Blue-Blooded Vamp (2 page)

Asclepius pursed his lips and did a little wishy-washy head shake. “In between. More like cherry red.”

I nodded. That meant I would be dealing with a youngish vamp, maybe a century or so old. Good, she would be easier to kill. “Any other distinguishing characteristics?”

“She’s a hottie.”

Again, this described most of the race. Because of their predatory advantages, vampires were usually incredibly attractive, which lowered the inhibitions of their mortal prey.

At my dubious look, Asclepius sighed. “I know what you’re thinking, but this vamp is gorgeous. If I didn’t want her dead, I’d try to fuck her myself.”

I grimaced and decided to change the subject before I lost my patience completely. “Can you at least give me more specifics about where to find her? Italy isn’t exactly small.”

His eyes shifted left. “No.”

“Why not?”

“You dare question a god?” he thundered.

I raised an eyebrow, sensing he was holding out on me.

He resisted my knowing glare for a few moments before he relented. “Fine. A cloaking ward was embedded in the chain mail so that she cannot be found by magical means.”

I laughed before I could help myself. “Wait, so you gave her an item that prevented you from finding her and then got pissed when she didn’t pay up? Way to screw yourself, dude.”

“Enough!” He took a menacing step forward.

I sobered instantly. “I apologize.” Time to get the conversation back to the big picture. “But if the vest protects her from all weapons, how exactly am I supposed to kill her?”

The god shrugged. “Not my concern.”

I bit my tongue to trap the angry curse that begged to be spoken. “How much time do I have to find her?” I said instead.

“Sabina, time is a fluid thing.” He raised his hands dismissively.

I supposed when you’re an ancient god, that might be true, but I lived in the mortal realm, where time was decidedly inflexible. I didn’t want to leave this detail open to interpretation so he could use it against me later.

“I’m gonna need something more specific.”

He sighed. “Fine. I’ll check in on you in a few days. By that time, I expect to hear you’ve put serious effort toward the task.”

In other words, I couldn’t just conveniently forget to track down this Nyx while I focused on my real goals. “Understood. I just ask that you don’t expect immediate success. Finding her alone could take several days.”

“I accept these terms.” He nodded and
thunked
his staff on the floor three times. I got the impression this was some sort of supernatural handshake. “So it is done. Gods speed, Sabina Kane.”

I expected the god to vanish in an intimidating display of fireworks; instead he simply opened the doors and exited
like any mundane passenger. Only after he reached the sidewalk did he wave his staff and disappear. The instant he did, the world exploded into a kaleidoscope of movement, color, and sound. The trolley jerked into motion with a screech. The sudden movement knocked Adam forward off the bench, where he landed at my feet. He looked up at me with a sober expression.

“What the hell just happened?”

I sighed and held out a hand to help him up. “I’ll tell you in a sec. I need to get something first.”

While the mancy dusted himself off, I wound my way through the disoriented passengers to retrieve my gun from the floor. The old biddies nearby gasped when they saw the weapon. Luckily, the trolley was already slowing again as it approached the stop at First. I tucked the gun into my waistband and pushed Adam toward the door.

“Red?” he said, shooting me a tense glance over his shoulder.

I leaned in so no one else could hear. “Asclepius just threw a colossal wrench in our plans.”

The doors finally opened. Adam hopped into the street, turned to help me down, and without missing a beat said, “Of course he did.”

We headed up First into the heart of the Garden District. Rain dropped like tears from the drooping boughs of the stately oaks. Golden lights winked at us from a few windows set high in the mansion walls, but the late hour meant we had the night mostly to ourselves.

As we walked, I filled the mancy in on the god’s request. When I finished, he was surprisingly calm. “We’ll be in Italy anyway, so I don’t see that it will distract too much
from our original mission,” he said in a reasonable tone. “Besides, assuming we even find this Nyx, it wouldn’t hurt to have a healing god on our side when shit goes down with Cain.”

“You’re probably right, but it’s a complication we don’t need.”

Adam put his arm around my shoulder and leaned into me. “Oh, what’s one more?” His tone was dry, teasing. I shot him a glare. “Listen, he said he just expects you to make an effort, right?”

I nodded.

