Stormrise

by Knizley, Skye

  She located room twenty-eight, a corner room with a good view of the hallway from the door’s small peephole. The key went into the lock easily and Raven suspected Boone had oiled the door himself; she recognized the smell of his preferred gun oil. She shook her head and pushed the door open, turning sideways to limit her silhouette.

  The room beyond had once been a suite, and technically still qualified as one. The door opened into a short hallway that led into a small sitting area. Two louvered doors led to the bedroom and bathroom respectively and a wide rain-speckled window overlooked Old Town below. The smell of gun oil and Hoppe’s No. 9 cleaner permeated the room, overpowering the scent of mold and sweat filtering in from the hallway.

  On the room’s coffee table rested an assortment of weapons, ranging from what Raven recognized as a Browning machine gun to a Heckler and Koch Mp5 with a suppressor and extended double magazine. Mixed between these two were pistols and knives of almost every type and description.

  Wow, Raven thought. Guess I'm lucky he only brought a few friends with him, after all. I never thought I'd appreciate being underestimated so much.

  Leaving the weapons alone, she turned towards the bedroom. Her fingers had just closed on the knob when the door exploded outward in a shower of splinters and a fearsome, grey-skinned creature burst through, its fangs bared, its clawed hands reaching for Raven’s throat.

  Falling backwards in surprise, Raven had only a heartbeat to realize what was happening before the winged monster was upon her. The creature, a massive humanoid with vestigial wings beneath its spindly arms and fangs jutting from its square jaw, was dressed in the tatters of a pair of jeans and a tee shirt, indicating it had once been human. It swiped at Raven with razor-sharp claws and she rolled to the side, using the motion to draw her Automag and put some distance between the creature and herself.

  “Freeze,” she ordered, climbing back to her feet. “Detective Storm, Chicago Police! Stop or I’ll use deadly force!”

  The creature showed no sign of understanding her instructions, continuing its crab-like approach and again clawing at Raven, the razor sharp tips whistling through the air inches from her face.

  The Automag’s report was deafening in the small room. Raven fired three shots in quick succession, watching each of the heavy rounds punch through the creature’s torso and embed themselves in the wall behind. The creature keened in pain, a loud wail that set Raven’s teeth on edge, but it seemed otherwise unfazed by the wounds, continuing forward and catching Raven with a roundhouse slap that sent her sprawling to the floor, blood dripping from her split lip.

  Raven shook her head to clear the sparks dancing behind her eyes and looked up just in time to see the creature looming over her, its clawed hands reaching for her hair. She tried to roll aside again, but was too slow and the vampiric thing buried its claws in her hair and jerked her upright, baring her neck in the process. Extending its long, raw-looking tongue, the thing lapped at the blood on Raven’s face and moaned hungrily before opening its mouth, fangs fully extended.

  “You’re a vampire?” Raven asked in surprise. “I am Fürstin Ravenel Tempeste of the Royal Court; by the laws of the Totentanz, unhand me immediately!”

  Again, the creature made no sign that it understood what Raven had said, instead lowering its mouth to her neck. Its fangs bit deep and she knew she had only a moment to act. Twisting in the creature’s grip, she forced her Automag under its chin and squeezed the trigger, quietly praying that the round exited through the top of the monster’s head rather than through the side of her own skull.

  Her aim was true and the bullet ripped through the creature’s jaw and forehead, bathing Raven in blood and temporarily deafening her left ear. The creature dropped to the ground, writhing in silent agony, its skull and brain already beginning to heal.

  With a hand clamped to the wound in her neck, Raven changed her weapon’s magazine, replacing the police-safe rounds with the high-powered cartridges she used on the rare occasion she had to put down a preternatural. The large silver-tipped, hollow-point bullets were filled with garlic, holy water and sawdust from an ancient oak; a little something for everyone.

  Wincing from the pain in her neck and shoulders, Raven fired three shots into the creature’s chest, killing it and causing it to explode in a flash of ash and flame. As it disintegrated around her, she dropped the Automag and reached for her phone, dialing the first number that came to mind.

