Stormrise

by Knizley, Skye

  Knowing it was only a matter of time before the better-armed vampires closed in on her, Raven went on the offensive. The world went blue as she called on her mother’s lineage. The vampires stood out in her vision in red-highlighted purple. Several of them stood out as a darker color, indicating they hadn’t fed recently. Others were warm and bright, indicating they had recently supped and probably on the blood of unwilling innocents, given their dislike of Mistress Valentina.

  Snarling low in her throat, Raven leapt, using the dumpster to boost herself onto the roof some twenty feet above her head. She landed in the gravel that covered the surface and rolled, bullets kicking up dirt and debris where she had been lying less than a breath before. She fired as she rolled, squeezing the trigger of her pistol with precision, eliminating three more of the vampires and causing the rest of the group to dive out of harm’s way. She completed the maneuver with a handspring that brought her back to her feet, fangs bared.

  Though a half-blooded day-walker, the blood of a master vampire still flowed through her veins, making her faster, stronger and more resilient than others of her kind. The price for using her abilities would be great, but for now she was more than a match for the remaining mercenaries. Using a mixture of exactly aimed shots and well-timed blows that would have earned her an award in the Hong Kong Action Theater, Raven dispatched her attackers, leaving the last hanging over the edge of the building, his arm a ruined mess dangling from a torn and shattered socket. His wounds would take more than a pint of blood to cure.

  Raven pulled off the man’s mask and leaned close, her breath hissing in his ear. “Where is your master, and where can I find my sister’s friend Ash?”

  The wounded creature shook his head, refusing to speak.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” Raven hissed. “You don’t want to know what my mother will do to you if I turn you over to the Court. You’ll be lucky to end up a forsaken. Where!”

  The vampire looked up through pain-and-fear-hazed eyes and said “I…don’t know the master. None of us do. The old man is being held inside the club.”

  Raven inhaled the vampire’s scent, her enhanced senses sorting through the coppery smell of blood and the tang of fear. The creature was too terrified to lie. Not bothering to speak any further, Raven shot him through the forehead and let his ash spill to the ground like fine black snow. She then dropped to the pavement, her keen eyes finding her sister lurking in the shadows.

  “You could have helped,” Raven said, reloading the Automag.

  Pandora shook her head and spread her hands in a gesture of helplessness. “They have Ash. If I’d gotten involved, they may have called in to kill him. Besides, I knew you could handle them far better than I could. I am not a mistress.”

  Raven rolled her eyes and turned towards the Club behind her. “Nor am I and you know it.”

  “You are Fürstin,” Pandora said. “You are a dhampyr and you are Mother’s child. Your father’s human side only makes you stronger.”

  “Whatever,” Raven said with a shake of her head. “Ash is inside, probably in the office area. I’ll go and get him; I’ve been in the back rooms before.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Pandora asked.

  Raven holstered the Automag and turned back to her sister, who was standing in the light. “Call Francois Du Guerre and ask him to bring me a good vintage. I’m going to need it when this is over and he’s the only one I trust.”

  Pandora nodded. “I will, Ray. Be careful…I want both of you to come out of there safely.”

  VIII

  In for a penny, in for a pound, Raven chose not to walk back around to the front entrance. She instead kicked the back door as hard as she could, shattering the lock and pulling the hinges from the reinforced frame. As the door sagged inward, Pandora called from the darkness, “Just like your father…subtle.”

  Raven ignored her sister’s sarcasm and stepped over the ruined door and into a short hallway. The dull thud of the club’s sound system echoed in the dimly lit corridor, drowning out the noise of her entrance. Aside from the debris from the now hopelessly destroyed door, the hallway was empty. Whoever was behind Ash’s abduction was expecting his goons to be adequate protection.

