by Justin Sloan
A hallway led around and to a back room, but it was empty. There was a chair, some drops of blood splattered across the floor, and a set of clothes thrown into a ball in the corner. Above the clothes was an open window, near the ceiling, just large enough that a small puma would’ve been able to escape through it.
She’d found the room he’d been taken to, but he must have managed to escape. For once, it would have been nice if he had been a little less effective.
With a sigh, she climbed up to the window and made her way out, cautious not to leave too much of her own blood behind. At least the sword wounds and holes from the shotgun had started to heal. It would take the night before she was back to normal, but the pain was already dulling.
As she slipped through the window, her sword got caught in the frame. She maneuvered it free, but then her other hand slipped loose and she fell hard, biting back a curse.
“Mistress!” Sandra said, running from down the alley towards her. She helped Valerie to stand.
“Finally, you stayed out of the fight when I told you,” Valerie said as she looked up and down the alley.
“Yes, well, sort of,” Sandra admitted, but didn’t look Valerie in her eyes.
Valerie gave her a look.
Sandra caved and explained further. “I figured that I’d look for back ways in or maybe an escape route while you were fighting, and see if I could help. So I came back here, and heard Diego’s voice cursing at someone. I got up to that window just as they were leaving, and helped him escape.”
“Sandra, dear, we’re going to have to have a talk about this,” Valerie said. “But right now I need rest, and we need to get out of here. Where is he?”
Sandra scrunched her face as if wondering how to say it, but at a nod from Valerie to hurry this up, she forged ahead. “He took off. Said he didn’t want to put us in more danger, and asked us not to follow him.”
“Put us in more…?” Valerie scoffed. “Is he kidding? We saved his ass!”
Sandra shrugged.
“Whatever,” Valerie said, her annoyance dripping from her voice as she looked up and down the alley. “Let’s get a room. I have a lot to think about.”
“Mistress?”
“Apparently, those Weres in there believe there’s a very strong vampire roaming about America somewhere,” Valerie said, starting to walk. “Second time tonight I’ve heard Bethany Anne’s name.”
“No… way,” Sandra drew the second word out.
“Huh, funny how that expression still exists,” Valerie said. “I don’t know about the Queen or the Bitch, however you want to look at her, being still alive. But they seemed certain enough that something powerful is out there, and I think it’s up to us to figure out what, or who.”
“And if it’s someone who doesn’t like outsiders?”
“Way I see it, we have a fifty-fifty chance. This vampire either kills us, or if we catch a break, just maybe they will help us stop Donovan.” As they started down the sidewalk, she said, “We need a team, and so it’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
Sandra’s eyes became as wide as the moon as Valerie explained her plan, but the girl had known the risks when she’d come out here. Hell, she’d known the risks when she rescued Valerie the first time, and every time she drank of Valerie’s blood and offered her own up to drink.
They were bonded in the old way, through life and, if it was required, in death.
Before turning a corner, Valerie was pretty sure she saw a pair of cat eyes, larger than the normal house cat, staring down at them from a building in the distance. They were gone before Sandra glanced up to see what Valerie was looking at.
If Diego really wanted to go off on his own now, who were they to stop him?
CHAPTER EIGHT
The future didn’t look the same to him after betrayal by his own kind. He’d been on his way to ask them for help, but was instead met by that… person… and her kali, and he still had the bruises to prove it. The bleeding had stopped and any breaks in the skin were healed by now, but that didn’t mean he was over it.
His breathing came out hard and his mind was racing at ways to get revenge on that horrible excuse for a Were. But nothing he could think of seemed like enough payback to be worth the effort.
The buildings here were close enough together so that he could have jumped roof to roof even if he wasn’t a puma. For now, he wanted to be away from the square and anything that even hinted of Weres.
Leaving Valerie and Sandra had been the easy part, especially since he was full of self-pity and didn’t have to look Valerie in the eye and tell them he was leaving. Sandra he could handle—she might even understand. Valerie, however, would’ve given him that look that made him feel guilty for even thinking it, and he didn’t need that right now.
With each touch of his paws on a new rooftop, his body ached and twinged, echoes of his beating with the kali sticks. A fresh bout of disorientation hit him as he started to leap over a small market. Landing off balance, he fell, tumbling down off the roof and into a stall of fresh berries.
Instantly, he transformed back to his human form, before anyone had a good look at his puma self.
