“Doesn’t that put you at odds with your father?” she asked.
“First off, you’re not in a position to talk about daddy issues,” he teased, a smirk lighting his face. “Second, he’s not my father, even though that’s pack terminology for him. He’s just the wolf who bit me.”
Mia raised an eyebrow. “So the Draugr wasn’t lying?”
“No.”
“Interesting.”
The door to the cafe opened, and a serious-looking woman entered, dressed in cargo shorts and a plain white T-shirt. She was tiny and elfin, with dark hair pulled back into a severe bun. There was a camera around her neck, and she was fiddling with her cell phone. She walked directly to their table.
“Naomi?” he greeted.
“Dominic.” They shook hands, and she sat at their table. She eyed Mia.
“This is Mia,” he introduced. “She doesn’t speak French.”
The woman sighed and responded in English. “What you’re asking isn’t simple. If the gendarmes see us going into the catacombs, we’ll be arrested.”
“That’s why I called you. You can get us in discreetly, and you can guide us.”
Naomi sat back and scratched at a scab on her knee. “I can get you in, for a price,” she said.
Mia leaned forward. “What price?”
“Euros,” she said simply. “You might say that I’m a material girl.”
“I have Euros,” Dominic said. To Mia, it smelled like a lie, but she kept silent. “How much do you need?”
“To get you in? Five thousand.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Do you want to get in or don’t you?”
Dominic sat back. “I don’t want to get in that badly.”
Naomi snorted. “Don’t you?”
Mia interceded. “One thousand to get us in. Five thousand if you guide us.”
Dominic glared as his companion. “For God’s sake…”
The cataphile examined Mia in silence, then asked, “Where do you want to be guided to? Just on a jaunt to get a little scare into your cute little bones?”
“I want you to guide us to a safe place in the catacombs, where we won’t be discovered and where we can lie low for a while,” Mia answered evenly, not rising to the bait.
“Lie low? You in some kind of legal trouble?”
Dominic said, “Let’s just say there are some people we’d like to avoid.”
She thought about the offer for a moment, then said, “One thousand to get you in, five thousand to hide you, five thousand to bring you back out.”
Dominic scoffed. “Eleven thousand euros? Are you out of your mind?”
“I must be, if I’m letting you get me involved in whatever trouble you’re having. I don’t need any drug cartels or human traffickers breathing down my neck.”
Mia considered telling her that traffickers and drug dealers were the least of her worries, but she decided against it. She sighed. “Fine.”
“Up front.”
“No,” Dominic said. “Six thousand up front, the last five when you bring us back out. I’m not stupid.”
Naomi smirked. “That remains to be seen. Fine. Meet me outside this cafe at midnight. I’ll take you then. Make sure you have the cash, or the deal is off.”
She and the Ulfen shook on it, and then Naomi walked back out of the cafe. When she was gone, Mia turned to him. “And where do you think you’re going to get eleven thousand euros?”
“You’re the one who upped the ante.” He held up the credit card he had used to pay for their snack. “But as for the money, Mr. Mills will help us with that.”
“You’re a thief!”
“I’m inventive and I have a strong survival instinct,” he defended. “Come on… let’s go get ready. We need supplies.”
Chapter Four
Erik and Nika returned to Snake Eyes after their long lunch, although neither of them was really that enthused about going back. The sun was angling lower on the horizon, casting long shadows across the paved square in front of the club. The Draugr population in the bar was swelling, and it would just keep getting bigger as the night drew closer.
The ward on the door throbbed as soon as Erik put his hand on the handle, and he looked at Nika with a sheepish smile. “I wonder if we should get that taken off,” he said.
“No way,” she objected. “I like feeling when you walk in, and it gives the young ones a thrill. It also makes any trouble makers shape up before they cause too many problems.”
“You’re a young one,” he teased. “Does it thrill you when I touch the door?”
She kissed him. “Ask me again when we get home and I’ll show you.”
He held the door for her and watched the sway of her hips as she walked in ahead of him. “That thought won’t be distracting at all.”
She laughed and threw him a bright smile over her shoulder. He followed her closely, his hand on the small of her back.
There were no mortals in the club yet, no goth thrill seekers, no Draugr pets. The usual barflies were sitting on their stools, glasses of dreyri in their hands, sipping the enchanted blood and jockeying for position. All eyes had turned toward the door when the ward jangled, and they all stared as their king, the first king many of them had ever known in their vampire lives, made his way into the room.
Nika took his hand, and the runes on her forearms tingled. She frowned and glanced down at them, seeing a slight sparkle in the lines on her skin. Erik saw the look on her face. “What is it?”
“Strange,” she said. “I’ve never felt that before.”
“Felt what?”
“My runes.” She showed him her forearm. “Do you see it?”
He looked, but it was clear that he saw nothing out of the ordinary, even though she still saw magic coursing over the lines of Perthro and Sowilo. “I guess whatever you’re seeing is for Valtaeigr eyes only,” he said.
“I guess so.” She rubbed her hand over her bare arm, and the prickly sensation subsided. “Weird.”
“Maybe we could ask Ingrid about that.”