  Raven moved down the hallway, her still-glowing eyes flicking to the various doorways. The entryway straight ahead, she remembered, would lead back into the club, while the one to the right would lead into the back office. She doubted that Ash would be held in the office, but she paused to listen at the door anyway. Hearing nothing, she turned toward another door on the left. Something told her there was a guard waiting on the other side. Not wanting to give up the element of surprise, Raven quietly turned the knob and then rushed through, slamming the door into the waiting thug, who collapsed under the attack.

  Her motion a blur, Raven drew her Automag again and swept the room. She found herself in a large, rectangular chamber decked out like an opium den. Red and gold tapestries covered the walls, drowning out all but the worst of the bass thud from the dance floor just a few feet away. A round bed covered in red, gold and silver sheets and decorated with body pillows sat in the middle of the room surrounded by small tables, upon which sat opulent glass hookahs that matched the room’s colors. A handful of men and women dressed either in their underwear or not at all were lounging on the pillows, looks of bliss on their faces from the chemical cocktail they had been inhaling. Scattered around were members of Cornelius’ cadre, each feeding on one of the near-unconscious forms.

  Lying on the large bed, Cornelius, the owner of Club Purgatory and a pure-blood vampire, looked up from the bare thigh of a willing young victim and wiped blood from his chin. “Ah, Fürstin Ravenel. To what do I owe this invasion of my Sanctum Sanctorum?”

  Stepping with caution lest she slip on blood or trip over one of the recumbent victims, Raven approached Cornelius, her senses taut as a drum. “Can it, Lius, I know you have Pandora’s familiar Ash here somewhere. I want him and I want to know where I can find the master who paid you off.”

  “My dear Fürstin, I have no idea what you're talking about,” Cornelius replied in honeyed tones. “My friends and I were simply enjoying some fine company and sweetly enhanced claret when you barged in. Care for a little snort?”

  Knowing she was running out of time, Raven kicked one of Cornelius’ intoxicated lackeys out of her way and leaned onto the bed. With her face inches from his, she growled, “Stop jerking me around, Lius, or your friends here will be cleaning you up with a dustpan. Where is Ash, and who paid you to hold him?”

  The older vampire looked into the Fürstin’s eyes and undoubtedly saw nothing, but righteous anger and the certainty that she would end his existence in a heartbeat. He squirmed away until he had put the bed between them and then straightened his robe with as much dignity as he could muster.

  “If I tell you, he’ll kill me,” he said. “He has eyes and ears everywhere.”

  “Worry about me. If you don’t tell me,” Raven said, advancing around the bed, “I’ll kill you and take your precious club apart brick by rotten brick until I find what I’m looking for.”

  Cornelius stared at the Fürstin. While he was obviously afraid of the master, he looked even more terrified of the woman moving toward him with mayhem in mind. “And you will kill him if I tell you, I suppose?”

  Raven nodded. “That would be the plan. He has threatened the Court and my mother. It’s my duty to take steps.”

  Sagging and seeming to shrink into his silk robe, Cornelius said, “Ash is being held in my private chamber, through the side door. You’re free to take him.”

  “And the master who set this up?” Raven pressed.

  “His name is Strohm. I don’t know his first name,” Cornelius replied. “He seems to have a real problem with your mother as Mistress of the City.”

  “I’ve heard of him. He's somehow related to my mother,” Raven said. “Where can I find him?”

  “I don’t know; I only met h
im the one time,” Cornelius said. When Raven shifted towards him, he added, “I swear I don’t know! But he has a concubine named Lianna. I know her number.”

  “Get it,” Raven said. “Before I get back.”

  Without another word, she turned and made her way through the tangle of inebriated forms to the double doors at the back of the room. She kicked them open to reveal another room straight out of Caligula. She ignored the trappings of Cornelius’ depraved imagination and walked straight to Ash, who was tied to a chair with a gag in his mouth. The middle-aged gentleman’s eyes widened with relief when he saw Raven, and he struggled in his bonds.

  “It’s okay, Ash,” Raven said. “Hang on.”

  Not having a knife, Raven had to work at the knots binding the older man to the chair. Though it only took a few moments, she found the world going dim when she straightened and Ash had to catch her to keep her from falling.

