by Jim C. Hines
A camera above the doors swiveled toward us. I swallowed and stepped forward. So far, so good, but the love magnet couldn’t affect the entire nest. If I couldn’t convince them we were on the same side, working against a common enemy . . .
“I’m Isaac Vainio,” I said. “Your vampires tried to kill me earlier this week. I’d like to talk to someone about that. I also thought you’d want to know what I’ve learned about whoever’s enslaving your kind.”
I held my breath. All it would take was a single command relayed over the radios carried by both guards, and we were dead.
“Rupert Loyola is ash,” Kyle added. “He had been taken over by this same enemy.”
Lena’s fists were clenched by her sides. “Are you going to be okay?” I whispered.
She gave me a sharp but unconvincing nod. Her breathing was quick, and she shifted her balance on the balls of her feet, like a tiger preparing to pounce. The guards noticed it, too. They raised their guns slightly in a not-so-subtle warning.
I slipped my hand into her hair and kissed her, trying to focus her attention on me. I felt her relax slightly. She pulled away, but muttered a quick, “Thanks.”
It might have been better to leave Lena behind, but I doubted all the vampires and Porters in the world could have kept her back. And truth be told, I was far more comfortable with her along, both for protection and for her company. For the determination in her every step, even when she was afraid. She knew her limits, but she also knew her strength.
I knew neither, and I envied her.
Both vampires stiffened, then turned to open the doors, presumably responding to a mental command from within.
“Good luck,” said our escort before walking away, leaving Lena, Kyle, and myself at the entrance to what looked like an underground palace. Glowing crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The upper part of the walls was rough-hewn stone. Closer to the floor, the rock had been carefully carved into recessed archways, each of which housed a statue carved from salt. I counted fourteen, all lit from within, each representing a famous vampire from throughout history.
“Isn’t that Bruce Lee?” asked Lena, pointing to one of the statues.
I nodded. “He was turned in seventy-three, after collapsing in his home. When the doctors at the hospital couldn’t revive him, a vampire intervened, hoping to preserve Lee’s knowledge and experience. The last I heard, he was living in Taiwan. He’s got an underground vampire dojo and everything. That is one vampire you do not want to try to stake.”
A throne of salt crystal inlaid with gold sat on a high dais at the far end of the hall. I checked the balconies to either side, but we appeared to be alone.
And then we weren’t. A shadow in the shape of a black jaguar melted from the wall. As it approached the throne, it stretched gracefully into the form of an elderly woman. She settled onto the throne and gave Kyle a barely perceptible nod.
Kyle dropped to one knee. “Mistress Granach, this is Isaac Vainio, libriomancer of Die Zwelf Portenære, and his companion Lena Greenwood.”
“Dryad,” added Lena. “And mate of Nidhi Shah.”
I did my best to ignore the way those words burrowed into my chest, concentrating instead on remembering everything I had read about Alice Granach. She had been born in the middle of the nineteenth century. She had been turned during the Great Depression, and was supposed to be a wickedly clever accountant. For the past sixty years, she had served as one of the four ruling vampires of the Detroit nest.
She was beautiful for her age. Her white hair was cut short, and faint wrinkles lined her eyes and mouth, giving the impression of wisdom and character. She moved with a relaxed grace, settling back in the throne while studying us each in turn.
Granach had been around long enough to trade the dark trappings of the undead lifestyle for something more comfortable. She wore a University of Michigan sweatshirt and black jeans. Her feet were bare. Rimless glasses perched low on her nose.
“Sanguinarius LeFanus,” I whispered. According to our reports, Granach was one of the only surviving vampires from that line, started back in 1872 with the publication of Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu’s story, Carmilla.
Movement in the balconies caught my eye, and Smudge burst into low flame. I tucked my jacket back behind his cage automatically, then counted the guards who now watched us from above: five to the right, and another half dozen to the left.
Granach leaned back, crossing her ankles. “Doctor Shah suggested you might find your way here.”
