by E. A. Copen
Cynthia got out when the car stopped. A young man emerged from the mansion and jogged down the stairs two at a time. Marcus opened the door and tossed the keys to the Rat him before coming around to the front of the car. Before he could open my door for me, I did it myself and slammed it closed. Marcus offered me his arm, but again, I refused it and crossed my arms over my chest. He shrugged as if it didn’t bother him and went to join Cynthia. I followed.
Cynthia, who I had begun to imagine might fill more functions for Marcus than just answering his phones and emails, waited at the top of the stairs. She adjusted her glasses, the lenses catching sheen from the porch light. When we approached, it was she who showed us inside.
My footsteps echoed across the polished marble floor. The foyer had a high, vaulted ceiling that stretched to the second floor. A single staircase spiraled down from upstairs, and a railing ran around the edge of a hall with brightly colored doors. The fountain and lush green trees under a skylight completed the illusion that I’d stepped into an oasis instead of a foyer. It was pretty, but I wasn’t detecting any of the usual signs of a haunting or a presence of any kind. If there were ghosts in the house, maybe they were elsewhere.
I turned when I felt Marcus’ eyes on me. He waited next to a door, holding it open. As I stepped through into the room beyond him, I passed through a veil of power like the one I’d felt at Diabla’s. In fact, the same energy buzzed around me. These wards, however, served more to welcome guests and ease them into a false sense of security than to make them uneasy like the wards at the roadhouse. The undercurrent of the magick still had the same, dark, smoky feel and smelled faintly of black licorice. Whoever had put the wards up at the roadhouse had also put these in place.
Once I passed through the doorway, a calmness settled over me that only intensified when Marcus put a hand on my bare shoulder. I was suddenly more aware than ever that I’d only slept a few precious hours the night before. The polished surface of the dining table in the center of the room looked like a good place to lay my head and catch up on all that missed sleep. Someone had been thoughtful enough to fold the napkins so they looked like tiny pillows. I shook my head to clear it. The fog lifted only a little until I pushed it back with magick. Even then, I wasn’t completely clear-headed. I was sure I’d come into the dining room for a reason other than a nap, but I couldn’t remember what it was. The thought drifted just out of my reach, and I was content to let it stay there.
Marcus ran his fingers down my arm to grasp my hand. I watched his fingers with distant interest. Wherever they traveled, skin over skin, he left a small tingle behind. “What do you say we get our game started?” He lifted my hand toward his mouth.
There was a reason I wasn’t supposed to let him do that, but it seemed so far away, so silly. Why had I ever been afraid of him? After all, he hadn’t been anything but the perfect gentleman with me. In fact, hadn’t he been more pleasant than some of the other men I chose to spend time with? There didn’t seem any harm in letting him continue. Despite that, a small warning pounded away in the back of my mind. I struggled against it, calling it nerves.
It wasn’t until I saw Marcus’ fangs that the fog lifted, and I snapped back into control over my body against screaming alarm bells in my head. I jerked my hand away, balled it into a fist, and punched Marcus in the face.
Punching a vampire is a lot like punching a tree. They can take more damage than most, they don’t move, and it usually doesn’t register. But I’d caught Marcus by surprise when I made contact with his jaw. His head jerked to the side and he blinked, dazed.
“If you ever try that bullshit with me again,” I spat at him, “it’ll be more than a fist, and it won’t be your face.”
He flexed his jaw and wiped a hand across his lower lip to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. Then he grinned like a fox. “You never cease to amaze me. I didn’t expect you to break my hold so easily. I won’t make that mistake twice.” He flicked his wrist over and I flinched, but the move hadn’t been an attack. Marcus had produced a pocketknife from somewhere and opened it to draw the blade over the inside of his thumb. Blood welled up where he’d cut himself, too pale to be human. He held the knife out to me. When I didn’t take it, he said, “If you want to continue, you promised me your oath.”
