The Dead, the Damned, and the Forgotten Page 2

  An easy silence settled between us as I contemplated our dead friend and his potential attacker. Knox stood nearby, ready to offer up information. He was careful to look anywhere but at the half-burned, beheaded corpse. “Did you ever do this with my maker?” Knox softly asked, fiddling with his sunglasses.

  “What? Look at corpses with Valerio?” I asked, my brow furrowed at the unexpected question. “All the time. It was how we spent most of our nights.”

  “Ha. Ha,” he said, rolling his eyes at my sarcasm. “I can imagine how you spent most of your nights. But you know what I mean. He said you and he investigated strange things for the Coven back when you were in Europe?”

  A smile drifted across my lips before I could stop it. I had too many good memories of Valerio, but that didn’t mean I was willing to share. Some were too embarrassing or too gruesome. And others were simply too private. My time with Valerio wasn’t always filled with happy memories and I was frequently horrified by some of the things we did, but I would never trade the moments I had with Knox’s maker.

  “Yes, Valerio and I frequently looked into a strange death or a corpse that needed our unique attention to keep the secret protected. During that time, we never found a fledgling that could kill during the day.” I smiled at my companion for lightening the mood and shook my head. How had Valerio ever stood to part with this child? I was becoming far too attached to him.

  “Is there anything else I should know about our dead friend?” I asked, resting my hands on the edge of the stainless steel table next to Bryce.

  “The only other thing I can think of is that about six months ago he petitioned you to allow him to bring over his lover,” Knox added.

  My head snapped up at this bit of information. “I’m assuming that I said no.”

  “You denied the request,” Knox confirmed. His brow furrowed slightly as he turned over my sudden interest. “You think she had something to do with this?”

  “I’m hoping such a thing is impossible since her memory was wiped,” I said in a hard, cold voice.

  “It was.”

  “Did our headless friend tell you that or did you check for yourself?”

  “I checked. There were no memories of Bryce or nightwalkers in her brain,” he replied.

  Biting down on my lower lip, I stared down at the blackened remains of Bryce, still wondering if his would-be fledgling had found a way to murder him because he had refused to make her into a nightwalker. Though equally unlikely, there were still a number of ways she might have been involved in Bryce’s death.

  “Is she a magic user?”

  “The woman?” Knox’s perpetually even, dry tone jumped several octaves. “I don’t think so.”

  “If she is, she may have been able to hide her memories from you.”

  Knox’s whole body stiffened at my comment while his expression went completely blank. “Do you honestly think Valerio didn’t show me how to pick apart the mind of a magic user?” he demanded in a brittle voice.

  A ghost of a smile flitted across my face at Valerio’s name on his tongue. “Would it have occurred to you that she might be?” I countered, but quickly waved my hand at him. “I don’t doubt your ability and I think it’s highly unlikely the woman is a magic user. However, I find it strange that six months ago he was denied the right to make a vampire and now he’s dead using a very human form of execution.”

  “Could have been a nightwalker,” Knox suggested, putting his sunglasses back on again.

  “Maybe,” I whispered. Had Justin not approved of Bryce’s request to create a fledgling and decided to act against the nightwalker in some fashion? The time issue still needed to be confirmed. “We won’t know until we get to Bryce’s place.”

  “We?”

  “Of course! You think I would leave you out of the fun of ransacking a murdered vampire’s lair for clues as to his killer? Not a chance.” My outrageous teasing left a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Besides, there will be plenty of time for you to track down the woman and anyone known to associate with Bryce,” I continued, crushing the smile before it could actually form.

  “You’re too kind, Mira,” Knox sneered. He took a step backward as I placed Bryce’s head on his stomach. I then picked up the dead nightwalker and carried him over to the oven. Setting the nightwalker inside, I closed the door and summoned up my powers. Within seconds, the body was consumed with flames hotter than any that could be produced by the crematorium. The remains were reduced to ash. Bryce was no more.

