by Ruby Loren
Once she was sure that the vampire-witch wasn’t going to say any more, she smiled as brightly as she could at James and Ollie. “We’d love to join the band!”
6
Hairs rose on the back of January’s neck when she stepped out into the dark of the evening. She paused before shutting the car door, wondering what it was. Immediately, her thoughts went to bounty hunters. She extended every sense she possessed to uncover the source of the unsettling feeling.
January made a sound of annoyance when her efficient ears heard a twig snap. Someone, or something, was running back through the forest away from her house. She’d been being watched, but by whom? She immediately thought about telling Ryan before remembering, with a bump, that he wasn’t hers to tell anymore.
The sound of rushing air and feet moving faster than humanly possible made her tense up. Vampire! Her mind screamed. She prepared as best as she could to finally face against The Clan of ancient vampires, who must be about to arrive to kill her. Something in her heart whispered she was going to lose. She wondered if she should be running instead. Too late now.
The running blur came to a halt in front of her. January suddenly realised she couldn’t see any magical aura. Idiot! She chided herself for not running the simplest of checks. If she carried on this way, just about anyone could bump her off.
“What’s up?” She asked, recognising the young, female vampire, as one of Gregory’s bar staff from The Witch’s Wand. The vampire brushed her long, slightly curling, auburn hair away from her face and sighed, looking seriously put out. January’s eyebrows shot up.
“Gregory Drax seeks to invite you to his birthday celebrations, which are taking place tonight.”
January snorted with laughter. She couldn’t help it.
The vampire looked even more furious.
“Why couldn’t he just send me a text?” She asked.
“I know, right? He totally needs to get with the twenty first century!” The vampire said, slipping out of formal speech and into her natural speech patterns. It was a dead giveaway of her true age. The new vampire flicked her hair off her face for the umpteenth time and rolled her eyes heavenwards. “Apparently I’m meant to make sure you accept the invitation. Mr Drax must be joking, right? Who the hell would ever say no to him? I mean, he’s a vampire!” She said, seeming to forget that she was one too.
January tried not to smile. She had no doubt that one day a few things would click into place for this new vamp and she’d be mortified by this conversation.
“What’s your name?” She asked, curious about the person Gregory had sent to fetch her.
“Violet,”the vampire replied, frowning a little and taking her phone out to check it, despite being in the middle of a conversation with a shifter.
In the end, that was probably the reason why she said yes. She couldn’t give a vampire this naïve any trouble. It just wasn’t fair.
It was only halfway through January’s car journey to The Witch’s Wand when she realised that her having that reaction was probably exactly why Gregory had sent his young prodigy.
“I’m going to stake him!” She muttered.
Violet shot her a shocked look. Insulting Gregory Drax wasn’t something many people could do and keep breathing afterwards.
“Oh… I’m not really dressed…” January said when she pulled up in the car park of The Witch’s Wand and saw the swathes of satin and silk that Gregory’s attendees were all wearing. They must have glamoured the usual pseudo-goths to stay away tonight, as these visitors were clearly of a very different ilk. January stepped out of the car and wrinkled her nose at the dry, dead smell of vampire.
“Mr Drax has taken care of that, too. If you follow me round the back, you can change in his office,” Violet said, practically shepherding January around the vampires, so she wouldn’t offend them with her out of place dress sense.
January tried not to fume too visibly. Gregory had planned every bit of this, and she had a feeling that his scheming for the evening wasn’t finished. After all, he must have a reason for wanting to invite the black unicorn, a scary vampire bedtime story, into a nest full of vampires. Unfortunately, she was going to have to find out his plans the hard way.
“Here you go. Have fun,” Violet said, throwing open the door to Gregory’s office.
January was relieved to find it didn’t contain Gregory. What it did contain was an absolutely beautiful dress. It was jet black with the faintest blue sheen that reminded January of her coat when she was in her second form. January snorted, realising that this was no doubt Gregory’s intention. Things were starting to come together now. He wanted to parade her around at his party to show everyone that she was on his side and, presumably, working for him. Everyone would do his bidding if they thought that he was the one holding her leash.
“I’ll show you I’m not on anyone’s leash,” she said aloud.
Her eyes roamed up and down the dress and she decided she would put it on… just to see.
“Curses!” She muttered when she looked into the full length mirror that had been deliberately ‘accidentally’ left in the room. She looked stunning. The black dress had been cut on the bias, so that its fine satin flowed perfectly down her body. The low cut rear of the dress showed off her toned back, and the length of the dress – longer than anything she’d ever have picked out for herself – somehow managed to make her look slim and slinky, instead of her usual, well-muscled curves. January’s eyes fell on a pale, luminescent box. She flipped the lid and stared at the pair of black stilettos. Their points were sharper than usual and had a curious spiral design to the tapered tip.
“Really, Gregory? Unicorn horn shoes? Really?” She rolled her eyes and almost walked out of the room still wearing the practical ankle boots she’d worn to go up to London. The mirror caught her eye again and she realised she couldn’t do it to the dress. It was all or nothing. If things get really bad, I can always stab him through the heart with these stupid shoes, she reassured herself.
