“I believe so.”
“Nicholas will hear about this as soon as I see him. I’ll relay your suspicions and your concern about his Enforcer. I do not know how he will react. Even though I’m his wife, he still manages to surprise me sometimes. It is possible he will want to call on you.”
“He knows how to reach me, and I look forward to speaking with him.” Zachary held out a hand to Morgan. “Shall we return to the party?”
“You are more than welcome to. However, I find that I would like some time to myself.” She furrowed her brow. “It has been a strange evening.”
“As you wish. Do not forget, the toast is soon.”
“I won’t. I just need some time, fresh air and peace to figure a couple of things out.”
“Then I shall leave you to your thoughts.” Zachary bowed, and returned to the party. Sounds of the orchestra playing a lively Charleston drifted out as he stepped inside.
Once the doors had closed, the music and party sounds were muffled, and the trees helped buffer the ebb and flow of the city. She could almost believe they’d managed to find solitude. Morgan closed her eyes and eased the control she kept over her shared connection with Nicholas just enough so she could sense him.
Her awareness brushed up against Nicholas’s, like Eric’s kitten, Mina, when she demanded food or affection. She felt his concentration and caution through their shared blood and hoped that it meant they were close to finding Jayson. She pulled back and put her defenses in place, so he wouldn’t be distracted by her unease.
Good hunting, my love. Thinking about Nicholas and his success brought a smile to her face as she put her mask back in place.
Christophe watched as Zachary stepped back into the ballroom, but Morgan remained out on the balcony. He strolled over to the double doors and glanced out. She stood by the railing, gazing out over the city with a far off look in her eyes. He knew that particular expression. It meant that Morgan had opened herself up to the connection she shared with Nicholas.
Not wanting to intrude, Christophe spun back to the ballroom. The whirling mass of bodies on the floor ebbed and flowed with the music, and servers carried trays of drinks through the crowd ringing the floor. A waitress, dressed in a black bodysuit that left nothing to the imagination, slinked up to Christophe and offered him a tray of champagne flutes.
“No, thank you.” He inclined his head to her and stepped to his left, hoping to get away from her.
She stepped in the way to block his path and held the tray out again, in silent offering.
Christophe stepped back, scowling, “I said, no, thank you.”
She tilted her head to the left, Christophe wanted to see her eyes, to give her at least one human feature. The light glinted off something that flashed red beneath the white mask; lenses covered the eyeholes blocking out all humanity. Perfect bow-shaped, crimson lips and an abstract design over the right eye were the only embellishments.
Christophe frowned as she took a glass and mimed a toast before holding the flute of bubbling, pale gold liquid out to him. Like the earlier glass, this one held a drop of crimson blood suspended near the bottom of the flute. He accepted the glass and hoped that would be the last time he’d see the strange server. She nodded and strolled away, balancing the tray on one hand as she offered drinks to other partygoers.
“Something bothering you?” Morgan asked from his right side.
“Ever have one of those moments when something raises your hackles, but you can’t explain why?” he asked, not taking his eyes off the woman with the champagne.
“Yes.” After a moment’s silence, she asked, “What spooked you?”
“The servers.” Christophe paused, realizing that it sounded crazy. “Yes, if you can believe it.”
“The servers?”
“Yes. Have you seen how they’re dressed? It’s creepy.”
“Imagine that, seeing something creepy at a vampire’s Halloween masquerade ball.” Morgan chuckled as she took the glass of champagne from the server.
“I didn’t think we’d see something like this.” He felt a chill run down his spine, fine hairs on his arms and neck rising. “I don’t know, but there’s something about them that sets me on edge.”
“We’ll…” Morgan started to respond when the clear bell-like sound of metal tapping against crystal rang throughout the room. The sound began with one tone, but soon many others had joined in creating a chorus of peals that went on for several moments before dying out.
“Ladies and gentleman.” Zachary’s voice shattered the bubble of silence. He held a champagne flute in one hand and a dainty silver spoon in the other. The tapping of metal on glass had broken the drop of blood in his drink and red tendrils slipped through the bubbling liquid before dissipating. “Good evening. I would like to thank you all for attending.”
His voice drifted into the background as something caught Morgan’s eye. One of the servers approached Lucian and offered him a drink. The elder vampire tried to decline, but the server, who seemed to be some sort of contortionist by the way he moved his body, would not be refused.
“That’s what happened to me,” Christophe whispered low enough it wouldn’t carry.
Morgan glanced at her drink and brought it up to her nose. She inhaled. The champagne had the added tang of blood, but she couldn’t smell anything that might indicate something wrong with it.
“I can’t wait to get out of here after the toast,” she whispered, hoping the paranoia afflicting Christophe had simply spread to her. A little voice in the back of her head made a good case against paranoia. At the top of the stairs, Zachary finished the toast with an ancient blessing of health and prosperity.
Christophe watched Zachary, waiting for the cue to take a sip of his drink when something caught his eye. The server who had bullied him into accepting a glass turned and the way the light hit her mask showed off the abstract design over the eye. Christophe gasped, the bold black strokes made up a rose. A single, black rose. He scanned the other servers and found that each of them wore the same mask.
