by Shéa MacLeod
I cleared a rise in the trail and paused. He was near. I could feel it.
He flew out from the shadows. His body weight sent me crashing to the ground, and my dao went flying. My robe was going to be totally ruined, dammit. And it was brand new.
I snarled and grabbed the vamp around the throat. I let the Darkness curl up my arm so that with one thrust, I sent him flying.
My fingers scrabbled along the ground, finally touching the hilt of my sword. I snatched it up just in time as the vampire made another rush at me.
This time I was ready. I lashed out with the dao even as I rolled to the side. He missed me, crashing to the ground instead. Unfortunately, I only nicked him. I could smell the old copper tang of his blood, but it wasn’t anything that would keep him down.
I jumped to my feet and ran at him, but he somehow managed to grab one of my boots and yank my feet out from under me. I slammed to the ground, the air rushing from my lungs, my vision going dark around the edges.
In one pounce, he was on me. His legs straddled my waist. He grabbed my chin in his right hand and yanked my head to the side, baring my throat. That pale column of smooth skin over throbbing vein, it was like crack to a vamp. And I couldn’t stop him.
A sudden roaring filled my ears and a pale, silvery column of smoke billowed out of the center of my chest. It wrapped itself around the vampire like a snake. He froze, eyes wide. “What the hell?”
The smoke lifted the vamp up and off me, almost like it was a third arm. A very strong arm. Only I wasn’t controlling it. My brand new Air ability was playing all on its own. All around me dead leaves and bits of twigs and old candy wrappers whirled around as though caught in a mini tornado.
“Put me down,” the vampire screeched, thrashing against the hold of the Air pouring out of my chest. To no avail. The Air didn’t budge. The vamp’s eyes were wide with terror.
I scrambled to my feet, heart beating like a wild thing in my chest. The whole situation was totally freaky, but I tried to play it cool. “Why were you at my house?”
“Put me down,” he begged. “Put me down and I’ll tell you.”
I raised my eyebrows at that. “Do I look stupid? Tell me why you were at my house.”
“Will you put me down if I tell you?”
A very unpleasant smile flitted across my face. “Oh, yes,” I purred. “Of course I will.”
“Promise me.”
I stepped closer, caressed his cheek with one finger. “I promise.”
“Okay. There’s a contract out on you.”
“A contract?” Someone wanted me dead? Huh. Wouldn’t be the first time.
“Yeah, yeah. Ten thousand dollars.”
“Is that all?” In a weird way, that pissed me off.
“Hey, that’s a lot of money in this economy.”
Good gods, what was the world coming to that vampire assassins worried about the economy? “All right then, do you know why someone issued the contract?”
He shook his head vehemently. “No idea.”
“Now for the million dollar question: Who issued the hit?”
“I don’t know. Really I don’t. I just found it posted in a chat room.”
“A chat room? Seriously?”
He shrugged.
“Give me the address.”
He babbled off the website address which I committed to memory. Or hoped I did.
“You promised you’d let me down.”
I sighed. “Oh, yes. Of course.”
Slowly the tendrils of smoke lowered him to the ground, though the Air still swirled around him. With a single thrust, my dao sliced through skin and muscle and bone until it pierced the heart.
His eyes widened, dark blood spilling from his lips. “You promised,” his voice was a whisper.
“And I kept my promise,” I whispered back. “But I never promised not to kill you afterward.”
With a final twist meant to destroy the heart, I pulled the saber back out. The vamp’s body crumpled to the ground and then burst into dust.
The Air did one last swirl around me, scattering the ash to the winds. I smiled a little. So, someone wanted me dead and was willing to pay for it. That would be the last stupid move they’d ever make.
Darkness lurked in my eyes as I started down the hill.
Chapter Nine
I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised to find Jack on my doorstep when I got home, but I was. I also shouldn’t have been surprised to feel a stab of longing mixed with regret as my eyes scanned the physique that would put Michelangelo’s David to shame. I brushed those feelings aside. That was a dark path I was not about to go down.
