by R. J. Blain
“Can you get the bribe lists for politicians? It may become relevant if Breckenan, a Maryland resident, is interfering in New York policies.”
“I’m sure something can be arranged. Anything else?”
As I wasn’t evil enough to force him to walk through glitter, I crossed the room and handed him my mug. “You can thank me for not trailing more glitter through the penthouse by retrieving me more coffee.”
He chuckled. “I see you are ruthless when it comes to your acquisition of coffee.”
“I will have more questions when you return with my coffee. I also have questions for Clarke.”
“I’ll bring him, and I’ll bring Ben as well, in case you come up with an actionable plan.”
Unless one of them had the secrets of the universe tucked up his sleeve, I doubted I’d be coming up with any sort of actionable plan. “Perhaps bring a towel or a sheet to prevent the glitter from spreading everywhere.”
“Let it spread. I’ll use it to discipline when one within the brood needs to have his attitude adjusted.”
“Not her attitude?”
“I’ve never had to discipline one of our brides. Though I expect you’ll bring more change into the way the brood operates. I’m sure I can come up with a better punishment than cleaning up glitter. You’ll require a stronger reminder of why you should behave.” Emerick regarded the glitter with a raised brow. “Then again, whomever gets tasked with this job will be cursing my name for years, I’m sure.”
“More like decades.” I bent over, ran my hand through the piles of glitter, and straightened, wiggling my fingers while the rainbow, reflective confetti rained back to the floor. “I should go lay claim to your bathroom.”
“Please don’t.”
“The stones would be much prettier if they shimmered.”
“I do not know why I permitted those troublemakers to bring glitter into my home.” Emerick sighed. “I will return shortly. Please do not mark your territory with glitter.”
Chuckling over my victory, I trailed glitter to the nearest bathroom, washing it off my hands. I supposed my lengthened lifespan, such as it was, might let me survive long enough to see the glitter eradicated. Maybe.
Sighing over my mistake, I grabbed several towels and returned to my office, tossed them over the floor to limit the spread, and returned to work while waiting for my coffee and the vampires. I could understand why a vampire would want to become my father’s rival; enslaving preternaturals through unfavorable lease terms wouldn’t bother the greedy or ambitious, of which my father was both. Anyone seeking to be my father’s rival would need similar traits and an equal dose of ruthlessness.
However, I couldn’t help but question why Breckenan would try to peel information from me about my father’s plans.
Realistically, I knew nothing and could only guess at my father’s true ambitions.
I could guess why he wanted Harlem.
I could guess why he sought such unfavorable leasing terms for his victims.
I could guess why he would want me back, and it wasn’t for my wellbeing.
He would want to protect his interests.
Losing me, his heir, to a preternatural would damage his sterling reputation. Losing me, his daughter, wouldn’t bother him at all.
Damn it all. In a way, I had to thank the bastard for getting me out of the endless cycle of being a trophy, albeit a useful trophy.
Emerick returned with my coffee, Ben, and Clarke, then walked over the towels I put down and offered me the mug. “According to your expression, someone should die. Should I be concerned?”
“That entirely depends. Can you explain to me why murdering my father is illegal?”
“There are more satisfying ways to destroy him, all of which are legal. Alas, human lives have value. As vampires are human as well, we also enjoy those same protections to a degree.”
I understood; the laws would favor my father far more than it would me, no matter how I’d been made into a vampire. “I’m not sure there would be anything more satisfying than tossing him off the Empire State Building, Emerick.”
“How has your father earned your ire now?” Emerick moved my unopened presents to the side so he could sit on my desk. “Have I not given you enough blood today? Are you ready for a proper dinner? It has been several nights.”
Emerick’s maker snorted, stepped around the towels and the glittery mess they hid, and rustled through my box of legislation on general preternatural laws before selecting one of the files and holding it up. “This is probably the source of her inherent desire to murder her father, and if it isn’t, it should be.”
