Owl and the Tiger Thieves

by Kristi Charish

  It was Charles, from Alexander’s Paris boys.

  I collected Captain as best I could and covered my nose with my sleeve. Through the cloth I smelled the rotting lily of the valley. I hoped it would at least dull the narcoticlike effect.

  Charles’s face was covered in a slick layer of sweat, and I could see his arms shaking in the suit, which hung more loosely on his thin frame than I remembered. He took another step towards me, apparently unaware of my cat, which was hissing up a storm in my arms.

  “Charles,” I said, “don’t tell me Alexander’s roped you into this.” Oh man, Alexander was going to get an earful for this. You’d have thought we were on good enough terms now to merit a “Heads up, your evil ex-boyfriend now has a handful of my vampires at his beck and call.”

  In fact, there was no recognition in his eyes. The cruelty and smugness I associated with vampires was gone. He looked more like an empty shell of one—sunken eyes and all.

  “Charles? It’s me, Owl. We’re supposed to have a truce, remember?”

  There was no response—no “Go to hell,” “Damn your infernal cat,” or any of their other usual insults. There was something . . . off. His eyes had the same blank stare as the mercenaries’. He shuffled, a defeated zombielike walk, and his eyes were bloodshot.

  I realized I’d seen that same bloodshot look before. It had been in Marie, a vampire—one I’d known before she’d become a vampire, who had made herself highly powerful and crazy feeding off other vampires, an expansion of a vampire’s already homicidal tendencies.

  Oh man, if Rynn was making Charles feed on other vampires, that was very bad—and not just for me.

  Still no sign of Artemis . . .

  “Hey, Charles? This would be a good time to apologize for the whole Balinese oven thing.” I danced out of the way as his arm shot out, making a grab for me. “In my defense, you were trying to kill me, and we did let you go.”

  No answer. Instead, he lunged at me with preternatural speed, almost grazing me. Captain lashed out and landed a hit along his hand. Angry purple welts appeared where his claws had gouged skin.

  That gave me an idea.

  I loosened my grip on Captain’s collar as I fumbled for my UV flashlight. God, I hoped his training stuck. I’d get only one real shot . . .

  “Hey, Charles, did Alexander ever tell you guys what happened to Marie?”

  No answer; only a glimpse of canines as he readied to strike again. Despite his zombielike state, he was wary of Captain’s claws. Meaning he wasn’t looking for the flashlight.

  I switched it on and waved it over his face, then his arms and hands—anywhere I could see skin. Smoke rose, and Charles screamed as he retreated away from the burning light.

  “Guess Rynn glossed over that bit too.” Captain howled disapproval as I kept a firm grip around his ample middle and turned to bolt out of the alley.

  Four more men dressed in rumpled suits stood in the alley, blocking my way. The rotting lily of the valley mixing with the scent of Charles’s charred skin left no doubt as to what they were.

  And then there were five.

  And where the hell was Artemis?

  I tried to aim my flashlight, but the vampires were too fast. One grabbed me, while the other three grabbed Captain. Charles licked his wounds in a dark corner on the ground. I kicked the one holding me, twice, but it was like kicking a cement pylon; he didn’t budge. His lips peeled back, showing his teeth, the canines only slightly more pointed than human ones, his breath smelling like rotting meat.

  Charles got up and started towards me. I searched for something, anything, that I could use to stall or repel them.

  Around Captain’s neck the silver orb hung, the designs already set for vampires. I delivered a kick to the vampire directly behind me. The surprise of it more than any strength I exerted forced him to step back. I lunged for my cat and managed to grab hold of his collar while the vampires absorbed this new turn of events. One thing I’d noticed about Rynn’s thralls was that they were not the fastest thinkers. Before the vampire could wrangle me, I had the orb off Captain’s collar. The vampire got hold of me and pulled me back just as I rammed the last off-kilter symbol into place.

  Nothing happened.

  Shit.

  Maybe it needed blood. I nicked my finger on the edge and let the blood pool over the metallic surface.

  Still nothing.

