by C. T. Phipps
Bryce shot her a look that was very un-trainee like. Cool, hard, and professional.
I ignored it. “What in the world makes you think I’m a vampire?”
Bryce pointed at me. “The soulless dead eyes, the pale skin, and pointy teeth!”
“I don’t have soulless dead eyes!” I said, offended. “Somebody give me a damned mirror! Wait, can we see ourselves in mirrors? I mean, can vampires?”
“You lose your reflection when you become an Old One,” Minji said. “So, I’m good for the next century or so. Arthur only changed me last month.”
Wait, Arthur changed her?
“Well, you and I can but you’re not a vampire,” Tracy said. “You’re like an artificial dhampyr.”
“Really, how the hell did that happen?” Minji said, shocked. “You better watch out. You’re like magical crack for the undead now. Any vampire who bites you probably won’t be able to stop.”
Tracy frowned. “Arthur can.”
“Arthur’s weird,” Minji said. “Also, you’re not his only slave girl so I don’t know why you care what I say about him.”
“Blood Servant, not slave,” Tracy said. “There’s a difference.”
“Sure there is,” Minji muttered.
“Who is his other slave girl?” I asked, appalled.
“Me!” Minji said. “He turned me to cure my cancer. Now I get to live forever and have sex with whoever I want! All for the price of the occasional threesome or foursome.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake. It was now a scientific fact that vampires could, if they felt sufficiently nauseated, want to throw up.
You’re not a vampire, Zadkiel said.
Do you have a cure for listening to your brother’s sex life?
Don’t? Zadkiel suggested.
I was starting to hate this sword.
Bryce raised a hand. “Okay, what’s going on and am I expected to pay for anything? I mean, I don’t—”
“I’m covering it,” Tracy said.
“Oh good!” Bryce said.
“Clearly that was the most important thing,” I muttered.
Alex explained. “Ashley used an angelic sword to drive off a group of cursed bank robbers who are trying to find the wand of a long-dead vampire magician. Except he’s not dead, just split into multiple pieces. They’re being manipulated by the Baron Family, local mobsters. Oh, and Ashley found her dead brother, who is a vampire now, and helped save her life but she’s a half-vampire now. We’re not sure why exactly.”
Bryce blinked. “Could you repeat everything after the word Ashley?”
“Wait,” I said, to Zadkiel. “I’ve got another vampire question. Am I supposed to be offended by God, Jesus, Buddha, Krishna, and Santa Claus references?”
“Ahhhhhh!” Minji said, covering her ears. “Please stop!”
Only the dead and damned must fear the names of the righteous, Zadkiel replied. You and Tracy remain among the living for now. Were you to die and become a true vampire, the blessed being invoked would drive you away.
“Like Johnny Cash?” I asked. “He’s pretty blessed.”
“Ow!” Minji said.
“Really?” I asked, surprised.
“Stop that,” Tracy said, grabbing my arm. “Minji is my friend…sort of.”
“This is amazing,” I said to Zadkiel.
Some blessings are unseen, others overt, Zadkiel replied.
“Is she talking to her sword?” Bryce asked.
“Yes,” Alex said.
“Okay,” Bryce said, accepting that. “So, we’re going to fight the Barons? Awesome. I wrote up a big profile on them for the police.”
I blinked as did everyone else.
“Why?” I asked.
“Uh, because threat assessment?” Bryce suggested. “You had a past relationship with a known mobster.”
“Oh, okay. Who told you to do that?” I asked. I knew almost nothing about Sophia’s family despite having dated her since, like most real-life mobsters, she knew to keep her mouth shut.
“Quincy,” Bryce said. “He said it was good for avoiding liability, whatever that means.”
I blinked. “Quincy was looking in on my love life and Jack let him?”
Bryce shrugged.
I’d have to talk to both about boundaries, even if I was grateful for the information now. “Spill.”
“You don’t think you should ask me?” Tracy asked.
Oh right, we had Saul Baron’s actual daughter here. “Never mind. Tracy, you should tell us what you know.”
