She sighed. “You've been talking to Renee, haven't you?"
He shrugged. “Seemed like the best thing to do. I had to know why you kept pushing me away. I thought it was because I'm a monster, but Renee told me that you didn't see me that way either."
"You're not a monster, Ben. Even if the heart of a wolf beats beneath that broad chest of yours, you're one of the most decent human beings I know. Hell, it's the full humans that make the worst monsters. Look at my grandfather."
"I know. I hear you're giving GreyCorp to Athena."
"Giving isn't quite the right word,” she said slyly. “Let's say I'm selling it to her for a price not too many people would meet."
"Oh? What price is that?"
"A month's leave at the Academy to keep an eye on you, five million dollars, and a permanent ten percent share of company stock."
"You drive a hard bargain."
"It runs in the family. Oh—I forgot to mention. Cory—Raven—and I are planning on taking a trip down to Redburn to see our families. I can clear a weekend or so for you from school if you like."
"That sounds good. When?"
"When I think I'm up to it.” She patted the edge of the bed. “Sit down,” she ordered.
He gingerly lowered his butt onto the bed next to her. She reached up and drew a hand down his shoulder and his well muscled arm, swelled against the tight sleeve of his plain black sweatshirt. “I never thanked you for always being there when I needed you,” she murmured.
"I didn't do it for thanks,” he said with a grimace.
"I know that,” she replied. “Doesn't mean you don't deserve any."
Their eyes met and she dug her fingers into his sleeve, dragging him downward. He allowed her to pull him down, eyes locked on hers. Then, swift as a bullet, their lips met and breath flowed from one to the other as if carrying some invisible force between them.
Her heart hammering in her chest, Amanda ran her open hands around his ribs, pulling him tighter against her. Her head started to swim but she couldn't bring herself to break this magical and physical connection between them.
She opened her mouth, thrusting her tongue out experimentally. He caught it with his own and twirled it under, sucking it between his lips before rolling his mouth to the side and nibbling along the side of her mouth. He tasted hot and warm as she shifted her head to capture his lips with her own again.
He broke away finally, taking a deep breath and grinning down at her. “I think that's enough for now,” he admonished her. “Any more and things are going to get a little warm for the hospital. We'll set off monitors in all the nearby rooms if we're not careful."
"We probably raised the heart rates of everyone on the floor,” she giggled.
The nurse chose that moment to enter, her gaze disapproving as she bustled about the room. “Visiting hours are almost over,” she told Ben.
"Go,” Amanda told him. “We'll pick up where we left off when I get out of here. Which will be soon, right?” she added, with a telling glance at the nurse.
The woman heaved a long-suffering sigh and nodded. “As soon as the doctor decides you're all right."
"Which better be soon,” Amanda growled warningly. She brushed her fingertips across Ben's hip as he started to step away from the bed. “I'll call you when I'm released. You can borrow a car from the school to come and get me, can't you?"
"What, don't want to make the ride on my bike?” he asked with a shark-like grin.
"Absolutely not,” she answered. “Forget that noise."
He laughed. “Get some rest. I'll be back tomorrow—or when you're released. Whichever comes first."
"Okay. Take care of yourself, will you?"
"Always do,” he told her.
She watched him walk out, trying to deny the sudden emptiness that swept up to fill her chest. I can't be falling in love with him, she thought. Not this quickly.
But the denial did no good at all. She'd never felt anything like it, but something told her that this, without a doubt, was love. And, judging by the way it made her feel, it was easily vastly underrated, or vastly overrated.
She wasn't sure exactly which.
* * * *
"I don't know exactly how to bring this up,” Mandy Keening said suddenly, as she and Raven stood together on the edge of the rooftop of St. Joe's hospital, watching a full moon slide out from behind the Cascades.
"Just say it,” Raven sighed. The girl was a frustrating mix of confidence and insecurity—interacting with her sometimes bordered on the maddening.
