by A A Mize
“Stay awake, Matthias. I have an important lesson for you. Turned aren’t supposed to share blood. It creates a strong bond between them. The more they exchange blood, the stronger that bond becomes,” she said, licking Matthias’s blood from her finger. “You fed from me. And now I’ve tasted your blood, too. I know what’s in that pretty head of yours now. You’re kinda pissed at Rowan for allowing me to come back, huh? Well, he really can’t help himself, you know. I’m just too much for him.” She grinned, dragging the bloodied knife gently across his face. “I hope you sleep well, young buck. When you wake up, everything you love will be gone.”
“You won’t ever find them,” he whispered.
“Oh won’t I?” she said with a giggle, as she fished his phone out of his pocket. She settled herself on his lap to check his messages. “Oh look, one from Sophie! She says she’s at Samiell’s waiting for you. Aww, how sweet. You don’t want to keep her waiting, do you? Well, she’ll just have to suck it up for one more day without you.”
Yvette tossed his phone across the alley where it skittered across the pavement to rest under a dumpster. “I simply don’t have time for her tonight. But that’s okay. If I didn’t give you enough drugs to overdose you, you should be out long enough for me to do as I please with that beautiful body of yours.” She then laughed and rose from his chest, kicking off her heels as she pulled her clothes off one piece at a time until she was completely naked.
Matthias was fading into blackness, the pale, willowy body of Yvette morphing into a more familiar form: his. It was like looking into a mirror. She had taken his form and made it her own. Now she looked down on him, smiling that same easy smile he was so known for.
“I bet I can get close to Sophie like this...” she mused, turning over her hands, pleased with the size of them. In Matthias’s form, she was much larger. Much more destructive.
The real Matthias couldn’t hold on any longer, even with fear for Sophie coursing through his body. The dazzling golden lights lulled him into deep sleep, his own voice echoing in his head as Yvette spoke one final time before he lost consciousness.
“Nighty night.”
41
Samiell’s house was beyond what Sophie was expecting. She stood transfixed on the house for some time, allowing the look and feel of it to take her to a time before her existence. Light from the full moon bathed the colonnade in a silver glow, the moss hanging from the trees cast long shadows across the drive.
Rowan led her through those shadows, but it was all she could do to hold on to his arm and not break away to explore. The darkness made her nervous anymore. No longer was she a normal human, blissfully ignorant of the things that lurked in the night. There was a Turned trying to kill Matthias. And there was Yvette, who seemed to want her dead. Staying close to Rowan and Matthias was imperative but that didn’t stop her from admiring the home in all its antebellum glory.
“It’s beautiful.”
“Yes. I remember watching them build it,” Rowan remarked with a small smirk, dark eyes scanning the face of the house as if he could still see the bones rising from the earth to become this great mansion before them. Sophie paused, Rowan’s arm slipping from her grasp as he continued up the steps. “Is something the matter?”
“I’m sorry. It’s still hard to wrap my head around how old you are,” she said, rejoining him on the stairs.
“You’ll get used to it eventually,” Rowan said but he pursed his lips as soon as the words left his mouth.
She wondered what he was thinking about with that solemn look on his face. She longed to ask him, but she was certain she wouldn’t get an answer. Banging the door knocker on the strike plate created a deep resonating tone that echoed off the colonnade.
“It’s safer here,” he assured her.
“I guess,” Sophie sighed. She was worried about him. Worried that he would go home, and Yvette would be waiting for him. There was no way to know what she would do if he refused her; if he managed to refuse her. Memories of when Yvette attacked her came rushing back, accompanied by the images of what Azazel did to Matthias. Yvette was a woman—an angry and jealous one. The prospect of her killing Rowan was heavy on Sophie’s mind.
“I’ll be alright. Don’t worry about me,” Rowan whispered, locking eyes with her.
“Don’t read my mind.”
“I didn’t,” he said as the door swung open. Rowan’s face shifted from being serious to a calm grin as he greeted Sarah with a customary kiss on the hand. “Good evening, Sarah. You’re well, I assume?”
“Of course, Rowan. Samiell is waiting for you in the study. Come with me, Sophie, and we’ll get you settled in,” Sarah said, gesturing toward the stairs.
Rowan didn’t look back as he ascended to the second floor and turned toward the study, but he could hear Sarah lead Sophie the opposite direction down another hall. Inside the study, Samiell sat by the fire, sipping tea. Rowan rapped his knuckles on the door frame and Samiell waved him in.
“Come, Rowan. There’s much to discuss,” Samiell said, without a hint of his usual mirth.
The fire was warm on Rowan’s skin as he joined the Notary in the little sitting area, ignoring the tea Sarah had set out for him.
“I’m sorry about all of this, Samiell.”
“Don’t worry yourself about it, Rowan. I think having a couple of youngsters here might do me some good. This house is far too big for just Sarah and me. But anyway, as you know, I was supposed to receive Ivanka’s journals some time ago. I had intended to report anything to you that might be of any consequence, but as I read them through nothing stood out to me. Mind you, it didn’t take long to read them. She was relatively young; only Turned for about a decade. I’m certain I didn’t miss anything.”
