Mandy M. Roth - Magic Under Fire (Over a Dozen Tales of Urban Fantasy)

by Unknown

  Damn. That didn’t tell me anything. Allcot and his clan had moved to New Orleans after the hurricane all but wiped out the city. He’d also set up a number of foundations to help bring humans home, but not before the vampires staked out the section of town known as Mid City. “I see. It was good of you to help.”

  “It wasn’t nearly enough,” he said and then knocked on Allcot’s carved wooden door. Just as his knuckles hit the wood, the door opened seemingly on its own to an office bathed in gold silk and ornate antique furnishings. Jackson nodded to me. “After you.”

  I strode into the office, already reaching for my pen and notepad.

  “That’s a little old school, isn’t it?” Jackson said, eyeing my admin supplies.

  “She knows better than to transcribe using electronics,” Allcot said from behind his desk. He stood, his expensive dark gray suit and a red, silk tie doing nothing to conceal his lanky teenage frame. While he appeared no older than seventeen, Eadric Allcot had been a vamp for at least a century. “We don’t allow devices that can record conversations in my offices here or at Cryrique.”

  “Of course not,” Jackson said, his smile vanishing.

  Eadric Allcot owned the vampire corporation known as Cryrique, a research facility for medications, creationism, and mind enhancers all geared toward vampires. It was a multi-million-dollar company. Allcot took the possibility of corporate spies seriously.

  Allcot moved around to the front of the desk and waved a hand. “Sit. Both of you. This is more of a social visit.”

  No it wasn’t. Although Allcot leaned against his desk, his feet weren’t crossed at the ankle like they usually were, and his dark, blue-gray eyes were pinched with a hint of irritation. I glanced between the two and frowned when I noted Jackson had yet to sit.

  Allcot raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Am I keeping you from something?”

  Jackson’s expression went blank, then he glanced at me. An easy smile claimed his lips, and suddenly he was all charm. “Yes. My date with Ms. Douvant. I have to admit I was rather enjoying my time with her in your club. Your hospitality has been unparalleled.”

  Date. How did I get here, working for vampires? Last year at this time I was in Pensacola making plans to open an event planning business with my best friend in New Orleans. But two days before we were to sign the lease on our office space, she went missing. My chest tightened, and I forced myself to turn my attention back to Allcot.

  “Ms. Douvant, Mr. Barré will be staying in Cryrique’s guest quarters in the residence building. Supply him with the key and inform security. My staff has already taken care of his luggage.”

  “Yes, Mr. Allcot,” I said and pretended to make a note.

  He turned to Barré. “Our meeting is scheduled for nine a.m. Have Ms. Douvant bring you to my office. We’ll go over the details of our deal then.”

  Deal? Cryrique was going into business with the Barrés? Now that was interesting. Only the stony expression on Allcot’s face indicated he was less than thrilled about the prospect.

  “I look forward to our negotiations.” Barré held out his hand to Allcot.

  My boss cut his gaze to Jackson’s outstretched hand and without saying a word, he moved behind his desk and picked up the phone. After pressing a button, he said, “We’re ready for you now.”

  Jackson stuffed his hand into his jeans pocket and rocked back on his heels as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

  Impressive, considering Allcot had just dismissed him. Whatever business arrangement was in the works, it clearly wasn’t one my boss was excited about.

  The side door opened and in walked a blonde beauty I recognized as Pandora, Allcot’s consort. A striking brunette wearing a skintight miniskirt and six inch stilettos followed her, and without even a glance at me, she moved to Jackson’s side and ran a hand down his arm.

  “Well, hello there, handsome,” she said in a sultry voice. “Tonight’s your lucky night.”

  He took a moment to scan her lithe body from head to toe. “And why is that?”

  Her lips curled into a seductive smile as she slowly ran a blood-red fingernail down his neck. “Because I’m on my way to Haven, and you’re going to be my escort.”

  Jackson glanced at me. “Haven?”

