Natural Consequences (61 page)

She reached up to tap on the glass with her fingernails and then gave a small sarcastic wave.

Though vampires did not need to breathe, Wentworth maintained the habit to keep up appearances. He evaluated the newcomers and the overall situation in the time it took to inhale and let the air out again with a disgusted grumble. Then he stepped forward to unlock and slide open the glass door.

“I trust you have not slain or unduly harmed my sentries?” he asked irritably.

“Not at all,” the woman replied in a mildly defensive tone. “We came to talk.”

“Yes, I know.” He noted the quizzical rise of her eyebrow and gestured for her to enter. “Even if you had overwhelming force, your instincts would still compel you to attack with stealth and surprise. This assembly is meant to impress me with the strength you have chosen
not
to use,” he explained, gesturing to the others.

The woman stepped inside and offered her hand with a smile. “I am Diana.”

“Wentworth, Lord Mayor of New York,” nodded the vampire. He took her hand, then dropped it to eye her companions. “I presume you will want someone to accompany you inside?”

“I wouldn’t want to fall prey to your hypnotic stare,” she said, her lips pursed with amusement. “Billy. Come in, please,” Diana gestured to the scruffiest of the bunch. To his credit, he removed his ball cap and held it in both hands.

Wentworth didn’t look at him long enough to allow for introductions. He gestured to the table and chairs at the breakfast nook, not waiting for his guests to take a seat before he claimed one for himself with a clear path to the exit. Diana pointed to a chair for Billy before she took her own.

“I take it you’re the alpha wolf?” Wentworth asked, doing his best to smother his unpleasant mood.

“That’s not a term we use, actually,” said Diana. “The concept of alpha wolves came from studies done solely on wolves in captivity. They don’t act like that in the wild.” She fixed him with a steady gaze. “And whatever our animal natures, we are not mere animals. We are still people with human brains.”

“Indeed,” Wentworth said. He gave a curt nod of acknowledgement. “Then I would ask if you lead this group, or if instead you speak for the leader? I had thought the packs of this area answered to one called Caleb?”

“Caleb is dead. I have succeeded him. The packs answer to me.”

“
Excellent. You are already far more poised and pleasant than any other of your kind I have met.” For a brief moment, Wentworth considered his further questions and the value of small talk. He promptly decided to forego all of that. “What do you want?”

She tilted her head to acknowledge his forthright manner. “Apparently I want something I cannot have.” She waited to see if he understood the implication and then explained, “You and yours meant to kill him the other night.”

“Carlisle,” Wentworth said darkly.

“Yes. I only arrived as things got out of hand there. A packmate observed you and the rest for a short bit before that, but he didn’t quite understand what was going on. You blame him for what happened to the vampires of Seattle?”

“We do,” confirmed Wentworth, “though likely not Carlisle alone.” He considered his next words carefully. “We are aware that the Lady Anastacia held you prisoner at the time.”

“
Yes,” Diana nodded. “I escaped as a result of all that happened, though I don’t claim to understand all that went on or why. I first met Carlisle while we were both prisoners. We helped one another escape, though his associates came to his rescue at about that same time. You met one the other night—the angel.”

“Do you know if he killed the Lady
Anastacia?”

Diana shook her head. “I don’t know for sure, but I don’t think so. I don’t know who specifically killed her.
Alex had other matters on his mind at the time. Anastacia and her court were a complication for him, not a focus. You are aware of the demon?”

“I am aware of
a
demon, yes,” Wentworth emphasized deliberately. “We have not met. Cornelius recognized her name and perhaps knew her, but he did not elaborate. Now he is gone, at Carlisle’s hands and in front of many witnesses. Even if he did not murder the Lady, there is blood on his hands that cannot be ignored. Your kind may be our enemy, but none would question the practicality of calling a truce, or at least talking like this. Carlisle is mortal. He is livestock.”

She smiled faintly. “I see. If you let that slide, what’s next? They’ll let women vote and allow blacks to use public restrooms?”

