by Jess Haines
Sara shoved away from the wall and shut the door, locking it. She leaned her brow against it, one fist pressed to the wood up by her temple.
Then she said exactly what I was thinking.
“What an enormous asshole.”
We both burst into shaky laughter.
Chapter 20
We waited until daybreak to make a run for it.
We took Trinity’s car. Not intending to steal it forever, of course—just to get us where we needed to go. As soon as we were sure Fabian was gone, I dug out the number Devon had given me and called him, letting him know that Sara and I were in hot water and needed a place to stay. He gave us an address and directions, and I told him we’d meet him first thing in the morning.
None of the vampires could follow us, and their human servants were more interested in keeping people out than trying to keep anyone from leaving. Though I was sure Clyde and Fabian would both be pissed, I was hoping they would consider us too minor a threat to put much effort into tracking us down.
Sara and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. If we tried to return to Gavin, no doubt he wouldn’t be happy to see us and might even kill us for showing up uninvited on his doorstep a second time. If we tried to go back to Thrane, Gideon might hurt him or other members of his flock. Without credit cards or IDs, I wasn’t sure that we could travel, and we were not going to take a stolen car across state lines. At most, we’d take it across town and maybe mail the keys and a note with the address where we’d parked it to Clyde once we found a place to stay.
Unless he ticked me off. Then the keys might end up in a gutter somewhere. I hadn’t decided yet.
We drove around for a while, taking a fairly circuitous route in order to lose any tail Clyde might have set on us. Once the sun had already been up for a while, and Sara and I were both starving, we thought it was safe to head to our assigned meeting spot with Devon. We hit a drive-thru first, grabbing some coffee and breakfast sandwiches, then headed to the address we had been given in Glendale, right on the edge of Eagle Rock.
The area was full of hills and winding roads, but we found our way easily enough with the directions we had been given. Though I didn’t like the idea of having to march up the steep incline into the hills, I was afraid the car might have some kind of security system that Clyde or the cops could use to track it down, so I didn’t want to park too close. If I’d had a choice, I would have parked it across the Valley and had Devon pick us up instead, but I didn’t want to impose on his hospitality more than we already were.
Sara was only a little bit winded, but my chest was heaving by the time we stopped at our destination six mostly vertical blocks later, our bags in tow. The address turned out to be a pretty nice house. Not of the caliber of Clyde’s mansion, of course, but it was definitely in the upper-middle class range. White stucco walls and a red tile roof gave it a clean, homey look, while the tiny lawn with miniature palms and thick, manicured grass made it clear that whoever owned it took pride in maintaining the place.
Devon answered the door on the third knock, his hair still wet from the shower and wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts. He gave us both a boyish smile, far from the predatory or fake grins I had been seeing so often since I got here.
“Shia, Sara—good to see you two again. Come on in.”
We stepped inside, following him deeper into the house. It was immaculate, with little artwork or furniture, though that seemed to fit with the pale gray tile floors and very white walls. It made the place blindingly bright, almost sterile.
He led us into a kitchen, gesturing for us to take seats at the table across the room. All of the appliances looked new, and the scent of coffee was permeating the place like the perfume of the gods.
Devon poured us both coffee, setting cream and sugar down before picking up a mug for himself and leaning against the counter. He gestured with his mug. “You guys look like you’ve been through hell. Are you going to be okay, or do you want to get some sleep before you go into the details of what happened?”
I rubbed my eyes with one hand, saluting him with my mug in the other. “Hell is a polite term for it. That necromancer is probably going to be looking for us as soon as the sun goes down, assuming Clyde’s people don’t find us first.”
“Are you sure it’s okay for us to stay with you?” Sara asked.
“Of course. You two are always welcome here. Though I do want to get you out of town as soon as possible. One of the other White Hats was planning a vacation in Vegas in a couple of days. If you want to hide out here until then, you can probably hitch a ride with him if you pitch in some gas money, and then catch a flight out of there back to New York.”
That sounded like the sanest thing I’d heard since I had arrived in Los Angeles. I gave him a tremulous smile. “Thanks, Devon. You really are a lifesaver. ”
“Don’t mention it. Though I would like to know what you two know about that necromancer. I don’t like the idea of having one of those roaming free in my town. If you two ladies came across any info about where he might be hiding, I can have someone start looking for him now.”
“I really wouldn’t do that,” I said, my grip tightening on the mug until my fingers burned.
“Why not? It’s just another kind of mage. We can do what we do with Weres and other rogue mages. Snipe it.”
Sara choked on her coffee.
Concerned, he grabbed a towel off the counter and pressed it into her hands, then thumped her on the back. It took her a minute to get her breath back. She blotted at the spilled coffee and thanked him, her voice barely a whisper.
As for me, I had to swallow a few times around the sudden dryness in my mouth to speak. And I wasn’t going to start by correcting his use of “mages” instead of “magi.”
“Devon, he’s against hurting normal people. He doesn’t deserve that.”
Frown lines appeared between his eyes, and for the first time since I’d met him, I had the feeling I was on the opposite side of the playing field. “Don’t be naive. He’s a necromancer, Shia. He deals with the dead. It’s unnatural.”
