Forged in Flame

by Rabe, Michelle

  “You wouldn’t?” Eric snatched the phone away from Morgan’s reaching fingers, keeping it out of her reach. “Really? We’re five now?”

  Morgan’s head snapped back as though she’d been slapped. She sounded offended when she said, “I am six, thank you very much. Now, are you going to tell me or must we continue behaving like children?”

  “Do you ever wonder what it would have been like?”

  “What?”

  “To marry and have children?”

  “In my time, marriage wasn’t about love, not even for commoners.” She closed her eyes and let her breath out in a sigh. “Marriage was about making the most advantageous match. Love might have entered into the arrangement at some point, but I don’t think it would have come close to what I feel for Nicholas.” Her smile appeared for a second before it melted into a frown, her brow pulled down into a scowl. “And you are avoiding the question. What is it on your phone that has you distracted?”

  “A text from a human friend.”

  “Texts from even human friends usually don’t get you this riled up.” She paused and studied his expression. Under her gaze, Eric fidgeted, glancing at the phone and then back at her a couple of times. He bit his lip and tapped a finger on the side of his phone. After a minute or two, Morgan shook her head and said, “Enough. What’s going on?”

  “He’s retired now, but, I asked him if he knew anyone working with SFPD.” Eric sighed, followed by a far off look. “He does.”

  “You’re checking into Daniel’s death?” she asked, surprised that her husband had requested a non-enforcer to look into the death of one. What does Nicholai suspect? She wondered as she turned and started heading back toward the car.

  “Yeah. Look, Nicholas hasn’t asked me to, but something just doesn’t sit right with me. I didn’t get to be a detective by trusting what’s written in a report.”

  Morgan had studied the young vampire for a couple of long moments before she nodded, understanding. “You want to go see him?”

  “Yeah, I do. I need to talk to him about someone who might be able to get the info I need.”

  “So you need to talk to one guy about another guy?”

  Eric raked a hand through his hair and stared at the ground, a very human gesture. “I need to talk to a guy about talking to a girl. She was my partner for years.”

  Morgan smiled, enjoying her protégé’s discomfort. She leaned back against the car, resting her hands on the hood and crossing her ankles. “And talking to this girl is a problem because?”

  “I haven’t seen her for ten years and we didn’t quite leave things on good terms.” Eric thought about the last conversation he’d had with Grace, the argument that had exploded. He closed his eyes. “In fact I’m ninety-nine point nine percent sure that she wants nothing to do with me.”

  “You won’t know whether or not things have changed unless you reach out to her.” Morgan laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Eric, if there’s more you’re not telling me, that’s okay. But, let me tell you this: you shouldn’t be afraid to reach out, you never know what might be waiting when you do.”

  He ducked out from under her hand and shook his head. “But what about you?”

  “I’m a big girl.” Morgan chuckled. “I know how to take care of myself, kid.”

  “Nicholas would kill me if something happened to you.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. I’ve got to have a chat with my husband about his protective streak. “Fine, why don’t we go back to the house? Once you know I’m safe and sound, you can go see a guy about talking to your girl.”

  “She was never my girl,” he grumbled to himself while approaching the passenger’s side of the car.

  Morgan pushed away from the vehicle and walked around to the driver’s side, her finger tapping the button to unlock the doors, a satisfied smile curling her lips.

  “Are you sure about that?” Eric asked.

  “Of course. The night is young. You shouldn’t be cooped up with the world champion worry wart.” She flashed a quick fang-baring smile and slid into the driver’s seat.

  Eric shook his head and got in. “You’re not a worry wart.”

  “Don’t argue with me.”

  “Thank you, Morgan.”

  Before starting the car, she turned to face him. “You may not be my Blood Son, but much like the boyos, I think of you as such. I want you to have fun. It’s clear to me that this young lady is important to you.” She shrugged. “See where it goes.”