Bryce deflated.
“Oh, go on,” Tracy said.
“Thank you!” Bryce smiled. “They’re a vampire lineage of necromancers dating back to the Bonfire of the Vanities in 1497. Friar Savonarola drove them out when he took over the city of Florence and drove them—”
“Firenze,” Tracy said, interrupting.
“What?” Bryce asked.
“It’s pronounced Firenze,” Tracy said. “Florence is an American woman’s name.”
Bryce blinked.
“A little later,” I said. “Maybe something from the current century?”
“Oh, well, they’re actually one of the early arrivals in America and were heavily involved in the slave trade before switching to bootlegging then back to human trafficking,” Bryce said.
“Lovely,” I said, disgusted.
“My family is a real bunch of winners,” Tracy said.
“I’m sorry,” Alex said.
“They were a fairly minor power in the city until they unexpectedly declared for the new government,” Bryce replied. “They’re supposedly decided from the vampire Nakoso, who dates back to Celtic Briton and was part of the corruption of the Pazzi family.”
“The Pizza family?” I asked.
“Pazzi,” Bryce said. “Traitors to the Medici?”
“She hasn’t played Assassins Creed 2,” Alex said.
“I started at Black Flag,” I said.
Bryce continued. “There’s something like a dozen vampires under their control and twice as many Blood Servants, mostly involved in either criminal activity or black magic. That’s in addition to having an alliance with an entire clan of ghouls. Maybe as many as a hundred. There’s Saul, his daughter Sophia, and his grandchild Andrea at the head of the vamily.”
“Vamily?” I asked.
“Vampire family,” Bryce said. “Neat, huh?”
“Sure,” I said. “So, do you know anything more than they’re a bunch of scary vampire gangsters with lots of allies?”
Bryce grimaced. “Not really.”
I was about to ask more from Tracy when my cellphone buzzed. Thankfully, they’d managed to save it. Checking the caller ID, I saw it was Jack. I wondered what he’d been up to throughout this nightmare.
“Hey, Jack,” I said. “I hope you’re having a better evening than I am.”
It wasn’t Jack.
“Hello, Ashley,” Sophia Baron spoke in a smooth Italian accent that covered up the fact I knew she sounded like she was from Jersey when she wasn’t putting it on.
“Hello, Sophia. Long time, no enslavement. I’d miss it, if you were here screwing with my brain making me. How’s Jack?”
I didn’t know how to respond to her. That she’d been screwing with me was a revelation. It didn’t change the fact that my emotions were still there, even if she made them up. It meant I hated her in addition to wanting her.
“Not well,” Sophia replied, her voice having more than a little sharp edge to it. It was almost as if she was haughty and scared somehow. “My men picked him up not long after you interfered with my acquisition of the Nakoso’s property. He put up a ferocious fight. I thought we could discuss it hours ago but you seem to have been reluctant to pick up your phone so I’ve been taking it out on him. Thankfully, he’s not dead. Yet.”
“That’s good, because it might keep me from killing you.” As usual, anger was my go-to response for emotional confusion. “So, what do you want really?”
/> “The girls didn’t return with the trunk,” Sophia said. “I assume that was your doing.”
She assumed wrong but I wasn’t going to tell her that.
“I want you to meet with me and it better be with the wand or Jack will die,” Sophia replied. “Meet me in half an hour at our spot.”
Our spot. That had been the bar where she’d found me trying to drink my remaining sanity away. It had since closed due to the fact the bar owner had been selling its more expendable patrons as meals. Peter had staked him to a rooftop and let the sun finish the job after I’d gotten him proof. Nicest thing I’d ever seen him do. It was now an abandoned storefront.
“Oh, of course,” I said. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. We can catch up on old times. Wear the red dress.”
“Have fun at your brother’s,” Sophia said, revealing she knew where I was and probably had known about Arthur’s survival the entire time they’d known one another. “I promise you, he’s next.”
