The Silver Stag

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The Silver Stag Page 11

by Yasmine Galenorn


  “That’s all good to know. What about martial arts? Parkour?”

  “I train five days a week, strength training, agility training, parkour. While I’m not conversant with any particular martial art, I’m good with basic hand-to-hand.” I thought for a moment, then added, “I threw myself into my training when my parents were murdered. I lived with Angel’s family from the time I was fifteen until I turned eighteen. Mama J. was really good to me, and she supported my decision to become a bounty hunter.”

  “You found them, didn’t you? Your parents. Herne told us about it when we were discussing whether we should bring you into the agency or not.”

  “Yeah, I found them.” I closed my eyes, not wanting to flash back to the scene, but it was still as vivid as the day it had happened.

  I had come home from school late to find the back door open and my parents brutally murdered. It’d all been a blur after that. When I realized that the police weren’t going to bother finding out what happened, I swore that one day I would hunt down the murderers and they would pay. I had always been athletic, but that’s when I threw myself into training and for over fifteen years I had kept at it. I was proud of my strength.

  “I’m sorry,” Viktor said. “I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.” He opened the door to the Market, standing back as I entered. “We need to head to the west end. From there we can find the entrance to the catacombs.”

  I shook away the images that were playing out in my mind, bringing myself back into the present. “I never knew there was an entrance to the catacombs near the Market. All I knew about were the entrances downtown—the main entrances.”

  “Vampires don’t like it when people know too much. A number of the entrances that exist now weren’t around when underground Seattle first came to be. But remember, the catacombs were there beforehand and as the vampires took over the subterranean level, they found older entrances, and created more. I get it—it’s self protection. The bloodsuckers never know when some yokel is going to go stake-happy on them. Not that it ever ends well, and they’re well within their rights to defend themselves. It’s just sad when some cockeyed teen who wants to make a mark for himself.”

  I glanced over at Viktor. He seemed a lot more philosophical than I expected an ogre to be. “Tell me more about you. Your mother was human?”

  He nodded. “She’s a good woman. She and my father split up, of course. It would never have worked in the long run. I’m not sure why they even got together. She never told me and every time I asked she just said, ‘Later, son.’

  “After they broke up, Da went back up into the mountains, back to his people. I stayed with Mom. She accepts me for who I am. She’s never once said she was disappointed in me. But Da, he’s another matter. I was too short, too weak, too soft-hearted, too much like a human. I haven’t seen him in over a hundred years.”

  I clapped Viktor on the back, feeling an odd camaraderie with him. “He’s the one who’s missing out, Viktor.”

  “Call me Vik, all my friends do.” He pointed down the main corridor leading to the west. “There, we need to go down that way.”

  The Viaduct Market was awash with customers and clients, bustling like a street fair. The stalls were filled with fresh spring vegetables—lettuce and radishes, carrots and early greens. Large vases held dozens of daffodils and tulips, a veritable array of spring colors blazing through the building. The smells of smoked meat and hot sandwiches filled the air, and I wished we had waited to eat lunch. The food courts were astounding. The fish market hadn’t changed much, still boasting fresh fish right off the docks. My mouth began to water, even though I wasn’t hungry. We passed a fortuneteller’s stall, the woman reading cards for someone who was crying on the other side of the table. I glanced at a tattoo studio.

  “Everybody always thought my mark was a tattoo,” I said.

  Vik laughed. “Trust me, you’re going to have an actual one sooner than you think.” He pulled up his sleeve and showed me an intricate tattoo of a dagger with vines around it. “Everybody who works for Herne gets marked with this tattoo. It identifies us to anybody who might question our right to be where we are. Especially your people.”

  “They’re not my people. I may carry their blood in my veins, but they disowned me.”

  I took a long look at his tattoo. It was pretty, I had to admit. The thought of being marked as somebody’s property—that’s what it felt this was—didn’t set well, but I’d already crossed that bridge and burned it to the ground. Apparently I had been born for this, and marked at birth by Cernunnos.

