Ravenous

Chapter 23

"Give me that." Alessandro stormed into the room and wrenched the phone out of Omara's grip, not caring that she was his queen. "That's Holly's voice."

He had heard it from the next room. At the other end of the phone line. Vampire hearing, yes, but it was the sound that mattered most to his cold, dead heart. He would hear it if she called his name from the other side of the continent.

Omara laughed, letting go of the handset one second before it succumbed to their tug-of-war. "I think your little witch hung up. What, could she be jealous?"

Alessandro put the phone to his ear, but there was only a dial tone. He slammed the handset down, imagining Holly in her kitchen, staring at her own phone and thinking the worst of him.

After his visit to Sinsation, he had thought he and Holly had a measure of hope on their side. Now he could see there was a dark force working against even the smallest spark of sanity, and her name was Omara. An anger close to nausea rolled through his gut. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what? The phone rang; I picked it up. I was merely being courteous."

He flipped clammy hair out of his eyes. He had been drying off from the shower, and now wore only a pair of sweat-pants. "You don't merely do anything. You do nothing without cause."

Omara stared up from where she lay between his bed-sheets, mischief in her honey-colored eyes. She propped her head up, supporting herself on one elbow. "You know, you're a grouch first thing. Very entertaining."

Alessandro rubbed his face, wishing he could think faster. He conceded the point about his mood. A tangle of dark thoughts dragged at him, and his back hurt from sleeping on the couch. Immortality didn't preclude the need for a decent mattress. "I'll call her back."

"First I need to go back to the hotel." Omara sat up, the teasing over. "It's time to convene a council of the local leaders—the packs, the fey courts, the crows, whoever can be counted on to stand with us. Moving against the demon now may expose my vulnerabilities, but we cannot wait any longer to form a plan of action."

"Are you sure?"

"I cannot put my safety before the safety of an entire city. Even I am not that selfish."

The words were bold, but she looked small and vulnerable alone in his king-sized bed. She was drowning in one of his T-shirts, her slight figure lost beneath folds of gray cotton. Last night she had come to Alessandro for safety, slept under his roof—a vampire had no choice but to sleep in the daytime—but she had slept alone.

They had not felt the pull of the Desire. As he stood there looking at Omara now, he admired her courage, but the urge to touch her remained utterly dead. She saved me from a life of complete loneliness. She gave me a place in society when I lost my clan. She made me her champion. I owe it to her to fight at her side.

But sex—he wasn't so naive to believe it ever had been love—wasn't part of the bargain anymore. The queen held his fealty, but he loved Holly. The centuries-old on and off Desire between the queen and her champion was finished. Alessandro felt a door shutting on a part of his long life. He felt no real sense of regret, just an urge to move forward.

Which meant resolving a host of problems. The first was to get a half-naked vampire queen out of his bed. "Is it safe to go back to the hotel?"

"I don't know, but I need fresh clothes. I wasn't thinking about my wardrobe when I left."

Last night she had caught a cab to Alessandro's house, made herself at home, and waited for him to return from Sinsation. She had a key and the alarm codes to the house of every important member of her court. By vampire law they had to offer her sanctuary from the debilitating sun.

Omara went on. "The only thing I did was phone my security team to say I would not be back last night."

"Do they know where you are?"

"No. I don't trust them. Rather, I don't trust them to be stronger than Geneva." Omara's eyes grew dark. "She was waiting in the lobby, idling by the hotel doors. How did she know where I was?"

"The news of your arrival in town is hardly a secret. If I'm right, Geneva has been walking the streets for at least two days. Finding your location would have been simple."

"To what end? To challenge me now that I'm at a disadvantage? Does she know I no longer have The Book of Lies?" Omara pulled the covers closer, as if she meant to burrow under them. "She must. Whoever called her may well have used the spells on its pages."

"You are sure she didn't see you?"

The question seemed to steady Omara. "The moment I spotted her I went back into the elevator and left through the underground parking garage. I don't think she saw me."