"Before you turned me I was curious about you, and more than a little attracted, but now I guess I just don't feel the same way."
He turned toward her, lifting one feathered brow. “Oh? And why is that?"
She shrugged. “I don't know. It's not that I don't like you. You're a good guy. But this is a much wider world than mine and, frankly, I'm just not that interested in being tied down."
Raven started laughing so hard he nearly threw himself off the edge of the roof. After the laughter had died down he braced himself on the nearby satellite dish and shook his head at her. “You don't know how relieved I am to hear that. I like you too, but I'm certainly not ready for anything at all serious. Now that the past few years are done and gone, and I'm free of my obligations to Gavin Chase, I just want to get down to the serious business of living. So to speak."
She looked as though she wasn't sure she should be relieved or offended. “That's great."
He grinned at her. “Yes, it is, isn't it? Come on. There's a big shindig down at the Coyote Blue. I don't want to miss it.” He cast out a two-thread transit tube and waited for her to do the same. They stepped out into empty air and vanished through a hole in space.
* * * *
"Demons!” someone yelled, as the twelve Abyssians came through the front door. People started to panic until Loki's voice came crackling over the loudspeaker.
"They're not demons!” he said. “They're called Abyssians, and they were created by the same agency that created the goblins! They're people, just like you or I! No need to worry—you'll be seeing more of them as time goes on. Just sit down and enjoy your drinks. The entertainment will be starting shortly."
It said a lot about the patrons’ trust in Loki that they settled back down into their chairs, though some muttered darkly as they hitched sidelong glances as the Abyssians as they crowded around three large tables. They were forced to stand, unable to use the tall stools that had originally been placed around the table. None of them seemed to mind too much.
The patrons were nearly as shocked to see a human among them, a medium sized Asian man deep in conversation with their apparent leader—a woman who would be absolutely gorgeous if not for her size, the length of the talons on her hands, and the bat-wings folded against her broad back. The conversation, though soft enough no one could overhear, held all the earmarks of an intimate one.
More than one patron got up and left upon seeing that. It was one thing to drink with the monsters, but to become romantically involved with them?
Suddenly the huge HDV screen on the back wall sparked to life. The face of Leslie Chen, ABC's most popular correspondent, appeared there many times its actual size. “This is Leslie Chen, ABC News, reporting live from Las Vegas."
The camera backed away, revealing the front entrance of the strip's newest casino—The Haunted Castle—and a veritable army of police and medical aid vehicles.
"The Haunted Castle was the scene of an attempted robbery by a well-organized and determined group of metahuman criminals. Unfortunately, it seems they made a terrible mistake when they chose this particular location to rob."
The camera panned a little to her left, revealing a golden-skinned young man standing beside her. “With me is the owner of The Haunted Castle, Mister Darian Brooks."
Brooks smiled politely. Chen gave him an ingratiating smile, quite different than anything anyone had ever seen her use on an interviewee before, and almost could h
ave been said to simper. “So can you tell us what happened, Mr. Brooks?"
"It was a pretty normal night, actually. Anyone who's ever been in a casino pretty much knows how it goes. About nine o-clock a group of men and women entered through the front door there. One of them made a gesture at one of the teller cages and ripped the door off without even touching it."
"Without touching it?” Chen asked. “Like telekinetically?"
Brooks shrugged. “I don't have any idea how he did it, but that's as good an explanation as any."
"Then what happened?"
"It automatically set off an alarm upstairs to our security services bullpen. I usually spend much of my time up there, so when the alarm went off, the video surveillance of the teller's cage kicked on. So the six of us went downstairs to put a stop to it."
"You said that these were metahuman criminals? How did the six of you ‘put a stop to it,’ as you say."
"Well, it might *bleep* a few people off that I'm telling you this, but I really don't care much right now. I want people to know that the Haunted Castle is a safe place to visit, and that threats from these kinds of people won't be tolerated and will be handled with the utmost speed.
