by Lisa Emme
I elbowed my way towards the entrance until one of the bouncers recognized me and jumped in, bulldozing a path for me. As the crowd parted, I caught a glimpse of a familiar-looking man with a head of coppery-brown hair speaking to Nick, the doorman. It was Jonah, the mystery man from the coffee shop. What was he doing here?
I quickened my pace, but by the time I reached Nick, Jonah was nowhere in sight.
“Hey, Nick. Where did that guy you were just talking to go?”
Nick, who looked eerily like a watered-down version of Ozzy Osborne, turned his blurry, purple-bespectacled eyes at me and frowned. “You mean Tomas, luv? He’s gone up to see the boss.”
“Tomas?" I shook my head slowly. That couldn’t be right. Tomas had been a no show at Dante’s lately. A dhamphir like me, he had recently acquired full vampire status after losing his mortal life at the hands of the Mariposa and her goons. I’d been wanting to pick his brain about the process but hadn’t had the chance because he was spending all his time supervising the overhaul of Wishes, the former demon-run club.
When I defeated Seth, and drove him back to hell last month, Salvador, as was his way, had negotiated some sort of deal with a few of the lesser daemons. In return for their allegiance and help in defeating their brethren that remained aligned to Seth, Salvador gave them permission to stay, confined to the building that was once known as Wishes. Max, who had knowledge of demonology, had cast a spell on the building, ensuring the daemons would remain confined, and Tomas had been given the responsibility of creating a new and improved – and much safer for norms – nightclub. The new club, soon to be christened Dreams, was opening tomorrow night.
If Nick thought he’d spoken to Tomas, that meant Jonah was up to his tricks, playing with people’s minds and Salvador might be in danger. Bolting past Nick and into the building, I bypassed the entrance to the club and instead number-keyed my way through a private door that led to the lobby for the high-rise part of the building. I sprinted across the marble floor as the elevator doors dinged to indicate they were closing, and drawing my katana, leapt into the elevator as the doors slid shut.
Without slowing my momentum, I lunged at a wide-eyed Jonah, pushing him against the back wall with my hand on his chest, my katana held menacingly at his throat.
“Who are you really, Jonah, if that’s even your name, and what are you doing here?”
Before he could answer, the elevator started moving with a jolt and my blade slipped, pricking his neck to draw blood.
Jonah lifted his hands, holding them up and out to the sides, as if trying to appear harmless, or at least as if he was going to offer no resistance.
“Harry,” he replied calmly, ignoring my blade. “What a surprise to see you here this evening.”
“Enough with the chit-chat. What do you want with Salvador?"
“I assure you, I have no ill-intentions towards the Magister.” Jonah smiled at me. “Quite the contrary, in fact. Your father and I are old friends.”
I eyed him suspiciously. Who, or rather what, the hell was he? I still couldn’t get a read on him. He didn’t feel like a norm and with his ability to cast a glamour, he obviously had some magic. More importantly, how did he know about my relationship to Salvador? That could lend itself as proof of what he said, that he and Salvador were friends. Or, it could mean he was some sort of assassin who did his homework before hitting his mark. I put a little more pressure on my blade, pressing it up against the wound that was already there. “So you say, but I think I’ll wait to hear it from Salvador, nonetheless.”
Jonah winced, but merely remained still, taking a calm breath. “As you wish.”
The next minute or so was one of the weirdest, most awkward minutes of my life. We remained as we were, my katana to his neck, as the elevator continued its way up to the penthouse.
Jonah’s eyes sparkled with laughter and the fact that he found the whole situation amusing pissed me off.
“You smell wonderful,” he said matter-of-factly. “I wanted to mention that the other day in the coffee shop.”
“It’s peach body wash,” I blurted out, blinking in surprise. “Nothing special.” I frowned at him.
“It suits you.” He grinned.
My frown turned to a scowl, but before I could reply – and honestly, I didn’t have a clever one – the elevator bumped to a halt and the doors opened.
