Key to Conflict

by Talia Gryphon

  “I know our customs abhor you, Gillian. But such a child, if allowed to live, would eventually manifest into a thing such as this Ghost that you have trapped here. Even diluted Grael blood is dangerous.” Trocar nudged the packet with his foot. “This will not hold him.”

  “Can you find out what we need to know without setting him loose?” Gillian was beginning to get exasperated.

  “I believe I can. If nothing else, I can seal him within these stones so that he cannot trouble you again. When he is returned to his haunt, I can insure that he never leaves again.”

  Trocar paused a moment, staring at Gillian, who squirmed uncomfortably under his icy gaze. “Gillian…you said he attacked you. Tell me what you mean.”

  Gillian looked away, unwilling to embarrass herself to the tall Elf. Pavel stepped forward and spoke up. “He used her, Dark One. Many times.”

  A palpable chill emanated from the Dark Elf. “This is true?”

  His voice dropped lower, silky, soothing. “Gillian, tell me.”

  Putting an arm on her shoulders, he gently drew her to him. She shuddered but he knew it wasn’t from his touch. “I apologize for this one of my race. Evil we may be, but we have no need to rape. That is not the manner of any Elf.”

  What he said was true. It was probably the only solid unwritten rule in all the Elf Clans. That and no Grael-Human crossings. No Elf had ever had to resort to rape. Their sheer unearthly beauty was enough to convince anyone to lay down with them. Even the Grael with their well-earned bad reputation could convince the most unwilling to comply.

  “I will see justice done to this betrayer of my people, Gillian. This I promise you.” Again, the sparkle in the air.

  A vow of truth. Gillian didn’t envy Dante if the Grael turned their sights on him. Whatever Trocar meant, it wouldn’t be pleasant, that was for damn sure.

  Luis revved the engines and they lifted off. He radioed ahead to see what kind of transport they could wrangle. They’d have to take what they could get since this wasn’t an official mission…yet.

  CHAPTER

  27

  D IONYSUS and Maeti boarded his jet at the Helsinki airport with a smile and a wave. The close call with Maeti’s life had spooked the Greek Lord and he wished to take her away into the Wild for a time. Maeti wanted to stay with Gillian, but realized that she needed Dionysus as much as he needed her. She couldn’t bear to see the fear in the eyes of her mate. Dionysus was well and truly in love. Gillian had become his second priority.

  In truth, Gillian was relieved that Dionysus was leaving. Maeti she would miss; the female had become a close friend, but she understood on at least a surface level their commitment to each other. What it meant was Aleksei would no longer have eyes and ears tuned in on her every move and activity. She had known that Dionysus was reporting back to the Romanian Count, and didn’t relish the thought of either Aleksei’s worry or his anger.

  The remaining group, Gillian, Kimber, Luis, Pavel and Trocar, watched as the plane lifted off on its southern journey toward Greece. They’d all meet back at Castle Rachlav soon, hopefully. As the strobe lights from the plane faded into the black of the night, Gill turned back to her friends.

  “I want to thank you all for being here and coming with me. Other than Pavel, none of you know Tanis, but I can assure you this goes way beyond Tanis’s kidnapping. We have to start knocking heads somewhere and this is as good a place as any.”

  With that, she locked eyes with Luis. “Captain? How are we getting to England?”

  Luis smiled and pointed. There was an ancient C-130 Hercules cargo plane being fueled up at the end of the runway. Another pilot was jogging across the tarmac toward them. Human, from the lithe but heavy way he ran. Interesting how easily she could spot her own kind after so much time with the Vampires and Weres.

  The man reached them, snapping a salute to her and to Luis, nodding to the others. “Captain Clemente? I’m Major Josiah Du Lac. I will be your day pilot.”

  Turning to Gillian, he flashed a brilliant smile and extended his hand. “Captain Key, I presume.”

  Du Lac was an attractive light-skinned black man with cover-model looks and a body to match. He was also a crack marine pilot who was tickled to be assigned to even a portion of the legendary team of Key and Company.

