Whispers

by Shayne Silvers

  Roland began climbing to his feet, but Crispin waved him off. “You’re a guest. For today, at least. Tomorrow, you’re on duty like the rest of us. We will live vicariously through you,” he said, smiling and jerking his thumb at the half-empty bottle of wine.

  Roland didn’t argue, kicking his boots up onto the table to rub it in. I shrugged and reached for the bottle, topping off my glass as I muttered under my breath, but loud enough for all to hear. “Tarnation, tarnation, tarnation.”

  “Easy, Girlie,” Fabrizio growled in mock warning.

  Once they left, we sat in silence for a time. I tried not to fidget with impatience. Then, Roland climbed to his feet and placed his ear against the door. He turned back to me. “We’re alone.”

  I unloaded on him. “What the hell is up with the amulet?” I hissed.

  He thumbed it thoughtfully, finally raising his eyes. “How am I supposed to know? They did seem to buy my story, though, and it wasn’t a lie,” he added proudly.

  I grunted. That was true. “Windsor looked entirely too thoughtful for my taste.” I didn’t bother telling him about being able to sense the amulet. It would just distract him.

  Roland had explained their leadership structure to me on the drive back in the car. Crispin was obviously First Shepherd, the top of the chain. Fabrizio was next, and then Windsor, but they didn’t have fancy titles. It was just known that these were the top three. They were all stationed in Rome, responsible for different territories around the city. Needless to say, the Vatican was their home base, kind of like Roland in Kansas City.

  Four other Shepherds from across the world had made the trip to Rome, but the rest were out on missions and couldn’t make it back for the trial. Which was understandable. They couldn’t be expected to drop everything and head back to Rome, leaving a feral wolf or demon-possession to simmer for a few days.

  When in Rome, everyone deferred to Crispin, Fabrizio, and Windsor, in that order.

  We hadn’t been able to dig too deeply, but Roland had managed to indirectly bring up the night of the murder as we made our way over here to discuss Master Temple’s donation.

  Crispin had been out hunting vampires, and had even brought back a decapitated head as proof to the Conclave. The offending coven had been a thorn in their sides for some time.

  Windsor had been performing an exorcism out of town.

  And Fabrizio had been on his weekly date with his long-time girlfriend – a standing tradition.

  Roland would verify this later, but they all seemed to have rock-solid alibis. Maybe the killer was one of the Conclave wizards?

  No other Shepherds had been in town. “What about the Conclave?” I asked Roland.

  “That’s my next step. I’ll verify the Shepherds’ alibis, and then check on the Conclave.”

  I frowned. “And how are you going to do that without them noticing?”

  He smiled. “I have contacts in unlikely places within these walls. Those who would have no benefit from his death.” He saw my doubtful look. “I’ll be careful. Verify from different sources, only confirming if I have multiple people agree on the same point.”

  I didn’t need to tell him how to do his job, but I was concerned. Because Roland considered everyone here a friend. He had known them for years.

  Still…

  Someone had to be the traitor, which meant that someone he trusted was a killer, and we couldn’t let them know what we were up to.

  “Go take a walk. Get used to the grounds. Familiarize yourself with the battlefield. I’ll drop off our bags in our rooms and do some sleuthing. Rekindle old flames.” I blinked at him in surprise and he chuckled. “Figuratively speaking,” he corrected.

  “Make sure you get a lot of fluids,” I said meaningfully. “We don’t want you to get dehydrated.”

  He kicked the bag lightly, looking disgusted at his dependency, but he also looked…. Well, thirsty. He finally nodded gruffly.

  There was a knock at the door, and we instantly tensed. Shit. Had someone heard us?

  Chapter 32

  Windsor stared at us, breathing heavy as if he had jogged back here. Roland grew instantly alert, coupled with the fear that he had overheard our conversation.

  “What is it?” I asked, shoulders tensing.

  “I was sent back to tell you that the Conclave wishes to speak with you.”

