The Turn

by Kim Harrison

  “What is that?” Trisk asked suspiciously as Cormel stood, and she touched her wrist to indicate the metallic band around Kal’s. “Charmed silver?” she guessed. “Where did you get it?”

  Cormel grinned, looking very unvampiric. “Vampires use witch magic all the time. How else do you think Piscary could look so good? He’s over five hundred years old.”

  “No way.” Daniel looked up from wiping a stray spill of lemonade off the bar.

  Cormel ambled back to the bar and took the glass Daniel had poured for him. “It’s true, but I agree, highly unusual. Piscary himself is . . . unusual. Most undead live only forty years after their first death. It’s only those who are clever enough to convince new living vampires that they love them and to willingly give them the blood they need who last longer. That’s why Piscary is concerned enough about the decreasing human population to take action when instinct says to keep still, stay in the shadows.” He took a sip of the lemonade, eyes lingering on the ice. “I tell him not to worry, that balance will find itself, but he has no soul, so he cannot believe it on faith.”

  “You don’t just take it? Blood, I mean?” Daniel asked, and Orchid gasped, clearly embarrassed by his question. Cormel, though, didn’t seem to mind.

  “Not for a long time,” he said. “It gets you noticed and there’s no need. There’re enough living vampires to meet demands.” His eyes went to the bar. “Or there were. The undead won’t take blood from the ill or young.” Cormel looked behind him at the couches and chairs around the long oval coffee table. “Are you going to wake him or let Ulbrine do it?”

  “Go on, wake up the lunker,” Orchid encouraged. “I want to see his face when he finds himself in a vampire’s basement.”

  Agreeing, Trisk broke the sleep charm with a whispered word of Latin.

  Kal snorted awake, his hand immediately going to his face to judge how long he’d been asleep by the thick bristles. Unlike Daniel, he’d gone two days without seeing a razor, and his infant beard made him look surprisingly . . . dashing. Daniel cleared his throat, and Kal’s gaze jerked from the high ceiling, stone walls, and thick carpet to the bar where they stood. Trisk’s eyes narrowed at his sudden flash of hatred directed at her. Smug, she raised her glass and took a noisy slurp, knowing he had to be parched.

  “Where am I?” he rasped, a hand going to his throat as he coughed.

  Orchid zipped to him, coming to a short stop that sent a gray dust spilling over him from momentum. “Cincinnati,” she said tightly. “Can’t you smell the chocolate in the chili?”

  Trisk’s smile became even more self-satisfied when Kal tugged at the thin band around his wrist, frowning when he realized he couldn’t do magic. “Nice,” he said, then went still, evaluating Rynn Cormel as the man crossed the room and set a full glass in front of him.

  “I’m Rynn Cormel,” he said as Kal reached for the lemonade and downed it, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You’re in Piscary’s living room. Sa’han Ulbrine is in the next room over.” Cormel took a step back, his disgust showing in the curve of his lips. “You may want to brush your hair. You’ll be giving your account soon. Such as it is.”

  Kal came up for air, gasping for breath. “They won’t believe Trisk over me,” he said as he set the glass down. Cormel pointedly moved it to a coaster. “A pixy and a . . .”

  “A what?” Trisk said, warming, but it was obvious. A dark elf. Second-class citizen.

  “Yeah?” Orchid darted in, wings clattering in outrage when Cormel reached out, caught her foot, and pulled her to safety. “Well, you’re troll turds, Kalamack. Troll turds on a stick!”

  But the truth of it was, he was right, and Trisk found little comfort in Orchid’s outburst.

  “It was her tomato, his virus,” Kal said as Cormel sat across from him, one leg atop the other knee. “You really think I’d upset the balance intentionally? She’s framing me for her ineptitude.”

  Trisk’s grip on her glass tightened, and Daniel took it out of her hand.

  “I take it back,” Orchid said. “He’s a troll turd with maggots in it. No, he’s the maggot eating the troll turd.”

  Cormel halfway hid a smile. “I don’t care who started the plague,” he said. “Actually, I would shake his or her hand if they were in this room. It’s lowered the numbers of humans such that Weres, witches, and even vampires can come out of the closet and not be targeted unduly. Especially if we work together to help our weaker kin.” He smiled impishly. “It’s my idea, you see. But it will take Piscary to sell it.”