Someone screamed—a young woman—and the man whose produce Diego had fallen onto was cursing him and whacking him with a stick.
“Enough, enough!” a man said, running over and pulling a cloth from under the nearby stand to wrap around him, in spite of the berry merchant’s protests.
“You know this man, Franklin?” the man with the stick asked. The young woman eyed them warily before walking off.
“Of course I don’t, but look at him! He’s obviously in need of help, not your lashings.” The man helped Diego to stand and then walk over to a nearby van.
“Get in,” he said, gesturing as he opened the rear doors.
“Thank you,” Diego said. “But I don’t need—”
The man motioned again, and then spoke softly, but with authority. “You’re trying to get yourself killed or expose the whole UnknownWorld, and I can’t allow either of those at the moment, so get in or I’ll make you get in.”
Diego stared at the man, confused. Then he realized that, in his disorientation, he hadn’t recognized the scent of a Were. He looked Franklin up and down, trying to figure out what he was dealing with here. A bear? A wolf? Something else? Maybe it was best he didn’t find out, and instead had this conversation the man seemed so eager to have.
“Okay,” he agreed, and entered the van.
The man locked the rear doors, then went to the front of the van and opened the door, sliding into the driver’s seat. He started the van and slowly pulled away.
“Where’re you taking me?” Diego asked, voice rising in concern.
“Relax,” Franklin said over his shoulder. “We’re just getting out of here in case any others saw you back there. The hunters aren’t after Weres, for now, because they know we’re better at sensing vampires than anyone else.”
“And why would they want us to sense vampires?” Diego asked.
The man glanced back at him like he was looking at an idiot who’d just called his mother ugly. “You’re not very caught up on the American UnknownWorld, are you?” At a shake of Diego’s head, the man said, “To hunt them, of course. The humans pay us, or force us, depending on the Were, to help them hunt. Not many of the humans know about the UnknownWorld, only the wealthy and politically successful. But they have enough information to value vampire blood, and know they don’t much care for us. So if we get killed along the way, or they have to kill us for not doing their bidding, no big loss. Well, as far as they’re concerned.”
Holy catnip, Diego thought—he had to figure out a way to get back to Valerie with this information, perhaps after he found out if this guy knew anything about the golden city.
Hotel that has seen many, many better days - New York City State (Upper East Coast, Old America)
There were rooms available without pay, just as the cop had said. What he hadn’t m
entioned was the number of vagabonds who had taken up residence in this... establishment. The ambience was like that of a sewer, all the way down to the smell.
Valerie sniffed herself and made a face—she shouldn’t be pointing any fingers. Especially after you add the stench of blood to the sweat of the fifteen flights of stairs they had to climb before reaching the room assigned to them by the scrawny man at the desk downstairs.
Somewhere around floor six, Sandra began getting a little grumpy. “Mistress, why didn’t we use some of the money to stay… Ugh!” She wiped something nasty off the bottom of her shoes on the edge of one of the steps. “Somewhere better?”
“Because,” Valerie answered, hopping up two steps herself to dodge another something nasty. She got Sandra’s attention and pointed down. “Watch that step.” She resumed walking up. “Simple answer? I have no idea how to convert the money I have, and until we have an income source, we need to save what we can.”
Reaching their room, Valerie used the key to unlock the door, then flicked on the light switch. Nothing happened for a couple of seconds, and then there was a brief flicker, and then another. Slowly, like a hungover person being forced out of bed, the light sputtered to life. And, also like a hungover person being forced out of bed, it looked like it had seen better times. She decided that calling the dull glow ‘light’ was being very generous on her part.
The weak light didn’t really concern Valerie in the slightest, but she could tell by the thumping of Sandra’s heart that it compounded her state of unease.
“Oh, that’s just wrong!” Valerie said, looking down at the bare, sagging bed. She flipped the mattress, then made a face at the stains on the other side.
“Would I be overstepping certain boundaries if said I told you so?” Sandra asked, meekly.
Valerie gave her a tired glance and then muttered, “Maybe we should have sold something.”
Black markets were never hard to find, but what did she have of value? Her sword, which would have to be pried from her lifeless fingers. Her clothes weren’t of much value, not enough for a quality room anyway. What was underneath definitely had value, but that was obviously not a consideration. She was a vampire princess, damnit!
And then there were the vials of vampire blood. Those had to be worth a few coins and then some, but she wasn’t willing to make that trade.
