Stormrise

by Knizley, Skye

  “I have learned to trust your instincts, Ravenel. I heard about your altercation at the bank. What do you intend to do?”

  Raven didn’t answer, her eyes focused on something in one of the vampire’s hands. She strode off purposefully, her eyes never leaving the vampire’s hand.

  Halfway towards her target, Raven intercepted Didi, who was standing in the shadows near the kitchen stairs. Raven scooped her Automag off the silver tray and continued toward the group of newcomers, who had begun sidling towards the lounge where a new courtesan distracted Valentina. They were less than ten steps away when Raven slid behind the leader and pressed her Automag to the back of his head, causing him to come to an abrupt stop.

  “Good evening,” she said in his ear. “I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I am Fürstin Ravenel Tempeste of the House Valentina. I’m sorry to bother you, but you seem to be holding a wooden stake in your hand. I can’t allow you to approach the Mistress with that, as you well know. Care to explain your actions?”

  By way of reply, the vampire tried to spin, employing the stake in his hand as a club. Even in an evening gown, Raven managed to dodge the clumsy backhand blow and calmly squeeze the trigger of the Automag. The high-powered bullet punched through the vampire’s face like it was gelatin, the silver and white oak instantly doing its job. The vampire was a pile of ash and clothing before the gun’s report stopped echoing around the room.

  The other members of the small group took a moment to register what had happened to their leader. When they did, they turned and snarled at Raven, backing away to encircle her. Raven watched them coolly, her Automag held at her side.

  “Look,” she said in a commanding voice. “You are in the Mistress’s home and you are surrounded by the Vampire Court. We’re not going to just let you walk out of here and you have no hope of winning a fight against us. Surrender to the Mistress’s justice or face the consequences!”

  As Raven spoke, many members of the Court, including Francois, spread out to encircle the attackers. The vampires inside the circle watched them warily, their claws opening and closing as they waited.

  From behind them came Valentina’s voice, quiet yet authoritative. “This is a violation of Court Law and the Totentanz. How dare you attack a member of the circle within the sanctity of their own home? Explain yourselves at once!”

  Raven watched the vampires, saw how their eyes narrowed, how their jaws clenched at Valentina’s words.

  Damn, she thought. They’re going to try to take us anyway. Stupid, suicidal bastards are going to throw down…

  The first vampire had barely moved when Raven shot him through the heart, causing him to explode in a shower of sparks and clothing. She sidestepped the second, feeling his claws snag in her dress, tearing the thin material away from her hip as she pulled away. When he turned to follow, she shot him through the head in a move that would have made Chow Yun Phat proud.

  Not bothering to watch him dissolve, Raven turned to find that Francois had fielded the remaining two, snapping one’s neck like a twig and holding the other by his collar at arm’s length. Raven shot the wounded one, knowing he would have recovered eventually, and moved to stand next Francois.

  Francois Du Guerre snarled at the vampire in his grip and said, “Tell me what this is all about and your death will be quick!”

  “Death to the false Mistress,” he choked, struggling in the master vampire’s grip. “She has no right to the Throne!”

  “She has every right,” Raven said, looking up at the struggling creature. “By right of blood and ascension, she took the throne when my grandfather was killed.”

  “There is an elder Strohm!” the man said. “Death to the false Mistress, all hail Master Strohm!”

  Seeing he had no escape and knowing he would be questioned further, the creature clenched his jaw tight, grinding his teeth with the effort. A moment later, the vampire’s head exploded in a shower of sparks and gore, bathing Raven and Francois in grey matter and ash.

  IX

  Raven sat back against Francois in the steaming water, luxuriating in the feel of his strong-fingered hands as he washed her hair. In the aftermath of the attack on the Mistress, the party had ended and the couple had adjourned to Raven’s room to clean the gore from their hair and bodies, a task Francois was enjoying immensely.

  When he was satisfied with Raven’s hair, he wrapped his arms around her and smiled into her neck. “So, Ravenel, your instincts did indeed prove to be correct. How did you know they were about to attack?”

