Feathers and Fire Series Box Set 2

by Shayne Silvers

  Henri also knew he was handsome. He had that French accent that drove so many women wild. It did nothing for me—but maybe that was influenced by the…shameful whimpering accent in the background. He looked younger than I had anticipated, but that was often par for the course when it came to vampires. He was probably a few hundred years old, despite his roguish mid-thirties look. From the tightness to Roland’s eyes, I also assumed he was quite powerful.

  “Shouldn’t you be meeting with Haven?” I asked, remembering that Le Bone’s primary fault had been not meeting with the Master of Kansas City.

  Henri smiled in amusement, picking up on my not-so-subtle hint. “I received permission to enter his city, yes. Haven encouraged me to visit Roland’s…church to see Le Bone for myself.”

  “He was just leaving,” Roland said politely, turning to Henri. “Unless there was anything else you wished to discuss?”

  Henri chuckled. “Swiftly done, Roland. We shall meet again to discuss Le Bone’s very brief, anguished existence. I implore you to play with him a bit, perhaps see what other activities he had his hands in while here. You will find no repercussions from me. Do your worst.”

  Roland dipped his head.

  Henri smiled wider. “Think on what else we discussed, Roland. We have great plans for you.”

  Roland’s posture grew harder, but I doubted anyone—even Cain and Henri—noticed the subtle shift. “I have no desire for greatness, but I will consider it. I can deliver you to Haven’s compound immediately.”

  Henri held up a finger. “I would like a private word with the infamous White Rose, first, but I will accept your offer, after.” I was surprised to hear him use my nickname, but I didn’t let it show on my face.

  “Callie does as she chooses,” Roland replied. “It’s safer for everyone.” He shot me a questioning look to let me answer for myself.

  “I have urgent business with Roland, but I have a few minutes to spare,” I lied.

  Henri nodded his understanding. “Then let us be brief,” he said, indicating for me to join him as we walked down the nave. I felt Roland watching us like a hawk as he spoke in low tones to Cain. I watched Henri from the corner of my sight, wondering why we needed a private conversation. Then again, I figured I had likely brought this on personally by inserting myself into vampire politics with Le Bone, so it would be unwise for me to dismiss Henri’s request.

  Once again, I was reminded that I really needed to find my purpose in life. Not to continue sticking my nose into business that I didn’t really care about long-term. By poking so many hornets’ nests, I was drawing unwanted attention—all because the thrill of the initial chase with Le Bone had sounded entertaining and worthwhile. Now, I had to suffer through his boss thanking me. Or threatening me. Only time would tell.

  “When I learned of Le Bone’s betrayal, I hastened my visit,” Henri explained.

  I found myself wondering exactly how he had arrived so quickly. Perhaps he employed a wizard to make him Gateways. As the Master of such a major city as Paris, he likely had all sorts of pull and power.

  It wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility for him to secretly have a few wizards as pets in his basement. I was speaking with one of the big boys.

  And big boys liked big toys.

  And they played for keeps.

  Chapter 19

  He guided me over to the statue of Nameless, on prominent display near the wall. The Master of Paris dipped his chin ever so slightly, indicating it. “Why do I sense so much anger from this stunning artifact? Perhaps it does not like my presence?” he asked thoughtfully.

  He was pointing at the statue. I frowned, not sensing anything of the sort. “Um…”

  Henri turned to face me, looking slightly surprised. “You do not sense it?”

  I shook my head. “But he was kind of an asshole in the flesh, so I can’t say I’m surprised.”

  Henri’s eyes widened minutely, but on his carefully composed face it was a shout. “You…” he murmured, stepping back from the statue and dragging me with him, not even aware he was doing it, “you’re telling me he was an actual Angel, and not a magical artifact?”

  I resettled my balance, unhooking my arm from his in case he decided to run. “Yes. We had a disagreement.”

  “You trapped an Angel because you…disagreed with him,” he repeated flatly.