“Maybe…”
He sat in a corner booth, choosing to stay among his people instead of going back to the drudgery of accounting in the office. Nika sat beside him, her legs curled up onto the seat, and when he put his arm around her, she leaned into his broad chest. A waitress came to the table, a young Draugr who had been turned only a few months ago.
“Sami,” Erik greeted. “Top shelf dreyri for me and my queen.”
The girl smiled. “Coming right up, sir.”
Nika rested her hand on his shoulder and looked into his eyes. “Top shelf? Are we celebrating?”
He smiled. “Every day we are together is a celebration.”
She kissed him. “You’re corny as hell, but it’s adorable.”
“Thank you, I think.”
The door opened, and instead of the low, throbbing hum that accompanied Erik’s touch, there was a sharp feeling like being jabbed in the ribs. All of the Draugr reacted to it, and Erik immediately slid out of the booth to face the newcomer.
A large man with shaggy dark hair and a muddy overcoat stood in the doorway, looking around with an unreadable expression on his bearded face. He was no Draugr, but he was cloaked in power. Nika’s arms tingled again, and she rose to stand at Erik’s side.
The man’s eyes locked onto Erik’s, and he strode across the room. The assembled Draugr gave him space, letting him cross unimpeded and watching to see what he would do. When he got up to the vampire king, he extended a hand.
“Huntsman,” he said, his voice heavily accented.
Erik accepted the handshake. “You have me at a disadvantage.”
“Call me Vladimir. I am here from Leningrad.”
“They call it St. Petersburg now,” the vampire told him. “I think you’ve just dated yourself.”
“Perhaps I have. The Soviet days...they weren’t so bad.”
He had been with the SOG during the Cold War, and Ni
ka knew that his views of the Soviet Union were very different. He crossed his arms and kept his opinion to himself. “What can I do for you, Vladimir?”
“I am a tracker,” he said. “I come to offer my services to you to find the Dark Sisterhood.”
“That’s not all you are,” Nika said. She could feel magic clinging to him like road dust.
“No,” Vladimir admitted. “I am a witch.”
Erik nodded. “Come into my office.”
He turned and walked away, showing his back in full view of his people, his open body language stating plainly that he had no fear of this newcomer. It was a display, but it was effective. The watching vampires relaxed. Vladimir followed him, and Nika brought up the rear, not more than arm’s length away from the Russian witch.
Once they were in the office, Erik sat behind the desk and gestured to one of the guest chairs, which Vladimir occupied by dropping heavily into the seat. Nika closed the door, then went to stand at her man’s side.
“Now, why would you come all the way to Sweden from Russia?” Erik asked. “And what makes you think I can’t find the Dark Sisters on my own?”
The Russian smiled. “I think you would have her already if you could.”
“You’re talking about Mia,” Nika said.
“Yes.”
Erik sat back. “I know where she is. I can have her retrieved in a heartbeat if I wish it.” It was a lie, and both he and Nika knew it, but there was no way that Vladimir could have known.
“So why is she not here?” the man asked.
“Have you ever been a father?”
Vladimir shook his head. “No.”
“Sometimes you have to let your children run a little bit, make some mistakes, before you come to their rescue.”
“She’s not running to be free,” he objected. “She’s running to hide.”
“What’s your interest in this?” Nika asked.
The man looked up at her, his dark eyes flat and almost expressionless, like a doll’s eyes that had been painted on. “All of the other Dark Sisters are dead,” he said. He turned his face back to Erik and grinned like a piranha. “I killed them, all but your former slave and your daughter.”
Erik looked unimpressed. Nika admired his ability to keep his cool. “You killed them,” she said. The man nodded proudly. “Why?”
“They were responsible for many pains to my people,” he said.
“And who are your people?”
He smiled. “I told you already. I am a witch.”
Erik raised an eyebrow. “And?”
Nika said, “The Dark Sisters and the witches have a rivalry. If you are a male witch, then you’re defending your coven. Am I right?”
“Smart and beautiful,” Vladimir nodded, his eyes shining as he looked at her.
“And taken,” Erik pointed out.
Vladimir raised his hands in a gesture of harmlessness. “I wouldn’t presume to try anything with your Valtaeigr, Huntsman.”
“Good. Then you’re smarter than you look.”
Nika sighed. The posturing was flattering, but this was not the time or the place for Erik to revert to his Viking ways. “How would you track her, and what would you do with her when you find her?”
Erik’s icy gaze was locked on Vladimir’s face. “He’s not going to be tracking her, so the question is irrelevant.”
The Russian witch grinned. “If you insist.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business car. “If you change your mind, this is how to reach me.”
Erik made no move to accept the card, so Nika came forward and took it from his outstretched hand. Magic sparked from him into her fingertips, electric blue and snapping like a live wire. She jerked back, and Erik lunged out of his chair.
Vladimir grinned. “Sorry. Static.”
“That was no static.” The Huntsman surged forward, fury in his eyes. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing! Nothing, I swear! It was… she is powerful, no? We touched fingers and my power combined with her power and it was just a spark. One spark. No harm, okay?”
