by Skye Knizley
Thad set the glass aside and wiped his hands on a rag with such care that Raven wanted to slap him.
“There are some, Raven. I do not know if they will support the House Tempeste, though. Strohm didn’t just burn those bridges, he nuked the other side, as well and salted the ground for good measure. It is a testament to Mother’s skill as a politician that we have any allies at all,” he said.
Raven leaned on the counter and gripped the edge so hard it creaked. “Why is this the first I’m hearing all this?”
“Because Mother plays it close to the vest and thought you had enough on your plate keep our allies in line,” Thad said. “It got worse when you left, our enemies have been taking shots for the last year.”
Raven glared at him. “Who is behind it?”
Thad looked surprised. “The magikal attacks? I have no idea who−”
“Not them. Who was causing trouble while I was gone? I want a name.”
Thad rubbed his beard with his index finger as he thought. “Alexa Braeden’s Sidhe is the most vocal at Court. She’s made overt threats against the house and accused Mother of weakness and favoritism.”
“Alexa Braeden. You’re sure?”
“Positive, Ravenel. I have been at Court more as Mother’s advisor, I have heard the threats,” Thad said.
“Fine. Where does she hang out?”
Thad hesitated. “You won’t like it.”
“Where, Thad?”
Thad folded his arms and focused on his shoes. “When Lord Du Guerre vanished, she moved in and took possession of all his businesses and property, right down to his condo on the Loop.”
Raven blinked in surprise. “Why?”
Thad looked at her. “Why not? Someone had to and Mother had no interest. Without him, there was a power vacuum that had to be filled.”
Raven turned toward the door. “Dora or Isabeau or anyone family should have taken them, anyone loyal to the House.”
“Ravenel, what are you going to do?”
Raven looked at him, her eyes glowing. “It’s been a bad day and I’m tired of being on the back end of things. I’m going to go have some words with Alexa.”
Thad followed her down the hall. “Are you taking Aspen?”
Raven kept walking. “No.”
Thad grabbed her elbow. “She’s mad at you, isn’t she? I knew something was wrong.”
Raven pulled her arm free. “It’s nothing. I’ll see you tomorrow, call me if Mom’s condition changes.”
“Ravenel, it wouldn’t kill you to make time for her, show her how much she means to you,” Thad said.
Raven paused in the doorway and looked over her shoulder. “I’m trying, Thad. But it’s hard. My whole life has been about duty, especially since Dad… left.”
Thad shook his head and folded his arms. “Ravenel, life isn’t about duty. Duty is a thing we do, a responsibility, not why we live. If you do not hold her, your Fae will fly free.”
Raven stepped into the night. “Call you tomorrow, Thad.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Night Shift, Old Town Chicago, IL
The night had grown colder, so cold that normal people would have gone home for the night and taken shelter from the bitter wind and blowing snow that threatened to become an early storm. But the denizens of Old Town were anything but normal and the darkened courtyard was busy with street vendors selling meat pies, hot pretzels and coffee so strong it could almost walk out of the cup. Preternaturals and a selection of hangers-on mingled in and out of the busy courtyard and the businesses that made up the bulk of Old Town nightlife. Music, if it could be called that, blared from Club Purgatory’s exterior speakers, promising certain deafness and a chance at rubbing elbows with, if the lyrics could be believed, a hottie for the night. Across the courtyard, Isle of Night was busy with late-night diners enjoying their famous haggis, bubble-and-squeak and Nightside Dumplings, Macleod’s version of fried dumplings filled with everything from tame barbecue pork to boiled sheep’s eyes, while on the next block a line of eagerly waiting guests stood in line outside the Night Shift. When Du Guerre had opened it two years previously, it was patterned after a speakeasy he’d known, complete with jazz music and moonshine. Now, however, it looked as if it had been twisted into a sort of Gothic club for vampire wannabes. Where the previous signage had been made of wood discreetly lit by overhead lights, the new sign was a monstrosity of blue and purple neon that flickered on and off like something out of a cheesy 80s movie. It hung on the wall where Raven recalled there had been two picture windows looking out on the street. The whole wall had been rebuilt and covered in faux concrete for, she presumed, a more industrial look. The only vestige of the original club was the door, which was made of red-painted steel designed to look like wood. It was guarded by a large vampire wearing a latex power-lifter’s costume matched with boots and a German Wehrmacht helmet. He was checking id’s and looking at costumes before letting anyone in the club, and he was only allowing a few at a time.