  “What's wrong, Ray? Are you hurt?” he asked.

  “I had to use my powers,” Raven replied, the words slurred with exhaustion. “That always comes with a price.”

  “You need to feed,” Ash said, understanding.

  “Yeah, but not till we’re safe,” Raven said, straightening. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  Through sheer will, Raven led Ash from the room to where Cornelius was standing with a sticky note stuck to one finger. He held it out to Raven, his fingers shaking. “Here. This is where we met when I was summoned, along with Lianna’s phone number.”

  Raven took the paper, pausing only to confirm it actually held an address before sliding it into her pocket.

  “If this doesn’t pan out, I’ll be back. And I won’t be so nice,” Raven growled.

  Cornelius glanced at his broken doors and the unconscious guard on the floor and then back to Raven. “You call this nice? Some people would have knocked!” he yelled with as much pride as he could muster.

  “Yeah, I call it nice,” Raven replied, heading towards the door. “I could have blown your kneecaps off like my father would have. Piece of advice, Lius. Next time someone suggests you assist them in an attack on my family? Just say ‘no’.”

  Watching Raven leave, Cornelius said, “Sound advice, Ravenel. Sound advice.”

  It was all Raven could do to get Ash out the back door and to the side of the building where Pandora was waiting. The two lovers embraced, leaving Raven to sag against the wall, her energy spent.

  Raven watched the two hug and smiled. She knew she should be at least a little angry with her sister, but though Pandora was trained in violence, it didn’t come easily to her. From Pandora’s point of view, either Raven would have been successful in the rescue attempt, or Ash’s captors would have taken Raven instead. Either way, she had expected to get Ash back and that was all that really mattered to her.

  “Hey, lovebirds!” she called, her voice hoarse. “Little help, here?”

  The couple turned toward Raven, and Pandora helped her to stand, embracing her tightly. “I’m sorry, sister. Thank you for saving my Ash. I owe you one.”

  “You’re welcome, Dora,” Raven replied. “Did Francois answer?”

  Pandora opened her mouth to respond, but was cut off as Francois rounded the corner, a sheathed Katana held in his hand and a squad of soldiers armed with Remington shotguns at his back.

  “I am here,” he said, his eyes glowing in the semi-darkness. “What has happened?”

  “Lord Du Guerre,” Pandora said with a smile. “It’s a pleasure to see you. My dear sister has overdone it in her rescue of my familiar, Ash.”

  Francois nodded to Pandora, barely acknowledging her formal greeting and handing his katana to one of the men behind him. “Ravenel? What is wrong?” he asked, taking her from Pandora’s embrace.

  “I used all my powers,” Raven muttered. “Tired.”

  “She needs to feed,” Ash said, his eyes worried.

  “I do not understand,” Francois said, scooping Raven into his arms as if she were a child. “Ravenel, what have you done?”

  “She isn’t like a full-blooded vampire, Lord Du Guerre,” Pandora explained. “She uses energy much more quickly than a true vampire or Embraced. And since she’s a mistress in her own right, it’s even worse for her. She must feed or she'll die.”

  “And you allowed her to do this? How dare you?” Francois snarled, showing fang.

  Not waiting for a reply, Francois turned and made his way back toward his waiting limousine and the suburban parked behind. He laid the semiconscious Raven on the seat and reached into the cooler where a bottle of champagne was cooling, next to four packets from a local blood bank. His eyes full of concern, he bit into the first of the packets and then squeezed the contents into Raven’s mouth. He watched as her eyes glowed and she sucked down the cool blood like a greedy child. She then sagged back into the seat, unconscious, but alive.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Raven awoke slowly, her eyes blurry and filled with pretty, sparkly lights. Her head was pounding and it felt as if an entire platoon of tanks were driving through her left eye, a sensation that made her gasp when she tried to move her head.

  “Ravenel?” Francois’ face came into view.

  “Yeah…yeah I’m here, Francois,” Raven whispered. “What happened?”