Alessandro sat on the edge of the bed. "All right. Geneva is your enemy. You defeated her in a battle in Fairview in the 1880s. I wasn't there. Before we confront her, what else do I need to know about what happened?"

Omara hugged her knees, her cinnamon skin dark against the white sheets. "Our conflict was an old one. It began as a battle for hunting territory, but it escalated into a feud. Geneva loves destruction, the waste and evil of it. I finally trapped her here, at the edge of the ocean. She had run out of places to hide, but she made the town pay for her defeat in blood and fire."

"But you won. The victory assured your status as queen."

Omara nodded. "I stole The Book of Lies from Geneva and used it to shut her in the Castle. I believe that, more than anything, is the reason she would have her revenge. She wants to punish me in the same town where I wronged her. You know demons. They adore symbolism. She'll re-create the battle, but she'll win it this time."

They were back on well-trodden ground. "Which is why you want Holly's help, even if it might kill her."

Omara held his gaze for a long moment, and finally nodded. "I've been trying to think of another solution, but I can't. You see, she closed down the Flanders house, and from your description I'm sure that was a partial portal. Your Holly has the same natural abilities as her ancestor, even if she's not got full use of her powers."

My Holly. "But you don't have the book anymore."

"Someone is opening portals. I think we'll find the book right here in town and in the hands of your summoner."

"You overlook an important angle." Alessandro pointed to the phone. "I don't know if Holly's going to be willing to help now that she thinks you were in my bed."

"But I was." Omara shrugged. "Which is significant only if she expects exclusive rights to your affections. Have you finally had a taste of her?"

"No."

"Is that so?" She ran a finger down his chin. "You smelled of her last night."

"We were together."

Omara snatched her hand away and sat up straighten Alessandro sensed the first breath of a storm. "Together in the fleshly sense?"

He was too tired to lie. "Yes."

"Have you had her before?"

"No."

Her brows drew together. "You slept with her but you did not bite her?"

"Yes."

"That's impossible!"

Alessandro said nothing. It was impossible, and yet it had happened.

She leaned forward, the outline of her breasts briefly visible beneath the borrowed T-shirt. "Have you had anyone to eat since?"

"No."

Omara seemed to collapse, turning her face away. She ran a hand through her long dark hair and muttered something in a language he did not know.

"What of it?" he asked.

She pulled a pillow into her lap, hugging it. "Even I thought it was nothing but a legend."

"What?"

She lifted her head. The fine muscles around her eyes were tight with hurt and anger. "She's Chosen you!"

"What?" He stood up, taking a step back from the bed. "No, she didn't!"

"That's the only way that could have happened!"

Alessandro felt the thump of his heart. A long moment of surprise left him almost disembodied with shock. "Not possible."

"How else could you have a woman without taking her blood?"

"No."

A ruddy flush of emotion blotched her cheeks. "We're not wired any other way."

He felt as if he were standing beside his own body, looking on. "Give me some credit for self-control."

"Idiot!" She slammed the pillow aside. "See what is in front of you!"

"Fables are for fledglings." Alessandro slumped against the wall, his studied ease hiding the tremors racing through him. But what if it was possible? Something that could happen in the future? What then?

"Humans thought vampires were myths. That didn't make us vanish."

"I have lived for six centuries. I would know if I were released from this course."

Eyes narrowing, Omara raised her chin and sniffed the air. "Well, you smell the same, I'll give you that. You don't feel any different? Maybe it just takes time to take effect."

"No. And I nearly took her blood afterward. I was ravenous. The fact that I did not was an aberration. An act of willpower. Nothing more."

Omara considered, her color slowly returning to normal. "What if she did Choose you? Why you? Why you? And a witch? With you at her side, her powers could draw on your immortality. She would live forever. With access to her magic you could rule us all." Omara shook her head. "And you've never even wanted to be king."

Alessandro gave a short laugh. "I'm a just musician from Florence."

