Left for Undead

by L. A. Banks

  “Ten bucks says Romero is a dead man,” Sasha muttered as she came upon his locker and Hunter yanked it open.

  “I’ll raise you five,” Hunter said, showing her sawed-off shotguns that he’d retrieved from several lockers, along with boxes of silver shells. “If he was on shift when it all happened, either whoever did it killed him or his fellow grave guards did for messing up. or maybe the Vamps did.”

  Sasha held his olive green uniform shirt against her nose for a moment and then looked up at Hunter. “Adrenaline is all in his sweat. This man was freaked out.”

  “We need to move,” Hunter said, his attention jerking toward the door. “Like now!”

  The shack door burst open; Sasha and Hunter were gone.

  “They came in here!” a grave guard yelled. “We didn’t leave all this shit out.”

  Another grabbed a shotgun. “Comb the grounds; find them. I’m not getting my heart ripped out for nobody. You saw what happened to Romero.”

  Hands reached for weapons and shells. Boots thudded against the wooden floor. Sasha held the uniform in her grip tightly, invisibly waiting in the shadows with Hunter until the shack cleared. She dug in the pockets as something crackled within the fabric she clutched. A long rolled-up partial snakeskin fell into her palm and she unfurled it, showing it to Hunter with a puzzled gaze.

  “What the hell. ”

  “You owe me fifteen bucks,” Hunter said, and then stepped out of the shadow that hid them. “Romero is dead. But what he had in his pocket isn’t from an ordinary snake. It smells of sulfur.”

  “But why would his shirt and boots and work items still be here with this in it?” Sasha continued peering at the strange, translucent skin.

  “He was human. If you are going to kill a human that has a day job and pays taxes, you’ve gotta cover it up, right?”

  “Right.” Sasha sniffed the skin. “So you’d undress the victim and stash his gear and make it look like he just left work, upset, like it was another day at the job, before you offed him.”

  “And if you were working in a hurry, you might not notice some evidence he’d collected at the scene.” Hunter paused. “Also, what better place to stash a body but in the graveyard, where there are thousands of graves?”

  She looked at Hunter. “Yeah, especially if you were trying to blame the breach all on one man to save your asses from the vamps.” She spun around in a circle. “Damn. All we’ve got to go on is a snakeskin, which might just be a talisman that has nothing to do with what Romero saw, and a funky shirt. This sucks. But maybe it’s something we can take to the lab and have Clarissa or Bradley do more research on.”

  “Agreed. Let’s get out of here. Both Vamps and their human helpers have obviously ruined the investigation scene, and have even put the mausoleum back together.”

  “But. ” Sasha looked around the shadowy locker room. “Dammit. Sunset will be in just a couple of hours and we’ve literally run around all day and have accomplished nothing.”

  “Not true,” Hunter said, guiding her into a shadow. “We’ve put an offer on the table for the Vampires to consider—”

  “Or laugh at.”

  “And we’ve alerted the human military. and we’ve called in our family to a safe base.” Hunter smoothed her hair back from her face as they stood in the sanctuary of the shadow path mist. “Sometimes, Captain, a good retreat is the most logical strategy at the moment.”

  “Can you identify this as a talisman or a ward. or even tell what kind of snake this is from?” Sasha held out the skin to Clarissa and Bradley and then gently laid it down on the long lab table while the rest of the team gathered around.

  “Where did you get something like this, Sasha?” Clarissa said, backing away from it as Bradley leaned in closer, inspecting the partial skin with a large magnifying glass.

  “It doesn’t have the markings of any regional snake I know.” Bradley looked up. “What I mean is, the scale pattern is uncommon; look at the depressions in the—”

  “Don’t touch it,” Clarissa said, grabbing his arm. “Nobody touch it.”

  “We got it from one of the grave guards’ shirt—a guy we presume is dead,” Hunter said, his gaze fixed on Clarissa.

  “We think this guy either had it on him as some kinda juju or maybe collected it at the scene, but obviously never got to tell anybody who cared to hear about it.” Sasha looked from Hunter to Clarissa. “You’re freaking me out, ’Rissa.”

