by Faith Hunter
“You can ask them yourselves if you wish,” Brandon said. “Malita Del Omo and Soledad Martinez are two of the more ancient Mithrans in the Americas. Both of them studied black magic a century ago, and they now live on an estate near Breaux Bridge. But I’ll warn you. Though they looked fine the last time I saw them and have maintained their physical regeneration, both are mentally”—he hesitated—“unstable. They have lived mostly alone for over a hundred years.”
“I could use a break,” I said.
“I’ll text you their address. I suggest you take the helo. It isn’t far by air, but the drive will take quite some time.” The call ended.
Eli’s cell vibrated and he said, “The address isn’t far as the crow flies, but Brandon’s right. You’d have to go around the swamp. Helo will be faster. It arrived from Asheville sometime yesterday. I’ll make some calls and get it ready to transport you.”
Beast muttered, Beast does not like to fly in belly of stupid bird.
And I didn’t like the way you hurt me when we shifted.
Beast had no comment to that one.
The drive to the New Orleans Lakefront Airport was ridiculous, traffic so dense it looked like Mardi Gras. I was pretty sure I’d hate Mardi Gras. I had successfully avoided the biggest drunken festival since the Roman Bacchanalia by being out of town each year, but this was nearly as bad. Maybe a soul music event or a blues or . . . whatever. New Orleans had a party every week. This one had brought out the early drinkers, the still-up-from-last-night drinkers, and the twenty-four-hours-a-day drinkers.
By the time Shemmy and I and the other two SUVs in our small cavalcade made it to the private airport, I’d had plenty of time to think about the implications of Leo being back, alive, and sane. Potential pitfalls and possible problems had played tag in my brain and left me both satisfied and uncertain. Bruiser had warned that Leo might want his city back if he rose sane, and if Leo wanted NOLA, he could have it. That one was satisfying. However, I’d still be stuck with the Dark Queen job. I’d still be the Blood Master of Clan Yellowrock. And I’d still have a primo who was also about to be crowned the emperor of Europe, and who had once sworn to Leo. That was the uncertain part, as I wasn’t sure what relationship Leo and I would have, and that Leo and Edmund would have. When people’s positions changed, so did the relationships forged in the past. But there were no easy answers, and until I had the chance to sit down with Leo, I wouldn’t know anything.
We arrived at Lakefront to find Bruiser, who had beat us there, and the helo, waiting and ready to go.
Mate, Beast thought, and she rolled over inside me as if exposing her belly for Bruiser to scratch.
Down girl, I thought at her.
I waved to Shemmy, dashed over, strapped in, and put on headphones. Takeoff was fast. Once we were in the air, I said to my sweetie pie, “Just so you know that I know—I accept I need protecting because I have too many enemies, and if I’m killed, y’all will be too.”
Bruiser pulled his mic to the front and said, “Yes. Your life, much like Leo’s life once upon a time, is the only thing keeping our world stable and our people safe. I promise to talk to you more so your freedom is protected.”
“Okay. For now. But we both know that Leo being back changes everything.”
“And so does your inability to shift and live.”
We didn’t talk much the rest of the flight and set down in the middle of a deserted street at dusk. There were no other inhabited houses on the street, which was odd. As if knowing my thoughts, Bruiser said, “Amaury bought all the homes on the street. He kept them up as did Leo, but they have been unoccupied for more than a century.” He took off his headphones, unstrapped, and patted the pilot on the shoulder, which seemed to be a sign that he was to wait. The helo began to power down, and I followed Bruiser from the helo, both of us doing the duck-and-scuttle move up to the twelve-foot-tall front gate.
The “estate” was really just a big old clapboard house with a tall privacy fence and a gated drive. Bruiser and I stood together as he rang an old-fashioned doorbell, a shrill three-ring-burst loud enough for us both to hear from outside. Minutes later, the helo was mostly quiet, and a blood-servant opened the door in the gate.
Her mouth fell open. “Primo,” she said, sounding awed. “We are honored.”