"Yeah, you're such a regular guy." She said the words with venom. "The irony is, that's probably why she loves you. After all this time you act as if you're still half-human."

Alessandro winced, any glimmer of joy dying beneath her rage. "Let's see if Holly still likes me after finding you at my number. I might be un-Chosen."

"Don't joke about it."

He swore, suddenly furious. "It never happened. It's just a legend. Honestly, I got lucky."

Omara raised her hands in surrender. "She got lucky. You left her free from your control, more than I would have done. If that's all it was, then so be it. I will say no more."

"That's all it was. Holly did not choose me. No miracle could persevere in this toxic world."

Omara threw off the covers and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Alessandro's bed was high, and her bare feet did not quite touch the carpet. Reaching up, she took his hand.

"So, if we are not talking about your salvation, what are we talking about?" She gave an expressive head tilt. "Oh, yes, you betrayed me in the bed of another, and you didn't justify the act by feeding. Should I resent that?"

Alessandro relaxed as the tension in the room shifted. This version of the queen's jealousy was predictable. "You wanted to secure her aid. In fact, I seem to remember you recommending seduction."

She bent her head and kissed his palm. Her lips were soft, the dart of her tongue warm and wet as blood. "I'll hate you later, once I know that Geneva is gone, and that we'll all live long enough to make hating worthwhile. Maybe you'll convince me to love you again."

"You know that I will always serve you." In all ways except one.

"Good boy." She gave a slow smile. "In the meantime, find out what the little witch wanted. We need her."

The little witch wanted to kill—perhaps herself, perhaps Alessandro. Definitely whoever had answered the phone.

It might mean nothing. Be mature.

Oh, like hell. He left me without a word and wound up in bed with someone else. Someone he could bite. Someone who would willingly give him what he needed.

What did you expect? She had practically begged Alessandro to let them be together just that once. He'd kept his part of the bargain, and he'd done so without harming her. What more could she ask? In the meantime she had a life to save: hers. That had to take top priority, even if she was breaking to pieces with loss.

Furious, Holly rummaged through the living room, pulling reference books off the shelves. One by one, she read the chapter titles and tossed them aside. Grandma had loaned her a couple of books on demonology, but she knew there were others in the house. However, she couldn't find any of the volumes she remembered. She'd gone through her collection before, right after her visit from Sweetie, with equally disappointing results.

Before that, the last time she'd looked for them was… well, she never had. They were there when she was a kid, old and musty and full of woodcuts of ugly demon faces. All her life they had been part of her landscape. Now they were gone. She stormed into the den to repeat the shelf-tossing process. Kibs scampered out of her way, wriggling to safety under the couch.

She gave up. She'd already phoned Grandma, but Grandma was out, probably taking a break from demon lore.

She left a message. Crap. She couldn't sit still. What else could she try? Then a random memory bobbed to the surface.

Alessandro had said Perry Baker was a competent sorcerer. It was a long shot, but he might know something about antidemon first aid, or know someone local who did. She dug out his office number and dialed. It wasn't during his office hours, but it was worth a try.

"Perry Baker." His voice had the distant quality of someone on a speakerphone. She could hear the tapping of a keyboard. Multitasking.

"It's Holly Carver. Do you know much about demons?"

There was a static-filled pause as he picked up the handset. "Come again?"

"I'm in your Monday-night class."

"I know, I know." She heard the rush of his breath against the mouthpiece. "About the demons?"

"Soul suckers. I need info. Fast. I had one over for lunch. He tried to make me an after-dinner mint."

"No shit?" Papers rattled, the sound of hasty shuffling. "Okay, urn, are you able to come down to my office?"

"Sure. When?"

"Now. Right away. I'll wait. Just get here."

Perry Baker's office was upstairs in the same building where he taught. It was easy to find. It was the only door that campus security had stenciled with a warning sign emblazoned with a wolf. The door was ajar.

