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Chapter 5
O
n the fifth floor of Roman's townhouse, Angus dropped the sack of stakes on the desk with a noisy clatter. He'd teleported to Roman's Upper East Side home so many times over the years, he no longer needed a sensory beacon. The journey was embedded in his psychic memory. He had merely closed his eyes, concentrated, and he was there. Even so, he lifted his kilt to make sure he'd arrived intact.
Bugger. He was still swollen. What the hell was wrong with him? It was one thing to lust after a mortal, but to desire one who wanted to kill him? Roman would have a field day analyzing that. Over the centuries, Angus had come to rely on the former monk for advice and counseling. Roman would probably announce that good ole Angus was suffering from some sort of middle-aged crisis, trying to prove his youth and vigor by seducing a beautiful mortal young enough to be his great, great, great, great granddaughter. Come to think of it, that was probably not enough greats.
He was being a fool. All he had to do was talk to her. Convince her to quit slaying. Getting her to like him wasn't on the agenda. She would never like him. Why torture himself by longing for the impossible?
"Och, 'tis you." Ian spoke behind him.
Angus quickly dropped his kilt and turned to greet Ian. "I've just returned."
Ian nodded, his gaze dropping to Angus's lopsided sporran. "I thought I heard some noise up here." His gaze shifted to the sack of stakes on the desk.
Angus removed his pewter flask from his sporran, using the opportunity to straighten the leather bag. "I was just about to refill my flask. Would ye like a wee dram?"
"Aye. Thank ye for offering. Most Vamps would not."
Angus headed toward the mini-bar. "Why wouldn't I?"
Ian snorted. "Roman's ex-harem opened a racy vampire club, and the damned bouncer there says I'm too young to go in."
"Ridiculous." Angus located his bottle of Blissky and unscrewed the top. "Ye're almost as old as I am."
"No one believes it."
Angus glanced at his old friend with the smooth, youthful face. He'd found Ian fatally wounded on the battlefield of Solway Moss in 1542, and he'd transformed him there in the dark, amidst the groans of dying soldiers. What else could he have done? Leave a fifteen-year-old to die? At the time, it had seemed a terrible, tragic waste of youth, and Angus had thought he was doing the young soldier a great favor. But he had trapped Ian for all eternity with the face of a boy.
Angus sighed as he poured himself and Ian a glass. It just went to show him. Interfering with mortals was always messy and tainted with regret. He should never allow himself any sort of feelings for Emma Wallace.
"So, I take it ye found the slayer?" Ian peeked into the sack on the desk. "Are these her stakes?"
"Aye." Angus refilled his flask with Blissky. Bugger. His bottle was almost empty. "She tried to use a few of them on me."
"Really?" Ian's eyes widened. "Are ye all right?"
"Aye, I'm fine." Angus carried the two glasses back to the desk and offered one to Ian. "But I'm having trouble convincing her I'm a nice guy."
Ian laughed. "Why am I no' surprised? Ye do have a fierce look about ye. Maybe I should talk to her." His grin faded. "No one ever thinks I'm scary."
Angus patted him on the back. "They fear ye on the battlefield." He downed his glass and winced. Bloody strong stuff. But it would take the edge off his hunger for blood. And his lust for Emma Wallace.
He upended the bag and dumped some of Emma's stakes on the desk. He picked one up and read the word Mum.
Ian grimaced. "Nasty things. They look verra sharp."
"Aye, they can kill us." Angus picked up another stake. Dad. Bugger. No wonder she hated vampires so much.
Ian motioned to the computer. "There are some e-mails waiting for ye in the inbox. From Mikhail in Moscow."
"Och, good." Angus circled the desk and sat in front of the computer. He'd downloaded Emma's personnel file the night before. He'd learned a lot of interesting information, most importantly that her parents had been murdered in Moscow six years earlier. He had e-mailed his Russian operative for more information.
Given the time difference, Mikhail would now be in his death-sleep, but he'd e-mailed earlier to report on his findings. He had teleported into the police station in the middle of the night and copied the report on file. He'd attached the report. The first attachment was the report in Russian; the second one, Mikhail's translation of it into English.
