“Rynquist,” Estrada said, raising one perfectly arched brow. “Whatever has tempted you back to Discord this evening?”
In the months since the disastrous meeting of the leaders at Reine castle, Estrada’s ire for the Acrien clan had decreased quite a bit. But she seemed to be unable to completely ditch the irony that soaked her voice when she referred to the formerly rival clan. That Will spent so much time in Abandon hadn’t gone unnoticed, and was not entirely approved of.
He bowed his head respectfully. The best policy with Estrada was always to err on the side of respect. She’d mellowed some in the past few months, but he still remembered the time he’d accidentally offended her and found himself with a revolver aimed square between the eyes. The look in her eye that day . . . he didn’t doubt she would have dispatched him without a second thought. He wouldn’t have been the first vampire she destroyed, nor the last.
“I’ve come into some information I thought you might wish to hear.”
Her eyes narrowed on him, dangerous dark slits. If he was human, Will might have started sweating. “I wasn’t aware you were spying for me at this time,” she said.
He couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his mouth. “I’m not. It isn’t illicitly gained. Neither is it a secret.”
“Then I rather doubt it’s of interest to me.” Estrada sighed and leaned back in her chair. The silver silk dragon wings on her shirt glinted in the low light of the room. “Very well, what have you learned?”
She hadn’t invited him to sit, and he wasn’t dumb enough to take a seat without permission. Instead, Will approached the desk and stopped a foot back from the nearest chair. “Serena Bashe mentioned to me that Hadrian has called upon Rene Kaplan to combat a group of vampire hunters based in Utah. He’s tasked her with putting together a small group with members of every clan.”
“Vampire hunters.” Estrada laughed and the low sound filled the room with her derision. “What next?”
Will didn’t think it was quite so ridiculous. In his day there had been plenty of superstition. Immortals hadn’t hidden as well back then, and quite a few humans witnessed things they shouldn’t have.
“Hunters haven’t been a problem in half a millennia. Hadrian must be loving this,” Estrada said. “I get the sense you haven’t passed this information over with a strictly selfless goal.”
He met her eyes steadily. “I suspect Rene will be calling you to request a Risqueen member.”
“And you want to be the one. How long have you been barking up that tree, Rynquist? A decade? Two? You ever get any traction?”
The muscles of his jaw tightened, but he held himself very still. Estrada was testing him. Seeing how far she could push him. She’d have to try harder than that.
Her eyes speared him though and her mouth twitched in what might have been a smile. With a sinking feeling, he knew she’d got what she wanted.
“Why should I send you?”
He waited the space of a second—a good long one. “Rene will hate it.”
Estrada did smile then. It transformed her sardonic, Mona Lisa face into something truly terrifying to behold. She looked like the Goddess of Death.
“Sometimes I have the queerest feeling that I may have underestimated you at some point, William Rynquist.”
He inclined his head. “Unlikely. I think I’m just a bit too stubborn for my own good.”
“I’m sure that’s it.” She shook her head, still smiling. “If you don’t have anything else, you may go.”
He bowed his head again, trying to tamp down the disappointment that threatened to make his face fall. He’d thought he had her there for a second. Still, at least she hadn’t reacted badly. He’d almost asked Damon Reine to accompany him to the meeting, hoping her Second would be able to moderate. Estrada could be . . . unpredictable. Thankfully this time that facet of her personality went to his benefit. Turning, he headed back to the door.
“Will?” He nearly stumbled. She never called him by that name. “I’ll expect you to report to me weekly on the goings on. You’ll leave nothing pertinent out.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And watch the Fraccas.” A hard edge entered her voice. “Watch them very closely.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Elation carried him out the door and through the Risqueen headquarters to the street below. As he walked down the main street of Discord, the cool night air cleared his head. His hands clenched into fists.
Rene was going to have a fit.
Chapter 5
Coordinating a group of people was going to be the final death of her. It took nearly a week to get her team put together and a meeting night and time agreed upon. Who knew that the undead had such busy schedules?
Naturally, the plans impeded her ability to accept any new work. Hadrian hadn’t strictly forbade it, and she had the feeling that if he was against it, he would have made that abundantly clear.
Rene was running off the reserves of the blood Errin Kaye had left for her recovery from the bleeding. It wasn’t enough and she was pretty sure she was about to literally bite someone’s head off. She’d hunted a few humans in the days following, but every time she was ready to spring the trap, that damned vampire hunter’s grinning face appeared in her mind and all she could taste was sour milk and death. Not the good kind of death. Her own kind of death. It was getting ridiculous. She was nearly desperate enough to go to Kaye and beg for more handouts.
Waking up the night of the first meeting with her motley group, Rene felt as though she either needed to sleep for the next month, or eat her way through a small army. The eyes looking back at her in the mirror were sunken, her skin sallow and nearly translucent. The tips of her fangs seemed to protrude further past her lips than usual. Utterly unhideable. She looked like something out of a horror movie. She couldn’t go anywhere like this, couldn’t lead a group of vampires against hunters like this. What a disaster.