  We wound our way through the stalls, assaulted by the clamor and smells of the market, until we came to the west wing exit. I looked around.

  “So where’s the entrance to the catacombs?”

  Vik smiled and pointed toward the floor. “We have to go down for that.”

  And with that, he pushed open the janitor’s door, and motioned for me to follow him. I frowned as we entered the closet. I didn’t see a staircase, just buckets of bleach, and floor wash, and mops and brooms and all sorts of maintenance tools.

  “So where are the stairs?”

  Vik reached up and pulled the chain on an overhead light. As a cold fluorescent light filled the room, he led me toward one of the side walls. Once there, he slipped his finger through a hook on the wall and pulled. There was a groaning sound and a panel began to slide back on the opposite wall. I turned quickly, expecting somebody to be there waiting, but there was only a dim light in the recessed alcove. As I peeked in, I saw that the narrow nook was basically a landing, leading to a very steep spiral staircase. I shuddered when I realized it was wrought iron.

  “I’m going to need some gloves before heading down that staircase.”

  He gave him a puzzled look.

  “I’m Fae.”

  He still looked bewildered.

  “Cast iron and wrought iron? We don’t get along so well.”

  A look of understanding swept over his face. “Oh that’s right. Hold on, I’ll get you something to wear.” He slipped back into the closet and returned, carrying a pair of heavy work gloves. They swamped my hands but at least they would protect me from the feel of the iron. It set me ajar, still, to be so close to the metal, but I’d be all right as long as I didn’t touch it with bare fingers. If I stayed too long on the staircase I’d end up with a massive headache, but if we weren’t on it more than a few minutes, I’d be all right. The animosity between iron and Fae was often overexaggerated, but it was based on fact. The elementals belonging to the iron ore had a grudge match with us, while the silver elementals actually liked us.

  “Ready?”

  I nodded. “They actually discovered the bodies down here?”

  Vik shook his head. “No, but we’re headed to where they did. I know where the entrance is located, but Herne wanted us to trace the route and see if we find anything along the way, which is why we’re taking the long way around. Come on, let’s move.” And with that, he started down the staircase. “Shut the door behind you. There’s enough light to see by here.”

  Not exactly jumping for joy, I shut the door behind me and followed him onto the staircase.

  Chapter 7

  AS WE DESCENDED into the belly of the market, it occurred to me there was a great deal about the city that I didn’t know. I had considered myself well versed in Seattle’s history, but apparently there were gaps in my studies and I was woefully lacking.

  The shaft was massively tall, and the stairs seemed to run both all the way down to the bottom and all the way up to the top of the market. The market was five stories high from the ground level, and how far it extended below street level I had no clue.

  “Who built this access passage? It seems extremely well hidden.” We had already descended past three doors leading onto other levels. The shaft itself was about six feet in diameter, just big enough for the staircase. It was dimly lit by amber-colored lights that seemed to spaced ever
y ten feet or so along the walls of the shaft.

  Vik gave a little shrug. “I don’t know, but it’s hidden for a reason. From what I was told, there are several other shafts like this, one in each wing. I believe they were built as a way to evacuate people to safety in case of a mass attack. You know, back in the day when it was considered hunky-dory for the average citizen to own an AK-47. I don’t know what use they have for these now, but when you think about it, it’s an uncongested way to get from level to level. For maintenance men and the like. We just passed the bottom level, at least as far as customers are concerned.”

  Two more levels took us to the bottom of the shaft. Which meant we were two stories belowground. Vik nodded to the heavy metal door in front of us. A keypad was flush to the wall next to the door, and I realized it was a code lock.

  “Do you have the code to get through here?”

  “Yeah. Thing is, it’s not locked to keep people from exiting the market. It’s to prevent unwanted visitors from entering from the catacombs.” He paused, then added, “In case you need to get back through here in a hurry and something’s happened to me, the code is 45723. Repeat that, please.”

