by J. C. Diem
“I’m Efrem Prager and I’m a member of the Shifter Guild,” the werewolf said in amusement. “You’re just Night Cursed scum and you have no jurisdiction over me.”
“We have the right to arrest any individual who has committed a crime, Mr. Prager,” Sgt. Malone said. “Cuff him and take him to the station,” he ordered his team. “If he resists, shoot him in the knees.” The wounds would heal quickly as long as the bullets weren’t made from silver, but it would still hurt like hell.
“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Efrem shouted and readied himself to attack the cops. Several shots rang out and he roared in pain as his kneecaps shattered beneath the barrage. I saw a curtain on the second floor of his house twitch, then his son’s face came into view. He peered downward and watched in dismay as his father turned back into his human form. Naked, bleeding and handcuffed, Mr. Prager was placed into the back of the carriage.
“Xiara Evora,” the sergeant said when the carriage rumbled away. “We meet at last.”
He held his hand out and I dutifully shook it. “You wouldn’t know a doctor by the name of Travis Napier, would you, Sgt. Malone?” I asked. We were both speaking quietly so the shifters in the neighborhood wouldn’t be able to overhear us. Faces were at the windows all up and down the street. They’d born witness to what happened to lawbreakers who were caught in the act. The teen glared down at us in hatred before stepping back into the shadows.
“Call me Rick,” the officer replied with a grin. “Travis warned me to be on the lookout for shifters who might be mistreating the Night Cursed. We were patrolling the area and saw the werewolf carrying the nurse over his shoulder.”
We looked down at the nurse to see she’d stopped breathing. No one could have saved her after having her head cracked open like that. “I wish the Immortal Triumvirate would let me kill that werewolf,” I said wistfully as a pair of skeletons ambled over. They’d been given instructions to tuck any bodies that they found out of sight. It wouldn’t do for the uncursed citizens to become traumatized by the carnage. There was no point burying our kind because we would just return to our beds the following night.
“We both know that’s never going to happen,” Rick said quietly. “The uncursed are untouchable.” His tone was slightly bitter as he voiced that truth.
“How are we going to stop that from happening again?” I asked, gesturing at the dead nurse that was being carried away by the walking corpses.
“We can’t,” was his bleak answer. “All we can do is remain vigilant and try to protect our kind as best we can.”
That wasn’t good enough for me, but we were helpless to prevent the attacks. The city was too vast for the few of us who could remember the danger to be able to keep everyone safe.
Chapter Twelve
QUILLA CAME KNOCKING on my door shortly after I got up the following night. “Hey, what’s up?” I asked when I opened the door. Her expression was frightened.
“I received a request to do a private reading,” she told me and handed me the note that had been magically delivered to her apartment.
It only took me a few moments to read the short message. It asked her to attend a house in the Vampire District and had listed an address that was in the most prestigious area. “This is a first,” I said in surprise. To my knowledge, she’d never been called to a client’s house in the bloodsuckers’ area before. The note vanished from my hand a moment later.
“It’s from Lord Kreaton,” she said. “I saw a vision that he’s going to kill me after I do a reading for him. It’s going to be just like the reading I did for Lord Graham a while ago.”
We both shivered at the memory of the shifters devouring us after we’d made a trip to their woods. Their alpha hadn’t liked the fortune that she’d told for him. He also hadn’t wanted any witnesses. He assumed that killing us would wipe our memories clean, but he’d been wrong. Quilla had no idea just how long ago her appointment with him had been. To us, it only seemed like it had happened a few months ago rather than a full decade in the past.
“What’s going on up there?” Lady Marigold called out when she heard our voices. She murmured something to Jasper, then I heard the thud of her backhanding Gip when the parrot insulted her.
“I have to go, or I’ll be late,” Quilla said.
