Night Owls (22 page)

“Oh? And where did it go?”

“Into him.” She shrugged. “We don’t know how, and we haven’t been able to put it back. When he writes, all he can do is write the words that were in the book, but none of the magic gets written out with it.”

Ivanov spread his hands. “Your solution seems simple.”

“You know a way to help him?”

Katya snorted. Ivanov smiled like he was speaking to a dim child. “In a manner of speaking, I suppose.” His steady gaze locked onto Val’s. “Kill him.”

Val nearly spat out her mouthful of lamb’s blood. “What? No! That’s . . . that’s not on the table. No.” She glanced at Chaz. He hadn’t moved, but his eyes were wide and angry.

Ivanov’s smile faded. “It’s the easiest way. You end his troubles and the spell dies with him, keeping it out of the Jackals’ hands. Two birds, one stone.” He tilted his head. “I’d have thought that would please you.”

“If you don’t want to do it,” Katya said, “you could give him to us. We can do it for you.”

“NO.” Chaz advanced on them, fists clenched at his sides. “Fuck that, and fuck
you
. You heard Val. It’s off the table.”

“Chaz—” Val started, but it was Ivanov who stopped him.

He was a blur as he rose, even to Val’s eyes. To Chaz, it must have been a shutterblink. “Kneel,” he said, the Command in his voice so strong that Val almost wanted to get to her knees, too.

Chaz dropped like a puppet whose strings had been cut. His eyes were clear, the anger in them flaring, but the sheer psychic weight of Ivanov’s influence kept him opening his mouth to argue. It showed how old the vampire was, that he could utter a one-word Command and his subject would obey the
unspoken
orders buried within it. In this case, “Shut up.”

Ivanov stared down his thin, aquiline nose at Chaz. “I see your Renfield is still allowed free rein with his tongue,” he said.

“You just suggested I kill one of my employees. I think his reaction was pretty justified, considering.”

He waved that away. “A good vassal keeps his passions to himself. Unless, of course, you’re suggesting he speaks for you?”

“He speaks for himself, and that’s how we prefer it.” Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Katya’s sudden smirk, but dismissed it.
One fight at a time, here.
Ivanov was far more important.

He stood over Chaz, rubbing his chin. “Some of our kind allow the same because they feel their servants can offer wise counsel. I’m not sure I’d believe that of yours, Valerie. He’s only ever shown a smart mouth in front of me, not a clever mind.”

“He can be coarse,” she said, reminding herself to apologize to Chaz for that one later, “but he’s the only person I’d trust guarding my tomb when the sun’s up.” It was an old saying, since most New World vampires didn’t sleep in cemeteries anymore, but Ivanov caught the meaning.

“All the same, I think perhaps this would go more smoothly if he were to recuse himself from the discussion. Of course, that is your decision to make, not mine.” The look he gave her quite clearly told her what her decision ought to be. He stepped away from Chaz and said, “You may rise.”

Chaz got to his feet slowly, as if Ivanov might order him right back down again. He looked at Val, waiting.

“It’s all right,” she said. “I’m not going to let anything happen to Justin. Why don’t you go wait in the kitchen for now? There should be something in the liquor cabinet if you want to pour yourself a drink.” It was the kindest way she could think of to dismiss him without belittling him.

Chaz gathered his dignity and gave her a curt nod. He sketched a bow to Ivanov as he backed toward the kitchen door, but he might as well have shown the vampire his middle finger, for all the contempt there was in the movement.

Ivanov remained standing until Chaz was out of the room, then shook his head and sat beside Katya once more. “Better,” he said. “Now. Back to your unfortunate employee. You won’t kill him, and the Jackals will keep coming until they get what they want, which, let us be honest, means
they
might kill him instead. Or, if they keep him alive for the thing dwelling within him, it will be an unpleasant existence for him. They won’t treat him like an honored guest. You know this as well as anyone.” He folded his hands in his lap and eyed her.

Val grimaced. It was true. If the Jackals got hold of Justin, they’d keep him chained until they got what they wanted. Then they’d tear him apart. “I don’t intend to let them have him.”

