Cherry Stem (12 page)

Mostly.

That last word flashed bright neon in my head as soon as the first of the council members walked inside the cold room in the middle of which Constantine and I had been seated by a tiny scrap of a human man.

Ádísa glanced at me with a smirk on her full, red lips. She would have headed the council if the job description depended on age. Legend had it she was a Valkyrie, a
chooser of the slain
, who’d escaped Odin and renounced Valhalla, the Old Norse version of warrior heaven. I thought she had created that legend herself because she loved being the center of attention.

With her long blonde hair braided at the sides of her neck and her barely there leather getup, she definitely looked the part as she regarded Constantine with a small smile. Her breasts were too firm to spill over her bralike top, even if they looked like they were about to do just that, I thought with more than a hint of jealousy. Whether because of better genes or Odin’s favor, she would never curse herself for not having gotten a boob job in time.

In her wake came Gheorghios. Second oldest of the council members, he’d for a while followed the archbitch’s example and tried to convince people that he was
the
Saint George who had slain the dragon. Even one-day-old newbies knew he’d pulled that out of his ass, yet nobody would dare say so in his presence. Unlike his story about his past, his viciousness and quick temper were never disputed.

I felt his hawkish gaze on me like an actual physical weight and strove not to show my discomfort. I couldn’t exactly smile at him; he might take it as insolence. So I met his eyes with the best combination of respect and earnestness I could muster. I guess I did well enough, because he nodded at me and my escort and took a step back to stand on Ádísa’s right. The way they were beginning to line up made me think of a beauty pageant.
And now, our next contestant, in dark ’n’ gloomy wear
. I shushed the thought. This wasn’t the time for me to giggle.

The urge to squirm was overwhelming. I wasn’t there to get judged; nevertheless I felt every part the naughty schoolgirl who had to appear before the school board—an extremely strict school board, with a propensity for bloodshed.

I calmed down a little when the third of the five we were to meet strutted our way and graced me with a full grin and a wink. He shook hands with Constantine and took his place at Gheorghios’s side. John—Johnny Boy to his friends—had been turned in his late teens and dressed as if he was still in them. His jeans were faded and ripped, his boots heavy and with metal fronts, his T-shirt snug. Barely a century undead, he’d managed to have a great following and had gained the respect of friends and enemies, despite being known as a pacifist—something not guaranteed to gain you status among our kind.

I had spoken to him once before; he’d been the one to approach me for that spokesperson deal in the past, and I knew he was as mellow as vampires come, in spite of the bad-boy exterior.

Hui Zhong, following close behind him, was the exact opposite. Her china-doll appearance, complete with a silk robe—which I’d called just that and had subsequently been glared at, ’cause “
it’s a
hanfu”—belied her bloodthirsty nature. She had been turned in China in the late 1800s, and her kills during her fledgling days rivaled the number of deaths from the plague epidemic, which had conveniently covered said kills.

She didn’t smile, frown, or even look at us. A demure bow, aimed at nobody in particular, was all the acknowledgment we received. I found the entire act too much, like the outfit, but resisted the eye roll I felt coming. I’d heard she always carried a sword under that robe—hey, it’s my head, and I say it’s a
robe
—and didn’t really care to find out for sure.

The last vampire to walk in before I heard the door being bolted on the outside was Benjamin. He was a paradox in that he’d been turned in his sixties and had been one of us for just seventeen years. There was a theory that he’d only been recruited for the council to be able to represent a different demographic. The same theory supported that Hui Zhong was there for the same reason: diversity. The new council advocated it, and that was the basis of its power. One look into Benjamin’s flat eyes, however, and one could see the cold calculation and single-minded determination that had gained him his position.

He had been the instigator of the coup that ended the old council, the first to dust one of them. One moment he’d been one of those present at the hearing about my irresponsible turning, the next he’d been yelling that the council was inadequate and driving a wooden stake through the oldest vampire’s heart in the ensuing melee.

He scared me shitless.

With Benjamin in place, they had formed a semicircle around me and Constantine. A black semicircle, with the exception of Hui Zhong’s colorful attire. A shiver ran down my spine. Constantine’s fingers found and squeezed mine. I squeezed back. I knew there was no reason for worry; they were scary-ass, all right, and I had to tell them something they wouldn’t like, but they wouldn’t turn their wrath for the rogue against us.