Mikhail had done a thorough job. He'd sent a second e-mail an hour later that included a translation of the coroner's report and a copy of the crime scene photo. According to the coroner, both victims had suffered slashed throats and all their blood was missing.
Angus studied the photo. No pools of blood under the victims, so they hadn't bled out where they were found. The police must have assumed the bodies had been moved.
It was a typical vampire cover-up. Cut a throat so the fang marks no longer showed. The police had concluded the mafia was responsible, and that's what they would have told Emma.
Somehow, she knew the truth. The fierce love she'd felt for her parents had transformed into a fierce hatred of vampires. Like himself. Angus sighed.
"This is strange." Ian sipped from his drink as he rummaged through the pile of stakes. "They're all labeled Mum or Dad."
"Her parents were murdered by vampires."
"Och, that explains her slaying."
"Aye, but I doona know how she figured it out. The Russians told her the mafia was responsible. Why would she suspect vampires? How would she even know we existed?"
Ian shrugged. "Maybe she witnessed the attack."
Angus shook his head. "They would have never let her survive." He double clicked on her personnel file to open it, then skimmed through it. "She was in Edinburgh when the attack took place."
Ian leaned against the desk. "But she's psychic, no?"
Angus glanced up from the report. "Ye may be on to something." Had she somehow witnessed her parents' murder in her mind? It would certainly explain her rage and need for revenge.
"Did ye convince her to stop?" Ian asked.
"No' yet. She's verra stubborn."
"Well, she is Scottish."
Angus smiled. "Aye. She's a fierce fighter, too."
"Gregori says she's hot."
His smile faded. "Gregori will be lucky if he lives another week."
Ian's mouth twitched. "He complained to Roman about you."
Angus shrugged and started typing an e-mail to Mikhail.
Your next assignment: Locate the vampires who murdered Emma Wallace's parents.
It might be an impossible request, but Mikhail would give it his best shot. Angus clicked on Send, then noticed Ian was still hovering by the desk. "Anything else?"
"Aye. Roman wants to see you. Shanna, too. She says it's been six months since yer last checkup."
Angus shook his head, smiling. Was there anything Roman wouldn't do for his wife? The man was so besotted, he'd actually opened a dental clinic at Romatech so Shanna could continue her profession in a safe place. Most Vamps had been a bit wary of having a mortal poking around their mouths, so Angus had been the first in line to show his support. Then he'd quietly suggested all his employees get a checkup. Anything to help Roman. The monk had saved Angus's life and given him a reason to live. Angus wanted his old friend to be happy, but he couldn't understand how marriage to a mortal could ever work.
Mortals were so short-lived. So emotional. Their wounds were all recent and raw, whereas a Vamp had the luxury of centuries to cushion the blows.
Emma Wallace was the perfect example. Her whole life was focused on a passionate quest for revenge. But her life was so short. She should be enjoying it, not squandering it away on some creatures that would still be here a hundred years from now. He really needed to get through to her. And take away the rest of her stakes. He located her profile sheet from the Stake-Out folder and found her address and phone number.
"Hello?" Ian waved a hand to get Angus's attention. "Roman is waiting for you. He's at Romatech with Shanna."
"No' tonight." The fastest way to Emma's apartment would be to call her and use her voice to teleport. But would she be there after his silly remark about wearing something sexy?
"All right," Ian conceded. "I'll tell him ye're joining us tomorrow night for Mass."
"For what?" Angus scowled at having his attention drawn away from the problem at hand. "Mass?"
"Aye. Father Andrew does a Mass for us Sunday nights at eleven. Roman had a room made into a chapel at Romatech. Then Shanna had the bright idea of offering free Fusion Cuisine afterward. We have about thirty Vamps showing up now."
Angus scoffed. "I doona need a priest praying for me. Unlike Roman, I'm verra happy being a vampire."
"So ye have no regrets?"
Angus shrugged. Every life had regrets, and his life had been longer than most. "I've always done what I thought was right at the time." And prayed that others didn't suffer for it. He glanced at Ian's permantly youthful face and winced inwardly. "I have made... mistakes."
"Then we'll see ye tomorrow."
Angus sighed. "Tell Roman I'll see him sometime tomorrow. I canna say when. I need to see Emma every night until I can convince her to stop her slaying."
