Halfway Bitten (17 page)

Collette was no coward, of that much I was certain. Her eyes glinted like candle flame as she concluded an internal dialogue filled with ifs and buts, all of which led her to decide that, for the moment, talking was better than being treated to another of Gran’s impromptu tanning bed sessions.

“Ontario.” One word, ground out between her pretty little fangs, but it was a start. When Gran and I flanked her and indicated she should start walking away from the tent—and prying eyes—Collette put on a game face and stared straight forward. I noticed that she was a delicate woman, who had likely been turned just into adulthood. She was, like all vampires, a shameful waste of a good person, and my heart softened, until her long fingers flexed unconsciously. That predatory gesture shattered my temporary goodwill, and I steeled myself for the next few minutes.

“What part of Ontario, Collette? It’s a big place,” I asked, seeing Gran’s nod of approval. We had an unspoken moment that could best be summed up as
keep her talking
.

“I’m not alone, you know. Yes, you can hustle me out of there, but—I am not without connections.” There was a desperate hint to her protest, and I knew that she was most certainly on her own. That was a wedge, and I knew that we could use it against her to our benefit, but only if we acted quickly. With each step into the breezy night air, we were further away from the imaginary safety of a crowd. I say imaginary because magical beings have no compunctions about stealing victims anywhere, at any time. There are no limitations to what predators will do when they think that their escape is guaranteed, and a vampire was among the apex killers associated with the Everafter.

Gran stopped, hemming Collette with her presence as I took the lead. There was something unnerving about how calm Gran could be, but then I remembered she was on the side of the angels and a smile pulled at my lips. It was time to get down to business.

“I—excuse me,
we
—know that you’re not only alone, but in conflict with other vampires who are here. It’s your nature. So”—I waved an airy hand as if it was already common knowledge that she was going to spill the proverbial beans—“in the interest of time and your own safety, why don’t you tell us your reason for being here tonight. Specifically, why
this
circus in
our
town.”

Collette’s fine blonde brows rose at my declaration that we owned the town. We don’t, technically, but the protection of Halfway is our concern, so I’m comfy using that terminology. Plus, I didn’t really care what some Canadian fanger thought of our powers. Don’t get me wrong, Canadians are delightful, but when they eat people, not so much. Not even my close, personal love affair with Canadian maple syrup could overcome a general disdain for compulsive cannibalism and blood drinking, although on some mornings, when the waffles are perfect, it’s a tight race.

“As I said, I’m hardly alone. But yes, I am in
competition
with others here.” She looked at Gran, then shrugged in some form of acceptance. “I wasn’t always in this position. None of us were.” Her words were bitter and clipped.

“What position is that?” I asked. Better to keep things short.

“Being—like a dog. Having no clan.” Drops of blood appeared on her lip where she bit down with barely-contained anger. “Before you continue with your incessant questions, my clan is gone. As is that of Leopold.”

“The vampire you were with in the stands?” I asked. Gran titled her head with great interest. Something was missing from this entire narrative.

“Yes. He’s Austrian, but has been here, or rather in Canada, for quite some time. He too is without a place in our hierarchy, and it’s a dangerous way to exist,” Collette admitted.

“I want to believe you, truly I do.” Gran’s voice was even, but her eyes twinkled with curiosity. She sighed, flicking her fingers downward at the earth. “If this Leopold is from Austria, and you are from Ontario, then I presume that you made arrangements for safe travel?”

“What do you mean?” Collette stiffened. She didn’t like the question, because she didn’t know the answer. I did.

“I think what my grandmother wants to know is who helped you cross all of that running water?” I asked.

Collette flinched as if struck.
Ahh. So she isn’t alone.

I met Gran’s eyes and caught her miniscule nod to go on.

“You must have support here in some shape or another and, therefore, you aren’t alone.” I let my charms jingle ominously, although they sounded more or less like laughing fae. It was tough to come off as a badass when your primary weapon sounded like a metallic giggle. “So, you’re lying, and that’s a problem. You see our situation?”

