Vampire Bound: Book Two

by R. A. Steffan

  “What point?” I snapped.

  But Leonides only shook his head. “Not now. I really need to speak to Nigellus first, much as it pains me to say that. And you need to talk this guy down from the ledge, so we can get him out of here without parading around the neighborhood with a magical apparition that can tear people’s throats out.”

  Richard whimpered.

  I made a concerted effort to drag my shit together, and turned to face my ex.

  Somehow, I didn’t think that ‘Hey, buddy, I’ve been trying to reach you so I could let you know our son has been kidnapped from an airplane by faeries,’ was going to do the trick. I cleared my throat.

  “Okay, so... Richard?” I began. “I know this whole thing is crazy, but you need to calm down now, all right?”

  Richard let out an ugly sound that might have been a laugh. It wasn’t really a calm kind of noise.

  “You know, in my disgustingly long life, I can’t ever remember seeing anyone calm down because another person told them to calm down,” Leonides observed. He had his phone out and was scrolling through it, while casting occasional wary glances at the wolf.

  “If you think you can do a better job—” I said sharply.

  He shrugged. “I’m just saying.”

  The wolf plopped its furry, insubstantial butt down on the floor and started licking its shoulder. Richard made another, longer sound that might have been laughing or sobbing. I grasped my composure with both hands and strode past the canine specter, to where my ex was propping himself upright against the sales counter. When I was within arm’s reach, I smacked Richard sharply across the cheek.

  The wolf yipped in outraged surprise, and dissipated in a cloud of wispy light as Richard raised a hand to cradle the side of his face.

  Unlike the time I’d slapped poor Maurice in the Vixen’s Den, I didn’t even feel bad about it afterward.

  The fluorescent light buzzed back to life.

  “So, is the slapping thing a habit of yours I should know about?” Leonides asked, not looking up as he texted rapidly on his phone.

  I glared at him. “It worked, didn’t it? Both times.”

  He gave a little eyebrow shrug of acknowledgement.

  Richard’s face paled as he took in the carnage on his shop floor. He was still cradling the red handprint on his cheek. “What... happened to those guys?”

  “You did, apparently,” Leonides said. He pocketed his phone. “Right. We’re leaving. I’ve got some people coming to take care of this mess, assuming they can get here before the cops do.”

  Once again, my boss gave new meaning to the term, someone to help you bury the bodies.

  “What do you mean, when you say I did this?” Richard asked in a hoarse tone.

  But Leonides was already ushering me toward the broken window with a hand on my lower back. “Walk and talk.”

  He had a point about the wisdom of getting away from here. It was a testament to the state of the neighborhood that neither the broken window, nor the gunshots Richard had mentioned, had set off any alarms or inspired anyone to call the police. But that didn’t mean sirens wouldn’t start converging on the place if we hung around too long.

  I clambered gingerly through the gap in the window, glass crunching under my sneakers. A glance behind me confirmed that Richard was tagging along like an obedient puppy... or a kicked one. The black SUV Leonides had somehow acquired to haul Jace and the rest of us to the airport was parked outside. And... that brought me back to the reason we’d come here in the first place.

  I drew breath to tell Richard what had happened, but Leonides cut me off.

  “Not here,” he said. “Get in, both of you.”

  Richard and I climbed into the second row of seats, and Leonides drove in the direction of the Den. Richard still looked nearly as pale as the unearthly wolf he’d somehow spawned.

  “What happened, Richard?” I asked quietly. “Before we got there, I mean. What do you remember?”

  He leaned his elbows on his knees and buried his face in his hands. “I was in the apartment upstairs when I heard the shop window break.” The words emerged muffled. “I grabbed my gun and ran downstairs, but there were, like, six of them. They started shooting at me, and I dove behind the counter.”

  “And then?” I prompted.

  He ran both hands down his face and looked up. “Dunno. I felt really dizzy and sick for a second. Then these... noises... started coming from the floor. I couldn’t see what was happening, but... there was screaming...”

