Sticks & Stones: (Urban Fantasy) (Daughters of Hecate Book 2)

by Merdith Medina

  The rose Eli had left me the night before was sitting in an empty milk bottle I’d left on the apple box that served as my makeshift patio table.

  I touched the petals briefly, wishing that I had the power to see what it had seen in that garden. The petal glowed briefly under my fingertips and I released it, my eye on the fading color as it absorbed the magic I’d left behind.

  Humans had fingerprints, but we Daughters left a different kind of mark. A hint of magic on everything we touched. It faded quickly, evaporating or being absorbed by the object or animal we’d touched. It was as though life, even the air around me was hungry for magic.

  It used to terrify me, and when I was younger, I had worn gloves everywhere, which was fine for the time period, no one had asked any questions. But as I’d grown older and the centuries had ticked by I realized that the world wasn’t a very magical place; and I couldn’t be afraid of sharing the goddess’ touch, even in a small way.

  “Hey.”

  Eli.

  His voice had startled me, even though I tried to pretend it hadn’t. “Where the fuck have you been?”

  Good job. Casual. I was the worst at this.

  “Busy. Bishop’s been riding us pretty hard about the new album. I’m still not sure if I want to do it yet.”

  I made a face. “Busy? That’s convenient. If I asked Bishop about it, what would he say you guys have been doing?”

  Eli was the shittiest liar, and his shoulders slumped immediately. He leaned against the fire escape stairs. Suki jumped down from her place next to me on the window ledge and wound herself around his legs, purring loudly.

  “You’re a dirty traitor,” I said to her.

  Eli reached down and picked up my cat, holding her gently and rubbing her ears just the way she liked.

  “You can talk to Bishop if you want, but I’ve been out doing... other stuff.” He looked a little guilty, and I wondered what ‘other stuff’ meant.

  I got up from my seat on the window ledge and flicked it closed with a small gesture. I leaned over the fire escape railing and looked down at the street below. The streets were starting to thin out as people made their way home after a long day downtown. A group of young men lounged against a building across the street. They were trying to be inconspicuous, but as with many supernatural beings, they failed a little obviously at being human.

  Blood Outlaws.

  “What are you doing hanging out with those deadheads? They’re not your type,” I said casually. Eli scrubbed his thumb under Suki’s chin one more time before she started to squirm and whine to be put down. She was my familiar after all. He set her down gently and she jumped up on the window ledge, her wide eyes fixed on me.

  “I thought I’d give them a chance, they’ve been really keen to recruit me,” he said, and he sounded more than a little defensive. Still so human.

  “Of course they’re keen, Eli! You’re a newbie, a freshie. The clan hasn’t had time to get you used to following the rules,” I said, not willing to back down on my attitude. This would be tough for him to hear, but I was the only one who would be able to say it. “You should stick with Bishop or you’re going to end up staked out on the tarmac at JFK waiting for your last sunrise.”

  Everyone connected with the Laudan knew that story. It had been Bishop’s conversation opener on my first night at Spiral. That exact scenario had been played out in excruciating detail, starring the last leader of those idiot Blood Outlaws, but no one liked to talk about it... except Bishop. He talked about it as much as possible just to fuck with the group’s new leader, Oren.

  I didn’t like Oren, or any of the Blood Outlaws. Not at fucking all.

  “They’re taking me hunting, new neighborhoods. New blood.” Eli didn’t even seem phased by his comments. And to make matters worse, it sounded like he’d been rehearsing these exact lines.

  I scooped Suki up off the window ledge and flipped the window open with a small gesture. I pushed Suki inside and slammed the window shut with another flip of my finger. The locks snapped into place and I stepped forward, placing my hand on Eli’s chest. I knew that he could feel my power swirling just below the surface of my skin.

  I hoped that he could feel my anger and disgust. I’d held out a hope for the last ten years or so that I’d be able to help wean my undead boyfriend off the hunt for living blood... but that obviously wasn’t going to happen now. He’d had a taste for it. That explained why he’d started acting like such a creep. It even explained the flashback incident in the park the other night.

