Forged in Flame

by Rabe, Michelle

  Morgan frowned, “What do you mean, grew a brain?”

  Nicholas shook his head, “He’s more careful and hasn’t left a clue we could trace since the night after we arrived in the city. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was getting help.”

  “Why not?” Morgan asked. “Why can’t he be getting help?”

  “It would have to be one of Samair’s people, and they’re on notice. They know I’m involved, so it would be foolish for them to get involved, Morgan.”

  “Their Sire’s not exactly a brain trust,” she said with a shrug, “That being said, he surrounds himself with strong people. I can’t see any of them being this stupid. So, maybe you need to look beyond Samair’s people.” Morgan smiled, liking the idea that her insights might be helping.

  “Beyond?”

  “Yes, I know you don’t like him, and to be honest, neither do I, but, is it possible that you’re trying to lay this at his feet because you’re really looking for a reason to get rid of him?” Morgan suggested, her mind turning over possibilities no matter how remote.

  “He treats his people like crap,” Nicholas said. “Any Dynastic vampire would have been entombed for half the shit I can prove he’s done.”

  Morgan shook her head and gently combed her fingers through his sandy hair. “That doesn’t mean he’s at the heart of all of this.”

  “So, if I look beyond Samair, what am I left with?”

  “Jayson.”

  “Just the kid.” He sighed and turned to fully face her, straddling the bench.

  “Yes, just him,” she confirmed taking his hands in hers.

  Nicholas closed his eyes and dropped his head forward, shaking it. “I think this is going to be a bigger pain in my ass than I expected.”

  They were silent for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts. Nicholas leaned forward and rested his head on Morgan’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

  “You mentioned the pattern has changed?” she asked, breaking the silence.

  “Yeah. Either he’s gotten help from somewhere or two vampires are at work.” Nicholas sat back and watched her eyes clear.

  “Can I make what may seem like a radical suggestion, without you flipping out on me?”

  “Go ahead, my love. I’m open to anything at this point.” His eyes narrowed and he inched away from her on the bench.

  “I know it’s beyond normal procedures.” She paused, giving him a moment to consider her words before she pushed ahead. “You’ve got access to a trained investigator. Why not make use of his talents?”

  “You mean Eric.” It was a statement, not a question. He furrowed his brow, in thought

  “I mean Eric.” Morgan nodded. “He’s an asset at your disposal.”

  “It’s not how we do things. He’s not an Enforcer.” Nicholas shook his head, a puzzled look crossing his whole face.

  “So what?” Morgan tilted his head up with a finger under his chin. “You’re the Assassin. Don’t you get to make up the rules as you go along?”

  “You think he might be able to help?”

  “I do. Even if he can’t, at least you’ve tried. Who knows? Maybe something will fall into place, and you’ll figure it out.”

  “You sound worried, love,” Nicholas whispered.

  “I am,” she confessed. “I haven’t seen you at loose ends like this for a very long time.” She took a deep breath and continued, “What’s really bothering you?”

  “Everything. Jayson, The Order of the Black Rose making its return. Finding out that Richard’s brother is a Knight.” He stood and started pacing the area around the piano circling it like a predator with wounded prey. “And that’s just what I know about. Part of me thinks I should ask you to go back to LA. Or better yet, go hole up in the Council’s compound. As my wife, you can do that now that everyone knows.” He frowned and shook his head. “But that’s no good. Lucian is there.”

  “I love you, but sometimes you take on and worry too much.” She rubbed her forehead as if wishing away a headache.

  “I’m not going to stop worrying about you or my duty.”

  “One of the reasons you’re so good at what you do is because you care. I wouldn’t want you to go about business as if no danger existed.” She stood and put herself in his path. When Nicholas tried to step past her, she caught his arm and held him tight. “Love, you need to ask for help.”

  Nicholas stared at her for a moment, a puzzled expression on his face as if she’d spoken in an unknown language. “I already have. I believe Eric went to see a friend about the situation this evening.”

