Autumn's Bane: A Wild Hunt Novel, Book 13

by Yasmine Galenorn

  Angel made sure I made it down the stairs without problem. I wasn’t as woozy or as in as much pain as I had been during the morning, but I was still leery. The stitches pulled, but I could tell the most immediate pain of the wound was starting to die down and Yutani was right, the corset helped shore me up.

  “I think I’m on the mend. Thank gods I heal quickly.” I sat down at the kitchen table to wait. “Got any cookies?”

  “We’re out, but I made scones. You want one?” She moved toward the fridge.

  I shook my head. “No, I wanted something lighter. A few chips, maybe?”

  She brought over a bag of Fritos and set them on the table, sitting down beside me. “I wish I healed up like you do. I’m black and blue from the gym. My trainer is teaching me how to street fight—you know, down and dirty. It goes against my nature, but I think, as I take on more responsibility with the Wild Hunt, I need to get over it.”

  I nodded. “I have a feeling that eventually Herne wants to move you into more of an investigative position, while letting Rafé take over your job. While he has the advantage of strength, you have the advantage of your empathic abilities, and coupling that with the magic you’re learning, you’ll be a lot of help.”

  “I never believed I’d be saying this, because the thought scared me shitless last year, but I think I’m going to enjoy that. I don’t like facing down ghosts or other critters but I have to admit, it’s nice feeling like I can contribute more than just typing up reports or making appointments.” She popped a handful of chips into her mouth. “Yum, fat and salt. I’m PMSing horribly.”

  “I don’t envy you that.” Among the side effects of the herbal birth control that Ferosyn had given me was the fact that my periods were much lighter and lasted only a couple days. The herbal concoction I took once a month also reduced PMS to where it was almost nonexistent. I wondered if it would work for Angel. She couldn’t take the pill due to nasty side effects, so she had to rely on other methods with Rafé. “What if I ask Ferosyn if the Monthly-Eeze that he gives me would work for you?”

  “Hey, if it won’t hurt, I’m willing to try it.” She glanced out the window. “I think Herne’s here.”

  “Nine-fifteen, right on the dot. That will give us time to get downtown, park, and meet Eldris. I wish to hell that I could take something to protect me against vampire glamour. I hate being attracted to someone whom…I’m not attracted to, if you know what I mean. It feels all date-rapey, to be honest. And I’m sure the vampires make full use of that with people they’re attracted to.”

  “That’s a question I wondered about. If they use their glamour to lure someone in, is that considered rape under the law?” Angel asked.

  “I think one of the women’s rights groups is spearheading a proposed law about just that. Right now, it’s only if they go for blood. The United Coalition still leans heavily in favor of men, but I know several groups are working to change that too.” I stood as the doorbell rang. “Okay, I’m off. Don’t wait up. I don’t know how late we’ll be.” As I headed for the door, Angel followed. She saw me off, and then shut the door behind her.

  Herne kissed me, then looked me up and down. “That’s a good look on you. I like the leather corset,” he said, his eyes shining.

  I could tell he was turned on, and I grinned. “You want me to wear it more often?”

  “Only if it’s comfortable,” he said, but the gleam in his eye said otherwise. He opened the door for me and I slid into his SUV. Yutani was sitting in the back seat, staring at his tablet. Both of them were wearing black leather jackets, dark jeans, and no-nonsense button-down shirts with ties.

  I pointed to Yutani’s tie. “Going for formal, are we?”

  “Yeah. The regent makes Eldris look like a schoolboy. Unfortunately, from what I’ve been able to read about Dormant Reins, he’s a hard nut to crack. And he prefers dealing with men over women.”

  Frowning, I shrugged. “Par for the course. I assume he’ll have bodyguards there?”

  “No doubt. And possibly, his wife.”

  As Herne turned on the ignition, Yutani brought up a picture. “Here she is.” He handed the tablet over the back seat to me.

