by Joey W. Hill
The air became saturated with tension, but then it sprung a leak. The wolf settled down on the ledge with a sound between a grumble and a snarl. If a wolf was capable of saying “Fuck you,” Keldwyn was pretty sure he’d just heard it, but he’d complied grudgingly with the vampire’s order.
Keldwyn, satisfied that the wolf was not an immediate threat, turned his attention back to the vampire along with Uthe. His black unruly hair fell to his shoulders and he possessed blue eyes clear as a daylight sky, a dark ring around the irises. He had the classic alpha male square jaw and sloped cheekbones. Shunning native garb, he instead wore faded jeans, heavy-tread shoes and a sleeveless T-shirt that showed the rippling layers of arm muscles. He was broad-shouldered, long-limbed and well made, as most vampires were, though Keldwyn expected this male had been striking, an athletic and impressive specimen, prior to his turning. He’d been around vampires long enough now to detect the slight differences between one born and one made, and this one was made. Probably about two hundred years old, so nowhere near a match for Uthe, though Keldwyn noted the younger vampire wasn’t showing any apprehension on his own behalf.
The tension he’d exhibited when the wolf challenged Uthe had to do with the wolf itself. He probably was concerned about the wolf’s well-being, knowing that Uthe could easily destroy the animal. Or perhaps not quite as easily as one might assume. Keldwyn saw Uthe studying the wolf, trying to place that “off” feeling, but now that Keldwyn was close enough, he identified it with no problem.
“Shifter,” Keldwyn said.
Uthe concealed his surprise. He’d never met a wolf shifter. He’d heard stories of them, but they were reclusive to the point they were considered myth—or extinct. He studied the wolf more closely, but the creature was ignoring him now, studying the darkness off somewhere to his right. He wasn’t fooled, though. He expected the shifter was aware of every twitch either of them made, since he seemed to have the same protectiveness toward the vampire as the vampire did toward him.
“Want some coffee?” The vampire asked, lifting a cup. He’d emerged from the cave with it in hand. “I figured the smell of it was what drew you this way. Not many coffee shops in this part of the world. It’s a good Columbian blend, not that chicory shit. Though if you can’t hang around, that’s fine. Just leave me and mine alone, and we’ll be good. I’ve no quarrel with either of you.” His blue eyes moved to Kel, lingered. “You’re way too pretty, even by vampire standards. So you must not be vampire. Some kind of glamor? Fuck, you’re one of those Fae bastards, aren’t you? Hiding your pointy ears?”
Keldwyn said nothing, though the expression on his face had the vampire lifting a pacifying hand. “Don’t get worked up. Manners out here can be rough. I’m not trying to be insulting.”
“You did it without effort. Almost as little as it would take me to change you into a rat for your oversized dog to swallow.”
The wolf let out a rumble, though Kel didn’t remove his eyes from the vampire. “Him I can turn into nothing more than a stray wind that gathers desert sand. Keep that in mind, in case your appearance of affability is a farce and you intend either of us harm.”
The vampire didn’t seem concerned. When he blinked, one deliberate closing and opening of the lids, Uthe saw the dangerous soul lurking under the handsome charm. All vampires could be lethal when challenged. Whether this vampire posed an honorable form of hazard or not remained to be seen. “Is the wolf your servant?” Uthe asked.
“Depends. Is that against the rules of the mighty Vampire Council in their ivory tower?”
“Not to my knowledge.” Uthe lifted a brow. “The Council meets on the ground level of a Georgia estate.”
“Cushy digs all the same. Bet they serve great finger foods and Bloody Marys in crystal.”
“Nothing better than this, though.” Uthe looked around. “Endless scorpions and snakes and scant rainfall.”
“True. Our little corner of paradise.” The vampire took a step forward, held out a hand. “I’m Mordecai, go by Cai, rhymes with lie. That’s Rand. Don’t let him fool you. He may lick his own balls, but of the two of us, he’s more civilized.”
Uthe clasped his hand. “Uthe.”