  “What happened to… be careful?” He let out a short laugh and started in on his best bad Marcus imitation. “You’re a newbie vampire who can’t control his baser instincts.”

  She laughed and shook her head. “I’m not saying this is carte blanche to do as you please, but you do need some friends outside my circle. A time will come when people start asking questions and you’ll have to…” Morgan thought about it for a couple moments before she continued, “…appear to die. Having others who know what you are will help the transition when the timing is right.”

  “Are you saying that I should tell her the truth about me?”

  Morgan pulled back, a scandalized look in her eyes. “Gods no!” She shrugged. “Well, not at this stage of the game.”

  “So, what should I do?”

  She shook her head and started the car. “Just go see her!”

  Eric shook his head as she gunned the engine and slipped the car between two others in traffic, earning a long blast on the horn from behind them. “I take it we’re feeling better and all is right in Morgan’s little corner of the world?”

  “Yes and no.” She glanced over her shoulder and forced her way into the left lane. “It’s still weird, but I think you might be right. I just have to trust that Nicholas will make it home by morning. He’s a big boy and has done this kind of thing more times than I care to recall. I don’t see why tonight should be any different.” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eric nod, and she continued making her way back to Charles’s place.

  14 - San Francisco, CA - October 12, 2012

  Richard walked into the diner and looked around. In spite of the late hour, waitresses hustled around the room, trays of food weighing down their arms. Customers filled more than half the tables, some sitting alone though most held parties of two or more. He’d lived longer than normal humans and had seen many things change in his time, but the rise of twenty-four hour establishments was something he’d once found odd. Richard had never been a night owl, but three years of living on vampire time had changed that. When they were at home in Los Angeles, he knew where and when he could order a pizza at one in the morning or what to look for in a twenty-four hour eatery. If they were traveling, he knew how to find the best places to eat in most towns at strange hours.

  His faded denim eyes scanned the faces of the patrons until he found the one he wanted. With strawberry blond hair and eyes that matched his, no one could deny that he and Lisa were related. She glanced up from the table and found his eyes. Her eyes were rimmed with red, and dark bruise-like smudges underneath them. He crossed the diner and slid into the booth across from her.

  They sat in silence until the waitress stopped and asked for their orders. His sister’s soft alto voice had a slight tremor to it as she asked for a bacon cheeseburger, rare with French fries and a chocolate milkshake. He ordered a cup of black coffee and sat back waiting, knowing Lisa would speak when she was ready.

  “You look good, considering everything,” Lisa said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

  “What’s that supposed to mean… considering everything?” Richard asked though he had a good idea where her questions were headed. He needed her to say it, if they were going to get past the weirdness. Honesty with one another was the only way they were going to go forward.

  “Where you’ve been the past three years?” she asked. Richard leaned back in his seat and raised his eyebrows. Lisa had met his incredulous gaze for several seconds before she sighed. “Helping Morr
igan learn to control her abilities?” She spoke low enough that other patrons wouldn’t hear.

  How did she know the ancient pronunciation of Morgan’s name? Am I being paranoid or what? Tapping the index finger of his right hand on the table in front of him, he asked, “Is this…” Richard gestured to her and around the room. “…your attempt to stop me? Is that why you called?”

  “I wish you would reconsider.” Lisa looked hopeful for a second before clasping her hands on the table in front of her. “But I know you won’t.”

  “If all you wanted to talk about was my decision…” His voice trailed off, and he reached into the inner pocket of his jacket and started pulling out his wallet. “I’m leaving. I won’t change my mind.”

  “It’s about Jarreth,” Lisa answered, referring to their youngest brother.

  For as long as Richard could remember, Jarreth had been nothing but trouble. The epitome of a black sheep of the family, as it were. He’d never gotten along well with his brother, and his decision to aid Morgan had made their relationship even worse. “Looks like nothing has changed with him. Did he pull some stupid stunt? Do you expect me to pull his ass out of the fire?” he asked.

