“I didn’t do anything illegal,” Alessande said.
“I’m just annoyed that I didn’t think of it,” Barrie said.
“Okay, so let’s get this in order,” Rhiannon said. “You investigated at the House of Illusion—”
“Not really. I just watched the news reports and read their coverage. Leesa’s boyfriend said she’d gone there with friends, and Judith’s mother mentioned in an interview that her daughter had been there, too. Regina called me from the parking lot to say she’d gotten the job and was going to stop for gas on her way home...so I went to the House of Illusion, and looked around, saw the gas station and figured it made sense that they’d all filled up there. And with the old studio right next door, it just seemed logical there was a connection.”
“And it didn’t occur to you to call the police?” Rhiannon asked.
Alessande smiled. “If I’d called the police, they would have made some big-deal search, and everyone would have disappeared before anything was discovered. Plus they would need a warrant—and I didn’t.”
“There are also laws for Others,” Rhiannon said. “In fact, they’re being formalized by the international council right now. And for all of us to live as we do—with the right to the pursuit of life, liberty and happiness—we have to abide by the laws that govern us, as well.”
“I didn’t break any laws. I had dinner at the House of Illusion, watched the show, and then I bought gas and looked curiously through the gates at the old Hildegard Studio,” Alessande explained. “And...”
“And?” Rhiannon asked.
“There’s an opening in the gate where one of the bars is rusted out. So I slipped through and started to walk around.”
“And then?” Sailor asked.
“And then some jerk threw a bag over my head,” Alessande said.
“If he was human, you could have escaped,” Sailor told her.
“But I wasn’t trying to escape,” Alessande explained. “I wanted them to take me wherever they were holding Regina.”
“But I presume they didn’t,” Rhiannon said.
“I don’t know. Probably not. I think they decided to kill me right away because they caught me snooping. Anyway, there was something...something on or in the bag that knocked me out for a while. I don’t know what it was—I should have recognized the scent,” Alessande said. She was an expert in herbs and herbal remedies. “But—” she quickly defended herself “—I was awake and aware by the time we got to the cemetery. They wouldn’t have been able to sacrifice me.”
She was startled by a loud snort and quickly spun around in her chair to see that Mark and Brodie had slipped in unnoticed. She wondered how long they had been listening.
“You were pretty damned out of it when I got there,” Mark said.
She was about to reply when Brodie strode over and took up a position behind Rhiannon. “Alessande, you didn’t say all this at the station.”
“Seriously, Brodie? How could I?” she demanded.
“You could have told us that you were taken from the old Hildegard Studio,” he said.
“No! Don’t you understand? We have to get in there,” she said. “Not the police. Besides, what should I have said? That I got some of my information through Elven mind reading?”
“Your sarcasm won’t change anything. What you did was dangerous,” Brodie told her.
“Please,” she said, her aggravation evident. “Life for us is dangerous—that’s why we have Keepers, and why we depend so heavily on one another. And why Elven look after Elven.”
“You’re not a Keeper,” Brodie said firmly. “And you’re certainly not a cop. So you were way out of line, doing what you did.”
“What you did, what you tried to do, was very courageous,” Rhiannon said. “But you shouldn’t have acted on your own. We’re a pretty strong group here. You’ve got four Keepers, counting Sailor’s fiancé, Declan—plus you’ve got Brodie and Barrie’s fiancé, Mick, who is an investigative reporter and shapeshifter. This...mission will involve all of us. Alessande, you’re brilliant, an ancient. You create powerful potions to heal us. You can look at the world and see the truth. You have to be careful. We can’t risk you, don’t you know that?” she asked gently.
“Rhiannon, I appreciate that,” Alessande said. “But if you recall, I was out there taking chances during the Celebrity Virus—and I will be out there now. Please. What I did was find out more than the cops. And what I am right now is really, really tired,” she said, rising. “Sailor, would you mind giving me a ride home?”
“My car is blocking yours,” Mark Valiente said to Sailor. “I can give the Elven a ride home.”
The Elven?
Alessande was speechless. The last thing she wanted to do was get in a car with the vampire cop who was behaving as if she was a schoolgirl with no sense.
But before she could protest, Sailor said, “Mark, that would be great of you. Declan will be here soon—we’re having dinner with a few of his shapeshifter friends, and it might be even more important now to see if any of them knows anything. Alessande is right up Mulholland Drive. I mean, I wouldn’t mind at all, but since you offered...”
“No problem,” Mark said. He smiled at Sailor, as if he felt real affection for her. She smiled back at him.
Great, Alessande thought. They were all just wonderful friends here. No doubt Declan Wainwright, a friend of Sailor’s long before he’d fallen in love with her, also respected Mark Valiente.
If she turned the ride down, she would only appear to be unreasonable and unpleasant.
“Thank you,” she said regally.
“I’ll get her home,” Mark said, “and then Brodie can meet me at the old Hildegard Studio and we’ll check it out.”
“I’ll go with you,” Alessande said.
Brodie protested. “What are you, Alessande? A glutton for punishment? I’ll give Mark some time to get you home, and then he and I—and only he and I—will look around the studio. I understand what you’re saying about the police, but Mark and I are not your usual cops.”