  Daniel nodded slowly, but Trisk thought it was because coming out would save his life more than anything else.

  Kal inched forward to the edge of the couch, clearly wanting to stand and stretch his legs. “You think we should come out?” he said, settling back into the couch when Cormel all but growled at him. “After we decimated their numbers?”

  “No, I think you should hide,” Cormel said lightly. “Hide as the rest of us come out and fix what you broke. The elves should take the brunt of humanity’s hatred for their mistake. It will enable the rest of us to come out of the shadows and flourish. The enemy of my enemy, yes?”

  Kal’s eyebrows rose, his doubt obvious. Satisfied, Cormel remained standing before Kal when a set of double doors at the other end of the room opened and the sound of casual conversation slipped in. “Dr. Plank, it might be better if you didn’t say anything unless asked a direct question,” Cormel said, and the usually outspoken man nodded in agreement.

  Trisk couldn’t see into the hall, but she slid from her stool when Piscary came in. Kal remained seated until Sa’han Ulbrine followed, tight on his heels, the shorter man darting his gaze about until he found them at the bar, and then Kal on the couch. Kal’s shoulders rose in an embarrassed shrug when Ulbrine grimaced at him.

  A tall man in an outdated suit from the forties came in after them, looking like an older, drastically more frumpy version of Daniel. He walked with Leo, Piscary’s scion, who pushed a bandage-swathed man in a wheelchair. The scholarly man touched Leo’s shoulder familiarly in passing as Leo took the injured man to a distant corner and settled him at the outskirts.

  Behind them was Colonel Wolfe, with a haughty-looking older woman in a trendy business dress on his arm. The military officer nodded to Daniel, then dismissed him, making Daniel turn red and fume. Trisk knew they’d met only once, and briefly at that, before the government had taken control of his virus and shut him out.

  The petite woman beside Colonel Wolfe looked nothing like him, and yet somehow . . . they were a matched pair. Both were in their late forties, both clearly accustomed to giving orders that were taken without question. He had little ribbons and chevrons, and she had high heels and a diamond-covered watch.

  “Thank you, Rynn,” Piscary said, moving with an eerie, unusual quickness until Cormel cleared his throat and Piscary jerked into a slower pace. “Allow me to make the introductions. This is Professor Thole from Cincy’s university.”

  The tall man who’d come in with Leo adjusted his glasses and lifted a hand as he headed for the bar. “Good morning, everyone,” he said, his resonant voice loud, as if addressing an auditorium of restless students.

  “He teaches advanced physics of two varieties,” Piscary said, sidling between the couches and chairs to give Kal a visual once-over. “Thole does my spell fittings for me, but its his connections to the witches’ coven of moral and ethical standards that bring him here today.”

  Trisk’s eye twitched as Daniel slid down to make room for the taller man behind the bar. The rising scent of redwood said he was a practicing witch of note. Unable to resist, Trisk unfocused her second sight to check his aura, not surprised to find it streaked with black. He played with the dark stuff, and she looked away when he noticed her interest. Relief rose that her aura was clean—her smut for the forget curse now on Kal. Guilt was quick behind it.

  Kal took a step toward the bar, only to be shoved back onto the couch by Rynn Cormel.

 
“And I think everyone knows Colonel Wolfe,” Piscary said as Cormel moved to stand right behind Kal to make sure he didn’t get up again. “As I understand it, he’s been catching holy hell about his new tactical virus that Dr. Kalamack signed off on as being safe.”

  Kal opened his mouth, shutting it when Cormel cleared his throat.

  “That’s one way to put it,” Wolfe said, going to the bar to take the glass Professor Thole was filling.

  “And last but not at all least, the resplendent Mrs. Ray,” Piscary said, graciously inviting her to sit. “One of Cincy’s own successful businesswomen.”

  Beaming, the woman gracefully sat in the chair at the head of the low table. “Let’s be honest, Piscary. I’m Cincy’s only successful businesswoman,” she said as she coyly played with her pearls, the white orbs seeming to flow like bubbles around the tattoo of a koi on her neck. “But that’s going to change. My daughter will soon give the men in the boardroom something to chase.” Her head tilted as she accepted the glass that Colonel Wolfe handed her. “Thank you,” she said as he settled in to stand behind her, not in protection as much as . . . unity.

