Boundary Crossed

by Melissa F. Olson

  “Don’t put words into my mouth,” Quinn snapped. Then he forced his face into its usual implacable expression. “Look, just come talk to Itachi, and this will all be straightened out, okay?”

  “Fine,” I retorted. Then I glanced down at myself and sighed. With as much dignity as I could muster, I added, “But I have to change my pants first.”

  Chapter 11

  As it turned out, I had been to Boulder’s big vampire hangout at least half a dozen times before.

  Like most college towns, Boulder has dozens of coffee shops, but so far as I know only one of them is open all night: a little place called Magic Beans, located on Pine Street, not far from Boulder’s pedestrian mall. It had been around since Sam and I were in high school. I’d been in once or twice to get a caffeine fix before my shift at the Depot, but I hadn’t noticed anything special about it, except maybe that it was a hell of a lot larger than the average coffee shop in notoriously expensive Boulder. Despite the size and the plum location, though, the prices were pretty comparable to any other coffee shop in town. If I’d bothered to wonder how that worked, I would have figured there was an underground casino in the back room or something. My mind probably wouldn’t have made the leap to “secret vampire headquarters.” But I guess I’m just naive like that.

  Although it was after nine-thirty by the time we pulled up, there were no open parking spots on the street in front of Magic Beans, so Quinn had to find a spot a couple of blocks west. The outside of the building was unremarkable, just a big brick box that was beginning to crumble a little at the corners. “Remember to be respectful,” Quinn said uneasily as we approached the building. “You can’t go in with guns blazing. You don’t want to be on his radar as a threat.”

  “I don’t have a gun, remember?” I said, a little sourly. Quinn had searched me and my purse before letting me get in his car. “And I don’t care if I’m on his radar. I care that Charlie isn’t.”

  “It might be too late for that,” Quinn said ominously, but when I glanced at him he just shook his head. “Come on, let’s go in.”

  Unlike most coffee shops, which are more or less one big room with a cash register planted somewhere, Magic Beans was labyrinthine, a maze of small rooms with tables and chairs scattered around at random. Each room featured art by a different Boulder artist, and each had a door, which you could close if you wanted to have a conversation without disturbing the other customers.

  There were fluorescent arrows stuck to the carpet just inside the door, leading first-time visitors through the entry rooms to the coffee counter. The girl behind the cash register was maybe eighteen or nineteen, and she was covered in a pile of bad fashion: several T-shirts and cardigans on top of one another, a handful of cheap costume necklaces, and an enormous baggy skirt that truly looked like it was made from burlap. Her hair was an unattractive bright orange, cut in an unflattering, chin-length bob, and she wore large, square-framed glasses. In most cities, she might have been taken for a homeless person, although everything she wore was perfectly clean. In Boulder, however, she seemed right at home.

  “Hi,” she said cheerfully as Quinn and I approached the counter. “Welcome to Magic Beans! What can I get started for you guys?”

  “Maven,” Quinn said matter-of-factly, “We’re here to see the boss. He’s expecting us.”

  The young woman—Maven—squinted at him. I realized with a start that underneath the layers of clothes, the odd hair, and the huge glasses, she was strikingly attractive. Sam had been cute, and I had a certain youthful appeal according to some, but this teenager was launch-a-thousand-ships levels of beautiful, even though she was trying to cover it up. It wasn’t just her face, I realized, looking at her closely. There was something inviting about her. I found myself leaning forward, eager for her response. “Oh, hey, Quinn. Forgot you were coming. He’ll see you in the back office,” she said pleasantly. “This way, please.”

  We followed her through another quiet study area and a massive room I hadn’t seen before, which was nearly twice the size of the next-largest room at Magic Beans. The floor was polished concrete, and there was a sort of mini-stage set up next to a set of double doors that led outside, judging by the darkness that I could see through the window. “We have poetry readings in here,” Maven said, sensing my surprise. “Sometimes even a band. Here you are.” In the back right corner of the big room was a tiny office. An Asian man in shirtsleeves and a navy tie was hunched over a desk with neat stacks of papers on it. He looked up as we approached.