“Precisely so,” Wentworth agreed, “and then—!” He stopped himself, his mind only then catching up to his mouth. He frowned. “Cute.” He paused to consider his next words. “You intervened before he was killed in the bus tunnel, but you also fought the angel. You say Carlisle is something you cannot have?”

“He would have made an excellent mate,” nodded Diana, “but I see now that those two whores have ruined him. The angel and the demon,” she elaborated when his eyebrow rose. “I won’t bore you with the details.”

“You’re too kind,” Wentworth deadpanned. “So if that’s the case, then why haven’t you and your pack moved on? Oh, no, wait. Don’t tell me,” he said, holding up one hand. “If you can’t have him, no one will?”

“That is one way of putting it, yes. Mr. Wentworth, does this amuse you?”

“Somewhat,” he mused, tapping idly on the table. “You have such poise and diction. You’re clearly educated. This blend of post-graduate sophistication and trailer park murder motives is quite striking.”

Silent until now, Billy all but choked. Diana’s eyes narrowed. Neither reaction seemed to bother the vampire in the slightest. “Mr. Wentworth,” she asked, “why is it that your kind and mine don’t get along?”

The vampire snorted. “We like to see ourselves as unchallenged masters of our territories. We’re predators and we don’t like threats or competition. The same goes for your kind. Naturally, we don’t like anything that unsettles those perceptions.”

“Is there no deeper reason than that?” Diana pressed thoughtfully. “You come from a society of people who live for centuries. Surely there are stories of how all this conflict originated? Where your kind and mine came from?”

Taken aback by her question and her earnest expression, Wentworth found himself at a loss. “This not a turn I expected in our conversation,” he said, “though I didn’t exactly expect to talk to you tonight at all. We might do best to stick with one subject at a time.”

She sat back in her chair, looking disappointed. “Fine. You lost many of your fighters the other night—some to my pack, a couple to Alex and his friends, but mostly to the angel, correct?”

“Correct,” confirmed Wentworth.

“And you plan to pursue your vendetta?”

“We must.”

“Then you will face the angel again. Your forces are not up to that task.” She waited for him to object, but he did not. “We hurt her.”

“Did you now?” Wentworth asked mildly.

“Yes,” said Diana. He couldn’t help but note a glint of bloodlust in her eye. “We were distracted by your fighters. We were unprepared to face her. But given a second chance, without such complications? We would end her. I am sure of it.”

“You’ve come to offer an alliance?”

“I came to offer a deal, anyway. We help you against the angel—and the demon, who will undoubtedly get involved before this is all over—and you cede Seattle to me. It’s rather shy on resident vampires these nights, anyway.” Again, she offered a friendly smile. “You’ll be a hero among your kind. Peace with a werewolf pack, vengeance for your lost associates, and the statement that not even Heaven itself can strike at you without being paid back in kind. And you’ll have the chance to see Alex dead—by your hands or by our claws, what does it matter?”

Wentworth considered her words. She offered a better deal than she knew. “I have to wonder why you don’t simply go after all this on your own if you’re so sure of your power?”

“
Two reasons. First, we have the strength, but we have lost the scent. Your kind always has greater resources than mine.”

“And the other?”

“As much as I might want to snuff out Carlisle and his friends,” said Diana, “I
could
walk away from all of this. My rage does not outweigh my interest in survival. I come to you offering aid and alliance because you have something to offer.”

Wentworth’s eyebrows rose. “And that would be…?”

“Immortality.”

The proposal shocked him. It plainly shocked her
companion, too, but he could not even form words to voice an objection. A single glance from Diana ensured his cowed silence.

Wentworth
paused to let the implications catch up. “You understand that you would not become some hybrid powerhouse?” he asked. “Those are myths. You would become like us, but the beast within you would die in the transition.”

“Your kind is not without power,” said
Diana. “Certain conversations have lately convinced me that longevity is preferable to primal might for souls like ours.”