  “You’re Weres,” Daniel whispered, then flushed as everyone in the room looked at him, shocked that he’d named them, calling out the truth of their heritage. It was probably the first time they’d heard it spoken aloud so brazenly.

  “And you are . . . a human,” Mrs. Ray said, a lifetime of hiding making her reluctant to say the words aloud. Expression cross, she turned to Piscary. “You brought us together to witness a minor breaking of the silence? Piscary, we all have full plates right now.”

  Daniel leaned across the bar to Trisk. “I thought Weres were rough. You know, like bikers and hippies,” he whispered, and Trisk cringed.

  Mrs. Ray made a delicate snort. “And we have excellent hearing,” she said, then added, “The higher your pack status, the more refined you tend to be.”

  Red-faced at having been overheard, Daniel pulled himself straighter. “Then you both must be alphas,” he said, and Mrs. Ray beamed, clearly liking him.

  Wolfe strode forward with a military precision. “I’ll do it,” he said shortly.

  “No!” Trisk slid from the stool, her hand outstretched.

  Orchid was suddenly in the air, a dangerous red dust spilling from her. “You go through me, puppy,” she said, and the Were stopped short, the threat well taken. Daniel had backed to the shelves of bottles, his face ashen as he stared at the military man’s hands, clenched into fists. What was he going to do? Choke Daniel to death? Trisk thought. Professor Thole eyed them both, two full shot glasses in hand.

  “You are all my guests,” Piscary said, voice low but demanding. “Wolfe, Dr. Plank is exempt for the moment. If he’s to die for having witnessed a breaking of the silence, I claim him as a blood slave. God knows I’m going to need them if this plague continues.”

  Daniel edged closer. “He’s kidding, right?” he asked, and Trisk gave him a sick smile.

  Wolfe frowned when Orchid landed on Daniel’s shoulder like a tiny lioness protecting her territory. “Why am I here if it is not to maintain the silence?” the colonel asked, sullenly sitting on the end of the couch beside Mrs. Ray when she patted the cushion in invitation.

  Piscary sat as well, leaving Rynn Cormel to loom over Kal and Ulbrine on the opposite couch. Professor Thole remained behind the bar with Daniel, arms crossed as he leaned back against the shelves. “I want Inderland to know the truth of where this plague began,” Piscary said, and all eyes went to Ulbrine. “Seeing as it landed on my doorstep, I asked you in.”

  Ulbrine’s expression became a study in controlled anger. “You shouldn’t have run, Trisk,” he said coldly. “Only the guilty run.”

  “I wasn’t running away,” she said, voice even. “I was running toward something.”

  Kal sat deep in the cushions, his arms defiantly over his chest. “Am I being detained?”

  “I prefer to think of you as my guest,” Piscary said. “But you will remain until I hear the truth.”

  Ulbrine pushed himself to the edge of the couch. “I told you what happened,” he said irately. “Dr. Kalamack was to check that Dr. Cambri’s work made Dr. Plank’s tactical virus safe for Inderlanders. Before Kal could tell me his disastrous findings, the virus escaped and spontaneously attached to the tomato she was working on.”

  “And that’s why he signed off on it the day before it went rogue?” Trisk said. “Why he cleared the PTV going to live trials? There was no connection point between Daniel’s virus and the T4 Angel until he made it,” she said, looking at Kal. Damn it, is that a smirk?

  “Clearly she gave Dr. Plank’s virus the same attachment points as her tomato,” Ulbrine continued, ignoring her. “Cutting corners and resulting in the plague we’re now forced to deal with. It was an error, but an innocent one.”

  “Bull pucky!” Trisk exploded. “Kal intentionally made a bridge between our two products. I could tell you how if he hadn’t destroyed my lab and all the evidence.”

  Ulbrine spread his hands to the assembled Inderland representatives. “Clearly she shouldn’t have been allowed to work without supervision. But she’s a good researcher and I’m sure she’ll work to see an end to the plague. I apologize for her lack of experience. It was my fault. I put her in that position.”

  You little bastard, she thought, seething as Daniel reached across the bar and she pushed his calming hand from her.

  Professor Thole was sourly eyeing Trisk over his glasses. “You allowed a tactical virus to attach to your tomato? That is a stupid error.”

  Furious, Trisk took a breath to tell them all to go to hell, her words catching when Rynn put a finger to his lips. Slowly she exhaled, no less angry but trusting his half-hidden smile.

