Enslaved by the Others (19 page)

Her scrutiny turned sharp, her brows knitting. “Were you not aware that there have been uprisings— vampires wresting control of long-held cities from each other, werewolf packs destroying or consuming one another, shifters and the undying clashing in terrible battles in contested cities? New York was one of them, and I thought there were some rumors of your involvement with the werewolves there.”

I started to shake my head, but then paused and considered. The night I broke into Royce’s apartment building, urged by the spirit of a dead man inhabiting the hunter’s belt I’d been wearing at the time to take some twisted form of revenge against the vampires inside, there was supposed to have been some big fight between two local packs of werewolves. The Sunstrikers, led by my ex-boyfriend Chaz, had some kind of beef with the Ravenwoods. The human hunters—White Hats—who had been helping me at the time had chosen to side with the Sunstrikers, but I refused to join their fight.

“Maybe,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “I know there were some problems in New York, but I was trying not to get involved.”

“That’s probably for the best. Unfortunate business. You’re lucky you missed Alec’s show of temper after his properties were burned down. I heard the carnage was a marvel to behold.”

Her eyes glinted with a vicious light, her teeth bared in a feral grin that said better than words that she enjoyed the thought of bloodshed. That slick pink lipstick, like her lips had been coated with melted taffy, somehow made her appear more fierce and predatory. Then what she said sank in, and I had to collect my jaw off the floor before I could sputter out a few words of my own.

“Wait ... excuse me? Did you say burned down?”

“Yes. I take it he didn’t tell you?” She rubbed her chin, musing. “There was some fracas with a Were pack. They destroyed one of his clubs, and then that apartment building near Central Park. Burned them down. Alec has kept his battles in the courts and shadows since ... oh, the 1700s, I’d expect, but since the arson he’s been raging a rather bloody war with the wolves. If he kept it from you, I imagine he didn’t want to alarm you.”

I bit my lip, not sure how to respond or what to think. It seemed like something so important would have been one of the first things for us to discuss, but I couldn’t argue with her logic. I already had plenty of problems on my plate. Worrying about what happened to Royce’s properties and if everyone who lived in that apartment building was okay wasn’t going to do me any good. Of course, that had never stopped me before. I hoped Mouse, Ken, Wesley, Christoph, Analie, and all the others who had lived there were alive and unhurt. They may not have been dear friends, but they had all looked out for me in their own way.

Also, I didn’t
think
Chaz would have been so stupid as to try to burn down Royce’s properties, but if he had, a tiny—
very
tiny—part of me was worried about him.

I still thought Chaz was a sleazy douchenozzle of a shitstain, but—damn him to hell—I couldn’t turn off all my feelings for him. I hoped the scumbag was okay.

Kumiho folded her arms, resting her butt against the counter as she regarded me. “You aren’t in any danger while you’re here, if you’re worried. No one—
no one
—would dare intrude on my territory. Not even in a time of war.” Her fierce grin widened until I could swear I could see her molars. It was easy to believe her, even if I had no idea what she was. “And your beau is quite a fierce creature when roused. I wish I could be there to see it when you fully grasp what a beast he is under the veneer. I imagine that will be something to behold.”

I cleared my throat, unable to meet her gaze. “I’ve seen enough. I know what he is and what he can do.”

“Oh, I doubt that very sincerely.”

Before I had time to question what she meant by that, she uncrossed her arms and pushed herself away from the counter, striding past me and out of the kitchen. Her movements were swift, liquid, the smooth stride of a predator on the hunt. Very reminiscent of how Chaz moved close to the full moon, when the beast roiled just below the surface of his skin, apt to slip its leash at any moment.

She returned a few minutes later, a purse in hand and swaddled in a thick, fur-trimmed ski jacket.

“Give me your measurements. I need to run a few errands. I’ll pick up some new clothes and shoes for you while I’m out,” she said, shoving a pen and small pad of paper in my direction.

Though I didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, the abrupt change of topic and thought of being left alone here sent a pang of dread through me. Seeing my stricken look, she placed a hand on my shoulder, heat and a tingling sense of possession radiating from her touch.

