"Where's Kory?" I asked.
"In the bathroom," the man ran fingers through dark hair, mussing it up.
"All right. I have stuff for sandwiches, or I can throw pasta together, but that's all I have right now," I said.
"Pasta? I'm Watson, by the way," he held out a hand.
"Nice to meet you," I said as we shook.
"This is Mason," he pointed a finger at his vampire companion. "In case he hasn't told you. He's pretty close-mouthed."
"Mason," I nodded to the vamp. He offered a lopsided grin and lifted his coffee cup in a salute. "I'm Lexsi," I introduced myself. "This is Rick," I pointed in the proper direction. "Anita, Farin and Tiburon," I finished the introductions.
"I know Tiburon—from his boxing matches," Mason nodded. "Damn good fighter."
"Thanks, man," Tiburon said. "I guess I ought to check in with my manager, in case he gets worried." He pulled a cell phone from a pocket and walked toward the living area to make his call in private.
"Farin," Anita turned toward her, "I hope you understand that you can't talk about vampires outside present company," she laid the obsession. "You, too, Rick. No talking about vampires. You'll die if you do—they're sort of murderous that way."
"Werewolves, too," Mason pointed out. Anita laid a second obsession, covering werewolves and shapeshifters.
"Not all vamps are bad," Mason said. He didn't understand what Anita had done, but as Farin and Rick had nodded like bobble-heads both times, he felt it safer to speak, now. "It's like anything else—a few bad apples ruin it for the rest."
"Do you know how scary that is? Vampires," Farin shivered again at the word.
"Most of 'em—you won't even know," Watson observed. "It's the bad ones who show you what they are—just before they uh, well."
"Nice work, fur-butt," Mason muttered.
* * *
Kordevik
I'd already punched four vamps in the face, knocking them through ordinary walls as I raced through Granger's house. Sure, their skin was smoking from the brief contact with my fists, but I didn't really care.
If Granger thought he was at the top of the food chain, it was time for him to learn better. Somewhere along my way to the lowest level of the house, the vamps started shooting. At least one bullet ricocheted off my left horn.
It barely slowed me down.
Then, when they learned they couldn't shoot me with normal weapons—well, they could but it didn't pierce my scales—they attempted to swarm me.
I don't know how many of Granger's vamps died that night, but it was quite a few. Vamps burn fast when a High Demon turns up the heat. By the time I got to the basement, however, I found Mike—and Vann—both bleeding profusely from numerous cuts.
The vamps thought to have fun with them before killing them outright.
This was also where I'd be vulnerable for a few seconds; I heard more vamps running when I turned off my heat, snatched up Vann and Mike and skipped to the nearest emergency room.
Mike, who was limping, had to drag an unresponsive Vann through the sliding doors; I stepped away from the light long enough to ensure they made it into the ER entrance before skipping back to Lexsi's place. I took a cold shower to remove blood residue, then dressed in the clothing I'd left behind in the bedroom.
* * *
Lexsi
I was called to the station roughly half an hour after Kory walked out of the bedroom; he drove me, instead of allowing me to drive myself. A microphone and copy was shoved into my hand and I ended up reporting that Vann Jacobs died at the emergency room while Mike Ellis was in critical condition after being kidnapped and tortured the evening before. The other news I reported was that a large, expensive home in Nob Hill had burned to the ground, but that was secondary to the information on Vann and Mike.
News Seventy-Four had been hit and hit hard; everything now pointed toward Clawdia's Bar and the events there that Mike and Vann had investigated.
I was surprised to find Kory waiting to drive me home around noon the following day; the day crew had taken over and everybody was either in mourning for Vann or pretending to be.
Farin and Anita had gone to work; they weren't at the house when we arrived. Mason was asleep, as any vampire would be during the day, Watson held a cup of coffee in his hand as he wandered silently through the house and Tiburon had called a cab to go home.
Rick was about to leave—he still had a job to do, too, although the area weather wasn't set to change much in the coming days.
