Blood From a Silver Cross 4

by E. S. Moore

  “We’ll see.” I forced a smile. I really didn’t want Mikael to know that the only way I was able to keep Baset from hunting me down and killing me was to become her assassin. “What can you tell me about him?”

  Mikael rubbed at his chin and squinted at the dim lights above our heads. I couldn’t tell if it was for show or if he was actually thinking. I had no idea how he managed to store so much information on so many people in his head. Circumstances were changing constantly, yet Mikael always seemed on top of them.

  I was beginning to suspect he was more than he appeared. In fact, I was almost positive there was something supernatural about him, though I didn’t have an inkling as to what he might be.

  “Boris Stevenson is a vampire,” Mikael said at last. “But you already knew that, yes?”

  I didn’t respond in any way. I knew absolutely nothing about my target, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. That would be giving too much away. Mikael was fishing to see how much I really knew.

  He chuckled before going on. “He hasn’t done anything especially horrible in the grand scheme of things. He hasn’t tried to take down any Major Houses or bothered any of the counts or countesses. In fact, if it wasn’t for his . . . unfortunate thirst, he would be of no consequence.”

  “What unfortunate thirst might that be?”

  Mikael shrugged. “A little of this, a little of that. He is a rogue, but something of a famous one in the right circles.”

  “Famous?” That surprised me. Until I read his name on the page Henri gave me, I’d never heard of him before. “What for?”

  “He makes movies.”

  I gave him a skeptical look. “He’s a movie star?”

  Mikael leaned forward, still smiling, though something came into his eyes, something that told me he wouldn’t mind if Boris Stevenson came up missing. Permanently.

  “These are the homemade sort of movies that you have to search really hard for. Not all of the actors and actresses are strictly legal. Not all of them come out of it alive.”

  “I see.”

  “He has a thing for young girls especially, the younger the better. He’ll take a young-looking girl in her twenties, sure, but if he can get to them before they are of age, he likes that more.”

  My teeth started to grind together so I took a long pull from my beer to make them stop.

  “He keeps a very low profile,” Mikael said. “His fame is spread amongst the sick and the perverted. His identity is kept secret by even the most vicious of vampire counts. He keeps them entertained with his blood porn.”

  I cringed at the term, but a sense of satisfaction and relief swept over me.

  This guy deserved to die. Baset had always sent me after someone I would have gone after on my own if I’d known about them, so it wasn’t a surprise that Boris fit the mold. I did wonder how he’d drawn her attention, however. Had he killed someone important to her? Had she tried to bring him into her House, only to be rejected? I knew for a fact that Baset didn’t take rejection well.

  “The movies are not something anyone should see,” Mikael said.

  “I’ll take your word for it.”

  “But . . .” He raised a finger. “You might wish to see them. Boris is not a man easily spotted. He spends more time amongst others than he does alone. If you wish to, shall we say, make his acquaintance, you will want to know what he looks like.”

  I didn’t like where this was going. “If I know where he lives, I can take care of anyone and everyone there.”

  “And if you miss him? He will continue making these movies and you will not know it. He doesn’t often stick to one place.”

  I heaved a sigh. He was right, damn it. It would be far easier if I knew what he looked like.

  “Fine,” I said, a little too harshly. “What do I need to do?”

  “Do you have a computer?”

  I shook my head.

  “I figured as much.” Mikael reached down next to him. I couldn’t see anything from my side of the booth. In fact, I couldn’t hear anything either. He simply reached down and then brought his hand back up with a slip of paper. I wasn’t so sure he hadn’t conjured it out of nowhere.

  He held the page out to me. “There are two addresses here. Go to the first. I will send word you are coming. Anton will be able to help you.”

  “And the second?”

  “It is where Boris Stevenson calls home on the rare occasions he decides to stay there.” He smiled.

  I took the page, glanced at the address, and then shoved it into my pocket. I sat back and then began to thoughtfully sip my beer.

