Raven Mask

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Raven Mask Page 15

by Winter Pennington


  She made a little “o” with her mouth. “I’ll tell her when she wakes.”

  “Thanks. I’ll go get my stuff and leave.”

  Rosalin nodded. Remembering her words, I stopped in the doorway and turned. “Fangs?”

  She blinked at me. “What do you mean?”

  “You said something earlier about getting off on some woman’s fangs.” I gave her a sly look. “What was that about, exactly?”

  Her lightly tanned cheeks flushed a shade of rosy pink.

  “Oh,” I took a step toward her, “if it’s making you blush so hard you have to tell me.”

  She took in a deep breath and said as casually as she could, “I got off when Eris bit me.”

  “That’s possible?” I asked, then remembered my night with Lenorre. Rosalin opened her mouth to respond and I held up a hand. “Never mind, don’t answer that.”

  I went back downstairs and grabbed my backpack, swinging it over my shoulder. Remembering I was still wearing Lenorre’s clothes I dropped the bag and pulled out a wadded pair of jeans, the Two Points T-shirt, and some socks. Lenorre must’ve put the shirt in my bag. I didn’t recall it being in her hands on the way back to the bedroom last night. Then again, I had been utterly exhausted, both emotionally and physically. So, who knew?

  I slipped the shirt on over my head, folding the crimson pajamas and laying them across the back of the armchair. I pulled on my shoes and scanned the room, making sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind that I needed. Leaning over the bed I placed a soft kiss against Lenorre’s forehead. It was still some hours ’til sundown. I dug the car keys out of the front pocket of my bag and left.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  My cell phone was ringing. I finished buttoning the black–and-red striped overshirt and followed the irritatingly loud sound to my overnight bag. Pushing my towel behind my right ear, I answered the unrecognized number.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Kassandra Lyall?” a woman asked. “This is Gwen. Gwen Cunningham.”

  “It is. What can I do for you, Mrs. Cunningham?”

  “Alyssa,” she said. “My daughter. One of her friends from the neighborhood just came over. Would you like to speak with him?”

  “Sure. Put him on.”

  I sat on the couch, dressed, with the exception of the towel on my head. I shifted, trying to get into a comfortable position with the small-of-the-back holster. I could usually ignore the discomfort of the gun when I sat. The trick was putting most of my weight on my shoulders. I often did it unconsciously now, but wondering what news this friend of Alyssa’s might have, I’d totally forgotten about the gun. They have a way of reminding you you’re wearing them.

  “Hello?” He sounded young, with a thin, nervous voice.

  “Start with your name. Then tell me everything you know.”

  “Alec. My name is Alec Wright. I live a few houses down the street. I grew up with Lyssie,” he said, then corrected himself. “Alyssa. She said she’d call me last night, that she was going to check on Timothy.” His tone gave away the rise of panic he was experiencing. “She didn’t call.”

  “Are you friends with Timothy?”

  “Yeah. We go to the same school.”

  I nodded, though he couldn’t see my response. “Alec,” I said softly. “Where did she go? Do you know where she went?” If I could get a lead on Alyssa I was pretty sure I had a clue to Timothy’s location. Well, you’ve got to know where someone is to go check on them, don’t you?

  “Kind of. There’s a vampire.” The boy swallowed audibly. “Lyssie called him the Count of Counts. Said he promised he’d give her and Timothy a lifetime together. That he’d give her the power to save her mother. I told her it wasn’t a good idea, but she wouldn’t listen to me. She told me the cops found Timothy and how that piss—ticked the Count off.”

  “Alec,” I said in a firm tone. I didn’t need him distracting himself with thoughts of “I should have” or “I could have” and was afraid that’s where he would go. “I need to know where Alyssa went. If you tell me, I can save her. If you tell me, I can save them both.”

  “I don’t know. Lyssie said they met the Count of Counts in an abandoned church downtown. I…I don’t know what street it’s off of.” His voice cracked. “All I know is it’s near the vamp club. I’m sorry,” he said, and I wasn’t exactly sure to whom he was apologizing. “I’m really sorry. I should’ve stopped them. I should have told someone sooner, but I promised. She made me swear I wouldn’t tell.”