I hadn’t had a chance to eat yet, but my stomach was now churning too much for me to be able to choke down a meal. I followed her downstairs and we ran into Lady Marigold as she was climbing upwards. “What trouble have you two girls gotten yourselves into this time?” she asked. A couple of inches taller than me, Marigold had long, wavy blonde hair and sky blue eyes. She wore an emerald green dress that cinched in her waist and made her boobs bulge upwards. A long black coat with a hood did nothing to cover her chest. A thin rapier was strapped to her waist. She called herself an expert swordswoman and I’d seen her in action a few times to know she wasn’t just boasting.
“Lord Kreaton sent a letter to Quilla summoning her to his house to read his fortune,” I explained.
Marigold grimaced and joined us as we made our way downstairs. “I don’t suppose there’s any way you can refuse the summons,” she said.
Quilla shot her a disbelieving look over her shoulder. “He’s our leader,” she reminded our friend. “No one can say no to the Immortal Triumvirate.”
“We’ll go with you,” I offered. Dread seized hold of me at the thought of my bestie being alone with the ultimate master vampire of Nox.
“You can’t,” she said, shaking her head in denial as we reached the exit. “Not this time,” she added. “He’ll know something is up if you two accompany me.”
“She’s right,” Marigold said reluctantly. “It’ll be suspicious if we go with her.”
A carriage pulled up and the gypsy climbed in. Her face was ashen and I hoped she would be able to pull herself together before she reached her destination. The last thing she needed was for the Triumvirate to become aware of just how psychic she was. The carriage took off and we watched it go in morose silence.
“You know, I’ve never been to the Vampire District,” Lady Marigold said nonchalantly. “How would you like to give me a tour of the area?”
A carriage was already pulling up at the curb and I found myself grinning slightly. “Sure,” I agreed. “The leeches would eat you alive if you went alone. They’ll keep their distance if I’m with you.”
We climbed into the carriage and it took off. I could see the lanterns of Quilla’s vehicle up ahead. Following my mental command, our driver took the same route that my bestie was taking. We crossed the stone bridge into the Vampire District and wended our way through the narrow streets. It came as no surprise when we entered the richest area of the District. Here, the houses were almost like castles. Imposing gray stone walls looked down on us as we passed them by. Marigold shivered as she peered out through her window. Streetlamps were few and far between. The Vampire District was gloomy and far from a tourist attraction. Any visitors who came here were usually turned into food.
Quilla’s carriage stopped at a lavish mansion and ours halted as well when the driver picked up on my wish. Marigold and I climbed out and I hid Wrath behind my back to block his holy glow.
Our small friend looked over her shoulder directly at us, then resolutely looked away when a vampire minion opened the gate for her. We were too far away to overhear their conversation, but the leech stepped aside to let Quilla through. He herded her towards the front door and they disappeared inside.
“I wish we could hear what’s going on in there,” Marigold said wistfully.
We both jumped when Chesi suddenly arrived. The little dragon circled around us, then grabbed hold of both of us by our collars and lifted us into the air. Marigold clapped her hands over her mouth to keep in a startled scream. Vampiric hearing was so acute that she would have given us away if she’d let it out.
Chesi carried us to the steeply slanted roof of Lord Kreaton’s mansion and set us down on a small ba
lcony on the third floor. Marigold opened her mouth to speak, but the little dragon pressed her tiny paw against my friend’s lips. Clearly, she wanted us to be quiet.
Thick black drapes covered the French doors. Chesi flicked her paw and sent a tiny amount of air through a crack to make a small gap between the drapes. I peered through the gap to see Lord Kreaton pacing up and down in what looked like a den. Bookshelves lined the walls and ancient looking tomes were crammed in side by side. I could see a heavy wooden coffee table and a couple of brown leather armchairs sitting in front of an unlit fire. The master vampire turned when he heard a noise.
Marigold knelt down so she could peer through the gap as well. Chesi waved her paws, then sound filtered to us through a crack in the French doors. “Come in, Madam Astrid,” Lord Kreaton said in a deceptively pleasant tone. The dragon erected an air bubble around us while drawing the conversation to us. Now we didn’t have to strain to hear him and he wouldn’t hear his own voice coming from the balcony.
