"Have your forensics people released anything yet on their tissue analysis?" Mona asked Laronda.
"Only that the tissue has the same sort of decay that normal, dead tissue exhibits."
"Only this isn't normal, dead tissue."
"Yep. They're scratching their heads, only they won't admit it. They just say more testing has to be done."
"Do the tissue samples reanimate?" Lance asked.
"Not that they've seen. I think it's the standard brain connection with the rest of the body," Del replied. "Although they're studying the brain tissue, too, with the same results."
"So it has to be an intact brain and body?" Mona made a face as she considered her words.
"It looks mostly that way for now—Arianne almost decapitated the one who broke her door down. He didn't let up at the morgue until his head was severed completely. Still don't know yet about missing limbs affecting anything."
"Please, don't spoil dinner," Lance complained.
"We can discuss this later," Del said as the bartender placed a double Scotch in front of him. "How's the kid doing?" he asked when the young man walked away.
"The kid is fine. Ari made a blunder, though, according to Aunt Janie," Mona answered.
"What happened?"
"She tore the rearview mirror and a windshield wiper off the dumb neighbor's truck and left some pretty big scratches in his compensating-for-small-equipment vehicle."
"She turned? In front of him?" Laronda almost dropped her water glass.
"No. Just came running out of nowhere when the fool threatened Val."
"After Val refused the check Denton Franks offered to pay for Val's prize heifer that Denton's asshat father shot the night before—on Val's property. Val told him to leave. Denton wanted to argue. Enter a full-grown, pissed-off mountain lion," Lance took up the story.
"Has the Sheriff been called?"
"The night it happened. Denton says his father's senile and didn't know a half-grown heifer from a deer—across a fence and on somebody else's property," Mona huffed. "That man doesn't need guns within reach, sounds like."
"Mitchell Franks hasn't endeared himself to anyone in our family, and he's certainly got history with Ari's."
"In what way?" Laronda asked.
"Mitchell Franks used to hunt game, not only in Texas but across the country and even in a few foreign ones. Used to get his name and picture in the newspaper regularly for it, too. Uncle Brett started losing calves one season. He knew it was a big cat of some kind—probably a bobcat, although the tracks were pretty big. He and his ranch hands could never get close enough to kill it, so he hired Mitchell. Told him to come out on a specific date to look for the culprit. That date happened to be the day after a full moon. Mitchell jumped the gun, went hunting the night of the full moon and shot Ari's father, who had permission to be where he was that night."
"Not only was his picture in the paper, he had the head and the pelt of his kill in it with him. As you can imagine, Ari and her mother were devastated. Mountain lion shifters aren't that common," Mona sighed. "It was a big mess for the family. We offered compensation; Ari's mother refused it. Ari's hated Mitchell Franks all this time. She figures it put her mother in an early grave, too. Aunt Janie explained it all to us—after we took Ari and Nico to the ranch."
"You didn't know until then?"
"Nope."
The server was back, bearing a huge tray and a tray stand. Setting the stand and tray down, she placed steaks in front of the proper guests, all of them sizzling hot and fresh off the grill.
"This smells heavenly," Laronda sniffed in appreciation. "Thank you."
"Is there anything else I can get for you?" the server asked.
"I'd like a glass of pinot noir," Mona said.
"Do you have a preference?"
"Bartender's choice," Mona replied.
"Anyone else?" she asked as she lifted the tray and stand.
"I think we're good," Lance smiled at her. "Thanks."
"I always wondered how that sort of thing was handled," Del went back to the previous discussion as he cut into his steak.
"It's not always handled that way," Laronda said.
"We won't tell you, so you can maintain plausible deniability," Mona pointed a fork at him. "A lot depends on who's in charge at the time."
"Are you saying that Mitchell Franks is lucky to be old enough to turn senile?"
"Maybe. Who wants to know?"
"You know—I'm on Ari's side in this," Del shook his head. "People can be too stupid to live, sometimes."
