Keeper of the Night (The Keepers: L.A.)

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Keeper of the Night (The Keepers: L.A.) Page 13

by Heather Graham

She was surprised to see that the café was full when she arrived, and that most of the clientele seemed to have coffee and pastries already, and were actually waiting—for her.

  “Hey, it’s a crowd!” Sailor told her happily.

  “I wonder why.”

  “I don’t,” Sailor said, pointing to a little table next to the small stage. “Look.”

  Sailor looked. The newspaper was lying on the table, folded open to the nightlife page. And there she was, staring into Brodie’s eyes. Jake Reynolds had done everything she had asked him.

  “Oh, my God, I am so jealous,” Sailor said. “And look at all the people in here. Hugh is going to be thrilled.”

  “Yes...but...”

  “Oh, come on, Rhiannon. You were irritated about coming to California, sure your career was over. Now you have a real audience,” Sailor said.

  “Yes, but...”

  Yes, she had an audience. But what did that mean next to the fact that people were dead? And most likely at the hands—or fangs—of a vampire, maybe even one of her vampires. She realized now that she wanted to be a good Keeper—a respected Keeper, like her father before her.

  Hugh made an appearance just then, a huge smile on his face. He actually paused to hug them both. “I’ve made a fortune already tonight, so don’t mess up. None of that ‘I Hate Hollywood’ crap tonight, Rhiannon. No more ‘I hate actors.’”

  Sailor looked at her. “You hate actors?” she asked.

  “Of course not. I was just angry about the interruption from—oh, never mind.” She turned away to get her guitar out of the case. She should have known that impromptu song was going to come back to haunt her.

  The night went well, so well that at one point the place was standing room only.

  “I can’t believe it’s council meeting night. I wouldn’t close! I’d stay open ’til dawn,” Hugh said to her during a break. “Here’s hoping tomorrow will be just as good.”

  “I don’t work here tomorrow,” she reminded him. “I’m at the Snake Pit tomorrow, remember?”

  “Tell that slimy shapeshifter you can’t make it,” he said.

  “I can’t do that and you know it. But we’ve still got an hour ’til closing, so let’s make some money, okay?”

  Hugh was unhappy, but when 10:00 p.m. rolled around he made the announcement that they were closing and people began filing out. When the last customers were gone, and Rhiannon had her guitar and equipment ready to go, Sailor let out a soft whistle.

  “Rhiannon!”

  “What?”

  “You made money—a lot of money. You have a few hundred bucks here.”

  “Good. The way things are going, I’m going to need it,” Rhiannon said. “Come on, we have to get moving. I have to drop you at the church and get to the House of Illusion before eleven.”

  “Hey, aren’t you going to take the paper?” Sailor asked her.

  “No, why?”

  “Because that picture is hot, that’s why. Do you two have a real thing going on?”

  “We just met.”

  Sailor laughed. “That doesn’t mean anything. You either have chemistry or you don’t. And you two seem to sizzle.”

  “There’s a serious situation going on,” Rhiannon said primly.

  “You are attracted to him. Natural, I suppose. He is Elven, after all.”

  “I’ve known dozens of Elven,” Rhiannon said, “and I assure you, I didn’t want to jump in bed with them.”

  “Just Brodie.”

  “Sailor!”

  “Hey, you know what they say? Once you go Elven, you know you’ve been to heaven.”

  “It’s taboo,” Rhiannon murmured. “We’re not supposed to...mix.”

  “Why?” Sailor said.

  “I don’t know. That’s just what they say,” Rhiannon told her.

  “I’ve heard of a vampire Keeper down in New Orleans who fell in love with a vampire cop,” Sailor said.

  “I think there could be repercussions.”

  Sailor laughed. “Then just give in and sleep with him.”

  “Sailor...”

  “Hey, I wish I could stumble on to a Mr. Right.”

  “Come on, we’re wasting time,” Rhiannon said.

  The freeway was moving smoothly enough, but Rhiannon swore at every driver who slowed her down for two seconds. Sailor just rolled her eyes and told her, “Calm down.”

