Assassins Bite

by Mary Hughes

  “Synnove? Why do you have Ric’s phone? Is he…?” He couldn’t say the worst.

  “No, he’s just resting.”

  Her emphasis told him Ric was fully buried. “I thought what we did cured him.”

  “It got rid of the circulating poison. But some had already invaded his tissue.”

  “He’s still poisoned?” Aiden’s fangs threatened to punch out of his gums. He slapped the table in frustration, an unusual show of temper for him. “Elias’s help bought us nothing?”

  “It bought us time. Ric’s alive. We’re researching an antidote. Elias has all his best people on it. And me.” If anyone was motivated to find a cure, it was Dr. Synnove Byornsson Holiday. “So why’d you phone?”

  In a few discreet words he sketched out Nosferatu’s call and the problem. “Ric is the only one with a prayer of convincing Madison or Milwaukee to throw in with us.”

  “And without help we can’t stop Nosferatu’s full force.” She sighed. “I’ll let you know when Ric wakes. But honestly, he won’t be up to traveling any time soon.”

  Aiden ended the call and pushed his plate away, not able to even pretend an appetite.

  “What’s wrong?” Breaking off a bit of cheese Danish, Sunny eyed him. “So what if Ric can’t travel? Can’t he handle it by phone?”

  “Negotiations will be delicate enough.” Aiden shook his head. “My kind respects strength. To clinch the deal, he’d have to be there in person and at full strength.”

  “Oh.” She chewed slowly, thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Okay. You’ll have to do it.”

  “What? No.”

  “Hey, it’s not my fault your kind is stupidly macho. You need a strong leader to go face-to-face and you need it in the next day or so. That means you.” She calmly broke off another piece of Danish and popped it into her mouth.

  He leaned in, keeping his voice down. “I’m no negotiator. My idea of compromise is leaving a vamp’s head near the body after I chop it off.”

  She leaned in too. “Well, either you do it or we come up with another plan. Like bringing in the Iowa Alliance—”

  “Damn it.” He scowled at her. “I hate it when you’re right.”

  She quirked a smile. “Get used to it.”

  Get used to it? Like she’d be with him after this was over? He spoke quickly to cover his bubbling emotions. “It shouldn’t be that hard, I suppose. Talk to them, convince them to throw in with Minneapolis. We only have to repel Nosferatu once. He’s a coward. Spank him and he’ll go home.”

  “Easy.” She picked up her fork and worked on her potato pancake.

  “Right.” Then why was he hyperventilating?

  Oh yeah. Because Ric usually did the schmoozing and partying and dancing thing. Aiden’s schmoozed with shadows, partied with death, and his dance partner was his sword.

  Except when sparring with Sunny, a delightful new dance. His life had changed, at least for now. “You’ll come with me.”

  “Me?” Her fork dropped to the table with a clatter. “No. I have work tonight.”

  “Please?” It was getting easier to say, at least with her.

  “I’m such a softie.” She sighed and pulled out her phone. “Elena? I need a couple favors. I need tonight off for, um, v-guy things. Thanks, that’s great. I also need contact info for the biggest v-guy masters in Milwaukee and Madison. Text is fine. Thanks.” She disconnected and a few moments later there was a beep.

  She thumbed the screen, punched in a few brisk strokes then turned the phone over to him. “I entered the number. But you’ll have to make the call.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  In many ways, Aiden thought, it was like the years with his father. He could see the fist, the disaster, coming, but couldn’t do a thing to stop it.

  With Sunny’s help, he overrode his loner instincts and scheduled meetings with Milwaukee and Madison. He’d even dressed in one of Ric’s incomprehensible outfits, suit and tie and crisp white shirt. He felt like an imbecile until he caught Sunny drooling.

  Then, mindful of image, he and Sunny borrowed a Merc from Strongwell and drove to the lair of Vingt, Milwaukee’s most powerful master, with a household of five lieutenants and fifty humans, another dozen households owing fealty. The master also headed several Fortune Five Hundred companies which provided cash flow. Aiden had done his homework.

