War Song (The Rift Chronicles Book 2)

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War Song (The Rift Chronicles Book 2) Page 21

by BR Kingsolver


  He regarded me for a long moment. “Done.”

  Chapter 35

  Kirsten, the elves, and I went downtown on Friday night. Kirsten looked at me like I was crazy when I first told her what I planned to do.

  “Are you shooting for the trifecta? You’ve been attacked by mages, then demons, and now you’re trying for vampires tonight?”

  But the enthusiasm she exhibited in deciding on an outfit for the evening was a little unsettling.

  “I didn’t say you have to go with me,” I said. “It’s liable to be dangerous.”

  She shrugged. “Probably, but you need someone to watch your back, and I haven’t been out dancing in forever.”

  The elves seemed to have no qualms at all about going out, and I guessed it was because they were bored. The F brothers adopted glamours that were only slightly less intimidating than their natural forms, while the women took their cues from Kirsten, conjuring outfits that appeared to invite hypothermia but covering up with long, heavy coats. Of course, their actual clothing, hidden by the glamours, was magikally hardened leather and brass over wool. But that didn’t keep me from shivering at the sight of them wearing only mid-thigh skirts and translucent tops with nothing underneath.

  Not having the shielding abilities of my companions, I took one look at the temperature outside and pulled on thermal tights, thick socks and jeans, a turtleneck and a sweater, topped by an insulated thigh-length leather jacket. The same way I would dress if I planned to ride my motorcycle. It didn’t matter how sexy I dressed, I didn’t feel sexy when I was shivering and my teeth were chattering.

  I also loaded up with magitek devices, including a couple of extra enhancers. And I reminded myself—again—to talk to Mychal about helping me create a personal shielding device.

  We drove downtown in three cars—Kirsten and I in my police car, bracketed by the elves in their glamoured armored assault vehicles. I used my access credentials, and we parked in the garage under Police Headquarters.

  “Our normal routine?” Kirsten asked.

  “Might as well see what’s open,” I replied.

  A lot of wreckage from the demon riot was still apparent—burned out buildings and cars, wreckage strewn about. There were about half as many people on the street as what I would normally expect on a Friday night with winter closing in. A closer inspection revealed that while there were demons about, they were of the minor breeds—succubae and incubi, liliths, a few devils, and the omnipresent imps. I saw no standard demons anywhere. Vampires were the dominant race other than humans.

  Uniformed cops and Whittaker’s mercenaries were out in force. A cop or a soldier on every corner. Combined with the evidence of the riot, it wasn’t very inviting, but it did feel somewhat safe.

  Our favorite kick-off point for a night out, the Gaslight Grill, was closed, its windows boarded up. Jack’s was also closed. The Faraway Inn was open and only about half full, so we went in and ordered drinks with several pounds of boiled shrimp, a platter of crab fluffs, and the kitchen-sink nachos. Just because the elves had glamoured themselves a foot shorter than their actual size, it didn’t mean their appetites had shrunk. I hoped the war ended before I went broke feeding them.

  From what I could overhear of the conversations around us, I guessed that none of the other patrons had been downtown for the riot the night before. I could understand why those who had, and weren’t either in the morgue or the hospital, would be shy about sticking their necks out.

  After that light snack, we headed up the hill to what usually was the liveliest vampire club in town. Bran’s Castle was run by vampires for humans, and part of its allure was an unhealthy number of vampires hanging out to thrill the human patrons. I knew they had been cited a couple of times for discriminatory labor practices, but I couldn’t figure out why a human would want to work there.

  True to their reputation, the bartenders, bouncers, and waitstaff were all vamps. About a third of the clientele was as well. I didn’t see a single demon of any type.

  The band was playing an eerie sort of gothic music, but I found that more to my taste than the heavy metal some vamps preferred. After our drinks were delivered, it didn’t take long for a number of men—human and vampire—to ask the three ladies I was with to dance. One vamp did approach me, but he took the hint when I snarled at him.