"Except he did. Live, that is," Mona said. "My steak's good. How's yours?"
"Mine is more than acceptable," Laronda said, cutting another piece.
"We have a message," Claudio breathed as he turned on the burner phone. "Let's hope it's authentic."
"Shall we check the number, Master Scholar?" Alejandro waved a tablet, waiting for Claudio's command to search the source.
"Yes. Here it is," Claudio showed the phone to his younger guard, who had the number tapped in in a matter of seconds.
"Ah. This is strange," Alejandro's brow wrinkled in an uncharacteristic facial expression.
"What is strange?" Claudio asked immediately.
"The number. It's listed to someone that the police have reported as deceased."
"Let me see," Claudio held out a hand. Alejandro set the tablet in Claudio's grasp, so the Master Scholar could see for himself.
"This is the son of the restaurant owners—the restaurant that was bombed?"
"Yes, Master Scholar."
"Well, then. Before we listen to the message, which could be a trap, we will investigate this bombing."
"Of course, Master Scholar." Renault, who'd remained silent until now, agreed with Claudio's assessment. "Should I bring the car, or will you be doing research from here tonight?"
"I'd like to speak with the lead detective on the case," Claudio replied. "Once we find him, we shall ask questions."
"We will find him quickly, then," Renault responded.
"His name is Lance Elliott," Alejandro informed Claudio. "Shall I find his number?"
"Yes. I wish to speak with him very soon. Time grows short I fear, and this may already be spiraling out of our control."
"I have his number, from the Council database," Alejandro said, after only a few moments passed.
"Call the number. Tell him we have information and are willing to meet with him in a public place."
"Of course." Alejandro lifted another burner phone and dialed Lance's number. It was answered on the second ring.
"Detective Elliott," came the answer—more than audible to all three vampires listening in.
"Detective Elliott? This is Reynaldo Alverez, from Grand Prairie," Alejandro gave an assumed name and hometown. "I have information on the Blue Taco restaurant bombing, if you are interested." Alejandro's voice was smooth, with only a hint of a Spanish accent.
"I'd be willing to listen," Detective Elliott replied after a few seconds passed. "Can you meet me at the police station?"
"I would prefer to meet in a public venue," Alejandro said. "Your choice, of course."
"I'm at a restaurant at the moment," Elliott said, intending to say more before Alejandro cut him off.
"I can meet you there," Alejandro offered.
"It's downtown Dallas, and I have three officers with me."
"That will not be a problem. Tell me where to meet you, and I will bring the information."
"Can you tell me a little beforehand, just to let me know you actually have the information you say?"
"Of course. This bombing—and the disease which appears to bring the dead back to life—are connected. Now are you willing to meet with me?"
"Yes. How soon can you get here? No weapons—I'm warning you now. All of us are armed, as a precaution."
"I understand this. I will carry no weapons upon my person."
"Good. Meet me at the Cow's Nest restaurant, on Breaker Street."
"I will be there within an hour."
"I'll be waiting." Elliott hung up first.
"He will search for the name you gave immediately," Claudio smiled and steepled his fingers. "Alejandro, you are an asset of the highest order, to create aliases for all of us."
"I couldn't do it without the Council's assistance," Alejandro shrugged. "They make it all appear legitimate you know."
"Bring the car, Renault," Claudio said. "With your memories and Alejandro's expertise with electronics, we will solve this mystery very soon."
"Belwether, we need some plain-clothes officers at the Cow's Nest in the next hour," Lance spoke into his phone. "Someone who says he has information on the bombing is meeting me here."
"I'll send two cars out," Belwether said. "I may come myself—I haven't had dinner, yet."
"Steak's good tonight," Lance said before ending the call.
"This is what I found—he has a Facebook account, is on Twitter—appears to be a Rangers fan." Mona turned her phone so Lance could see what she'd pulled up on Reynaldo Alvarez from Grand Prairie, a city located between Dallas and Fort Worth. "Owns a tire and battery place."