  Contrary to Nosferatu’s sub-basement den, Milwaukee’s large, airy office was on the top floor of one of the city’s many skyscrapers; an older building, but recently renovated from the bare metal sculptures, exposed ductwork and square everything of the neoindustrialist theme. Updated with vampires in mind, with several stories of underground parking and light-canceling shades, now open to the night.

  “Mr. Blackthorne.” The man behind the desk stood, tall, his blond hair slicked back. Neither vampire offered his hand. “Please sit. What can I do for you?”

  “Mr. Vingt.” The master’s name was Harold, but with his sleek hair, frosty blue eyes and James Marsters cheekbones, Aiden couldn’t think of the male as anything but Milwaukee.

  Aiden sat, cramping his backside in the miniscule guest chair. Milwaukee eased into his leather executive chair. His aircraft carrier desk and folded hands were barriers Aiden recognized but didn’t know how to combat. At least, not without his trusty knife.

  So he chewed back his fangs and outlined the plan, ending with, “Nosferatu’s a coward. We just need to repel him once.”

  “I see. Why do my people have to fight?” Milwaukee’s tone was irritatingly reasonable. “Why here?”

  “This is one of the two ways Nosferatu will come. And it won’t be just your people. Minneapolis will fight alongside you. Ric Holiday can…” His words jumped as Sunny nudged him. “…Ric and I can call up three hundred.” A stretch, but Aiden counted himself for at least a dozen.

  Milwaukee shook his head. “Not nearly the numbers Nosferatu will bring, according to you.”

  “He’s a coward,” Aiden said with increasing exasperation. Killing was easy compared to this. “We won’t need to overwhelm him. All we need to do is smack him on the nose, and he’ll go running.”

  “Six hundred, versus a thousand? I’m sorry, the numbers just don’t add up.”

  “Then we’ll add in Madison,” Aiden said in desperation.

  “Madison?” The industrialist’s tone changed, stiff with outrage.

  If Aiden were fighting hand-to-hand, that tone would’ve prompted immediate defense, his secondary weapons already drawn. Now he reached for words to block and parry even as he chafed at how inadequate they were. “But if the master in Madison can call up near your numbers, we’ll have more than enough—”

  “A bunch of pointy-headed intellectuals and pasty-faced bureaucrats, fight? I’m sorry, Blackthorne. What you ask is impossible.” He stood.

  Aiden stood too. “What if I brought proof Madison will join us?”

  Sunny rose beside him. Her planted feet and flinty glare said she was furious with Milwaukee. But she kept quiet, bowing this once to outdated vampire customs. He had a feeling she’d change that very quickly once they got their own household.

  His thoughts stuttered. Their household? He’d never even considered it before. Yet now it entered his thoughts as an almost foregone conclusion.

  Milwaukee spread his hands. “Mr. Blackthorne, I’d like to help you. But even if you could convince Madison to fight, fighting alongside me is another matter. We’re problem-solvers here, practical industrialists. The exact opposite of Madison. We might manage a truce if someone strong leads us…?” He raised a blond brow in question.

  Aiden broke out in a sweat. Lead two warring factions against the army of a master of Nosferatu’s age? That would take finesse. Ric might manage it, but it made Aiden want to shoot himself several times, sweep up the pieces and shoot them.

  Still
, he managed a cool, “I’ll keep that in mind,” put a casual arm around Sunny, and glided out.

  “That went well,” she muttered darkly.

  He whisked her into the elevator before replying. “It could have gone worse. He could have attacked us.”

  “Nah. You’d’ve sliced him into ribbons. Besides, underneath he’s okay. Did you see his beer can collection?”

  That lightened Aiden’s mood. “Let’s see what we can do with Pat Proway.”

  The home of the Madison master stood in the shadow of the state capitol building. The hallways were polished marble and wood, echoey and drafty. So it was a surprise when they were ushered into a snug first-floor office a quarter the size of Milwaukee’s.

  The bigger surprise was the curvy brunette sitting behind the graceful desk, wearing a fashionably cut red suit and Tina Fey glasses.

  Madison didn’t look up. “What can I do for you?”

  “Pat Proway?”