"The truth of the matter is—we're vampires."
"Vampires? Like ‘I vant to suck your blood—type vampires?"
Brooks had the decency to look a little disgusted at the question. “Something like that, I suppose. But being a vampire doesn't mean you're a killer. We don't have to kill to feed—something that most meat-eating mortals can't say."
"I certainly can't argue with that. So your whole security crew is made up of vampires, then?"
"Yes, it is. But we're looking at hiring a few werewolves to pick up the slack on the floor, and to handle daytime security issues."
"Werewolves,” she repeated, in an amazed, breathy voice. “You're serious, aren't you?"
"Dead serious,” he responded, his eyes twinkling at the pun, though his face remained completely still. “Yes, folks, vampires and werewolves exist. I don't know for a fact, but I assume that we are both products of similar viruses to that which created the metahumans."
"How ... interesting. Well, I'm glad you managed to capture the criminals without anyone being seriously hurt. They are, right now, in police custody?"
"Yes, Leslie. We captured them and used our vampiric powers to send them into a deep trance-like state. How the authorities will manage to keep them in custody is a bit more problematic, but that sounds like a job for the PAC to me."
"Indeed it does. Thank you very much, Mr. Brooks. This is Leslie Chen, in Las Vegas. Back to you, John."
The image faded, replaced an instant later with the sober, almost hang-dog countenance of John Palmer, the ABC anchor. “That was Leslie Chen, reporting from Las Vegas.
"More on that story. Mr. Brooks happily handed over copies of the casino's security tapes to ABC and the police investigators. Having seen them myself, I don't think there is any doubt in our minds that what they show is a group of vampires going up against and defeating a large, well-armed team of metahuman criminals. We literally had to view the action in time lapse to see the vampires movements. Our best technical experts have already determined that the tapes were not doctored in any way.
"We have contacted the PAC and are waiting a response from Athena Cross. Now, on to other news ... the fighting in—” The screen went dead.
"Well, shit.” Raven, Athena, and Shea all stood, pulling on their jackets.
Ben glanced up at them, frowning. “Where are you guys going?"
"Isn't it obvious?” Athena asked. “I'm going to field all the calls that will be coming into the PAC offices, Raven's headed for Vegas, and Shea is...” She shot a glance at the squat immortal. “What are you doing, Deryk?"
"I'm going with Raven,” he said. “He's going to need someone with some political savvy on hand when it hits the fan. And since you're going to be busier than a one legged man in an ass-kicking contest, I figure I'm the best choice to go."
"How are you getting there?” Ben asked, standing and reaching for his own jacket. “You realize I'm going too, right?"
"Without checking with Amanda? That seems a bit ... rash, don't you think?” Athena cocked her head and regarded him with the strangest expression. “Besides, you're supposed to start school again at the beginning of next week."
"Amanda will understand,” Ben told her, hoping all the while that she would. “And school can wait. I'm not sure what you think it can teach me that I can't learn working the streets."
"Plenty,” Athena replied. “But you're right. They're going to need someone along to protect Raven in the daytime, if nothing else."
"I'd take Amanda along too, if she'd been released. But I think we'd better get moving now. This is going to blow up in our faces if we're not on top of it as soon as possible.” Shea shrugged into his suit coat and peered at Athena. “We'll take the company jet. I assume it's still in the same place, fueled up and ready to go?"
She nodded quickly. “Good luck, guys. You're going to need it."
They shouldered their way through the crowd toward the exit. Excited murmurs ran through the crowd as Shea was recognized and loudly identified. Even being gone for the past few years, no one had forgotten him. Rather expected, considering how he looked combined with the fact that he was known to be one of the richest men in the world.
And returning from the (presumed) dead was a bit of a feat in itself.
By the time they actually reached the exit they weren't alone. Several pale figures had joined them, most of them vampires Raven himself had created who hadn't fallen into the habits Hades had wanted them to foster.