  Doc moved around the table, keeping his hands back but peering at the specimen closely. “Whatever it is, it came from a huge snake. This is only a partial, but if you extrapolate the size of the scales. man.”

  “You give me a diameter and I can run a model to size the thing,” Winters said, heading toward his temporary computer bay. “I wish we’d had a little more time to get set up here at the NAS, but if you guys are tracking giant snakes, then I’m all for the move of being on a military base.”

  Woods pounded Fisher’s fist. “Dude, just tell me and Fish how big that sucker is and we’ll be sure to get artillery that can handle it.”

  “Dude,” Fisher said, shaking his head. “I love this job, but remind me to tell you over a beer how much I hate this job.”

  “It’s not from a normal snake,” Clarissa said, her blond lashes beginning to flutter.

  “The size alone says it’s not normal!” Winters called out as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

  “No,” she said quietly. “This came from something that resides in Hell.”

  “Okay, now I’m officially freaked out,” Winters said as he stopped typing.

  “You’re sure?” Sasha rounded the table and held Clarissa by her shoulders.

  Clarissa nodded. “The energy off it is so dark and so thick that I almost can’t breathe.”

  “That’s enough,” Bradley said, quickly setting down the magnifying glass and going to Clarissa. “She’d been here before and I swore that I would never allow her to get caught up in a dark divination that could jeopardize her life.”

  “Come out of the trance, Clarissa,” Sasha said, beginning to panic as Clarissa swooned.

  Doc was immediately at her side and for several minutes team members took turns calling Clarissa’s name, shaking her, slapping her cheeks, until she finally came around.

  “Get that thing out of here,” Bradley said. His face was flushed and his expression was stricken as Hunter carefully lifted up the offending snakeskin and slipped it back into the uniform pocket.

  “We need to take this to the Vampires—after we record it in the United Council of Entities Hall of Records,” Hunter said. “Sir Rodney and Queen Cerridwen also need to know about this.”

  “Good looking out,” Sasha said, and then stared at Doc. “See if Silver Hawk can hurry here to seal this area with a shaman’s prayer. If me and Hunter just bird-dogged something that came up from Hell, who knows what’s gonna happen come sundown.”

  They stood in the depths of the Louisiana bayou with a full Fae retinue at their sides. Swamp sounds of frogs and crickets went still as the ancient council hall rose from the mud, disturbing gators and other slithering things that moved in the black water. Then they waited for the old crone who presided over all matters as a neutral party to exit the columns and come down the steps. It was a painfully slow process to watch her shuffle along the wet marble with her huge black book of records under her arthritic arm.

  She stopped at the bottom step and glared at those who’d called her before the sunset, seeming genuinely perturbed at the breach of protocol.

  “Who dares call a session before the moon has arisen?” she croaked, sending an accusatory glare around the group.

  “We do—the North American Shadow Wolf Federation,” Hunter said, and then motioned with his chin to the book under her arm. “We have evidence that could avert a war, if it is heeded.”

  “Speak!” the crone yelled out, and then flung the black book into the air.

  The book hovered between her and the g
roup and then opened to a blank page, allowing a raven-feathered quill pen to escape its pages with a squeal.

  “I am a Shadow Wolf, with full silver aura,” Hunter announced. “Therefore, my testimony requires no blood strike from your pen of truth.”

  “Agreed,” the crone said, now seeming more curious than annoyed. “Continue.”

  “Our allies have been accused of opening Vampire graves to daylight, but they claim that they are innocent. We, the North American Shadow Wolf Federation, went to the Vampires today—to the Blood Oasis—to offer them our assistance in finding out who could have done this. The Southeast Asian Werewolf Federation is a neutral party and is uninvolved at this juncture. Then we went to the scene of the last crime, to the cemetery that once held Monroe Bonaventure, Sixth Viceroy of Cartel Elder Vlad Tempesh.”

  Hunter held out the snakeskin for the crone to examine before he continued on. “We found this in the Vampire human helper’s uniform at Golden Estates, Mr. Romero, who is now deceased and was killed by his own men, we presume. This is all we have at the onset of our investigation, but we are asking the UCE court for more time to investigate before the Vampires are given free rein to retaliate. At this juncture, we need a go-between to keep the peace and to keep the business of the supernatural community beyond the eyes of the already-panicked human population. Open warfare serves no purpose.”

