by Robyn Bachar
“Yes, it is.”
“There are those who would not be so accommodating in this situation, vampires who are truly worth your ire. At the very least I want us to be able to work together peacefully.”
“At least? What more do you want?” I frowned up at him, and he slowly leaned down toward me. I backed away and bumped into the doorframe that connected the bedroom and the closet, and I winced as I struck my head against the wood.
“I’m not going to bite you or bespell you,” he assured me before I attempted to put up my shields.
“What are you going to do?”
“Kiss you.”
Before I could argue, he moved forward and pressed his lips against mine. I prepared myself to fight off a wave of vamp magic, but none came. Instead he simply kissed me. For a second I stood stunned, because while I expected him to try magic and trickery, an average, everyday kiss was a complete surprise. Okay, to be honest average is probably a poor word choice. Though Zach was more forceful than I’d like, the man definitely had skills, but I probably should have expected that considering his nature. Like the kiss he had stolen before, there was no spark, no electric zing or heady tingling response that I felt with Lex. It only made me feel uncomfortable, like the awkward ending to a bad date. Sensing my unease, Zach pulled away and studied me.
“I really don’t understand you,” he said, shaking his head.
“Yeah I’m just full of mystery.” I stepped away, putting safe distance between us. “I thought you were going to leave me alone to think.”
“Of course. I will see you tomorrow afternoon.”
“Right.” I nodded unenthusiastically.
“Give me a chance, Catherine. You’ll find that I’m not entirely terrible to be around. Rest well.”
With that he left, and all I had for company were my troubled thoughts. I wasn’t going to take his offer, no matter how generous it might be. The vampire was the serpent trying to tempt me into partaking of forbidden fruit, to toss away my morals and my better judgment and allow myself to be a pawn of the undead. A necromancer, like my father. Everything I fought against, everything I was opposed to, and yet living the straight and narrow life had netted me what? Years of hard work with little to show for it. Instead of a house in the suburbs with a white picket fence and 2.5 kids, I had a tiny apartment and two borderline obese housecats. Instead of a loving husband, I had a man who wasn’t willing to change his life in order to be with me, and a gorgeous vampire offering me everything a girl could want in return for a little blood and sympathy.
All I had to do was give in to the dark side and I could live a life of wealth and ease. Happily ever after. Forever.
Frustrated and upset, I didn’t sleep well, my dreams Lex-free and frightening. When I awoke the next morning I once again tasted blood, but this time I couldn’t explain why, and that was even more troubling than the nightmares.
Chapter Nineteen
The king vampire showed up at my door promptly at noon. His pretty green eyes were hidden behind an expensive pair of sunglasses, just as they had been when we met that day at the airport. I felt underdressed standing next to him. Zach wore another expensive dark suit, and I’d picked out a plain black blouse and slacks. I’d wound my hair up into a bun, and with the lack of color in my outfit it gave me a very rigid, severe look, like a Star Trek villainess. For a moment I’d worried that too much time in Vampire Central had been a bad influence, forcing me into an all-black outfit, but I hadn’t found anything else in the closet I didn’t instantly hate.
“Where are we going?” I asked as I followed Zach down the hallway.
“To meet some people. Be advised, we’ll be leaving the building. I have a feeling your faerie family may make an appearance once we’re outside the wards, and I’d appreciate it if you would calmly explain to them that you’re here as my guest.”
“Well I can’t guarantee I can call off Portia before she stabs you in the chest. She’s more than a little upset over losing her only brother.” I folded my arms across my chest, and he nodded.
“Of course. As I’ve said, I had nothing to do with that, and I’m sorry for your loss.”
“It’s going to take a lot more than ‘sorry’ to call off my clan.”
“I know.”
We took the elevator down to the parking garage, where a black stretch limo was waiting for us. I climbed in, relieved that there was no Lovely Laura waiting for me in this one, and Harrison followed after me. The sun was shining brightly as we drove out into the street, though it was barely visible through the tinted windows.
