Chapter Nineteen
Dear God Almighty in Heaven, I could just see it now. A child, a sweet, innocent-looking, seven-year-old girl, running around San Francisco, torturing, raping, killing. A child vampire that wielded so much power that all the other masters in the state feared her more surely than they had ever feared something as trivial as oh, say, a vampire slayer. I couldn't put the fear of God into a vampire, not the way Claudiana could, I'm sure. The thought of her sent chills down my spine. The thought of what she had tried to do to Chase made me sick. The thought of what had been going on in San Francisco since my departure was enough to make me feel faint. And beneath all my horror and all my disgust, I felt anger. Anger at Claudiana, and anger at Mikhail. If she had been in San Francisco at the time of the Massacre, why hadn't she sent people to help Mikhail? Granted, he had gotten away from me, but half of his bloodline had been wiped out and he had been weakened considerably. It wouldn't have happened if she had sent him reinforcements, the way a proper master would. And why, after I had defeated Mikhail, hadn't she stepped up to reclaim her throne? Surely she knew that San Francisco would fall into a state of chaos without a master there to keep the balance. Granted, Mikhail was a scary son of a bitch--literally, now, it seemed--but at least he did what a city's master was supposed to do. What was Claudiana doing in her horrific castle by the sea? Just sitting back and watching the city fall to ruin around her? Was she enjoying seeing San Francisco plunging into ruin and despair? And if Mikhail was truly hiding with his master, then why wasn't he stepping up to bat and at least attempting to be the Master of San Francisco again? Was he afraid I'd come back for him, despite what he said in my visions? Come to think of it, why weren't any of Claudiana's other children who didn't have cities of their own claiming the throne for themselves, with Mikhail out of the way? My, I was just feeling angry at everyone tonight, wasn't I? I suppose anger was the only way I could deal with the horror of all I had learned in the last hour or so.
Before I really had a chance to respond to what Chase had just revealed to me, someone knocked on the office door, and it was like a spell had been lifted off the room. The tension was suddenly gone, and I felt strangely...relieved. "See who that is," Stavros demanded irritably, and I think the guards didn't know exactly who he was demanding. Shadow was the one who answered, seeing how he was closest to the door.
Shadow opened the door just enough to stick his head out into the hallway. He conversed with someone in low tones, and then closed the door, turning back to us. "It is Adalina, master," he said. "Some guards are apparently in a spot of bother downstairs."
I smiled--how could I not, when Shadow had just used the phrase "a spot of bother?"
"What has happened?" Stavros asked, seeming to be not nearly as amused by Shadow's choice of wording as I was.
"I do not know, master, something about a vampire causing some problems--he's not one of yours."
Stavros sighed. Then he looked to me. "I suppose, if our monster slayer is feeling bored..." He let the sentence trail off.
I stood and stretched lazily. "Actually, going and kicking some vampire ass sounds like the best thing I've heard all night," I said. "No offense to present company and all."
"None taken, I'm sure." Stavros was smiling, and that was a good thing. As long as we could keep the Boss happy, then that's all that mattered.
Chase stood, and suddenly I felt short, damn him. "Mind if I go with?"
"No. You look like you need to kick someone's ass, too."
So it was decided. Chase and I were kicking ass. It sounded like a plan to me.
The second story of Eternity was in an uproar. Apparently, a vampire who was not pledged to Stavros or connected to him in any way at all had gotten a little fresh with a female vampire who was connected to Stavros. The female vamp's name was Danielle, and she was uber-powerful. I could feel that before I even got across the dance floor. So if she hadn't been able to fight off her unwanted visitor on her own, that meant he must be bombastically powerful. Yeah, I just used the word bombastically. Get over it. Anyway, Danielle had called in Stavros' many guards that were set up around the club to help call off Mr. Persistent, and one guard had died. His ashes were still in a pretty undisturbed pile on the floor. Personally, I didn't think Danielle was pretty enough to kill a man--or vampire--over, but that was just me. Maybe it was the fact that I was heterosexual. No, that couldn't be it--I was comfortable enough to notice when a woman was hot or not. And Danielle just wasn't hot. Pretty, yeah, but not uber-attractive. But then again, she was uber-powerful. Maybe Mr. Persistent wasn't looking for the hot factor. Maybe he had been drawn to the power factor. Danielle had plenty of power, and then some.
