Raven, Red

by Connie Suttle

  "After last night, I think they're desperate," Val said.

  "What happened last night?"

  "You haven't heard? It's all over the news," Nico said. "There was a freak earthquake on the Franks' ranch last night. Happened to coincide with Mitchell Franks stampeding their sick cattle in this direction. The earth just split open and swallowed all of them before they could set foot on this property. The Sheriff's Department seems to think fracking caused it."

  "There's a lot of that going on," Erly pointed his fork at Nico. "Nothing good ever comes of that, mark my words."

  "Denton's wife called Val this morning. After Mitchell was killed by lightning in that thunderstorm last night, Denton wants to get rid of the property and fast," Janie explained.

  "He was carrying his rifle, barrel pointed upward," Ari said. "Lightning just fried him to a crisp. Threw Denton across the yard and singed the Sheriff's uniform. Everybody headed for cover after that happened."

  "To divine intervention," Mac held up his glass of wine. He winked at Ari as the others echoed his toast.

  "How dangerous will it be if I hop back to my house for more clothes?" Ari asked Mac and Nico. They'd gone to the game room after lunch. "I didn't know we would be gone this long," Ari mused. "Is someone watching the house?"

  "Burke hired someone to take care of the outside—the lawn and flower beds," Nico said. "I asked him to. I haven't heard that the lawn service has been attacked."

  "As long as you transport yourself inside and don't go outside—and the locks haven't been tampered with," Mac replied after thinking about it for a moment.

  "What if they come looking for sign of her later?" Nico turned to Mac. "Will they be able to scent her?"

  Mac considered that for a moment. "If they become demon, they can tell a fresher scent from an older one, but that will only occur inside the house. They will realize, however, since there's no scent following you out the door, that you arrived and departed in an unnatural way."

  "So they'll know that I'm alive and helping Nico?"

  "Yes."

  "Are we sure there will be demons?"

  "I think we can guarantee it at this point. The stone has left Spain. That, in itself, spells trouble for all of us. The demon strain will not be held back by the safety net constructed there by prior holders of the stone. On this continent, no such spells have been laid, leaving the victims to become what they were intended—first the creatures you call zombies, and then demons, if the zombies aren't beheaded in a timely manner."

  "Then I'll have to keep washing clothes every few days," Ari sighed.

  "I think Janie will order for you," Nico suggested.

  "I'm already taking advantage of her hospitality. I don't want to ask her to spend money on me, too."

  "That's not what I'm suggesting," Nico pulled a card from his pocket. "Claudio gave us emergency funds—there's plenty left on this bank gift card that we didn't use before."

  "Just consider it money well spent by the vampire council—we're helping to protect their food source."

  "You've had dealings with them before?" Ari studied Mac's face.

  "Several times, beginning with the time I had to tell them what was happening when it only looked like the precursor to a World War."

  "Please don't ask him about it—I've seen the visions in my nightmares. It's horrible," Nico begged.

  Someday, I'll tell you, Mac mentally told Ari. The boy's right—none of this is pleasant conversation.

  All right. "Card, please," she held out her hand for the gift card. "I'll ask Janie to order a few things."

  "Order a pair of hiking boots, too," Mac advised. "Something sturdy, just in case."

  "On it." Ari waved the card as she walked out of the game room.

  "Janie would pay for anything Ari wants, and she's worried about overstaying her welcome," Nico shook his head.

  "Ari hasn't had the best childhood, with a murdered father and a grieving mother," Mac said. "She's been forced to carry that burden for a long time and doesn't want to dump it on somebody else that she cares about."

  "You think she had anything to do with Mitchell Franks getting fried?"

  "If she did, it was quick and relatively painless—more so than her father's death."

  "Has anyone controlled lightning before?"

  "A couple of times, and none this early in the game."

  "I'm grateful my mother told me in a dream that Ari needed to hold the stone," Nico remarked.

  "Your mother held the stone for a short time—before she gave it to you. I can't help but think she knew exactly what she was doing."

