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Authors: Jess Haines

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BOOK: Forsaken by the Others
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Chapter 20
We waited until daybreak to make a run for it.
We took Trinity’s car. Not intending to steal it forever, of course—just to get us
where we needed to go. As soon as we were sure Fabian was gone, I dug out the number
Devon had given me and called him, letting him know that Sara and I were in hot water
and needed a place to stay. He gave us an address and directions, and I told him we’d
meet him first thing in the morning.
None of the vampires could follow us, and their human servants were more interested
in keeping people out than trying to keep anyone from leaving. Though I was sure Clyde
and Fabian would both be pissed, I was hoping they would consider us too minor a threat
to put much effort into tracking us down.
Sara and I didn’t have anywhere else to go. If we tried to return to Gavin, no doubt
he wouldn’t be happy to see us and might even kill us for showing up uninvited on
his doorstep a second time. If we tried to go back to Thrane, Gideon might hurt him
or other members of his flock. Without credit cards or IDs, I wasn’t sure that we
could travel, and we were not going to take a stolen car across state lines. At most,
we’d take it across town and maybe mail the keys and a note with the address where
we’d parked it to Clyde once we found a place to stay.
Unless he ticked me off. Then the keys might end up in a gutter somewhere. I hadn’t
decided yet.
We drove around for a while, taking a fairly circuitous route in order to lose any
tail Clyde might have set on us. Once the sun had already been up for a while, and
Sara and I were both starving, we thought it was safe to head to our assigned meeting
spot with Devon. We hit a drive-thru first, grabbing some coffee and breakfast sandwiches,
then headed to the address we had been given in Glendale, right on the edge of Eagle
Rock.
The area was full of hills and winding roads, but we found our way easily enough with
the directions we had been given. Though I didn’t like the idea of having to march
up the steep incline into the hills, I was afraid the car might have some kind of
security system that Clyde or the cops could use to track it down, so I didn’t want
to park too close. If I’d had a choice, I would have parked it across the Valley and
had Devon pick us up instead, but I didn’t want to impose on his hospitality more
than we already were.
Sara was only a little bit winded, but my chest was heaving by the time we stopped
at our destination six mostly vertical blocks later, our bags in tow. The address
turned out to be a pretty nice house. Not of the caliber of Clyde’s mansion, of course,
but it was definitely in the upper-middle class range. White stucco walls and a red
tile roof gave it a clean, homey look, while the tiny lawn with miniature palms and
thick, manicured grass made it clear that whoever owned it took pride in maintaining
the place.
Devon answered the door on the third knock, his hair still wet from the shower and
wearing nothing but a pair of board shorts. He gave us both a boyish smile, far from
the predatory or fake grins I had been seeing so often since I got here.
“Shia, Sara—good to see you two again. Come on in.”
We stepped inside, following him deeper into the house. It was immaculate, with little
artwork or furniture, though that seemed to fit with the pale gray tile floors and
very white walls. It made the place blindingly bright, almost sterile.
He led us into a kitchen, gesturing for us to take seats at the table across the room.
All of the appliances looked new, and the scent of coffee was permeating the place
like the perfume of the gods.
Devon poured us both coffee, setting cream and sugar down before picking up a mug
for himself and leaning against the counter. He gestured with his mug. “You guys look
like you’ve been through hell. Are you going to be okay, or do you want to get some
sleep before you go into the details of what happened?”
I rubbed my eyes with one hand, saluting him with my mug in the other. “Hell is a
polite term for it. That necromancer is probably going to be looking for us as soon
as the sun goes down, assuming Clyde’s people don’t find us first.”
“Are you sure it’s okay for us to stay with you?” Sara asked.
“Of course. You two are always welcome here. Though I do want to get you out of town
as soon as possible. One of the other White Hats was planning a vacation in Vegas
in a couple of days. If you want to hide out here until then, you can probably hitch
a ride with him if you pitch in some gas money, and then catch a flight out of there
back to New York.”
That sounded like the sanest thing I’d heard since I had arrived in Los Angeles. I
gave him a tremulous smile. “Thanks, Devon. You really are a lifesaver. ”
“Don’t mention it. Though I would like to know what you two know about that necromancer.
