Haunted Moon (29 page)

The kitchen bookshelf opened, along with the steel door behind it as Menolly appeared. She grinned. “Before you even try to cover your tracks, Iris, I overheard what you two were talking about. Camille is right. You and Bruce will sleep in the parlor until your house is done. The trailer can go back tomorrow. No arguments or I’ll get pissed and you really don’t want me pissed at you.”

Iris blushed, then ducked her head. “If you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble…”

“Go tell Bruce right now, so the guys can bring in some of your clothes for the night.” Menolly waved her off and, smiling, our house sprite took off for the living room. After Iris was gone, she laughed. “Hormones. Gotta love them. That’s one thing I’ll never have to worry about.” But her voice was wistful.

I stared at her. “You want children?” My biological clock had never gone off, though I’d half-promised to think about kids with the guys, if Smoky could find a way around the fact that we were from different species. But if I had a child with him, I’d have to have one with Trillian first, because he was my alpha. If we ever did end up parents, I had the sinking feeling I’d be the mother of three. And I really wasn’t keen on the idea. At least not right now. But we had a long, long time to decide, and I wasn’t about to let anybody rush me into it.

Menolly shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess…I wish I had the chance to make a choice. But Dredge killed any options I might have.”

“Nerissa can have a baby. You guys could still parent.” I began putting fresh dough on the cookie sheets and slid them into the oven. Menolly picked up the tray of warm cookies and followed me out of the kitchen.

“Well, that’s an idea. Maybe…” she said, dropping the subject as we reached the living room.

Hanna was following Iris and Bruce toward the kitchen. “I will help them bring in their clothes and make up the sofa
bed.” She smiled knowingly at me, and I realized she’d suspected Iris’s unhappiness. “Maggie will need her cream drink in twenty minutes.”

“We’ll take care of it.” I glanced over at the corner of the living room, where Maggie was playing with Misty. Both of them missed Snickers—Marion’s cat—and I had a feeling Delilah did, too. Maggie trailed a string around, and Misty was chasing it, both of them in heaven.

We settled in, me in the rocking chair, curled up on Smoky’s lap, and Menolly in her usual place, hovering near the ceiling. Nerissa was carrying the baskets of laundry off to each room.

“Okay, I guess it’s general meeting time. We have several things to go over—infiltrating the Aleksais Psychic Network, trying to figure out how to find out whether Gulakah sneaked in any more spirit demon eggs, dealing with the zombie scare that is gripping Seattle. Oh, Menolly—you haven’t heard yet. You may have to calm Roman and Blood Wyne.”

At her look, I launched into a quick recap of what had happened, while Roz handed her the paper. She glanced at the story and rolled her eyes.

“So now, the vampires are responsible for zombie uprisings? How stupid can these people be?” She let go of the paper and it came fluttering down to the floor, where Maggie, distracted from Misty, grabbed for it.

Roz managed to snag it out of her reach, and she started to cry. Delilah picked her up and walked her back and forth, soothing the bereft baby.

“They aren’t stupid. In fact, Earthborn Brethren are smart. Pin the blame on the vampires and they’ve got a new little hate war going—one that’s easier to fan the flames on, when people start dying. Most of the citizens of Seattle had no clue zombies actually existed. Now they know, but they have no idea of how they’re made or born or whatever—for all they know, some demented stork might have dug them out of the grave.”

Morio snorted. “Zombie stork.”

“Right…I wouldn’t put it past them to come up with that
one. Anyway, the story that vampires raise them? It’s as plausible as any, given the general level of knowledge about how magic works, at least among the basic populace.”

I took a deep breath. “We can’t blame them for being afraid. It’s like…well…George A. Romero’s worlds come to life.
Night of the Living Dead
is imprinted on people’s memories. And the
Walking Dead
. And…hell, even
Zombie Strippers
.”

Menolly lowered herself to the floor. “Yeah, yeah, I know all that shit, but fuck, it just infuriates me that the freakshow minority has to stir things up every chance they get. They’ll use anything—including the lives of the innocent who are killed—to prove their point. Or at least, to try to prove it.”

“Remember, they think of
us
as the freakshow minority. But they have no compassion.” I sighed, leaning forward to rest my chin on my hands. “We need to put a stop to them before they gain a foothold in society.”

“So what do we do?” Trillian looked over at me.

I didn’t want to go out again. I just wanted an evening at home, doing nothing but eating cookies and playing a game or watching a movie. However, movies didn’t solve the problem; they just offered a temporary escape.

“I want to discuss how to use that talisman, but first, we should head over to the Shrouded Grove Suites. The protesters are currently there.” I pushed myself to my feet. “We don’t all have to go. I will. Who else is up for some picket-line busting?”

Menolly raised her hand. “Count me in.”

Trillian shook his head. “I’ll come along. I usually stay home, but tonight, I feel like getting out. Even if it is to bash some sense into a few people’s heads.” He headed to the hall closet and pulled out his long leather duster.

Smoky nodded. “I will come, too. Shade, you stay home for a change.”

We ended up leaving Shade, Vanzir, and Delilah home to watch over the house, while Morio, Trillian, Smoky, Menolly, Rozurial, and I headed for the cars. We had no clue
what we’d be facing, so it seemed better to bring a larger group than just a couple of us.

Menolly climbed into her Jag, and Roz rode with her, while my men rode with me. As we pulled out of the driveway, the sky was overcast and it started to pour rain. Once again, we headed out into the night.

Morio put in a call to Chase when we were on the way, to let him know of our plans. When he hung up, I could see in the rearview mirror that his expression was strained.

“Chase said things are getting worse. They’ve found another egg, though not nearly as big as the one this morning, so we have a little time before it hatches. There are more zombies incoming…feeding it like they did the one this morning. I guess we should swing by there after we disrupt the protesters.”

