by B N Miles
“Do you mind if I sit?” she asked.
“Of course,” Jared said, and Nikita slipped into the booth next to Cassie. As she sat, her eyes locked with Jared and he felt her aura slip over his skin.
He took a sharp breath and his eyes went wide. It felt like the sun, pure and intense, burning his skin. He felt screaming in his ears, both in fear and in pleasure, a strange mixture of light and horror.
It quickly pulled away, leaving his body trembling. She smirked at him and tilted her head.
Cassie leaned toward Nikita. “Thank you for having us here,” she said. “Is this your diner?”
“Oh, yes,” Nikita said. “One of several places I like to use. Do you like it?”
“It seems nice. How are the pancakes?”
Jared winced but Nikita laughed. “They’re lovely.” She turned to Jared. “I have to admit, I wasn’t expecting more company,” she said.
“I’m sorry, Underlord Nikita. Cassie and Jessalene are my partners. They’re very involved in the investigation.”
“First, please, call me Nikki,” she said. “That whole Underlord thing is so formal. And second, what do you mean by partners?” She arched an eyebrow, a little smile on her lips.
“Girlfriends,” Cassie said. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Ah.” Her smile got bigger. “You Magi and your harems.”
Jared winced. “That’s not what this is.”
“No? Pity. I was in a Magi harem once, a couple hundred years ago. God, he was incredible. And his blood tasted like candy, especially after touching his priori. Every time I fed from him, I got this jolt of electricity. It was incredible, almost as good as fucking him.”
Jared shifted in his seat under Nikki’s gaze. She was staring at him like he’d be a delicious treat, or some kind of prize.
“We like to think of this as just a relationship with more than one partner,” Jessalene said.
“Of course.” Nikki smiled and bowed her head. “I apologize if I suggested something rude. Now Jared, if you don’t mind, could I ask you something?”
“Yes, anything,” he said.
“Are you close with your family?”
He frowned for a moment. “No,” he said. “I’m not.”
“Ah.” She let out a breath. “I didn’t think so. I’ve never heard of you before in particular, so I figured there was something odd going on.”
“When did you take over the city?” Cassie asked, like it was a normal question.
Nikita smiled at her. “Six years ago,” she said. “Which might sound like a lot, but most Underlords control their territory for fifty, sixty years before moving on. Before this city, I was assigned to a large town up north. But something happened to the former Underlord here and I just… slipped into his skin, so to speak.” She smiled broadly, and Jared got the feeling that whatever happened to the last Underlord was very much her doing.
“I stepped away from my family around the time you came here, as it happens,” Jared said.
“Interesting. You don’t hear about that often, though you Magi are almost as closed-lipped as we are.” She laughed again. “So tell me Jared, what are you here for?”
“I’m looking for a Vampire,” he said quickly. “Goes by the name Arman Kozlov. Owns a pawnshop.”
“I know the one,” she said, nodding. “Sure, surly man, doesn’t like me one bit. I made him bend the knee and he still resents me for it.”
Jared felt a surge of hope. “He owes you fealty? Sam didn’t think so.”
“Every Vampire in this city owes me fealty,” she said with a laugh. “That’s how it works. But just because they owe me fealty, doesn’t mean we have a good relationship. Sam is good at what he does, but he doesn’t know everything.” She gave Cassie a look and winked, and Cassie just smiled.
He felt thrown off his game, but he refused to let her shake him. She acted like a spoiled rich girl, not the head of a powerful Vampire organization.
“We’re looking for him,” Jared said then glanced at Cassie.
“And we were hoping you could help us,” she finished for him.
“Ah.” Nikita sat back. “Huh. And is this an official request from the MetaDept?” she asked.
Jared shook his head. “No, uh, Nikki. It’s not.”
“So then this is coming from Jared Bechtel the Magi, and not Jared Bechtel the Marshal?”
He nodded once. “And Cassie. And Jessalene. We’re all in this together.”
“Of course.” She smiled at them. “This is perfect, as it happens. Jared, do you have any clue how annoying your family has been lately?”
He sat back in his seat and felt a chill run through him. “What did they do?” he asked.
“Don’t worry. You don’t need to be afraid.” She laughed and made a face. “I’m not going to rip you apart or something nasty. No, I just want you to go talk to your family and tell them to stop harassing a few of my people. That’s all, no big deal. You do that, and I’ll give you Arman.”
Jessalene sat forward. “You know where he is?”
Nikita’s eyes flashed to Jessalene. “Of course I do,” she said.
“Tell us.” Jessalene was tense but then quickly remembered herself. “Please.”
Nikita smiled. “First, Jared does me this favor. Then I’ll help you all. That’s how these things work, darling.”
Jessalene gripped the table and Jared had to put a hand on her thigh to keep her from doing something stupid.
This was a game to Nikita. He could see it all over her. She was enjoying this, toying with them, asking for a favor that she knew would make him uncomfortable. He doubted she really even cared about his family harassing some Vampires, but she was smart enough to see that it would bother him. If Jessalene pushed, he knew Nikita wouldn’t hesitate to take it out on her, or worse, on her clan.