I don’t like the idea of having one of those roaming free in my town. If you two ladies
came across any info about where he might be hiding, I can have someone start looking
for him now.”
“I really wouldn’t do that,” I said, my grip tightening on the mug until my fingers
burned.
“Why not? It’s just another kind of mage. We can do what we do with Weres and other
rogue mages. Snipe it.”
Sara choked on her coffee.
Concerned, he grabbed a towel off the counter and pressed it into her hands, then
thumped her on the back. It took her a minute to get her breath back. She blotted
at the spilled coffee and thanked him, her voice barely a whisper.
As for me, I had to swallow a few times around the sudden dryness in my mouth to speak.
And I wasn’t going to start by correcting his use of “mages” instead of “magi.”
“Devon, he’s against hurting normal people. He doesn’t deserve that.”
Frown lines appeared between his eyes, and for the first time since I’d met him, I
had the feeling I was on the opposite side of the playing field. “Don’t be naive.
He’s a necromancer, Shia. He deals with the dead. It’s unnatural.”
“It’s true,” Sara said, her voice scratchy from inhaling the coffee, “but he’s not
out to hurt humans. Just vampires. He’s here because he’s working with Fabian d’Argento,
the master vamp from San Francisco, to do something to Clyde. We’re not sure what
yet—but whatever it is, it’s bad.”
The hunter withdrew, his normally easygoing expression gone grave, his eyes distant
as he sized us up. I wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking. He’d saved me from
the clutches of Max Carlyle long ago. He’d helped Royce in the fight against Max and
his cronies, ensuring New York didn’t fall into the hands of a bigger, badder monster.
Would he see that, this time, the situation was no different? Clyde might not have
been the ideal biggest bad on the block, but I hadn’t the slightest doubt that things
around this town would rapidly worsen if the city fell into the hands of Fabian or
one of his cronies.
Sara coughed into her fist, then started speaking again, holding Devon’s gaze. “I
know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Isn’t there any other way of stopping him?
There’s been enough death already.”
“I don’t know. I’ll have to talk to the others and see what they have to say.”
I took another sip of my coffee, my thoughts racing. If we couldn’t talk the White
Hats out of sniping the poor bastard, that would be another death on my head. One
was more than enough. There had to be something I could do to stop it.
Though I hated the idea of putting myself back in harm’s way, I wasn’t sure how else
to warn the mage that he needed to get out of town. That was assuming I could find
him before the White Hats did, or before the vampires found me, and that he didn’t
try knocking me unconscious again. Or end up setting his zombies on me.
Why did I have to grow a conscience now? Things would have been so much easier if
I had just stepped back and let all of the monsters in this insane town do their thing
and destroy each other.
The problem with staying out of the mess was that I had no idea what Fabian might
choose to do to me or to Sara once Clyde was out of the way. Royce had made no mention
of him as an ally, and I was pretty sure that he wasn’t the other “friend” Royce had
mentioned we might have been able to stay with if not for Max Carlyle’s interference.
It felt awfully coincidental that all of this was happening while I was in town. I
hated that feeling, like someone had known in advance that I would be here, had planned
for it, and was pulling strings behind the scenes to make sure I would suffer because
of it.
“Sara, you look like you’re about to fall over. You want me to show you to a room?”
Devon’s words snapped my attention to my friend. He was right, of course. There were
deep circles under her bloodshot eyes, her skin was more pale than usual, and she
kept rubbing at her forearms through the fabric of her long sleeves as if they either
ached or itched. It seemed a bit warm for that type of clothing to me, but then, it
had been a long time since I’d seen her in any shirts that didn’t cover her arms all
the way to the wrist.
As if I wasn’t feeling bad enough already, I felt like a shit for taking so long to
notice that she wasn’t feeling well. Hopefully it was nothing more than a combination
of jet lag and lack of sleep catching up with her.
With a nod, she rose, setting her coffee aside. She’d barely touched it.
He offered her his arm and walked her out. I stayed where I was, cradling my drink
as I considered what to do next. I wasn’t going to abandon Sara again, but I was afraid
of staying here with the White Hats now that Devon had revealed they weren’t beyond
using tactics like shooting unsuspecting Others from afar. It shouldn’t have surprised
me—White Hats weren’t exactly known for their temperance or compassion where Others
were concerned—but it still bothered me that this was the same guy who had been so
willing to work with Chaz and Royce for my sake.