Again, Wentworth took the moment to think. As much as he wanted to take her up on her proposal, the truth was that Carlisle’s trail had gone cold.

Then the kitchen door opened. Unferth walked in carrying a cell phone in his hands and murder in his eyes.

Normal children feared the dark. They knew monsters lurked in the shadows, waiting to pounce. Darkness hid mundane dangers, too. One could so easily trip over something unseen, or get lost, or tumble down a hole. Nobody liked it when they couldn’t see. But children understood that darkness could hold more than just loose toys or tree roots. Children knew that monsters preferred the darkness.

That had been Onyx’s first clue that she wasn’t normal. She liked being alone in the dark just fine. If monsters could hide there, so could she.

It helped that her sight and hearing had always been so sharp. Onyx often sensed trouble before it found her. She didn’t recognize this talent until later in life, when her fascination with fictional magic led her to real research, and then dabbling and one day actual practice. Onyx learned to use senses beyond her eyes and ears, but she also learned to make the most of those natural gifts.

She could deal with a cloudy, moonless night. She could handle wet grass and tall trees. She could handle fog, too… even if it had been summoned up by her companion.

Molly followed close behind Onyx, partly distracted by the need to maintain her hold on the fog. A month ago, this would have been much more difficult. Neither woman expected that an exodus of most of the other Practitioners of the city—those that survived the fight at Kanatova’s party—would make it easier to work their own magic. They couldn’t complain about the outcome. Fewer Practitioners in a given place meant more power for those who remained.

As always, mundane effort made magic that much more effective. Onyx and Molly dressed for the task in dark pants and black jackets. They moved with care and deliberate stealth. They avoided the roads, the parking lots and trails that ran through the
park.

Beyond the tree
line stretched an expanse of unkempt grass. Past that lay a parking lot, and on the other side of that stood a broad, three-story brick building. Onyx pointed to the building, then put her hand in Molly’s and whispered in her ear to briefly share the supernatural acuity of her vision.

“Occupied,” Molly murmured softly. It was obvious enough. Several cars sat outside the building. There were lights on, too—but in each window,
drapes or blinds covered the lights.

“No signs on the building, either,” whispered Onyx. “UW and NOAA marked all the buildings they use. All the other old Navy buildings got boarded up or…” Onyx fell silent, placing a hand on Molly’s shoulder. She turned her head toward sounds Molly couldn’t hear. Her hand gripped tightly in sudden alarm.

Molly already had her wand in hand. She twirled it in her fingers to hold it pointing down, pushed herself and Onyx back against the nearest tree and plunged the tip of her wand into the soft, wet earth. Slowly and silently, the tree branches bent lower around them. The grass at their feet grew higher, and with it the stems of rhododendrons that had never gone into bloom. The bushes rose almost a foot with each breath the women took. It was imperfect cover, but in the darkness they didn’t need more than that. They only needed something to break up the sight lines.

Another breath passed. Then another. Eventually, Molly heard the soft padding of footsteps from behind them. Her eyes turned right and she saw what Onyx had
heard: a huge grey wolf, over three feet tall at the shoulder, sniffing through the grass. Molly kept one hand on her wand. The other gently reached into the pocket of her jacket to pull out a few leaves. She inhaled from her right and exhaled to her left, dropping the leaves to her left.

Onyx watched intently. She felt th
e breeze shift, bringing them downwind of the wolf. She heard it sniff and watched its ears twitch, but the beast seemed to relax its vigilance. It sat to look over its shoulder and let out a soft whine.

It waited. Molly and Onyx could do little but watch and listen. Each could deal with a mere wolf. Neither one thought for a
second that it was that simple.

Onyx heard the others before Molly did. A silent gesture and a squeeze of her shoulder told her partner how to shift the wind again to give them the best chance of remaining undetected. Molly did so with some effort, knowing that she would soon lose her hold on the fog as a result of all this. It seemed a small price to pay when the other wolves appeared to their left and to their right, sitting or standing in wait uncomfortably close to their tree.