Quilla came into view and her host ushered her into one of the armchairs. “What can I do for you, Lord Kreaton?” the gypsy asked in a neutral tone. She’d mastered her fear and her expression was mildly inquisitive.
“I need you to read my fortune,” the bloodsucker said, then took the seat across from her. He waved away the deck of tarot cards she produced from her pocket. “I require you to look into your crystal ball,” he informed her. “I’ve heard your predictions are eerily accurate.”
Quilla couldn’t quite hide her grimace that she would have to use the crystal ball. It drained her energy to do so, but she couldn’t refuse his request. She put the cards away and pulled out her small opaque crystal ball and a silver stand. When they were positioned on the coffee table in front of her, she looked at her host. “Is there anything in particular you want me to delve for, my lord?” she asked.
He steepled his hands and peered at her over the top of his long fingers. With his black clothing, dark eyes, swarthy skin and stringy black hair, he was intimidating. “I’ve heard an artifact was smuggled into Nox recently,” he said, remaining deliberately vague. “I need to know if this object will prove to be a danger to me.”
Quilla nodded in understanding, then grabbed her shawl when it slid off her shoulders. She took her time to settle her shawl back into place, then braced herself and looked into the crystal ball. Colors swirled around inside it, then her gaze became distant. “The artifact you seek has the potential to be your downfall,” she intoned in a voice that didn’t sound like hers.
Lord Kreaton’s lips pulled back in a snarl, revealing that his fangs had descended. “Where is the artifact?” he asked. “Can it be destroyed?”
The gypsy peered into the crystal ball and it swirled again. “Its location is hidden from me,” she said with a frown. “Magic spells are guarding it. All I can see is that the artifact is a danger to you.”
“What is the probability that it will be used against me?” the master leech asked. His hands were clamped on the leather armrests of his chair. His fingers sank into it as if it was made of cotton candy.
“The probability is high,” Quilla responded. “But your fate is not set in stone. It has yet to be determined whether your enemies will succeed in their endeavor.”
“When will they attempt to kill me?” he asked, fingers sinking even deeper into the armrest until it creaked in protest.
“It will be decades before the artifact will be used,” Quilla said, staring into the crystal ball as if mesmerized by the future that only she could see. “I can’t see who will use it, just that they are your enemies.”
Lord Kreaton’s face became suffused with rage that some nameless, faceless people would dare to defy him. “I am a ruler of Nox!” he hissed. “The Immortal Triumvirate is too powerful to be overthrown!”
“All regimes eventually fall, Lord Kreaton,” the seer said in a knowing tone. “No one can live forever. No matter how hard they try to avoid death, it will always claim them in the end.”
Surging to his feet with a roar, the bloodsucker sent the crystal ball flying with a sweep of his hand. Marigold and I flinched when it hit the French door and shattered a pane of glass. Quilla shrieked when the monster grabbed her and lifted her off the chair. His fangs sank into her neck and she gave a gargled scream as he tore her throat out. The leech drank his fill of her blood, then tossed her limp, lifeless body aside. The contempt on his face when he stepped over her filled me with even more rage than seeing him murdering her had. Marigold was just as furious, but she knew better than to barge inside and attempt to attack him. We would both end up dead along with Quilla.
“Get rid of the body,” Lord Kreaton ordered someone out in the hall. Two minions entered the room and gathered up Quilla’s corpse. She was carried out of sight and would probably be dumped in the basement until the following night. The magic of the city would return her to her bed before nightfall like always.
Chapter Thirteen
CHESI TOOK HOLD OF us again and whisked us both to the rooftop of our warehouse. Marigold’s face was red from suppressed rage. She waited until we were safely inside my apartment before venting her anger. “That filthy bloodsucking bastard!” she said viciously as she paced up and down. Her hand rested on the pommel of her rapier and her skirts swished with each furious step that she took. “He’ll pay for what he did to Quilla!” she added. “They’ll all pay for how they treat us!”