  I could handle a rogue vampire. Rogues had once been my specialty, but I hated how I was going to have to see some of this guy’s atrocities before I could take care of him. I’d prefer to simply waltz in, take the vamp down, and then get out of there before things got too bloody. I was getting tired of all the blood.

  “Is there something amiss, my sweet?” Mikael asked, breaking into my thoughts. There was concern in his eyes.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, setting down my half-empty bottle.

  “You seem . . . distracted.”

  “It’s been a busy year.”

  Mikael gave me a weak smile. “But there is more to it than that. Something has happened and it has happened recently, yes? It has gotten into your head and snaked its way into your mind. I can tell.”

  I scratched the back of my head and looked away. “I’m fine,” I said. “There’s just a lot going on right now and I’m having a hard time keeping everything separate.”

  “Ah,” he said, sitting back and crossing his arms.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I flashed back to how Ethan had had the same smug look on his face when I’d told him about Keira.

  “What should it mean?” Mikael asked with a grin.

  “This isn’t a psych evaluation, you know.”

  He started to laugh, but was cut off by a scream that came from outside.

  The entire bar fell abruptly silent. Bart’s shotgun appeared in his hand as if by magic. He was still behind the bar, watching the door.

  He wasn’t the only one. Every eye was focused on the doorway. There were a few tense seconds when not even a whisper could be heard. Then the door burst open and the young girl I’d noticed at the bar earlier burst inside, eyes wide and frantic.

  “It’s out there.” She collapsed to her knees and broke into sobs.

  I was up and out of the booth before anyone else could move. Bart came around the bar to join me, danger in his eyes. He didn’t like violence on his property and it was pretty clear something violent had just happened.

  “Everyone stay inside,” he growled. “Everyone but you.” He nodded to me and we headed for the door together.

  Bart was the first into the lot. The lights from inside were so dim, it barely illuminated the pavement. The main source of light came from the neon sign above the bar of the woman staking the vampire. It gave everything a slightly red sheen.

  As soon as we were in the parking lot, the young man stood. He was standing near my motorcycle, of all places. His eyes widened when he saw Bart’s gun was aimed at him.

  “He’s over here,” he said, raising his hands and taking a step back. “We found him. We didn’t kill him. I swear.”

  I followed Bart across the lot. I glanced toward the trash bin where I’d seen the trio of men, but they were gone.

  “Fucking shit,” Bart said, lowering his shotgun.

  My heart just about stopped.

  Lying on the ground, right beside my motorcycle, was a body. Blood pooled around him and beneath my tires. Blank eyes stared at the sky above our heads. His throat had been opened from ear to ear and a silver cross lay smoldering in his forehead. He was quite clearly dead.

  I didn’t have time to see much else. A growl came from behind me and I spun to find half the bar’s patrons had spilled out onto the lot. Feral yellow eyes were looking past me to the body on the ground, at the blood
that had ceased pumping. The lead wolf ’s nostrils flared, as he took in the scent.

  It pushed him over the edge.

  He started to shift.

  15

  It was like dominoes. The first wolf began his shift and the ones behind him did the same. The combination of fear and the smell of blood had set them off, which was bad news for anyone who wasn’t a supe. One man who’d come out with the rest, slipped back inside, his face pale and bloodless.

  “Goddamn it,” Bart muttered as he raised his shotgun. I placed a hand on his arm before he could fire. If he killed one of the wolves, the rest would attack. He might have dealt with fights on his property before, but I had a feeling he’d never dealt with this many at once.

  He glanced at me and then lowered the barrel so it wasn’t pointed at anyone, though he still held it in a way that would allow him to fire off a quick shot if needed. There was no way he was going to remove his finger from the trigger. I just hoped it didn’t go off accidentally.

  “Get back!” I shouted, hand moving to my own gun. I wouldn’t draw unless I had no choice. I think Bart would forgive me this time if I were to shoot someone, but I didn’t want to risk it if I didn’t have to.

