Sire (25 page)

Michael's eyes narrowed. "How do you know that?"

Evan's eyebrows scrunched up. "It ... must have been a note in Morgan's book."

"The point is," Caitlin said, "we have options. Evan is as good at this as Morgan was, as far as we can tell. Maybe better. And we've learned from the mistakes that were made the first time you tried this.
And
, we've got our own vampire on our side this time. So even if the spell backfires, and the fire doesn't take him out, maybe you can get in a shot with the sword while he's dealing with everything else."

Michael looked thoughtful for a moment. "Okay, you might be right."

"Sure, you believe her," Evan grumbled.

"She's prettier than you are," Michael shot back.

"
Boys,
" Caitlin said. They both looked sullenly at the floor. Men.

"Okay," Alexis said. "So when do we do this? And where?"

"Liam's place is out," Evan said. "There's too much prep work. I don't want him walking in before we're ready."

"It can't be here," Garret said. "Something goes wrong, more people would get hurt."

"My mansion, then," Michael said. "But how are we going to get him to show up? I can't just call him up and invite him over. I might as well send a written invitation to the trap party."

Everyone was quiet for a while. "We need bait," Caitlin said.

"Well, yeah," Michael said, "but what do we have that he wants?"

Caitlin just looked at him.

"
No.
No way. I'm not dangling you in front of him like a worm on a hook. If he—"

"Do you have a better idea?" Caitlin asked.

"Well, no, but that doesn't make your idea a good one," Michael said.

"He's going to come for me one way or another, Michael. At least this way, it's on our terms."

Michael glowered, but he didn't try to argue.

"We have to be there, too," Garret said. "I want to see this through to the end."

"Me, too," Alexis said.

"I can make that work," Evan said.

"Okay," Caitlin said. "So here's what we tell Liam ..."

***

Caitlin was sitting in a chair in the corner of Michael's living room. Michael was standing by the hearth where, as usual, a fire was burning.

He took a drink—Caitlin still wasn't quite used to seeing the thick liquid slide back down the glass when he was done—and turned toward her. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" he asked.

"It's the best idea we have, Michael. You aren't strong enough to fight him. And I can't just run. I won't leave my friends here. I won't let him hurt them because he can't get to me. The best thing we can do is make peace with him."

"Well, you're finally coming to your senses."

They turned. Liam was standing in the door, leaning against the frame. He pushed himself upright and walked over to Michael, and poured himself a glass of blood from the decanter. He sniffed it, and took a cautious sip. Liam's face twisted. He spit the blood back into the glass, then threw it into the fireplace. "How do you drink this crap, man?" He looked back at Caitlin. "Especially when you have such a tasty morsel right in front of you."

Caitlin reflexively reached up and gathered her sweater around her neck.

Michael's eyes hardened, but Caitlin saw him make an effort to relax. "You get used to it," he said in an almost casual tone.

"Sure you do." Liam threw himself on the couch and put his feet up on the coffee table. "So, not that I don't appreciate the invitation, but what the hell am I doing here?"

"I asked him to invite you," Caitlin said.

"Really? Finally ready to trade up? Great! Let's get going then. Mikey, you can send her stuff along later."

"We realize that you aren't going to give up," Caitlin said.

"Right so far."

"And we realize that we aren't strong enough to fight you," Michael said.

"Still with you."

"So we want to make a deal," Caitlin said.

"Ahhh." Liam got to his feet. "That's where you lose me. See, I'm not much for making deals. I'm more of a 'take what I want and murder the rest' kind of guy. But honestly, this is kind of hilarious, so go ahead, wow me with your offer."

Caitlin stood up. "I love Michael," she said.

"Awww."

She kept going, as if Liam hadn't spoken. "And I want to be with him. But I realize that if I am, we're always going to be looking over our shoulder, wondering when you're going to turn up next. Or who you're going to kill.

"So here's the deal. You leave Michael alone. You don't interfere in my relationship with him. And you promise not to hurt any of my friends."

"And in return?" Liam asked.

