Keeper of the Night, page 13
“Come on, we’re wasting time,” Rhiannon said.
The freeway was moving smoothly enough, but Rhiannon swore at every driver who slowed her down for two seconds. Sailor just rolled her eyes and told her, “Calm down.”
“It’s our first time attending council meetings as Keepers,” Rhiannon reminded her.
“That’s right, and they’ll wait for us if we’re late,” Sailor said, grinning.
Rhiannon looked at her and smiled slowly in return. There was something in her cousin’s tone—a touch of steel—that said she was going to do just fine.
She dropped Sailor at the deconsecrated 1890s church on Vine—by day it was a very trendy boutique carrying very trendy clothing. She saw the magician from the night before—the Count de Soir—and several other Elven at the entry. Sailor would be in good hands, but still Rhiannon was afraid to leave her. Then she saw that Brodie was there. He saw her, too, and came walking over to the car. He looked grim.
“What’s wrong?” she asked him.
He waved a hand in the air. “We’ll talk later. Come on, Sailor, I’ll walk you in.”
“Wish me luck,” Sailor whispered to her.
Rhiannon nodded, but she was looking at Brodie. “Keep her safe. Please.”
“Count on it. We’ll see you at the Snake Pit after this,” Brodie promised her.
Then he and Sailor turned away, and Rhiannon quickly drove on to her own destination.
Because the House of Illusion was owned by a vampire magician, Jerry Oglethorpe, the vampire council was held there. Jerry knew all the traditional magician’s moves, but he also liked to do a little cheating that left his audience—and his peers—awed. As a vampire, he could perform illusions that the others couldn’t begin to match. Some young magicians were counting on the hope that when he died, his secrets would be revealed. Rhiannon often felt sorry for them; they had no idea that Jerry would probably outlive them, and his secrets would never be known.
Rhiannon hadn’t been to the House of Illusion often. The majestic castle hidden away in the Canyon was really a social club for magicians, but on Friday and Saturday nights it functioned as a magicians’ showcase. They sold tickets, but you had to be invited to buy one. That kept the House of Illusion a fantasy—and made attendance there a must-manage-to-do for many of the tourists who came to Hollywood. And it made the Count’s invitation to the audience at the Snake Pit a real coup.
But once every two months, on the second Thursday night, the vampire council was held. There was an elected president who presided over the meeting, but the Keeper was the real power.
Rhiannon was already in her seat, in the first row in front of the stage, when Darius Simonides rose to preside over the council. He knocked his gavel on the podium twice, calling the room to order. Rhiannon looked around as conversation died down to whispers and then disappeared altogether.
The room was filled with vampires from every walk of life. Many were in film and TV in one way or another: producers, directors, actors, agents, sound men, electricians, costume designers, set designers, script writers, musicians and more. There were also bankers, ad execs, waiters and waitresses, shop owners and other businessmen and women. In a way, she mused, it almost looked like a PTA meeting, except that some in attendance were very young and some were very old.
“Welcome to this convention of our people,” Darius said. “First, may I please have the minutes from our last meeting?”
The minutes were read. The last meeting—the last one her father had attended—had apparently been very dull. They had talked about sources for blood, most of which were slaughterhouses, and employment opportunities. A party was being planned for Halloween, and the discussion had centered on the date, since many vampires had previous commitments on the holiday itself.
Darius asked for old business, which was equally boring.
New business came next. A banker had ordered blood from a new venue and found it to be very high quality. A woman stood up and announced that she was purchasing land on the outskirts of Santa Barbara, and planned on cattle ranching. Someone else suggested a summer party.
Seriously, a PTA meeting would have been exciting in comparison, Rhiannon thought.
Except that it was very likely one of the seemingly normal vampires in attendance was a killer.
At last Darius brought up the most pressing piece of new business. “You all know that we’ve had to say goodbye to Piers Gryffald,” he said, and his words were greeted with a groan. “But I’m happy to say that the new Keeper of the Canyon vampire society is here with us tonight, fresh, young, beautiful—and ready to take on her duties and become an integral part of our brother and sisterhood. I present Miss Rhiannon Gryffald.”
She was greeted with hearty applause, but since it would have been rude of them to welcome her in any other way, she didn’t read too much into that.
Rhiannon left her seat. Darius met her at the stairs and politely escorted her up.
“Thank you all for that cordial welcome, and thank you all as well for your show of warmth for my father. I know we’ll all miss him while he serves the Otherworld in his new capacity.”
Those words were followed by more applause. She lifted a hand.
“There is a grave matter facing our membership at this very moment,” she announced, making sure that her voice rang loud and clear. “The police have found three bodies that show signs of vampire attack. We’re lucky that, so far, the medical examiner who has handled all three autopsies is Dr. Anthony Brandt, a fellow member of the Otherworld. So far the press has taken very little interest in the case, though that may change soon, so we need to be prepared for rumors of a murderer imitating a vampire when he kills.”