I didn’t know what kind of defenses a necromancer might have, but a bullet to the
head was usually enough to stop anyone in his or her tracks. The idea of murdering
the guy because he had no respect for dead bodies seemed a bit harsh, in my opinion.
Then again, I was now—sort of—friends with a number of vampires, and had even slept
with one. Not all Others were truly monsters. Or, rather, even if they were by nature
a monster, it didn’t mean their actions or character were always villainous.
No more than the necromancer, anyway. He certainly wasn’t an innocent, and his actions
weren’t completely aboveboard. Even if Trinity had been a bit of a skank, and kind
of bitchy, it didn’t mean she deserved to die either.
This was all too much to think about after an all-nighter without coffee. I downed
what little was left in my mug and looked up as Devon returned, his hands pocketed
and his expression pretty sober considering his state of relative undress.
“She was almost out before her head hit the pillow. You guys must have been working
hard.”
Saluting him with my mug, I made a face. “That’s us. Workaholics. It’s been nothing
but fun-fun-fun since we got here.”
His lips twitched in a smirk. “I can imagine.”
He moved closer, and I couldn’t help but admire the fine play of muscles on his abdomen
when he walked. No doubt, that was a gym-made washboard, but that didn’t make it any
less fun to watch in action.
Once he reached the table, he hooked the chair next to me with his foot and pulled
it out, sliding into it in a manner that I might well have called flirtatious if I
hadn’t known any better.
Who was I kidding? Of course he was flirting. He’d expressed interest in me before
he had left New York—why wouldn’t he want a few minutes alone with me? I could only
imagine how quickly that was going to change once he knew what my relationship with
Royce had become. If you could call what I had with the vampire a relationship.
Even so, I felt a pang of acute longing when I considered the possibility of staying
here in Los Angeles and attempting to make a go of things with Devon. He might have
been a hunter, but he was also human—the one thing I’d desperately craved in a relationship,
yet for whatever reason had never been able to find.
Giving in to the temptation of that admittedly delightful body would smack a bit too
much of betraying whatever it was I now had with Royce. Which didn’t make it hurt
any less when I took the coward’s way out.
“I’m sorry, but I’m really wiped, too. Where can I crash?” And hide from an inevitable
conversation I didn’t want to have?
Chapter 21
I didn’t get much sleep. When I took a look out the window, the sun was still high
in the sky. There wasn’t much point in trying to get back to sleep; my stomach was
growling, and I had too much on my mind to drift off again with any ease anyway.
I pulled some fresh clothes out of my duffel bag, frowning at the contents. Saving
the master vampire of the city from a devious necromancer didn’t leave much extra
time for laundry. I’d ask Devon what I could do about that later.
Sara was already downstairs and talking to Devon, Tiny, and a couple of other White
Hats I recognized from that bar we’d visited. She was looking a little better, but
there were still circles under her eyes, and there was something I couldn’t quite
put my finger on that seemed a bit “off” about her. Maybe she was coming down sick.
Tiny got up, drawing my attention off of Sara as he pulled out a seat for me, giving
me a friendly clap on the back that nearly sent me sprawling. With strength like that,
the guy could have easily been mistaken for an Other. Probably something Were. I grinned
and thumped him back on the arm before settling into the chair.
“We were just discussing what to do about this necromancer,” Devon said, giving me
a look that I interpreted as “and you’re really not going to like the direction this
talk is going, but try not to make a fuss about it, thanks.”
One of the other White Hats poked at the bowl of chips in the middle of the table,
stuffing some in his mouth before speaking around half-chewed crumbs. “I like Sara’s
idea. Maybe wait until that vamp from San Fran makes his move, then see what the necro
does next. If they’re both from up north, he might just leave after they get what
they want. And I’m all for someone taking out that poser, Clyde.”
“It’s less work for everyone if we just let them take each other out,” Devon said,
giving me a pointed look. Though I didn’t like the turn of the conversation, I kept
my mouth shut.