Michael smashed his glass against the wall. "She wants us to share," he spat.

Liam looked back and forth between them. "What?"

"You share," Caitlin said. "You leave me and Michael and my friends alone, and once a month ... I'm yours. And as long as you don't hurt me, I'll do whatever you want."

Michael looked miserable, but kept silent. Liam's mouth hung open, but a smile was playing with the corners of his mouth.

"God, I knew you were whipped," Liam said, "but this is a whole new level of ballessness." He looked at Caitlin. "Do you keep them in your purse, or do you have them in a jar somewhere, or ...?"

Liam folded his arms and grabbed his chin. "Well I have to admit, your idea is intriguing. I mean, having you at my disposal, answering to my every whim ... and knowing that he'd be thinking about it, driving himself crazy wondering what depraved things I was making you do." His eyes gleamed a little. "And how much you were enjoying them. That would be priceless. There's just one problem."

Caitlin looked at Michael, who had suddenly become tense.

"I've had your blood, Caitlin," Liam said. "And I can tell when you're lying."

Liam rushed at her, fangs bared. Caitlin jumped back, and fell into her chair. Michael streaked across the room and tackled him. The sound of their bodies crashing together was like thunder.

The vampires were moving at breathtaking speed, and the action was hard to follow, but it actually looked like Michael was starting to get the upper hand. At least that's what Caitlin figured, since Michael seemed to be on top more often than not, and in the brief moments Liam was moving slowly enough, Caitlin could see that Michael had opened up numerous wounds on him.

Then Liam screamed. The vampires came back into focus. Michael's clothing was torn, but he was unharmed. Liam, on the other hand, was covered in bloody gashes, and Michael's silver dagger was lodged into in shoulder.

Liam yanked the knife free, and tossed it on the ground. "You, my friend, are dead. Angelica is just going to have to find herself a new lap dog." He rushed across the room and grabbed Michael by the throat, then threw him across the room.

Michael crashed into the wall. A crack appeared, stretching from floor to ceiling, and plaster and dust fell in a shower. Michael, though, landed in a three-point stance. His eyes were red, and his fangs were bared.

But Liam was standing between Michael and Caitlin. "Uh uh uh," he said, and backed toward her. "Move, and I'll twist her pretty little neck."

Michael stood and glared at Liam.

"I'm surprised," Liam said. "You're stronger than you were. Have you been sampling a new vintage?" He stretched his hand toward Caitlin.

Michael growled and charged Liam, but Liam turned and grabbed for Caitlin ...

And stopped, two feet short of her.

He reached for her again, but his hand met an invisible barrier. He slashed with his claws, with the same effect. There was no sound, no disturbance in the air, but his hand stopped like it had hit a brick wall.

"What the hell?" Liam said, and swatted at Caitlin again.

The air in the opposite corner of the room shimmered, and Evan, Alexis, and Garret faded into view. Alexis was clutching a silver dagger with white knuckles. Garret was holding a crossbow.

"That would be me," Evan said. He was holding up a piece of paper with one of his sigils on it, which was crumbling in his hand. He had called it a veil spell, and said it would conceal them from Liam.

Liam rolled his eyes. "Another witch? Oh come on."

A jug of water, the kind you'd plug into a water cooler, was lying at Evan's feet. He picked it up, carried it toward the center of the room, and put it on an end table near the couch. "I'm not a witch. Just a ... hobbyist."

Liam bent down and cut the rug with his talons, revealing another complicated pattern, painted on the floor. Liam pursed his lips. "This isn't going to keep me here forever, you know." He slashed at the barrier, and golden energy flickered across the sigil. "His little friend tried this once before. Didn't have the juice to keep it going."

"Oh, I know," Evan said. "It isn't supposed to keep you there forever. I just need you confined while I get
this
working." He held up another piece of paper, this one with a hugely complex design on it.

Liam stood up. "What the hell is that?"

"There are six quarts of blood in the human body," Evan said, "but you're big, so I brought a little extra." He patted the side of the jug. "Two and a half gallons.

