Crimson Death

by Laurell K. Hamilton

  "We killed the one in Colorado," I said.

  "We had to kill the one in--"

  "Flannery!" Nolan snapped, and stopped him from saying the location.

  "I'm betting it wasn't in Ireland, was it?" I asked.

  "That's classified," Nolan said.

  "And now we've got vampires spreading in Ireland, which your gentle friends should have helped prevent," Jake said. He looked at me and there was something in that look. Were we to blame for all of this? Had killing the Mother of All Darkness unleashed some of her power to spread through the world? Or had fear of her power kept other necromancers in check, since she had given standing orders to the Harlequin to kill all necromancers on sight?

  Flannery nodded, solemn, almost sad. "Here in the countryside the land is still alive in the way it's always been, but something is wrong in Dublin. Parts of the city are losing their . . . for lack of a better word, magic."

  "Do your friends know what's happening?" I asked.

  "No, only that unnatural death is spreading through the city. Corpses become part of the earth here, Marshal. They do not rise and walk as the undead."

  "They do now," I said.

  He nodded.

  "That's why you didn't want Anita to come over, because you didn't want to bring more death magic here," Edward said.

  "Yes, and if she had felt like the other one that we killed elsewhere, I'd have done everything in my power to send her back on the next plane. We don't need more death here, Marshal Forrester."

  "What if the only way to stop the vampires from spreading is to kill them?" I asked.

  Flannery looked solemn, but said, "Whatever is happening in the city, I don't want it to spread further. If it's not stopped, then Ireland will cease to be Ireland."

  "Let's start with Anita looking over the crime scene photos and forensics," Edward said.

  "You really think I'm going to see something you missed?"

  "You're the only one I trust to know more about the undead than I do."

  "That's high praise," I said.

  "I'm not a necromancer, and I'm not about to marry the head vampire of America. I also don't have another vampire at my feet in a bag who will wake up and answer questions for the police."

  "Your intimate knowledge of the vampires was a point in your favor for being involved in this investigation, Marshal Blake," Flannery said.

  "And a point against you," Nolan said.

  "I know, I know. How can I keep being the scourge of vampirekind if I'm sleeping with the enemy?"

  "Something like that," Flannery said, trying to take the sting out of it with a smile.

  "Funny how so many people hate the fact that I'm . . . intimate with the monsters, but they're all willing to have me use that intimate knowledge to help their asses out of trouble." It came out a little more bitter than I'd planned, but I really was tired of it.

  "I'm sorry for the hypocrisy," Flannery said.

  "Me, too."

  "I think my friends will like your magic, Blake. They don't share the same prejudices as humans."

  "No, they have their own," Nolan said.

  I expected Flannery to argue the point, but he didn't. He just let it go. Truth is truth, I guess, and the truth is everyone everywhere is prejudiced about something. Why should the Fey be any different?

  48

  WHERE DO YOU go to meet Fey in Dublin, Ireland? A pub, of course. Somewhere in the back of my head I was wanting to see Irish countryside, maybe a moor, or a bog, or something that didn't look like a street in most older cities. Yeah, Dublin is centuries older than our entire country, but that just meant the streets were narrower and they reminded me of parts of New York and Boston, except different. Dublin was different and not like any city I'd been in before, but it wasn't different enough to conquer all my movie, book, anthropology, and folklore dreams of Ireland. So when Flannery walked us up to a small, narrow-fronted pub, I had to fight off my disappointment. I wanted some greenery, damn it.

  Nathaniel was with me, Damian still strapped to his back. Flannery had been very particular about who was invited to this little shindig. He had picked out all the people that I was metaphysically connected to, as in all my animals to call. I didn't like that he had been able to pick them out of the group so easily, but it boded well for his magic. If he hadn't been able to pick them out, I'd have thought less of his mystical abilities; sometimes there was just no satisfying me.

  Edward had liked it a lot less than I had, because he and Nolan had to stay with the car. Jake and Kaazim stayed with the car, too. The rest of my people went on to the hotel to check us in, but they, like Edward, wanted to be nearby just in case. I didn't argue; they were supposed to be my bodyguards, which meant I needed to let them do their jobs until we stepped inside the police station. Once inside there, we'd renegotiate, but that was later. Right now we were inside a pub.