  As I looked up at Knox, a cold grin stretched across my lips. “You have no idea how kind I can be.” I was the Fire Starter, scourge of our people. The protector of our secret. Kindness was all relative.

  Chapter 2

  A crunch of gravel was my only warning as we walked across the parking lot of the morgue to my car. I hadn’t scanned the area for other nightwalkers. This was my domain, and no one would dare to attack me in my own domain. I was wrong. Pain exploded in my ribs just before my body slammed into the side panel of a dark blue station wagon, denting the metal and breaking two of my ribs. With a snarl, my head snapped up to see who attacked me. Knox was squared off against a dark-haired nightwalker in leather pants and a black T-shirt. Other than his porcelain white skin, he looked as if he was a part of the night itself.

  “Stand down, Knox,” I ordered, pushing back to my feet. My body protested the movement as my ribs attempted to mend.

  “Mira?” Knox paused in his circling of the other nightwalker, but his brown eyes still glowed; he was ready to attack if I said the word.

  “This is my fight,” I stated, taking a step toward the nightwalker. “It’s been a long time, Bishop. I don’t remember inviting you into my domain.”

  The nightwalker smiled, but had yet to take his gaze off Knox. Bishop was nearly five centuries old and a very skilled fighter, making him one of the most valued servants of Macaire. The Coven Elder wouldn’t dispatch Bishop without a very good reason.

  “As an emissary of Macaire, I go where I wish,” he announced. He sidestepped to his left so that he could look at both me and Knox at the same time. Unfortunately, Knox still stood between us. Bishop might be here on business with me, but he would have no qualms over ripping through Knox just for the fun of it.

  “Knox, go inside and see if there is anything else that Archie needs to complete his paperwork,” I commanded, but Knox didn’t move. If anything, he seemed to sidle slightly in front of me.

  “Not a chance. I’m not leaving you out here alone with this guy,” Knox said.

  “No wonder I’m here. Your people won’t even listen to you,” Bishop mocked, straightening from his defensive stance.

  “Go, Knox. I know him. We have some business to settle,” I said, pushing the words past clenched teeth. Normally, Knox’s loyalty and readiness to protect me at all times would be flattering, but not now, not in front of a member of the Coven’s court.

  Knox hesitated a moment before finally edging around Bishop and heading back into the morgue where he would make sure that no one came out to the parking lot while Bishop and I discussed whatever business had brought him into my domain.

  We both waited until we heard the door to the morgue slam shut before we were in motion. My nails raked across his chest, tearing his shirt and leaving four ragged cuts across his skin. He backhanded me, throwing me into the side of another car. Pain spread across my face, leaving me with the feeling that he had broken my cheekbone. With a growl, I pushed away from the car and launched myself at him. Ducking his swinging fists, I landed a punch to his gut that broke a rib or two before he managed to grab my throat with his right hand. He squeezed, effectively closing off my airway. I didn’t need to breathe, but from this position he could quickly rip my head off, ending this contest.

  I grinned at him, my eyes glowing an eerie shade of purple as in nightshade. Around us, a circle of fire sprang up from the ground, closing in so that there was barely a foot of open space between us and t
he crackling flames.

  Bishop pulled me close to him so that the tip of my nose touched his. There was no escaping his hard, black gaze. There was no light, no glow of power, just a black empty pit as if his power were bottomless. “Do it, Mira!” Bishop whispered. “Incinerate me. I swear you’ll awaken tomorrow night back in the hands of the Coven in Venice, and this time Jabari will not be there to save you.”

  A shiver ran through me at his cold words. The Coven was the ruling body of the nightwalker nation, and it was an ugly place of pain and nightmares. It was a place I had escaped centuries ago and rarely visited, particularly since Jabari, one of the four Elders, had gone missing.

  Bishop’s grip on my throat loosened slightly so I could talk. “What do you want?” I asked in a ragged whisper.