Mordecai glanced toward Keldwyn, who said nothing. Mordecai didn’t offer his hand, which showed he possessed some common sense. “So, want that coffee? We don’t get much company out here, except for the kind that’s entirely disagreeable. Like the crew that’s following you. I assume that’s not your lot?”
“Not exactly. They are watching us, but they have not yet claimed to be allies or enemies. We suspect the latter.”
“Hmm. Good guess.” When Uthe accepted the invitation, Cai preceded them into a cave hidden among the rocks. It was deeper than the narrow opening suggested, providing a roomy space big enough to accommodate all of them. A scattering of camp supplies indicated he’d been here several days, his sizeable backpack positioned to provide a pillow to an unfurled bedroll. After Cai found two more cups and poured the coffee, he gestured to the ground on the other side of the pot, tossing Uthe a folded blanket as a cushion. Then he positioned himself so his back was propped against the pack, his long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Uthe took the seat across from him, and passed Keldwyn his cup of coffee, since the Fae sat down on a rock a few feet away from them both, exhibiting his usual detachment from a conversation until he was inclined to participate.
“This doesn’t seem a hospitable place for vampire or wolf,” Uthe said.
Cai shrugged. “If you know the cave system in this area, you’re fine enough. For blood, there’s more than you think. Brigands, insurgents, the Russians who snuck through here with the WMDs from Iraq in the months before the 2003 war.” He winked. “We had a nice little smorgasbord then. Fresh food every night. But the problem with bad men is they taste bad.” The vampire spat. “So at least in this corner of Syria, Syrian food leaves much to be desired. However, the occasional shepherd…that’s manna from heaven.”
Rand slid into the cave, giving them all a warning look before he stalked over and took a seat on the other side of Cai, stretching out with front toes and ears pointed in their direction. Uthe noticed the wolf had a pronounced limp, and he lowered himself with effort.
“What does he eat?” Keldwyn asked.
“Whatever doesn’t run away fast enough. He doesn’t care too much for human flesh, though he’s been known to share a brigand or two with me when his four-legged pickings are slim. And right now, while his leg is healing, he isn’t as fast as usual.” The vampire passed his hand over the wolf’s fur and tossed him an enigmatic look when the creature curled a lip at him. “Fuck with me, and I’ll rub your belly in front of company,” Cai warned, then continued. ““Shifters don’t heal as fast as vampires, but my blood helps. When he’s on top of his game, even a vampire has a hard time outpacing him.”
“What harmed him?”
“Someone who is now very dead.” Heat flashed across Cai’s gaze.
Uthe took a sip of the coffee, finding it excellent. He declined when Cai offered cream or sugar. He wondered if Keldwyn found the sudden oasis of hospitality unexpected, but for Uthe it brought back good memories. The code of desert regions, where, as Cai had pointed out, company could be rare. Someone who didn’t declare himself as an enemy was treated as a guest, as much for the news he brought as the companionship he provided. Plus, in this treacherous environment, a host might end up needing the same form of hospitality at some later date.
Cai looked toward Keldwyn. “Do you have a name, or should I just dub you Deathbringer, or some other moniker that goes with that forbidding expression?”
“My lord would be appropriate,” Uthe interjected. Though Cai wasn’t a fledgling, there was a restless, uncivilized character to him. The vampire demonstrated little understanding or regard for the dangers of offending higher ranking vampires or other powerful beings. “You’ve been here awhile, if you’ve been here since the Iraq War. What commends this isol
ation?”
“A lack of other vampires,” Cai responded bluntly. “I’m no Trad, but I don’t play well with others, nor do I care to learn. What’s life without some risk? Still…I expect Rand might eventually enjoy a forest or two. We’ll have to see if we end up back that way. Problem is there are overlords in more hospitable environments. No such oversight here.” He glanced out of the cave. “Full moon tonight. If you wish to travel onward this evening you’ll have good light for it, my lord.”
When Uthe raised a brow at the title, Cai snorted. “It’s obvious. You wouldn’t know how to do commoner if your life depended on it.” He dipped his head toward Kel. “He’s another clue. His type doesn’t waste time hanging with peasantry.”
