Good Intentions (55 page)

“Curious,” Baal replied. “What else?” Stefan frowned and shrugged. He was pointedly looking at Alex, who didn’t know why Stefan refrained from mentioning Rachel. Stefan’s eyebrows rose meaningful y. “I am unsure as to the efficacy of the ritual our former Brother used. I expected as much. My suspicion was that Carlisle here is not a Practitioner, and that suspicion was correct. He is entirely mundane. Given that, examining the details of the incident through his recollection will require a certain enhancement of his memory’s accuracy and reach. Warren here is an expert in such things,” he added, gesturing to the hooded, robed man. “How good of you to share al of your suspicions with the rest of us, Lord Stefan,” murmured the pale woman in the regal dress. “Does our bargain hold, Lord Baal?” asked Stefan. “It does,” said the man with the smoky eyes, “if Lydia feels it appropriate.” “And ours?” asked the other woman. “Lady Anastacia,” Lydia smiled, clearly enjoying her moment of glory, “I will be happy to fullfil al agreements in the main hall upstairs when my business here is completed. Would you mind terribly waiting for me there? This will al likely become a bit…visceral and crude.” Lady Anastacia stiffened, but inclined her head in a polite nod. She held out her hand expectantly. The man in the black suit took it. They both walked out of the room with the cowboy in tow. “Warren?” asked Lord Stefan. “What more do you need?” “I have blood and hair and flesh,” the man in the robes said. “Al I need now is a few tears.” “I’d hate to make you wait,” Lydia shrugged. She promptly reached to Alex’s face, forcing one eye open and then

rubbing a finger over it. Alex tried to fight it, but she was simply much stronger. The robed man was there quickly, holding a vial against the side of his irritated eye until the tears began to flow. “With this,” Warren said, “I will only need a short time and some privacy to complete my work. I will return immediately upon its completion.” “Then let not another moment of my master’s time be wasted,” Lydia shrugged. “I will keep our prisoners occupied until you are ready.” “Lord Stefan,” said the one cal ed Baal, “might I speak with you upstairs?” “Of course,” Stefan nodded. He pul ed Warren aside, conferring with him in a language Alex didn’t recognize and could barely hear anyway. They both turned to leave. Before he fol owed, Baal lingered to stare at Alex. The young man looked at Lorelei with nothing but apology and concern in his eyes. Lorelei plainly shared both feelings. They also both failed to mask their fear for one another. “You know,” Baal mused, “he looks oddly familiar.” “I thought as much myself,” Lydia shrugged. She indulged herself in a slap across Alex’s face…and then another, and then another. Her open hand didn’t injure him, but it delivered more stinging pain than any punch Alex had suffered al week. “Stil intent on kil ing him with kindness?” Baal smiled. “Later, master,” Lydia smiled. “That will wait until there aren’t so many cats for us to herd. Lorelei deserves to feel him go. I would hate to rush it.” *

Rachel felt the first sensations of pleasure forced upon her lover. For a brief moment, it lifted her hopes. Then she felt the accompanying revulsion that replaced any feeling of enjoyment. The sensations continued while the revulsion grew. Revulsion, and fear. She stood in the summoning circle within Molly and Onyx’s apartment, staring off into space with her expression overwhelmed by worry. The sensations she received from Alex—sexy, hopeful, then the polar opposite of both— gave her al too good an idea of who was with him wherever he was now. She couldn’t see him, though. Al she could see were her surroundings. Just pagan décor, yard-sale shelving and candles. Rachel had tried to break through the summoning circle many times after Molly and Onyx left her there. The pair had done their job al too well . She was good and stuck here, until either their summoning ritual wore off—and Heaven only knew how long that would be—or until they released the spel . He couldn’t die like this. Not now. Not after so many lonely and painful lifetimes. Not when that whole pattern seemed to have been broken…except it was entirely possible that this was just another tragic ending. Overwhelmed with fear for her new love, only so recently consummated in her heart as well as physical y, Rachel sank to her knees. Prayer was al the angel had left. * The suburban woods and hill s northeast of Seattle along the shores of Lake Washington could conceal much. Most of them, in fact, were completely benign. It was simply the lay of the land. Urban development competed increasingly

