To Walk the Night (18 page)
“So, if you didn’t kill him, what did he want?”
I told him about my conversation with Adrian. I didn’t leave anything out. Since I was telling him about it, I might as well get it all out now. There really wasn’t much to say. It only took me a couple of minutes to spill the entire story.
“Did you consider his offer?” Ethan asked when I was done.
“No. Why would I? He tried to have me killed.”
Ethan relaxed visibly. I hadn’t even noticed him tense up. “Good,” he said. “It’s never good to work with the bad guys.”
I gave him a sharp glance. He was grinning.
“Maybe I will send you out to gather information next time,” I said. “It might do you good to get out once and a while, to see the world. The world isn’t simply made up of good guys and bad guys anymore.”
“I would, but sorry,” he said, rising. “Agoraphobe, remember?”
“Right.” I couldn’t help but smile. Just talking to Ethan could raise my spirits. It was why I would never put him out, no matter what stupid thing he did.
“I’m going to take a shower,” he said, heading for the stairs. “I smell like donkey doo.” He laughed, though it was clear he was still upset about our little spat, but he was at least able to joke. That was good. I didn’t know what I would do if ever I drove him away with my anger. I mean, he had survived this long summoning and working with a demon. How bad could it really be?
21
The day came and went, and before I knew it, I was on my motorcycle, heading for the Luna Cult Den. After so many consecutive nights of clear skies and brisk breezes, I was surprised to find a light mist in the air. Dark, heavy clouds obscured the moon, depositing their moisture on the denizens of the sleepless city. It would have been refreshing if it hadn’t been such an ominous sign.
I didn’t bother parking any closer to the Den than the last few times I had been here. The alley seemed as safe a place as any to park, and after walking the roads a couple of times, I knew it would be futile to attempt to drive them. I didn’t mind walking in the light rain. It gave me time to think, to make sure that this was actually what I wanted.
My pace quickened as the rain picked up. The wind was blowing cold, sending a chill straight through my leather and into my bones. It was still early by vampire standards. That didn’t make the empty streets seem any more welcoming. In fact, it made the walk that much worse.
I was sure someone was watching me. It held a strange sort of comfort knowing that if something were to jump out at me, someone from the Luna Cult might show up and help me take care of the problem. Not that I thought I needed help. It was just nice to know it was there.
I picked my way through the dark streets, empty alleys, and around rundown buildings until I was finally standing on the green before the Luna Cult Den. It looked as dead and empty as always, though I did see one Cultist hurry into the building at my approach. I never even saw a light shining through the open door before it closed.
The rain pattered on the sidewalk as I made my slow way toward the front door. I knew what I was doing was stupid. As friendly as he seemed, Jonathan was still a werewolf. The closer I came to the Den, the more it seemed like a bad idea. I knew I should turn around, knew it would be the smart thing to do.
Before my fears caused me to change my mind, I was standing in front of the doors to the old library. I didn’t even have a chance to knock before the doors opened and two Cultists I didn’t know stepped out to greet me. Neither looked happy about the job, but they were at least civil. It was more than I could say about my big Mexican friend the last two times I was there. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be in attendance tonight.
The Cultists led me through the bottom floor to the stairs. I followed them up the stairs and to a pair of large gilded doors on the second floor.
The doors were clearly a new addition to the building. It didn’t match the décor of the library at all. They were carved with images of men turning into werewolves, some in the process of shifting. Others were fully human, but something about the way they were carved gave them a definite wolfish appearance. Surrounding them were fully shifted werewolves, their mouths open as if howling at the window at the top of the door. It was circular, and was colored and stained to look just like the full moon.
My Cultist guides bowed their heads to me, though I noted their eyes never left my face, before scurrying off to perform whatever duties they had been assigned. The doors remained closed, and there was no one outside them to direct me inside. The entire Den seemed empty, in fact. I had barely seen anyone on my short trip to the second floor.
I looked around once to make sure I hadn’t overlooked anyone, then shrugged. The two Cultists hadn’t knocked for me, so I supposed I was supposed to take the hint and go in myself. I pushed open the doors and went in, my right hand lingering near the hilt of my sword.