“You don’t mince words, Mordecai.”
“No point, really.” Cai looked at the wolf. “Both of us came here to lick our wounds. He lost his pack, and I lost my family. And no, I don’t care to talk about the hows or whys of that shit. But since I’m out here by my lonesome, it tends to consume my mind at times, so I can’t stop myself from bringing it up. Self-flagellation and all that.”
“I am sorry,” Uthe said.
“It is what it is,” Cai said shortly. “We love and we lose, because the gods are cruel. They like us to offer our hearts to one another, and then cut them out of our chests to show us how useless our love is before inevitable mortality, inevitable even for us. In the end, everything that matters is taken away.” Cai made a dismissive gesture. “So, anyhow, I go where the majority of my food sources deserve to die and the loss of those lives won’t be noticed, aka trigger the Council’s worry meter about exposure to humans. We spare the shepherds, but everyone else… Well, let’s just say the scavengers around here love us. Very few come out here except those up to no good, or up to something that they can’t afford anyone else to see.”
The charm had disappeared. Cai’s cool tone and flat expression gave Uthe his true face. Unsmiling and savagely content to live in a place where he could kill his food, Cai was venting a rage that hadn’t yet abated. Seeing the glowing eyes of the wolf, Uthe thought the two made a good match. Cai might be exceeding the Council’s mandated human kill quota, but Uthe wasn’t here to enforce Council policy. Plus, the vampire had a good grasp of the spirit of the policy, enough to avoid the wrong kind of human attention.
Cai took a swallow of coffee. “Since you don’t fall into either category, I’m going to guess you’re here for the sorceress. Which means you don’t know.”
“Know what?”
The younger vampire met his gaze. “She’s dead.”
Chapter Seven
It was like being punched in the chest. The ease of casual conversation disappeared in a blink. “What? How?”
“She was attacked while we were hunting, which we figured out too late was a distraction.” The flash of anger in Cai’s gaze told Uthe the truth, that Cai had been her ally. It saved the young vampire’s life. “We would have helped her. She helped me fix Rand’s leg.”
She was in her eighties now, but she’d been descended from a line of strong, long-lived magic users. She could have prospered another twenty years before succumbing to Death’s call. Uthe felt the loss of it, the waste. As well as anger that he hadn’t been here to help protect her. She would have laughed at him, though, wouldn’t she?
“I can destroy ten vampires without disturbing a hair on my head, my lord.” She’d cackled, running a hand over her sparse, balding pate. “You run and play your vampire games. Leave me be. I can take care of myself.”
“It happened a couple weeks ago. She was ready for it, though. She always seemed so ready for anything.” Cai shook off the anger. “Soon as she died, I think it triggered some kind of protection spell on her place. Incinerated the bastards tossing the cave and blocked any more from going in. Been that way ever since. Neither Rand nor I can get in. That’s why these guys following you have been lingering. They’re trying to see if it will wear off in time. They sneak up there to test it every other day or so. We took out a couple of them who did it after nightfall, but they’ve gotten smarter since then and now they only check it out during daylight. At least we make them sweat in the sun.”
“So why aren’t you concerned about our motives?” Keldwyn asked. He had one foot propped on the edge of the rock, his arm loosely wrapped around his shin to hold it, while his other arm was braced on the rock. With his head cocked, the dim light gleamed off his dark eyes.
“Christ, you can see why people wander off to your world and never want to come back,” Cai said. “A coating of sweat and sand on you is like powdered sugar on a donut. You’re a walking hard-on.”
“Cai,” Uthe said sharply, snapping the vampire’s gaze back to him. “He is a Fae Lord.”
“I understand, but isn’t he your servant, my lord? Why else would a vampire and Fae be traveling together?”
Keldwyn’s lip curled, his gaze glittering like embers. The wolf responded in kind, but Uthe suspected his reaction was as much his displeasure with Cai’s appraisal of Keldwyn as defense of his Master. He couldn’t say it thrilled him that much either—though it was an apt description of the Fae Lord’s appeal—but he focused on more important matters. Like interceding before Keldwyn downgraded his sentence on the vampire from rodent to cockroach. Keldwyn was motionless on his rock, a bad omen.
