Shaded Vision: An Otherworld Novel (12 page)

Marion found what she was looking for in her desk and tossed it across the desk. “Trixie left this in the break room last week.”

I picked up the matchbook. The cover had a logo of a green flaming wheel with an X in the center of it, against a black background. Across it, in white lettering, it read, The Energy Exchange. I flipped it over and read the address, but I already knew where it was. We’d seen it before.

“Okay. So we’ve got an ancient necromancer, sorcerers, the Koyanni, and this club. And somehow they’re all linked together. I don’t think the vampires as a whole are involved, Bryan not withstanding.” I tossed the matchbook to Camille, who held it in her hands and closed her eyes.

After a moment she opened her eyes and hastily put it down on the table. “Yeah…we’ll have a talk about this in a while. I don’t like the places it’s taking me.” She glanced at me and mouthed
Demonkin
. Marion was too preoccupied to notice.

“Did she talk about Bryan much?” I figured Menolly could track him down and—if Roman backed her up—they might be able to question him.

“She didn’t say much. As I said, our parents had a fit when they found out. And I knew he was trouble. It’s not that I don’t like vampires…but this guy…he felt predatory—all vampires are, but he felt on the verge, constantly. I worried about her safety.”

Marion pushed back a stray strand of her hair that had escaped the ponytail and let out a deep sigh. “Truth is, Trixie was the rebel of the family. She didn’t fit in. For one thing, she didn’t want children and that was a big issue. The folks wanted her to get married and have a passel of kids. And they wanted her to settle down, to build a life like I have. But she hopped from job to job. She hitchhiked to California a couple years ago to live with the drummer from Dead End Boys—she was a fang hag all the way. But that didn’t work out, so she came back and went to work for me.”

She looked at me, her eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Find out who killed her, please. Trixie wasn’t the brightest bulb in the socket, but that made her special. And…she was my sister.”

As she suddenly busied herself straightening up her desk, we took that as our clue. I scooped up the matchbook and put it in my pocket, and we filed out. By the time we hit the front door, I’d forgotten all about buying myself one of her cinnamon rolls. The pain on Marion’s face had killed my appetite.

Back in the car, Camille held out her hand for the matchbook again. She shuddered as I dropped it into her palm. “This is nasty. Demonkin energy—and I’m beginning to recognize Tregart energy in particular, we’ve run into so many of them.”

Chase made a small sound. I glanced over at him. It had
been a Tregart who had almost killed him, who had changed his life forever. He’d been terrified of them since last year, but now the look in his eyes was borderline dangerous. He didn’t so much look frightened as pissed.

“So we’ve got Van and Jaycee—I think we can safely say they’re wrapped up in this. They’re both sorcerers and Tregarts. We’ve got a magical club that seems to be connected to everything. Telazhar’s most likely involved…what else are we missing?”

“The kitchen sink?” Camille snickered, but then pressed her lips together. “Whatever they’re up to, you can bet it’s no good. Question: why Trixie? Why use her this way?”

“Because she knows about the coyote shifters. Because the Koyanni are out to even the score and they hate their less volatile brethren. Because…” A cold sweat washed over me. “Because Marion told us about the Koyanni and they found out, somehow, that she’s the one who outed them.”

Camille snapped her fingers. “And Trixie might have told them that. Or…killing Trixie…murder makes good revenge against someone you hate—kill their family members?”

“I think you’re right, but it doesn’t fully account for them blowing up the Supe Community Center. And why not just kill Trixie alone, why destroy others?” Chase cleared his throat. “I still have a feeling they’re trying to drive a wedge between the FBHs and the Supes. Getting Trixie in the mix that was a bonus.”

I thought about it for a bit. “You may be right. They could also be trying for a psychological edge. They know we have a small army, so either they must be confident they outnumber us or they’re doing their best to psych us out before we meet. Set us on guard. Make us jump.”

Camille leaned forward against the backseat again. “So what next?”