Nika put her hand on Erik’s powerful chest and held him back. “It’s okay. I’m not hurt.”
He clearly wanted to rip off Vladimir’s arm and beat him with it, but he stilled and reined in his anger. She turned to the Russian witch. “Thank you for your offer of help. How long will you be in Stockholm?”
“Another week, at least. I have business here.”
Erik asked, “What sort of business?”
Vladimir smiled and stood. “Things that do not concern the King of the Draugr.” He backed up a step. “I’ll show myself out.”
Nika kept her hand on Erik’s chest until the witch was out of the office and the door was safely closed behind him. He took a deep breath and blew it out. “I don’t like him.”
She chuckled. “I noticed.”
He took her fingertips and kissed them. “Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine. I was just surprised.” She smiled for him, then glanced at the door, which still shone with magic that formed the faint outline of the Russian’s body. She would not have been surprised to learn that he was wearing some sort of active enchantment.
Erik saw where she was looking, and he shook his head. “I don’t trust him. He will bear watching.”
“By whom?” she asked. “Who can you trust that much?”
He looked away, his troubles showing on his handsome face. “I don’t know.”
***
In Paris, Dominic used three different stolen credit cards and a raft of travelers’ checks that had come from who knew where to purchase two sleeping bags, two backpacks, a Coleman stove, food and a change of clothes for both of them. They both loaded their backpacks and shrugged the straps over their shoulders.
“So how are we supposed to come up with the fee she’s going to charge?” Mia asked.
“I kind of wish you’d thought of that before you got excited with negotiating,” he said sourly, “but I have a plan.”
She followed him as he went to Deutsche Bank, walking in as if he owned the place. His confidence belied his scruffy exterior, and she found that the guards let him pass without a second glance. She hurried to stay with him.
He went to a teller and began speaking in fluent French. As she listened to the bank employee replying, she recognized that Dominic’s accent was slightly different, and she thought she knew why. She kept her conjecturing to herself while he produced a Canadian passport with his actual picture inside, showing him younger, cleaner and better groomed. The teller handed him a signature card, then left to confer with her manager.
“French Canadian,” Mia said when they were alone. “Am I right? You’re from Montreal.”
“Quebec City, actually,” he said. “My pack leader is a wealthy man with an account here. I don’t know if he still has money in it, but we’re about to find out.”
There was a strange bitterness in his voice, and Mia cocked her head slightly, considering him. She whispered a few words of magic and reached out toward his mind, but he gave her a warning glare and blocked her out. She gave him her brightest smile.
“Sorry. Just curious.”
“Well, stop. That’s rude.”
The teller returned with a large stack of cash, and after some more discussion, she allowed him to sign another document and handed him the money in two thick envelopes. He nodded to her and took Mia’s elbow.
“Let’s go,” he said, glancing up at the surveillance cameras over the doors.
They returned to the street, and she asked excitedly, “Did you get all of it?”
“And then some.” He folded the envelopes and tucked them into his waistband, over his stomach and under his shirt. “We’ll be able to get anywhere you want to go once we get out of Paris. For now, let’s go find Naomi and get down to the Catacombs before the vampires start wandering.”
They went back to the cafe and waited on the sidewalk for the cataphile to appear. She finally showe
d up an hour later, walking quickly and glancing over her shoulder.
“Do you have it?” she asked without preamble as soon as she reached them. Dominic nodded, and she said distrustfully, “All six thousand?”
“As promised,” he said. He handed her one of the envelopes, warm from its hiding place inside his clothing.
Naomi accepted with her lip curled in distaste. She counted the money, then said, “All right. Follow me.”
She led them through the back alleys and side streets, constantly on guard. Dominic and Mia followed, and her anxiety was contagious. Mia found herself looking up at the roofs of the buildings they passed, watching for Draugr among the chimneys. Once she thought she saw something move, but when she looked more closely, it was gone.
“Hurry up,” Naomi coached, leading them through a wooden door in the back of a bakery. She closed and locked it once they were inside.
There was a single electric bulb hanging by a wire, and she turned it on with a pull chain. The yellow light it cast was weak, barely illuminating the square of floor beneath it and doing nothing to chase away the shadows in the corners. Their cataphile guide crouched and dug her fingers into the wooden planks on the floor, pulling several away and exposing a stone slab set with an iron handle.
She crouched over the heavy stone and pulled it aside with difficulty. Dominic leaned down and grasped the edge of the stone with one hand, moving it easily out of the way. She gaped at him in surprise for a moment, but then her expression changed to one of wary distrust.
“After you,” he said.
Naomi dropped down through the opening, and Mia and Dominic followed. They found themselves in a dank tunnel that smelled of mildew and rot. The cataphile pulled a flashlight out of her pocket, and Mia retrieved her flashlight from her backpack.
Their guide led them farther into the subterranean recesses beneath Paris, going down a long spiral staircase of rusted metal. Finally, they turned a corner and came face to face with stacks of human bones. Mia could sense the rustling of unrested spirits, and she summoned a protection rune that she hid in her palm. Dominic sniffed the air.
“The scent is thick,” he said. “They won’t find us down here.”
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