Maeve’s Book of Beasts

by Deborah Cooke

  But his key.

  Bella leaned closer, dropped her voice and whispered. “You promised,” she reminded him, her eyes glittering with the fire of the thirst.

  Sebastian didn’t appreciate the reminder. If nothing else, he knew he would think more clearly after he fed.

  “I found some perfect candidates,” she said, knowing that he preferred to hunt alone. Sebastian slanted a glance at her, wondering why she wanted to share. They were both loners, and he liked that about Bella. “It’ll be easy. Just like last time.”

  “You found them already?”

  “Bad enough now and they’ll be worse when they come out of that bar. One for you and one for me. You’ll be back in no time.”

  Sebastian was very tempted. One benefit of hunting with Bella is that she always had a plan.

  And it usually adhered to Micah’s rules. He wasn’t so inclined to behave in Micah’s terms, but felt their alliance was on thin ice. Defiance over victims wouldn’t help his cause—or get his key back.

  “I have to be sure she gets home,” he said, drawing a line in the proverbial sand. Bella rolled her eyes but ceded the point. She seethed with restless energy and it was contagious, so that even Sebastian tapped his toe with impatience for Sylvia to lock her own door behind herself.

  “Werewolves,” Bella hissed, finally catching a whiff. She did have a tendency to ignore the obvious when she was thirsty.

  “Just one so far.”

  “They’re like cockroaches,” Bella scoffed. “There’s never just one.”

  “Exactly,” Sebastian agreed and folded his arms across his chest to wait.

  There was a guy on the porch of the townhouse where Sylvia lived, juggling a moving box as he sorted through his keys. He was trim but muscular, with short silver hair. Something about his appearance made Sylvia think he might be in the service. He was dressed simply but neatly in a leather jacket and jeans. He seemed to be favoring one leg a little bit.

  Maybe he wasn’t in the service anymore.

  She was startled when she spotted the ghost of a silver wolf above and behind him, just like the auras of the people at the bar. She hadn’t seen another since leaving there.

  Weird how the ghost looked like the dog that had befriended Emily.

  Sylvia shivered.

  “Silver fox alert,” Emily murmured as Sylvia was paying the fare, and she wondered if her friend saw the aura, too. Before she could ask, Emily was out of the cab and talking to the guy. “Moving in?” she asked and he spared her a wary glance.

  Emily wasn’t shy, that was for sure.

  “Just trying to sort out these keys,” he said with a nod. His voice was low and he spoke calmly and slowly. “I thought this was for the front door.”

  “No, it’s that one,” Emily said, pointing to another key on his ring.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’m staying here.”

  He surveyed her, his gaze flicking to Sylvia, then fitted the key into the lock, putting his booted foot in the door. “So you say. You’ll need to come in with your own key,” he said, showing a lot better sense than Emily in Sylvia’s view.

  “I don’t have one. Sylvia lives here. I’m just visiting.”

  His brows rose at this wealth of information and his gaze landed on Sylvia again. She could feel the intensity of his attention from ten feet away and smiled. “Sorry about my friend. She’s from a small town.”

  “You should be more careful about sharing personal details,” he told Emily sternly. He nodded at Sylvia. “If you really have keys, I’ll see you inside.” Then he went inside and let the door shut behind himself.

  “Not very friendly,” Emily huffed.

  “But sensible,” Sylvia said. “I like that.”

  “Really?”

  “I don’t want to live in a building where the other tenants just let anybody in. That compromises security. Eithne would have my head if I encouraged that kind of thing.”

  “Eithne,” Emily muttered. “Does she even exist?”

  “Of course!”

  “When did you see her last?”

  “She lives right down there, on the garden floor.”

  “When did you see her last?” Emily repeated.

  Sylvia thought about it. “Two weeks ago. She gave me a check to pay the property taxes.”

  “Did she tell you about him?”

