Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 1

by Shayne Silvers

  I couldn’t hide my grin. “You sat here because you found nice chairs?”

  “What chairs?” Darling replied, smirking.

  The woman sighed unhappily, shifting on an antique wooden bench, the leather seats gone.

  My jaw almost dropped to the ground. I had sensed nothing. The chairs were just… different all of a sudden. I waited for an explanation, but it became clear that Darling was just trying to get a rise out of me. I let it go, even though I wanted nothing more than to demand answers. “Have you two murdered anyone recently?”

  Dear turned a questioning look at Darling, her pearl necklace clicking softly.

  Darling leaned forward, swirling his martini absently. “That’s rather relative. Define recently,” he said. He sounded genuinely unsure, not mocking me this time.

  “I don’t know, this week?” I replied, getting frustrated. They turned to each other in silence.

  Dear shook her head at him. “I don’t believe so, Darling. I’m confident that was at least two weeks ago…”

  He snapped his fingers in agreement. “I’m quite sure you’re right. That was two weeks ago. And it was in Italy, or some such place. Somewhere with statues, anyway.”

  “Wasn’t it Miami?” Dear asked, frowning as she tried to recall.

  “How would I know, my Dear? I don’t pay attention to every fly I swat or spider I crush.”

  She shrugged in agreement, turning back to me.

  “I’m not talking about spiders and flies…” I clarified in a low tone.

  Dear leaned forward suddenly, smiling as her eyes seemed to glow with intensity – swirling like different-colored paint mixing together. “Oh, but aren’t you? These questions of Heaven and Hell. Your colors. Your scents. Do you know what you should be asking, Wizard?”

  I studied her thoughtfully. “Please enlighten me.”

  She shook her head adamantly, leaning back as if I had said something distasteful. “Thank you, no. That is beneath me.”

  “Helping someone is beneath you?” I asked.

  “No, the enlightening thing.” She grimaced, taking another sip of her drink. “Or answering a question with a question.”

  I bit my tongue. “Well, if you haven’t murdered anyone… recently,” I added sarcastically, “can you point me to that new church around here?”

  “The bloody one?” Darling asked eagerly, leaning forward in his now leather chair again.

  “Ummm… maybe?” I answered, frowning at his description.

  Dear chimed back in. “An aromatic pool of blood just painted her steps. Sadly, we don’t have the time to enjoy it.” She jerked her chin in a specific direction, looking regretful.

  My skin pebbled. “What?” I practically shouted.

  The woman dropped her glass, clutching at her ears. Then she shot me a dark scowl. “Learn your manners, and mute the trumpets and choir, Miss Penrose,” she warned. Then, before I could ask what the hell she was talking about, she continued. “The new church on the block just recently received a shower of blood. A christening if you will,” she said, chuckling.

  “Baptism?” Darling offered as a polite correction.

  She shook her head. “I don’t believe they’re Baptists, Darling.”

  “Ah. I see.” He turned to me. “Regardless, while you have been quite entertaining, the blood is getting cold. It is only fresh for a few minutes, and it only happened fifty-seven seconds ago, by your bizarre measure of time.”

  “Oh, we must be off,” Dear said urgently. “This part of town has truly gone to the Plebes if we can’t even enjoy a drink in peace,” the woman said. “And we do have a calendar to keep up with. Work to do. Orders to fill.”

  Darling turned to her. “I’ll fill your orders,” he said playfully.

  She blushed. “Have at me, you rogue,” she challenged with a sultry smile.

  “That’s my cue,” Darling grinned at me. “Good afternoon, Miss Penrose. All that blood has reminded me of my appetite,” he admitted, waving a hand towards the church.

  “Are you two vampires?” I asked, suddenly nervous. It was dark in the alley. No sunlight.

  They glared at me in unison, no longer playful. Then they let out a disdainful sniff, and shifted into smoky apparitions that abruptly dispersed on their own. As did the chairs.