  “It’s a vamp only club, with a live buffet,” I said, my tone flat. Letting a vampire feed from your neck for money was considered one step above prostitution. And while I didn’t personally have a problem with vamps feeding from humans as long as there was consent, most women who worked at those places were objectified and sneered at by society. It wasn’t a pretty scene.

  “Thanks,” Jackson said while removing the brunette’s hand from his arm, “but I already have plans.”

  Her eyes widened with surprise. “Plans? But I thought…” The vampire’s voice trailed off when Jackson moved to my side.

  “Ready to go?” he asked me.

  I nodded, stood, and turned my attention to Allcot. Pandora was standing beside him, a bemused smile on her face as she watched us. “Anything else?” I asked.

  Allcot crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Jackson. “That’s all.”

  Jackson mimed tipping his hat at Allcot, then once again put his hand on the small of my back and guided me out of the office.

  2

  “Y ou could’ve gone with her,” I said once we were in the cab, headed toward the Cryrique building.

  Jackson shook his head. “No, I couldn’t. I’m already on a date.”

  I let out a small huff of laughter. “That’s very gentlemanly of you, but we both know this isn’t a date. Meeting with you tonight is just part of my job.”

  “Job, huh?” He sat back, stretching his arm across the length of the seat. “We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we?”

  “What does that mean?”

  But instead of answering me, he leaned forward, speaking to the taxi driver. “Can you make a left at the next light?”

  “Sure, man,” the driver said, glancing at us in the rearview mirror. “Change of destination?”

  “Yes. There’s a club in Bayou Saint John called Lights Out. You know it?”

  “Vamp joint, right?” he said without hesitation.

  “Not exactly. More like a supernatural place.” Jackson turned to me. “Is that all right? I assume since you work for Allcot, you’re comfortable in that kind of environment.”

  “Sure,” I said, but my pulse had quickened. Lights Out was an exclusive club that catered to the most powerful. You had to have serious connections to get past their velvet ropes. I’d only heard stories about the place, but they always included the rich and famous along with the best entertainment acts to come through New Orleans.

  “Good. Just because you’re being paid to babysit me doesn’t mean we can’t have some fun.” He sat back again, this time moving a tiny bit closer to me.

  I was more excited than I cared to admit. My employment at Cryrique had afforded me some interesting experiences, like meeting Jackson Barré, but I had never been on a VIP list. Trying to keep the dopey grin off my face, I allowed myself a friendly smile and said, “Sounds fun.”

  He let out a low chuckle, and relaxed beside me, taking in the sights of New Orleans until the cabbie pulled to a stop in front of a home that appeared to be a normal shotgun camelback. It was a two story shotgun home like so many others in the city. The difference was, it sat on the edge of the Bayou Saint John, and the two lots to either side had been cleared and fenced, giving it an air of privacy.

  Jackson paid the driver, then slid out and was already opening my door before I’d even released my seatbelt. His cool hand wrapped around mine, helping me from the car. And much to my surprise, as we moved toward the front door of Lights Out, he didn’t let go.

  I glanced down at our entwined fingers, and although I barely knew him, his touch felt right. Comfortable. As if I’d known him forever and not a few short hours.

  “Ready?” he asked with a glint
in his eye.

  “No,” I said with a laugh. “But I can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.”

  He chuckled to himself as he knocked.

  A few moments passed, then a tall, dark-skinned man in a white linen suit appeared and waved us in. “Good evening, Mr. Barré. Chloe will show you to your table.”

  A woman with bronze-toned skin flashed us a brilliant smile. “Right this way.”

  We followed her through the foyer and into the former living room. The previously split home had been converted into one large, open space, with wood beam ceilings and gleaming pinewood floors. Tables with velvet seating lined the walls, while smaller round tables took up most of the interior. At the back of the house was a small stage with a pianist and a smoky-voiced woman singing about love under the harvest moon.

  “This is gorgeous,” I said. “And a little surprising.”

  Jackson stared down at me with curiosity. “How so?”

  I shrugged. “I always imagined this place to be flashier, more opulent. It’s more… comfortable than I thought it would be.”