  “457…23. I may not have a photographic memory, but when my life depends on it I tend to remember what I need to.” Until now, I hadn’t been nervous. However, the realization that the door was locked keep things out rather than in was unsettling.

  Vik punched in the code and the door softly clicked, opening to his touch. I wasn’t sure what I had expected, but it hadn’t been a smooth hallway, lit with more of the amber lights. As we passed through and the door closed behind us, locking once more, he pointed to where the keypad was on the inner side.

  “Give me the code again.”

  I was grateful that he was concerned for my safety. “45723.”

  “Good, you’ve got it. Have you ever encountered a vampire before? I know that may seem like a ridiculous question. Most everybody has, even if they don’t realize it, but I need to know if you’ve ever had any interaction with them. We’re down here in their territory. I don’t want any trouble if we can avoid it.”

  I thought back, trying to remember whether I had ever had dealings with any vampires. I tended to steer clear of the undead. It was generally a good idea. After a moment, I shook my head.

  “When I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever met one, not to recognize.” I blushed. “This is going to sound like a stupid question, but is there a way you can tell that someone is a vampire just from looking at them? I mean, the Fae have a certain look to them—I know, I’ve been outed before just by my looks. Shifters, not so easy. And I never would have pegged you as half-ogre. But I don’t know much about vampires.”

  Vik paused, leaning against the wall. “When they’re angry, their eyes burn crimson. Then again, a number of the undead do, as well as demons. Of course, the fangs are a dead giveaway—no pun intended. But their fangs are recessive, so they aren’t always visible.”

  “They descend when they’re…hungry?”

  Vik nodded. “It’s kind of like an uncontrollable arousal. When a vampire’s hungry or in predatory mode—hunting mode, if you will—their fangs descend. A lot like a guy who gets an erection. It’s hard to hide. But when a vampire is well fed, and they aren’t on the prowl, their teeth look just like yours and mine. Otherwise, there isn’t much giveaway.”

  “Wonderful. And they can move around during the day, right?”

  “Only if they’re out of the light. Sunlight and fire will both kill them. Fire if they’re caught in it, sunlight will burn them on contact—if they can get out of it quick enough, they’ll suffer damage but survive. If they can’t get out of it, they’ll burn to ashes. Also, they’re extremely strong, far stronger than humans. They’re stronger than most shifters, and definitely stronger than the Fae. They’re also extremely fast, and some can shift shape into wolves, rats, or bats. That’s not a given, but down here? If you see one of those, there’s a good chance you’re facing a bloodsucker. By the way, they don’t appreciate that term. Never use it to their face.”

  I took note of what he was saying, filing it away for future use. If someone had told me this morning that I would be creeping through the catacombs, facing down vampires, I would have laughed in their face.

  Vik motioned for me to follow him. “If we do end up in a fight, you may need this.” He reached back, holding a silver stake in his hand. “I know the Fae can use silver, so you should be able to hold this.”

  I silently took the stake, tucking it through one of my belt loops. After a moment, I thought of a couple other questions.

  “Is it true that you need to hit them through the heart with it? And will any sort of stake work? I mean, what if all you have is a broken chair leg or a dagger?”

  “Silver works best. Vampires hate silver just like Fae hate iron. It hurts them and, if it touches them long enough, it can do permanent damage. Wooden stakes also work, although they’re more problematic. Bullets won’t faze them. Really, what you want is something that’s extremely pointy, and you need to plunge it directly through their heart. Any other questions?”

  I felt like I was in school, learning about some new exotic creature. “The Fae, some more than others, have the ability to glamour. What about vampires?”

  “Vampires have more of an ability to mesmerize. It’s not a glamour, although they do possess a sensuality that’s hard to ignore. Even the butt-ugly ones reek of sex. With the Fae, it’s more charm. Vampires force the issue more. Think of it as the difference between a gorgeous glamour girl trying to seduce you, and someone spiking your drink with a date rape drug. The former being the Fae. The latter being vampires.”

