Witch Gone Viral

by Sami Valentine

  Her jaw dropped. She’d imagined that if he watched movies they would be avant-garde Eastern European cinema, not orcs chasing hobbits.

  His grin widened at her surprise. “I do watch movies. If you came to the cabin for Christmas, you could have watched a few with me.”

  Pushing away the easy banter that came to mind, Red put the seat up and bundled his coat in her lap. He made it easy to forget what he was. In the twists and horrors of the night, she hadn’t thought about the danger that lent her his coat. Business was a safer topic for them. They couldn’t be friends. Even if he had been one tonight—from fighting beside her to telling her hard truths that she didn’t want to hear.

  “You’ve been busy. I assume you called your Prince, Cora, and Nedda in that order.”

  “Good guess,” he said, voice hushed and husky. The city lights cast a thin beam over his eyes. The piercing blue gaze met hers. “Don’t worry. As far as they know, we agreed to split up when Selene evaded your shot.”

  Red chewed the inside of her cheek. He hadn’t contradicted the story she had told Cora. Kristoff wasn’t helping Lucas; he was helping her. Cora would be furious if she knew that Lucas had let Selene escape. He had already been poking at her patience. The supreme master might have been stone cold in vampire politics, but she cared about innocents caught in the crossfire.

  She nodded. “I guess we have our story straight, then.”

  A secret curved on his lips, deepening the dimple on his chin. “We always did.”

  His earlier question echoed in her head. He had been too calm when he put together the dots about what Matt had told her. “You knew all along about my soul.”

  “It was our delightful conversation in that parking garage. You remember, you held a shotgun in my face?” Eyelashes lowering, Kristoff grinned. He turned onto the street where Moon Enterprises towered over the neighborhood. “Juniper was always ahead of her time. It was like I had finally met her where she was supposed to be. The more we talk, the more I can hear her spirit. You’re unique, Red, don’t mistake me. You’re not exactly her. Juniper had a hard life and the scars to show for it. She thought a lot more than she spoke, but that cleverness, the bravery, the crack shot… Yeah, I knew.”

  Heat creeping up her cheeks, Red looked down at her fidgeting hands. She had been expecting fireworks when he found out, not contemplation. “What are you going to do?”

  Kristoff tapped an app on his phone. “Finish our job.”

  The rolling door opened to the garage under the vampire headquarters.

  “Good, then.” Red furrowed her brow, lungs fluttering, and nodded. “Business, it is.” Stepping out to unpack the parked car, she steeled herself to meet the supreme.

  Moon Enterprises hadn’t just been renovated after the Halloween failed coup. It had been fortified, from mystical wards suppressing magic to bulletproof windows. She bet there were cameras on cameras. Whatever was brewing in her personal life, she had a comatose vampire in the trunk and a computer tower full of evidence. The time for personal business was done.

  Stepping into the elevator, clutching the tote bag with the computer, Red practiced what she would say to Cora. Even hazy in the steel, Red’s reflection looked paler than usual. She tried not to sneak glances at Kristoff or the body he held. The closing metallic doors didn’t capture his reflection.

  Kristoff stared ahead. The rolled-up bundle of sheep skins sagging over his shoulder was almost long enough to hide Father Matthew, but the tips of his worn work boots stuck out.

  The latest single by Mr. Hyde serenaded them in the elevator. Former Quinn Investigation’s client and current Grammy winner, the rapper dropped hypnotic slow beats over a steampunk orchestra. “… I go my own dark way. The animal within, the chops of memory…”

  Red had been there the night his recording studio’s walls ran red with blood. Dark witchcraft had nearly killed him. She shivered, remembering the hate in Nevaeh Morgan’s eyes as the actress tried to kill Red. The weight of the anti-magic ward in the building almost felt comforting to Red. Soulmancy could be a beautiful gift, but tonight it had been corrupted. Magic in the wrong hands. The trouble was knowing who had the right ones.

  The elevator opened on the penthouse hallway. The 70s décor of cream velvet wallpaper and heavy furniture was the backdrop to a tense buzz of activity. Smoking sage fought vainly against the negative vibes. Red’s shoulders tensed as she stepped out.

  Delilah and Quinn stood, heads bent and mouths pinched, whispering by the window. It looked like the old-fashioned gumshoe had finally teamed up with the femme fatale in crimson for some Double Indemnity.