  It was like a lot of older bars with the entryway a little raised so that you stood exposed in the dark atmosphere, waiting for your eyes to adjust, while everyone else in the bar could see you perfectly. I'd seen it in so many older bars that I suspected it had a purpose other than making me feel insanely exposed. Maybe it gave anyone in the bar who wanted to duck out the back time to run and hide? It always made me feel like a target, but maybe that was just me.

  Flannery walked down the few shallow steps as if he owned the place. He didn't feel like a target. He led us to the long, curving sweep of the bar, which was made of dark, well-varnished wood that gleamed in the low light. He didn't make us sit at the bar, thank goodness. Sitting with my back to an entire room of strangers just didn't work for me. Flannery got the attention of the bartender and motioned to some empty tables farther into the room. The bartender nodded an acknowledgment and went back to serving the men at the bar. I couldn't remember what time it was there, but they seemed busy, even though it felt early in the day to me. Hello, jet lag.

  My eyes had adjusted, so I could see the people at the tables look at us as we followed Flannery through the big open room. Most of the tables were full, but there was a lot more room between tables than I was used to seeing in bars back home. They weren't trying to pack in as many customers as possible, which seemed like bad business, but it wasn't my pub or my area of expertise. I actually liked the more open seating plan, but it seemed odd all the same. The looks as we passed between the tables were a little odd, too. It wasn't the normal way people look at a girl or even at strangers; it was almost hostile. I tried to see our group from an outsider's perspective. Seven tall, athletic-looking men and me. Even Flannery moved like someone who'd had training. It's hard to explain, but if you know what you're looking for, you can usually spot a police officer, soldier, or just someone who is comfortable with organized violence. Hell, sometimes you can spot people comfortable with disorganized violence. Either way, if you know what you're looking at, having this many of us in your local pub might make you unhappy. Of course, most civilians wouldn't see the potential in all of us, but the looks we were getting from the tables said that most of these men did. And it was mostly men; the waitress running food out to the tables and I seemed to be the only women in the place. In St. Louis, that would have been unusual, but it was my first trip to Dublin, so I didn't know if maybe the Irishwomen didn't like this pub. Or maybe there was something else going on and the male customers didn't want women in the way.

  I had Nathaniel with me, and he had Damian still unconscious in the duffel bag on his back. If we got into a real fight, I was going to be seriously pissed that they were getting endangered. Flannery and I would have words if this went pear-shaped.

  In order for us to all sit down at the table, I was way too close to Nicky's shoulder, so he kindly put it across the back of my chair and part of Nathaniel's because his arm span was just that wide. Damian was still safely tucked in Nathaniel's bag at our feet, so if we had to get out fast, it was going to make it harder. We'd already discussed that Nathaniel's only job was getting Damian out safely, if w
e needed to move with a capital "M." We hadn't expected trouble, but planning for it was automatic.

  Nicky cuddled closer to me and, I realized, closer to Nathaniel on the other side of me. He was sitting like that so I wasn't squished against his shoulders, but it was also a way of showing that we were both under his protection. For Nathaniel I liked the extra help; for me I'd have preferred to not need it, but in a normal bar, having a man show you were part of a couple with him could short-circuit a lot of misunderstandings. My ego could take being seen as under Nicky's protection if it would keep us from having trouble with Nathaniel and Damian beside us. Dev was at the end of the table, which put his back to the main door, which he hadn't liked, but he'd wanted to sit beside Nathaniel and I'd wanted him beside me, so . . . He could have made Ethan sit with his back to the door, but then Dev couldn't have held hands with either of us and he wanted to touch more than to be safe, which was one reason Dev wasn't one of my main guards when I could help it. Maybe there was more than one reason why he had fallen for Asher; he'd have made the same trade-off between public affection and safety.

  I leaned over the table toward Flannery's smiling face and whispered, "Why don't the locals seem to like us very much?"

  "Some of them don't like that I'm working with a unit that's supposed to help control them."

  "You didn't think to mention that before you had me bring Nathaniel and Damian?"