  “Well, I technically caught him as he Fell, but that sounds emasculating and inaccurate,” I admitted, staring at the statue. To me, it felt inanimate, but my thumb was practically smoking with arctic violence. Nameless wasn’t pleased at the discussion. Maybe that was what Henri was sensing.

  “Even in Paris, people spread rumors about the White Rose, but I never heard anything about this…” Henri said carefully. He reconsidered the silver statue, shaking his head slightly. “Mon Dieu!” he added as an afterthought.

  I was startled to hear my name had spread to Paris, but that last comment made my eyebrows almost jump off my forehead. I didn’t speak French, but I knew Dieu was the word for God. It was definitely not typical for a vampire to be able to speak the Lord’s name. And for the first time, I remembered we were standing inside a church. Henri should be bursting with flame right about now. It also told me why the vampire downstairs was still screaming. He was bound on Holy Ground, the very location likely torturing him in steady, relentless agony.

  Unless…my actions with Nameless had desecrated the place, which I hadn’t thought of up until right freaking now. Holy crap.

  The only reason Roland was able to stand inside a church was because Haven had given him an old necklace designed to protect vampires from that very thing. With his background as a Shepherd, we had all been concerned that Roland was very likely to fall into old habits—accidentally saying, “Bless the Lord,” and getting smited by a bolt of lightning.

  Henri had apparently noticed my reaction, because he carefully reached into his shirt to reveal a medallion. It was old and gaudy, looking as if fashioned during the Spanish Inquisition. “I live in a city full of old churches,” he explained. “You’d be surprised how many of us have these, or what loopholes one can discover with enough time and patience,” he said gently.

  I was ready for this conversation to be over, but I needed to know one thing. Well, it would lead to another thing. Two steps, remember?

  “Why did Le Bone dare to act so brazen?” I asked.

  Henri’s face tightened in annoyance. “When you live as long as us, you learn how important reputations can be. You cherish them, nurture them, protect them. Younger vampires are eager to build their own reputation, to stand up against us older vampires. It seems he let his ego get the better of him, trying to fly before he could walk.” Henri turned to me and dipped his head. “And thanks to you, he will suffer for it. You have my sincerest gratitude and deepest apologies for his crimes. As a representative of the Sanguine Council, I also thank you on their behalf.”

  I nodded politely, but my mind was suddenly racing. Since I was dead inside and had very little innate trust for strangers—especially after my long night—my conspiracy senses began to tingle. If Henri and the Sanguine Council had orchestrated all of this…it was pretty much exactly how I would have planned it. Establish a common enemy in Le Bone, earn instant trust, sabotage and betray that trust later. The question was why?

  “I take it you had a reason for coming to Missouri,” I asked Henri, keeping my paranoia from my voice. “It can’t just be about Roland because you had him in your clutches not long ago in Italy. Which means you are here about someone else, or something else. I’d like to know what that is. Now.”

  Roland was watching us from across the room, likely hearing every word and wondering the same thing. Cain also looked attentive but made a good show of pretending to be focused on the fire. Roland had trained me, so each and every instinct I relied upon was simply a hand-me-down from the older man. If I was thinking it, Roland had already likely thought of it and moved forward a few steps. Then again, Rolan
d had always told me I often came to conclusions ahead of him, even if I typically used more unorthodox methods.

  “The Sanguine Council desires a firmer hand regarding Kansas City,” Henri replied, seeming to carefully consider his response.

  “Then they should be speaking with Haven…not Roland.”

  Henri nodded. “That was the point of my visit. Haven sent me here, remember?”

  I wasn’t sure I fully bought the narrative, but I forced myself to nod. Perhaps Haven had sent him here, or perhaps Haven had been manipulated into sending Henri here. I’d check Roland’s thoughts on the subject. Which meant it was time for Henri to say night-night.

  “Well, it was a pleasure speaking with you, Henri. I’m sure Haven is waiting, and we know how cranky Master Vampires can get when they stay up past their bedtimes.” Because it was some time after sunrise, now.