“It’s late, Jack.” I didn’t really have to ask why he was standing on my doorstep in the middle of the night. He was the Guardian, after all. My Guardian.
“You didn’t answer your phone.” His voice was grim and just a little angry. I could sense he was trying to keep his temper in check.
“Let me guess,” I said, letting myself in through the kitchen door I hadn’t taken the time to lock. I didn’t bother turning on the overhead light. “You were calling to warn me of impending danger. Thanks, but I’d already figured that one out.”
“What on earth are you wearing?”
I glanced down at myself. I must admit I was a bit of a sight. “My pajamas. What does it look like?”
“Morgan … ”
“Thanks for the heads up,” I interrupted, “but as you can see, I’m fine.”
“Morgan,” his voice was nearly a snarl, “how can I protect you … ”
“I don’t need your protection, Jack. Don’t you get that? I can take care of myself. Obviously. I killed the bad little vampire all by myself.” I didn’t mention the contract. The last thing I needed was to give Jack more of an excuse to play Guardian.
“I know you can take care of yourself, Morgan, but I’m your Guardian. I’m supposed to watch out for you.”
“Then how about you do it from a distance?” It was mean, but I couldn’t help it. I didn’t want to deal with Jack. Maybe I couldn’t deal with Jack. “Now, it’s late and I’d like to go to bed.” I glanced pointedly at the backdoor.
“Fine. But I will be watching.”
I had no doubt of that.
***
“Someone has a hit out on you? You’ve got to be kidding me.” Inigo’s voice on the phone had lost all sound of sleepiness the minute I’d told him about the vampire attack.
“No, I’m not kidding. I’m staring right at the advertisement.” The vamp hadn’t been lying about that. It was right there on the website in black and white. Somebody wanted me dead and they wanted it bad.
Welcome to my life.
“I’m coming over, Morgan.”
Part of me wanted to argue. That old independent streak rearing its head. But a bigger part of me just wanted to curl up in his arms and hide from the world for awhile. Inigo might not be as big and muscular as Jack, or Trevor, for that matter, but he was mine.
And he was a freaking half-dragon for crying out loud.
I figured I might as well make coffee. I sure as hell wasn’t going to sleep.
I closed my eyes on a sigh. I fingered the Atlantean amulet that hung around my neck. There was no use denying it anymore. Ever since I’d come into contact with the amulet, my life had been turned upside-down and sideways. That included the fact that I was now some kind of human conduit for every superpower the people of Atlantis had ever concocted.
Shit.
Fortunately, Inigo arrived before my thoughts could get too maudlin. He tsk-tsked over my ruined robe and promised to buy me another. I didn’t doubt it, though I was a little scared about what he might buy. With my luck it would be sheer. And pink. I shuddered at the thought.
He hauled me off to bed, not for sex, just to cuddle. Having a boyfriend who could read your every mood was sometimes a really good thing. I snuggled into the heat of him, inhaling the chocolatey campfire smell of him. Sometimes I wondered what
I’d ever done without him in my life.
His arms were deliciously warm as they wrapped around me. I could hear his heart under my ear, its strong beat lulling me. Before I knew it I’d slipped off into dreamland.
***
“You owe us, Marid.”
“We owe you nothing, kinsman,” the giant man spat. His overdeveloped muscles bulged and shifted under reddish hued skin. His enormous frame completely dwarfed me.
“We brought you here,” I reminded him. My tone was calm, but inside my heart was beating furiously. “We saved you from certain death. Without us, you would have died along with our sun.”
“You should have let us die,” the Marid spat. “This place is not a place for us. It cannot sustain us. We will die here, despite your meddling. I should kill you for that alone.”
Fire danced at his fingertips and the wind kicked up, swirling around us until my heavy silk robe flapped around my frame. It snapped so hard, I would no doubt have welts afterward.
