Fire in Her Blood

by Rachel Graves

  “There’s something…” I hesitated. “I don’t know what it is, but the vampires inside, they’re there, like looking at a picture, this other thing, it looks back.”

  “Like it wants you?”

  “Like it’s pissed off I don’t know its name.” I tried to think of a good analogy but couldn’t come up with one. “Whatever it is, it’s not a vampire. Vianne is up, four others besides her, I can’t tell them apart because they’re all equally weak. There’s a fifth one though, he’s barely there. I’m betting that’s Chris.”

  “Equally weak? But they’re still vampires, right? Pick up a car with one hand, snap your bones like twigs…”

  “Yeah, yeah, vampires but young ones, baby vampires.” It was the nicest thing I could say out loud because inside my head I was comparing them to Jakob. The way he’d called them less than food made a lot of sense.

  “You’ll forgive me if they still make me nervous.”

  “You’re forgiven. They don’t make me nervous at all. I can’t seem to breathe around a werewolf, but the vampires don’t bother me. I’d say we’re even.”

  It was late enough in the afternoon that Vianne couldn’t affect a languor or tell us we were interrupting her sleep. Still, she was lounging in a black silk negligee and matching robe when the maid showed us in.

  “Are you back again, Detective? I mean detectives, of course, I wouldn’t want to forget you…” She gave me a pointed look that said how not worth remembering I was.

  “I’m afraid there’s been another attack in the area,” Danny said, taking a chair next to her lounge.

  “Oh how entirely dreadful. Douglas?” Douglas was on cigarette duty. He immediately lit one and took the first drag. The fire danced around his face, higher than it should have been, reminding me of E and the candles at dinner last week. I wondered if Douglas had been a fire witch once. He gave the cigarette to her, and she exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift from her mouth.

  “Those’ll kill you, you know,” Danny joked.

  “Too late,” she whispered. Douglas had nipped away for an ash tray, but now he was back holding it under her hand.

  “Where’s Michael?” Danny asked. Douglas looked scared, but Vianne laughed.

  “Upstairs moping. He got himself hurt, and now he can’t play. You’d think I’d taken away his world.”

  “How’d he hurt himself?” Danny asked. Her look shot daggers at him so he added, “I thought vampires were pretty tough.”

  “Well, some of us are, others go running for protection when they shouldn’t.” Her voice had a hard edge to it we hadn’t heard before. I guessed Michael’s visit to Jakob had been found out. The next time she spoke her voice was back to seduction. “I promise I’m strong enough to serve.”

  “I’m sure you are. What can you tell me about the attack?”

  “Not much I’m afraid, with the company he keeps it has to be expected.” She shrugged and took another long drag on the cigarette.

  “What kind of company would that be?”

  “He’s a whore, what kind do you think?” Her voice was mean again. I doubted she realized we hadn’t told her who was attacked or where. She was proving she knew more about it with every word. I expected Danny to follow up on it, but instead he ignored it.

  “Have you seen Chris by the way?” Jumping in earned me a second look that said I shouldn’t be speaking.

  “Not since last night, he’s still asleep.”

  “You turned him?” I asked.

  “I shared my gift with him, yes.”

  “Can we talk to him?”

  “He’s awfully young, Detective. That means he’s hard to wake up. You’ll have to come back after sunset.” It was bullshit, and we both knew it, but there was no way for me to call her on it without admitting to my own indiscretions.

  “If he’s that young, I’m sure you don’t let him hunt alone,” I said, opening the trap.

  “Of course not! I adore the boy. I’d hate for anything to happen to him.” She smiled over at the young man standing next to her, holding the ashtray. Her hand began to caress his thigh gently. “I take good care of my boys.”

  The man next to her could have passed for sixteen, and she looked at least forty. I had to swallow hard.

  “Of course, you do,” I said sweetly. “So where was Chris last night?”

  She stopped, caught. “Why, he was here, of course.”

  “We have witnesses that put him close to the attack.” Danny finally found his tongue.