“Doesn’t this bother you?”
“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The sunlight? It’s noon. Shouldn’t all good little vampires be a-snooze in their beds?”
Zach smiled, shaking his head. “I suppose that’s your proof that I’m not a good vampire. But to answer your question, yes, it does bother me, but I can withstand it. There are a few powerful individuals who can endure direct sunlight for long periods of time.”
“And you’re one of them?” I asked, and he nodded. “But you’re practically a baby, how does that work?”
“Good genetics,” he replied, smiling his perfect smile at me. Before I could question him further, our conversation was interrupted by the arrival of Faust as the faerie popped into the seat on the other side of Harrison. “I thought I asked you not to do that.”
Brushing at his gray suit jacket, as though his entrance had caused him to be coated in a cloud of pixie dust, Faust smiled. “There seemed little point to it, considering she already knows what I am, and it’s faster this way. Besides, I thought it best I arrive here before-”
A flurry of things happened all at once, almost too fast for me to follow. Portia appeared in the seat across from us-a compact and ancient-looking crossbow clutched in her hands-and she fired a bolt at Harrison. In a blur of motion the vampire pulled me into his lap like a naughty secretary and surrounded us with his shields, so the bolt bounced off the barrier and buried itself in a nearby seat cushion. With a wave of his hand, Faust knocked the weapon out of Portia’s grasp, and she glared at him. The two faeries hissed at each other in their language, looking as though they were two seconds from tearing each other’s throats out.
“Hey! Cut it out!” I shouted, trying to interrupt them.
“You!” She pointed at Harrison. “Unhand her this instant!”
“She’s fine right where she is,” he replied calmly.
“Portia. What are you doing here?” I asked.
“Rescuing you from that vampire.”
Said vampire was still holding me in his lap, using me as a human shield to supplement his magical one. Curious, I reached up and poked the edge of the barrier. The energy swirled like smoke in dark gray whorls around the tip of my finger, which seemed like an odd reaction-but then again I wasn’t familiar with vampire shields, they all might work that way. I wasn’t sure how he’d managed to surround me instead of pushing me away. Vamp shields were probably designed to protect both the vampire and whoever is being snacked on at the moment.
“You don’t need to rescue me, I volunteered to stay with him until the full moon.”
“I know, but you won’t have to stay with him at all after I kill him,” Portia replied, the soul of sensibility.
“You can’t kill him.”
“Why not?”
Yeah, why not? I frowned, trying to think of a reason. Nothing really came to mind. Turning to him, I waited for him to supply a good excuse as to why we should let him continue his existence.
“Because it’s in everyone’s best interests that I not be harmed,” Zach answered.
“Right, what he said. Now put me down.”
“I rather like you where you are.” The vampire smiled. Faust made a coughing sound, like he was swallowing a laugh, and I shot him an unfriendly look. “Besides, I think it’s best that you stay where you are while your cousin is here, in case she loses her temper agai
n.”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes and then turned to Portia. “Look, he says he didn’t have anything to do with the attack on the castle, and I believe him. But if you want to kill Laura, I’m all in favor of that. I can even start making a list of deserving minions for you while I’m stuck in Vampire Central.”
Faust openly snickered this time, and he smiled. “Oh, I like her.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Harrison ordered me. “But since you’re here, Mistress Silverleaf, you may as well hear what I have to say.”
“I’m really not interested in anything you have to say, vampire.”
“You’ll find this more interesting, I think.”
“I doubt that.” She sniffed.
“We believe we’ve found a cure for the extinction,” Faust commented idly, as though remarking on the weather.
“You? A vampire and a shadowspawn? You expect me to believe that? What sort of fool do you take me for?” Portia eyed them, suspicious.
“Only a fool would ignore a chance like this, Silverleaf,” Faust countered. The temperature inside the limo dropped, and a line of frost spread across the window behind Portia’s head.
