Midnight Labyrinth

by Elizabeth Hunter

  She floated to the ground, still staying in the shadows, and handed him the books. “There. Don’t move my stuff again.”

  “Then don’t put it where I could do myself permanent bodily injury, Tiny. Not all of us can regrow body parts if we lose them.”

  She cocked her head and looked at him. “That is a very slow and painful process, even for vampires.”

  “And since I’m human, not an option for me. Please don’t put your swords in places that will gouge out my eyes.”

  “Fine.” She bent down and picked up a single book. “Here.”

  He took the book and ignored the dozen on the ground. “Thanks.”

  Tenzin smiled, all ire forgotten. “You’re welcome.”

  Then Tenzin flew back up to her loft and disappeared.

  Ben looked at all the books on the floor. “Do you have any more up there?”

  “Yes. Do you want me to—”

  “Don’t toss them down.” He took a deep breath. “Hand them down please. After I put these away.” He picked up two more books. “Any calls or emails while I was out?”

  “No calls.”

  “But did you check your email?”

  “No.” She sighed. “I wish you’d never made me an email account. It’s not the same as letters.”

  “I know that, Tenzin, but it’s how the modern world communicates. And if you don’t check it every day, your inbox will take over the world.”

  “Is that why you take your phone to the toilet?”

  “Yes,” he said. “Now check your messages.”

  Tenzin flew down and picked up a magazine from the coffee table. “Cara, check my email.”

  A polite, artificial voice filled the living area. “Checking electronic messages for Tenzin.” There was a soft hum before Cara said, “You have six new messages.”

  “Read subject lines.”

  She complained about it, but Ben was continually amazed by how quick Tenzin was with technology. She’d had limited access to the electronic revolution until an immortal tech company in Ireland came out with the Nocht voice-recognition program. Vampire touch wreaked havoc on any electronic gadget because of their amnis, the electrical current that ran under their skin and connected them to their elemental ability.

  Wind and water vampires had bad reactions to electronics. Earth vampires could handle some gadgets a little better than others. Rare fire vampires like his uncle could short out the computer in a modern car just by sitting in the front seat.

  No computers. No mobile phones. No iPods or tablets or new appliances.

  But then came Nocht.

  “Reading subject lines,” Cara said. “From Beatrice De Novo. ‘I need a recipe, don’t ignore me.’”

  “Delete,” Tenzin said.

  “You should at least write her back,” Ben said.

  “I don’t cook from recipes, so that would be useless.” Tenzin turned a page. “Next message.”

  Cara read, “From Blumenthal Blades. ‘Desirable saber for your Eastern European collection.’”

  “Save,” Tenzin said. “That sounds promising.”

  Ben shelved three more books. “Because you definitely need more swords.”

  “I always need more swords.”

  “From Viva Industries,” Cara read. “‘All-natural male enhancement from Asia.’”

  Tenzin laughed. “That’s what he said.”

  It took Ben a second to realize Tenzin had actually made a joke, then he grimaced. “Delete!”

  “I do not recognize voice signature for the current account,” Cara said. “Shall I log out Tenzin?”

  “No,” Tenzin said. “Delete ‘All-natural male enhancement,’ Cara. Next message.”

  “From Jonathan Rothwell. ‘Confirming details for upcoming travel.’”

  “Save,” Tenzin said quickly, glancing at Ben. “I’ll read that later.”

  He kept his eyes on his bookshelves. “You going to Shanghai?”

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Ben tried not to react. Jonathan Rothwell was the personal secretary for Cheng, an honest-to-goodness vampire pirate who ruled Shanghai. He was also Tenzin’s ex… something. Former lover? Current lover? Ben had met Cheng on the very first job he and Tenzin had done together four years before, but he still didn’t have an answer.

  It’s none of your business. Ben said, “We don’t have anything on the schedule, so whatever you want to do.”

  Ben decided to reorganize the art section of his bookshelves. He’d had the hardbacks arranged by color, but Tenzin had screwed it all up. He might as well reorganize according to style and period.