  Gillian looked at the proffered hand and shook it warmly. “Thank you, Major. Rank acknowledgement isn’t necessary since I am retired from active duty, but I appreciate the gesture.”

  “Once a marine, always a marine, Captain.” Du Lac’s personality was sparkling and Gill had to smile.

  “Yeah, you’re right. Now let’s get this bucket in the air shall we?”

  She moved off toward the C-130 Hercules with Trocar muttering to no one in particular, “Does anyone have any semblance of a plan in mind?” They all ignored him.

  Everyone piled into the giant aircraft and secured themselves on the crew benches lining the inside walls of the plane. That is, everyone but Luis. Since it would be dawn by the time they reached London, the remaining Vampire was secured in a U.S. military regulation casket.

  Pulling cargo netting over it, they affix it to the D-rings amidst huge crates of additional equipment and supplies bound for England. As a civilian, Gillian wasn’t high enough on anyone’s rung at the moment to commandeer an aircraft for her sole use; they’d gotten lucky.

  Major Du Lac switched on the propellers and the massive engines roared to life. Gillian leaned back against the side of the aircraft as it began to taxi out, trying to figure out how to begin to look for Tanis when they reached Britain. After they were in the air, she and Kimber got as comfortable as they could to grab a little rest. The Elf and the Werewolf eyed each other warily but neither slept.

  The huge plane landed after an uneventful flight, bouncing once before settling onto the tarmac as Du Lac hit the brakes to bring it to a halt some minutes later. After Du Lac shut off the engines, Gill and the others unstrapped and untangled Luis’s casket from the netting. The Major went to find a gurney in a nearby supply shed. Trocar or Pavel would have been able to handle the casket alone, but no one wanted to draw undue attention to themselves at the moment.

  Other personnel came to unload the rest of the cargo, hardly giving the small party of four and the silver casket a second glance. Gill thanked Du Lac earnestly for his help and discretion. He assured them he was available if they needed him for the return trip.

  “I’ll finagle it somehow, Captain, don’t you worry.” After a crisp mutual salute, he took his leave and the rest of them got the hell out of full view.

  “Now what?” Kimber wanted to know as they moved inside an old hangar housing dusty World War II aircraft and a myriad of crates.

  “I’m thinking!” Gill snapped, then realized she was being cranky. “Sorry Kimber, I am trying to figure out how the hell to even begin to locate Tanis.”

  A dark, silky voice softly suggested, “Perhaps finding the location of the Vampire community would be in order.” Trocar was smiling, but it didn’t reflect in his eyes.

  Gillian regarded him for a moment. “That would make sense. I’m not thinking logically at the moment.”

  The tall Grael moved to her. “But think you must, Gillyflower.” She grimaced at his old nickname for her as he continued. “This is not like you, Captain, to be so overcome with emotion that you allow yourself to be distracted.” He lifted a crystalline brow.

  She blushed. “I am not overcome with emotion, you lunatic! I am frustrated and uncertain of what our best course of action should be. I don’t want to get everyone killed in the process of tracking down Tanis!”

  “You should have thought of that before then, Kemo Sabe.” That was from Kimber, who was glaring at her disdainfully, hands on hips. “Whatever it is, Cap’n, you need to snap out of it and get your shit together before we walk into something we can’t handle.”

  Gillian went white. That pissed her off. They were right, but she’d forgotten they could be just as tactless a
s she could be. “Fine. Just give me a minute. I will get a handle on this.”

  Pacing, she tapped her front teeth with a fingernail as she launched a dozen plans in her mind and discarded each of them. The others left her alone, letting her decide what to do.

  Kimber went with Pavel to track down food for the four of them. Luis would find his own meal when he rose in the evening. Trocar gave Gillian a wide berth, focusing on a book in his pack while his former captain paced the floor of the dusty hangar.

  Gillian took the time to think and reflect. While in the service, she’d been selected for work in counterintelligence. The Marines had trained her in anticipation of her working for Special Forces; allowing her to work on a degree in forensic psychology, specializing in counterterrorism. When she made stellar exam marks, they fronted the bill for her PhD while she was still in the service. They’d fast tracked her and had not been sorry.