The doors opened up into a well-furnished room that looked as though it had been yanked straight from some extravagant mansion and dropped into the middle of the old library. Bookshelves lined one entire wall. The books on them were old and leather bound. Large couches faced each other at the center of the room. They were covered in red velvet and silks hung over their backs, giving them a soft, flowing look. Pillows decorated the couches, each matching the décor of the rest of the room.
I took another step in and the doors swung slowly closed behind me. A wet bar stood to my left in an alcove I hadn’t been able to see from the doorway. A man in a tux stood behind the small counter, his hands behind his back. He never even flinched as I entered. He stared straight ahead, not seeming to be aware of anything going on around him at all. He was bald, of course, and the Luna Cult tattoo in the middle of his forehead looked old and faded.
A moment later, doors on the opposite end of the room opened and Jonathan strode through, beaming confidence. His black pinstriped suit was ironed and looked stiff and uncomfortable. He didn’t wear his usual hood, and the flat portion of his head and his mangled features stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his garb. Nathan and Gregory stepped out behind him, similarly dressed.
“I’m glad you decided to come,” Jonathan said, moving to stand at the center of the room. “I feared you might not show up, or if you did, you would come so late we wouldn’t have time to properly dress you.” He ran his hand over the silk decorating one of the couches. “I have considered how we might get you inside without setting off anyone’s internal alarms. You have this way about you that screams vampire, and I fear Count Tremaine will pick up on it too quickly for us to get in place.”
I didn’t move forward to greet him. I held my ground at the door, still unsure I was doing the right thing. Even though I loved my leather, I felt extremely underdressed. I had no intention of wearing anything else. This was a kill mission for me, not a banquet.
“What do you have in mind?” I asked, scanning the room. There didn’t seem to be any more doorways, though I hadn’t seen the one Jonathan had come in until the door had opened. It was worked into the design of the room so that it was nearly invisible.
Nathan and Gregory stood flanking Jonathan. Gregory had his usual grin in place and he gave me a quick, almost childlike wave. It might have been cute if it hadn’t looked so awkward on him. Nathan glowered at me, like usual, and I gave him a smile that set his teeth to grinding.
“I was thinking that instead of having you slip in and risk being discovered apart from the group, we can disguise you as one of us.”
“You already suggested that. I get a fake tattoo and try to blend in once I meet up with the rest of you. I would prefer to keep my gear on, so if you have a robe or something I can wear over my things, that would do.” Nathan smirked as if what I said was amusing. I ignored him. “I’ll go in through the window like planned and meet up with you afterward.”
Jonathan waved his hand in dismissal. “I don’t believe that will work.”
“Why not?” Anger flared up in my words. I hated it when plans changed at the last minute. I usually spent a long time working on my plans and kept to them as much as possible. Too many changes too close to go time tended to make things fall apart that much faster. People died when things went wrong. I had no intention of dying.
“There is one detail about you that will not fit in with the rest of the Cult.” He ran his fingers through what remained of his hair. “Unless you are willing to shave your head to fit in, you could not pass for one of the Luna Cult. And you definitely would never be able to pass yourself off as a werewolf.”
I shook my head. “Not happening.” I wasn’t one of those girls who spent hours messing with her hair, but I was still attached to it. I seriously doubted the bald look would suit me.
“That is why I decided to come up with another way.” Jonathan took a step forward but stopped as Nathan laid a hand on his arm.
“Don’t,” the big man said between clenched teeth. “I don’t trust her. We should forget about all of this and do this on our own. She is too much of a risk.”
“A risk that we must take if we expect to keep our freedom,” Jonathan said, never taking his eyes from me. “Let me go, Nathan, or I will be forced to leave you behind.”
Nathan’s jaw tightened. He looked like he was going to say more, but instead, he simply removed his hand from Jonathan’s arm and resumed glaring at me.
Jonathan brushed his sleeve where Nathan had touched him, smoothing out the nearly imperceptible wrinkles. “If you would let me, I would like to cast a glamour on you. I will disguise you so that no one will be able to recognize you as anything but a member of the Cult.”
I stiffened. “I don’t think so.” Magic was something I didn’t want to have anything to do with, and with good reason. It wasn’t something I could touch, something I could see. Something I could kill. It was the force that defied all normal explanation, something I couldn’t fully wrap my head around no matter how many times I thought about it.
