Forsaken by the Others (12 page)

Everyone else’s hand went up. My mouth dropped open, and I’m pretty sure Sara was
gaping, too.

“Mac goes first,” Elly decided.

Thrane turned back to us while most of the other vampires put their attention on Elly
and her magazine.

“That was a moving speech,” the girl in the nice clothes told him.

“Why, thank you, Shannon.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Thrane.”

“So, hey,” Mac called out from across the room, “are we going to eat these people
after we’re done with the questions or what?”

Many red-tinged eyes were quite suddenly, very hungrily, focused on us. Again.

As cold hands settled on our shoulders, Sara made a high-pitched sound, and I jumped
about a foot in the air. Thrane had moved behind us, and I could hear the edge of
amusement—and hunger—in his voice. “Now, now, children. What do I always say?”

“Never without a contract, and never without consent,” the others droned. They sounded
like kids in a classroom reciting some inane tidbit of trivia off of a chalkboard
for their teacher.

“Very good! Next week, we’re going to rehash the ‘Your Donor is a Human, Not a Cow’
and the ‘Technically You’re Still Human, so Have Some Humanity’ talks.”

That pronouncement was met with a chorus of groans.

Thrane’s fingers tightened, and I tilted my head to look up at him, the tendons creaking
in my neck with the movement.

“Now, I am sure you investigators have a great deal of investigating to do, yes?”
Thrane didn’t wait for our reply. He started pushing us back in the direction of the
door. “All right, then. You just go on about your business, and we’ll pretend you
never came here. Out of the way, Brendan.”

Though Sara and I both stumbled some on the way, we soon got our bearings and moved
under our own power again. Brendan, the vampire who had announced Cheese’s death to
the rest of the group, hopped off the steps and wandered over to where Elly and the
others were doing their magazine survey.

“Please,” I said over my shoulder, hoping this wasn’t yet another dead end, “this
might concern you, too. We’re trying to find a necromancer.”

Thrane came up short, nearly causing us to stumble again since he never let us go.
He growled, the low rumbling echoing strangely in the room. Sara was pushed toward
the stairs, while he spun me around to face him.

I finally got a good look at the tattoo under his eye. It was some kind of stylized
Egyptian symbol. It added an extra level of creepy to his grin, which was already
forced and predatory.

“Necromancer, you say?”

“Y-yes,” I stammered, really wishing he’d take his hands off me.

“As in, the guy who has been toting zombies around town? That necromancer?”

Sara and I exchanged a look. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a waste after all.

His fangs extended as I watched, my eyes widening. “What do you think, people? Sounds
like Very Bad Things are going down in Froofty McPrissy-pants’s territory.”

The girl he’d addressed as Shannon shook her head. “Better not, Jimmy. Just let the
necromancer take him out.”

Thrane thrust a finger in the air dramatically. “We shall move in and strike while
he is weak!”

Shannon smirked. “Uh-huh.”

“Muster our forces. We book a cab and arrive at midnight!”

“Or, you know, we could go do karaoke.”

One of Thrane’s brows shot up. He was clearly intrigued. “Oh, better idea. Muster
our forces. We go next door!”

Shannon’s eye roll made it clear that his antics were nothing unusual to this crowd.
Or to her, anyway. “Aye aye, chief.”

Man, Trinity wasn’t kidding when she said this guy was crazier than a shithouse rat.
Thrane patted me on the shoulder, and I cringed. “You know, as much as I would like
to help you ladies, I’m afraid I would enjoy seeing the usurper’s kingdom torn out
from under him one piece at a time far more. You’re welcome to come join us for karaoke
night once the mage is done dealing with that pretender.”

“Please,” Sara said, “we’re asking for your help. If we don’t find that necromancer,
something bad might happen to us.”

“My dear, I am terribly sorry to hear that,” he replied, tipping up the brim of his
hat with his thumb as he bent to go eye-to-eye with her. “If only there were something
I could do. But alas, your bad taste in clients is not my problem. Now, if you’ll
excuse us, karaoke music calls.”