Even Onyx barely heard the arrivals that followed before she could see them. Human shapes in black clothing of wildly varying styles emerged from the darkness. Some carried weapons. Others appeared empty-handed. With her sharp eyes and even the minimal light from the building, Onyx could see the wolves’ breath. As near as she could tell, these people didn’t breathe at all… and they were many.

* * *

A loud, pounding fist on the door snapped Lorelei and Rachel from their silent embrace. Lorelei still sat in her chair, with her arms restrained behind its backrest by several pairs of handcuffs. Rachel knelt beside her, arms still wrapped around Lorelei’s waist. The angel was indifferent to the cold, hard tile. Lorelei lifted her head from Rachel’s shoulder. Rachel turned to look back at the door as it opened a mere inch.

“Hey in there,” a man asked, “do you need food, or is that not a thing for you?”

“Yes,” Lorelei answered. “I hunger.”

“Sandwiches okay
? Or do you have crazy demon dietary requirements?”

“I will take what I can.”

“Is it my imagination,” asked Rachel, “or were those loaded statements?”

“If Alex cannot sate my needs, I must tend to them myself,” Lorelei murmured with her eyes still on the door. “
You always please me, but I draw more strength from mortals. My power returns too slowly. I grow bored with this place. ”

Rachel’s eyes widened as she slipped back from her lover. The sinister tone in Lorelei’s words sent a wave of desire through the angel. “Woah, wait a fuckin’ sec here,” she stammered. “You’re not gonna—I mean—oh fuck, you are, aren’t you?”

“My opportunities are dictated by who comes through that door. The women of this group would not be susceptible. Much as I would love to ruin Hauser, he is undeserving.” Lorelei’s head tilted curiously. “I suppose I have changed more than I thought.”

“Yeah, but… I mean… uh…”

“They could always refuse me.”

“Name one mortal who ever turned you down?”

“Alex.”

“Yeah, for like a
day
,” Rachel noted.

Lorelei nodded solemnly. “It was amazing.” Her eyes turned to Rachel’s. They all but left her melting. “To be fair, I was in much worse shape at the time. Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.”

“Gentle?”

“I may plant suggestions and reassurance, but the fun is in the temptation. Blunt mind control is for brutes and amateurs.” She grinned wickedly. “They have to give in willingly in the end if either of us are to enjoy it.”

The door came unlocked again. First to enter was one of the guards, still clad in black BDUs and body armor. Following him was one of the agents carrying a simple fast food bag and a drink.

Lorelei smiled. “Agent
Bridger. I hoped to see you again. Who is your friend?”

Bridger
hesitated. So did the guard. It lasted only a heartbeat, but Lorelei saw it. So did the invisible angel in the room.

“I’m
Theo—“

“I’m not sure we want to get into all that,”
Bridger interrupted.

“Must we be so extreme?” Lorelei asked. “You no doubt wove spells to defend the both of you against malevolent influence. I can only talk to you, and I mean none of you harm. Please, Agent
Bridger, Theo,
relax. Do not fear me.
”

Standing against one wall to bear witness, Rachel winced. She knew that tone and the effect it could have. Sure enough, she saw a slight change in the stance and body language of the two men. They didn’t let their guard down completely, but it was enough to signal Lorelei’s success.
Bridger’s sorcery wasn’t strong enough to block out Lorelei’s supernatural influence. Neither man appeared capable of ignoring her natural charms, either.

Oblivious to the angel,
Theo took up a spot beside Lorelei. He rested his hands over his belt buckle in a ready stance. He then adjusted his pants while no one looked—no one except the angel on the other side of the room, at least, who covered her face with one embarrassed hand.

Bridger
stood directly in front of Lorelei, his expression still one of wariness and professionalism. “I’m a little surprised that you need food. Everything I have read about succubi says that’s not the case.”