  Nedda paced in a gray pant suit and ruffled blue shirt, chewing on her bottom lip as she nodded, pressing a phone to her ear. “I don’t care about protocol. My partner was just fucking kidnapped by terrorists. Make it happen!”

  Even halfway down the hall, Cora was eye-catching in a fuzzy lime green coat. She frowned. Her hippie calm was as faded as the dulled crescent logo on her Moon Enterprises crop top. She shook her finger at her head of security, a hand on the hip of her low-slung jeans. “I don’t need guards on me, sugar. Secure the lower floors and make sure that—" Cora glanced at Red and Kristoff. Her voice lowered to a hoarse whisper. “Go now.”

  “But—" The bodyguard argued.

  Cora shooed him away. “I must preserve my vibe.”

  The guard nodded, looking peeved under his black sunglasses, and left through the stairwell. His puckered forehead said he had memorized the scene.

  “You’re going to want to start analyzing this.” Red held out the computer bag before nodding toward Matt slung over Kristoff’s shoulder. “And him.”

  Nedda rushed to Red, holding out her hand without taking the phone away from her head. “Seymour, what I am going to send you, it can’t be run on the usual networks,” she said, taking the bag and passing by Cora to turn into an open office. “Go to your mom’s basement for all I care.”

  Cora strode forward, doe eyes fixed on Matt’s disguised body as if seeing through every layer.

  Red glanced over at Kristoff.

  Kristoff strode forward, skins on his shoulder like a shepherd hauling back a wayward sheep. The group stilled at his passage. All eyes were on the wrapped mechanic on his shoulder.

  Red felt like she was spying on a secret. The Brotherhood database had been glitching the last week, so she couldn’t do any research. She hated this lost feeling, trying to put together the connections between these people who had so much history together.

  Quinn stared at Kristoff’s burden. Tension from the night hung heavy on his stoic brow.

  Delilah turned from the rolled-up skins with distaste.

  Biting her lip, Cora took the man-sized sheepskin bundle from Kristoff with all the effort of lifting an infant. Cradling the swaddled vampire, she pulled the fur from his face. Reddish tears darkened the whites of her eyes. “Matthew… this was really the man who showed us who are. Now, the secret of Soul House is at risk.”

  Delilah put her hand on Cora’s shoulder, nose wrinkling from the seemingly awkward position of comforter. She gestured to Quinn and jerked her head toward the supreme in the international sign of ‘do something.’

  Quinn led Cora, holding Matt, into another room and closed the door.

  Red glanced at Kristoff, nodding toward the retreating trio. What was the deal?

  Kristoff shrugged as if she understood souled vampires as much as he did.

  Emerging from the office, Nedda glared at she stomped over to Delilah. “You’ve really screwed every pooch on this one.”

  “I inherited this clusterfuck.” Delilah tossed her hair back. “Don’t harp at me because I know you can’t do shit even if Higbee had her DVA in order. You won’t let your office touch this either because god forbid one someone learns who was at Soul House. Alzbeta Czernin the Supreme Master of Prague has a soul. The scandal of it all.”

  Head leaning back, Nedda gaped wordlessly at Delilah.

 
Red had thought she’d recognized the name. Alzbeta was the founder of Kristoff’s clan and the mother of Prince Marek. No wonder the pint-sized supreme in Portland was keeping tabs on the raid. The bloodshed had wrecked Red’s ability to play her least favorite game: Guess that Notorious Vampire!

  “Put away the claws until there’s a real fight.” Kristoff stepped forward, eyes flicking to Nedda, wordlessly communicating as only old friends could. He squared his shoulders to address Delilah. “You’ve got us. Marek can’t show a public force and reveal his mother’s secret. We need to be delicate. That’s in your favor. Be grateful.”

  Delilah narrowed her eyes, hackles raising under her red designer dress.

  “Imagine the hellfire on your neck if we didn’t.” Kristoff’s lips curved, but it looked more like a warning than a smile. “Or if Marek decides he just wants his mother. Come what may.”

  “Hellfire is the least of it if I don’t get my Alz back.” Nedda crossed her arms. She turned and started to walk down the hall.

  “She isn’t your sire.” Delilah enunciated each syllable, chipped and cold.

