Blood in Her Veins: Nineteen Stories From the World of Jane Yellowrock

by Faith Hunter

  And she was caught in a magical trap with an insane vampire with a shoe fetish. In the circle, the vamp withdrew her fangs, curled around her prey, and closed her eyes.

  Cia whispered softly, “If Evelyn dies, will she rise as an unwilling, insane vampire?” Liz didn’t reply, and Cia said, “We have to do something.”

  Without thinking, Liz said, “Think she’d trade Evelyn for the other boot?”

  Cia giggled, a slightly hysterical sound, cut off quickly. She pressed her hands to her mouth, as if to shut down the inappropriate laughter.

  Liz shook her head, pushing away the horror and the realization that there was an important truth she had kept from her twin. Earlier it hadn’t mattered. Now it did, and Cia would be pissed. Her mouth dry, Liz took the plunge, saying, “We could . . . call Jane.”

  “She’s in New Orleans. She’s too far away. We need to figure out who the vamp is and who to call to take care of this. Unwilling feeding, kidnap. It’s got to be against vampire law.”

  “No. Jane’s in town. She’s here.”

  Cia’s eyes found her across the circles, the sleeping vampire, and her victim. “What did you say?”

  “I said, Jane’s in town. For the inquiry into Evangelina’s death.”

  Cia’s hair rose in an unseen wind. At the sight of it, chills ran down Liz’s arms and into the ground through her icy fingertips. “And you didn’t think I needed to know this?” Cia asked, her words low, full of threat.

  “Do you remember taking the heavy dishpan out of my arms this morning?”

  “What? What does that have to do with anything? I took it because you’re still weak.”

  “And right now the moon is full. And you’re more powerful but less stable. So, just like you took the dishpan, I kept the news off and you busy so you wouldn’t have to deal with it right now. I was trying to help.” Cia didn’t reply. Liz said, “We’ve got two problems here. One—a blood witch who helped to kidnap a human female. Two—a vampire snacking on that human female. It’s our responsibility to take care of the witch. Jane takes care of vampires. It’s her job, and as the Enforcer for the master of the southeastern U.S.A., it’s her responsibility.”

  The power wind lifting Cia’s hair settled slowly, the dark red strands falling around her shoulders, which slumped. Her eyes filled with tears as she came back to herself, found her center, and put it all together. “Ohhh . . . damn,” she muttered. She took a ragged breath. “Evangelina was our responsibility, but we let Jane handle it. We were cowards. It was our job and we . . . let Jane . . .” Cia took a slow breath, Liz mirroring the action. Liz could almost see the moon power waver across the circle between them. “We let her kill our sister for us.”

  Cia lifted a hand and pointed at the hedge of thorns ward, saying, “Ní mór fós i bhfeidhm,” which was Irish Gaelic for Must remain in place.

  Liz felt the power of the mountain shoot up through the ground and the moon power smash into the earth, securing the hedge of thorns ward in place. Her sister’s casual use of power when working beneath the moon was a wonderful and frightening thing. But this time it felt wrong. Too potent.

  “Something about this place,” Cia said, rubbing her upper arms against the chill.

  “Yeah. This was too easy.”

  “We actually transported a vampire and her victim out of her lair and into our circle with a simple find spell. I’m good and all,” Cia said, looking up at the black sky, “but I’m not this good.”

  “Me neither.” They had until sunrise to figure out what to do. At sunrise the vamp would burn to death. And from the look of her, by sunrise, Evelyn would be long dead.

  Thoughtfully Cia closed the outer circle, and the twins walked to the car.

  • • •

  Back at the Subaru, they had a good signal and Liz dialed Jane on her cell. Cia went to work on her tablet, researching the property they were on to see if she could discover why the power levels were so strong.

  “Yellowrock,” she answered.

  “It’s Liz.” Jane didn’t say anything. Jane didn’t say much of anything at the best of times, and this couldn’t be one of them. “I know we need to talk about Evie, and about family and about . . . stuff, and all, but, well, Cia and I were hired to do a finding spell for a missing woman who turned out to have been kidnapped in the middle of a blood-magic spell, and now we have a psychotic vampire and her kidnapped dinner—that missing human woman—stuck in a hedge of thorns spell on the side of a mountain.”