“We should check on the other two families and see if there was any link to the Energy Exchange, because that seems to be our primary connection so far.” Chase put the car in gear and we headed off to our next victim’s house.

By the time we finished up, we hadn’t found any connection between Thomas and Salvatore and the Energy Exchange.

Chase dropped us off in the parking lot. “Sharah and I’ll see you tonight at seven.” He paused. “So, you don’t think it’s weird that I’m dating a relative?”

I laughed. “Sharah’s so far removed that you really shouldn’t worry. And think of it, dude…you’re related to royalty.”

He shook his head, looking a little dazed. “I still can’t believe that I’m part elf. A very small part, but…”

“Welcome to our world.” Camille shook her head. “Guess what, you’re part minority now. When Andy Gambit writes his sleaze column, he’s writing about you, too. Think about that the next time you lecture me for smacking that pervert’s face. I still think I should tell Smoky what he did.”

“No! I mean…let it be for now. I’ll see if I can get through to him that a nice long vacation out of Seattle might be a good idea.” Chase headed back into the building as we climbed into my Jeep.

Camille fastened her seat belt. “So what do we do about the Energy Exchange?”

“We do what we always do. Investigate, see what we can dig up on it.” I eased the Jeep out of the parking lot and we headed toward home. “And we ask Menolly to convince Roman to tell us about Bryan. In fact, I wouldn’t mind a look at that website. Maybe we can find Trixie’s postings online.”

“You think Roman would tell us even if he has information about this guy?” Camille shrugged. “We still don’t know a lot about Roman, or what he eventually wants with Menolly. She’s convinced he’s okay and I trust her, but let’s face facts—he’s an ancient vampire, more powerful than even Dredge was, and he’s the son of Blood Wyne, the Queen of the Crimson Veil. He’s not necessarily going to rat out a fellow vampire.”

I’d had my own doubts about Roman but had been reluctant to mention them. And even though Menolly was overtly
suspicious of just about everybody, for some reason, she’d let down her guard with him. I had the feeling that reason directly involved the outlet he gave her for the sexuality that she couldn’t express with Nerissa. Not without putting her lover at risk. Vampire bloodlust could be a powerful and persuasive force.

“Yeah, we need to check these things out, but tonight is Iris’s wedding and there’s no way I’m sneaking away from it to go hunt down a club. But tomorrow, we start digging. Menolly can go with us. Derrick can handle the bar.” I put the car in gear. “Now, let’s surprise Iris by getting home early.”

Camille’s phone rang. She grumbled as she answered it. “Yeah? What now?…Oh, for cripe’s sake! Can’t you handle—no…no…okay, we’ll be there in ten minutes.”

As she hung up and looked at me, I had a sinking feeling in my stomach that just kept dropping and dropping. “Who are we fighting this time?”

“That was Chase. A sizable group of bikers—Shamas says they’re Tregarts, but to everybody else they look like a bunch of thugs—are trashing the Davinaka mini-mall. Take Aurora Boulevard and turn left onto Alpine. And let’s get there as soon as we can—the owners are caught inside. Chase will get there as soon as he can.”

Cursing all the way, I put the Jeep into gear while Camille called home for backup. If the demons put a crimp in Iris’s wedding, I’d skewer them and toast them over a bonfire.

The Davinaka was one main shop surrounded by smaller vendors in an enclosed mini-mall, run by Supes, mostly for Supes. The shops contained items that you couldn’t find at Target. While the smaller stalls were leased by individuals, the Davinaka itself was owned by Jade Thompson, a shifter of unknown origin. Even she didn’t know her background or how she got to be the way she was, but she could shift into several forms and had joined the Supe Community a few months ago.

By the time we got there, Smoky, Morio, and Shade were on their way through the Ionyc Seas. They were bringing our
weapons. We swung out of the Jeep just as they appeared in the parking lot, on one of the middle islands near a bare-branched Madroña tree. A bench had been built around the trunk.