  Tenzin called, “Cara, next message.”

  “From René DuPont. ‘Think about it.’”

  Ben’s head popped up and his eyes went wide. “What?”

  “Cara,” Tenzin called, “move that one to the folder labeled René.”

  “You have a folder labeled René?” Ben asked. “A folder?”

  Tenzin shrugged. “Know your enemies and know yourself.”

  “He tried to kill me last summer in Scotland. Several times.”

  Tenzin squinted. “Did he really try to kill you though? I mean, you did steal a sword from him,” she pointed out. “A really valuable, legendary one.”

  “One,” Ben said, “I didn’t steal it from him. He stole it from me after I found it. I just took it back. And two, he wanted that old vampire to drain me, so yes he tried to kill me.”

  “Your points are valid.” She flipped through the magazine.

  “Thank you. What does he want?”

  “I don’t know. Do you want his email address?” Tenzin looked up. “He often sends me funny jokes. You might find them amusing.”

  Ben blinked. “René DuPont, thief for hire and the vampire who tried to kill your partner, sends you spam emails and you don’t mind?”

  “You know, I don’t think he was serious about killing you,” Tenzin said. “That’s just his sense of humor.”

  Ben was half-tempted to ask her to forward René’s “funny jokes” just to find out what a sociopathic immortal thief found funny.

  Then he remembered he lived with Tenzin.

  René DuPont was part of a clan his uncle had strong ties with, so Ben didn’t want to pick a fight unless he had no other choice. He and Tenzin had come off their last confrontation with René looking like the winners and the reasonable party.

  Ben smiled. René probably loathed that as much as he loathed Ben.

  Or as much as he wanted Tenzin. René hadn’t been shy about expressing his admiration in that direction.

  “You know what?” he said. “Never mind. Seeing that name in my inbox would just make my head explode. Tell me if you think he’s going to be in the US or if our paths are going to cross. That’s all I ask.”

  “Okay. Cara, next message!” Tenzin yelled.

  “From Novia O’Brien. Copied to Ben Vecchio. ‘Monthly meeting at Bat and Barrel?’”

  Ben looked up. “Better read the whole thing. She’s been trying to pay off that favor for six months. She and Cormac are getting annoyed.”

  “I don’t care,” Tenzin said. She dropped the magazine and flew back up to her loft. “It was a pair of opera glasses, but it wasn’t an easy retrieval. I’m not willing to waste a favor so they can mark it off their ledger. Let them be annoyed. Cara, read message.”

  Cara read, “Good evening. Would love to meet and touch base with the two of you when you have a free night. Gavin’s new pub is getting good buzz. Saturday night at eleven work for you two?’”

  Ben waited for Tenzin to look at him. “We need to throw them a bone.”

  “I don’t understand the idiom,” Tenzin said. She turned her eyes and stared at the opposite wall, swinging one leg back and forth on the edge of her room.

  “Yes, you do,” Ben said. “Don’t play dumb. Throw them a bone. Let them pay us back.”

  She shrugged. “I don’t need anything from them right now.”

 
; “It was two days’ work at the most—”

  “And I refused to let them pay us for that reason,” she said.

  “The O’Briens are a huge clan,” Ben said. “They’re independent, and they don’t like owing people.”

  She smiled. “Well, they owe us now.”

  “I know you live for racking up favors,” Ben said, “but we live here at their pleasure.”

  Tenzin laughed.

  The vampires in charge of the great city of New York were the O’Briens, a clan of earth vampires who’d taken over the city in a violent coup and held it for a century through numbers, wise bribery, and clever manipulation.

  Ben and Tenzin had moved to New York with the understanding that Tenzin—a highly powerful and connected vampire—would demonstrate no ambition that would challenge the current vampires in charge. She would also use her influence and connections in Asia to increase foreign trade.

  “All I’m saying,” Ben said, “is that unless you want cause an intercity incident, piss off a powerful earth vampire clan, kill a bunch of people, and take control of the city—which obviously you could do if you really wanted to—we should probably just meet with Novia and let her do something nice for us so her sire feels better.”