  Captain Key, PhD, had run her crack Special Forces unit efficiently but quietly. Every mission had been a success, every hostage recovered, every assassination carried out with precision and daring. No lives had been lost, except for one hostage who had been killed within hours of his abduction; losses in her unit had been minimal. She’d officially retired early at twenty-six, with a chestful of medals, the respect of the top brass and the unswerving loyalty of her unit, then had gone right into Field Operations.

  Now, two years out, she was in her prime, quietly and efficiently gaining professional acclaim within both groups she worked for. Right now, nothing was more important than rescuing her friend and keeping everyone alive while doing it. She hoped she didn’t fuck it up.

  What to do, what to do…? she thought, tapping her teeth. Trocar was right; contacting the local Vampires would be logical, but it could also be the worst move they could make. She had no idea of who was allied with whom. A mistake at this point could be fatal for everyone, including Tanis. No, there had to be another way.

  Gillian grabbed her laptop and plunked down on a dusty crate. She had a satellite connection for backup and didn’t need a cable or port at the moment. Searching the Net, she looked for any establishments in London and the surrounding areas that might be Vampire-owned or at least affiliated.

  Her mind was racing endlessly, dividing her attention to focus on more than one issue at once. It was a trait that she had learned early on in her Marine Corps career and what had made her one of their exemplary commanders. It had also allowed her to look at the big picture while examining the details. Right now, she didn’t like the conclusions she was beginning to come to. Being out of Romania and away from the shelter of her Vampire friends was giving full reign to her inherent cautiousness. She’d been lax in letting someone else call the shots and take care of her.

  Since the world of the Paramortal had been known for thousands of years, going public twenty years ago for the many denizens had been fairly painless. Everyone romanticized the idea of Vampires, Elves, the many varieties of Fey and Ghosts in their midst, were a little more cautious about the Lycanthropes, Grael and true wizards, yet drew the line at very little about the activities of non-Humans. The Paramortal world had blended seamlessly into the world of the Human. Conflicts had been few and brief, generally settled in the councils or courts of the respective offender.

  There were few communities who did not welcome their non-Human counterparts with at least a smile, still fewer who were holdouts to the “evil” of the non-Human. If Dracula was becoming more obvious and aggressive in his bid for power elsewhere as he was in Romania, Gillian felt the first glimmer of real fear that an all-out war just might erupt between Humans and the Paramortal world.

  Humans would definitely come out on the short end of the deal. There was no way they could fight real magic from creatures that were inherently magic. It would be a proverbial and literal bloodbath and would accomplish Dracula’s overall plan, whether he survived or not. In the brave new world, Humans would be the indentured race.

  Those were not nice thoughts.

  CHAPTER

  28

  S CRATCHING her head and trying not to think what she was thinking, Gillian noted some businesses, nightclubs, restaurants and events that might be owned or managed by a Vampire proprietor. They’d check those out tonight. Turning her attention to local and international news, she saw what she feared. There were more unexplained disappearances and violent deaths, besides the Paranormal psychologists that she already knew about, in various other occupations and industries.

  Speculation was that there were a few rogue groups of werebeasts who were at fault. Authorities reported that the perpetrators would be hunted down and brought to justice in council. So far, public opinion hadn’t shifted to the negative. But Dracula was reaching out further and preying on the unwary. It was only a matter of time before it became more obvious and all hell broke loose.

  When Kimber and Pavel returned, Gillian shared with everyone what she was speculating as they ate. This led to some heated and excited discussion from Pavel about werebeasts taking the blame and Kimber figuring they ought to go out with guns blazing and kick everyone’s asses. Trocar smiled in amusement, then, in a condescending tone, concurred with Gillian about the potential for a global problem between the two existing worlds, eliciting a heated debate with Kimber. Gill let them vent, sitting back and watching as they worked through it like they always did.