  He chuckled again. “Nothing is ever as good as the buildup I guess.”

  Something about his tone made me look at him, really look at him. His tall, broad frame, those piercing blue eyes, his handsome face that was somehow more appealing because of the jagged scar, as if he’d known his share of hardships despite a blessed life… or death as a vampire. And in that moment, I had the insane thought that Jackson Barré might just be better than anything I could imagine.

  Our eyes met and held in an intense exchange. My body started to tingle with the desire to step into him, to feel what it would be like to be pressed against him. But then my brain kicked in. What the hell was I thinking?

  I’d literally just met the man. And he was a rich vampire in business with my boss. Blinking, I took a step away from him just for my own self-preservation.

  “Come on,” he said with a tilt of his head. “Let’s get you a drink.”

  I didn’t want a drink. Not really. And even though I’d been excited to learn all the secrets of the exclusive club, suddenly all I wanted was to spend some quiet time getting to know the charming man beside me. Only the idea of suggesting we leave for someplace more private seemed highly inappropriate considering the circumstances.

  We followed Chloe to a quiet table in the back. Once we were seated, she flagged down a server for us, and we ordered more wine. “Now,” he said, turning to me. “Tell me more about Blake Douvant.”

  “Me? I’m just a small town girl from the panhandle, trying to build a life for myself here.” I glanced away, feeling shy as I said, “I think your history is likely to be far more interesting.”

  His cool hand slipped over mine. “You’re a lot more than just a small town girl.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “You just met me. How do you know what I am?”

  “Jackson!” A round man blustered as he stumbled forward, reeking of whiskey and cigar smoke. An overhead light shone down, bouncing off his bald head. “What brings you to our fine city?”

  Jackson stood and gripped the man’s arm, steadying him. “Hello, Nathanial. When did you get back in town? Last I heard you were working with the Arcane on an international witch’s coalition.”

  My eyes widened. Nathanial Jorges was the head of the Arcane’s International Security division. He worked with the most talented witches in the world to keep ours and other nations safe from rogue supernaturals.

  “I got back last night.” The man sat in the chair next to me, his gaze sweeping over my body in a slow perusal. “Human?”

  My skin started to crawl. The look in his eyes was full of lust, but his tone held an undeniable note of judgement.

  “Ms. Douvant is an employee of Cryrique and my date for the evening,” Jackson said, draping his arm over the back of my chair.

  “Cryrique.” Jorges nodded, his attention focused over Jackson’s shoulder. He swept his gaze through the club as if searching for something. After a moment, he pursed his lips together and said, “Yes, I understand you’re partnering with them on your new project.”

  “We’re considering it. I’m in town for negotiations.” Jackson took a sip of his wine and averted his gaze as if the conversation was boring him.

  “You know nothing would make me happier. It would be nice to have someone on the inside who could pass us inform—” Jorges stopped mid-sentence and glanced at me, his face turning red. “I mean, someone to help smooth negotiations. It’s no secret their work with vampire science is most interesting to the Arcane.”

  “I find it incredible you don’t already have a spy or two,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone, then stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ll use the ladies’ room.”

  Jackson started to rise, but I waved him back down and took off toward the back of the house. Jorges was nothing more than a politicking blowhard. And a sleaze to boot. That much was obvious just in the way he’d looked at me like I was a prize to be unwrapped. If he was representative of the kind of people who spent time at Lights Out, I hadn’t been missing anything other than a cool building.

  The ladies’ room was something out of a nineteen fifties movie, with a plush lounge area followed by the usual facilities. Once I’d finished my business, I walked back into the lounge and stopped when I spotted a disheveled petite woman sitting on one of the couches. Her stockings had a hole in her right knee, and there were scratches on her bare arm. She had her head down and was frantically tapping out a message on her phone.

  I walked up to her. “Are you all right?”

  Her head snapped up, defiance in her determined gaze. “Do I look all right?”

  I shook my head. “No. Not really. What can I do to help?”