Checking over the introductory paragraph and a sticky note at the top of the sheet revealed he held the section of law covering the new leasing terms. “While it’s not precisely the reason I am annoyed, that certainly does play a role. Have you read through the legislation?”
“I’ve been made aware of the situation.”
“I have some questions.”
Emerick chuckled and placed my mug beside my keyboard. “I’ve learned to be worried when you have a question. I’m ready.”
Well, at least one of us was. “How has Breckenan avoided being exposed as a vampire?”
Emerick shrugged before he replied, “I suspect that like I have, he has developed methods to help him withstand exposure to the sun. It’s something we’ll have to research more carefully, but vampires have been public long enough for scientists to begin coming up with clever solutions to our problems. I don’t know if it’s a digested medication, a cream, or some form of preternatural power, but he has been spotted during daylight hours without showing signs of being a vampire. Beyond that, it’s all speculation. We haven’t found much of his activities, and he is careful to keep his evening activities private. There is likely some sort of illusory magic at play which would allow him to make appearances during the daytime while in reality, he is hiding from the sun. My vehicle has sufficient protections to allow me to drive during the day with no consequences. Unlike Breckenan, I have been around long enough to have substantial resistance to sunlight.”
I frowned. “Is it possible Breckenan has been a vampire for longer than five years?”
“No,” Clarke replied. “Absolutely not. He has all of the behaviorisms of a younger vampire and he lacked knowledge of who I am.”
“My maker is rather notorious among older vampires. Any vampire older than thirty or forty knows of my maker.”
Ben wrinkled his nose, which led me to believe Clarke’s reputation had a sharp edge. “Ben?”
“You and that habit,” Emerick complained. “Did you have to?”
“Yes, sir. I did. It’s simple, Pepper. Not quite thirty years ago, Master Clarke got into a dispute with another vampire, one with a rather violent reputation. Their altercation ended when Master Clarke gutted this man, drained him to the point of his final death, and hung him upside down from the Statue of Liberty’s torch. He then hired a mortal to record the sunrise and made sure a copy of the tape was distributed to every brood in North America, Africa, and Europe to send a message that certain things would not be tolerated as long as he lived.”
“Why not Asia or South America? Or elsewhere?” I asked.
“Representatives from those continents helped,” Ben replied. “And they had their own tapes made. They also made examples of similar vampires at home. That was a rather major event, as it finalized the exposure of vampires to the modern world and made it clear we were more than just myth or legend.”
I wondered how long vampires and other preternatural races had hidden in plain sight. “Why then? I mean, why expose yourselves in that gruesome of a fashion?”
“We were already exposed, Pepper,” Emerick replied. “It was only a matter of time until we were fully outed as existing. This let us choose.”
“And you chose to expose yourselves in such a gruesome fashion?”
Clarke grinned. “We were sending a message that we would ruthlessly ha
ndle law-breakers. Vampires are only one type of preternatural, but we tend to have a reputation. There are far scarier preternaturals out there.”
“Like werecobras?” I muttered.
“I would not advise meeting a werecobra in a dark alley. You would likely lose. Fortunately, they’re rare and wise enough to hunt more acceptable prey, including cows. Some werecobras will join forces with a brood to serve as a protector, but that’s uncommon. Wise werecobras never expose themselves and hide their second form from anyone other than another werecobra, which does make them dangerous, as they slide in and out of society without anyone knowing. Anyone could be a were.”
“I take it that they’re not contagious or anything?”
“You’re either born a were or made a were through ritualistic magic. It’s not contagious, and while it’s possible to make someone into a were much like vampires are made, it’s not commonly done. Weres prefer to breed. Werecobras will breed, and should they have a were child, they will often hold their partner hostage to try to breed more were children.” Clarke huffed. “Distasteful creatures.”
“And werewolves?”