  “You let me go through all of that when you’d already asked him?” Morgan shoved his shoulders and stepped back, Nicholas caught her around the waist and held her in place.

  “Ha. You were making such a compelling argument, I didn’t want to interrupt you.”

  “Sometimes you’re a jerk, you know that?” A slight smiled curled her lips and her voice had dropped to a lower sultry register.

  “You are fond of reminding me when I lapse, my love.”

  “Do you want to call Marcus? See if he’ll come to town? Maybe have Charles come up too? I can have James and Danny take over the day-to-day at the Dracul. They managed well enough while I was vacationing in Insanityland and the boys went to New Orleans to help look for me.”

  “Maybe,” Nicholas sighed, “I’ll give the Old Man a call tomorrow. Don’t worry about Charles yet. If we need him, it’s not a long flight from Los Angeles up here. Hell, he could make the drive in one night if absolutely necessary.”

  “Good. Now, for the rest of the day, you’re not allowed to worry. You need to get a fresh perspective. Dwelling on the situation won’t do anyone any good.”

  “Any thoughts on how to distract me?”

  “I could tell you all about what’s been happening at The Dracul.”

  “Troubles?” He asked as Morgan led him back to the piano bench.

  “Nothing out of the ordinary.” She shrugged and sat down in front of the piano, running her fingers over the ivory keys. “The same old song and dance every night.”

  Nicholas sat beside her and began playing a soft melancholy melody. “So, why are Charles and the wolves reporting?”

  “Because I like being kept in the loop.” Morgan giggled. “That, and I think they like keeping tabs on me.”

  “Why?”

  “Yep. Since New Orleans, I think they’ve all become overprotective.”

  “We all are,” he said and resumed playing a tune she didn’t recognize though he studied her, not the keys. “I know you want things back to the way they were, and I can respect that, but you also have to know that we worry about you for good reason.”

  “I do.” She leaned against him, closing her eyes. “I think we’ve found an acceptable balance.”

  “So, what do you have planned for this coming evening?”

  “I thought I’d go see a couple of old friends after my lesson with Richard.”

  “Would these old friends be Nomads?”

  “Yes.”

  “Love?” he asked but continued in a gentle tone without allowing time for her answer, “Are you planning to stir up trouble for the Lord of San Francisco?”

  She sat up and looked at him through half-closed eyes. “I never said anything about making trouble.”

  “I know you, Morgan.”

  “So you know I’ll be careful,” she said with an innocent smile curling her lips.

  “But you are planning to stir up some trouble,” he said even though he already knew.

  “If I open a location here, there’s no way I’m going to deal with his bullshit.”

  “Sounds more like self-preservation,” he muttered the concession, knowing he should tread lightly to avoid pissing Morgan off.

  “Yes. That and you’re right. He needs to go.”

  Nicholas shook his head and the music shifted to something with a faster tempo, a feeling of urgency and a darker tone. “I’m not sure I like this.�
�

  “Are you going to stop me?” Morgan asked.

  “It’s not that.” Glancing at her, brow furrowed, he said, “I’m not certain that I like the…” another short pause as he found the right word, “…precedent it sets.”

  “No one will know I’m involved.” She held one hand up touching her thumb and pinky.

  “Love, you were never a boy scout.” Taking her hand in his, he kissed the back of it, while adding, “And those sound like famous last words to me.”

  She rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue for a second before laughing. “I’m not going to come out and announce that he needs to be removed. Despite the fact that he most definitely does.”

  Nicholas sighed, knowing he wouldn’t win against Morgan’s stubborn streak. “You know I can’t order you to leave him alone.”

  “I know.” She reached out and put her fingers under his chin, turning his head to face her. “But if you ask me to, I’ll lay off.” She shrugged. “Open the new club on the East Coast.”

  “You know I won’t ask you to walk away because I know why you want to open the new club here. Besides, I trust you to be sneaky enough that your name will never come up or cross that lounge lizard’s mind.”