with natural scenery over the years as the city and its neighbors expanded. But with enough money and enough connections in real estate, one could take advantage of the sorts of obstructing hill sides and rises that most locals already took for granted. Not long after joining Ms. Black and Talon in their dark SUV, Molly and Onyx had the feeling that they were out in the middle of nowhere. They both knew that couldn’t actually be the case. But everything around them was dark, the road was lined on both sides by tal , seemingly thick woods, and there was no other traffic. They finally turned off to a side road, where a pair of pale men in black trench coats and dark-toned casual clothes tended a tal wrought-iron gate. Talon, behind the wheel, leaned out and said something to them in Russian. One of them walked a full circle around the vehicle, clearly holding a weapon of some sort under his coat. The other waited until the circling guard gave a nod. Then he walked to the gate and opened it by hand. Up ahead, not entirely obstructed by trees and a rising landscape from the gate, was a huge home reminiscent of a southern plantation manor. There were numerous cars parked in a small lot off to one side. The grounds were spacious, with the trees cleared away from the house for a good fifty yards in any direction. As the SUV rolled up to the manor, Ms. Black leaned over from the front seat to look at Molly and Onyx. “This is a truly unusual assemblage here,” she said. “We don’t normally associate so openly with the, erm, nightlife. Tonight’s a special occasion, though. The Brotherhood has been invited here to establish peaceful ties with their society.” “Anyone else invited?” Molly asked. “We gonna get to meet our first werewolves?” Talon hissed. “Don’t even joke about that.” Molly blinked. “Wait, for real? I thought that was just a cheap movie gimmick. You guys really don’t get along?” “Few supernaturals get along with others as a general rule. But I wouldn’t worry about them,” Talon said. He seemed to be glancing up at them through the mirror, but he didn’t cast a reflection in it. “They have incentives to stay away from this. But just the same, do yourselves a favor and don’t bring it up. It’s the only advice I will give you. That, and… should you in any way violate the hospitality of the Lady or our host, Lord Blackthorne, you will discover the sorts of

torments one learns to inflict over the course of a few hundred years of practice.” Molly frowned. It was difficult to hold back from tel ing Talon how frightening he wasn’t, but they were trying to be nice. It was vital to their cover story. She and Onyx could only afford to show the bare minimum of contempt for vampires that would still be expected within the Practicing community. “Seems like a pretty random Monday night to have such a party,” Onyx observed. Talon pul ed the SUV up to the front steps of the manor. There were several men in suits there to open doors and take coats and the like. “It was short notice for al of us, but the Lady’s invitations are not to be ignored,” Talon said. “Much of the Puget Sound is here tonight—al who could possibly make it. The Lady promises to explain al before the hour grows late.” With that, he got out of the vehicle. Ms. Black glanced at his back as he left, then rolled her eyes for the benefit of her new associates. “Pretentious douchebags, al of them,” she muttered. “Not as powerful as pop culture would have us believe, but they are still very dangerous. And numerous. “Watch yourselves in there. The vampires don’t want to piss us off, and so they shouldn’t be throwing their weight around, but many are letting their freak flags fly. naturally, some of the Brotherhood don’t feel like being cowed. You’re bound to see some willd sights tonight. If anything appal s you, come talk to one of us before you do anything rash. This is a party, but it’s a diplomatically sensitive one. Lord Stefan informs the Brotherhood that the precious Lady Anastacia has made some…otherworldly al ies as well . Live and let live is the rule here.” With that, she exited. “I’m almost ready to cut her loose right now,” Molly murmured. “This doesn’t prove anything about her story,” Onyx countered, shaking her head gently. They glanced at one another, silently agreeing not to speak of Rachel again. Instead, they both took a deep breath and got out of the SUV. Attendants hovered nearby, but apart from bowing deeply, they made no approach. The pair of witches kept close together, walking up the steps after Ms. Black. As they ascended, they shared another of their near-telepathic looks. They had both felt the ward when they crossed it.

It was powerful and large, put in place to shield the entire building from clairvoyant sight and any number of other effects. Within the ward, the casters and those al ied to them would hold a significant advantage of power in any sorcerous conflict. The enchantments Molly and Onyx already bore would hold, but anything new would be significantly weaker unless the pair was al owed to attune themselves to the ward. It was also unlikely that they could leave without being so entrusted. That trust wasn’t going to be extended easily or quickly. They were an unknown quantity in a sensitive setting. The raw numbers here were more than enough of a deterrent to any trouble, but the ward redoubled the awareness that subterfuge and guile were their only feasible tools here. If the ward were broken, both Molly and Onyx would be able to employ much more power…but breaking it would require significant physical damage to a casting circle they couldn’t even see, or to the building itself. Even then, there were still an awful lot of vampires and potentially hostile Practitioners present. As if they needed the reminder, they found Talon on the porch at the top of the steps, speaking with another pair of said vampires. “I’m available to help, Lucien,” Talon was saying to a thuggish vampire in an al -black suit. With him was a pale blonde woman in black slacks, a black bustier and a leather jacket. The other vampire gave a subtle, dismissive wave. “It’s likely just college kids looking for a place to go party off in the woods. Natalia and I can handle it. We’l just add them to the party favors. The Lady is honored that you have relocated here from the Old World. Stay and enjoy yourself.” He laid a hand on Talon’s shoulder, nodded, and then descended the steps with the blonde in tow. Onyx and Molly shared yet another pensive, curious glance, along with the same resultant frown. There was nothing they could really do but press forward. Ms. Black came back to the pair, bringing along a waiter with a tray of champagne glasses. She wasn’t surprised when they turned down the drinks. “Can I show you around, then?” she offered. “Introduce you to a few people?” Inside, the lighting was dimmer than either of them would have liked. The interior was every bit as opulent as one would have expected, with vaulted ceilings, handcrafted staircases, immaculate carpets and statues and other artwork everywhere. It was much more a mansion than a house.

