by K. F. Breene
“The Red Prophet was originally supposed to meet us there,” Roger said, jerking his head. Darius put out his hand, and I took it, taking his hint that we should be walking and talking. The three of us headed out the door. “She’s gone missing again.”
“Oh, she has?” I asked, seeing Darius’s black town car waiting by the curb. Jimmy sat off to the side, leaning against the building wall, a couple of people attending him. Vlad hadn’t killed him, thank God. “She slept at my place last night, and she was there when I left. She’s probably just out terrorizing the neighborhood.”
“Romulus suspects she is on hallucinogens.” Roger stopped at the curb as Darius opened my door for me.
A middle-aged woman passing by caught sight of Roger, swayed into her friend, cackled, and said, “Well, hell-ooo, Mr. Muscle Man.” Her friend shushed her. “He’s hot, though, right? I’d jump on.” They both cackled this time, ambling away. The hurricanes had clearly gotten on top of them.
Roger continued as if he hadn’t heard her. He probably got that a lot. “She apparently likes acid a great deal. It seems to help with her Sight, more so than the hallucinogens in the Flush. They think it’s the chemical nature of it. They don’t have anything like it in the Flush. Don’t worry, though. It doesn’t affect her like it does humans.”
“Uh…” I put up my finger. “Are you sure about that? Have you seen how she carries on?”
A slight squinting of Roger’s eyes was the only indication he gave me that he agreed.
“She’ll make it there,” I said. “She wants to meet her nemesis.”
“Yes.” The word rode Roger’s sigh. “You’re probably right. We’ve heard a lot about the nemesis situation.”
“We’ll meet you there.” Darius ushered me into the car and then slid in beside me.
“You’re not going to offer him a ride?” I asked as Moss glanced at us in the rearview mirror. Assured we were in and ready, with a second to spare to flash me a routine scowl, he got underway.
“Our relationship will always be fragile, at best,” Darius said. “He would not accept a ride from me, just as I would not accept one from him.”
Silence drifted over us, filled with expectation.
“You’re mad, aren’t you?” I asked in a small voice, because I did love making his life hell, but I preferred to stop just shy of making him angry. Given he was incredibly hard to piss off, and often took my crazy in stride, that usually wasn’t too hard.
“I had hoped you would wait for me within the ward so Vlad wouldn’t see an opportunity to act.” His even voice didn’t fool me, especially since I could feel the rolling anger through the bond. “I had hoped to continue making plans without expressly relaying my intentions to the vampires. Challenging him like I did—in front of shifters, no less—will make things…complicated. Our various positions are no longer a gray area. However…” He clasped his hands in his lap. “I would be foolish to assume you would suddenly take your situation seriously when you never have before. Wishful thinking on my part. My anger, such as it is, is not justified.”
We’d still have hard, angry sex later on, immediately followed by sweet, loving make-up sex. They were both equally amazing.
A shiver rolled over me, and I slipped my hand onto his upper thigh, then pushed it further up until I felt the hard bulge. He was thinking along the same lines.
“I like when you talk yourself around,” I said, my voice husky.
“Hmm.” He moved his hands and let me rub, making no move to reciprocate. “The only salvageable outcome…is that you didn’t reveal how far you’ve come with your…magic…”
His eyes fluttered closed, and he opened his knees just a little, allowing me more access. He sighed as I sped up, completely unconcerned that there was someone else in the car. Vampires did not care, at all, about expressing their passions or desires in the presence of others. They had parties where they shared blood sources, sometimes at the same time. They turned people in groups. Sometimes they collected in a room, got naked, and just went for it. It was wild. I obviously wasn’t into that level of shenanigans—Darius and I had a different situation—but I’d learned that I was not bashful in the least. Clearly.
“We also made a statement in front of the…shifters…” He tensed, his breathing coming fast now. “Roger trusts that I will handle…the vampire aspect…of our situation. He knows me well…enough to—” He tensed, and then shuddered. Vampires could also handle business when they were in the throes of passion. That I didn’t love so much. He continued, “He knows me well enough to realize I’m the best hope we have.”