“Succubae, Agent
Bridger,” Lorelei corrected. She stared up at him, leaning forward as much as her bonds allowed. Her choice of outfits hadn’t focused on showing off any of her assets, but posture alone conveyed the proper message. “You may find the accuracy of your research is mixed. You must
open yourself
to personal experience if you wish true mastery of a subject.”

Bridger
’s eyes fluttered. “What’s inaccurate?”

“I don’t presume to have read all there is to read,” Lorelei said, “but I imagine your sources paint me as a dangerous woman eager to fuck men to death for my own enjoyment?”
No objective observer would miss the seductive tones and slow, enticing cadence of her voice. Again, she glanced at Theo, wanting to make sure he felt engaged in this conversation. “I cannot harm anyone in a
single, casual tryst.
” She smiled. “Sometimes it’s
just for fun
.”

“We just came in here to give you a dinner break and go,” he said, swallowing hard. “It’s not an interrogation or anything.”

“Does it have to be an interrogation for us to talk?” she asked. “I’m much friendlier in private settings.”

“Shit, the door,”
Theo muttered. He stepped over to close it.

“What are you…?” blinked
Bridger.

“
Relax
,” Lorelei repeated. “It’s just us. No one needs to know.
No one will know.
” Once again, both men lost some of their wariness. Their eyes fluttered. Every word carried alluring notes. Her lips spread in a smile subtle enough to seem natural despite the setting. “I cannot hurt you. I am bound. If I were able to escape, I’d have done so before now, wouldn’t I?”

“She’s got a point,” said
Theo.

Bridger
shot him a look. “Let me do the talking, alright?”

“Oh, we don’t have to be like that,” Lorelei said. She glanced to each of the men standing over her, feeling her power rise as their willpower and common sense waned. “I can accommodate both of you.”

Rachel slapped her other hand over her face.

* * *

Alex stood and held out his hands as instructed. A guard came in and cuffed his right wrist, and then his left—but this time the cuffs went on with his hands in front rather than behind his back. Alex looked down quizzically at his bonds and then up toward the door again. He found the answer in the form of a sandwich and a soda in Keeley’s hands.

“Have a seat,” Keeley gestured to the cot. It was the only furniture in the old office. Keeley stepped inside and held the food out to Alex once he sat down. The guard
left, closing the door behind him. Keeley leaned up against it, folding his arms over his chest and taking up a relaxed stance. “How are you holding up?”

“I’m not sure how to answer that,” said Alex. Given the handcuffs, he fumbled around a bit as he unwrap
ped his food. “I figured if I got food at all, you’d probably just handcuff me to another chair and spoon-feed me. Or put me on a liquid diet.”

“
Hey, like Hauser said, you’ve got some crazy skills. I figure you haven’t practiced fighting in handcuffs, though. Not many people do. Y’know, we have the story Cohen told Amber, but you’re the one with all the memories, right?”

“What is it you want to know?” Alex asked. He opened up the sandwich to see what was in it, just to make sure it wasn’t drowned in some foul dressing.
Something inside said to eat it regardless. Those fragmented memories Keeley hinted at all agreed that he should never pass up an opportunity to eat or nap while in trouble like this.

Keeley huffed. “Hell, everything. Anything. I’m a history buff.”

“I don’t remember things clearly,” Alex shook his head. “A lot of it is a jumble. It’s like I can’t be sure what I actually remember, what I’m imagining, and what I piece together between bits of memory and stuff I’ve seen on TV or read in books.”

“I gather it’s not pleasant?”

Alex chewed on his sandwich. “No,” he said, then gulped hard. “Mostly not.”

“Do you feel older and wiser since all those memories came along? Or do you still feel like you’re twenty?”

“A little of both,” Alex shrugged. “The memories aren’t solid.” He wondered where the agent wanted this conversation to go. “I feel like I just left behind a few hundred miles of emotional baggage, okay? I’m not eager to go delve back into it. You’d get more out of talking to a historian than you would out of me, ‘cause I’d only know my own experiences. I’m pretty sure I did a lot of farming. Anyway, have you talked to the others already tonight? Or am I the first?”