"Connor thinks we should help, that ye shouldna handle this on yer own."
"He's wrong," Angus gritted the words out between clenched teeth while he glared at Ian.
"Right." Ian's innocent blue eyes widened. "Ye're the boss." He backed away toward the door. "Roman's going to want to know why ye canna come tonight."
Angus scowled at Emma's address on the profile sheet. "She has more stakes in her apartment."
"Ye're invading her home? Alone? She'll put up a hell of a fight, for certain. Let me come with you."
"Nay. I can handle her."
"She's murdered four vampires that we know of."
Angus stood. "I said I can handle her."
Ian hesitated, his hand on the doorknob. "Ye're no' immortal, Angus. None of us are."
Angus softened the scowl on his face. "I know. I'll be fine, lad. I'll see you when I get back."
Ian nodded. "All right." He left the room, calling back over his shoulder. "At least ye'll have the element of surprise."
Angus winced. No, he didn't. What a fool he was. And what a clever and feisty lass she was. She would probably have another trap ready for him. Blood rushed to his groin in anticipation. God help him, he was out of his mind.
Katya Miniskaya smiled politely as one of her Russian coven members entered her office. It was Boris, one of the whiners. Alek had informed her two months ago that Boris was complaining about her behind her back. Apparently he was upset that two of his whiny friends had suffered unfortunate, fatal accidents in her office.
She motioned to the chair in front of her desk. "How may I help you?"
His eyes lingered on her lace camisole too long before he sat. "Alek says you're offering a reward to whoever killed those mortals in Central Park."
"I am." She had suspected Boris was responsible. She'd also suspected he was stupid enough to fall for this bait. "Are you saying you killed one of those mortals?"
"Maybe." He lifted his chin with a challenging glare. "Maybe I killed all three. What's the reward?"
Katya stood slowly. She still had on her hunting clothes��a black lace camisole and a clingy skirt sliced up to her right hip. She wore nothing underneath. Dressed like this, she could usually scrounge up dinner in less than five minutes. Mortal men practically lined up to donate blood. She would feed from several, play with one or two if they were pretty enough, then send them away with their memories erased and an erection they couldn't explain.
She perched on the edge of the desk and crossed her legs so her right leg was exposed up to the hip. "What kind of reward would you like?"
He licked his lips. "I was thinking money or a bigger coffin. Or maybe��" His gaze feasted on her body, then lifted to her eyes. "You."
Her grip tightened on the edge of the desk, but she kept her smile even. "Are you admitting to the murders then?"
"Hell yes, I killed the women. Fucked them first, then drained them dry and slit their throats."
"How sporting of you." Katya pushed away from the desk and returned to her chair.
Boris shrugged. "There's plenty more where they came from. It's not like we're going to suffer from a food shortage." He grinned. "So are you giving over?"
She sat. "I am your master, not your whore."
Anger flashed in his eyes, and he stood. "Galina does it. She's upstairs right now, entertaining Miroslav and Burien."
"Then get in line. Galina enjoys boosting morale with her revolving door policy. I'm the one running this coven, and I have real business to attend to."
He snorted. "You're only master because you killed Ivan."
"Something you didn't have the balls to do." Katya opened her top drawer and inserted a dart into a blowpipe. "No, you attack defenseless women and call yourself a man."
He stiffened. "It is no crime to kill mortals. It is our right." His eyes narrowed. "There's no reward, is there? I should have known you were a lying bitch."
"Oh, there is a reward." Katya lifted the blowpipe to her mouth, and with a puff of air, she sent the dart flying straight to Boris's neck.
"I��" He stumbled back with a stunned look. He yanked the dart from his neck. "Nightshade?" He crumpled to the floor.
"It works fast, don't you think?" Katya strolled over to his paralyzed body, then placed a foot on his chest. She pressed down on the stiletto heel. "How do you like your reward?"
Boris's eyes clouded with pain and fear.
"You see, normally I wouldn't object to a mortal dying. I've killed quite a few myself. It's your motivation I object to. You're trying to cause a war between my coven and Draganesti's. You think if a war erupts, I'll be replaced. And you thought I was too stupid to figure that out." She leaned over. "I'm not going anywhere. You, on the other hand��"
The phone rang, interrupting her speech.