“And you think the elves need a come to Jesus moment?” I asked as we stopped in front of Callie and Dizzy’s house. “You actually want a war?”
“I would like to discuss the matter more thoroughly with Romulus, but from what I’ve seen, a war is inevitable. I don’t think the elves will take kindly to the warrior fae resuming their policing duties. Their power is currently mostly unchecked, and if they need to answer to the fae, they will lose a lot of their…less-than-reputable freedoms. The current ruling party will suppress anyone who tries to make that happen.” He pushed the car door open and got out, reaching for me. “I think so, at any rate.”
“Okay, but”—I scooted across the seat and got out of his way—“if you think the elves need to be overthrown, you’re talking about siding with Lucifer and Vlad.”
He gave me a look. “I think Lucifer’s main goal concerns finding the woman he saw in the Underworld. If he thinks the elves have played him false, and actually did have a role with her, he will rise up, I have no doubt. If he wins, I can see him turning the kingdom over to Vlad, but not as an equal. He will set the parameters, and he will maintain the guidelines. Vlad will be nothing but his steward. He is a fool for thinking otherwise.”
“Or maybe he thinks he can sit on the throne, or whatever, and weasel out from under Lucifer once he’s established.”
“As I said, a fool. Lucifer has been a ruler for a long time, and Vlad only thinks he rules our vampire faction. His ambition has grown too big. They are unevenly matched, and Vlad will be on the losing side. Vampires will be on the losing side, just like they clearly are with the elves.”
“So then…” I shook my head at him. I hated when he got going. His strategizing got dizzying. “How are we going to knock the elves down a peg while also keeping me from Lucifer while also protecting us from Vlad’s efforts?”
Darius paused at Callie and Dizzy’s door. “While also freeing up the Underworld so that vampires can relinquish their dependence on unicorns and humans and procreate naturally?”
“Yes. That too.”
A loud rumble vibrated up the street, and a souped-up blue Mustang pulled up to the curb. After a moment, the door opened and Roger stood. Alder, his beta, got out of the passenger side.
“The answer, I believe, lies in Miss Taylor’s quest. She sees herself, and the fae and the shifters, standing between two different armies. The images flip-flop. Vlad and Lucifer opposed her first, and then the elves. It seems she is in the middle. She is tasked with leading the army to instill order.”
“The fae and shifters against two huge armies?”
Roger slowed as he neared the porch steps, Alder behind him. He was clearly listening in, and given Darius didn’t start thinking his comments at me, he was fine with that. It was actually nice when they worked together, since it saved me from being stuck in the middle, but it was definitely weird.
“At first glance, yes, that would seem to be the case. But Vlad was correct when he spoke of the unrest in the Realm. I wonder how hard the elves’ forces will fight if they think there is a reasonable chance someone will, in essence, rescue them.”
“Not hard, probably. They’ll probably just get lost.”
“Precisely.”
“That’s not the situation with Lucifer and the vampires, though.”
“I will halve the vampire forces. I must. We all know we must keep o
ur numbers up, so we will not rush to kill each other. If we block the other vampires—if I block Vlad—that will take him out of the equation. That leaves the demon forces.” He held my gaze for a long moment.
“I don’t have a merry band of demons at my back. I can’t take on all their forces.”
“You have Penny, and Penny has the mages. And you have the type of power demons are used to following, not fighting. That will cause confusion, which might be enough to give the mages an opening.”
“Right. Except Lucifer.”
He stared at me for another long, silent moment.
“I’m sensing I won’t like the answer to this riddle,” I said softly.
“You will handle Lucifer.”
I laughed to stop from throwing up. Then shook my head and opened the door. “You need to get a new plan, bub, because that one isn’t going to work. I’m a novice, he’s a master, and you’re an idiot. There’s no way I can go up against my dad and win.”