Uthe wondered if the Fae could actually transform someone into something else, or if that was just a euphemism for hacking the offender into pieces.
“An instant and sincere apology would be wise, Cai,” Uthe advised.
The boy wasn’t actually as dense as he seemed. Cai blanched at the overload of tension. “Christ. I mean…I’m sorry.”
The wolf rose, stalked over to the other side of Cai and sat down. Since he didn’t lie down, his position impeded Cai’s view of Keldwyn. Cai rose to his feet and gave Keldwyn a half-bow, including Uthe in the gesture. “My apologies to you both. It never occurred to me…” He cleared his throat. “I’m not all that familiar with the Fae, to tell the truth. I meant no offense.”
“Most who do offend do not intend it. They just don’t know how to guard their tongue.” Yet Keldwyn’s negative energy dissipated enough that the wolf’s ears pricked back up and the pressure around Uthe eased so he could pursue the information he needed.
“So back to Lord Keldwyn’s question. Why are you not concerned about our motives for seeking the sorceress?” Uthe asked again.
Cai sat back down, eying Keldwyn. “She told me a week before she died that she’d figured out something important, and a high-born vampire would be coming to get the information, to use it for good. She told me that Rand and I should help you if we could, because what you’re going to do will be vital for all of us.”
Cai gestured with the coffee cup. “I pay attention to words like vital. You’re lucky, because if she’d said you all were here to serve the will of the gods, I would have said bollocks to helping you. Never helping them again, not in this life nor the next, even if they spend it roasting my nuts over hellfire. Piss on them.”
The wolf dipped his head, brushing his ruff against the vampire’s shoulder, before he took a light nip of his clothing. “Rand says I’m about to become morose, an odious trait for a campfire companion.” He opened a flask, offered it to Uthe. “A touch of last night’s meal with some chili pepper thrown in. It’s good in the coffee.”
Uthe refused politely. No vampire took blood from another without verifying the source.
“It’s the hospitality law of the desert, my friend,” the vampire said, serious now. “I intend you no harm, I swear it.” He nodded to Keldwyn. “Plus, should I so much as stain your tunic, he’s going to turn me into wolf food, so there’s no point to me harming you, is there? Unless I have a death wish.”
“You would wish for death before I was done with you,” Keldwyn said passively.
“I’ve wished for death a long time,” Cai said with disturbing cheerfulness. “Just can’t seem to bring mys
elf to it. That fucking sense of self-preservation, right? Makes you want to live through things no one should live through. I did mention the gods are bastards, right?”
Uthe’s grip tightened on the cup. He had to remind himself to ease it before he crumpled the tin. Cai rose, tucking the blood flask back onto his belt.
“I’m going out to do nightly rounds. You’re welcome to take your ease for a bit, my lords. My cave is well protected for such a rest. I’ll be back in a while if you choose to stay for any length of time.”
As he moved toward the cave mouth, Uthe caught his attention with a raised hand. “I don’t expect the sorceress told you how I might get into her cave to find out what she left me?”
“No. I expect she thought you would know. I’ll bring you back a piece of my hunt tonight if you want. Nothing so good as a juicy, blood-filled lung. It’s like sponge cake. And you’ll have one less enemy to face. Your hunch is right. This lot aren’t your allies. Weirdly dressed, too.”
“What do you mean?” Uthe asked.
“Like they’re filming a movie about the Crusades. You’ll see. Once you have what she left you, they’ll close in and try to take it from you. I’ll see what I can do about reducing the numbers this evening.”
As Rand rose, Cai shook his head. “Not tonight. Your leg isn’t up to this. We agreed. A few more nights.”
Rand padded toward the cave opening, ignoring him. “Rand,” Cai said sharply. “No.”
Rand’s response to that was to pin the ears fully back and give him a full set of teeth this time, an impressive reaction coupled with a hair-raising growl.
“He always makes me pull out the rolled up newspaper.” Sighing in resignation, Cai moved to join the wolf at the cave mouth. “Fine.”