  “It’s our first time attending council meetings as Keepers,” Rhiannon reminded her.

  “That’s right, and they’ll wait for us if we’re late,” Sailor said, grinning.

  Rhiannon looked at her and smiled slowly in return. There was something in her cousin’s tone—a touch of steel—that said she was going to do just fine.

  She dropped Sailor at the deconsecrated 1890s church on Vine—by day it was a very trendy boutique carrying very trendy clothing. She saw the magician from the night before—the Count de Soir—and several other Elven at the entry. Sailor would be in good hands, but still Rhiannon was afraid to leave her. Then she saw that Brodie was there. He saw her, too, and came walking over to the car. He looked grim.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  He waved a hand in the air. “We’ll talk later. Come on, Sailor, I’ll walk you in.”

  “Wish me luck,” Sailor whispered to her.

  Rhiannon nodded, but she was looking at Brodie. “Keep her safe. Please.”

  “Count on it. We’ll see you at the Snake Pit after this,” Brodie promised her.

  Then he and Sailor turned away, and Rhiannon quickly drove on to her own destination.

  Because the House of Illusion was owned by a vampire magician, Jerry Oglethorpe, the vampire council was held there. Jerry knew all the traditional magician’s moves, but he also liked to do a little cheating that left his audience—and his peers—awed. As a vampire, he could perform illusions that the others couldn’t begin to match. Some young magicians were counting on the hope that when he died, his secrets would be revealed. Rhiannon often felt sorry for them; they had no idea that Jerry would probably outlive them, and his secrets would never be known.

  Rhiannon hadn’t been to the House of Illusion often. The majestic castle hidden away in the Canyon was really a social club for magicians, but on Friday and Saturday nights it functioned as a magicians’ showcase. They sold tickets, but you had to be invited to buy one. That kept the House of Illusion a fantasy—and made attendance there a must-manage-to-do for many of the tourists who came to Hollywood. And it made the Count’s invitation to the audience at the Snake Pit a real coup.

  But once every two months, on the second Thursday night, the vampire council was held. There was an elected president who presided over the meeting, but the Keeper was the real power.

  Rhiannon was already in her seat, in the first row in front of the stage, when Darius Simonides rose to preside over the council. He knocked his gavel on the podium twice, calling the room to order. Rhiannon looked around as conversation died down to whispers and then disappeared altogether.

  The room was filled with vampires from every walk of life. Many were in film and TV in one way or another: producers, directors, actors, agents, sound men, electricians, costume designers, set designers, script writers, musicians and more. There were also bankers, ad execs, waiters and waitresses, shop owners and other businessmen and women. In a way, she mused, it almost looked like a PTA meeting, except that some in attendance were very young and some were very old.

  “Welcome to this convention of our people,” Darius said. “First, may I please have the minutes from our last meeting?”

  The minutes were read. The last meeting—the last one her father had attended—had apparently been very dull. They had talked about sources for blood, most of which were slaughterhouses, and employment opportunities. A party was being planned for Halloween, and the discussion had centered on the date, since many vampires had previous commitments on the holiday itself.

  Darius asked for old business, which was equ
ally boring.

  New business came next. A banker had ordered blood from a new venue and found it to be very high quality. A woman stood up and announced that she was purchasing land on the outskirts of Santa Barbara, and planned on cattle ranching. Someone else suggested a summer party.

  Seriously, a PTA meeting would have been exciting in comparison, Rhiannon thought.

  Except that it was very likely one of the seemingly normal vampires in attendance was a killer.

  At last Darius brought up the most pressing piece of new business. “You all know that we’ve had to say goodbye to Piers Gryffald,” he said, and his words were greeted with a groan. “But I’m happy to say that the new Keeper of the Canyon vampire society is here with us tonight, fresh, young, beautiful—and ready to take on her duties and become an integral part of our brother and sisterhood. I present Miss Rhiannon Gryffald.”

  She was greeted with hearty applause, but since it would have been rude of them to welcome her in any other way, she didn’t read too much into that.