Hushed conversations were had in the corners. There were pale figures in al manner of costume, the majority of it darkly-toned if not black altogether. Weapons were evident from a number of eras: daggers, swords, even a few black-powder pistols. “Mr. Woods,” Ms. Black cal ed, beckoning to a dashing man in his mid-thirties. “Do you have a moment to spare?” He graciously excused himself from his conversation with a markedly pale couple in Victorian dress to join the three women. “I want you to meet a pair of prospective new members. This is Onyx and Mol y.” “Ah,” Mr. Woods smiled, offering his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you both, particularly in a more sociable environment than our previous overtures have apparently seen. We’re al terribly sorry about the issue with Kenneth.” Onyx took his hand, but only warily. “News travels that fast?” “Yes, but I was the one had to see to his release from both the emergency room and police custody. He gave me a complete description of the two of you. He was more than a little irate…and Kenneth has to take care of the rest of the men he was with when he accosted you himself. Concealed weapons charges are an annoying little thing. Can’t say I have any sympathy for him, though. He knows he should be polite whenever he’s recruiting.” Molly also shook hands with Mr. Woods. “Might want to get a different recruiter,” she suggested with a grin. “Oh, certainly,” Mr. Woods smiled, nodding. “Ultimately Kenneth was well out of his place in doing much of anything he did. Regardless, you showed both skill and discretion in dealing with him. We’d prefer chalk it up to an impressive audition and an awkward misunderstanding rather than anything truly hostile. So, by way of saying bygones on behalf of the Brotherhood, wellcome to the party.” “Some party,” Onyx noted. Her eyes glanced around their surroundings meaningful y. As expected, Ms. Black had understated the oddities of the party. Here and there wandered shapely young men and women in very little clothing, mostly either a pair of black silk shorts for the men or tiny strapless black dresses for the women. None of them looked particularly thin, yet they were not at al out of shape. The women wore their hair up; the

men had theirs cut short. None of them spoke, or even seemed to be entirely al there mental y. They wandered around, slowing mainly near the vampires, who would occasionally reach out to draw one of them close for a brief bite. Mostly they bit at the neck or the wrists, but a few of the vampires just had to be kinky about it and bite elsewhere. The seemingly mesmerized young man or woman would wait patiently, even with some degree of pleasure on his or her face, while the vampire took his or her fil . Then the well -groomed snacks moved on about the party. The Brotherhood was not to be outdone. While their numbers were notably fewer and they tended to keep to themselves, and while their dress was mostly along the lines of business casual—with one or two robed exceptions —they seemed pointedly unfazed by the undead goings-on around them. They indulged in their own sensibilities with regard to showing off: an impossibly glowing trinket here, a bit of telekinesis or il usory companionship there. A couple of them even had small , almost feral red imps riding on their shoulders, who took full advantage of every hors d’ourves tray that wandered close enough for their lashing tails to reach. “Ah. Yes. I’m going to go out on a limb here and guess that this is your first social experience among supernaturals in any significant numbers, yes?” Mr. Woods mused. “You could say that,” Onyx nodded. His friendly smile never left his face. “Then I’m also going to hazard a guess that the both of you come by your youthful beauty legitimately, rather than through magic.” “I’m right here, Woods,” Ms. Black scowled playful y, giving his arm a slap. “He’s saying I got a cheap magic facelift and boob job.” “I’m saying you got a remarkable magic facelift and boob job, among other things,” Mr. Woods bowed with equal joviality. “But back to my point: the nightlife have a certain penchant for reminding themselves how far removed they truly are from their mortal lives. They like to feel they’re above conventional morality—can’t say I don’t sympathize there—and so they go to great lengths to reinforce that premise when among their own. Depending on how adventurous you’re feeling, you could find any number of much more licentious scenes behind the closed doors of