  “Besides the opportunity to rip your head off?” he asked with a dark grin that revealed his perfect white fangs. “I’m here to make sure that you clean up the mess that is currently your domain.”

  “What mess?” I demanded. I reached up and dug my nails into his large hand, trying to get him to release my throat.

  “You’re joking, right?” he said, dropping me. “We’ve heard from people within your domain. There is no order here.”

  “That’s a lie.”

  “There has been an increase in Daylight Coalition–related deaths within the New World, recently,” he continued to list.

  “It’s not my job to police all of the New World,” I quickly countered.

  “And now you have a fresh death found by the humans. From what I’ve heard, it looks like another Coalition kill. Can you not even protect your own?”

  “I’m looking into the matter,” I growled. I had nothing that I could say about Bryce’s death. I didn’t know the why behind it all just yet, but I would with time.

  “I’m here to make sure that you clean up this mess and deal with the nightwalkers within your domain,” Bishop said, taking a step closer to me as I stepped backward. With a thought, the flames were gone and the parking lot was plunged back into darkness.

  “Other than the matter with the fresh body, there’s no mess here.”

  “The Coven doesn’t believe that to be true.”

  “You mean Macaire doesn’t believe it. Who’s been talking to him?”

  “Now that would be telling,” he said, a fresh grin lifting his thin lips. “Convince me that you have everything under control here, and I will leave along with everyone else that I brought with me. Fail and you’ll be coming back to Venice with me.”

  A fresh stab of fear shot through me, seeming to pierce down to the bone, and it was nearly a minute before I could speak again. “What do you want me to do?” I found myself asking in a shaky voice. I wouldn’t go back to the Coven. I couldn’t. The place was a nightmare of death and endless screams that echoed through your brain even in your sleep.

  “Catch the killer. Settle the chaos within your domain,” he said, making it sound so simple. And for him, it was. He was simply waiting around for an excuse to drag me back to Venice. That was his job.

  “Fine,” I reluctantly agreed. “Just stay out of my way. This is still my domain and I will handle this mess.”

  “As you wish,” he said with a slight bow of his head. With a parting grin, mocking me one last time, Bishop strolled out of the parking lot, heading back for the main street.

  I sat down on the ground against one of the cars I had crashed into earlier. Resting my elbows on my bent knees, I dropped my head into my hands. Damn it. A flunky of the Coven was dangling a sword just above my neck, simply waiting for an excuse to chop my head off. My hands were trembling and my stomach was twisting into knots as I sat there, mentally listing every nightwalker I knew of within my territory. Who could it be that was talking to the Coven? Someone was betraying me, betraying my trust and my protection.

  Knox . . . I called out mentally for my companion. Less than a minute later he was kneeling at my side.

  He rested his hand on the back of my head while the other was on my knee. “What happened? Are you all right? Who was that?”

  “Someone from the Coven. We’re being watched. We need to clean up this mess quickly before it becomes an even bigger problem.”

  “How did they find out so fast about Bryce? He was killed this morning.”

  “I don’t think Bishop is here because of Bryce. I think the timing just ended up being convenient for whoever has the Coven’s ear,” I said, lifting my head so that I could look at Knox. “We need to get going. We’re officially running short on time.”

  Chapter 3

  According to Daniel’s information, Bryce was found in a house out past Bonaventure Cemetery, not far from Wilmington Island. Knox and I jumped into my little silver BMW Z4 and zipped out of the city like a mercury tear sliding down a clown’s cheek. The convertible top was down and we shoved our baseball caps in the center console area between our seats so we could enjoy the feel of the warm summer air rubbing against our faces and tangling our hair. The night was alive, pulsing and squirming, demanding to be noticed.

  Yet it wasn’t the fact that Bryce had been murdered that had us both unnerved. It was the fact that someone had contacted the police regarding the corpse, potentially looking to expose us. It was the fact that the body had been found in the middle of the living room. No nightwalker was stupid enough to sleep out in the open, even when in the safety of his own lair. It was the way Bryce had been killed—by the old mythological methods, head and heart removed.