  I could hear Gwen on the other end saying, “It’s okay, Alec. It’s not your fault.”

  “Alec, I want you to stay with Gwen for a little while. Do you think you can manage that?”

  “Yeah, I’ll call my parents and let them know.”

  “Good. I’ll see if I can get someone to come sit with you guys for a while, all right?”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t think it’s safe for you to be outside without an escort. The sun will set soon. You’ve just given me information that may or may not put your life at risk.” I paused, deciding I sounded a little too harsh. “I seriously doubt it, but if you’re connected to Alyssa and she breathes word of it to the bad guys...”

  I heard his quick intake of breath. A little bit of healthy fear can keep you alive—going bat-ass crazy does not.

  “I won’t.”

  “You’ll stay inside after dark?”

  “Yes. I swear.”

  “Good. Tell Gwen I’ll call her or someone else will later tonight.”

  “I will.”

  I flipped the phone closed, took the towel off my head, and headed for the bathroom to finish getting ready. It looked like I might miss Lenorre’s party after all.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Blue folds of night crept across the land like indigo fingers. I stood in front of my living-room window watching the last strands of light be extinguished like flames sinking into an ocean. Then I stood there for Goddess knows how long. The sky took on a velvety darkness, until I could see the points of the crescent moon pricking the darkness like ivory antlers in the night. I relaxed, feeling the moon’s glow like a breeze against my skin.

  The doorbell chimed unexpectedly, shattering my thoughts. I drew the Pro .40 in a one-handed grip, quietly tiptoeing toward the door.

  “I heard you draw your gun, Kassandra.” Lenorre’s voice flowed like molten chocolate. I unlocked the door.

  Lenorre looked like she was dressed to go to a business meeting at the club. A pair of ash-colored slacks clung to her hips. A white button-up blouse was partially hidden behind a matching ash jacket. Her hair had been pulled back and was clasped at the neck, though a few stray curls of shimmering onyx cascaded rebelliously like black tears against the sides of her face.

  In black jeans and a burgundy T-shirt, I looked a little underdressed standing next to her. The only thing I was wearing that was even remotely dressy was the black-and-red top buttoned over the tee.

  She stepped into the room without invitation.

  “I thought a vampire had to be invited into a person’s home?” I asked.

  Her heels were quiet against the soft-carpeted floor, and she glanced around the room, slowly taking everything in. Her silvery gaze finally met mine. “That’s a foolish notion. You haven’t been reading the books I loaned you, have you?”

  “I haven’t had time.” I shut the door and locked the dead bolt.

  Lenorre lounged on the couch, watching me as I went into the kitchen and grabbed a can of Diet Coke from the fridge. I wiped the top of the can off with a napkin.

  “I like your apartment,” she said.

  “Thanks.” It was the first time Lenorre had ever been here. Why was that weird to me? I shook my head.

  “What?” Lenorre asked.

  I shook my head again. “Nothing.”

  “What were you thinking?”

  I should’ve been more aware of my actions around her if I didn’t want her to ask question
s. “It’s...”

  “Kassandra.”

  “You make my apartment look bland.”

  The corners of her mouth twitched. “And how exactly does one accomplish such a task?”

  “Don’t try to play coy vampire with me. If you want me to say it, just ask.”

  She stood from the couch in one smooth motion. When there were only a few inches of space between us, she said, “I would like to hear you say it.”

  “You’re prettier than my decorating job. Happy?”

  She laughed and stooped to kiss me, brushing her lips across mine. “You do realize you are as well?”

  Something low in my body did a trick for her then, a little flip.

  “I don’t know whether to take that as an insult to my decorating abilities or a personal compliment. It’s really not hard to outshine my decorating job.”

  Lenorre gave me a playful look. “That was rather implied, yes.”

  “Ouch.” I laughed, then moved to the matching leather armchair, not sitting in it, but propping my butt against its arm. “I’ve got a lead on Alyssa and Timothy.”

