She sobbed into Logan’s chest. “Thank you, thank you.”
Logan put his knife arm around her and helped the injured teenager stand. No one bothered them. A scream came from Trotsky as an excited giggle rippled through the room. Logan glanced over his shoulder in disgust as he walked Barbarella through the lab doors. They reached the front doors of the science building. Two Shadowguard watched, but made no move to stop them.
“Turn into a werepuma and head for Seven Falls,” Logan said, thankful it was dark and no moon was cast. “Rose will take care of you. Tell her I’m doing what she asked.”
“I don’t understand. Why are you helping me?”
“Because you asked. Don’t cross the courtyard. Go around the building to the forest. Stick to mountain trails and avoid the roads. They may come looking for you.”
Wasting no time, Barbarella morphed into a large, black werepuma, bolted forward and vanished around the side of the building. Search lights hit the front of the building and Logan walked back inside. A lab attendant waited for him.
“It’s a miracle,” the bald man said. “You must come back, Agent Logan. Trotsky…he’s changed into his true form, but he can’t change back. It’s precisely how it was for all the therianthropes injected. He’s unable to turn back into his human form. It’s incredible. Please, you must come back with me.”
“What for?” Logan asked. “I cut the guy’s neck open.”
“And we thank you. I’ll care for your wound. Trotsky had no right to harm you. We’re furious with him for doing so. I promise no one is angry with you, Agent Logan. We’re so excited about the results. We wanted to tell you before fetching Dr. Leopold. Of course, we’ll do whatever you want, even if it means picking flowers.”
Logan was dumbfounded. “I helped you guys out?”
“Oh, yes. It’s because of you that we’ve progressed in solving the riddle of chameleon blood. Hopefully, Trotsky will live and be stronger than ever.”
This was not what Logan wanted to hear.
* * * * *
Chapter Eleven
The Night Market was embedded into the city’s former Fine Arts Buildings like a stuffed bear in the arms of a spoiled child. It was a marketplace for vampires to barter for goods, ranging from slaves to fine art. Building-sized, purple and black banners featuring various gargoyles extended from the roof on long poles, while torches flickered in the snow-laden courtyard. Guests in fine apparel arrived to attend the slave auction in the theater.
Raven walked hand-in-hand with Salustra from the limo to the glass-walled building. They accompanied Queen Cinder, Lord Cerberus, and Jean-Luc. The little queen and lord dressed like a fairy-tale princess and prince, in elaborate costumes stitched with gold thread and matching crowns. Cinder led Stephan on a leash. The golden-eyed werewolf trotted at her side, snarling at anyone who approached his queen. Not to be upstaged, Raven donned a lengthy, crushed-red velvet opera cloak over a midnight-black dress followed by her new pet, Luna. The werepuma was collared with diamonds and trotted close to Raven’s heels. Escorted by Captain Bechtel, the disgraced Pallaton’s replacement, Raven sauntered forward. A dozen Shadowguard followed.
“Tonight was to have been my engagement dinner,” Raven said, as they ascended the stairs to the entrance. “I’m sure the Kaiser has his reasons for the delay. I intend to spend lavishly on a new fighter. His money. My bag is filled with diamonds.”
The lobby was illuminated in red and purple lights as the crowd filtered into the theater, taking their seats. An elevator delivered Raven’s entourage to a private box on the second floor. Bechtel removed Raven’s cloak and remained standing while his men fanned out and framed her companions. The two therianthropes lay at their mistress’ feet casual and uninterested.
Bechtel offered Raven a playbill. “The auction will begin soon, Duchess. If you would like to purchase a fighter, nod and I will make the bid.”
Jean-Luc leaned across Salustra. “Duchess, these slaves hail from all over the world. Vampires are expensive and to be sold last. They will start with zombies, then advance to therianthropes, cyborgs, humans, and vampires.”
“I can read,” snapped Raven. She flipped through the playbill, reading each fighter’s bio. She found one that looked interesting.
Loki was from Italy, and had once been a fellow Viking and friend, but that life was far removed from her now. His owner, Salvatore D’Aquilla, was selling the champion for one- million in valuable jewels, or traded for one-hundred humans. The fine print listed two more fighters being auctioned by D’Aquilla: Skye and Monkey, who Raven also knew from the survivors’ camp.