  “No. I thought the whole building was let.” Sylvia put her key into the lock and opened the door. The overhead light was on in the downstairs foyer and the door to 2F, the unit at the front of the main floor was open. The guy they’d just met was standing there, the box on the floor blocking the doorway. It was the smallest apartment in the house, which said something in that they were all studio apartments except for Sylvia’s. The stairway was flush against the left wall and the door to 2B was at the end of the hall beside the stairway. It was closed, though Sylvia guessed that Rachel might be watching through the peephole.

  “What happened to Carlos?” Sylvia asked.

  The guy shrugged. “Was that who lived here before?”

  “Until this morning.”

  “I don’t know.” This time, he smiled and offered his hand. Sylvia blinked at the change in his appearance. “Caleb Davison,” he said. His grip was firm and Sylvia had an impression that he was reliable. “Just moving in.”

  “So I see. Sylvia Fontaine. I’m on the top floor.”

  “Nice to meet you. I hope my dog doesn’t bother you. He doesn’t usually bark but you never know in a new place.”

  “You have a dog?!” Emily asked, starting toward his apartment with purpose.

  Caleb glanced over his shoulder. “He finally crashed after being on patrol all day. Don’t wake him up, please.” His smile was affectionate and made him look a lot less stern. “And when you see him, don’t be afraid. He’s big but friendly, unless there’s a good reason not to be.”

  “I didn’t know Eithne allowed dogs,” Emily said.

  Caleb shrugged. “She didn’t say. Maybe she made an exception for me. Loki and I worked together in the K-9 unit when I was a cop. He really took a liking to her earlier.”

  Sylvia blinked. Her aunt had found a new tenant within hours of Carlos moving out? That had to be a record. Usually, she asked Sylvia to solve it, after a unit had been empty for a week.

  “You’re not a cop any more?” Emily asked.

  Caleb tapped his left leg. “Taking a slug changes everything. Early retirement isn’t so bad, plus I have a new job as a security guard.”

  “That sounds like a good way to use your skills,” Sylvia said, heading for the stairs.

  He laughed a little, and it was a good rich sound. “Sort of. It’s at a circus, which is kind of different. Wait.” He ducked into his apartment and returned with a flyer. He did have a limp, but Sylvia pretended she hadn’t noticed. He gave the flyer to her. “If you ever want to go, let me know. I can get you a discount on admission.”

  “How long is it here?”

  He shrugged. “They said months. We’ll see. It’s pretty busy, especially on Fridays.”

  Circus of Wonders. She’d never heard of it.

  “A circus,” Emily whispered. “We could go tomorrow.”

  “You’re going back to Podunk tomorrow,” Sylvia reminded her.

  Emily winced. “I can’t change my ticket, either. It was too good of a deal. I’ll have to come back another time.”

  “In less than a year,” Sylvia teased and they laughed together. She said goodnight to Caleb and led Emily upstairs, well aware that he was watching them go. She heard his door close and lock, then the growl of a large dog. “I kind of like the idea of having an ex-cop in the building,” she said to Emily as they climbed the stairs. “And his dog.”

  There were three flights of stairs to Sylvia’s apartment, with two studio rentals on each floor. It was a longer climb than might have been expected, because the house had twelve-foot ceilings. Sylvia loved it, though, as well as the sweep
ing wooden bannister that coiled all the way up to the top floor. There was an oval skylight over the staircase on the roof, and she liked how the light flooded through the townhouse.

  She often thought of how beautiful it must have been as a single family home. The floors were hardwood and there was a fireplace in each unit—which meant there were two fireplaces in her apartment, the only one that took up an entire floor. With terraces front and back and sloped roofs, though, it wasn’t exactly enormous.

  “Especially in the unit beside the front door,” Emily agreed, huffing a little.

  “Eithne must have been thinking the same thing.”

  “You can’t be too safe in this city.”

  “Right. That’s why you tell everyone your business, even before they ask.” Sylvia softened her words with a smile and unlocked the door to her apartment.