  Morgan sighed and tilted her head to the left. “Is he still rockin’ the late seventies and early eighties look?” She packed more disdain into her words than Nicholas thought possible.

  “Oh yeah.”

  She shrugged and shook her head. “He must die for his insult to fashion alone.”

  “Come on.” Nicholas stood and offered her a hand. “We both need to get some more sleep before dark.”

  “You’re thinking about sleep?”

  Nicholas pulled Morgan close and nipped at her neck. “As much as I enjoy other bedroom activities with my wife, we both have busy nights ahead of us. A decent day’s sleep is required.” She slid her arms around his waist. Nicholas closed his eyes and a low moan escaped his throat along with the rest of his sentence, “Though not preferred.”

  22 – San Francisco CA – October 20, 2012

  The next evening when Eric walked into the coffee shop that Grace had recommended, he smiled. Taking a deep breath, he savored the sharp, almost nutty, scent of brewing coffee, the salty tang of bacon mixing with the myriad of other scents he expected from a diner. If he’d thought about it, he would have known what to expect from a location that she had made her second home. It wasn’t hip or trendy, just a small twenty-four hour hole-in-the-wall joint that hadn’t seen a decorator since it first opened some thirty or so years before.

  He strolled to the back and slid into a booth that was in desperate need of an upholsterer. When the waitress approached, she wore jeans and a black T-shirt, her apron and order pad the only indication that she was, in fact, an employee.

  “What can I get ya?” she asked, between smacks of her gum.

  Eric raised an eyebrow and wondered if his former partner was pulling a fast one on him, but decided against it. “Coffee, strong and black.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Not right now. I’m waiting for a friend.”

  “You got it.” She turned on her heel and sashayed away.

  Eric sat back in his seat and began scanning the place. A few other patrons were scattered around at the worn tables; none of them screamed cop to his trained eye.

  I wonder if my coffee will arrive before Grace gets here?

  The waitress had stopped to talk with another customer, gum now making small pink bubbles in front of her lips every so often. He rolled his eyes at the clichéd ridiculousness. Tapping one finger on the scratched surface of the table, he pulled his phone out of his pocket and started reading over the notes he’d made working from the information gathered from the internet. Along with the provided details from Nicholas. “A whole lotta nothing when it comes down to it,” he muttered under his breath, scrolling as though he might see something he missed one of the fifteen or twenty times he’d looked at it since asking Grace for help. “If it was just an accident, then the timing was damned convenient.”

  “Still talking to yourself?” Grace’s voice drifted down to him.

  Eric laughed and hit the button to turn his phone off before he tilted his head up to look at her. “And you still have a knack for finding hole-in-the-wall eateries.”

  “Hey, they always have good food.”

  Checking his watch, he said, “I’ve been here for fifteen minutes and have yet to see my bloody cup of coffee.”

  “That’s because you look like a tourist.”

  “Normally that’s not a bad thing.” He rolled his eyes. “Back home it wasn’t, and if I remember right, New Orleans is something of a tourist destination.”

  “Smart ass,” she said while sliding into the booth across the table from him, a file folder clutched in one hand.”

  “Is that what I think it is?” His eyes seemed to pierce the file as she put it on the table.

  “It’s the report on the accident you asked me about.” She didn’t move her hand from the top of the file, waiting.

  “And?”

  “If the guy was as into cars as you said, I’m not so sure this was just an accident.” She frowned, her brows dipping low.

  Eric tilted his head to the right and raised his brows. “What do you mean?”

  “Most car guys, especially car guys with money, would have noticed that the brake lines were going out.” Grace made a dismissive gesture with her hand. “Yeah, it was made to look like they’d worn through, so the investigating officers weren’t willing to look beyond the obvious.”

  “Weren’t willing?”