The good vampires, in other words. “Raven,” said one, as they stepped out into the moist Autumn night, “could we do anything to help?"
He thought about it. “Not on this trip, but, if you would, I'd appreciate it if you sign up with Athena at the PAC. My new unit is going to need a lot of bodies. I have a feeling we're just starting to get hints of what it's going to be like when there are more vamps and lycanthropes in the world."
"What—join the PAC?” The vampire who'd originally spoken, a tall, round faced fellow with five-o-clock shadow darkening his cheeks, seemed taken aback at the idea.
"Sure. Why not? It's sure as hell better than creeping around in the dark, isn't it?"
"Yeah,” said another, a wisp of a girl dressed in black with all the Goth accoutrements including multiple facial piercings. “Now that someone let the vamp out of the coffin, we can stand up and be noticed."
"I wouldn't exactly be in a rush to do that,” Shea warned. “We still don't know what kind of fallout there's going to be."
"A lot of fallout if Seymour and his crazy friends have their way,” a third vampire interjected. “But we're with you, Raven."
"Good to hear. Thanks, everyone, but I really have to be going."
He threw up a transit tube and led Shea inside. They winked away, leaving Athena standing amongst the vampires. “So,” she said softly, “how many of you want to be federal agents?"
* * * *
Now the only real secret left is magic, Jaz mused, switching the HDV unit off. She looked over at Quickfingers, who was playing with a large lump of modeling clay on the nearby table. He didn't watch the news. If it wasn't a cartoon, music video, or loud, fast movie with car chases and explosions, he just wasn't all that interested.
"Maybe I should let that particular cat out of the bag. What do you think, Quickfingers?"
"Sounds like a plan to me, Boss,” he replied, bounding over to land on her lap. He grunted as rubbed against her as she scratched behind his left middle ear. “Oooh. That feels so good."
"If you start purring or wagging your leg, you're getting down,” she warned.
"Funny, Boss. So what do you say we pop over to one of the HDV stations and let ‘em see what we can do? Sound like a good time?"
"Maybe too good,” she muttered. “And Athena would stran
gle me. I'm already restricted to the Academy grounds, remember?"
"Like that's supposed to stop you,” the imp answered back. “You're the breeze. You're a mage's mage. You taught Feral Dusk how to bring her boyfriend back. You da bomb!"
"Don't say things like that,” she sighed. “It's a bit ... tacky. And, yeah, I taught her to bring him back to life ... kinda. Now we know he's not really alive anymore, don't we? He's some sort of revenant, a psychic vampire. That's all we need, a brand new kind of freak."
"You're going to be the biggest thing since spliced bread!"
"Spliced bread?"
"Yeah! You're going to be the Queen of Magic, the Lady of Blades! Evildoers will cringe when they hear your name, and piss themselves at the merest sight of you."
"Lovely image there, Quickfingers."
"I do my best,” he announced proudly. “I don't want you to be stuck here all the time. We need to be out there, righting wrongs, righting lefts, and making the criminals feel our wrath."
"Righting lefts? Don't tell me, I don't want to know."
He jumped off her lap and tugged at her pant's leg. “C'mon, Boss, let's go shake things up a bit. No reason to be sitting around here moping."
"You're a terrible influence, imp."
If anything his near perpetual grin grew wider. “Hey, that's my job!"
Epilogue
Somewhere in the North Atlantic
Some months later
The ship tossed a bit on the rough seas, but most of the twenty or so passengers standing on the deck, wrapped in internally heated thermal suits, were familiar enough with ocean travel not to be particularly disturbed even when a particular large wave washed across their feet.
A single man, as unidentifiable as the rest of those on the ship due to the swaddling that covered his from head to toe, stood in front of the crowd and yelled against the wind. “We are now several hundred feet above the entrance to the most advanced penal institution ever devised by man, guaranteed to house even the most dangerous metahuman, vampiric, or lycanthropic prisoner for as long as they are to be incarcerated.
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