  Pavel was the random factor at the moment. He was new and didn’t quite understand that your fellow USMC buddies could want to rip your heart out in one moment yet walk through fire to rescue you the next. Trocar and Kimber gave him a briefing of their history and assured him that all hostility was only superficial…well, mostly. The blonde wolf shook his head and moved imperceptibly toward Kimber, eyeing the tall Elf with eyes that were lovely, blue and very chilly.

  After Luis rose to feed and then returned, they got organized with their next move. Splitting up made the most sense. They could cover more ground and wouldn’t be as obvious to any locals. Gill called for a taxi to meet them at the cargo entrance to the airfield, then had them dropped off in Soho to find some suitable clothing. The places they would be carousing had specific dress requirements. A lot of information could be gained from the denizens of the night, both Human and not.

  The Soho district is a wonderful place in London. Full of every sort of funky, trendy, Goth, or sex shop anyone could imagine. Gill and Kimber decided to go with a trendy look and exited the dark little shop wearing what could only be described as something from Dial-a-Slut and Tawdry Togs for Tasty Trollops.

  Kimber was in a black-and-puce leather miniskirt with a fuchsia strapless top edged along the entire top seam with marabou feathers dyed to match the material. Over it all was a Harley biker jacket with lots of zippers and snaps so that she sparkled with silver slashes and dots under the streetlamps.

  She had on thigh-high black bitch boots and was carrying a purse that was as wide as she was tall. The fact that the purse concealed a lightweight aluminum crossbow, wooden bolts, miniflamethrower and an uzi was irrelevant—you couldn’t see what was in it, anyway. The purse was made out of poofy purple parachute material, stuffed with batting that had been sewn in horizontal rings around the bag. It looked like she’d skinned the Michelin Man then dyed his hide to make a bag. Her Beretta Cougar 8000 9mm was strapped to the upper inside of her thigh. With her skirt as short as it was, she’d have no trouble accessing it.

  Gillian’s outfit was no better: black leather jacket with a pair of red-sequined, fanged lips embroidered on the back and scarlet-sequined fringe made her look as if the jacket were bleeding constantly. The shirt was a delicate shell pink tank top, with “Bite Me” in silver sequins over her generous chest. Her pants were faux leopard skin, tight but made of lycra and she had flat calf-high boots on in the same leopard print.

  The backpack she wore instead of a purse resembled a large quiver and held a veritable arsenal as well. Mini phosphorus grenades and a cute little launcher for them; a dart g
un with silver nitrate–loaded syringes; an identical crossbow to the one Kimber carried plus bolts; a sawed off .12-gauge shotgun; extra shells and a mini LED ultraviolet flashlight.

  In addition, she had a small packet of salt, sandalwood incense, willow oil, basil, a copper dish, a lighter and flash powder that would allow her to bind any errant spirit that pestered them long enough for them to get away. Her trusty Glock 22C was strapped to her waist in back and a Walther PPK 7.65ml was in a belly band in front. It was a smaller, lighter gun than the Glock, but it still had a delivery like a brick through a plate glass window.

  “Gillian?”

  She turned at her name and stared openmouthed at the Vampire coming toward them. Luis looked hot. The tall Puerto Rican Vampire was dressed in a black silk shirt laced at his chest and wrists, very tight black linen pants, boots and a black cape lined with emerald green silk. Gillian rolled her eyes as Luis swept his cape back and bowed theatrically to her and Kimber.

  Kimber curtsied, giggling, then launched into a full belly laugh. Gill and Luis followed the direction of her eyes and gasped before joining her in laughter. The elegant Dark Elf smiled and twirled, showing off his own red leather cape and outfit apparently from Red Riding Hood Does Bondage. The domination outfit, which covered his lithe six-foot, two-inch muscular form, encased him in screaming red leather from neck to feet. Trocar managed to look vaguely obscene since every ebony muscle was clearly defined—the leather was lightweight dragonet skin and clung to every chiseled bulge. Every bulge. Kimber gave a wolfish whistle at the Grael’s endowments so lusciously displayed. Gillian could only laugh and point.