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Tall, Dark & Dead

Page 24

by Tate Hallaway


  “We have lots of grimoires,” I heard William protest. “You want a book of shadows? We have a million blank ones. Or I could order you the book by Curott by that name.”

  “Don’t play stupid with us, Warlock.”

  Mother of All, they thought William was a player. Which, as funny as that might strike me on one level, meant he was in real trouble. I had to help him, but how?

  I thought about the display of wands at the front of the store. There was a silver-plated one with a big honking amethyst crystal at the top that could probably do some serious damage if I swung it hard enough. Problem? I’d only get one shot. These guys had guns.

  I always had Lilith, but I’d never asked Her to distinguish between friend and foe before. Somehow I imagined She’d just as likely slaughter William as save him, especially if he bolted, which any sane person would. No, Lilith was a last resort only.

  Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and felt for the part of me I usually kept under lock and key. Purple light streamed out, filling me, surrounding me. I visualized myself surrounded by a bubble of luminescent purple mist.

  “What I need,” I told the universe, “is a distraction. Something big enough that all the agents will go and leave William unharmed.”

  I held my hands out—my right hand, palm up; my left, palm down—and began to spin in a clockwise direction. Golden light swirled in a spiral from my fingertips, creating a kind of magical tornado. I could feel the power building. When it reached its peak, I released it through the top of the bubble and sent it in the direction of the storeroom.

  A cell phone trilled.

  I could hear a brisk exchange, then: “We have to move out. Now. The source has been attacked. We’ll deal with you later.”

  With a thanks to the universe, I rested my palms on the floor and grounded any excess energy charge I might be holding. While I crouched behind the shelves, the agents hurried past me. I felt rather than saw Sensitive pause, but he followed his compatriots out the door without a word. Once the door closed, I stood up and drew the purple mist back into myself.

  When I opened my eyes, William was standing in the doorway of the storeroom gripping a crowbar in his hands as though it were a baseball bat. “Garnet? Is that you?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

  William lowered the crowbar with a relieved sigh. “Those guys. They were looking for you.”

  “I know.”

  “Are they the ones who broke in this morning?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Are you sure? Because they have guns.” He stopped his litany long enough to take a breath. Then he added, “They thought I was a Warlock.”

  I couldn’t help but crack a thin smile. “Pretty cool, huh? I guess the new haircut is working for you.”

  “Yeah,” he said, returning the smile with a bubble of hysterical laughter. He shook his head. “Man, I tell you, when outer planets go retrograde, the world gets really fucked up.”

  “I blame Lilith, myself,” I said.

  “That’s one seriously badass asteroid, then.”

  I nodded, though I wasn’t sure he could see me in the darkness of the store. “Yeah. It is.”

  “I should probably put the money in the safe,” William said. “They didn’t take it. I offered, but they didn’t go for it. Sorry about that. I mean, the money. I just wanted them to go away. I fucking hate guns. Can I offer a suggestion? The police. I could call the police. I’ve got a pretty good description: guys carrying guns.”

  “First things first. Why don’t you go over to Holy Grounds? I can take care of things here.”

  William seemed deeply relieved. “Cool.” Then, he said, “Oh, and that special delivery you ordered finally came. I left it by the register.”

  * * * *

  When I made it to the coffee shop, I discovered Sebastian and William sitting together on the couches in the back. They looked chummy. I was surprised, considering the last time William saw Sebastian he was tearing his girlfriend’s throat out. William had probably gone into full denial mode.

  Sebastian had found a red silk shirt, which in combination with the black trench coat and jeans made a striking ensemble. He’d also taken the time to comb his hair and tie it back with a black ribbon.

  William, meanwhile, looked frazzled. The dye job, which in the daytime had made his hair appear all shiny and new, now looked monotone, like a bad wig, in the artificial light. Sitting next to Sebastian, William seemed skinny and frail. Breakable. I worried that he wouldn’t be up for our Parrish-hunting adventure, but all he had to do was point us in the right direction.

