by Lisa Emme
“Thank you, thank you, Harry.” Hilde threw her arms around me. “I will defend you to my last death and bake you the best bread you have ever tasted.” She smiled.
I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re welcome, Hilde. I guess I should say welcome to the family.”
Isaac pulled the exuberant Hilde off me. “You should go, Harry. Best not to keep Salvador waiting.”
“Yeah, you’re right. So, I guess…” I looked over at a scowling Nash. “I guess I have a ride home, so you can go on without me.” Nash snorted. I shot him a glare, but he just stared back at me, his eyebrows rising. I turned back to look at Hilde. “Isaac will find someplace for you to spend the day.” I looked at Isaac.
He nodded. “Not to worry, Harry. We’ll work something out.”
Nash grabbed my arm impatiently. “Come on Harry, quit stalling. His highness is going to be getting impatient.” He dragged me towards the elevator.
The bell dinged and the doors opened immediately. Salvador must have sent it back down for us. We stepped inside, Nash releasing my arm to punch a code into the panel as the doors slid shut. I leaned back against the wall and crossed my arms, waiting for Nash’s outburst. He turned and leaned against the side wall and looked at me, his lips drawn, his brow furrowed. He was pissed.
“Well, come on,” I said. “Let’s have it.”
Chapter Twelve
The elevator ride seemed to go on forever.
Nash narrowed his eyes, his nostrils flaring as he took in a deep breath. Finally, the elevator dinged again. We were at our floor. Nash strode out the moment the doors slid open, stopping with his hand on the door frame. “Trust me Harry, I will certainly let you have it.” He gave me a scorching look that almost made my knees buckle and then stalked away. I stood for a moment as heat flooded through my body. I wasn’t sure if he was planning on fucking me or punishing me or both. And didn’t the ‘all of the above’ answer just turn my crank? I took another deep breath, leaping for the elevator door as the bell rang and it began to slide closed.
I hurried out the door and into a large foyer. I had no clue where I was. A semi-darkened hall to the left seemed to lead to a large open spaced room with floor to ceiling windows. I could hear glasses clinking and the low purr of Salvador’s voice, so I followed the sounds down the hall and stepped out into the room. I gaped, looking around at the swanky apartment. I had expected to get out in Salvador’s private lounge above the club, but instead, the elevator had carried us all the way up to the penthouse and what must be Salvador’s private quarters.
“Ah, there she is,” Salvador was standing at a small butler’s cart, helping himself to some ice for his drink. He waved the ice tongs at me. “Come in, Harry. Don’t be shy.” He fixed me with a stare. “Or perhaps I should call you Angharad Grainne, as I am particularly miffed with you.”
I winced. It’s not that I didn’t like my name, although I did prefer Harry, but I certainly didn’t want Salvador whipping out my first and middle names so he could scold me like, well, like he was my father or something.
“Really Salvador,” I said as casually as I could, shooting a quick glance at Nash. “I’m not a child.” Nash, who was standing with his back to me looking out over the lights of the city, snorted and then took a long swallow from his glass.
Salvador looked at me, a calculating smile on his face. His eyes flicked to Nash and then back to me as he realized that Nash didn’t know about our familial connection. His eyes narrowed in thought for a moment and then he shrugged as if deciding to let me get away with my little omission to Nash. He lifted a crystal decanter from the cart and splashed some scotch or whatever it was into his glass. “Would you care for a drink Harry?”
I licked my lips. “I’d kill for a shot of tequila right about now.” It was about the only alcohol that gave me a brief buzz with my whacked out metabolism. I moved further into the room, keeping my distance from both Nash and Salvador, to perch on the rounded arm of the white leather sectional. With a little nod of his head, Salvador reached into the bottom cupboard of the cart and pulled out a distinctive looking bottle. “Geez, Salvador, don’t waste the good stuff on me,” I said, eyeing the amber-gold liquid. It was Gran Patron Burdeos. I’d heard of it, but at about six hundred bucks a bottle, I had never tried it.