  Rhiannon left her seat. Darius met her at the stairs and politely escorted her up.

  “Thank you all for that cordial welcome, and thank you all as well for your show of warmth for my father. I know we’ll all miss him while he serves the Otherworld in his new capacity.”

  Those words were followed by more applause. She lifted a hand.

  “There is a grave matter facing our membership at this very moment,” she announced, making sure that her voice rang loud and clear. “The police have found three bodies that show signs of vampire attack. We’re lucky that, so far, the medical examiner who has handled all three autopsies is Dr. Anthony Brandt, a fellow member of the Otherworld. So far the press has taken very little interest in the case, though that may change soon, so we need to be prepared for rumors of a murderer imitating a vampire when he kills.”

  A man in a typical banker’s suit stood. “Why haven’t we heard anything about this before?” he demanded. “Why has there been no report of the murders at all?”

  “There have been reports. But the dead were John Does, and their deaths were relegated to the back of the paper. Additionally, some details of the crimes have been withheld by the police,” Rhiannon said. A discontented murmuring started, and she knew she had to nip it in the bud.

  “So,” she announced loudly, her voice ringing with authority, “as we all know, there are members of the human race who believe that vampires exist, and others who know they do, so it is certainly possible that a human being is using this method of murder to make the killings appear to be the work of a vampire. I want you to know that I’m your greatest champion. I know that you and the other members of the vampire community just want to survive and pursue your dreams. And I want you all to be aware that I will find out the truth of these murders in conjunction with other members of the greater Otherworld. If a vampire is guilty of these attacks—attacks that put the entire community in danger—that vampire will face the greatest punishment we are authorized to mete out.” She paused and looked around the room. “Total extinction. Don’t believe for a moment that I will not fulfill my duties to the letter of our mutual law, or that I will shirk in any way when it comes to protecting those who are innocent. I strongly suggest that anyone who knows anything tells me what they know, so they won’t suffer along with the murderer.”

  She stood for a moment, staring out over the now silent crowd.

  “It has to be a human!” someone in the audience said. “We’re happy here. Why would we kill anyone?”

  “As I said, it is possible that a human being is the killer,” Rhiannon said. “And that possibility will be investigated. But a vampire attempted to attack my cousin at the House of the Rising Sun last night,” she said. “That vampire is now ash. Be assured that I will not tolerate any attack on myself, my home or my family, and that transgressors will die without benefit of interrogation. If anyone knows anything about this attack, I need to know what you know. At the same time, if there is any threat to this community, I will just as aggressively seek to protect those of you who are innocent. But I will not forget what happened last night, and I won’t stop until I have an answer.” She paused again, looking around the room. “I am my father’s daughter. Please don’t believe that my justice will be any less swift. In the meantime, I am available whenever I’m needed by any one of you, just as my father was before me. In closing—if you find that you’re missing a friend or acquaintance, please come to me. Because there is a pile of ash at my house that was once one of you.”

  She turned to Darius, who was staring at her, as stunned as the others. She smiled and said, “Thank you, Darius. I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial relationship with all of you—again, just as my father enjoyed before me.”

  Darius didn’t offer her a hand back to her seat. It didn’t matter. She was perfectly capable of walking down a few steps on her own.

  She was sure that Darius had originally planned to say more, but he seemed tongue-tied. Finally he banged the gavel on the podium. “This meeting of the Canyon vampire community is hereby dismissed!”

  He came down the steps in a hurry. Rhiannon was certain he had a lot to say to her—no doubt he intended to chastise her for alienating the community from the get-go.

  But she certainly hadn’t alienated them all, because a lot of people came up to her to shake her hand and say they were glad she was going to take a firm stand. Others remembered her from when she was younger and spoke to her about her family, while some just wanted to welcome her.

  Jerry Oglethorpe came over, studying her gravely. “Good start, Miss Gryffald.”

  “Thank you, Jerry. And while I have you, a magician who bills himself as the Count de Soir was performing at the Snake Pit the other night. He invited his entire audience here on Sunday night. Does that have any bearing on my case?”