  “Yes?”

  “Apparently, one of Alyssa’s childhood friends knew about the entire ordeal. Have you ever heard of the Count of Counts?”

  Her gaze darkened like a storm. Her lashes closed, hiding whatever emotion was hidden in their silvery depths.

  She said one word, filled with an angry heat like I could reach out and burn my fingers on it. “Yes.”

  “Tell me.”

  “He calls himself the Count of Counts.” Lenorre spoke slowly. “He sneaks into a territory and overthrows the established Count or Countess.”

  “Are you saying he’s snuck into town after your throne?”

  “That is what it would seem.” Her tone held a hint of tiredness. She wasn’t truly tired, because vampires don’t crave sleep. Maybe she was weary. After a few centuries of dealing with vampire drama, the shit probably got old.

  “From what Alec told me, he lured Alyssa into his lair with the promise of strength and immortality,” I said. “She wanted to be with Timothy, and I’m guessing he played on Timothy’s curiosity. It sounds like he also promised Alyssa the power to help her mom.”

  Lenorre nodded. “The Count of Counts is not an honorable man. Be that as it may, there are some rules in our society he might adhere to, such as taking only a willing victim.”

  “Yes, but I imagine he lured them in without allowing them to read the fine print.”

  “Precisely. He seduced the children with his offer.” She shook her head. “It is not a promise he will follow through on. Of that, I am sure. His reputation precedes him.”

  “Will he kill them?” I asked what I had to ask, what I’d been wondering since I’d hung up the phone with Alec.

  Lenorre stared at me for several moments and finally said, “No, I do not think so. He will keep them as his pets and, more likely than not, use them as fodder.”

  I fell back into the chair, my knees draped over the arm. “Wonderful. Just fucking wonderful.” I sighed. “I have to get those kids out of there. I don’t care what it takes. I’ll tear the son of a bitch apart fangs first if I have to.”

  “I know.” She stood to pace around my coffee table, looking beautiful and thoughtful. She often paced when she was deep in thought. It made her seem almost human, but not quite. She still had an air around her that marked her as “other.” But she was damn good at playing human when she wanted to. She’d had centuries to perfect the art.

  “We must devise a plan of attack.” She stopped, scanning my ceiling.

  “No.” I shook my head. “You can plan all you want, but plans rarely go as you want or expect. Besides, I think that’s what the son of a bitch is expecting. If he’s after your throne, he’s waiting for you to make your move. We have to catch him off guard. He’ll be anticipating an organized attack.”

  “And what do you suggest, my love?”

  “Seek and destroy,” I said as some unfathomable wave of strength swelled within me, spiraling out of my mouth, calling to my wolf, calling to the raven, calling upon my ties to the Morrigan. “We hunt. We take our prey down. We use the element of surprise.”

  “No. I admire your courage, your anger, your desire for justice, but we must go in with clear minds or all will end in chaos.” She gave me a determined look. “We mustn’t plan every move, but we must set options in place, options to fall back on and use if things do not go according to the original scheme. We are going in blind if we do not devise something.”

  “Either way,” I crossed my arms over my chest, “we’re going in blind. The only difference is that I want to go in with guns blazing.”

  “No,” she said, and this time her answer was harsh and definitive. “No. This is vampire business, Kassandra. We do not just walk in and destroy. There are ethics in place.”

  “That’s a pretty idea, Lenorre, but you don’t negotiate with the bad guys. The bad guys don’t give a shit about ethics or morals, vampires or no. You’ll waste your time negotiating with him and he’ll screw you over.” I steeled my gaze on hers.

  She stood absolutely still, like some gorgeous lifelike statue in the middle of my living room. “How skilled is your friend Rupert?”

  “He’s skilled.”

  “I want you to call him and see if he will join us.” She strode toward the front door, pausing to cast a glance over her shoulder. “We will meet at the manor in an hour’s time.”

  “So, that’s it?” I asked, a little excitement fluttering in my stomach. “Tonight?”

