by Robyn Bachar
Lex stepped forward and I grabbed him before he could lose his temper and pop Zach in the jaw. Not that I feared for Zach’s safety, but I’d feel the pain of the blow too. Zach’s frown deepened, and I scowled at him.
“Exactly when were you going to mention this?” I asked.
“I didn’t know about it until he arrived tonight.”
“Good thing I brought my sword.” Said sword was strapped to my waist. It didn’t quite go with my blue jeans, but I thought it complemented the top hat well. “Unless I can trade up to a bazooka. Or an Uzi might be nice.”
“Are those weapons allowed?” Faust asked Zach, tilting his head to the side. Zach glared at the faerie.
“No, they are not. I’m sure Catherine will do fine with her rapier. She did well enough against Dorian with it,” he countered.
The breath whooshed from my lungs as I deflated like a kinslaying balloon. Yeah, I’d killed my father, Dorian, but he’d had it coming. I tried not to think about it, except when it came back to haunt me in the wee hours of the morning when I contemplated the idea of starting a family with Lex. How could I justify having kids? I was a bad witch, spawned from an even worse sorcerer-turned-necromancer. His wasn’t the only blood I had on my hands, and now I was expected to help homicide some vampire’s lackey.
“Does it matter at all that I’m disinclined to acquiesce to their request?” I asked.
“If you refuse, I will lose the challenge and my seat on the council,” Zach pointed out.
“I’m not seein’ a problem with that,” Lex said. “It’d put an end to any future challenges. You know you’ll have more of them, even if you win.”
“Yeah, I have to agree with that. You’re too young to be a council member anyway,” I added.
“I am not too young—” Zach began, but I cut him off.
“You’re dangerously close to a time-out.”
Faust snickered, and I fought the urge to smile. Mustn’t let the evil faerie think I like him. Zach sighed as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders, and I didn’t feel guilty. He’d dragged me into this mess. I hoped he suffered.
“You do realize that I am not a combat nut and am likely to get us both killed in a fight, right?” I said.
“You’re not that bad,” Lex muttered. I blinked at him, wondering if that was a compliment.
“If you can keep your shields up, I can handle the rest,” Zach assured me.
Great. Story of my witch’s life. Keep your shields up, Cat. Everything’ll be fine. My shields were pretty damn good, but I knew from experience that they didn’t last forever. I’d been working on self-defense skills these past few weeks—having a former guardian for a husband worked wonders in that department—and I’d been undergoing some supersecret magic lessons with my faerie cousin Portia, but that didn’t make me eager to throw down in a necromancer fight.
“Now all I need is a blood donation before the challenge begins.”
“No,” Lex said.
“I’m afraid it is nec—”
“How much blood?” I interrupted. I knew blood donation was nonnegotiable. I’d learned a lot about vampires in the past few months, and blood was always part of the equation.
“Enough,” he replied evasively. “I really can’t quantify it.”
“You don’t need it. You want to hold the council seat, do it on your own,” Lex argued.
Oh, those were testosterone-filled fightin’ words. Zach’s anger burned at the implication that he wasn’t strong enough to hold Laura’s seat, but his expression was controlled.
“I can manage the fight on my own. However, considering that Catherine will share my injuries, I think it is best for both our sakes that I go into the fight as strong as possible.”
A vein in Lex’s neck twitched as he clenched his jaw, but he didn’t argue.
“We can take care of the blood matter now if you’ll give us some privacy.”
“Before I go, I have something for you,” Anthony said. He withdrew a piece of paper from inside his jacket and handed it to me. My eyebrows rose as I took it, and I unfolded it to find a flyer. A stylized tiger colored in red, white, and blue was splashed across it, with the word HOPE printed across the bottom in bold block letters.
“I got it from a coyote,” he explained.
“You can’t be serious,” I replied. “She can’t campaign to be Titania. No one votes for it ’cept the faerie council. This is just…wrong.”
Anthony shrugged and followed Faust out of the room. I showed the paper to Lex and he shook his head. I jammed the thing into the back pocket of my jeans. We’d discuss it later—more stress I didn’t need right now.
