by Lisa Olsen
A vampire named Melanie with dark frizzy curls and bad skin caught me listening and dared to catch my eye. I waved her forward with a twitch of my finger and she eagerly joined me, sharing all the juicy details riding the gossip waves. By the time she was done, there were a half dozen others circling my table, keen to share in the conversation, but I didn’t mind. I questioned her on the victims (who I’d never heard of before) and the more I learned, the more it sounded like Carter’s M.O.
“What should we do? What if he ends up here? Should we try and catch this killer or bring it to the Order’s attention?” They all wanted to know.
I held up my hand, waiting until the uproar died down. “I’ve seen this before. It sounds like we have a hunter in our territory,” I declared, amid gasps of fear mingled with excitement. “As for what we should do – only those who are the cruelest to humans have been targeted. I can’t in good conscience step up to save those I don’t think are worth saving. Remember, there are no laws against us killing each other for personal reasons.”
“Then the hunter is working for you?” Leander asked, having sidled up to join the conversation at some point.
“I’ll just say he’s a friend and leave it at that. As long as you don’t commit any atrocities against humans, you should all be safe. But please, bring any information on any new kills to me, not the Order.”
They seemed to accept that fairly well, and I was glad to see my people didn’t have a problem with treating humans with care. Then again, maybe they were all banking on the idea that the hunter might never come that far south, it was too early to tell. The conversation quickly turned into a counseling session, and I was presented with several problems awaiting my judgment. I tried to be as fair and impartial as I could, going for sage wisdom while totally winging it. Thankfully, common sense took care of most of the issues at hand.
I was given a few petitions to take to the magistrate as well, and I promised to deliver them as soon as I could track the weasel down. It was going along swimmingly, and I found I enjoyed the distraction from my personal stuff. Maybe I’d get tired of the busywork of public office in a year or ten, but at that moment, it was just what I needed.
A nervous titter rippled through the room, and I looked up to see Mason standing near the door, waving off the coat check girl. There was another Order member by his side, easy recognizable by the dark tactical vest he wore with a gun holster strapped to his leg. I’d never met him before, and despite the commando look, he seemed pretty laid back as they were greeted by the twins. His hair was dark, and stuck up in the front in that messy, I-don’t-give-a damn-how-my-hair-looks-but-ain’t-I cool way guys wore their hair, his jaw covered in a rasp of stubble. He was shorter than Mason by a few inches (then again, who wasn’t), but solidly muscled by the look of him.
I was wondering if I should introduce myself or not when they made a beeline for my table and Mason struck up a conversation. “Hey, Anja, how’s it going?”
My peeps faded into the woodwork at their approach, wanting to be elsewhere. “I can’t complain.” I could, but he really didn’t want to hear about it. “You?” More than anything, I wanted to ask him about Hanna, but didn’t dare in present company. She hadn’t called me the other night, so I had no idea how their heart to heart had gone. For the moment I assumed they were working it out and she’d been too busy with the make up sex to give me a jingle.
“About the same,” he gave a half shrug, giving nothing away. “This is Frost, the guy I told you about.”
“Ah, so that, um… transfer is still going through then?” That had to mean he still planned on moving in with Hanna, a good sign.
“I hope so.” There was a trace of wistfulness in his expression, but I didn’t press for more.
“Well, nice to meet you, Frost. Please, join me.” I figured I might as well be polite to the guy. I had nothing against the Order individually, it was their slavish devotion to the outdated law that chapped my hide.
“Nice to finally meet you,” he said, with a genial smile. I could only guess at what he’d heard about me already, depending on who it was from.
“Have you spent much time up here in San Francisco before?”
Frost scratched the side of his jaw absently, as if he wasn’t used to needing a shave. “Yeah, I have, but it’s been years since I’ve been back. It’ll be good to get back to my old stomping grounds,” he grinned, and I decided I liked his smile. There wasn’t anything behind it.
“It’s a great place for it, we…”
Mason cut me off before I could get any deeper into the conversation. “Listen, Anja… we wanted to talk to you about your friend.”
“My friend?” I blinked. He couldn’t possibly mean Jake, could he? How could he bring him up in public?
“Yeah, Bishop sorta filled me in on your connection to the hunter problem they had in London.”
“Oh, Carter,” I eased. Why was it everyone knew about the hunter all of a sudden but it was the first I’d heard of it? Probably because I’d been so wrapped up in my own drama that I hadn’t taken the time to look around me. What else had I missed?
Mason continued, oblivious to my inner relief. “From what I understand, you got him to agree to leave town.”
“Yep, pretty much. Why?”
“We’d like you to do the same here.”
“What makes you think Carter’s over here? All I told him to do was leave England and come back to the States. It’s a big country.”
“Come off it, Anja, we know it’s him. Can you call him off or not?” Mason scowled, his shoulders hunching in irritation, making me wonder why all the interest in Carter.
“Okay, first of all, I haven’t talked to him since I left London. Second, why do you care what he’s up to? He’s not breaking any laws.”
Frost stepped up with an easygoing shrug. “It’s the principle of the thing. People get antsy when we start dropping like flies. Go figure.”