“Scratch their belly and offer them a steak, just like I told you before,” Emerick replied, his tone amused. “They’re really harmless unless cornered or provoked. Werewolves and vampires often form alliances, although our brood does not currently have any werewolf allies. We don’t have any agreements with any weres at the moment. It hasn’t been needed. That may change depending on how the current legal changes work out. Weres have it lucky. As long as they’re careful, they can hide that they’re preternatural unless they’re required to take a blood test. They can be identified through their blood.”
“If this Breckenan has only been a vampire for some five years, why is he a problem now?”
“Greed is probably the answer. Add in some ambition, and you have an annoyance. Compound those things with his blatant stupidity, and he becomes far more of a threat, as stupid people are difficult to predict. They defy logic.”
While I couldn’t argue with Emerick’s logic regarding stupid people being a threat due to their lack of predictability, his confidence intrigued me. “How do you know he’s stupid?”
“He had you but left you to rot.”
I stared at Emerick, unimpressed with his comment, as it did nothing more than reaffirm that I was a freak for having risen from the dead in the first place. “He had zero reason to think I would crawl out of my grave after putting me there. Nor did his accomplices.” I turned my glare to Clarke. “Would you have expected me to crawl out of my grave after what you’d witnessed?”
“By your teeth if necessary. I am many things, but I can recognize when a woman will not let something as minor as death deter her from her goals. I had no doubts you’d show back up to make a mess of that fool’s plans. I would rather you not remember the trauma that made you as you are now, but I am pleased to verify you are justified in any actions you may wish to take against him and his brood. Of course, after he recovered, I’m sure he became aware you had gotten out of your grave. Masters are aware of their offspring, and he is not old enough to have many offspring. At most, he could make one or two vampires a month. It takes a substantial amount of magic to successfully create a vampire. There’s far more to it than shoving blood down the new vampire’s throat. I will confess, after I witnessed him begin the process and your inclination to drink him to death if permitted, I aided your cause. I am a fond fan of a feisty woman seeking revenge for the wrongs done against her.”
Emerick growled, and I snagged my mug, took a sip, and engaged the brood’s master in a staring contest.
With a scowl, he quieted and glared back at me.
“Please forgive my offspring, Miss Pepper. He is centuries too old to be making such a fuss, but he has good reason to. He is an overprotective master and will cause you a great deal of trouble. Until anyone who is a threat to you is dealt with, he will be a moody, obnoxious bastard.” Clarke strolled over and flicked Emerick’s forehead. “Do not annoy her into wanting to stake you. You may as well pretend she is as temperamental as your Ben. You might survive the next few weeks should you do so.”
Ben was temperamental? I regarded Emerick’s right-hand man with a raised brow.
He smiled and shrugged.
“You’re encouraging her,” Emerick accused.
“Why would I not? You can’t cage a stubborn woman like her, boy. You give her what she needs to do the job, and you either help or get out of her way. I recommend you help, but help in such a way she doesn’t resent, as she doesn’t seem like the type to be all that forgiving if you were to steal her prey. I am doing you a favor. I’m protecting you from your natural tendencies. If you try to stop her, I’m sure she’ll find some way to defy you, create even more trouble for you down the road, and vex you all the while making you like it.”
Ben snickered, and according to Emerick’s glare, his right-hand man would be spending a lot of time in the less savory parts of New York.
“If this Breckenan is frequenting Baltimore, why is he after New York? Or more accurately, why is he targeting my father’s operations?”
Emerick shrugged. “If he can topple the titan, he will acquire the titan’s wealth. I suspect Breckenan plans to kill many birds with one stone. Your father wants to eliminate preternaturals; this is obvious from his various operations. Or, at the minimum, he wishes to enslave them. The two can’t coexist with their individual goals, so it is natural they would become enemies. With your father’s known hatred of the preternatural, it comes as no surprise he would want to destroy Breckenan.”
“Once I reveal Breckenan was behind your disappearance, that desire to destroy may very well consume him.” Clarke lifted up one of my presents, made a thoughtful sound in his throat, and held it out to me.
Puzzled over his behavior, I set my coffee aside and took the box, which shed glitter from its misadventures. “It’s a gift. What about it?”