  “I understand they’re quite cold,” Sebastian was saying as I approached.

  “Yeah, but worth it,” William replied. “All the time you were there you never even got your feet wet?”

  I plopped myself into a nearby ratty, floral-print, overstuffed chair. Even though one of the springs was missing, it felt good to take a load off and sink into the upholstery. I was planning on telling Sebastian that the special delivery had turned out to be his mandrake and that I had it with me in the pocket of my jeans, but their conversation distracted me. “What are you guys talking about?”

  “Mountain climbing,” William said. “Well, specifically, mountain lakes.”

  I nodded. Business at the Holy Grounds was winding down. Besides William, Sebastian, and me, only a few other customers remained. A barista I didn’t know busily wiped down tables and prepared the place for close. I wondered where Izzy was. Had she taken a day off after all the excitement last night? I hoped she was okay. At least the new barista didn’t seem bothered by us stragglers.

  “You mountain climb?” I asked William. It was uncharitable, but I couldn’t quite picture William rappelling down the side of a mountain. I guess I always imagined that sort of thing took more muscles than William seemed to have.

  “My dad was into it,” William said with a shrug. “He’s originally from Washington State. When we went back to visit grandma, we’d hit the mountains for a few days.”

  “Huh,” I said. The boys compared notes about the best trails and equipment and stuff I couldn’t begin to understand. But we had more important things to consider. “Did your Goth friend say where he found the vampire hustler?” I asked William.

  “That’s kind of a major change of subject,” William noted. He adjusted his glasses with his finger.

  Sebastian had been taking a sip of coffee, and he nearly choked. “Vampire hustler? You’re not talking about your ex-boyfriend vampire, I hope. The one who has my grimoire?”

  “Yeah,” I said, chewing on my fingernail in anticipation of Sebastian going ballistic again. Instead, he seemed to be concentrating on taking slow, even breaths. I thought I heard him counting to ten.

  “The skanky vamp biting for bucks on the dark end of State Street is your ex-boyfriend?” William asked. The look on William’s face implied he hoped I washed after interacting with Parrish.

  “Parrish isn’t skanky. It must be someone else,” I said. Here was something I hadn’t counted on. What if there were two vampire hustlers in Madison?

  Sebastian shook his head. “Unfinished business,” he muttered.

  William glanced back and forth between Sebastian and me. “You guys aren’t thinking about having some kind of three-way, are you?”

  “Eek!” I said, just as Sebastian said, “Good God, no.”

  “Oh, well, it’s just I heard that there’s another vamp who’d be up for something like that if the price was right.”

  My expression must have given away the fact that I suspected that vampire was Parrish because Sebastian said, “Nice. So the kinky one has my grimoire? Things just get better and better, don’t they?”

  “He told me he didn’t do that, just bite,” I said, and instantly regretted it.

  Both of the boys gave me the and-you-believed-that? look.

  I frowned. I didn’t like hearing Sebastian besmirch Paris
h’s character, especially since I knew how embarrassed Parrish was by the whole affair. I desperately wanted to defend Parrish’s honor, but every excuse I thought up sounded lame. Anyway, Sebastian would just give me grief about still being hung up on Parrish. Instead, I said, “Look, Parrish will give the book back if I ask him. I’m sure of it.”

  “Are you guys talking about the grimoire that the Vatican wanted?” William asked.

  “What do you know about the Order?” Sebastian demanded of William.

  “Our Roman friends just paid a visit to the store,” I explained. “Apparently, they thought I might have hidden it there.”

  “Instead you gave it to your ex-lover, who is apparently selling his bite on the street,” Sebastian muttered into his coffee. “Where it’s much safer.”

  “Actually, it is,” I pointed out. “Anyway, I thought you told the truth about the copy in your safe-deposit box. They should be off the scent.”

  “I imagine the Order is merely being thorough. They’ve got the microfilm, now they want the original. Besides, as I said, my most recent notes are on the paper version.”

