“How old is this vampire, exactly?”
“I have no idea. Old enough to be a little crazy,” Shane said with a shrug.
“How do you know him?” she asked, glancing at him curiously.
“I was an omega briefly when my original pack fell apart. I ended up in a less than savory crowd. We used to get things for him.” Shane’s shoulders tightened at whatever memories that question had brought up.
“Ah,” she said, letting the conversation drop. He was already pissed enough at her without her pressing him on an obviously sensitive topic.
“It’s that gate.”
A chain link fence topped with barbed wire protected an old, brick building. It was unmarked, and every window had been boarded up. A man in a hoodie with his face and hands covered lounged near the gate, watching them. She turned into the short driveway and stopped, rolling down her window.
The man strolled over, tugging down the bandana that covered his face a little. He was pale, his eyes were a light almost golden color, but the teeth were what really gave it away. When he grinned, his sharp incisors were impossible to hide.
Vampires could go out in the sun with the right spell to protect them, but they’d still get a nasty sunburn in about an hour if they didn’t keep their skin covered.
“Shane Weston, it’s been a few years,” the guard said, resting his forearms on the window ledge and leaning farther into the truck than Amber was comfortable with.
“Yet, you’re still out here doing the grunt work,” Shane said, returning the smile. All the tension was gone from his posture now. Even his heartbeat was slower. She had no idea how he did that, but she needed to learn that trick.
The vampire, of course, had no heartbeat which was creepy as hell now that she was used to hearing them.
“Ah, you know how it is. I like to party, and Bram doesn’t like it when I party.”
“Is that what you call those ragers? Parties?” Shane asked, raising a brow.
“Psh,” the vampire said, waving a hand at Shane. “Semantics. Anyhow, you didn’t come by just to see me. What do you need today?”
“I need to talk to Bram.”
The vampire glanced at Amber. “Her too?”
“Yes,” Amber said, answering for herself.
The vampire shook his head with a laugh. “Your funeral.” He pushed off the truck and walked over to the gate, unlocking with a key he kept in his pocket.
“What does he mean ‘your funeral’?” Amber asked, looking at Shane suspiciously.
“He’s just goading me. Mostly. Bram can be weird about new people. He’s slightly obsessed with…blood,” Shane said, grimacing.
“Aren’t all vampires?” The gate slid open and she drove through, parking in the only open spot.
“Not like this. You can tell him no when he asks for…well, you’ll see…” he trailed off with a guilty expression, “but he will definitely be more cooperative if you say yes.”
“You could have told me that before you brought me here,” she said, a little angry that he hadn’t warned her before they were driving through the gate.
“I had a lot on my mind,” Shane said sarcastically.
They climbed out of the truck and she followed him toward the front door, where another guard sat. This one wasn’t a vampire though. She was a werewolf.
The woman rose as they approached and opened the door. “I’d say it’s good to see you again, Shane, but since you’re just here for business…” She shrugged and gave Amber a curious look.
“Sorry, Bella, I’ll try to make one of the game nights sometime. Being Jameson’s beta doesn’t leave me with a whole lot of free time.”
“Excuses, excuses,” Bella said, waving them inside. “Have fuuuun.”
Amber stepped into the dimly lit building and almost gagged as the scent hit her. Blood, both old and fresh, was all she could smell. Her hand shook as she covered her mouth and nose, trying to breathe shallowly.
Her ears buzzed with the pop of gunfire and Tommy’s frantic howls. She tasted blood in her mouth. Felt it dripping from her muzzle. Red tinted her vision as she lunged at the last attacker.
“Are you okay?” Shane asked, pressing his hand against her back.
His touch shocked her out of the flashback and she forced herself to focus on the concrete under her feet and the light scent of his cologne.
“I’m fine,” she said sharply. She wasn’t. She needed to get out of here, but running away wasn’t going to make those memories go away. “Let’s just go.”
Shane kept his hand on her back, something she would have objected to at any other time. Right now, it was the only thing keeping her from bolting.
The hallway led into the open lower floor of the building. It had been some kind of manufacturing business in the past, but all the machinery had been taken out and replaced with clutter. Couches were placed haphazardly around the room. Most looked like they’d been reclaimed from dumpsters. A few people were sleeping on them, curled up without a blanket or pillow.
There was a huge flat screen tv hung from one of the walls. A troll rugby game, that was playing silently on it, was the only source of light down here.
She expected Shane to lead her toward the rickety stairs that led up to the second level, but he took her down instead.
“In the basement? Really? That’s borderline cliche,” she muttered as they descended into the narrow stairwell.
“It’s easier to block the light down here.”
“Is he that worried about a sunburn?”
“Bram refuses to use the protective spells,” Shane said, his voice suggesting this was an old argument he’d had many times.
There was a chuckle ahead of them and the door at the bottom of the stairs opened, revealing a tall, thin vampire –– there was no doubt in her mind that he was a vampire, even without the teeth visible –– wearing a pair of black leather pants and…nothing else.