  Chapter 16

  With nothing else to do in the dead-end alley, I turned and jogged back past the intersection where I had last seen the man. I soon found myself on the main road. A lamppost was littered with flyers, but the one on top was for the new church and pointed down the street to my right. I jogged that way, rounded the corner and saw the church less than a block away.

  It was nothing special, just a modern building they had repurposed to their needs.

  But a noticeable number of people were running away from the church entrance, and others were using their phones to take pictures of something.

  Shit.

  I pushed through the gathering crowd to find blood pouring down the steps in thick rivulets. A body lay in a contorted position, the stomach entirely missing, resembling a carcass in the wild. God is dead was written on the steps in fresh blood. I felt as if someone was suddenly watching me and spun reflexively, scanning the faces around me. After a second, I spotted the same black man fade into a crowd across the street. I took a step to pursue my stalker, but a cop car suddenly skidded to a halt on the street between us.

  A young man jumped out of the car staring over my shoulder at the dead body. He was tall, dark, and handsome, as my mother would have said. Strong build, but nothing obscene, and his longish hair brushed his cold blue eyes. He brushed his hair back with one hand, his face hardening – not with fear, but with fiery outrage and determination. Then he met my eyes, and I almost took a step back. His partner was already putting up crime scene tape around the perimeter, and I was within that perimeter.

  The man nodded at me, motioning me closer. I let out a breath and retied my ponytail before approaching him.

  I leaned against the back of the police car, eager to leave. Detective Beckett Killian was competent and thorough, but had only made me tell my account twice, where most cops liked to force out half a dozen repetitions – hoping to annoy you to the point that you might contradict your story, or remember an unrealized detail as you grew frustrated. It was a good tactic, but he didn’t seem to ascribe to it.

  “Could you help us with a sketch of this man from the alley?” His voice was like a low hum.

  I shook my head. “Not enough to be helpful. He was African American, had dreadlocks, and was dressed in a casual suit with loafers. That’s all I can confidently tell you.”

  He nodded absently, glancing back over my shoulder at the scene, eyes calculating. He had spent a considerable amount of time staring at the words painted on the steps.

  God is dead.

  “Alright. You’re free to go. Keep your phone on in case I have more questions.” He grew quiet, as if debating his next words. Then he leveled his blue eyes on me, face very serious. “Some sick bastard has a real hatred for the church, and with you working at Abundant Angel… Just be careful. Running through alleys might not be wise until we wrap this up.”

  I smiled, nodding obediently. “Good idea.” I could see the frustration in his eyes, and it didn’t look like it was just from this murder. “Shitty day?” I asked.

  He turned, blinking at me, as if forgetting I was still standing here. Then he sighed. “You have no idea. Spent all morning at a bakery in Westport. And although it’s obvious a big fight went down, we didn’t find any bodies. Just a few wallets in the back room.” He met my eyes. “Neither belonged to the missing owner.”

  I frowned, doing my best to look vaguely curious. “Weird…”

  “But we posted their pictures on the news, and a few bar owners called in to say those two men had been there recently, causing trouble. Guess which bars?” he asked me. I shrugged back, my face a mask. “The same ones that last saw some of those missing girls�
��”

  I shivered, not having to pretend. “Are you saying the bar owners are behind it?” I asked.

  He grunted, shaking his head. “No. Just a strange connection. Then this shit,” he said, eyes roving back to the body, which would soon be carted away by the coroner. “The bites are authentic. An animal did this. Last I checked, we didn’t have anti-church bears wandering the streets. And it was done right here, not dumped after the fact,” he spoke as if reciting the facts to himself, putting a puzzle together on a rainy day.

  “Bears?” I asked, trying to look nervous.

  He shrugged. “A big carnivorous animal. We don’t know what kind yet,” he admitted.

  I nodded. “An animal eviscerates a woman on the steps of a church in broad daylight and no one sees anything?” I repeated, mind racing with implications. Was it Yuri and the wolf?

  He grew silent, and I realized he was studying me curiously. “You don’t sound scared.”

  I snapped out of it, grimacing. “Are you kidding me? Of course I’m concerned. But how would no one notice that?”