“And yet your servant informed mine that attempts at restoring the spell to its rightful place failed.” A glint entered his eyes. “We should speak on that, as well.”

“The ritual? It happened during the day. I didn’t see it, Chaz did. And you’ve had me exile him to the kitchen.” The back door slammed hard enough to make the cups rattle in their saucers. Val sighed. “And now he’s gone for a walk to cool off. So there’s not much I can tell you.”

“No, I don’t care about the details of that.” He smiled like a snake about to strike. “Valerie. You didn’t tell me you were associating with
Value’s children
.”

She blinked. “Pardon?”

“The boy you’ve befriended, the freelance warlock.”

“Cavale?”

“Yes. And the girl who I’m given to understand brought the Jackals upon you in the first place. Surely they’ve told you who they are?” It wasn’t really a question. Ivanov always knew more than he let on.

“Only a little. They’ve mentioned a man named Value, but he’s dead.”

“And their ties to the Brotherhood?”

“Severed, from what I understand. At least, Cavale’s were. I didn’t even know that’s where he’d learned his trade until two nights ago. The girl . . . I think Value was her only link.” She peered at him. “Does it matter? Should I have contacted one of theirs instead?” Not that she had the faintest idea how to get in touch with the Brotherhood out here. She’d remained intentionally ignorant of that for the last ten years, and that suited her just fine.

Ivanov smirked. “Certainly not. It’s simply curious to me, Valerie. You renounced that whole life when you came east, showed up on my doorstep proclaiming you were out of the Hunt and wanted to be left alone. Yet, here you are, mired in it once more.”

“I told you,” she said, trying to keep the snarl out of her voice, “I didn’t know they were Brotherhood. This was dropped in my lap, and as soon as Justin’s safe and the Jackals are gone, I’m done. Again.”

“Perhaps you should reconsider.”

Val went still. Katya watched her, smirking.
This is political.
“I thought the Boston covens abstained from the Hunt.” It was part of why she’d come here, after the disaster that was Sacramento. Everywhere else, she’d be sure to run into a cluster of Hunters who would expect her to pick up the stake again. The Brotherhood’s numbers were thinning, their members leaving the Jackals’ extermination to the vampires. But the Boston covens seemed content to let the Jackals be, provided they didn’t wreak too much havoc. When they did—and they always did, eventually—the covens would call in Hunters from the South or the Midwest to take care of it.

Ivanov nodded. “We do, as a rule. But perhaps the game has changed.”

“How?”

Katya snorted. “I thought you were supposed to be clever.”

Val ignored the barb and looked at Ivanov. “I’m clearly missing something here, but I don’t have time to try sussing it out. If there’s something I ought to know, or something you want, just say it.”

She winced as soon as the words were out, certain the disrespectful outburst would raise Ivanov’s ire, but he only chuckled and took another polite sip of blood. Val was fairly certain he’d only lifted the cup to his lips.

“I’m saying these two have forgotten more about magic and ritual than most members of the Brotherhood will ever learn, and they’re both young yet. Father Value was a madman and a zealot, even by the Brotherhood’s standards. They threw him out, Valerie, but no one ever took those children from him.”

“And now you want them.”

“Think what an asset they’d be! They make most members of the Brotherhood look like hedge mages. And if there’s ever a time when the Brotherhood has something we want . . .” He trailed off, letting Val fill in the rest.

He might not have an immediate use for them, but Ivanov thought in the long term. If the
Stregoi
did
need something from the Brotherhood, Elly and Cavale’s influence would be useful.

“I can’t speak for them,” she said. “I can ask if they’d like to meet with you, but that’s all.”

“And your own return to the Hunt?”

“No.”

He looked disappointed, but not upset.

This conversation isn’t done.

“Katya, will you be kind enough to get the colony on the phone? I’ve some business to discuss with them.” Katya rose and swanned out of the room, cell phone to her ear. Ivanov waited until the front door clicked shut, then turned the full force of his gaze on Val. “It wasn’t a question, Valerie, and I believe you know that.”

