"You need this to stop,” Raven said slowly. “Maybe if we put enough of a scare in them they'll give you enough of a break that you can finish your negotiations to the east."
"It would be appreciated,” Mandy interjected smoothly. “Who are you people?"
"Ben Dalmas."
"Raven."
"Chaz."
"You may call me Loki."
"Are you Dr. Coyote's brother or something like that?” she asked, frowning.
"Something like that."
"Ben Dalmas,” she said softly. “Aren't you the pugilist?"
"No,” he replied, with a quick head shake. “You can consider me his brother."
"Uh-huh. And you?” Her gaze swept over Raven. “Are you the Midnight Kid's brother?"
"Sure,” he answered with the tiniest of shrugs, like it didn't matter to him who she thought he was. “Let's go deal with these Raiders."
The vampire stepped out the door and the others followed. “How are they armed?” he asked Mandy.
"Pistols and rifles, presumably. Some will have swords."
"Hmm.” A thin smile traced his lips. “Sixty of them? Sounds like fun."
The scary thing about that, Ben decided, is that he sounded like he meant it.
* * * *
They could hear the horses before they came over the hill. They crested, tack jingling in the night, and Ben could see their dark shapes descending toward them. He felt a sudden chill as they reined up. Their leader, a dark man with black hair and a sharply pointed beard looked down haughtily. “You grow bold, devil-spawn. Usually we arrive to find you all in hiding."
"It's Don Diego,” Mandy whispered to Ben, who'd taken up position right next to her. “They say he's the cruelest of them all."
"The hiding days are over,” Raven replied, eyes narrowing as he stepped forward. He swept his gaze across the Don's assembled soldiers, a sharply-dressed, uniformed outfit full of steely eyed killers. “You turn around and go home and no one needs to die today."
"That, amigo, is not going to happen. There are sixty of us but only six of you. I'm afraid all six of you are going to die today"
"You have to go through me to get to them."
The young Hidalgo's brows rose. “Sixty to one? Those are rather bad odds. He must be a madman,” he said to his troops.
His men laughed in apparent agreement.
"Yes, I know. Terrible odds. But I'm afraid you're all going to have to take your chances."
"Don't kill them,” Loki murmured. Only Ben and Raven could possibly have heard him.
Raven turned slowly, spearing the immortal with an icy gaze. “Are you trying to make this hard?"
"No. I just don't want any killing.” The look on his face made it clear he was perfectly serious. Loki was rarely completely serious.
"Jeez.” Shaking his head, the vampire turned back to face the raiders. “You sure you won't reconsider?"
"Yes,” Diego replied. “But I appreciate the offer. Honestly. Kill him,” he told his men.
Raven's hands dove beneath his jacket and came out with two nine-millimeter handguns. He glided to his right, pistols throwing out a steady roar and twin columns of continual flame. Weapons flew, knocked out of the hands of their wielders with such precision not one of them even took a flesh wound from the hail of lead that poured through their ranks.
Less than two seconds later the Don's small army had been disarmed, and at least ninety percent of them were nursing sore hands and wrists as a murmur of fear ran through them. "El Diablo," he heard one man whisper. The Devil.
Devil with a six-gun? Ben nearly smiled. Sounded like a bad western to him. Of course, Raven wasn't using six-guns. Unless I miss my guess, those are identical Glock 23s with thirty round extended clips.
Raven had just emptied both of them. The smell of cordite hung in the air. The barrels of both weapons poured smoke into the wind. “Not playing, boys,” he said in a flat tone. “Don't make me get tough."
"Holy Morrigan,” Ben heard Mandy moan behind them. “And they say the Midnight Kid is fast. And without killing a single one of the Don's soldiers."
"He's a special kind of guy,” Loki said with a smirk. “So,” he called out, stepping forward into the arc of the light so the Don could see him for Dr. Coyote's exact double, “are we agreed that you should simply turn around and ride back the way you came?"