"Anyone want dessert while we wait for the informant and our backup to arrive?" Mona asked.
"I want chocolate cake," Laronda said. "Today is the day for chocolate."
"I'm with you," Mona agreed.
Half an hour later, while he was sipping a cup of coffee after dessert, Lance watched Belwether stroll into the restaurant, dressed casually in slacks and a polo. Sidling up to the bar, the Captain accepted a menu from the bartender and looked through the selections while keeping a discreet eye on the door.
Lance's back was to the door, so Laronda and Del were watching the entrance for him. "Three walking in," Del reported as the door opened.
Could my informant have company? Lance fought the urge to turn around.
"Walking this way," Del mumbled, toying with his coffee cup.
Laronda drew in a deep breath before gripping the table hard and appearing to panic. "Vampires!" she hissed, causing Lance's heart to stutter in his chest.
Chapter Seven
"Will it help if we offer the standard, we mean you no harm?" Claudio asked as Alejandro pulled up chairs for the Master Scholar, Renault and himself at Lance's table. Laronda and Del had moved to a nearby table after Renault politely asked them to do so.
Laronda still stared at the three vamps with wide eyes, however, so the compulsion hadn't been meant as anything other than a request with a small amount of persuasion.
Lance understood compulsion, although he'd never seen it until now. "How do you know anything about the bombing?" Lance began uncomfortably. "I suspect none of you actually live in Texas."
"I reside in Oklahoma," Claudio said. "You are quite correct. What you don't know is this—the bombing may only be the beginning of many things, most of which will be far, far worse than these death walkers."
"What can be worse than that?" Mona asked.
"Do you have a strong grasp of European history? I am Claudio, of the Septum Scholarium. I suspect you have no idea what that means, eh?"
"Septum—seven," Mona said, pretending indifference. "Scholarium? School—or scholar, maybe?"
"Yes, very good," Claudio nodded at her. "Since your colleague at the other table named us as what we are, we assume you also know what she is?"
"We do," Lance admitted.
"Good. This is far better than I hoped. May I ask how you know this?"
"Well, she told us," Lance said, working to keep his hands and his voice even. For his first meeting with a vampire, he felt he was doing well enough so far.
"Shapeshifters must trust before they reveal," Claudio pointed out.
"We ah, have family who are also, well," Lance didn't finish.
"You are half." Claudio stated flatly.
"Yes. Nobody else knows, not even our captain," Mona said.
"You are related?" Claudio looked from Mona to Lance.
"Yes. Cousins."
"I see. Now, tell me about the boy."
"Boy?"
"Did he survive the bombing? Much depends upon your answer, and the truthfulness of it."
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because we are in a position to help him."
"How?"
"If he is alive, he is in grave danger from terrible enemies—the ones responsible for the bombing and the walking death now plaguing this state."
"You're saying the vamps want to protect a human?" Mona didn't bother hiding her skepticism.
"I understand that you may not believe this. You would be very wrong," Claudio said.
"Do not offend the Master Scholar," Renault growled.
"Threatening us is also offensive," Lance countered.
"I take it the boy is alive?"
"I didn't say that."
"How many officers are in this restaurant?" Alejandro asked. "I count five besides you and the two nearby, but my judgment could be off."
Lance swallowed hard. "Are you threatening all of us?" he asked.
"No. Not yet. You do not grasp the gravity of the situation. We must know if the boy is alive, that is all. If he is, that is the only information I need."
"Why go to all this trouble, then?" Mona asked.
"To make sure the one who called and left a message for me earlier is indeed Nicolas Garcia, rather than the enemy laying a trap for us. There is one more thing, however, if you don't mind."
"What's that?"
"Have you, by chance, seen the Eques Corax—the Raven Knight?"