  A half-dozen shifted werewolves prowled in front of us. Closer to the building, a pair of vampires with blood dripping from their ravaged gums stood, watching. The only Pureblood left outside—if you didn’t count Bart—was the young man standing behind us. He looked terrified, and rightfully so. If the weres attacked, he’d probably be the first to die.

  Eyes peered out from the windows of the Bloody Stake. It seemed everyone had risen to see what was happening—everyone but Mikael. I didn’t see his face in the crowd.

  A werewolf snarled and Bart swung his gun around to him without actually raising it. The wolf bared his fangs but didn’t charge.

  “Blood has been spilled,” one of the vampires said. He looked eager for a fight, but was standing well back of the wolves. He wasn’t dumb enough to get too close.

  “It’s none of your concern,” I said. “Go back inside.”

  “Who are you to tell us what to do?” the other vampire said, grinning. His nostrils flared as he drew in the scent of death.

  The first vampire braved a step forward. “This place belongs to us,” he said. “It’s time we took it back for good.”

  I winced, knowing what was coming next.

  There was a loud boom, and the vampire’s head splattered against the wall behind him. His body dropped limply to the ground. His buddy flinched and with an oddly chipper smile, vanished back into the bar where he wouldn’t be a target.

  “Anybody else?” Bart shouted, gun trailing from left to right without actually aiming at anyone.

  Two of the wolves at the back spun and loped off, leaving their tattered clothes behind. I noticed a few of the faces at the window had vanished, though I didn’t think the vampire was causing problems inside.

  That left four wolves facing us. The vampire’s blood had started to push a couple of them into a near blood frenzy. They snarled and slavered as they paced. Their muscles were tense, seconds from springing.

  I drew my gun. Bart and I could handle four.

  One of the wolves stepped forward and I aimed at him. “I wouldn’t do that,” I said. His eyes were wild, crazed with both fear and hunger. If he so much as twitched in my direction again, I was going to have to put him down.

  Another of the wolves slunk off, presumably to find an easier target. While they didn’t know I had silver bullets in my gun, they knew a shot to the head could be deadly, even to a werewolf.

  “If you ever want to come back here,” Bart said, face red with anger, “you better go now. I won’t hold this against you.”

  Another wolf turned and loped off, leaving two.

  “I’d do as he says,” I said. “He’s a pretty damn good shot.”

  My hand was steady as I drew a bead on what I took to be the leader. In times past, I would have killed him already. This wolf was the first to shift, which set off the rest. My old self viewed that as a killable offense.

  But I was trying to be a better person. I’ve spent time with weres who weren’t bad people. I knew now that some could be saved, even this guy. Maybe he hadn’t fed for a while and the blood had triggered the monster inside him faster than he could control. It wasn’t his fault he was what he was.

  The lead wolf snarled, but slowly backed away. I was worried he was heading for the bar where all the Purebloods were hiding, but instead, he turned and ran off, crossing the road without stopping for the light traffic. The last wolf took off after him, either giving chase for a fight or because they were friends. I didn’t care. I was just happy they were gone.

  Even after they’d vanished, Bart and I stayed vigilant. Just because they appeared to have left, didn’t mean they were actually gone for good. I wouldn’t put it past an angry were to loop around and try to come at us from another angle.

  “Go on,” Bart said, startling me. I glanced over to see him talking to the Pureblood guy. “Take your girl and go before they come back.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. The kid ran for the bar. He barely slowed to rip open the door and stumble inside. A moment later he returned with the pale young girl on his arm. They got into a car and tore out of the lot.

  “Know him?” Bart asked, turning toward the body. He’d lowered his gun and took his finger off the trigger, so I put mine away. I kept my hand close to my knives just in case. I wasn’t about to believe all of the wolves were gone. I had a feeling we were being watched.