  “Good evening, Mr. Itachi. This is Allison Luther,” Quinn said formally. “She goes by Lex. Lex, this is Mr. Itachi.”

  The man stood and looked me over. He was a couple of inches taller than my five-five, compact and trim with a very businesslike haircut. His face was intelligent, his movements smooth and efficient.

  Dangerous, I thought instantly, though I couldn’t pinpoint why.

  “I’m pleased to make your acquaintance, Sergeant,” he said, extending a hand. I blanched a little at the use of my old rank, but I shrugged it off and held out my hand. Itachi’s handshake was firm and quick. “Please, have a seat. Excuse us, Quinn.”

  If it bothered Quinn to be dismissed, he didn’t let it show. He just nodded and stepped out past Maven, who had come into the room behind us. She smiled and closed the door, perching on a chair next to it. I sat on the edge of the visitor’s chair across from Itachi’s desk. I didn’t like the cramped quarters, or the fact that there was a stranger at my back, but I was hoping to get out of there as quickly as possible. “Just Lex, please,” I said.

  Itachi nodded and gestured to a thick open file on his desk. “I’ve just been reading up on you. Interesting stuff.” He looked down and made a show of lazily turning a page. “Joined the army right out of high school. Two deployments to combat zones. Honorable discharge under . . . odd circumstances.” He glanced up, raising his eyebrows. “And you never seem to take advantage of any of Boulder’s resources for veterans. You don’t walk in the parade, you don’t go to the VA or to any support groups.” He shook his head, smiling humorlessly. “You didn’t want to be a poster child, Sergeant?”

  I ignored the question, keeping my face expressionless as my thoughts whirled. I wasn’t surprised, necessarily—if vampires really did run the supernatural world in Boulder, they were bound to have access to significant resources. But it took time to cultivate that kind of information, especially when the notoriously close-mouthed US Army was involved. Less than twenty-four hours had passed since Quinn had tried and failed to press my mind. Had they been keeping tabs on me since the attack at the Depot? Or were they just that fast?

  When I didn’t respond, Itachi turned another page. The next paper in the file was my mug shot. “You’ve also been arrested twice since you returned to Boulder,” he said mildly.

  “You have my police records?” I asked before I could help myself. Damn. Who were these people?

  Itachi nodded, his eyes still on the file. “I see that you were in a bar fight a few years ago, shortly after you returned from Iraq.” He glanced up, letting a silence brew between us. He was waiting for me to comment.

  I clenched my jaw, then painstakingly unclenched it. “Guy wasn’t familiar with the concept of no means no.”

  Itachi flipped the page, revealing another police report. “And you were arrested again just last year, for assaulting a random man on the street.”

  “It wasn’t random,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm. “He was kicking the hell out of his dog.”

  Nodding implacably, Itachi closed the file. “Both times, the victims were convinced to drop the charges after a visit from your father’s attorneys.”

  “I didn’t ask for that,” I snapped, feeling myself losing control. I had wanted to get a public defender and plead out, but my father insisted on using his lawyers. I finally conceded when he told me he was worried about how my actions woul
d look for the company.

  “A lot of veterans have a hard time settling back into civilian life,” Itachi said calmly. “But you do seem to carry a lot of anger, Sergeant Luther.”

  I ignored the formal address. He was either too polite to use my given name or he was baiting me. Either way, I wasn’t going to correct him twice.

  When I didn’t say anything else, he added in a thoughtful tone, “Although of course it makes sense for you to have some residual anger after losing a twin. And so violently, too.”

  I took a deep breath and made a point of relaxing my muscles. I may have a temper, but I know when I’m being goaded. “You’re showing off,” I said calmly. “You want me to know that you can get my police file, that you can dig into my personal life. Understood. Now I’d like to move on.”