  I glanced at the image. Beneath the photo was a caption that read: emelia reins, wife of dormant reins. The woman in the picture was striking. Her glamour came through the photo loud and clear. She wasn’t what I would call classically beautiful. If anything, she was more along the lines of what they used to call a “handsome woman” rather than pretty. Tall, with a smooth retro-flapper haircut that would now be called a euro bob cut, her hair was smooth and black and precisely razored so every strand seemed to be in place. Her eyes were wide and eyeliner made them wider, and her bowed lips were colored with a matte black lipstick. She wasn’t curvy, but instead looked more athletic. She was wearing a long dress, red and black with a sequined diamond pattern.

  “She reminds me of the ‘it’ girl from the old glamour girls of the early cinema days.” I handed the tablet back to Yutani. “She’s a vampire too, I gather?”

  He nodded. “No vampire that I know of would even think of marrying a living woman. Vampires are fairly strict about interacting with their own kind. It’s both cultural as well as practical. You can have human concubines, but wives? Vampire only. And they have both written rules and a host of unwritten ones that go with every aspect of belonging to the Vampire Nation. Woe to those who decide to disregard them.”

  “Charlie would never make it up the ladder, would he?” I asked. Even though he was far more sophisticated now than when we had first met him, Charlie didn’t have the heart to live within the confines of the Vampire Nation and we all knew it. Most of all, Charlie knew it.

  “No, he wouldn’t. We’ve talked about that a few times,” Herne said. “He recognizes that he may have to harden himself a little to interact with the VN, but he realizes that he’s just not cut out for the life style. It would be far worse if he wasn’t part of the Wild Hunt. He belongs with us. Without us, he’d be a rogue, on his own, and that’s never good when you’re a vampire. Too easy to slip into madness as the centuries go by.”

  I thought about Charlie, and how he’d been so geeky and lost when we first met him. In the space of a year, he had turned his life around and he seemed truly happy.

  We arrived near the entrance of the Catacombs that was closest to Wager Chance’s office. Raven had told us about it. As we stepped out of the car, Herne set the alarm on the vehicle. It would take a picture of anybody trying to break into the car, as well as sound an alarm.

  We entered the Viaduct Market—years ago it had been called the “Pike Place Market”—and headed through the throng of evening shoppers. The market was open until midnight most nights, but we were headed toward one shop in particular. An art studio that catered to nobody. There were always a few students in there, but Raven had told us they were shills, fronts so that the studio seemed on the up-and-up.

  Herne led us up to the woman behind the counter, who glanced up from her magazine with a bored expression, smiling a fake smile.

  “Yes? May I help you?”

  Herne leaned on the counter. “Hi, Vivian. I’m Raven’s friend, and I run the Wild Hunt Agency. Did she call?”

  Vivian dropped the smile and stood. Even from across the counter I could feel the magic tingling around her. She nodded and pulled back the curtains that were covering the doorframe behind her.

  “Take the elevator and press S2, for ‘Sub-Level 2.’ If you’re not back before midnight, you’ll have to use another exit.” She held up her hand before we swung around the counter. “Raven asked me to give you these. I trust her. Don’t make me regret that trust.” She handed over three keycards with the name “Art Shack” stenciled on them. “Next time, just show these to me and you can go through without a problem. But I need your names so I can log them in.”

  “Ember Kearney,” I said, and she took my picture with a digital camera, then typed in my name next to the photo and the n
umber of my corresponding badge on her computer. Herne and Yutani followed suit before we headed through the curtains.

  We found ourselves in a small alcove with a door to the left, and an elevator straight ahead. Herne punched the button and the elevator doors opened. He tapped the S2 button and the car began to move.

  A moment later we came through the doors and found ourselves facing a sign on the wall that read s2-sector 6. A sign to the left read s2-sector 5, with an arrow pointing left. A sign to the right read s2-sector 7, with an arrow pointing right. We turned to the left.

  Without the signs, we would have gotten lost within minutes. The Catacombs stretched out, a vast labyrinth below Seattle, and they interwove and interconnected in dizzying loops.

  Sub-Level 2 was oriented toward tourism. We passed a branch of the Vampire Nation Worldwide Financial Institution, or VN Worldwide for short. There were restaurants geared toward tourists, given vampires didn’t need to eat food, though they could if they wanted to, and souvenir shops, along with clothing boutiques and shops of that sort. We passed through the wide corridors, skirting groups of humans, Fae, and vampires alike. This level of the Catacombs was relatively tame. It wasn’t till you descended farther into the labyrinth that the danger for outsiders grew.