  “Sorry,” she said, softening her tone. “Nothing. I’ll be fine just as soon as I get ahold of my ride.”

  I sucked in a breath. “If you need a ride, I can—”

  “What I need is for that asshole out there to go fuck himself.”

  “Uh, okay. I’ve been there a time or two. Are you sure I can’t help you get out of here? Or maybe distract the asshole so you don’t have to deal with him?”

  She let out a huff of laughter. “That would be awesome, but I can’t ask you to do that. Listen, thanks. I know I snapped at you, but it’s only because everything hurts like a bitch.” The pixie-like woman stood, grimacing as she put weight on her left leg. “All I need is a healing bar and maybe an energy drink. Then once my magic comes back, I’ll be fine.”

  Witch. Whoever had done this to her had not only beat her up, but had neutralized her magic, too. It was just about the worst thing someone could do to a witch. I dug around in my purse and produced a chocolate bar with numbing abilities that had yet to hit the market. Handing it to her, I said, “This should do until you can find a real healer. Do they offer Mocha in Motion here? I could go get you one.”

  “No, they don’t.” She stared at the bar for a moment, then she glanced up at me with renewed interest. “Where did you get this?”

  “I just happen to work at a place that deals with supernatural holistic products. They’re everywhere in the office.”

  She turned the bar over, scanned the fine print, and looked up at me. “It doesn’t say who made this.”

  I shrugged. “It’s still being market tested.”

  “Cryrique, right?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. “What do you do there?”

  Her statement had me taking a step back. There was nothing on the package to indicate who the manufacturer might be. And since it hadn’t launched, the product was still proprietary. If she spread the news, I could possibly lose my job. Dammit. What had I been thinking offering it to her? Of course, the answer was obvious. I’d wanted to help someone in need. “How did you know that?”

  She gave me a tired smile. “I’ve worked for Allcot before. This has his signature all over it. Don’t worry. I’m not going to sell you out or anything. I was just curious.”
>
  She’d worked for Allcot? He only had one witch on the payroll as far as I knew. “What’s your name?” I asked, suspicion working its way into my tone.

  Her lips twitched as if she were trying to hide a smile. “Phoebe. We sort of have a love-hate relationship. Mostly hate, but we’ve settled into a workable situation… for now.”

  Phoebe Kilsen. Of course. Now that she said her name, I recognized her. She worked for the Arcane and was a well-known vampire hunter, going after the ones who attacked humans. She was one of the good guys. I held out my hand. “I’m Blake, and if there’s anything I can do to help, just say the word.”

  Her small hand wrapped around mine. “It’s good to meet you. Right now all I want is this healing bar, assuming it’s not going to poison me.”

  “Not likely. I’ve tested a few of them, and so far they’ve been great at erasing headaches and soothing lower back pain.”

  “Well, that’s something.” She unwrapped the bar and eyed it suspiciously. Then with a shrug that clearly said ‘what the hell,’ she bit off a chunk. Her eyes rolled and she let out a relieved sigh. “Damn, that’s good.”

  “Right? They’re so good there’s a worry they’ll become addictive.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I clamped my hand over my lips. Dammit! What was wrong with me tonight?

  She let out a laugh and shook her head. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I’d be willing to bet Allcot is pushing it precisely because of its addictive qualities. But don’t worry. I won’t go sharing what you told me. For your sake, if not Allcot’s.”

  “Thanks.” I frowned. Was that true? Probably. No one ever said my boss was especially altruistic. He was the head of the Cryrique, the most powerful vampire corporation in the south, if not the entire country. Not that it mattered. I couldn’t afford to have a crisis of conscience. Not if I wanted to continue my search for Cameron.

  “You’re welcome.” She finished the last of the chocolate and handed me back the wrapper. “Just so you know I won’t pass on the evidence.”

  I took it and stuffed it back in my bag. Her phone dinged and she cursed. “No rest for the wicked! Time’s up. Gotta run.” But instead of heading toward the door, she took off toward a small window, moving as if she’d never been hurt.