  "I miss her. And Papa."

  "I know." Mac draped an arm around Nico's shoulders. "They still watch over you, kid. I can feel it."

  "It was her roots in Spain that she went looking for," Nico pulled away from Mac. "Papa's family—most of it, anyway, came from Mexico."

  "He still may have had Spanish ancestry—you know that. The stone has a stronger connection to you than most I've seen."

  "I haven't dreamed a reason why, yet."

  "The stone knows what to tell you and when. Have patience."

  "How much patience do you think the Adversary will have?"

  "Very little, but he has to pull the population to his side to do his worst. Don't worry, that will happen fast enough, if experience has taught me anything. Set the people against themselves, and then sit back and watch while the minions jump on his command—then blame it all on the opposition."

  "So it's like the witch blaming Dorothy for the flying monkeys in The Wizard of Oz?"

  "That describes it perfectly," Mac agreed.

  "Get what you know will wear well and hold up," Janie advised as she and Ari flipped through clothing choices on the Internet. "Something may look great in the pictures and be nothing but cheap crap when you get it."

  "I hate that you can't feel fabric through a screen," Ari smiled at Janie. "I'll go with brands I've bought before and shoes and boots I know will fit."

  "We'll return what doesn't work," Janie nodded.

  "On another note," Ari said as she dumped five T-shirts into her cart, "I'm kinda worried about tonight—like something won't go right, somehow."

  "You feel that about the ranch?" Janie now looked worried.

  "No—it isn't local, whatever it is," Ari explained. "I don't know what it is, it just worries me."

  "Val was contacted by a realtor right after lunch—the Franks are serious about selling, looks like."

  "Have they named a price?"

  "They're still working on that—I think the realtor has to go out and look at the property—to see everything that's wrong with it before making a suggestion."

  "Have the cows started stinking, yet?"

  "Henry says he can smell them very well."

  "Maybe the realtor will be able to smell them too—when he gets there."

  "I have no idea when he'll get there—Val says it's somebody from Fort Worth who specializes in farms and ranches—he doesn't know the man. Burke usually goes through another realtor he knows, and he may be in the loop already."

  "I hope they suggest a fair price, then," Ari mumbled, adding several pairs of her favorite jeans to the online cart.

  "Don't forget socks—for your boots and athletic shoes," Janie tapped her computer screen.

  "Oh, yeah." Ari entered women's socks in the search box.

  "And a wheeled suitcase or duffle to hold it all—just in case. Mac said some traveling may be required; I have a feeling our FBI agents are going to ask for help soon enough. Laronda and Del belong in a special division of the agency—a lot of shifters and a few vamps already work there. They have human partners a lot of the time."

  "How did you find out about that?"

  "Mona—she asked Laronda. That girl has always been the direct sort."

  "Whatever works," Ari added socks to her cart. "Shortest distance between knowing and not knowing."

  "They're enjoying the pool this afternoon,
" Janie said. "Lance told Del and Laronda to pack swimsuits. Hunter and Erly had something with them in their bags."

  "I think I'll buy one for myself," Ari breathed and tapped the request in the search box.

  "Good idea. Buy for Nico and Mac, too."

  "Is that really Mac?" Hunter asked Nico. Both were watching Mac's raven dipping in and out of the waterfall feature, bathing in bird fashion and flinging water droplets around him as he fluffed and flapped.

  "I think he's enjoying himself," Nico nodded. "We don't have swimsuits, so this is the only way he can get in the water and still be decent."

  "I ordered swimsuits for you and Mac," Ari took a patio chair near Nico's. "Should arrive in the next two days."

  "Thank you," Nico turned a bright smile toward Ari.

  "Thank Janie. She suggested it."

  "You didn't get anything embarrassing, did you?"

  "Not for you," she teased. "You'll look good in red and black, I promise."

  "Did you get Hawaiian shorts for Mac?"

  "I thought about it—flowers and everything. Instead, I got him a suit with a Ravens logo—for the ice hockey team."

