greens and browns. It was a nice room, and he didn’t want to complain and make himself even more obvious. And it wasn’t that he didn’t like Isaac. It was more that he didn’t want to. Liking the kid hobbled him. Pinned him in a neon spotlight. He might as well take out an ad—I have something to lose! Better to have no friends, no dreams, no kryptonite. Nothing to get in the way of him and a king he might have to kill.

  Unless he ran.

  “Come on,” he said again. “It might be our last chance.”

  Will huffed and Casey shrugged, but both got up. Asa hurried to the driver’s side and held his hand out to Dennis, who tossed him the keys with a glower. “I get to drive back.”

  “Whatever.”

  “Don’t drive off a cliff.”

  “Pinky swear.”

  He didn’t have much experience behind the wheel, and maybe his driving wasn’t a good idea, but he managed to get them all down to Opal Village.

  The town looked like something on a Christmas card, with snow-topped roofs and gaslight-style street lamps. Cars and pickups parked at a slant against ridges of dirty snow.

  Outside of town, the remains of a split-rail fence around an abandoned RV park poked out of the snowdrifts like bones. The square cabin-like office looked gutted, its roof crushed by some long ago snowstorm. A few side streets shot off from the main one and disappeared into the pines. Some of the shops spilled out warm light, some looked like they hadn’t opened in decades.

  “Is there skiing around here?” Casey asked.

  Asa had no clue, but Dennis shook his head and glanced behind him. “Not anymore. Jere says it’s still popular with hunters though.”

  “Wonder how it survives,” Asa said as he parked in front of the one-screen movie theater.

  “Vampires. Jere said there used to be a portal here. A pretty big one, I guess, and some of the vampires took over the cabins and houses and just stayed. Free real estate.”

  Asa laughed, but no one else did, and the silence was painful. “Go on,” he said. “I’m gonna fill the tank.”

  “Whadda you gonna do after?” Isaac asked.

  H
e shrugged. “Window shop, I guess.” Not that there were many windows.

  Isaac nodded with a flat expression and a slight frown. “I think I’ll check out the movie.”

  “Have fun.”

  The kid slid out the door, closing it with a force that rocked the vehicle. Well, Isaac’s hurt feelings weren’t Asa’s problem. Sure, he owed the kid for taking care of him, but the reality was he would’ve survived on his own. He always had. In fact, he counted the times on his own as the best and easiest times in his life. His closest friend had been Mateo and only because neither one had a hold on the other. No expectations. And when he’d learned Mateo was dead… Well, so would he be one day.

  Better no strings. No reason to hesitate at the crucial moment.

  He headed down the street and crossed an intersection two blocks away. With its space age façade, the town’s one gas station stuck out from the rest of the postcard-pretty scene like something off the sound set of a 50s sci-fi movie. The square office/mini-mart sat under a roof shaped like a triangle lying on its side and painted a garish aqua inside red trim. Two silver tanks under an aluminum-rimmed roof lined a cement block out front.

  Asa pulled up by the front door, flipped open the cover on the gas cap, and got out. A human, bundled in a coat and ski cap, appeared at the back of the vehicle and lifted the nozzle from one of the tanks.

  “Fill it?”

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Asa didn’t know what to do now. He blew into his hands, the bite of the air making him glad of his coat and the two pairs of socks he wore. As though reading his thoughts, the guy said, “You need gloves.”

  “I forgot to bring them. I’m not used to the snow anymore.”

  “You work for the vamp king, don’t you? Saw your caravan arrive.”

  Asa perked up. Vamp king wasn’t the most respectful of titles. “Yeah. For a couple months now.”

  “Pays you enough for a pair of gloves, I hope. Never know with these vamps.”

  Asa chuckled. “Yeah, I get paid.” The guy poked his tongue into his cheek. He was young, younger than Asa probably, but close to thirty. “You lived around here long?” Asa asked.

  “All my life. Where you from?”

  “The Bay Area originally. I live at the king’s manor now.”

  “What’s it like working for vamps?”

  “Pays good. All of us are human. We work together. This place is mostly vampire, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah.” He racked the nozzle and replaced the cap, cocking a quick glance at Asa. “I stick to my own kind.”

  “Don’t blame you.”

  “Come inside and pay.”

  The little office had room enough for a cooler and a few rows of snacks. A ceiling vent blew out warm air and kept the cold by the door.

  “Anything to do in this town besides the movie?”

  “You can eat. The Huntsman is a pretty good place for steaks. Full bar and a game room. Darts and a pool table. They open for dinner, and it’s a favorite with the vamps, but that’s about it.”

  Asa took his change. “Okay. Guess I’ll just look around.”

  “Take care. You need anything, let me know.”

  “Thanks.”

  Less than a minute later, he pulled back into a spot in front of the movie theater, got out, and stuck his hands into his pockets. A window painted with lacy stars drew his attention. Secondhand Gems. A table on the other side of the window displayed games for sale. Parcheesi and backgammon. The kind of games vampires liked. The rest of the place was full of clothes and books and knickknacks. Vases of various sizes, large ones sitting on the floor, filled with tree branches. Candlesticks and figurines. A glass cabinet by the cash register showcased an array of necklaces, bracelets, and rings. He thought about going in to look but stayed outside.