“You want me to Hunt again.”

“Yes.”

“May I ask
why
?”

“Because your talent is wasted here. You live like a human and it’s a shame. We are so very much more and you
know
this. Don’t you think it’s time to come out of mourning and do the thing you excel at?”

“I don’t. And with all due respect, sir, I have to call bullshit. My talent hasn’t mattered to you for years.
I
haven’t mattered to you for years. So if you’re going to ask me to Hunt again, it’s only fair you be honest with me about why.” She’d already danced right past disrespect, so it wasn’t hard to go for downright rude: “You’re making a show of power, aren’t you? Did some other colony challenge your authority?”

He didn’t respond, but the gleam in his eye told her she’d either guessed correctly or come damned close. While it wasn’t unheard of for vampires to fight one another, it was rare enough. Subtlety had a way of going right out the window when territory wars escalated. If Ivanov could say he had Sacramento’s champion Hunter allied with him—
plus
Elly and Cavale and whatever reputations they brought with them—no one would dare stand against him. He hadn’t
needed
them before now, but Ivanov was both arrogant
and
patient: he’d been keeping tabs on her, and thus probably on Cavale as well.

We’d be pawns.

She opened her mouth, trying to think of a way to buy some time, when her cell phone rang. Decorum stated she should ignore it—should actually have shut it off—but Ivanov gave her a little wave:
Go ahead.

Cavale didn’t wait for her to say hello. His voice was calm and cold, a Hunter’s voice: “Val. We need you here. They’re coming.”

22

A
CIRCUIT OF
the
backyard didn’t cool Chaz down, so he’d set off around the block to work off the anger and humiliation. In this state, if Ivanov came within reach, Chaz was likely to coldcock him. That wouldn’t help Val, nor would it help Justin, so he made
chilling the fuck out
a priority.

But good Christ, was it hard. He rounded the corner to Val’s street at a power-walking clip. The sides of his dress shoes were protesting even that, pinching his feet and chafing his right ankle. He might regret it later, but right now, the discomfort leeched away some of his fury.
One more spin,
he thought as he drew up to Val’s house,
and I can make another stab at genteel and complacent.
He snorted at the thought of it, imagining himself with a tea towel draped over his arm and the bemused look Val would give him.

The thought lifted his mood for about half a second, then it came crashing down again as Katya appeared from behind the town car. She was snapping her cell phone shut; she must have been leaning against the trunk or perching on the back bumper, blocked from his view.

It was too late to wheel around and head the other way. She’d seen him.
Probably caught my scent before I turned the corner.
She took a few wobbly steps on those impossibly spiky heels, then stopped, one hand against the town car’s roof for balance, letting Chaz come to her.

He slowed down as he approached, finally ambling to a halt about a foot out of her reach. Not that it would help him if she truly wanted to make a grab for him. He’d seen how fast Val could move. Katya was older—not anywhere near Ivanov’s age, but she had at least a century under her belt. He couldn’t outrun her if she decided to pounce.

“Charles. You pissed off Ivanov before we had a chance to talk.” She stuck out her lower lip. A pout just looked
wrong
on that feral face, untrustworthy, the vampire equivalent of alligator tears.

“Well, he suggested we kill a friend. It didn’t go over big.”

Katya smirked and shrugged out of her suit coat. Beneath it she wore a faded black tank top that couldn’t have been part of the original ensemble. In the glow of Val’s yard lights, he could see the brands scattered across her right bicep. The mark of the
Stregoi
stood out in the center, a Cyrillic rune Val had taught him to steer clear of when he went into Boston. Around it were notches, some of rank—he could see the newly raised flesh from her promotion to Ivanov’s second—others marking her kills.

Those last were faded. Vampires weren’t supposed to off each other these days, but when they’d been fighting their turf wars, Katya had racked up the trophies. Literally. Last Chaz had seen her, she was wearing a bracelet made from her victims’ fangs. He glanced at her wrist, noting its absence.

“I see you’ve made some changes.”