  “That’s the question,” he replied, still watching me.

  “Well, I’m at your disposal.”

  “Disposal…” he repeated, eyes flicking back over my shoulder. “I never liked that term.”

  I smiled warmly. “Just a phrase,” I said.

  “I don’t like that answer either.” A faint grin was tugging at the corner of his mouth.

  “Well, hopefully I can be both helpful and useful, then,” I laughed.

  “One can hope,” he chuckled. “Go finish your jog. But no more alleys,” he warned. I nodded, saluted him, and began to turn away. “Callie?”

  I slowed, glancing over my shoulder. “Yes?”

  “You don’t seem like a church girl.”

  I laughed, nodding. “You’re a pretty good judge of character,” I winked, and then began to jog, calling over my shoulder. “Just the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I wouldn’t say that,” he said loudly.

  I grinned as I jogged across the street, hoping to catch evidence of the man I had seen, because I still felt his eyes watching me from somewhere nearby. I waited until Detective Killian wasn’t looking to slip into the alleys. After ten minutes of fruitless search, I decided to head home. With cops crawling all over the place, I wasn’t going to be able to get anything useful out of the scene. Maybe I would return after nightfall.

  One thing was obvious. A Freak had murdered someone on the steps of the new church that was loudly standing up against monsters, and they had left behind a slogan that made my blood run cold. God is dead. Were Yuri and the third wolf behind this, or maybe their new friends? Was the black man one of them? Were Dear and Darling involved?

  I needed to get cleaned up for the fundraiser. I could return to the scene later.

  I did call Roland to give him a heads up, since I knew his plane would be taking off soon and that I wouldn’t be able to reach him until tomorrow. I kept the conversation short, not opening it up for small talk, just letting him know I could handle it. He didn’t sound excited about that, but he also didn’t sound doubtful. Which, in an odd way, was comforting. But I still wasn’t happy with what he had done.

  He had dropped off Claire, and the bears had been as opening and inviting as Roland had ever seen. He casually mentioned that maybe I needed to work on my social skills, because he found them quite pleasant, as did Claire.

  He surprised the hell out of me to tell me that the two rape victims were joining him on his trip to Italy. When he told them of his travel plans, they had suddenly remembered how to talk, screaming as they begged to stay with him. Apparently, the rapists hadn’t been shy about showing them their wolf forms, and the girls were terrified to be away from the one man who had saved them from their captivity. Since he was taking the Vatican’s jet, he had agreed to drug them, restrain them, and take them with him.

  The son of a bitch did tell me that he hoped my talk with Nate had been enlightening. I hung up on him, cursing angrily.

  Bastard men. Now I owed the billionaire from St. Louis ten dollars. That fueled my run home.

  Chapter 17

  I stood in the center of the room, my dark blue gown just brushing the marble floor behind me. My hair was pulled into an up do – held in place with silver chopsticks that sported a dozen tiny diamonds on the ends, a carat in total for each chopstick. Roland had given them to me – on behalf of the Vatican – after the demon ordeal a few weeks ago.

  Some would call them a gift.

  I saw them as a bribe. A flashy piece of bling to trick me into toeing the line for the Vatican and its interests here in Kansas City. It was also an employee uniform, since they had basically assigned me to every high society social event in town for the indeterminable future.

  I did like pretty things, but I didn’t like chains.

  But… they were silver, and since I had reason to believe I might encounter some shifters here, practicality won out over my emotions. They were weapons on loan from the church. That soothed my disgust a little.

  I held a flute of champagne in my hand, idly sipping as I kept the fake smile plastered on my face, scanning the crowd of tuxedos, old money and new money. This was basically recess for the elites, time to step out of the classroom and pretend to play nicely with each other – when in actuality they were mostly ruthless bullies, at least to each other. Some things never changed. The only way to beat the system was to change the rules.

  I had received several pointed sniffs and numerous condescending looks over the course of the evening while listening to the mayor speak about the benefits of being charitable. Since I was on a job, I made the cross with my empty hand, and smiled sadly at each one.