“Remember, you’re safe in my home. Not even Euphron of Sicyon would dare violate the sanctity of these grounds.”

I nodded, pulling away with a shiver. She did not try to touch me again.

It felt a little like I had left one cage only to be trapped in another.

Pushing that thought to the back of my mind, I wrote down my shoe and clothing sizes. Then, as an afterthought, I added Sara’s sizes before I handed it to her. She glanced over the paper, arched a brow, then stuffed the note and the pen in her purse.

“While you’re out—will you check if Dustin is okay?” I asked.

Her features darkened with a flash of pity. I got the idea it was more for my hopeless naïveté than worry about Dustin’s welfare. It was soon hidden behind a mask of brisk industry as she adjusted her clothes and made a point of rearranging some things in her purse.

“I’ll check,” she said. “Remember, stay inside. I’ll be back in a few hours with some new clothes and the cavalry. There’s some paper in that desk over there. If you can, make a map of what you know of the grounds and where your friends might be hidden away. It will help us make plans once the others arrive.”

Right. Royce’s vampires and Arnold were on the way. Knowing that I could contribute something useful that would keep my hands busy eased some of the guilt and tension that had built up between my shoulders. It took a few breaths to steady my voice enough to speak.

“Thank you, Kumiho. For everything.”

Her expression softened, and she bowed her head, her hair sliding forward like a dark satin curtain to obscure her features. “Don’t thank me, girl. I’m not good or kind or moral. You’ll never know how lucky you are to have me on your side. Vampires are not the only ones with dark appetites, and repaying the debts I owe your master will see mine well fed.”

For the first time, I felt a thrill of fear of this woman.

Her eyes were a strange, orange color, glinting in the shadows cast by her hair. Her gaze bored into mine for what felt like an eternity before she turned away. Silent, even in those stiletto heels, she stalked to the front door.

“Wait.”

She stopped, hand on the knob, but didn’t turn around.

“You may not think so, but you’re not a bad person. You’re kinder than you think.”

“You’re speaking from a place of ignorance,” she said. Though the words were sharp, I still heard the edge of pain and longing in them. “You don’t know what I am or what I’ve done. You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know you dropped everything in the middle of the night to pick up a perfect stranger whose life was in danger.”

“Because I was bound to repay a debt. Someday you’ll understand what it means to owe a debt to an immortal. When that day comes, the world will be darker for it.”

“I think I do. I saved his life, remember? I know how much he thinks he owes me, even after I told him he doesn’t.”

That got me an over-the-shoulder glance. Her lips quirked in a thin smile. “No wonder he loves you.”

Without another word, she slipped out into the cold, a swirl of snow trailing in her wake.

Chapter Eighteen

Angus looked like the kind of guy who could strangle you with his beard and grind your bones with his teeth. Every part of him not covered in scars was matted with curly red hair. Built like a brick shithouse, he would have been formidable even without the strength of a vampire coursing through his veins. This was not someone I wanted to mess around with.

“Blast and be damned with ye, woman,” he snarled down at Kumiho, who was glaring up at him with her hands on her hips. She showed not a bit of fear for his great size or bared fangs, nor did she show the slightest hesitation as she went toe to toe with him until their chests nearly touched. “I’ll be the one what decides who goes on the raid, and that’s final!”

“My home, my territory, my rules,” she snapped back at him. “I was promised a feed in return for my services. Are you giving me one of yours?” Those strange, orange eyes flicked to one side, focusing on a young mage who blanched under her hungry scrutiny. “I’ll be happy to take one of them in payment instead—”

A fist the size of a dinner plate struck the counter with a resounding thump, blocking her path to the mage. “Haud yer wheesht, ye bloody besom! Ye’ll do nae such thing.”

Man, I was glad he was on my side.

Arnold stood by my side, practically vibrating with tension. There were half a dozen magi with him, all of them nervously watching the vampires and doing their best to keep their distance from Kumiho. I didn’t recognize any of them, but I wasn’t terribly familiar with his coworkers from The Circle. He never brought them along on any of our social outings. I had the feeling he didn’t get along with many of them outside of the professional relationship he was forced to maintain to do his job as head of security of the coven.