  “Yeah, I went and talked to them about it.” Grace shook her head as though unable to believe the words were coming from her mouth. “Their lieutenant didn’t want to do anything either. I got nothin’ but static about how accidents happen, and I shouldn’t be looking for trouble where there isn’t any. You know, the usual blah, blah, blah.”

  Eric shook his head and sighed, having been on the receiving end of those talks a time or two himself. “Shit, Grace, I’m sorry.”

  She waved off his apology. “It’s cool, but there’s something I don’t get at all. Call it a hunch, but I’ve got a feeling there’s more to this than you’re telling me too, so it isn’t just the investigators who are giving me the runaround, huh?”

  “Because there is,” he said before he could stop himself.

  “So, talk to me.”

  “I can’t.” He leaned back and scrubbed his hand over his face, using the time to think up something plausible. “I’m under a kind of nondisclosure agreement.”

  She studied him, eyes narrowing. “Why are you in town?”

  “I can’t tell you.”

  “Then I’m outta here.” She stood. “Have a nice life, Kincade.”

  He stayed at the table and folded his hands over the file she’d left for him and fought to keep his seat. “Grace, please. I need you to understand.”

  “Understand what?” she snapped.

  “Not here,” Eric said in a stage whisper.

  “If you’re not going to be straight with me, I don’t want to hear it.” She turned on her heels and Eric watched as she stalked out of the coffee shop.

  Come on, Gracie, look back. If you look back, I’ll figure out a way to tell you everything and keep both of us safe. For the first time in three years, Eric wanted to open up to someone who wasn’t a vampire. As Grace left the cafe and disappeared into the night, the server set a mug on the table and poured aromatic coffee into it.

  “Want anything else?”

  “No,” Eric turned his attention back to the file on the table. “Thanks, I’m good.” He focused on the report, but the voice in the back of his head kept distracting him. After a few minutes, he checked the time on his phone and frowned. “Shit. I need to go.” He threw a ten on the table, gathered up all of his things and jogged out of the coffee shop.

  An hour later Morgan wove the car through the d
owntown streets of San Francisco, focusing on driving and not chatting. Eric shifted in his seat, feeling tension rising in the vehicle that he wasn’t used to when dealing with his mentor. After about five minutes, he couldn’t stand it anymore; he had to break the silence.

  “So, where are we going?” he asked, hoping to draw her out.

  She glanced over at him for a split second before turning her attention back to the road and answered, “A place where the local Nomads like to go.”

  “And just what will we be doing at a Nomadic hangout?”

  A sly smile curled Morgan’s lips and Eric thought he spotted a hint of her fang peeking out from under her upper lip. “A little rabble rousing.”

  “Isn’t that frowned upon?”

  “If you want to get technical,” she said, shrugging one shoulder. “Then yes.”

  “Why aren’t we worried about technicalities?” he asked.

  “Because I have a bad feeling.”

  “We’re going on your bad feeling?”

  “Yes.”

  Eric shook his head, every warning buzzer in the back of his mind blared. “Talk to me, Morgan. I’m not like Marcus and Nicholas. I won’t try and stop you because I know it’s stupid.” He chuckled, hoping he’d managed to lighten the mood. When he got no response, he shook his head and continued, “But I do need to know what you have in mind, so I can protect you to the best of my ability.”

  Morgan sighed and the silence returned. She flipped on the car’s blinker and eased into a right turn before she spoke again. “It all goes back to Lucian. Things I can’t prove but have a bad feeling about. So please, don’t ask for proof. I do not have it.”

  “I won’t. But I just need to know what to expect, for now.” Eric’s mind spun, struggling to keep his tone neutral.

  “All right.” Morgan took a moment to gather her thoughts. “If I’m correct, there are events being set in motion that could have far-reaching ramifications for all of our kind. That being said, I worry about the sanity of having a vampire like Samair in charge of one of the largest Nomadic populations in the United States.”

  “What can you do about it? It’s not as if a member of a Dynastic line can take over as the Lord or Lady of the City.”