  Vik had a way with words, I had to hand it to him. For an ogre, he was extremely articulate.

  We had been walking for about ten minutes and I began to notice various side tunnels, leading both to the right and the left. Also, the surface of the walls was getting rougher, and the concrete tunnel was giving way to rock. I touched the side of the wall. Vik noticed what I was doing.

  “We’re entering the catacombs proper now. Don’t worry too much about cave-ins. While it could happen, most of these have been around hundreds of years. They were here before Seattle was founded. That’s the thing, you see. There was a labyrinth of tunnels here long before the city was settled. The vampires just broke through to them from underground Seattle and incorporated the catacombs into their network. Unless we happened to be down here when there is a major earthquake, I don’t think these tunnels are going to come down anytime soon.”

  That didn’t give me much comfort, considering we were on several major fault lines. I tried not to think about the thousands of tons of rock over our heads as we continued to head west.

  At one point, I heard music off to the right as we passed a side passage. And a few moments later, laughter sounded from the left. Vik ignored both, keeping a quick pace as we navigated through the tunnel. Then he slowed, motioning for me to move to the right, close to the wall. Up ahead, two figures were headed our way. Even from this distance, I could feel something different about them.

  The two men slowed as they approached us, giving us a long once-over. They were wearing business suits, and one of them had hair down to his shoulders while the other’s was short, almost a buzz cut. There was something about them that set off alarm bells in my stomach, yet I found it hard to look away. Even standing behind Vik, I felt exposed and vulnerable.

  Vik puffed up, looming larger than he actually was, and I wondered if ogres had their own form of glamour. I realized that I could hear Vik breathing, and my own breathing, but the two men who were facing us were still as night.

  “Looking for anything in particular?” one of them said, in a slow languorous voice. “Any help we can offer?” The question was suggestive, fraught with opportunity and danger.

  Vik stared the men down. “Thanks, but we’re fine.”

  “Are you sure? Wha
t about the pretty lady? She looks like she could use some…help.”

  “I’m going to reach in my pocket now, for my identification.”

  Vik held his hands out, as though he were facing the police, and then slowly reached for his pocket, easing his wallet out. The vampires watched him closely as he opened it and held out his agency identification. There was a pause, and the men suddenly became all business. Their hypnotic energy withdrew, leaving cold, ruthless expressions on their faces.

  “We won’t detain you. Be careful, though, there have been a number of unexplained deaths around here.” The one with the buzz cut gave me another look. “She with you?”

  Vik nodded. “She also works for the Wild Hunt.”

  “You know, our community would be extremely grateful if you could find out who’s behind the murders. I assume that’s what you’re looking into.”

  It sounded like a warning. Then, the longer-haired vamp turned away and, followed by his friend, they headed down the corridor in the direction from which we had come. Vik waited until they vanished from sight, motioning for me to stay quiet. When they had disappeared around the corner into a side passage, he let out a long breath.

  “Well, we dodged a bullet there.” He leaned back against the wall. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. But that was one of the most uncomfortable interactions I’ve had in a long time. If those are vampires, I could do without them.”

  “As Herne said, all four factions of the United Coalition know about us. Well, about all the agencies like us. Word spreads, especially to those in higher positions. My guess is that our two vampires have some clout down here. Otherwise, they might not have recognized my identification. I took a gamble and it paid off. Come on. I want out of here as soon as possible.”

  I seconded his sentiment, and we began to jog down the corridor at a faster pace. Another twenty minutes brought us past a number of other side corridors, and to a shaft with a ladder leading upward. Vik began to ascend. I still had my gloves on and swung onto it without hesitation. About fifty feet up, Vik reached up to the ceiling and slid a panel back. A moment later, a shaft of light broke through. He scrambled out of the opening, then reached down to help me out. As soon as I was standing on the sidewalk, he shut the panel again.

 

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