"Need to talk, man," Watson told Kory. I didn't care that they needed to talk; I needed a bed and was heading toward mine as fast as I could go. The station manager said he'd call if they needed me to come in for the night news, so I intended to sleep until then.
"Help yourselves to whatever's in the house, I'm going to sleep for a while," I waved an arm in their direction and headed toward my bedroom.
* * *
Kordevik
"Granger's still out there and he's put a price on your head," Watson hissed the second he heard Lexsi's bedroom door close. "He doesn't know what you are, but there's a description out, with a hefty reward."
"He may be running low on vamps at the moment," I yawned and raked fingers through my hair. I wanted sleep, too. I couldn't deny that I wanted to snuggle next to Lexsi and sleep with her.
"I guess it's good that Mike doesn't recall who saved him," Watson mumbled. "If Claudia finds out I told you anything," he didn't finish.
"Then don't let her know. I'm not about to tell her," I said. "Look, put all your concerns together and I'll deal with them when I wake up. Later. Much later."
I ended up in a bedroom across the hall from Lexsi's; I didn't want to be thrown out of the house by sneaking into hers, just so she could wake up next to me.
* * *
Lexsi
I was called in to do the eleven o'clock evening news. Vann's producer, Lee Patrick, said he was already getting calls from the Bay Area, telling him they liked the girl who'd reported the news earlier and they'd asked if I were going to become a regular.
I didn't know how to react to that; a part of me felt good about it. Another part felt guilt about taking Vann's spot, while a third part was scared as hell about being shoved in front of a camera. I thought I'd be doing research and chasing after Vann and Mike for a long time.
All that had changed in less than forty-eight hours.
Condolences were pouring in by the thousands regarding Vann's death, many of them asking if there were going to be a memorial broadcast for him. Lee said it was already in the works and he and the editors were in the process of selecting parts of Vann's best pieces, in addition to some of his quirky outtakes to air.
"We're waiting on some things from the Romes—they knew Vann pretty well," Lee added. "They want to send a few photographs they have of them together."
"I'll make that announcement on the news," I said.
"Perfect. Thanks for stepping in so quickly," Lee offered a weary grin. I could see he had mixed feelings, too, about Vann's passing, and part of that was anger at Vann for having the temerity to die at the height of his popularity.
My anger was directed toward those who'd killed him—or injured him so badly he couldn't survive. Lee had no idea that vampires were involved and I wasn't about to tell him.
After getting some rest earlier, I'd had time to consider how Kory knew a vampire and a werewolf, but that would have to wait. I worried that Rick and Farin could still be targeted, and had no idea what to do about it.
Both were at work, but I was concerned about what could happen when they went home. Mike was under police guard at the hospital, but that wouldn't help him after nightfall when the vamps, all of whom could place compulsion, would still be hunting him.
He wouldn't be hard to find, either. All local news stations had done interviews with doctors at the hospital, asking for updates on his condition.
For now, he was asleep most of the time, with doctors warning visitor
s away. Again, that would last all of ten seconds if a vamp showed up.
It was a relief to put the news to bed that night; I finally had time to go back to my cubicle and check e-mails. I had sixteen messages from Gerta Britt, asking for information on Vann's funeral, where she could send flowers and dozens of other questions about his death.
I sent her a link to the obituary section of Rome Enterprise's online newspaper, telling her that the information she requested would have to be supplied by Vann's family.
He did have family, as it turned out. A brother and two sisters, all of whom were married. Vann was the one who couldn't settle down. He had no children and three ex-wives to prove it.
Lee peered over my cubicle wall as I was mulling the conundrum of Vann's life. "I want you to stay on top of that story—the one Vann and Mike were looking into," he said. "Talk to the police to see what you can get from them, and try to track down the owner of that bar. I want her on camera if at all possible."
My breath stopped for a moment. How could I tell Lee that what he was suggesting could be a death sentence? It had been for Vann, and still could be for Mike. "I have Vann's password, too, so you can follow up on his other leads," Lee added. "We still have calls coming in about dead seals in the bay."