I can't believe I'm driving vampires to my cousin's ranch. Lance's face was set as he drove along the highway toward the Jordan Ranch. Behind him, in Del's rental, Mona, Del and Laronda followed. He'd been ready for a standoff with his fanged guests until they mentioned Mac.
It wasn't until he dialed Nico's cell phone and Nico answered that he'd learned that Nico had, at Mac's urging, placed the call to Claudio the vampire earlier. Nico put Mac on the phone, Lance handed his phone to Claudio and the two—vampire and raven—had held a conversation in Spanish.
His Spanish was rusty, but he understood the word impenitente—it meant unrepentant. He hadn't asked Claudio what the significance of the word was, or how it was connected to what was happening, but felt he'd learn soon enough.
Not long before he reached the ranch, Val called.
"They can hear you," Lance said as he spoke to Val.
"I understand. I merely want a guarantee of safety for every living thing on this ranch."
"You have my word, as a member of the Scholarium," Claudio replied before Lance could relay the message. "If you have doubts, contact your Grand Master. He knows of us."
"You know what we are." Val said it flatly. Lance knew that tone. Val didn't like it one bit.
"Our Council has already contacted your Grand Master. He relayed to us that the Jordan Ranch may be considered a place of refuge, should we need it. It turns out that you have also become a refuge for those we seek to find. I have hopes that this proves advantageous for both our species."
"I did get a call from the Grand Master, but he was intentionally vague. Therefore, I'll be waiting for your explanation," Val gruffed and hung up.
"Well," Claudio sighed. "I suppose you would call that our Lucy, you got some 'splaining to do moment."
His quote, delivered in a creditable impression, was the last thing Lance expected any vampire to say.
It made him laugh.
"I can't believe you're not terrified of vampires," Ari stared at Nico.
"Ari, I've been having nightmares that are far worse than any vampire, I think." Nico's gaze was steady. He'd grown far older than his nineteen years in the space of a few days.
"I'm sorry, Nico. I just can't—wrap my head around this. That somehow, I'm tied up in all of it."
"You didn't expect to be involved in this train wreck," Nico nodded. "Neither did I."
"These. Vam-pires. F
riends," Mac croaked at Ari. "Not be. A-fraid."
"So you've met them before?" Ari snapped at Mac.
"No."
"Great." Ari stalked out of the media room, where Nico and Mac had retreated after dinner. There, they'd broken the news that she needed to meet the vampires, just as Nico and Mac did.
"She'll be back," Nico told Mac, who looked ready to fly after her. "She's my friend. Even if she doesn't come to trust these vampires, she'll stand with me in case I need protection. That's just the way she is."
"You. Don't. Know. That."
"She was ready to give her life when that monster broke into her house—to save us," Nico went on.
"I. Know."
"I saved her life and enslaved her at the same time. How do you explain that to a friend? She can't ever be the same again. Just like I can't." Nico's words were bitter.
"I. Know. Still. Have. Doubts. About her."
"Your visitors have arrived," Janie walked out of the elevator when the doors opened. "Want to ride down or walk?"
"Walk," Nico said, sounding weary as he rose from the chair beside the window. "Thank you, Janie. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable."
"Honey, we have to get this sorted, according to Lance and Mona. This is bigger than any of us thought, I imagine."
"It. Is." Mac concurred.
"Come on, Mac." Nico tapped his shoulder. "Let's go meet our vampire scholar."
Claudio stepped into the werewolf's home after Val invited him and his guards inside. Lance had gone in first, letting Val know right away that he was safe and unharmed.
"Your home is lovely," Claudio complimented Val.
"The boy and the raven are on their way. Ari is somewhere."
"Ari?"
"You'll know when you meet her," Lance said. "I'll go find her," he nodded to Val as Mona, Del and Laronda came inside.
"May get rain later, Mr. Jordan," Laronda said. "I smelled it when the wind changed direction."
"We could use some rain," Val told her. "Ponds are getting low."
"It will be a thunderstorm," Nico said as he walked in with Mac clinging to his shoulder.
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