by Ruby Loren
“How much is that going to be?” Ryan had asked her. January had done her best to give him the range of fees they might be able to expect, but she’d done so with a sinking heart. Ryan and Bella were tough, but even the best bounty hunters died in the end.
Even she had died.
Her heart had sunk even further when she’d read that they were being relocated to somewhere in the US. Just as Simon’s stick has proclaimed, their exact location was going to be divulged at a later date. January was willing to bet they wouldn’t be allowed to share the details.
Never again would the group of people, who’d saved her life and had been on her side, come together to face their adversary. They were being scattered to the winds. She’d lost her greatest shifter allies.
“I think it’s my turn,” Gregory had said, shoving in his USB. “It said envoy…”
They’d all looked at the screen.
“Looks like I’m the lucky one! Schmoozing with whoever The Clan deigns to meet with. It’s more fun than running a pub,” he’d said, smiling all round.
January had rolled her eyes before ripping out his stick and replacing it with hers. “I’m back to doing the same old…” she’d started to say, but the words had dried up when she’d seen what was written on the screen.
“What!” she’d hissed, while Gregory had started to laugh.
“They put us together? We're the biggest threat to them, and they put us together. No offence to the rest of you,” he’d said.
Ryan had shot January a look, reiterating his feelings about Gregory. Simon hadn’t even heard. He’d been too busy searching her cupboards for a pick-me-up can of tuna.
“I suppose they’re keeping their greatest enemies closest to them,” Gregory had remarked, still scanning the page.
“Or perhaps they know it will drive one of us insane,” she’d replied, regarding the brief in horror.
She hadn’t believed that the role of bounty hunter could be made any worse, but now she wasn’t even allowed to vent her frustration by killing people. What use was a symbolic bounty hunter?
“I guess we’ll all see each other again on the other side,” Gregory had said, returning the mood in the room to solemn.
Leah had already been taken, gone with Max and Cadence, but it had still been terrible to sit together one last time, knowing that everything was about to change.
January finished her coffee with another sigh.
Were The Clan petty enough to have devised a job they knew would ruin her bakery business? She assumed they probably had bigger things to worry about, but that didn’t stop the reality: her business was in trouble, and she needed to sort it out.
So far, she’d only had two engagements with Gregory, but both of them had resulted in chaos. What had been described as an evening event in Madrid had turned into an all night fiesta, which January hadn’t returned from until the next day. It was all right for Gregory, he’d been shipped back during the daytime and was never missed by the world of the living.
She’d missed a day at the bakery, and the bakery never shut.
The second time, it had been a weekend away on a yacht. At least, that’s what had been written on the itinerary. She’d closed the shop for the weekend, thinking that would be fine. Three days later, she was still drifting on a leaky boat in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. If it hadn’t been for her turning her magic to calm the storm and keep the boat afloat, they’d probably all have washed up on some distant shore. January knew that theoretically, she couldn’t die, but the prospect of drowning over and over again had not been an inviting one.
When she’d returned to Hailfield and travelled across to the bakery in Hobbling, she’d almost wished she was back, facing the storm. Gale force winds were nothing compared to the anger of regular customers who had missed their cake. Her friend, Charlie Rose - the owner of Madame Rose’s Tearooms - hadn’t been thrilled, either.
That was why it could never happen again.
She picked up her mobile and dialled Danny’s number. She had hired shifters from her pack to work at the bakery, but there was no one else in the area who could bake like Danny could. If he’d toned down his outlandish flavour ideas in the Hobbling Cake Off competition, January thought he may even have managed to topple Simon’s stolen chocolate cake.
She pursed her lips, thinking back to what an unmitigated disaster that competition had been. At least the covens of witches she’d upset during the competition were no longer out to get her. One coven had helpfully been wiped out by the gang of wolves, who’d been trying to kill January at the time. For once, she’d been glad she had so many enemies.
“Danny, I was wondering if I could interest you in a business proposition,” she said, once they’d got the ‘how are yous’ out of the way. (She’d lied and said she was fine.)
“That sounds really interesting. You’re going to run it past Charlie, aren’t you?” Danny said, when she’d finished telling him her plan.
“Of course! I’m hoping it will benefit her. The only thing you’d need to do differently would be to bake the bakery’s cakes the night before, and then do the extra baking for Madame Rose’s at the tearooms. I think it could work! I’ll just give you the recipes, and I know you’ll do brilliantly,” she said.
Danny hesitated. It was a hesitation January didn’t much like, because she knew what was coming next.
“Can Lucy help me out? I’ll make sure she doesn’t try to sabotage your business,” he promised.
January tried not to sigh too audibly. The necessity of Danny’s promise was exactly the reason why she hadn’t called Lucy to offer her the job. Unfortunately, Lucy and Danny came as a pair these days.
“Only if you can guarantee you’ll keep an eye on her,” January said, lacking Danny’s humour.
“Lighten up! She’s fine with you, now you’re not working here. It was always a competition between you, don’t you see?”