  “You made backups?” William asked, then with a sage nod, added, “Sweet.”

  Sebastian smiled at William. “Yes, a number of them. The original is in a rare book collection in Budapest.”

  “Smart.” William nodded.

  “Not necessarily,” I pointed out a bit cruelly, but I was still feeling the sting from Sebastian’s constant dissing of Parrish. “After all, something must have put the Vatican on to you in the first place.”

  “You mean other than my son?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “As neat and tidy as it would be to blame all of this on Mátyás, I doubt the Vatican would invest this kind of manpower to hunt you down simply on the word of a dhampyr.”

  “Why not?” Sebastian asked.

  “What’s a dhampyr?” William added.

  “Because,” I said, hoping to answer both questions at once, “Mátyás is a magical. He’s got vampire blood running in his veins. The Order might be operating in conjunction with him, but they’re totally playing him, Sebastian. Once they get what they want, he’s dead.”

  “The Vatican wouldn’t waste a perfectly capable vampire hunter,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “Especially considering he’s the only one of his kind.”

  “Why would they want a vampire hunter, Sebastian? They hunt Witches. And now they’re going to use your formula to make an army of holy vampires. I’d think the last thing they want in their employ is someone capable of destroying them. Mátyás is screwed.”

  Sebastian took a sip of his drink and then made a face. I wasn’t sure if his disgusted expression reflected his feelings toward the beverage or my comment. “Shit.”

  “Yeah,” I agreed.

  We were all silent for a moment, lost in our respective thoughts. I looked longingly at the coffee bar, wishing that the barista hadn’t already closed for the night. I’d kill for a strong cup of coffee. I had a feeling tonight was going to be a long one.

  “Are you… you seem like you might be very old,” William said. Though it was phrased like an insult, William made it sound like a huge compliment.

  “Very, very old,” Sebastian said with a nod, looking deeply into William’s eyes. He’d thrown an arm over the back of the couch at some point, and his fingertips brushed the fabric of William’s shirt. For his part, William seemed to lean into Sebastian’s touch, like a lover.

  “So, is it true what they say? The older the vampire, the stronger the kiss?”

  “Oh, yes, definitely,” Sebastian said with a smile. And suddenly, when their eyes met, there was that intimacy again. Sebastian’s hand now rested quite obviously on William’s shoulder. His fingers splayed so one of them could stroke the line of William’s neck.

  “Wow,” William breathed.

  “Yes.” Like a cat, Sebastian had crept closer to William, even though I swore I’d never taken my eyes off them. Their knees touched. He was totally coming on to my friend. Right in front of me. I knew Sebastian was hungry, but couldn’t he wait until they were alone to try to score one on my buddy?

  “Hello? Break it up, boys,” I said. “We still need to get Sebastian’s grimoire.”

  William blinked as if shaking off a spell. “Oh, right. Uh, follow me. I know the bar the Goth guy was talking about. It’s not far at all.”

  * * * *

  Since State Street is a pedestrian mall and only buses are allowed to drive it, we decided to walk. People—tourists and students mostly, by the look of them—crowded the sidewalk. We actually had to shoulder our way through bodies clustered near entrances to various establishments.

  Strangely, a glance one block in either direction showed only empty sidewalks. Apparently people came to Madison to see State Street and nothing else.

  I scanned the passing faces for Parrish. I’d given the boys a verbal description of Parrish’s vitals, but they both looked baffled at the concept of a Leo’s mane, so I didn’t have much hope that they’d be able to identify him.

  When I had a chance, I grabbed Sebastian’s elbow to pull him close. “Back in the coffee shop, what were you playing at?”

  Sebastian’s pupils had expanded in the darkness. Only a sliver of brown remained. He looked high. “What do you mean?”

  I jerked my chin in the direction of William, whose shock of black hair dodged around a gaggle of UW jocks and through a pride of bar floozies. He was only a pace or so in front of us. I kept my voice low as I said, “With William. All the touching.” Sebastian gave me a blank look, so I added, “All the lingering gazes. I thought I was going to have to throw cold water on both of you.”