  Emily dropped on the couch and kicked off her shoes. “I know. I’m just a country bumpkin. I forget to not be friendly.” She laid down and closed her eyes. “That drink was killer. I could fall asleep right now.”

  “And you’ll have a headache tomorrow, I bet.”

  The main room of Sylvia’s apartment had a kitchenette along one wall and a seating area, littered with books. The terrace ran the width of the house and faced roughly north east, which made it a cool refuge in the summer. The mechanicals in the house rose in a column beside the staircase, so all units had their bathrooms there, and Sylvia had the best closet. Her bedroom faced the front of the house, with another terrace, although this one was filled with planters. That southern exposure was great for her containers.

  Sylvia got her friend a big glass of water and a pair of aspirin. By the time she turned around, though, Emily was asleep on the couch with her mouth open. As Sylvia smiled, Emily started to snore.

  “Just like college,” Sylvia murmured and lifted Emily’s legs onto the couch. She left the water and aspirin on the coffee table, in case Emily woke up, then pulled a blanket over her. She turned down the lights, then felt a prickle on the back of her neck. Sylvia turned quickly, halfway thinking there had been motion on the terrace.

  But there was nothing there.

  What was wrong with her tonight? She made a cup of decaf tea to settle her nerves and pulled the book out of her purse. It looked like a notebook again, but then if she turned her head a little sideways and squinted at it, it became an ancient tome once more.

  Sylvia pulled up a stool and opened the book on the kitchen counter. She saw plain lined pages first, but then the same trick of tilting her head revealed the vellum pages with ragged edges. They looked to be covered with magical inscriptions, or words in a language she couldn’t read, and illustrations that seemed very old. There was new writing in it, too, in dark red ink. They looked like dates.

  Like here. There was a section with drawings of mermaids. Mermaids on rocks, combing their hair. Mermaids kissing sailors, their hair flowing around them both. Mermaids in the sea, their tails glittering and glistening. Then a red X and what looked like a date five years before.

  What did it mean?

  Here was a unicorn in a field of flowers, then another galloping through the forest with what had to be a maiden riding it bareback. Here was a third unicorn, its head in the lap of a maiden who gazed down at it with adoration. She seemed to have woven it a harness of daisies. Again, a red X, and a date—in 1853.

  Was it an inventory?

  But how could fantastical beasts be associated with calendar dates?

  Sylvia’s sense that she was being watched got stronger and she shuddered. She checked the door and the windows, pulled the drapes and went to bed, telling herself that it was exhaustion at work.

  But was it?

  Bella led Sebastian back toward the meatpacking district where Bones was located. She turned down a quiet side street, one with a few alleys and not many windows. The windows that did face the street were high, and dark. There were clouds slipping across that sliver of moon and the street was devoid of traffic.

  A pair of young men stumbled onto the street from the busier avenue ahead. “I tell you, the car is parked down here,” one said, his words slurred.

  “You don’t know where you left the car, you loser,” the other said, his drunken voice filled with laughter. “You never know where you leave the car.”

  “At least I have a car.”

  “At least I have money for beer, because I don’t have a car.” They laughed much harder at this than Sebastian thought it deserved, then continued to stagger down the street.

  “Look, there it is.”

  “That’s blue, dude. Your car is green.”

  “It’s blue.”

  “The last one was blue. Your new car is green.”

  “Damn. You mean I lost a new car? And I don’t even remember it?” Again they laughed, but Bella touched Sebastian’s arm.

  Just like last time. He nodded understanding and stayed in the shadows.

  Bella stepped out of the alley and walked quickly down the street toward the two young men. Sebastian smiled at her skill in pretending to be much younger than she was. He’d known her almost five hundred years, but anyone would guess that she was a mortal girl of maybe eighteen. She was blonde and petite, her hair flowing long down her back, her features delicate and pretty. On this night, she was dressed in pink and black, feminine and girlish. She was looking at something in her hand that could have been a cell phone and carrying a tote bag with a Hello Kitty logo, apparently oblivious to her surroundings.