  “Patricia.” She stamped a page and turned it over.

  “Ms. Proway, you have a problem. Nosferatu is headed in this direction with an army.”

  “How is that my problem? Rumors say he’s headed for Minneapolis, not Madison.” She still hadn’t looked at him.

  Well, the office was warmer, but Madison’s master was a few degrees cooler. Aiden scowled. “You want Nosferatu anywhere near you? When he marches home, who’s to say he won’t stop here?”

  “He hasn’t bothered us before.” She signed the page and slid it into an elegant wicker out basket. “Precedence suggests he will continue to do so.” She pinched a packet from another basket and squared it before her on the desk. “Besides, even if we wanted to keep him out, how could we?”

  “By combining forces with us. Madison and Minneapolis.”

  “I’m a hundred and you’re not much older. Us, against the might of an ancient?” She looked up then, hitting him with startlingly blue eyes magnified by the glasses.

  Aiden controlled his automatic flinch. She did that on purpose, he thought. It was the intellectual equivalent of a stomp check.

  Which meant, if this was a sparring match, he needed to counter immediately. “Nosferatu is old, but he’s no ancient.”

  “That’s not what my sources say.” She went back to her paperwork.

  “Believe me, Ms. Proway. I’ve met ancients, and I’ve met Nosferatu. He might be millenniums old but he lacks a certain…stature.”

  “And yet he commands the nation’s third-largest city.” She stamped another page and tossed the packet in the out basket. Folding her hands in front of her in a gesture curiously reminiscent of Milwaukee’s, she hit him with those eyes. “Let me be plain, Mr. Blackthorne. I’d like to help, but I just don’t see the advantage. And I see several disadvantages, primary of which is making a superior force angry.”

  “All three of us together might match—”

  “Oh please.” She laughed. “You and me and Harold, allies? My city might help—we’re thinkers and doers here—but those Milwaukee vampires are money-grubbing hogs with shit for brains.” She sniffed. “They’re jealous of us.”

  “We need only combine forces for a short time.” The two of them gave Aiden a headache. “Nosferatu is a coward. If we push him back once, he’ll never challenge any of us again.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Blackthorne. We might manage a truce if someone else leads, but as it is, my hands are tied.” She pressed a button on an intercom. “Cerah, please see Mr. Blackthorne and Officer Ruffles out.”

  On the way back to Meiers Corners. Aiden slumped in the passenger seat of the sun-shielded sedan. Sunny drove. “It’s not your fault. They obviously hate each other.”

  “I should have done something. I just don’t know what.” He palmed his head. “It’s worse because I know Ric would’ve had them eating out of his hands.”

  “Only with rubber gloves.” She smiled. “Ric’s had practice at it. How many hours a night do you practice hand-to-hand? How many with your knife?”

  “Well…” He had to think. “All of them.”

  “Exactly. If you’re not fighting, you’re practicing fighting. If you’re not practicing, you’re studying fighting. If you’re not studying, you’re sleeping. Am I right?”

  He blew air. “Pretty much.”

  “Well, then. What does Ric do with his time?”

  “He runs his household. And his company…you’re clever. He’s constantly negotiating.”

  “Right.” She smiled at him and he thought she had the most beautiful smile on Earth. “So you tried once, and it didn’t work. Learn from it and try again. You’ll do better next time.”

  As we drove back to Meiers Corners, Aiden fell silent. I wanted to help but I wasn’t sure how. The clock was ticking. Soon the master vampire who killed and made Aiden would invade, a thousand or more at his back. Even the deadliest shadow couldn’t stand against that alone. He needed Milwaukee and Madison to agree to his plan.

  But how? I hoped Nosferatu would wait long enough for us to come up with an idea.

  So I was silent too as Strongwells’ frame garage came into view. Aiden hit the garage door opener and I drove inside…and down a ramp. This was no simple two-car garage, but entrance and cover for a whole sub-basement parking level. I slid the sedan into a spot and we went up the stairs to the basement.

  “Well.” Aiden looked so sad. “I’d better get out of this monkey suit.” As he walked away, my heart ached for him.