"You ever been to a Catholic church, Liam? Probably, what with the whole Irish thing. You remember how Moses turned the waters of the Nile into blood? Well, I figured out how he did it. Michael?"

Michael picked up the silver dagger, still smoking with Liam's blood, and handed it to Evan. Evan smeared the blood onto the fingertips of his left hand.

"There's no such thing as free," Evan said, "Even in magic. There's always a trade. Energy, emotion, something has to be given up in exchange for what you get." He patted the jug. "Like this water here. I can't actually turn it into blood. But I can
trade
it for blood."

Liam held out his hand. "What are you—"

Evan laid his blood-stained hand on the sigil, and golden light rippled across it. Liam staggered, and a red cloud appeared in the jug, floating in the water.

"The blood is the life," Evan said. "The blood inside of you is the life of every person you've killed. Bethany. Sarah. Raj. Terry. And those are just the ones we know about."

The sigil flared again, and the red cloud grew thicker. Liam started to lose his balance.

"I can't bring them back. I can't undo what you did. But I can help balance the scales. An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Blood for blood."

Golden energy shone beneath Evan's hand. Liam fell to one knee. His skin was turning gray, and he had purple circles under his eyes. He opened his mouth, and water spilled out. The jug was almost completely red.

The sigil flared again, and Liam fell onto his side. The blood sigil burned and crumbled. Evan crossed the room and nudged Liam aside with his foot. Then he crouched down and touched the seal that had been holding the vampire captive; golden energy ran across its surface, and then the sigil turned to dust.

Evan walked back to Alexis and Garret. "Sorry about the carpet," he said over his shoulder. "He's all yours now."

Michael took a sword from above the mantel and stalked toward Liam.

Liam tried to scramble away, but he had no strength. His hands pushed uselessly against the floor, and his feet kicked, but he couldn't move. Michael grabbed him by the shirt and lifted him off the ground.

"Goodbye, Liam."

Michael plunged the sword into Liam's heart.

***

Angelica sat at her desk and waited.

The office seemed so austere that night. So empty. The room had been Angelica's second home for more than a hundred years. It had been her sanctuary, her respite from politics and games and oneupmanship. In here, with the doors closed, she could be herself.

Some of her greatest achievements had been born in this room. Some of her greatest ideas. This room was where she had laid out her plan to integrate with human society, where she had convinced a group of hunters and killers that their lifestyle was unsustainable, that their prey had become too dangerous. Physically, the vampires were still stronger, but as technology had become more and more powerful, Angelica had realized that humans could actually fight back ... and win.

This was the room where Angelica had revealed her presence to the first Mayor of St. Troy, and explained to him that this city had been built by, and for, vampires. Where she had convinced him that it was in his best interest—and in the best interest of his people—to work with the vampires to keep their secret.

This was the room where Angelica had conceived St. Troy University, a college that would bring the best and brightest from around the world, allowing her to preserve those deserving of eternal life ... and providing her people with an ample, constantly-replenishing food source.

So many memories, so many victories.

But that night, Angelica felt defeated.

She had been a different person when she had sired Liam. Younger, more arrogant, more violent. She had lived for the hunt and reveled in the kill. She had seen a true kindred spirit in Liam, someone who would stand by her side and bathe with her in rivers of blood.

It wasn't his fault, really. Times had changed, not him. Liam had become an anachronism, an embarrassment. He had once represented everything that was best about the vampire: strength, speed, and cunning. But now they survived through secrecy and stealth, not brute force. If Angelica had met him now, she wouldn't even consider turning him.

But the bond between a Sire and her progeny is strong, and while Liam and Angelica had grown more distant over the years, she still cared for him. She still loved him.

But Liam threatened everything she had created here. Their safety, their security, their very way of life in St. Troy would come tumbling down if he wasn't reigned in. His violence, and his willful disobedience, could no longer be ignored.

His death was necessary, but it was still painful.

The young mage would be successful, of that Angelica had no doubt. The spell she had shown him would cripple any vampire, and her blood would give him the strength to power such a complex working. Liam would be dealt with.