Witch Gone Viral

by Sami Valentine

  “Again? Ugh.” Red crossed her arms. She didn’t consider Sancha not killing her when Red was stuck in Cowboy Kurt’s lair as a rescue.

  “We’re down an informant.” Wincing, Kristoff ducked his head. He blurred quickly, transferring the bones into the trash shoot. Decay wafted out as he opened the lid.

  Skin crawling, Red realized that it wasn’t a shoot for trash.

  “You have found a better one.” Sancha lifted her chin. “I’ll leave with you. No chains.”

  Red and Kristoff glanced at each other.

  Kristoff nodded, adjusting his bruised jaw. His vampiric healing was still catching up to the pummeling the smaller woman had given him. At 345 years old, she was in a higher weight class by vampire standards.

  “These idiots are attacking claimed humans and dragging me into a battle with both Cora and Prince Marek. I am innocent. I came to LA to finalize Michel’s estate and get closure. Also buy expensive shoes.” Sancha pronounced grandly as she swept out of the room.

  Red followed and snarked. “Yes, your majesty.”

  He got ahead of the women to open the stairwell door. “So, why would the Dague want to recruit you?”

  Sancha sighed, rubbing her temple as she started up the half-renovated steps. “They may have already. Accidentally. I thought I was donating to keep some of Michel’s lesser childer alive.”

  “For the cost of a cup of coffee a day, you could support a poor minion.” Red quipped, holding onto the stair rail as her forehead throbbed. Bird might have been on heroin and flying high until he died, but her buzz had faded. Kristoff’s blood had already worked its magic. She was going to have to deal with this headache with aspirin.

  “More like I wanted to bedevil Cora a bit.” Sancha shrugged, nose in the air. “Give them enough money to survive in the city and annoy her.”

  “Who is their leader then?” Red stepped in sync with the queen.

  Sancha laughed. “They have none without Michel. The dagger was what he called his network of spies and ruffians. Only his hand wielded it. I don’t even recognize this digital incarnation of the Dague.”

  “We’re going to need better than ‘you paid rent money, and Michel’s old bodyguards joined the internet age.’” Kristoff warned as they reached the next landing.

  “What I know, I will say to Cora,” Sancha imperiously announced. “This information is my leverage. I’m not confessing all so you can try to get rid of me before we leave Koreatown. You can’t possibly take me in a fight, but it would be messy to kill you both.”

  “You two can measure fangs in the car.” Red shook her head before pushing open the stairwell exit. The round window in the door showed the security scanners and line entering the club lobby. “Let’s just leave the Fine Line.”

  Kristoff smiled and put an arm over her shoulders as they walked into the industrial concrete floor of the lobby. “Stay close, Red. They saw us come in together.”

  The black walls pressed in on her as they walked in the smaller line leaving the club. Biting back her frustration, she tried to relax her mouth and forehead to appear like a dazed claimed human, in a fang thrall and out on the town. She kept thinking about who was behind her. Her eye twitched.

  Turning into a dingy hall, two vampire bouncers stood watch, checking fangs at the door.

  Twirling her hair over the dried blood on her chest, Red ducked her head as she walked on the other side of Kristoff.

  One of the bouncers smiled and pointed at Kristoff. “Novak, my man, you’re leaving Blood Sabbath Sunday?”

  Kristoff slapped the man’s hand. “Jamal, I’m taking the party home.”

  “You’re the vampire I wanna be when I grow up.” Jamal laughed. “Enjoy that ginger mouthful.”

  Hiding her rolling eyes, Red gave a minute shake of her head so Kristoff knew what she thought of that idea. With Sancha on their heels, the two walked up the steps hidden as a utility tunnel entrance, squeezed between a parking garage and a Ralph’s grocery store. Hyper-aware of Sancha, Red instinctively fell back to her side along with Kristoff. The yellowed light of the streetlamps followed them as they walked back to the car in a nearby back alley.

  “We need to get out of here, Kristoff.” Red trotted to the passenger front door.

  “Already unlocked.” Kristoff reached for the driver’s side handle.

  “I’m not getting in there until I hear from Cora’s herself that I will be safe,” Sancha said, staring at their secluded parking space as if it were a hellmouth.