"Of course," I stuttered.
"Do it tomorrow," he said. "Go home and get some decent sleep for now; you've earned it."
"All right." I pushed my chair away from the desk, feeling numb.
* * *
"Mason is at the hospital," Kory said when I slid onto the passenger seat of the van. He'd waited for me—again.
"But why?" I began as Kory put the van in gear and headed for the parking garage entrance.
"He's watching for other vamps to show up—ones who may not be so friendly."
"Oh." I sat with my hands in my lap for several minutes, watching the reflecting highway lines rush past. It was foggy again, so only three lines at a time were visible in the van's headlights.
"How do you happen to know a vamp and a werewolf?" I worked up the courage to ask.
"Accident," he shrugged, turning onto the highway. "Met both at a bar. Kept them from getting into a fight."
"Oh." He'd answered with mostly the truth—so I let that go.
"I could ask you a similar question," he turned dark eyes on me. They glittered in the dim interior light of the van, expressing his curiosity. "How do you know about vamps and weres?"
That was a tricky question, which required an even trickier answer. "My grandmother told me," I said. That part was true. Mom and Dad told me about High Demons, which constituted much of my heritage.
The rest—my grandmother had given me plenty of stories and introduced me to all sorts of people; vampires, werewolves, shapeshifters and dozens of other races. Anita's race was a long tale all on its own. I didn't want Kory to know about that—it could place him in danger.
"What will Mason do if other vamps show up?" I asked.
"He's pretty talented, plus he took a portable flame-thrower with him."
"What?" The word expressed my level of shock.
"I bought it for him," Kory shrugged again.
"Oh, my gosh," I rubbed my forehead. "I really, really don't want to hear that someone burned the hospital down in the middle of the night."
"Yeah, you'd just have to report on it," Kory turned briefly and grinned at me.
"Lee wants me to continue the investigation into the bar fire and what led up to it," I blurted.
"What?" It was Kory's turn to be shocked. "You know that's the most dangerous assignment he could hand anybody, and to hand it to the rookie," he broke off, realizing that he'd likely offended me.
"No, you're right, I am the rookie," I admitted. "I think he ought to just leave this thing alone, unless he wants to watch the bodies pile up. I understand that I might be at the bottom of that pile, too."
"Fuck that," Kory growled.
"It's investigate it or I'll likely lose my job," I muttered.
"Then find another job," he snapped.
"That's really not an option," I retorted. Aunt Bree had been quite specific. I had to work for Rome Enterprises. I worried she'd haul me back to Avendor if I quit, and an unwelcome marriage would commence shortly after.
"Then tread carefully and call me if there's trouble," he said. I stole a glance at his face as he concentrated on driving the van; his mouth was set in a thin, disapproving line, his brow furrowed with restrained anger.
"Fine."
"It better be fine. Vann lost his life because of this, and Mike's fate is still on the line. I've already warned Rick and Farin; they know where those two live, you understand."
"Yeah. I understand." I hesitated for a moment. "Lee wants me to track down the bar owner and get her on camera."
"No." Kory smacked the steering wheel to emphasize his command.
"You think I want to?" I tapped my chest. "That's suicide, in my opinion."
"Then hold Lee off," he said. "Tell him you can't find her."
"I need to find out what the other stations are planning to do about this," I closed my eyes in resignation.
"Rick can ask at his place," Kory pointed out. "That's actually a good idea—let them take the fall."
"Did that just come out of your mouth?" I stared at him in disgust. "You want somebody else to die?"
"Better them than you," he said.
"My grandmother would call you a piece of work," I informed him. "That's not a compliment, either."
"I know what that means," he shot back. "I don't give a shit about who else is investigating this. If they want to take a crack at that bar owner, more power to them."
"Look, I don't want to lie to Lee about this," I mumbled. Well, that wasn't true. I did. I wanted to tell Lee that the bar owner was in Mexico having margaritas on a beach and couldn't be reached for comment.