Did it matter, she wondered, if she were there, so long as Brodie and Mark could help, if needed, while searching the place? She couldn’t avoid feeling, however, that she had done the work; she was the one with the passion to save a life—and they were just taking over.
She determined not to waste time and energy arguing anymore.
“They took me yesterday—they meant me to be a sacrifice. But you—and they—underestimated my abilities. I would have gotten out. The thing is, I believe Regina was meant to die last night before they caught me snooping around. That means she’s probably still alive. But for how long? We have to find her.”
“We’ll search the old studio thoroughly, Alessande,” Brodie promised her. “If she’s there, we’ll find her.”
“I doubt she’s being held there any longer,” Alessande said.
“Then we’ll find the clues that will lead us to where she is being held. Not to mention that we arrested several people at the mausoleum,” Brodie said.
“You already interrogated them for hours,” Alessande said. “I know, because you kept me sitting there the whole time. Luckily I had some of your human colleagues to...talk to. Let’s see, the tall ‘dude’ from Texas, along with his sister and girlfriend, claim to have met a man in a coffee shop who told them about a really cool role-playing ghost tour. Yeah, they were a lot of help. Then there was the junkie who didn’t even know he’d been there. And last, the college student who had come to take photographs for the college paper to use for an article on old Hollywood. They were a lot of help.”
“Someone has to know something,” Mark said.
“You arrested five human beings. I doubt a human being is running things,” Alessande told him.
“True enough. But right now we’re looking for Regina,” Mark replied. “And we’re in a better position to do that than anyone else, even you, Alessande. You’re not a one-woman army. We can help, so let us.”
“All of
us can help,” Rhiannon told her.
“Help? The way you talk, only the police and Keepers are any use. Those of us who aren’t part of those groups need to be good little Others and stay out of the way.”
“Alessande, be reasonable. We need to act fast if we’re going to break this case,” Sailor said. “We need to bring all of the councils up to speed, make everyone in our community aware of what’s going on, since it seems as if at least one rogue Other is involved.”
We know that Others are involved, Alessande thought. She opened her mouth to say so, but Mark beat her to it.
“Sailor, Barrie, I believe that shapeshifters are involved and—”
Barrie interrupted him with a weary groan.
“And,” Mark repeated, “perhaps vampires. I didn’t see any Elven other than Alessande—though the Others in the congregation managed to disappear pretty quickly, and God knows a seasoned Elven can teleport in the blink of an eye. But I think it’s possible that there’s a conspiracy among those Others who resent the fact that the international council of Keepers is now working on establishing a universal legal code.”
“We’ll have to get in contact with the rest of the L.A.–area Keepers about this,” Rhiannon said. “And we’ll have to call our own councils to discuss the matter. Someone out there somewhere knows something. We just have to find out who.”
“And anyone who’s not equipped or trained to deal with criminal activity needs to stay out of it,” Mark said, turning to look at Alessande.
She fought hard to control her temper.
Maybe it didn’t help that he was so tall. As an Elven, she stood eye to eye with most men, but not him. Valiente was six foot four or so. He probably made a good cop. He was muscular and imposing, with ink-dark hair and the yellow-gold eyes that were frequently found among his kind, plus many striking features.
The better to terrify jaywalkers, she couldn’t help but think.
“Shall we?” he offered.
She walked to the door and paused before turning back. “Brodie, if you and Mark are both going to the old studio, who’s going to continue interrogating the humans you brought to the station?”
“Brodie already questioned them while you and I were speaking with the lieutenant,” Mark told her. “Besides, you’re the one who just said that they were basically worthless as sources of information.”
“I know I did, but...didn’t you learn anything? I couldn’t hear everything that they were saying to Brodie,” she said.
“Strange, it sounded like you did,” Mark said casually.
“Most of them thought it was a show, something to amuse the tourists,” Brodie explained. “The junkie said he thought he’d joined up with a religious group performing a ritual. Only thing he heard that impressed me was that he thinks they believed they could bring Sebastian Hildegard back to life—that he’s a new messiah.”
“And he thought nothing of an ostensibly unconscious woman lying on top of a sarcophagus?” Alessande asked.
“He thought you were part of the group, that you were just there to greet Sebastian when he came back to life,” Brodie told her. “He thought the knives were merely symbolic.”
“But—”
“We can’t prove that he or any of them knew you were kidnapped. They all seemed to believe that you were a volunteer, part of the ritual, the show, the tour—whatever they had stumbled into,” Brodie said quietly.
Mark sighed. “We don’t even have enough evidence to hold them for more than twenty-four hours. One guy threatened to sue the department for breaching his civil rights. Says even if he stumbled into something he knew nothing about, everyone is entitled to religious freedom. At least we interrupted the really bad guys tonight. Being Others, they were a lot more powerful and dangerous than the people we’ve got in custody. The sect, or whatever it is, is going to be regrouping.”
They were getting nowhere, Alessande realized, and continued on toward the door. She turned once more, looking back at the Gryffald cousins. “Thank you,” she told them.
