A Taste of Crimson

by Marjorie M. Liu

  “They’re worth over one million dollars,” said her grandmother. “Crestin was pennies. Practice for Eric.”

  “But he made a mistake,” Michael said. “He left behind some DNA.”

  “Crestin took me by surprise,” Eric said. “He fought well.”

  “And making the kills look like a werewolf was involved?” Keeli asked her grandmother. “Didn’t you think that would cause us trouble?”

  “Kippenham promised his protection. He had contacts, influence with the city government. And I knew that as long as there was no hard evidence left behind, the politicians would be unwilling to call for a roundup. Especially for the murder of vampires.”

  “Kippenham is dead,” Celestine said. “We killed him.”

  “I know.” Her face darkened. “I wish you hadn’t done that.”

  Keeli sat down on the chair in front of the fire. She stared at the flames; Michael touched her shoulders. She listened to the shift of bodies, the rustle of cloth, and thought of the vampires and werewolves beyond the door, waiting for something, some conclusion and answer.

  “We can’t tell the vampires that Eric has been assassinating them,” Keeli said, turning in the chair. “They’ll want him dead, and then they’ll turn on the wolves.”

  Eric shook his head. “I committed crimes. They deserve the truth.”

  “They do not deserve anything of the sort,” Hargittai said.

  “I agree.” Celestine touched her son’s cheek, and then drew her hand away as though burned. Keeli looked up at Michael.

  He said, “All they know is that the Grand Dame did not kill the child. They have no idea what she used him for.”

  “All right.” Keeli studied her grandmother, who watched Michael’s hands on her shoulders. “We’ll keep it that way. But things are going to change. Someone needs to pay for these crimes.”

  “Keeli,” the Grand Dame began, and then stopped. Someone knocked on the door. Jas poked his head in.

  “Moonrise will be soon.” He glanced at Michael. “You’ll need to keep an eye on our guests, what with Dumont ordering them to stay until the negotiations are complete.”

  Keeli stifled her surprise. Jas trusted Michael to do something important? Michael squeezed Keeli’s hand and said, “Hasn’t anyone informed her of this new situation?”

  “Frederick is convinced that the Assembly doesn’t give a damn who leads. Any will do. They just want results.”

  “Jas,” the Grand Dame said, gliding past. A chill swept over Keeli’s body, the urge to recoil. “Do you still wish to be Alpha?”

  He hesitated, and in his eyes Keeli saw the desire, the dream—defiance hot in his blood. But then he swallowed, hard, and shook his head. The Grand Dame bowed her own.

  “Prepare the ring,” she said, and her voice was bitter, sad. “Prepare the wolves. We have a challenge.”

  The challenge ring was accessible only through a trapdoor in the main corridor of the Alpha core. A ladder led down, deep into shadow. The Grand Dame descended first, with Jas above her. The other Alphas hung back.

  “We have no time,” said Hargittai. “Are there rooms we can use?”

  Keeli pointed at all the doors lining the hall within the Alpha core. “Those rooms are unoccupied. You can use them.”

  The gathered Alphas did not move. With the vampires beside them, they gazed steadily at Keeli and then Michael, Celestine, and finally, Eric.

  “So that’s what happens when we screw each other?” Leroux pointed at Eric. Hargittai growled. Leroux raised his brow and looked at Keeli. His eyes were calm. “It could be worse,” he said.

  “Yeah,” said one of the women standing behind him. “He could look like you.”

  The wolves laughed out loud. Leroux closed his eyes, a smile touching his crooked lips. Eric stared at them all, a look of wonder on his face, and Keeli thought, Yes, this is going to work. Somehow, we will make this work.

  The vampires did not laugh. They did not smile. But Celestine had her head thrown back and she stared at them, defiant, one pale hand wrapped tight around her son’s. Maybe bald was a good look on a woman, Keeli decided. Especially when she stopped being a bitch for just one minute.

  “You all better go,” Keeli said to Hargittai. “You need to get locked down.”

  Hargittai looked at Eric. “Do you shift during full moon?”

  “I can control it,” Eric said. “I’ll be fine.”