  Henri did not take offense at my dismissal, merely nodded with a warm smile. He either appreciated my candor, or he was secretly considering dismembering me in the basement of the church after his daytime nap. “It was my pleasure. I can now say I have met—and survived—the White Rose,” he chuckled, extending a hand to me. I shook it with a smile of my own, sure to make it look genuine. Because there was always the chance that he was a good little vampire. Similarly, there was always the chance that he wasn’t.

  And girls should always keep their options open.

  Proving Roland had been listening in, I heard a Gateway rip into existence and I turned to find a crimson portal standing open near the fire. A trio of vampires waited patiently on the other side, straightening as if coming to attention. Haven had designated a spot on his property for Roland’s Gateways, keeping a small contingent of vampires ready and waiting at all times.

  I’d deflected countless requests from Haven about purchasing some of Grimm Tech’s portable Gateways—glass marbles Nate Temple had designed that let anyone create a passage wherever they were thrown. They obviously weren’t part of the company’s official product line—because they liked to toe the line between a legitimate company and a magical armorer for the supernatural crowd.

  Like Air Jordan sneakers for basketball aficionados, everyone wanted to get their hands on Nate’s Tiny Balls—as he had named them—and since he loved to rub in the joke, he now only sold them in sets of two, forcing clients to fill purchase orders that stated requests for a dozen pairs of Nate’s Tiny Balls.

  Henri dipped his chin at us in goodbye, and then stepped through the portal. Roland let it wink shut a few moments later and finally turned to us, seeming to quiver with pent-up fury.

  “Now, the two of you are going to get out of those wet clothes and tell me exactly what happened tonight,” he snarled.

  “This church rocks. Get naked and repent!” Cain cheered, holding up a fist.

  Roland shot him a very dark look, pointing at the door behind him that led up to the office. “Extra clothes are in the wardrobe. Might be a little vampy for you, Cain, but I don’t care. Callie, you know where your extra clothes are.” I nodded, leading Cain through the door.

  We’d retro-fitted one of the extra meeting spaces into a type of office for me, a place where I could begin accumulating weapons, clothes, and whatever else I might need at a moment’s notice. Like a panic room.

  For when I needed to suit up to go hunting wabbits.

  Or go treasure hunting, apparently.

  Chapter 20

  I huddled under my blanket, shivering despite the roaring fireplace beside us—a natural one this time. Roland paced back and forth, reading a piece of paper and looking haggard because it was after sunrise. Since my phone had taken a swim in the fountain and refused to come back to life, Roland had made me use his computer to login to the cloud and print out the image that proved my wild claims about Solomon’s Temple and this quest.

  We sat on comfy chairs in a back office of the church to avoid windows and sunlight for Roland’s sake. Cain leaned forward, rubbing his hands together to absorb the heat faster. His back was a mess of scars, all neat, shining, silver lines like a geometric mandala of past pain. His bulging muscles only emphasized the scars, and I had noticed him flinch involuntarily several times. Whether from the bone-deep cold caused by our dip in the bloody fountain or from flashbacks of our near encounter, I wasn’t sure.

  Our escape from the fountain had been excruciating; each rustle of a leaf, crackling twig, gust of wind, or distant voice almost sending us bolting like startled rabbits. I hadn’t dared risk using my magic to get us out of there. Not if it would deposit us right back into the fountain. We had kept to the shadows, vacating the park just before sunrise, shivering, dripping, and scared as all hell. We’d quickly found an alley and I had tested making a Gateway to safety—since I could look through it to make sure it was functioning properly, first. It had shown us sanctuary just outside Roland’s church and we had immediately leapt through. I had closed it behind me so fast that I might have even cut off my own foot without caring.