“I want Loki,” Raven said. “He’s a Chameleon, which is why he’s so expensive and why I want him. A wedding gift for the Kaiser. He likes mutants.”
Salustra leaned toward Raven. “Why not someone else? A number of fighters from Greece and Germany are quite appealing.”
“Because I want a winner, not a loser. Did you see the photos of those cyborgs? They are disgusting. I won’t own a common zombie cyborg. You can pick them up off the street and outfit them with a computer. As for humans, they don’t last long in the arena; they are food. Nor do I wish to own a tarnished vampire.” She leaned down to pet Luna on the head. The werepuma let out a soft purr. “You’re a good girl.”
“It’s starting,” Salustra said.
Vampires filled the auditorium. A European power-metal band performed from the orchestra pit, creating a dark, lusty atmosphere. A vampire served Cinder blood and champagne. Salustra took a glass from the server, smiling at Raven.
“Thank you for asking me to attend tonight.”
“My pleasure. Now be quiet. I want to look at these freaks without being bothered by a bunch of chatter.” Raven leaned back, crossing her legs and gazed at her engagement ring. A red flame danced in the center of the diamond, producing a sudden calm that smoothed her anger. “If you want a slave, Salustra, I’ll buy one for you. You’re a good friend and I shouldn’t be bitchy with you.”
Salustra nodded. Cinder glanced over at Raven and stuck out her bottom lip and batted her eyes. Cerberus saw what the queen was doing and looked alarmed.
“I’ll buy you both a human,” Raven said, smiling wide enough to reveal her fangs.
Cinder clapped her hands. “Oh goodie!”
A tap on her shoulder turned Raven’s head. Bechtel was frowning at her. She narrowed her eyes and he looked away. The band faded, as an announcer dressed as a ringmaster took the stage. He made his introductions while vampire guards hauled out a pack of dirty zombies on chains.
Zombies and cyborgs demanded a better price than Raven would have guessed, while the lone werewolf required a moderate fee. The humans looked well-fed. Cinder selected a tall, blonde, German specimen. Salustra chose a female shipped from Hawaii who demonstrated her mastery of flaming lances in the arena. Cerberus declined. Bechtel purchased both humans at Raven’s nod.
“Acquire him,” Raven said when Loki was presented. “No matter the cost, I want him.”
Bechtel waited until the last second to bid. The auctioneer was ready to slam his gavel when the captain raised his hand. The bid was at two-million in jewels or two-hundred humans, buyer’s discretion. Pointing at Bechtel, the auctioneer banged the gavel three times, giving no chance for anyone else to lift their hand. The bid was closed.
“He is yours, Duchess,” Bechtel said.
“Of course he is. Now go and fetch him. I want Loki to ride home with us in the limo. He’s been to Italy. I want to hear about Europe’s Death Games.”
Chained and sedated, Loki sat next to Raven on the drive back to the Citadel, unable to speak or move on his own. He was no longer a skinny boy with pimples. Loki had filled out and added a jagged scar to his left cheek since she last saw him. The two humans huddled together on the floor of the limo, with the werepuma and werewolf.
Raven stared out the frost-covered window until they pulled up in front of Miramont Castle. Cinder and Cerberus climbed ou
t with Stephan and their new human fighter. House guards hurried to escort the new arrivals. When they were on the move again, Raven allowed Salustra to sit next to her.
“A pity Loki had to be sedated,” Salustra said. “Didn’t he used to be one of your friends, Raven? Wasn’t he a Viking? That was your old patrol team, yes?”
“Yes,” Raven said, nodding. “I don’t like his scar. Aren’t super humans impervious to wounds?”
“I could be wrong, but the scar comes from a werewolf. Not the kind we have here. The Old Ones live in the dark forests of Europe. They are nothing like Stephen. Old Ones don’t keep their human personalities and only turn during a full moon.”
“I still want one. Bechtel, you will contact Lord D’Aquilla and tell him I want an Old One as a wedding gift. I’m sure he’ll send one to me.”