“It would appear that Miss O’Driscoll is becoming quite popular among the shapeshifters,” Zach commented.
“Yeah, she’s just sweetness and light, isn’t she?” The words were bitter in my mouth, and I instantly felt guilty for saying them. Maureen would be ashamed of me for bitching about a member of her family, and that stung, but I couldn’t help it. After the hell I’d gone through to become Titania, I still wasn’t good enough to make the witch council happy, and thanks to their interference I was going to have to fight to keep a job I’d already won fair and square.
Sounds familiar, Zach thought at me. I mentally flipped him off. Great, Dracula and I were two peas in a pod. Wasn’t that special?
It was just Lex, Zach and me left in the room, and the two men stared daggers at each other.
“I did ask for privacy,” Zach pointed out.
“I’m not leavin’ you alone with my wife.” There was no mistaking the emphasis he placed on the word, another reminder to Zach that I belonged with Lex and not with him. Zach’s irritation itched in my thoughts and I took my top hat off to scratch my scalp as though I could feel it through my skull.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he assured us.
I barked a bitter laugh. “Yeah right. Because your track record at that is so good. Lex stays, get it over with.”
I set my hat down, stepped in front of Lex and leaned back against his chest. He slipped one arm around my waist and then I held my wrist out to Zach. It was close to an insult—Zach was a neck man—but he couldn’t argue with us. He sighed, shaking his head as he approached. My nose twitched at the smoky scent of vamp magic, but I fought down the urge to sneeze. There was an awkward pause as he peered at my wrist in disappointment, but he’d deal. The last time Zach fed from my neck I’d almost ended up topless, but I’d come to my senses before things had gone too far. I was never letting him that close again. This was clinical, like a blood donation to the Red Cross. I didn’t have to read his mind to know that he hated it.
Lex hated it too. I could practically feel the ill will rolling off him like an arctic blast. I leaned into him, hoping the fact that I wanted to be near him and away from Zach would give Lex some comfort. He held me tighter as Zach’s fangs pierced my skin, but I wasn’t sure if that was a reflex or an attempt to reassure me. Because I’d forbidden him to use any pleasurable magic, the bite hurt. A lot. Like twin needles stabbing my skin, and each pull of his mouth rocketed pain up my arm. I grimaced, grinding my teeth. It seemed to take impossibly long, probably because it hurt like a motherfucker, but when black spots began dancing across my field of vision, Zach pulled away.
“Are you happy now?” I asked, my voice breathy. He didn’t answer aloud, but I heard a clear no from his thoughts.
Too bad. That’s all you get, I shot back. Clearing my throat, I pulled my arm close and rubbed at my wrist. Ow. I could already see the spot where the bruise would form—a giant hickey like I’d been attacked by a demon vacuum cleaner. Turning, I escaped into Lex’s embrace, and he rubbed my back as he glowered at the vampire.
“What time is the challenge?” Lex asked.
“At midnight. You’re free to mingle until then. Try not to kill any of the guests. Oh, that reminds me…” Zach replied, trailing off.
“Reminds you of what?” I prompted. No
good could come from that segue.
“We’ve lost another sorcerer and found two more shapeshifter bodies.”
“When?” Lex asked.
“The shifters were found on Monday. The sorcerer went missing Wednesday evening. He left the office at 5:30 and never made it home to his family,” Zach explained.
“That could be anything,” I argued, despite the sinking surety in my gut. “Intersorcerer politics. Or even a mugging.”
“I doubt anyone could mug a sorcerer,” he scoffed.
I scowled at him and Lex inhaled sharply. “Why not? I got mugged,” I reminded him.
Zach’s face fell as he realized his error. “Of course, I apologize. But a sorcerer, particularly this one, a member of the Salerno family, would be able to fight back against a mundane attacker. He didn’t have any problems with the other families, so it makes the Promethean hunters the most likely attackers.”
“A Salerno, like Anthony?” I asked.
“Yes.”
“Damn.”