  A small smile played at the corners of Itachi’s mouth, and for the briefest moment his glance flicked to Maven. “Very well, Sergeant—”

  I interrupted him, going on the offensive. “And I would like to know why Victor and Darcy went after my niece,” I said firmly. “One time could have been a coincidence. They might have just wanted a baby for . . . some reason.” I swallowed, forcing my mind away from that line of thought. “But they came after her a second time. They wanted this baby, Charlie, and I’d like to know why.”

  Itachi’s eyebrows raised, and he leaned back in his chair. “And what is this information worth to you?” he said casually, like I’d asked him for a stock tip.

  I said, “Am I correct in assuming you didn’t order Victor and Darcy to go after my niece?”

  For the first time, Itachi looked just the slightest bit uncertain. Again, I saw his eyes flicker toward Maven. Then his expression evened out, and with the same blank-slate detachment I’d seen in Quinn, he said, “That would be correct, yes.”

  “Then I exposed a discipline problem you didn’t know you had,” I retorted. “And for services rendered, I’d like some information.” Itachi’s eyes narrowed, but I wasn’t finished. “You must be the person to ask, if you really are in charge of all the supernatural crap in Boulder.”

  “In all of Colorado, actually,” Itachi said.

  “I wasn’t talking to you,” I replied. I twisted in my seat to look back at Maven.

  The young woman—the vampire—lifted her chin, eyes flashing. She had been leaning casually against the wall next to the office door, but when she straightened up, she didn’t look like a spacey barista anymore. When she spoke now, her voice was queenly. “I’m flattered. But I’m here as an advisor only. Itachi is in charge.”

  I eyed her. She was practically glowing with something: Charisma? Charm? “Like hell,” I said.

  A surprised smile twitched on her face. “It’s true that I have more years than Itachi,” she allowed. “But I assure you, he is in charge of the state.”

  I wasn’t sure I believed her—it was strange how Itachi kept glancing at her, and there was some kind of vibe between them I couldn’t get a bead on—but I dropped the subject. “If you’re an advisor, ma’am, would you mind joining us up here so I don’t have to turn to look at you?” And so I don’t have a stranger at my back, I thought.

  “Certainly,” Maven said graciously. She stood up and darted to the visitor’s chair next to mine. Her shuffling walk had been supplanted by the same lithe, efficient movements I’d seen in all the vampires I’d met so far.

  For his part, the leader of the Colorado Old World simply picked up the conversation where it had left off. “So, Sergeant, Quinn tells me that you were unaware of the Old World until you met Darcy and Victor. Is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “And yet you survived two encounters with them,” Maven mused. “Interesting.”

  “I had help both times, ma’am,” I said plainly. I wasn’t trying to be modest, but I also didn’t want to claim credit I didn’t deserve.

  Something about my choice of words seemed to amuse Maven a little, because the corners of her lips turned up just a little. “More than you know,” she told me. Her eyes cut over to Itachi, like she was cuing him.

  He caught it. “Until a few days ago,” he said to me, “I was unaware of your niece. Like you, I initially thought Victor and Darcy had stolen the child for their own needs. It wasn’t until Quinn told me about his encounter with her at John Wheaton’s house that I understood what she is.”

  “What is she?”

  “Charlotte Wheaton is what’s commonly called a null,” Maven explained. “A human being who nullifies the magic within a certain space around him- or herself. Of the four creatures that remain in the Old World, nulls are the rarest. I have met several before”—her eyes went unfocused and distant for a moment, then snapped back to mine—”but it has been over a century since the last one.”

  “Can you elaborate on that definition, please?”

  Maven smiled. “Nulls can undo power,” she said simply. “When we are physically close to one, our magic disappears. We are human again until we move away.”

  I considered that for a long moment while the two vampires sat unmoving. My first thought was how ridiculous it sounded—the idea that Charlie, who considered the greatest things in life to be Sesame Street, climbable furniture, and personal boxes of raisins, was some kind of traveling magic-free zone? Come on.

  But then I thought of how I’d been able to hurt both Victor and Darcy, and the way they’d both healed supernaturally fast when they moved far enough away from my niece. And how they’d been able to get into John’s house in the first place. “How close is physically close?” I asked finally.