“It’s true,” Sara said, her voice scratchy from inhaling the coffee, “but he’s not out to hurt humans. Just vampires. He’s here because he’s working with Fabian d’Argento, the master vamp from San Francisco, to do something to Clyde. We’re not sure what yet—but whatever it is, it’s bad.”
The hunter withdrew, his normally easygoing expression gone grave, his eyes distant as he sized us up. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking. He’d saved me from the clutches of Max Carlyle long ago. He’d helped Royce in the fight against Max and his cronies, ensuring New York didn’t fall into the hands of a bigger, badder monster. Would he see that, this time, the situation was no different? Clyde might not have been the ideal biggest bad on the block, but I hadn’t the slightest doubt that things around this town would rapidly worsen if the city fell into the hands of Fabian or one of his cronies.
Sara coughed into her fist, then started speaking again, holding Devon’s gaze. “I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Isn’t there any other way of stopping him? There’s been enough death already.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to the others and see what they have to say.”
I took another sip of my coffee, my thoughts racing. If we couldn’t talk the White Hats out of sniping the poor bastard, that would be another death on my head. One was more than enough. There had to be something I could do to stop it.
Though I hated the idea of putting myself back in harm’s way, I wasn’t sure how else to warn the mage that he needed to get out of town. That was assuming I could find him before the White Hats did, or before the vampires found me, and that he didn’t try knocking me unconscious again. Or end up setting his zombies on me.
Why did I have to grow a conscience now? Things would have been so much easier if I had just stepped back and let all of the monsters in this insane town do their thing and destroy each other.
The problem with staying out of the mess was that I had no idea what Fabian might choose to do to me or to Sara once Clyde was out of the way. Royce had made no mention of him as an ally, and I was pretty sure that he wasn’t the other “friend” Royce had mentioned we might have been able to stay with if not for Max Carlyle’s interference.
It felt awfully coincidental that all of this was happening while I was in town. I hated that feeling, like someone had known in advance that I would be here, had planned for it, and was pulling strings behind the scenes to make sure I would suffer because of it.
“Sara, you look like you’re about to fall over. You want me to show you to a room?”
Devon’s words snapped my attention to my friend. He was right, of course. There were deep circles under her bloodshot eyes, her skin was more pale than usual, and she kept rubbing at her forearms through the fabric of her long sleeves as if they either ached or itched. It seemed a bit warm for that type of clothing to me, but then, it had been a long time since I’d seen her in any shirts that didn’t cover her arms all the way to the wrist.
As if I wasn’t feeling bad enough already, I felt like a shit for taking so long to notice that she wasn’t feeling well. Hopefully it was nothing more than a combination of jet lag and lack of sleep catching up with her.
With a nod, she rose, setting her coffee aside. She’d barely touched it.
He offered her his arm and walked her out. I stayed where I was, cradling my drink as I considered what to do next. I wasn’t going to abandon Sara again, but I was afraid of staying here with the White Hats now that Devon had revealed they weren’t beyond using tactics like shooting unsuspecting Others from afar. It shouldn’t have surprised me—White Hats weren’t exactly known for their temperance or compassion where Others were concerned—but it still bothered me that this was the same guy who had been so willing to work with Chaz and Royce for my sake.
I didn’t know what kind of defenses a necromancer might have, but a bullet to the head was usually enough to stop anyone in his or her tracks. The idea of murdering the guy because he had no respect for dead bodies seemed a bit harsh, in my opinion.
Then again, I was now—sort of—friends with a number of vampires, and had even slept with one. Not all Others were truly monsters. Or, rather, even if they were by nature a monster, it didn’t mean their actions or character were always villainous.
No more than the necromancer, anyway. He certainly wasn’t an innocent, and his actions weren’t completely aboveboard. Even if Trinity had been a bit of a skank, and kind of bitchy, it didn’t mean she deserved to die either.
This was all too much to think about after an all-nighter without coffee. I downed what little was left in my mug and looked up as Devon returned, his hands pocketed and his expression pretty sober considering his state of relative undress.
“She was almost out before her head hit the pillow. You guys must have been working hard.”
Saluting him with my mug, I made a face. “That’s us. Workaholics. It’s been nothing but fun-fun-fun since we got here.”
His lips twitched in a smirk. “I can imagine.”
He moved closer, and I couldn’t help but admire the fine play of muscles on his abdomen when he walked. No doubt, that was a gym-made washboard, but that didn’t make it any less fun to watch in action.
Once he reached the table, he hooked the chair next to me with his foot and pulled it out, sliding into it in a manner that I might well have called flirtatious if I hadn’t known any better.
Who was I kidding? Of course he was flirting. He’d expressed interest in me before he had left New York—why wouldn’t he want a few minutes alone with me? I could only imagine how quickly that was going to change once he knew what my relationship with Royce had become. If you could call what I had with the vampire a relationship.
Even so, I felt a pang of acute longing when I considered the possibility of staying here in Los Angeles and attempting to make a go of things with Devon. He might have been a hunter, but he was also human—the one thing I’d desperately craved in a relationship, yet for whatever reason had never been able to find.
