Chapter 7
Mace pleaded with Rhea for over 20 minutes, but his fearless leader refused to relent. He followed her down the never-ending hallway of their lair 10 stories below the Hancock Tower. "When it was mobsters, I would completely understand where you're coming from. But now that we know they're shifters as well, this could end badly, Rhea."
The short being who was neither human nor inhuman kept her gaze forward. "This isn't a decision you can haggle over. We don't know how much time is left before the Russians get all of these artifacts together. These are powerful ancient creations, even stronger than the bombs Lyra's handler had put together."
"Her former handler."
Rhea stopped and met the vampire's eyes once again. "I know why you're trying to protect her, but she can handle herself. She saved your life a couple of times already."
He looked away. "I saved her life too."
"This is not a competition, nor is it up for discussion. Lyra is going to help us get to the bottom of this, and we're not going to let your anti-shifter bias get in the way of the mission."
Mace put his arms up into the air. "I don't have a shifter bias."
Rhea lifted her eyebrows. "It's the only thing the movies seem to get right. You won't see Lyra for a while, so you should probably say goodbye."
With that, the powerful woman was already halfway down the hallway.
As Mace stepped into the doorway, he could see that Lyra was almost done crafting her undercover costume. Her outfit was lower cut than normal, hoping to disarm everyone she came across. But it still presented a few opportunities for stowing weapons, which would be a different kind of disarmament altogether. Even if she wasn't wearing more makeup to accentuate her lips and captivating eyes, Mace would be hard-pressed not to stare.
Lyra continued to focus on her clothing as she spoke. "You know, the walls are thin for those of us with superhuman hearing. Rhea has a good point. We don't have any information, and even if I tore the Russian's arms off, we'd probably be right back at square one."
Mace stepped into the room. "I know she's right. I just don't like to see you have to go after 20 werewolves on your own."
Lyra smiled. "You're sweet, but you also know I can handle myself. Besides, I'm starting to rely too much on your technology. It'll be nice to have a solo mission."
Mace walked close enough to Lyra to touch her. "You could still say no. You don't have to do everything Rhea says to do."
"I thought I was supposed to try to be a good team player."
"Not when it puts you in danger of getting killed."
Lyra looked deep into Mace's eyes. "This isn't about the Russian or the shifters or listening to Rhea, is it?"
Mace's heart felt heavy. "I think this boundary you've put up between the two of us is full of crap. There's obviously something more between us, and you going off on a suicide solo mission shouldn't be your way of proving that we can't be together."
Lyra shook her head and let the words stand for a few beats. "This is what I was afraid of. This is exactly what I was trying to avoid."
Mace put his hands on Lyra's shoulders. "I still have your blood running through my system. I can't stop thinking about you."
"So you're saying it's all about a freaky vampire blood attraction thing, right?"
"You know that's not the case. Before you found out who I was, we almost—"
"But then I found out I killed your father, you were a vampire prince, and you're part of a secret organization trying to keep shit from exploding in everybody's face. It's a pretty good reason not to date somebody."
As Mace took a step forward, Lyra stepped back and turned away.
She looked at herself in the mirror, and her eyes met Mace's in the reflection. "Do I look harmless and sexy enough to keep around as a Russian mobster's girlfriend?"
Mace gritted his teeth and did his best not to say what he really thought. "I'd never say you looked harmless, but I think it'll work."
Lyra turned back toward him. "You know I have feelings for you too. But if we start making compromises, they're going to get in the way of the mission. People will die because we wanted to bone."
Mace wished for a moment he'd been given his father's power of compulsion, because he certainly would have been tempted to use it. "Just be careful out there, okay?"
Nikolai arrived in the doorway. "Your boss lady says it's time to go. Are you ready, my fake girlfriend?"
Lyra glanced over her shoulder at him and back toward Mace. "I promise I'll be as careful as I always am."
With a wink, she stepped away from Mace and brushed past the Russian without giving him a second look.