Salvador raised an eyebrow and gave me a patronizing look. “Perhaps it is time to develop your palate, my dear.” He poured me a rather generous shot into a low glass and held it out to me. I rose and walked over to take it from him, being careful to ensure my fingers didn’t touch his. Salvador grinned, aware of my awkward attempt to avoid contact with him. He raised his own glass in salute. “Salud!”
I raised my glass in response. “Here’s mud in your eye.” I sipped the amber liquid cautiously, not wanting to repeat the mistake I made previously when I tossed back some of Salvador’s twenty-one year old Irish single-malt and it burned all the way down. Surprisingly, this sip was smooth and sweet. I smacked my lips, tasting vanilla and raisins with a woody finish. “Nice,” I said, nodding my head in appreciation. Salvador smiled and indicated I should sit down. I glanced at Nash who had yet to turn around. I guess I was getting the cold shoulder. With a little shrug, I slipped down the buttery soft leather and took a seat, leaning back, the leather quickly warming against my bare skin. I crossed my legs casually, hopefully exuding more calm than I felt. It took a large amount of concentration to just keep my heart from racing.
“I must commend you, Harry,” Salvador said, taking another slow drink. “I did not think you were as,” he tipped his head from side to side, “ruthless, shall we say, as to plan tonight’s little entertainment.”
I gaped at him in surprise, or at least what I hoped looked like surprise. “I really don’t…” I fell silent at Salvador’s raised eyebrow. Wow, he was really taking to the whole annoyed parent role like a natural. I swallowed, my mouth feeling like it was filled with dust. Stalling for time, I took another sip of tequila, letting it roll around in my mouth for a moment to bring out the flavours. I noticed Nash had turned to watch Salvador and me, his expression curious. “It was Isaac’s idea,” I finally admitted. “Hilde is his friend, as you are probably aware, and she’s tired of being a sex toy for dirty old men. Besides, I needed a baker.”
“I see. And Petyr?” Salvador set his drink on the table and sat back, one arm resting on the back of his seat. “Whose idea was it to use Petyr?”
I shrugged. “He was going to be a problem. We thought it best to deal with him before the Mariposa’s arrival.” I fixed him with a stare, daring him to disagree.
“Perhaps,” he tilted his head in a little shrug. “And the other? The one you sent to his final death?”
“He was trying to kill me.” I sounded so blasé about it, but it was true, he was trying to kill me so I killed him first. It was kill or be killed and I’d do it again in a heartbeat, if I had no other choice.
Salvador fixed me with a penetrating stare. After a moment, he nodded as if he saw something he liked. “Bueno.” He reached for his drink and raised his glass to me. “Well played, Pequeña.” I tossed back the rest of my tequila, almost wishing for the burn of the cheap stuff. Salvador turned and looked at Nash. “Detective! So quiet. Come, come!” He waved Nash over to a seat. “Join us. Sit with your…Mate.” He put an emphasis on the word so you could hear the capital letter.
Nash took one last, long drink and set his glass down on the butler cart before walking around the sectional. He reached out with his hand as he passed behind me, his fingers skimming over my shoulder and across his mark. A shiver ran down my spine and I brushed his hand away, frowning at him. He returned my glare, his face impassive, but I knew the anger was still there, simmering below the surface.
He sat down beside me, putting himself between me and Salvador. His thigh rubbed against mine, making my leg
tingle and I jumped up from my seat. “I need another drink. Can I get anyone a refill?” I grabbed my glass and headed over to the cart, avoiding eye contact with either Nash or Salvador as I busied myself with pouring a generous dose of tequila into my glass.
“So tell me Detective, what news is there on our little problem?”
I barked out a surprised laugh and then tried to cover it with a fake cough. Of course Salvador would call the violent death of four norms a ‘little problem’. He had referred to the whole DiCastro debacle as a ‘little zombie problem’.
Nash leaned forward, his face serious. “The coroner has confirmed that both female bodies had vampire bites on the inner thigh. We had her go back and re-examine the neck injuries on all the victims and it is her belief that the damage was done post-mortem as a means to try and disguise the fact that at least three, possibly four vampires fed on the victims.”