  Jane chuckled. She actually laughed. “Why is this funny?” Liz demanded.

  “You Everharts are . . . interesting.” Which was marginally better than other things Jane might have said.

  “Fine. You have any advice?”

  “Yeah. Send your GPS to my cell. Stay put. Asheville’s heir and I’ll be there as fast as we can.”

  “Liz? Don’t hang up,” Cia said, holding her hand out for the phone. Liz passed it to her, and Cia said, “Jane, we’re on a site that used to be called Mayhew Downs, about a hundred twenty years ago. That didn’t seem important until our magic was a lot more powerful than it should have been. So I went back online to the history site and discovered that there was this big mystery about the town in the 1890s. The town was fine one day. By the next week, all the inhabitants had disappeared. Which is weird, right?”

  Liz heard Jane grunt an affirmative.

  “So I looked through all the daguerreotypes on the site and one shows the mayor and his wife—who is a dead ringer—pardon the pun—for the vampire trapped in our circle.”

  “Hold.” The cell muted. When it came back on, the background noise had changed and they were clearly on speakerphone. Jane asked, “How did you get directed to that mountain?”

  “By a Christian Louboutin boot, five-inch-spike-heeled black suede with fringe down the back seam. Size six and a half. It’s a right boot, and it was left in the middle of the missing woman’s bedroom,” Liz said.

  “Huh. And how do you know the spell that took her was a blood ceremony?”

  “Blood-magic charms in her bedroom.”

  “Hold,” she said again. A moment later Jane came back on and practically snarled, “Do not get out of the car. Do not go back to the circle. Send me the coordinates. We’ll be there as fast as we can.”

  The connection ended, and Liz sent the directions before putting her phone away. Outside, the black of night was filled with shifting shadows and a pale gray fog. “Did the vamp empty the town?” Liz asked, as much to hold off the night as to communicate with her twin. “Where did all the people go? And why?”

  “I don’t know, but I have a feeling it has something to do with why our magic was so strong tonight.” Cia reached over and took her sister’s hand.

  • • •

  A little over ninety minutes later, Cia nudged her and Liz came awake with a start. “Lights.” Three, no, four sets of headlights were winding up the mountain, a line of cars that—even in the dark—looked heavy and powerful. “Is that what I think it is?” Liz asked.

  Cia said nothing, but her grip on Liz’s hand tightened.

  The cars pulled in and parked in a half circle around them; the engines went off and the headlights went dark. There was nothing sinister in the positioning of the vehicles, but Liz’s palms grew itchy. Sitting in the Subaru felt vaguely like being at the end of a net that was about to close. Forms emerged from the cars, gliding forms that moved with a predatory grace. “Vampires,” Cia whispered.

  “And Jane.”

  The security specialist was dressed in black jeans, a black vest with a white shirt that gleamed in the moonlight, and a silver gray designer jacket. Black high-heeled boots made her even taller than her usual six feet, and her shoulders looked more powerful than Liz remembered. Jane had always been painfully slender, but she had packed on muscle. She looked good. And then Liz saw the h
olster on her chest and the knives on her thighs. And the silver stakes twisted in her long black hair, braided, upswept, shining in the moonlight.

  She tapped on the window and Liz opened the door, letting in the chill night. The twins stepped out and closed the doors. The mountain was silent, except for the sough of the rising wind. The vampires were spread out around them, and Liz once again had the feeling of being prey.

  “You Everharts discovered something the vamps want hushed up,” Jane said without prelude. “They’re willing to bargain for your silence.”

  The sisters shared a glance across the car. Cia looked frightened and Liz held out her hand. Cia fairly flew around the car to her and slid an arm around her. Instantly Liz felt better. They were witches. They were wearing their necklaces, and the stones were full of stored power. Together they were stronger than this line of vampires. “We’ll bargain, but only if they can save the human woman.”