Most of the club's patrons had moved off the dance floor, out of the way. Just in passing, I didn't sense a one of them that was human. Interesting. Mr. Persistent, or who I'm assuming was Mr. Persistent, was throwing around the club security like they were ragdolls. For a vampire to throw other vampires around like that was so not good. Just as he was about to impale one of the security guys on an up-turned barstool, I pulled the gun out of my inner-pants holster, and shot him in the only place I could get a clear shot, his leg. The bullet--or perhaps the silver in the bullet--seemed to get his attention. He dropped the vampire to the floor and turned until he saw me. I expected him to at least look angry that I had shot him, but instead he was smiling. "Hello, monster slayer," he said.
Don't you hate it when people know you, but you don't know them?
I wasn't going to say hello to a complete stranger, so I shot him again, this time in the kneecap of the same leg I had shot him in the first time. It crippled him and sent him down on one knee. I walked towards him, about half of my night guard at my back. The others were already surrounding him. "You know," I said once I stood just in front of him, "Stavros really doesn't like it when bad little vampires break the rules." Invoking the name of the city's master didn't seem to phase him. In fact, it was as if he hadn't heard me at all. He looked at me, and laughed, but it sounded bitter.
"When he saw it, when he said you were in league with the Master of Los Angeles," Mr. Persistent said, "I had to come see for myself."
"What are you talking about?" He made me a little uneasy, and I hate feeling uneasy, so I put the gun up to his forehead.
"Tell me," he said, as if he hadn't heard me, or had chosen to ignore me completely, "do you still have those scars I gave you?"
I opened my mouth to ask what the hell he was talking about, but then recognition filled me. This was Greghor! Another one of Mikhail's vampires who had managed to escape the warehouse before the explosion. As soon as I recognized him, I became angry. All the hatred I had for him burned bright, as if it had always been there, just under the surface. Maybe it had. And as a matter of fact, I did still have those scars that he gave me. Greghor was the one who tried to pull my spinal chord out, a little bit at a time. He had left scars across my lower back, going horizontally across my spine, from where he had clawed me open. It had all been upon Mikhail's orders, of course--that had been when I first refused his offer to make me his human consort. Of course, that wasn't the only thing Greghor had done to me, or the only scars he had given me, but those memories were just too painful to dredge up right now.
My little trip down memory lane made me hesitate, and that was all the opening Greghor needed. Faster than I, as a mere mortal, could see, he was up off the ground. He grabbed my gun hand and pulled me against him. My back was against his front, and I was disgusted to find that he was not entirely unhappy to have me pressed against him. I shuddered with disgust. He had my gun pressed against my temple. It was cocked and ready to fire. "You may need silver to hurt me," he taunted in my ear, "but a bullet is just a bullet to you."
Across the room, I saw Ardian in the shadows, quietly making his way up the stairs. I had a moment to be grateful--he was probably going to alert Stavros about the situation--but then my attention was directed to my other guards, plus Chase, who had all moved closer to me and my attacker. "If any of you come any closer, I will blow her head off," Greghor threatened. I tensed. If he had been a mere human, that threat would have held no merit. The lycanthropes or the vampires would have been able to move fast enough to get me by the time he had pulled the trigger. Unfortunately, Greghor wasn't an ordinary human. He was a powerful vampire, a master at that. There was really no way to tell just who would be quicker: my guards, or Greghor. I really, really didn't want to get shot.
Chase and Vaughn, both standing so close, and yet so far away, exchanged glances. I think they were wondering the same thing I was. Could they be quicker than Greghor and the gun? I really hoped they wouldn't test it before Stavros hopefully showed up. It wasn't like those show-downs you see in the movies. It was just a bunch of guys standing around, pointing guns at each other, with me in the middle. Which sounds like the movies, but there really is a big difference. The music had been shut off, and all the security people not involved in the struggle were evacuating all the customers out of the building. It seemed like eons that we all stood there, waiting, not moving, not even daring to breathe too loudly. And then Stavros came down the stairs.