  We received a number of looks, but nobody approached us as we neared shop 223—Wager Chance’s place of business. As Herne opened the door, standing back to let me enter first, I felt a sense of relief. I hadn’t realized that the Catacombs made me feel that tense, but apparently they did.

  The walls of Wager’s shop were painted in a pale cream and muted sage. There were three rooms to the suite, and we found ourselves in the reception room. A bell on the desk instructed clients to ring it when they entered. Herne did so, and one of the other doors immediately opened.

  Wager Chance stepped out. He was around five-eight, with hair as black as mine, and eyes as green as mine, but his skin was a rich golden hue, and he was wearing a pair of jeans, a sportscoat, and a lightweight sweater beneath the coat. Wager was half Dark Fae and half magic-born, and like me, he was considered a tralaeth.

  “Herne, Ember, Yutani, welcome to my humble shop.” He looked relieved to see us. “Eldris is waiting for you.”

  I frowned, starting to roll my eyes, but Herne squeezed my elbow and I plastered a smile on my face. “Hey, Wager. Thank you.”

  “You can use my office. I’ll just wait out here.” He seemed more than eager to avoid joining our discussion.

  We filed into his office, and sure enough, there was Eldris. He looked every inch as handsome as he had the last time we had met. Long blond hair flowed down his shoulders, his blue eyes so sharp that it felt like they could look right through you, and his lips were full, showing just the tips of his fangs. He had a trim but athletic body, and he wore the same outfit I had remembered: leather pants, no shirt, a tangle of gold chains around his neck, and a salacious grin on top of everything.

  “Ember, you’re looking lovely,” he said, making it sound as dirty as anyone possibly could. He arched his eyebrows and grinned.

  As he held out his hand to me, totally ignoring Herne and Yutani, my stomach lurched as his glamour hit me full force. I forced myself to stand still—I wanted to squirm—and accepted his handshake, pulling my hand back as quickly as I could without being rude. He held my gaze for a moment, then turned to Herne.

  “So, you are the illustrious Herne I’ve read so much about?” Again, he reached out, though this time, I noticed his handshake looked firm and professional. Damn him, he really was trying to make me as uncomfortable as possible.

  “Eldris, thank you for meeting with us.” Herne’s voice took on a hard edge, and I knew he was responding to what he saw Eldris doing to me. “You know Yutani?”

  “Yes, we’ve met. This time, you’re not holding Ember’s leash, are you?” Eldris said, sliding his gaze back to me. “I notice a piece of jewelry I didn’t see before,” he added, pointing to my finger. “Who’s the lucky man…or woman?”

  Eldris knew perfectly well that I was Herne’s girlfriend, but he was still pushing the boundaries.

  “You know perfectly well that Herne and I are together. And yes, Herne’s my fiancé.”

  “Congratulations,” he said, laughing. “Well, then, you’re here to see Dormant Reins. I’ll take you to meet with him in a moment. First, I must examine you all to make certain you are carrying no weapons, no silver.”

  We agreed, and he subjected us to a pat down, though Herne glowered the entire time Eldris had his hands on me.

  Then, when Eldris stood back, suddenly the lecher was gone and he was all business.

  “The do-nots, first. Do not move quickly around the regent. Do not address him as anything but ‘Regent Reins.’ Do not speak first—wait for him to speak. Do not threaten him. And an extra piece of advice that I’ll throw in free, and you would do well to heed my words—even you, Lord of the Hunt,” Eldris said.

  “And what would that be?” Herne asked.

  “Be cautious asking favors of the regent. There’s always a price, and usually a steep one, and once a bargain is struck, it’s expected that you will fulfill your part.” Eldris looked at me. “Also, as much as I enjoy toying with you, Ember, for me it’s a game. But the regent entertains little regard for women. I advise you to let Herne handle the details of negotiation. The only woman the regent listens to is his wife, and the Queen.”