January didn't see. The only side of Lucy she’d seen was an unpleasant one, and they hadn’t become any closer when January had informed the judges at the cake baking competition that Lucy’s biscuits were poisoned.
“Okay, I’m happy for us to give it a shot. How about we talk money?” January said and then offered him a sum that she knew was a far cry from the wage he got, working at the tearooms.
Danny didn’t speak for a couple of seconds. “Really? Are you sure?” he said, after a while.
January smiled. “Yes! I’m paying you to represent my business, and I'm also paying you for the last-minute inconvenience of having to drop everything to bake cakes.”
“Well… okay then!” Danny said, sounding unguardedly delighted.
While they hashed out the details, (as much as they could, without January knowing when she’d next be ‘away’) she reflected that as much as her own life had been changed by The Clan, Danny and Lucy’s lives were also about to change. Her bakery was lucrative, and she’d just offered them a lump sum every time that was the equivalent of a good day’s profit at the bakery. It was a lot of money! She only hoped it wouldn’t have a negative knock-on effect for her friend - and their employer - Charlie Rose, but she was sure that they would work it out. They always did.
After finishing the phone call, she went and sat down on the sofa in the silent house. Normally, she’d be at the bakery, still making cakes, but she’d made the batch for the tearooms and for the bakery the night before, in preparation for the funeral today. Now it was over, and January was left alone with her thoughts for longer than she was entirely comfortable with.
She wondered what had happened to Leah.
They’d never had a chance to find out what kind of job she had been given. Thinking back, January wasn’t even certain the vampire-witch had been given one of the USB sticks. When Max and Cadence had left without a word, she’d got up and followed, as if pulled by a string.
January hadn’t heard from her since.
She knew Leah had disobeyed The Clan by switching over to h
er side after originally being tasked with killing January. She would have liked to think it was because of her winning personality and charm, but really, Leah had been curious enough about the magical marvel she was billed to be to keep her alive a little longer. She was probably paying for that betrayal right now.
In spite of that, January didn’t think she was dead. Leah was the first vampire they’d made after the witches had turned themselves into the first vampires. She and The Clan were the only vampires who still possessed magic and could walk in the sunlight.
As crazy as it sounded, January missed Leah. They’d been in the same covers band and had then shared a taste of fame, before January had been shot on stage by a terrorist. She’d never actually asked what had happened to the person responsible for shooting her, but she knew Leah better than to assume the shooter had got away.
With the exception of Leah, she’d heard from the others. Ryan and Bella were settled in their new home… somewhere in America. January had already got the impression that Bella was enjoying the new occupation far more than Ryan was. They’d been able to give enough hints that January assumed they were doing what she had done - halting vampires who got too old, and too powerful. The Clan wanted to remain unchallenged, and so far, they’d succeeded.
January had been glad to hear that Ryan and Bella were coping well with their new life, but she still felt sorry that they were gone. Ryan was responsible for pushing her into accepting the leadership of the Witchwood Forest pack of shifters, and he’d been a strong second.
Now he was gone, and so was the newest pack leader of the Witchwood wolves.
All bets were off when it came to what the wolf pack were going to do, now that Joe Milan had mysteriously vanished off the face of the earth. January couldn’t wait to hear the whispers saying she’d killed him. “I wish I had,” she muttered. Despite Joe’s treachery, and the way he’d hurt her, he wasn’t actually very high up on her list of people to kill. After all, what harm could a werewolf in the employ of The Clan possibly do to her? They worked for the same people, now.
The Wild Woods Bar was another tragedy of the new circumstances. Ryan and Bella had turned it over to the rest of the pack when they’d left, but it lacked the driving force it needed to succeed. With a cake baking business to run, January couldn't spare any time to help with the bar, but she knew she had to find someone to take it on, or it would be too late. It would be heartbreaking if the shifters who’d worked so hard, making the bar successful again, became unemployed.
Simon had been in touch, too. He’d been distraught over the death of his father and, admittedly, even more distraught over the job he’d been saddled with. She’d texted him to ask how it was all going. He’d replied via an email, scrawled rather than typed, in magical writing. The reason for the strange format had become apparent when Simon had explained they weren’t permitted any electronic devices whilst at the ‘work camp’. Being Simon, he’d already found a way around it, as the email proved.
January often wondered what Simon might achieve if he ever put his mind to doing something properly, instead of cheating the system.
The email had informed her that he hated his new job, but the ’slave masters’ permitted him time off at the weekends, so he was free to come back home, then. He’d asked January if she’d be willing to help him go through Tor’s house and sort out the magical regalia that had been left behind. She’d agreed, and they’d set a hopeful date - work permitting for January.
She’d inquired after the rabbit and had been told it was fine. January had raised an eyebrow at that.
Jinx was a rather strange rabbit, who had lived with Tor. Tor had left the rabbit to Simon in his will.
He hadn’t exactly been delighted with his bequest.
Not trusting Simon to be responsible, January had swung by Tor’s house and peered through the window to see if the black rabbit was anywhere to be seen.