  “He’s fallen in with the Order,” she whispered as though speaking the words would bring bad luck.

  “Do you mean the Order of the Black Rose?” Richard asked as he sent his power outward. His nimble mind spun the required energies into a shield that would keep their conversation private. He knew it would take some energy to sustain, but it was worth the effort. If their brother had joined The Order, it meant that Jarreth must believe the curse could only be broken with the death of every vampire on earth. In their heyday, The Order didn’t play around. They were militant and there was no way out once initiates had been inducted. Conventional wisdom among the members of The Conclave and vampire community says that The Order of the Black Rose died about three hundred years ago. They must have gone underground. What has little brother gotten himself into?

  She glanced down at her hands, at the other diners, eyes scanning the room and anywhere but at her brother. Richard remained silent, waiting for her answer. “Yes.”

  Richard shook his head and sighed. “Why?”

  “He thinks you’re wrong. That the key to our family’s freedom doesn’t lie with helping her,” Lisa answered. Richard had to fight to keep his anger in check. The family had argued about this on several occasions and in the end Richard had been forced to use his position as head of the family to convince his siblings to follow his course.

  “He thinks the only way to break the curse is to annihilate all vampires?”

  “We both do,” she growled. This was the kind of fight he’d come prepared for, and Lisa wouldn’t disappoint. “You’re the only one who disagrees.”

  “Then, why are you here?” Richard asked as the waitress returned with their order.

  She waited until the waitress dropped off their food and left before she answered, “I’m worried about Jarreth.” Her face contorted into a mask of frustration and anger.

  “Our brother was able to get himself into this mess,” Richard said between tight lips, not caring that it made him look petty. Worried about dear Jarreth, little sister. What about me? Do you think that it’s been easy living among vampires for the past three years plus a few months? Do I figure anywhere in your equation? Richard thought even as he fought to keep from speaking his mind. “It’s his responsibility to get the hell out of it.”

  “I don’t think it’s that simple,” she whispered, eyes downcast.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He’s changed. I don’t think he’ll listen to reason.” She played with a French fry. “You’re the head of the family. No matter what has happened, you can talk to him. You’re the only one who has a chance to make him see reason.” Her desperation became palpable, like some kind of nasty slime slithering its way down the back of his throat.

  “What makes you think he’ll even talk to me?” Richard had no illusions.

  “He said he would,” she answered, her voice softer than ever.

  “You talked to him about it?” he hissed just above the level of a stage whisper. Across the table, Lisa seemed to shrink back as if she could become part of the vinyl seat and escape her brother’s temper.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?” Richard planted his hands on the table feeling his muscles strain as he pushed against it. “You know what the Order is about. You know who I’m instructing and why. What do you think I can say to him that would make the slightest difference?”

  “God, Richard, I don’t know.” Lisa threw her arms up in frustration. “I just know that I only have the two of you in this world, and I don’t want to lose either one.” Her desperate plea fractured his heart. “Please, just talk to him. I’m afraid of what might happen if he gets in too deep.”

  Richard watched a sheen of tears shimmering at the edges of Lisa’s eyes. He realized she had been worrying, agonizing over the decision for days, maybe even weeks. Which explained her expression before he’d joined her at the table. “Have you tried to make him see reason?” he asked, fighting to keep his tone neutral and calming.

  “Jarreth won’t listen. He doesn’t believe I can make these kinds of decisions on my own. I am just a woman, after all.” A tiny part of the spirit that Richard knew dwelled within his sister showed as she spoke. Richard and Lisa had done their best to move away from their parents’ beliefs, while Jarreth had not. He sighed and sipped his coffee—sharp with a bitter tang helping to focus his thoughts. Richard closed his eyes, what will it hurt to talk to him? “I can’t promise anything,” he said.

  “You’ll talk to him? You’ll try?” The hope in her voice resonated enough to crush the last bit of resistance that lay deep in Richard’s heart.