Fucking hell. He was hiding what he knew. Yet another grandstander—just what I needed.

Something stirred in me, deep down, making the hair on my arms rise and my fingers
arch into claws. It felt like my vision was changing, growing sharper and picking
up more details. Whatever was going on, it made Thrane uneasy enough to pull back
from me a couple of steps, his predatory grin easing into a frown.

“Look,” I said, my tongue feeling strangely thick in my mouth, “I have had it up to
fucking
here
with you goddamned showboating, vain, ostentatious
assholes
! You know something about this guy, and you’re deliberately keeping it from us. Do
you
want
us to die? Because if we do, it’ll be on your head!”

“Damn, lady,” one of the other vampires said, “no need to Hulk out. Calm the hell
down.”

My glare shut him up pretty quick. He backed off, turning his gaze away. I didn’t
know what was wrong with me, but my temper hadn’t gripped me so hard since the last
time I was wearing the belt. Heat and rage simmered in my veins—and I liked it.

When I looked back at Thrane, a snarl curling my lip, he raised his hands and also
took a step back from me. “Ma’am, I’m sorry if I offended. Truly.”

“About time somebody was sorry,” I snapped.

“Shia, don’t,” Sara said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

As much as I would have liked to have left these weirdos behind, I stood my ground.
There was no way I was walking out of here with nothing to show for it. Though there
was a little voice in the back of my head that seemed to believe I might be overreacting,
I wasn’t ready to let this go. Not yet.

“Well?” I demanded of Thrane.

He shook his head, taking another careful—very careful—step back from me. “We don’t
have much information. Sometimes he comes to our neighborhood. I’ve seen him here
once or twice before, but we don’t bother each other. He hasn’t made a move against
my people, and I would prefer not to garner his attention. Fair enough for you?”

Some part of me felt tempted to swipe at him with my nails. Thought that I could take
him in a fight.

There was just enough common sense left in me to remember why that was a bad idea.
Visions of how quickly Max and Royce moved, how viciously they fought, swirled in
my head as I closed my eyes and clenched my hands into tight fists at my side. After
a few deep breaths, I relaxed enough to reopen my eyes and give him a response.

“Fair enough. Thank you.”

Thrane nodded, the other vampires edging over to his side or behind him. Most of them
looked nervous. Maybe even a little afraid. Of me? That was an interesting change
of pace.

“Not to put too fine a point on it, but it’s become a bit crowded in here. Shall we
. . . ?”

When he gestured, I took the hint. It was long past time for us to get the hell out
of there. Aside from the danger the vampires presented, there was something wrong
with me, too. I needed to get out, clear my head, and get ahold of myself.

Sara led the way, bounding up the stairs two at a time. I couldn’t really blame her
for wanting to rush out. Yet she stopped at the door, blocking the exit.

I started to ask her what was wrong, but the words trailed off as a foul stench wafted
into the room. All the anger faded away like smoke on the wind as that combination
of death and rot invaded my nostrils like a physical assault.

The vampires behind me started complaining—some of them blaming Brendan for the stink—but
then Sara was stumbling back into me, and I didn’t have time to worry about where
it was coming from.

Bloated, discolored fingers with long, jagged nails were grabbing at Sara’s shoulder
and arm, dragging her out through the door. By the time I got over my shock enough
to reach for her, she was gone.

“Sara!”

She screamed, and I heard wet thumps—she must have been fighting back. Thrane was
trying to haul me back while I was tugging at his grip on my collar to get free and
chase after her.

“Get out of the way! We need to shut the door!”

“Let go!”

He did. I charged up the stairs and out, though I skidded to a stop at the sight before
me, barely registering the sound of the door slamming shut and locking behind me.

Zombies had converged on the alley, dead bodies in various states of decomposition
shuffling about aimlessly, save for a few that were still crouched over a red puddle
and pile of body parts stained with thick, blackish blood. Trinity. I recognized her
kitten heels on the dismembered leg being munched on by one of the monsters.