  “My hearing is tomorrow…” I replied, cocking my head. Roland didn’t look pleased.

  Windsor’s face took on an anxious tone, as if agitated that delivering the message was delaying something important, not that he was annoyed with me personally. “It’s not your hearing. They just want to talk to you.” His eyes drifted to Roland. “In private. Now. I’ve got to go. Please hurry to the same room you first met them or we will all suffer for it. They’re not in the greatest of moods after Temple’s visit.”

  I nodded. “Okay.” With a dip of his head and a sigh of relief, he turned and jogged down the hall to catch up to his own meeting since he had been called back to deliver my summons.

  I arched a brow at Roland who grunted, but finally shrugged. “It’s not a hearing, so you should be fine. Want me to wait outside?” he asked.

  I shook my head after a brief hesitation. Was I nervous? Hell yes. But I could handle a meeting. Roland needed to do his sleuthing. “No. We don’t have the luxury of time. You have more important things to do. And if they’re meeting with me, you’ll have less eyes watching you,” I added, smiling. “Get a big drink before you go. We can’t risk you…”

  He nodded grimly, clutching our bags in one hand. “I’m going to find some rooms for us since no one has offered to help. I’ll see you soon.” He shot me an encouraging look, patting his phone in his pocket, and then whisked down the hall.

  “Godspeed,” I muttered sarcastically as I headed to the meeting room. This should be fun. The bureaucratic arm of the Shepherds – better known as a bunch of old, blind wizards who thought they knew best – wanted to meet with me in private. But why? If not my hearing, what else could they want to talk to me about?

  Had I done something wrong already? Were they wanting to grill me on my knowledge of Nate Temple? Alucard revealing his Daywalker powers? My breath caught and my steps slowed as another thought hit me. Did… they know about the Angel in Kansas City? About my blood? Had they sensed it on me?

  I let out a sigh and pressed on. Only one way to find out. I was pretty sure I would be under guard if I was in trouble. Seeing as how they trusted me enough to walk to the gallows on my own, everything was probably fine.

  Probably.

  If things went badly, Roland and I would have to flee or risk a war. And as good as we were, if the Conclave pointed a finger at us, we would have seven Shepherds chasing us down. I knew Roland was willing to die to save those girls, but I was inclined to keep my head attached. This would all be so much easier if we could just share the video Haven had shown us. I seriously contemplated calling Haven to ask him to change his mind, or to find a way for him to get the information to the Vatican indirectly. Something.

  Even though we had destroyed the evidence of Roland being turned, it was only a matter of time until word reached the Conclave. The vampires would be bragging about a Shepherd turned vampire. I couldn’t ask Haven to get involved. It would only lead to the Conclave finding out about Roland sooner. Haven had his own bureaucratic group to worry about – the Sanguine Council – the oldest and most powerful vampires in the world. I shivered at the thought of Roland having to meet them someday. I wondered who was part of the group? Vlad the Impaler? It was surprising how many people from legend and myth were still breathing, so it was entirely possible that some of history’s most famous vampires were still pulling strings.

  Hell, the infamous vampire hunter, Van Helsing, was pals with Nate.

  I approached my destination, staring at the doors with a quizzical eye, attempting to look casual. No guards. Maybe things were going to be alright after all.

  I took a cal
ming breath, placed my hands on the door and walked inside with my chin held high. Three wizards sat huddled together at a side table, arguing softly with each other. I was simply glad they weren’t sitting on the raised stage. At the sound of the door opening, they looked up to study my approach in silence. They didn’t look pleased, but they didn’t look angry either. More like this was their default face. Maybe they expected me to grovel.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  I smiled politely, studying them as I approached the table, wondering if I was supposed to sit in a specific spot or if we were all going to leave to get lattes and makeovers. At a hand gesture from the taller one who had spoken during the meeting with Nate, I sat at their table. They didn’t try to sit in a row, overwhelming me with three on one. Instead, they sat equidistant from another, putting us all on equal footing, so to speak.