As for the vampires, I knew Angus but had never met any of the others. There were over a dozen of them, and they and the group of magi had arrived in a trailing convoy of matching black SUVs less than an hour ago. Kumiho had dropped off some supplies and new clothes for me before picking them up at the airport, leading them back here just in time to avoid the first rays of the rising sun.

It hadn’t taken long for the arguments to start.

Angus had been given the instruction to keep me away from the coming battle at all costs. Kumiho, on the other hand, had been promised violence, and babysitting me or not, she wouldn’t be denied. She wouldn’t leave me here, but Angus didn’t want me to come with them, even if I stayed in the car or at the fringes of the fight. They had been arguing almost nonstop since they arrived, neither one backing down, both unwilling to find some kind of compromise.

Not that I had much clue what might work as a compromise in this case, but anything had to be better than those two coming to blows. The house and everyone in it probably wouldn’t survive the battle.

I had started to open my mouth, but the two of them had both turned to
look
at me, and that had been sufficient to get me to shut my jaw with a snap.

As Angus and Kumiho argued in the too-crowded kitchen, Arnold touched my arm and gestured me aside. The other magi followed after us as we made our way to the living room, the vampires lounging against the walls all watching us go with hungry eyes.

Once we had a little distance from the arguing Others, I gave Arnold the hug I hadn’t had a chance to when he had first arrived. Though a bit startled by me throwing my arms around him, he was soon returning the gesture, blowing a shuddering sigh into my hair.

“Oh, Shia,” he whispered, his voice breaking, “I never should have let you and Sara leave New York. Or I should have gone with you. I’ve got to get her back.”

I tightened my grip on him a little, trying to will into him a sense of comfort I didn’t feel. Then I leaned back to meet his green eyes, misting up behind the thick Coke-bottle lenses of his glasses. “I’m sorry, Arnold. It’s my fault she was taken. That necromancer is probably the only reason she’s still alive.”

He grimaced, pulling back and turning away. “I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you in time. When you called, I mean. Not that I could have done anything about it from across the country. At least that thing isn’t here.”

Clearing my throat, I shuffled aside a few steps to sit on the arm of the couch, rubbing the back of my neck. “Um ...about that . . .”

“Shit. Don’t tell me we’re fighting a necromancer, too,” one of the other magi said, his voice high and squeaky with fear.

Arnold lifted a hand to rub the bridge of his nose, dislodging his glasses and his grimace deepening. “Fuck,” he said, summing up my feelings in a nutshell.

“Sorry,” I replied lamely, knowing it was inadequate. There were no words to make any of this mess easier to deal with. “He’s on our side. Sort of. He’s got an agenda, but I have no idea what it is. Before I got out, he made it sound like he wanted to help us. And Sara told me he was doing what he could to protect her.”

Arnold and the others all had varying expressions of disbelief. I hoped I was right. Gideon wasn’t on any side but his own, but whatever his goals were concerning Max, I thought they might align with ours to one degree or another.

Granted, he would probably turn on us the moment we ceased to be useful to him, but having a necromancer on our side, even if only temporarily, might make the difference between Max walking away from this coup—or being left behind in pieces.

Since the magi were already nervous from being outnumbered and trapped in a house all day with a flock of hungry vampires, I thought I might try distracting them from their added worries about the necromancer with some social niceties.

“Let’s not worry about that right now. Will you introduce me to your friends? I don’t think we’ve met.”

With a start, Arnold gave me a wan smile. “Sorry, I must still be jetlagged. Everybody, this is Shiarra Waynest.” The six magi inclined their heads, one of the two women giving me a shy finger-wave. “Shia, meet Xander, Kim—”

“Kimberly,” she said, giving me a lopsided smile.

Considering she shared a name with the woman Chaz had been sleeping with behind my back, I did my best not to instantly hate her. She was just a kid: young, fresh-faced, and innocent. I had to wonder what she was bringing to the table in this fight and hoped to God Arnold knew what he was doing when he invited her along for the party.