“So we make a couple of inquiries when we get to Rome. As long as you show a good-faith effort, he can’t be pissed.”

Erron’s home was on the corner of Prytania and First. We’d visited the house a couple of times during our last trip to New Orleans, and it hadn’t changed much. Same Greek Revival architecture. Same stately columns and deep porch. Same wrought-iron fence standing guard at the sidewalk.

I paused at the gate, my sweaty palm slicking against the cold metal. My promise to find this Nyx chick would be worth nothing if I couldn’t convince Erron to help us in Rome. If he refused, we’d have no hope of tracking down the mysterious mage who went by the name “Abel” and knew more about Cain than any living being on the planet.

“Here we go,” I said. “Remind me again not to use force.”

Adam smiled. “You’ll do fine. Erron’s a reasonable guy.”

I shot Adam an ironic look.
Reasonable
wasn’t the first word that came to mind when I thought of Erron Zorn. The first time we’d met the lead singer of Necrospank 5000, he was hosting a midget orgy in his living room. “Reasonable,” I said. “Sure.”

Adam nudged me. “Just get it over with. Like pulling off a bandage.”

Taking a deep breath, I pushed open the gate. It creaked in protest, as if warning me to turn back. If I’d had the choice, I’d have done just that. But I didn’t have that luxury.

The minute Cain killed my sister, he’d cemented both our fates. I just hoped that this time, fate would be in my corner. But if it wasn’t, I prayed that I at least would be able to kill the bastard before I joined my sister in Irkalla.

As we got closer to the house, the muted strains of piano music reached my ears. At first I couldn’t place the melody. Not until I climbed the front steps and stood directly outside the front door.

Beethoven’s “Moonlight Sonata” curled under the threshold and grabbed me by the throat. As beautiful as the song was, each mournful note felt like a punch in the gut. I glanced at Adam, whose face was cast in the porch’s shadows.

“Well,” he said, “at least his taste in music has improved.”

I tried to smile, but my mouth tightened into a grimace instead. “I was hoping to find him in a good mood, but now I’m not so sure.”

The last time I’d spoken to Erron, he’d been lecturing me about optimism. Telling me that Cain was a nonissue and I could relax my guard. As far as famous parting words went, those ranked right up there with “Hey, y’all, watch this.”

I paused, wondering if I should wait. Go sit on his front steps until the song was over, or better yet come back the next night. But part of me knew I was looking for an excuse to escape the music. The melodic reminder of the things I wanted to forget.

Adam nudged me with his elbow. “Clock’s ticking, Red.”

My hand pounded on the door before I was aware of instructing it to do so. In the house, a discordant note signaled the end of the song. I stood waiting, my heart thudding in my chest. Would he answer? Or was he praying the intruder at his door would just go away?

I pounded again, calling out, “Erron! It’s Sabina and Adam.”

The door flew open. No one stood on the other side, which meant Erron had used magic to open it. Figuring this was as close to a “come in” as we’d get, I stepped into the foyer. The entire house was dark, but I could feel the beating of another heart somewhere inside. Erron’s heart. The slow, methodical beat should have reassured me, but I was too on edge to relax.

“Erron?” I whispered. The dark made calling out seem sacrilegious.

“Here.” The voice had come from the living area, where I remembered seeing a piano on my last visit. The darkness wasn’t a challenge for my vampiric sight, but something about the whole scene had my instincts on red alert.

I exchanged a wary look with Adam and withdrew the gun from my waistband. My palms were clammy and my pulse thumped in my ears. Taking careful steps, I proceeded to the archway between us and the living room. I plastered my back to the wall, and Adam took a similar posture across the way. We went still, waiting, listening.

Nothing.

“Are you alone?” I finally said in a low tone.

A light flared to life in the other room. A cynical laugh reached me. “Always.”

I frowned and chanced a peek around the corner. Sure enough, Erron slumped on the bench in front of his Steinway. His back was to us, but the bend of his shoulders and
the half-empty bottle of amber liquor told me he wasn’t in trouble or afraid. Erron Zorn, famous musician and Recreant mage, was dead drunk.

We entered the room slowly, scanning the periphery for signs of another occupant, just in case. But sure enough, Erron was alone. I relaxed my shoulders and lowered the gun. I didn’t holster it, though, didn’t trust the silence or the mood enough to relax completely.