  “We don’t have time for this drama.” Red shook her head, leaning on the door handle before pulling out her phone from her pocket.

  “I’m worth all the drama.” Glaring, Sancha paced in front of the Mercedes-Benz. “Michel held his schemes close to his chest, but I knew him. I can spot his fingerprints on any plot. His rudderless minions don’t have his finesse, but they learned from him. You need me to see the pattern. I may not be in the Dague, but I do have a curious story. The minions that I met with asked one other thing from me. I still don’t understand what they got in trade for my promise to a traitor.”

  “Give me a name. Who was betrayed—Prince Marek, Cora, or the Blood Alliance?” Kristoff demanded.

  “My lips stay sealed, Novak. Unless I hear from Cora that I am secure.” Sancha crossed her arms.

  “I was already dialing,” Red grumbled, putting her phone to her ear. A cat yowled in the distance as the ringing began. Even squished between a grocery store and an outlet mall, she felt too exposed. They had left more bones than cash tips at the Fine Line tonight.

  “Red, chica, tell me the good news.” Cora chirped through the speaker.

  “We found you an informant, but she wants—"

  “Tell her that it is Sancha Maria Gonzalo Montez Constanza and I seek diplomatic immunity.” Chin raised like an empress, Sancha raised her finger to list her first demand. “I will be free to rule the OKC once I supply information. None of my childer will be harmed. I disavow any knowledge of Michel—"

  A raw tree branch jutted from the center of the silver sequined dress. Blood dripped from a single dangling leaf. Sancha stared down, eyes widening as if she didn’t believe it. Her eyes rolled up before the whites decayed. The Queen of the Prairie Dead crumbled to dust and sequins on the asphalt.

  In a black satin shift and pale like a ghost, Selene waved from over the ashes of the former Supreme Master Vampire of Oklahoma City. She giggled, a wild grin plastered on her face.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Cora’s tinny voice popped from the phone.

  Stepping away, back hitting the wall, Red gritted out, “We’re down a queen.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  January 27th, After Midnight, Koreatown, Los Angeles, California

  Heart racing, Red hung up her phone, leaving it on the hood of the car. Selene had staked the Queen of the Prairie Dead, their best lead to the Dague. Cora would be pissed. Red didn’t know who she was more worried for—herself or Selene. The Blood Alliance executed vampires for less.

  Bolting around his Mercedes-Benz, Kristoff barreled the full force of his wide shoulders into Selene. He managed to pin one pale hand to the asphalt. “You lunatic. You killed a supreme!”

  “You met a birdy from the sea.” Selene slashed her free hand up. Long nails sliced through Kristoff’s neck. Thin fingers gripped his hair and jerked his head to the side. The deep incision on his throat tore more. She rolled him over, straddling his midsection.

  Belly queasy at the sight, Red ran over to the two vampires.

  Kristoff gasped silently. His neck gaped open like a ghoulish red smile. Blood pooled on the ground below him. Legs kicking for leverage, he threw a wide punch.

  Selene caught it. She hung her head and commented sadly, “You should have been Lancelot.”

  Raising her hand, Red visualized the orb growing in her palm and pushed her intention into Neveah’s ruby ring. She tossed the semi-lumpy orb like a major league pitcher desperate to get a runner out.


  The glowing white orb struck Selene in the shoulder. Flung off Kristoff, she rolled across the asphalt. Head lowered, black hair over her eyes, she picked herself up, intoning, “Dead fishes and places that should never have been.”

  Leaping to his feet, Kristoff growled at Selene, rubbing his already scabbing over neck. He charged her.

  Lithe like a cat, Selene dodged, visible clearly for only a second. Her black satin skirt fluttered over her bare feet and dusty knees before she rushed Red.

  Crying out, Red tried to jerk her arm back.

  Selene pulled the ring off her finger and crushed it in her fist. “You burned my prezzie. I worked hard on sewing that dolly for you.”

  Diving to the side, Red somersaulted away from Selene. She cursed herself for losing the magical ring. That last orb hadn’t sucked. She almost had the hang of it.

  Kristoff wrenched a short metal pole from the ground. He ripped the reserved parking spot sign off of it. Facing Selene, he brandished the pole like a sword.