“I’ll do it,” Jared said. “But I just want to warn you. I’m not on the best terms with them, and I can’t promise they’ll listen.”
“Oh good.” She clapped her hands once with a smile. “And when you’re done, I’ll let you have that pesky Arman.” She beamed. “Well, this has been great. I’ll have your friend Sam send you the details of what I want. Really, it’s been a pleasure.” She slipped from the booth and lingered at the head of the table. “And Jared. If you’re ever looking to add another woman to your harem, I’m game. Your girlfriends are hot and I bet your blood tastes like heaven.” She grinned, flashing her fangs at them. “Bye, have a good night.”
She turned and walked off. Jared stared at her body, dumbfounded, before Jessalene let out a harsh breath. “We better go,” she whispered.
The other tables were staring at them. The girls on their phones were glaring, not moving a muscle. The couple was turned around and staring, eyes hard. One of them flashed his fangs.
“Guess she had bodyguards the whole time,” Cassie mumbled as they got out of the booth. They walked across the room and the other people in the diner kept staring. Jared let the girls leave first before slipping out behind them.
His heart was racing as he took deep breaths. That woman was terrifying. He could almost feel her power across the table, and when her aura touched him, it was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before.
The idea of going to his family to ask for a favor for a Vampire Underlord made him sick. But he knew there was no other path here. If she wanted him to talk to his family, he was going to talk to his family.
Or else they’d never find Arman, and never be able to stop the Medlar from buying Jessalene’s land.
“Come on,” he said, heading to the car. “Let’s go home.”
“Jared—” Cassie started, but he shook his head.
“Tonight, let’s forget all about this.”
Jessalene came up next to him and put her arm through his. “Sounds good to me.”
“Tomorrow, I’m calling my family.”
The words felt like lead in his throat.
21
The Bechtel family home sat on a quiet, shaded street in Old City. From the outside, it looked like any other city block, with the exception of the trees and the black wrought iron fence that circled the building. It was a brownstone building, unlike the common brick in the rest of the city. It loomed up above the block, dark and foreboding, with multiple black-framed windows staring out at the street. Jared realized he should’ve felt like he was coming home.
Instead, he felt nothing but dread.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Cassie asked him as they lingered on the sidewalk. Jessalene crossed her arms and sat on the hood of the car.
“I think I have to,” Jared said. “You heard Nikki back there. I do her this favor, she gives us Arman.”
“We can find him some other way.” Cassie frowned and stepped forward. She put her hand on Jared’s arm. “You don’t have to go back to them.”
He took a breath but shook his head. He appreciated her trying to talk him out of this, but he knew he had to keep moving forward.
Jessalene’s eyes were dark and shaded. She frowned at him, saying nothing. He looked back at her. Part of him wanted her to beg him not to go in there, but he knew she wouldn’t. She wanted this more than Cassie did, since it affected her directly. This was her family, her clan he was trying to protect, and all he had to go was go home and ask for a favor.
He couldn’t deny her that.
“If I’m not back out in a couple hours,” he said, “go home and call Wyatt.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Exactly what I just said.”
“We’re not coming with you?” Cassie asked.
“No.” Jared shook his head. “I’m sorry. I have to do this on my own.”
Before she could argue, he walked along the fence until he reached a gate with a small rectangular keypad. He entered a series of numbers, surprised he still knew them so well, and the gate unlocked. With a quick glance back at the girls, he moved past the black wrought iron entrance and up the short concrete walkway to the large double front doors.
They were heavy wood, painted black, with half-moons for windows hanging at the top, and warded so deep it almost made his eyes water. Generations of Bechtels have added their mark to this door and the building in general, warding it so tight that nothing less than a God or an entire Meta army could break through. The wards shimmered in the light, playing tricks with his eyes, and appearing only when he turned his head just so. They were like floaters in his vision, warps and errors in his visual field, and they gave him a headache if he stared at them for too long. Jared reached out for the hammer-shaped knocker and banged it against the door, then stepped back to wait.
Several moments passed before something inside clicked and the door opened. A tall, thin man looked out at him with dark hair, dark eyes, and a dark mustache. He was gaunt and pinched, his cheekbones absurdly high, his eyebrows so thin they looked like they were drawn in pencil. He wore a black jacket that stopped at his waist with gold buttons, a high collar, and a white button-down dress shirt beneath it. His black slacks were pressed and crisp, and his black dress shoes sparkled in the sunlight.
The man frowned for a moment, his pale skin nearly sparkling in the afternoon sunlight as he tilted his head a fraction of an inch, a small smile playing across his face.
“Jared?” he asked.
“Hello, Carlo.”
Carlo laughed. It was low and deep and familiar. Jared remembered hearing that laugh throughout his childhood, echoing down the wide and open corridors of his home, chasing him as he ran from whatever misdeed he’d just performed. Carlo never punished him, was never allowed to punish him, but he feared the Imp all the same.
“I’m very surprised you’re here,” he said. “Did you call ahead?”
“I did not.”
“Well. I’m not sure I can let you in.” His smile didn’t waver. “You know, on account of you leaving the family and all. How is the outside world, by the way?”
“It’s good,” Jared said. “I’m still sane and still alive.”