  For a second she was perfectly still, then she jerked in rage. “Douglas, you were watching Christopher, did he go out last night?”

  Poor Douglas looked entirely lost, finally he went with the truth. “Yes, ma’am, early this morning, to see old friends.”

  Before I could blink, she was standing over him, and her hand was coming down. The smack was over in a second, and with a loud crack Douglas went down; his neck snapped. His head hung at an unnatural angle for a minute then slowly moved back in place.

  “You were supposed to be watching him!” she shrieked. “Get upstairs. I’ll deal with you later.”

  She turned back to us, her face perfectly set, the demonic rage gone. I suspected Vianne knew exactly where Chris had been, and Douglas hadn’t done anything wrong.

  “Christopher is still asleep. I’m terribly sorry you can’t talk to him. I will though, and I’ll call you as soon as I find out where he was.”

  We thanked her, as much for the performance as for her time, and headed back to the squad room. I didn’t think for a second that Douglas was in trouble. Vianne was a manipulative bitch, but she wasn’t stupid.

  “You okay?” I asked Danny as we walked out to the car. The bright setting sun made me feel better, but he still looked spooked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” he said, slamming the car door. “I think she ‘magics’ people a little, not enough that you’d really notice, but enough that you want to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

  “Funny, I didn’t notice anything.”

  “But you’re not exactly her type are you?”

  “True. But if you were under her thrall, it be more obvious, right? Unless—” I stopped myself. Danny didn’t like to talk about his supernatural heritage. If he was already upset, it might not be good to bring it up.

  “Unless what?”

  “Do you think you being a little more than human helps you shake it off?”

  “Maybe.” He started the car, taking a minute to think it over.

  “Maybe she uses a normal dose of magic, but you’re not exactly normal, so it doesn’t hit you as hard. Sort of like trying to get a fairy drunk with wine—it’s not impossible, but it takes a lot. You could be the same way. So she’d need to use more magic to make you completely compliant. “

  “Ick.”

  “Hey that’s my line,” I said with mock horror. “So what can we do about her?”

  “Unfortunately, not a lot. Amadeus isn’t willing to cooperate with an arrest, neither is Puck. If they were we could get a warrant, but even then it would be for Chris, not for her.”

  “But Chris is under aged, so technically she committed a crime in turning him.”

  “Yeah, but it’s like statutory rape, you don’t throw people in jail for it.” The traffic swelled around us, a thousand worker bees on their way home. Individually they would all be furious over what happened to Chris, but collectively society didn’t protect boys the way it did girls. Chris was seventeen, and sleeping with a much older woman, most men would consider than an accomplishment, not a crime. People would be offended, but they wouldn’t do anything about it. The situation bothered me. I spent most of the ride brooding about it until I realized there was someone who didn’t agree, and I suspected he was more than willing to do something about it.

  “We don’t throw people in jail for it but…”

  “Don’t even say it out loud,” Danny cautioned as we pulled into the garage. “What vampires do amongst themselves
is only a police matter if they call us for help.”

  ****

  I didn’t call Jakob right away. Instead I finished up my lists for Danny and spent the afternoon thinking about the cases. We’d gotten some good leads—like the information from the high school about Chris and Kelly—but there were still a lot of questions. When I knew I’d given him a few hours to wake up I picked up the phone and called Jakob. He answered on the third ring.

  “Could I see you tonight?” I asked, pretty sure of the answer.

  “I have an early meeting, but I could take a lunch between ten and eleven.”

  “I think that might be enough time,” I said with a smile. Danny looked up from his work, and I blushed.

  “I could come over after work if there’s anything left,” Jakob continued unaware of my sudden need for modesty.

  “You could.” It might be nice to spend the night at his place, away from the city, take a break from crime. “Or I could hang out at your place while you’re at work.”

  “Ahh but how would you get there?”

  Hell, he had me. “Come by here and get me, then I’ll drop you at work, then I can come get you when you’re done?” It was overly elaborate but with one car you had to be.