  I showed them my teeth in a bright smile, trying to connect the names and descriptions Roland had shared with me in the car to their faces. I found myself avoiding their white eyes with a suppressed shudder. “Windsor told me you requested my presence?” I said neutrally, wording it so that it was clear I had not answered a summons – that I had voluntarily chosen to answer a request instead. Semantics, but I wouldn’t have them thinking I was a pushover. Things were going to get worse, soon, and if I acted sweet and weak now, it would be a very noticeable change when shit went downhill and they saw the Supreme Bitch, Callie Penrose, in action.

  No, I had to be rough enough around the edges that they formed a preconceived notion in their heads of me being difficult, ornery, and challenging, but not too difficult for them to manage. That way any questionable activity that happened later would match up with their assessment of my personality.

  Also, this would put the spotlight on me rather than Roland. I couldn’t risk them looking too closely at him. Haven had warned us that it would be dangerous, but that he shouldn’t be noticed unless he murdered someone and vamped out. Until then, his amulet should keep him safe from detection.

  They dipped their heads politely, but I sensed their annoyance at my choice of words.

  “Miss Penrose—”

  “Callie,” I corrected, smiling as I leaned closer, folding my hands before me on the table.

  The taller man’s lips thinned at me from across the table. “Callie,” he said, trying to reassert control of the conversation. “My name is Daniel. This is Richter,” he said, pointing to the balding, liver-spotted man on his right, “and this is Christopher,” he said, pointing to the lean black man on his left. “We wanted to discuss—”

  “My pleasure. But where are the rest of you?” I asked, furrowing my brow.

  Daniel let out a breath. “They are otherwise occupied. Now—”

  “Please don’t take this the wrong way. I only ask because it’s highly improbable that all seven of the Conclave are… visually impaired,” I scrounged up the politically correct name. “It caught me off guard. Before I start answering your questions, I would have the answer. Please.”

  Richter smiled. “The price of leadership,” he admitted in the raspy tone of a lifelong smoker. “And we can use our magic to see well enough.” A cold sliver of fear went down my spine as I forced out a nod. Did that mean they could sense magical auras? I almost ran screaming from the room, thinking they knew exactly what was happening, that Roland and I were not just wizards. After a few breaths, I realized they would have brought it up if they knew.

  “Thank you.”

  Daniel spoke back up. “The reason we… requested your presence was to get to know you a little better. Of course, Roland sends in his reports, but face-to-face is always best.”

  I nodded, eyes distant. Sensing he was finished speaking, I refocused on him, drifting to the other two after a moment of speculation. “I hope everything is okay.”

  The three of them stared back at me with different variations of confusion.

  I waved a hand at the raised stage. “The other Conclave members. The Shepherds all received a message to leave, and then Windsor was sent back – almost like it was urgent – to ask me to meet with the Conclave. But… not all the Conclave is here. I assume only the Conclave has the authority to request Crispin’s attendance to a meeting with the other Shepherds. Which means part of the Conclave is there, and part of the Conclave is here. With me.” I said all this absently, as if commenting on the weather. Then I turned back to Daniel with a frown. “Either that or the other Conclave members weren’t as interested in getting to know me.” I waited, not hostile, just observing. I even let my eyes study the room for a second, admiring several pieces of art.

  When I glanced back, they were studying me with their milky eyes. Richter was the only one smiling. Christopher looked impressed. Daniel looked stern. “You are… very observant,” he finally said.

  I shrugged. “Roland’s a very good mentor.”

  Something about that comment finally broke his façade, and he smiled. “How… refreshing,” he mused, leaning back in his chair. “You are correct, of course. The Shepherds are meeting with the other Conclave members on a matter of… security. Making sure everything is in order with… recent events.”

  I leaned forward. “Curious…” I said, not smiling, but staring at him very intently.

  His smile faltered under my blank stare. “Pardon?” he finally asked.

  I leaned back, shrugging lightly. “Roland is a Shepherd, yet he was not called to the meeting.”