“Yes, well. That’s more than most can say in here.” He chuckled and licked his lips. His thin, dark tail curled up around his waist and pulled back, like it was tasting the air. “Who shall I summon for you?”
“My sister,” he said. “Tell her I want to speak with her.”
“Very well. I believe she’s available.” Carlo grinned at him and laughed again. Jared didn’t hate the Imp, but he’d never felt comfortable around him either. “I have to admit, I’m happy to see you here, and so in control of your mental faculties.”
“Please, Carlo.”
“Of course.” He bowed slightly at the waist, the smile still plastered on his face, before closing the door and walking off.
Jared sighed and leaned against the frame. He closed his eyes, trying to banish the headache that was already beginning to pulse between his eyes. Carlo was the head of the household staff, an Imp much older than any Magi in his household. As far as he could tell, Carlo had been working for the Bechtel family for generations. Like all Imps, he was incredibly dangerous, but he entered into a Magi pact with the Bechtels and served them faithfully.
It was common for Imps to work for Magi families. Jared wasn’t entirely sure why. He knew Imps were powerful Metas, related to Demons but not as unpredictable and insane. They had fire magic, which was useful in a fight, and they were very long-lived. But Jared didn’t know exactly what Imps got from the arrangement, but he could guess, just based on their main food source. He tried not to think about Carlo feeding on human flesh, his sharp teeth tearing the muscle from bone. He’d never seen it, never heard of it, but he knew it had to happen.
From his perspective, the Imp was just there, serving his family faithfully, upholding the magic pact that bound them all together. Carlo had been invisible for most of his life, except for the moments when he became startlingly clear, and those were the moments most etched into Jared’s mind. His laughter chasing him through the house, his eyes peering at him from open doorways, framed by darkness. Carlo’s tail wrapping around his wrist as the Imp licked his lips and gave a spine-curdling smile, like a predator considering a meal.
Carlo returned a few minutes later, opening the door wide. “She will see you now,” he said.
Jared stepped inside, relief mixing with dread.
He hadn’t been in this house since the day he left all those years ago. And he hadn’t so much as spoken to anyone in his family since then.
But out of everyone, his sister would be the most willing to hear him out. She understood him better than anyone else. She understood what it was like to hate magic, to fear for your own sanity, to fear for your future. For a while, he thought she might follow him out, but she never did.
They used to speak of running away as children. He remembered sitting on the wide main staircase with her, passing a magical flame back and forth between them, and talking about what their lives could be if they were normal humans. Or if they could escape to some faraway country where Magi families meant nothing and they could have a normal life. They dreamed together, but it never went further, at least not for her, at least not as far as he could tell.
Carlo led Jared down a series of side halls. Rich carpeting, thick drapery, oil paintings in gilded frames, and beautiful statues lined the spaces they passed, giving the place an air of upper-class luxury. It smelled like cleaning solution and decaying cloth, like mold and bleach. That had been the smell of his childhood, and it brought back years of repressed anxiety. It was just as Jared remembered, and he suspected it was as it always had been, unchanged for hundreds of years, going back to the founding of this city. Despite the way the rooms shifted, the foundation was always the same.
They stopped outside of a simple brown door with a brass handle and little other ornamentation. Jared didn’t recognize it, but that wasn’t too much of a surprise. He’d been gone for so long, and the house was in a constant state of repair and reb
uilding. Magic was dangerous at best, and he could remember all the fires that had been started by his aunts, uncles, and cousins, all the explosions that nearly killed people, and certainly had killed staff. All of it fixed, repaired, rebuilt, swept under the rug. Growing up, the threat of death from a magical experiment was as real as the carpet beneath his feet.
Carlo put his hand on the knob, but didn’t turn it. “I feel as though I should warn you,” he said.
“Warn me?” Jared asked.
“Yes, well. You aren’t a Bechtel anymore, and I’m not bound to keep you safe.” Carlo gave him a vicious, hungry look, and Jared shuddered. “But things have changed since you left.”
“Changed how?” he asked.
“Your sister is different. She married, had children. A boy and a girl, actually. You’d like them, very cute.” He smiled, licked his lips, and his tail whisked through the air.
“She had kids,” he said, his voice low, a note of surprise in his tone.
“That’s right. And married.” Carlo gave him a look. “You’ve been gone a long time, at least to a human. A lot has changed.”
“Thank you for the warning,” he said.
Carlo shrugged, opened the door, and stepped aside.
Jared walked into a wide, open space, dominated by a piano. Light filtered in from windows high up near the ceiling, casting long rays down to the light brown hardwood floor. It was smooth and polished, almost like a stage or a dance floor. The walls were white and devoid of ornamentation. There was no other door in or out. There was only the piano and a woman sitting at the bench.
She stared at the keys, not playing, just resting her fingers on the ivory. She looked over when Jared entered the room. Her eyes looked dull, but a smile curled at her thin lips. Bags hung under her big, brown eyes. The door closed behind him and he thought he heard Carlo lock it from the outside.
“Hello, Sophie,” Jared said.
She turned around on the bench and sat with her back straight, her palms flat on her knees.