  “That was rather anti-social,” one of the F brothers—Folodin possibly—said with a grin. Their glamours were quite different, making them a little easier to tell apart.

  “Was it? I was hoping I came across strong enough. It saves the trouble of breaking his arm later.”

  “Not a fan of vampires, I take it,” Fasparin said.

  “I had a bad experience in high school. First person I ever killed. I caught flak for weeks at school.”

  He chuckled. “So, you do consider them persons.”

  “Sure. They’re sentient. They have some rather disgusting dietary habits, but so do some humans. Don’t you consider them persons?”

  “Vermin.”

  “Ah. That’s a very enlightened attitude.”

  He grinned and winked at me. “Some of our people hunt them for sport. Personally, I prefer deer. It tastes a lot better.”

  “There aren’t any deer in Iceland.”

  He sighed. “That is true. We sometimes go to Scandinavia or Canada to hunt. There were deer in Alfheim, though.”

  “You came across the Rift?”

  He sighed again. “Yes, but not by choice. I came over with Joren. Wrong place at the wrong time. The Rift opened and just swallowed us up.” He took a sip of his drink. “I miss the trees. That’s what’s nice about Loch Raven. Iceland doesn’t have any trees.”

  Two bars run by demons were still operating. We hit both of them, and they were practically deserted. Another vampire bar was about half full, and then we went to a human bar. The bouncers at the door were turning away demons and vampires.

  I danced a couple of dances with men who asked me, and one each with the F brothers.

  Siarin and I were on our way back from the ladies’ room when I came face to face with Karl Rudolf, my Aunt Courtney’s lover and conspirator.

  “Why, hello, Danica. You’re looking well.” Although he had lived mostly in North America for the past fifty years, he still had a trace of German accent.

  “Hello, Karl. I’m surprised to see you here. It doesn’t seem like your kind of place.” I was on the older side of the people in the bar, but Rudolf was fifty years older than me. He was a stocky man, several inches shorter than I was, with a short beard and rust-colored hair cut in a long flat-top. Wearing a tweed jacket, he looked like the university professor he’d been before inheriting control of his Family.

  “I was in the mood for some music, and I do like to dance,” he said. “Would you share a dance with me?”

  That surprised me, but I figured he wanted to talk, and I was curious.

  “Sure.” I followed him out onto the dance floor. He danced like a middle-aged university professor, too. When the song was over, he offered to buy me a drink, so I went back to his table with him. His bodyguards responded to some sort of unspoken signal and vacated their seats, leaving us alone. Siarin managed to be unintrusive but hovered just behind one of Rudolf’s guardians.

  “I heard a rumor you were staying out at Findlay House,” I ventured, picking up my drink when it slid out of the compu-menu on the table.

  He gave me a ghost of a smile. “Yes. Your Aunt Courtney has suffered so many losses in such a short time. She needs a friend to lean on.”

  “And is Aunt Veronica staying there, too?”

  “Ah, no. My wife is in Vienna. She and the girls don’t feel safe here after what happened at Lila’s betrothal. But I have business interests in the Metroplex that I need to attend to. Have you seen your grandmother recently?”

  “No, I believe she’s traveling. Granduncle George’s death hit her hard, and then there was all that unpleasantness with the Council.” I couldn’t fi
gure out what he wanted. Surely he knew Olivia was in Ireland.

  “Yes, the Council is being difficult,” he said. “Speaking of rumors, I heard that Olivia wanted to bring you into the Family business. Of course, you should speak to Courtney if you are still interested in that.”

  I batted my eyes at him. “I don’t believe Oliva and I ever discussed that. I’ve just been promoted to captain, and I’m very happy working for the police.”

  I finished my drink, thanked him, and excused myself, going back to the table where Kirsten and the elves awaited me. Shortly thereafter, Rudolf left with a girl young enough to be his granddaughter. I wondered what Aunt Courtney was doing that left her lover at loose ends. I couldn’t believe she would send him out to spy. His ham-handed attempts to extract information from me were laughable.