A man in a typical banker’s suit stood. “Why haven’t we heard anything about this before?” he demanded. “Why has there been no report of the murders at all?”
“There have been reports. But the dead were John Does, and their deaths were relegated to the back of the paper. Additionally, some details of the crimes have been withheld by the police,” Rhiannon said. A discontented murmuring started, and she knew she had to nip it in the bud.
“So,” she announced loudly, her voice ringing with authority, “as we all know, there are members of the human race who believe that vampires exist, and others who know they do, so it is certainly possible that a human being is using this method of murder to make the killings appear to be the work of a vampire. I want you to know that I’m your greatest champion. I know that you and the other members of the vampire community just want to survive and pursue your dreams. And I want you all to be aware that I will find out the truth of these murders in conjunction with other members of the greater Otherworld. If a vampire is guilty of these attacks—attacks that put the entire community in danger—that vampire will face the greatest punishment we are authorized to mete out.” She paused and looked around the room. “Total extinction. Don’t believe for a moment that I will not fulfill my duties to the letter of our mutual law, or that I will shirk in any way when it comes to protecting those who are innocent. I strongly suggest that anyone who knows anything tells me what they know, so they won’t suffer along with the murderer.”
She stood for a moment, staring out over the now silent crowd.
“It has to be a human!” someone in the audience said. “We’re happy here. Why would we kill anyone?”
“As I said, it is possible that a human being is the killer,” Rhiannon said. “And that possibility will be investigated. But a vampire attempted to attack my cousin at the House of the Rising Sun last night,” she said. “That vampire is now ash. Be assured that I will not tolerate any attack on myself, my home or my family, and that transgressors will die without benefit of interrogation. If anyone knows anything about this attack, I need to know what you know. At the same time, if there is any threat to this community, I will just as aggressively seek to protect those of you who are innocent. But I will not forget what happened last night, and I won’t stop until I have an answer.” She paused again, looking around the room. “I am my father’s daughter. Please don’t believe that my justice will be any less swift. In the meantime, I am available whenever I’m needed by any one of you, just as my father was before me. In closing—if you find that you’re missing a friend or acquaintance, please come to me. Because there is a pile of ash at my house that was once one of you.”
She turned to Darius, who was staring at her, as stunned as the others. She smiled and said, “Thank you, Darius. I look forward to a long and mutually beneficial relationship with all of you—again, just as my father enjoyed before me.”
Darius didn’t offer her a hand back to her seat. It didn’t matter. She was perfectly capable of walking down a few steps on her own.
She was sure that Darius had originally planned to say more, but he seemed tongue-tied. Finally he banged the gavel on the podium. “This meeting of the Canyon vampire community is hereby dismissed!”
He came down the steps in a hurry. Rhiannon was certain he had a lot to say to her—no doubt he intended to chastise her for alienating the community from the get-go.
But she certainly hadn’t alienated them all, because a lot of people came up to her to shake her hand and say they were glad she was going to take a firm stand. Others remembered her from when she was younger and spoke to her about her family, while some just wanted to welcome her.
Jerry Oglethorpe came over, studying her gravely. “Good start, Miss Gryffald.”
“Thank you, Jerry. And while I have you, a magician who bills himself as the Count de Soir was performing at the Snake Pit the other night. He invited his entire audience here on Sunday night. Does that have any bearing on my case?”
“The Count de Soir—he’s Elven,” Jerry said.
“I know that. He told me that he saw Merlin—remember, Ivan Schwartz, the magician who owned the House of the Rising Sun—in a dream. And that Merlin told him to help me,” Rhiannon said.
“Of course I remember Merlin,” Oglethorpe said. “He was one of the finest magicians—and men—I ever knew. I don’t know whether the count’s invitation has anything to do with your case, though. He is performing Sunday night. I’ll reserve a table for you.”
“Thank you, Jerry. We’ll be here—my cousins and I. And probably a friend,” Rhiannon said.
Darius came up to her then. “My, my, Miss Gryffald. That was rather...hostile.”
She shook her head. “I’m not being hostile, Darius. I am here to fight for the rights of the vampires, but someone out there is putting the entire vampire race at risk with these killings. If I don’t find the truth, his actions will eventually bring down our entire house of cards. That’s why it’s so important that this community understand that I’m not a figurehead.”
“You’ve certainly created a stir.”
“Across all species in the Otherworld,” she said. “The matter is being brought up at two other council meetings tonight, perhaps more.” She paused. “Darius, my cousin was attacked last night in her own home. And it wasn’t by any wannabe vampire. This was the real thing.”
“Male or female?”
“I don’t know—it was a very old vampire. No messy organ tissue left at all—except for a few bones, the intruder turned entirely to ash.”