Nikolai let out a small chuckle. "She still pays more attention than last girlfriend."
Mace ignored the tightness in his chest as he bridged the gap between him and the shifter. "I already don't like you, but if anything happens to her, I'll tear out your throat before you have a chance to grow paws."
The Russian didn't seem the least bit fazed. "You talk good game, but who is the one dating the beautiful woman?"
Mace stewed. "You two aren't really dating."
"Not yet, my temporary friend. Not yet."
The Russian turned and followed after Lyra, leaving Mace alone in the room.
He let out a low mumble. "If anybody dies today, it better be him."
Chapter 8
Lyra's arm linked with Nikolai's as they stepped off the elevator and walked toward his family's rented suite. The air smelled fresh, as if the mobsters had paid someone to walk around spritzing the place with floral aromas.
Not a bad way to spend dirty money, I suppose.
Nikolai leaned in toward Lyra's ear. "Just let me do talking, okay?"
Lyra bent her head towards his. "You mean they don't like strong independent women in the Russian mob?"
"Not at all. They prefer quiet ones."
Nikolai and Lyra stepped up toward two hulking bodyguards who blocked the way into the suite. She had absolutely no problem picturing these massive unhumans as terrifying gray wolves.
One of the strong men with a scar on the side of his face put all his attention on Nikolai. "This is family meeting, Cousin. There is no room for prostitutes."
Lyra bit her tongue, but she wanted to give the bodyguard much more than a piece of her mind.
Nikolai kept his head up high. "You underestimate me, Cousin. Lyra here is corrupt former police negotiator. A valuable asset to the mission." The scarred Russian mobster shook his head. "If your father doesn't slit her throat, your brother might."
"Let me deal with my father and brother. Will you let us in?"
The bodyguard hesitantly opened the door into the beautiful rented suite. Lyra gave a light nod. "Thank you, Cousin. And please don't assume that every gorgeous woman is a prostitute. It's not good for women's lib."
Nikolai pulled her forward before the cousin could craft a response.
He forced her arm to link with his once more. "If you are interested in being killed, please continue with back talk. It actually solves one of my problems."
Lyra ignored him as she took in the decadent furniture, artwork, and general amenities that came with the million-dollar rental. For a moment, she even felt like a high-end prostitute. As the eyes of Nikolai's family began to settle on the two of them, she could easily discern the dynamic. Given his father's distasteful look in his direction, she wouldn't be surprised if Nikolai was telling the truth about not being privy to the mission's true objective. By the graying patriarch's side was the angry-looking brother the bodyguard had mentioned. Unlike Nikolai, he seemed to look like a carbon copy of the mob's leader, right down to a wolflike scowl. Several other people in the room, who all bore a resemblance to Nikolai and his father, didn't mince words. Instead, they surrounded Nikolai and Lyra and appeared to get ready for anything.
The unpleasant-looking brother was the first to approach. "Nikolai, don't you know that we stopped making human sacrifice hundreds of years ago?"
Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "She is not sacrifice. She is both girlfriend and asset to the mission."
Nikolai's brother seemed to undress her with his eyes as he looked from top to bottom and back to top, with extra attention paid toward her bosom. "I am not interested in asset so much unless she is woman to be passed around."
Lyra was about to speak, when Nikolai put his hand on the back of her neck. "Father, since Vanya tends to let his temper get the best of him, I thought having negotiator in mix might prevent future issue."
Nikolai's father, Yuri, took an extended moment to stand up behind his wooden desk. Much like the desk, the mob leader seemed meticulous and ancient. But he also appeared to be as solid as an ox. Lyra hoped she wouldn't have to get involved with a creature that massive.
"My son, I hope you understand our skepticism. You know we have reasons for keeping everything in family." He stepped up toward Lyra, and she could smell the confidence emanating from the man in charge. "What is your name? And how do we know we can trust you?"