  It should have worked. I’d added blood and lined up the configuration for vampire—I knew that almost everything with a magical design needed blood of some sort.

  Maybe I just wasn’t using the right blood. My eyes fell on the scratches that Captain had dug into Charles’s hands and wrists, which were bleeding a steady trail of vampire blood from the purple welts.

  “Charles, catch!” I tossed him the silver device.

  As soon as it touched his hand, it flared with brilliant white light.

  The vampires holding me and Captain were hit the most spectacularly. They froze, their faces a mix of shock and confusion. Then they turned paper white and crumbled into two messy piles of white ash and dirty suits. That close to the device, they hadn’t stood a chance. The other two remaining vampires besides Charles had a chance to scream; they hadn’t turned to ash like the first two but were sporting third- and fourth-degree burns on their faces and bodies. Smoke rose off them as their skin blackened, their hands and faces charring to crisp black before my eyes. Then they collapsed into unmoving piles of charred remains. The only one left was Charles, who had been holding the device. He regarded the device and the piles of dead vampires. His eyes, which had been a vapid mix of violent reds, cleared. He dropped the silver ball in shock and wiped his hands on his suit. Then he pulled them away with a click of disgust, as if just realizing the bedraggled state of his clothing.

  Now, that was very interesting. Not only did the device need vampire blood, it didn’t kill the one holding it. I’d have to let Nadya know about that one.

  The confusion written over his face was short-lived. As soon as his eyes found me, standing with one hand raised, the other arm holding the furious Captain, his expression twisted into one of hate.

  “You,” he said.

  “Me? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re the reason behind this—this—disaster!” Charles said, gesturing at the vampire corpses and piles of ash.

  “Whoa! I told you not to touch it, didn’t I?”

  He tsked and his face twisted into a more familiar vampire disdain. “The Electric Samurai only came after us because of Alexander’s cooperation with you.”

  “Oh, you got to be— Cooperation? Agreeing not to kill me wasn’t cooperation. Again, not my fault. You have your elves to blame for that one. I tried to stop them.”

  “And apparently you failed miserably, just like you do in all your endeavors.”

  Had to go for the low blow . . . I should have let Captain at him more. “Says the vampire who five minutes ago was a mindless thrall! I didn’t get the impression that Alexander switched sides this often.”

  Charles flashed his fangs at me and snarled as Captain lashed, while I turned the UV flashlight on him and tried to wrench the device away from him. Charles wouldn’t let go.

  “You can’t ward off my Mau forever. Eventually he’s going to get through.”

  “And you’ll be so indisposed from vampire pheromones you’ll barely be able to hold the infernal flashlight!”

  He was right—not as though I was going to admit it. It did mean I needed to get out of this predicament fast. I kicked at his knee hard, hoping he’d lunge and give me a chance to wrench the device free—or at the very least that it would put him off balance enough to give Captain an opening. Charles saw it coming.

  “Three wars in my lifetime, and you think a slip of a girl like you can get the upper hand?”

  That was something I forgot more often than I should have when dealing with vampires; they might look young, but enough of them were old enough to
have seen the French Revolution. He managed to catch my wrist and pull me in to him.

  He was angry. All red-eyed and vamped out, I expected him to lunge at me with his fangs, hit me, give me some show of the violence vampires were famous for. He didn’t, though. Instead he gritted his teeth and said, “Call off your cat.”

  Definitely not what I was expecting . . . “Why? So you can eat me?”

  He tsked. “No. So I can deliver a message for you to pass on to Alexander.” He was angry enough that spittle rained over my face as he spoke.

  I wrenched my hand free and wiped madly at my face.

  “Tell Alexander to stop looking for us,” he told me. “It will do no good, the possessed incubus is too powerful. Better they all stay back and survive. There is no defeating him—not for supernaturals, let alone a human. If you have half an ounce of sense, you will run and not turn back.”

  We both heard the shouts and commotion near the alley, coming closer. Time to go.

  Charles covered his wound, still visibly in pain, and stuck it into his ruined suit, and headed towards the commotion, resigned.