“Were you able to learn nothing from them at all?” Rowan asked.
“It doesn’t matter. Joramir called me right after you did earlier. They found Ivanka’s body in upstate New York. They don’t think she was killed there but they also don’t know who would have killed her or how she was transported.” Samiell leaned forward in his chair. “I must agree with your earlier statement. Something big is going on. Someone killed Ivanka and disguised themselves as her to hide their identity. I don’t know why yet but it seems obvious that you and Matthias are targets, for whatever reason.”
Rowan sat in silence, a chill prickling his skin. No longer did he feel the warmth of the fire, but instead a cold dread of the unknown. “I can’t believe she’s been dead the whole time, but I do believe that whomever stole her identity did so because they know us personally.”
“Seems to be the case,” Samiell said, sinking back into his chair.
“I want to say it’s Yvette.”
“Oh?”
“She’s been tormenting me since she arrived, and it seems she has Sophie in her sights.”
“And yet you hesitate to say she’s responsible?”
“I hate to say, but yes. I have no idea what she wants from me yet but jealousy is no doubt her motive for wanting Sophie out of the way. Matthias being involved is what’s throwing me off. I can’t think of any reason she would want him dead. I’m compelled to say that whomever this is, wants revenge on Matthias.”
“I don’t think we should bet all of our money on the revenge horse just yet. Matthias has never traveled outside of the city, and this Turned is well-traveled. Well enough, anyway, to have murdered Ivanka half way across the country. They possibly even killed Ivanka for the sole purpose of obtaining her identification card.”
“But why?” Rowan asked, no longer able to stay in his seat. He paced before the fire, chewing the pad of his thumb when Sarah entered, bearing fresh scones. She set down the tray and began to leave, when Rowan stopped her. “Sarah.”
“Yes?”
“If you were Turned and you wanted someone dead, how would you do it?”
“Well...knowing how the Elder Council works and their strict rules about a Turned killing their kinsmen, I would probably try to m
ake it where the murder couldn’t be traced back to me. Same basic principles used by humans. They don’t want to be caught by their authorities, either.”
“True, but why Ivanka?”
“The killer probably knew her. Hunting a random Turned would be too troublesome, especially if it was just to procure an ID card. I would probably pick someone I know, but don’t like. I might wait until she was vulnerable and strike at her weakest moment. Maybe I need her ID because I’m a Rogue and I need it to enter the city?”
“No, Rogues enter by far cleverer and less complicated means all the time. And I saw this woman, this Ivanka, right here in my study when she requested to enter New Orleans,” Samiell said.
“It wasn’t done because they had to. It was done because they wanted to. They wanted to stand right under your nose and get away with it. I’m certain we’re dealing with a shape-shifter,” Rowan said, causing the others to stop and stare at him. “The killer is a shape-shifter. They have to be if they stood in this room as Ivanka, a lady that was days deceased by that time.”
“Such a rare talent,” Samiell stated. “But there is no other explanation. I think we’re looking for a Turned who comes here often. Someone who doesn’t want their permission to enter to be revoked. I would almost bet they did know Ivanka, and they did kill her for her ID, but not for the purpose of using it to enter the city. I think you’re right, Rowan. The killer wanted to test their disguise. Wanted to show what they could do. I said that Ivanka had never been to New Orleans before, not legally anyway, and that was the red flag. Her presence stood out to us when none other did because she was a stranger. This goes deeper than I expected.”
Rowan dismissed Sarah and she left without another word. He began his pacing again, trying to sort out the mess in his head.
“We don’t have time to go through this tonight. The sun will rise soon, and this old man is tired. You seem tired, too. Would you like to stay here for the day?” Samiell offered.
“Thank you, but I must decline. Yvette will be home, waiting on me no doubt. If I stay here she might get angry and do something unsavory.”
“Ah, I almost forgot. The Elders responded to my request about Sophie’s attack. Sadly, their hands are tied. It’s not illegal to feed from prey without healing the wounds and since she didn’t kill Sophie, the most they’re willing to do is issue Yvette a warning for the safety of our kind. They aren’t pleased that she did what she did and now another human knows about us, but they also aren’t overly concerned. I’m sorry. If it was up to me, she’d be a Rogue already.”
“I understand. It doesn’t make it any easier, but there’s nothing I can do.”
“Have you told Sophie that she must go?”
“No. There hasn’t been a good time for it.”
“Perhaps it’s for the best that you do it soon. With Yvette and all.”
Rowan didn’t want to hear it. He turned his back on Samiell and slipped into his coat.
“Be careful Rowan. Between Yvette and whoever is pulling the strings in this case, you need to be vigilant,” Samiell warned.
“Of course,” Rowan replied, leaving without a second look back. The Notary was right. Things were nearing their boiling point, he could feel it in his bones. Something was about to happen, and he needed to be ready.
42
Rowan took the long way home, parking his car and taking a walk around Jackson Square before backtracking to walk along the river as he had done countless times before.
