by Kim Harrison
I took a breath to protest, but the sharp click-clack of heels and the soft hiss of scuffing sneakers sounded against the cement footbridge. Kisten’s sister was in her early thirties, maybe. She must have had Audric young, but most living vampires did in case of premature death. The few lines in her face were from stress and anger. Dressed in a trendy business suit, she gave the impression of a pissed CEO, dragging her unfortunate offspring along on a day-with-mommy-at-work excursion, powerful and harried all at the same time.
“Damn it, Chrissie,” Kisten said as he gave her a hug. “I told you that Sean was scum.”
The family resemblance was uncanny, save that she didn’t dye her hair, letting the long, dark waves curl gently around her face. Anger was a dark sheen in her eyes, the pupils so large they looked black in the sun. She didn’t let go of the little boy’s hand as she embraced Kisten, her lips brushing his cheek for an instant. I could smell a whiff of citrus scented perfume.
“I love you, too,” she said dryly as she dropped back. Her eyes flicked to me, then back to Kisten. “Thanks for helping me. They aren’t far behind.”
Her voice was strong, but I could hear fear in it, not for herself, but for her child. She looked at me again, and I stuck my hand out.
“I’m Rachel,” I said, seeing as Kisten wasn’t going to introduce us. “Kisten’s girlfriend.”
Her grip was tight and preoccupied. “Nice to meet you. You’re a witch, aren’t you?”
I nodded, not surprised she could tell. Vampires had better noses than just about any non-human species, apart from pixies. “Yup.”
Kisten ruffled the little boy’s hair and said, “Rachel has her own running firm with Ivy.”
The woman actually blinked, and a thin rim of blue appeared around her pupil. “You live with Ivy? In that church? It is a true pleasure to meet you.”
Her smile became a whole lot more . . . accepting, as if she was taking me serious now. Not as in “I want to take a bite out of you,” but as an equal. It was a nice feeling—one I didn’t get much.
Seeing that we weren’t going to be at each other’s throats—literally—Kisten dropped down on his knee to Audric’s height. “Hey, Squirt. How you doing?”
The little boy looked up. There were tear marks on his cheeks, wiped away and probably vigorously denied. “Hi, Uncle Kisten,” he said softly as he rubbed his arm where a handprint showed. “I don’t feel so good.”
Kisten rose with the youngster on his hip, and it surprised me how right he looked there. “I’m sorry,” he said as he made a little hop to settle him. “Your mom and I are going to take care of that right now.” He turned to me. “This is Ms. Rachel. Rachel, this is Audric.”
I smiled, thinking he looked like Kisten. “Hi, Audric.”
The boy turned away to hide his face in Kisten’s neck.
“Audric,” Kisten admonished in a very adult voice. “This is a very handsome woman. She’s too old for you, but don’t be shy. Her name is Rachel.”
Chrissie put a hand to her hip. “Kisten . . .”
But Audric turned and gazed at me with big, beautiful blue eyes. His past tears made his eyelashes long and beautiful. “Hi, Ms. Rachel,” he said, and I knew he was going to break hearts when he got older. Vampires make beautiful children, products of centuries of careful breeding by their long-lived masters who enjoy beauty and have the time to play with bloodlines like master artists play with pigments.
“That’s better,” Kisten said, and my gut twisted at the thought that Kisten was as much a product of Piscary’s breeding as this child. “Never be afraid of beautiful women.”
“Kisten . . .” Chrissie said again, her tone carrying a lot more impatience.
Kisten looked across the park, a hint of worry in his eyes. “There’s always time to be polite,” he said as he picked up the takeout and turned to the parking lot and my car. I didn’t know how we were all going to fit. My car didn’t really have a back seat.
But we stopped when the distinctive sound of a van door sliding open scraped through the peaceful afternoon. Beside my little convertible, five people were getting out of a white panel van. They were all dressed in suits and wore shades. Living vampires, and not from Cincinnati. Their stance of brash confidence screamed of being on someone else’s ground but not giving a crap about it.