“From what I understand, it’s not like any of his targets will be missed,” I countered and Frost waved a hand back and forth.
“Were they candidates for humanitarian of the year? No. Will they be missed? Yeah, some of them have some pretty heavy clout.”
“I still don’t get the Order’s involvement,” I muttered stubbornly, my principles not wanting to rat the guy out unless I thought he was a true danger.
“Jesus, Anja, can you help us or not?” Mason demanded, hands gripping the back of the booth in exasperation.
My head cocked to one side. “Tell me again why I should help you when you didn’t help me the last time we talked about Order business.”
“You know exactly why you should help me,” he said, his eyes flashing.
“Are you threatening me?” The room had gotten considerably quieter as our voices rose.
Mason let out a long breath. “No, just reminding. There’s a difference.”
“Not enough of one to make me feel like helping you all that much,” I grumbled. They couldn’t really expect me to turn Carter over to them, not when I knew they’d have his head on a pike as soon as they got wind of his trail.
Frost leaned forward, hands laced together to form a gun with his thumbs and forefingers. “Then you won’t talk to him and ask him to move on? That’s all we’re hoping for. Not for you to betray your friend, just for him to take it to another sector, make it someone else’s problem.”
I responded to him with a civil tongue. If Mason had asked me more politely, I might not have dug in so stubbornly. “I have no idea how to get a hold of him, even if I wanted to,” I replied truthfully. “But if he contacts me, I’ll mention that you guys are on his trail. That might be enough to make him move on.”
“Thanks, I think that’s for the best, I really do.” Frost smiled as he rose to his feet and shuffled off with a half wave. “Thanks for your time. It was nice meeting you.”
“Nice to meet you too,” I acknowledged the wave with one of my own. I decided I liked the guy. He ha
d an easygoing quality to him that didn’t seem to be common to the other Order members I’d met. I turned back to find Mason staring at me. “What?”
“I’m trying to decide if I can take you at your word or if you’re holding out on us,” he replied thoughtfully, and I met his stare directly.
“I have never lied to you before.” He was one of the few who knew most of my secrets, and I started to wonder if it might prove dangerous.
“That’s not the same as coming clean.”
He had a point there. “I think we’re done with this topic,” I said loftily.
“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, hauling himself up to his feet, but I called him back.
“Hey, but… I’ll see you this weekend for dinner with Hanna though, right?” We’d made the plans before the big reveal, and I wasn’t sure if it was still on. From the irritable exchange we’d had, I wasn’t sure I wanted it to be. What happened to him owing me one? But his face softened, and he found a faint smile for me.
“Um, right, it should be.” His phone chirped, and Mason frowned over the readout, his entire stance changing. I knew what that meant. “See you later, sis, duty calls. I gotta bounce.”
That meant that more than likely, someone was about to die. Just like Scotty and Marta. Just like I would have if I hadn’t somehow convinced Bishop to let me live.
Unless I did something about it.
Chapter Fifteen
Mason collected Frost from the bar, and I slipped out after them, not really sure what I had in mind to begin with. I had no car, no bodyguards, and I didn’t have time to call anyone for a ride. I hoped they’d go somewhere on foot, but in a stroke of rotten luck they headed straight for Mason’s car.
Head swiveling around frantically, I saw my chance and I took it, hopping into the back of a black and white taxicab and shouting, “Follow that car!”
The driver seemed less than amused, and instead of giving chase, he twisted in the seat to stare back at me. “Are you for real?”
“Of course I am, now get going before they get away!” I demanded, prepared to compel him if he didn’t get his butt in gear. Luckily, he didn’t fight me any more than that, turning on the meter and making an illegal u-turn in hot pursuit.
Even as I followed them, I wasn’t sure what it was I could do if I did catch them doing something terrible. Preaching for reform was one thing, sticking my neck in the middle of Order business was quite another. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling I was needed out there somewhere, so I kept the taxi on their tail.
For all I knew, they were headed back to HQ for a company picnic, but instead, they turned south in the opposite direction. After assuring the driver that I was a) yes, very serious about following the other car, and b) did have the cash on hand to pay him, he drove like a champ, keeping up with Mason’s kamikaze lane changes.
I half expected him to pull up in front of a deserted tenement building or an abandoned warehouse. Instead, he parked in front of the Bayshore Care Center. A cancer hospice. What the heck were they doing there?
“Do you want me to stop here?” the driver asked, and I waved him on before they noticed us.
“No, circle around the block and let me out over there, thanks.” I almost considered asking him to stick around, but decided it was better to have fewer witnesses around, since I had no idea what might go down in there.
From across the street, I saw Mason and Frost approach the building, splitting up when they reached the stairs to the front. Frost jogged around towards the side entrance while Mason fooled around with the double doors until he jimmied it open. I stuck with Mason, cautiously following him into the building, which was deserted and dark, but for a tiny lounge area where the television sucked up all the attention of the night nurse.