I felt Bruiser stiffen. It was too dark to see, so I pulled on Beast’s night vision and made out a dark-haired girl dressed in a sixties hippie tie-dyed T-shirt and bell-bottomed jeans. She wore a bandana headband, feather earrings, her hair was pulled back and braided, and she was barefoot. And she smelled strongly of weed. Okay. Interesting.
Also interesting was that Bruiser didn’t correct the primo comment. Instead, he said very gently, “RoseBud, I’m happy to see you again. I realize that Malita and Soledad are not expecting company, but do you think they might welcome an old friend?”
“Well. Sure.” RoseBud stuck the tip of her braid in her mouth and chewed on it while she thought. She looked at Bruiser again, and her eyes lit up. “Primo! It’s so good to see you. It’s been forever! Come on in. We’ll have a banquet!”
“I am not here to drink from your charges, my dear,” Bruiser said as we stepped into the yard. RoseBud closed and locked the gate. “I am here to ask of the old stories.”
“Oh.” RoseBud’s face fell. “They’ll be happy to see you, Primo. And I know that they’ll remember you. We spoke about you yesterday, and I showed them photographs to remind them of you. But they aren’t . . . they aren’t real . . . with it. It’s gotten worse in the last few months.” She glanced at me, wrote me off as unworthy, and raced ahead of us to the big green-painted house ahead. Her braid was still in her mouth.
Bruiser frowned after her but led the way. “RoseBud and five other blood-servants have cared for Soledad and Malita for over fifty years. It may be time to bring them back to New Orleans and let others take over.”
I didn’t say Ya think? but I considered RoseBud’s actions and Bruiser’s reactions. I knew that drinking blood from bat-poo-crazy vamps had deleterious effects on humans and even on other vamps, and that vamps drinking from drunk humans also got drunk, but this looked really odd. RoseBud had disappeared inside and left the front door hanging open in a total lack of security. We stepped inside. It was pitch dark. Bruiser turned on lights old style, by pulling metal chains. The house looked as odd as RoseBud had acted. It hadn’t seen a coat of paint or a new rug or refurbishing in fifty years or more. Everything was rotting. And I started sneezing from the clouds of ganja smoke. Bruiser took the lead and I followed, twice meeting the eyes of heads hanging on the walls and perched on shelves—dusty taxidermy of boar, deer, and turkey.
In the kitchen, things got weirder as we interrupted breakfast. Two vamps were drinking from two humans, the people stretched out on the huge farm table, a vamp sitting at either end. Unlike most feedings, there was nothing sexual about this, but there was also nothing neat. There was blood dripping here and there as the old vamps, each one with three-inch-long fangs, both dressed in frilly nightgowns, slurped. Ick.
The female vamps looked up when we entered, and one waved. Clearly, neither recognized Bruiser. When they were done with breakfast, the humans rolled off the table, and two others cleaned up the mess, which smelled too sweet, not quite fresh. More ick.
Bad blood, Beast thought. Do not eat sick-blood humans or vampires.
RoseBud said, “Senorita Omo and Senorita Martinez, we have visitors!” And then RoseBud lit up a joint the size of a blimp and started puffing.
Both vamp women came forward to Bruiser and stared at him from up close. They looked young but moved and acted like an old doddering couple. Bruiser said, “Malita Del Omo and Soledad Martinez. It is I, George Dumas. May we speak in the library?”
At the mention of his name, both vamps threw their arms around him, smearing their bloody jaws all over his shirt front. There was a lot of Spanish and French chatter as they pulled him by the hand into the dark hallway nearest.
I followed, yanking on lights as we moved. As dusty as the rest of the house was, the library was pristine, with leather-bound books from floor to ceiling, leather furniture, wood floors, and a tea table. A coal fire burned in the fireplace. I didn’t think I had ever seen a coal fire, and I wasn’t impressed at the faint heat it put out. The three of them sat on a sofa, the two vamps on either of Bruiser’s sides, and since they were still fully vamped out, I positioned myself out of the direct line of sight and pulled two wood stakes. If I needed to rescue him, I didn’t want to kill the old vamps.
After they chatted a while in what sounded like a mixture of European languages, Bruiser switched to English. “My dear friend, Malita. Do you recall the events surrounding the banishment of Adan Bouvier and his primo?”