Hopefully.

“State your name, please.” The man who had told us to sit was now between the council and us, looking at me expectantly and waving a pen over a pad. He didn’t seem nervous enough for being in the presence of so many of us. I certainly felt more apprehensive than he looked.

“Your name?” he asked again when I took a whole entire second to reply.

“Cherry Stem.”

Someone snorted; I’m not sure whether it was because that was my screen name or because of what I’d been doing on said screen. Either way my money was on Ádísa having made the rude sound, but I didn’t even glance her way. The secretary, or whatever Little Man was, squinted at me briefly before jotting my name down.

“Is your reason for requesting an audience with our rulers political, ethical, or personal?”

I’d always rocked multiple choice quizzes in high school and was about to say that when Constantine nudged me with the heel of his shoe. “I am not sure,” I said. “It affects all of us, but it’s not political.”

The guy’s eyes narrowed again. “Ethical, then?”

I shrugged. “Sure.”

The pen scratched the pad once more. “And who vouches for Ms. Stem?”

Umm, what was that?

Before I could tell him that I had no clue someone was supposed to vouch for me, or what said vouching was about, Constantine spoke up. “I do.”

“Are you sure?” I muttered the question under my breath without looking at him, but the council members no doubt heard it.

He wasn’t perturbed, of course. “Yes. They needed someone to vouch that you had a valid reason for asking to see them. I did. They know and trust me.”

I tried not to dwell on the fact that, last time I’d checked, only
one
of the members, his maker, knew him well enough. I smiled at the human, who was clearing his throat to get our attention.

“Yup, he’s the voucher, all right.” His frown seemed to tell me that a bit more formality wouldn’t hurt. I beamed a smile at him, grateful I didn’t have a pulse. If I did, it would be racing now.

Constantine’s name was noted down—he didn’t give his real name, either—and we were finally done with the formalities. The human moved to the side and sat behind a little desk.

I turned to the standing vampires, studying each face briefly. They were all looking at me in expectation. Don’t waste their time, I told myself. Yet my brain froze momentarily. How was I supposed to start?

I wet my lips and went for it. “I have reason to believe there’s a rogue vampire turning young women.” There. Like pulling off a bandage.

I’d expected some reaction to my statement, a widening of the eyes at minimum, maybe a gasp, but all I got were blank looks. I
hate
blank looks.

“A woman in my apartment building has gone missing, and I overheard the police talk about how that fits a series of other disappearances.” They were still not saying anything. They weren’t even blinking. Fortunately John gave me an almost imperceptible nod, so I went on. “The thing is, the day before the disappearance, I was attacked by one of us. He was masked, but I recognized him as Willoughby. My maker. I thought he was dead.”

Benjamin spoke. “Willoughby? That’s highly improbable.” His frown made him look even scarier than before.

“It was
him
. He said he should have killed me.”

“But your attacker was masked.” Hui Zhong’s voice was light, like a chirp, and neutral.

“And I’m sure more than one of us has thought about killing you.” Ádísa was friendly as always.

I huffed. I had to tell them the whole story or a version of it that would keep me out of trouble. The lie I had decided on just wouldn’t cut it. “I was with a man. A human.” I felt Constantine tense beside me. “I was at his place for…dinner, when Willoughby broke in. He attacked us both.”

I should have told them about Ted too, but something held me back. “I didn’t realize who he was at first,” I said, “but then I recognized his voice. The man I was with turned out to be the detective investigating the disappearances. See? It all makes sense. Willoughby must have planned the attack. He had to have gotten a member of the family to invite him in the house earlier on, or he wouldn’t have been able to enter.”

The synchronized bobbing of heads with
precisely
the same skeptical expressions was a funny sight, but it wasn’t the time to giggle. “I wiped the human…after.” I sounded convincing enough. “I don’t understand how Willoughby is still around, how he escaped when we all thought he was executed, but I think he’s out there killing or turning women, and—”

“Thank you for bringing this to our notice, Cherry. We’ll look into it.” John smiled at me, eyes twinkling, and I felt the knot that had formed in my stomach since they’d all entered the room loosen up. I had at least one ally in a high place.