Clearing his throat, Harrison interrupted before Portia could do anything violent, like encase the other faerie in a block of ice. “That’s enough. Now, the fact of the matter is this: there is much more that faeries and magicians could be doing to help each other, but aren’t. If we worked together, we could all be in a position of power in this world, and if Faerie was dissolved, your lost fertility would be regained. You would no longer face extinction.”
“Faerie is safe. The elves thought they could survive in this world, and they were wiped out because of it,” she argued, unconvinced.
“They also tried to fight humanity on their own. If we all banded together, and I do mean all varieties of magicians and magical races, then there is nothing that could stop us.”
It was a very militant point of view, which didn’t appeal to me but may have sounded appealing to Portia in her current martial mindset. Raising a thin, pale brow, she eyed the vampire.
As though sensing a weakness, Faust leaned forward. “Think of it. The opportunity to freely walk this world again. No rules, no limitations, no hiding. More importantly, to once again have the chance to hold a babe in your arms and not suffer the knowledge that the child will grow old and be gone in a blink of your eye. Doesn’t it pain you to watch the generations of your bloodline bloom and then wither, like flowers cut before their time?”
Frowning, Portia turned her gaze to me. There was such terrible sadness in her eyes, and I wondered if the faerie blood in my veins was Portia’s. I knew there was a Silverleaf somewhere in my mother’s family tree, but I’d never asked who it was. Should I have been calling Portia grandmother all these years, instead of cousin? Or perhaps I was of Tybalt’s line-a frail, tenuous link to the brother she’d lost. I opened my mouth to ask her, but the car pulled to a stop, and I found myself free of the vampire’s lap as he nudged me back into my seat.
“We’re here. Mistress Silverleaf, you’re welcome to join us, if you’ll attempt to behave yourself and change your attire to something more appropriate. This way, Catherine.”
The door opened and he stepped out into the sunlight. I paused for a moment, glancing at Portia, and watched as the faerie’s features and clothing changed, rippling like melting water and then reforming. With pale blonde hair and fair skin, she looked rather like a Nordic ice princess, which creeped me out as it reminded me a bit too much of Lovely Laura. Portia’s icy wings vanished and her punk princess ensemble changed to a light blue sundress, complete with matching flip-flops. Silently hoping that she’d refrain from slaying anyone, I followed Harrison out of the car.
We were in a residential neighborhood-old Irving Park maybe, from the feel of it, but I didn’t get a good enough look around to orient myself. The limo was parked in the middle of the street, and after Portia and Faust piled out of the car behind me the driver pulled away and left us. Harrison headed toward a nearby house. A small, two-story home, it blended into the row of brick bungalows that lined the street. Wilted flowers and a forlorn garden gnome decorated the front lawn, and the grass was overgrown and in desperate need of mowing. The vampire stopped at the top of the front steps and rang the doorbell, and then was ushered inside by a figure I couldn’t see. Hurrying to catch up, the faeries and I trotted up the stairs and into the house before we ended up locked out on the front porch.
“-that you’re here, Mr. Harrison. We’ve been so grateful for all of your help.” An elderly woman stood in the center of a clean but well-worn living room, one gnarled hand restlessly running through her short silver hair. The musky smell of wet dog permeated the place, and I rubbed at my nose. Glancing around, I expected to find evidence of small, yapping dogs, but there wasn’t a dog hair in sight.
Canine shapeshifters. Fun.
“How bad is this one?” Harrison asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“Bad. Honestly, we’re not sure he’ll make it.” Picking up a tissue from a box atop an end table, she wiped at her eyes. When she finished she finally looked past the vampire and spotted the rest of us clustered near the door. “Oh, hello again, Mr. Faust. Who are your friends?”
“This is the new Titania, Miss Catherine Baker, and her cousin Portia,” Faust explained, nudging me forward into the room.
“Pleased to meet you. Call me Dottie, everyone does. Are you a healer, Miss Baker?”
“I have some skill at it, I’m a witch. Or was a witch,” I corrected. I’m certain I didn’t sound as sure of myself as she would’ve liked, but she seemed encouraged.