It was the absolute worst thing she could have said. I grabbed Lena’s arm, but she jerked free with ease. I saw automatic rifles being readied from the balconies. Smudge flared higher, his flames licking the top of his cage. “Lena . . .”
“What did you do to her?” Lena demanded.
“We took Shah in response to the attacks against us,” Granach said. “She was targeted because I believed her insight into the Porters would give us the means to protect ourselves against you. She proved quite cooperative . . . eventually.”
Lena leaped forward. She was halfway to the throne when bullets cratered the ground in front of her. She jumped sideways, rolling low to try to avoid the gunfire.
“We didn’t attack you!” I rushed after Lena, hands held high. My ears rang, making my words sound hollow. “Lena, they’ll kill us both.” The guards had stopped shooting, but they stood ready to rip us apart in their crossfire.
Lena didn’t move. I turned to Granach. “I know someone has been kidnapping your people. They’re using vampires to murder Porters. I’ve fought two such vampires so far. Kyle was there for the second attack.”
“He killed Mister Puddles,” Kyle added.
“Yes, we know. He was controlled by strange magic.” Granach smiled. “Tell me, Isaac, how is such magic any different from what you’ve used? My guards generally don’t escort humans into the throne room, particularly Porters. Yet as I watched your progress, I saw one vampire after another go out of their way to help you.”
“Wait, what?” Kyle sounded pissed. “What do you mean?”
“I used magic to keep you all from killing me,” I admitted. There was only so much the love magnet could handle, and I suspected I was reaching its limits. “I didn’t enslave anyone. You think Kyle would be getting ready to rip out my throat if I could truly control him?”
“What I think, Isaac, is that you’re caught up in something you don’t understand.” Granach descended the dais, graceful as a dancer. “Doctor Shah’s notes told us a great deal about you, as did your friend Deb. You know nothing more of your master’s plans and purposes than a private in the mud of the trenches knows of his general’s.”
“I know you turned a libriomancer,” I said carefully, doing my best to match Granach’s calm. “I know your pets attacked me at my library.”
She inclined her head. “We sought information about our enemies. There has been disagreement over how best to respond to this new threat. Some argue that now is the chance to strike, to reveal ourselves and take our place as the superior race.”
“Good luck with that,” I said. “Have you taken a good look at the toys the military are playing with these days? Forget wooden stakes and garlic. You’ll never even see the drone that takes you out. But we didn’t come here to fight you.”
“Speak for yourself,” Lena said softly.
“Deb argued as you do. Rather convincingly, I might add. You should thank her for that.” Granach folded her arms, staring down at me in a way that made me feel like a child in the principal’s office. “If you hope to leave this place alive, prove your sincerity. Tell me what has happened to Johannes Gutenberg.”
Oh, crap. Deb would have told them about the disappearance of Gutenberg and the automatons. “He’s alive, and we believe he’s still human. The Porters are searching for him.”
“You have suspicions.” Granach moved within arm’s reach, and I felt Lena tense. Granach smiled, revealing too-perfect teeth as she circled us. “You’r
e uncertain. Conflicted. Tell me, Isaac, what is it you fear?”
There was no pain in my head. She couldn’t touch my thoughts. But this was someone with centuries of practice at reading people. My tone, my body language, probably even my scent.
“You’re hiding something,” she continued. “Tell me the truth about your master, and I’ll consider helping you.”
I didn’t want to believe Gutenberg could be behind this, but the evidence suggested otherwise. The voice in the steam tunnels. The disappearance of the automatons. The theft of locked books.
If Gutenberg had turned against the Porters, then I needed all the help I could get. And if the Porters refused to accept Gutenberg’s betrayal . . .
“I think the Porters are wrong,” I said slowly. “I believe Gutenberg may be involved with these attacks. I don’t yet know how or why.”
“Doctor Shah came to the same conclusion,” Granach said lightly. “Like you, she believes the Porters as a whole are not behind this, and that the attacks are the work of a single individual.”
