The Strigoi Chronicles Box Set

by Nya

  Council necks whiplashed from me to Rafe, then to the guest and back to their king. Rafe hummed agreement and did not look especially put out.

  My gut pinged on Rafe being part of the conspiracy. If he was, he hid it well. Not that I was a profiler or especially adept at reading body language, but there was nothing about the medic to indicate culpability in any of the events that had transpired. Given my track record with all things demon, fifty-fifty odds seemed about right.

  Michel said, “Continue, please.”

  Picking the story up from when we crouched by the dumpster, I described the enjoyable sound of brittle bones cracking and then me slip-sliding on human eyeballs and entrails, and mine Père admonishing me about my boots. Jef’s shoulders shook and a few of the liege-lords cracked a snaggle-toothed grin.

  I summarized with the stand-off at the casino vault and my heroic attempt to take out the perpetrator of the human crimes and misdemeanors.

  All eyes swung back to the Demon King who took up the narrative and explained why he opted to take the man alive.

  “Constantin had been charged with spearheading a task force to locate the missing tactical nuclear device. He was very close to determining who had made off with the nuke during the aborted raid on our portal in Romania.” There was considerable shuffling and some whispering amongst the Council, but Dad ignored the interruption and continued. “We had two choices. One was that one of the weres had managed to infiltrate the house, discovered the device where we’d left it,” and he skirted around the issue of ‘unguarded’, “and returned to the pack with his prize.”

  The Level Six Doge spoke up. “But it was my understanding that the nuke was supposed to be activated in that location. Why remove it?”

  “Why indeed? Dreu, will you please explain?”

  “Yes, sir. We were tasked with finding and eliminating one of the last strongholds of Vampyr in Romania. I led them to the dacha in hopes of soliciting help and avoiding a blood bath.” I didn’t see the need to remind the gathering that I was half-Vampyr, with loyalties residing in both camps. That it was a conciliatory gift to my father in payment for the mess I’d made of Level Five was also none of their business.

  Michel tilted his chin in a way that said I was on the right track and to continue.

  “The weres tracked us through half the country. I’m still not clear on why they did that. Stefan was a juvenile pack member and not a particularly valuable contributor. He was too young and unimportant to be worth that kind of persistence.”

  My throat clutched, forcing me to take a moment to recover. Jef had turned and watched me with shuttered eyelids, his face immobile.

  “During my incarceration with the werewolves, their alpha and his second indicated that they thought I was some kind of weapon of mass destruction. Why they would think that is still something that bothers me.”

  But it didn’t bother the Demon King. The set to his shoulders and the expression on his face, now half-turned to watch me without taking his eyes off his potential enemies, told me volumes about what he might have gleaned.

  “Anyway, their pursuit ended with…” Shit, can I say it and not burst into tears? “…ended with Stefan’s death and Jefrumael rescuing me after I’d been hit with enough bullets to incapacitate me.”

  Doge Six and Pops exchanged a glance. They were obviously on the same page. I was still a chapter behind but catching up fast.

  Doge Two ventured the next question. “So who has the nuke? Do we know?”

  Dad turned away, leaving me in the shelter of the dais. If I had to guess, the shit was going to get real any minute now.

  Rafe was the one who addressed the issue of the missing weapon. “We do not have the exact location but we do know that our friend here,” and he laid a hand on the human’s shoulder, “was charged with securing an access point to Level One. To that end, he removed our ally and he was preparing to put in place the necessary next steps required to bring the weapon through the portal.”

  At his liege-lord’s nod, Rafe injected the human with whatever was in the syringe. No one moved as the hapless creature startled from his stupor and vomited all over his shoes. When he sat up, he was quaking in fear, his expression eyes-on-stalks, full out terror.

  Michel asked, “Do you know why you are still alive?” The man nodded, his gaze riveted to the demon lounging casually in his seat, one leg crossed over the other.

  Number Two demanded, “What the hell are you playing at?” but Michel ignored the Doge’s poor manners and continued as if he’d been uninterrupted.

  Jefrumael sidled to Pops’ right, his left hand holding the Glock at his thigh. He was a tightly coiled spring, ready to explode into action. All I could do was prepare to duck.

  His voice barely above a whisper, Michel said, “Please explain,” and cocked his head, a small smile playing about his lips.

  Stuttering incoherently the human finally spit out that he was only following orders, that he’d been promised control over not just that casino but the entire string of establishments bordering the rift between dimensions. That he was motivated by greed, pure and simple, was easy to accept.

  Michel asked, “Who was your contact person?”

  The man was dead and he knew it. I could see his brain tallying up how many he could take down if he went into full disclosure mode. It would have been amusing if he wasn’t touching so close to home.

  Warming up to his role as informant, he said very clearly, “A man called Samuels. I don’t know his last name. He’s a wolf.”

  “And is he the one in charge?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Pops leaned forward, intensely interested in the exchange. “Do you know who is?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you care to point him out?”