“Come with me.” Waving at me to follow her, she led us through a dining room and then down a flight of stairs into the basement. The smell of fur intensified with each step, and my eyes watered. “We only have one at the moment, which normally is a blessing, but this poor boy’s in such awful condition. Well, we’re very grateful for the aid that Mr. Harrison’s given us, and it’s been so helpful in buying medical supplies and the like, but we still can’t find a good healer. There are so few among us, and not many more among his people.”
I nodded in understanding. Not a lot of witches in the necromancer posse, I knew that much was true. Probably not many among the shapeshifters either, considering that once a person is infected with wild magic they tend to lose the ability to control their original magic.
The basement was set up as a sort of medical facility. Empty cots were arranged in rows, like a makeshift barracks. The sharp tang of antiseptic nosed its way through the shapeshifter musk, and it made me sweat. Nervous, I wiped my palms on my slacks as Dottie pushed aside a white sheet that hung from the ceiling and cordoned off a small corner of the room.
A figure lay limp and lifeless on a cot, an I.V. dripping an unknown liquid into his arm. From the body’s broad shoulders and muscular build I guessed it was male, but the face was unrecognizable. Like the shifter I’d judged in the second test, this one was trapped somewhere between canine and human, but it hadn’t gone as far. The nose and upper jaw jutted out from his face, forming the beginnings of a snout, and light gray patches of fur were scattered across his skin. The shifter’s arms lay limply atop the blanket covering him, and his hands were curled into long, wicked claws. An array of bruises covered his skin-black, blue, purple and green-as well as a multitude of cuts and puncture wounds.
“Lord and Lady,” I swore softly. “What happened?”
“The ’yotes raided a facility in Gary. This was the only one they found still alive,” she explained.
“What kind of facility?”
“Government research. Something federal, small but well-funded.”
“They’ve been experimenting on any shapeshifter they can get their hands on,” Harrison commented from behind me.
“Why?”
“Various reasons. We think they’re trying to find a biological source for magic, one they can use for military
means. I’m sure you can imagine how they treat an uncooperative test subject.”
“He’s sedated,” Dottie informed me. “Poor thing’s in so much pain. He won’t be able to heal this until he can think clearly, and he won’t be able to think clearly until we can heal some of this damage. Can you help him?”
I glanced at him, uncertain. It was a tall order, but I could probably manage pain relief. Might be enough to let him heal. Of course I didn’t have any of my tools with me, so I turned to Portia. “I need silver and moonstone.”
“Okay. Hold out your hand.” The faerie held her hand above mine, and a large moonstone the size of an egg attached to a braided silver chain appeared in my palm.
I wrapped the chain around my hand, holding the moonstone tight in my fist, and approached the shapeshifter’s bed. Kneeling on the cold concrete floor next to the cot, I held my right hand over the shifter’s chest. After a moment or two I decided on the words, and then I took a deep breath and centered myself. No pressure.
“Soothe the wild, the pain will end,
Calm and mild, your wounds I mend.”
Over and over I murmured the words in a low, rhythmic chant. The magic spread in a fitful, uneven wave as I moved my hand above the injuries, fighting against the wild magic-it’s called “wild” magic for a reason, it’s unpredictable and hard to control. Like an untamed animal it fought my influence, but with persistent patience I waited it out. I wasn’t sure how long I struggled, but it felt like hours. From time to time I heard the whisper of voices behind me, but they wisely didn’t interrupt me. The cuts and bruises faded, and then, surprisingly, the canine features began to recede. I hadn’t expected to fix those, but I wasn’t going to argue. If my magic was able to go the extra mile, then go me.
My legs were numb by the time I sat back on my heels, finished with my task. In fact I was almost entirely numb, physically and magically, and I wobbled as I got to my feet. I felt a cool hand on my shoulder, steadying me, and was glad to see that it was Portia and not Harrison by my side. “You did good, Kitty,” she assured me.