  The whole thing stank of the Daylight Coalition and yet I felt confident that no branch members resided within my domain. The Daylight Coalition was an all-human organization that believed in the existence of vampires and other supernatural creatures. They saw it as their duty to hunt us all down. Their aim wasn’t too good, however, considering they had killed as many humans as they had nightwalkers. The rest of the human world thought they were a bunch of crackpots who had watched Van Helsing one too many times. I tended to agree.

  I downshifted the car into second as I turned onto Bryce’s street. The houses were spaced relatively far apart, with large yards filled with massive honeysuckle bushes and white jasmine. The air was thick with the rich scent of flowers and damp earth. Across the street from the two-story, redbrick house, I parked the car and turned off the engine. Using my powers, I briefly scanned the region. There were only a few nightwalkers in the area, and one of them was Bishop. I suspected he was going to be my shadow until this little investigation was finally concluded.

  Another was standing just at the end of the block. Her name was Heather, and she was also a member of the Ravana family. Word traveled fast among telepaths. Without my needing to say a word, most of the city nightwalkers knew that a vampire had been murdered. In general, they were willing to give me a wide berth so I could investigate the matter, but I had been expecting someone from the Ravana family. Bryce’s death was their business.

  I hesitated, my right hand still clutching the key in the ignition. Something felt off. We sat in the car, waiting for the brunette to finally reach us. She stood in the street a few feet away from where I sat in the car. She looked lost and afraid, with her right hand gripping her left elbow.

  “Do you know if he had anyone else staying with him in the house?” I asked.

  “No one on a permanent basis,” she said shaking her head, sending her long brown hair down around her face. “I think he had nightwalkers that stayed for brief periods of time here and there, but nothing permanent.”

  I was willing to guess that Bryce was one of the few within the Ravana family that was permitted to keep a residence outside the main family home. Justin believed in spreading out his clan throughout the city so that his influence could be felt everywhere. Older, trusted members were allowed their own homes as long as they checked in on a regular basis. This wasn’t an original idea within the nightwalker world, just rare.

  I listened into the thoughts of all the humans with a one-block radius, but they we
re all consumed with their own problems—bills, sickness, doubt. No one was thinking of the body that was taken out of the lonely redbrick house. Even all the lycanthropes had left this section of the city. I had a feeling I had Barrett Rainer, Alpha of the Savannah Pack, to thank for the extra space.

  Sitting in the car for another minute, we all stared across the street at the dark house. The feeling of foreboding was irrational. I was unnerved by the way Bryce was killed and I was afraid of what I would find inside. We were all completely helpless during the daylight hours; unable to awaken, unable to defend ourselves. That was our greatest fear—to go to sleep one morning and not awaken the next night.

  “Let’s get this done,” I announced gruffly, jerking the key from the ignition with a soft jingle. We both alighted from the tiny car and crossed the street in silence. There was only the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the trees and a distant wind chime singing a forlorn melody. The air was still hot and heavy even after nightfall.

  “Why would someone kill Bryce?” Heather softly asked, walking a couple steps behind me.

  “Who and why are the questions we’re trying to answer,” I said a bit irritably. Stopping short, I spun around on my right heel to face the young fledgling. “Why did Justin send you here?”

  “He . . . I . . . he said I was to help you in any way I could. Bryce was part of the family. Justin cares about us,” she replied in an almost mechanical manner.

  I snorted and turned back toward the house. She had been sent to spy on me and report back to Justin.

  “You go in through the back and search the second floor,” I said, looking over at Knox as we walked up the sidewalk and past a pair of stone urns overflowing with what appeared to be a fuchsia plant. “I’ll go in through the front door and search the first floor.”

  “Anything in particular I’m looking for?”