The Reluctant Goddess (The Montgomery Chronicles Book 2) (8 page)

Kenisha and Mikey, sitting in a tree

San Antonio isn’t really a foodie town. Not like Portland or San Francisco or even Austin. We do, however, have hole in the wall joints that produce excellent Mexican food. The restaurant Kenisha had chosen wasn’t one of those, unfortunately. It was Dukes, a steak place where the dress code is practically western.
 

I wasn’t wearing boots.
 

The place was dark with flickering red candles on each of the dozen or so wood tables. Kenisha sat with her back to the wall, her eyes on the front door.

I could barely see my hand in front of my face. If vampires needed to pretend to eat, this was the place. It was probably a vampire hangout for that very reason.

Kenisha was dressed in what I considered her uniform: a dark blue blazer and a white blouse. Since she was sitting, I couldn't tell if she was wearing a skirt or pants, but my guess was pants and steel toed shoes.

Her eyes widened a little as she saw us but she didn't say anything as we took the other three chairs.

I recently read something on the Daily Mail Online describing a black model as a Nubian Princess. I wasn't exactly sure what a Nubian Princess was like, but I bet Kenisha would qualify. Her lips were full, almost pouting regardless of her expression. Her nose was flat and broad yet had the ability to flair when she was especially displeased. Trust me, I’d seen that expression a lot. Her complexion was not the coffee au lait I'd seen so often, but much darker, almost chocolate in color. Her high cheekbones gave her an air of queenly superiority. Or maybe that was the Nubian Princess coming out. Her hair was tightly braided and arranged in a bun at the nape of her neck.
 

She was studying Mike.
 

Gone was the flatness in her eyes, replaced by what I interpreted as interest. One eyebrow arched upward, marring the perfect brow and a corner of the pouty lips turned up.
 

I don’t care what she said from that moment on, the half smile gave her away.
 

“This is Dan," I said, motioning to my right. "And Mike," I added, gesturing to my left.

"You really don't need bodyguards, Montgomery," Kenisha said.

"They’re not bodyguards. They’re friends.”
 

We took a seat at the table. I sat across from Kenisha with Mike on my left and Dan to my right. I felt like I was in a testosterone sandwich.
 

I noticed, with a little bit of smugness, that Kenisha and Mike were giving each other the once over. Neither of them looked at me, which was a sign that my matchmaking skills were alive and well and living in San Antonio.

Dan, however, sent me a glance, one that said we were going to have to talk about this later. Fine, as long as he spilled the beans about the disappearing humans.
 

"I wanted to talk to you alone," Kenisha said, when she could tear her eyes away from Mike.

I smiled. "Trust me, Dan and Mike can hear anything. My life is an open book to them."

They knew everything: the way Maddock wanted to latch onto me as an incubator and what I’d done to Il Duce to try to kill him. The only thing I hadn't come out and told Dan in so many words was the rape, but I suspected he’d figured that out on his own.

She shrugged, a gesture that opened her jacket a little more. Mike's eyes fastened on her endowments, to the point I wanted to elbow him to get his attention back where it belonged.

Her tone was brusque as usual. “I don’t know how it happened,” she said. “But your mother has escaped. She hasn’t even been arraigned yet and she just walked out of the jail.”

I stared at her, wondering if I’d heard her correctly.
 

“In view of the last time you saw your mother,” she was saying, “I thought it was best to warn you.”

My mother didn’t know where I was. My grandmother didn’t even know. I doubted my mother even knew about my townhouse. She’d never been there. I never bothered to invite her. Why stick your heart on your sleeve when you know someone’s just going to knock it off and stomp on it?

It’s not that I was broken up about my mother. Ever since I was a child, I knew that she was different, that our relationship was not the type that other people had. Other girls actually liked their mothers, shared confidences with them, looked up to the women who raised them.

I’ve spent most of my life avoiding my mother at all costs. Even into my adulthood I had found that it was a good choice.

Evidently, her escape wasn’t the worst of it.

“From what we’ve heard, she joined the The Militia of God. We suspect they're hiding her."

I blinked at her. “What do you mean, they’re hiding her? Don’t you have a warrant for her arrest? Didn’t she escape from the jail?”

Kenisha’s eyes turned flat again. “Yes and yes, but unless you know where she is, there isn’t much we can do.”
 

“Are they claiming sanctuary?” Dan asked.
 

I frowned at him. “Can they do that?”
 

“Not legally, but they can make a public stink. Lots of people aren’t all that happy with vampires being among us. They could play on that.”
 

Kenisha nodded, glanced at Mike, then back at Dan.
 

I didn't know much about The Militia of God, other than that they hated anyone who wasn’t human and weren’t shy about promoting that hatred. They’d adopted a cute little ghost symbol and drawn a red line through it, reminding me of the movie out years ago. Their television commercials were well done. The last one had featured an innocent looking little girl with golden hair sitting on the steps in front of her house at dusk. A vampire had accosted her, promising her candy and delivering death, instead. The last frame showed her drained white, crimson blood drops sprinkled across her pink dress.
 

Their membership had grown to millions in the last few years.
 

Dan and Mike looked at each other. I could almost see their antennae shiver. God forbid they should actually have antennae.

One of these days we were all going to sit in a Kumbaya circle and fess up. They knew everything to know about me, but I didn't know anything about them. Exactly what were they? Not quite human, I was certain, but what I didn’t know.