  We called it a night and trekked back to the police station. On the way, we passed the little park where I had been ambushed by the mages.

  “Holy crap,” Kirsten said. “This place looks worse than the riot areas.”

  “It looks like a full-scale mage battle happened here,” Folodin said.

  The walls of all the buildings around the park were blackened, and the windows facing the park shattered. The nice little fountain was a pile of rubble. The trees were all either burned or looked as though they had exploded. My legs felt a little weak with the realization of how close I’d come to dying the way my attackers did.

  A couple of blocks along, a gang of young vampires came down the street toward us. They were rowdy—laughing and shouting back and forth to each other. Acting a lot like a bunch of drunken human teenagers. When they saw us, they quieted down, whispering between themselves.

  The elves all dissolved their glamours and drew their swords. The vampires turned and ran.

  Chapter 36

  I got up early the following day and drove out to Loch Raven. Mom had called and said the generator and the turbine had been delivered, and Mary Sue planned to meet me there with the magitek enhancer for the assembly.

  Kirsten had to work, and the elves did something similar to a coin flip to determine who got to go with me and who had to stay in the city.

  I arrived shortly after Mary Sue did, and Mom fed us breakfast. Then Mary Sue went out to her car and came in with the new enhancer. It was pink. Mom turned a baleful eye on me, and Mary Sue burst out laughing.

  “And here’s the invoice,” Mary Sue said, handing Mom a piece of paper.

  Mom studied the invoice, then she burst out laughing. I looked over her shoulder. The charges for the enhancer were detailed, then down at the bottom was a line that read, ‘Discount: color pink –25%.’

  “Did you bring the drone prototypes?” I asked.

  “Yeah. We can play with them after we install the turbines.”

  “You’re going to help me?”

  “Gotta make sure you do it right. After all, you only finished second in your class at uni.” She winked at Mom.

  We also had the help of six huge elves, whose strength I greatly appreciated. A task I thought would take all day was done by lunchtime.

  We were just finishing up when Aleks called. He had been in Pittsburg negotiating warehouse space for a Midwest distribution center.

  “Hey, do you want to go out to dinner and a play in Columbia tonight?” he asked.

  “I can’t. Have to work. We had a little demon trouble while you were gone.”

  “Yeah. I saw the damage downtown. Soon, though, okay?”

  “Soon. I promise.”

  “Do you know Karl Rudolf?” he asked, changing subjects. “He called me, said that since Olivia Findlay wasn’t with the Findlay organization any longer, Courtney Findlay-Moncrieff wanted to meet with me to talk about the distribution deal I was negotiating with Olivia.”

  “That’s not entirely true,” I said. “I think you should probably check with Frank Novak before you do any business with Courtney. She controls only a small part of the Findlay empire.”

  After lunch, Mary Sue brought out the drones. All three were leaf green on top. The bottoms of each were painted in a different color—sky blue, cloud white, and cloud gray.

  “Camouflage,” she said. “The only variations on the assembly line are color and what kind of magik you want to use for the weapons. So, get that from the customers, okay?”

  We took the drones down to the lake, and she demonstrated their capabilities one at a time. The first drone shot impressive bolts of lightning, the second had a flame thrower, and the third fired a small missile, about six inches long with stabilizer fins. The explosion was obviously magikally enhanced and impressive.

  “Using the plans you gave us, we enhanced the motors, so they’re basically self-charging. We’ve had one drone flying for a week now without landing or refueling. And that electrical trigger you devised is amazing. Even a non-mage can control and fire the things,” Mary Sue told us.

  “I had to figure out how Kirsten could use all the magitek devices I’ve built into her greenhouses,” I said.

  We put the drones into the trunk of my car so I could take them to Whittaker. I was packing up to leave when my mom and Joren came out of the house.

  “Do you have an operation scheduled tonight?” Mom asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  “Concerning Courtney Moncrieff’s daughters?”

  That stopped me. “Where did you hear about that?”