Sara was struggling and gagging in the arms of a dead man who towered over her, his
lips bluish-green and peeled back from yellowing teeth, sunken, milky eyes staring
at nothing in particular. He didn’t react to the thumps against his forearms and shins
as she beat at him, and it was no wonder why. I doubted there were any nerve endings
left to feel anything in that walking corpse.

Some of the zombies turned in my direction, all gaping mouths and hollow or desiccated
eyes. My back thudded against the door.

A few started shuffling toward me, their feet dragging and arms slowly rising as they
approached.

“Stop, stop, stop! Those are humans, you bleeding idiots.”

The zombies stopped exactly where they were, frozen in place. A few feet away, one
tipped over on its side, losing its balance since it still had one foot in the air.
It kept the pose even when it fell with a wet smack onto the pavement.

Another was close enough to me that its shriveled, mummified fingers were only inches
from my throat. I couldn’t stop staring into the empty, gaping holes of its eye sockets,
every breath coming short and sharp, too rapid for me to manage a scream.

“Morons. All of you. Back up, you lot. Bring the other one over here.”

The ones closest to me shuffled back, some of them voicing what sounded like annoyed
moans.

A man soon stood before me, his hands on his hips and his brilliant green eyes narrowed
with irritation. He towered over me, nearly Chaz’s height, though he was skinny as
a rail. I thought that might be an Armani suit draped on his lanky frame. Whatever
it was, it wasn’t off the rack.

He gestured angrily at the zombies, shooing away the ones blocking the path of the
zombie still clinging to Sara, so it could set her down next to me. She smelled
awful,
and I didn’t even want to know what that was it had left behind in her hair. The
stink grew worse as she clung to me, one leg hooking around mine as she grabbed at
me and simultaneously tried to crawl under my skin and shove me in front of her.

I couldn’t blame her. I was pretty freaked out, too, though I was currently a bit
too scared to do more than stand there staring stupidly at the necromancer.

Once the zombies shuffle-walked their way into a rough semicircle around us, some
of them dripping some black liquid from hands and mouths, the guy regarded us with
a frown. He slid a long-fingered hand through his dark brown hair, settling some of
the gelled spikes against his skull. “Well, this is a new development. I don’t suppose
you two were here with that fruit fly pretender, were you?”

Neither Sara nor I could figure out what he was talking about. We were a little too
worried about having our entrails ripped out through our throats to consider it.

“For the love of Crowley, will you two stop looking at me like that? They’re not going
to hurt you.”

Sara made a high-pitched keening sound. I think I might have gibbered something, but
I’m not sure what.

“Right. Excellent. You know, just do me a favor. When you get back to that do-me queen,
Clyde, you tell that asshole that I’m coming for him next. Got it?”

We both nodded, fingers digging into each other’s skin and hair. That might have been
blood or something else trickling over my fingers by her cheek. Didn’t know, didn’t
care.

He sighed, and moved closer, lifting his hand. “Yeah. Of course you got it.” I had
time to notice that his palm was tattooed with an intricate design of a star in a
circle with a few other smaller symbols inside, very similar to the design I had seen
burned into the floorboards at Arnold’s apartment, before he pressed his hand against
Sara’s temple. “Sleep.”

Her body was a sudden deadweight against mine, dragging me down to the ground as my
weak knees gave out. He knelt down, his bright, nearly glowing eyes boring into mine,
sucking me into a cold, lonely place.

“That goes for you, too. Sleep.”

My vision grayed at the edges and faded to a pinpoint. It felt like all of my strength
flooded out of my body as I slumped over, my cheek resting on the dirty alley floor.
It might have been my imagination, but I thought he might have touched Sara’s arm,
brushing his fingers over her sleeve.

Before long, the necromancer rose and dusted off his pants legs, striding purposely
toward the mouth of the alley. He snapped his fingers, and the zombies trailed after
him in a slow shamble, leaving us alone with what remained of Trinity in a black-and-red-stained
pile a few yards away.

Then everything went black.