  I know that I’d been irrationally mad at him, but then again... it didn’t seem so irrational now.

  “So, what now? Have you been promised buckets of ‘Groupie blood’ to help you on the road to stardom? Is that Bishop talking?” I leaned back and then pushed forward quickly and spat over the railing. I smiled as someone below swore loudly, the echo bouncing off the buildings. “Or those Blood Idiots?”

  I could admit it. I was mad... but mostly with myself. I was finding it way harder than I’d anticipated to not harbor a little jealousy for little punk girls that comprised Mutually Assured Destruction’s fan base. The punk scene wasn’t really my bag, I’d met Eli by accident... a drive-by fanging if you want to get specific. He’d just bitten off more than he could chew when he met me.

  “Oren said you’d be like this. He said you’d be upset,” Eli was pouting like a child and I was beginning to really doubt my attachment to this Laudan.

  “Oh, really? Oren knows how I feel, does he?”

  Shit. I was mad. This had hit a nerve; one I didn’t think I had anymore. I stood back from the railing and leaned against the window, trying to forget about the fact that every single nerve in my body was tingling with magic and ready to explode. I knew that it didn’t care what was in the way of my anger, but I did. That goddamn Japanese maple was between Eli and me. I’d taken really good care of that thing.

  I sighed heavily.

  “So, what happens now?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  I groaned audibly. Of course he was playing dumb. “Fucking hell,” I muttered. “You know exactly what I mean.”

  Laudan could read human minds, and I knew that even if Eli couldn’t read all of my thoughts, he could sense what was going on inside my head. He wasn’t stupid either.

  Eli nodded, “I know what you’re thinking, but I’m not going anywhere. Oren says that we need to weather the coming storm...”

  “Coming storm?” I snorted. “If you’re already speaking in Biblical terms, I’m not sure you’re really listening to what I’m thinking at all. I think you’re being an idiot. Bishop will tell you the same thing.” I gestured quickly, and the window slid up. I could hear Suki meowing in the kitchen. “There’s a reason why he’s been in charge of all of you idiots for so long.”

  “Idiots? Do you really think so little of us? We are Laudan.” In the blink of an eye, Eli was pressed against me, pushing me back against the railing of the narrow fire escape. The whole structure shuddered, and I felt panic start to seep into my body.

  Stay calm. Don’t set him off. You’re not immortal.

  “I’m just saying... you don’t have to go with them. They prey on street people, Eli... not just those cute groupies that hang around your mosh pit... junkies, vagrants... do you really want that shit in your body?”

  I was being cruel, but I was also trying to be honest. I didn’t know what drugged blood would do to a Laudan. But from the look in his eyes, I knew he was nervous to hear these things listed aloud.

  Eternal life was a sensitive thing. What use was living if your body was dying?

  “You’re not seeing the bigger picture,” Eli hissed in my ear.

  “Bigger picture? From over here it looks like you and your ‘Outlaw Daycare’ friends want to go cause some unrestricted mayhem. Are you trying to start a war?”

  Eli pulled back and looked at me strangely.

  “Maybe we are,” he said simply. Eli’s ex
pression softened and then he disappeared over the railing.

  I was frozen in place, listening to the Blood Outlaws as they whooped and smashed things, transformed and screeched, and ran in the direction of Prospect Park.

  I ducked through the open window and into my apartment, slamming the window shut with a brief gesture.

  My boyfriend had joined a rogue vampire group.

  I’d been attacked by witch hunters in front of the door of my own home.

  I was supposed to go to a Halloween party in ten days...

  Everything was shit.

  14

  Everything was going to shit, and I was tired of sitting around waiting for things to happen. If Eli was going to be out with the Blood Idiots all night, that would give me a chance to talk to Bishop. He didn’t trust the Laudan delinquents any more than I did, and he’d probably be pissed that they were distracting Eli from his band commitments. If Mutually Assured Destruction was about to go into the studio again, he wouldn’t want anything to fuck with that, and I had a feeling that those douchebags would do exactly that.

