Always the Vampire (10 page)

I’d turned my cell off during the taste test but had no messages from Saber when I checked at a stoplight. I had the early ghost-tour shift tonight, a special one with a book club from Palm Coast. I wore my emerald empire-waist gown, one fashioned to evoke the English Regency period, and decided to take the group on a slightly longer tour.

We visited Elizabeth at the City Gates, the characters at the Huguenot and Tolomato cemeteries, dropped by Fay’s House, then headed to the bay front and Casa de la Paz.

“There are several versions of this story,” I told my tourists when we stood across the avenue from the house, “but here is the one I like best. In the early 1900s, a young woman I’ll call Philla came to St. Augustine to recuperate from an illness. Here she met a young man who had also come to town for his health. Let’s say he’s James. Well, Philla and James resided here, in the same boardinghouse, where they eventually fell in love and planned to marry.

“The day before they were to leave, James insisted on going fishing against Philla’s wishes. A storm blew up and James drowned. Heartsick, Philla’s health worsened until she finally died in the boardinghouse, alone and in mourning for James. Now she wanders the halls or waits on the staircase, valise in hand, asking if it’s time to leave.”

“Is she the bride spirit at the Tolomato cemetery?” a lady asked.

“No, that’s a different ghost. Philla isn’t seen outside Casa de la Paz as far as I know.”

“Then who’s that standing on the porch?” another woman asked.

We all turned to stare, and sure enough, a woman in a period traveling outfit, complete with a hat and valise, stood on the wide porch. She seemed to gaze toward the Matanzas Bay inlet, then looked directly at my group before she turned toward the house and vanished.

My group and I exchanged wide glances, and I admit to having chills and a tear in my eye. I love it when our ghosts surprise me and give my tourists an experience to remember.

I bid my group farewell at the waterwheel, stowed my lantern, and headed to the office to check out and remind Candice I would be out of town over the weekend. I also mentioned needing time off the next few weeks.

“The wedding?” she asked.

I merely smiled.

She nodded sagely. “That maid of honor gig is a killer.”

I laughed and waved and stepped out of the office onto St. George Street not looking where I was going. I ran full force into Saber.

“Thank God I found you,” he said in a rush, his hands on my shoulders to steady us both. “We need to get to Cosmil’s.”

My gut tensed. “Has he been hurt again?”

“Not yet. The Council of Ancients headquarters has been attacked, and Cosmil is frantic that we’re next on the hit list.”

“Fill me in on the attack,” I said once we were speeding south on US 1 toward 206 and the turn off to Cosmil’s place.

Not that my first reaction had been so sedate. No, my mouth had gone dry, I’d gripped Saber’s hands, and I’d scanned the sidewalk for magical assassins. Hell, I’d even looked skyward as if expecting an air strike by Oz’s flying monkeys. I’d been that spooked by Saber’s blunt announcement. At this rate, I’d be the only vampire on the planet with chronic high blood pressure.

Calmer now, I listened as Saber answered me without taking his eyes off the road.

“You know the Council is in an uproar over Legrand’s murder and the body disappearing. Well, the members closed the local portals, but what they didn’t do—or didn’t do well enough—was put protection around the compound.”

“The compound is a physical place?”

“Yeah, in Chambery in the French Alps. The members stay there while they hold meetings, and an administrative and support staff of both supernaturals and mortals live there permanently. According to Cosmil, the compound was hit by the magical equivalent of a terrorist bomb.”

“Oh, God.” My heart clenched, and dread churned in my stomach. “Was anyone hurt? Lia?”

“Lia’s all right, but three humans are dead, and a fairy and werewolf are in critical condition.”

“Those poor souls. This is the work of Starrack and the Void, I take it.”

“Cosmil thinks so. Lia is staying over the weekend to help secure the place and unite the Council as much as she can. She’ll fly Air France to New York City on Monday and take a charter to the St. Augustine airport.”