He turned to Morgan and found his mentor with the glass to her lips. Acting on instinct alone Christophe slapped the glass away from her. The flute dropped from her fingers. Morgan turned to him.
“What are you…” she gasped as the glass shattered on the hardwood floor.
“There’s something wrong with the drinks,” he insisted. On the edges of his vision, he saw a couple of vampires hesitate, glasses almost to their lips.
“I didn’t smell anything.” Her words seemed to be a cue to the vampires listening in and they all put their glasses to their lips and drank.
“Look at the servers’ masks,” he insisted, feeling like the boy who cried wolf when no one believed.
“The servers...” Morgan started, but her words trailed off and she looked beyond him. Her eyes went wide as her jaw dropped, and she pointed to the landing.
He followed her gaze up to where Zachary had been standing. Their host was on his hands and knees, crimson blood pouring from the mouth and eyes of his mask.
“The servers belong to The Order,” he whispered. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
“We’ve got to get Nicholas.” Morgan shook her head and reached into her bag.
“First we get out of here.” Christophe reached under his suit jacket and withdrew a revolver.
He scanned the room, but all of the servers had disappeared. All around them vampires were on the ground of slumped against the walls or over tables. Some of them were vomiting blackish blood. Others had already died. By his count, fifteen other vampires remained on their feet and healthy. Most of those were close to where he and Morgan stood.
“They must have heard me tell you not to drink. The others… shit I don’t know.”
“Damn it,” Morgan cursed and took the phone away from her ear.
“Morgan.” Christophe tried in vain to get her attention.
“I know, cut and run, but we need help here. This mes
s isn’t going to clean itself up.” She stepped over a pool of blood growing steadily around the face of a fairy masked vampire. Brightly colored feathers from her mask drooped under the weight of blood, and the vampire wasn’t moving.
“We can call for backup once we’re on our way to the house. Nicholas will seal me in a tomb for eternity if you get hurt.”
“What if the cops find this?” She gestured to the mess around them. “What if the Order has called them? We have to do something.”
“Are you suggesting arson?” Christophe whispered as he watched a few blood donors approach their vampires.
“No, don’t!” he called out. “Stay back, they might not recognize you.” He watched in growing horror as a young man approached Zachary, unfazed by his words.
Their host ripped off his mask, face smeared with his own blood. He beckoned the donor forward. Zachary reached out to the human, pleading, but Christophe saw the predator flash behind his eyes.
“You do not want to do that, Zachary.” The note of command in Morgan’s voice sent a chill down Christophe’s spine, and he recognized it as one meant to control young vampires, the one they could not ignore. “Christophe, search for those who can be saved.” She shared a glance and nod with him. “If any of you can, help Christophe search for the living.” Morgan spoke to the few vampires who were still standing or staggering to their feet. Either they didn’t drink much or had glasses left over from earlier in the evening. “If you are a donor or human, leave this place now. We cannot guarantee your safety and under the rules of the Covenant, no harm can come to you.” She didn’t wait to see if her orders were carried out.
Morgan went to Zachary’s side and knelt, heedless of the blood that soaked into the hem of her dress. She turned his head and put two fingers to the pulse at his neck.
“Come on, you fool,” she whispered as she let loose some of the tight control she kept over her abilities. She felt the spark of life within him, weak but fighting. “Idiot.” Morgan had chided a moment before she placed her wrist at his mouth. “Three, two, one,” she whispered bracing herself. Zachary’s fangs scraped over her flesh once, then they sliced into her wrist. He drank until Morgan began to feel lightheaded. “Stop,” she commanded and breathed a sigh of relief when he obeyed.
“Morgan, we need to move quickly,” Christophe said, his voice higher pitched than usual.
“You think someone called emergency services?”
“Yes. My guess is they will be here in less than ten minutes.”
“See who’s up and around. Get as many people as you can out of here in the next two minutes.”
“What are you going to do?” Christophe asked. She looked at him and slowly blinked once. He knew the answer and whispered, “Merde, she’s going to burn the house to the ground.”
“I hope you don’t have anything too important in here, Zachary,” she said, helping him to his feet.
“No. I just use this place for parties. Most furniture items are knock offs,” he answered using the railing for support. “How can I help?”
“I need you and Christophe to get everyone out of here.” She frowned as her mind turned over the logistics of what she needed to do. “While you’re working on that, I need to figure out how to do this without starting a new Great Fire in the city.”
“Call Richard.”
“He’ll tell me not to do it. Or keep me on the phone so long theorizing that we’ll all be arrested.”
“Yeah, if we can keep Eric’s girl from taking us in, that’d be great,” Christophe quipped and took Zachary by the arm. “Come on, let’s get you out of here. Give the boss lady time to work.”