  “I’ll do my best. But, sis, if he doesn’t respond to my overture, I can’t force the issue. Even though I believe I’m doing the right thing, I can’t make our brother come around to my thinking. He’s too bullheaded, and I won’t force my opinion on anyone,” he said, trying to get Lisa to understand. Richard wondered if she realized that results of the conversation depended solely on Jarreth’s willingness to listen.

  “I think he’ll see reason if you talk to him.” Hope blossomed and a smile curled her lips.

  “We’ll see.” Richard paused, wanting to change the subject. “What about you, little sister? How are you?”

  “I’d be better if you two weren’t at odds.”

  “I’ll see what I can do about that,” Richard repeated with a soft, sad laugh. He didn’t see any harm in doing what he could to placate his sister’s worries. If their brother had joined the Order of the Black Rose, he was already lost to them.

  “Thank you, Richard,” Lisa whispered. She bit into her burger with more gusto than necessary. Richard smiled, knowing she rarely ate enough. Stress made it worse. Seeing her appetite improve made his promise worth it.

  The siblings spent the next two hours catching up, tiptoeing around possible sources of confrontation. While they visited, the night had grown colder and puffs of steam accompanied each exhalation.

  He watched Lisa drive away, wondering when he’d see her again. She would head to the airport and then back to the East Coast, where her own life remained far away from the insanity that his had become. Richard took a deep breath and let it out on a slow ten count. Seeing Lisa had brought up emotions he wasn’t ready to process yet. He needed to talk to Jarreth and see where his brother stood before he could begin to deal with all of the ramifications of the younger sibling’s involvement with the Order.

  “Only for you will I do this, sister,” he whispered to her retreating car. Pulling out his cell phone, he dialed the number she’d given him. When voicemail picked up, Richard left a message for his brother, giving a time and place to meet the following afternoon. God, I’m going to be exhausted by the time we head back to Los Angeles if this shit keeps up.

  15 - San Francisco, CA - Octob
er 12, 2012

  Someone touched Nicholas’s shoulder and rolled him over on his back. His attacker’s disguise of a homeless man had disappeared. In its place were dark cargo pants, a polo shirt and combat boots. As Nicholas watched, the man removed a handkerchief and wiped the fake dirt from his face and neck revealing a smattering of pale strawberry freckles over his cheeks and forehead. The Lead Enforcer found himself looking into recognizable denim blue eyes, ones he’d let into his home and life for the past three years.

  Impossible. Richard is with family tonight. Or at least that’s what he told Morgan. A man Nicholas had trusted drew a small black case out of a pocket along the leg of his black cargo pants. Richard smiled and unzipped the case. The movement of his hand revealed a tattoo of a small black rose on the back of his hand. That’s either something he’s hidden for three years or this isn’t Richard.

  “You stumbled upon the wrong person, vampire,” the man said with a snarl. There was something familiar in the accent, tone and tenor of the words but Nicholas’s scattered mind couldn’t make the connection. “You’re not the one I wanted, but you’ll do.” As he spoke, he withdrew an antique syringe from the case he carried. “I know human doctors always say you’ll only feel a little prick, but I’ve never bought that line of crap. How about you?” He fitted the large gauge needle onto the syringe.

  Just keep talking, you arrogant son of a bitch. Whatever the hell you gave me will wear off, and I’ll take great pleasure in kicking your human ass before I take you out. Nicholas thought.

  “I’m sorry. I forgot you can’t respond. Don’t worry about this wearing off. My people know how to deal with your kind. What I injected you with isn’t going to stop working anytime soon.” The man, who closely resembled Richard, pushed his jacket aside and tore open the collar of Nicholas’s shirt, exposing his chest and the holster on his shoulder. The man frowned at the weapon, his brows knitting together. “How interesting. I thought you guys didn’t use guns. Something about no honor in killing from a distance or some arcane crap like that.”