Nine
Penny sat at a round table in Callie’s living room with Emery, across from her mother’s intense scowl. A couple of days ago, her mother had gotten a reading she didn’t much like. It came down to this: she couldn’t do the job herself. She would need help. Presumably help from the Red Prophet. Since then, she’d pulled out all the stops, taking to her crystal ball, cards, you name it, trying to get a different reading. Any other reading. No go.
“I just don’t see what sort of help I could possibly need,” Karen said, crossing her arms over her chest.
Callie and Dizzy walked amongst the other tables, identical to the one in front of Penny, usually pulled out for mage meetings or cards. This time, though, they were planning stations. It was generally agreed upon that tonight would be the meeting of the minds, and tomorrow they’d do whatever the Seers worked out.
The warrior fae had shown up ten minutes or so ago, along with Devon and his pack, and they were just waiting for Reagan and the Red Prophet.
“Nice setup you got here, Missus Banks,” Steve said, stretching back in his folding chair with his hands clasped behind his head and his elbows flared out to the sides. “The mage business pays well.”
“Beauty pays well. The mage business pays in the form of ulcers,” she replied, pouring wine for Romulus.
“She’s got that right,” Karen murmured.
Reagan burst into the room with a hard scowl, leather pants ending in thick-soled boots, and weapons strapped all over her person. Darius strutted in behind her, followed by Roger and Alder. The shifters in the room straightened up immediately. Romulus looked around with interest.
“By all means, come on in,” Callie groused. “Why bother knocking?”
“Like a bunch of barnyard animals,” Karen intoned.
“Oh, great, they’re joining forces in their bad moods,” Penny murmured.
“Still no sign of the Red Prophet,” Roger told Romulus as he took the few stairs down into the room. Roger sat in the empty chair in the corner, his back to the wall, facing the room.
“She’ll turn up.” Romulus crossed an ankle over his knee and leaned back. “This is her way. Though you might want to have someone do a sweep of the yard. It’s possible she tucked herself into a tight spot and can’t get out.”
“The Red Prophet.” Karen huffed. “Anyone that needs to use a stage name isn’t the real deal.”
“Mother, shh,” Penny hissed. “You’re embarrassing me.”
“Penny Bristol, how can I possibly be embarrassing you?” She turned a little to shoot her glare at Penny head-on. “I am not the one suspected of wandering the yard like a lunatic, calling myself ridiculous names— Oh Lord, what on God’s green earth…”
The Red Prophet stood halfway up the stairs to the second floor. Given Callie and Dizzy’s jumps, they hadn’t known she was in the house.
Her fire-red hair frizzed around her head like some sort of tumbleweed in motion, wilder than if she’d stuck her finger in an electrical socket. She wore a long plaid coat tied at her waist with a dirty rope she’d clearly found on the street at some point. Or a construction yard. A brown suede skirt dusted her shins, and worn black snow boots covered her feet. She held a bright orange clutch that looked empty, and she was staring down at Penny’s mother.
“You…” she said, followed by raising a gnarled finger.
“Oh, you have got to be kidding.” Karen turned in her seat and reached for her tea.
“Red Prophet, meet your nemesis, Karen Bristol,” Reagan said, a grin on her lips as she moved through the tables. She chose an empty seat at Roger’s table rather than one of the two open spots next to Penny. She probably knew Penny was going to yell at her for sneaking away, unprotected.
“Yes, fantastic,” Romulus said. “Let us begin, shall we?”
He uncrossed his leg and leaned forward into the suddenly quiet room. That was, until Karen said, “Isn’t someone going to make the nutter on the stairs sit down?”
“Oh, I don’t think any of us want to try to wrangle someone like that,” Dizzy said with a calming smile. Karen harrumphed.
“I have some new information to share,” Darius said, sitting near the door in the last seat at the table hosting Devon’s pack. Rod, the big kid a little younger than Penny, gave him a confused look. It was clearly a day for strange occurrences.
