Both Ways

by Ileandra Young

  Stakes. Chains. Tranq darts. Lead bar. Communion wafers. Silver throwing stars. More knives…

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Seb. Sorry…I mean Mr. Mayor.”

  Silence. Then. “Agent Karson? To what do I owe the pleasure? I’ve a rally to attend in forty-five minutes with a speech to rehearse, names to learn, and a long car ride ahead of me, all without my PA who picked today of all days not to show up for duty. She’ll never work in this city again by the time I’m done.”

  I wait long enough for the tirade to ebb, then fill him in on the unregistered vampires and the people missing from The Bowl.

  Throughout, Mikkleson is silent but for the occasional grunt or muttered affirmation. At the end of my tale, more silence, and a slow exhalation. The man must be made of cigars.

  “And what does that have to do with my son?”

  “I think it’s far more likely he was unlucky. He lives in The Bowl, right? Exactly where all these other people have gone missing.”

  “So?”

  I roll my eyes. “So if he’s connected to these disappearances, I need to update the civvie bashers.”

  “The police? Absolutely not.”

  “Of course I do. I need to tell them—”

  “You’re not to breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  “But—”

  “Do you have any idea what’s at stake? What this could do to my career?”

  “You—”

  “Tell no one. Not the police, not SPEAR, no one.”

  “I have to get backup.”

  “The hell you do.” His voice drops to a furious hiss, loud and deep in my ear. “For what I’m paying you, you’ll handle this exactly as I say.”

  “Now you wait a second—”

  “No, Agent, you wait. I’ve worked hard to get where I am. I’ve given everything. Now this city is finally in a stable position, and you want me to throw it away? I’ve held up my end of the bargain. Twenty per cent wired to your bank last night. Fifteen each to your mother and sister. Now you do your part and find my son.”

  “But—”

  “I’ll have your SPEAR license revoked.”

  My fingers tighten on the phone. A loud rushing sound fills my ears. “You can’t do that.”

  “Try me.”

  “But—”

  “But nothing. If I discover that anybody else knows about this, you’ll never work in this city again. SPEAR will drop you faster than a live grenade, and that’s the end of you and any chance at that house in Cipla. I’ll personally see to it.”

  My hand is shaking. I can’t make it stop. “Please—”

  “Do your job, Agent. That’s all you need do to make this go away. Get out on those streets, find my son, and keep your mouth shut.”

  The line goes dead.

  Chapter Nine

  Rayne stands beside me with Norma riding her shoulder. She waits several seconds, then whispers, “Are you okay?”

  “Fine, I…we need to go.”

  “I heard the call.” She frowns at my frustrated eye roll. “I have exceptionally good hearing.”

  Shit. How do I keep forgetting she’s not human? “It’s irrelevant. I still have a job to do.”

  “And your job is important to you?”

  “What the hell do you think?” I unfurl my hands. My nails have left deep red indents on my palms.

  Rayne nudges Norma off her shoulder. The chittarik loiters for long moments before flying over to give my face a comforting nuzzle.

  “I think I’d be questioning why Mayor Mikkleson is so keen to keep this under wraps. And why he picked you.”

  “I already know why, he—”

  “Do you?” She speaks quietly, but the words hit hard. “I won’t tell you your job, Agent, but it’s worth considering there may be something more happening here.” Rayne holds my gaze for several tense seconds, then walks towards the door. “I’ll wait in the car.”

  I chew the edge of my lip, snagging Norma from the air to deposit her on the sofa. “I’ll see you later.”

  “Ka? Karson, Da?”

  “Not a chance. You’ll only be all over Rayne, anyway. You like her?”

  “Daaaaanika.”

  “Oh, don’t guilt trip me, you scaly slut.” I leave the flat, still shaking my head.

  * * *

  In the car, strapped in tight, Rayne runs her fingers over the dashboard. “My dad had a banged up seven-seater saloon. We’d go on field trips all over the country for his Ranching duties, but when it was holiday season, we’d hire something bigger and go camping.”

  I imagine the huge family, fourteen kids and two adults, riding into the sunset in a giant minibus.