“. . . stinks, man. Are you sure we have to help them? We’re never going to get enough
karaoke spots for all of us if we don’t leave now.”

“Shut up, Leewan. Pick that one up.”

“Damn it, why do you get to carry the pretty one?”

The “pretty one”? Meaning Sara, not me. Awesome. Duly noted: Leewan was an asshole.

“Because I’m the boss of you. Now
be quiet
and get the other one.”

Cold, strong fingers slid under my arms, and the sensation of being dragged across
the concrete woke me up a bit more. I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes yet.

Pavement heat soon changed to a grave-like chill, and Leewan’s grip shifted as he
picked me up off the ground. “Cripes, they stink. You sure you want to bring them
into the hideout?”

Thrane didn’t answer him. I squinted my eyes open as Leewan grumbled under his breath,
taking the steps with a gait so jarring, my teeth were rattling. He glanced down at
me as I groaned, giving me a fangy grin.

“Wakey, wakey!”

I gave him the most irritated glare I could muster under the circumstances. “Anyone
ever tell you you’re an asshole?”

He shrugged and dropped me. I wasn’t expecting it and voiced a little shriek that
cut off as soon as my butt hit the couch, some of the air knocked out of me as my
spine connected with the arm.
Owww.

“Every day, but for you, I’ve trotted out an extra side of—”

Leewan looked up, frowning, then abruptly skittered out of Thrane’s way with inhuman
speed, giving the other vampire room to place Sara with a little more care on the
cushions next to me. She was still out like a light. Thrane dusted his hands off and
glanced at me.

“Normally I don’t care much for anyone who threatens me and mine, but seeing as you
got attacked by zombies on my doorstep, I figured I’d offer you two a hand.”

“Yeah, right, Jimmy. You’re just hoping the blonde will give you her number.”

Thrane glared at Mac, but didn’t dispute it. He turned back to me. “The gang knows
they’re not allowed to eat you. I’m going out. You can stay here until your partner
wakes up. Bathroom’s over there if you want to clean up.” He hooked a thumb in the
direction of a door with chipped, peeling paint and a black and yellow “Caution: Hazardous
Area, Authorized Personnel Only” sign tacked on.

Some of the other vampires got off the couches and floor cushions to follow Thrane
out of the basement and into the night. He started belting out “Panic Switch” by the
Silversun Pickups once he reached the top of the stairs, spreading his arms wide and
tilting his head back like he was howling the song to the heavens.

Half of the ones following him soon picked up the song, too, the pack of singing vampires
disappearing into the night, the sound not quite fading entirely as the door slammed
shut behind them.

I wondered if maybe I was dreaming. Really weird dreams as a result of the mage’s
dark magic or something.

“Don’t mind Thrane,” Shannon, the girl in the nice clothes, said, glancing at me over
the top of a very outdated magazine. “He’s not totally right in the head, but he means
well.”

Lifting my hands to rub at my temples, I leaned forward, doing my best to ignore the
twinge in my back. “That’s great. I don’t suppose you have any idea what the hell
happened out there?”

She shrugged and tossed the mag aside, lifting her legs to cross them at the ankles
and let them dangle over the side of the couch Thrane had been on when we first got
here. Her dark eyes examined me with curiosity, her lips quirking upward. “You going
to be able to make it back to wherever it is you’re staying?”

“I have no idea. If the car is still out there, maybe, but we’re not from around here
so I don’t know if I can find my way back without directions.”

“Clyde’s place in Santa Monica? I can write it down for you.”

I nodded thanks, scrubbing my palms over my cheeks and doing my best not to start
crying. Across the country from my friends and family, lost in Los Angeles, and stuck
with a bunch of lunatic, fringe-hobo vampires. If I saw Clyde again, I just might
throttle the guy for putting me in the middle of his mess. That’s assuming he hadn’t
been murdered by zombies by the time we got back to his place.

Sara groaned and shifted, bringing a hand up to her temple. “. . . The fu . . .”

