Read Angel Falls (Cassandra Bick Chronicles Book 3) Online
Authors: Tracey Sinclair
Angel Falls (Cassandra Bick Chronicles Book 3)
The Cassandra Bick Chronicles
Tracey Sinclair
The Cassandra Bick Chronicles
DARK DATES
‘This book is fantastic. It should be a bestseller with an upcoming movie.
Dark Dates
is unique’
TBR Pile
‘Tracey Sinclair’s talent for snarky wit comes through wonderfully in her lead character, Cassandra Bick. The dry British wit and humor shines’
Jade Kerrion, award-winning author of the
Double Helix
series
WOLF NIGHT
‘The author is onto a real winner with this series. The urban fantasy world in which these characters roam has the potential to run and run.’
Jaffa Reads Too
‘It has everything good Urban Fantasy should have: ... a funny as hell heroine that will kick your ass or make you laugh. Sexy guys that make you want to melt AND it’s action packed. Keep them coming, Ms.Sinclair. I need more Cassandra!’
Night Owl Reviews Top Pick
Even in my sleep I was scared. In theory, there was no reason to be. My bedroom – once normal, albeit ‘geeky cat lady’ normal – was now a virtual arsenal. There was a long, sharp samurai sword (taken from an actual samurai, no less) hanging on the wall above the bed, a very powerful, very illegal gun in the bedside cabinet, and an iron poker by the door in case of demons. Yes, really: welcome to my life. Add to that the fact that a large duffel bag of I-don’t-want-to-know level weaponry was under the bed, and that Cain, the owner of said bag and current co-occupant of the mattress, was probably the strongest and most dangerous hunter the earth has ever seen, and it’ll give you some insight into the week I was having that my stomach was still knotted with tension, a clench of anxiety just below my consciousness keeping me restless, even in repose. My Sense – a sort of slightly psychic Spidey sense that picks up on general wrongness and threat – had been overloaded in the last couple of weeks, so its jangling was starting to feel like background noise, a car alarm in the street that you can’t switch off so you just learn to tune out. After all, it wasn’t telling me anything I wasn’t aware of already: I knew there was something out there, after us; something terrifying and unstoppable and stronger than either Cain or I could hope to defeat. Then my eyes flashed open as I realised that it wasn’t ‘out there’ at all. The danger was already here.
***
‘Tell me, do you ever watch
The Wire?
’
For some people, this might seem an odd question to be asked by a vampire. OK, for some people, being asked
any
question by a vampire would fill their lifetime quota of odd. But in my line of work, this was pretty routine.
I was sitting in my office at Dark Dates, a dating agency which arranges matches for humans and vampires, among other things (those ‘other things’ lately, alas, mainly amounting to being blown up and attacked – and I don’t even get paid for that). While we do an array of human-on-human matching, our niche speciality is to set up vampires with humans willing to indulge in a little light consensual feeding. Most of my vampire clients are fairly young in vamp terms, since they are the ones most likely to be open to my services while also less likely to have established such networks on their own. So discussing likes and dislikes, cultural references and tastes in music – all the things you use to find a suitable match in any dating situation – wasn’t uncommon. Admittedly, it was usually me doing the asking, and that wasn’t the only thing that was surprising about this vampire. For a start, most of my clients were turned a couple of decades ago, but my Sense – which, while not always totally accurate, can usually pick up on the strength (and therefore threat level) of vampires, allowing me to guess roughly at their age – was telling me this guy was factory fresh. Newly turned vampires either have a lot of Sire support in their early days (so don’t need the likes of me) or, if they are carelessly turned, go mad pretty much out of the gate. Plus, it was odd that he was in my office at all. Due to a confluence of events – including, but not limited to, an attempted coup d’état by a young vampire on one of the biggest clans on London, a werewolf attack and a supernatural conspiracy between said vampire, werewolves and a bunch of crazy witches – my business had taken a bit of a hit lately. So while I was grateful for any custom that came my way, it seemed that Mr HBO Drama here was too new to be plugged into the Other grapevine that was keeping so many of my clients away. Bankruptcy seems a harsh price to pay for saving your city, but it was starting to seem like a very real threat. So when Jason the insta-vamp turned up at my door, I welcomed him with open arms, and if he wanted to talk about TV shows, that was just fine with me.