  "They did okay last season," Hunter supplied. "I watch minor league hockey with Erly now and then. Since the team is from his hometown, he keeps up with them."

  "He's from New Orleans?"

  "Don't let him catch you saying it like that. Say Nawlins instead."

  "I heard that," Erly called out from his float at the center of the pool.

  "Sorry, Erly," Hunter grinned. "You know I have to educate whenever it's required."

  "Then you need to follow me around. Plenty of folks need educatin'."

  "It's my goal and life's work," Hunter slapped a hand over his heart. Erly snorted a laugh.

  "That was a mighty fine meal, Mrs. Killebrew," Darnell Cheatham patted his belly. "And a fine sermon, too, Reverend," he complimented his hosts, who'd invited him to their home near the church.

  "Bobby Ray is on his way, now, with the original recording," Reverend Killebrew pushed his chair back from the table and stood. "Senator, would you like coffee in the living room?"

  "I sure would."

  "Phyllis," Killebrew turned to his wife, who looked frazzled after putting a full meal of fried chicken, mashed potatoes with gravy, and homemade green beans with bacon on the table after church.

  "I'll have it ready in a minute," Phyllis promised, as Killebrew led Darnell toward the sanctuary of the living room so Phyllis could get on with the chore of making coffee and then cleaning up the kitchen.

  A knock sounded on the front door shortly after coffee was served, and Darnell was introduced to Bobby Ray Gentry, who carried a video camera case in his left hand while shaking hands with the right.

  "Just happened to be out that night, huntin' raccoons," Bobby explained as he settled on the sofa and opened the case. "Here's the original recording—sorry it's so grainy, but it was late at night."

  "I have people who can fix those problems," Darnell waved off Bobby Ray's concern. "I have cash, if that's acceptable."

  "That, and the promise that these people will get what's coming to 'em. Not a Christian in the lot, for damn sure. No idea why the woman and the boy showed up for church afterward—maybe they were checking out the enemy standing between them and sending everybody to the devil."

  "No doubt," Darnell murmured as he took the small plastic case containing an SD card. "This is for you." He pulled an envelope from his pocket and handed it over. "The Lord always helps those who keep the faith and fight his battles."

  As Darnell spoke those words, Bobby Ray blinked—had he seen a righteous glint in the Senator's eyes? Whatever he'd seen, it made him want to do exactly what the Senator said; fight the Lord's battles. Destroy the Lord's enemies. He'd consider that—and the best way to do just that, making the Lord and the Senator happy at the same time.

  "Yes, sir, Senator," Bobby Ray stuffed the envelope in his back pocket, half-rising from his seat to do so.

  "Want coffee, Bobby Ray?" Killebrew asked.

  "No, thanks, Rev. I have plans with my cousin Billy this afternoon, but we'll be at the service later."

  "I'll look forward to seeing you then," the Reverend replied.

  "Well, I better get going—that motor won't fix itself," Bobby Ray rose and shook again with Darnell. "Nice to meet you, Senator. Will we see you in the congregation again?"

  "It was a fine sermon," Darnell said. "I may become a regular."

  "Good to hear. Thanks again."

  Killebrew saw Bobby Ray to the door; a few words were exchanged between the two before Killebrew rejoined Darnell. "Tell me how the proposed legislation is going on the new immigration bill."

  "Before we get into that, do you have information on other friends like Bobby Ray? I think I'd like to speak with them."

  "Phyllis," Killebrew called out. "Bring me that list of websites from my desk."

  Phyllis rushed in with a folder in less than two minutes, presenting it to Killebrew without a word.

  "Kitchen clean yet?" Killebrew narrowed his eyes at her.

  "Just about. Only have to wipe counters and it's done."

  The reverend waited until his wife was back in the kitchen before handing the folder to Darnell. Then, he settled in for the Senator's report on the immigration bill.

  "Because I hate picking bunny fur out of my teeth the next day," Ari poured a glass of iced tea to go with her sandwich.