Giving in to the temptation of that admittedly delightful body would smack a bit too much of betraying whatever it was I now had with Royce. Which didn’t make it hurt any less when I took the coward’s way out.
“I’m sorry, but I’m really wiped, too. Where can I crash?” And hide from an inevitable conversation I didn’t want to have?
Chapter 21
I didn’t get much sleep. When I took a look out the window, the sun was still high in the sky. There wasn’t much point in trying to get back to sleep; my stomach was growling, and I had too much on my mind to drift off again with any ease anyway.
I pulled some fresh clothes out of my duffel bag, frowning at the contents. Saving the master vampire of the city from a devious necromancer didn’t leave much extra time for laundry. I’d ask Devon what I could do about that later.
Sara was already downstairs and talking to Devon, Tiny, and a couple of other White Hats I recognized from that bar we’d visited. She was looking a little better, but there were still circles under her eyes, and there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on that seemed a bit “off” about her. Maybe she was coming down sick.
Tiny got up, drawing my attention off of Sara as he pulled out a seat for me, giving me a friendly clap on the back that nearly sent me sprawling. With strength like that, the guy could have easily been mistaken for an Other. Probably something Were. I grinned and thumped him back on the arm before settling into the chair.
“We were just discussing what to do about this necromancer,” Devon said, giving me a look that I interpreted as “and you’re really not going to like the direction this talk is going, but try not to make a fuss about it, thanks.”
One of the other White Hats poked at the bowl of chips in the middle of the table, stuffing some in his mouth before speaking around half-chewed crumbs. “I like Sara’s idea. Maybe wait until that vamp from San Fran makes his move, then see what the necro does next. If they’re both from up north, he might just leave after they get what they want. And I’m all for someone taking out that poser, Clyde.”
“It’s less work for everyone if we just let them take each other out,” Devon said, giving me a pointed look. Though I didn’t like the turn of the conversation, I kept my mouth shut.
Letting the vampires destroy each other might not have bothered me so much if I hadn’t spent time getting to know Mouse, Clarisse, Ken, and some of the others who lived under Royce’s watchful eye. They were monsters, yes, but they were people, too. Even if Clyde was an asshole, I wasn’t sure that he deserved what was coming.
Aside from which, if my doing nothing resulted in one or more of them dying, that just didn’t sit right with me—but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. The White Hats weren’t about to try to stop Others from killing each other, particularly if it made their mop-up job of picking off the survivors easier. Hell, the White Hats might even be pleased if the Others killed each other off and saved them the work of interfering.
Having to deal with the guilt of letting Clyde continue to be used by Fabian and of having more (relatively) innocent vampires die at Gideon’s hands wasn’t high on my to-do list. I could always call Royce and tell him to tell Clyde what I had learned, or maybe hunt for a direct number in Trinity’s phone, but I wasn’t sure that Clyde would believe me or have any way of stopping the gears Fabian had set in motion. There was also no guarantee that alerting Clyde would prevent all-out war. It might only act as a catalyst for a battle between the vampires for control of Los Angeles.
Perhaps Arnold would know how to neutralize the necromancer without hurting him. It was the only solution I could think of that might head off what was starting to look like an inevitable massacre.
“Guys, I just thought of something. Before we make any hasty decisions here, let me give one of my friends a call. He might know how to stop the nec
romancer. If there’s anything we can do to make him back off before things get rough, we might save some lives, huh?”
Some of the hunters shrugged, none of them too enthused, but nobody disputed my request. Probably because I didn’t specify that I wasn’t just hoping to save the lives of human bystanders.
Sara gave me a look, mouthing “who?” at me. When I lifted my brows and wiggled my fingers, she snorted and sat back. She got who I meant, but didn’t seem to think much of my idea. Maybe she’d already asked him?
Even though I had Trinity’s cell phone with my things in the bedroom, I didn’t want to risk the battery running out of charge since it was the only way Royce had to get in touch with me. I turned to Devon, who put a plate of food in front of me. “Do you have a phone I can use?”
“Sure. After you eat. You and Sara both need to stop waiting until you’re completely worn out to take care of yourselves.”
Shrugging, I tucked into the food he set in front of me. He’d put food in front of Sara, too, but she was only picking at it, not really eating it. That wasn’t a good sign. Whatever was going on with her was worrisome, but I had a full list of issues at the moment, so I’d have to find out what was up with her as soon as I was sure the rest of the immediate messes I was dealing with were under control.
The other hunters talked about things that didn’t concern me. Where people I didn’t know were hanging out tonight, who was coming along on the scouting party checking in on some of Clyde’s properties later, local politics that didn’t interest me, and when to meet at The Brand. It took a bit for it to sink in that Devon intended to go with a group of these hunters a little closer to sundown, and take Sara and me with him.
Barely tasting the food I was shoveling into my mouth, I set down my fork and pushed the plate aside, turning to frown at the hunter. “Why are we leaving? Shouldn’t we stick around here if we’re going to hide?”