"Damn." She glanced at the phone, then at Boris. "Don't go away." Chuckling, she strolled back to the desk to answer the phone. "Hello?"
"Is this Katya Miniskaya, co-master of the Russian-American coven?" The masculine voice had sneered over the word co-master.
She tamped down on her anger. A male vampire would never get this kind of disrespect. Only one man had ever recognized her talent and potential. He'd praised her for what others failed to see. She'd set out to seduce him for the sheer challenge, but she'd fallen into her own trap. She'd fallen for him. And the bastard had abandoned her.
She should have killed him.
She shoved the memory aside. She was a coven master now. She didn't need any man, and she wasn't going to let this arrogant creep on the phone jerk her around. "Who are you? What do you want?"
"I am an associate of Casimir." The voice paused.
Katya waited, but he remained silent. Maybe he thought the mere mention of Casimir would scare her to the point she'd be unable to carry on a conversation. She snorted. "So?"
"He is unhappy with you."
"Big deal. I'm not real happy with him, either." Casimir had let everyone think he had died in the Great Vampire War of 1710. He'd left everyone feeling defeated and leaderless.
A form wavered beside the empty chair, then solidified. He was a chunky man with a neck thicker than his head, wispy brown hair, and cold blue eyes that regarded her with bored condescension. His gray suit and leather briefcase looked strictly business, but Katya knew danger when she saw it.
She eased around the back of her desk, making a show of hanging up her phone and sitting down. Her new position put her close to her blowpipe and supply of nightshade darts.
His lips curled into a sneer. "Thank you for seeing me." He snapped his cell phone shut and dropped it into his coat pocket.
Crap. He'd used her voice as a beacon. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"I am Jedrek Janow, a close friend of Casimir."
She carefully kept her face blank. She'd heard his name mentioned in whispers over the years. He was Casimir's favorite hit man. "How do you do?" She motioned for him to take a seat.
He didn't. The bastard preferred staring down at her. He gently deposited his leather briefcase in the chair.
She lifted her chin. "How come you're awake? Has the sun not risen where you and Casimir are hiding?"
His eyes narrowed. "Casimir's location is none of your concern. As for me, I teleported from Paris. I cannot stay long."
"What a shame."
"Your arrogance is not becoming." He stepped toward the desk. "Make no mistake. Casimir has allowed you to remain in power. He could remove you at any moment."
Katya tried hard to show no reaction, but she could feel the blood draining from her face. When Casimir removed someone, it was permanent. Was that why Jedrek had come? Did he mean to kill her tonight? "There is no reason to be displeased with me. This coven was poor until I took over. Now we're rich."
"There has never been a female coven master before."
She stood. "You think I'm not tough enough for this job?" She motioned to the floor behind Jedrek. "Say hello to Boris."
Jedrek glanced at Boris without comment, then returned his gaze to her. "You dress like a slut."
"These are my hunting clothes. I'm guaranteed several quarts within five minutes. I like to call it fast food."
"You took over by murdering Ivan Petrovsky."
She shrugged. "An ancient and time-honored method for career advancement."
"Petrovsky was the one who saved Casimir's life at the end of the Great War."
She was screwed. "I didn't know that. Everyone thought Casimir was dead."
"According to my sources, Ivan admitted Casimir was alive before you killed him."
She swallowed hard. One of her coven members was snitching on her. "Galina and I are doing an excellent job as co-masters. Perhaps you would like to meet her?"
"She is a whore."
"But such a good one. The men are very happy."
Jedrek slammed a beefy fist on the desk. "You fool. Casimir doesn't want happy followers. Why do you think the enemy calls us the Malcontents?"
Katya planted her hands on the desk and leaned toward him. "My coven follows all the traditions of the True Ones. We feed off mortals. We manipulate them for money. We detest the weak vampires who drink from bottles like babies. And when Casimir is ready to slaughter them, we will be there."
Jedrek snorted. "How can you fight for Casimir when you cannot defend your own coven? How many of your members have been slain in the last year?"