“Gifts are meant to be opened, and you have many gifts. You should open that one.”
“How does this relate to my father and Breckenan?”
“It doesn’t, but I’m very curious to see what modern broods offer younglings joining the fold. I do not wish to perish from curiosity.”
Emerick shook his head and sighed. “You may as well humor him, Pepper. My maker finds too much work to be dull, and he enjoys presents far more than a vampire of his age should, even when the present doesn’t belong to him.”
“It’s one of my many charms. Should the boy annoy you and you want a real master, come pay me a visit. You’ll find my blood delectable now that I’m a willing participant.”
I dropped the box onto my desk, grabbed my full mug of coffee, and launched it at the vampire. It smashed into his face and sent hot coffee splashing onto the wall and floor. The towels would never be the same, nor would the floor, but the spray miraculously missed my software and most of the presents. “I think not.”
Ben’s brows shot up. “You threw your coffee into his face.”
“Emerick told me I wasn’t allowed to stake him, and it was the closest weapon I had available. I certainly didn’t wish to break one of my presents on his face. I’m going to need a new mug, more coffee, and perhaps an entire pot in reserve in case he doesn’t start talking sense rather than flirt with me.”
“Message received,” Clarke replied, wiping coffee and blood off his face before shaking it off his hands. “How could you have corrupted her so quickly, boy? She threw her coffee at me. Coffee she made you fetch.”
“I didn’t corrupt her. I treated her appropriately.”
“Well, I am satisfied she is not shy about defending her territory. I’m going to drip coffee throughout your home and take leave to do some research on this Breckenan fellow. Should I find anything interesting, I’ll come calling. Perhaps she will like me better if I bring a gift of information.”
“You could bring me his severed head on a silver platter. I wou
ld appreciate that gift.” I didn’t even need to be the one to kill him as long as I could sleep with the knowledge he no longer lived.
“Should I have an opportunity to take his head, I shall do just that, but I expect he will be challenging prey for you. I shall also deal with the issue of your mother, and I will let you know how that goes.”
“She isn’t going to cooperate with you.”
“Let me worry about that. I will do my best to arrange the best possible outcome for everyone. And at the very minimum, your father will be distracted by having both his wife and daughter stolen from him. Plus, if I steal his wife, Breckenan can’t.”
I grimaced at the thought of my mother, who bent under the slightest pressure from my father, being subjected to whatever happened to me the night I’d been made into a vampire. Sometimes, I wondered if I really was my mother’s daughter, although I’d been blood tested once just to be sure I was my father’s daughter. “My mother doesn’t know much of anything about my father’s operations.”
“Which is why Breckenan stole you first, but your father losing his wife will put him in an unfortunate position, especially with the preternatural community. Vampires, especially, value relationships, so if your father doesn’t make sufficient strides to recover your mother, he will fight a war on an additional front.”
“I wonder if Mr. Francis, perhaps, was involved with Pepper’s situation.” Emerick’s eyes narrowed. “It is underhanded enough he might.”
“Doubtful, unless he meant to be a rescuing figure and pluck his offspring from the edge of death to forge favor with her. Having seen her angry, it would have been a rather foolish choice on his part. By the time Breckenan started to make her, she’d graduated to a fury so potent she would’ve lit the entire world on fire to watch it burn. I suppose if Breckenan were particularly ignorant on how vampires are made, he might have thought to begin the making process before allowing Francis to reclaim his daughter, hoping she might finish being made and wreak havoc among her family. Breckenan definitely didn’t anticipate her thirst or her aggression seeking her first blood. I don’t think Francis would have sent his daughter to be made into a vampire. It is possible he might have wished to rescue her, but it would have been risky at best. From everything I’ve learned of the man, Francis isn’t the type to do excessively risky things for something as minor as garnering favor, not when, by all accounts, he’d already trained the perfect little heir.” Clarke regarded me with a raised brow. “You’re quite cunning to fool so many people.”