Salvador swore, at least I think he did, but it was mostly in his mother tongue and to my grade twelve Spanish it sounded like someone had done something nasty to the communion wafers.
Nash waited patiently until Salvador’s Spanish rant lost steam. “We need to lock this down, Salvador.”
Salvador turned a cold stare towards Nash. “I am aware of this, Detective. I can assure you that none of my people are to blame. They are under strict orders to feed only in a designated club. Anyone found feeding elsewhere will be spiked.”
Nash gave Salvador an impressed look. Whatever spiking was, it must have been a really good deterrent. “So do you think that this is an advance party for the Mariposa?”
“Yes,” Salvador nodded. “It certainly is her style.”
“So why are you letting this bitch come here?” I spoke aloud without realizing it.
“I am not letting her do anything.” Salvador said, his voice harsh. “The Mariposa does as she pleases. We will just have to weather the storm, minimize the damage and present a united front when the time comes.” He sounded almost resigned. It was scary, but only because he didn’t sound scary.
I mulled over Salvador’s words. Something was bothering me. “Omigod! She’s coming here to try and steal your territory!” I tossed back another shot of tequila, forgetting to sip it.
Salvador smiled at me indulgently, like I was a small child that had finally grasped a difficult concept. “Yes Harry, she will make a play for Riverton and the surrounding territory. She wishes a foothold in North America and thinks that I may be ripe for the picking.”
“Why would she think that?” I was genuinely confused. Salvador didn’t particularly come across as weak.
“We had a parting of the ways years ago, a falling out of sorts when we began to disagree on some fundamental principles. Catalina views any deviation from the way she does things as a sign of weakness.”
“Catalina?”
“Yes, she has a name, like anyone else. Catalina Gutierrez, although if you call her that, she will probably gut you Harry, so beware.” Salvador gave me another patient look.
“Fine, fine.” I raised my hands in front of me in a calming motion. “I’ll try to remember not to piss off the woman who calls herself the ‘butterfly of death’.” I air quoted the last bit.
Nash smirked and then quickly covered it with a frown. I threw him a cheeky grin and he winked at me. Good. Maybe it was a sign that he wasn’t as angry with me as he was earlier.
The wheels still turning, I frowned again. I should have skipped the third shot of tequila because my head was feeling a little fuzzy. “But why now? You said your falling out was years ago.” Salvador looked at me patiently, an eyebrow cocked. It took a minute, but the wheels finally clicked over. “Oh! Ohhhhhh, right. The whole necromancer thing.” Great, so some psychotic vampire and her entourage were on their way to Riverton and it was all my fault. Peachy. I walked back around the couch and sat down beside Nash, his warmth beside me a comfort.
Salvador took pity on me. “There are many reasons, Harry. The fact that you are a necromancer is just a mere convenience.”
“So what do we do in the meantime?” Nash sat forward again. “Their goal is obviously to disrupt our relationship with the norms, to stir things up and it’s definitely working. The mayor is on the war path.” He ran a hand through his hair. “There is no rhyme or reason to the attacks, no way to predict or prevent them.”
I shook my head. “Sure there is. There definitely is a pattern.” Nash turned to look at me, surprised. “What? It’s all over the news,” I said defensively. Nash gave me a skeptical look, like he knew there was more and I was holding out on him. I bit my bottom lip and then gave little shrug. “And maybe I hacked into RPD’s server and read your filed reports.” Okay, so I sort of fudged that last bit, but Nash would know it was Bryce that really did the hacking. There was no need for Salvador to know that little fact. Nash scowled, but I rushed on. “All the victims have been surburbanites, killed when they were away from home, out of their safe zones, but still in places they frequent often enough to consider them safe - the 24-hour gym, the all-night diner, the bar, the late-night pharmacy. These are the sorts of places we need to watch.”
Nash gave me an incredulous look. “Do you know how many places fit that criteria? Over a hundred probably.” He shook his head. “We don’t have the manpower to watch that many places. I can’t just send the norm units into a possible situation where they will have to face down vampires.”