Letting the vampires destroy each other might not have bothered me so much if I hadn’t
spent time getting to know Mouse, Clarisse, Ken, and some of the others who lived
under Royce’s watchful eye. They were monsters, yes, but they were people, too. Even
if Clyde was an asshole, I wasn’t sure that he deserved what was coming.
Aside from which, if my doing nothing resulted in one or more of them dying, that
just didn’t sit right with me—but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. The White Hats
weren’t about to try to stop Others from killing each other, particularly if it made
their mop-up job of picking off the survivors easier. Hell, the White Hats might even
be pleased if the Others killed each other off and saved them the work of interfering.
Having to deal with the guilt of letting Clyde continue to be used by Fabian and of
having more (relatively) innocent vampires die at Gideon’s hands wasn’t high on my
to-do list. I could always call Royce and tell him to tell Clyde what I had learned,
or maybe hunt for a direct number in Trinity’s phone, but I wasn’t sure that Clyde
would believe me or have any way of stopping the gears Fabian had set in motion. There
was also no guarantee that alerting Clyde would prevent all-out war. It might only
act as a catalyst for a battle between the vampires for control of Los Angeles.
Perhaps Arnold would know how to neutralize the necromancer without hurting him. It
was the only solution I could think of that might head off what was starting to look
like an inevitable massacre.
“Guys, I just thought of something. Before we make any hasty decisions here, let me
give one of my friends a call. He might know how to stop the necromancer. If there’s
anything we can do to make him back off before things get rough, we might save some
lives, huh?”
Some of the hunters shrugged, none of them too enthused, but nobody disputed my request.
Probably because I didn’t specify that I wasn’t just hoping to save the lives of human
bystanders.
Sara gave me a look, mouthing “who?” at me. When I lifted my brows and wiggled my
fingers, she snorted and sat back. She got who I meant, but didn’t seem to think much
of my idea. Maybe she’d already asked him?
Even though I had Trinity’s cell phone with my things in the bedroom, I didn’t want
to risk the battery running out of charge since it was the only way Royce had to get
in touch with me. I turned to Devon, who put a plate of food in front of me. “Do you
have a phone I can use?”
“Sure. After you eat. You and Sara both need to stop waiting until you’re completely
worn out to take care of yourselves.”
Shrugging, I tucked into the food he set in front of me. He’d put food in front of
Sara, too, but she was only picking at it, not really eating it. That wasn’t a good
sign. Whatever was going on with her was worrisome, but I had a full list of issues
at the moment, so I’d have to find out what was up with her as soon as I was sure
the rest of the immediate messes I was dealing with were under control.
The other hunters talked about things that didn’t concern me. Where people I didn’t
know were hanging out tonight, who was coming along on the scouting party checking
in on some of Clyde’s properties later, local politics that didn’t interest me, and
when to meet at The Brand. It took a bit for it to sink in that Devon intended to
go with a group of these hunters a little closer to sundown, and take Sara and me
with him.
Barely tasting the food I was shoveling into my mouth, I set down my fork and pushed
the plate aside, turning to frown at the hunter. “Why are we leaving? Shouldn’t we
stick around here if we’re going to hide?”
Tiny snagged a piece of sliced melon off the side of my plate, shaking it at me to
emphasize his point before shoving it into his mouth. “We need him tonight, and we’re
not going to leave you two alone. You’ll be safe at The Brand. We’ve got enough hardware
there to stop an army of leeches.”
Though I didn’t like the idea, I had no alternative to offer. Neither did Sara. She
pushed her plate away, most of the chicken on her plate shredded instead of eaten.
“Devon, you want to show me to that phone?”
He nodded, gesturing to the living room just outside of the kitchen. “There’s a phone
in there.”
I thanked him and headed over, spotting the phone on an end table next to a couch.
It was wireless, so I took it up to the guest room I’d slept in and pulled my Rolodex
out of the duffel I’d been carting around.
Arnold didn’t pick up. A little bit annoyed, I scrambled for Trinity’s phone, poking
around the options to find the phone number before I ran out of time to leave it in
the message. The battery still had about half a charge, but I would have to be careful
not to mess with the phone too much unless someone had a charger I could borrow that
would work with the phone.