Chapter Thirteen
A Cunning Plan to save my Friend
“So, Sophia Baron has your friend,” Arthur said as we stood on a street corner while we waited for one of his drivers to come pick us up. “Well that’s a real pain in the ass.”
“Tell me about it,” I muttered, trying not to focus on the fact Jack was probably going to end up dead, a vampire, mentally enslaved, or some combination of the three.
I’m sorry, Zadkiel said.
He’s not dead yet, I answered. Probably.
Either way, Sophia soon would be.
It was about three in the morning and New Detroit was every bit as active as it was at seven. It would rival New York as the city that never slept except most of its population took naps in the daytime. The moon was high in the sky and I could feel it despite most of the sky being blanketed under a dense cloud cover.
We were outside the Scarlet Woman now with the building’s security having roped off a section for us. Some paparazzi had come to take pictures of Tracy, apparently strippers now serving as celebrities in this city, only for Arthur to wave his hand and them to look confused then walk away.
I was nonplussed by the fact Arthur had gone from a guy who could barely afford to keep himself in pot, CDs, and dirty magazines to a guy who seemed to be plugged into the infinite wealth of New Detroit’s vampires. Still, I’d told him everything and he’d agreed (along with Ashura—great news there) to help. This was, after all, what they’d agreed to do when they said they’d handle the Baron situation.
“So, this Jack is not easily replaceable?” Ashura asked. “A pity. Is he a lover, pet, toy, or slave?”
“None of the above,” I said, really disliking the older vampire.
“Ah, a tool then,” Ashura replied.
“Wow, she is really pretty,” Bryce said, looking at her with wide eyes.
Minji looked offended while Tracy was just bemused.
“You couldn’t afford me, human,” Ashura said, annoyed.
“Uh, how much—” Bryce started to ask before I elbowed him in the gut.
“Oomph!” Bryce said. “I was just curious.”
“Sultans have beggared themselves,” Ashura said, with no small amount of pride. “Even then I only gave myself to those I loved—and knew would die happily knowing they had experienced the greatest joy they had ever known in their short lives.”
Bryce’s eyes widened and I felt his attraction wither. Thank God.
“See,” Minji pointed to her. “That’s the kind of vampire I want to be.”
“I feel like this should go without saying but Sophia Baron is a very dangerous woman,” I said, fully expecting this to be some sort of trap but having no other way to get to Jack. “She’s probably got the place covered in hired goons.”
“Probably hired ghouls,” Alex said.
“We’ll get your friend back safely,” Ashura replied. “For some definitions of safe. We are, after all, family.”
I felt strangely nauseated by that. What about you, Sword? Are you going to help me rescue Jack?
Yes, Zadkiel replied.
What? No lecture? I asked.
I have two things even more important to me than defeating evil as part of my mission, Zadkiel said.
Which is? I asked.
Protecting the innocent and redeeming souls, Zadkiel replied.
Just make sure the former comes before the latter, I said. Sophia is beyond redemption.
No one is, Zadkiel said.
“Well, we need some kind of plan first,” I said.
“Capture Sophia and torture the information we need out of her,” Ashura suggested.
“Torture doesn’t work,” Arthur said.
“Says who!” Ashura snapped, offended. “Clearly people who are not experts.”
“From people who are not psychopaths,” I replied.
“You should go meet her,” Alex said. “Get as much information as possible while we disable her guards and search the area for Jack. Likely she’s keeping him close.”
“Thanks,” I said, taking a deep breath. “I can read Sophia’s emotions and figure out when she’s lying. I mean, beyond when her lips are moving.”
It was liberating to think ill thoughts of Sophia Baron and the more I did, the more I felt like someone was tearing down the Berlin Wall in my brain. The fact she could start messing with my mind the way she did was one of the few things that really disturbed me. I had no idea how many people were running around New Detroit with their personalities screwed with but it chilled my blood to know even one existed.