“Ah, Harry,” Salvador’s gravelly voice came from behind me. “Nick said you were on the way up with Tomas, but–”
“Stay back, Salvador. This isn’t Tomas.” I released my grip on the front of Jonah’s jacket and backed up a step, keeping my katana aimed at his throat, to stand directly in front of the elevator doors, shielding Salvador.
I pressed the close button and added, “Call your guard and have them meet us below.”
“But, Pequeña–”
Salvador’s words were cut off as the doors slid shut. I stood expectantly waiting for the elevator to begin its descent, but nothing happened.
Jonah coughed, and lifted his hand to cover his mouth, his eyes once again full of mirth. “You have to enter the code or the elevator won’t move.”
Crap! I knew that. I scowled at him and sidled over towards the keypad.
“The number is–”
“I know what the number is,” I snapped, glaring at him.
Jonah gave a little shrug, his mouth threatening to curve up into a smile.
Before I could figure out how to enter the code and keep my eyes on the self-satisfied jerk at the same time, the doors opened with a ding, making me jump.
“Pequeña, what on Earth are you doing accosting my good friend?" Salvador placed a hand on the elevator door so it wouldn’t close again.
“You know this guy?”
“Most certainly. We have been friends for more years than I can count.”
I narrowed my eyes and glanced between Jonah and Salvador. Jonah was now smiling, like he knew some great joke. At my expense, I might add.
“Not so fast,” I replied. “What does your friend look like?" For all I knew, Jonah was casting a glamour that merely looked like Salvador’s friend.
Salvador arched an eyebrow at me, but I refused to budge. “Very well. He is tall, lean, I believe the women find him not hard on the eyes.”
Jonah smirked. “My liege, you flatter me.”
“What colour is his hair?” I asked, still suspicious.
“What would you call it? Ruivo?" Salvador waived a hand as if trying to find the right word. “Auburn? Copper?”
I let my katana fall to my side and stepped out of the elevator. “I guess he’s who you say he is.”
“Why thank you,” Salvador replied drolly. “Now tell me why you are attacking my guests.”
“I’m afraid that’s my fault, Salvador,” Jonah said, still grinning. “I paid a visit to Harry’s fine coffee establishment yesterday and we got off on the wrong foot.”
“What did you expect coming into my shop wearing a glamour and messing with everyone’s heads?" I scowled at him, reaching behind me to slide my katana home into its scabbard, something that’s not as easy as it looks and took me weeks of practice to do skillfully.
“What I find most curious,” Salvador mused. “Is why you are aware of our dear friend’s most unusual talent.” He turned to Jonah. “Why is it young Angharad can see you as you are?”
Jonah shrugged. “I thought perhaps she could tell me.”
“Me? I’m not doing anything.” I cocked my chin haughtily. “I guess my shields are too strong for you to get in and play your dirty little mind tricks.”
“Are they?" Jonah’s voice echoed in my head and I gasped in shock.
Salvador cocked his head in thought and then gave a Gallic shrug. “A question for another time,” he replied, appearing to have missed the little mind-to-mind communication that occurred between Jonah and me. His face became serious. “You have news?” His question was directed at Jonah.
“Yes, it’s as I f
eared. He has…”
Jonah stopped speaking as Salvador gestured with his hand to wait. He turned to me. “I’m afraid our time together will have to be postponed, Pequeña. Jonah and I have business to attend to.”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine with me. But this still counts.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Salvador waved a dismissive hand at me and then took Jonah by the arm. “Come, my friend. I have a fine bottle of Chateau Margaux breathing on the side table. We’ll share a glass and you can give me your news.” He paused again, looking back at me. “And Pequeña, do not forget tomorrow we will attend the opening of Dreams.”
“I haven’t forgotten,” I replied with another sigh.
“Good, good.” Salvador smiled slyly. “And will your wolf be attending or are you still, what do they call it? On the outs?”
“Nash is working. It’ll just be me.”
“Wonderful!” Salvador clapped his hands. “You can accompany Jonah as his date.”
