Thaumatology 12: Vengeance (17 page)

‘We’re doing a new arrangement of “Goddess’ Gift,”’ Kai told them, ‘a rock version. And we’re doing a new recording of the original that’ll go out as a “bonus” track. Company wants t’ put it out in America. They said that one of the tribal leaders got wind of what we do. If it sells well, they want us t’ do a tour. The northern States
and
some of the Tribal Territories.’

‘Katarina,’ Ceri said. ‘I’d put money on that “tribal leader” being the Alpha of the Black Crows.’

‘Alexandra’s sister,’ Lily added.

‘Oh,’ Kai said. ‘Suddenly I feel more inclined to go for it.’

Ceri gave him a grin. ‘Rhys seems to have settled in,’ she said, apparently changing the subject. ‘Has he?’

‘Yeah, I think so. Everyone’s happy with him. He’s got a good handle on running the pack, of course, and Heather’s been good for him. The Elders are a lot more relaxed since he got himself a bitch who’s probably going to end up his mate.’

‘Black-fur?’

‘Aye. Good few blacks in Scotland.’

‘Good. Think we can get him to London in the summer? I think things’ve settled enough for that conference.’

Kai gave a shrug. ‘I think, as long as no one minds Heather going with him, you can persuade him to go to the Moon. Talk to him tonight.’

Mile End, London.

‘Holy crap,’ John muttered as he walked through the scene of carnage which had been a squat and drug den the day before. ‘How many dead?’

‘We’ve got ten bodies,’ one of the SOCOs said. ‘We think…’

‘You think?’

‘Well a couple came disassembled, but we think the total adds up to ten.’

‘Shit. Right.’

Kate appeared from one of the rooms, her pale features a little paler than usual. ‘This place is a disaster area,’ she stated, her voice a little numb. ‘I mean, we’ve been to some bad scenes, but… The ones with broken necks got off easy. We’ve got disembowelling, castration, ripped out throats. All of it done by hand as far as anyone can tell.’

‘Werewolf?’ John suggested, not really believing it.

‘From what Ceri’s said, it’d have to be a black-fur. Ceri’s out of town, Alexandra wouldn’t, and I’m willing to bet Alec was at Carter’s place last night. We can check, but… To be honest, this doesn’t look like a wolf.’

A uniformed officer appeared in the doorway, notebook in hand. ‘We’ve got one possible,’ he said. ‘Guy across the street saw a woman leaving the building. About five-nine, slim, blonde hair. She was dressed in black.’

‘A vampire?’ Now John really sounded like he did not believe what he was saying.

‘Not
a
vampire,’ Kate replied, ‘
the
vampire.’

Brecon Beacons, Wales.

Heather’s eyes widened as she watched Ceri transform Lily from a stunningly attractive redhead into the best-looking brown-furred werewolf anyone had ever seen. Lily gave a yip of pleasure and bounced away to where most of the other pack members were already in fur, milling around with gathering excitement.

The wide eyes shifted to the collar around Ceri’s throat. ‘You… You’re
that
Ceridwyn Brent? The one Tegan wrote the song about?’

So that was what the frown was about in the hotel: she had not known who she was meeting. ‘I thought you knew,’ Ceri said.

‘No… Rhys just said you were Michael’s mate. His human mate. I thought…’ She stopped, biting her lips. ‘That was going to sound all wrong.’

‘What?’

‘Well, taking a human for a mate in the Highlands is… sort of an act of desperation. It’s like marrying beneath you. No offence. I mean, you’re Luperca’s favourite!’

‘None taken,’ Ceri replied. ‘Things are, apparently, a bit different in London. And here. Michael’s mother was human. He’s half-brother to Rhys and Kai.’

‘Rhys didn’t mention that either. He said, “He’s my brother, and a Guard in one of London’s greatest packs.” He sounded really proud.’

Ceri smiled; that was quite a change from their last visit. She touched her collar, feeling her skin tingle as she shifted.
Come,
she barked.
Run!

London, England.