I patted her shoulder and scooted forward, getting a bit shakily to my feet. Shannon
rose far more gracefully than I did, rolling to her feet and offering me an arm. Waving
her off, I headed to the bathroom, hoping washing some of the zombie bits off of me
and splashing some cold water on my face would help me get over whatever the mage
had done to mess with my head.

My trembling fingers slid up to my neck, closing around the gold chain there. I tugged
the charm out from under my shirt, glancing down. The black and gold rectangle the
size of my pinky nail was still there. Why the hell hadn’t it blocked the necromancer
from messing with my head? The tiny runes etched into it still had a dim glow. What
the hell was wrong with it?

Whatever. I’d ask Arnold the next time I talked to him.

The bathroom was tiny. A toilet was sandwiched between a leaky sink and a shower stall,
and the towels hanging over the stall and from a rack were threadbare. At least it
was clean.

I ran some cold water and cupped it in my hands, splashing my face. It didn’t do much
to wake me up, but at least I felt a bit cleaner. The smell of zombie was probably
going to stick with me until I showered, and that wasn’t something I was about to
attempt in this nuthouse.

By the time I was done, Shannon had some directions for me and Sara was looking groggy
but awake. She got up from the couch and rushed into the bathroom as soon as I got
out of the way, and the sound of running water soon followed.

“Thank you,” I said to Shannon, giving her a wan smile.

She returned the smile and handed me the paper. “Anytime. Sorry if Thrane or any of
the others gave you a scare. If you end up stranded in our neck of the woods again,
just call me and I’ll take care of it.”

I nodded, lifting a hand to rub at my eyes so I wouldn’t lose it. My emotions were
too much in flux for me to control myself right then.

As soon as Sara was done rinsing her face (and I hoped to God managed to get out whatever
the heck that had been in her hair), we thanked Shannon once more and headed back
out into the night.

The area still stank of zombies. No one had called the cops, which didn’t surprise
me too much considering the quality of the neighborhood. What remained of Trinity
was a pile of parts and meat in a puddle of black and red congealing blood. The car
sat unmolested at the mouth of the alley.

When we tried the doors, they didn’t open.

The keys were somewhere in that mess.

Sara and I leaned against the car and contemplated walking back to Clyde’s. All twenty
miles or so, mostly uphill.

In the end, I lost our impromptu game of rock-paper-scissors and had to fish around
in the mess for the keys. The squishy feeling was the worst part. Though I couldn’t
say I was too torn up about Trinity’s fate, this was quite possibly the most disgusting
thing I had ever done.

My fishing resulted in $0.87 in change, a cell phone that still worked despite being
liberally doused in goo, and the car keys. The clicker didn’t work until I smacked
it against my palm a couple of times; then it unlocked the car. We found some napkins
stuffed in the glove compartment and used them to wipe off the phone and the keys.

As badly as I wanted to get away from Thrane’s hideout, I wanted to get away from
Los Angeles even more. As soon as Sara was done cleaning the phone, I dialed Royce’s
cell, pacing in front of the car. She leaned against the hood and watched me, eyes
wide and arms wrapped around her ribs.

It didn’t take him long to pick up. “Hello? Who is this?”

“It’s me. Royce, please, you’ve got to let us come back.”

“Ahh,” he said, dropping his initial guarded tone. “Why aren’t you calling me from
the phone you were given? You’re lucky I picked up; I usually screen my calls.”

“It’s Clyde’s fault. He had someone go through our stuff as soon as we arrived. They
confiscated my phone, and this is the first time I’ve been able to get my hands on
one when I didn’t have one of his people breathing down my neck.”

He voiced a low growl that still managed to carry over the line. “I see. That was
not part of the arrangement I made with him.”

“When can Sara and I come back? Can you get us a flight tonight?”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that yet, Shiarra. There are still problems—”

“You have
no idea,
Royce. None. Sara and I were just attacked by a fucking necromancer.”

He made a sound—maybe a cough—before replying. “You—are you certain? An actively practicing
necromancer in Los Angeles?”