  “Evidently, your fear manifested as a spectral wolf that ripped your attackers to shreds,” Leonides said from the front seat. “Which, I’ve gotta say, I didn’t even realize was a thing. So... congratulations, I guess?”

  “This is crazy,” Richard said weakly.

  Agreeing with him about the insanity that was our life now didn’t seem productive. Neither did yelling at him, so I clamped my mouth shut and finished the journey in silence. It didn’t take long before we were pulling into the underground parking garage. Leonides parked the Cadillac and turned off the engine.

  “Out,” he said. Once we’d complied, he turned to me. “Okay, you can tell him now. If the wolf pops into existence and looks threatening, just... slap him again, I guess. Or, I dunno, set it on fire or something.”

  It was clear I was not going to be living the ‘burning bed’ thing down anytime soon.

  “Jace is missing,” I said without preamble. “He disappeared off the plane between Colorado and Texas. We think he was taken by that blond guy who showed up when Ivan had us.”

  I braced for fangs and snarling, but no glowing specter appeared. Richard’s back thumped against the door of the SUV. A moment later, he slid down it, landing in an ungraceful sprawl on the concrete.

  “I can’t do this,” he said. “Von... I cannot do this.”

  My fists clenched at my sides. “Yes,” I snapped. “You’ve already made that eminently clear, Richard. So... what? You’d rather just... not know that our son is gone? You want me to deal with this on my own? Because at this point, as far as I’m concerned, you can fuck the hell off if you’re not going to do anything useful!”

  Richard winced, folding in on himself.

  Part of me was distantly aware that I was having yet another a domestic fight in front of a witness. And yes, it bothered me. Mind you, it would have bothered me a lot more if Richard weren’t acting like a useless man-child when I needed him the most. Would we even be in this mess, if he hadn’t decided to take dirty money to fund his latest scheme—and damn the consequences?

  If I hadn’t stumbled into the Den that first night, desperate enough for money that I’d been reduced to selling my body as a paid escort, I wouldn’t have ended up on Teague’s radar. If I hadn’t been on Teague’s radar, he’d’ve had no reason to go after Jace.

  Or would he? Kids were already going missing. Were the two things connected? Or had I merely gotten caught up in Teague’s apparent vendetta against Leonides?

  The vampire in question had retreated a short distance away, once it became apparent that there wasn’t going to be an immediate ghost-wolf feeding frenzy in his parking garage. He returned now, looking between the two of us warily.

  “I’ve spoken to Nigellus,” he said. “He’ll be flying in from Atlantic City sometime tomorrow.”

  “Flying?” I asked tiredly. “Not teleporting? Seems like a waste of his talents.”

  Leonides shrugged. “The day I understand what goes on in a demon’s head is the day I take up silversmithing.”

  Vampire joke. Right.

  I sighed. “So, this guy—this demon—is supposed to know someone who can help me with the magic... thing?”

  “Someone who can help both of you. Yes.”

  At that, Richard jerked his spine straight. “What? Oh, no. I’m not getting dragged any further into this shit. Vonnie, you... you need to call the police about Jace. Or... the FBI. Someone official! The rest of this—it’s just insane!”<
br />
  “He disappeared off a commercial airliner cruising at thirty thousand feet, Richard!” I shouted, my temper snapping. “What the hell do you expect the police or the FBI to do with that?”

  “I don’t know!” Richard yelled back. He clawed his way upright against the side of the Cadillac. “I just know it’s better than you trying to play Scooby-Doo with a bunch of... of... freaks!”

  My anger turned cold. “Then get out. I did my duty. I told you what’s happening. If you’re not going to help, go play with your Russian mafia loan shark instead. At least you can apparently rip his throat out with a magic attack dog now.”

  Richard’s face went gray again. “I told you. That’s bullshit, and I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Go,” I said, my tone icy.

  He went, disappearing toward the street entrance to catch a bus, or get an Uber, or whatever the hell. At this point, I couldn’t bring myself to care.

  “Huh. That certainly went well,” Leonides said, deadpan.

  Several sharply worded replies flitted through my head, but I swallowed them.

