Garnet Lacey - Tall, Dark And Dead Part 26

"Why not?" Sebastian asked.

"What's a dhampyr?" William added.

"Because," I said, hoping to answer both questions at once, "Matyas is a magical. He's got vampire blood running in his veins. The Order might be operating in conjunction with him, but they're totally playing him, Sebastian. Once they get what they want, he's dead."

"The Vatican wouldn't waste a perfectly capable vampire hunter," Sebastian said with a shrug.

"Especially considering he's the only one of his kind."

"Why would they want a vampire hunter, Sebastian? They hunt Witches. And now they're going to use your formula to make an army of holy vampires. I'd think the last thing they want in their employ is someone capable of destroying them. Matyas is screwed."

Sebastian took a sip of his drink and then made a face. I wasn't sure if his disgusted expression reflected his feelings toward the beverage or my comment. "s.h.i.t." "Yeah," I agreed.

We were all silent for a moment, lost in our respective thoughts. I looked longingly at the coffee bar, wishing that the barista hadn't already closed for the night. I'd kill for a strong cup of coffee. I had a feeling tonight was going to be a long one.

"Are you... you seem like you might be very old," William said. Though it was phrased like an insult, William made it sound like a huge compliment.

"Very, very old," Sebastian said with a nod, looking deeply into William's eyes. He'd thrown an arm over the back of the couch at some point, and his fingertips brushed the fabric of William's shirt. For his part, William seemed to lean into Sebastian's touch, like a lover.

"So, is it true what they say? The older the vampire, the stronger the kiss?"

"Oh, yes, definitely," Sebastian said with a smile. And suddenly, when their eyes met, there was that intimacy again. Sebastian's hand now rested quite obviously on William's shoulder. His fingers splayed so one of them could stroke the line of William's neck.

"Wow," William breathed.

"Yes." Like a cat, Sebastian had crept closer to William, even though I swore I'd never taken my eyes off them. Their knees touched. He was totally coming on to my friend. Right in front of me. I knew Sebastian was hungry, but couldn't he wait until they were alone to try to score one on my buddy?

"h.e.l.lo? Break it up, boys," I said. "We still need to get Sebastian's grimoire."

William blinked as if shaking off a spell. "Oh, right. Uh, follow me. I know the bar the Goth guy was talking about. It's not far at all."

Since State Street is a pedestrian mall and only buses are allowed to drive it, we decided to walk.

People-tourists and students mostly, by the look of them-crowded the sidewalk. We actually had to shoulder our way through bodies cl.u.s.tered near entrances to various establishments.

Strangely, a glance one block in either direction showed only empty sidewalks. Apparently people came to Madison to see State Street and nothing else.

I scanned the pa.s.sing faces for Parrish. I'd given the boys a verbal description of Parrish's vitals, but they both looked baffled at the concept of a Leo's mane, so I didn't have much hope that they'd be able to identify him.

When I had a chance, I grabbed Sebastian's elbow to pull him close. "Back in the coffee shop, what were you playing at?"

Sebastian's pupils had expanded in the darkness. Only a sliver of brown remained. He looked high.

"What do you mean?"

I jerked my chin in the direction of William, whose shock of black hair dodged around a gaggle of UWjocks and through a pride of bar floozies. He was only a pace or so in front of us. I kept my voice low as I said, "With William. All the touching." Sebastian gave me a blank look, so I added, "All the lingering gazes. I thought I was going to have to throw cold water on both of you."

"Jealous?"

"As a matter of fact, yeah."

"Don't be," he said. "I'm so hungry anything looks good."

That was kind of a dis of William, so I gave Sebastian a disapproving frown. "You had Matyas less than an hour ago."

"Yes, but I didn't take nearly as much as I wanted, and most of that went toward healing the sun damage from this morning." His gaze followed the floozies as they pa.s.sed, lingering on exposed and ample a.s.sets. "That wasn't nearly enough."

Now he not only looked like a junkie, he talked like one, too. Just in the past couple of hours, Sebastian had started to look gaunt, a little too skinny to be s.e.xy, particularly around his cheeks, like his skin was stretched tight over bone. In fact, the wordcadaverous sprang to mind. I wondered how long it would be before his thirst became unquenchable and he died.