I swallowed. The Marid were the most powerful of the djinn. Even on our homeworld they were difficult to control. Here …
“Listen carefully, Marid, there is a way.”
“Impossible,” he snarled. “Half my village has already perished. What can you do, Priest?”
I smiled at that. Despite his hatred of me, he was still afraid. In this instance, fear was good.
“Give me what I want, and I vow by all the gods your people will survive.”
The giant man pondered for a moment. “You fail me and I will destroy you, Priest.”
He could try. But I kept silent and let him have the last word. “So shall it be.”
***
I woke with my face smooshed into my pillow and Inigo’s arm wrapped around my waist. At some point in the night I’d turned and we’d ended up spooning. My favorite.
The dream came back to me in bits and pieces. I’d been the High Priest again. Freaking fantastic. Well, at least I hadn’t gone crazy and murdered anybody this time.
I frowned. Something had woken me. I just couldn’t …
The first few perky bars of Caro Emerald’s “That Man” filled the room. Phone. I squinted at the clock. 4am. Somebody better be dead.
“‘Lo?”
“Morgan, it’s Trevor.”
I sat up in bed. Inigo grunted in his sleep and tried to pull me closer. Men.
“Trevor, what’s wrong?” I could hear it in his voice. All was very definitely not well.
“I’m in the hospital. In Bend.”
Bend was about an hour’s drive from Madras and the closest hospital to the small town. I didn’t like the sound of that. “What happened? Are you okay?” I must have sounded half hysterical, because that woke Inigo up quick.
“I will be.” My brother’s voice was a little huskier than usual, but he didn’t sound too bad.
“What do you mean, you will be?”
“Morgan, I’ll be fine.”
“Trevor.” I couldn’t help if I sounded a little testy. The man was trying my patience.
“I was attacked last night. In my hotel room. Fortunately somebody called the cops and the attackers ran off, but they gave me a pretty good ass-kicking. I’ve got a cracked rib, some contusions, and they’re insisting on keeping me for observation. It’s no big deal.”
“You’ve got a concussion, don’t you?” Why else would they keep him for “observation?”
He sighed. “Yeah. A little bit.”
“Dammit, Trev.”
“Morgan, I’m fine.”
“Were they human?”
“I think so. They seemed human. But … ” his voice trailed off.
“But you think somebody else was pulling their strings.”
“Yeah, I’m sure of it. One of them said something about not getting paid if they didn’t finish it.”
Another hit. It wasn’t just me, they were after my brother, too. What the fuck was going on?
As if sensing my distress, Inigo wrapped his arms around me, pressing his chest against my back and rubbing his cheek against my hair. It felt good. And a little distracting. I probably should have shoved him off so I could concentrate, but I liked his touch, and I think he needed to touch me as much as I needed him to.
“Okay, Trevor, you stay in the hospital and do what the doctors tell you. No being macho, okay?”
There was laughter in his voice. “Okay. What will you be doing?”
My own voice was grim. “Finding out who did this to you, and ripping them limb from limb.”
***
Okay, maybe I went a little overboard, but I get a little pissy when one of my people is threatened. And Trevor Daly was very definitely one of my people. He wasn’t just my half brother, he’d helped me save Inigo’s life. That meant something.
We were headed back over the mountains toward Madras and Trevor’s hotel room. I was hoping we’d pick up on something. Something that would lead us to the people who’d hurt Trevor, and hopefully, whoever had hired them to do the job. I had no idea if the hit on Trevor was related to the hit on me, but it was just one too many coincidences for my liking.
I was staring glumly at the road in front of us, the trees dark shapes against the pre-dawn sky. Suddenly The Cure blasted from the stereo.
You need thinking time. Inigo’s mind touched mine. Music always helps you think. I’m here when you need me. Then he withdrew from my head, a smile hovering as he drove my car deeper into the mountains.
I was a little overwhelmed at his thoughtfulness. Sometimes I thought he was way too good for me. How could I ever possibly deserve him?