  Erly had asked her why she was eating dinner before the moon rose for the evening. "I do the same thing, sometimes," Hunter confessed.

  "Is that why you bring me the whole deer when you take one down?" Erly asked him.

  "Yeah. I go hunting when I know you need meat," the boy shrugged. "Deer are more of a challenge, but I know you like rabbits and squirrels, too."

  "Haven't bought meat in two years," Erly grinned at Ari. "Kid keeps me supplied."

  "I think I figured out why you like hockey," Ari told him, changing the subject.

  "Why's that?" Erly asked, curious.

  "It's the puck, isn't it?"

  A slow grin spread across Erly's face. "Damn straight. I could bat that thing around a lot better than they can—if they'd let my cat play."

  "Any cat shifter would be an excellent goalie," Ari said.

  "I like the way you think," Erly laughed. "May as well have a sandwich with you." Erly pulled the bag of bread across the island. "Want one?" he asked Hunter.

  "Sure. I'll grab the mayo."

  "I feel it too," Mac told Nico. "A turning point, I think. From now on, the battle will be fully engaged, and it will happen faster than most will believe."

  "How long does it take for a demon to form?" Nico asked. He sat on the floor in Mac's bedroom, looking up at Mac, who'd taken the bedside chair.

  "Days or weeks—a lot depends on who they were before and where they hide during the change—they grow faster if they're in a safe place."

  "You think they'll strike the first blow?"

  "I don't get that vibe—not yet, anyway. I believe this first strike will be all too human."

  "What if it involves Hunter's aunt? I still think she's in a lot of danger."

  "We gave her as much information as we could. There's a point where you have to step back and let them make the final decision, good or bad, without giving too much away. We must keep our names and natures out of this. Staying alive to fight the coming war is far more important."

  "We don't need the entire country going nuts because they just found out there are werewolves, vampires and other shifters among the population. Imagine what the Adversary could do with that kind of information," Nico sighed.

  "That's exactly what we want to avoid—handing them a convenient enemy to wage war against. Once they've formulated their plan, they'll add their demons to the enemy list, while controlling them to destroy swaths of the population."

  "Beginning with the ones they don't like?"

  "Got it in one, kid."
r />   "How long before we join forces with Lance, Mona and the FBI agents?"

  "Soon, I think—while their bosses are still capable of rational thought. If that rational thought ends, we may be forced to break away and form our own army, including more vamps. Claudio will call them in when we ask. He also has a few places set aside to house and feed an army, if it becomes necessary."

  "Ari and I—will we be strong enough by then to help you shield that place?"

  "That's the big question, isn't it? If the Adversary moves quickly, well." Mac didn't finish—he didn't have to. "We've never fought against all the weapons the Adversary can use; they've been prevented in the past, purely by the spelled location or lack of resources. Here, it's open warfare, with every option on the table."

  "What are you not telling me?" Nico asked.

  "It won't happen—the gateway is blocked."

  "Gateway?"

  "It's nothing to worry about; once that gateway was blocked, none who are on the other side of it have gotten through. They won't either, unless we lose this war. And, if we lose this war, all is lost anyway."

  "How did all this land on us, Mac?" Nico whispered.

  "I'm cursed—that's how I'm involved. You and Ari? Fate often chooses the ones everyone else overlooks. The stone evidently saw something in you—that's the best explanation I have."

  "What kind of stone is this?" Nico drew the carved shell from his pocket to study it.

  "Jet. It's from an ancient tree and not a stone. A tree that never grew on this Earth."

  "Then how?" Nico turned a puzzled gaze on Mac.

  "No more questions. It's almost sundown and I need to speak with Claudio before the others go out for the full moon."

  "I have healed perfectly," Renault responded to Mac's question. "Arianne's talent saved my life."

  "That, and the fact that a vampire's flesh is harder to penetrate than a normal human's," Mac agreed. "Had that bullet exploded farther in your brain, even Ari couldn't have saved you."

  "My would-be killer is deceased. Should I thank her for that, too?" Renault asked.