As she had done so many times at Club Purgatory, Raven walked straight to the doorman rather than standing in line. He looked her up and down and smirked.
“Ravenel. Shouldn’t you be off cuddling your faerie dyke?”
Raven let her power flow. “Say that again, Embraced.”
His eyes turned green and he leaned closer. “I said, shouldn’t you be−”
Raven’s fist shot into his solar plexus like a piston and her elbow came up and hit him in the forehead. He staggered back under the impact and Raven pinned him to the wall with her forearm. “First, that’s Fürstin Tempeste, Embraced. Be grateful I’m in a good mood or you wouldn’t get a second chance. Second, if you ever call me, my partner or anyone else ‘dyke’ again, I will rip out your tongue and nail it to the wall. Am I clear?”
The vampire’s eyes were bulging and his neck was so compressed he couldn’t talk. He managed a weak nod and Raven let him go. She leaned close, so close her breathe was in his ear. “Listen to me, Embraced. You remember my name, and tomorrow you tell your Sidhe it was me, in the name of House Tempeste.”
The vampire rubbed his neck with one hand. “You? What are you going to do?”
Raven cocked her head. “To you? Nothing. You stand here and keep the humans out.”
She motioned at the door and the Embraced pulled it open. Loud music, symphonic metal, filtered through the heavy curtain beyond. Raven pushed through the curtains into a large semi-circular foyer decorated in red and black sound-deadening material. Paintings and photographs depicting scenes of monsters, the sort that creep in the night and hang out under the beds of children, were placed around the room, lit by overhead spotlights. One the far side of the room was a hostess dressed like a nurse, complete with cap and apron. Her pen was an oversized syringe and her small desk read “nurse’s station” in script Raven was sure was supposed to look like dripping blood.
“Table for one, or will someone be joining you?” the hostess asked.
Raven looked at her, inhaled her scent and realized she was an untouched human. Hurting her without a good reason was out of the question.
“Neither, thank you. Where might I find Alexa Braeden, please?”
The hostess smiled and it made Raven’s skin crawl. It was just too wide, too red. It was no wonder she was on door duty, someone should cast her as the villain in a horror flick.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, she isn’t available for guests tonight. Can I make you an appointment for later in the week?”
Raven stepped closer and tossed a twenty dollar bill on the podium. “No thanks. That should be enough for the cover.”
She started through the second curtain and was stopped by the smile again. “Wait, ma’am!”
Raven gave her a look, but she was unfazed. She held up a stamp between two fingers. “You need a stamp, security gets intense if you don’t have a
stamp.”
“I don’t need a stamp.”
Raven brushed through the curtain and into the club proper. It seemed bigger than she remembered, but that was likely because they removed the second floor to make the interior taller. The walls were covered in such a way that they looked like rusting plate steel and the floor was covered in white tile spattered with what Raven’s nose told her was real blood. A disc jockey was spinning symphonic metal from a both in the opposite corner and the dance floor was filled with a mixture of vampires and humans dancing together. Some so close Raven was sure they were violating Valentina’s rules on feeding.
A spiral staircase to the right climbed to the VIP area while rows of tables and booths stretched down the left side of the club. Most of the booths were busy with partiers sharing appetizers, alcohol and each other. Raven spotted an Embraced feeding on a young man in the back booth and she walked that way, her anger a hot ember in her gut. She grabbed the vampire’s hair and pulled him off the teenage boy he’d nearly killed. He fell to the ground screaming in protest and Raven kicked him in the face before lifting him to eye level. If the stink of blood, sex and malevolence hadn’t been rolling off him like a tidal wave, he’d have been an attractive man. He had long black hair, crystal blue eyes and perfect skin marred only by a small scar above his eye.