Crap. The little snitch was doing a thorough job. "There were three murders last summer. And one last week. But I have taken care of it."
"How? Did you capture the slayer?" Jedrek glanced back at Boris. "Is this the slayer?"
She was tempted to say yes. "He is... involved in the matter. As I said, I have the situation under control."
"Casimir wants proof of your commitment."
"Proof? That's easy enough. Say good-bye to Boris." Katya grabbed the wooden letter opener off her desk, marched over to Boris, and stabbed him through the heart. He turned to a pile of dust on her carpet. "Shall I pack you a to-go box for Casimir?"
Jedrek's arched brow indicated he was not impressed. "Casimir wants the slayer. He has special plans for him." The hit man turned to the chair where he'd deposited his briefcase and removed a small electronic device. He wandered about the room, watching a small screen on the device.
Katya dropped her letter opener on the desk. "What are you doing?"
"Casimir doesn't believe you can properly defend your lair. He heard Draganesti teleported into your home last spring and rescued someone you were holding prisoner."
"Ivan was in charge then. We've had no invasions since then, and I've increased the number of our daytime guards."
Jedrek continued to move about the room, looking at his device. "Did you know Angus MacKay was here in New York?"
Katya swallowed hard.
Jedrek sneered. "I'll take that as a no."
"I'm sure he comes often. Draganesti is one of his clients." Not that Angus would ever bother to see her.
"Interesting that he's here at this time, don't you think?"
Did Casimir suspect Angus was involved in the slayings? Well, he had killed more True Ones in the Great War than anyone else, and his company had a nasty way of investigating matters and dispensing their own brand of justice. The last time she'd seen him was last spring at the Gala Opening Ball. He'd acted like he didn't even know her. He'd only looked at her once when he'd slapped her with sarcasm. And what is yer idea of fun? Were ye planning to kill someone tonight?
Damn him. She should have killed him a long time ago.
"Aha!" Jedrek ran his fingers along the back of a curtain rod, then plucked off a small metallic object. "Still think you're qualified to lead this coven?" He dropped the listening device on her desk and smashed it with a paperweight.
She winced. How long had her office been bugged? Who was doing it? Draganesti? Or Angus MacKay?
Jedrek unscrewed the receiver to her phone and located another listening device. He glanced at her with a sneer. "Pathetic." He crushed the bug with the paperweight.
She gritted her teeth. Jedrek was going to enjoy telling Casimir about this. "I can protect this coven. And I will capture the slayer."
"Good." Jedrek dropped his bug detector into his briefcase and snapped it shut. "I'll expect delivery in a week."
Katya blinked. "Next Sunday?"
"Saturday." Jedrek shrugged. "Like I said, Casimir is unhappy with you. He's just looking for a reason to remove you."
To kill her. Katya clenched her fists. "I suppose he has a replacement picked out?"
"Yes." Jedrek straightened his tie, smiling. "Me."
"That is ridiculous. You're not even Russian. My members won't take orders from a Pole."
"Half Polish, half Russian." Jedrek shrugged. "Casimir doesn't give a damn about our heritage. What he wants, or demands, is loyalty."
"I am loyal."
"Prove it." Jedrek checked his watch. "Time for me to go."
"I will prove it." Katya marched toward him. "I'll do more than capture the slayer. I'll give you Angus MacKay."
Jedrek's brows shot up.
Katya smiled. At last she'd gotten a reaction.
Jedrek snorted. "You think you can capture the general of the Vamp army?"
"Wouldn't Casimir love to have him?" And wouldn't she love to watch him suffer. "I'll deliver him and the slayer by next Saturday. And you can stop lusting after my job."
Jedrek sneered. "We'll see about that. You'll never pull this off." He vanished.
Katya took a deep breath. Now she had to capture Angus MacKay. That would be extremely difficult. Was he involved with the slayings? It was very coincidental that he was in New York at the same time, but whether or not he was involved, it no longer mattered. She'd promised both Angus and the slayer, and her life was going to be very short if she didn't deliver them both by Saturday.
Crap! She needed a plan. Katya paced about the office. It would take a whole team of men to capture Angus. And once she had him and the slayer captured, she would have to hold them prisoner without them escaping.