  Jane looked at the vampires, at two in particular. Liz clenched inside. She had lived in Asheville all her life, and she had never been in the presence of the blood-master or his heir. Now the two stood together, staring at them—Lincoln Shaddock, tall and spare, and his heir, Dacy Mooney, short and round and blond, both of them as old as the missing mountain town. . . .

  “Ohhh,” Liz said. “The vampire in the circle. She’s an old rogue and she got free.”

  Cia added, “And they’re responsible for what she’s done.”

  “Yeah. Got it in one. Or two,” Jane said, making a twin joke. “Her name is Romona, and she’s deadly dangerous. She never came out of the devoveo, the insanity that vamps descend into after they’re changed, and she was supposed to be put down a century ago. Unfortunately the mayor of Mayhew Downs, who was her husband and her maker, couldn’t do it.” Jane’s tone sounded tired, as if she had dealt with this before. “The last time she got free, she killed the entire town. The vamps hushed it up.”

  The twins breathed in with shock.

  As if she had shared their thoughts, Jane said, “But things are different now.” She nodded at the line of vamps, unmoving in the night. “They know they can’t let her go unpunished. They can’t let her maker go unpunished.” She nodded to another man standing silent and vamp still beside Dacy Mooney.

  It was the mayor from the daguerreotype. It was also the man who was trying to develop Mayhew Downs. Evelyn’s boss is a vampire. Everything fell into place with a little thump in Liz’s mind. It was all tied together. Mayhew had made his wife into a vamp. It hadn’t gone well, and he had kept her prisoner for over a hundred years. Mayhew was wearing silver chains at his wrists and neck. If the wind had been right, Liz was sure they would have smelled charring skin.

  Jane finished with, “You need to know. Romona is a witch.”

  Something clicked in Liz’s mind and she took a slow breath. Beside her, Cia put it all together as well. Her voice so low it was barely a caress on the night, Cia said, “Romona drained the whole town of Mayhew Downs. But she didn’t do it just as a vampire, she did it as a vampire witch. She put their blood and their death energies, the power of their souls, into the earth.”

  “Yes,” Dacy said. “Then Mayhew decided to develop the land that she had made her own with the blood of the townspeople. When Romona learned about it, she got free.” Dacy shook the chain on Mayhew’s neck. “But he didn’t tell us. Romona couldn’t find him, but she did find Evelyn, his right-hand gal, and she took her.”

  “The mountain is soaked with blood magic,” Jane acknowledged unhappily.

  Cia squeezed Liz’s hand, communicating the message, That’s why our magic was so strong tonight. We mixed our magics in the working. We absorbed stored blood magic.

  Liz squeezed back, thinking, It was like the mountain was . . . feeding us. And Jane knows.

  Cia’s face went white, but her jaw hardened. “We’ll get purified. We’ll call a coven. . . .” She stopped. They didn’t have a full coven anymore. Not with Evie gone. Not unless they brought in another witch on a permanent basis, someone they could trust with this knowledge. “We’ll find a way.”

  Jane said, “The vamps have a request. By today’s laws, now that Romona has attacked a human, she’ll be brought to true death. By my hand. And they want you to agree not to talk about what you learned here tonight. They’re willing to pay for your silence. Vamps are always willing to pay,” she said, her tone grim and tired.

  “Like we said,” Cia said, drawing on her power. “If they save Evelyn, we’ll agree to keep quiet. If they don’t . . . well, we’ll have to see.”

  Liz smiled in the night. “And if they think they can make us, remember that blood magic doesn’t just go away. I’ve had my hands in the soil tonight.”

  “And I’ve had my face in the moonlight,” Cia added.

  As one, the line of vamps stepped back. Jane relaxed and laughed, her laughter flowing down the hillside, through the fog. “Good to hear.”

  Liz realized that the tension she had felt in Jane was gone, replaced by something that was nearly jovial. “You’ve been worried,” Liz said, “that you were going to have to figure out a way to protect us if the vamps decided we might talk.” Liz looked at the blond vamp, standing beside her maker and master in the moonlight. “We’d have fried you to a crisp, lady.”