  Hargittai rested his hand on the young man’s shoulder. “I cannot wait to find out more.” He reached past his son and grabbed Celestine. He kissed her, long and deep, ignoring the vampires and werewolves shifting uncomfortably around them. Her face flushed crimson. Keeli glanced at Michael. He wore an odd expression, confused and disturbed. She could not imagine what he was thinking.

  “This is disgusting,” Frederick muttered.

  “Right.” Keeli pointed at the ladder. “After you.”

  The vampires descended into the darkness. They refused the ladder, floating down one after the other. The Alphas peeled away to find sanctuary for the moonrise; Hargittai went with them.

  “Be safe,” he said to Keeli, before he loped down the hall.

  Which part of me? she wondered. Body or soul?

  Michael’s lips brushed the top of her head. She took a deep breath, and climbed down the ladder.

  There were no lights; the challenge ring was used so seldom that no one had wired it for electricity. Light was unnecessary, though. Everyone there could see perfectly in the dark.

  The Grand Dame was already in the ring, a deep circular pit surrounded by thirty-foot-high concrete walls. Keeli looked down at her grandmother and kicked off her shoes. Vampires lined the edge of the pit. Ironic. The only witnesses to this challenge would be the very people werewolves distrusted most.

  Keeli jumped into the pit, easily absorbing the impact of her fall. The sand was soft, cool beneath her bare feet. Keeli sank her toes into it, testing her balance. Her body tingled.

  “The moon is rising,” Jas cried, already climbing the ladder to the Alpha core, escaping the ring. “Hurry!”

  Keeli stripped off her clothes, tossing them away. Her grandmother did the same. They stared at each other, and Keeli felt her heart break.

  “Please,” Keeli said.

  “You’ve made your choice.” The Grand Dame’s voice wavered. “This is the way it has to be, the way it has been done since the first wolf. I will not abdicate to you, Keeli. Never. I could never live with myself if it cost you your life.”

  “The wolf will be on us both,” Keeli reminded her. “What if you kill me?”

  A sad smile touched the Grand Dame’s lips. “We both know the outcome of this fight, Keeli.”

  Keeli did not know the outcome, but the look in her grandmother’s eyes made her afraid. She could taste the old woman’s resignation like a cold stone, heavy on her tongue.

  She tore her gaze away and looked up at the pit’s edge. Michael stood there, Erik and Celestine at his side with the vampire envoys spread out around them, watching everything with varying expressions of fascination and contempt. All the wolves were locked away in their rooms or chained in the halls. The only two who remained free were Keeli and her grandmother, and at the end of the night, just one would be left standing.

  Michael jumped into the air and alighted beside Keeli. He touched her face.

  “I love you,” he said. “Carry that with you tonight, if you can.”

  She nodded, unable to speak. She rubbed her arms. Felt the beginnings of fur. Moonrise. The full moon, pulling beast from humans.

  Keeli forced her throat to work. “Get away from me.”

  Michael kissed her—hard, quick—and flew into the air.

  Keeli did not watch him leave. Her lips burned from his kiss—burned as flesh pulled, stretching back over shifting bone—pulling low, pulling in—muscles bunching tight, against her ribs, her hips. Her lower back ached; Keeli gritted her teeth, growling as bone gathered and pushed out—and
suddenly she was on all fours, writhing in the sand, hugging back the pain, the fire in her gut, and she opened her mouth to scream and all she heard was a high whine, a whimper that was animal—wolf. …

  She closed her eyes for just a moment. When she opened them, the world was different. Different, similar—scents bright and alluring—but after a moment, none of that mattered.

  There was another wolf in the ring with her.

  She had a vague sense of unease, a—no, do not hurt her, please, please—but the other wolf bared teeth, snarling, and she forgot words, thought, as adrenaline rushed through her body, responding to the instinct to live.

  The wolf attacked—a hard feint that took Keeli off balance so that she stumbled—too slow—teeth razing her ribs, cutting through fur, flesh—pain bright as memory, striking—please no, not this, you cannot—so that she flipped on her side, rolling as the wolf crashed down on her chest, rolling tight to cover her throat, hot spit flecking her muzzle, and still she did not fight, did not struggle for blood, because something—you love her—dulled her reactions.