It had taken all day to find someone willing to give up the location of Braun’s hiding hole in the Underground and the tactical officers in charge of going in first were not especially happy with what they were facing. A narrow corridor, little more than an access walkway, led to the door to her rooms. It was going to be single file in with one of the most powerful vampires in the world on the other side.

Under orders from Chief Barry, Kate and John were in body armour and bringing up the rear, and they were carrying pistols loaded with incendiary rounds. Kate was of the opinion that if it got to the point where she needed to shoot something she was dead anyway, but John was holding his Sterling low as if he was waiting for a chance to fire it.

There was a crash from the head of the team, then the thud and flash of a stun grenade, and then a lot of shouting. John pushed forward behind the tactical team, Kate bringing up the rear with her heart in her throat.

She need not have worried.

‘No one here,’ John muttered as his eyes scanned the bed chamber which was the last of the two rooms. It was sparse. There was a four-poster bed with ragged drapes hung around it, a chair, and little else. There was certainly no sign of Hildegard Braun.

‘Yeah,’ Kate said, ‘but… This place looks like it was turned over before we got here.’

John gave a slow nod. There were papers scattered across the floor. Someone had torn open the pillows on the bed and ripped long gashes in the lumpy mattress. ‘Someone came looking for her before we did. So maybe she’s out looking for them.’

‘It makes sense. She doesn’t come up from here without a good reason, something threatening. Something
personally
threatening.’

John gave a grunt. ‘What threatens a five-hundred-years-dead vampire?’

Kate gave a shrug. ‘A six-hundred-year-old one?’

Brecon Beacons, Wales, April 16
^th
.

They had found a spot where the hills had been cut into a slight bowl, found enough wood to build a fire, and now the wolves of the Brecon pack were celebrating Michael’s birthday in the manner of werewolves gathered together under the stars.

Somewhere among the scattered bodies Lily was back in skin and enjoying herself. Michael was in there too. Ceri had shifted back and was sitting beside the fire, taking a break from her constant stream of admirers, when Rhys appeared beside her. He shifted as he sat down, from a very impressive, black-furred wolf-man to a still fairly impressive man.

‘Your demon is leaving a trail of exhausted wolves in her wake,’ he said, grinning as he did so.

‘Sounds like Lily. She has the advantage of keeping her strength up
while
expending energy on sex.’ She glanced at him. ‘I wanted to talk to you anyway. About coming to London.’

‘I thought you might. When were you thinking?’

‘This summer. July, maybe early August.’

He gave a nod. ‘I can make arrangements. Get word to me when you’ve fixed a date. I’ll see about getting Hywel down from the north. You should think about contacting the Scottish packs.’

‘I wouldn’t know how.’

‘Ask Alexandra. Maybe Luperca can have a word in a few ears.’

Ceri chuckled. ‘I’ll need to talk to her about it anyway…’ Her gaze caught the slim, tightly muscled shape of Heather’s wolf-form on all fours in the grass. ‘Heather’s kind of quiet, but she seems to get into it fairly quickly.’

‘I’ve no complaints about our physical relationship, in either shape,’ Rhys replied, smirking.

Ceri turned, lifting her leg over his to straddle his hips. ‘Well if you don’t mind doing it in man-shape…’

He let out a low growl as she ground against him. A human might have had qualms about sex with his brother’s wife, but Rhys was werewolf to the core. ‘I find it a refreshing change,’ he whispered.

Battersea, London.

Lorna sat silently in the north clearing, watching the far side of the lake. John had insisted that she stay with the pack until he came to collect her. At first she had been annoyed; she had gone to all this trouble to persuade him that she was not a helpless waif and now he was treating her just as he had. What did he think
he
could stop that she could not? Except that she could tell that was not the problem. Her husband was worried, very worried. He would not tell her what he was worried about, but she knew it was the case he was working on.

So she waited, and watched for him, nervous and too restless to sit among the wolves in Alexandra’s clearing. And then something moved out of the darkness on the opposite bank.