“I’m a vampire. Why would I want to prance around in the sun like some sparkly elf?” He waved them down, his ropey muscles flexing under skin so pale it was almost white.
“No one is suggesting you go sunbathing, Bram, but knowing that you won’t burst into flames at the first lick of sunlight is a nice reassurance for most vampires.”
Bram pulled Shane into a hug at the bottom of the stairs. Amber kept her distance. It was obvious Shane liked the weird, old vampire. He seemed eccentric, but not too dangerous.
“Come in, then you can introduce me to your friend,” Bram said as he waved them inside.
Amber walked in and looked around. The place was covered in paintings. They were all the same color, a kind of sepia-toned red. Bram seemed to have an obsession with portraits. All of the faces stared out at her. Some angry, some happy, some terrified. She walked over to one still sitting on an easel and leaned in for a better look. That’s when she realized…it wasn’t paint that he used. It was blood.
“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he whispered from right behind her.
She jumped and whirled around, coming face to face with the artist himself. “You paint them with blood?”
“Yes, their own blood. Art is a kind of magic all its own. The sacrifice makes it even more special,” Bram said with a grin. His eyes were so light that his iris blended into the rest of his eye at the edges.
Shane cleared his throat. “This is Amber. She’s ––”
“The bitten werewolf who became an alpha. I know.” Bram finally turned away. He walked over to a long workbench piled with supplies and picked up an apron. It used to be white, but was now streaked with red. “I am curious what she might need from me though.”
“What do you know about demons?” Shane asked.
Bram looked thoughtful, and slightly surprised at the question. “Not terribly friendly, similarly afflicted to not walk the earth while the sun is up, and rather long-lived. They’ve also been recently accused of destroying magic, though I doubt that.” He grabbed a packet off the workbench that Am
ber immediately recognized. It was a blood draw kit.
The vampire walked toward her, watching her expression carefully. “I think I know what you’re concerned about, and I’m happy to answer your questions, and keep the knowledge that you were here to myself, if…”
“If I give you some blood,” Amber finished for him.
He smiled. “I simply want to do your portrait.”
She ground her teeth together, but nodded. It was creepy, but it’s not like it would kill her. He directed her to sit down in an armchair next to a table, then sat across from her and opened the kit. She laid her arm on the table and tried to focus on slowing her heart rate, but this whole process made her feel slightly ill.
He pulled out the needle and adjusted the angle of her arm.
“I’d rather do it myself, actually.” She snatched the needle from his hand and clenched her hand into a fist to make the vein on the inside of her arm pop, then slid it in smoothly.
He watched her, swaying slightly as the blood began to pump into the tube. His eyes were locked onto her arm as though he were hypnotized. “This is even better, you doing it yourself.”
“Do you realize how creepy you sound, or do you just not care?” She switched to the second vial. Only three more to go.
“Oh, I just don’t care.” His lips curled up into a smile and he dragged his eyes away from her arm to look at her. “You don’t strike me as a drug addict. How did you learn to do this?”
“I’m a nurse. Or was. I got fired after I was bitten.”
“Ah, yes. Those are some silly laws. I’m surprised they haven’t been overturned yet.”
She switched to the third vial and Bram grabbed the first two, carrying them over to the long, paint-splattered bench near the wall. He dumped the contents into a small bowl, using a thin piece of plastic to carefully scrape out every last drop.
Amber glanced back at Shane, who had on a neutral expression. How many times had he watched Bram do this? Had he let Bram do it to him?
Bram hummed happily as she disconnected the final vial. There was a band-aid sitting on top of the other supplies. She grabbed it and opened it with her teeth, then quickly slipped out the needle and tried to put on the band-aid, but it went crooked.
Shane startled her when he grabbed it. “You looked like you could use a little help.” His hands were steady as he pressed the band-aid on.
“Thanks.”
Bram collected the other vials and dropped them in the pocket of his apron. He looked more like a butcher than a painter splattered with all that blood.
“What do you know about Zachariah Hudson?” Amber asked, sitting on the edge of the armchair. She felt restless and wanted out of this room.
The vampire adjusted his canvas and began painting. “Well, he’s a half-angel that works for the angels as far as anyone can tell. Their organization is perfectly above board in all their dealings, which I find terribly suspicious. No one is that perfect.”
“Have any new sorcerers showed up in town recently?”
He switched brushes, dipping it in water this time before adding the blood. “Hmm, I’d say so. Lockhart having his heart cut out was a dead giveaway,” he said, smirking at his own pun.
“Do you know where the sorcerer is?” Shane asked, pacing the edge of the room.
“I find it interesting that you ask about demons first, then an angel, then a sorcerer. It’s as if you think they’re all connected,” Bram mused, ignoring Shane’s question.
Amber resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “Maybe they are. Have you ever talked to a demon?”
“Yes, a few times. We used to summon them for fun.” Bram switched paintbrushes again and leaned in close to the canvas. “They’re very interesting. Determined to get you to agree to a favor, of course, but not nearly so menacing as most people would have you believe.”