With all the dignity she could muster, she stood by the door and waited for Mark. All she had to do now was keep a civil tongue until the vampire cop got her home so she could sleep for a while and forget the trauma—and the failure—of that night.
She had to admit, she was exhausted.
Mark Valiente joined her at the door, led her out and pointed to the vintage Mustang in the driveway. She already knew it was his car, although she had made the drive from the police station to the House of the Rising Sun with Brodie.
“Pretty nice car for a cop,” she said, then wanted to bite her tongue. Be civil, she chastised herself.
He shrugged. “It moves when it needs to,” he assured her, then grinned. “It’s actually my work car—came out of a police auction.”
The car didn’t have much of a backseat, but the front seats were comfortable and afforded a lot of space for long legs. Alessande slid in quickly, before he could hold much less open the door for her, though she didn’t know if he would have tried to or not.
They were both silent as he headed down the driveway, waited as the gate opened and eased out onto the road. It was dusk. The air was growing cooler, and the sun was falling in the western sky. The sunset was beautiful, shades of purple and orange slowly disappearing in the encroaching darkness. She couldn’t believe how late it had gotten, but they’d been at the police station for what had seemed like forever after the raid at the tomb, and then they’d been at the House of the Rising Sun for a while, too.
Alessande turned, looking at him, and said at last, “What about the bad guys? Do you think they’ll kill Regina out of anger over what happened—whether to get even with us or as a warning?”
“I don’t think that Regina is in any more danger than she has been. She’s Elven, young and very beautiful. I imagine they want her for something important,” Mark responded. He glanced her way. “As an ancient, you should be able to tell me. Do you know anything firsthand about Sebastian Hildegard?”
There it was—that damned age reference again. “I was in Scotland at the time,” she said haughtily. “What about you, vampire? How the hell old are you? Weren’t you around at the time?”
He smiled grimly. “I was living in New York City back then. And,” he said, assessing her, “what are you really? About eighty?”
“One hundred six.”
“I was born soon after the American Civil War. I suppose I do have you by a few years. My family didn’t come out to California until the 1970s. We moved around a lot before that. You know, you can’t stay anywhere long when you don’t age.”
Alessande started to open her mouth as they were driving along the steep winding trail of Mulholland Drive, but something slammed down on the roof of the car—as if hit by the Hand of God. The Mustang veered wildly toward the edge of the cliff, teetering dangerously toward the chasm that plunged hundreds of feet to the ground—and certain death.
Chapter 2
Mark prided himself on being alert and wary of danger at all times, but the thunderous attack on the Mustang had taken him completely by surprise.
He gripped the wheel in a death lock and swung the car around, barely saving them from a fatal fall into the canyon below. As he jerked the car to a halt, he knew that something evil was out there with them on the road where the houses were few, far between and built into the cliff at all angles.
He looked over at Alessande; to her credit, she hadn’t screamed, didn’t seem to be in a panic and was staring at him as if ready to follow his lead.
“Go,” he told her softly. “Teleport, but not home. Go back to the House of the Rising Sun.”
“I can help—”
“Please...go. I think they’re after you.”
She didn’t need to ask him why he had told her to return to the Gryffald estate. They both knew that teleporting took a vast amount of energy, and that she would be in a weakened state once she reached her goal, so the best place to be was among f
riends with supernatural strengths of their own.
He got a good look at her in the split second when she nodded before teleporting.
She really was stunning. Of course the Elven came that way. But her face was as perfect as a fairy-tale princess, her eyes as deep and mercurial and enchanting as the sea, and the spun white-gold of her hair framed her classic features.
Then she was gone.
And when he looked up, a giant eagle was ripping the roof off his car.
Shapeshifter!
At least Alessande had listened to him; she was gone, and she would be safe.
As the top of his car went flying over the canyon, Mark leaped out. He was excellent at transformation himself; in an instant he was airborne in the guise of a vampire bat. After a few seconds of intense concentration, he had increased his own size to that of the eagle. Flying ever upward, he avoided the sharp talons of his foe. Soaring above the gargantuan bird, he dive-bombed and caught the thing at the back of the neck, careful to hold it without inflicting a crucial bite.
But even as he did his best not to kill it, he rued his own stupidity in getting this close to an Other with this size and power.
It must have taken a lot for the shapeshifter to become such a mammoth creature, but it hadn’t been the end of the shifter’s strength. Now the thing turned into a gnat and slipped easily out of Mark’s grasp.
Swearing, he concentrated on his own body, shrinking, then changing back into his human form. He stood next to his car, staring with disgust at the ruined vehicle.
He’d lost his attacker.
And he’d lost his car. Materialistic and shallow as it might be, he had loved that car.
He swore, dug his cell phone out of his pocket and called Brodie. “Did Alessande make it back all right?” he asked anxiously.
“Yes, she’s here,” Brodie told him. “She’s exhausted, though. Sailor has given her tea and gotten her up to bed. What happened? Did you catch him? Alessande said it was as if a two-ton crane smacked down on the car.”
“Shapeshifter, definitely,” Mark said. “And no, I was trying to keep it alive, so—thanks to my own stupidity—it went into gnat form and disappeared. You’re sure that Alessande is all right?”
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