  “Anywhere from a few feet to perhaps ten or fifteen,” Maven answered. “The area tends to expand, however, when the null loses control of her emotions.”

  “When she gets upset,” I clarified.

  “Yes.”

  More pieces fell into place. I wanted more time to think about it, to reconsider the distances at the Depot and at John’s house, when Charlie was screaming mad, but I wasn’t sure how long they would just sit there waiting for me. Already Itachi was looking bored. I decided to accept what they were saying for the moment and spend more time processing it later.

  “I guess I can see how it could be valuable to you all to be human again sometimes,” I said slowly, “but it hardly seems worth risking an AMBER Alert, especially after Victor and Darcy failed the first time. Why risk so much to kidnap a baby just because she’s a null?”

  Maven’s eyes widened a tiny bit, and I had the immediate impression that I’d made an error. “Lex, being able to neutralize magic isn’t just valuable,” she said rather patiently. “It’s far beyond invaluable for the Old World. Werewolves can stay human during the full moon, and witches, who have no supernatural strength or healing ability, are actually safe from a physical attack by either of the other factions. And vampires, well . . . we can go out in the day.”

  “There are those of us who would do much worse than risk an AMBER Alert, as you said, to be in the sunlight,” Itachi added.

  “Oh,” I said, feeling stupid.

  “To put it another way,” Maven continued, in a voice gone soft and cold, “a null can also get to anyone in the Old World, regardless of their magical defenses. She could walk right up to me and shoot me in the chest, and I would die. If you managed to find such a person while she’s young, and still programmable . . .” She trailed off, letting me fill in the blanks.

  Horrible possibilities flashed through my head. Charlie being hurt, being brainwashed. Charlie being taught to hate and kill. “I thought . . . I thought it was a human-trafficking thing,” I whispered numbly, fear sending a burst of cold electricity down my spine. Now I felt so much worse than stupid—I felt helpless. Charlie was basically the equivalent of free bacon at a dog show, and I was as useless as I was outnumbered. This changed everything.

  Maven’s eyes narrowed suddenly, and I saw her no
strils flare. A second later, Itachi shifted restlessly. Oh, God. Could they smell my panic? I was suddenly very aware of the fact that I was trapped in a tiny room with two deadly predators, and I worked to push the fear aside. I squared my shoulders and met each of their gazes in turn.

  “I want protection for my niece,” I said to Itachi. “If you really are in charge of the supernatural world in Colorado, I want you to make sure Charlie is left alone.”

  Maven tilted her head in thought, an oddly birdlike gesture that reminded me of how Victor had looked at me when he’d been unable to press my mind.

  “That is an extremely large request,” Itachi said tartly.

  “But within your power?”

  “Of course.” A hint of disdain had crept into his tone.

  “You misunderstand,” Maven said, acting as Itachi’s spokesperson. “It is not a large request because the task is too difficult. Now that Itachi is aware of Charlotte, he can make it clear that she is under his protection. But she is within his enclave, which means she is already his.” She lifted a shoulder carelessly. “Why should he care about your wishes in respect to something that is already his?”

  That shocked me. It hadn’t occurred to me that the vampire in charge might already think he owned my niece. Everything in me wanted to scream that Charlie wasn’t theirs, that my niece would never belong to anyone but herself. That I would kill every vampire in the state before I let one of them touch her. And if Itachi had said those words to me, I might have done exactly that.

  But there was something magnetic about this woman. I couldn’t explain it, even to myself, but she had a force to her, strong as gravity.

  “I suppose the question, Lex,” Maven continued, crossing her legs under the burlap-looking skirt, “is, what are you offering?”

  “Myself,” I said, firmly and immediately.

  Chapter 12

  Itachi raised a single scoffing eyebrow. “Do you have any experience in making lattes?” he asked sarcastically. I just stared at him levelly. He added in a more subdued tone, “Witches don’t work for vampires, any more than foxes work for bears.”