I only hoped that neither of them was able to detect the dreamscape still coursing through my veins. Selena, because she might rip my throat out to get a taste of it, and Simon because…well, it was illegal. We were friends, had trained together in fact, but I didn’t know if he’d put up with something as serious as dreamscape. It would be an interesting evening indeed. I started the car and pulled a u-turn heading back into the heart of the Second City towards Selena’s house.
* * *
The gate to Selena’s long, twisting driveway stood open. The last time I had been here there were human guards that checked everyone that entered. Now the guard shack on the left that stood just outside the sandstone-colored barrier was empty. The camera on top still swiveled back and forth, the red light under its lens an unblinking eye staring into the night. I paused briefly before passing through the entryway, looking at the metal gate that hung to the right like an invitation.
Cars were parked along both sides of the driveway, but there were fewer of them than usual. Scanning the cars as I passed, I looked for any sign of Simon. He should have arrived already, and I knew he wouldn’t go in without me. In the same way that he was showing Selena respect by coming to her, he would show the same courtesy to me by waiting for the Inquisitor of this city to accompany him. Near the front of the line I spotted a silver BMW with a man sitting in the driver’s seat. I pulled to the opposite side and parallel parked between a Jaguar and a Mercedes. The lowly Honda was hopelessly outclassed here among cars that cost as much as my house had.
After giving myself a perfunctory glance in the rearview to make sure my eyes were close to their normal state, I got out, locking the car behind me. There wasn’t a much safer place in the city than the master vampire’s home, but old habits died hard. Simon walked to the middle of the drive and waited for me to join him.
“It’s good to see you again, little brother,” he said, and shook my hand. He had always called me some variation of brother, even though we had no blood relation. Coming from anyone else it might have been insulting, but with Simon I always did feel like a little brother, as if I were just tagging along on his big adventures. We had become fast friends in our training with the Inquisition, earning each other’s respect. And even though we hadn’t seen each other in a long time, I knew that that would never change.
“You too, Simon,” I said. “Shall we go inside? We wouldn’t want to keep the mistress of the house waiting.” I turned to go, but Simon caught my arm.
“Hang on a sec.” He smiled and released my arm. Even in the low light of the cloud-shrouded night, and hidden behind the chiseled millionaire-playboy good looks I could see an air of tension about him. It was in the strained smile he gave me, and the way he tried too hard to achieve his casual, slightly slouched stance. “We should talk before we go in. The ears in there hear all.” He glanced over his shoulder at the mansion.
“Are you okay?” I asked, a frown coming to me with a new sense of nervousness.
“We have to be careful once we get in there, and I want you to be prepared.” He ran a hand through his gelled auburn hair. “Ever since Ezekiel betrayed Selena she has been intent on restoring order.”
“I know, but she’s keeping everything in-house.” Selena’s former second-in-command, Ezekiel, had betrayed her in an attempt to take control of the vampires in the city. He had been a power-mad creature, twisted beyond reason by an addiction to dreamscape; though I knew from past dealings that he had never been completely sane.
Vampires were a lot like humans still in that they had a wide range of personalities and characteristics. Still, for general purposes they could be grouped into two categories: the lovers and the monsters. The lovers, as I liked to call them, cultivated their ‘heirs’ for their looks, their ability to attract prey. They typically concentrated on evolving their mind control techniques before anything else. Selena and her closest servants were definitely in that class.
Ezekiel, on the other hand, was pure monster. They chose their ‘heirs’ by their lust for power and dominance. But even among them, Ezekiel was an extreme case. If vampires were still human, he was a serial killer, a thing twisted by bloodlust and the surety of his superiority. To him, humans were nothing more than a food source. If any of his humanity remained it had been buried beneath centuries of depravity. Most of the vampire community had tried to curtail beings like Ezekiel ever since the war, but things like him had a habit of being hard to keep restrained.