  Tenzin dropped from her room and hung upside down, her face level with Ben’s. Talking to her like that was always disorienting.

  That was, of course, why she did it.

  “Is there something you need?” Ben asked.

  “I’m hungry.”

  “Doubtful.” He’d seen her drink a tall glass of blood three days ago while she was binge-watching a British reality show. At Tenzin’s age, she didn’t need much blood to survive.

  Nevertheless, she glanced down at his neck and licked her lower lip.

  “Don’t piss me off, Tenzin.” That was not their agreement. They were partners. He wasn’t food.

  “Novia said she wants to meet at Gavin’s? Why Gavin’s? There are too many humans there.”

  And Tenzin couldn’t be around humans too often. Unlike most vampires, her fangs never retracted, which could lead to some awkward staring in the wrong places.

  “Gavin pays the extra tribute to have neutral pubs in every city,” Ben said quietly. “Novia is leveling the playing field, making the effort to accommodate your status. We should meet her.”

  Tenzin narrowed her eyes. “You meet her first. Tonight.”

  “Fine.” Massaging egos was all part of the vampire package.

  Tenzin flew back to her room and Ben continued organizing his books, mentally composing the email he’d send to Novia.

  Ben Vecchio might have been born in the Bowery to good-for-nothing human parents, but he’d been raised and mentored from the age of twelve by his adoptive uncle, a fire vampire of fierce reputation and a deep desire to be left alone. Ben knew more about immortal politics than most vampires. Their world operated on a carefully balanced network of allegiances, loyalties, family ties, and favors. It was feudal, but it worked.

  Most of the time.

  Tenzin watched him as he slept that afternoon.

  Shining boy.

  The lines around Ben’s mouth and eyes had deepened. Not much. But he’d grown from the young man she had known and into the man he would become.

  Even so, he was her shining boy, eager to fix problems, fight battles, and seek treasure. He’d dragged her to this metal city and made her a nest in the sky, quick to reassure her of his plans.

  It will be brilliant. It will be fun. We’ll get rich. Well, I’ll get rich and you’ll get richer.

  Tenzin smiled.

  Ben would go to the meeting with the young vampire and charm her into a solution both Tenzin and the New York hierarchy could live with. He’d negotiate with smiles and debate with quips. Ben was both her partner and her better half. He was one of the few humans who’d ever understood her, and possibly the only one who’d never feared her. Even her own sire feared her.

  Not Ben.

  He picked and poked at her as a hobby. He antagonized her and did it with a smile. She pushed him just far enough to drive him crazy. Why?

  It was fun.

  Their partnership was good. He was finding his way and meeting his people. Making connections and learning the ways of their world. He had time as long as she was with him. As long as she watched. His human experience would only add to the being he would become.

  Of course, he did have that white knight tendency.

  She’d have to fix that.

  White knights had a tendency to get their armor bloody, and that could not happen.

  Not until it was time.

  2

  The Bat and the Barrel, newest whiskey pub in the Bowery, was the kind of place where privacy was treasured, quiet conversations could still exist, and everyone kept their eyes to themselves as they sipped some of the finest cocktails available in Lower Manhattan. It was populated by the rich, the ambitious, and the immortal.

  Carefully curated blood donors of all ages, sexes, and ethnicities drifted among the tables, serving drinks. Though Gavin Wallace’s pubs were open to humans, only the vampire clients and the humans who worked for them knew that the servers were available to sample. A discreet reservation and the human who served your martini could also be your dinner.

  If that was your thing.

  Ben watched as Novia O’Brien, favored daughter of Cormac O’Brien, brushed a thumb over the cheek of the handsome server she’d fed from in a private room. The server’s smile was easy, and Ben had a feeling the young man was a frequent partner. Novia gave him a little wave as she walked into the main room.