January walked into The Witch’s Wand, trying not to show her surprise at the change in décor. Either Gregory had an extremely speedy and competent design team, or the walls of the pub actually revolved. The faux medieval trappings had been replaced with deep blue, satin drapes. Elegant, exotic flowers and deliciously scented candles were also present in abundance. The pub smelt like a summer garden and it was so inviting, January could almost overlook the pervasive smell of vampire.
“Weird,” she said aloud, finding the absolute absence of food rather glaring. She looked around the room and spotted the food source for the night. A group of well-dressed humans were penned off behind some rope. She could instinctively tell they were human because they lacked the indefinable elegance of the vampires.
“You. Get me a drink.”
January turned round and discovered she was face to face with a blonde vampire, sporting an exceedingly intricate hairstyle. She was even more surprised to discover that they were the same height. January blinked as she thought over the vampire’s instruction. Did she think she worked here?
“I don’t work here,” she said, as cuttingly as possible and turned away.
Where the hell was Gregory? She could see a mountain of presents that had been left for him but no sign of the vampire himself. If he thought he could dare to invite her and then not even bother…
“You will do what I say,” the intricately styled and increasingly rude vampire said, her hand going to wrench January’s shoulder around, but January turned faster.
“Why will I do that?” She asked, feeling curious. This was all kinds of odd. The vampire wasn’t using any glamour on her.
“Because I outrank you!” The vampire hissed back, her cheeks flushing.
January tried not to feel grossed out by that falsely human reaction. It meant she’d had something to drink very recently indeed.
“I’m the most important vampire here,” the vampire continued.
January started to notice that
their interaction was now being observed by several nearby parties.
Something clicked in January’s mind. Somehow, this vampire hadn’t worked out what she truly was. She turned her attention to the candles, using witch sight, and saw a faint blue glow emanating from them. She had a shrewd idea now that the scent of the room was doing more than just creating ambience.
“You’re not above Gregory, are you?” January asked, figuring it was unlikely to be the case. If she were higher ranking, and therefore more important than Gregory, she would already be dead. January would have been sent to kill her. Unless she’s one of The Clan! January’s mind popped up. She dismissed the thought. If The Clan were paying a visit, they wouldn’t be demanding drinks from her, or mooching around at a vampire’s birthday party.
“No, no one is more important than Gregory, of course. That’s why we’re all here,” the blonde vampire said, through seriously gritted teeth.
January hoped there weren’t too many sharp objects around, or Gregory may find a few of them between his shoulder blades before the end of the night. Come to think of it, perhaps that’s why all of the medieval axes and maces were missing.
“Get some exercise and get your own drink. Exercise is good for someone of your very advanced age,” January said, as flippantly as possible. Gregory had invited her here, forced her to wear a dress and some stupid shoes, and he couldn’t even be bothered to say hello. She was going to have to make her own fun…
“How dare you!” The vampire said.
January waited for her to lunge forwards so she could test out the pushing spell Tor had taught her. She’d demolished a wall with it and was curious what effect it would have on a ‘high ranking’ vampire.
“January! I’ve been looking all over for you,” Gregory said, sounding calm and collected as usual. He shot her a sideways look from his storm grey eyes. January smirked. It was the only sign she had that Gregory was seriously sweating it.
He slipped an arm around her shiny, satin waist. January resisted the urge to push him off. It was his birthday after all.
“Ella, this is January,” he said.
The blonde vampire stared at her. January stared back.
“Who is she?” The vampire asked Gregory, deliberately not addressing January.
January tilted her head at Gregory, wondering what the answer to that question would be.
“January Chevalier, black unicorn shapeshifter. You know - the one who killed all of those vampires?” Gregory’s face was deadpan and January kept hers expressionless, too. How should she react to that? There were audible gasps around the room.
Ella stopped looking so snooty and instead looked scared. But then… curious. “She doesn’t look like much,” the blonde vampire commented. January suddenly wished she was ten foot tall and had sharp fangs, instead of white blonde curls.
“Lots of other vampires thought exactly the same thing as you did,” January butted in. She smiled sweetly at Ella.
“Well, that’s enough chit-chat. January, let’s go and sit somewhere private. I have a lot I want to discuss with you…” Gregory said, letting his voice trail off in a highly suggestive way.
January was pleased that her annoyance at being used this way trumped her usual blushing reaction. It was exactly as she had suspected. Gregory wanted all of his high and mighty friends to see that he had her on his side. If only they knew! She thought and then stopped herself.
Technically, she was on his side, wasn’t she? She’d had the ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card of killing Gregory offered to her a couple of times and she’d never accepted it. Whether she liked it or not, she and Gregory had been through enough together to inspire a bond of loyalty.
A bond he wasn’t at all afraid to milk, she observed when his hand slid below her waist.
She glared at him. “An inch lower and my stiletto ends up in a place where no stiletto should ever go…”
Gregory flashed her a slightly pointy smile. “I didn’t realise you were in the mood to flirt,” he batted back.