  How many had underestimated her strength over those centuries? How many had failed to see her truth?

  Sebastian knew there would be two more very soon.

  The two young men straightened when they spotted her and stepped toward her as one, predators on the hunt. Bella continued to march straight toward them, apparently unaware of their attention. Sebastian could smell their lust, how it drove the haze of alcohol away, as well as their complete lack of compunction in taking whatever they wanted, no matter who paid the price.

  Bella had chosen well, as ever. Micah would have no quibbles with this pair leaving the world of the living.

  “Hey, there,” one of them said when she was just ten feet in front of them.

  Bella jumped, apparently startled, and dropped her phone. “Oh!” she said, with maidenly dismay.

  The two moved closer, flanking her. One picked up her phone. “Are you lost?” the other asked.

  “I’m just, I’m just trying to get home,” Bella said, her voice high with fear.

  “Bet you’d like this back,” said the one with the phone.

  “It’s my phone! Yes, please.”

  “How badly do you want it back?” asked the other.

  Bella made an incoherent sound of dismay.

  “Bad enough to trade a kiss for it?” asked the one with the phone. They closed around her, one on each side, and she looked between them in fear. One laughed. The other reached for her. Bella took a step back to an alley that was so close Sebastian knew she’d planned to encounter them right beside it.

  “Just a quick one. And not where anyone can see,” she said, her manner suddenly coy. She giggled, flicking glances between them, then beckoned to the one with the phone. The two men exchanged triumphant glances and the one without the phone gave his buddy a thumb’s up. Bella laughed, her manner flirtatious, and disappeared into the alley. Her prey followed her willingly.

  The other one strolled back and forth on the sidewalk, grinning at his friend’s score.

  Sebastian strode down the street with purpose, like a respectable man returning home. He stared at the young man as if offended by his presence, looking him up and down. “Are you loitering?” he demanded with indignation.

  “Just waiting for my friend.”

  “I don’t see any friend,” Sebastian said. “I suggest you move along, before I’m obliged to call the police...”

  The man raised a hand, as if he’d negotiate, and Bella gave a little gasp of terror in t
hat moment.

  Sebastian spun to glare into the alley. “What’s that? What’s going on in there? That was a woman! What is your friend doing to her?” He charged into the alley, rushing to the defense of the woman in jeopardy, knowing the friend would be right behind him.

  He was.

  Sebastian stepped aside, letting him see Bella feasting on his friend. She crouched above her victim beside a Dumpster, her skin fair in contrast to the blood flowing from the wound in his neck. She looked feral and dangerous as she drained him, and her victim’s expression was one of shock.

  The fly of his jeans was open, showing the true measure of his character and intentions. Blood ran from the wound there, staining the denim and the ground.

  “What the...” the friend whispered, then pivoted to run. He didn’t even manage to take a step before Sebastian seized him from behind, hurled him to the ground, then ripped open his throat. The last sound he made was a moan after the blood gurgled forth—lovely, luscious, rich red blood. Sebastian drank, feeling the power surge through him, feeling the thirst sated and his energy rebuild. He devoured his victim’s essence quickly, sucking him all the way dry.

  The thirst had been strong.

  In Sebastian’s experience, there were leisurely feasts and quick snacks. Although he had never turned anyone, there had been a few times when he had considered it. There were vampires who had turned victims with poor technique, but not Sebastian. Now he was old and practiced and efficient.

  He cast away the carcass of his victim, feeling sated and warm. Triumphant. Bella threw aside hers with disgust, and Sebastian could see that his corpse was dry as well. She indicated the Dumpster and they easily lifted the two bodies into it. There was already a collection of trash there. Bella took the inevitable bottle of lighter fluid from her Hello Kitty bag and emptied it over the corpses before turning to Sebastian.

  “Are you doing the honors this time?” she asked, and he nodded.

  Micah did not like them to leave any obvious signs of their feeding. Questions from mortals complicated matters unnecessarily—and there were always questions when corpses were found devoid of blood with punctures at the neck.