  I knelt by the body and studied the face. I almost expected it to be one of the three men I’d seen by the trash bin, but that wasn’t the case.

  But he was familiar. It took me a moment to figure out where I’d seen him.

  “He’s a werewolf,” I said, swallowing hard.

  The guy wasn’t shifted and was fully dressed, telling me he hadn’t seen his attacker coming. One of his knuckles was scraped where he’d either fallen or tried to strike out at his assailant. The only other wound I could see was the slashed throat and burn from the silver cross on his forehead.

  “I don’t think I’ve seen him here before,” Bart said.

  I hadn’t either. In fact, I’d only ever seen him once.

  The dead wolf lying in the parking lot was the one who’d helped me when the female wolf I thought to be Keira had attacked me. I didn’t know his allegiances, but now I knew he hadn’t been following Nathan.

  He’d been following me.

  “I’m going to go in and close up the bar,” Bart said. “I have clean-up to do and can’t run the place while I do it.” He started to walk away, but hesitated. “Don’t leave until I’ve had a chance to talk to you.”

  He limped away.

  Great. I hoped Bart wouldn’t hold this against me. The body had been found next to my Honda, and while he didn’t know how I knew the guy, I was pretty sure he’d figured out I was a part of this somehow.

  The wolf was actually dressed nicely, as if he’d been planning on heading to an expensive restaurant after following me around a bit. He was wearing a black suit and tie with a white dress shirt underneath. His shoes were scuffed, but I had a feeling if I were to find his vehicle, I’d find a pair of polished dress shoes there.

  These weren’t the sort of clothes you shifted in.

  “Why were you following me?” I muttered as I scanned the area.

  I couldn’t figure out why he would be after me. He sure as hell didn’t look like one of Baset’s men and there was something about him that told me he didn’t follow Adrian.

  So who sent him?

  A feeling of dread crept into my gut. If it wasn’t Adrian and it wasn’t Baset, then I could think of only one other person who’d have someone following me.

  Mephisto.

  I’d only seen the vampire count once as I’d sped away from his territory, but that one look told me all I needed to know about him. He was p
owerful—something I’d already known—but he was also interested in me. He’d stopped his men from coming after me when they had me all but trapped.

  “Son of a bitch.” If Mephisto had someone following me, I was in more trouble than I’d thought. I knew I’d drawn his interest, but hadn’t been sure he’d stuck a tail on me.

  And if the wolf had followed me here . . .

  I immediately thought of Ethan. Did Mephisto know where I lived? Why didn’t I just invite all of the werewolves and vampires who knew where I lived over for a party? Maybe we could hash out our differences with a big old orgy of blood and death. Last one standing inherits the city or some shit like that.

  I plucked the cross off the dead wolf’s forehead. Blood was splattered across it from where it had sprayed from his throat. It was uncomfortable in my hand, as if my body knew the silver should have affected me, but it didn’t burn. I turned it over a few times, wondering how many more people would have to die like this before I managed to stop them.

  The bar doors opened and Purebloods started filtering out. I dropped the cross next to the body before rising. I put myself over the body just so no one would get too close. There were quite a few rubberneckers who just about plowed into one another as they drove off the lot, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the body. Bart urged them along, gun still in his hand.

  As soon as they were gone, I glanced around, searching for a watcher. I felt like I had a bull’s-eye painted on my chest. Anyone could be out there now, watching me. Did Baset have someone following me as well? Did Adrian? Had their men watched the Left Hand kill Mephisto’s wolf?

  I could feel panic setting in. I mean, Christ, I knew I was in a shitload of trouble, but this was starting to get ridiculous. I very nearly expected to turn around and see the road to Delai appear and Levi come waltzing out to crush me into dust.

  “You know the guy?” Bart said as the last of the bar’s patrons left.

  I nodded. “I’ve seen him before, but don’t know his name or anything.”

  Bart scowled at the body. “This might hurt business a bit.”