  If Red could have manifested popcorn, she would have. Finally, it wasn’t her personal life creating the drama.

  Nedda pivoted. Amber flashed in her irises. She huffed, fangs peeking out beneath her twitching lip. “Seriously? You come at me with that?”

  “Face it, girl, it’s still not her blood in your veins.” Delilah traced a red-tipped finger down her throat. “Joined her clan, took her name, and hopped in her bed, but you’re still one of mine. Remember that.”

  “She has done more for me than you ever did, you vindictive cow.” Nedda stomped forward, finger pointed like a spear in a joust.

  “I gave you eternal life!”

  “Red card.” Kristoff caught Nedda around the waist, hauling the slim immortal teenager up, and pulled her into the office. He kicked the door shut behind him just as Nedda started yelling at him.

  Shaking her head, Delilah turned away.

  “Everyone has sire issues tonight.” Red gestured to the window, out of easy eavesdropping range. She walked to it with her hands in her pockets, head bowed, waiting for Delilah to follow. The story that Kristoff had given was good enough for the rest of them, but Delilah needed to know that Lucas had gone on his own. “Lucas, he saw Selene tonight and…”

  “I know. They ran off to play tag as usual.” Delilah pursed her lips to cover a long-suffering sigh. “Children.”

  Face freezing, Red swallowed her unease at the implications in the vampire’s words. Apparently, Kristoff wasn’t lying about this being a pattern. “I could have gotten a shoulder hit and distracted her long enough for Kristoff to tackle her, but Lucas stopped me.”

  “Fool boy.” Lashes lowering, Delilah sucked in her cheeks and rubbed her temple. Pity flickered in her blue eyes as she looked at Red.

  Red ignored the crack in Delilah’s alpha bitch façade. The pity rubbed her like sandpaper. She didn’t need everyone to act like she had already been dumped. “He hasn’t returned my text, and the sun’s up in four hours. Has he called Quinn at least?”

  “No.” Delilah tossed her head back, tone turning annoyed. “Kristoff told us the latest annoying chapter in their saga. Thank god I was with Quinn when the call came. He was half in his convertible before he hung up.”

  “Well, Lucas will bring her in,” Red insisted. She didn’t know who her words were for more—Delilah or herself. “The rest don’t need to know that he’s pulling his punches in the meantime.”

  “I almost wish they knew. Then maybe I could twist Cora’s arm to have Kristoff track Selene.”

  “Really? You trust Kristoff.”

  “Don’t be so surprised. It wouldn’t be the first time he helped when Selene had one of her fits.” Pursing her lips in long-suffering patience, Delilah shook her head. “I need Quinn. I can’t lose him to some chase after his mad childe.”

  Red chuckled uncertainly. The room suddenly felt colder. “He’s the straight man in the Lucas and Quinn Odd Couple. The sensible one.”

  “It’s only standing next to Lucas that he seems like a Rhodes scholar,” Delilah sniped.

  “You’re acting like Quinn is going to disappear on us.”

  Delilah groaned and massaged her forehead. “Cora keeps talking about karma.” Rubbing a tight circle between her eyes, she lifted her top lip in a resigned scowl. “I love that bitch, but I really didn’t need that idea in my head right now. Of course, Quinn and I make up and then Selene has to appear.” Delilah wrinkled her nose. “Why am I talking to you like you know?”

  Red shrugged. “I have one of those faces.”

  “Ugh, that you do. If you were really Juniper, we could grab some wine and gab about it.” Delilah leaned against the window. “I made Quinn because he was exciting, and I get bored easily. Quinn made Selene because he couldn’t let an obsession die. Selene made Lucas to be worshipped when Quinn’s eye wandered. Tempestuous, yes, but it worked. For twenty years, the four of us were a whirlwind.”

  “A quarter of a whirlwind, what’s that—a really windy day?”

  “You’re sassy. You’ll be sassier when Selene turns you into a vampire.” Delilah cocked her head. “Or, more likely, she’ll just torture you until forcing Lucas to do it.”

  Red met the vampire’s sharp gaze. She had seen too much tonight to care about Delilah’s barbs. “With the Dague involved, it might just be livestreamed.”