Picking her phone up off the bathroom counter, her thumb hovered over Errin Kaye’s name. Then Serena’s. Then Tanner’s. She closed her eyes and leaned forward until her head rested against the mirror. Tanner would have helped her through this. But he was gone. Over and over she caught herself turning to take in his reaction, share a private smile. He was a phantom limb, an ache that could not be relieved.
She tried to picture his eyes, the expression he would have worn when hearing she couldn’t hunt anymore. What color were they? Why couldn’t she remember them? Again she felt the loss of him all over. His absence was a gaping wound in her life. He was father, brother, maker . . . gone. He washed her in the blood and fire. He killed the scared little girl, and when the immortal rose in her place, she was new. But now as she stared into the mirror her head rested against, she could see that scared little girl staring back at her. Dead, empty eyes, and lips trembling.
She was so hungry.
Hungry to be alive again. Hungry to never be cold again. Hungry to be free of the never ending grief of her existence.
The phone started ringing in her hand and she looked down to see Serena’s name flashing across it. Rene sighed and held it to her ear. “Hey.”
“Hi, where are you? Almost ready?” Serena wasn’t part of the team—she had her own responsibilities to tend to—but since the group was meeting in Abandon at the Acrien headquarters, Serena had volunteered to help get the conference room ready.
Rene swallowed back her first response, which would have been a very pitiful sounding “no,” and tried to think of a better response. Something that wasn’t a complete lie. Just . . . mostly.
“Rene?” Serena asked. “Are you okay?”
“I—” Oh God, did her voice crack? Rene cleared her throat. “I’m not—fine.”
“You’re not fine?”
“No, no, I’m not ready. But I’m fine. Really. Just, need to . . . do something. First.”
“Rene?” A wealth of doubt made its nest in her best friend’s voice.
“I’ll see you soon
.” She ended the call and eyed Errin Kaye’s number again. No. That was too far. Too pathetic. She was over two hundred years old, she did not need some Victorian knight to ride to her aid with prepackaged blood. She just had to get over her fear.
Later. She would get over the fear later. Now was just not a good time to be facing her newest set of demons. Being on time for a meeting she herself set up was important and—despite being a vampire—looking like literal death was not an option.
That was how Rene rationalized breaking into the Salt Lake Blood Bank in the middle of the night, making off with enough silver packs of B negative to last her through the end of the week. If she hadn’t been firmly on the path to hell before, she certainly was now. Once she was in, shimmering back home was simple and instant. Now she would be able to come back whenever she needed. Something like adrenaline shifted through her body, but it felt hot and bad and so good at the same time.
Danger. Evil. Seductive.
She shouldn’t have done it. It would be so easy to abuse. So easy . . .
The first taste of the blood hit her, soaking her fangs and vibrating through her gums. But when it touched her throat, she pulled away. Merciful gremlins, she must have been really desperate before, to drink this. It was all wrong. It was cold, for one thing, and tasted lifeless. No memories in it, no warmth . . . no humanness. It soaked into her veins and she could feel how it renewed them, filled her up and out . . . but it didn’t get her high.
She finished one and ran her tongue over her teeth, staring at the bag with doubt. Well, if any of her fellow vampires ever needed a diet trick, at least she’d know what to recommend. Storing the remaining bags in her otherwise empty refrigerator, Rene tossed the empty one in the trash. Assuring herself all her weapons were in place, she turned off the kitchen light and disappeared.
∞∞∞
Two vampires were already seated at the conference table when Rene entered. Megan Whitby Diana Madrassi, a fourth generation Madrassi, and William Rynquist, the bane of her existence.
Rene had argued with Angela Estrada for half an hour to get another Risqueen, any other Risqueen, assigned. The medieval bitch wouldn’t budge. Estrada insisted that William, already being familiar with the Acrien and a sort of ambassador between their formerly feuding clans, was the perfect fit. And the only vampire she could offer since her own city of Discord was deep in wolf territory.
Rene didn’t even spare him a glance as she turned to the other vampire.
Megan came highly recommended from the Madrassi embassy in Genocide, by all accounts a helpful and serious vampire. Rene wasn’t sure what to make of that distinction. A serious vampire? Were there silly vampires? Or were they implying that some vampires didn’t take being undead seriously enough? If she’d been a little more insecure, Rene might have even suspected they were taking a shot at her. One could never really know with the Madrassi. As the oldest clan and the largest in Europe, they tended to regard the North Americans as an immature younger sibling. At least, that’s how they seemed to look at Rene.
With that in mind, Rene examined Megan critically. The female appeared to have been turned in her mid-twenties, her shoulder length brown hair straight and styled casually. Perfect bow shaped lips belied the coolness of her brown eyes and the skeptical set of her brows. Dressed in light blue jeans and dark green sweater, she appeared comfortable and chic.
“Hello,” Rene said, rounding the table. “You must be Megan. I’m Rene.”
The female stood and held out her hand. She was an inch or two shorter than Rene and of a similar build. “I am. Nice to meet you.” Her voice was just as cool as the rest of her. Was it nice to meet Rene? No one had ever said so before. Certainly few had felt it. Rene’s gaze narrowed on the Madrassi.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught the smile twitching on Will’s full mouth as he sat with his arms casually crossed. Her free hand tightened into a fist. Bones grated together, but she didn’t spare him a glance.