  “What was your favourite spot?”

  She grins. “There’s a beautiful lake on the north edge of Anglesey. Gwragedd Annwn breed there and Dad used to take us to study them. Such pretty things.”

  “Yeah, and dangerous. You sure none of them ever…”

  “With Dad?” She laughs. “No, he was too good for that. But they did try. They seemed to really like him. I think it was the beard.”

  I grin and pull the car away from the curb, into the flow of traffic. “My dad was nowhere near as cool. We’d go camping, but Mum hated it, so we usually only went to caravan parks. All the amenities, cafés, and Wi-Fi.”

  “That’s hardly camping.”

  “You’ve not met my mother.”

  She fiddles with the broken radio. “What happened to your dad?”

  My fingers tighten on the wheel. The car lists as I take a right turn sharper than I should. “He died.”

  Rayne shrinks back against her seat belt. She clears her throat, then points out the window. “What’s that?”

  I sneak a glance. Bite back a snort as the building slides through my view. Bright red and purple signage proclaims Delights of the Night while the wide windows up front are draped in heavy red curtains.

  “Edane massage parlour.”

  Her eyes widen. “Really?”

  “Traditional too. All the happy endings you could want.”

  “Just for supernaturals?”

  I shake my head. “Humans, mostly. They use places like that to get up close and personal with edane men and women in a reasonably safe environment. Vampires too. Though recreational blood loss is something I’ll never understand.”

  Rayne gapes. “But what about the Foundation? I thought we got our blood there.”

  “Fang junkies donate in person.”

  She falls quiet.

  I keep driving, cursing myself over and over. It’s been years now. Surely I shouldn’t be so sensitive over Dad. Surely I—no. There’s no surely where family is concerned.

  “There’s so many supernatural stores and entertainments here. It’s nothing like where I’m from.”

  I chance another glance at her. “Angbec is pretty forward thinking. We were the first city to recognize edanes as citizens, well before the Supernatural Creatures Act forced us to. And we were the ones to spearhead the Interspecies Relations Act.”

  “I had no idea. Is that why the supernatural population is so big?”

  “We’re a haven compared to the rest of the country, and with SPEAR based here, generally everyone behaves themselves.”

  She lowers her head. “I’m sorry. My nest and I have caused a huge mess.”

  “It’s not your fault—” I cough, alarmed at how easily the words of comfort roll off my tongue.

  “Maybe not wholly my fault, but I’ve…done my part. I want to make it right.”

  “You’re making a good start.”

  Inner Angbec gives way to the weary drudgery of Misona. Lights dim, crowds thin, and Rayne sinks deeper and deeper into her seat.

  “Why have you brought me here?”

  “I need to see a friend.”

  * * *

  Though she seems unsure, Rayne exits the car and stands beside me. Her clothes brush against mine, the soft whisper of her breath cool against my arm through layer
s of fabric.

  “Rayne, are you shaking?”

  She steps back.

  “You’re a vampire.”

  “But I—”

  Soft growls float through the air, coming from the far side of the street. In the shadows, two dark shapes slink close to the ground. Another smudge of darkness, taller and broader than the other two, steps out from an abandoned storefront.

  “Agent?” Her voice quivers.

  Wendy’s familiar shape materializes from the dim beyond the car. He strides towards us with the two smaller figures, now visible as wolves the size of ponies. He takes one look at Rayne, then snarls, his eyes flickering from brown to yellow. “What’s this?”

  “You told me to come back—”

  “No, this.” He waves a hand at Rayne. “What’s this blood sucker doing on pack land?”

  The two wolves raise their hackles, baring teeth.

  “Calm down, she’s with me.”

  “No, it is a vampire and it is trespassing.”

  Rayne wrings her hands. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

  “Lies,” roars Wendy. “You’ve two seconds to get off our land, before I—”

  “Enough.” I shove myself between Rayne and Wendy, arms outstretched. “You, grow a spine, and you, put your cock away.”

  “But I—” Rayne lifts a hand.

  “It—” Wendy points.