Mason barely gave the guy a second glance, and I followed suit, trusting my light step to get me past him. He went without error to a room in the west wing, pushing the door open without knocking. A surreptitious check back into the hallway showed no signs of Frost whatsoever, so I tiptoed closer, pressing my eye to the crack of the swinging door to get a better look.
It was a typical inpatient room, clinical, but decorated with brightly colored fabrics and prints on the walls. Someone had tried to make the room cheerful for the patient’s extended stay. In addition to the long term décor, there were balloons and streamers taped to the walls and a large posterboard tacked up with the words ‘Congratulations Abel’ in rainbow colors drawn on it, with individual signatures and well-wishes below.
An attractive Hispanic man in his late twenties stood at the foot of the empty bed, an open suitcase laid out on top of it. He wore black chinos and tasseled loafers, his smooth chest visible beneath a v-necked sweater. “How did you even find out,” he was saying. “It’s been less than a day.”
“The Order keeps tabs on everyone who petitions to make a vamp,” Mason replied. “We had someone here on staff compelled to report in if there were any changes to Abel’s condition. Whether he died or suddenly got better.” He didn’t have any weapons drawn, but it didn’t sound too good for Abel to me.
“Hijo de mil cojeros…” he muttered, hands on hips. “I should have known. We put that petition in years ago, when we first found out about the cancer. You’ve been watching us the entire time?”
Mason ignored the question. “Come on, Javier, you know the drill. License and registration. Have you got ‘em or not?”
Javier took a step backwards, hands coming up. “I wanted to do things by the book, but there wasn’t time.”
“I get it, but that doesn’t change the law,” Mason sighed, drawing out the tranquilizer gun from his shoulder holster. “Where is he?”
“Mason, you know me. You know I’d never willingly break the law.” Javier took another step back, but his face was still hopeful. “We tried giving him my blood, and he went into remission for a while, but it didn’t last. He was dying, they said he might go at any time.”
“Humans do that.” Mason shrugged coldly and I couldn’t stand back any longer. I pushed into the room, right into the thick of it.
“Seriously, that’s all you have to say? What if it was Hanna in that bed? Would you let the Order kill her too?”
“Anja, you have no business being here.” Mason scowled openly, his gun never wavering. “Get out now before Frost spots you.”
Too late. Frost pushed through the swinging door, dragging along an older man by the arm. Well, older looking. Now that I was closer, I could tell everyone in the room was a vampire, so looks were relative. “Look who I found out wandering the halls. Oh, hello, what do we have here?” Frost’s brows drew together in confusion as he looked back and forth between us. Mason closed his eyes, and I could hear the blistering swear words muttered under his breath.
“I decided I should have a chat with Javier and Abel before you conduct your business with them. You don’t mind, do you?” I smiled sweetly. Frost reacted with perfect aplomb, releasing his hold on Abel, but his body did block the only exit.
“Sure, I think we can spare a few minutes.”
“Great.” There were a few seconds of confusion as they switched sides, Mason standing by Frost and Abel hurrying to Javier’s side, fear etching the worry lines on his face that much deeper. They made an odd pair, Javier young and bursting with vigor and Abel, thin and drawn from the wasting disease. Visually, Abel’s body was at least thirty years older than his Sire. But there was a deep connection between them, that much was plain to see from the way Javier drew him into the shelter of his arms with murmured endearments in Spanish.
“Hey guys,” I smiled at them, pitching my voice low for their ears only. “Sit tight, I’ll see what I can do to help you both.”
“Thank the Lord you came, I thought we were the goners,” Javier gushed, picking up my hand and kissing Jakob’s ring fervently.
“You know who I am?” I asked, with some surprise.
“Of course. All know the angel de la calle.”
; “I don’t know about that, but I’ll do my best.” I only hoped their faith in me wasn’t misplaced. I turned to face the Order, putting myself between them and the vamps behind me. “Now then, I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding here. These are not the vamps you’re looking for.” I wasn’t sure if I could compel them both at once, so I focused on Frost, the unknown in the equation.
“They’re not?”
“Nope, their papers are completely in order, you saw them yourself. All you have to do is report that in and go about your business. Understand?”
“I understand,” Frost replied equably, even as Mason grew visibly distraught.
“Ah, I hate to break the Jedi mind shit you have going on here, but we haven’t seen any papers, let alone vetted them.”
“Hold on a sec,” I scowled at Mason, afraid if I let go of Frost too soon it wouldn’t take. “Frost, why don’t you go wait in the car while Mason finishes up the paperwork here? There’s nothing to worry about though, everything’s in order.”
“Nothing to worry about,” Frost smiled sunnily, giving that same half wave before he disappeared out the door.
“What the fuck?” Mason demanded before the door had even swished shut.
“Mason…” I began, taking a step closer to him. I could tell the pair behind me were stunned into silence over the display of power, but I could only deal with one thing at a time.
“What the fuck?” he repeated, backing away from me. “How the hell did you do that?”
“It’s okay, Mason, relax.” I didn’t use my compulsion on him yet because I wanted to see if I could talk him down first. “I compelled him to see things my way, that’s all.”
“That’s all?” His eyes bugged out. “How long have you been able to do that?”