The early morning was mild, warmer than it had been in weeks. It was more normal for that of year and Rowan was glad for it, but only as a side thought. The lapping of water on the riverbank, the chattering of humans that he passed, music from somewhere in the Quarter, all faded to nothing as his thoughts wandered between clues they had found. So much of it made sense, so much of the puzzle fit together, and yet there seemed to be a big piece right in the middle that they couldn’t find; who?
Who would go through all the trouble to get to them? The police were stuck looking for Ivanka, that much he knew, but if they had any ideas as to where to find them was unknown. The real Ivanka was dead and he wondered if it would be prudent to alert them to that fact, but his dislike of Walker was enough for him to decide that they could figure it out on their own.
He would rather find the killer himself—if the Elders let him. They were beginning to doubt his abilities to lead the Quarter. Finding the murderer was imperative to restoring their faith in him. Losing his territory would mean being demoted back to a Lesser and that was a hit Rowan’s pride couldn’t take. He had worked too hard to be respected by his peers to give it all up.
Rowan’s pace slowed as he neared his home. It had taken a long time to reach his doorstep, but he still wasn’t ready for what waited on the other side. He turned his key in the lock and stepped into the foyer. All was quiet and cold in the house but the fireplace in the living room was glowing with embers.
Yvette was there. Rowan could feel her. Feel her control over him tighten, sucking the color out of his world and made him crave her in a way that was not natural. His mind couldn’t fight back against it and he found himself climbing the stairs.
On the landing he paused, looking back toward Sophie’s room. She had left the door open and he caught the faint scent of her from across the landing, but it was already fading. Soon there would be no trace of her at all…or of Matthias, for that matter. Internally he struggling to free itself from Yvette’s powers and force her to leave, but he was simply too tired, and she was too powerful.
In his room, Yvette had made herself comfortable. She lay across his bed in her silk kimono, watching him with a sly smirk when he entered. She propped herself up onto her elbows, her eyes locked on him as he stood before his mirror on the opposite side of the room and began to unbutton his shirt. He could feel her gaze on him but he dared not turn to look at her.
“I see we have the house to ourselves?” Yvette asked.
“So it would seem,” Rowan replied dryly, hurrying to get in the shower. He locked the door behind him, knowing it was in vain. If she wanted in, a simple lock wouldn’t stop her. Still, it was a small way he could show his true feelings toward her and he hoped she got the point.
Yvette glared at the door before rolling onto her back. If only he knew that his precious Pupil was unconscious behind a dumpster and his human pet would soon be gone. She opened her bag on the bedside table and removed her journal and pen. Rowan turned on the shower and Yvette wrote.
It would seem the human girl is gone for now. I know Rowan is hiding her from me. Little does he know that I am already aware of where he’s stashed her. What a game of cat and mouse we have here. How delightful.
The house is calm, quiet, and yet there is tension. That was expected. It will eventually fade when Rowan remembers what it was like to be with me of his own accord. Right now, I have to put so much energy into him, but soon he will drift back to me on his own.
I feel a little silly recounting this to myself, but I remember the night I met Rowan. I had decided to put everything on the line to feel what it was like to live beyond my means for one night. I stole my mistress’s blue gown. There was nothing wrong with it, but she complained it was old and out of style. I recall she refused to wear it to the masquerade that night, and so I took it. It fit so perfectly, I felt like Cinderella. For one night I was free to dance and eat and drink as I pleased. Everything was going so well, and then I saw him. Even from across the room he stopped me dead in my tracks. The silver mask he wore was a thin disguise for a beast that was obviously on the prowl.
I watched him for a time as he danced through lines of women. Each step he took was easy and perfect. He never looked to the floor, or even to the room around him. Instead, his eyes seemed to shift from one lady to the next, and all I wanted was for those eyes to be on me.
Never in a million years had I thought he would spare me a glance, but when my turn came around to dance with him, I felt something dee
p down. I’m sure he felt it, too. Something drew us together: fate, destiny, call it what you will. I knew then that the universe had something much bigger planned for us.
Rowan knew it back then. He knew every move we had made led us to that point, and I know he must still see that. Surely time hasn’t changed that much for him. No, I do believe that somewhere down deep he feels that pull of fate that binds us together.
Yvette quickly stashed the journal when she heard the water turn off. She leaned against the pillows as Rowan stepped from the steaming bathroom in a black towel. He glared at her before opening the wardrobe. Why did he resist her?
She tilted her head. From across the room she noticed his eyes weren’t as dark as they normally were. He wasn’t feeding properly. There was a time he enjoyed the hunt, but it was obvious that had changed. Once upon a time he had hunted for the pleasure of it, not just to survive. Something inside him had died and Yvette was becoming aware of it.
Slowly, he made his way around the room, blowing out the candles. Yvette took in every move, focusing on the reflection of the flame in his eyes and the gentle pucker of his lips as he forced out the air to extinguish the flames. She smiled, scraping her teeth on her lower lip. He had always been beautiful, but there was something different about him currently that attracted her even more; there was a weakness about him that she could use against him. He had little desire to keep going, and yet, he did. She found it intriguing.
Quietly, Rowan slipped into bed, keeping his back to her. His muscles tensed when she touched him, her slender fingers tracing shapes along his shoulder, then to his neck where she slid a nail under the silver chain as she had done earlier in the restaurant.