Those with the power were able to do things I could only dream about. They had power that could rarely be controlled by normal means. The strongest of the sorcerers could kill with a single word, a flick of the wrist. Those men and women were hunted down, extinguished as soon as possible. They were a threat, a threat that not even the vampires could control.
Some of those sorcerers rose to power early on when the vampires and werewolves originally took over, thinking themselves safe in the changed world. They viewed themselves as equals to the vampires, even wanted to become monsters so that they would share in their supposed immortality.
Instead, they found themselves destroyed by their own magic and the monsters they thought would protect them. Now, only a few scattered sorcerers still existed. Most could only do harmless charms anymore, fearing anything more powerful would draw attention to them. I was sure there were still powerful sorcerers tucked away somewhere, waiting for the moment to strike.
My thoughts drifted to Ethan and his demon. What kind of power did I have lurking in my very own house?
The thought made me shudder. And here Jonathan was, wanting to cast a glamour on me. It was probably one of the simplest and most harmless things a sorcerer could do to another person, and yet just the thought of him working magic on me made my skin crawl.
“It will only be for the night,” he said, taking another step forward. “As soon as you no longer need it, you can drop the glamour yourself just by thinking about it. Your will alone can shatter a glamour cast on you. There is no harm in allowing this. The glamour will hide your weapons, as well as your features, allowing you to enter without anyone noticing something is amiss.”
I shook my head again. “I don’t trust you. I don’t trust anyone who can do what you do, let alone anyone who is what you are.”
“Understandable.”
I wracked my brain for a way out of this. I knew Jonathan would probably demand I go through with it before he allowed me to leave. Something about the way he looked at me, the way he stood with his back straight, face set in a determined stare, said he had made up his mind about this long before I arrived. If I wanted to take down the Minor House with him, I was going to have to accept the glamour.
“What will this involve?” I asked at a near growl. I really didn’t want to do this, but what choice did I have?
“All you need to do is relax. When you feel my power flow over you, accept it. If you fight it, it will be repulsed and the glamour will not stick. It is important you stay calm.” He smiled. “Think happy thoughts.”
Yeah right. I rested my hand on the hilt of my sword just to let him know how little I liked this and closed my eyes. There was no way in the world I was going to be able to relax. I was in a room with three werewolves, and I was actually going to let one of them do something to me. What in the hell was wrong with me?
Jonathan whispered something I couldn’t quite make out and a flow of power washed over me. It was like a heavy, wet breeze that left no moisture on my skin, disturbed not a single hair on my head. It flowed over my body, covered me head to foot, and I had to fight to keep from tensing and backing away.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled. It felt like something much akin to a spider web was brushing against the nape of my neck, over my face and hands. My fingertips tingled and twitched on their own accord. My eyelids fluttered and I opened my eyes to see Jonathan standing before me, a small half smile on his face.
“That wasn’t so bad, now was it?” he said, motioning me toward a mirror on the far side of the room.
I gave him a wary look and moved to the mirror. It was built into the wall and was full-length, giving me a good view of myself. I stepped in front of it and couldn’t stifle the gasp that rose to my lips.
I recognized my face, or at least part of it. My mouth was pretty much the same, if not a little fuller, a little redder. My eyes were the same eyes I had seen looking back at me in hundreds of mirrors before, but my cheekbones seemed higher, sharper. My dark hair was gone, replaced by a shining, shaved scalp. The mark of the Luna Cult stood out in the center of my forehead like a beacon. The skin around it was red and irritated, as if it had just recently been added. Heavy-looking robes hung around my shoulders, and there was no hint of my weapons within its folds.
“The eyes are the hardest,” Jonathan said, coming to stand next to me. “There is something about the eyes that refuses to be changed, especially when the glamour is cast by someone with my limited power.”
I questioned how limited his power really was, considering he had cast a glamour over the entire Den, as well as the one now disguising me. I wondered if he had to maintain each, using a chunk of his power to do so, or if once they were cast, they would stay up until dispelled. I thought about asking him but changed my mind. I could ask about it later if we survived.
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