Lorna started to move and then came to a halt as she realised that the figure she was seeing was not human. A woman, shorter than she was, but still moderately tall, her head surrounded by a cloud of blonde hair. She looked, as best Lorna could tell, like quite the beauty, but she was dead, and very old. The sense of age and power was almost palpable as she reached out an arm toward Lorna.

And then there were a dozen wolves around the younger vampire, growling and snarling at the figure across the water. Alexandra appeared beside Lorna, putting one hand on her shoulder. The blonde vampire turned and the shadows seemed to wrap around her like a shroud. Lorna felt her spine relax, unaware that she had tensed.

‘I’ve only seen her twice before,’ Alexandra said, ‘and that was in the wake of the Shattering. She keeps to herself usually, working from the shadows, out of the light.’

‘Who…?’ Lorna breathed.

‘It seems your husband was right to ask that you stay here tonight, child. Hildegard Braun is not someone a vampire wants taking an interest in her.’

Kennington.

Twill flitted back and forth in front of the doors in the hall as Gwyn took her time coming down from the study. Well, to Twill it felt like she was taking her time, but fairies tended to think faster than larger people, and it might have been worry. There were four wolves, a vampire, a man, and a witch on the grounds, and that could not be good. Ishifa hovered at the foot of the stairs, watching her not-mistress pacing in the air.

‘Detectives,’ Gwyn said when she had opened the outer door, ‘and Anita… I am assuming this is not a social visit?’ She stepped back and Twill watched as John and Kate trooped in, followed by Lorna, with Anita bringing up the rear and shifting to human as she stepped over the threshold.

‘I have a favour to ask,’ John said. ‘We need somewhere safe for Lorna to stay for a few days.’

‘Of course,’ Gwyn replied without a second’s thought, ‘but…’

John frowned. ‘Hildegard Braun…’

Red light flickered around Twill before he could say anything else. ‘Come Ishifa, we’ll make up some beds in the dungeon.’

‘Thank you, Twill,’ Lorna called out to the rapidly retreating fairy.

‘Braun,’ Gwyn mused. ‘Could she have been the one who had Lorna possessed?’

‘From what I know of her,’ Mei said, her soft voice making everyone jump, ‘it would not have been her.’ She had arrived on the small landing above the last flight of stairs without anyone noticing. ‘Unlike many older vampires, she does not practise necromancy, or any other form of magic. When she made herself known to Ceridwyn, I conducted an investigation of her under orders from Huanglong. He did not wish her influence affecting his tool. My information is far from complete, but it seems she has never had cause to use any powers other than her vampiric ones.’

‘That just confirms it then,’ John stated, his frown growing deeper. ‘We have two, very powerful, vampires on a rampage. Ceri picked a damn inconvenient time to be on holiday.’

Below Llyn Cau, Wales.

Michael was walking like a man who had somehow been mesmerised into following wherever he was led. Ceri was amused; it was terribly cute in a man who would be turning twenty-one in the morning. His eyes never strayed far from Lily’s behind even though the day was bright and warm, the sky clear, and the landscape quite beautiful.

Lily had decided that appropriate attire for a march up the side of a mountain was a T-shirt which draped over her large breasts, swaying as she walked, and her shortest pair of shorts. In truth, Ceri could feel contented, sun-warmed, half-succubus across their link; Lily had partially gone for semi-naked so that she could get sun on her skin. It had also been, according to her, to keep Michael entertained. If he got any more entertained his tongue would be hanging out.

Ceri was leading, in jeans and her MIT T-shirt. It was racer-backed and she felt that was enough flesh for this time of year in Wales. They had got to the lake at the bottom of the valley, Llyn Mwyngil, at midday, had lunch in Tal-y-llyn, and decided to walk up the side of Cader. People called it Cader, though correctly it was Cadair Idris, the seat or stronghold of Idris. There were false associations with King Arthur, legends about giants who sat up there watching the stars, and more prosaic tales of a mundane king who had fought the Irish. It was said that if you spent a night alone on the slopes of the mountain you would come down a poet or a madman, but they had no plans to stay that long.