  Domino leaned in on one side of Flannery and gave a low growl. Ethan leaned in on the other side and did the same. Flannery's eyebrows went up a little bit, but he kept smiling. "We aren't in danger, Marshal Blake. They just aren't all in favor of putting together a human paramilitary group to police supernatural beings on Irish soil. Surely, you can understand their issue with it."

  "Sure, so long as that issue doesn't rain all over me and mine."

  Ethan and Domino leaned in a little closer to him. Domino sniffed along his face a little more noisily than was needed, but sometimes it's about the effect on the person you're trying to intimidate. I was unhappy enough with Flannery that I sort of enjoyed seeing his pulse beating faster in the side of his neck.

  "Are you actually threatening me, Marshal?" Flannery wasn't smiling when he said it. I couldn't blame him, but I was pissed.

  Nathaniel leaned in and spoke low. "Don't piss off the local police because you're worried about me, Anita."

  "Just for future reference, Flannery, I'm seriously protective of Nathaniel."

  "I understand that you and Devereux are both dating him," he said, looking at the two men holding hands, "but I didn't realize that all your men felt the same way."

  "I just like being scary," Domino said.

  "Peer pressure," Ethan said. "I never could resist peer pressure." He said it flat with no hint that he was kidding.

  Flannery looked at him, obviously trying to figure out if he was kidding. He didn't look at Domino; I think he just believed him. Sometimes I forgot that Domino had started life working for the old-fashioned mob. He had no police record from it, or he couldn't have come on this trip, but the lack of record was probably not due to him never having done anything worth getting arrested for, rather to him just never getting caught. As he leaned into Flannery, invading the hell out of his personal space, and implying, though not stating, that he'd hurt him if he made me unhappy, Domino seemed very comfortable. Maybe I was wasting his talents on bodyguard and police work; too bad I didn't have need for a leg-breaker, and if I did, I had Nicky. Or me, for that matter. I tried to never give an order that I wasn't willing to follow personally--lead from the front and all that.

  Nicky spoke low to me. "We're all picking up your anger and your worry for Nathaniel. Tone it down."

  I took a deep breath and let it out slow, counting the seconds as I did it. My worry for Nathaniel was at the base of all of it. Fear so often leads to anger. I was better than this. I could do better than this, so I did my deep breathing, my slow count, and finally had to close my eyes with Nathaniel's hand still in mine, and the solidity of Nicky's arm across both our shoulders. It didn't help all that much. I had to let go of Nathaniel's hand and sit forward enough that I couldn't touch Nicky's arm, and try to find just me in the metaphysical mix. I had to find my quiet center devoid of anyone else, which was a lot harder than it sounded with them all sitting so close to me.

  I opened my eyes slowly and was able to look at Flannery without that spurt of fear and anger. I felt almost nothing as I looked at him across the table. I'd told my metaphysical mentor, Marianne, that the quiet peace of meditation was similar to the quiet before I shot someone. She hadn't liked that much, but one kind of emotional calm is very like another. Sociopaths must be some of the calmest people on the planet.

  Both Ethan and Domino had eased back from Flannery, giving him elbow room at the table again. "That was intense," Domino said.

  "I don't normally pick up your emotions that strongly," Ethan said.

  "My apologies to everyone on that side of the table," I said.

  "We'll forgive you almost anything," Domino said. "It's our host you need to convince."

  I looked into Flannery's brown eyes. "Do you forgive me, or am I on your shit list for letting my anger leak all over everything?"

  "As the person being threatened, no, but as a practitioner of the arts, that was fascinating."

  "I'll take halfway forgiven," I said. "It's probably more than I deserve after that. I really am better at control than this, normally."

  "Jet lag can affect a lot of things, Blake."

  "Are you worse at controlling your powers when you travel internationally?" I asked.

  "Yes, but I have to convince the local Fey to cooperate with me before I'm dangerous, so it's not as large an issue for me." He glanced at the two weretigers still sitting on either side of him. "Would you have really hurt me here in the pub, in front of witnesses?"

  "I'd prefer no witnesses, but if Anita said go, then yeah," Domino said.