I had been a key player in undoing Ezekiel’s plans on Selena’s throne. I had killed him, but that hadn’t been enough for her. In the weeks that followed rumors reached me that Selena had begun a purge on all vampires that had been loyal to him. Soon, after those targets had been eliminated, it changed to include friends of his. Now it included anyone suspected of harboring any of the same views that he did. Even their private thoughts could damn them if the vengeful vampire master caught a glimpse of something treasonous with her powers.
Technically none of this involved the Supernatural Enforcement Committee. The vampires kept their own laws and enforced them ruthlessly, but it made me uneasy to say the least. The humans didn’t care when the vamps or wolves killed their own. They never said it as directly as that, of course, but the human-vampire accords that were created after the war showed the public’s apathy for any crimes committed between paranormal races. If a vampire master decided to kill his or her children, then all the better as far as they were concerned. It was called an “internal matter” and dismissed quickly. We in the Inquisition weren’t much better as we still didn’t consider it a crime for a master or an alpha to destroy their own. We tried to adjudicate matters, but if Selena had judged that the threat to her rule was substantial, she could deal with it as she saw fit and I would abide by her decision.
“Of course she’s keeping it in-house,” he snapped. “When you killed Ezekiel you made her appear weak in the eyes or her enemies. Or at least that’s how she sees it. She needs to make a statement that her throne is secure without bringing you back into the equation.” He saw the confusion in my eyes and elaborated. “You killed the one who challenged her. She owes you a debt now that you acted on her behalf, but she also needs to prove that she didn’t need your help in the first place. It’s a fine line to walk, but she has chosen her path.”
The way he was going over things I had already worked out on my own and his belligerent tone forced an irritated edge into my voice as I said, “Do you have a point?”
“Do you remember the story of Hanan?”
I shuddered and nodded. It was a story that all Inquisitors learned to show the true unpredictability of vampires. Hanan was one of the ancient vampires, risen from the old Egyptian empire and just as mysterious. He had created a small enclave for himself in what is now southern Cambodia in the fourteenth century. He and his progeny ruled the countryside, terrorizing populaces along the coast. The vampires were nomadic, never staying in one place too long, never giving the people a chance to strike back. It went on like this for decades, until one night when Hanan decided to take a young girl as his meal. She was barely old enough to walk, and couldn’t of held enough blood to sate Hanan’s thirst for more than a day, yet he had decided that this girl was the one he wanted. As Hanan absconded with the child, one of his subordinates stepped into the room and faced him. The story doesn’t mention why the vampire chose this time to disobey his master. Perhaps the child in his master’s arms reminded him of a family he had not long ago. But regardless, the lowly vampire attacked Hanan with a branch that he had sharpened into a stake and drove it through Hanan’s heart. While Hanan lay wounded on the floor of the hut, the vampire returned the child to its makeshift bed. An ancient, though, is not so easily dispatched. While the young vampire saw to the child, Hanan removed the stake and got to his feet. He killed the one who stood against him and fled into the night.
The following day brought madness to Hanan. He began to see treachery everywhere he looked. In his eyes the
y were all possible betrayers. While they slept the day away, he sought out their resting places—mostly huts and small cave-like dwellings—and tore the protection away, exposing the resting vampires to the sunlight. The younger ones died straight away, but the older ones, possessed of Hanan’s blood put up a fight. Hanan tore through them like only an ancient could. In the end, Hanan killed all of his children and fled into the jungle, never to be heard from again. Some say he died from prolonged exposure to the sunlight while he did his grim work. Even the ancients have their limits when it comes to direct sunlight after all. Some think that he merely went to live alone, never to be close enough to anyone that could betray him again.
“No,” I said, shaking my head. “Selena isn’t like that. I’m sure the rumors are worse than the actuality.”