The fact that the hunters were targeting sorcerers with families meant that anyone could be next. They’d nabbed Anthony once, not realizing he was connected to Zach. I’d gone with Zach to rescue Anthony because the kid was faerie-blooded, so his welfare fell into my Titania jurisdiction. During his escape, Anthony had swiped the hard drives of some computers he’d stumbled across. The good news was that we had a name to place with the hunters—they were part of Task Force Prometheus. The bad news was that the Prometheans had thousands of magicians’ names and were working their way through the list.
“You may want to look into increasing your security,” Zach suggested.
“Our security’s fine,” Lex snapped.
“Right. How about we go mock some dead people, okay?” I suggested. The more distance between Lex and Zach the better.
Taking his arm, I led him out of the room and into the party. His all-black ensemble fit right in, which was somewhat disturbing. Black hid bloodstains well—the reason behind his attire—and he was resisting my attempts to work color into his wardrobe. Lex was resistant to change, and thanks to me he’d had a bucketful of drama dumped into his lap. New job, new wife, and we were looking for a new house. His old clothes were pretty much the last familiar thing he had left. Things would be smoother once I got this damn spell undone. Scanning the crowd, I wondered if my chronicler buddies Simon, Michael, and Emily were in attendance. As chroniclers they weren’t as annoying as regular vampires. Emily in particular was fun to talk to, because she had over one hundred years of gossip to share. I didn’t spot them, but that was for the best. They weren’t on Zach’s list of favorite people.
We found Anthony and Faust watching a group of vampires playing poker. Faust was smoking a thin, black cigarette and exhaling clouds of bright green smoke. My mouth watered for a smoke of my own. I’d quit again—Lex had insisted. He had a strict no-smoking-in-the-house policy, along with a no-smoking-in-the-car-or-on-the-property policy. Normally I wouldn’t mind, but considering all the stress we’d been under, my hands were practically shaking for want of a cigarette.
“Would you like me to get you something to eat?” Anthony asked. I quirked a brow at him, surprised by the suggestion. “It helps after donating.”
“Sure, thanks.”
We found a free seat where we could sit and glower at the passersby, and Anthony vanished for a bit before returning with a club sandwich. Faust wandered off to do whatever mysterious business shadowspawn faeries do, so I concentrated on chatting with Anthony while I ate. He was probably keeping an eye on us, but I didn’t mind him. I asked how his studies were going. I assumed our college experiences were very different. Anthony was a trust-fund baby, and I was still paying off my student loans.
The buzz of conversation picked up as midnight neared, and at a quarter to, Zach came by to fetch us. We followed him to the mansion’s ballroom, which had been staged for the battle. Nothing fancy, but there were a few daises set up to allow for raised seating so the important dead people wouldn’t have to mix with the rabble. Of course, in this situation we were the rabble, because Zach was being challenged, so we were in the front row. Being only a few years dead, Zach had no business being on the council in the first place. It had been only a matter of time before he was challenged, and provided we survived this, I was willing to bet there was a line of contenders waiting for their turn.
The stench of magic from the crowd of necromancers and vampires was overwhelming, like being trapped inside a slaughterhouse that was on fire. My eyes watered and I blinked rapidly—I wondered if I looked overcome with emotion instead of overcome by the smell. The odds of my shedding tears over Zach were slim, because if he died, I’d be dead too and wouldn’t have time to weep, even if I wanted to.
Would you?
I glared at him, annoyed by the intrusion. No. Maybe tears of joy though.
As the crowd murmured around us, I eyed the challenger, Mr. Rousseau, and his blooded minion. Rousseau had a strong resemblance to Tom Cruise in Interview with a Vampire, ruffled, white shirt and all, except he looked pretty tall, taller than me at least. I found the whole thing inappropriately hilarious. Zach was fighting Lestat? Great, who was his blooded minion? Louis? It’d work out well for me. I knew I could take a whiny bitch like Louis in a fight.
Shaking my head, I turned my attention back to my husband, who was more interesting and far more attractive. “What do you think?”
“He looks fast,” Lex replied.
“Faster than the average vampire?”
“Should be,” Faust chimed in. “He’s had enough time to practice.”