  “Trisk is telling the truth,” Orchid said, and Kal’s eyes shot murderously to the pixy. “I was there when Kal made the bridge between the virus and tomato.”

  Ulbrine stiffened in the sudden silence. Orchid’s wings turned pink as she blushed at everyone’s eyes on her. “I don’t fly in your garden anymore, Kalamack,” she said, bobbing up and down to make her dress waft. “You told me you wanted to prove her work was dangerous and yours was safe. If you cared about what was safe, you wouldn’t have promised Saladan you’d give him manufacture and distribution of Trisk’s other work.”

  “He did what!” Trisk exclaimed.

  “You did it to hurt her, Kal,” Orchid said, her dust so bright it was hard to look at. “To help yourself, not help your people.”

  “You’re going to take the word of a pixy over mine?” Ulbrine said, but he was sweating, and Piscary casually reached out, catching Orchid’s foot as she flew murderously at Ulbrine. Fuming, she backwashed in her own dust, shrilling at Piscary to let her go.

  Ulbrine stood, his expression drawn. “Release Dr. Cambri into my custody. I’ll see about beginning to mend this,” he said, but the Weres had their heads together, whispering, and Professor Thole’s lips were pursed in thought as he stood behind the bar with Daniel.

  “I have a doubt,” Piscary said, voice mocking and low.

  “The proof was destroyed in the fire. A fire she set,” Ulbrine said, and Kal stood, only to be shoved back down by Rynn Cormel.

  “This is outrageous!” Ulbrine said, fuming when Piscary’s brown eyes flashed black. “I demand you release Dr. Kalamack and Dr. Cambri to me.”

  “Demand?” Piscary said, so still on the couch that he didn’t look real anymore.

  Ulbrine’s eyes narrowed, and Trisk stiffened as she felt the enclave member tap a line.

  “Perhaps you’re right,” Piscary said, and Daniel exhaled at the visible easing of tension in not only Ulbrine, but the Weres and Cormel. From behind the bar, Professor Thole fingered a worn ley line charm. “I was dearly hoping to avoid this,” Piscary continued, “but as you say, the evidence of who tampered with the connection points between the species was destroyed in a fire. I have no problem with the testimony of a pixy
, but others will.”

  “Thank you, Piscary,” Orchid said primly, flying back to sit on Daniel’s shoulder.

  “Then you release them to me?” Ulbrine asked, his smile faltering when Piscary’s attention went to the far corner of the room.

  “Rick?” the master vampire called, and Trisk’s eyes shot to the bandaged man in the wheelchair. Her jaw went slack as she remembered what Niles had said when he tried to burn them alive in her truck. My God, Rick was burned into his second life? Undead vampires did not feel love, but they did feel pain.

  Ulbrine sat down fast, his expression empty as Leo wheeled the bandaged man forward.

  “Rick?” Daniel said, and the figure shifted a wrapped hand up in acknowledgment. “The news said you were dead!”

  “I am,” Rick rasped, and Trisk blanched when a weird, wispy burbling rose up. He was laughing. “I am,” he continued, the awful noise gurgling to nothing. “Kal burned me alive when I realized he’d tampered with the Angel tomato and Dr. Plank’s PTV. He hid within his circle when fire dripped from the ceiling like liquid sun. He watched me burn, and did nothing.”

  Trisk shuddered when the white-wrapped figure turned to Kal, the hunger and hatred behind the bandages easy to see. The black orbs rimmed by red didn’t even look like his eyes anymore. “You think your journey here was painful?” Rick rasped, his beautiful voice gone. “Perhaps someday I will thank you for moving me to my second life. But not today.”

  Professor Thole’s fingers began to drum on the bar. Ulbrine began to distance himself from Kal, and seeing it, Piscary frowned. “I’m sorry, Rick. Thank you,” Piscary said as he gestured for Leo to take him out.

  Rick’s eerie, rasping laughter hissed over them all, and Daniel turned to Piscary, his face white. “Is he going to be okay?”

  Piscary seemed surprised by the question. “It remains to be seen. His insurance will be sufficient to set him up safely from the sun, but he has no scion to see to his other needs. If he does not find one soon, the blood he takes from my family will no longer support him. He can’t hope to win his own scion while burned. It was an ill-timed death. Niles is most upset.”