  “Michel’s last ‘fuck you’ to me.” Delilah bared her teeth. “The Dague were just online agitators before he died, and a movement appeared out of nowhere.”

  Red opened her mouth. She didn’t know if she was going to ask more about the Dague or ask if getting a glass of wine was still on the table. It had been one of those nights.

  Cora walked into the hallway with Quinn’s hand on her shoulder. Pulling her grief off like a robe, she straightened, holding her head high. She beckoned to them. “Come around, gang.”

  Kristoff opened the office door, pointed gaze on Nedda as if telling her to behave.

  Nedda huffed, walking by him.

  “This is the deal: we’re in this mess and no one can know. We can’t afford leaks. All of us need a quiet resolution.” Cora met their eyes. “We’re a crew. Nedda, honey, I need you at the DVA. Neither of us wants video of Alzbeta’s kidnapping online. Delilah, you’re controlling the coverage on the Baker massacre. Work together, you two.”

  Sharing sour glares, Nedda and Delilah crossed their arms nearly in sync.

  “As you say.” Nedda’s expression looked as frozen as her words.

  Delilah sneered. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “You’ll find everything you need in my office to start spinning the story.” Cora watched the two vampires disappear through a door further down the hall. Hugging her arms around herself, the green fuzzy coat surrounded her like a security blanket. “Remind me to diffuse some essential oils in there. Clear that negative juju.”

  “What do you need from me?” Quinn asked.

  “Without Joe…” Cora bit her lip at her childe’s name. Crimson tears stained the whites of her eyes. Before she composed herself, the supreme looked like the loneliest woman in the world. She cleared her throat, dropping her hands and squaring her shoulders like a general. “Finish checking on the rest of the souled vampires, Quinn. We’ve tried to gather them for a count, but some are still hunkering down. I need to know my people are safe. We’re burning moonlight here.”

  “I should be tracking down Selene,” Quinn said.

  Cora shared a sidelong glance with Kristoff. Her forehead puckered in concern. “Lucas has that handled tonight.”

  “But—"

  “I need boots on the ground here. With Joe gone, I can count on my hands the vampires I trust right now. You’re one of the few, Quinn. These butchers are going after our friends.” Cora scolded. “This is bigger than your childe. Some of us have already sacrificed our own for the cause.”

 
; Bowing his head, Quinn nodded. “I’ll shake out the stragglers.” He turned and disappeared into the stairwell.

  “The night isn’t over for you either, Red.” Cora put her hand on her hips. “You’re putting in overtime. The Salton Sea doesn’t have the numbers for that many vampires. Where are they feeding? I need someone at the Paisa to see what the donors are saying.”

  Stiffening at the word donor, Red frowned. Donor was a really politically correct way to say bleeder—vampire groupies who sought the thrill of a bite.

  “Not alone.” Kristoff’s voice was soft, but his words landed with finality.

  “Of course not. She’ll be with my informant.” Cora flapped her hand in dismissal. “I realize the dangers.”

  “What kind of danger?” Red asked. “This Paisa sounds pretty ominous.”

  “It’s just a rave hosted by Fabio Gianni.”

  Glancing at Kristoff, Red cringed. She had destroyed that guy’s bar.

  Clearly sensing alarm, Cora put her hands up to defuse it. “It’s more college kids than supernaturals. They don’t even have bonfires anymore because of the fire warnings. You have a claim, you’ll blend in.”

  “I’ve been bouncing from crisis to crisis all night, Cora. It’s making me a bit twitchy. Can this informant handle a fight if it happens?”

  “I was kinda thinking that you’d be the bodyguard. He’s more of a lover than a fighter.” Cora glanced away, brushing her hair back.

  “So, I’m the muscle.” Red shook her head. She felt like a limp noodle, but she knew Cora didn’t have another human to send. Aisha Callaway wouldn’t blend in with her strait-laced cop vibe. More than that, Red would toss and turn if she went home. The nap had given her enough juice to worry until dawn. “What do I need for a rave? Glowsticks? More stakes?”

  Cora shrugged off her fuzzy green knee-length coat and tossed it over Red. “Now, you’re ready to rave.”

  Shrugging it on, Red steeled herself with the thought of the Welcome Café. This investigation needed to end. They needed real answers before more people lost their lives. She clenched her fists. “I’m ready to party. Where’s your guy?”