‘I do, actually,’ I said to him. ‘My colleague’s fiancée is a big fan. She always says there are two kinds of people – those who love
The Wire
, and those who haven’t seen
The Wire
.’ I gestured towards the outer office where Medea sat, then remembered she wasn’t there: I’d given her a few days off to recover from all the craziness, since she and Katie had been right at the heart of it. Jason nodded, smiling, though there was an anxiousness in his eyes that seemed more than the usual nervousness at admitting you need help finding a date.
‘So you’re familiar with the character of Omar?’
‘Of course.’ Who doesn’t love a smart-mouthed gay stick-up man stalking the streets like he owns them?
‘Do you remember what Omar used to say?’
I frowned. I was as happy to discuss the minutiae of TV shows as the next person – OK, far more than the next person – but something was telling me this wasn’t a casual line of questioning, though I was baffled as to where it was going. Just as I was going to say something to try and steer us back to the topic of the interview, he smiled, though it was a sad, strained smile.
‘He said if you come at the king, you best not miss.’
My mouth sagged open, my stomach plunged. I knew in that moment exactly why Jason was here, and that it had absolutely nothing to do with getting a girlfriend.
‘Someone came at the king, Miss Bick. They missed. The result has been… carnage.’
I said nothing. His expression hardened.
‘And I’ve been told by reliable sources that this is all your fault.’
Outrage snapped me out of my shock.
‘Hold on a minute…’
He held up a hand to stop my protests.
‘The question is, what are you going to do about it?’
***
I stared at him, stunned, for a moment. Then decided to deal with trauma the way I always do these days.
‘Do you mind if I get myself a drink?’
He gave a slightly impatient nod of assent – I got the feeling that, now he’d broken cover, he was even keener than I was to get this over with. He watched me warily as I went to the small drinks cabinet I kept in my office for tension-busting situations such as this – since they happened more than I’d like to admit – or, in happier times, a cheeky after-work tipple with Medea.
‘Would you like one?’
‘Um…’ he seemed thrown by the question. ‘Sure, thanks.’
It was a minor struggle to uncork the bottle; it was a gift, so classier and more expensive than the easy-access screw-top plonk I favoured when I was the one paying for it. I poured us both a glass and sat down, taking a long sip, which he mirrored. I was right, he was more nervous than I was. That was surprisingly little consolation.
‘I’m not sure I actually know what you’re talking about,’ I said, carefully, which was sort of true. I was aware that the vampire Sebastian had tried to unseat Laclos, one of London’s strongest vampires (and, not coincidentally, Sebastian’s Sire) and that Laclos, hopped up on a life-saving transfusion of blood far more powerful than his own, had talked of reasserting his position in the city, his ego stung by the ease with which Sebastian had moved against him, and the fact that this came barely a year after a similar attempted coup by those supposedly on Laclos’ side. But that was over a week ago, and the last I had seen of him since he vanished from my kitchen into the night. Since then, I’d seen a sharp drop off in clients, but other than that it’d been radio silence. Foolishly, I had hoped that was because things were settling down and getting back to normal. The look on Jason’s face as he gulped down his wine like it was his last drink on earth made it clear I had been very, very wrong.
‘There was a recent incursion into this city by werewolves,’ he said, and I tried to look like this bit was news to me. ‘The type of attack that hasn’t been seen in decades. Luckily,’ he bit off the word, ‘the attack was foiled by the high level vampire Laclos, his clan and an assortment of his concubines. The human Cassandra Bick – that would be you…’
‘Yeah, I got that.’
‘And the hunter known as Cain…’
‘Cain’s not…’ I began, but new as he was, Jason had already learned a vampire’s fondness for his own voice over anyone else’s. He kept talking, though I couldn’t shake the feeling he was reading from some internal script.
‘Naturally, as a community we are grateful that this was handled with a minimum of external attention. But it also appears this attack was the cover for a power grab, aimed at displacing your lover Laclos, by his progeny, a young vampire called Sebastian – your ex-lover, I believe? – who is now missing, presumed staked, at the hands of your other lover, the hunter Cain?’
‘God, will you knock it off with this "lover" stuff? I feel like Anita Blake.’
‘I don’t care about your sex life, Miss Bick,’ he said, which was rather undermined by his sneery expression.
‘Ms,’ I corrected, and he scowled, like I was nit-picking the least important thing. But hey, if you can’t annoy patronising men, what fun is there left in the world? It’s a weakness of mine – admittedly, one which might well turn out to be fatal, but it’d been a rough month and I was done playing nice.