  “Jealous?”

  “As a matter of fact, yeah.”

  “Don’t be,” he said. “I’m so hungry anything looks good.”

  That was kind of a dis of William, so I gave Sebastian a disapproving frown. “You had Mátyás less than an hour ago.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t take nearly as much as I wanted, and most of that went toward healing the sun damage from this morning.” His gaze followed the floozies as they passed, lingering on exposed and ample assets. “That wasn’t nearly enough.”

  Now he not only looked like a junkie, he talked like one, too. Just in the past couple of hours, Sebastian had started to look gaunt, a little too skinny to be sexy, particularly around his cheeks, like his skin was stretched tight over bone. In fact, the word cadaverous sprang to mind. I wondered how long it would be before his thirst became unquenchable and he died.

  We came abreast of William when we gathered at a corner, waiting for the traffic light to change. A silver Ford Taurus came within a foot of us, and I recognized the driver at the same instant she recognized me. It was Rosa.

  Brake lights flashed. I grabbed Sebastian’s hand, and then nearly dropped it. His skin had already become icy cold.

  “Run,” I shouted to William, who still stood on the corner, while trying to drag an uncooperative vampire into oncoming traffic. “Vatican.”

  A couple of stoner college types we’d been standing next to gave me a wide-eyed stare at the last part of my warning, but everyone started screaming when Rosa stepped out of her vehicle and aimed a .45 in our general direction.

  And William coldcocked her.

  There was a crunch of bone, which could have been his knuckles, but the effect was the same: Rosa went from shocked to unconscious. William looked at his fist like he’d never seen it before.

  Sebastian and I ran back over and pushed our way through the growing crowd of curious onlookers. Rosa’s nose had caved in. Blood covered her face and a large portion of her power suit.

  “I think I broke my knuckles,” William said quietly, as if to himself.

  Sebastian reached down to relieve Rosa of her gun. I noticed him pause at the sight of all that fresh blood. His hand hovered over her wet cheek, and I thought for a moment he might dip his finger for a taste. He stopped himself and pocketed the gun in
stead. Rosa moaned.

  I looked through the crowd for someone with a cell phone. I spotted a geek boy with a utility belt containing both a cell and a BlackBerry and Goddess knew what all else. “You,” I said, “Call 911.”

  Then I clasped hands with William and Sebastian and dragged them away from Rosa’s body.

  * * * *

  We ducked into the first bar that we came to. I ensconced the boys at a dark corner table and flagged down a harried-looking waiter. The waiter gave us a long, disapproving look. I could only imagine what he thought of us: two Goths and a pale guy. We must have seemed like a matching set, all in black. “I’m starving,” Sebastian muttered.

  “Honey, I doubt we have what you’re looking for,” the waiter said.

  “Oh?” I asked, after exchanging glances with William. “What do you think we’re looking for?”

  “Two doors down,” he said, with a sardonically arched eyebrow. When we didn’t get whatever hint he tossed us, he put a fist on his narrow hip. “Look around, darlings, this is a sports bar. You’ll like the atmosphere at the Cavern much better.”

  The Cavern? That sounded cheesy. Sadly, I could totally see Parrish hanging out at a place like that.

  Sebastian, however, looked like he was ready to pick a fight with our judgmental waiter.

  “Thanks for the tip,” I said.

  * * * *

  “Rude little prick,” Sebastian was muttering, as we pushed ourselves back out into the ebb and flow of State Street. “I should have eaten him.”

  “I think I broke my knuckles,” William said.

  I was a little disappointed to be on the move again, since I was worried that William had slipped into some kind of post-violence shock.

  “It’ll be okay,” I said to both of them. My own bruised hands ached in sympathy for William. To Sebastian I said, “Can you give William one of your cards? It’s been such a crazy night, I’m worried we’re going to get separated.”

 

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