  “You want to slay the dragon for her. So sweet.” Selene giggled. “You’re her shadow, not her white knight.”

  Kristoff’s face darkened. He hacked downward with his makeshift weapon. Tall and broad shouldered, lean muscles tensing, he threw his might into the fight. He was fast, but Selene was faster.

  Dodging to the side, she giggled again at him. “You like taking hearts. Is it to replace the one you lost?”

  Red felt and heard the roar of a motorcycle engine echoing in the mouth of the alley.

  “My wicked prince, my Lucas is here.” Selene ran her hands down her hips and flicked her tongue on her lip. She darted away from another swing of the improvised sword.

  Face frozen, Red’s heart beat wildly in her chest. What did Selene mean? Did the Dague… Was Lucas still him? She hadn’t heard from him since Soul House.

  Lucas ran toward the fight. He slid under Kristoff’s signpost sword to pop up beside Selene. He put his hands on her shoulders, drawing her away. His lean, high-cheekboned face softened as he stroked her arms. His attention was solely on his sire. “No more running, Princess.”

  “She just killed Sancha Constanza,” Red spat out, side-stepping away from the wall. Her guts knotted. They had caught two potential snitches but were left with a pile of immortal dirt now. Every synapse in her brain screamed at her to stake Selene. Biting the inside of her cheek, she stood beside Kristoff and tried to calm down.

  “Shit. You did a bad thing, pet.” Lucas gripped Selene’s wrists.

  Selene pouted. “The old queen was only going to hurt our kitten in the end.”

  Startled, Lucas smiled, looking between Red and Selene. “That’s right. No one hurts Red.”

  “Only us. Just like old times!” His sire bobbed her head.

  Scrutinizing the emotions playing over Selene and Lucas’s faces, Red backed away. She held her breath.

  “No!” Lucas said. His clenched expression didn’t reveal if it was to Selene’s statement or Kristoff’s inching presence.

  “Damn it, Lucas, get her in the car.” Kristoff stepped closer.

  Crossing her arms, Red tried to keep her cool. She had no weapons. Her magic felt tapped after creating three orbs in one night, even with Kristoff’s blood buoying her energy. Her eyes narrowed on the tenderness in Lucas’s grip. He might have held Selene’s wrists, but his fingers were loose. Any second, Selene could break away. He thought he was rescuing his sire, but Selene was toying with him.

  “This is idiotic, Lucas.” Kristoff glanced at Red, jaw clenched.

  Voice wistful and eager, Selene bobbed her head. “I could turn her right now. It wouldn’t have to be you. The family could be back together again.”

  Kristoff growled.

  Eyes widening, Red touched her hip, habit moving her hand to the empty space where her hunter’s kit should be. This situation with Selene was spiraling. Lucas talked tough, but he had a vulnerable caretaker side. Every moment with his sire twisted him up.

  “Damn it, Selene. No. I’ve already told you.” Lucas tightened his grip, shaking his head at her, then glanced at Red. His brow furrowed. The side of his jacket drooped from a solid weight. “You need to come with me.”

  Red guessed what was in his pocket but didn’t want to be right. She had wanted to let him be the one to take Selene in and gain face with Cora, but she couldn’t give him another chance to lose his sire. Red stepped closer, fingers twitching at her side. She felt the sparks, but they didn’t ignite.

  “Red,” Kristoff warned.

  “Lucas, you know what you have to do.” Putting a hand on Lucas’s shoulder, eyes on Selene, Red gave him a second chance. Her gut screamed at her that it was a mistake. She wanted to be wrong about him.

  “I’ll handle it,” Lucas insisted, head dipping.

  Selene lunged forward in his grip.

  Red pulled the handheld tranquilizer gun from his pocket and shot Selene in the chest twice at point blank range. The pops echoed in the alley.

  “Butterscotch.” Selene gasped, darts sinking deep into her chest. She fell backward like a stiff board.

  Lucas knelt to catch his sire. Mouth slack, he gazed up at Red.

  “You had a tranq gun the whole time.” Red held it up. Her voice flattened. She tried to listen through the dull buzzing in her ear. The rush of emotions overloaded her system. Red felt her heart tighten as Lucas stared down at Selene. “Time to go. Kristoff, carry her.”

  Lucas glared at Kristoff. “Keep your paws away.”