  She was attractive, as most vampires were. Her skin was the color of sunbaked clay, her hair a riot of red-tipped corkscrews. Her bloodlines were Caribbean, but her loyalty was to the Irish vampire who’d sired her. She was young, around Ben’s age when she’d turned, and looked to be in her early twenties. In reality, she was probably around thirty or forty. Still young for a vampire, but rising quickly in the hierarchy because of her drive and connections.

  “Hey!” he said as she sat. “Long time, no see. How’s it going?”

  “Very well. How are things in California? Have you talked to your aunt and uncle lately?”

  Ben had been raised mainly on the West Coast, where his aunt and uncle lived in wary alliance with the vampire lord of Los Angeles. Novia could have been fishing for information, but Ben’s gut told him she was just treating him like a fellow immortal and asking after his clan.

  “Everyone’s doing great. It’s hot this summer. Really hot. Everyone’s asking how I survive without a pool.”

  “I wish.” Novia plucked at the green silk blouse that matched her stunning eyes. “I’m relieved I don’t have to walk the city during daytime. I miss the sun occasionally, but not the heat.”

  “And yet even with this summer, tourists are still pouring in.”

  New York wasn’t just an international city for humans. It was a vampire mecca as well. The city that never slept was very attractive to vampires who could only operate at night. The business of immortal life had to be accomplished between dusk and dawn for vampires, which wasn’t as easy as it might seem.

  Tenzin was so old she no longer had to sleep, but she was far from normal. And even Tenzin was limited by daylight.

  Novia sipped a glass of red wine. “How’s your partner? I haven’t heard anything that indicates mayhem lately.”

  “Then I must be doing my job right.” It was well known that Tenzin was the muscle and connection in their operation and Ben was the social animal. He tasted his scotch and soda. It was excellent, but he wouldn’t expect anything less from one of Gavin’s pubs. “Tenzin is doing well. Sends her apologies for not making the meeting.”

  “She didn’t want to see me?”

  “She was busy tonight,” he said. “Maybe we can set up a meeting for later this week. How’s Cormac?”

  “Cranky,” she said. “But that’s normal for my sire.”

&nbs
p; “Anything we can help with?”

  “No, it’s family.”

  Ben raised his eyebrows in question, and Novia rolled her eyes.

  “It’s not really a secret,” she said. “Ennis is being… Ennis.”

  The O’Briens were a clan. And if Cormac was the levelheaded and mostly legal leader of it, Ennis was the underhanded little brother who liked others to clean up his messes. Ben understood the dynamic between the two, but he chose to keep out of it.

  “So your dad didn’t want to come for a drink?”

  “He was busy tonight,” Novia said. “Maybe we can set up a meeting for later this week.”

  Ben tapped the edge of his glass and smiled. “Touché.”

  “I’m tired of hearing him complain about this,” Novia said. “Please, Ben. You’ll be doing me a favor if you can think of something. She refused the cash we sent. Twice.”

  “We did offer to comp you the occasional job for your cooperation and generous welcome to Manhattan.”

  “And we agreed to no comps, but only the interclan rate for services,” Novia said. “You know why my dad and uncles are cautious about accepting favors. Free work is a favor.”

  And favors in the vampire world were subtle power plays. Who was owed and for what could quickly become a bargaining chip.

  Ben mulled over the problem as he finished his drink. “What if…”

  Novia raised her eyebrows.

  “What if we consider the Rochester job a gift from Tenzin? I was barely involved. It could be a gift, not a favor?”

  Novia nodded slowly. “A gift to the new landlord, so to speak?”

  “Exactly.”

  “So if it’s a gift… Cormac could offer a gift in return?”

  “Tenzin would never refuse a gift from an ally. She’s too old-fashioned. Would that satisfy your sire?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “I believe so. We may need some guidance on what would be acceptable.”

  “There’s a shop in New Orleans that caters to discreet collectors. I’ll forward you the number.” Ben was glad he’d filed away the name of the shop who had emailed Tenzin about the new saber.

  Face saved on both fronts.

  Favor negated.

  Balance restored.

  And a beautiful woman on the other side of the table.