January felt her fists ball up. Why was he being so annoying tonight? “What do you want, Gregory? I understand that you brought me here so I could impress and intimidate all of your vampire buddies, but is there something else, too?” She asked. With Gregory it was a question you should always be thinking about. His schemes usually had multiple facets.
“What if I just really wanted to share my birthday with someone who isn’t hell bent on sucking up to me?” He asked, his eyes sincere.
January felt a stab of guilt but then crushed it. He was doing this deliberately.
“I also wanted to see you in that dress,” he added, running a hand through his blonde hair and allowing his fangs to slide out a little more. January felt like her head was going to explode with conflicting emotions.
She’d had enough of vampires.
“Hey! You’re January, aren’t you?”
January turned around, instinctively drawing her magic around her, though she wasn’t sure why. There was a man standing just outside the VIP area she and Gregory were seated in.
As soon as she saw the speaker, she nearly fell off her chair in shock. To the untrained eye, he looked like an average guy in his early thirties, with a severe side parting and thick-framed glasses. He would have looked more at home screaming abuse over the internet whilst playing Call of Duty than in the middle of a vampire party.
What made her chest clench with worry was the bright red aura of magic that hung over him.
She had a split second of advantage left. Did she change in the middle of the party and fight?
“Who are you?” She said, standing up and holding a defensive posture instead. Any split second of surprise was lost, but she really wanted to know the answer to that question. She’d never seen someone as brim full of magic as this man. Anyway, what if he was on her side?
The nerdy man’s mouth curved up and he flashed her a buck-toothed smile. “I’m your worst nightmare,” he said.
January inwardly sighed. She should have known he wouldn’t be on her side. Good stuff like that never seemed to happen.
Gregory laughed and then tilted his head at January to see why she wasn’t laughing, too. It meant he didn’t see the magic man’s eyes narrow - but January did. She threw her instinctive enchanter’s magic in front of Gregory, just as crimson barbs shot out, all aiming for Gregory’s heart. January tried not to wince at the feel of them punching into her magic. It felt like she’d been impaled, but the barbs were gone and Gregory was still sitting there.
The newcomer stuck his bottom lip out and frowned. “Boring!” He said, crossing his arms.
January tried not to gape.
“What…” Gregory’s eyes were wide, as he tried to comprehend what had just happened that he hadn’t seen. He had no clue how close he’d come to death.
“Just add it to the tally,” January said, dryly. As far as she knew, neither of them really had any idea of who’d saved the other’s life more times. At least, she didn’t. Gregory may actually write it all down.
“As I was saying… I’m the most famous witch in the world.” The man looked at January expectantly, and then at Gregory.
They looked back.
“The Marvellous… Mike?” January suggested.
“No! Really? I mean you really don’t know?” The man pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.
January shook her head, wondering if she should apologise.
“God, that is SO annoying!” He said, sighing so heavily that he dislodged a few strands of hair from his side parting. They flopped down over his forehead. “I’m Bob El Muerto, the King Magician.”
“King Magician?” January queried.
“Bob El Muerto? That doesn’t sound real…” Gregory unhelpfully added, which only served to make ‘Bob’ turn a shade that almost matched the crimson of his magic.
“Yah, King Magician, as in - I am the King. I’m the best. I’m the baddest. Everyone who stands against me
meets a horrible, sticky end!” Bob raised his hands and allowed his crimson magic to wind through his fingers, giving him the appearance of having giant, red claws - as far as January was concerned anyway. Gregory probably thought he was just waving his arms around.
“Well, I won’t be getting in your way then,” January said. “Nice to meet you, King Bob.”
“Whoa, hold it right there!” Bob put a hand in front of January and then pulled it back, looking embarrassed that he might have actually touched her. “You are in my way. People are saying that you’re the best, not me. I can’t have that. I’m the best, so you have to go. There are rumours about what you may, or may not be. People say you pulled some neat trick, where you ripped a really bad ass witch’s magic out from the bones of a werewolf. That’s some crazy stuff that shouldn’t even be, like, possible. So you’ve either got something crazy goin’ on, or you’re all hype and no bite.”
January’s eyebrows shot up. This night was only getting stranger. “Look, could I maybe write some kind of disclaimer that says you’re better than me? I’m completely okay with you being King. I’m happy staying here, running the pack and you know… keeping to myself,” she explained.
Bob frowned and scratched his head. “Oh… hmmm,” he said and for a moment, January thought she might get away without having to add another person to her ever growing list of ‘people who want to kill you’. She was actually considering writing it all down. It was getting pretty hard to remember.
“You need to be dead or it’s not for sure. This is your heads-up. I’ll be waiting to pounce, so you’d better be ready!” Bob spun on his heel. January suspected he wished he was wearing a cape for an extra exciting exit. Perhaps she’d suggest it to him the next time they met.
“Thanks for the warning, King Bob,” she called after him. Hey, it was more assistance than she usually got.
“So, what was that about?” Gregory asked, standing a little too close behind her after Bob had walked out.