Perry sat at a desk heaped with papers, his face lit by a monitor screen. Food cartons from Wily Wolf Specialty Deli filled the garbage can, while a dozen high-caffeine pop cans lined the windowsill in a carefully constructed tower. A bright yellow pennant was thumbtacked to the wall behind him, cheerfully proclaiming Fairview University and Community College's alternative slogan, "FUCC U!"

"Hey," Perry said, standing. "I'm glad you were able to come so fast."

"Thanks for seeing me."

With a wave of his hand he directed her to a ratty visitor's chair. "Sorry," he said. "First-time profs get all the hand-me-downs."

Holly sat, feeling the chair sag under her. The tiny office was hot from the numerous CPUs in operation, and she began to unzip her coat. Relief at finally having someone to talk to warred with a general sense of confusion. "I'm not sure where to begin. There's so much going on, and what happened this afternoon is just part of it."

Perry sat and leaned forward on the desk, playing with a pen. His bare forearms were corded with muscle—lean, not skinny. He studied her, his dark blue eyes serious behind his glasses. "My dad's, um, pack leader. I've probably heard part of this already."

Holly fumbled for a thought, any coherent idea to launch with. "I have this cop friend. I think he infected me with demon cooties."

Perry set the pen down. "Yeah? How did that happen?"

"I think the changelings called up a demon."

Perry sat forward again. "They did it?"

"In the graveyard. I went there today and found the remains of a ritual." Holly fished in her coat pocket. "I found this."

She put the metal object she'd found on the desk. Perry picked it up. "Wow. I've never seen a real one of these. It's an Orpheus token."

"What's it for?"

"The tokens are a vampire thing, but the myth is universal. My people revere Orpheus for his power to calm the wild beasts. There's an obvious appeal there for werebeasts." He met her eyes for a moment, as if monitoring her reaction. "Vampires focus on the other part of his story. Orpheus brought the shade of his wife, Eurydice, out of the halls of death. They believe true love can free a vampire from the need to live on blood. They call it the myth of the Chosen. Some believe they can even have children."

Holly's skin tingled. She knew stranger things were possible. I love him, but he left my bed for someone else. That's not true love.

Perry went on. "As for these tokens, vampires sometimes leave them with their kills. It's a good-luck charm to guide the soul of their victim into death. Belonged to one of the changelings, maybe?"

"Lovely. I wonder if the tokens were part of the ritual because they represented a body count."

"Maybe. I've heard rumors that the police found these with the dead women on campus."

Holly thought of the night she had gone over all this with Alessandro and Mac—the night Mac had fallen ill. "Blood is sometimes used as part of a summoning."

"Tricky stuff. I wouldn't think anyone but a trained sorcerer could pull it off. You'd need a proper spell."

She remembered the figure with the book. Then she remembered that Perry was a sorcerer himself. Did I come to exactly the wrong person? Fear crawled over her arms. "Someone helped them. Who likes the changelings or hates the vampires enough to do that?"

Perry watched her, as if he could sense her anxiety. "Nobody likes changelings."

"Then who hates vampires enough to call up a demon?"

Perry sighed. "The only people I can think of are all human. No one else would be that stupid. Demons… you just don't mess with them."

"Macmillan?" Holly said aloud, but even as she spoke, another dreadful idea was forming. One she wasn't ready to accept.

"Who's Macmillan?"

"The cop with the demon cooties."

Perry frowned. "What about those cooties? What exactly happened? You don't catch demon germs from casual contact, you know."

Holly hesitated, realizing she'd been talking around the problem out of fear. "Mac kissed me. I think he's been Turned into a demon. He said something about the Dark Larceny."

Turning pale, Perry picked up the phone with a convulsive grab.

The sudden motion made Holly start. "Who are you calling?"

"The Dark Larceny? I don't mean to frighten you, but this is serious. There's only one person I can think of who's got the books and stuff to deal with that."

"Who?"

"Hey, Alessandro. It's Perry. Yeah, I've got your friend Holly in my office. Do you know where we can find Queen Omara?"