  “Their leader had a wooden stake in his right hand,” Raven replied. “I saw it when he pulled it out of a sheath in his jacket.”

  Francois nodded and said, “You are very observant, my Fürstin. And quite deadly. I am certain your mother is proud of your efforts tonight.”

  Raven snuggled against Francois, her fingers playing with his chest. “It’s just what I do. I wasn’t about to let someone stake my mother. What do you think about what that guy said before he got ashed? About another Strohm?”

  Francois shrugged, causing the water in the tub to slosh against the porcelain and marble. “It is no secret that your grandfather spread his seed quite freely. He also was known to Embrace those few humans he felt were more than just sheep. It is possible there is an elder Strohm out there somewhere who may have a claim to the city.”

  “What happens if that’s true and he makes his case before the Court?” Raven asked.

  “As your mother is recognized as the Mistress of the City, she or her champion would be called to defend the throne against the claim,” Francois said.

  Raven frowned and looked up at her new love. “By the sound of it, it sounds like a fight. Is that what would happen?” she asked. “I’ve sort of neglected my study of the Totentanz.”

  “That is right, Ravenel,” Francois said. “Your mother would have to fight for her throne. To the death. The Totentanz calls for mortal combat before the Sanguine Court. And you should not be neglecting your studies. You have duties before the Court.”

  Raven frowned, no longer feeling warm in the sudsy water. “Why study when I have you? Francois, what if she refused to enter combat?"

  Francois paused for a moment, holding Raven close before replying, “Then it would mean all-out war. Something that hasn’t happened in our realm for centuries.”

  “Then let’s hope there isn’t another Strohm and those guys were just wackos,” Raven said, turning around in the tub, her body pressed to Francois.

  “Indeed,” Francois replied, admiring Raven’s form. “But let us speak of other things. There is no use in letting all this water go to waste.”

  “I like the way you think,” Raven pressed her lips to Francois’ in a long and lingering kiss. She let her tongue explore his mouth, breathing in his love while her hands stroked over his muscular chest. Francois growled in appreciation and slid a hand down Raven’s bare breast, teasing his fingers over her hard nipples, tweaking gently and promising more to come.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The golden autumn sun was high over the city when Raven breezed into the second-floor squad room. Her form-fitting slacks swished against the long black sweater she had chosen to hide her Automag. The color combination made her pale skin and severely pulled-back hair look stern, and she had chosen the outfit for just that effect. She had donned the boots Francois had given her as well as the long leather coat, which helped to combat the bitter wind that was still dancing like a demon through the city.

  Detective Levac was reviewing a file and he didn’t look up when Raven entered, instead offering her a donut from the box on his desk. She took a plain one and hopped onto her own desk, sitting cross-legged while she noshed the small pastry.

  “What’s so interesting?” she asked, nibbling the outer edge of the donut.

  “It’s a new report from Dr. Zhu,” he replied. “Looks like the FBI lab finally found something in the tissue samples he sent down.”

  Raven arched an eyebrow in
surprise. “Oh? What did they find?”

  Levac grinned and closed the file, swiveling to face his partner. “You’ll never guess.”

  Raven frowned and leaned a little closer to Levac. “Something to do with the mercury residue we found. A weapon or poison of some kind?”

  Levac nodded and reopened the file. “‘Mercury fulminate,’” he read. “Usually used as a primer for other explosives. It’s highly reactive to heat and acid. Looks like it left only some trace mercury behind after it exploded inside our victims, something we normally wouldn’t even look for, but Zhu was being thorough.”

  Raven slid off the desk and read over Levac’s shoulder. “How did it get into the victims?”

  “Dr. Zhu suspects it was injected or ingested,” he replied. “It wouldn’t take much of the material to do the damage in question, but it would've had to react with either heat or acid or both to explode. It’s pretty volatile stuff, but there’s nothing else in the human body that would set it off. You would need a combination of temperature and acid.”