"Greghor!" That one, angry word was filled with such power that it bit hot along all of our skins, and made me cry out a little. Stavros appeared every bit a master vampire--here's to hoping he scared Greghor enough to let me go.
"Oh, Stavros, how good of you to join our little party," Greghor said.
"Greghor, why are you here?" Stavros asked. He was suddenly just standing in front of us. I felt Greghor tense a little; good, Stavros had scared him. "Surely your master didn't send you here alone, no, that surely would be foolish of Mikhail." He laughed, as if a thought had just occurred to him. "Or maybe you came here for Kayla, but what would you want with her? Doesn't your master claim her?"
He was toying with Greghor, and we all knew it, even Greghor himself. Still, knowing that Stavros was playing with him didn't make the tension in Greghor's body go away. He was still scared of what would happen now that we had gotten the city's master involved. Apparently he hadn't thought this disturbance would warrant the master's attention. For some cities, that may have been true, but it wasn't true for Los Angeles. Stavros just wasn't like that. He cared about what went on in his city. Or he cared about what happened to me. Now there's a scary thought.
The gun was pressed into my temple harder, and Greghor relaxed a little. I really hoped he wasn't planning anything too stupid. If I got shot, I was so coming back and kicking his ass.
Power suddenly flared throughout the room, hot, almost scalding hot. I looked to Stavros, but he was normal. It wasn't his power that burned along us now. I heard Greghor curse softly; he didn't let go, but his grip loosened a little. Of course, "a little" for a vampire meant I still couldn't free myself from his hands. Everyone was staring at me, and it took me a moment to realize that the incredibly scalding power was coming from me. But that was crazy--I didn't have vampire powers! But I do, a voice whispered through my mind. I thought, Oh, shit, and then I was shoved under the surface again.
Mikhail possessed me much more completely than he had the other two times. My every thought became his, and his every thought mine. I breathed when he did, our hearts beat as one. I could feel everything he was doing, see everything he saw, and at the same time he could see everything I could, he felt everything I did. I staggered a bit in Greghor's arms with the shock of having Mikhail possess me. The words that came out of my mouth weren't mine, but I agreed with them. "Let her go, Greghor." Have you ever heard a man's voice trying to come out of a woman's throat? It's not pretty, let me tell you. You know that old saying about a toad in someone's throat? Yeah, that's about what it sounds like.
"What trickery is this?" Greghor asked, but he didn't sound certain of himself. I felt delight, giddy, inexplicable delight. I loved torturing them, making them squirm, making them doubt themselves. Or...did I? These weren't my thoughts, yet, I couldn't begin to fight them off.
"No trickery," I said. Mikhail's power--or rather, we were so deeply entwined that I wasn't entirely sure it wasn't my power--flared along Greghor's skin, making him suck in a breath of pain. "Do you doubt me, Greghor?"
It took him a minute. Old Greghor was being a bit slow tonight. "M-Master?"
I laughed, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Winter shiver. I wanted to say something to him, but...Greghor first. I would get to Winter in due time. "Very good, Greghor. Now, I will not tell you again. Let. Her. Go."
Greghor dropped me so fast that I would have stumbled, and only Mikhail's presence saved me from hitting the floor. Sad, but true. My gun hit the floor with a loud clang, and Greghor was so lucky it didn't fire when it hit. He just stood there, staring at me. I could feel him tremble. He was afraid, good. He knew he's messed up by coming here. I stook a step towards him, and he fought not to take a step back. I was his master, he should have cowered before me! Wait, no. This was wrong. But knowing it was wrong didn't give me the strength to stop it. I really regretted having taken off Chase's mother's ring, but I hadn't wanted to wear it whilst vamp slaying at Rigotoni's. Shows how much good that did me. I moved forward until I was just in front of Greghor, barely a hair's breadth between us. I could feel his breath, hot and frightened on my face, as I said, "You insolent, ungrateful little vampire."
"I--I meant no disrespect, Master," he said.
"Don't lie to me," I hissed. "Of course you meant disrespect. You never wanted to be my vampire, Greghor, and for the past seven hundred years, you have not let me forget that even once."