Adam cleared his throat. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not healthy to drink alone?”

As an Adherent mage, Adam had always been a little tense around Erron. The rocker’s refusal to follow the Hekate Council’s laws made him a bit of a loose cannon in Adam’s eyes. Still, the two men also had a sort of fragile mutual respect thing going—the type that naturally builds when you’ve fought side by side.

Erron turned slowly on the bench to look at us. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been sweaty and exhausted after a show at the Jupiter Ballroom in Manhattan. But that didn’t compare to the haggard specter sitting in front of me.

His black hair was longer than when I’d last seen him, and the way it drooped limply around his face indicated he had shunned his normal regimen of styling products. Dark circles shadowed the skin under his gray eyes. Instead of the Johnny Cash wardrobe he usually favored, he wore a ratty T-shirt advertising a tour he’d done in Asia five years earlier and a pair of frayed jeans.

“Where’s Ziggy?” I asked, referring to the mage’s best friend and drummer.

Erron shrugged and played three discordant notes on the keyboard. “He quit the band. He and my stylist ran off to a private beach in the Caribbean.”

I frowned at him. “Wait, Ziggy ran off with Goldie?”
Goldie Schwartz, in addition to being Erron’s stylist, was also a sassy midget with a predilection for kinky sex.

His nod was morose. “I guess they fell in love on tour. Zig said they’re talking about a Vegas wedding.”

“But why did he quit the band?” Adam asked.

“He said I’d lost my edge.” Erron laughed bitterly. “That having mortals in the band was ruining our original vision. I told him things were safer with the mortals, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Adam and I exchanged a look. Years earlier, Cain had decided to try and recruit Erron into his secret cabal of dark races troublemakers. When the Recreant refused, Cain had punished him by hurting his mage bandmates.

While it was tempting to talk to Erron about his drama, we had more pressing matters to discuss. Ones that tied in with his reasons for insisting on a mostly human band now.

He lifted the liquor bottle and toasted us. “Anyway, I’m not drinking alone anymore, thanks to you two.” He frowned like his brain was having trouble processing information. “Wait. Why are you here? I thought you were still in New York.”

I went still. “Zen didn’t call you?”

“No, why?” Erron looked me in the eye, his expression suddenly much more sober. “What happened?”

I motioned him to pass me the bottle. He handed it over with great reluctance, like I was stealing his security blanket. I took a long pull and savored the fire spreading down my throat and into my stomach. Adam shot me a look, but I ignored it. “You know the murders we discussed when you were in New York?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. I needed to get this out as quickly as possible. “After you left, there were two more: Tanith and Orpheus were poisoned at the peace treaty signing. One second they were toasting to peace and the next”—I snapped—“toast.”

“Particularly in Tanith’s case,” Adam added, referring to the way the vampire had exploded all over the unsigned treaty.

Erron grabbed the bottle back and took a bracing swig. “Who killed them?”

I hesitated. Putting the truth into words was harder than I expected. Luckily, Adam came to my rescue.

“Maisie.”

Erron dropped the bottle like it burned him. Glass shattered and alcohol pooled on the wooden floor. “What?”

“Turns out when your friend Abel imprisoned Cain physically, it didn’t occur to him that the bastard would be able to wreak havoc through his subconscious,” Adam continued. “He was controlling Maisie through the Liminal.”

Erron scrubbed his hand over his face like he was having trouble following. “What’s the Liminal?”

This was my area of expertise and was far less painful to explain. “It’s the plane between our existence and Irkalla. It’s also where our subconscious goes when we sleep. By the time we figured out Cain was manipulating Maisie through her dreams, it was too late. His hold on her was too strong. He made her perform the ritual to free him.” I swallowed the guilt lodged in my throat. “Then he… killed her.”

Erron blanched. “Maisie’s dead?”

I nodded because I couldn’t speak. Adam’s hand came up to rest on my back. Part of me wanted to resist the comfort because I worried it might make the dam burst open. But the other part of me was thankful I hadn’t come alone to talk to the Recreant. Hell, I was relieved Adam was around, period—after all, Maisie had tried to kill him, too.