The captain bristled. “It’s enough that I purchased Loki for you. The Kaiser won’t be happy about your indulgence. Unlike my predecessor, I do not intend to be demoted due to pandering to the whims of a girl.”
“What is to be Pallaton’s fate?” she asked, unable to resist.
“Pallaton was demoted to a lieutenant. I’m told he will recover, but he suffered serious injuries.”
At Salustra’s soft gasp, both Raven and Bechtel turned toward her. She was trying not to cry, but Raven knew she was upset.
“It’s the loss of an eye,” the captain said. “He has another one. Be content the Kaiser spared his life. Pallaton failed to capture Highbrow. I’m sure he will try to redeem himself.”
The limo arrived at the Citadel. Shadowguard were out in number, gathered around several vehicles parked in the courtyard. Pallaton wore an eye-patch and stood on the steps of the mansion, flanked by vampires escorting a line of disheveled humans.
Bechtel flew out before the limo stopped, appearing beside Pallaton, while Raven and Salustra climbed out with Luna and the Hawaiian woman. Guards dragged Loki as the two vampires talked for a moment. Bechtel continued inside with the humans, leaving Pallaton to the activity in the courtyard.
“Are those the bounty hunters?” Raven asked, flustered. They had waited days for their arrival from Texas. She had heard they were militia, but they looked like a gang of ruffians and hardened killers. The heavy odor from the unwashed humans was too overwhelming to follow them directly.
Salustra took her slave’s leash from a guard. “I’m sure they are. This is why your engagement party was postponed. Thank you again, Raven. I’ll see my slave to her new quarters. Aleka isn’t anything like Dragon, but she should be amusing to watch. Of course, I’ll split my winnings with you. We girls need to be able to afford our own comforts without having to rely on the men.”
Raven boiled as she watched Salustra walk down the sidewalk with her slave.
The Kaiser preferred the company of bounty hunters to her? It was an insult. Furious, she tore off her engagement ring and tossed it across the courtyard, breaking her finger in the process. It vanished in the snow.
“Oh, no. What have I done?” Raven looked for someone to help her and found Pallaton standing at her side. Her mind cleared, the world was no longer fuzzy and her emotions overwhelmed her. “I lost my ring!”
“Forget it,” Pallaton said. “You’re better off without it.”
“What a horrible thing to say. The Kaiser will be furious.”
Pallaton extended his fangs and peered at her with one glowing, yellow eye offset by his eyepatch. He was upset with her.
A moment ago Raven didn’t care what anyone thought, least of all Pallaton. Without the ring her emotions emerged, leaving her confused and frightened. A tear slid over the crest of her cheek. Pallaton lifted a finger to wipe it away.
The moment he touched her, a flood of feelings for the former captain returned. Raven threw her arms around his neck. He moved with such speed that she didn’t realize he was carrying her until they appeared behind the mansion in a gazebo surrounded by pine trees.
She was delighted. “I thought you were dead. I’m so happy to see you.”
“The ring is cursed,” Pallaton said, holding her close. “I should have left this place with you when you asked me to.”
Raven silenced him with a passionate kiss. “Tell me what happened, love. Why didn’t you capture Highbrow? How did you fail?”
“Because you released Star. She killed my men within minutes. Tandor is the one who blinded me. I escaped with my life.” Pallaton rested his head on top of hers, squeezing her tight. “Bechtel has replaced me, but he’ll do no better.”
“Then let’s run away, tonight.”
“Throw all your cares aside? What about Luna and Loki?”
“Salustra can take care of them. Please, Pallaton. If we don’t leave now, he’ll put the ring back on my hand, and I will be forever lost.”
“I want to, but there’s no safe place we can go. The Kaiser will send Bechtel to hunt us. If we are to be together, then I must find a way to destroy the Kaiser. His death is our only way.”
“His true name is Balan,” Raven said. “I’m sure I read that name in a book on demonology. Bechtel removed the books from my room, or I could go upstairs and look him up. You must use this information and find a way to kill him.”
“I’ll think of something.”