“
If
there’s something to look into,” Gheorghios added, and Hui Zhong actually raised an eyebrow—the first expression I’d seen on her face so far. Benjamin was frowning. The lines of his face had deepened, and the result was disconcerting.

I hesitated. Should I tell them about Dotty’s son getting a visit from the kidnapper? My instincts told me not to. As far as I knew, said kidnapper wasn’t aware his message had already been delivered, and that ought to keep Mark safe for a bit longer. “Could you—could you let me know if you find my neighbor? Her son needs her.” I knew I was asking for a lot, but I liked Dotty.

“We’re done here. You can go now.” Ádísa, ever helpful, waved one hand toward the exit.

I was about to object—beg, if I had to—when John said, “We’ll keep you posted.” It was more than I could have hoped for, although I was still planning on looking deeper into Dotty’s disappearance myself.

Ádísa stressed her dismissal by folding an arm behind her head, arching her back, and yawning.

I have never had any illusions concerning my appearance, nor have I had any complexes. Well, not lately. I am aware that I’m not a stunner, but I’m definitely pretty and can turn heads with just a little effort. And makeup. All in all, I have confidence in my looks even with my handful or two of extra pounds. When Ádísa stretched, that confidence wavered.

Seeing her exhibit how much I was boring her should have been insulting; she’d probably meant it to be. The only thought that crossed my mind, however, was that
I
would probably cheat on me with her. Toned abs, high cheekbones, bee-stung lips, golden mane, and we’ve covered the boobs, right? Her curves looked preordered, and knowing they weren’t pissed me off to no end. I pinched the inside of Constantine’s bicep, just because he’d let her seduce him.

Since I was pinching, I kept my hold on him as I rose to leave. Constantine stood next to me and gave the council a little bow. Placing his hand at the small of my back, he guided us toward the exit.

“Not you, darling.” She even
sounded
gorgeous, damn it, her voice throaty and melodic.

Constantine turned to her. “Pardon?”

I took a couple of steps forward, fully aware ignoring her was impolite, yet not caring.

Then she said, “I thought maybe you’d like to see me home,” and my feet suddenly ceased moving.

To his credit, Constantine didn’t really jump at the suggestion. “It isn’t gentlemanly to let the lady I’m escorting return home alone.”

“We’re not in the eighteen hundreds anymore.” She laughed. “I’m sure your little friend can find her way home.”

Little friend
? Grrr!

“She can’t, Ádísa. She doesn’t know where we are, nor should she find out.” Nice! He just wanted to pretend he was protecting the council? He didn’t have the balls to tell her he didn’t want to go anywhere with her? Unless maybe he did.

He must have sensed my irritation because he reached over the distance between us and put a hand on my shoulder. It had a calming effect; I realized he was protecting me by trying not to piss her off. I was happy my back was still to them; I doubted she’d appreciate my face-splitting grin. And it was face-splitting. My jaw hurt from it.

“Rowland can drive her, then.” There was such finality in her tone that Constantine didn’t put up more argument.

The human all but ran to my side. A peek over my shoulder showed me the others had left. The sneaky bastards hadn’t made a sound. Ádísa was holding out her arms for Constantine. Her gaze met mine, and she blew me a kiss.

Bitch.

* * * *

Constantine would be safe and would probably enjoy himself immensely, if he wasn’t doing so already. I would be safe too. I was certain of that, despite having been blindfolded as soon as I’d stepped out of the building. Still, refraining from bitching took all the energy I had. The council hadn’t exactly shown interest in what I’d told them. I was tired, hungry, and my hot ex, with whom I had unresolved issues, had been practically vamp-napped by your stereotypical sexy femme fatale. The latter wasn’t my worry; it just annoyed me.

The ride was quiet and uneventful. Rowland wasn’t the world’s best conversationalist—or talkative at all—but he was nice enough to offer me a reheated bottle of blood when I mentioned I hadn’t eaten in more than twenty-four hours. I needed to feed so badly that I thought it didn’t taste half bad for a packaged meal.