  After sending Henri packing, Roland had forced us to take a quick shower, informing us that we looked so cold that even our blood didn’t seem appetizing. Like cottage cheese, he had told us. He had personally bullied us into the shower together to warm up, and the two of us were so cold that we hadn’t cared about nudity, hopping immediately into the shower to be the first to touch—and control—the jets of blessed scalding water. The water had hurt like a firing squad, forcing us to lean our backs against each other and take the abuse until our bodies recovered. Roland had stepped out of view, but hadn’t left the bathroom the entire time, using the shower walls to trap us as he squeezed out the events of last night.

  Roland hadn’t been patient enough to let us get dressed after our shower, throwing blankets and towels at us and commanding us to sit before the fire and print out the picture as he peppered us with questions. Effectively, holding our clothes hostage.

  In light of the fountain drama, and the fact that Cleo had used her dying scream to inform me that the Sons of Solomon were definitely not going to leave me alone, he’d agreed that the Michael topic could be put on a shelf. But knowing him, he would have given his right arm to hear every single detail of my meeting with the infamous Archangel.

  Quid pro quo, he had refused to talk about Henri or anything related to vampire politics, telling me he would deal with it himself. I didn’t like the sound of that but didn’t have the time to do anything about it. Not with the Sons of Solomon breathing down my neck.

  And Last Breath.

  Roland grunted in frustration, snapping me out of my thoughts as he ran his hand through his hair, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. I hadn’t been kidding about the bedtime thing. I was impressed he was even standing right now. “I’ve never heard of this Song of Solomon quest. And I definitely never heard anything about this fountain being constructed in Kansas City.” He turned to look at me. “In fact, if I hadn’t seen this picture, I would be forced to doubt your story.”

  I frowned at him. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

  Cain was staring at the fire, unfazed. He’d been quiet for a while, fingering his dagger.

  Roland shrugged. “I made a small Gateway to see for myself. There was no fountain.”

  I blinked at him several times, not sure what to make of that. “When did you look?” I didn’t bother chastising him about the danger of his decision because he already knew it and had considered it worth the risk. And arguing wouldn’t help me right now. Roland was on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.

  “When you two were in the shower.” He stared at me with a troubled expression. “I didn’t see any fountain. Just trees. Not even cleared earth. Not even a piece of trash on the ground.”

  There should have at least been two coffee cups if nothing else, because I had no idea when I had dropped mine. “That…doesn’t make any sense. I saw the newspaper, the bus…” I explained the things I had seen, all talking about that park and the fountain. If anything, thi
s only bothered Roland more.

  Cain cleared his throat. “You didn’t listen to me, Callie. I told you something was off. That place wasn’t normal. I could feel it in my bones. And I never saw any of those signs before the fountain. Remember the newspaper?”

  I sighed, remembering very well. Cain had seen none of the signs that had led me to the park. “Maybe we stepped through a Gateway of some kind. It would explain why I wasn’t able to Shadow Walk us out,” I said, trying to think of any explanation that made sense. “You might not have seen the signs, but you sure as hell saw Cleo. You cut her freaking hand off. And I warned you to keep an eye on her. I knew something was strange about her.”

  Cain stopped fidgeting with his dagger and shot me a confused look. “What are you talking about?”

  “At the party,” I snapped, growing annoyed.

  He frowned harder, his forehead wrinkling. “You pointed to a pretty blonde woman. No one else was standing near her. No one,” he said with certainty. “I never saw Cleo before she tried to kill us at the park.” He lifted his dagger pointedly, the one he had been fidgeting with. “And for the record, there was no blood on my dagger after I cut her hand off. I remember because it shocked the living hell out of me.”

  The three of us were entirely silent for a few beats, not sure what to make of that. I remembered the confused look I had seen on his face right after. He was right. But at the same time, I had seen her blood spray in the air. “You also practically cut a guy’s head off, remember? I know he bled all over the pool, because we sat in it for about thirty minutes.”

  Cain looked at me very seriously, and then pointed his dagger at my torn dress hanging before the fire. I turned to see…what the hell? No blood? That… wasn’t possible. It should have at least been kind of pinkish. The dress had been pure white. Instead, it just looked dirty.