  “Ravenel, good evening!” came Francois’ happy voice a moment later. “This is a truly wonderful surprise. What can I do for you this evening? Would you care to join me for a late dinner?”

  “Francois…” Raven choked, blood trickling between her fingers. “Help…I need help…”

  “Ravenel? What is wrong? What has happened; are you okay? Raven? Raven!”

  The young detective gritted her teeth and tried to respond, managing to gasp, “Bethany,” before falling to her knees and then to the floor, blood pooling around her head. She watched the crimson puddle and gritted her teeth, wondering if Francois would find her and wishing she wasn't so picky about feeding.

  III

  Consciousness approached Raven as if from a great distance. She felt like she was swimming through molasses and getting nowhere as she struggled from the cold pool of unconsciousness to full wakefulness. Eventually she became aware that the dull droning she could hear was someone speaking nearby and the lights she was trying so hard to focus on were candles burning in sconces lining the master bedroom in Francois’ penthouse home. She recognized the tapestries from medieval France from when she had peeked in a few nights before.

  With some difficulty, she cleared her throat and shifted under the covers, drawing Francois’ attention. He appeared in Raven’s vision, concern etched in his face.

  “Ravenel? Can you hear me?" He reached out to take the young woman’s hand.

  “I’m here, Francois. I told you to call me Raven.” Raven's voice sounding far away. “What happened to me?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing. When I found you, you were unconscious from loss of blood. If I had been much later, you would have crossed into the Styx and would be supping with your ancestors, rather than decorating my bed.”

  Raven smiled and licked her dry lips before responding, “Then I’m glad you move fast; most of my ancestors wouldn’t approve of me. How long have I been out?”

  “Only a few hours,” Francois said. “Luckily for you, my butler has medical training and we had a few pints of blood on hand. You are healing nicely now, but you had us all very worried.”

  “Indeed,” came Valentina’s voice from somewhere behind Francois. “You gave us quite a scare, my little one.”

  “Mom?” Raven whispered, looking up at Francois. “You called my mother?”

  Francois shrugged. “It seemed the prudent thing to do, Ravenel. You were attacked and are a Fürstin of the noble house. It was my duty as a member of Court to notify her of your injury.”

  Raven made a sour face and wriggled under the covers until she could see her mother, who was seated by the window. The elder vampire was dressed plainly, for her, in a long black gown made of spun silk and a simple red shawl. She was watching Raven with a mixture of concern and amusement.

  “Hello, Mother,” Raven said. “I'm sorry you got called out in this weather for this little scratch.”

  Valentina waved Raven’s comment away and stood to join Francois at the side of the bed. “Nonsense. You are my child and, as Monsieur Du Guerre pointed out, a member of the noble house. You mean more to me than you know and coming to you was no trouble. How are you feeling?”

  Raven rubbed the bandage on her neck. “Like something took an Iowa-sized chunk out of me.”

  Valentina nodded while Francois asked, “Ravenel, what happened? I detected the ashed remains of a vampire in the room. Who was it? Why did you kill it?"

  “I have no idea what it was.” Raven leaned back into the plush pillows. “It wasn’t like
anything I've ever seen before, not a typical Embraced or a lycan. He was winged and kind of bestial, like he was stuck somewhere between human and animal form. He was also pretty stupid, far more interested in feeding on me than in self-preservation. I tried to talk sense to him, and I identified myself as of the noble house and I only got a growl in response.”

  Valentina exchanged glances with Francois, who nodded once.

  “One of the forsaken ones,” Valentina whispered. “I thought they were no more.”

  “A forsaken one?” Raven asked. “What's that?”

  Francois paused for a long moment, gathering his thoughts before speaking. “In the dark ages, there was a punishment used on vampires who had committed heinous crimes against vampire kind, including Embraced and Children. Those found guilty were locked away deep beneath the earth, where they were bound with silver chains and starved of sustenance. The pain of their bonds prevented them from lapsing into torpor or escaping from confinement.”