I turned the other way to find five men closing in from over the grassy knoll. “Too late,” I whispered as the three of us came to a clustered halt on the highpoint of the wide footbridge.
Audric’s eyes were huge, but he was silent. His mother took him from Kisten, managing his weight easily. “Don’t start a fight,” she said, fear in her voice.
Kisten turned to her. “How do you propose I keep him from taking Audric then?”
Think, Rachel, think. “Sharps?” I called out, wondering if the resident bridge troll I’d befriended when I worked for the I.S. might still be here. He’d help even if it was sunny—as long as the I.S. hadn’t chased him out again. But there was no answering wispy gurgle or whoosh of water. We were on our own against ten living vampires. Fair fight, I thought, warming to the task, then realized I was standing over water. Damn it, I couldn’t tap a ley line to do a line charm, and all my earth charms were in the car.
“Stop right there,” Kisten said, hands extended both ways. His posture was hunched and he looked like a predator with his eager, black eyes. I felt the adrenaline dump into me, and I stepped from Chrissie to give myself room to move. I didn’t have my charms, but I still had my fists and feet. This is so not good. I have to get off this bridge.
A thin man in a business suit pushed to the front of the group that had come over the grass. It had to be Audric’s dad from the blond hair and facial structure. “That’s my boy,” he said simply, pointing to show he was wearing too many rings. “He comes with me.”
Good, I thought. No monologue. Right to it. I had things I had to do today.
Audric shivered, and his mother gripped him tighter. Kisten let his arms drop now that both groups had halted at the ends of the bridge. “I’m his uncle,” he said softly, his voice making the sensation of ice down my spine. “If you think you can take him, try.”
Sean looked past us to the five vamps from the van. I moved my fingers as if I was starting a ley line charm, and he pressed his lips together, recognizing it.
“You feel lucky?” Kisten added, almost laughing.
This wasn’t good. This was so not good. We were standing here on a bluff. Me being beaten up was one thing, but that kid could not be taken. Worried, I sidled closer to Kisten. “Kisten?” I hedged. “Tell me you ate your Wheaties today.”
He glanced at me then back to Sean. “Relax. I already hit 911 on my phone. Set a circle and we’ll wait them out until the I.S. gets here.”
“I’m over water, Kisten,” I said pointedly. “I can’t.”
There was the slightest tick to his eye, but he didn’t move otherwise. “Oh,” he said without moving his lips. “We have a problem then.”
Chrissie’s eyes were black again as she shifted closer, and sensing a new weakness, the group from the van took a collective step forward.
“Delay them,” I said. “He thinks I can tap a ley line, or he’d be on us by now. Maybe we can get off the bridge.”
Kisten’s sister took a deep breath. Her face was pale as she saw her world teetering. I was getting the distinct impression she would die twice before giving Audric up. But she was a Phelps, and she was thinking. “He’s mine,” she said loudly. “I never would have slept with you if I knew you were married, you lying bastard.”
Sean copped an attitude, with all the anger and hurt he had never let go. “Chrissie—”
“You never wanted him!” she screamed, and I wondered if the old couple had left. “Get the hell out of Cincy before you wake up dead!”
“Lovely as ever, little bitch.”
I stiffened, but Kisten stepped between us, his phenomenal people skills, a mix of charm and vampire
charisma, coming to the forefront. “And I’m a low-life Romeo,” he said, self-deprecatingly. “Sean, it’s not going to happen. Leave under your own power, or limping. I don’t care.”
Sean stepped forward, and Kisten raised a warning hand. “Put one foot on this bridge, and it will get ugly,” he promised, and Sean stopped from the force of his words alone. “You and Chrissie need to talk.”
“Kisten!” his sister complained, and I watched both groups of vampires relax at the apparent mutiny among the enemy. The thing was, it was all contrived.
“You screwed up, Chrissie!” Kisten shouted, but his lips were quirking in a faint smile only we three could see. “Talk to him. Find out what he wants.”
Get one of us the hell off this bridge, I thought to myself.
“He wants my baby!” she said, clutching Audric.
“Well, it’s his boy.”
“He abandoned us!” she shrieked, and I risked a look to see that the old couple on the bench was still there.