She followed his gaze and the pout turned into a grin. “Not as many as you’d think.” Her right hand dipped into her pocket. The fangs clicked against one another as she pulled out the bracelet and slipped it on. “Neither have you.” She tilted her head toward the house. “Still hers, hmm?”

“Of course I am. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“It’s just so sad. You give everything to her, your best years, and for what? What does she give you in return?”

What was she getting at? “I don’t—”

“She doesn’t love you, and she never will. Not the way you love her.”

The statement hit him like a mallet to the gut. “What?” It came out as a whisper.

“Come on, Charles. You don’t have to pretend. You told me everything when you were mine.” She reached out as if to stroke his cheek, the pout returning as he recoiled.

“I was never yours.” But he
had
been, for those three terrible days. Not of his own choice, but the Command she’d dropped on him had made him
believe
he wanted to be hers. Mix that with the blood loss and . . .
What did I tell her? How much does she know?

Katya took half a step forward; Chaz was too dumbstruck to retreat. “You were mine. And you could be again. No tricks this time, I swear.” Her voice was low, intimate. “Come be mine again, Charles, and
I
will love you.”

“You don’t love anything.”

One pale, perfect shoulder lifted in a shrug. “Then I can make you believe I do. It’s almost the same. Come be mine, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”

“There’s nothing I want.”

“Nothing but
her
.” She spat the last word, but the treacly smile snapped right back. “Then do it for just a little while. Give me ten years, and you can go back to her at the end.”

“So you’d take my best years and send me packing when I’m all used up, is that it?” Every muscle was tensed to run, but Chaz couldn’t pull his eyes away from hers.
Not again. Not this again.

Katya chuckled. “Perhaps. Or . . . maybe, if you make me happy, I’ll reward you.” She moved in close enough to kiss. Her palm came up and cupped his cheek. “Think of it. Give me ten years, and I’ll pay you with forever. Then you can chase her until the sun swallows the Earth, if you want.”

He stared. “That’s . . . that’s a pretty shitty reason to become a vampire. Stalking someone for centuries even after they’ve said no?” At first, his voice felt like it was coming from far away, but the more Chaz talked, the more in control he felt. He kept going. “Talk about an asshole thing to do.”

Another shrug. “It works in the movies.”

“In stupid movies, maybe.”

“So fine, don’t chase her.” She waved it off, annoyed. “Take my gift and be her
friend
forever.” The word dripped with contempt. “Follow her around like a sad puppy for a thousand years. What you do when you leave me is your business.”

“Right, because if I fuck off for a decade—with
you
, of all people—she’ll be totally cool with it when I walk back into her life.
As a vampire.
” He was on a roll now, his fear replaced by scorn. “What do you even want me for? Is it because I belong to someone else and you want all the toys?”

The smile didn’t fade, but a dangerous glint came into her eyes. He’d hit close to the mark. Before she could respond—and before he could dig himself in any deeper—the front door opened. Suddenly, the pressure from her fingers was gone from his cheeks, and she was out of arm’s reach again.

Ivanov strode out of the house. Val hurried after him, a duffel bag slung onto her back, its strap crossing her chest like a bandolier. Chaz had seen it a few times before, but never outside of the hall closet where it had been gathering dust in the back corner since before he’d become Val’s Renfield.

The driver, who up until now had been minding his own business in the town car’s front seat, hurried out to open the door for Ivanov. He shot Chaz a look that might have said, “Sorry, buddy,” or maybe, “Vampires. What can you do?” Ivanov didn’t get in right away. After a few beats, the driver retreated to the far end of the car, getting out of the way while his masters concluded their business.

Val came straight to Chaz’ side, peering between him and Katya. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he said, and even meant it. “We were just having a chat.”

Katya beamed, showing far too many teeth.

Val gave him a dubious look, but dropped it. “Ooookay. We have to go. Cavale called. It’s time.” She turned to Ivanov. “You’re really not going to help us?”

He shook his head, the amusement on his face making Chaz’ urge to coldcock him surge all over again. “No. You are a Hunter, Valerie, and so are your friends. I suggest you do what you were born to do.” He started lowering himself into the car, then paused. “However. If you’ll consider my request, perhaps I shall be more inclined to consider yours. Let me know what you decide. Come, Katya.”