  He stood, leading us to the door. We passed into the waiting room, where Eldris nodded to Wager as we left the office. I gave Wager a little wave. With a look of relief on his face, he shut the door behind us as we left.

  “Are you taking us to the regent’s office?” I asked as we followed Eldris down the hallway. We were heading for an elevator, and as we entered the car, he pressed the button marked S4.

  “No. I’m taking you to a conference room. No one ever enters the regent’s private offices unless they are part of the Vampire Nation.” Eldris glanced around Herne, who had placed himself between the vampire and me. “Ember, I know you’re a strong-willed woman, but let me give you some advice, and I mean this in all sincerity: Do not, under any circumstances, correct the regent. He has a short temper and very little time for those who offer unrequested advice.”

  I glanced at Herne. “I’ll let you speak. Why did you insist I come, when you knew the regent doesn’t care for women?” I asked Eldris.

  He smirked. “I enjoy your company?”

  Herne gave him a steely gaze.

  Eldris cleared his throat. “All right, then. No jokes. The regent may not care for women but he needs to know that you speak for the Wild Hunt. He needs to know that if it’s necessary, you can command authority for your agency.”

  He fell silent as the elevator doors opened and he led us out. We were on sub-level 4, at sector eight. He turned to the right, leading us toward sector nine.

  The fourth floor had a different feel. There were fewer shops here that catered to the living, more clubs and bars, few restaurants. There were still clothing stores and boutiques, but I also saw a number of kink clubs and they didn’t look as wholesome as those aboveground. In fact, the energy that oozed around this floor was slimy and damp, like a slug when you accidentally stepped on it barefoot. I shivered, drawing closer to Herne, who started to put his arm around my waist then stopped as I let out a moan as his fingers closed over the wound.

  Eldris noticed. I saw him glance at me, then at Herne, then back at me. But he said nothing, just adopted a faint smile and turned back to the hall. We paused in front of a plain door with “4-A52” stenciled on it. Eldris tapped on the door and a slot at eye level opened. A moment later, the door opened.

  There, guarding the opening, was a large, burly guard. I could tell he was a vampire—his eyes were shining and the tips of his fangs seemed unusually long, extending along the corners of his mouth. He was joined by a second man, equally as large and threatening. The first guard motioned to me.

  I glanced at
Eldris, a question in my eyes.

  “He’s going to search you.” Eldris looked half delighted, half nerve-wracked. That the owner of Fire & Fang looked nervous was enough to make me skittish. But I had no choice, and Herne was here. So I stepped up, expecting to be patted down.

  Instead, the guard pulled out a metal detector and wanded me. He stopped by my corset top and my coat. The wand beeped.

  “Zippers,” I said.

  He ran the handheld gadget around me and it beeped in all the right places, apparently, because he nodded and moved on to my boots, which also beeped at the grommets for the laces, but he ignored that. After a moment, he nodded for me to stand to the side.

  When he had finished scanning Herne and Yutani, he looked at Eldris. “Wait for us in the lounge. I’ll notify you when it’s time to retrieve them.” The bouncer nodded to the nightclub across the corridor.

  Eldris’s smooth demeanor vanished and he gave the bouncer a single nod before turning away and heading across the corridor.

  The bouncer glanced at the three of us. “The regent awaits. Follow me.”

  And so, falling in behind him, with the second guard behind us, we followed the vampire into the lair of Regent Dormant Reins.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The first thing I noticed was that the room was brighter than I expected, especially compared to the dim corridors of the sub-level. An overhead crystal chandelier illuminated the small but elegant chamber. It looked well used—rooms often had an abandoned feel to them when they weren’t used very often.

  The floor was a black and white checkerboard, and the walls were a pale gray with black trim. In a totally non sequitur way, it reminded me of a retro diner. But instead of booths and a kitchen and the smell of food, the conference room was set out like a living room, with a black leather sofa, chrome and glass tables, several wing chairs matching the couch, and a desk to one side, with a rolling office chair behind it. The desk was neat, with a laptop on it, what looked like an appointment book, and a landline telephone. For a moment I was surprised, but then I realized—we were several floors below the surface. Cell phones might not get such great reception here.