Knight 157 slipped out of the house as the vampire host began his toast. He paused at the front door and checked the street in both directions. Satisfied that he was alone, he dropped the glamour that made it look like he wore the body suit and mask disguise that the Knights had used for the party. Then 157 jogged across the street, ducked behind a parked van and settled in to wait. He knew that the High Lord had commanded him to wait and report on the aftermath of their attack because he’d failed to return with the Assassin’s blood. If the vampires found him watching, they would retaliate. Their vengeance would be swift and painful.
It took no more than five minutes to see the proof he had waited for, a small group of humans ran out of the house and scattered in almost every direction in a near blind panic. They were followed by several pairs of vampires, the fronts of their costumes stained crimson, and he watched as they also fled into the night.
Within a few minutes, a female vampire, wearing the stylized garb of a pirate, stepped out of the house searching for something. Dark stains caused her dress to cling to her shins, and a few fat drops hit the ground around her. She took off her mask, raven hair falling over one eye as she scanned the street. Her eyes landed on a florist van. The female grabbed another vampire, pointed him in that direction and gave him instructions. She disappeared back inside the house.
The male vampire sprinted to the van and slipped behind the wheel. 157 didn’t want to know how they got the keys, but the vampire eased it into the driveway leading to the garage that made up the first floor of the building.
Cursing, 157 snatched his cell phone and dialed 911. “I’d like to report screams and a disturbance.”
“Are you certain it is a genuine emergency, sir? It is Halloween, and we have had a number of false reports tonight,” the bored operator said.
“I’m sure.” He rolled his eyes and fought to keep the frustration out of his voice. “The screams sound real, not like they’re a prank.”
“What’s your location?”
As the operator took the details, 157 watched the house. He lied about his name but gave the proper phone number, already planning to ditch it as soon as possible. It was unacceptable that Richard knew the number, the authorities being able to link it to a report of trouble, much worse.
He hung up, watching a vampire in a freakish long-nosed mask and floor-length black coat, slip out of the house. 157 gasped. He recognized the vampire as the one who had flat out refused the laced drink. This vampire was the only one he hadn’t tried to force it on because of the power emanating from just standing next to the man. I have to watch where this one goes. If I can take his heart, it will please the High Lord.
Lucian exited the party and stepped into the night air. Several vampires continued milling around on the street. He knew others were putting corpses into a florist’s van in Zachary’s garage. I wonder where the florist went? He knew that even though Zachary was Morgan’s Blood Son, he didn’t have the same hang-ups about taking human life that she did.
The elder vampire began strolling toward his hotel when a movement across the street caught his eye. A black clad figure sliding through the shadows.
He smiled and murmured, “So, one of the Knights thinks he will add another kill to this evening’s count. I’ve got another thing in mind for this young pup.”
Continuing his long strides as though he hadn’t seen the Knight, he knew when the man turned and followed him. Feeling the presence behind him, Lucian moderated his pace and sent his awareness out to brush up against the human’s. It buffeted against the magic that bound each member of the Order and shuddered at the thought of what they put themselves through in the name of killing his kind.
Increasing his pace to gain distance, Lucian ducked into a dark alley. He would let the man pass and take the long way back to his hideaway. Too much of the plan still required his direct intervention. He needed to continue walking the earth.
As the human walked past without spotting him, Lucian changed his mind. The blue eyes and red hair were no longer hidden by the hood all the servers had been wearing. He recognized the Knight that Julian had seen speaking with Morrigan’s sorcerous mentor, his brother.
“Oh yes, you should be useful.” Lucian lashed out with his power and smiled when the Knight’s eyes went wide as the spell lanced through his defenses.
“Were you following me?”
“Vampire.” The human hissed, still unable to stand or speak above a whisper.
“Yes, I am, and you’re a Knight of the Order of the Black Rose. That’s rather a pretentious title, isn’t it?”
Lucian knelt, getting almost eye level with the Knight, he began sifting through the other man’s thoughts. Centuries of practice let him push past his opponent’s mental defenses. Deep down, he found a name, one rarely used anymore, a name the man had used for decades prior to the Order finding him.
“Well, hello, Jarreth,” Lucian said with a grin.
“Kill me and get it over with,” Jarreth said as it seemed his mind was being picked apart by thousands of insects. He fought the scream building inside, refusing to give the vampire the satisfaction.
“Oh, you’re not going to die, yet. I have plans for you and you’re going to come with me.” He slipped the command into the Knight’s mind, anchored it and waited.
After several moments, a shadow passed over the other man’s eyes. He stood, brushed himself off and waited silently for orders.
Lucian smiled, knowing the steady, silent countdown happening in the human’s mind. They needed to get back to his base before the compulsion wore off. The trick would not work a second time.
“Perhaps this evening wasn’t such a waste, after all. Come along now.” He turned and exited the alley, heading back to the industrial building where he’d holed up since arriving in town three nights before. The Knight followed behind him, in step with the vampire.
Morgan stood on the landing and scanned the remains of the gathering. Far too many bodies were scattered on the floor, vampires who would never again feel the touch of night on their faces.
“What did this? There are only thirty-five or so survivors out of a crowd that numbered almost one hundred,” she whispered.
Forged in Flame Page 21