Katya retrieved her suit jacket from where she’d tossed it on the trunk. “My offer stands, too, Charles. Think about it.”

Then they were gone, the town car sliding away into the night.

Val let out a frustrated sigh. “What offer?”

“Nothing I’d even consider. You?”

She shook her head. “Later. We have to get to Sunny and Lia’s.” Her nostrils twitched as she sniffed the air, her mouth twisting in distaste. “There must be a lot of them. I just caught a scent.” Something in the duffel bag clanked as she turned to glance up and down the street. “Nobody out. You want to do this fast, or dignified?”

“What’s the difference?”

“I can carry you and get us there in five minutes flat, or you can drive over and meet me there.”

Chaz winced at the thought of Val carrying him on her back like a toddler. It was a short enough trip to Sunny and Lia’s under his own power. “I think my dignity’s taken about as many blows as it can handle for one night. I’ll drive.”

“Okay.” She squeezed his hand. “Be careful, yeah?”

“Always am.” Then she was off, a blur half-seen heading toward the woods she’d cut through to get to the succubi’s house.
To hell with “as the crow flies.” “As the vampire sprints” might be faster.
Chaz tucked that one away for later. The Mustang roared to life when he turned the key. It was a good car, reliable even in its old age. Sort of how he hoped to be for Val, someday. It was enough. It
was
, no matter what Katya thought he wanted.

He found the loudest metal station on the dial and cranked the volume.
Entrance music,
he lied to himself. Nothing at all to do with drowning out his own thoughts. Nothing at all.

 • • • 

T
HEY’D RETREATED TO
the living room after their circuits of the house; Sunny said it had the best lines of sight out of any other rooms, and Elly had to agree. Justin lay sprawled on the floor with the book, flipping between pages. He looked up as Cavale strode past to check the windows for the fifth or sixth time, then noticed Elly digging into the backpack full of Creep-fighting supplies. “What can I do?”

“Nothing yet.” She checked the caps on the bottles of holy water and laid the rowan stakes out on the coffee table, the blond wood standing out against the mahogany. Elly touched their tips to check their sharpness, then moved on to palm a piece of chalk. “You sure we can’t just draw a couple . . . ?”

Sunny shook her head. “I promise you, we’re well-warded.”

Elly had never seen demonic wards. She thought she could feel them, at least a little, buzzing away at the corners of her senses whenever she touched the holy water. Of course they’d react to one another. For that matter, Sunny had inched away from the bottles as well.

Lia came back into the room carrying a polished wooden box. She’d disappeared upstairs a few minutes ago, muttering something about “bringing the ladies out of retirement.” She made a face when she saw the holy water, and set the box down on the far side of the table. When she undid the latch and lifted the lid, Elly saw the four daggers nestled inside on a bed of dark blue silk. Two were long, maybe fifteen inches from butt to tip. The other two were about half as long but identical in design. All four had wicked-looking serpentine blades.

“Keris knives?” Elly fought the urge to reach out and stroke the metal. Cavale wandered over to appreciate them as well, letting out a low whistle when he peered down into the box.

Lia grinned, her fingers playing over the wrapped leather of the hilt. “Old friends.”

Elly wasn’t so sure she wanted to touch the daggers after all. Some people believed keris knives had spirits imbued in them, forged into the metal. Could the succubi have . . . ? Before she could try to determine whether or not Lia was fucking with her, Justin spoke up.

“I smell wet dog again.”

Cavale was back at the window before Elly could react, twitching the curtains aside and peering out into the night. At that moment, the buzzing Elly’d felt from the succubi’s wards swelled. The living room was filled with the sound of a swarm of angry bees.
No, not bees. Locusts.
Sunny waved a hand and the noise dropped down to a dull drone.

“I can’t see any of them out there,” said Cavale. He checked the locks on the window—not like it’d keep out a determined Creep—and glanced back at Sunny. “How close are they?”