  “Aye,” Sir Rodney said, “especially since we are innocent.”

  “So they all say,” the crone muttered. “But if you are found guilty of the serious offense of opening Vampire graves to daylight without warrant, there will be no mercy this court can offer. You are aware of the might and reputation of your adversaries.”

  “That we are,” Queen Cerridwen said, lifting her chin. “But this evidence is strange. I have been blamed because the locks were shattered by instant freezing. yet what has a serpent skin from Hell to do with my so-called handiwork? Something untoward is amiss.”

  Grumbles of Fae soldiers’ assent filtered throughout the dense foliage and even Garth seemed puzzled as the crone fingered the skin and then held it out for the pen and book to inspect.

  “This is a rare artifact, something no human should have had access to—at least not one living.” The crone calmly folded the skin up and placed it under the last page of the hovering book. “Let it be entered into the record that the wolves tracked a very interesting bit of evidence that requires much further investigation. I personally haven’t seen the skin of an Erinyes wreath in more than a thousand years.”

  Sasha gave Hunter a quizzical look as the Fae collectively released an audible gasp.

  “What’s an Erinyes wreath?” Sasha stared at the crone and then her gaze ricocheted around to look at the others.

  “It came from a type of group of demons also known as the Furies,” Garth said in a hushed tone. “They are kindred to the Gorgons, but countless in number.”

  “Cousins. The Gorgons have hair made of serpents and turn an onlooker to stone, but the Erinyes have serpent wreaths in their hair. bat wings and avenge the anger of the dead,” the crone remarked casually, beginning to walk back up the palatial council stairs. She called the book with a snap of her fingers. “One generally does not see those sharing graves or victims with Vampires. Yes, all of this is very curious. You may have a case indeed.”

  CHAPTER 9

  “Okay, WTF?” Sasha walked in an agitated circle as the UCE building sank back down into the swamp and disappeared. “Furies, Erinyes—what’s any of that got to do with the Unseelie or with Vampires?”

  “WTF?” Queen Cerridwen asked, looking toward Sir Rodney for clarity.

  “A colloquial human expression,” Sir Rodney replied, smiling, “one that is a bit off-color, but warranted given the circumstances.”

  “How can you even joke at a time like this? Erinyes may be involved?” Queen Cerridwen paced away. “Do you know how dangerous those entities are? Surely I have done nothing to provoke them.”

  “Of course not,” Sir Rodney said, dismissing the concept with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “But I am smiling because that means there is a shadow of doubt regarding your guilt that the Vampires must take into consideration. The Fae are not the only suspects in this travesty, and our wolf allies have found out something that should give everyone pause.”

  “Let us hope so,” Hunter muttered as he looked up at the waning sun through the heavy canopy of trees. “We have perhaps a half hour of daylight remaining, and it is my strong suggestion that we all take cover until we hear that the Vampires accept a truce during our investigation.”

  “Couldn’t agree more.” Sasha whipped out her cell phone and began dialing with all eyes on her. “I’m going to leave a message at the Blood Oasis,” she said, waiting for the call to connect to voice mail. As soon as it did, she began speaking. “This is Sasha Trudeau with an urgent message for Elder Vlad. Tell him we found an Erinyes wreath serpent skin at the site of Monroe Bonaventure’s mausoleum today and he can check with the grave guards at Golden Estates. They know we were there, since they tried to kill us—just saying. We’ve also entered the find into the hall of records up here at UCE, so before they blow—”

  A Fae archer’s scream stopped Sasha’s words mid-sentence. The entire group pivoted quickly just in time to see a muscular stone-hued gargoyle rip open the man’s chest cavity, spilling vital organs and entrails. Garth pulled out his wand from his robe sleeve in unison with Queen Cerridwen, each respectively sending blasts of white hot light and ice as they ran for cover.

  Chaos reigned high in the branches. Fae archers attempted to ward off the gargoyle onslaught with silver-tipped arrows, alternately ducking and then crouching to fire. But the sky darkened with an incalculable number of beasts. Sir Rodney was a blur of Fae motion, leaping into the battle high in the branches, blade drawn to protect his men, and sending up sparkling shield pulses to ward off the aerial attack.