  “One hour.” She slipped out the door, leaving behind the warm, sensual scent of her perfume and a flicker of hope. It didn’t surprise me that Lenorre had shown up unannounced, nor did it surprise me that she’d figured out where I lived. Lenorre might not have been an investigator, but she was a Countess vampire and had eyes and ears all over the city. Lenorre would’ve made a damn good PI. More than likely, Rosalin had told her where I lived. Yet, why she’d decided to come over instead of waiting for me to meet her in her own home, I didn’t know. I did know that if I asked she would’ve given me a mysterious smile. Such was Lenorre.

  Either way, I hoped we would take out the Count of Counts and find Timothy and Alyssa, preferably alive. If my suspicions were right and Timothy was undead, that’s better than dead, isn’t it?

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  I wasn’t against coming up with a good strategy. A lot of the time I devised spur-of-the-moment plans, and so far...I’m still alive. Obviously, I’d made mistakes in the past. I’d been trained to follow procedures and protocol, but I’d too often seen them crumble like grains of sand in the wind, especially when dealing with the preternatural. Anger and momentary stupidity made me want to charge into the abandoned church full force and try to take out the Count of Counts. I understood that. The wolf wanted that...wanted to hunt, to kill. It would’ve been so easy for her, for us.

  Which is why I was sitting on the couch between Eris and Rosalin. Zaphara sat across from Rupert. He’d let me know when he arrived that he too hadn’t found anything on Sheila Morris. Either she was careful or I was paranoid. I had a feeling it was the former.

  Lenorre stood deathly still by the fireplace.

  She had gotten her way. In the end, we were trying to make a plan, or at least lay the foundations of one. If it failed there had to be a plan B, which in my book always involved trying to stay alive and not get anyone else killed.

  Currently, the most important thing was to get Timothy and Alyssa out of the Count of Count’s deceptive care.

  Lenorre interrupted the silence, her voice as cold as dry ice. “The Count of Counts is mine,” she said at last. “If he believes he can overthrow me, then it is only fair I give him the opportunity to try. I am within my rights to challenge him.”

  “I agree with you,” Eris said. “Yet he does not play by our rules. What then, Countess?”

  Lenorre shook her head slowly. “I will be the ha
nds of his undoing. I want you and Zaphara on guard. If the Count accepts my challenge you are to take out any of his henchmen that try to interfere with the duel. I have no doubts he will try and bend the rules, if not break them outright.”

  “Lenorre,” I said. “I care about you, but I don’t care much for your plan.”

  “Kassandra.” She knelt before me and touched the white streak in my hair, allowing it to slide through her fingers. “This is what it means for me to be Countess. I must protect my people.” Her expression was one of compassion and understanding. She knew I loved her. I hadn’t understood until then just how much she realized, or really how much I felt, but the idea of her challenging another vampire didn’t sit well. The idea of losing her sent a chill through my heart like a splinter of ice.

  “This is as much my business as it is yours. I have people to protect, too.”

  “And I know you will do your best,” she said, “as I will do mine.”

  “The Count of Counts has defeated many formidable opponents,” Eris noted in a casual tone, as if we were all just friends gathered around to sip tea and enjoy the fire.

  “Do you doubt her?” I asked, not because I was angry, but because I truly wanted to know.

  “No. You are the one that doubts, not I.”

  What Eris said was somewhat true. My worry made me uneasy, thinking Lenorre was putting her very existence at risk. She was one of the most powerful vampires in Oklahoma, but I couldn’t squash the little voice inside myself that told me there’s always someone out there bigger, stronger, and ready to kick your ass.

  Was she more powerful than the Count? Could she defeat him all on her own? I wanted to believe she could, but reality wouldn’t let me. The risk was too great.

  Overestimation of your abilities can get you killed. I don’t care if you’re human, vampire, or the freaking Easter Bunny.

  “I take it Rupert and I are supposed to get the kids?” I asked, suddenly depressed. Where was my anger? I needed it. I knew how to work with anger, to wield it like a sword. It helped me to deal, damn it.

 

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