  Ethan shrugged, and said, "You seem like a nice person, but she's the boss."

  A voice from behind them said, "She's a great deal more than that to you."

  We looked up and an elderly woman was just standing there, only a few feet behind Ethan. I'd have sworn that she hadn't been there before, and because the room was too open and not that crowded, there was nowhere for her to have come from. If she'd been a vampire, I'd have said she'd mind-fucked us, but she so was not the walking dead. In fact, I don't know if I'd ever felt so much life. It was the way I'd felt a few times in the forest or in the mountains--those moments when you just suddenly feel how alive everything around you is, and you can almost breathe in the energy of every humming insect, flying bird, windblown tree, or silent, heated moment of sunlight.

  The woman was shorter than me, a little bent forward over a cane. Her dress was long enough to touch the floor and covered in small blue flowers over a lighter blue background. A red shawl that looked soft and hand-knitted covered most of her upper body. Her skin was browned from years of being outdoors, so her face reminded me of a dark brown walnut. A cheerful, smiling walnut with eyes that were a rich blue and seemed to belong to a much younger face. She leaned heavily on the dark wood of her cane as she moved smoothly toward us, with only the slightest hint of a limp. It was obvious that whatever had caused her to need the cane had happened long ago since she used the cane so expertly.

  Flannery got up, smiling, and went to meet her partway. "Auntie Nim," he said, and kissed her on her cheek. She laughed when he kissed her, and for just a moment, I thought I heard birdsong.

  Flannery's auntie Nim made me want to smile, but I didn't know why, which made me suspicious and not want to smile at all. He offered her his arm, which she took with more bubbling laughter. It made me think of a burbling stream in some pristine forest with birds singing, so why didn't I just give in to the good feelings and enjoy them? It was me and I was wearing a badge. I was on the clock to try to save lives in Dublin. I'd give in to euphoric magic and happy l
ittle old ladies after we'd accomplished something. Besides, it was magic that I didn't understand, but it seemed like it was trying to cloud my mind, and that wasn't cool.

  Domino and Ethan were watching her come this way, and they seemed to be fighting not to smile.

  "It's okay, Anita," Dev said.

  "How do you know that?" I asked.

  He smiled. "I'm not just here because I'm pretty."

  "What?" I asked, because the comment made no sense to me.

  He reached his free hand across the table to me. I didn't want to compromise my gun hand in a strange bar in an alien city with known magic walking this way. Did I think I'd need to shoot our way out? No, but . . . holding hands with both hands right that moment would make me feel less relaxed, not more.

  I shook my head.

  "Does he mean so little to you, Anita Blake?" the woman asked as Flannery pulled a chair out for her and helped her settle herself with the shawl and long skirt.

  "It's not that," I said.

  Flannery made Ethan move a chair down so he could sit beside his aunt, which put her closest to Nicky on the other side. If he was fazed by our new tablemate it didn't show, not even in so much as a twitch of the arm he had across our shoulders.

  Auntie Nim smiled at us, and it was as if the sun had come out from behind the ever-present clouds. I felt like a flower that had to turn toward her. It was as if the air in the pub was suddenly fresher and easier to breathe. Her eyes, which were like the rich blue of autumn skies or like cornflowers, were startling in the dark brown of her face. Had they been that color a moment before? Surely I'd have noticed eyes that blue even from a distance? I couldn't remember.

  Dev stood up and moved around behind Nathaniel and me. His hand was incredibly warm against the side of my face. I started to ask him to sit back down, because no matter how good it felt, it seemed inappropriate for a business meeting, but then he touched Nathaniel's face, too. It was like Dev's touch was a key inserting itself in the lock of us. He turned that key with the near fever heat of his skin against ours, and suddenly things looked different.

  Now Auntie Nim's eyes weren't the blue of sky and flowers, but gray like clouds and rain. Her face stayed the same, as if the lines of age in her face and the weathered tan of her skin didn't bother her enough to use illusion to change it. I liked that, or she didn't have enough magic to hide that part of her appearance, but I hoped it was the first, and not the second. She seemed tireder, and less bursting with sunlight and birdsong.