  I grabbed my cat, ran the other way, and didn’t slow down until I was out of that alley and through the next two. Then I doubled over to catch my breath.

  “There you are.”

  I swore and jumped at Artemis’s voice. I don’t know if it was coming down from the adrenaline high or the mix of vampire pheromones—probably both—but I was sluggish on my feet. I barely caught myself on the wall.

  “Where the hell have you been?” I demanded.

  Artemis frowned at me as he watched me gasp for breath and double over once more. “Leading Rynn and his mercenaries away. What’s your excuse?”

  “Oh, you know—” I started, but the mix of pheromones and my own exhaustion overwhelmed me. I almost collapsed. If not for Artemis’s catching me, I would have. Of all the humiliating ways to end this disaster . . .

  “Trust me, there are a hundred other women I’d rather be carrying than you or that infernal cat, but there’s nothing to be done for it. We need to leave now, regardless of the vampire pheromones coursing through you.” His voice was softer and more soothing than it usually was, though the chances were good that was the effect of the pheromones. They made vampires look and sound more appealing; why the hell not Artemis?

  “He won’t be able to do any more damage this evening,” Artemis continued.

  “You saw that vampire?”

  He nodded—or I think he did.

  “What is Rynn doing to them?”

  “In a word? Causing chaos.”

  I recognized a few of the buildings above, as well as the bridge. We weren’t on the way back to the hotel. “Where are we going?”

  “I’m getting us out of Istanbul—to the next step on the Tiger Thieves trail.” Artemis dangled something in front of my face: a dark stone pendant with gold lines running across it. “With this,” he said.

  So that’s what he had been doing. Somehow I wasn’t surprised to see the pendant dangling in front of me. Rynn had never done that well with thieves; there was no reason to think he’d do any better with spies . . .

  Who knew? This time being the bad guy had paid off. At least, that’s what ran through my head as the gold-inscribed pendants hastened me off to unconsciousness.

  “You’re going to do the incubus healing thing after I pass out, right?” I coughed as the nausea took over.

  Artemis tsked. “Sorry, not really my skill set.”

  Well, shit . . .

  14

  THE QUEEN OF SHIVA

  Day? Not sure. Time? Sun’s up. My newest lesson in being careful what you wish for . . .

  Ohhh, a hangover would have been better.

  I pushed myself up. To say I was uncomfortable would have been an understatement. Hard floor, loud noises, moving vehicle.

  I sat up. The nausea and all my bruises were still there. I was in a jeep. The top was down, and warm air—almost tropical—brushed my face.

  I was in the back of a jeep on a dirt road in a humid climate. Thick tropical forest lined both sides of the road. Continental Asia—maybe Africa—the Congo?

  Son of a— I jumped as a bug landed on the seat beside me, knocked off as the jeep hit an overgrown branch, the thin, elongated limbs looking alien.

  Stick bugs. South Asian stick bugs—southern India, to judge by the temperature, but where exactly . . .

  Captain meowed as I sat up. He was perched on the front-seat headrest, flicking his tail at me.

  “You’d jump too if you got woken up by a stick bug,” I told him, and began taking stock of myself, starting with who the hell was driving the jeep and how the hell I’d gone from Istanbul to Asia.

  “You’re awake,” Artemis said.

  “That’s up for debate,” I told him. Well, at least I knew who was driving now. “Here, try this,” he said, and tossed me a plastic grocery bag over the seat. I opened it: bottle of water, orange juice, both cold. I took the orange juice.

  The jeep lurched into a pothole just as I was chugging it.

  I winced. Ouch—everything hurt. Oh man, of all the things I did not feel like fucking dealing with right now . . . I held the orange juice bottle to my forehead, absorbing what relief I could.

  I didn’t even have the booze to justify the hangover. “God, I hate vampires.”

  “Be thankful the vampire was there. Otherwise it’s very possible my cousin would have caught up to you and killed you.”

  “You want to trade headaches? Be my guest.” I winced at the sound of my voice echoing around my head. There was no way my brain was running on all pistons. “Where the hell are we?”