Summoning demons for fun…who the hell was this guy? Amber dragged her hands through her hair and shook her head in disbelief. “Have you ever heard of someone that was only half demon?”
“I’ve heard rumors, but I’ve never met anyone that was that sort of hybrid. It kind of makes you wonder though, doesn’t it? There are so many half angels running around, but no half demons,” he mused.
“This sorcerer, do you know his name?” Amber asked.
“Interesting you’d assume it was a man,” Bram said, his eyes flicking to her for a moment.
“I saw him in the woods. I know he’s a man.”
“Ah, of course, my mistake. I believe he goes by Caligo. Sometimes they leave their real names behind in order to seem more mysterious, or simply to maintain their anonymity.”
Amber narrowed her eyes at him. It felt like he meant something else. She didn’t think there were two sorcerers. Donovan had been killed right before this guy had showed up. It had to be him.
“Have you sold anything to him?” Shane asked.
Bram shook his head. “No, not directly at least. It’s possible some of my regular clients worked as a middle man.” The vampire looked at Amber again. “Siobhan, for example. She also recently started asking around about a sorcerer. I believe she’s your witch’s cousin, right?”
Amber nodded. This guy seemed to know everyone. “I saw her yesterday.”
“It was a smart choice to speak with her. She might be able to find him faster. A lot of paranormals owe her favors these days.” He switched brushes again, a disturbing smile forming on his face.
“You never did answer my question about where the sorcerer is. Do you know?” Shane pressed. He looked as impatient as she felt.
“It makes you uncomfortable, doesn’t it?” Bram asked with a broad grin. “You look like you’d rather rip off my head than stay in this room for another minute.”
Amber curled her hand into a fist. “The thought has crossed my mind.”
Bram threw his head back and laughed. “Shane, you can’t handle this one, but I like her.”
Amber glanced at Shane, who looked slightly embarrassed. He crossed his arms and sighed. “Can you answer our questions, or not?”
“Still so impatient,” Bram grumbled. “And of course I can, however, I doubt you’ll like my answers.”
“Why is that?” Amber asked, trying to encourage the crazy old bat to get to the point.
“Because it won’t help you.” He dabbed the paint brush into the little cup of blood and added a final flourish to his macabre painting, then spun it around.
Amber stared at her likeness, painted in her own blood, and felt sick. Her eyes were striking, probably more so than in real life. Her face was tight with repressed anger and he’d made her hair look like flames wrapping around her head. She looked dangerous.
“What do you think?” he asked eagerly.
“It’s the most awful thing I’ve ever seen,” she said bluntly.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Shane mumbled, dragging his hand down his face.
She glared at him. If Bram hadn’t wanted her honest opinion, he shouldn’t have asked. He didn’t seem offended though, if anything, the answer had delighted him.
“It is awful to see yourself through the eyes of another, isn’t it?” he purred, gazing at his own painting with adoration. “I’m sure that if you could paint me, my portrait would be just as horrifying to me.”
“Somehow I doubt that,” Amber said tiredly. “Look, if you don’t want to give me the answers we came here for, then just say so. But I’m not staying any longer and playing these weird games with you if you can’t tell us anything.”
Bram looked up at her and grinned, revealing twisted yellow teeth. “Of course, of course. I’ve had my fun.” He hopped up from his stool and grabbed a slip of paper. “I don’t know where the sorcerer is staying, but I can tell you exactly where Zachariah Hudson is, and that he purchased a large amount of very odd ingredients from me recently. He wanted it off the record, but he failed to pay the full amount, so I consider any expectation of confidentiality void.”
“What did he buy?” Amber asked as she accepted the note from Bram.
“It’s all in the note, but I found the items particularly interesting. They are all things that could be used in spells, but they are not common ingredients. They’re also normally bought by a witch. Interesting coincidence, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, I do,” Amber said, staring at the list. She looked up, that stupid painting catching her eye for a moment before she forced herself to look at Bram instead. “Thanks for your help.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome. Would you like to keep the painting?”
“Hell no.”
He grinned. “Perhaps you should come back some time, when you hate yourself less. You might find that it has changed.”
Chapter 47
CERI
Ceri parked next to Shane’s suburban and hopped out of her car. Amber had texted her a half hour ago and nearly given her a heart attack.
The council knows I have Evangeline. We’re in deep shit if I can’t prove she’s innocent in a week.
Going to a no magic spot with Shane. Need to see it for myself.
Announcing that the council knew they were harboring a demon in their house required a phone call. That was not a text-and-then-not-respond-to-any-replies kind of situation.
She jogged into the woods, following the path worn by investigators and probably tourists that wanted to see the freaky place where magic didn’t work.
There was police tape around the area, but there weren’t any guards. I guess they figured no one would want to come here. Being near it made her skin crawl. There was something off about the air. A strange smell that made her want to turn and run away. Every instinct she had was warning her against getting any closer.
Amber and Shane were waiting for her right next to the affected zone. Her alpha looked particularly grumpy, which she'd expected. She'd never seen Shane look so irritable though. He'd always been sunny and happy, even before the Trials.
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