That was the cowardly thing to do, and it was so very tempting for me to do it. People would die if the investigation continued—I'd have bet my salary for the next hundred years on it. Whether it was the bar owner or her vampire business associates, somebody didn't want this story told.
"So, you think Claudia Platt is a vampire or werewolf?" I asked, naming the bar's owner.
Kory's head jerked in my direction for a moment before turning back to the road. "Can't say," he replied.
Well, that was one way to skirt my truth meter; his ambiguous words pinged in the truth category.
"Whatever she is, she's involved somehow with the not-so-nice vampires of San Francisco."
"I suppose that's obvious," Kory agreed. "Here we are—chateau de Lexsi." He shoved the gearshift into park and shut off the engine.
"It's chateau d'Aunt Bree," I sighed. "She's letting me live here. I wouldn't make enough to buy this in a thousand years."
"As long as it's big enough to hold all of us," he said, pulling a duffle from the back seat of the van.
"Hey," I objected. He'd invited himself to stay?
"Look, it's for the best, really. I'll explain sometime soon. For now, we need to keep Mason and Watson safe."
"In my house?" I squeaked.
"In your Aunt's house," he countered with a grin. "Besides, Mason says that pasta you put together for him was better than most restaurants make."
"You want me to cook, clean and pick up after you, too?" I was really pissed, suddenly.
"No, that's not what I said," he began.
"Yes it is," I said. "It's exactly what you said."
"We can pick up after ourselves," he defended himself. "But if you'd cook now and then, we'll pay for the groceries and booze."
"This is impossible," I whispered, shaking my head.
"Come on, you need sleep. Tell me that's not true."
"I'd like to throw stuff at you," I huffed.
"You're too tired. You'd just miss."
"Jerk."
"Prissy pants."
"What did you call me?" I stopped halfway to the front door and rounded on
Kory.
"If you get to call me jerk, which I'm not," he tapped his chest, "then I get to call you prissy pants, which you're not."
"Is that how it works?" I demanded.
"Works well enough for me."
"Fine. Get your jerky ass in the house. I'm tired and I want to go to bed."
"Why didn't you say so?"
"I'm saying so now."
"Fine. Get your prissy pants in the house, too. I'm tired and I want to go to bed."
"Why didn't you say so?"
"I'm saying so now."
Mason opened the door at that moment—of course he'd be awake, he was vampire. Watson and Anita were asleep, he informed us as we walked through the door.
"I'm running a boarding house," I mumbled, striding away from Mason and Kory. My bed waited, and I only wanted to get inside my room, lock the door and fall face-first on the mattress before I passed out.
* * *
Kordevik
"Watson got a call from Claudia," Mason said as I watched Lexsi disappear down the hall. "The new bar is being set up in Oakland and she wants him there tomorrow to order bar supplies and stock the place."
"She already has a building?"
"I get the idea that Granger had a hand in this, in exchange for her cooperation. Klancy took the second shift at the hospital—he's appointed himself as guardian over the girl and Mike."
"So Granger has someone else set against him, and it's not just you," I blew out a breath.
"Yeah, but two vamps against Granger's stable isn't much resistance. How's the girl doing?"
"Better, but she doesn't remember much. Previous compulsion kicking in, no doubt. Police don't have any more information than what they started out with."
"Have you ever seen the supernatural community at such odds, or coming so close to outing themselves before?" I asked.
"I talked to my sire—he says no. I'm surprised the Council and the Grand Master haven't weighed in on this."
"Maybe they have and we just don't know," I shrugged. "Look, I'm beat. I need to sleep because I have an early morning gig. Picking somebody up at the airport, I think."
"Then get to it. I'll be on guard the rest of the night."
"Thanks, man." I took off toward the dim hallway, where my borrowed bedroom was located. If I were lucky, I'd get five hours of sleep before I had to get up and go to work.
Hot Demon in the City (Latter Day Demons Book 1) Page 7