  I had to talk to him. The question was, would he want to talk to me?

  The wound in my side would have to be re-bound, walking into a Laudan den while bleeding wasn’t the smartest idea, but I had to go. If this Blood Outlaw situation wasn’t nipped in the bud, it would get out of hand fast.

  I worked quickly to refresh the poultice on my ribs before binding it tightly with a length of black fabric. The more layers between my blood and them, the better.

  The path I took to the subway was different than my usual route, but I figured I should be a little more cautious. I’d developed habits that could get me injured, or worse, burnt.

  The train rattled toward the city, and I checked my glamour in the windows. Red hair, black jacket… fine, but the reflection of my face was blurred – as though someone had smeared Vaseline over the window. Perfect.

  The last few days had shaken a bit of my self-confidence, but now that I was out of the apartment and back on the streets I loved so much, it began to come back.

  A light rain began to fall as I exited the subway, and I picked up my pace. Spiral’s red neon sign flickered and hummed and I could hear the faint sizzle of the drops hitting the hot tubes of light.

  It was early, but the line of leather-clad punks waiting to get in already snaked down the street. Church stood with his arms folded over his chest, bathed in the red light. It gave his already imposing figure a more sinister cast, turning him into a scarlet gargoyle looming overhead.

  “Hey,” I greeted the big Laudan casually, trying to squish down my nervousness. “Is Bishop in tonight?”

  Church regarded me thoughtfully, his eyebrow raised behind his dark glasses. Eli wasn’t playing tonight; I didn’t really have a reason to be here. Instant suspicion. Seconds ticked by, and I started to fidget.

  “You owe me some drink tickets,” he said. His fangs glinted and I swallowed hard and then shrugged nonchalantly.

  “I didn’t think you’d notice. Besides, I only used one.”

  Church smirked and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “Bishop’s here,” he said gruffly. “But if he has time to talk to you I’ll be really fucking surprised.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied pleasantly. “No drink tickets this time.” He unclipped the rope to let me pass and I flashed him the fakest smile I could manage.

  Descending these stairs was always a lesson in patience. I’d seen more than a few people, eager to get to the bar or the dancefloor slip, trip and tumble on that deathtrap. At least one person had been taken to the hospital with serious injuries. One hand on the rail. Eyes on the stairs. The last thing I needed was another injury. I was nervous enough about being wounded in this place.

  A bartender I didn’t recognize was working the taps, a busty young thing with bright green hair and a safety pin in her nose. Punk Stereotype #46, at your service. She turned her moonshined eyes toward me and smiled.

  “Can I get you a drink, spice?”

  I wrinkled my nose, “Spice? That’s a new one.” I fucking hate nicknames.

  The Laudan shrugged, “Well, you don’t look like one of the ‘everything nice’ types.” She looked at me carefully, more than a hint of flirtation in the curl of her lip, “Am I wrong? I’m not usually wrong.”

  Oh, boy.

  “Look, I’m not here to play around. I’m here to see Bishop.”

  The vampire’s eyes narrowed and she set down the glass she was holding. “Bishop’s not here. You’ll have to come back later.”

  “Cut the shit. Church told me he’s here, so you call him, and you tell him that I’m waiting. It’s about Eli.” I was getting really tired of this crap.

  “Hitea,” she murmured. “So, it is true. I didn’t think…”

  “It’s none of your fucking business. Call Bishop and get me a beer.”

  With her silvered eyes holding mine, she picked up the phone and held it up to her ear. She said a few words into the receiver. Quietly, so I couldn’t hear, and then hung up. Without breaking eye contact with me, she reached under the bar and pulled out a beer, snapping off the cap on the edge of the bar with a practiced motion.

  “Go sit over there,” she jerked her head, indicating a booth at the side of the dancefloor. “Bishop will send someone for you,” she finished flatly, setting down the bottle with a defiant thunk.

  “Cheers, big ears,” I said, taking a swig. She glowered at me and I smirked.

  I win.