  “I said, enough. I don’t have time to play referee. Wendy, do you have the information or not?”

  Rayne puts a hand to her mouth. Her eye corners crinkle with mirth. “His name is Wendy?”

  Uh-oh.

  I throw myself backward and out of the way.

  Wendy hurls himself at Rayne with a bellow, fur sprouting fast from his hands and face. She blocks the frantic charge but goes down, shrieking in terror.

  I draw my gun and level it at the two wolves preparing to spring. “Don’t.”

  Snarls. Growls.

  “Test me, dog breath. I dare you. No? Then back off.”

  They share a glance. Step aside.

  Wendy and Rayne are still grappling on the pavement. Wendy is part way towards his hybrid form, most of his exposed skin covered in shaggy dark fur. Beneath him, wrestling to keep his jaws from her face, Rayne kicks and screams and growls like an animal. But it’s not enough. His teeth close on her forearm with a sick, wet crunch.

  “No! Rayne—Wendy, don’t—”

  Silver sparks in Rayne’s eyes. Subtle at first, then a dazzling gleam. She roars, a bestial sound, terrifying from such a dainty mouth. With her right arm still trapped in Wendy’s jaws, she curves her free fist round and punches him in the top of the head. Again. Again. Again.

  He releases. She rolls free.

  The pair face each other, crouched low, fingers flexing.

  Blood floods from a cut on Wendy’s face. A darker, richer shade streams down Rayne’s arm.

  “Guys, stop. We can’t—”

  They collide again, this time with Rayne on the offensive. She grabs Wendy’s head with both hands and squeezes, dancing to and fro to steer clear of his swiping claws.

  Wendy howls a deep, agonized note.

  Again the two wolves creep forward.

  “Don’t move!”

  They pause, but I know they won’t stay afraid of me for long. Not while their alpha is in danger.

  Rayne’s hands are visibly closer together, compressing Wendy’s features like putty. I’ve no idea how much more he can stand before his skull caves.

  I aim the gun at Rayne. It shakes.

  “Let him go.”

  She squeezes harder.

  Wendy whimpers.

  “Rayne, let go.”

  Her eyes narrow and she looks back at me. The death grip falters.

  Wendy shoves off the ground, a powerful leap that carries him free and twelve feet into the air. His slams into Rayne, forcing her back to the ground. Powerful fingers close around her throat. Claws dig into flesh.

  I fire.

  The shot echoes through the empty street.

  A startled flock of pigeons take to the skies.

  Rayne stares at me, her eyes round and wide. The silver is gone now, fury chased away by shock. “Agent…” Her voice rasps through damaged vocal cords.

  Moaning, Wendy tumbles off Rayne’s body. He has one hand pressed to his shoulder, gripping tight against the flow of blood oozing through his fur.

  What the hell did I just do?

  The two wolves dart past me, fawning over Wendy. They nuzzle him, lick him, paw him, all the while whimpering and whining. Several seconds of this, then they turn to me with low, rippling growls.

  Again I level the gun.

  “Wait—I—”

  Rayne darts off the ground and slides to a stop in front of me, arms outspread.

  I freeze.

  More growls. Wet teeth gleaming. Muscles tensed to spring.

  Rayne tilts her chin. “D-don’t. I mean it. Leave her alone.”

  “Back off, boys.” Wendy trudges forward, free hand raised, a soothing, calming gesture. The wolves glare at him. “I said, back off.”

  They retreat, though continue to watch me, anger and hatred burning in their eyes.

  Rayne heaves a huge sigh and drops to her knees.

  I stare at the top of her head.

  What just happened here? What’s going on?

  “I—Wendy—”

  “It’s okay, Agent. After all this time I know where I stand.” He refuses to look at me, staring instead at the floor near my feet.

  Something in my chest is tight and stiff. Again I try to speak, but the words won’t come. “Wendy…”

  “That’s not my name. And you…” He looks pointedly away from me to the figure on the ground. “You are not welcome here. I see you again, I end you. Understand?”