  He’d give himself time to look for the necklaces, though it made no sense that Zev would have brought them. Still, there was no telling why vampires did anything. So he’d look. The thought of Solomon hunting him down turned his spine to ice water. That vamp in his room hadn’t broken a sweat. He’d gotten to Asa within minutes of his screwing up. But if he had no choice—he’d run.

  Nobody could be everywhere. Not even Solomon.

  He’d run away. Away from Isaac wanting a friendship Asa didn’t have it in him to give, away from drainers wanting his blood, away from Zev and that kiss and the memories of trusting so fucking much to somebody who’d never even shown his face in the light. Asa ground his teeth to wake the throb in his bruises—better to remember that—and moved on.

  The Opal Lake Village Coffee Shop sat between an optometrist and an insurance office.

  A laugh tickled his throat. In the now twenty-one years since vampires had overrun the world, he’d never seen one wearing glasses.

  He cleared his throat and stepped through the middle door.

  Warmth buffeted him, brushing at the cold against his back. The aromas of coffee and burnt sugar filled his nose. While swiping his feet on the mat inside the door, he took a look at the random scatter of small tables and the display cases and espresso machines up front. He frowned, noting that the customers, all three, were human. Two sat together with coffee and what looked like strawberry cheesecake in front of them. The third stood at the counter. With his dark brown skin, he was clearly human. He wore a green uniform and a star on his pocket, visible when he turned and nodded, his gaze flickering over Asa’s form as he passed by.

  The bells rang on the door again.

  Asa cleared his throat, bought a cup of coffee, took it to a corner table, and pulled his chess set out of the inner pocket of his jacket. He sat and pushed the latch on the front of the case. When he’d bought the set, the images embossed on each piece had been rubbed thin, so he’d repainted them, and he’d have to do it again soon. The case was dented and scratched, but it fit the memorial card he carried inside. After he removed the card and slipped it into his pocket, he set the pieces in their places from memory and played the game Garry Kasparov lost to Deep Blue in their first match. He took his time and imagined all the other possible moves that could have been made. When he moved the white knight, he pictured the heavy, carved pieces in Zev’s set and the dark glow in Zev’s studious eyes. Warm as a fire on a cold night. Hot enough to melt Asa’s bones. So intense. So into a game Asa could tell he’d wanted to lose. A strange creature even for a vampire.

  Asa moved the black bishop next, swiveled the set around and moved the white bishop. He lost himself in the game, only coming out of it when a shadow fell across his board. He looked up. The human clerk set down another cup.

  “Yours is cold,” she said.

  She picked up his half empty one and walked away. He stared at his coffee, its swirl of frothy milk unfurling like a leaf, then looked around. A couple he’d never heard enter stood at the counter now.

  Would they poison him?

  No. It would bring too much attention. Maybe delivering fresh coffee carried no message beyond attentive service. He hooked his finger through the handle and lifted his cup. His gaze fell to the small round doily on the saucer. He read the short line written on it.

  Your friend likes popcorn.

  He stared at the doily, forcing a frown, and willing himself to give away no more than a foggy bewilderment. But he wasn’t bewildered. This was about Isaac. And how would they know he liked popcorn unless they were watching him at the movie theater, because where else would he have gotten the popcorn. Was one of them still there, keeping Isaac in their sights?

  Your friend…

  Isaac wasn’t his friend, except… That’s whom Asa thought of everytime he had to remind himself that having a friend was too risky. Now he had a hundred percent confirmation of that.

  He dropped the doily and took a swallow of coffee, then set the cup down. After he finished his game, he packed up his set and left.

  The sun had fallen behind the mountains, and shadows painted dark stripes on the pavement, and the air froze his skin. Dennis ca
lled to him from the pizza parlor across the street. “Over here!”

  He looked both ways before darting over. Isaac, Will, and Casey sat in a booth against the back wall. They’d ordered several pizzas and a pitcher of beer. Asa slid onto the seat beside Casey, and Dennis joined Will and Isaac on the other side.

  “What movie did you see?” Asa asked.

  Isaac’s mouth formed a hint of a smile around his pizza.

  Casey cackled. “Van Helsing.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Before that was Underworld and next up is Daybreakers.”

  “Christ,” he muttered.

  The others laughed, and Isaac grinned at him. He kept his face blank and bit into a slice of pizza.

  Not friends.

  28

  Vampires

  Otto took a chair in front of the window in the salon, and Moss closed the pocket doors behind them.

  “How do they get here?” Otto asked. “I assume they come from all over?”

  “Yes,” said Zev, taking the chair across from him. “Only two of the families are far distant. They’ll fly in and take a car like the others. Their attendants will follow.”

  Otto snorted. “That’s something you don’t see everyday. Flying vamps.”

  “Were you expecting wings?” asked Moss.

  Otto laughed.

  Zev glanced at Uriah, who stood at a distance. “Make yourself comfortable, Uriah.”

  “I’m fine, sire.”

  Uriah shot a quick glance at Moss. Color rose into Moss’s face before he approached the window and gazed outside. “They will be angry at the change of venue, but they’ll pretend they weren’t inconvenienced.”

  “Admitting my control over them,” said Zev, “is conceding power.”

  “You have power over them,” said Moss.

  Zev shrugged. “It’s a dance. Sadly, I’m a lousy dancer,” he added.