“You left him, which is why he’s here with his balls in his hands, begging.”
Sean stiffened, and seeing he was pushing it, Kisten eased back. “Give the guy a break,” he added. “Talk to him.”
Chrissie was one hell of an actress, but still my heart was pounding when she looked at the scum backed by his ten guys. “What do you want, Sean?” she asked. “Joint custody?”
He laughed. “Sure. Joint custody,” he said, telling me if he touched the boy, he would be gone forever.
“You just want him because your hickey-sucker died,” she said bitterly. “Go to hell.”
The men from the van inched closer. “Can we please get off this bridge?” I muttered.
Kisten eyed them, then nodded almost imperceptibly. “Sean, get back. We’re coming off the bridge to talk.”
We took a step forward, then froze at the sight of three weapon muzzles pointing at us. Oh, how nice. Vampires with guns.
“Stay there,” Sean said. “You and the witch don’t move. Chrissie and the boy, come here.”
My eyebrows rose. Right . . . Just how stupid did he think we were? But if he wanted me to stay where I was, he had figured out I was at least partially helpless here. Crap.
Chrissie looked pained, and Kisten reached out to take Audric. “Just talk to him, sis,” he said softly. “The I.S. is bound to show up eventually.”
God, what I would give for my backup right now.
Audric went easily into Kisten’s arms, and I wondered at the complete trust the boy had, coupled with his instinctive understanding of how deep into the shit we all were. He was terrified, but there were no tears, just trust that we would die for him. Well, Kisten and Chrissie might. Dead was dead for me, so I was going to be a little more careful.
“Audric stays,” Kisten said as Chrissie walked slowly toward her ex, and Sean grinned.
“Can’t blame me for trying,” he said.
Can’t blame me for wanting to jam my elbow into your nose, I thought, my knees starting to shake from the accumulated adrenaline.
Chrissie got to the end of the bridge and waited for them to back off a good eight feet before walking between them. I didn’t feel any less secure standing here with only Kisten. Chrissie didn’t know how to fight, so her help would have been chancy at best.
Kisten jiggled Audric as his mother moved a small distance away and started to talk under the trees. My tension eased into a ready state, and I started to notice what was going on outside of the narrow space around us. The park was empty but for those two old people on the bench. The wind was just as fresh and the sun just as bright, but the fear in that little boy was enough to chill the strongest soul.
The vampires from the van had dropped back, and I watched them close to make sure no one slid under the bridge to take us from surprise. That they might was probably why Sean agreed to this . . . parley.
“How you holding up, Sport?” Kisten said as he sat Audric on the wide cement railing.
The boy blinked several times, and took a deep breath, relaxing as he intentionally took in the pheromones Kisten was giving off. “I’m scared,” he admitted when he could.
“That’s okay.” Kisten laid a hand on his shoulder. “This is scary shit. But your mom is smart. She takes good care of you, right?”
He nodded.
“Good.” Kisten looked over at his sister, violently arguing with Sean. “She loves you very much. Never forget that. No matter what happens.”
It sounded like final advice, and that had me worried. There was a good chance the I.S. wouldn’t respond, especially if Piscary had arranged the abduction himself, either to bring Chrissie in line or to cement relations with the outside camarilla of vampires. In that case, we were really on our own.
Audric squinted in the sun up at me, then Kisten. “Are you and Ms. Rachel going to get married?” he asked from nowhere.
My mouth dropped open, and Kisten started. “Ah, not today, Sport. Maybe someday.”
Oh God. I’d forgotten kids were like that, and I warmed.
“Do you kiss her?” the boy asked.
Kisten grinned as his hand fell from Audric’s shoulder. “Every chance I get.”
Audric thought about that for a moment as he picked at a bit of mortar and dropped it into the water for the bridge troll to eat. “Mommy says if you love someone, and you like kissing them, and they don’t ever, ever hurt you, you should marry them.”
If only it was that simple.
Audric squinted up at me, and I panicked, not knowing what had come into that little brain and was now going to come out his mouth. “Do you hurt Uncle Kisten?” he asked.