“You don’t have the RPD manpower, but what about Cimmerian manpower? What about members of the SRU? There must be other vamps that we know can be trusted to help patrol and I’m sure some werewolves would volunteer. Salvador could speak to the Conclave and get some battle mages assigned as well.” I looked at Salvador. He was slowly nodding his head as the idea took root. “You said we had to be united. Well, let’s unite then. If we flood as many areas as we can with regular patrols, maybe we can discourage the monsters from hunting.”
“It could work,” Nash replied. “It’s better than sitting on our thumbs hoping for a break.”
Salvador nodded again. “I’ll make some calls and see that it’s done.”
“We can coordinate things through the SRU. They can set up watch schedules and areas. We could have things up and running for tomorrow night.” He looked at his watch. “Make that later today.”
Salvador clapped his hands, his mood visibly lightened. “Wonderful. Well done, Harry.”
I shrugged, bothered by the fact that Salvador’s praise seemed to mean something to me.
Nash jumped to his feet and grabbed my hand, pulling me up to stand beside him. “If you will excuse us Salvador, it’s been a long night.” He slipped his arm around my waist, guiding me towards the exit.
“Yes, yes. Certainly.” Salvador smiled at me indulgently. “Goodnight, my dear Harry. As always, it was a pleasure to see you.” He nodded at Nash. “Detective, I trust you will see Harry home safely.”
Nash grunted something in the affirmative and ushered me towards the hallway. I was suddenly feeling very tired as the events of the evening combined with the three shots of tequila began to catch up with me. We stepped into the elevator foyer and I was surprised to see my coat and Nash’s riding leathers waiting for us. Must be nice to have such efficient servants.
Nash helped me into my coat and pulled on his leather jacket without saying a word. As the elevator doors dinged closed behind us, he leaned over and whispered, “I haven’t forgotten about you, minx.” I don’t know whether it was the elevator starting its sudden descent or the heat in Nash’s words, but my stomach did a little flip.
Chapter Thirteen
You’d think I would have learned my lesson the last time. Namely, that it was not a good idea to get on the back of a motorcycle with Nash when he was angry. The man was a complete maniac. It’s an experience I wouldn’t wish on my enemies, or at least my ‘frenemies’. T
onight, it felt like it was the equivalent to mainlining straight caffeine. By the time we reached the firehouse, I was wired, my earlier lethargy blown away by the adrenaline pumping through my veins.
The apartment was quiet. Tess had an early morning class so I wasn’t surprised that she hadn’t waited up. I had just draped my trench coat over the back of a chair and was hanging up my katana when Nash stomped in. He stopped, his eyes slowly travelling down my body and then up again. When his gaze met mine, it was full of hunger. He licked his lips. In two strides, he closed the distance between us, backing me up against the wall. His hand twined roughly through my hair pulling my head back as he crushed himself against me, his lips on mine. There was nothing gentle about this kiss. It was more a claiming than anything else, his way of making me remember I was his. He was in control of my mouth and he was taking no prisoners. He trailed his finger down my bare skin, following the deep plunge of my neckline and I groaned. When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, my mouth swollen and used.
“Are you completely nuts?” Nash took a step back, putting some space between us. “How could you put yourself in danger like that?”
“I wasn’t in any real danger.” I muttered, my mind still recovering from the kiss.
“Two vampires tried to kill you. You killed one of them!” Nash raked a hand through his hair.
“Well, see? I had it all under control.” I gave him a coy smile.
Nash scowled and wagged his finger at me. “No, don’t get flippant with me about it. You should have told me what was going on.”
“Why? So we could have argued about it first?” I blew out a frustrated breath. “Are you planning on telling me beforehand every time you have to do something dangerous?”
“Of course not. I’m a cop. My job is dangerous almost every day.”
“Right. Exactly. I just have to trust that you will do the right thing and be careful. So why don’t I get that same trust from you?” Nash gaped at me, his mouth opening and closing. I threw my hands up and turned to head down the hall to the stairs. “I don’t have the energy to have this conversation with you right now. I’m going to take a shower.”