Before I could respond with what I thought of that idea, Salvador turned, once again taking Jonah by the arm, pulling him down the hallway. Jonah, glancing over his shoulder, cocked an apologetic shrug, but his eyes still glimmered with amusement.
“Hmph!” I grumbled to myself, taking out my phone to text Henry to bring around the car. Salvador and Jonah walked down the hall towards the penthouse, speaking in hushed tones. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something was bugging me. I was feeling an emotion I couldn’t identify. Was I jealous because Jonah was going to drink the wine Salvador had prepared for us? First, I’m concerned about his well-being and now I’m jealous? What the hell was happening to me?
Chapter Nine
“If you are going to sit and mope, I could use your help in the kitchen.”
Leaning against the counter, Isaac took a sip of his coffee and raised an eyebrow at me. He was dressed casually – at least for him – in dark jeans and a white, button-front shirt. His sleeves were rolled up neatly and he had a dark blue, bib-front apron on overtop. The apron read, “Kiss the Cook But Don’t Touch the Buns.” Tess had made it her mission to find Isaac the goofiest aprons, giving them to him as gifts so he felt obliged to wear them.
“I’m not moping,” I replied petulantly, proving his point. I had arrived back from Dante’s much earlier than expected and since Tess was out on her date, and Nash and I were, well, whatever the hell we were doing, I had stopped by the coffee shop to hang out for a while.
The shop was quiet. Isaac and Hilde were working in the kitchen baking the sweets and breads that would fly off the shelves tomorrow and so Willow was on her own serving customers out front. Willow is nice enough, for a vampire, but we haven’t clicked. I think she might be a little scared of me, which is an odd thing considering she could bench press a car if she wanted. She hadn’t been my first pick to hire, but Isaac had uncharacteristically asked that I consider her and so what could I do? She only worked in the shop part-time, more an excuse to leave her position at Bacchus, one of Salvador’s many businesses, so she could move into one of Isaac’s newly renovated condos and set up her art studio. As an artist, Willow’s talent was being wasted working in an upscale wine bar. I had seen some of her work and it was beautiful, reminding me of post-impressionist artists like Van Gogh. When I mentioned it to her, she had laughed and replied, “That crazy hack?”
With a sigh, I slid out of my booth and followed Isaac into the kitchen.
“So, why is it you are home so early from Dante’s? Tell me about this mystery man.” Isaac placed a bowl in my hands and indicated I should start stirring.
I nodded to Hilde, who was up to her elbows in bread dough and then filled Isaac in on my encounters with the mysterious Jonah while Isaac tossed ingredients into the bowl I was mixing. When I said Jonah’s name, Isaac paused in surprise and then traded a look with Hilde.
I frowned and glanced across the room at the diminutive vampire. “I thought you didn’t know who he was.”
“I did not. But now, hearing this name, the strangeness from yesterday has meaning.”
“It doesn’t have meaning to me. Who is this guy?”
“I find it most intriguing you were able to see his true form,” Isaac mused, looking pensive. “Most intriguing.”
“That’s what Salvador said, too. What’s the big deal? I’ve seen through glamours before, withstood other mind tricks.” I glanced down in surprise at the bowl I was stirring. All the ingredients Isaac had added had somehow become chocolate buttercream frosting.
“But not The Law’s,” Hilde blurted out. The way she said the name, The Law, made it sound like there were capital letters involved.
“Hilde is correct. You do not see through Jonah’s glamour unless he wants you to, and it’s a select group of people that has had the privilege.”
“So, you know him?” I asked, running my finger along the inside of the bowl to steal a taste.
“Yes, of course. All of Salvador’s vampires are familiar with The Law,” Isaac replied cryptically, taking the bowl from me and scraping its contents into a piping bag. He handed me the prepared bag and pointed me to the rows of cupcakes sitting over on the cooling racks, waiting to be frosted.
“The Law. What the hell does that mean? Is he some sort of vampire police?”