Glad I’d had a couple of naps during the day, all I could do was nod. The last thing I wanted to do was encounter another batch of spirit demons. Even though I didn’t want to involve them, I glanced at Morio through the mirror again.

“Call Delilah. Have her get in touch with Frank Willows and tell him to start up the phone trees, but also make sure they know
not
to arrive until we get there and scope out the situation. She’d better come, too, given we’ll be dealing with the Supe Community werewolves again. I guess…call Menolly and tell her to double back and pick her up? We’re not that far out from the house yet.”

As Morio set to calling, I steeled myself for another rough battle, keeping my eyes on the road as we sped through the rain-soaked night.

Built by investors who’d seen the profit margin above the fear, the Shrouded Grove Suites apartment tower was in a posh part of the city. With landlords who were Fae taking the day shift, and vampires for the night shift, the building was vampire-specific. The development had been a stroke of genius, and both towers were filled to capacity, with a long waiting list. We had heard there were more in process.

Each apartment offered at least two windowless rooms, and throughout the rest of the apartment, shuttered windows kept out both UV rays and the sunlight in general. The rooms were tiled, for easy cleanup, and had security locks on the bedroom doors.

Wade Stevens lived here, and so did a number of prominent vampires who didn’t want to go to the trouble of keeping guards posted. Vamps who weren’t publicly known could afford to go without guards, but there were too many hate groups to trust to fate if a vampire had any sort of notoriety.

We pulled into the parking lot, somewhere near the
middle. I wanted to get a scope on things before we went marching up there. We could see the picket line from here. It was long, too long for comfort.

A few minutes later, Menolly pulled up alongside my Lexus, with Rozurial and Delilah in the Jag with her.

Grimacing at the steady rain, I shrugged into a light jacket. It was chilly, and I didn’t want my bustier getting ruined. It was jacquard and I’d have changed if I’d thought we were going to be doing more than talking to these bozos, but once we were on the road and had talked to Chase about the second egg, I really didn’t want to take the time to go back to the house to change clothes. I needed to start keeping a set of fighting clothes in the car. The very thought of that depressed me.

“What’s the game plan?” Menolly shaded her eyes to stare at the crowd. “They don’t look so tough from here.”

“They may not be tough, but we can’t just go in and rough them up, either. I don’t think that would play too well with the crowd. Besides, given the headlines, I have the sick feeling that the
Seattle Tattler
may start up again under new management. Don’t ask me why, I just do.”

“That would figure.” Trillian sighed. “What say we mosey on up, tell them they need to dial it back, and if they protest, we threaten them with a lawsuit for harassment? Isn’t that a hate crime, if it’s directed toward a specific minority?”

“Yeah, but free speech isn’t a crime. Let’s see what we’re dealing with before we do anything.” As usual, I had the feeling we were probably walking into more trouble than we actually were prepared for, but then—why spoil our batting record?

Menolly snorted. “Free speech isn’t a crime, but what they’re inciting is. Look at those fucking signs.” By then we were close enough to see them under the streetlights along the condo tower.

While not located in the best part of the city, the Shrouded Grove Suites tower was well placed and had been constructed to keep out an army. In addition to the internal amenities, reinforced steel surrounded most of the apartments, hidden beneath the concrete and drywall, and although not visible to
the public, steel gates were prepared to slam down if anybody tried to storm the front door.

The building was fireproofed, with all outside vents and exits guarded by security monitors. All workers who came in or out of the building had to be vetted with background checks, and most were Supes of one kind or another. Anybody with even remote affiliations to the anti-Supe hate groups was automatically weeded out. Silver and garlic were forbidden.

Each twenty stories tall, the twin apartment buildings were aesthetically soothing to the eye, dark and mysterious, but they lent an upscale air to the surrounding neighborhood, and since they’d opened up, real estate prices in the surrounding blocks had skyrocketed. People loved vampires as much as they feared them. Only now—if the Earthborn Brethren had their way—that would rapidly change. It occurred to me that the Seattle chamber of commerce, as well as all the local real estate agents, had a vested interest in keeping the peace.

Menolly and I took the lead, with Delilah and Roz behind us, and Smoky, Trillian, and Morio brought up the rear. As we headed through the parking lot, the protesters saw us coming. Immediately, they closed ranks and formed a line. What was this? Human-shield day?

I decided to take the lead, since Menolly would just antagonize them. As I glanced over the group, I realized I didn’t recognize anybody. By now, we knew some of the locals who were big in the wacko groups, but nobody here looked familiar. Maybe we had a new crew to deal with, or maybe those who’d been Andy Gambit’s supporters didn’t want to hurt the “cause” by appearing up front.

Although that thought might be giving them too much credit. They weren’t the brightest bulbs in the sockets.

As we approached them, one of the bigger lugs pushed his way through to the front. He looked like a quarterback with a buzz cut, and he was wearing jeans and a suit jacket over a button-down shirt. The sign in his meaty hands read, “Stake the Bloodsuckers!” He looked us over, stopping when he came to Menolly.

“Your kind aren’t welcome here.” His voice was raspy, and he smelled like stale cigarette butts.

Uh-oh, this wasn’t going to be pretty.

Menolly’s eyes narrowed. “I think you’re mistaken. My
kind
are welcome here—these towers are built for vampires. You’re the intruders.”

“You’re unclean. You’re an agent for the devil—”

Menolly snarled and her fangs came down. “I advise you people to back off.
Now.
Or you’re going to
wish
I were an agent for the devil.”

I pushed in front of her and stared up at him. He towered over both of us. “Dude, you need to move on.” I glanced at the signs. They were vicious, inciting violence. Some claimed the vamps had reanimated the zombies. “I could so easily call the cops and say you’re instigating hate crimes.”