I frowned and plucked the knife from between his fingers, careful not to initiate any skin to skin contact. After cleaning the blade on one of the napkins I grabbed from the table, I made a small cut on the end of my thumb just as he’d done.
“I swear to agree by the terms laid forth in the car earlier,” Marcus said. “I will answer your questions. I will give you full truth in my responses. You will do the same. When my obligations are met, you and I will part ways unharmed.” He held his hand out to me.
“Ditto,” I answered, and we shook on it.
The familiar buzz of power snapped up around us as we formalized the agreement. I still didn’t let my hand linger in his.
It wasn’t until we retreated to the table that I even remembered Cynthia was with us. She had a penchant for fading into the background, one I was suspicious of. There are people who can do that kind of thing naturally. More often, it’s a learned talent. A magickal talent. With all the other magick buzzing around the room, though, I couldn’t tell if she was doing something or not. Maybe she really was that boring of a person. I doubted it. Marcus didn’t attract boring people.
Marcus took his seat at the head of the table only after pulling out my chair for me, the one on his right, and helping Cynthia into hers on his left. The moment we were seated, a set of double doors behind Marcus opened and three waiters entered, each bearing a white tray that they sat in the center of the table. They lifted the coverings over each tray simultaneously. I wouldn’t call what was underneath the lid food. I’d call it art.
Sushi is always a colorful food, but I’d never seen it presented to look like dragons, koi fish, pandas, or other animals. One tray they brought out later had been done up to look like a peacock. The displays were so impressive, I almost felt guilty about eating them. Almost. Then my stomach reminded me how much effort it took to perform even simple spells like the oath and whatever I’d done to break Marcus’ hold on me. It growled impatiently.
Marcus waited until both Cynthia and I had selected a few pieces before getting anything for himself. I waited until he was chewing on the first piece to ask my first question.
“Why are you so interested in Mia?”
He chewed thoughtfully and cocked his head to the side after swallowing. “That’s not a very useful question,” he said, his voice pouty.
“I asked it just the same, and you promised to answer.”
He sat back, sighed, and fidgeted with the cloth napkin, considering his answer. “Andre LeDuc was a geneticist who once showed great promise. Much of the technology BSI uses to identify supernaturals today is based on work he once completed for me. But eugenics was always his interest. The ability to control genetics and improve species by splicing bits of DNA together in favor of perfection is what drove his curiosity. In theory, his science was essential to understanding how populations of supernaturals grow and change over time on a micro-evolutionary scale. It couldn’t be tested. No ethics board in the country would have allowed it, and that’s what drove him rogue.”
He took up his sweating glass of water and sipped at it, grimacing as he put it down. “But as you know, Andre didn’t care much for ethics boards and decided he would do it anyway. Mia is the result of a very expensive amount of research that Fitz Pharmaceuticals lost. When he created Mia, using the genetic material Zoe provided, he created a once in a lifetime opportunity to study a perfect organism. Where once we had to guess with mice or worthless lumps of cells, Mia was an opportunity to learn. Medical science can use her to grow leaps and bounds. Medicine for werewolves could advance as much as fifty years.”
My fingers tightened around the tablecloth. “She’s a little girl.”
“Yes,” Marcus
agreed, his tone grave. “A little girl who was given an unfortunate gift. The mysteries in her genetic code could save hundreds of thousands over the course of her lifetime. Unfortunately, the cost is her captivity. Now we come to my first question, Judah. You object to her treatment. That much is obvious. You think Han and I are monsters for exploiting a child. Tell me, would BSI not have done the same, if not worse?”
I stared at the sushi on my plate, which I hadn’t even touched yet. My stomach rebelled at the idea of putting anything in it. I didn’t know what BSI would do with Mia if they got their hands on her, but I knew it wouldn’t be good. I imagined her in a room with wires and tubes coming out of her, alone and afraid while agents stood on the other side of a one-way mirror taking notes. Their instructor droned on and on about the subject, reducing her to lab rat status. He spoke of the things BSI had done, new techniques for stopping and subduing out-of-control werewolves, techniques tested first on Mia.