Face darkening with anger, the Don spat a string of Spanish curses. He jerked back on his horse's reins and spun the creature around. “This is not over, Señor Midnight Kid."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's what all the villains say,” Raven snorted. “Ta-ta. Hasta Lambada.” He tucked one of the pistols away and waved cheerfully. “I'm going to miss that guy."
Ben snickered.
"I've never seen anyone but one of our kind move like that,” Dr. Coyote said to Loki. “And he's definitely not one of us. What is he?"
"Raven's a vampire,” Loki answered. “You know what that is?"
"In legend only,” Dr. Coyote replied. “Are you telling me that they're real in your world?"
"They are now,” Raven hissed. “Thanks to Loki."
"Really?” This caught Dr. Coyote's attention. “So, do you think you could share—"
"No,” Ben said, grabbing Dr. Coyote by one arm and leading him back toward his wagon. Raven's hot gaze followed their path. “Sharing is a bad thing. Let's forget all about sharing."
"But...” Dr. Coyote craned his head around, trying to see Loki, who stood there scratching his chin, looking thoughtful.
"Trust me,” Ben told him. “You don't want to know.” Sure, Ben. This is Loki—like telling him anything is going to keep him from doing what he wants. He'd heard plenty about Loki at the Academy. He had a certain reputation for spreading chaos. The way it looked to Ben right now, there wasn't much exaggeration to it at all.
Doesn't mean I can't try.
Raven's eyes were cold by the time Dr. Coyote's door closed behind him.
I can't believe he let me do that. Ben crossed the twenty or so feet back to his group. Raven turned away from answering a question of Mandy's and met Ben's gaze.
"Thank you."
"Not a problem,” Ben answered with a nod. “I understand."
"Yes, I suppose you do. Neither of us wants more monsters made."
"You're not a monster, Cory."
The vampire gave him a long, measuring look. “Maybe not. But I don't know how close you can get to the line before stumbling over it. I'm a killer, Ben. I kill humans at Hades bidding, allegedly to protect Gavin Chase's wife and kid, and then I kill the vampires they turn into. I'm not sure what I am anymore."
"You need to make a choice."
"Either piss or get off the pot?” Raven let out a harsh laugh. “I could say the same to you."
Ben kicked at the dirt beneath his feet. “It's not that easy."
"Nothing ever is."
"Like that's news,” Ben snorted. “So what do you think of all this?"
"Jumping between universes like this?” Raven shook his head. “I don't know. But something about it bothers me. We stay in our own world, we can only screw it up. We go bouncing around from world to world we can screw things up for a hell of a lot of people. I don't think I'm willing to take on that kind of responsibility. Are you?"
"Hell, I'm not completely sure I want to be a goddam LEOPARD,” Ben muttered. “Some kind of covert super-cop, leading the fight to rid the world of dangerous monsters? Sounds like the lead-in for a really bad HDV show."
"Someone has to do it. You and I both consider this more of a curse than a gift."
Ben nodded, throwing a surreptitious glance over at Mandy, who'd been drawn into a conversation with Loki and Chaz. “Sometimes."
Raven followed his gaze. “Idiot,” he muttered.
"What?"
"If you're just going to spend all your time pining over her and never actually make a move, you might as well forget the whole thing."
"And you'r
e offering this advice because ... why? After three years of being dead you're suddenly an expert on male/female relationships? I don't think so."
"No, Ben,” Raven answered, shaking his head, “I'm an expert on regrets. There's nothing more painful, in the end, than regretting the things you didn't do."
It's not like you're really dead, Cory. At least not the lying down and letting the worms eat you kind of dead. You can fix your regrets as well. At least some of them. “Well, that's not Amanda. Not my Amanda."
"Hello, Mr. Obvious. I'm not suggesting you start hitting on her. I'm suggesting you do something about your feelings for the real Amanda. For your Amanda."
"Didn't you and Renee both tell me to stay away from her?"
Raven ran his fingers through his thick black hair. “At the time it was a good idea. I'm not so sure now."
"Should I ask Renee, too?"
"Ask Renee what?” Loki asked, appearing at Ben's elbow.