Gran chuckled, a modest noise that she accompanied with a friendly grin as her hands began to wave again. Light began to accrue in the palm of her left hand, small at first, but growing to a tennis-ball sized globe of soft golden light. It hung an inch from her skin, swirling slowly in a spin that cast dancing shadows and light across our faces like a guttering candle.

“
The Vampire Collette
,” Gran whispered at the ball of sunlight. Her word caused the light to pulse, flicker in recognition, and then settle into a modest yellow color somewhere between straw and gold. She smiled apologetically at the vampire, who knew that running was now suicide. I didn’t know that Gran could make smart bombs, and certainly not any weapons that were so pretty to look at. The spell was now bound to Collette by her name, a power that was akin to the pattern of her soul. She could no more outrun the light than one can avoid their own shadow. Her die was cast.

The realization of the spell’s intent landed on Collette like a blow. I swear her skin rippled with anger, but she mastered her emotions and looked at Gran, and then me, with a glare that was hotter than an ironworker’s furnace.

After a silence that was awkward, then pensive, then back to awkward, she spoke. “I am the least of your problems, Witch,” she began. For some opaque reason she addressed me, even though Gran was holding a dose of killer sunburn in her hand. Vampires are beholden to their desires, but they’re rarely stupid.

Except for now. At our frigid response to her opening, she flinched, hurrying to elaborate. “I have felt many clans here this night, and seen evidence of many more on my journey here. But yes, I am not entirely alone, although my clan is no more.” She shrugged, a minor gesture of frustration. “I suspect that there are other solos here as well. Shiftless vampires who have been forced into motion.”

“Why shiftless?” I asked. The hum from Gran’s spell filled the air between the three of us, adding a sense of urgency to the discussion.

Again, Collette shrugged. “I assume we are all the last members of our clans. I know I am. And before you ask, I am—was—a member of Clan Stormont, and I have seen over a century of our history wiped out in the last decade. We have been . . . hunted. I am the last.”

Gran said nothing, but I could see her thoughts wheeling about. Stormont had been a clan of some note, controlling several cities along the Canadian border. If they were gone, that meant that there was a power vacuum. I didn’t envy the human populace of that area, but I would dwell on that later. For now, the burning question was
who
, and to some extent,
why
Collette was the last of her clan.

“How were you hunted?” I asked, impressed. I couldn’t imagine actively seeking to stalk vampires; they were second only to werewolves and demons in terms of raw, unbridled power.

“I don’t know. No one ever survived whatever it was that . . . took us.” She frowned in remembrance. “A few years ago we began travelling in pairs, but even that did nothing to stop our fall. Something
selected
us, weakest first, and as of last year, I was alone. We had no master, no council. There was nothing except chaos.”

“What kind of chaos? Don’t vampires bring their own kind of uproar to a city?” Gran asked, her voice ripe with disdain.

“Fine, whatever you say, but we
do
control the rougher denizens of the Everafter. Without us, there is an explosion of ghouls. Stormont lands fairly reek of the undead, and not my kind. There are half-turned zombies, wights, and even mummies from who knows where turning the streets into a killing ground.” She looked at us both in turn, her jaw set in determination. “I know what you think of my kind but, without us, there is entropy on a scale that will render some areas of our land uninhabitable. Or worse.”

I tapped my fingers on a tooth, thinking. “Gran, do you think she’s alone?” Despite Collette’s gasp of protest, I didn’t look away from Gran, who shook her head in the negative. “I didn’t think so. You know what concerns me almost as much as your clan being erased? I mean, sure, it’s bad to have ghouls running around without any sheriffs to keep them in line, but I’m a little more worried about all of the water between here and Stormont lands.”