As if they didn’t even see me behind the sofa, the two vamps bent close together in front of Bruiser and whispered in Spanish. Bruiser glanced at me and smiled fondly at whatever they were saying. The two separated and Malita said, “We were forbidden to speak of that night. But if you will send us new blood-servants, we will tell you what we remember.”
“Agreed,” Bruiser said gently. “Your servants have served long. They deserve a respite.”
The two female vamps launched into rapid Spanish, a back and forth, often overlapping dialogue, which caused Bruiser’s fond amusement to fade until all that was left was a bitter reek of sadness. He patted their hands. He hugged them. They began to rock back and forth as they talked. They reached across Bruiser and held hands, as if seeking comfort. Bruiser murmured what sounded like, “Lo siento por eso. Estoy triste por esto.”
Finally they fell silent. RoseBud appeared in the doorway, carrying in a tea set on a tray. She poured tea for the two vamps, ignoring Bruiser and me, which was just as well, as the tea set and cups looked as if they hadn’t been washed in years.
“RoseBud,” Bruiser said, “you and three of your housemates will pack and be ready to depart at dawn. The other two at the next dawn. Six new blood-servants will replace you. You have served in isolation long enough, and will be brought back to the Council Chambers. You have done well.”
RoseBud threw her arms high, jumped up in the air, and squealed wordlessly. Then she sped down the hall, shouting to her other blood-servants. Moments later, Bruiser and I were in the helo heading back in the dark to the private airfield near NOLA. We didn’t speak, and I figured Bruiser was processing all he had learned.
Beast thought at me, Was sick old human blood-servants and sick old vampires. Should be pushed off of high cliff, like rabid foxes.
Sick like the flu sick? Like the vampire plague sick?
No. Smelled of brain sick. Like old human with bad brain but . . . different.
I wondered if Bruiser had understood that. If not, our conversation was going to be a bad one. Sleep pulled at me as the vibration rattled my bones.
We landed at the private airfield and duckwalked to the waiting vehicle, which was the limo this time, not an armored SUV. Once inside, Bruiser gave Shemmy instructions and raised the privacy partition. As the vehicle began to move, Bruiser opened a bottle of champagne and poured two glasses. He sat back in his seat, sipping, looking pensive in the dim lights that filtered through the dark window tinting. As we turned away from Lake Pontchartrain, Bruiser said, “You told me about the ceremony when Ka became Onorio. You described the room with the concrete floor and an iron witch circle set into it. About Adan stabbing Ka and draining her to death.” He went silent, staring into the night, his elegant fingers turning the stem of the glass around and around, the wine tilting slowly inside the glass.
I said quietly, “And I told you about Bethany beginning the Onorio ceremony the same way she began it with you.”
Bruiser nodded slightly. Sipped. “According to my old friends, after Bethany began the ceremony with Ka, Adan brought in two Mithrans, bound them with silver, and Adan inserted needles into their arms and performed a Mithran-to-human blood transfusion, forcing blood into Ka.”
I started to speak, stopped, and started again. “Two vamps? Which two?”
Softly Bruiser said, “Dominique and Shaun MacLaughlinn.”
“Anamchara: One dead, a traitor who had been working against Leo for ages; the other still alive, sane, and in league with Ka and Monique against us.” I sipped the champagne, which was probably a very expensive wine, but it just tasted winey to me. “Why did Adan give Ka a transfusion? Was he trying to turn her? Can humans or skinwalkers be changed into vampires through transfusion? I thought it had to go through the digestive tract?”
“This may have been one of Adan’s experiments, a test of some kind. And Malita Del Omo and Soledad Martinez were later cut and their blood was fed to Ka, against their will. Against hers.”
“I found Adan in a cage, bat-raving nutso. I broke his neck and gave him to Leo. In hindsight, letting him keep his head might have been a bad decision.”
“Adan had old handwritten texts, ones Malita and Soledad insist were written by the Sons of Darkness and one of their trusted confidants.”
“Who?” I asked.
“I’m narrowing that down. I received the impression that the texts were written long in the past, though I haven’t been able to discover who in the Pellissier bloodline would have been considered the current master of all. And . . .” He rubbed his bearded chin, making a raspy sound. “And why he might be considered to be stronger than the Flayer of Mithrans. Leo never called either of the Sons of Darkness master.”