I closed my eyes and turned my head away. “It doesn’t make it right, no matter who hurts her.”
“Maybe so, but you have failed to answer my question, Judah. Would your employer not have also carried out tests on her? The only difference is that I would use her to save lives rather than end them.”
“Yes,” I admitted through gritted teeth. The anger in my voice made even Cynthia look up and take notice. “BSI wouldn’t have been kind to her either.”
Marcus leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hand. “Which brings me to my second question. You know BSI is corrupt. You’ve done everything in your power to circumvent many of the laws you disagree with, going so far as to bend many and even outright break a few. If you disagree so strongly with how BSI handles things, why do you stay with them?”
I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. It was a good question, and one I wasn’t sure I had the answer to. BSI did a lot of good. There were parts of the organization that improved people’s lives by exposing ignorance and training people, matching kids with mentors. The registration, the tracking, the breeding permits, and tight control, these were problematic. BSI broke up families. They fined or imprisoned people for nothing more than having children without a permit. BSI was fear and prejudice, given the people’s blessing to operate at the federal level. Legislation introduced from a position of fear or misinformation rarely ever did good things for a country. Hitler rose to power by manipulating fear and the flow of information.
I’d promised to answer, so I settled on the honest one. “I don’t know. What else would I do? If I quit, they’d just send someone else. They might even kill me.”
An amused sparkle lit his eyes. “Kill you? That’s interesting.”
“I don’t know about you, but I’ve never met a retired BSI agent.” He started to speak, but I cut him off. “My turn. Have there been any unnatural or violent deaths in this house?”
Again, I’d asked a stupid question, and I realized that as soon as Marcus smiled. “You mean, have I fucked anyone to death recently?”
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
He sighed. “I am a Succubine vampire, Judah, with two children to feed. I have lived in this house for a very long time. Self-control takes decades to master fully. I have killed. Because I value my freedom, I won’t tell you who, when, or where I have found my victims, but there is an old saying. ‘Don’t shit where you eat.’”
“Tell me how your wife died, then.”
Marcus’ face soured, and he flashed his fangs at me. I smiled just a little, knowing I’d touched a nerve.
The matter of Mrs. Kelley’s death wasn’t public record. I knew because I’d looked into it and found that Marcus had worked very hard to keep that information confidential. It had happened just prior to the revelation, and so, he wasn’t obligated to divulge that information to BSI. Her disappearance wasn’t limited to BSI records. Everything about her had been removed from local records. I didn’t even know her name.
I hadn’t phrased it as a question, though, since I only had one left, so he wasn’t obligated to answer me either. The question had served its purpose, so I decided it was time to use up my last question.
“Would you be willing to give me a tour of the house?” I asked. “I’d like to search for residual energies. Mia’s bedroom or the room where she had her first seizure would be helpful.”
Marcus pushed his plate away. “I do not give personal tours of my home. However, Cynthia can show you to the study where Mia had her first fit and Mia’s bedroom. I have other business.”
I looked at Cynthia. She’d finished her plate of sushi and let the chopsticks rest calmly on the edge of her plate while she sipped at her water.
“Well, then,” I said, standing.
“Just a moment,” Marcus snapped in a tone that commanded my attention. “You owe me one more answer. Just how did you break my hold over you earlier?” When I didn’t immediately answer, he tilted his head to one side. “You’re human. No human who was not under the protection of another vampire has ever resisted me like that. You’ve not been marked by another. I should have been able to take you, especially in here.” His voice wasn’t angry but on the verge of a purr. If snakes could purr, I imagined that was what they’d sound like.
I didn’t have an answer for that question either, but if I said I didn’t know, I was afraid of what Marcus would do to find out.
I shrugged. “It wasn’t anything I did, at least not that I’m aware of.”