I felt heartsick for my bestie. Quilla had known she would die at the hands of the master vampire, yet she’d had no choice but to obey his summons. The gypsy was one of the bravest people I knew. She didn’t deserve to have her throat torn out and to be discarded like trash. “Their time will come,” I said grimly. “Quilla has now foreseen both Lord Graham and Lord Kreaton being defeated sometime in the future.”
“She said it’s only a possibility,” Marigold reminded me. She paused to pour herself a glass of white wine from the bottle that appeared on the dining table. I declined the offer, knowing the alcohol would go straight to my head. I needed to be able to think clearly.
“Things are being put into place,” I said, stroking Chesi’s scaly back in thanks for allowing us to witness the events that had just occurred. “We know some of the shifters will rebel. Now there’s apparently a powerful artifact that can take a master vampire down. All we need is something, or someone, to take on Lord Dallinar and maybe the unholy trinity will be overthrown.”
A thought occurred to Lady Marigold and she halted. “What if the people who are planning to overthrow them are worse than our current leaders?”
“I’m not sure that’s even possible,” I replied. “They’re evil to the core even if they can hide it from everyone else. Quilla sensed how malevolent they are when she became linked to them and so did I.”
Marigold wasn’t psychic and she wasn’t their pet executioner, so she didn’t have the same insights into our rulers that Quilla and I had. She trusted our judgement and nodded reluctantly. “I suppose it’s comforting to know the Triumvirate will hopefully be destroyed eventually, but what part will we play in their downfall?”
“That’s still a mystery,” I admitted. “I’m not sure why we’ve all been drawn together, or why Quilla is sent these visions. I’m bound to our leaders, so I can’t act against them directly. It isn’t possible for me to rebel against the Immortal Triumvirate.” Deep down, I hated the fairy, vampire and werewolf, but my rage was locked away deep inside me where they couldn’t sense it.
“Poor Quilla,” Marigold said, shoulders slumping at the fate that had befallen our friend. “How can someone be so cruel to such a small, defenseless woman?”
“Lord Kreaton is over a thousand years old,” I said tiredly. The night had barely begun, yet I already felt exhausted. “I don’t think women were treated all that well back in his day,” I added. “I’m not sure where he’s from, but it was somewhere in Europe.”
“Well, he’s in America now,” she retorted and tossed her head
in annoyance. “The United States is supposed to be a civilized place.”
“Maybe the rest of the country is, but Nox is a world unto itself,” I reminded her.
“I’m British and I don’t remember men being so horrible to women.”
“What do you remember about England?” I asked.
Her brow furrowed as she tried to pierce the fog in her mind. “Nothing,” she said at last. “My past is gone. All I remember is Nox. It’s as though I didn’t exist before the City of Night came into being so many centuries ago.”
I was tempted to tell her that Nox had only existed for ten years, but I resisted the urge. Hearing that truth had rocked me and it had messed with my mind. My brain was trying to purge the information to protect itself. The Night Cursed weren’t supposed to be aware of the dark magic that had created us. We were supposed to remain blessedly ignorant of our origins. I felt a spike of pain in my head that I might not always have been a hunter of evil monsters and bad guys. I had to push the thought away before the pain could become overwhelming.
“Are you alright, Xiara?” Marigold asked me in concern. Chesi rubbed her face against mine as if she could feel my pain.
“I’m fine,” I reassured them both and managed to sound convincing.
“I’m dying of curiosity about this artifact,” Lady Marigold said, tapping her fingernail on her wineglass thoughtfully. “I wonder where it is and who hid it?”
“It’s another mystery,” I said. I had a feeling Jardine knew what and where it was, but I couldn’t be completely sure. “We should head to work,” I suggested. “It’ll look suspicious if we hang out in my apartment all night.”
“You’re probably right,” she agreed. “It wouldn’t surprise me to learn the Triumvirate are keeping tabs on you. They know you’re different from the rest of us,” she added as we headed for the door. The empty wineglass had vanished from her hand now that she was finished with it. The bottle was gone as well. I had no idea where it went. It was just one more enigma in a city that was full of mystery.