It had been.
She’d looked up at the first floor windows and had seen the small black bunny, staring down at her. “So creepy,” she’d muttered. At least looking through the front windows had allowed her to see that there were freshly filled food and water bowls. There were quite a few spells hovering around in Simon’s trademark blue colour that let her know he’d automated his care for Jinx. She’d decided to leave the bunny, and Simon’s spells, to it, but it hadn’t stopped the feeling of unease, growing in her stomach.
Tor had never told her much about his rabbit. All she knew was that he’d got it from a pet shop and had run a few experiments. By the look of embarrassment on his face when he’d said it, she’d assumed whatever he’d intended hadn’t gone to plan.
She’d bitten her lip before walking away from the house, wishing she’d thought to quiz Tor a little more deeply on the topic of Jinx.
The rabbit had stared after her all the way down the street.
January stood up from the sofa, deciding that wallowing in her memories wasn’t helping anything. She wasn’t working today, and she should take advantage of that. Making herself a cake for once, and playing on her bass guitar, before watching a season or two of Buffy The Vampire Slayer sounded like the perfect way to spend the rest of the day.
She turned on the TV and cued the first episode, already smiling at the vampires, with their easily-foiled plots. It was weird, but she loved Buffy’s world. When she’d first started slaying vampires herself, it was Buffy who had inspired some of the terrible one-line jokes she’d occasionally used. These days, her sense of humour wasn’t what it had been.
“I fancy a cake with as much alcohol in it as possible,” she said aloud, walking across the open plan room to the kitchen. Her go-to would be a gin and lemon drizzle cake, but unfortunately, all she had was some Baileys. After a moment or two’s consideration, she settled on a caramel Baileys pound cake. Alcohol and sugar were two things she needed right now.
Once she’d finished the cake mix, and had put it in the oven, she settled down in front of the TV and played bass along with the Buffy theme tune. Today wasn't turning out to be so bad after all.
That was when the phone rang.
She looked at the number and couldn’t suppress a sigh before picking up.
It was a private number.
She knew exactly who was calling.
“You’re meeting with Edward and Melissa DeGaul tonight in Vienna. It is a formal occasion,” Max said, and then promptly hung up.
January rolled her eyes. They’d met face to face, but apparently that didn’t warrant any common courtesy over the telephone.
She reluctantly turned off the TV and went to look through her hastily purchased wardrobe of evening gowns.
Her hand fell on the dress that Gregory had bought for her when she’d been forced to go to his birthday party. She reflected that vampires seemed to delight in manipulating her into attending functions, but at least if she wore this dress, she might make them regret inviting her.
She slid into the satin gown, with its low-cut back. She met her own gaze in the mirror and permitted herself a smile. They wouldn’t be forgetting her in a hurry.
The smile slipped from her face when she realised that she needed to enlist Danny’s help with the bakery far sooner than she’d originally intended. If she wanted to avoid riots tomorrow morning when there was no more cake, she needed to get her best recipes sent across to him right now and pray that she’d offered him enough money to ensure he had free time available.
January took the dress off again and threw on her lounging around clothes, knowing she didn’t have much time to get everything organised. There would be a knock at the door from the chauffeur, and then she’d be getting on a plane to go to a mysterious location to meet with people she didn't care about.
All at the behest of a secretive group of ancient vampires, she still knew next to nothing about.
A line creased across her forehead. She couldn’t live like this forever - if she really did have forever to live. Something needed to be done
about The Clan and she was the only one in any position to do it.
All she needed to do, was find out a few of their most closely-guarded secrets, and she’d have them!
Secrets that they’d been hiding since their creation.
It should be a piece of cake.
3
The night in Vienna turned into a three day show of wealth and pomp. The Clan hadn’t survived for such a long time by revealing their existence, so on the face of it, January and Gregory were the pair to impress. All their hosts ever seemed to know was that the people they were playing host to had the power to change a lot of things. That meant the red carpet was rolled out in a big way.
Not every host knew of the existence of the supernatural, but most did. The ones in the know had heard of the black unicorn and fawned over her all the more because of it. They knew that the mysterious group who’d sent an envoy had also sent their hound. One betrayal, and she’d be the one tasked with killing them - the cream of the crop. So far, no one had stepped out of line.
Gregory had submitted his reports after every meeting, and no requests for actual bounty hunting had been sent to January. She was rather disappointed. Not being used to such grand surroundings, and even grander manners, January had already met a few people she wouldn’t have lost sleep over, had their names ended up on a kill list. But so far, her role had remained symbolic. She was merely a pawn being pushed around by The Clan.
January reflected that she’d come home just in time. Tonight was the full moon meet, and unfortunately, being sleep-deprived in the extreme didn’t warrant missing it. She wasn’t entirely sure if there’d be a pack to lead when the full moon rose, but it was her duty to be there, regardless. With the wolves doing who-knows-what, and her pack second permanently absent, January was not expecting it to be a fun-filled night.