The new moon was Monday. Or was it Sunday? Whenever, Triton shifted at the dark of the moon and usually needed a day to recuperate afterward. Or had in the old days.

“Triton will be shifting about then, so you and I will pick up Lia.”

I startled. “Reading my expression again?”

In the glare of a streetlight, I caught Saber’s grin. “No, Triton is the one who called about the attack. He mentioned shifting.”

“Ah. So what does Cosmil expect to accomplish in this mini council meeting with us?”

“Circling the wagons? Casting protection spells? Triton didn’t say, but whatever it is, it’s fine by me. I’m not taking any chances, especially with you leaving town.”

 

 

The dark of the moon might be only a few days away, but the area all around Cosmil’s shack was washed in an unearthly, dusky glow.

Which made it easy to see Triton where he stood sentry on Cosmil’s shabby porch. He was barefoot, had his arms folded, and wore cutoffs, a dark T-shirt, and a scowl. A lock of hair feathered over his forehead in the light night breeze, but it didn’t make him look less ticked.

I lifted the hem of my gown to avoid getting grass stains and opened my mouth to greet Triton. He riled me before I was halfway across the yard.

“You are not leaving for the weekend.”

“Hide and watch me, bub,” I tossed back.

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I’m a big, bad vampire, Triton. I’ll live.”

“Maybe, but what about Maggie and the other women?”

“I’m already the designated driver. I’ll take care of them.”

“You’re a pig-headed pain in the ass.”

“Only when you’re wrong.”

“Children!” Cosmil’s voice lashed from the far side of his shack.

I whirled to see the wizard wearing a royal blue robe over another outfit of white pants and a tunic. He must buy his duds in bulk.

“Ah, silence,” he said as he strode to meet me. “Now I may concentrate. Francesca, has Saber told you why you are here?”

“He said there was an attack on the COA and you’re concerned we’re the next target.”

“Protection spells are in order, yes, but you must also learn to use the amulet. In however rudimentary a manner.”

I stiffened, but not in revulsion or fear, not of the amulet itself anyway. I remembered the warm pulse of the amulet, how simply
right
it had felt in my hand. Problem was, I knew what the amulet could do, so it was like a loaded gun. One I didn’t want to aim, never mind fire.

“The amulet is a defensive tool as well as an offensive one, Francesca. It can hurt, but it can also heal. I would not put it in your hands if I thought you were not ready.”

I wasn’t surprised he’d read my thoughts. Annoyed, yes, but then it seemed every man in my life read me.

And, okay, I might’ve huffed a bit as I asked, “What if I learn just enough to be dangerous?”

“That shall not happen. The amulet responds to intent, you see.” He eyed me. “Or perhaps you do not, but you will. Now, come, all of you. Francesca and Saber, remove your shoes. We have a ceremony to conduct and spells to spin.”

“You need a ceremony to cast spells?”

“The ceremony is to bind our energies more tightly to one another.”

I thought I was already pretty darned bonded, except maybe to Cosmil, but I didn’t object. Saber took my hand as we trailed after Cosmil. Triton walked at my other side, and Pandora emerged from the tree line to our right. When we reached the center of the perfect circle of trees, Cosmil stopped beside a carved wooden box placed in the short, springy grass.

“Triton, you stand in the east,” Cosmil directed. “Pandora, the south. Francesca, Saber, take the west and north.”

We moved into the cardinal positions, me in the west, automatically adjusting our places to be equally distant from Cosmil in the center. Seven feet, I heard in my head and in my own voice. As if I’d been here, done this—or something like this—before.

Cosmil nodded his approval and bent over the box. He passed both hands over the lid—one clockwise, one counter—and mumbled a few words under his breath. A tingle of magick ran along my arms, and I jumped a little when I heard the lock on the box click. Then he opened the lid and lifted a rounded object wrapped in silver-shimmer fabric. Energy prickled across the back of my neck and trickled down my spine as he mumbled again and peeled away the cloth to reveal an honest-to-wizard crystal ball.