We came abreast of William when we gathered at a corner, waiting for the traffic light to change. A silver Ford Taurus came within a foot of us, and I recognized the driver at the same instant she recognized me. It was Rosa.

Brake lights flashed. I grabbed Sebastian's hand, and then nearly dropped it. His skin had already become icy cold.

"Run," I shouted to William, who still stood on the corner, while trying to drag an uncooperative vampire into oncoming traffic. "Vatican."

A couple of stoner college types we'd been standing next to gave me a wide-eyed stare at the last part of my warning, but everyone started screaming when Rosa stepped out of her vehicle and aimed a .45 in our general direction.

And William coldc.o.c.ked her.

There was a crunch of bone, which could have been his knuckles, but the effect was the same: Rosa went from shocked to unconscious. William looked at his fist like he'd never seen it before.

Sebastian and I ran back over and pushed our way through the growing crowd of curious onlookers.

Rosa's nose had caved in. Blood covered her face and a large portion of her power suit.

"I think I broke my knuckles," William said quietly, as if to himself.

Sebastian reached down to relieve Rosa of her gun. I noticed him pause at the sight of all that fresh blood. His hand hovered over her wet cheek, and I thought for a moment he might dip his finger for a taste. He stopped himself and pocketed the gun instead. Rosa moaned.

I looked through the crowd for someone with a cell phone. I spotted a geek boy with a utility beltcontaining both a cell and a BlackBerry and G.o.ddess knew what all else. "You," I said, "Call 911."

Then I clasped hands with William and Sebastian and dragged them away from Rosa's body.

We ducked into the first bar that we came to. I ensconced the boys at a dark corner table and flagged down a harried-looking waiter. The waiter gave us a long, disapproving look. I could only imagine what he thought of us: two Goths and a pale guy. We must have seemed like a matching set, all in black. "I'm starving," Sebastian muttered.

"Honey, I doubt we have what you're looking for," the waiter said.

"Oh?" I asked, after exchanging glances with William. "What do you think we're looking for?"

"Two doors down," he said, with a sardonically arched eyebrow. When we didn't get whatever hint he tossed us, he put a fist on his narrow hip. "Look around, darlings, this is a sports bar. You'll like the atmosphere at the Cavern much better."

The Cavern? That sounded cheesy. Sadly, I could totally see Parrish hanging out at a place like that.

Sebastian, however, looked like he was ready to pick a fight with our judgmental waiter.

"Thanks for the tip," I said.

"Rude little p.r.i.c.k," Sebastian was muttering, as we pushed ourselves back out into the ebb and flow of State Street. "I should have eaten him."

"I think I broke my knuckles," William said.

I was a little disappointed to be on the move again, since I was worried that William had slipped into some kind of post-violence shock.

"It'll be okay," I said to both of them. My own bruised hands ached in sympathy for William. To Sebastian I said, "Can you give William one of your cards? It's been such a crazy night, I'm worried we're going to get separated."

"Sure," Sebastian said, handing one over.

The Cavern proved easy to spot. The exterior of the windowless, one-story building was painted black.

The throb of industrial metal pulsed through closed doors. Pale, skinny boys with lots of tattoos and leather pants hung around the entrance, trying to look menacing. Their withering glances might have worked on me if I hadn't been holding hands with a thousand-year-old bloodsucker and amazing beta-male punching guy.

I ignored the not-so-scary boys and pushed open the door. Before my voice was lost in the relentless pound of the music, I said, "We'll collect the grimoire from Parrish, and then we can all go home and go to bed." "Sounds good," I heard William say.

At the door, a grim-faced, bald bouncer collected a five-dollar-apiece cover charge and then waved us into the dark, smoke-filled interior.

The Cavern was misnamed. The place bore more resemblance to an amphitheater.

On the level we entered there was a coat check and the long, dark wood bar you might find in any tavern in Wisconsin. Neon beer advertis.e.m.e.nts reflected off a rear mirror and rows of bottles of hard liquor. That was where the similarity to a typical club ended.

A sunken stage occupied the center of the room. On progressively lower tiers, tables and chairs had been arranged. At the very bottom, just above stage level, stadium-style seating began.