We hurried over to them, and Shade handed me Lysanthra, my silver long-bladed dagger with whom I had a symbiotic relationship. Morio handed Camille a dagger.

“What have we got?” Smoky asked. “You said Tregarts?”

“Group of them. There’s the prowl car. Shamas and his partner are in there.” I nodded to the police cruiser over near the door. The car bore the mark of the FH-CSI on the doors.

As we headed over in their direction, another car pulled in, siren silent but blue and red lights flashing across the top. Chase had arrived. He screeched into a parking lot and leaped out of the driver’s seat.

The only ones talking were Morio and Camille. Their heads were together as they whispered. I could feel the dark sparkle of death magic shrouding them. Planning out their spells, no doubt. Ever since Morio had healed up, he’d taken on a decidedly wilder air; he seemed a little more feral than usual. And he’d also taken on a more possessive stance when he was around Camille.

As we approached the door, I looked at Chase. “Do you know how many?”

Chase frowned. “On the radio, Shamas said there were about ten. They’re tearing up the joint, and he and Thayus are holding their own but they can’t take all of them on. And they can’t get to the hostages.”

“Thayus is new, isn’t he?” Camille shot a quick glance his way.

“Yes. He’s Svartan. I don’t know if Trillian knows him or not.” Chase flashed her a quick grin. “And yes, I know they don’t all know each other—no more than all Seattleites know each other.”

“Okay, then. So we go in, and we take them out.” I swung into the front position. “Let me take the lead. I’m itching for a good fight. It’s been too long.”

My pulse quickened as the others looked at me and moved aside. I’d been out of commission, healing up, and while I’d helped out as much as I could during Camille’s kidnapping, that hadn’t been enough. I needed to feel like I was making a difference, that I wasn’t letting my family and friends down.

The doors to the Davinaka had been ripped off their hinges and tossed aside, the metal twisted and bent. Tregarts were unnaturally strong demons who mimicked humans. Some of them had
been
human at one point, giving themselves over to the demons for transformation. They looked like a group of Hell’s Angels—not a bad thing—but in comparison, the bikers were a troop of Boy Scouts. Most FBHs would sense something unnatural about them but likely put it down to aggression.

We approached from the side and I cautiously peeked around the corner. I could hear a lot of screaming and yelling from the back of the store, on the right side. There didn’t seem to be any guards posted—Tregarts were a cocky group.

“Psst. Over here.” Shamas was hiding near the end of an aisle, and we quietly joined him. He peeked around the end of the shelving unit, then turned back to us. “It’s bad. They caught sight of Thayus and started chasing him—I don’t know if he made it or not, but there was nothing I could do to help him. They’re on a rampage. The owners and most of the customers managed to reach the back of the store. Jade’s a smart cookie. She had a solid steel door made with a lock that resists picking and had it installed on the break room. I don’t know what she’s been through to make her so paranoid, but whatever it was, that paranoia is saving the life of her and her customers. As far as I can tell, the demons are still trying to break through.”

There was blood spattered on the floor near Shamas. Camille reached out and touched his arm. “Is that yours? Are you hurt?”

He shook his head. “No, they managed to catch a few of the customers and…let’s just say there are casualties. I hid
here. They either forgot about me or are more interested in prying that door open.”

The image of someone trying to pry the lid off a can of sardines flashed through my head, and I tried to shake it away.

“Anything else we should know before we take them on?” I was thinking more about how they were armed or whether he’d picked out who the leader was, but when he spoke, Shamas managed to knock me off my guard. All of us, really.

He cocked his head to the side and let out a long sigh. “Yeah, there is. I’d hoped to avoid this, but you have to know. I recognize one of them.”

“How—where did you see him before?”

Camille let out a little sound that might have been a squeak, and she took a step back. “No…oh Shamas, no…”

His voice was gruff as he met her eyes. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? You guessed sometime back but you never confronted me about it.”