“Feeding on humans in public is against the rules, bub,” she growled.
The vampire spat blood in Raven’s face. “Says who?”
“Mistake,” a nearby voice said.
Raven glanced at the vampire, who she barely remembered from Court. He stood and moved away with his date in tow. Raven ignored him and looked back at the vampire.
“Fürstin Ravenel.”
Raven saw his lips forming the word “who?” and her anger boiled over. She punched him in the face and felt his nose pulp beneath her knuckles. He fell to the floor cradling his ruined face and the music changed, from symphonic metal to heavy metal.
“Security, please see to the guest in section one,” a voice said.
As if by magic a group of three vampire guards appeared. They wore matching black shirts and pants, had matching biceps the size of her head and expressions that said they enjoyed hitting people. A lot. Raven faced them and tried to keep from feeling the excitement building in her stomach.
“Gentlemen,” she said. “Your friend here was breaking the rules, but don’t worry. I took care of it for you.”
One of the guards loomed over Raven. “We’re not here for him, we’re here for you.”
He made to grab her and she blocked him with her left arm. “You boys are in over your heads and I’m getting bored. Go away before something gets damaged.”
The guards showed fang and attacked as one. Raven blocked the second one, spun and kicked the third in the face then did a handspring onto a table, out of the reach of the first. When the second made a grab, she kicked a wine glass into his face, jumped over him and pushed the first to the floor with her weight. He grunted in pain and she kneed him in the sternum, knocking the wind out of him and sending bones into his heart. It wouldn’t kill him, but he’d be out of the fight. She somersaulted away and blocked the third guard’s attack with her forearm. He turned for a second attack and her outstretched fingers hit him in the throat, making him gag. He grabbed his throat at the same time that the third guard grabbed her from behind. Raven kicked the guard that was choking hard enough to send him into a table and her backwards into the third vampire. They fell in a heap on one of the booth tables and Raven rammed the back of her skull into his face. He screamed and let go, giving her breathing room. She twisted and planted her heel in his chest. Bone cracked so loud it was audible above the music and the vampire collapsed, out of the fight.
Raven spun and looked up at the VIP booth, where Braeden was leaning on the railing. Alexa Braeden had been beautiful in life, a fashion model turned actress who specialized in martial-arts flicks in the 1970s. She’d been turned, lost her career and, as far as Raven knew, been nothing but a pain in the ass ever since.
Braeden smiled and raised a microphone to her lips. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a genuine celebrity in our midst. Can I get a big hand for Fürstin Ravenel Tempeste?”
To Raven’s surprise, the humans in the crowd rose and began applauding almost like marionettes. Raven’s heart went cold as she looked at them, then back at Braeden. She was one of Du Guerre’s Embraced, she had to be. Only progeny carried powers like that, and what Braeden was doing was the same mind-control he could do.
“Let them go, Alexa,” Raven said.
Braeden smiled behind her microphone. “Why would I do that, Ravenel? Because you say so? Because your mother says it’s against the rules? Vampires are the top of the fucking food chain, it’s time we acted like it. I knew your mother would send you, sooner or later. We’ve been expecting you. Ladies and gentlemen, bring me Ravenel’s head.”
Raven looked at the people around her and saw that they were no more than meat under Braeden’s control. Their eyes were blank, their faces slack, expressionless. They would do whatever she said without question, without any thought at all.
They were also innocent.