  I could have heard a pin drop five levels away. All breathing ceased, not one chair squeaked, not a claw twitched as the human rotated in his seat and pointed…

  With a speed incomprehensible to even my Vampyr senses, the table turned into a Mexican standoff with Colts, Rugers, Glocks and Smith & Wessons pointing in every direction. A red stain spread toward the middle of the table, the deep crimson reeking of the coppery iron of deceit and betrayal. Brain matter, bone splinters and tooth fragments adorned the demons having the bad luck to be sitting across from Doge Two. They didn’t seem to notice.

  The human had fainted, but Rafe jolted him awake with another injection. With a death grip on the podium, I knew I was close to passing out, the stench of blood almost too much to bear.

  My pater familias had not even looked in the direction of the mayhem. Instead he fixed his stare at the cowering man sitting across from him.

  In a conversational tone, Pops inquired, “Who’s running the werewolf pack, is it still Elliot?”

  “N-n-no, sir.”

  With only a modest interest in the were’s internal pack structure, I prepared to step off the dais. The human’s words brought me up short.

  “It’s a new wolf. A young one from what I hear.”

  “And does this new alpha have a name?”

  “Fane. They call him Fane.”

  Epilogue

  Jef found me down by the shore, in full sun, my skin reddening quickly in the early afternoon glare. I’d thrown the suit coat, shirt and tie onto the gravel shore and was in the process of removing the pants, exposing every inch of flesh to the killing rays.

  If a shrink asked me why I’d choose to incinerate myself after hearing that the love of my life still lived, that after I’d spent an eternity of agony in the throes of regret and mourning and now my greatest wish had finally been granted…

  I’d have answered … who the hell knows?

  I’d warned Jef to be careful what he asked for. Why couldn’t I ever take my own advice?

  Jef murmured, “Dreu, don’t do this,” and wrapped his arms around me, still protecting me even though he knew I was preparing to abandon him, to leave him alone and bereft, the same way Fane ha
d left me.

  Wracked with sobs, I stared ahead, not man enough to face my demon lover, to confess my feelings, to come to terms with a heart now locked in mortal combat with two beings who had commandeered my allegiance and my very soul.

  As he sheltered me from the harsh ultraviolet light, he spoke for my ears only.

  “We will find him, Dreu, together. Do you understand?”

  No, no I don’t understand.

  Fane. Alive all this time.

  Why had I not known?

  Why did I still live?

  The demon picked me up like a rag doll and carried me to the shade of a tree, settling onto the rough ground and cradling me tenderly on his lap. Like a lover. Like a friend.

  When I’d finally emptied my soul of tears, he tilted my chin and gently brushed my lips, his tongue sweeping across seared flesh, the two of us shuddering with unspoken need.

  Throat tight, I choked out the question, “Why would you…” but he cut me off with another kiss, this one demanding and rough and sensual.

  Jef was right, I needed to confront my demons—and my Vampyr half chittered at that image—and finally come to terms with who or what had the greater claim to my affections. One thing I knew for certain. I could not love both men and live with myself, it simply wasn’t in me to fracture that tenuous hold on devotion by playing false with an emotion still in the act of becoming.

  I might not understand love, but I wanted it desperately, more than anything I’d ever craved in nine hundred years of meaningless existence. I needed a reason to continue, and there was only one way to discover who this shadow of a man could become and that was to finally face down all the reasons why I hated letting go.

  It was the last thing in the world I wanted to face alone, but how could I taunt Jefrumael with my pitiable prevarications and psychopathic fears? It wasn’t fair, nor just.

  Before I could object to his accompanying me on this new fool’s quest, he said, “Don’t even think of doing this without me,” and pinched my sunburned testicles until I moaned a yes.

  We stood, and he looked down into my eyes, and this time hope flared in shockingly vivid hues of silver and blue.

  He asked the question that nearly eviscerated me. “Do you love him?”

  My heartbeat exploded into a staccato frenzy, my ears pounding to the drumbeat of avoidance. I found myself trapped in a room with no exit, forced to confront the abandoned child and the selfish cleric, both of whom had found answers to living that no longer made any sense.

  I replied, my voice weak with regret, “I don’t know.” And that was last confession truth, raw and honest and gut-wrenching.

  Speaking slowly, hesitantly, Jef said, “Dreu, do you love me?”

  “Maybe.”

  Hope flared in a super nova, his beautiful face transformed and I felt envy and joy and fear and a host of emotions for which I had no words. If it had been in my power, I would give him everything, but lies and truths bridged the divide between us, and forever was a long time.

  Jef husked, “Come on, let’s go home.”

  He removed his jacket and thrust it around my shoulders as we minced our way to the villa and our vehicle. As always I had musings and equivocations and reasons why not, but for once I set them aside and followed my heart.

  The big man had tethered a bit of me to his soul and it hurt in a way that felt right and good.

  I asked, “When do we leave?”

  “Tomorrow, at first light.”

  “Then that leaves us tonight, doesn’t it?”

  Chuckling, he replied, “Yes, it does.”

  “How many beds do we have?”

  With a broad grin, he crushed me to his massive chest and hissed, “Not nearly enough.”

  ****

  “Come in, boy.” Michel bid me sit and offered praise for my performance of the day before with a terse, “You did well.”