“Curiouser and curiouser.” He sat back. “Oh, well. Nothing like a good mystery, as they say. Cynthia, please show Judah around. And remember, she is our guest.”
Cynthia rose and went to the door. “This way.”
Cynthia led me out the door and back into the main room, where she gestured toward the hall to the left of the front door. I went on ahead a few steps, but she caught up quickly and kept an even pace with me, eyes glued forward. As we walked, I paid less attention to my surroundings than to her.
The delicate appearance I’d noticed at first was a ruse. She organized every part of Marcus’ life and kept him on schedule. A delicate woman never would have been able to keep a vampire on track, let alone speak to him with confidence. I couldn’t get a feel for her, which was odd. I’m normally good at judging people by their auras, even on a first meeting. Cynthia’s aura was as tight-lipped as her face. It didn’t ebb and flow like every other aura I’d seen, and it didn’t show any damage. Almost everyone had damage to their aura from some traumatic event or another. Hers was so perfect, it didn’t even look real.
We reached the end of the hall, where a set of oak doors waited. She pulled them open and gestured into the room beyond. “She took first ill in the Master’s study. She and her mother were having tea while I went over the week’s appointments with Marcus.”
“You spend a lot of time with Marcus outside the office?”
She wore a mask of boredom. “We go over schedules on Sunday afternoons. Marcus and I do not have a relationship outside of work.”
“Master Marcus.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Excuse me?”
“You mean Master Marcus. That’s what everyone else calls him. I know he prefers it, but I’m sure you knew that, being his secretary and all.”
She stuck out her bottom lip. “Personal assistant.”
“My mistake. I’ll need the room to myself. If anyone else is in here with me, it will mess up the read.”
“As you wish.”
I stepped in, and she closed the doors behind me. The tell-tale click of a lock turning echoed after the doors latched. Guess he doesn’t want me wandering around, I thought and turned to examine the contents of the room.
It looked like a typical rich person’s lounge. High-backed couches with overstuffed, velvet upholstery and scrolled arms formed a U-shape on a Persian rug. A billiard table sat on the other side of that. To my left was a desk of cherrywood, decorated with an array of office supplies and a desk lamp. Crystal chandeliers hung fro
m the ceiling like cocoons waiting to open. In the center of the room on the wall opposite where I stood, a fireplace waited, cold and empty.
The painting above the fireplace drew my eyes after my first scan of the room. It was massive, stretching from the mantle to the ceiling. The woman in the painting was stunning enough to support such a grandiose piece of art. She was slight and of Asian descent, her dark hair pulled up into one of those braided buns that were popular in the Victorian period. Everything else about her fit the same era, from the white lace collar that covered her throat to the puffy sleeves. The artist had captured her with an enraptured smile and a black butterfly perched on her finger.
A chill ran down my spine when I realized I’d seen her face before. A slightly deader version of it had been staring at me in the hospital. The chill didn’t fade as the realization sank in, and suddenly, my teeth were chattering. Breath came out of me in tiny, strained wisps of cloud. The hair on the back of my neck and arms stood on end and lightning tore through my brain, screaming, “DANGER!”
I turned around anyway.
She was floating near the door half a dozen paces behind me and paying me no mind. To her right, a pair of velvet chairs faced a small table where a silver tray bearing a porcelain tea pot waited. If I’d known who she was for certain, I would have addressed her by name. Names have power in the supernatural world. Addressing a spirit by its True Name would give me a lot more command power than what I said.
“Hey, you!”
The apparition turned her head without the use of her neck, eyes burning white. Well, I had her attention. Now what?
She must have recognized me from the hospital, even though she hadn’t interacted with me there. Her dead eyes went wide, and she let out another banshee screech before moving in a blur toward me. She hit me like a truck. I swear I felt my ribcage move when she slammed into it, not something I would have expected from a spirit. The force was enough to knock me over, and I sailed into one of the two chairs near her. She went with me.