  Red shot Lucas a warning look as she stepped beside Kristoff. “He’s carrying her.”

  “She doesn’t know anything.” Lucas shook his head, pleading. “Don’t let Cora get ahold of her.”

  “She can’t be on the streets, and we’ve already been loud enough in this alley. I’ll make sure she’ll be at Club Vltava. Watch over her there.” Gritting her teeth, Red slipped her finger on the trigger. She tried not to tense her shoulders and give herself away. She didn’t want to do it, but if he broke Selene free again…

  Lucas nodded. Fight draining from his shoulders. He stood, tenderly holding his sire.

  Kristoff grabbed Selene and hoisted her over his shoulder. Satisfaction radiated from him.

  “Let’s go!” Red lifted her finger off the handheld dart gun’s trigger. She couldn’t look at either man yet as she stepped to the car.

  “You gonna look at me?” Lucas stepped into sync with her.

  “Give me a bit,” Red said as she texted a quick update to the supreme who had called her back multiple times. He was lucky she had hung up on Cora Moon before the dramatics with Selene. “I’m still working.”

  “This the job or jealousy?” Lucas asked, peevishly.

  Red glared at him. Her internal monologue began and ended with ‘how dare he’ mixed with curses in the middle. She resisted yelling at him in front of Kristoff. That would make for an awkward conversation on the ride home. “We’re in an active vampire extraction, so now isn’t the time for a talk about our relationship.”

  Selene resting against him, Kristoff opened the car trunk.

  Pivoting toward his progeny, Lucas snapped, “She doesn’t have to go in the trunk!”

  “The rope is in there,” Red said quietly. His words chilled her anger. Did he really think she was going to rough up his ex for kicks? It was a job to Red; it was personal for Lucas. She might have been jealous, but she wasn’t going to take it out on Selene. Stepping around to the trunk, she handed the rope to Kristoff but looked away at the pity in his eyes. “The last vampire escaped my knots.”

  Nodding, Kristoff stepped away with Selene to restrain her.

  “We can take her to my place.” Lucas put his hand on Red’s shoulder.

  Heel slowly grinding on gravel, Red faced him. “No, we can’t. The office isn’t secure enough. This is deep state vampire shit for the supreme. It’s not a Quinn Investigations case.”

  Lip curling, Lucas furrowed his brow. “Cora has gotten to yo
u. You know there will always be another favor. Being a good girl won’t set you free.”

  His baiting words chilled her. Wetting her lips, Red flared her nostrils as she breathed deep. She knew that. It was the price of being in LA. She had been willing to pay it before because of what she had here. Or what she thought she had. Lucas looked more like a stranger to her now than when they first met. “You don’t have to work for the supreme. I do. And you’re lucky it’s me.”

  Kristoff popped his head out of the car. Selene rested, tied up and belted, in the back seat behind him. “Ready?”

  Red nodded to him before turning back to Lucas. She put her hands in her pockets. The adrenaline of the fight had faded, leaving her shivering in the crop top corset and black jeans. “Club Vltava is neutral ground. She won’t disappear into a bunker under Inglewood.”

  The engine roared to life.

  Lucas’s voice lowered in a plea. “Cora will still torture her like she did Delilah.”

  “Quinn can get through to her,” Red said even though she didn’t know how much she believed the words. If the Dague could be rooted out of SoCal quickly then yes, Cora would be light and love. If not…

  “I can get through to her.” His gray eyes bored into hers. Conflict mixed with loyalty and fear on his face. He might have been wrapped in leather and safety pins like an old school punk, but he was scared to the bone.

  Perversely, she wanted to comfort him. If there was anything that she had learned in the last few days, it was how complicated the bond between sire and progeny could be.

  A nearby car alarm broke the spell.

  Shaking her head, Red opened the passenger side door. He made her forget she was a professional. That could get her killed on a job like this. “We’re going. Follow on your motorcycle.”

  His lip curled as his eyes darted between her and the Mercedes-Benz. “You can’t drive alone with him.”

  “Watch our backs for a tail.” Ignoring the warning, Red got into the car and closed the door without looking back.

  Kristoff glanced at her, his presence as palpable as his touch. He rested his hand on the stick shift. He breathed in to speak.