She needed silver. Tons of silver. Thank God the coven was now rich. Months ago, she and Alek had teleported into a few shops in the Diamond District, helped themselves to some loose gems, then teleported to an associate in California who had paid them 1.2 million dollars. They were back, all cozy in Brooklyn, before the police even knew the gems were missing.
She would make a room of silver. That would keep the slayer and Angus unable to teleport to freedom. And she would need lots of nightshade. Her supply was running low.
She paused when another problem occurred to her. How could she turn Angus and the slayer over to Jedrek on Saturday? He wanted her to fail, so he could take over her coven. She couldn't trust him at all. No, she would have to deliver the prisoners herself. Not easy, when she wasn't quite sure where Casimir was. Somewhere in Eastern Europe or Russia, she would bet.
Galina would help. Her neck was on the line, too. Didn't she own some place in the Ukraine?
Katya called Galina and Alek on the phone and demanded they come immediately to the office. Then she grabbed a pen and started making plans. Who could the slayer be? Only a vampire could possibly kill another vampire, and she strongly suspected the slayer was one of Draganesti's coven members. Or perhaps one of Angus MacKay's employees. Or even Angus MacKay himself.
Damn him. He would finally get what he deserved.
She looked up when Alek strode into the office. "We have one week to capture the slayer and Angus MacKay, then deliver them to Casimir."
Alek's mouth dropped open. "One week? When did this happen?"
"I just had a visitor. A Polish man named Jedrek Janow."
"I've heard of him. He's an assassin for Casimir."
Katya sighed. "He'll be... removing Galina and me if we don't make the delivery."
"Jesus," Alek whispered.
"I want you to find the slayer. Have our members work in teams of three. One can act like bait to draw the slayer in, while the others stay hidden and ready to attack."
"I'll get right on it." Alek started toward the door, then hesitated. "I��I never said anything, but... "
"What?" Katya glared at him. "We don't have much time."
Alek winced. "I saw Vladimir get murdered."
"What?" Katya rushed toward him. "You saw the slayer, and you never said anything?"
"They shot me with silver bullets. I was in so much pain, I didn't know what was happening. And then the girl, she came up from behind. We never saw her coming."
"The girl? They? Are you saying there are two of them?"
"Yes. A male and a female, working together. He shot me full of holes while Vladimir was feeding. Then she snuck up behind Vlad and staked him in the back."
Katya grabbed Alek by the shirt and pulled him forward. "You fool. Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"I��I had to get the bullets dug out. The silver was killing me. I had to go to an emergency clinic and take over the nurses' and doctors' minds. It took the rest of the night."
Katya gritted her teeth and pushed him away. "You could have told me the next night."
He hung his head. "I was ashamed. Vladimir had been a close friend. I should have saved him somehow."
Katya sighed. "So you're certain there are two slayers? A man and a woman?"
Alek nodded, still avoiding her gaze.
She smoothed down his shirt where her grasp had wrinkled it. "You failed to save Vladimir, but you can save me and Galina."
"I will." He gave her a beseeching look. "I'd do anything for you, Katya. I swear."
She'd always suspected his willingness to help was based on more than loyalty. She patted his cheek. "Help me catch the slayers, Alek, and I'll do anything for you."
His eyes glimmered as he looked her over. "They're as good as dead." He rushed out the door, nearly running over Galina.
"Where's he going in such a big hurry?" Galina asked.
"We're rushed for time. Don't you own some sort of fortress in the Ukraine?"
"It's more like an old manor house. Why do you ask?"
"You're leaving tonight. We need a prison cell, completely lined with silver. I'll give you the money."
Galina raised her perfectly plucked eyebrows. "We're going to hold a vampire prisoner?"
"More than one. The slayer, or perhaps two slayers. And Angus MacKay."
Galina's mouth dropped open. "The general of the Vamp army?"
"Yes." And the bastard who had abandoned her years ago. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's one of the slayers." And he was working with a woman? That made Katya's blood boil. She hadn't been good enough for him, but this bitch was? "Casimir wants them. Either they die, or we do."
Galina winced. "Well, that's a no-brainer."
Katya nodded. The night was full of surprises. She hadn't realized Galina had a brain.