"Oh goodie," I said, for lack of anything else to say in the silence. "But why didn't you tell me on the phone? Why did we have to meet in person?"

"That's not the purpose of this meeting," she said.

I got that feeling again, a prickling at the nape of my neck. I looked around, surreptitiously. No one looked back at me. No witches stared holes in me. If there were other vampires in the room among the diners, I couldn't tell. They didn't exactly give off an odor to me anymore, which was a damn shame. I could've at least figured out who they were by their smell.

“The Council wants me to ask you something,” Kenisha said.

The feeling traveled from the back of my neck to lodge in my stomach.

Dan reached under the table and grabbed my hand, holding onto it tightly. I didn’t know if he was signaling for me to shut up or just giving me moral support.
 

"Are you working for the Council now?" I asked.

"They thought I might be able to tell if you were lying," she said. "Because we were fledglings together."

I could tell from the curl of her lip what she thought of that idea. We had attended exactly one orientation class together. Granted, our relationship went a little deeper than that, since she considered me responsible for Ophelia's death and I had asked her to arrest my mother, but that was about it. We weren’t going to call each other for coffee or giggle about guys.
 

"About what?"

Good, my voice didn't sound as frightened as I felt.

The Council had jurisdiction over vampire crimes. The legal system didn't know what to do with the undead, so they were grateful to the vampire Council for stepping in and adjudicating anything involving a vampire.

My attempt to kill Maddock was definitely one of those crimes they would handle. If they knew about it. To the best of my knowledge, they didn’t and I wasn’t going to blab to Kenisha.

She glanced at the two men, then leaned over the table, whispering to me. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was embarrassed.
 

"Are you menstruating?"

Well, hell, I hadn't expected that question.

My eyes opened wide. I hoped she perceived my expression as a look of astonishment instead of just surprise.
 

"I'm a vampire," I said. "You've read the pamphlets. You know, the ones that say your body is changing. Kind of opposite the ones we got when we started our periods, remember?"

I suspected she cultivated that stone facade when she arrested people or interrogated suspects. Was that what I was, a suspect?
 

Great. One more threat. Like I needed another.
 

"The Council has heard differently,” she said.
 

"From whom? Not my gynecologist, that's for sure."

I pushed my chair back and stood. "If that's all, Kenisha, I have things to do and places to see and people to meet. And miles to go before I sleep."

I'd always liked that Frost poem.
 

Her eyes narrowed as she stared at me, then finally she let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.
 

"I told them it was crazy to even ask.”
 

I only nodded. "Thanks for the information about my mother," I said.

As I left the table, I wished I had the courage to ask about Maddock. Was he foaming at the mouth yet? Evincing signs of dementia? With Maddock it would be difficult to tell.
 

I wound my way through the restaurant, my departure disconcerting the approaching waitress.
 

"I'm sorry ma'am, we’re really busy,” she said, clutching her menus.
 

"It's not you,” I said, stopping my determined departure. “I just realized I have to be somewhere else.”
 

I smiled my bright white artificial smile and got the hell out of the restaurant. After a moment, I realized Dan was beside me, but Mike was nowhere in evidence. I had brought him here for the express purpose of getting him interested in Kenisha. The fact that he stayed behind now annoyed the hell out of me.

"He's getting her number," Dan said.

"I thought he couldn't date vampires."

“His rule, not mine.”

I gave him a sideways glance. "We need to talk. I mean, really talk. I want to know what's going on at the castle. I want to know who you are. And what you are."

"We'll talk," he said. “But I'm not a shape shifter.”

“Are you a werewolf, elf, gnome, or other species of Brethren?”
 

When he shook his head, stopped and faced him.
 

“You’re something, Dan. I can command a human. I can inject a thought into their head. I can’t do that with you.”
 

For a second he looked startled before his face smoothed of all expression.
 

“Are you going to tell me?” I asked.
 

“There’s nothing to tell, Marcie.”
 

I got into the Jeep without saying a word. When Mike finally joined us, I didn’t ask if he’d gotten Kenisha’s number. In fact, I didn’t open my mouth all the way back to the castle.
 

For me, that was saying a whole bunch. Like how I suddenly didn’t trust Dan and that the realization hurt a lot more than it should have.

C
HAPTER
N
INE

A book is like a garden carried in the pocket

The normal channels of information were closed to me, only because nobody knew anything about a Dirugu, which is what I suspected I was, a weird combination of witch and vampire. I was a creature who could do what vampires had always yearned to do: walk in the sun, eat, and procreate. It was the procreate bit that made life a bit dodgy for me lately.
 

I’d already gone the public library route. Google had failed me. We had dozens of universities either in San Antonio or nearby. Was there anything like a College of Metaphysical Myths somewhere? I wasn’t going back to Eagle Lady. Once burned, twice shy and all that. I didn't know any vampires I could trust.
 

Yes, I was ignoring the fact that I was one.
 

Hermonious Brown was my best bet.
 

I encountered the same overprotectiveness at the door as yesterday. This time, however, I wasn’t in the mood to barter. I was still miffed by the non-conversation of the night before, along with the feeling that Dan wasn’t being entirely honest with me.
 

“I’m leaving,” I said. “Get over it. Follow me if you want. I don’t give a rat’s ass.”
 

The worm, she was turning.
 

Both Dan and Mike looked surprised. Good. Let them see me angry for once, not sweet little Marcie Montgomery trying to be all pleasant and tolerant.