  “The Count de Soir—he’s Elven,” Jerry said.

  “I know that. He told me that he saw Merlin—remember, Ivan Schwartz, the magician who owned the House of the Rising Sun—in a dream. And that Merlin told him to help me,” Rhiannon said.

  “Of course I remember Merlin,” Oglethorpe said. “He was one of the finest magicians—and men—I ever knew. I don’t know whether the count’s invitation has anything to do with your case, though. He is performing Sunday night. I’ll reserve a table for you.”

  “Thank you, Jerry. We’ll be here—my cousins and I. And probably a friend,” Rhiannon said.

  Darius came up to her then. “My, my, Miss Gryffald. That was rather...hostile.”

  She shook her head. “I’m not being hostile, Darius. I am here to fight for the rights of the vampires, but someone out there is putting the entire vampire race at risk with these killings. If I don’t find the truth, his actions will eventually bring down our entire house of cards. That’s why it’s so important that this community understand that I’m not a figurehead.”

  “You’ve certainly created a stir.”

  “Across all species in the Otherworld,” she said. “The matter is being brought up at two other council meetings tonight, perhaps more.” She paused. “Darius, my cousin was attacked last night in her own home. And it wasn’t by any wannabe vampire. This was the real thing.”

  “Male or female?”

  “I don’t know—it was a very old vampire. No messy organ tissue left at all—except for a few bones, the intruder turned entirely to ash.”

  “Male, then, for the sake of conversation,” Darius said. “Which of your cousins did he come after?”

  “He attacked Sailor when she was sleeping.”

  “Sailor?” Darius said, sounding surprised.

  He knows something! Rhiannon thought.

  “Yes. Darius, if you know anything—”

  “Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady!” he said. “If I could prevent danger to anyone, I would. Especially Sailor. She is my godchild.”

  He turned and walked away from her. Jerry Oglethorpe looked at h
er and shrugged. “Rhiannon, Darius is old guard. He’s not just powerful in our community. He’s extremely powerful in Hollywood and the entire film business. He’s just huffy because you wounded his pride, saying what you did without consulting him first.”

  “Thanks, Jerry. Well, I guess I’m headed to the Snake Pit,” she said.

  He grinned. “I’ll be there eventually myself. This is a big night for all of us Others. There’s been a lot of anticipation and excitement about you and your cousins taking over as Keepers, you know. Anyway—” he smiled “—I’ll see you there. Be careful on the drive over, okay?”

  “Why?” she asked sharply.

  “Okay, Rhiannon, now you’re sounding paranoid. Be careful on the drive because it’s late and this is L.A., where way too many people drive drunk, and drunk or sober, everyone drives at eighty and changes lanes without signaling. Okay?”

  She smiled. “Yes, Jerry, okay. And thank you.”

  She left the House of Illusion and was approaching her car when she heard someone behind her. Instinct sent shivers up her spine, and she spun quickly to assess the threat.

  It was the actress Audrey Fleur. She clapped as Rhiannon turned. “Bravo, Miss Gryffald. Wonderful speech.”

  “Thank you,” Rhiannon said, even though she was well aware that the other woman was being sarcastic.

  “Terribly distressing, of course,” Audrey said. She walked over and leaned against Rhiannon’s Volvo. “It was so upsetting last night when that poor man started asking about his lover. I’m assuming he’s one of the dead?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do you think that a rogue vampire would really defy your authority?” Audrey asked, her eyes wide, her voice scared—but a smile was playing over her lips.

  “I don’t actually know much of anything yet, Audrey. When I do, everyone will learn what I learn. I’ll call a special session of the council if necessary.”

  “Wow! You really think you’re that good?”

  “I intend to be.”

  “Well, bravo once again. See you at the Snake Pit,” Audrey said, pushing away from the Volvo and starting toward her own car. She turned back. “Oh, by the way, do be careful. Keepers have been killed in the past, and we would never want anything so horrible happening to you.”

 

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