I reached across and took his hand, tangling my fingers through his before letting my thoughts drift away. I’m telling you, every girl should have a mind-reading clairvoyant half-dragon for a boyfriend.
***
Trevor had been staying at the nicest of the three hotels in town, which wasn’t saying much. It was pretty basic, but it was clean and tidy and the manager was no-nonsense. There was no way he was letting us in Trevor’s room.
When I told him I was Trevor’s sister, he gave me a look that plainly said he didn’t believe me. He was very clear on one point: He didn’t care if I was the frigging Queen of England, I wasn’t getting in that room.
A little bit of outrageous flirtation with the maid and we were in. I should probably point out the flirtation was done by yours truly. Apparently Inigo wasn’t quite the maid’s type.
Although it was obvious there’d been a fight in the room, it didn’t look as if anything had been taken or rifled through. They’d definitely been after Trevor, not robbery. Dammit. This was not looking good for either of us.
“They were human.”
I glanced over at Inigo who was prowling around the room. “You can sense them?”
“Hell, no,” he laughed. “I can smell them. They all seriously need to bathe. And I think they’re on something.”
“Tweakers?”
He shrugged. “Can’t tell. You get anything?”
I frowned. “No, but I think there’s a lot more to this than a bunch of druggies who need a bath.”
“I agree. Next step?”
“We find them.” Yeah. So easy.
Needle. Meet haystack.
Chapter Ten
Thanks to Inigo’s sense of smell, tracking Trevor’s attackers wasn’t all that hard. We found them, or rather one of them, in a rundown apartment block on the outskirts of town. The place made the motel Vega had stayed in look like a palace.
I rapped on the door. There was a shuffling inside, then a sleepy voice, “Who is it?”
“Pizza.”
“I didn’t order any … oh.” The young man that opened the door was scrawny, bleary-eyed and wearing nothing but a pair of saggy tighty whities. So not attractive.
“Yeah, oh. What’s your name, kid?” I kept my voice firm, professional, but with just an edge of good humor. No use freaking him out. He was obviously half strung-out already.
�
��Uh, uh, Mikey.” He peered at me through long strands of dirty blond hair.
“Mikey, huh. Listen, Mikey, I’ve got some questions for you. Mind if we come in?” I slid one booted foot across the door frame so he would be unable to slam the door on us.
“Why? What questions? I don’t know anything.” He was starting to panic, sweat popping out across his forehead, skinny body trembling.
“Listen, we just want to come in and talk to you for a minute, no biggie.” I kept my voice light and cajoling. I was afraid it wasn’t going to work. I was right.
Mikey slammed the door, which bounced right off my boot, then he took off running with his drawers sagging halfway down his butt. I so did not need to see his pasty white cheeks. I’d have nightmares for a month.
“I’ll get him.” Inigo flashed a grin and took off after the kid. Two bounds and the junkie was laid out flat on the floor.
I stared down at the kid curled up on the floor. He couldn’t be much more than eighteen.
“Not the face.”
“What?” I stared down at Mikey, then glanced up at Inigo who gave me a shrug. “What are you talking about?”
“Please, beat me up, take what you want. Please just don’t hit me in the face.” He was practically sobbing.
And that’s when it hit me. There were a few professions where the face was an important part of the package, but I doubted Mikey was an actor. My stomach turned sour and I wanted to throw up. “How old are you Mikey?” I kept my voice soft, my body still.
Tears trickled down his face. “Seventeen.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. “Where is your family, Mikey?”
“Ain’t got one.”
And knowing the way the foster system worked, he was probably worse off in the system, believe it or not. Double shit. I felt sorry for the kid, but he’d been involved in beating up my brother. Maybe even in murder. I couldn’t let that stand, no matter what kind of shitty life the poor kid had lived.
Still, he didn’t strike me as the type that could take down a man like Trevor Daly. Not even on a good day. There was more to all this; I could practically smell it.