The room listened as Darius laid out the chat he’d had with Vlad not that long ago, and though he didn’t show it, Penny got the distinct impression he was irritated with Reagan. Maybe that was why she’d taken a seat across the room. Romulus spoke of Charity’s quest changing again. She’d had another vision, apparently, and this time she’d found herself looking at Vlad and Lucifer again.
“I think our next steps are clear,” Romulus said when Darius was finished. “We need to go to the Flush to take care of some business.” It was clear he didn’t want to openly discuss what business. But then, no one liked airing family-related dirty laundry, and the issues he was having with his mother were just that—Penny had been there to witness. “After, we have to present Charity to the elf royalty. The presentation and following meetings will help us figure out how best to proceed. Until then, we have no idea whether the elves will be amenable to us aggressively resuming our roles in the Realm.”
“Shall we consult the oracle?” Darius asked. “I was given to understand that was a chief function of this meetup.”
“Yes, of course.” Romulus smiled pleasantly at the Red Prophet, who had not moved an inch, including her outstretched, pointing finger.
“Oh, for heaven’s sakes,” Karen said under her breath after a glance that way. “I’ll take up my post in the formal dining room. My supplies are already laid out.”
Now the Red Prophet did descend the stairs, much faster than a human could’ve. At the hall landing, she jumped the last couple of steps down into the living room and said, “Hah!”
“It appears she is at her most dramatic this evening,” Romulus intoned. “It can be trying, but this is when she does her best work, I assure you. Granted, I am usually not on hand to actually witness her readings, but…well, hopefully it won’t take too long.”
A grin tickled Emery’s lips.
“What?” Penny whispered.
“I’ll tell you what,” her mom butted in, pushing up from the table. “The last thing he wants to do is be subjected to this…this…nutcase and her crazy antics. Most dramatic,” she grumbled. “Batshit crazy, that’s what he ought to say.”
“You’ve Seen me,” the Red Prophet said, crouching down to walk and waving her hands over her head like a chimpanzee. “You know.”
“Bah. I don’t know anything.” Karen batted it away, walking ahead with a stiff back. “I’ve been wrong before. There was this pizza episode…”
Charity watched in utter fascination from the edge of the dining room as Karen started shuffling her tarot cards. The fog in the crystal ball rolled and boiled, lights sparking within it. By Karen’s glances at it, her brow furrowed,
that obviously wasn’t normal or expected. The Red Prophet sat on the actual table like some sort of centerpiece, looking on. Karen was doing her best to ignore the situation as she worked, but it couldn’t have been easy. Charity was having a hard time concentrating with it herself.
“Why does she…turn on the dramatics?” Charity whispered to her dad, who was standing next to her, watching. Darius, Roger, and Emery stood in the room with them, wanting the information as it came. Reagan had flat-out refused to attend. She didn’t much like Seers, it seemed. So Penny had stayed with her in the outer room, and Charity got the idea it was to keep her from taking off. Reagan was as bad as the Red Prophet, she gathered.
“She is very old,” Romulus answered. “And she has done a lot of mind-altering substances. She—”
“That’s not why,” the Red Prophet interrupted, her gaze drifting toward the ceiling. She stuck out her tongue and placed a little white square onto it. “Your mother is why. She is a very exacting woman, and she likes to have her way. I am something she cannot control, not even with her magic. I remind her of it, often, which is why she keeps me…apart.”
Charity tried to keep from stiffening. Though her dad wouldn’t admit it, he was having a lot of anxiety about what would happen with Grandmama’s situation. The First had kept her people hidden away for years. She’d divided them, essentially forcing those who didn’t want to remain idle to leave. She’d torn Romulus from Charity’s mom in the Brink, and created a hostile situation for the visiting shifters. She had a lot to answer for, but she was also family. She was the matriarch of their people, and had been for a long time. Calling her down would be a terrible burden on them all.
“Can I have a little quiet, please?” Karen asked.
“You don’t need quiet—you need to stop being so stubborn,” the Red Prophet replied. “You have a block for a head.”
“Says the drug addict.”
“I am not an addict. I am a crackhead.”