  “So both our victims ingest mercury fulminate, which reacts with their systems and explodes…but there was nothing in either victim’s location that suggested they had eaten anything, so there must have been a time lapse,” Raven said.

  “That would make sense. Dr. Zhu’s report said the chemical should have reacted within moments of entering the victim’s stomach. Our suspect would have to have found a way to administer it with some kind of time-delay fuse or something.”

  Raven leaned back and stared at the ceiling for a moment, all thoughts of breakfast gone. In a distant voice, she said, “What’s a cunning way to administer a poison?”

  “Get them to give it to themselves,” Levac replied. “Preferably in a way that they don’t know they’re doing it and no one would ever find it.”

  Raven leaned forward and turned the report page. “Exactly! So we have to figure out what they took, some kind of common thread…”

  “It’ll have to wait,” Frost said, leaning out of his office door. “We just got a hit on Hellsey. It looks like she paid for breakfast with a MasterCard.”

  Tossing her donut into the trash, Raven slid off her desk and moved toward Frost. “Where?”

  “The Elysium Hotel, near the airport,” Frost replied.

  Levac shrugged into his coat, spilling powdered sugar onto the floor. “Uh oh. She’s rabbiting.”

  Not waiting for any more information, Raven turned and jogged toward the stairs, grabbing Levac and dragging him along behind her.

  “Don’t let Hellsey get away!” Frost ordered. “She’s all we’ve got on this case and the chief is breathing down my neck for some kind results after your last stunt!”

  “We’re on it, boss,” Levac called back, his voice cutting off as the stair door slammed behind him.

  II

  The Elysium Hotel, a sixty-floor skyscraper named for the afterlife of Greek mythology, served the area near O’Hare airport. It had been constructed with an eye toward being the most luxurious business hotel in the city, with white marbled floors, crystal chandeliers and gas fireplaces situated throughout the lobby, meeting areas that shamed all but the most elite businesses, and five-star cuisine.

  Raven’s heels echoed on the floor of the nearly empty lobby as she purposefully approached the concierge desk, which sat in front of a glassed-in waterfall. A white-gloved attendant of indeterminate age inclined his head slightly and said in honeyed tones, “Good afternoon, Madam. Welcome to Elysium. Do you have a reservation?”

  With a roll of her eyes at the gentleman’s fake accent, Raven flipped open her credentials. “Detectives Storm and Levac, Chicago Police. We’re looking for someone: a Taylor Hellsey we believe is registered here. She likely paid for her room in cash within the last day or so.”

  The concierge examined Raven’s badge as well as the accompanying photo identification before turning to his computer, which was hidden beneath the counter. Nothing as tacky as a computer monitor would be seen at Elysium. After a heartbeat, he looked up with raised eyebrows. “I’m sorry, Detective Storm; there appears to be no guest registered at Elysium by that name."

  Levac leaned on the counter and slouched, again doing his Columbo impression. “We know she was here this morning,” he said. “She bought breakfast in your restaurant. She’s a tall girl with long blonde hair and greenish-blue eyes, if her photograph matches reality. She would’ve had to walk right past here to get from the elevators to the stairs. Can you help us out, sir?”

  The concierge lowered his eyebrows and nodded. “I did indeed see the young woman in question. I believe she’s registered under the name Victoria King in room 1408.”

  “Thank you,” Levac said, grinning at Raven. “We’re sorry to bother you, sir.”

  “No bother at all, Detective Levac. Good luck!” replied the concierge.

  Ignoring Levac’s frantic note-taking, Raven turned, crossing the distance to the elevators in a few strides. The motion sensors above the elevator doors sensed her presence and one of the cars opened, and Levac hurried to join Raven inside.

  Raven looked at Levac once the doors had closed. "Victoria King?"

  "Yeah, I noticed that. An amalgam of our two vics. Sounds like maybe Taylor knows more than we thought."