  The velvet-upholstered booth was dark and inviting, but I didn’t want to get comfortable. Spiral was the last place I felt like I could relax. The surly bartender might be gone, but if I was right (and I was usually right about this shit) and he’d been the one who had locked me in the coldroom and called in the Malleus… I’d have to keep my eyes open. Cowards like that rarely acted alone. It also didn’t help that I was here gunning for the Blood Outlaws. That definitely wasn’t going to earn me any friends, which was just fine by me; I didn’t have time for pen pals.

  Speaking of that motley band of douchebags, there were none to be seen tonight. They usually lurked around the edges of the dancefloor, or lounged in booths watching the writhing mass of humans hungrily. Tonight, however, the only Laudan were carefully placed, and all wearing the same dark sunglasses.

  Odd.

  There was no band playing tonight, with their star act preparing to go into the studio, Bishop had expanded his repertoire and turned to DJ’s brought in from overseas to appease the crowd. The punk aesthetic stayed firmly in place, but instead of new music blasting out of the speakers, the crowd writhed and crashed against each other to familiar genre mainstays. It wasn’t my thing, but even I could appreciate a little Sex Pistols every now and again.

  I don’t know how long I sat at that table, but I was focused on picking at the edge of the formica table, or rolling my empty beer bottle back and forth between my hands.

  I looked up as someone slid into the booth across from me.

  “Bishop,” I said. “Thanks for not keeping me waiting.”

  The Laudan smiled, showing his fangs. “You’re a sharp one, Ophelia. That’s why I like you.”

  “You don’t like me, Bishop.”

  “That’s not true,” he looked hurt by my comment. “If I didn’t like you, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now, and Church wouldn’t have let you through the door. I tolerated your presence when we first signed Eli, but I’ve grown fond of your sharp tongue and caustic temperament.” Bishop was a confident figure, broad shouldered and lean fingered. He was a businessman, and he liked strength. Lucky me.

  “Why are you here, Ophelia,” he asked, lacing his fingers together on the table in front of him. His silvered eyes held mine firmly and I shifted a little in my seat. The music pumped and throbbed around us, and I tried to organize my thoughts.

  “Where the Blood Outlaws tonight?” I asked. It see
med like the best way to start. Bishop hadn’t been expecting that approach. His gaze scanned the dancefloor quickly and then slid back to mine.

  “Out, I suppose. They’re Oren’s problem, not mine.”

  Figures.

  “I hate to break it to you, Bishop, but they’re about to be your problem too.” I picked at my nails, a bad habit I hadn’t been able to break in 330 years. He waited for me to continue, knowing full well that I was stalling. “Eli’s better than this. He doesn’t know what he’s doing. You should have told him what would happen when he signed that contract.”

  Bishop sighed and spread his hands. The flashing lights from the DJ booth made the dark stones in his cufflinks glimmer darkly. “So, this is about Eli.”

  “Look, if it was just about Eli, I wouldn’t be here. He’s a big boy, and he can make his own decisions, but you’re his manager, aren’t you supposed to manage him?” I sat back against the velvet upholstery and tapped the table with my nails. “The cops paid me a visit a little while ago. They had Eli’s photo. Do you know anything about that?”

  Bishop shifted a little in his seat, “Yes. I knew about that. We’ve spoken with Oren—“

  “Obviously that’s not enough.”

  “Look, Ophelia, your concern is... touching... but it’s really none of your business. The Blood Outlaws are a necessary evil. We like to think of Spiral as a place for all the freaks to feel included.” He gestured to the dance floor with a paternal smile on his face. “It’s why you’re welcome here too, hitea.” His smile faded and I tried not to flinch at the use of the word.

  “Save it, Bishop. If these kids knew what you are, I don’t think they’d be so keen to line up for hours to spend their money on your overpriced beer.” I nudged the empty beer bottle with my thumb. “This was almost ten bucks. Why do you think I steal drink tickets from Church’s pocket every time I come here?”

  Bishop shrugged, “Costs of doing business, Ophelia, you understand.”