He uttered a low growl. He hadn't meant to say anything about this to the immortal. God help them all if Loki decided to involve himself. Too late now.
He could always make something up, but he had the feeling Loki would know the difference. Irritating him wouldn't be a good idea. Damn immortals. Meddling bastards, all of them.
He knew that wasn't exactly a fair assessment. Some of them didn't meddle much, if at all. One of the introductory classes at the Academy had been in identifying the immortals. Most of them had forms they preferred, even if they did have some sort of talent for altering their physical features at will.
He found that a bit creepy, actually. He wasn't sure if it was some sort of illusion, or simply greater control over the body than possessed by most mortals. Maybe it's a little bit of both.
"It's a girl,” Raven said with a grin.
Loki cocked an eyebrow at the lycanthrope. “A particular girl?” He glanced over his shoulder at Mandy, who was still deep in conversation with Chaz.
"Yeah, a particular girl,” Ben growled. “Not that one."
"Good to hear,” the immortal replied, clearly amused by this point, “considering you met her all of fifteen minutes ago. You're talking about her doppelganger, aren't you? Amanda Keening?"
Ben sighed. Was his interest in Amanda a secret to anyone? Well, anyone besides Amanda? Of course, he wasn't even sure she didn't know. Maybe she did and just didn't care. Or, worse, wanted him to just go away.
She'd seen him in werewolf form. She'd seen him try to eat someone. She'd actually been the one who stopped him.
If he found the notion revolting, how had she taken it? He was practically consumed by the urge at the time—it wasn't as though he had to see it first-hand. “Yes,” he said, answering Loki's query. “I'm talking about Amanda Keening."
Loki flashed a victorious grin. “I knew it! Renee was being way too secretive about something to do with the two of you. That's what I figured it was."
Ben's eyes narrowed as he regarded the immortal. “What are you talking about?"
"Oh. Well, you know the operation, right? That Amanda and Athena came up with a plan to insert her undercover into her grandfather's house and business? They had a huge fake fight in public, then Amanda pretended to go crawling back to Grey?"
"Figured it was something like that,” Ben murmured. “What about it?"
"After that little debacle in Grey's offices, they wanted to keep you out of the loop. They don't want you screwing things up by barging in there and throwing a fit."
"That's why she warned me off?” Ben couldn't quite hide the irritation he felt at this revelation. All she really had to do was tell him exactly what was going on rather than issuing orders. He was starting to regret signing up with the Academy in the first place. The notion of just going along and blindly accepting orders was chafing like an ill-fitting collar. Only a fool tries to collar a werewolf, he thought with a mental smirk.
"That's why,” Loki said. “She knows how you feel about the girl—and how she feels about you. Though neither of you want to admit it to one another, for some crazy reason. Well, that's between you two. But, if you want my advice, I'd say you oughta just go for it. What could it hurt, right? If she blows you off there's a thousand more of them where she came from.” He aimed a pointed glance at Mandy. “Literally."
"I'll keep it mind,” Ben huffed. “You know—you should start your own advice column. ‘Dear Loki.’”
The immortal gave a snort. “Mind your manners, boy. Sarcasm's bad for you."
"Oh? How so?"
"It annoys your friends,” Loki answered, turning and walking away without another word.
He might have a point there, Ben mused. He was just trying to help.
Then it occurred to him. Sometimes that particular immortal's idea of helping ends worse than if he didn't help at all.
"I can't stick around much longer,” Raven told him. “I have to be back before dawn. Not only does it prevent my bursting into flames and dying an agonizing death, but they usually send someone into my cell to check on me about then."
"One of these days they're going to check on you in the middle of the night and you'll be screwed,” Ben observed.
"Maybe so. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. In the meantime,” he said, patting his friend on the shoulder, “I'd better be getting back.” He approached Chaz and exchanged a few words Ben couldn't hear. The engineer plucked something out of one of his many pockets and handed it over. Raven spoke a moment with Loki, then headed down the hill.