I remembered Monique’s conversation with Bruiser about Leo’s master. More important were Leo’s own words. My master, not my maker. Who could this master be? Was it the same person and force behind Immanuel and Ka becoming u’tlun’ta? Fear froze my lungs. Could the master be Grandmother? Had she been working with the Sons of Darkness? Or perhaps another vamp, one stronger than Shaun?
I sat up straight in the limo seat. Dominique and Shaun MacLaughlinn had been forced to give blood and forced to feed Ka, which could have created some kind of forced bond between them. And with Shaun tied to Ka, and Ka tied to Monique in her soul home, that meant that Shaun, Ka, Monique, and whoever else was still alive-ish were likely still under the control of whatever vamp had created the experiment, including the two brain-sick vamps we had just left. There was enough black magic taking place to fry the brain of any weak vamp, but Adan wasn’t powerful enough to force sane vamps to his will. So who was? Shaun?
And . . . Ka had to be still alive . . .
I said all this to Bruiser and added that Beast thought the old vamps had smelled sick. “It’s possible that they are still under the control of the person who forced the experiment on them. Ka was Adan’s primo. Like me, Ka probably had little training, and we always thought that Adan was teaching her, but what if he was forcing her?”
Bruiser placed his champagne glass in the small wooden holder. “Your Beast found that high-powered magic locket with the pictures of them, and we have no idea what it actually does. Leo had hidden it, and we don’t know why.”
“Arcenciel blood was used in the construction of the locket. And in the construction of the flying lizard amulet Sabina gave me and in Shaun’s snake armband. Arcenciels can timewalk better than I ever could. Leo said someone was back. Who? And how much power do they have, individually or collectively? And . . . what does timewalking have to do with this whole situation?”
Softly, Bruiser said, “Enough for Shaun to survive his mind breaking when his anamchara died in the rising sun.”
“Maybe because he was mind-bound to more than Dominique,” I said. “A three- or more-way mind-binding might offer some protection and strength not offered to ordinary bound vamps.”
A silence settled between us, and I rested my head on Bruiser’s shoulder, letting all the possibilities resonate through me. All of them bad.
Our flight and ride had been mostly silent, he had been distant, and now, clearly, he didn’t plan on coming inside. He tossed the cell to the seat and opened his arms, taking m
y hand, pulling me closer and onto his lap. Our arms went around each other. Silent, we breathed each other’s breath; I felt our heart rates, different at first, then slowly, as we sat, they synced. I lay my head on his shoulder.
“I love you,” he said. “I love you, and I don’t know how to protect you, how to keep you safe, how to make you happy without smothering you. You have enemies I didn’t even know about. That terrifies me.”
“You’re going back to HQ to see who the master might be, aren’t you?”
“There are journals everywhere at HQ. Sub-four. Sub-three. Leo’s private belongings are stored somewhere, perhaps in the empty room next to his old office. He will have some records. I need to find the text Soledad and Malita were talking about.”
“What about the library? Are there black magic texts and journals in the library?”
“Unlikely. The Vodka Boys were meticulous in finding all such items and storing them in sub-four storage,” he said, “but I never directed them to look in the library, only in storage areas. Why do you ask?”
“There was one night that Bethany and Sabina called me into the library, and we had a very strange discussion. I don’t remember what it was about now, but maybe it will come to me.”
Bruiser breathed out a quick laugh. “Hiding in plain sight. In the library. Why not. No one looks at the books in the library, why not store things there.”
“Hidden passages, hidden shelves, hidden whatever.”
He laughed quietly. “It’s going to be a long night.”
“I get to go meet with my brother—my brother by blood—about my grandmother’s perfidy and betrayal. Wanna change places?”
“Not in a million years.” He kissed me lightly and slid me to the seat. “I love you. You are my love first, my queen second, and I will love you and serve you for long as there is breath in this body.”
“I love you too. Be safe.”
Eli stepped out on the porch. Two security vamps, Thema and Kojo, took up posts on either end of the house.
Bruiser added, “And you have plenty of security.”