  But when I started to go after him, Elena intercepted me. “We need to talk.”

  “What’s wrong?” I followed her to the kitchen. “Are we still on for Dirk tonight?”

  “Yeah, about that.” She rubbed her nape and looked pained.

  The air left my lungs. “What?”

  “It’s just that Bo and I talked and the first rising is…awkward. Everything about it is difficult.” Her face screwed into a grimace as she fumbled with words.

  “Awkward like bodily fluids awkward, or awkward like dangerous?”

  “Both, actually.” She dropped her hand. “They’re like babies, uncoordinated as hell except for the instinct to suck fresh blood. If there’s a human anywhere near, they’ll pounce. Whoever the human is, even friends and relatives. Bo won’t let me be there.” She paused. “He thinks you shouldn’t be, either.”

  “He’s my brother. I have to be here.”

  “Okay. Okay, just…wait outside until he’s stable. And don’t expect much. You can see him and say hello, but he won’t be able to reply—nothing works at first—and then he’ll need to sleep. Is that good?”

  “It’ll have to be, won’t it?”

  She smiled ruefully. “Yes. Bo’s house, Bo’s rules. At least about this.”

  “Speaking of house rules…how does he feel about guests? I don’t think Aiden is up to dragging himself anywhere to sleep. Me either.” Actually, I simply didn’t want to leave Aiden.

  “We have a couple free rooms.” She studied my face and slowly smiled. “But only one bed made up. King size.”

  I sighed and smiled back. “Thanks.”

  Elena showed me the room. I called Mom and let her know where I was. Then I stripped, dug my hopeful matching red underwear out of my duffel—we’d gone directly from Otto’s after planning to Strongwells’ for car and suit—and arranged myself provocatively on the bed.

  Aiden must’ve found me asleep and tucked me in because when I woke I was under the covers with him. Neither of us felt like talking. We made love but mostly we snuggled. I could picture doing this on a more permanent basis. Now if I could just convince Aiden.

  An hour before sunset I got up, showered and dressed in worn jeans and fresh undies. Tonight I would be reunited with my brother.

  Elena met us coming out of the room. My face must’ve asked the question I couldn’t voice. She pulled me in for a b
rief hug. “It’s looking good.”

  “Thanks.” I heaved a relieved sigh. “What do I do?”

  “You hang out with me in the kitchen and drink coffee until the guys have done their thing.” She gathered me by the shoulders and steered me upstairs. “Then you go in, reassure Dirk that you still love him and leave him to rest. Um, reassure him without touching him or getting anywhere near him. The guys will put fresh blood in his veins but he’ll be mostly instinct.”

  “Fangs first?”

  “Right. Blackthorne’s seen almost as many of these as Bo, so Dirk’s in good hands.” She led me back to the kitchen, where Mrs. Cook’s hot, strong coffee helped me through the time until the sun went down.

  My phone’s weather app told me the exact time of sunset. It came and went. My concentration dwindled with every minute after. “How long does it take?”

  “As long as it takes. Each one is different.” She took my hands. “Be patient.”

  “Couldn’t I sneak downstairs for a peek?”

  She turned a bit green. “Um, no. With what Bo told me…really, you don’t want to see.”

  “He’s my brother—”

  “Okay, we’re ready.” Bo appeared in the doorway, face drawn, skin papery and eyes dull, as haggard as I’d ever seen the handsome Viking.

  “Let’s do this.” Elena hooked my arm and we descended.

  Later I’d realize the room had been staged, my brother propped into a lounging position in front, Aiden at his side, relaxed, but his hands ready to restrain Dirk on a split second’s notice.

  Then, I only had eyes for my brother. I opened my arms and would have rushed to him, but Elena stopped me with a barring arm and a cautionary scowl. I let my hands fall.

  Dirk looked good. He glowed with an inner strength I’d never seen before.

  Then he opened his mouth. “Uhhy! Eah o eeuh.”

  “Sunny,” Aiden translated. “I’m glad to see you.”

  “Are you sure that’s what he said?”

  “They’re like babies,” Elena said. “The systems have to reintegrate. He’ll be fine. Maybe better than fine.”