  “It was intended to be a form of prison,” Valentina interjected. “As vampires, most types of confinement have little purpose, as we can simply hibernate until the sentence is over. This punishment prevented them from being able to do so, forcing them to properly suffer.”

  “That makes sense, I guess,” Raven said sourly. “I hope I never get on the bad side of the Court. My punishment would probably to be locked up listening to Barry Manilow records. But what does this have to do with the deformed vampire I encountered at the Bethany?”

  “I was getting to that,” Francois said, hiding a smile. “The punishment had an unexpected side effect. When the guilty were brought up at the end of their sentence, it was found they had gone mad and had transformed into mindless vampiric creatures perpetually caught in a state of blood frenzy. They cannot be reasoned with, cannot be controlled, and most were immediately put down.”

  “Afterward, the punishment was ended,” Valentina said. “The Court of the time ruled that the aftereffects were too extreme and too dangerous. The punishment was replaced with execution through sunlight exposure.”

  “Well, someone is still using the forsaken punishment,” Raven said. “This thing was insane, unable to speak, and it shrugged off a chest full of hollow-points like they were mosquito bites.”

  “Not only is someone continuing it,” Francois said. “They have found a way to control their creations. A forsaken one would never have waited in that room otherwise. Sheep were plentiful within that hovel. The forsaken one should have gone into a feeding frenzy and attacked everyone in the building.”

  Raven frowned and looked up at Francois. “Great. Considering that was Tobias Boone’s hideout and he already tried to kill me, it’s a good bet whoever the suspect is can control and perhaps create these things. That isn’t exactly good news. I hate it when the supernatural collides with my cases.”

  Valentina moved past Francois and sat next to Raven on the bed. “Ravenel, my love…perhaps you should drop this case and take some time off while the Court looks into this. These blood-starved vampires are incredibly dangerous and their involvement makes this a Totentanz matter.”

  “I agree, Ravenel,” Francois interjected. “Take some time off; join me in the Swiss Alps for a few weeks while the rest of the Court deals with this.”

  Raven made a face and shook her head. “No way. This is my case. I don’t care of this guy has creepy-crawlies working for him or not. I’m going to find him and put him away for a very long time."

  Francois frowned and folded his arms across his broad chest, causing his shirt to gap in interesting ways and drawing Raven’s attention. “Ravenel, I believe there is more to your case than a simple murder. Your run-of-the-mill crimes of passion do not normally involve forsaken vampires and black magic. Please, let the Court investigate in your stead.”

  “That just makes it more interesting,” Raven replied, her jaw set. “Look, Dad wouldn’t have dropped a case just because it got a little more dangerous than he expected. I’m not going to, either. I can handle myself.”

  Valentina smiled in spite of her concern and leaned down to kiss her daughter’s forehead. “No, he would not, and yes, you can, my love. You are certainly his child. Stubborn to the bone.”

  Raven smiled. “Yes, and that’s why you love me, Mother.”

  “I am not pleased you will not reconsider,” Francois said. “Someone with the power to control forsaken ones is not to be trifled with. You almost died tonight, Ravenel! I could not bear the thought of losing you!”

  Raven turned her gaze towards Francois, again taking in his breathtaking beauty, from the blond hair that cascaded down his shoulders to his near-perfect skin and the muscles that rippled beneath. God, how she wanted to share his bed again!

  “But I didn’t, Francois,” she said. “Thanks to you, I’m going to be fine and live to fight another day. Besides, the forsaken vampire caught me by surprise. I know how to take them down now. If you’re going to date me, you have to come to terms with my job. It’s dangerous, deadly even, but it’s what I do.”

  “As you wish, Ravenel,” Francois said. “I will gather what information I have on the forsaken; perhaps it will assist you in your investigation.”

  Raven smiled warmly. “Thank you. I think I can use all the help I can get.”