“You said ‘believes.’” Lena swallowed. “Is Nidhi . . . did you kill her?”
Granach paused, her brow wrinkling. She tilted her head as if listening to a silent voice. “Follow me.”
Neither of us moved. “I answered your question,” I said. “It’s your turn. Tell us about Doctor Shah and the disappearances among your people.”
“I can do better than that,” she said. “We’ve captured three of these enslaved vampires, each with the cross-shaped pupils Kyle described.”
“When did he tell you—?” Telepaths. Right. I wondered what else he had filled them in on while we were standing here.
“The first two burned to ash before we could question them,” she continued. “The third is being held below. She’s answered none of our questions, but perhaps you and your magic will have better luck.”
“How did you keep her alive?”
“You’ll see.”
Two guards materialized to either side of us. Granach cleared her throat and gave me a pointed look. I reluctantly pulled out the love magnet and handed it over. One of the guards poked at Smudge in his cage.
“He stays with me,” I said before they could ask. “I’ll keep him in his cage. If you’re afraid of a little spider, then you’ve got bigger problems than us.”
“What about Nidhi?” Lena demanded.
“She’s been working with our prisoner,” said Granach. “She’s provided some insight, but not enough to crack the mind behind this.”
“What did you do to her?” Lena stepped toward Granach. I checked the guards and braced myself. I had no idea who would win in a fight between Lena and Granach, but we’d never make it back to the surface.
Granach merely smiled. “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?”
Chapter 11
THE SECURITY ON THE NEXT ELEVATOR was even tighter than the last. Airport checkpoints could have learned a lot from the undead. There was a full-body scanner, a metal detector, and a hunchbacked vampire with a chemical-sensing wand that kept going off when he brought it too close to Smudge. As for the doors, the lock required a drop of Alice Granach’s blood before it opened to admit us.
Lena clutched my hand hard enough to bruise as we sank deeper into the earth. I had watched this woman take out sparklers and stand up to one of the ruling vampires of Detroit. Until this moment, I had never seen her look afraid. Her lips were tight, and her heart was beating so hard I could see her pulse in her throat. Her breathing was quick and shallow, and her brown eyes were wide.
“I’m right here,” I whispered.
She glanced down and relaxed her grip. “Sorry.”
Alice Granach watched us both, and I had no doubt she was analyzing every twitch we made. She probably knew Lena better than I did, thanks to Doctor Shah. The thought made me momentarily jealous.
Kyle had accompanied us as well, but he refused to look at me, standing sullenly in one corner with his arms folded.
“If I start to . . .” Lena’s voice trailed off.
“I’ll do what I can.” Whatever monstrous path Granach had led Doctor Shah down, I had to keep Lena from following.
The doors opened into a cramped corridor, barely wide enough for two to walk abreast. The ceiling was so low I could touch it without straightening my arm.
“This way.” Granach led us past thick Plexiglass doors built into either side of the white-painted hallway. In one room, a young boy sat huddled in the far corner. “The doors are thick enough to withstand even our strength. Should one ever break, it would trigger an array of ultraviolet lasers strong enough to vaporize flesh. Each cell is also airtight, a necessity when some of your prisoners can dissolve into mist.”
I peered more closely at the rubber-sealed edges. A smaller, similarly-sealed metal square was built into the wall to the right of each door, like miniature air locks. “Who are these people?”
“Anyone too dangerous to roam freely through our home who, for whatever reason, we’ve chosen not to eliminate. Yet.” Granach pointed to a middle-aged woman in another cell. “She tried to feed on her own kind, hoping to absorb their powers. We’d have destroyed her on the spot, except it seems to have worked. We’re studying her blood to learn why. The boy we just passed was conspiring with a vampire hunter from the Catholic Church, hoping for redemption. He lives until we know exactly how many people he told of our existence. Naturally, this hasn’t made him terribly cooperative.”
“What about him?” I asked, pointing to a skinny black-haired vampire sleeping on a stone-carved bench.