  This both offended them and forced them to not act offended. It was actually quite fun.

  The men, on the other hand, glanced at me like they wanted to confess some sins in private – both past, present, and future. These were somewhat harder to deflect, but I did my best. The most fun way was to walk up to his spouse, compliment her outrageously, and subtly mention salvation or something else churchy and pious. Or about my wholehearted devotion to missions and God, basically a Sister in training.

  Most left me alone after that. And the women seemed particularly grateful to see I wasn’t on a serving tray for their husbands to nibble.

  Still, it wasn’t why I was here. Sure, it was why the Vatican wanted me here – to make a good impression, and to ease concerns over the auction that had turned into a warzone a few weeks back. My job was to be seen, look pretty, be nice, be sweet, mention the church, the Vatican, and then move on without ruffling any feathers.

  But my personal reason was to sniff out Yuri and his pals. And as I assumed, I didn’t see any other bears present. After telling me that I might find Yuri here, it wouldn’t have made sense for one of their group to show up and possibly scare Yuri back into hiding.

  I watched the crowd, but saw no familiar faces. No recognizable monsters.

  The vampires hadn’t received a warm welcome in my city over recent months. Apparently, Nate Temple had come to town and killed the entire coven, or Kiss, as they sometimes called themselves. Then, Master Simon had stepped in to take over, but he’d gotten involved with the Spear debacle, and Nate and I had killed him and a pile of his followers in self-defense.

  I wasn’t sure if any of his vampires had survived, but if they had, I wasn’t expecting a Christmas card any time soon. The wolves were still out of town, too, which made me slightly nervous. They had fled because of Johnathan, so maybe they hadn’t returned because they knew Amira was still here. A demon was keeping them out.

  And in that vacuum, the bears believed new neighbors were moving in. Like Yuri’s pals.

  I was beginning to realize that it may be beneficial to become acquainted with the various factions in town, because it was hard to get a pulse on the city without knowing the players. For example, Darling and Dear. They were obviously Freak
s of some flavor, but I had no idea what kind. Then, a predator had eaten that woman at the church. Wolf or Bear? Or something else? The stalker from the alley, too. He’d been too fast to be human. I needed to learn more about my city.

  I spotted a tall, pale man slipping through the crowd, surrounded by beefy bodyguards in suits. I made my way closer, hoping to intercept him. To be fair, I was profiling him as a vampire, when he could have just been a rich, computer nerd, allergic to sunlight. But my magic told me that Freaks were present. I just needed to put names to faces. Or simply get a face. Or a name. Or at least get a grasp on what kinds of Freaks mingled with high society.

  Before I could intercept him, two of the beefy guards stepped directly in front of me, barring my way. They didn’t smile, and didn’t apologize. I tried to sidestep around them as the pale man walked past, but they stepped with me, blocking my advance. I scowled up at them. “Is there a problem?” I asked icily.

  “Not yet, Miss Penrose.”

  I frowned up at him. He was at least two-hundred-fifty pounds of solid muscle. His partner looked softer, less sculpted, but larger. They both had meticulous crew cuts and ear pieces. “Then let me pass,” I said in a low, warning tone, since they obviously knew who I was.

  “That isn’t an option. Especially after today,” the same guard said, staring down at me. Not kindly, but not unkindly either.

  “Don’t tell me he’s scared of me,” I said, holding up my arms with a disarming grin.

  “Listen, you’re beautiful, doll. And dangerous. You aren’t meeting Haven. He’s very well versed on Simon’s brief tenure in Kansas City. It seems like you Missouri Wizards like to get directly involved. I’m sure he’ll request an audience with you in the future. At a time and place of his choosing.” He leaned closer, as if to tell me a secret. “But that is not tonight.”

  The new Master Vampire was named Haven. At least that was something.

  The guard turned to leave, but I placed a hand on his shoulder.

  His friend’s hand darted out to smack mine away, but I dropped it just in time. Everything happened so fast that no one around us noticed. The three of us stared at each other in silence.