  “You should rest now, Ravenel,” Valentina said. “Your body is still recovering from the loss of blood. You should feed, but I know better than to expect that of you.”

  Raven nodded, overwhelmingly tired. Part of her knew it was her mother’s influence, and was vaguely annoyed she had used her elder powers on her own daughter, but Raven also knew her mother was right and she needed the rest. A normal human would be in the hospital after losing so much blood. With visions of Francois dancing in her head, Raven fell into a deep sleep.

  IV

  As the first rays of the rising dawn caressed the city, it brought with it a dense fog that blanketed the low-lying sections of the Windy City. Wet skyscrapers and high-rise buildings jutted from the fog like tombstones poking through the deep snow of winter, making the city look surreal in the early dawn light.

  Raven stood peering through the thick velvet curtains of Francois’ bedroom, her neck wound almost healed and her body feeling refreshed and healthy. She watched the quiet city for a few minutes, enjoying the warm morning sun before returning to the cart placed at the foot of the bed. True to his word, Francois had left her a journal that smelled of old paper and incense and was stuffed with drawings, stories and theories regarding the tortured creatures known as the forsaken ones. Raven flipped through it for a moment then set it aside and opened the box she knew would contain an outfit Francois found suitable for her. Inside was everything she would need for the day, from lacey lingerie she was sure cost more than the gross national product of a small country to a pair of designer skinny jeans in black, a silver blouse made of silk, and a pair of high leather boots that would end above her knees. He had also included a long coat of soft black leather and three magazines of her specialized ammunition. A note attached to one of the magazines read:

  Your brother and I took the liberty, just in case.

  Francois

  Raven smiled in spite of herself and took the box to the guest bathroom to get ready for the day. She left an hour later, stepping out into the cool morning fog and turning up the coat’s collar against the wind still blowing in off the lake. She found her Shelby in the garage and, when she slipped behind the wheel, smelled Francois’ masculine scent. Obviously he had brought the car home himself. She usually didn’t allow anyone else to drive her father’s classic and had in fact threatened to shoot a coworker when he slid behind the wheel, but in this case she could make an exception. Besides, her erstwhile partner didn’t have a butt like Francois’.

  Her phone was waiting for her in its cradle on the center console and she grabbed it, sending Levac a quick text asking him to meet her at the Bethany before starting the engine and driving back to Old Town.


  The Bethany didn’t look any better by daylight and Raven wasted no time moving through the repugnant lobby and back to Boone’s second-floor room. Francois had been as discreet as possible in his rescue; he had broken the lock and crushed the doorknob, but otherwise left the door intact.

  Inside, the room was essentially as she had left it; the cleaning crew wouldn’t get to it until much later in the day. The only addition was the puddle of dark red blood she had left behind the night before, still drying on the moth-eaten carpet. Given the state of the rest of the hotel, no one would even notice the new stain.

  Raven continued her examination where she had left off, entering the bedroom with her Automag in her hands in a Weaver stance. Two double beds had been squeezed into the room, separated only by a small nightstand and a pair of wall sconces. One of the beds was covered in luggage; mostly military-style kit bags mixed with full-frame backpacks. The other appeared to have been recently slept in, either by Boone, one of his cronies, or the forsaken vampire; the covers were in disarray and the pillows arranged in a sort of U-shape as if he had been sleeping on his side.

  Still moving with care in case there were any other surprises waiting for her, Raven moved to the pile of luggage. It took a few minutes to rifle through the bags, where she found an assortment of ammunition for the weapons Boone had left behind, some neatly folded clothes, and a bag full of aluminum-wrapped bricks. Raven lifted out the first, knowing what it would contain, but needing to make certain. With great care, she unwrapped the brick to reveal a neat stack of twenty-dollar bills.

  She was just unwrapping the last brick when Levac entered, a breakfast sandwich clutched in his hand and a group of lab technicians following closely behind like the train of a very dirty wedding gown.