Lyra took a step forward until she was eye to eye with the mob's leader. "My name is Lyra and shifters, vamps, and other creatures don't scare me in the least." She turned back toward the still-seething Vanya. "But I don't like seeing deals go sour. I know the vampires are already on your tail, and I spent most of my youth killing them." She turned back toward Yuri. "I'm here to make sure your deals run smoothly and quickly so you can do what needs to be done."
Lyra took the temperature of the room. Several of the family members seemed impressed with her ability to stand up and face down their leader. But she seemed to have made very little progress with Nikolai's brother.
Vanya stomped toward her and grabbed for her wrist. She quickly darted her hand out of the way and took control of his wrist instead.
Nikolai's brother snarled. "Get your hand off me, filthy human."
"If there's any unstable element in these negotiations of yours—" she looked back toward Yuri. "I think it might be your son here."
Vanya's teeth began to turn into fangs before her very eyes. She ignored the tightening of her throat.
Yuri appeared bored by the entire encounter. "Vanya, that's more than enough. How about you take a cold shower before we meet the trolls."
Nikolai's brother growled, but his father's words seemed to make an impact. His teeth returned to normal in a matter of seconds, and Lyra let his loosened wrist drop.
Nikolai nodded toward his father and looked into Vanya's eyes. "Thank you, brother."
"If she screws anything up, I break her spine."
Vanya stormed away and toward one of the suite's multiple bathrooms.
Lyra placed her hand on the small of Nikolai's back. "That was fun, wasn't it? When do we go?"
Yuri put his hand up in the air as he moved lumberingly back to his seat. "You don't go anywhere until we run background checks. If all checks out, you've passed my tests."
Yuri smiled at his son. "Besides, Nikolai seems like he's been lonely lately. Who am I to stand in the way of love?"
Nikolai played his part well, smiling and taking Lyra's hand. "Thank you, father. I appreciate it."
Yuri nodded before addressing the room as a whole. "Get her info now, we leave in one hour."
Nikolai and Lyra sat on the corner of a bed that was bigger than any sleeping surface she's ever seen. She supposed crime really did pay.
Nikolai shook his head. "I am very surprised you are not dead." Lyra smiled. "I would say I've done a pretty good job of staying alive so far."
"If I know my brother, he will try everything he can to make sure your streak of living ends."
Lyra nodded. "I appreciate you looking out for me. He seems fun to be around." She looked toward the door and then back to him. "So, we get to play with trolls today, huh?"
"We saved the best for last. Well, second to last. Even I'm not sure where last artifact is."
"Good to know. Is there anything else I should look out for when I'm out with your family? Do they do that pull your finger joke in Russia?"
Nikolai smiled. "You never stop, do you?"
"Why stop now?"
Nikolai took a deep breath. "I will tell you one thing. Be careful what you say and do around the trolls. Because if they don't kill you, my brother still might."
Lyra grinned. "How is that any way to greet his fake future sister-in-law?" She cracked her knuckles. "Don't worry, I'm ready for anything."
Chapter 9
Mace sat alone with his thoughts in an unmarked van about 10 car lengths behind the Russian mobsters. With Doug on a research mission to determine the true meaning behind the artifacts the shifters were after, the former vampire prince was on a solo mission to keep tabs on a girl he couldn't stop thinking about. While they were in motion, the feed certainly wasn't perfect, but it was enough to make Mace's skin crawl.
"Nikolai, you really should wear more shirts like this." Mace could hear Lyra's fingers touch the material of the Russian's clothing. "They really accentuate your figure."
The vampire held his tongue. While he knew Lyra could hear him through Doug's much-less-conspicuous comm device, he understood that the covert operative would probably lay the compliments on even thicker if he voiced his displeasure.
It's like living in a nightmare. A werewolf mobster nightmare.
Mace kept tabs on the three vehicles far ahead of him as they progressed toward the unknown destination. He thought back to what Rhea had said about the history and bad blood between shifters and vampires. It wasn't as if there was some kind of known war between the factions that kept them angry at one another. The movies certainly hadn't stumbled upon any great truths about the rivalry.