I hadn’t shared it with Tracy but the reason I’d stopped using my Empathy powers was because I’d used them to kill the Raglady. I’d burned her mind inside and out to save my life. The thing was, I’d felt it as it happened. I’d known exactly what it was like to kill with my powers as I experienced being killed by them. After that, I’d sworn to never use them to tamper with someone’s mind again for good or ill. No matter how useful said powers would be right now.
My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of a white limousine that looked like it had its body reinforced, bullet proof glass, and heavily covered tires. The style was outdated but the thing was probably safer than the vehicle the President traveled in. I also felt like there was magic worked into its armor.
“Yeah, this is inconspicuous,” I muttered.
“It belongs to Thoth so take it up with him.” Arthur opened the door for me. “We’ll drop you off a bit from the location and you can walk the rest of the way. Besides, it’s not like New Detroit is lacking for vanity cars.”
I got into the car and it was all-white leather, risky for a vampire, with black shag carpeting. I felt like it was meant to belong to a vampire version of Jay Z and had ended up somehow in my brother’s possession instead. Taking a seat on the far right, I watched as everyone else piled in.
“I own a hot pink Ferrari,” Ashura replied, taking a seat beside Alex. “The others are different shades of red ranging from cherry to neon crimson. I try to match them to my lipstick.”
“There’s a couple of other things I want to discuss before we get there,” I said, trying not to panic about one of my only friends being kidnapped. “I need to know what my vampire powers and weaknesses are.”
“You’re not a vampire, Ashley,” Arthur said, sitting across from me.
“Are you sure I’m not a kind of a vampire? I seem to be a lot like Tracy but I don’t know what that means,” I admitted. “I mean, I’m feeling pretty vampire-y. I mean, yes, I could go for a steak and baked potato as well as the rest of that gallon jug but hunger for blood is definitely one of the things I’m feeling.”
“I’m pretty sure you’re a dhampyr,” Arthur said, looking ill. It was an odd look for him since he mostly looked dead. “I can smell your blood from here.”
“It’s delicious,” Ashura said, taking a deep whiff.
“But how?” I asked.
“I might have an idea,” Alex said, looking guilty. The car st
arted up and I wondered who was driving since I couldn’t see through the opaque window behind the others’ heads.
“How?” I asked.
“I’m a wizard,” Alex said, making weird but harmless hand gestures. “I know many things!”
I rolled my eyes. “Now’s not the time to make jokes.”
“Man, are you in the wrong crowd then,” Tracy muttered.
Alex cleared his throat. “My father was a high-ranking agent of the House, subordinate to the Committee alone. He was also a real asshole.”
“You’re in good company there,” Tracy said. “My father, coincidentally, was also an asshole.
“My father sold me to slavers,” Ashura said.
“My father loved me,” Bryce said. “So, do I win?”
I rolled my eyes. “Go on Alex.”
“One of the projects he spoke of, almost casually, was the fact that they did a lot of experiments on brights as well as so-called lesser magicians in hopes of increasing their power,” Alex said.
“Yeah, we knew that,” Arthur said. “It’s why I was on six different kinds of pills and had doctor’s appointments every Thursday. I stress ate until I was nineteen because I thought I had brain cancer.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” Ashura said, playing with his hair.
Alex grimaced. “Well, what if they tried to bond you with vampire D.N.A. at some point? Maybe enough that almost dying triggered it?”
“You think the House plugged us full of vampire blood and D.N.A. growing up?” I asked, horrified.
“It would explain a few things,” Arthur said. “I’m like ten times as powerful as a normal vampire my age.”
“So, like eighty,” Alex said. “Not exactly an Old One.”
“But close,” Arthur said, smiling. “Sunlight barely bothers me.”
“A superpower shared by most of humanity,” I replied. “Not exactly a strength.”
“Don’t ruin this for me, Ashley,” Arthur said. “Why can’t you be happy for me?”
“Because you’re dead and a pimp?” I asked.
“The girls and boys make their own deals for sex and I take nothing,” Arthur said. “I provide security free of charge.”
“What?” I asked, trying to adjust my brain to the altered expectations of what Arthur considered a normal life.