Simon squinted at me as if he suddenly couldn’t recognize me. I understood why. It was strange even to me that I was sticking up for a vampire master, making believe that she was just misunderstood. But Selena was a good master for the vampires, and I had come to realize that not too long ago. She was a practitioner of the old ways, but she also knew how to work within the confines of the government’s laws. In the rare cases when one of her children broke the law, she made sure punishment was administered quickly and judiciously. I knew many Inquisitors that would give their left arm for a master vampire like Selena in their city.
“Let’s hope you’re right,” he said, and smiled weakly. Then he waved a hand as if dismissing the last topic of conversation and moving on to the next. “Anyway, when we go in just let me do the talking, okay? I’m the one auditioning for her approval, and with you here she might feel as if she has to prove that she is still in control. Just follow my lead and hope that this is quick.”
He led the way up the stone steps to the house. The doors opened as we reached the top step, light spilling out onto the steps and into the yard. The sounds of revelry drifted through the parted doorway, soft music and softer conversation permeated the house and spun into the night air. A woman stepped into view, tall and beautiful, with light skin that was accentuated by the midnight-blue dress she wore. A plunging neckline revealed a golden pendent in the shape of an ankh hanging between her breasts, the glint of it fading as she stepped out of the light cast by the open door. She fiddled with it absently as she waved us inside. I tried my hardest not to notice.
“Hello, Clara,” I said as we walked in. She shut the door behind us.
“Mr. Goldman, always a pleasure.” A small smile played over her ruby lips. It faded as she turned to my companion. “Simon,” she said frostily. He bowed in front of her, deep and formal. She ignored him and regarded me. “Mistress Selena is attending to some guests at the moment, but she shouldn’t be long. I will escort you to the library where the meeting will take place. Please feel free to sample anything from the bar while you wait. As always our house is a safe haven for members of the Inquisition, so feel at peace while you are here. May I take your coats?” Simon and I shook our heads in unison. An offer of safe haven was nice, but I for one would always keep my weapons with me.
We followed her down the length of the vaulted hallway. Everything about this place screamed money and old-fashioned charm, from the polished hardwood floors to the paintings lining the walls that were lit from beneath with soft, understated lights. Two small antique chandeliers hung at opposite ends of the hall, electric candles replacing the wax ones. The library was the last door on the left. Clara ushered us in and closed the door behind us. I waited for the sound of a lock clicking into place, but thankfully it never came.
There were four chairs placed in a half-circle around a massive fireplace on the left side of the room. From the look of it the hearth hadn’t been used in quite a while. I silently imagined vampires seated around it, pretending to soak up the heat it offered to their undead flesh. Towering bookshelves filled to bursting with weathered tomes lined the windowless walls. Looking up, I saw that the ceiling was covered with an artist’s rendition of two angels battling in a field of clouds, fiery swords and golden shields held in a wary battle posture. I was reminded of the effigy painted on Paulo’s apartment. This was as beautiful as that had been horrible. Both elicited deep-seated feelings in the viewer, but where the gaping demon had inspired fear and revulsion this fostered awe and anticipation, as if at any moment the angels would spring to life and finish their duel. It was a fitting visage in Selena’s manor.
Simon and I sat next to each other in the leather bound chairs and waited. Neither of us even considered taking anything from the bar which was set at the far end of the room. Accepting even the smallest of courtesies here could have unseen consequences. Blindly taking a vampire’s offers often ended with that person owing the vampire something, whether he or she knew it or not.
Fifteen uneventful minutes passed before Simon tilted his head. “Our hostess arrives…finally,” he whispered and stood. His supernaturally acute hearing gave him advanced warning, so I followed his lead. A moment later the door to the library swung open revealing Selena with Clara close behind.
The lady of the manor swung her gaze right past me and pinned it on Simon, her eyes glowing like liquid amber. “I thought I had made myself perfectly clear to you the last time we spoke.”
“You did,” Simon said, unmoved by her obvious anger. “I rarely misunderstand a death threat.”
I looked at him and raised an eyebrow in question. He noticed and merely shrugged.