“Well, gee. He only had some glowing green eyes, some weird star-shaped tattoo thing
on his palm, and, oh yes! Directed some zombies around. Come to think of it, I’m not
sure.”

“Sarcasm won’t help matters. Where is Clyde? I’ll speak with him about it.”

It took an awful lot of effort not to scream at the phone. I was getting the idea
that maybe my emotional state was a bit more raw than I had initially gathered. Before
I might say something I’d regret later, I took a couple of breaths and counted to
ten in my head. Then answered him.

“He’s the asshole responsible for our running into the mage. He told us that we had
to find the guy if we wanted to continue to stay with him. We can’t do this, Royce.
Please, forget talking to Clyde—can you send us somewhere else? Anywhere but here?”

“Unfortunately, not on such short notice. Pulling you out of there now would be an
insult to Clyde’s hospitality, and the only other person I’d feel you might be safe
staying with has been experiencing difficulties with Max Carlyle recently. I don’t
want to send you out of the country or I might have placed you in Luxor with my eldest.”
He cursed softly, the sound barely carrying over the line, then quieted. I wasn’t
sure what to say in reply. The growl that came next was somewhat distorted, but he
was obviously displeased with this turn of events. “Damn Clyde. He was paid well to
keep you safe. If I’d had any idea . . .”

“Don’t coulda-woulda-shoulda,” I said. “I’ve already done enough of that for the both
of us. Can you please just try to think of something?”

“Yes,” he replied in a hiss, his anger palpable even through the phone line. “I should
have destroyed him when I had the chance. . . . For now, try to stay out of trouble.
I didn’t want to bring you back here until I had matters with the police in hand,
but it seems I have little choice. Give me a day or two to smooth things over with
Clyde and make arrangements. Can you manage?”

As much as I wanted to get in the car and start driving back to New York
right that minute,
that wasn’t a good idea. Hopefully the necromancer would stay away for another couple
of days.

“I’ll do my best. Sorry to—you know, I’m—”

“Don’t. Don’t apologize. This was my error. It was a snap judgment, and I should have
gathered more information about what was going on in California before I sent you
there. Just stay safe, and try to be patient. I’ll get you out of there.”

“Thank you,” I said, giving Sara an exaggerated nod to answer her questioning look.
“I found an old friend. Maybe we can stay with him until it’s time to go home. Or
go to Sara’s sister’s place—”

“No. Not yet. The complications of insulting Clyde are too numerous for me to go into
right now, but trust me when I tell you it is a bad idea. Let me call him. Just stay
with him for now. I’ll get you out of there as fast as I can.”

We said our good-byes, and I hung up, shoving the phone into my pocket. It would probably
come in handy later.

“We have to stay here for now,” I said to Sara, moving around the car to take the
driver’s seat, “but he’s going to get us out as soon as he can.”

She pushed off the hood and kicked the nearest tire with a curse, then got in the
passenger side. “Seriously? Why can’t we just get out of town right now? Stay at Janine’s
place in Malibu?”

“We can’t risk upsetting Clyde. Some vampire political bullshit.”

She cursed again, but more quietly, resigned. “What are we going to do? I don’t want
to go back there. What if the necromancer follows us or shows up while we’re there?”

I tilted my head against the headrest, closing my eyes. There were no easy answers—though
an idea occurred to me. “Maybe we can pretend like we’re still on the case for Clyde,
but slip away and hang out with the White Hats for a while. Devon probably wouldn’t
mind having us around.”

Sara snorted. “White Hats. Since when did they become the better option?”

That got a small laugh out of me. With a resigned sigh, I opened my eyes. Time to
go face Clyde and see what he thought of this mess.

I handed her Shannon’s directions, my fingers tight on the steering wheel as I stared
at the street ahead of us. Having a meltdown would have to wait until I was somewhere
quiet and alone. The temptation to drive somewhere—anywhere—else was eating at me
like a cancer. I put the car into drive and peeled off, tires squealing, as I made
for the freeway.

“This sucks,” she whispered.

My answer to Sara, when it finally came, was as much for me as it was for her.

“You’re telling me.”