As long as Mace could remember, his kind had hated the creatures with a fiery passion. He even remembered his late father's colorful language about the unhumans. He wondered how much of that hatred he'd adopted himself without even thinking of it.
The signal on Lyra's comm cleared up a bit as the lead car turned and slowed in a rundown parking lot. Mace listened intently while he watched the other vehicles turn in stride.
"We need to approach this very carefully." Nikolai's father spoke slowly, as if his words held wisdom that could keep the other shifters alive. "These trolls are very untrusting, and they're the only unhumans I know with a worse temper than Vanya."
A trickle of laughter worked its way through the vehicle as Mace drove past the parking lot and pulled over a block and a half past the building to stay in range.
"One of the reasons I agreed to take Pretty Face along was because trolls have soft spots for the women."
Mace could hear Lyra's smile even through the microphone. "A soft spot as in they like me? Or a soft spot like an evening meal between dinner and dessert?"
More laughter peppered the vehicle as Mace heard the door open to the outside world.
Vanya gave a grunt of disgust. "Enough with comedy hour. Let's do deal before trolls change their mind."
The other mobsters seemed to agree with their comrade as they began shuffling out of the vehicle.
Mace wondered how Lyra was playing her relationship with Nikolai. Was she holding his hand? Or was she draped over him?
Keep it together, Mace. She's doing this to stop the shifters, not to screw one.
As he listened closely, he could hear the mobsters enter a building, with the sound shifting from the outside hum of the city to the indoor buzz of fluorescent lighting. Since Doug's camera, which was expertly placed inside Lyra's top shirt button, tended to mess around with car radios, Mace waited until now to flip it on. He waited as his eyes adjusted to the low light on the inside of the troll's domain. The camera pointed straight ahead, the image projecting the upper torso of a slimy, bluish, gargantuan creature before her.
He watched as Lyra bowed alongside the shifters in a show of respect to the creature. When the troll bowed in return, he could see the grotesque top of his shiny head.
"Note to self: Create line of wi
gs for trolls."
As the creature finished his long, slow gesture, he waved them forward.
He'd become accustomed to a snarky word or two from the former hunter, but her relative silence seemed to indicate that Lyra was playing things cool in an unknown environment surrounded by killers.
When the mobsters reached a large chamber, Mace saw Nikolai's father step forward to greet a creature who appeared to be the head troll. Somehow, he was even bigger than the one who'd stuck by the front door.
"We appreciate this audience, Your Excellence." Nikolai's father had the grace of one ruler paying homage to another. "Were you able to discover artifact among your many treasures?"
The head troll's grunt was halfway between a roar and a belch. "We found treasure. It will cost you dearly, Shifter."
Nikolai's father waved his hand as two of his cohorts brought forth a chest that was likely filled with jewels, gold, and whatever other ill-begotten treasures the shifters had come upon.
Mace shook his head. "Getting those back to their rightful owners may be a project for later."
Upon seeing the contents of the chest, the troll nodded and began the exchange. The artifact another troll presented appeared to be half crumbling with age. Though amidst the dim light, it glowed with magical energy that Mace could feel even nearly two blocks away. It was adorned with the head of a wolf.
Lyra couldn't seem to help herself. "A little on the nose, wouldn't you say?"
Her whisper seemed to catch Nikolai's attention. "I am pretty sure it's not meant for a fireplace mantle or decoration."
"I think your brother could pull it off."
Almost as if on cue, Vanya shushed his brother and Lyra and stepped forward. "Let's get on with this already. I have no patience for pageantry."
The camera turned toward Nikolai's father, who appeared to be just as offended as the troll leader.
"You think we part with wolf we've had for centuries in one minute's time?" The trolls grumble grew in volume. "You not appreciate our sacrifice?"
Myths & Magic: A Science Fiction and Fantasy Collection Page 33