  “I’m sorry.” Rayne’s voice is tiny. “I’m trying to help. Please. I know I did wrong, but I want to make it right.”

  He gives a rough bark of laughter. “A vampire with a conscience? Oh, holy day, that fixes everything, doesn’t it?” Blood continues to drip from his shoulder. “Look, I got what I promised. Do you want the intel or not?”

  I lift my hand, then let it drop. “Yes. Please.”

  Wendy shakes himself, a full body ripple from toes to the top of his head. By the time he’s done, most of the fur is gone and his claws have been reduced to mere fingernails. He strains, then my bullet flops out of his shoulder and hits the pavement. “The leader of the vampires is some dame called Vixen.”

  Still on the floor, Rayne stiffens and clutches her hands to her chest.

  “Means something to you, does it?” He snorts. “We hear she’s powerful, old, and traditional. Likes to think that we supes should have stayed hidden and secret. But if we can’t be that, then we should be in charge.” Another snort. “Or the fangers should, to hell with the likes of us.”

  “But what about the humans going missing?”

  “Give an old man a chance, you impatient bitch.”

  “You wish.” The response is automatic, and though there’s a flicker of recognition, Wendy refuses to smile. My shoulders slump. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

  “Word is the humans are a food source to travel with the nest. They’re new to Angbec, so they haven’t signed with Clear Blood. Don’t mean to, neither. They’re happy being under the radar because they can plan without bother.”

  “But what are they planning?” I can’t help myself. This information is old—I have it already from Rayne. If I’m going to do something about all this, I need something fresh.

  Wendy spits at the pavement. “I don’t know, all right? Something big. And political. We heard she has links with Clear Blood and the mayor’s office. Don’t know what, but I’d guess someone down at City Hall has a bit of a fetish.”

  “A junkie?”

  He shrugs. “Mayhap. Maybe not. Time for some detective work, rather than leaning on us, right, Agent?”

  “Wendy—”r />
  “That’s all I got. Take it or leave it.” He rubs his shoulder again, then backs away, still eyeing Rayne. “And remember what I said. This is your one free pass, Vampire. After that, you’re ooze.”

  Rayne takes her feet and stands close at my side again. No longer shaking, she just stares at her fingers with small, timid jerks of her head. “I understand.”

  “Good. Show yourselves out of pack territory. You get three minutes.”

  Chapter Ten

  Never before have I felt unsafe in The Bowl. Wary, sure, but unsafe? Afraid?

  I look at Rayne, watching her face work through dozens of complex emotions.

  “Are you okay?”

  She stares up at me, gnawing her bottom lip. “I didn’t mean to cause you trouble. He attacked and I just…It’s an instinct.”

  “I know. I should have warned you about his name.”

  “Did they hurt you?”

  I take the chance to assess myself. “Not a scratch on me. What about your arm?”

  She holds it up, inspecting pale skin through the gashes in her ruined sleeve. Her fingers flex. “Mostly healed. It hurts, but no permanent damage. You saved me. Thank you.”

  Yeah, still confused about that. The gun under my arm feels heavy and awkward, my trigger finger itchy.

  Did I really shoot Wendy? To save Rayne?

  She smiles, unaware of my thoughts. “Did you get what you needed?”

  “Yeah, but I wish there was more. Most of what he said you’d already told me.”

  “Even the rumour about the mayor’s office?”

  Shrug. “There’s always rumours about that place. Probably doesn’t help that Mikkleson is such an arrogant—” I break off, squeezing my eyes shut as my brain races to catch up with my mouth. “Mikkleson. Son of a bitch.”

  Rayne leans away from me. “What?”

  “His son. He’s not just a drug addict—he’s a fang junkie too. No wonder he didn’t want anyone to know.”

  “It’s illegal?”

  “Grey area.” I start pacing, thinking hard. “I’ve been trying to figure out why a fifteen-year-old boy would have a vampire in his house. No signs of a struggle, but a vampire clearly kicked it in there, judging from the ooze Mikkleson had in that evidence bag. So the boy was donating blood and…what? It got out of hand? Someone went too far? He changed his mind?”