  “Might I point out that any of the cars we looked at the other night would solve this problem.”

  “Only if you wanted to be smug about it.”

  He laughed. “If you do come over, you’ll have to bring clothes.”

  “For what?” I asked.

  “For everything I suppose, I have no idea how this works.”

  “Oh are we back to the drawer?”

  “We are indeed. I cleaned out two for you; it seemed easier than trying to find something new we both like.”

  “Sounds good, but you have to bring stuff over to my place. It’s supposed to be reciprocal.”

  “I’m beginning to believe it would be easier to get married.”

  “You could be right,” I agreed.

  “Would you like to?”

  “Very funny, I’ll bring clothes over. How’s tonight?” I said.

  “Tomorrow?” He paused checking something. “Actually Wednesday after your birthday dinner would be better.”

  He sounded off, and I suspected he was hiding something about my birthday celebrations. Of all the cars, I hoped he didn’t pick the Hummer.

  “Come over for lunch then,” I said with smile. We said our goodbyes, but as I hung up I saw Danny look over at me with a glance I probably wasn’t meant to see. “What?” I asked him.

  “I think he sounded serious.”

  “Serious about what?” I asked.

  “The marriage thing, he proposed.”

  “Oh please, no one proposes over the phone. Go home; work is obviously getting to you.” I teased as I took my own advice.

  ****

  When Jakob cooked healthy food for me I loved it. Especially since Jakob’s idea of healthy had stopped developing somewhere in the 1950s. He believed every meal should have a meat (preferably red), a green vegetable, and a starch (preferably potatoes). I had no such delusions. For me one of the perfect meals was stove top macaroni and cheese, eaten from the pot. With no one to impress and no reason to stress over dinner, I put a pot on to boil. I reached over the burner to grab some salt from the spice rack and the flame shot up and on to my wrist.

  I stumbled backwards, tears filling my eyes. The burn was already bright red and very painful. I cursed loudly. Even through my tears I could see the gas burner was back down to a mellow low flame. Either the burner had had the most perfectly timed malfunction or the fire goddess was trying to tell me something. Bitch. At the sink I ran cold water over my forearm, the bright red skin was now forming tiny blisters. Did that mean second degree or third? I could grab the phone and call someone who would know. I thought through my choices, Danny had kids, don’t people with kids get an automatic first aid class or something? Anna was out of town. Phoebe never seemed to have first aid skills. Jakob might know, but he was in a meeting. The pain sang up at me, keeping me from thinking straight. I was forgetting someone.

  E.

  I was forgetting her because I was thinking of a list of my friends, and the two of us weren’t really friends. I took my arm out from under the cold water, the burning pain doubled, even the air was too much for me. I took deep breaths to steady myself while I grabbed ice from the freezer. I gave the dish towel and the germs it carried only a quick thought, the cooling bliss of the ice was too much for me to worry about infection. I used my good arm, my right, to turn off the burner. Suddenly, I wasn’t hungry. Look at that I’ve developed a new diet. Every time you want to eat, just cause yourself intense pain. I laughed a little, grateful no one could see me clutching an ice filled towel to my wrist, tears streaming down my face, laughing like a mad woman.

  I made it out the door and down the hall to E’s apartment without more insane laughter and a small amount of cursing. I considered that a victory. I banged on the door and then gave up and slumped across the frame. Be home, E. Be home.

  “Where’s the—” she said as opened the door but her cliché stopped when she saw me.

  “Fire? It was in my apartment,” I growled. “I need your help.”

  “I’ll say, come on in,” she said and steered me to the living room. I was being led around by a woman who was easily five inches shorter than I was. At my heaviest I would have weighed nearly double her weight, but as she directed me to the brown leather couch, I didn’t question that she was the one in charge.

  “Nice.” She gave a low whistle at the state of my arm. Unwrapping the jury-rigged ice pack made me gasp in pain. There were more blisters now, and the skin had changed to bright red and a painful shade of whitish gray. “Second degree. Do I want to ask what happened?”