  I filled in the blank ‘for an idiot’ but the man no longer intimidated me in quite the same way. I’d been played more times than I could count. I’d now done him a substantial service, repaying at least some of my debts. Of course, with the Demon King it would never be enough, the debit side of my ledger forever in the red.

  That was a fact of life in my new reality. I chose the silk purse route to accommodation with my parental unit. That he would continue to surprise me, at least in the near term, was a given. But I was learning.

  Rather than just up and leave, I’d come to request a bye week, a surcease from the politics and machinations of a realm that required more than I could give. He seemed to appreciate the courtesy and to my surprise he agreed, with conditions.

  “We are closer to discovering the location of that nuclear device and all arrows are pointing to this Samuels. Find him, find the nuke.” He handed me a large, bulky envelope. “There are passports and other documents that will ease in your search, along with enough credits in case you get into trouble.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  We shook hands and I turned to leave but stopped and said, “And about Jefrumael, I appreciate…”

  He dismissed my thanks with a toss of his head.

  As I exited his office, he cautioned, “Take care with your loyalties, son. Not everyone is as he seems.”

  For once the Demon King spoke the truth.

  But loyalty might be the least of my concerns.

  No, not everyone was as he seemed…

  Least of all you, Michel du Velours. Least of all … you.

  ~~~~

  DREU

  DREU

  The Strigoi Chronicles

  By

  NYA RAWLYNS

  With a realm in chaos, two worlds held hostage to violence, the threat of ethnic cleansing

  leaves a species with nothing to lose…

  An accidental discovery reveals the true nature of the cleric sheltered from all but his own excesses. The sins of the mother insinuate every aspect of Dreu’s life, until the Demon liege lord, Michel du Velours, offers him sanctuary… and purpose.

  It also unleashes a tsunami of forces arrayed against the demon ruler committed to peaceful

  co-existence and the heir apparent who offers the ideal target to derail everything Michel and his closest advisors wish to accomplish.

  But the confrontation between species is nothing compared to the conflict tearing the half-Vamp/half-demon apart as he comes to terms with his loyalties and his heart.

  The Demon world offers the cleric something no one else ever has: a family. But as with everything, the one thing Dreu desires most comes with a price.

  Chapter One

  Jef drove with a casual contempt for rules of the road, if Ukraine actually had any, and the jury was still out on that one.

  Add to that an insane disregard for logic…

  “Why are we driving?” It was a reasonable question, and I wasn’t implying that maybe public transportation and unwashed masses, pigs, chickens…

  Oh wait, that was in Bogotá.

  The question remained, the real one…

  “Why don’t we just poof there?”

  “It doesn’t work that way, Dreu.” My demon lover said it in that be kind to dumb animals and ex-monks tone of voice that I’d gotten used to, but just barely. His luscious lips quirked and he turned away to glance in the side view mirror, at what was a mystery, seeing how I was still a novice when it came to all things automotive.

  Speaking of… My belly growled in a vamp way, recalling the quickie in the parking lot, me up against a pole, splinters. That had satisfied one kind of hunger, but there were others.

  Others, as in … Dreu, do you love me? I’d said maybe. Nine hundred years and counting and the best I could do was damned if I know? Blonde curls bouncing to a tune only my favorite assassin heard, a body made for sin, a soul that touched me when it shouldn’t have, igniting cravings and tripping warning claxons … such was my conflicted, misguided, totally fucked four ways from Sunday emotional center.

  Jef muttered
, “Hope he isn’t pissed.”

  For once I was tuned in enough to my companion to at least be aware of the reference. He being mine Papá, the man in Armani, the one who had a hard on for all things contemporary, moderne … the ultimate Euro-trasher. The Demon King of the Nine Realms of watch-your-ass probably wasn’t amused at our knocking out power to the entire district after that little stunt.

  I grinned and Jef looked over at me, his face carefully blank. I said, “They’ll fix it.”

  “It’s Ukraine, lover. That might take a decade or two.”

  “So?”

  “Sooo, you also managed to knock out the main substation for level one.”

  Oops, I really needed GPS to figure out where—when-ish maybe?—these stupid access points to topside intersected with Demon Central. When it came to having a clue my demon half separated from the charming Vampyr, leaving a gap in my twisted psyche that only something carnal could fill.

  “Which reminds me…” Grin turned to full on smirk. “Can we pull over?”

  “Why, do you have to pee?”

  My assassin stared straight ahead, eyes scanning the road and the steep drop-off to our right. Amusement tottered on the edge of annoyed. I liked annoyed, it broke beds, and other things. It also could land my modest five-nine on a graveled beach that would make the discomfort of a few splinters seem like a pleasant interlude.

  Crossing my arms, going petulant, I gave Jefrumael a pout and an excuse. “For your information, I wasn’t the one riding that dead tree to the ground and taking out the entire service line.”

  The blond giant pondered that for a tick, then said, “If memory serves, sire, you are the one with splinters in your ass, not me.”

  Grumbling, “That wasn’t the only thing in my ass,” I was gratified to see interest blossom, my demon going from zero to cocked at the speed of Dreu.