  The wolf snapped at Keeli’s exposed belly, biting through the soft spot to blood. Agony—Keeli howled, ripping her body free from those teeth with a sharp turn that had her trailing crimson in the sand. Fury tangled with pain—killing reservations, killing everything—and she drove her body into the other wolf, snapping, tearing, and she tasted blood—hot, bright from the throat—I am sorry—and her jaws tightened, piercing, and the wolf below her cried out, cried—love—and Keeli stopped in the middle of the kill, stopped on the cusp of drinking death, and shouldered the shuddering wolf down into the sand. She relaxed her jaw and then slouched down, still and heavy and quiet, on the gasping body. She scented blood, saw it run thick and crimson.

  Keeli rested her head on the wolf’s shoulder, and listened to their heartbeats mingle.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Michael was there when Keeli opened her eyes. She felt sticky and sore and very human. The full moon had come and gone. Sand filled her mouth; the taste of old blood. She spat, rolled over. Hit another body, pale and wrinkled.

  Keeli scrabbled to her knees. Michael crouched beside her as she reached out to her grandmother, pressing her cheek to the old woman’s breast. She listened to the slow steady rhythm of her heart, the rise and fall of her chest. Her throat was pale, perfect. The sand around her head was stained red.

  A sob tore from Keeli’s throat. She fell away from her grandmother, weeping, and Michael wrapped her in his arms, whispering, kissing her cheeks, her tears.

  “I thought I killed her,” Keeli rasped. “Oh, God. If I had killed her—”

  “You didn’t,” Michael whispered, rocking her. “I watched you, Keeli. I watched you stop. You controlled the wolf.”

  Memory filled her, faint: fur and hot blood, rolling, sharp pain. She said, “I was an animal, Michael.”

  “No,” he said, smiling. “You were Keeli Maddox, Grand Dame Alpha.”

  Rustling from above drew her attention; the edge of the pit was filled with werewolves. Werewolves crowded to peer down, jostling for a view. Silent, except for the movements of their bodies. For a moment, Keeli felt afraid. All her grandmother’s warnings swarmed into her heart, immense and terrible. She wondered if this was what her father had felt, in that moment before his death. So small, inferior and weak.

  Michael pulled back from Keeli. She stood on her own, but kept her hand wrapped tight around his. She looked at the wolves—found the vampire envoys far behind them, looking weary and wary. Keeli turned in a circle to meet all their gazes. She saw Jas, Hargittai—even Richard and Suze—face upon face of the familiar. And then, as one, they bowed their heads to her.

  “Greetings,” said a dry voice near Keeli’s feet. Her grandmother stared up at her with a sad, tired pride. “Greetings to the new leader of Maddox, the new leader of all the clans of Crimson City. Grand Dame Alpha Keeli Maddox.”

  Hours later, Keeli found herself in her grandmother’s rooms, sitting in a pea-colored chair in front of the fireplace. Her grandmother sat in the other chair, a steaming cup of tea in her hands.

  “So,” she said, sipping the brew.

  “So,” Keeli said. She studied her fingernails. No more grease to worry about; after today, she wasn’t going to have time to waitress. Guess she’d have to call Jim and let him know. He might care.

  “I still love you,” said her grandmother. Keeli studied those clear blue eyes, the stubborn mouth. She tried to imagine herself becoming that woman, making those same decisions.

  “I love you too,” Keeli said. “But I hope to God I don’t make the mistakes you did.”

  A slow smile touched her grandmother’s mouth. “I hope so, too. I also hope you learn what it means to make the hard decisions, the sacrifices to the heart and soul. I hope, one day, that you understand me.”

  Keeli gave her a noncommittal shrug. “Eric will be moving to Hargittai’s clan. I’ll need your help shutting down that lab, getting rid of the paper trail.”

  “My cooperation in return for your silence?”

  “Something like that. The clans don’t need the scandal.”

  “The clans need the money.”

  “We’ll get it another way.”

  Displeasure sparked in her grandmother’s eyes; it made Keeli’s hair curl, but she reminded herself of blood and sand. She kept her gaze strong, true—and her grandmother looked away first.