I opened my mouth to answer—it was a disturbing question for anyone but a vampire child—but Kisten beat me to it. “Only my heart, Audric,” he said. “Ms. Rachel is like the sun. See her sparkling there with the wind in her hair and fire in her eyes? You can’t catch the sun. You can only feel its touch on your face. And if you get too much of it, it burns you.”
It had been nice until the end, and I made a sour face.
“Maybe you should kiss her in the dark,” was Audric’s next thought, and I smiled.
“That’s a good idea,” Kisten said as he handed him the bag of cold takeout. “Why don’t you feed the ducks.”
It was a good distraction, but that frightened, brave little boy kept an eye on his mother the entire time he coaxed the ducks in. He was wise beyond his six years, and I wondered what his life had been like so far, protected by his mother, shielded from a master vampire’s view. Seeing. Knowing. Helpless.
I watched Kisten break apart the folded bit of bland pastry for him, knowing that their bond went deeper than uncle and nephew. They were the same, only at different places, and seeing them together, the sun glinting on their hair and their thoughts on their future as they calmly fed the ducks, I felt sick.
Kisten felt my misery, and he turned. Seeing my expression, he murmured a few words to Audric and left him with a handful of fried bread.
“The sun, eh?” I said as he stood beside me.
Kisten brushed by that, telling me how worried he was. “Sharps isn’t here, is he?”
I shook my head, watching Audric feed the ducks as his future hung in the balance of the next few minutes. “He looks a lot like you,” I offered.
Kisten’s brow smoothed to make him beautiful. “He’s got the Phelps eyes.”
“And his dad’s hair,” I added.
Wincing, Kisten ran a hand through his own dyed strands. “And his mother’s smarts. God, I hate it when this happens. It’s hard to keep the beautiful children from them.”
He meant a master vampire, not Sean. And my face went cold as I finally understood what was going on. That’s why Sean had taken an interest. Not for him, but for his master. Audric was going to be a present. A freaking gift. “He’s six years old!” I hissed, clutching my arms around my middle.
His eyes on his feet, Kisten nodded. “That’s why he had an affair with Chrissie. He
wanted a pretty child to offer his master other than his own.”
Frantic, I shifted, frustrated and helpless. This was not going to happen. It wasn’t!
“A pretty child?” I exclaimed, then dropped my voice. Audric was scared enough.
Kisten pulled his gaze up. I could see an old fear, shame, maybe, deep in his thoughts. “A master vampire won’t touch a child,” he said, “but they do like to find them early so as to have a say in their upbringing. Make sure they take the right classes, make the right friends.” Kisten threw a chunk of fried bread at a duck and it splashed short.
Generally make them powerless while giving them the trappings of importance, I thought. It was Kisten all over, and the first real glimmer of his past was scaring me shitless.
“Kisten, I’m sorry,” I said as I reached to touch his arm.
He was smiling with old pain as he met my gaze. “Don’t be. I love my life.”
But still . . . there was regret.
“I have a good life,” he said, his gaze pinched as it landed on Audric, seemingly oblivious but taking it all in. “I have a lot of opportunities that I otherwise wouldn’t.”
“And yet you’re fighting to keep Audric away from them.”
Kisten’s jaw clenched, then relaxed. “Audric is smart,” he said softly. “He doesn’t need a master vampire to open doors for him. He’s better than that.” He threw another piece of bread, landing it far farther than I could throw and making the ducks work for it. “He’s the son I’m never going to have, and I don’t want him to go through the hell I did.”
Stomach queasy, I trailed my hand down his arm and slipped my fingers into his. No children. Because of Piscary. Piscary wanted a child from Kisten to further his plans, and saying no was Kisten’s last bastion of defiance, one small way to say that he didn’t belong to Piscary—even if he did.
For all the power and privilege Piscary gave Kisten, it came with a cost that his children might be called on to pay. And Kisten didn’t want Audric to pay it. Feeling ill, I gave Kisten’s hand a squeeze. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“I’m happy. Shut the hell up, Rachel,” he said, his fingers gentle in mine.