“He hacked our servers. I lost four years’ worth of e-mail.”
We turned right, and Lena froze. Up ahead, a single figure sat in a wooden chair in front of another cell, talking to someone within. A tall, broad-shouldered man with a gun stood guard behind her. The dim lighting made it hard to discern any details, but I heard Lena’s slow, indrawn breath. She took a single step, then spun around and grabbed my shoulders.
“Whatever they did, there will be consequences,” I promised, pulling her close. “We’ll find a way.”
“I know.” Her hand slid up my neck, into my hair. She kissed me once, inhaled deeply, then turned to face Nidhi Shah.
Shah rose from the chair and stepped toward us. Even from here I could see her confusion and disbelief. She halted in midstep when the guard behind her readied his gun.
“It’s all right,” said Granach. “Isaac is a Porter. He and his friend Lena have come to lend us their expertise.”
“Lena? How . . .?” Shah looked exhausted. Behind the rectangular lenses of her glasses, her eyes were shadowed. Her lower lip was swollen and bruised. Her clothes were filthy. The embroidered collar of her blue shirt was low enough to see her neck. The exposed skin was undamaged, and her shirt was free of bloodstains. “What are you doing here, love?”
Lena whirled toward Granach, her eyes wide with disbelief.
“Yes, she’s human,” Granach said, sounding amused. “Once she understood the threat we faced, she cooperated willingly. It’s for the best, as this leaves her mind intact.”
Shah gave us a tentative smile, revealing the slight gap between her front teeth that I remembered from our sessions. Her hair hung about her face in dirty wisps, and I could just make out the faint blue tattoo on her left temple, a series of Gujarati characters that meant balance.
Lena pulled away from me. I glanced at Smudge, who continued to glow like a coal, but he didn’t noticeably react to Shah’s presence. “I think she’s telling the truth.”
Lena ran down the hall, wrapped her arms around Doctor Shah, and kissed her hard. For her part, Doctor Shah returned the embrace with enthusiasm.
“So nice to see young lovers reunited,” Granach purred, her cold breath tickling my neck. I hadn’t even heard her approach. She was smiling, not at Lena and Doctor Shah, but at me, as if she was the one who had jabbed a knife into my chest and twisted.
I did my best to
swallow the jealousy and forced a smile of my own. “I’ve never met a vampire with dentures before. What kind of cream do you use to keep them in?”
“You have a good eye,” she said, but the amusement was gone from her voice. “These are specially designed. Would you like to see?” Her smile tightened, and tiny triangular blades slid from the canine teeth.
“Don’t tease her, Isaac,” said Shah. “Alice doesn’t take well to challenges.”
“Isaac.” Lena stared at me, her mouth round with confusion. She kept a possessive arm around Shah’s waist. I had the feeling she had completely forgotten my presence until Shah mentioned my name.
Doctor Shah looked from Lena to me and back. “I see.”
“I thought you were—” Lena began.
“I understand.” Shah was breathing hard, and her face was darker than usual. She wiped her brow and studied me more closely. “You’ve been overdoing your magic again, Isaac.”
There was the calm, clinically detached tone I remembered from the last time I walked out of her office. “I haven’t had much of a choice.”
Granach let out a melodramatic sigh. “Perhaps you could sort out your tangled little human emotions at a later time? I believe Isaac was going to try to help us find a rogue libriomancer.”
“She thinks Gutenberg is behind this,” said Shah.
“What do you think?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I’ve learned my way around Porter minds, but Gutenberg is a breed apart. The only thing I know for certain is that I don’t know or understand what goes on in that man’s head.”
Granach gestured toward the glass door. Lena didn’t meet my eyes as I stepped past her to examine the prisoner inside.
The woman in the cell was short and slender. Her skin had a strange blue-gray pallor. She wore green hospital scrubs covered in bloodstains, especially at the waist. Heavy scars covered her wrists, as if they had been repeatedly clawed open. Her fingernails were glassy with a bluish tinge, and there were faint lesions on her skin.