‘
Ms
Bick,’ he corrected, sharply. ‘But when a powerful vampire stinging from an insult to his authority decides the best way to prevent any future attacks is to take over a whole fucking city, then, let’s get back to
The Wire
analogy, shit gets real. I have no idea how much you know about vampire society – probably, given your taste in… friends… a lot more than me. But from what I can see, it’s pretty much like the human world. The people in power
really like
being the people in power. They don’t want the status quo shaken by a pissed off poseur with a rock star complex who’s getting extra juice from somewhere – or somebody – else. So since you seem to be in the eye of this particular shit storm and you’re the only one with an address that comes up on Google, you’re the one we’re coming to.’
‘To do what?’ I snapped, exasperated. ‘I’m not some frigging Hobbit who can rush out on a quest when the wizard comes calling. Like you said, I’m easy to find because I have a business. A job. I know you vampire types tend to forget this, but some of us need a salary.’
‘And how will your business survive if someone kills all your clients?’
He said this like it was the winning card, but since it wasn’t exactly a new threat for me, I looked disappointingly unfazed, and he frowned.
‘We’re just looking for a truce here, Ms Bick. A chance to negotiate in peace. We want you to help facilitate that, that’s all.’
I sighed. I felt bad for him, I really did, but I had no idea what he expected of me.
‘Look, I don’t know what you think is going on here, or what you think my relationship with Laclos is, but I think you’re seriously overestimating my influence. I have no idea where he is, I have no idea what he’s up to or what he’s planning. And I don’t see how any of this is
anything
to do with me.’
OK, that last bit wasn’t strictly true, since while I had nothing to do with Sebastian’s coup, the whole werewolf/witch thing was sort of – OK, totally – my fault. Not that I fancied sharing that with Mr Snooty-About-My-Sex-Life Newly Minted, here.
‘Then that’s unfortunate for both of us.’ He sat forward ever so slightly and I tightened my grip on the corkscrew I’d used to open the wine. It was actually part of a specially made, silver-bladed Swiss Army knife that had been a gift from Cain. I’d bridled slightly when he gave me it, since it came with a heavy dose of sarcasm (‘I figured you’d never lose something you needed to open wine’) but now the weight of it in my hand, hidden under the desk, felt reassuring. Any vampire was stronger than a human, but I wasn’t defenceless, and frankly I fancied my chances against a newbie like this.
As if reading my thoughts, Jason sat back and rubbed his eyes, suddenly tired.
‘You can kill me if you want to. I’m disposable. I was only turned a couple of days ago. That’s why they sent me. That’s why they
made
me.’
I stared, shocked. Vampires turn people for many reasons, most of which are selfish – need, desire, loneliness, control – but they are almost always personal. They didn’t create cannon fodder.
‘You have a reputation for being more dangerous than you look,’ he went on – oh, how I wish that were true. ‘Why else would you be here, in plain sight, when neither Laclos nor Cain are anywhere to be found, the latter having presumably run to ground?’
Again: vampires, not big on the concept of bills and mortgages. And Cain of course was less in hiding than incapacitated. He’d been utterly wiped out first by a werewolf savaging and then, barely recovered from that, being drained to near death when he tried to save Laclos from a similar fate. He’d spent most of the last week asleep, bordering on comatose, as his massively damaged body sought to repair itself. This morning had been the first time in days he’d actually got out of bed, joining me briefly for breakfast.
‘Laclos has killed the heads of three different clans in less than a week,’ Jason said. ‘Three vampires who are far older than he is reported to be. Vampires with a fair sized following in this city. And he took them out as easily as he’d take me. He issued a warning to every clan in London: swear loyalty to him, or die. He’s already murdered a dozen soldiers simply to make a point. He killed them in their nests. Their homes.’
Good quality as it was, the wine curdled in my stomach. I knew Laclos could be dangerous – I’d seen him tear apart a werewolf with his bare hands – but I had never thought him capable of cruelty. I’d hoped the effects of Cain’s blood – the heady influx of power he gained from drinking from an immortal creature whose strength dwarfed his own – would be a temporary high. I had expected tales of excess, but had hoped they would be Bacchanalian, not bloodthirsty.
‘I don’t believe you,’ I said, stupidly, since I knew without doubt he wasn’t lying. He sat forward, urging me to understand, and I felt suddenly, desperately sorry for him, a terrified man abruptly dragged into a world he had not even been aware of, drafted into a battle that was not his.
‘He hasn’t eliminated a few vampires, Ms Bick. He’s started a war. And if you don’t want that to spill into daylight, you have to help.’