Collette’s face closed like a fist. I knew my thoughts were in order, so I pointed toward the Canadian border with a grin. “You’re no more alone than I am, Collette. What you
don’t
have is magical help, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t some vampire groupies hanging around, guarding your coffin.” I craned my neck, looking. “Are they watching us? Where
is
your coffin? You would have to be pretty well insulated against a journey like that. Got a couple wannabes on the line, doing your dirty work?”

Her set expression told me I was right. For a long moment, no one said a word. Then Gran cleared her throat with meaning, and Collette looked interested, but not alarmed.

“We could certainly forgive this incursion into our lands. I won’t let it be said that my family is unreasonable, nor incapable of being thankful. Why won’t you disclose your suspicions? It may save your life, and it will certainly save the lives of your assistants.” At the worry on Collette’s face, Gran smiled. “You hadn’t considered that whatever is killing your clan will surely stop you from turning the humans under your protection?” Gran sighed, a sound of mirth and pity. “You must be harried to the point of letting details slip. Let me assure you that we may be watched by your people, but there are other eyes on us, too. I can feel them.”

Collette’s face tumbled like a burning pile of timbers, and I realized that she was fine boned and vulnerable, qualities that appealed to my better nature. “I had hope to rebuild, if only so that I could rest. Some of us were discovered during the day. We were—they were taken. There were no signs, no fight, nothing. Soundless.” She shuddered at the last word. For a vampire to be surprised would involve a near-mythical predator. I wasn’t sure I wanted to know what was killing the clans—and it was certainly clans, because Collette was hardly alone in her plight. Phillip was alone, as was she. Reason told me that there would be others, all part of some mass predation creating a hole in the population of the Everafter, although to what end I couldn’t begin to guess.

I raised a hand and pointed at the vampire, reaching a decision based on Gran’s expression and my own instincts. “Will you submit to a geas? We will place you under our protection, but only if you agree not to prey on anyone in these lands. Forfeiture of that promise will result in your end.” I made a conciliatory gesture at her protest. “The geas does
not
include your human allies. Should they submit to your feeding of their own free will, you may use them for sustenance, but only enough to maintain your life. Is that understood?”

Just as I suspected, she seized the opportunity; never let it be said that fear isn’t a brutal motivator. I’ve cast dozens of geas spells, so there was not preparation for me to create the willowy tie between our souls. With a wave of my charms, a cool blue light passed from me to the chest of Collette, settling into her with a brief popping noise. She jerked, but stayed standing.

“Do you feel our connection?” I asked. I wasn’t entirely certain that the geas would hold, given that undead are free of the burdens that a soul can bring. Apparently, the spell hit home, because I felt the knowing tingle of Everafter between the vampire and me. At Collette’s nod, Gran pursed her lips and blew delicately at the sphere of light that danced above her hand. The globe disintegrated in a shower of golden sparks, and with its dissipation, Collette’s shoulders loosened in relief. In her eyes, doom had been postponed for the moment.

“My, umm,
assistants
are frightened,” Collette admitted. The ball, it seemed, was rolling.

“Interesting choice of words, but I understand what you mean,” I replied, granting her a wintry smile. “Do you mean more frightened than they usually are, given that they’re captive to an undead killer?”

The vampire inclined her head, a chill grin of her own meeting mine. “More. We’ve lived in an urban setting for . . . for some time. Consequently, my
cattle
are used to certain niceties, like order. I can sense that there is a wild discord among your town. Can you not feel the same thing?”

“We can,” Gran chimed in. “And we are prepared to meet any threat that may arise. You may rest assured of that fact.”

Again, Collette nodded, but with more respect. Gran had that kind of aura, and even the sassy vampire knew the depths of her power. “There was a murder here, and yet it remains unsolved. This is a quiet town, a place of order, and charm, and if I may say so, some degree of appeal. For a living settlement,” she added with the hint of a sniff. “But I have been in that tent with, what? A thousand people? And I did not see a single constable among them.” She lifted a gullwing brow at us and waited.