Chewing my bottom lip, I debated what to do to counteract that. Zach was fast, probably even faster than the average vampire. Question was, could a freakishly powerful baby vamp be faster than an elder vamp? Annoyance—not mine—flitted through my mind at that thought, and I looked at him. Zach’s emerald eyes were watching me, his brow furrowed, and I shrugged. It was true. Just because he’d ended up powerful for some reason didn’t undo the fact that he ought to be still teething. Rousseau, on the other hand, was not.
I turned my attention back to him. He looked athletic, like he went to a vampire gym and had an undead personal trainer. At least our entourage was cooler than his—no faeries on his team, evil or otherwise.
A boom like a thunderclap thrummed through the room, and all eyes turned to the highest dais where three chairs stood. Councilman Vargas loomed over the crowd, his cold, dark eyes gazing out over the masses. For a vamp he had a dark complexion, almost giving him an illusion of life and health, and he wore a conservative black suit. Armani? I’d been spending way too much time around Zach if I could spot designers at a distance. From what I’d heard, Vargas had been some sort of Spanish nobility, and like many of the Old World vamps, he’d come to the new world looking to carve out a seat of power for himself.
“Councilman Harrison’s seat has been challenged by Sir Rousseau. As of this moment the seat is vacant. The winner of this challenge will gain the seat on this council. Sir Rousseau, are you ready?”
Our opponent nodded in reply, squaring his shoulders and saluting the councilman with his rapier. Sir? I really hoped the guy wasn’t a knight of some sort. Maybe just a Knight of Columbus, and all he did was raise money for charity and occasionally wore a big plumed hat.
“Zachary, are you ready?”
Zach slipped his suit jacket off and handed it to Anthony, unbuttoned the cuffs of his crisp white shirt, removed his tie, and then undid his collar button. Anthony handed him a sword, and it seemed odd somehow. Zach had never struck me as the sword type. “I am,” he replied. He nodded to me, and I withdrew my rapier from its scabbard.
“Catherine, if I may?” Faust said, holding out his hand.
I gave him the sword, curious, and bright orange flames leapt to life along the blade as magic crackled around the weapon. He handed it back to me and my arm was numb as I took it. The breath froze in my lungs as I realized
why I’d been growing fond of Faust—he reminded me of my cousin Tybalt. Tybalt had coated my rapier with frost in the middle of the fight that had killed him. He died defending me, defending our family, and his death was my fault.
Well, mine, and Lovely Laura’s minions, which included Harrison.
One day I’m going to stab you with this, I promised him as I squared my shoulders.
I don’t doubt it, he replied. Weapon in hand, we walked away, toward our opponents, and I steeled myself for the assault.
Sir Rousseau’s blade was without special effects, and I hoped that was a good sign. Maybe his minion couldn’t pull the effect off. Maybe the minion’s fire-spell skills were getting rusty after concentrating on necromancy for however long he’d been a minion. Of course, master necromancers had nasty surprises of their own—
“You may begin,” Vargas intoned, interrupting my train of thought, and the fight was on.
Chapter Two
My shields popped in place around me, creating my own sphere of safety as the two vampires leapt at each other. Zach and Sir Rousseau moved in a blur, back and forth, attack, parry and riposte. Their blades clanged, loud and fast—too fast—like someone hit fast forward on the scene in front of me. I turned my attention to my opponent, Louis. Zach had his hands full with Rousseau, and I didn’t want the minion ganging up on him.
Louis eyed me disdainfully. I get that expression a lot.
“This’d be quicker if you just gave up,” I suggested.
My opponent’s scowl deepened. “You first.”
“Do you know who I am? I’m a Silverleaf. You should’ve stayed home.”
That made him pause. My faerie cousins had gone on a glorious killing spree after Tybalt’s death, leaving a trail of dead vampires from coast to coast—hell, they might’ve gone global by now. I didn’t have long to gloat, because the tip of a blade sliced across my chest—Zach’d been hit. The pain was quick and sharp, but the wound was hidden beneath my shirt. I’d worry about it later.