  “Finish your breakfast,” he said, and nodded ahead at the dirt road. “All in due time.”

  Yeah, like I was going to sit back and enjoy the ride through the mystery South Asian jungle. I pushed myself up and crawled about as gracefully into the front seat as a large walrus would, my head protesting the whole way. Artemis had a GPS device on the dashboard. I grabbed it before he could stop me, earning me an annoyed look.

  “You ever wonder why my cousin is so effective with supernaturals? He’s patient. He waits until his prey panics, then flushes them out.” He grabbed the GPS device from me and put it back onto the dashboard. “Which is exactly what he’s trying to do: flush us out, see where we run to, then chase us down. It’s an old tactic of his; at least my cousin’s unoriginality can be depended on. Falls right back into his old patterns, despite the armor.”

  “I’m not panicking. I want to know where the hell I’ve woken up.”

  “We’re headed for the next stop on the map,” Artemis offered.

  I rolled that around my vampire-addled head. “Ah, when—”

  “I found the point on the map while you were sleeping. It wasn’t hard. I took the map da Vinci had started in his journal and used the amulet. All I needed was my own blood after all.”

  I spotted the journal on the front seat and snatched it up, flipping to the map. Sure enough, the map had been extended on the page. This time the gold lines crossed over ruffled terrain, which became shallower and flanked by dense dashes reminiscent of foliage the closer it reached the end of the page, ending in a gold X.

  “An ocean, followed by a river and jungle,” Artemis said as I ran my fingers over the lines.

  It was a substantial ocean if the map was any indication. Where would I have been going to find a river and jungle in the ancient world?

  “The Tiger Thieves are in Muziris,” I said to Artemis. “We’re in India.”

  He inclined his head, not taking his eyes off the dirt road. “Give the girl a prize. She knows her ancient trading ports.”

  Or in this case, ancient lost cities. Muziris was one of the lost cities of the ancient Silk Road. Located somewhere along the Malabar Coast in southwestern India, for more than a thousand years it had been a major trading port between southern India and Persia, Greece, Egypt, and Rome. Unfortunately, its exact l
ocation was unknown. Many historians assumed it was hidden somewhere in the jungle along the Periyar River on account of the hoards of ancient coins that littered the coast and the river’s shores—ancient trade stashes. But a massive flood had destroyed the area in the 1300s, wiping the entire port city off the map. It must have been one hell of a shock to the traders coming from Europe to off-load their goods. One year, there would have been a metropolis on the banks of the river. A few years later? Gone, only the mud banks remaining.

  People had been searching for the ancient city for a few hundred years. My best guess was that the original was buried under mud—unless the Tiger Thieves had dug it up or moved it.

  An ancient lost city and the Tiger Thieves—somehow I wasn’t surprised that the two went hand in hand. I took stock of our surroundings. The jungle on either side was thick, and there were no cities to be seen in the distance. If the Tiger Thieves were out here, they were well hidden.

  “How long until we reach it?” I asked. “Muziris?”

  “Not long,” Artemis replied. There was a pause as the jeep rumbled along, the jungle encroaching on the road more and more the farther we went. “So. It worked,” Artemis finally said after we’d rounded the bend and gotten our first view—or my first view, anyway—of the river.

  I felt the hairs along the back of my neck bristle. “In a sense.” Not exactly the way da Vinci had hinted at or described, though. Maybe he’d already gone mad by the time he made the damn thing.

  Artemis snorted. “I’m sorry to see that it did.”

  I frowned and cleared another stick bug off the jeep. “Sorry I wasn’t eaten by a pack of ravenous mad vampires.”

  “I meant for Rynn.”

  Shit. I tapped down my jacket pocket.

  “Oh, it’s still there. I haven’t stolen anything from you. I meant that powerful magical items like that carry more costs than they are worth. The benefits never outweigh the price. I thought the Electric Samurai would have taught you that.”

  There was too much bitterness in his voice for him to be talking about anything except firsthand experience. An unwelcome image of the dead Gorgon lying on the boardwalk pushed its way into the forefront of my thoughts.