I got a flash of memory--no, it wasn't even a flash of memory. It was just memory. I recalled it, as if it had actually happened to me. I saw a beautiful woman, a vampire, holding a rope. The rope was around Greghor's neck, and I felt disgust. She was treating him like he was nothing more than a pet. She traded him to me. I took him, so that I could save him, but he had always resented me for it. He hadn't wanted to be saved. He resented me, and he resented her, that vampire who had made him. There was just all kinds of resentment going around. I shook the memory away, no time to think of that now, no time at all.
Greghor was cowering at my feet now, looking up at me, pleading. I swayed from wanting to just frighten him to wanting to kill him. I wasn't sure which I'd do. I gathered power, sent it towards him. It lashed at him, leaving cuts, drawing blood. He cowered, and trembled, and took the beating without a sound. My power was hot, scalding hot like fire, and the blood I drew from Greghor boiled with it. It felt so good, so fucking good to hold all that power--to weild it and know that with one thought I could end someone's life. The power-rush helped me think a little. Mikhail may have enjoyed taking lives, but I did not. As I thought that, his voice whispered through my mind, Oh, but you do enjoy killing, Kayla--otherwise you wouldn't be a monster slayer, and you wouldn't be working for Stavros now. Was he right? He was entwined so deeply in my mind it seemed almost ridiculous to doubt him, but I couldn't actually enjoy being a killer...could I? Either way, as I looked down at Greghor, I realized I was killing him slowly, one lash of power at a time.
A hand grabbed my arm almost bruisingly hard, and I knew who it was before Stavros' voice, his Greek accent thicker than I'd heard so far, said, "Enough of this foolishness, Mikhail."
As I turned to look at Stavros my power on Greghor dissipated, and he fell to the floor with a sound of relief that was somewhere between a moan and a sob. I looked at Stavros, and so many emotions went through my head that I had trouble making sense of them all. I hated Stavros, I know I hated him as fiercely as I had ever hated anyone in my thousand-year existence. Only, I hadn't existed for a thousand years, but it was too much effort to argue, especially with myself. Or, it wasn't myself. It was Mikhail. Wasn't it? I had trouble telling which thoughts belonged to me and which thoughts belonged to him. At the same time that I hated Stavros, I wanted him. I had always wanted him, since that first time I had seen him, so handsome at the Court in Athens. And underneath the hatred and the want, was jealousy. So much jealousy that it raged green and angry inside me, so that it took all my willpower just to keep it all inside. I was jealous of Stavros because he had Winter and I did not. Winter had chosen him over me, and every day that I didn't have Winter by my side was just a painful reminder of that.
Great, I managed to think. I'm caught in the middle of an all-male, vampiric love triangle.
I laughed at Stavros, but did not pull my arm away from his grasp. "Stavros, you did not think that simply biting her would keep me away for long, did you?"
"I thought it would at least buy us some time," Stavros answered.
I chuckled again, the sound making several of the non-vampires still hanging around shiver. "Either you are getting senile in your old age, or I have been giving you too much credit all these long years." I think it was meant to be an insult, but he smiled.
"I think it is you who are getting senile, Mikhail," he said. "This is the second time you have conversed with me through my servant. Why are you afraid to meet me face-to-face?"
"She is not your servant," I hissed angrily, and my power flared, raising heat along everyone's skin. "And you can never make her your servant, because if you do, you know you will lose her."
"Then I will rid her of you by force." Stavros' own power, which was cool like a November wind, was suddenly there. It hadn't rose like Mikhail's power. It was just simply there. The force of it felt like wind, cold wind. Nothing moved, but everything seemed to. I had known Stavros was really powerful, but this was just damn impressive. I felt Mikhail stumble a little in my mind, as if Stavros' power-play had caught him a little off-guard. Maybe there was some hope for me yet.