  For a few seconds, Sasha and Hunter could only look up at the battle taking place above their heads high in the trees. Then several beasts narrowed their red glowing gazes on Sasha and Hunter, spread their leathery wings, screeched, and dive-bombed toward them with vicious talons outstretched.

  In less than the time it took to blink, Sasha and Hunter transformed out of their human forms and into their wolves to leave their clothes pooled on the ground. Oddly, the gargoyles stopped their aerial offensive mid-air and simply screeched at both snarling wolves, then turned to fly off to attack the retreating Fae.

  Bounding toward a fallen archer drawn between two gargoyles, the pair of wolves rushed in trying to save him. But it was too late. The moment the hissing creatures saw Sasha and Hunter, they flew off in different directions, ripping the archer in two.

  Gore pelted the ground from the air. Sasha’s pristine silver coat became matted with blood splatter raining down from the trees as the gargoyles decimated the archers. Hunter moved in and out of the shadows with Sasha like black lightning, his onyx coat wet with Fae blood, their mission to cover Sir Rodney, Garth, and Queen Cerridwen while trees fell from Fae monarch blasts.

  Then suddenly the gargoyles pulled back, lifting the darkness from the bayou to allow in the light of the full moon. Five platinum blond Vampire sentries touched down silently, protected by translucent dark energy shields. Their long, flowing tresses lifted off their shoulders from a supernatural source as static fury coursed down their arms and along their billowing black leather coats. Then one dark-haired female Vampire baring fangs slid out of the folds of nothingness to stand by the lead male.

  “A message!” the lead Vampire shouted. “Know me as Caleb, the destroyer! I have been sent to deliver word from Elder Vlad.”

  It was a standoff; the Fae monarchs and Garth held wands at the ready. What was left of the Fae archers took aim at the six Vampires in the clearing. Sasha and Hunter lowered their heads, poised for an attack lunge. The silence was deafening as they waited for the Vampires to speak.

  “We have no fight wi
th you, wolves,” the female Vampire said, cautiously watching Sasha and Hunter. “That is why our gargoyles pulled back. But if you continue to fight with the Fae, we will take that as an invitation to war.”

  “Sixty Unseelie Fae have been slaughtered!” Caleb shouted between his fangs, and then tossed the head of one of Queen Cerridwen’s guard gnomes to her feet. “Ten for every Vampire viceroy you subjected to daylight invasion until I deliver you to Elder Vlad, dead or alive, milady. Your choice.”

  “Never!” Sir Rodney shouted, his fingertips beginning to dangerously spark. “We have new evidence entered into the hall of records, and you will owe my queen fifty-four Vampire heads for the archers of the Seelie clans that were unnecessarily slaughtered tonight!”

  Caleb hissed and then spit on the ground. “ ’Tis truth and a shame that your men were unnecessarily butchered, but that is on your head, however. Were you not allied with your queen and had you allowed her to meet justice for her offenses, Seelie Fae lives could have been saved.” Caleb turned to the female Vampire at his side. “What say you, Mara? It seems that the Fae have joined forces now and one side is just as culpable as the other, yes? Frankly, I can no longer tell them apart; can you?”

  “No, Caleb,” Mara said with an angry glare. “The Seelie monarch said ‘my queen.’ How cozy, how familial. how very, very stupid in a time of war and retribution.”

  Garth cut a worried glance toward Sir Rodney and then the wolves.

  “Seems your elderly advisor also finds this folly. Dismay is written all over his wrinkled face. Shame that you have not heeded his counsel,” Caleb said with an evil smirk. “No matter. Be ye foolish or wise, sixty Fae will die per night until Elder Vlad is satisfied with his request for your queen. We are done for this evening, as we have met our nightly toll from your legions.”

  “Then tell Elder Vlad this, messenger,” Sir Rodney said, boldly walking forward. “The Seelie had no hand in violating his viceroys’ graves, nor did the Unseelie. The wolves had no hand in that affair whatsoever, as you know, and I will not involve them as anything more than investigators. We will uncover the truth. We have found evidence of Erinyes at Bonaventure’s tomb—”