Way of the Wolf: Shifter Legacies 1 (15 page)

Terry stumbled back as if pushed. He reached a shaking hand to his face and brought his fingers away bright with blood. His nose was bleeding, but there had been no blow.

“You promised.”

“You shall receive your reward. Have I not given my word?” Stephen said and dismissed Terry by turning his attention back to Marie.

Terry retreated. “Thank you, Stephen.”

“Don’t leave me with him!” she pleaded, but Terry ignored her and continued backing away.

“Hush. No harm shall befall you,” Stephen promised.

She believed him, which scared her worse than anything else. Was he using his magic on her? “What did you promise him, and what are you going to do with me?”

“Terry is a minor servant of mine. He has been useful to me in the past, but I think that is coming to an end. A pity.”

He smiled but she noticed how he kept his lips tight. The thought of what he was made her faintly queasy. She ought to be screaming the place down, but she felt calm—she was curious more than anything. That fact would probably scare her later. Why wasn’t she screaming? She found herself leaning forward trying to see his fangs.

Stephen noticed and allowed her to see.

“They’re so tiny,” she said in wonder. “I mean, I’m sure they’re more than adequate—” she broke off in confused embarrassment.

Stephen’s startled laughter rang through the club, and suddenly everyone was beaming in pleasure—including Marie. It was wonderful that he was happy. He should be happy. She wished she could think of something else to make him laugh. Maybe she could—the babbling in her head suddenly cut off as if with a knife. It left her feeling almost dizzy.

“Forgive my indiscretion.”

“I don’t understand.”

He gestured to his patrons who were conversing with their companions as if nothing had happened. “I sometimes leak power. It can lead to embarrassing situations.”

“You
leak?
” she squeaked.

Stephen grinned. “They felt my delight in you and reacted.” He tilted his head a little and his hair spilled from his shoulder to cover one eye. Marie’s hand twitched and reached toward him of its own will. She wanted to brush it away, but she snatched control of herself and forced it to be still.

Stephen continued as if unaware of her confusion. “I asked Terry to make it possible for us to meet.”

“Why?”

“Would you believe I was curious?”

“No.”

“I didn’t think so,” he said approvingly. “What do you know of your father’s business dealings?”

“What has my father to do with this?”

“Humour me.”

“I know that he has interests in a lot of companies, mostly in electronics. Techtron is his though.”

“Techtron is why you are here. Would you like to order food?”

She blinked at the subject change. “I’m not hungry.”

“Some wine perhaps? I have some very fine vintages here, very fine,” he said wistfully. “Let me choose one for you.”

“Just the wine then.”

Stephen gestured to one of the waiters, the same one who had brought his chair earlier, and spoke to him quietly. The waiter seemed surprised by something, but he nodded and left to fetch Stephen’s choice of wine.

“You said Techtron is the reason you invited me here.”

“That’s right. Have you heard of AML?”

“Who hasn’t?”

AML stood for the Anti Monster League. It was an organisation supposedly supported by concerned citizens that saw non-humans as a danger to humanity. Publicly, AML stood for peaceful protest with the aim of segregating all non-humans from human areas. Reservations were AML’s public answer to everything monster related. Privately, AML fanatics could be credited with any number of atrocities against non-humans.

“AML is ready to launch its new campaign.”

“And you think that Techtron is somehow involved? No, you wouldn’t need me for that... you think it’s my father!” she said in outrage.

“Not your father, but someone highly placed in his organisation.” Stephen said appeasing her. “Ah, here is the wine.”

The waiter placed a single glass on the table and then carefully, almost reverently opened the bottle. Marie watched all this in bemusement. She would like to ask what was so special about the wine and the occasion, but she did not want to display her ignorance. Stephen obviously took his wines seriously. She would not spoil it for him.

“Should I pour, sir?”

“No, thank you, Michael, I shall serve the lady. You can go.”

The waiter placed the bottle reverently on the table and excused himself.

Marie was sure she was missing something. Was it unusual for Stephen to sit with a guest, or was it something else? The waiter had left with a strange look on his face—almost amazed.

“I remember wines of such variety and colour that today’s vintners would scarce believe me should I try to describe them. So much has been lost—”

“A lot has been gained though surely?”

Stephen shrugged. “Oh… yes, I suppose so. There are the occasional bright spots. A new variety of grape was grown not long ago. I am told that it produces a wine that almost surpasses the great wines lost so long ago.”

“You haven’t tested it?”

“I cannot,” Stephen said. “My condition prevents me.”

“You can only drink—” she couldn’t say it.

“Blood, yes. Water also, if taken in small amounts.”

That was one way to finish conversation. The thought of Stephen sinking his fangs into someone in order to drink their blood was horrible. He was so beautiful that it was easy to forget the reality. Vampires were not called monsters for nothing. Best she remember it.

“Whom do you suspect at Techtron?”

“I don’t.”

“Then how do you know that Techtron is involved?”

“Techtron has suddenly taken an interest in riverfront property.”

She waited but that was all. “Riverfront property. You mean property owned by monst... non-humans?”

Stephen nodded. “Property owned by us is being bought for huge sums of money. A building worth half a million at most is selling for three and four times that amount, yet one owned by a human—right next door sometimes, is not being sought at all.”

“AML don’t usually try to buy non-humans off.”

“No. They would scare them off or kill them. This is something new, something clever.”