  Joren spoke up. “One of the assets we have inside Findlay House overheard a conversation between Courtney Moncrieff and a man named Karl Rudolf. Your name was mentioned, and they talked about laying an ambush for you when you met the women—her daughters.”

  “That’s lovely,” I said. “We have a leak.”

  “If we have assets inside their operations, we’d be foolish to think they don’t know what we’re doing as well,” Joren said.

  From what elven history I’d studied, the elves had been experts on intrigue a couple of hundred thousand years before humans created their first farm.

  “Thanks for the warning. Unfortunately, I don’t have any way of calling things off or changing the plan. We’ll just have to ambush the ambushers.”

  “Do you need any help?” Joren asked.

  “I’ll take all the help I can get,” I said. “I don’t know what we’re facing. Courtney’s tried to kill me three times using mages, once using demons. Maybe this time she’ll just post snipers.”

  Joren beamed. “Right answer. Where should my warriors and I meet you?”

  On my way back to town, I called Whittaker and told him what Joren’s people had heard. Our phones were secure magitek devices, so I didn’t worry about eavesdroppers. We made some changes to our plan, and I hoped they would be enough.

  My team was comprised of Mychal Novak, Carmelita, Luanne, and four elves—the F brothers, Gildor, and Elbereth. Altogether, Whittaker had committed two hundred men to the operation, and Joren was bringing thirty-five warrior mages.

  Mychal and I entered the club two hours before the scheduled rendezvous and took a booth in the back corner near the washrooms. Carmelita and Luann showed up an hour later and took a table by the front door. The elves, wearing their glamours, came in shortly after and sat at a table in the center of the room near the dance floor.

  The band started playing, and they weren’t half bad. The club we had chosen was the one where I saw Karl the night before. I told myself it was pure coincidence, but how had Courtney and Karl found out about our scheme? It had to be a leak at Police Headquarters, and Whittaker had discreetly assigned a small team to investigate it.

  Unless Karolyn and Beatrice had sold me out. I refused to believe I was that gullible.

  “Don’t you think we should attempt to talk to each other on a first date?” Mychal suddenly said. “So, I like long walks on the beach, pina coladas, and blonde witches with curvy figures.”

  I laughed. “And here you are, stuck with me. Yeah, you’re right. We shouldn’t act like we’re a couple of cops waiting for so
mething to happen. Okay, I’ll go first. I was mostly raised by my mom, with a lot of time spent at Findlay House. Attended school at Roland Prep, then they shipped me off to the Huntingdon School in western Pennsylvania—either because I was a bad influence, or to protect me, or to protect the girls at Roland, depending on who you talk to. Then Johns Hopkins for a magitek degree with a minor in computer science. And you?”

  “What made you decide to become a cop?”

  “A mental condition. Sheer stupidity.”

  Mychal laughed. “I can relate to that. Where did you meet Kirsten?”

  “At Huntingdon. She was there voluntarily—scholarship student. You might have noticed, she’s the kind of woman the Magi want for their trophy wives. She’s not a mage, but she’s a strong witch. Good breeding stock.”

  Mychal blushed so deeply I thought he might combust. “That’s not how I see her. That’s not who I am.”

  “No, I don’t think so, either. She’s not the trophy wife type. I saw her set a man’s crotch on fire once.”

  He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I can see her doing that. She doesn’t suffer fools.”

  “Our sisters just walked in,” I said.

  To my immense gratitude, he didn’t turn around. “Anyone with them?”

  I waited to see who came in behind them. “Doesn’t look like it, but people at three different tables took a visible interest.”

  Using my implant, I sent a message to my team, including Mychal, identifying the suspect tables.

  What constraints are we under? A message came back from Gildor.

  Since you aren’t a cop, just be discreet and don’t get caught. Avoid harming any innocents, I sent back.

  His table was in my line of sight, and I saw him nod.

  Karolyn and Beatrice were dressed to impress—and to catch someone impressive. What Kirsten called fishing clothes. They took the booth right behind Mychal. It was available because the shield he had cast in front of it prevented anyone else from sitting down there.

 

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