Or was it crystal? I sharpened my vampire vision and looked closer. Reflections danced over the sphere’s surface, like a glass gazing ball in a garden. Whatever the material, my breath caught when Cosmil let the fabric flutter into the open box, cupped the sphere in both hands, and raised it over his head.

“Powers of the East,” Cosmil intoned, his voice suddenly a booming bass in surround sound as he faced Triton. “Illuminate the future and our path in it as you illuminate each day. Let us learn from our experiences and be continually renewed.”

A shaft of white light shone over Triton for one long second. Then Cosmil turned to Pandora.

“Powers of the South, aid us in our growth and strength so that we may clear our paths of obstructions and face the challenges before us.”

In the ball, I saw Pandora’s reflection, but she stood in a meadow of tall grass and wildflowers. Had she teleported? Been beamed away? Or was she still sitting on her haunches on my right? I didn’t have time to sort the images because Cosmil captured my gaze.

“Powers of the West, knowledge and growth thrive in the womb of introspection, of the waking and sleeping dreamtime. Let our visions birth pure intention and decisive action.”

Pictures bloomed in my mind, snapshots in a vortex, swirling too fast to identify but vibrating with sound and color and emotion. I tried to slow the slide show, only to feel a cocoon enfold me. Was I still standing? Curled in a cradling cloud? Didn’t matter.

I thought I heard Saber shout, but Cosmil’s voice boomed over it. “Powers of the North, you wear the mantle of age and experience. Bring us the wisdom to guide our actions for the highest good.”

In my muzzy vision, Saber’s hair looked snowy white for a millisecond.

Now Cosmil chanted. Not in a language I knew to speak or read or truly comprehend, but some ancient part of me recognized its cadence. A waterspout of blues and greens and whites lazily rose around Cosmil with each note of the ancestor’s song. I listened and drifted, seeing Cosmil and Pandora, Saber and Triton through a baffle. Seeing the sphere levitate from the wizard’s hands to hover treetop high. Seeing sunshiny rays of light play over our circle. Through it all, I stayed suspended in my cocoon, content to appreciate and wait.

Full awareness slammed into me when someone shook my shoulder. I blinked up at Saber’s face.

Up? Why the hell was I flat on the ground?

I jackknifed into a sitting position so fast that I nearly bumped heads with Saber. Good thing his not-quite-humanness gave him great reflexes.

“Steady,” Cosmil said from where he hunkered at my feet. “You channeled your direction more than I had imagined possible.”

“You think?” I snarked. “I’m on my butt in the grass, Cosmil.”

“Yes, indeed, you are. I have apologized to Saber for the scare. Had I foreseen this, I would have warned you both.”

Saber shot Cosmil an irritated glance. “Somehow your apology rings hollow.”

“Perhaps because I cannot regret the outcome.” The wizard speared me with his gaze. “You are indeed ready to make the amulet your own, Francesca. Come. Pandora and Triton are preparing phase two.”

Cosmil sprang to his feet and strode toward the shack, all but rubbing his hands in glee.

Saber watched Cosmil go with narrowed eyes.

“Why are you ticked at him?”

“Because when Cosmil invoked the West,” he said, giving me a hand up, “you swayed and sank into the grass in a fetal position. Scared the shit out of me, but the old bastard froze me in place until after the ceremony.” He cupped my face with his hands. “You sure you’re not hurt?”

“Not an ache. Did I fall hard?”

“You didn’t fall. You floated.”

“And that freaked hunky you?”

“No, honey. The ground softened and absorbed your body. You were three-fourths buried.
That
freaked hunky me.”

An icy fist seized my gut. Buried? I’d been buried again? Damn it. Why did I have to pull the West power straw? Being beamed by sunlight, basking in a meadow, hell, even turning temporarily gray were all happier choices. Being buried in anything except up to my neck in Saber’s hot tub? That shook me to my little fanged core.