Then Mikhail became me again, and I became him, and I was shoved down yet again, into that darkness where I was aware of everything, but had control over nothing. My own power rose up like a great beast, and I directed it all to Stavros. He did stumble physically, and the heat made sweat (faintly pink with blood, as all vampire sweat is) appear like a light sheen on his tan skin. Then Winter was there, Winter, my bringer of the ice and cold. He put his hand on the small of Stavros' back, lending his power to his master. Shadow appeared on Stavros' other side and put his hand near Winter's. Stavros was now borrowing power from both his second-in-command and his animal to call. I was at a terrible disadvantage, as I doubted Greghor would come to my rescue after I almost killed him. Then I was hit with the full force of Stavros', Winter's, and Shadow's power combined, and it knocked me off my feet and sent me skidding across the still-lit dance floor. I hit the floor hard and the breath was knocked out of me, but that wasn't the only thing. The blizzard-level power had knocked Mikhail free. It was like this weight had been lifted that I hadn't wanted to be lifted. Again, I was free, but I felt empty.
Tempest was the closet guard to me, and she offered me her hand. I took it, and she pulled me to my feet like I was a doll. She handed me to Chase, who put his arm around my waist and draped my own around his shoulders. He knew better than to lift me up and carry me in front of strangers. "I gave you that ring to wear all the time," he whispered in my ear. "Shit like this wouldn't happen if you'd let me take care of you." I wasn't sure what he meant entirely, and I didn't ask, because I didn't want to jinx whatever was going on between us. To tell the truth, I kind of liked it.
Chase helped me walk over to Stavros. I wasn't sure exactly what he'd do. Punish me for not wearing the pure silver ring? For letting Mikhail get me for the third time in two days? When we got to him, he just looked at me, and opened his arms. I don't know what I had been expecting exactly, but I'm sure that wasn't it. Still, I let go of Chase and went to Stavros, letting him hug me. Worried much? I believe so. Despite what had just happened, I was really happy that Stavros had been worried about me. It was...nice. People had never worried about me before. With The Legion, if you didn't worry about yourself, then no one would do it for you.
"Thanks, Boss," I said. "For, you know, saving me." Yeah, I'm so not good at this stuff.
"Well, it was not the first time, and knowing you, I am sure it will not be the last."
The sad part is, he was probably right.
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Now, for the sake of all that is holy, keep that damned ring on!"
I don't know why Chase was angry. If anything, I thought he'd be happy that I had been freed from evil Mikhail's clutches. That once again, good (or, at least, less evil) had prevailed over evil. But no, he was shouting at me. Can you believe it? Shouting! Hurriedly I slipped the late Mrs. Kraemer's ring back on, and noticed that the shape of it fit my finger perfectly.
"I don't see why you're so upset," I said. "I mean, I only took it off because I didn't want to ruin it slaying Sal Rigotoni, whom we didn't even get to slay anyway because it was a trap. Then we went straight to Stavros and I couldn't come back to get it, and then we went to Eternity and, well, you know."
Chase sighed, an exasperated sound. "Kayla, I gave you the ring to protect you."
I then said something that had been bothering me. "But what if I had touched you? Chase, the ring is pure silver. Even with it wrapped up, it still hurt you."
His expression softened a little. "I wouldn't have let you touch me while you were wearing it."
I opened my mouth to say, "But what if I wanted to?" but thought better of it.
"What were you going to say?"
"It's nothing, Chase."
"Kayla..."
It was my turn to sigh. "Forget it."
He shrugged. "All right, I will. Goodnight, Kayla." He turned to leave the room.
"Chase?" I called.
He turned back to me. "What is it now?"
I shrugged. "It seems wrong to kick you out of your own bed for the second night in a row."
He laughed. "You are persistent, aren't you?"
"It's one of my charms," I said with a smile.
"Well, you certainly are charming." He peeled his shirt off and threw it to the floor, and then walked to the bed with that animal-like grace that we mere mortals couldn't pull off to save our lives. He flopped down beside me, and I noticed he was still wearing his jeans.
"You're going to sleep in your jeans?"
He shrugged and said, "I figured you'd get offended if I slept naked."
What I thought was, No, not really. What I said was, "Yeah, you're right." I reached over, turned off the lamp, and snuggled under the covers. I could feel Chase, warm and comforting, against my back, so close, yet not touching. It was almost...disappointing. "Goodnight, Chase," I whispered into the darkness.
"Goodnight, Kayla," he whispered back.
That night there were no nightmares, no dreams of any kind. Just warmth and the feeling of being totally, inexplicably safe.