  “I really don’t think I can take much more tonight,” I said instead. Despite my best efforts, there was a telltale quaver in my voice.

  His face softened for a moment before his customary cool mask slid into place. “Yeah... okay. Go up to the penthouse and get some sleep, Vonnie. I have some things I need to do that will keep me out until tomorrow morning.”

  I looked at him blankly, exhaustion sliding over me in a wave. “I just wrecked one of your fancy apartments a few hours ago, and now you’re sending me to your penthouse?”

  “Yes. I am,” he said. “If you’re worried about it, there’s a gas fire pit on the rooftop with some patio furniture around it. Grab some blankets from the spare bedroom, and it shouldn’t be too bad. Not much damage you can do out there, right?”

  I shook my head in bewilderment. “I don’t understand you,” I told him, in the understatement of the century.”

  “The feeling’s mutual,” he said. “Why the hell didn’t you run when you had the chance?”

  “Why did you offer me a job?” I shot back.

  “Because you needed it,” he replied evenly. “But I’m sorry you ended up getting sucked into... whatever this is.”

  I didn’t know what to say to that, so I said nothing.

  “Come on,” he said. “I’ll let you in and give you the door codes. You need to sleep.”

  THREE

  TO MY SURPRISE, I did manage to sleep for a few hours. The fire pit toasted my front, as I lay wrapped in blankets on a lounge chair on the rooftop patio. A gentle breeze ruffled my hair, and the sky above me was brilliant blue when the sun creeping over the concrete wall of the rooftop patio finally woke me.

  It was the first time I’d been out here, and I’d been too exhausted and distracted last night to really take in the casual demonstration of wealth. Hot tub... swim spa... tasteful potted plants dotted at regular intervals along the inside of the wall. When I stood up, clutching the blankets around myself against the morning chill, I could see St. Louis laid out below me like a painting.

  Distance muted all the little imperfections, turning a city in decline into a mellow, dawn-lit vista. If only the clear morning skies and the hint of spring’s promise on the breeze could do the same for my life.

  No such luck, unfortunately.

  All of my worries and fears came crashing back in a landslide, threatening to bury me. With a sigh, I stretched the aches and creakiness from my joints and headed inside, trying not to leave finger smudges on the spotless sliding glass door.

  Indoors, the smell of cooking eggs wafted through the apartment. At the first whiff, my stomach opened up like a bottomless pit. After tossing my borrowed blankets onto the bed in the guest room, I followed the aroma to the kitchen, where Leonides stood in shirtsleeves at the stove, his back to me as he worked.

  “Have a seat,” he said. “I was just about to wake you. Zorah called—they’ve arrived in Denver and plan on poking around the airport today.”

  I plopped down on a barstool without grace, watching as he flipped something in a skillet with the smooth flick of a wrist.

  “Where does a vampire learn to cook?” I asked. “No... scratch that. Why does a vampire learn to cook?”

  He didn’t turn around. “I wasn’t always a vampire. In fact, out of the nearly hundred years I’ve spent stumbling around this planet, I’ve only been a vampire for about eight months.”

  I digested that. “How did it happen, anyway?”

  He was silent for a beat before answering. “You’ve already met the asshole who turned me. I imagine he thought he was doing me a favor.”

  “Rans, you mean?” I asked. “That’s not a ‘how,’ it’s a ‘who.’ I’m guessing he didn’t just wake up one day and decide he needed a new vampire buddy.”

  Leonides slid the fragrant frittata onto a plate and turned off the stovetop. He placed it in front of me, then turned to retrieve silverware and a napkin.

  “I was dying,” he said. “The demon I sold my soul to had decided to collect on the deal. Rans thought he could get around the fine print of the contract by turning me.”

  I stared at him, fascinated. “And did he? Get around it?”

  Leonides shrugged. “Not exactly. But... I’m still here, and the demon—for now, at least—isn’t.”

  Drawing my gaze back to the plate, I picked up a fork and used it to separate a bite-sized piece from the edge of the Italian omelet. “Sounds more like Rans didn’t want to lose you,” I observed.