  Both of the vampires looked nonplussed, and Jane laughed again. “Vamps and witches go back a long way. Vamps seem to have a . . . let’s call it a fascination with witches. Sometimes that makes ’em stupid.” Dacy frowned at that, but Jane indicated that the twins should lead the way. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

  • • •

  The vampires stood in an arc outside the unpowered outer circle, their faces white, still, pale as marble statues. The mayor was unchained and stood with them, Dacy’s hand on his shoulder. He was holding a Neiman Marcus bag, and tears ran down his face. “Do it,” Dacy said, applying pressure to his shoulder. “Do it or I will.”

  The vamp walked to the hedge, where Romona sat, watching them, her eyes vamped-out, blood on her face. Beside her, Evelyn lay in a boneless tangle of limbs. She was breathing fast—far too fast.

  Mayhew opened the shopping bag and lifted out a shoe box. The vamp in the circle was suddenly standing, her hands behind her back, leaning forward in that odd birdlike, snakelike motion that just looked so wrong. Her face took on an expression of sharp avarice. “For me, my darling?”

  “For you, my love.” He opened the box and pulled out a pair of gorgeous shoes. Cia sucked in a breath of desire. “Those are ruby-toned Giuseppe Zanotti five-inch stilettos, encrusted with Swarovski crystals and beads. They sell for nineteen hundred dollars. Oh. My. God.”

  Mayhew went on. “I’ll trade for them.”

  Romona tilted her head. “Trade?”

  “Shoes for the human.”

  Romona glanced at the woman and said, “She’s nearly gone anyway. Yes.” She held out her hands. “Shoes. Mine.” Then she pointed at the black boot on the ground. “Mine too.”

  “Yes,” Mayhew said, bloody tears on both cheeks. “Yours too.”

  “Acceptable to me.” And Romona smiled, a nearly human expression, full of delight and a winsome mischievousness.

  Jane pulled two silver stakes from her hair and nodded at Liz. She and Cia sat on the cold ground just outside the hedge of thorns. They buried their hands in the chilled soil and Cia said, “From blood and death and moon above, release.” Everything happened so fast, like photos that overlaid one another, shuffled in a strong hand. The hedge fell.

  Romona leaped. Jane whirled the stakes out in dual backswings. Cia and Liz rolled out of the way. Romona landed on Mayhew, thrusting him back. Jane stepped across the falling bodies, her hands coming together and down, like a scissors closing. The stakes slammed through Romona. A shriek sounded, so piercing it was deafening. A death keening. Cia and Liz covered their ears in shock. Blood f
ountained up over Jane’s hands.

  The keening shut off. Jane pulled the dead vampire away from her husband. He was sobbing, his anguish human and pitiable. Two other vamps reattached his shackles as Jane hefted the dead vampire to her shoulder and carried the body into the dark. Mayhew raised his face to the night sky and screamed his grief. The sound of a blade chopping echoed. Once. Twice.

  Dacy knelt over the limp body of Evelyn McMann, a small knife in her hand. With an economical motion and no flinching at all, she sliced her own wrist and placed it at Evelyn’s mouth. The blood trickled in, and Dacy held Evelyn’s jaw until the human woman swallowed. Liz and Cia stood in the cold wind, arms around each other for warmth and comfort, watching the second-most-powerful vampire in Asheville healing their enemy’s mother. Evelyn reached up with two skeletal hands and gripped Dacy’s wrist. The vampire looked at them and said, “She will live. Your word, if you please.”

  “We’ll never speak of this to anyone without your permission,” Cia said.

  “We’ll never speak of this to anyone unless it means the life of another,” Liz amended.

  “Acceptable,” Lincoln Shaddock said. Dacy picked Evelyn up like she was a baby and started for the cars.

  Moments later Jane came back, from a different direction. There was blood on her white shirt. “We’re done,” she said. “The policing of Lincoln Shaddock for his clan is acceptable to Leo Pellissier, the Master of the City of New Orleans and most of the southeastern United States, including the Appalachian Mountains, where we stand. Pay the Everharts.” She pointed to Cia and Liz.