She took off the purple pirate coat, figuring she could lay it over the mattress for an added layer of protection from the grime and who-knows-what, but something felt wrong. The weight was off.
Her fingers went to the hidden pockets, and froze.
“One’s missing,” she said, her eyes searching the floor frantically.
“What?” Sandra had just gotten situated on the top of one of two bunk beds on the other side of the room, using her jacket in the same way Valerie had.
“I don’t know how, but one of the vials of,” she lowered her voice and hissed in frustration, “vampire blood is missing. Dammit!”
She punched the wall next to her, creating a small hole and triggering an angry shout from the next room to, “Keep it down over there!”
Valerie wanted to hit the wall a few more times, but decided it wasn’t worth getting additional attention at the moment.
“The fight?” Sandra asked.
Valerie considered her memories of the fight. “I can’t think of any other time. Which, of course, means that Alpha bitch has probably found it by now.”
“Ah, she was a Were.” Sandra nodded, getting it now. “I’d wondered how they were able to keep Diego captive. Figured it was that or… I guess just that.”
“Well, merde-on-a-stick.” Valerie got into bed and reclined onto her coat, staring at the ceiling.
“It might not be a big deal.” Sandra’s voice floated down from the bunk across the room.
Valerie thought about her comment, “True, maybe. But I have a feeling this blood trade isn’t exactly well-known, and if she puts it together that the vial came from me, I’m not sure how she’ll interpret that.”
“Any chance she could’ve taken it on purpose?”
Valerie sat up at this, bit her lip, and then shook her head. “Unless that bitch is in heat, there’s no way her smelling can be that good.” She looked up at Sandra. “Can it?”
This time, a small snort came from Sandra, “I’ve never been a Were, so…?”
Valerie chewed on her lip. “Right. But I doubt it. Damn.” Valerie put her face in her hands, trying to think. That wasn’t the only thing bothering her.
It was the way this cowgirl had talked about Bethany Anne, like she was some sort of goddess. A hero to the people of America, even if they didn’t know it. Hell, they didn’t even know about the UnknownWorld, let alone some all-powerful vampire that might have either been the devil incarnate according to some stories, or kind of the opposite according to others… like the cowgirl’s.
“I want to go back there and talk to her,” Valerie said.
“Now? But mistress, you need to heal.” Sandra was up, looking down at the two bandages on her wrists.
“No, no,” Valerie said. Valerie had already fed on Sandra twice, and she refused to ask that of her again that night. “After some well-earned R and R.” She looked around at their room. “Well, as much as one can get in this hellhole.”
Sandra laughed.
Valerie glanced up at her. “Oh? It’s funny now?”
“It kinda is,” she said, covering her grin. “I mean, remember the way you used to go on about the day you’d visit America and how you just knew you’d wake up and feel like your dreams were all coming true?”
“If America even existed, yeah… It seemed like such an ideal back then.” Valerie’s eyes drew together. “Did I really say that though? I mean, out loud?”
Sandra laughed again as she nodded. “I’m afraid you did, and I’m sorry to say it, but Mistress, if this is your dream coming true, you’ve got issues.”
“Hey.” Valerie frowned at that. “Are you supposed to talk to your Mistress like that?”
Sandra’s eyes went wide and her smile vanished. “I’m—I’m sorry, it’s just—”
“Ha.” Valerie winked to Sandra. “I’m only messing with you.”
She rolled out of her bed and went over to Sandra’s, where she jumped up and sat beside the woman. Her hand rested between the two, palm up, and she waited to see if Sandra would take it. When she did, Valerie put her head on Sandra’s shoulder and held the warm hand to her cheek.
“This sucks, honestly,” Valerie admitted. “Yeah, of course we’re not here to live my childhood dream… a dream from the days before I was changed.”
Sandra offered her a comforting squeeze of the hand. “Do you… remember those days, Mistress?”
Valerie leaned back looked her into the eyes, making sure the look was gentle, not intimidating. “Dear, can we stop with the Mistress stuff? That was the Duke’s system, and we’re not under him anymore, are we? No.” She used her free hand to point back and forth between the two of them. “We’re our own women now, right? So we make the rules and, as far as I’m concerned, you’re my friend. Like a sister to me.”
Sandra’s eyes glistened in the dim light. At first Valerie wondered if the woman was appalled by this suggestion. When a tear rolled down Sandra’s face and she kissed the back of Valerie’s hand, she knew Sandra felt the same way.