  “Maybe,” he said. “Pure selfishness on his part, if so.”

  I glanced up at him. “I bet Zorah didn’t, either. She adores you.”

  He turned away, avoiding my words in favor of fussing around the kitchen, putting the skillet and cooking utensils in the sink to be washed.

  “Did you sleep?” he asked, changing the subject abruptly.

  “Yeah,” I said. “And now I feel ridiculously guilty for not staying awake all night worrying about my kid.”

  “Would that have helped him?” he shot back.

  “Of course not,” I replied truthfully. “But I feel like it’s written into the ‘mom code of conduct’ somewhere, regardless. Though in my defense, I’m doing double worrying right now to make up for it. Did Zorah say anything else when you talked to her?”

  “Sorry, no,” Leonides said. “Just that they were about to start nosing around on the Colorado end.”

  I nodded, letting the silence stretch for a beat.

  “I’m sorry you were stuck watching another round of my co-parenting dumpster fire last night,” I told him, because it seemed like the sort of thing a person should apologize for.

  He made a noncommittal humming noise.

  My stomach made its complaint of hunger known again, and I tucked into the frittata. It was delicious—the tender egg golden brown at the edges, stuffed with morsels of mushroom and asparagus.

  “I paid a visit to Ivan Reznikov last night,” Leonides said, when I was roughly halfway done with my meal.

  I stopped chewing and swallowed abruptly, nearly choking. “Excuse me?”

  The surname was unfamiliar, but there was little question who he must be talking about.

  “Your Russian mafia gadfly,” he confirmed. “Interesting trivia—he wears polka dot pajamas to bed. More interesting trivia—he no longer retains any memory of you, Richard, your son, the money Richard owes him, or the fact that you might have been involved with the death of his underlings.”

  I gaped at him like a landed fish.

  “There’s too much other shit going on right now,” he continued. “And frankly, I was getting sick of watching that particular farce play out. Especially after the part where we found you writhing on the ground with your kneecaps blown out.”

  A sudden wave of dizziness washed over me, and I clutched the edge of the counter with the hand not holding a forkful of eggs. My mout
h was still open, because apparently, at age thirty, I’d mysteriously lost the capacity to speak English.

  Or, y’know, any other language.

  “But... I...” I croaked eventually. “You... you can’t just...”

  His lips thinned. “Oh, I can. And I did.”

  I tried to shift things around in my mind to reflect the idea that I no longer owed money to the mob. With everything else going on—Jace missing, and the Fae, and demons, and magic I didn’t know how to control—it was all too much. Too big, like trying to rearrange bulky furniture inside a crowded bedroom.

  “Ivan’s... not after me anymore?” I asked tentatively, only to correct myself. “Not after us anymore?”

  “Ivan has no idea you even exist,” Leonides said.

  An odd, choking noise shook free of my chest. I put the forkful of eggs down on the plate very carefully.

  “Did you find out anything about his connection with Teague while you were there?” I managed.

  He raised an approving eyebrow. “That was, in fact, the other reason I wanted a word with the guy. But, no—he has no memory of any dealings with the Fae. Total dead end on that front.”

  I licked my lips and cleared my throat to ensure my voice would behave. “Do you realize how terrifying it is to think that a person’s mind can be altered at any time without their knowledge?”

  His gaze dipped pointedly to my chest, and the necklace hanging there. “Not your mind, though. Not while you’re wearing your pendant, anyway. Which brings us to the next item on the agenda.”

  My jaw tightened. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s one item on the agenda... and one item only. Jace.”

  “I get that, Vonnie,” he said. “I really do. But it doesn’t change the fact that everything which can reasonably be done, is being done right now. And, no offense, but none of it involves you. Rans and Zorah are doing the legwork. I’m working on something at this end to draw Teague out. And in the meantime, you’re blowing out doors and setting shit on fire.”

  That stung. It really did. And it did absolutely nothing to quiet the raging maternal beast inside me insisting that I need to act... to rip the world apart until my son was back safe and sound in my arms.