  Silence pressed down on them. Keeli tried to remember all the good moments, the sweetness of their relationship, and found she could not. Maybe time would return those feelings. She thought of Michael, too, and those were the only memories that felt good on her heart.

  “Why do you hate the vampires?” she asked.

  “I don’t hate them, Keeli. I simply do not trust them. They have been arrogant for too long, believing themselves full of glory, expecting the good life. The good life has to be earned.”

  “So you were punishing them? Is that what this was all about? All the killings, treating Eric like he was less than human?”

  “No, I was not punishing them. I was teaching them how to be controlled. I was teaching them what it is like to be hunted. The vampires have forgotten what that is like. They have forgotten what it is like to be prey. Eric … Eric was my tool, my weapon.”

  “Your investment.”

  “I do care for him,” she said quietly. “There were times when I almost revealed his existence, when I would look at Hargittai and see Eric in his face and think, yes, now is the time. But I did not tell him, and I let Eric think that he was unloved and alone, because it made him easier to control. He knew I wanted to control him. He knew what our relationship was. I did not pretend to him on that.”

  “Are you trying to make yourself feel better?”

  “Maybe.” Her grandmother smiled. “But the past cannot be changed, and I am not certain I would do anything different.”

  “Nothing?”

  The ex-Grand Dame looked away. “Perhaps I would not have turned on Michael. Perhaps … perhaps I was wrong about him. Or not. Love makes people do very strange things, Keeli. Love for clan, for family.”

  “Love for a vampire.”

  “Yes.”

  Someone knocked on the door. Keeli turned as it opened. Michael entered, with Hargittai and Eric close on his heels. The young hybrid looked nervous; a light sheen of sweat covered his forehead. He swallowed hard when he saw the Grand Dame. Hargittai showed no emotion at all. His was a dead gaze, merciless and empty. A heart devoid of compassion.

  Keeli could not blame him.

  “Ah,” whispered the Grand Dame. She looked at Keeli. “I was unaware we were expecting guests.”

  Keeli said nothing. She had been expecting them. All of this—the sitting, the talking—was nothing more than a prelude to the final act. Keeli’s one last chance to speak with her grandmother face to face. Alone, as blood. As family.

  Hargittai said, “Did you truly think you would e
scape this unpunished?”

  The Grand Dame still stared at Keeli. She met her grandmother’s gaze, unflinching. Not easy. She wanted to weep and scream.

  “No,” said the old woman finally. “No, I suppose I should not have thought that. What will it be, then? An execution? Quiet, in the shadows? Will you let your vampire do the dirty work for you? What a fine choice in men, Keeli. What a good girl I have raised. It is always a fine thing to love and be loved by those who will turn and kill you.”

  “Stop,” Keeli said, her temper rising. “You don’t deserve to talk to me that way. Not after what you’ve done.”

  “And I do not deserve to die,” said the old woman. Her fingers curled like claws around the armrest of the chair. Fur poked through her skin. Keeli felt Hargittai and Michael move; she held up her hand and they stopped. The Grand Dame watched them obey her, vampire and werewolf, and Keeli felt that vision burn a hole into her grandmother’s heart.

  “Who do you think you are?” Keeli asked softly, and to say those words felt like her own little death, the final stab. “Who do you think you are, to murder and deceive?”

  “I was the Grand Dame,” the woman said coldly. “It was my right—my prerogative—to do all that was in my power to help the clans. And if you, my dear, plan on leading them with any success, you will quickly learn to do the same.”

  “Being Grand Dame is my highest responsibility,” Keeli said quietly. “I will give my life to it, if necessary. But I will never break the covenant between myself and the wolves. I will never deceive them, as you have done. I will never shame them with indiscriminate murder, as you have, or steal their children to raise as soldiers, commodities.”

  A high flush stained the Grand Dame’s cheeks. “Just wait,” she whispered. Hateful. “Wait until that moment when you must choose. See what sacrifices you make, and then lecture me.”

  Hargittai snarled. Eric caught him by the arm and swung his father around so that they stared into each other’s eyes. It was uncanny, seeing the two of them together. The resemblance was undeniable, and not just in appearance, but in spirit.