Isaac shrugged, tilting his head to one side as if he was weighing the idea. “You could say that. Jonah Law is an enforcer. He works in the shadows and metes out Salvador’s justice. His ability with glamour is paramount. It allows him to mask what he truly is and move about unnoticed in any situation. To the ordinary viewer he appears in a form that is the least likely to raise an alarm, but when he comes for you, he appears as your worst nightmare.”
My eyes widened in surprise. Isaac wasn’t usually one for dramatics. “So, he’s like the vampire boogey man? Do they tell stories about him to scare all the bad, little vampires straight?”
“Even in my country, we have heard of The Law,” Hilde replied in a hushed tone, as if Jonah was going to jump out of the corner at any minute.
I rolled my eyes. Sure, the guy was suspicious, but I wasn’t getting a dangerous vibe big enough to warrant Hilde’s reaction.
“I wonder why he’s here,” I mused. I had to agree with Isaac – although not for the same reasons – Jonah was intriguing.
***
One hundred and twenty frosted cupcakes later – we had a special order to fill – I was over the intrigue of Jonah and ready for bed. Isaac was engrossed in the creation of his mille-feuille, what we called Napoleon bars in the shop – layers of puff pastry and pastry cream topped with a glaze of white and chocolate icing – and barely nodded goodnight, but Hilde dusted off her hands and pulled me aside on the way out the door.
“Harry, you must be careful around this Jonah. He is extremely dangerous.” Her face was full of concern.
“I don’t see why he would be a danger to me,” I replied with a shrug. “He works for Salvador, so unless Salvador decides he wants me dead, I don’t think I have to worry.” And if Salvador wanted me dead I would have been dead a long time ago, I added silently to myself.
I left through the front of the store so I could say goodnight to Willow and ambled around the building enjoying the crisp night air. I was just turning the corner when I heard voices.
“I had a great time,” Tess said. “Thanks for dinner.”
Crap! Tess and Max were on the back steps saying goodnight after their date. Not wanting to intrude but dying to see, I peeked around the corner. Tess was standing on the first step putting her at about the same height as Max.
Max leaned in and said something I couldn’t hear and Tess laughed. She reached out and wrapped her hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. Feeling like a creep for spying, I ducked back and leaned against the side of the building to wait for them to finish their goodnight kiss.
After a few minutes, I heard the shuffling of feet on the gravel in the parking lot and
then a car door opening.
“Goodnight, Harry,” Max called. I could hear the smile in his voice.
Busted!
Feeling my cheeks warm, I stepped out of the shadow of the wall and walked around the corner of the building.
“Goodnight, Max,” I replied, giving him a sheepish wave. I glanced at Tess. She stood on the step, arms crossed.
She waited until Max’s car drove away and then raised an eyebrow at me.
“If you’re going to spy on a wolf and a panther, you’re going to have to be quieter than that.”
“I wasn’t spying, not intentionally anyway. I was on my way home and you happened to decide to make out on the back step at the same time.” I smirked at Tess. “So, is he a good kisser?”
“We were not making out,” Tess protested. She turned and ran up the stairs, stopping to look back over her shoulder. “And yes, he’s a great kisser.” She hurried the rest of the way and disappeared inside before I’d taken another step.
I rushed after her, wanting the details, only to nearly crash into her inside the door. Tess reached behind her and held out a hand for me to stop. She cocked her head as if listening and then peered around the room suspiciously.
I glanced around the room as well. Everything appeared to be in order, and yet, it felt off. Tess was right, something was different.
I think we must have figured it out at the same time because just as I opened my mouth to say something, Tess cried out, “Oh, no! My room!”
She dashed down the hall to the stairs. I took another look around the living room, noticing all the little things I hadn’t noticed at first, all the things that were missing: the picture of Tess and her Uncle Rigo that had sat on the shelf behind the desk; a painted rock that Tess had made for Gran when we were five; her tattered copy of The Hobbit that had sat on the shelf next to my boxed set of The Lord of the Rings; her Darth Vader coffee mug.
When Tess arrived back in the living room a few minutes later, she looked at me sadly. “It’s all gone. Everything. Even my bed.”