  “I think your bitch of a goddess was sending me a message. Next time she can use the phone or email—” I stopped as fresh pain ran through my body. All my muscles tightened, and new tears came to my cheeks. The pain took my breath away; I couldn’t even speak.

  “Why don’t I take care of this for you?” E put her own hand on the top of my ruined forearm, and the agonizing heat began to abate. In its place gentle warmth spread down my arm. The fire spreading from beneath her finger tips wasn’t blue like mating fire. It was exactly the same color as the fire that had done the damage, but somehow the yellow-red flame was healing. There was an edge to the feeling, pleasure maybe or comfort, an edge of something happy. I got caught up in it, closing my eyes to explore the feeling.

  “See, I’m only a bitch when I have to be.” My eyes popped open. The voice wasn’t E’s light alto; it was another sound altogether and entirely inhuman. A voice like the crackle of flame turned into speech. “Tell Joanna I gave her what she asked for and she threw it away. And this part, sweet Mallory?” Her hand, E’s hand moved to my cheek, and pleasant warmth spread there. It tingled and tempted, promising even more exciting things if I let it continue. “You and I could share this.”

  She smiled, E’s face smiling in a way I was sure E didn’t smile, a smile offering sex and power but at a pretty price. She blinked and the eyes that looked at me were E’s soft brown not the solid flame colored red. She blinked, her eyes came back, and the pleasure at my arm disappeared. I was sorry to see it go.

  “She doesn’t do email.” E’s sarcasm came with her familiar voice. “So be more careful or light a candle to Her like everyone else, so She doesn’t have to burn you.” I looked down at my arm, the skin was perfectly smooth, the way it had been. She’d saved me weeks of healing and a nasty scar, but E didn’t even look winded.

  “Thanks for the heads up. I’m not really good at this part of witchcraft,” I admitted.

  “I guess not, no death god to help you out.” E leaned back on the couch, a bright orange cat jumped into her lap, and she stroked it softly. “She likes you. You should be careful.”

  “Anna told me the same thing once.”

  “Anna…now t
here’s a puzzle.” E pulled her hands along the cat’s body. It purred happily in response. “She likes Anna just fine, but She’s horribly disappointed in her. Any minute now disappointment’s going to turn into disgust, and then it’ll get ugly.”

  “Ugly?”

  “There are no ex-fire witches, Mallory, only burned bodies.”

  ****

  I managed to find my hunger after a few hours lost in a book. I rummaged in the fridge and found leftovers that could be microwaved. Lucky for me since I wasn’t going anywhere near the stove for a while. I ate with the book in one hand and the fork in another. Growing up the only child of a single working mom meant I was used to meals alone; they didn’t bother me. Meals alone in a restaurant did, I always felt like I was on display. Thankfully, Jakob’s leftover food was as good as most of the places down town, and I didn’t have to be gawked at.

  I was half way through the dishes when I heard his key in the lock. I scrambled to finish so he wouldn’t find me wearing my entirely stupid looking yellow plastic dish gloves. I’d never been vain about my hands until I got a model for a friend. The way Anna examined my rough cuticles and chipped nails was enough that I bought my first set of dish gloves. I still wasn’t ready to get caught wearing them. I stripped them off and hung them over the faucet to dry.

  “How’s the sexiest master of the universe I know?”

  He laughed. “I doubt that title applies to me.”

  “It’s from a novel, a modern classic.”

  “Modern fiction and I don’t get along. I’ve had no one to introduce me.”

  “I’m happy to take the job.” I smiled, once again amazed at the things someone could miss. “The masters are all Wall Street brokers who work with millions of dollars; isn’t that pretty close to what you do?”

  “Maybe, at least tonight it’s close. Tell me, would you go to a witches only gym?”

  “Hmmm,” I pondered. “It seems like a neat idea, but I’m not a huge fan of the meat market scene.”

  “This is women only.”

  “Then yes definitely, especially since the girls would probably turn it into a hang out. It’d be like Convenire only less dancing and more sweat.”