  “You almost died…again…” Francois said. “You must be more careful or I shall surely have a heart attack!”

  Raven smiled weakly. “You saving me is starting to become a habit.”

  “It isn’t a habit I mind,” Francois replied in more gentle tones. “But I am concerned with the frequency. Why did you not feed this night?”

  Raven frowned and closed her eyes, sinking back into what she now knew was Francois bed. “I rarely feed, Francois. I try to live like everyone else. I don’t need claret to survive so I don’t drink very often. It skeeves me out.”

  “You should at least have a reserve of some kind, Raven,” Francois replied. “I do not fully understand the nature of your abilities, but Pandora tells me you have master-level talent. You need to draw energy from the essence in human blood. When you use your talents, you are feeding on yourself rather than on claret. You could very easily die from that.”

  “I know that,” Raven snapped. “Another reason I hardly ever use them. Tonight I needed the speed and reflexes to save Ash and I pushed it a little too far. That’s all.”

  “That is not all!” Francois growled. “You should see yourself in a mirror. You look as if you have been on a hunger strike. Had I not understood your message, you would have died in my arms!”

  Raven opened her eyes to focus on Francois. The anger and worry in his face was plain. She reached out a hand to caress his face, ignoring how thin and pale her hand looked. He took her hand and kissed it gently.

  “I’m sorry,” she said after a moment. “I did what I needed to. I couldn’t let them hurt Ash.”

  “Your sister should have helped,” Francois replied. “Is she not of the same blood?”

  Raven shook her head. “Not exactly. She’s pureblood from a different father who was an Embraced. Her power isn’t as great as mine, even though I am a dhampyr.”

  “She still shouldn’t have let you go alone. I’ll speak with her,” Francois said. “She is of the blood, and you are precious to me. The two of you would have come out of there unscathed.”

  “Don’t be too hard on her,” Raven said, enjoying the feeling of Francois’ hand on her skin. “She does the best she can, and she’s the only member of the family who doesn’t treat me like some half-breed throwback. Her love is important to me.”

  “Perhaps because she is the only one of your family who understands. You share the common bond of being different.”

  “Maybe. So…try not to lock her in a coffin draped with crosses or anything, okay?”

  Francois frowned with mock seriousness. “That is my best punishment. I shall be reduced to beating her with wet noodles and making her walk on cheese puffs, but for you, I'll endure.” />
  Raven laughed. “Thank you.”

  Francois’ face softened and he leaned forward to kiss Raven, his lips lingering on hers for a long moment. When they parted, he said, “Get some sleep, Ravenel. I will call your office and tell them you will not be in tomorrow.”

  “I won’t?” Raven asked with surprise. “Says who?”

  “Says I,” Francois answered. “You have used too much of your energy in the last few days. You are weak and need to feed. My butler will see to your needs while you rest.”

  “I’ll be fine,” Raven said, immediately annoyed. “All I need is a good bowl of chicken soup.”

  “Chicken soup?” Francois asked, perplexed. “Chicken soup will not restore you to health, Ravenel. You need claret. You need blood.”

  “No,” Raven replied. “Chicken soup.”

  “Your needs will be seen to,” Francois said again. “Sleep and I will see you at dusk. Your mother and I must discuss this blatant attack on your family.”

  Raven continued to glare as Francois stood and left the room. Aside from being annoyed, the glare allowed her to watch Francois’ muscular backside as he left the room. A win-win scenario in all ways.

  II

  The sun was high and partially hidden by clouds when Raven pulled back the heavy curtains to Francois’ room and looked out at the city. This time she was dressed in a black bustier under a white satin jacket matched with black pants and boots. She hadn’t wanted to wear the expensive outfit, but learned that her previous garments had been sent out for cleaning at Francois’ orders and would not be ready for several days. Nothing in Francois’ spare wardrobe was an improvement over the clothing he had laid out for her, but at least the jacket had been cut to conceal her Automag.