  Richter cleared his throat. “The meeting was for a local matter. Crispin, Windsor and Fabrizio reside here. And Roland arrived a day early, so he’s not on the schedule. Until tomorrow.”

  I nodded, tapping my lips. “That’s a relief.” At his curious look, I turned back to him. “That the other Conclave members are otherwise occupied rather than simply not interested in me,” I explained, letting a smile slip out. “I hope everything is okay with security?” I was sure to look properly concerned, as if considering the situation like a student of Roland’s would. Or should.

  They paused before they nodded, risking glances at each other. “Many guests have arrived recently, and we are not known for our love of change,” Daniel finally admitted with a guilty smile. Christopher snorted at the quip. “We are just verifying everything is in order.”

  I acknowledged Daniel’s lame attempt at a joke with a shy smile and shake of my head, my long hair brushing my shoulders. “Okay. What can I help you with?”

  Daniel finally leaned back again, interlocking his fingers as he studied me. “You have scored very well on Roland’s aptitude tests. His reports are nothing short of glowing, although your attitude can sometimes get in the way,” he said with an amused smile. I was going to kill the stupid Shepherd-pire. My attitude? He had mentioned that in a report? “But attitudes can be good. They offer fresh perspective, and the Shepherds need as much of that as we can stomach. Lest we get set in our ways.”

  I nodded, smiling guiltily. “I agree.”

  “It seems Missouri has seen a lot of action in recent years. Kansas City and St. Louis, specifically. Then, wonder of wonders, a St. Louis resident appears, Nate Temple, to make a donation to our cause the same day you arrive. An acquaintance of yours.”

  I rolled my eyes indelicately. “Acquaintance – although accurate – may be stretching it. We met less than a year ago, but haven’t spent much time around each other.”

  They didn’t respond, simply watched me.

  “But regarding your other question, Missouri has been very busy lately…” I had to be careful here. Perhaps they knew more than I did. But there was always the chance that it was the other way around, and I didn’t want to spill my guts out. That would look bad on Roland, making them wonder why he hadn’t informed them himself.

  Christopher leaned forward, his forehead wrinkling into three grooves above his stark, white eyes. Faint dark freckles peppered his chocolate brown cheeks. “We were able to speak to Master Temple in private before you arrived,” he mused. “The Daywalk
er was a surprise, reading scripture from the Bible…” he shook his head in wonder. “Let’s just say that he caught our attention. We weren’t happy with his delivery, as you could see. Old men like us have little tolerance for rude behavior.” His eyes flashed brighter for a moment. “But we’ve had time to cool our heads. A little,” he said, chin subtly shifting to indicate Daniel.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “Yes. We have. Master Temple confirmed that Missouri was a bubbling cauldron. We proposed opening a church in St. Louis, or more accurately, stationing a Shepherd there on a more permanent basis.” Daniel met my eyes, and I saw a faint glint of hardness in those milky depths. “Master Temple… laughed.” I grimaced, realizing I was nodding as if expecting it. I noticed the other two men frowning at me and I shrugged.

  “Master Temple is not… the most diplomatic person.”

  They frowned, as if suddenly doubting my earlier description of our relationship. I rolled my eyes at them. “You seem very suspicious of me for some reason, and I don’t think I like it,” I said in a very frosty tone. “You met with him for ten minutes and came to the same conclusion about him. That he’s not one to bite his tongue. Should I suddenly assume that you have known him for decades?” I arched an inquisitive eyebrow at them and watched as their frowns evaporated and they gave me polite nods.

  Daniel cleared his throat. “Accept my apologies. We don’t doubt you, we just… we’re not used to such tactics, as Christopher explained.”

  “Here there be monsters…” I murmured under my breath.

  “Dragons…” he corrected, looking startled at my reference.

  I shrugged. “Mine sounds better.”

  “Speaking of Dragons, it seems Master Temple is also familiar with the Obsidian Son… the Dragon King, if you will. He lives in St. Louis as well. Master Temple helped put him into power, if rumors are true.”