The worldgate sprang into existence just as the vampire reached it. He turned and waved, then leaped through.
Well. Now what?
Fifteen
Amanda woke the next morning feeling queasy, almost as if she'd drank too much the night before. She took a long shower to slough the sensation away, but, even after fifteen minutes under the scalding water she still felt like hell.
Of particular concern was a sore spot on her inner forearm. Not only was it tender, but she could see an odd red patch and what looked like a small perforation. A needle mark? She prodded it with a forefinger as she sat in front of her room's dormer window and gazed out over the emerald expanse of the estate's lawn.
Something told her this was important. Had she been drugged? It was possible. She hadn't even thought to check for that sort of thing, even though she should've known it could happen. Her grandfather didn't trust her—and with good reason. She was here to get evidence against him.
But why did he want her here in the first place? Why had he initially tried to kidnap her? None of this made sense. He told her that he wanted her to take the reins of the company, but, if he did, why all this cloak and dagger crap? She felt as though everything he said to her, and the people around him in her presence, was somehow in code ... a code understood by everyone but her.
She found herself tempted to flee. To take what little she knew at this point and just get the hell out. Her skin crawled with a sense of foreboding. If you don't get out now, a tiny voice inside her head seemed to wail, you may never get out.
Great, she thought, my conscience has gone paranoid on me.
The worst thing was that she didn't feel in the least bit paranoid. She felt as though she was in danger. Serious danger, and getting worse by the hour. She stepped away from the dormer seat and cast a circle in the middle of the floor. She started pulling in threads, weaving spell after spell until she felt a little better knowing she had twenty two or three strand spells in her web.
She released the circle and stood, a little wobbly, and stumbled toward the door. She got to within about six feet of it and stumbled face-first into the solid oak door. She felt something snap in her wrist and cried out in pain as she sank to the floor. She was so weak.
Someone was pounding on the door. Then she felt it pushing against her. She felt a shudder run through her body, a shudder so strong it bordered on a full-blown seizure. She clawed at the floor, trying to get out of the way. Her wounded hand fell to the floor and she b
it back a shriek.
She slid across the floor as something shoved the door hard. She caught a glimpse of someone large, someone she didn't recognize, leaning over her just before someone put out the lights.
* * * *
She woke some time later, stretched out on a chaise lounge in another room in the house—her grandfather's den? She wasn't sure, but the room was permeated with the scent of cigar smoke and good whiskey. Assuming there even was such a thing.
She felt her stomach heave and rolled onto her side, vomiting into a tub someone had placed there apparently for that very purpose. After a few minutes she rolled onto her back and panted as her body seemed suffused in heat, almost as though she was laying under a heat lamp. What's happening to me?
She'd been left inexplicably alone. That she understood least of all. She was sick and not only weren't they taking her to the doctor, or a hospital, they didn't have anyone watching over her. That does it. I'm getting out of here.
She fought her way to her feet, staggering only a few feet across the floor before she tried to switch to magesight. It took a few tries, the vision coming in fits and starts like a HDV signal broadcast through damaged cable lines. But she managed to grab a mana thread and create a transit tube, though she felt as though the effort would be enough to make her pass out.
She threw herself through the tube and tumbled bonelessly onto the lawn. She climbed to her feet and started across the estate before realizing she was still in a nightgown. She didn't even remember putting it on in the first place. She'd been in a pair of stretch pants and a tee shirt when she took the header in front of her door.
Someone had stripped her, put her in a nightgown that wasn't even hers, and left her alone in the den. But why?
The idea made her a little queasier than she was already. She trekked across the wet grass in a staggering run, breath bursting in tiny plumes from nostrils and mouth as the cold winter drizzle drove down on her.
* * * *
She'd been out for hours. The last time she remembered looking at a clock it had been ten in the morning. Night had fallen like a black shroud and she was stumbling out here in the dark.
"Amanda!” someone roared behind her. She reeled around, magesight coming just long enough for her to snatch a particularly nasty offensive spell from her web as she blinked against the wet to make out the figure charging across the lawn at her.
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