“Thank you for coming,” she said to Megan. “We have two others joining us. I’m sure they’ll be here soon and then we can get started.”
The small, round table had a total of five chairs around it. In front of each a packet of papers was set—a direct copy of the file Hadrian had on the Venor. Megan sat back down. There was an empty seat between her and Will, but Rene chose to sit on Megan’s other side. It left her directly across from William, which would make it a challenge to ignore him, but it wouldn’t give him the wrong idea either. He was the kind of male who took tolerance as some sort of positive affirmation. She’d learned early on that the only way to keep him at a safe distance was to constantly push him to one.
Thankfully, before the silence could stretch toward uncomfortable, the door swung open to admit the other two of their party. The slight female nearly vanished behind the imposing lumberjack of a male that preceded her into the room. Approaching six and a half feet tall easily, the breadth of his shoulders filled the doorway. Rene was surprised he didn’t have to turn sideways to get through. His reddish brown hair was buzzed cut close to his head, emphasizing the clean-cut menacing outline of him. It was almost a shock when he smiled an open, toothy grin.
“Sorry, we’re a bit late. I hadn’t been to Abandon before. Had to find someone to shimmer me in.” The deep voice reverberated through the room with good natured warmth. “Faber Jackstone Garran Venaygo, and this, if you haven’t met her, is Kendra.”
A full foot shorter, the sharp black-eyed woman looked like a child beside him. “Kendra Willits Melchior Fraccas.” Asian heritage was prominent in her youthful features and the waterfall of thick dark hair in her ponytail. She was dressed for comfortable combat in black leggings and a gray tank top.
Rene shook both their hands and introduced the other two. Megan was all politeness and seriousness, whereas Will had turned stiff and grave suddenly. He nodded at both of them, but didn’t move to shake their hands. The change in his easygoing nature struck her and lingered. What was his problem? Did he not want to be assigned to this group after all?
They all settled down at the table, Will moving over one seat next to Megan, with Faber next to him and Kendra next to Rene.
Rene stared at them all for a moment before realizing, with a start, this was her meeting. She had to . . . lead. “Um,” she said. They were all looking at her. “Thank you all for coming.”
What the hell was she doing? She wasn’t a leader. No one in their right mind would look to her for guidance. Hadrian must have lost his. She wasn’t even a follower. Rene did best on her own. No one should depend on her.
They still stared at her, except for Will, who had his eyes trained on Kendra. And not in a friendly way.
Rene cleared her throat. Too late to get out now. “We have been tasked by Hadrian Catane to uncover and destroy an unknown threat who is currently funding a group of vampire hunters in the Midwest of the continent.”
There, that was straight forward enough. A mission statement really. God, it sounded so lame.
She was an idiot.
“Vampire hunters?” Faber asked, brows raising incredulously.
“Like . . . Buffy?” Kendra looked skeptical.
Rene fought the urge to laugh. Be serious. A serious vampire. She couldn’t quite suppress a smirk. “That’s what I said.”
Megan, probably the eldest of their group both in lived years and undead, had her serious face on still. “Hunters have come and gone every few centuries since the dawn of vampires. Despite human media saying otherwise, they have not been all that successful.”
“While that’s true, we aren’t here strictly to take down the hunters, but find out who or what is behind the group. Hadrian feels this is a much bigger threat than some overzealous humans with stakes. In fact,” Rene paused to shudder at the phantom taste of sour blood in her mouth, “they are already a bigger threat than stakes and crucifixes. They have found a way to poison their blood.”
Megan scoffed, but Will finally spoke up
. “It’s true. I’ve seen the effects firsthand.” He didn’t look at Rene and she was grateful. She wasn’t quite ready to admit that one of the Buffy-wannabes had taken her down so easily. “Drinking their blood makes a vampire too weak to shimmer in minutes, unable to fight back. It would be very easy for the feeblest of these humans to kill one of us after we’ve tasted their blood.”
“So, we kill them all without biting them,” Faber said with a shrug.
“Easily done,” Rene said, “but then whoever is funding them created three new groups. Already they are branching out of their first city.” She turned to the third page of the packet, pointing to the map. “Two sister groups have already popped up in Chicago and Austin. We need to find the money and the brains, and stop this at the source.”
“Do we have any leads in that respect?” Megan asked.
“No.”
Kendra crossed her arms. “What do we have?”
“Not as much as I’d like,” Rene said. “But more than enough to get started. A sample of one of these cretin’s blood is with Errin Kaye, the Venaygo doctor. He is analyzing it to try to figure out just what they’ve done to poison it. If that can be determined, we should be able to employ someone to manufacture an antidote. At the very least, it could give us clues to the money source.” Rene made a mental note to check in with the Victorian in the next few days.
“Seems to me we could really use someone on the inside,” Faber said. “Someone who could get close to the higher-ups. Maybe overhear something useful.”
William shook his head. “Too dangerous for one of our kind.”
Weaken the Knees (The Immortal World Book 6) Page 5