Pallaton kissed her one last time and sped away from the gazebo. It started to snow. Wrapping her cloak around her body, Raven stood up and headed back toward the mansion. As she rounded the corner, she found Captain Bechtel waiting for her on the landing. Several guards carrying flashlights and spear-guns with coiled ropes stood with him. Given their choice in weapons, Raven realized Pallaton’s replacement was cruel.
“Where have you been?” he asked, in a deep, distant voice. “We were coming to find you.”
“It’s none of your concern,” Raven said.
Emotions welled inside of her when Bechtel held out his hand holding the ring in his palm. He grabbed her arm, bruising her flesh as he forced the engagement ring on her finger. The moment it was on, Raven felt her worries and concerns flee. The darkness became a veil of deep, midnight blue, and the snow converted to a vivid pearl. She became furious for being handled so rough by a subordinate. Raven wrenched her arm free and slapped Bechtel hard.
“Don’t touch me again, animal, or I’ll have you killed,” Raven snarled. “If I want to go for a walk, I will. Those humans stink like pigs. I wasn’t about to enter the mansion after them and sully my clothes with their foul odor.” She adjusted her ring and held it up to her face. “So beautiful. I’m glad you found it. However, if the Kaiser ever puts humans before me again, I’ll throw it away. I won’t be second best.”
“Don’t dream of it, duchess. Follow me, I will return you to his care. He’s busy at the moment, so you may go to your room and see to your clothing. You smell more of cologne than pig.”
Raven reached out and clawed Bechtel’s face, leaving four scratch marks across his cheek. He stepped back, shocked by her actions.
“I hate you,” she growled. “You’ll be sorry for speaking to me in that manner. The Kaiser will not be pleased to hear how you treated me.”
Bechtel bowed low. “Nor will he be pleased you were with Lieutenant Pallaton. I’m sure you don’t want the Kaiser to know about that.” He lifted a hand to his face, cheek already healed. “Good night. Enjoy your new slave.”
Raven pompously entered the mansion and marched straight to her room. Luna was seated on a pillow in front of her bed, licking her paws. She threw her arms around the furry creature, and held her close. The therianthrope licked Raven’s face. Her tongue was rough and scratched Raven’s skin, but she allowed the cat to lick the scent of cologne off her face. Then she lifted her hand to gaze at the red flame dancing in her ring.
“You’re a good girl, Luna.”
She kissed the werepuma on the head. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to you, as long as you are obedient and always stay in your pretty cat body. I love you best this way. So keep me happy,
and I’ll make sure you’re well fed. Would you like a venison steak, my good girl?”
The werepuma dropped her head, tears rolling from her eyes. Luna shook her head, trying to communicate her sadness. Raven mistook it for a cat’s hunger, unable to see the broken heart of the woman within.
* * * * *
Chapter Twelve
Midmorning found Highbrow in the Dark Angels’ R.V., which now served as Rose’s lab, as trailers belonging to the deceased had been turned into the new hospital. One R.V. was used for minor surgery, another for those with pneumonia or bronchitis, and a third for newer cases of the flu. Only twenty children under the age of twelve remained in camp, and all of them were sick. If things kept going this way, Highbrow would have to commission the mess hall as an infirmary, and let people cook their food in their R.V.s. Campfires were now forbidden, and time spent outside was kept at a minimum, as Highbrow was worried another attack was imminent.
Rose was taking Star’s blood, while Marie, an older female vampire, worked in the back room administering diagnostic tests. Highbrow stood while he watched Rose finish up with Star. The petite Chameleon sat at the kitchen table with one hand holding up her head and the opposite arm stretched across the tabletop. Her shirt sleeve was pushed up, exposing a bulging vein in the crease of her elbow. A needle jutted from her vein as dark maroon liquid filled the final vial. Star squirmed and tried not to watch, causing Rose to smile.
“I didn’t realize you were squeamish, Star. You wouldn’t make a good vampire.” She removed the needle and placed a bandage over the puncture. “I’m done with you, young lady.”
Star shivered with relief. “Good. Maybe now I can go see Thor. A hike is just what I need.”
“Not today,” Highbrow said. “I know you want to head to Cadence’s camp, Star, but I need you here. You’re the official guard-dog until I get more muscle in here. I’m about to make the rounds, if you would like to join me.”
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