Raven jumped onto a table, then from there onto the staircase. She caught the railing just before two of the humans caught her legs. She kicked them away and pulled herself onto the steps. Behind her more of the humans were swarming up the steps. She kicked the one at the head of the pack just hard enough to send him tumbling down the stairs into the rest then ran, taking the steps one at a time. When she reached the top, she was confronted by a pair of vampires armed with shotguns. The first vampire managed to squeeze off a shot that grazed her ribs before she ripped the shotgun from his grasp and broke his jaw with the stock. She raised the second one’s weapon just as he squeezed the trigger and she felt the heat of the blast by her ear. She growled at the vampire, who let go of the weapon and she rammed it through his chest. He fell to the ground and she kicked him in the face for good measure.
The delay had been just enough for the humans to catch up. They swarmed out of the stairwell, pulling and tugging at her, tearing away clothing and hair. The pain in her hair made her scream and her monster rose to the surface, unbidden. She grabbed the nearest human as gently as she could and threw him into the others, who fell under the weight. She then drew her pistol, spun and shot the vampire trying to sneak up behind her. He exploded in a spray of ash and sparks that fell around her like a sort of hellish glitter.
With the three guards dead, it was just Braeden and her small personal entourage. They rose as Raven approached and drew their own weapons from concealment. Raven dropped three of the vampires with six well-placed shots and ducked behind a booth to reload. The magazine dropped to the floor and she rammed another home as bullets peppered the booth she was hiding behind. When the slide clicked home, she peeked beneath the seat and saw the men approaching, weapons still firing. Raven shot two of them in the foot then again in the head when they fell. Their screams died in their throats as they exploded into ash, and Raven rolled from cover, her pistol spitting hot silver. The last vampire took a shot through the eye and showered Braeden with his ash.
Braeden stared at Raven open-mouthed and dropped the microphone she was holding.
“Fine, it’s you and me,” she said.
She dropped into a martial arts stance and bobbed on her toes, a full-on Bruce Lee wannabe.
Raven leveled her pistol at Braeden’s head. “Let the humans go.”
Braeden smirked. “No. They’re my insurance, Ravenel. If you manage to best me one on one−”
Raven didn’t let her finish. She squeezed the trigger and watched Braeden’s smirk dissolve in a cloud of ash.
“It wasn’t a request.”
She holstered her weapon as Braeden’s influence fled and the humans came back to themselves. She raised her badge over her head and gave the
m her best smile. “Apologies, ladies and gentlemen, there has been a harmless minor gas leak, please head to the exits in an orderly fashion and report to your local emergency care facility if you feel lightheaded or any other ill effects.”
As the bewildered crowd began to file out, Raven heard a voice rise above the others. “Agent Storm? I demand to know just what the hell is going on!”
Raven leaned over the railing and looked down at Lieutenant Mauser. He was dressed in a black suit and had a young Gothic girl clinging to his arm. A girl who was not his wife.
Swell, Raven thought.
“Ask your wife when you get home to her,” she said.
CHAPTER EIGHT
343 Wolf Point, Chicago, IL
It was near dawn when Raven finally returned home to find Aspen sleeping fitfully in the king-sized bed they shared. She’d undressed and climbed into bed with her without a sound, then held her until they were both asleep.
Raven awoke with a single beam of sunlight hitting her in the face and the sound of her phone playing That’s What You Get. It had been Aspen’s ringtone since they first met, almost three years before. She rolled over and saw that Aspen was gone and her side of the bed was cold.
“Aspen?” she asked when she finally managed to open her new phone.
“Good morning, sleepy head,” Aspen said cheerfully. “I knew you got in late so I didn’t wake you when I got up.”
Raven tried to focus on the clock, but her eyes wouldn’t focus on the clock. As far as she could tell, it was 32:07.
“What time is it?”
“Daytime, and almost after noon. I figured I should wake you up, Rupert is starting to worry,” Aspen said.
“Hell.” Raven sat up and rubbed sleep from her eyes. “What did I miss?”
“Rupe has a line on the Camaro our first vic was renting and he’s going down to Bronzeville to check it out. Dr. Zhu finished his autopsy and confirmed the same cause of death with matching MO and ligature marks. He thinks it was definitely the same killer,” Aspen said.