“Hey, it’s Shia. Sara and I need some help. There are a bunch of problems right now,
but the biggest one is that there’s a necromancer working with another vampire to
take down the vamp we were supposed to be staying with. Long story, but we’re with
some White Hats right now instead, and they’re talking about killing the mage. Any
advice about how we can neutralize the necro before the White Hats hurt him or themselves?
Give me a call as soon as you can. The number is . . . um . . . one sec . . .”
It felt like it took forever for me to find it, but once I did I got the numbers out
in a rush, then a second time, a little slower, in case he didn’t get it the first
time—but the message cut off right in the middle. Frig. I hoped he got the numbers.
I also really, really hoped he’d have some advice on how to deal with the necromancer.
The thought of facing Gideon again unarmed, and with the charm around my neck not
blocking all of the necromancer’s powers to mess with my head, was not a happy one.
Even if he had no intention of hurting a normal person, he might make an exception
for me or Sara if Fabian told him to.
Tucking the cell phone in my pocket, I brought the cordless back to where I had found
it and rejoined the White Hats in the kitchen. The guys were talking about sports,
while Sara was talking to the only other woman in the room, some girl I didn’t know.
I couldn’t make out what they were saying, and no one paid me much attention except
for Devon when I slumped into a chair between him and Sara.
“Any luck?”
I shook my head, not really wanting to discuss Arnold in front of the others. Devon
had met him before, but I wasn’t sure how much he knew about the mage, or what he
had thought of him at the time.
“Well,” he said, brushing imaginary dust off his pants before rising, “why don’t we
get a move on, then? Come on. Let’s hit the road.”
The other White Hats got up, some of them adjusting weapons I hadn’t seen while they
were seated. It wasn’t particularly surprising, just unsettling. Sara didn’t seem
to have any problems standing or walking, so some of my concern for her faded. Like
I’d earlier figured, it was probably just a combination of jet lag, stress, and exhaustion
from all the running around we’d been doing.
Tiny slung an arm over my shoulders, then ushered Sara to be on the other side of
him. It wasn’t anything possessive or creepy; he was genuinely friendly and was grinning
down at us both like Christmas had come early. Judging by the flat stares and looks
we were getting from the other White Hats, I was guessing that he was having a hard
time making friends out here, and was glad to see us because we had never judged him
or kept him out of the loop.
Not that I had anything against these White Hats, but so far no one I had met in this
town had been anything other than crazy, inhospitable, or flat-out hostile. Los Angeles
was not going on my list of places to visit again anytime soon.
The sun was still a long way from setting, and I found myself wishing for a pair of
sunglasses once we got outside. We piled into the three cars filling up the driveway,
and a couple people even headed to the street to get into a fourth. Sara and I stuck
with Devon, Tiny, and one of the other guys in a big SUV. The car was nice, clean,
and a lot more expensive than what Devon had been driving back in New York.
I had to wonder what these guys did for money in this town. Did they have some kind
of day job? How did they make enough money to afford these nice things, as well as
support their hunting habits?
Whatever. Not my problem.
We took yet another freeway I’d never heard of. Staring out the window, I watched
the world pass by.
We hit a traffic jam on the 134. Devon poked at his GPS, but even with the alternate
route it spouted out, we were at a standstill. At one point, a cop passed us on a
motorcycle, weaving between the cars. A black-and-white soon followed, driving on
the median. Then another. And another.
There must have been some kind of major accident up ahead, because the traffic going
the other way had stopped, too. There was a park off to our left that seemed pretty
packed with people, most of them moving in our direction, towards the freeway. Probably
coming to see what was going on.
I craned my neck a bit, trying to see around the driver’s headrest.
“What the hell is that?”
Tiny’s words drew my attention to where he was pointing. The people in the park.
Wait.
That wasn’t a park. There were gravestones set into the grass, so neatly laid that
at first glance, I hadn’t noticed.
It was a cemetery.
“Devon, those are—”
He cut me off. “I know. That’s Forest Lawn Memorial. Shit. We’re in a lot of trouble.”
The necromancer’s powers weren’t as hindered by daylight or witnesses as I’d been
given reason to believe by Clyde and Fabian. That crowd—those weren’t people. Not
anymore.
And they were headed right for us.
BOOK: Forsaken by the Others
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