“Clever? Why is it clever?”

“Killing us might not be illegal, but it is frowned upon,” Stephen said a touch bitterly. “This way, AML gets what it wants without attracting unwanted attention.”

“Killing a shifter is the same as killing a human,” she said and it was true. Shifters were people with an affliction, they were not truly monsters like vampires—she looked at Stephen and tried not to think along those lines. “It’s wrong.”

“I’m glad you think so, but you must be aware that AML class all non-humans the same way. They don’t discriminate between types, they simply kill them.”

That was unfortunately true in too many cases. She remembered reading in the news about an entire family being butchered. She remembered the awful pictures showing the dead children. The worst part was that they were innocent. Their father had contracted lycanthropy from a botched blood transfusion. It had happened well after they were born. The children were pure human, but AML hadn’t known or they hadn’t cared. The police never found the murderer.

“I guess I could ask my father why Techtron wants to buy into the riverfront.”

Stephen looked pleased. “I have tried to talk to him, but he won’t see me. He won’t accept my calls.”

“That doesn’t sound like him.”

“You would know that better than I,” Stephen said and carefully poured her a glass of wine. “Here, tell me what you think of this.”

She tasted the wine. “This is
wonderful!
” she said and it was. She was not a connoisseur of wines, but even she could tell that this was something special. She took another taste and savoured it.

Stephen lifted the bottle reverently, reading the label. “I saw this bottled. Well, it might have been another, but I certainly saw this batch created.”

“Is it old?” she asked after emptying her glass. It truly was the best she had ever tasted.

“It was bottled in seventeen ninety-one. This is the last of that year I have.”

She gasped. “And you opened it for me. It must be worth a fortune!” No wonder the waiter had almost been in shock.

“It has not been wasted. Wine is meant to be enjoyed, not left on a dusty rack as some kind of investment. I remember what it was like to eat and drink good food and wine. I wanted you to enjoy your visit.” He poured her another glass.

“I have,” she said and surprisingly it was true.

The unpleasantness with Terry had been relegated to the back of her mind and she did enjoy Stephen’s company. She knew what he was, and she still liked him. She knew how dangerous it was for a lone woman in the company of monsters and didn’t care. Besides, a woman alone was always in danger. It came with the job.

“What did you promise Terry to seduce me into coming here?”

“Seduction was hardly necessary. It had no part in this. It was a happy coincidence that Terry was already seeing you.”

“Is that what he told you—that we were seeing each other?”

Stephen frowned in annoyance. “Ah, he lied then. I shall discuss that with him when next we meet.”

“He lied,” she agreed. “This was supposed to be our first date. I met him not long ago at a friend’s party. He seemed nice.”

“Nice?” Stephen said, his eyebrows climbing in surprise. “I don’t think being nice is one of his qualities. It did surprise me when he said he knew you. I doubted him at the time. He hardly seems the type to move in the same circles as you.”

“I don’t have circles, not really.”

“Surely your father being who he is?”

“I love my father very much. He’s all the family I have, but his friends are not my friends. I have no interest in whether Mayor Richards is re-elected or not, and I certainly have no interest in the price of magically processed computer chips.”

“Then what are your interests, if I might ask?”

She shrugged.

“There must be something?”

She laughed a little in embarrassment. “My college major was biology. My father wouldn’t approve, but I used to think medicine might be something I could do.”

“But something changed your mind?”

She nodded as the familiar hurt surged up and closed her throat. Martin and she had both considered it, but when he disappeared, she had let the idea slide. It didn’t seem so important anymore.

“My friend and I talked about it, but then something happened and nothing came of it. If you don’t mind, I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Forgive me,” Stephen said with a slight inclination of his head.

She felt her eyes burning with the need to cry.

Stephen laid a hand carefully atop hers. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

She nodded and let the tears come. Stephen produced a handkerchief from somewhere and she dabbed at her eyes. She tried to laugh, but it came out like a hitch in her breath.

“This is so silly of me.”

“Pain is rarely silly. Your friend is dead?”

“No! I mean, I don’t know. I hope he’s well, but he just disappeared one night. Please, I don’t want to talk about this,” she said and tried to think of something else to talk about, but all she could see was Martin’s face. “I’m sorry, but I would like to leave now.”

Stephen stood as she rose. “I will have Terry drive you.”

Her lips twisted inti a sneer at the thought. “I’ll take a cab. I don’t want him near me.”

“I understand, but there’s no need for that. I’ll have Charles drive you.”

Her eyes widened at the thought of Charles alone with her. “I would rather—”

“Have no fear. Charles will be the perfect gentleman, I promise.”

She found herself nodding. A short time later, she was reclining in the back of a white limousine with Charles at the wheel.

* * *

9 ~ A Promise Kept

Stephen watched the limousine turn into traffic from the steps of the club, and remained there thinking long after the night had swallowed it. Marie intrigued him, and that was something to be treasured after so long a life. Few things had the power to surprise him any longer, but she had managed to do it.

“Will she help?” Danyelle asked approaching out of the darkness.

Stephen nodded. “I believe she will.” He turned back to enter the club and Danyelle paced him. “But we need something more.”

“Dare we lean upon such a weak support?”

“You question me? Ah, you are jealous of her,” Stephen said, strangely cheered by the thought. “You fear her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll still be beside you long after she is dust. She has nothing to offer you.”

“You’re wrong, she has herself to offer.”