  Raven frowned and watched the numbers go by. They reached the fourteenth floor in less time than it took for the Muzak version of “What a Feeling” to play through. Raven stepped out into the lushly carpeted hallway, followed by Levac. They found room 1408 in the middle of the hall near some vending machines that had been placed out of sight lest they offend a guest.

  Levac leaned against the wall next to the door and pulled his Beretta. He nodded he was ready to Raven, who knocked several times on the white-painted security door. She stepped away from the door in case the suspect was armed.

  They waited for what seemed an eternity, listening to the hum and clink of the soda machines, which, no matter how advanced they became, were never going to be the silent treat vendors they were advertised to be.

  When it became clear Hellsey was not going to answer the door, Raven knocked again and called, “Ms. Hellsey? Chicago Police; we’d like to speak with you, please.”

  Still, there was no reply. Rather than taking the time to convince the concierge to open the door, Raven leaned back and kicked the area next to the knob as hard as she could. The door snapped open with a crash of splintered wood and bent locks, revealing a narrow corridor beyond which was the spacious room Hellsey had paid quite handsomely for. From where the detectives were standing, they could see a white leather sofa, a glass coffee table and a black suede chair decorated with a red pillow. Sunlight was streaming through a wide bay window that looked out on the airport, and a breeze was fluttering the grey sheers that covered the frosted glass. There was no sign of the suspect.

  Raven glanced at Levac and then stepped through the door, drawing her Automag as she moved.

  “Ms. Hellsey?” she called again. “Chicago Police; please show yourself; we know you’re here!”

  The silence was deafening and Raven shifted cautiously, her pistol held in front of her.

  Unsure where the suspect might be hiding, Raven paused at the entrance to the spacious bedroom, peeking in to see if there was anyone lurking in the large bed or hiding behind the door. The room appeared empty; however, Raven was unwilling to give it a complete pass. She motioned for Levac to check it and she would investigate the living area; she waited until he had entered the bedroom before turning and walking into the common room.

  The room looked somewhat lived in, but not overly so. There was a pair of slippers on the floor under the table and a carton of Chinese takeout sitting on the floor next to them.

  An open door led into the bathroom while an archway led into the common room’s attached bar and kitchenette.

  Raven was turning toward the bathroom when Levac appeared at her elbow, his face grim. He indicated with a look that the bedroom had been em
pty and that Hellsey was either gone or hiding in the bathroom. Acknowledging Levac with a nod, Raven approached the open door. The faint slosh of water could be heard and a pool of water on the white-tiled floor reflected the crystalline chandelier overhead.

  Using her off hand, Raven eased the door open. The room beyond was fit for a king and perhaps had been created with the luxury of ancient monarchs in mind. A two-person shower made of frosted glass and brushed steel stood in the corner next to a double sink made of black marble. A modern-looking commode matched with a bidet sat opposite the door, while the deep marble tub took up the opposite side of the room. It was from this that the sloshing sound, accompanied by a gentle thump, was coming.

  Raven walked on her toes through the water until she could see the tub, where Taylor Hellsey was floating face down in a tub full of bloody water, her pale skin surrounded by her own pulped organs.

  III

  Ryan knelt next to the body of Taylor Hellsey; his technicians had pulled her from the tub as carefully as they could and laid her on a plastic sheet to collect the majority of the water. Like the other victims, her stomach and ribs had had been opened up from the inside, like something out of a Ridley Scott film. Ryan was taking a liver temperature when Levac leaned over his shoulder.

  “An hour, maybe less,” Levac said in the coroner’s ear.

  “What?” Ryan asked, not really listening.

  “It can’t have been more than an hour since she paid for breakfast in the hotel restaurant,” Levac replied. “What’s a body temp going to tell you?”

  Ryan glanced at the detective and then showed him the thermometer he was holding. “It is going to be more precise than your wild guess, for one thing. Based on the water temperature and her temperature, I would say she has been dead about forty minutes. She was probably gasping her last breath when you and Storm kicked the door down.”

  “Any way you can tell if it was that mercury stuff Dr. Zhu found?” Levac asked.