She walked toward him slowly, a storm barely contained behind her petite form and glowing eyes. Clara came up beside her master and placed a hand on her shoulder. I moved between her and Simon, intercepting Selena while she was still six feet away. The full intensity of that glare fell on me for a moment and it was like a hammer-blow. Her power danced along my skin like a shower of broken glass, and it was her will that decided whether I would be cut to ribbons or not. It suddenly became hard to breathe. I could feel her searching me for my intent, my reason for stepping between them. It wasn’t anything overt like mental magic, more like a predator reading body language and posture. After a long moment she looked away and turned away from the two of us, the power fading with it. A frenzied breath hissed through my lips as the phantom weight was lifted from my chest.
Clara accompanied Selena to the two chairs opposite the ones that Simon and I had been sitting in. Once they sat so did we. Selena and Clara were exact opposites when it came to looks, but both were stunning. Selena was petite and curvy, her Mexican ancestry proudly displayed in the angles of her features. Raven-black hair hung in a bound tail to the middle of her back. The dark crimson dress she wore left large swatches of coffee-colored skin exposed to the warm air. Clara, by contrast, was tall and slender like a runway model. Her blond hair was cut short to just below her ears, framing her face perfectly. Blue eyes sparkled at me like the brightest sapphires as she looked at me from her place on the chair across from me. Now that Ezekiel was dead she had become Selena’s second in command, or Bloodletter if one were to use the old title. She lacked his overt ruthlessness, but something about her put me on edge. Perhaps it was just the fact that Selena thought she was strong enough to be her second that set my alarm bells to ringing.
“You perform a fool’s errand bringing him before me, Inquisitor Goldman,” Selena said, her voice low and dangerous.
I looked from her to Simon and back again. “What am I missing here?”
Simon ignored me and spoke up. “I come of my own accord, Selena, and believe me I wouldn’t be here unless it was absolutely necessary.”
“And why send you?” Selena asked, quirking a thin slash of an eyebrow at him. I didn’t need my Second Sight to know that power was reverberating between the two of them. “Inquisitor Goldman is more than capable of handling Oakland’s affairs, and that is not something I would say lightly.”
“I agree,” Simon said, amiably. “But this has to do with something I have first-hand experience with, not his capabilities. He needs the experience I
can bring if nothing else.”
“I’m sitting right here you know,” I said, tired of being discussed as if I wasn’t in the room.
They both glanced at me briefly and then went back to arguing. Clara gave me a shrug, as if to say what can you do? I smiled despite myself and she returned it, those eyes as bright and deep as the ocean twinkling back at me. A raised voice brought me back to myself. It was Selena.
“I will not allow you entry into my lands. If the Committee deems it necessary to send someone to aid Mr. Goldman then let them send someone else.”
“Mistress,” Simon said through clenched teeth. “I humbly request that you reconsider. This matter is of great importance, and may prove hazardous to your own house.”
Selena narrowed her eyes as if trying to spy the lie in his words. “Now that my house is rid of that foul traitor Ezekiel and those of his ilk we are at the height of our power. We have nothing to fear here.”
Simon smiled. It was tired and sickly looking, making Selena edge back in her chair ever-so-slightly. “I was glad to hear the news of his ouster. He and those like him gave up anything remotely human about themselves long ago. But there are still things you should fear, mistress. Things like necromancy.”
The word hung over our group like a poison-filled balloon. Necromancy was feared more by vampires than any other group of paras. The path that vampires tread was one between life and death, but technically they had died. Throughout the ages stories had surfaced of necromancers that could control vampires with their magic. Over the centuries rogue necromancers—those that had disregarded the laws of magic—had become the boogeyman of the vampiric race, turning into a tangled web of myth and suspicion. But most believed that, like most fables, there was a thread of truth to it.
Selena’s expression turned thoughtful for a moment before she turned to me. “Is it true? Is there a necromancer in Oakland?”
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