The place was packed. I couldn't see a single seat unoccupied. Apparently, we were relegated to the standing-room-only section. People crowded around a metal railing, watching the show. I poked my head around a friendly looking shoulder to see what all the fuss was about.

I'd thought finding Parrish in the crowd would be difficult. I should have known he'd find a way to be center stage. Really, he was such a Leo.

I heard a sharp intake of breath as Sebastian came up beside me. "Dear G.o.d."

"That's for real," William added. "Isn't it?"

It was.

In the middle of a red-tinted spotlight, Parrish stood. His teeth sank deeply into the exposed throat of a bound, gagged, and very fetishized victim. That is to say, there was lots of leather, buckles, harnesses, piercings, and other S&M/B&D gear.

Two steel poles had been sunk into the stage floor. The woman was stretched tautly between them, secured by chains and handcuffs that rattled every time she flinched.

She wasn't exactly naked, but she might as well have been. The corset she wore pushed her already ample b.r.e.a.s.t.s into a jiggling mound of flesh. There was a cutaway that would have exposed areolae, but, apparently in deference to decency laws, a nipple shield with corresponding painful-looking clamps covered the naughty bits.

At least at the top.

The thong exposed an amazing lack of hair between her legs. I'm sure I was supposed to be t.i.tillated by the sight, but all I could think was:Wow, she must have paid a fortune for electrolysis . I was also sure the people in the seats behind her must have had a great view of her mostly naked b.u.t.tocks.

Then there were the thigh-high boots. Even though the heels on them looked like they could have been registered as torture devices, I was actually jealous-they looked cool.

Yet, in my opinion, Parrish was even s.e.xier. He had on his form-hugging leather pants, but he was bare chested. Always an excellent fashion choice for him. The stage lights cast deep shadows that only highlighted the angles and muscles of his body. As we watched, Parrish moved around his victim's body, slowly puncturing exposed flesh with sharp canines. Tiny droplets of blood ran from each carefully placed wound. The woman shivered and pushed against the restraints at every bite.

Even so, I'd say she was enjoying it. So was the crowd.

I have to admit I must have gotten into it myself, because I never noticed Sebastian leaving my side. Like the rest of the room, I watched in surprise as Sebastian leapt over the stadium seats to land behind Parrish. Grabbing a fistful of hair, Sebastian forcibly pulled Parrish from his victim.

Then he slapped him.

I don't know what I'd been expecting, probably something more on the lines of a William-style roundhouse. Instead, Sebastian tapped Parrish with a courtly, gentlemanly, I-challenge-you-to-a-duel, girly-man smack on the cheek.

The two men exchanged words. I strained to hear them over the booming ba.s.s and the angry shouts of the spectators. The woman strapped in a compromising position on the stage struggled furiously against her bonds, but she was completely forgotten when Parrish returned Sebastian's slap with a punch in the gut.

"What the h.e.l.l are they doing?" William asked.

Beating the c.r.a.p out of each other as far as I could tell. Because, just then, Sebastian came back with an uppercut that popped Parrish's head backward with a snap.

"We have to break them up," I said.

"Yeah, but how?"

It was times like these that I wished magic were more sensational. If I could call down a fireball or whip up some kind of cosmic light show, I could distract the crowd long enough to get down there and haul them both out. I closed my eyes and tried to think. Taking in a few slow, deep breaths, I centered myself.

I thought maybe, if I cleared my mind, something would occur to me.

In the pocket of my jeans, I felt the Mercury dime heating up.

A gun poked me in the small of my back. "Your time is up, little Witch." It was Rosa.

Tenth House

KEYWORDS:.

Bad Luck, Orthodoxy, Ambition

The muzzle of the gun poked me like a sharp stone in the rib cage. Rosa placed a firm hand on myshoulder, and her lips brushed my earlobes as she said, "Nice and easy. We're going to slip outside."

I shuffled in the direction she suggested, propelled by her iron grip. William, who had been engrossed in the action onstage, looked at me askance. His face twisted into a frown when he recognized Rosa.

"Don't even think about it," Rosa mouthed over the noise of the bar.

William took a hesitating step forward. I shook my head. He'd gotten far too involved in all of this mess anyway. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I lost another friend to Vatican a.s.sa.s.sins. William backed away, but out of the corner of my eye I saw him reach for his cell phone as he headed for the rear exit.