“Male, then, for the sake of conversation,” Darius said. “Which of your cousins did he come after?”
“He attacked Sailor when she was sleeping.”
“Sailor?” Darius said, sounding surprised.
He knows something! Rhiannon thought.
“Yes. Darius, if you know anything—”
“Don’t you use that tone with me, young lady!” he said. “If I could prevent danger to anyone, I would. Especially Sailor. She is my godchild.”
He turned and walked away from her. Jerry Oglethorpe looked at her and shrugged. “Rhiannon, Darius is old guard. He’s not just powerful in our community. He’s extremely powerful in Hollywood and the entire film business. He’s just huffy because you wounded his pride, saying what you did without consulting him first.”
“Thanks, Jerry. Well, I guess I’m headed to the Snake Pit,” she said.
He grinned. “I’ll be there eventually myself. This is a big night for all of us Others. There’s been a lot of anticipation and excitement about you and your cousins taking over as Keepers, you know. Anyway—” he smiled “—I’ll see you there. Be careful on the drive over, okay?”
“Why?” she asked sharply.
“Okay, Rhiannon, now you’re sounding paranoid. Be careful on the drive because it’s late and this is L.A., where way too many people drive drunk, and drunk or sober, everyone drives at eighty and changes lanes without signaling. Okay?”
She smiled. “Yes, Jerry, okay. And thank you.”
She left the House of Illusion and was approaching her car when she heard someone behind her. Instinct sent shivers up her spine, and she spun quickly to assess the threat.
It was the actress Audrey Fleur. She clapped as Rhiannon turned. “Bravo, Miss Gryffald. Wonderful speech.”
“Thank you,” Rhiannon said, even though she was well aware that the other woman was being sarcastic.
“Terribly distressing, of course,” Audrey said. She walked over and leaned against Rhiannon’s Volvo. “It was so upsetting last night when that poor man started asking about his lover. I’m assuming he’s one of the dead?”
“Yes.”
“Do you think that a rogue vampire would really defy your authority?” Audrey asked, her eyes wide, her voice scared—but a smile was playing over her lips.
“I don’t actually know much of anything yet, Audrey. When I do, everyone will learn what I learn. I’ll call a special session of the council if necessary.”
“Wow! You really think you’re that good?”
“I intend to be.”
“Well, bravo once again. See you at the Snake Pit,” Audrey said, pushing away from the Volvo and starting toward her own car. She turned back. “Oh, by the way, do be careful. Keepers have been killed in the past, and we would never want anything so horrible happening to you.”
Rhiannon stared after Audrey and wondered if the woman really did hate Sailor for “stealing” her role. Because if she hated Sailor, she might hate them all.
But they’d killed the vampire who attacked Sailor last night.
And it obviously hadn’t been Audrey, since she was definitely alive—or rather, undead—and kicking.
She got into her Volvo and looked at the clock in the dash. 1:00 a.m. The meeting had lasted nearly two hours, she noted. As she drove, she replayed events in her mind.
Last night they had killed a vampire. Maybe that had been the vampire, the one killing human beings and draining their blood. She needed to ask Brodie about that theory, see if maybe he thought they had come to the end of it. Of course, they didn’t know who the dead vampire had been....
Or if he’d been working with anyone else.
She pulled onto the freeway. This being L.A., there were plenty of other cars; some sped by her, and some she passed. No big deal either way, since the Snake Pit was only a few exits away.
She had just taken the exit ramp when she felt a huge jolt on the roof, as if a pterodactyl had landed.
She fought with the steering wheel to keep the car under control, almost veering into the steel guardrail but managing to straighten the wheels just before she swerved into it.
She reached the end of the ramp and turned onto the street. Luckily the Snake Pit was just a few blocks ahead.
The thing slammed onto the top of the car again, sending her careening onto the sidewalk. She heard the undercarriage of the Volvo rip over the curb and managed to steer back onto the street just before crashing into a boutique.
Shaking, terrified, she delved desperately into her mind for some idea as to what to do, and then she knew. She had only one choice, and it was a choice she’d never imagined she would have to make.
She should have practiced more often, should have listened to her father.
Oh, Lord, she should have started as soon as this case began.
She slammed to a halt and sat there for a long moment. It would come again, she knew.
It could be anything, an Elven, a werewolf, a vampire, or, a shapeshifter, with its ability to become anything at all....
Shapeshifters lost strength when they shifted. Werewolves could only rip and tear when they changed into the beast they were at heart. Elven might be powerful, but they would always be Elven, the least aggressive of the races. And vampires...well, she could be a vampire, too.
And so she straightened and willed herself to change. She felt her fangs growing, her canine teeth elongating, and she felt the strength growing in her limbs.
She got out of the car and looked around, saw nothing.
A Buick drove by. The young couple in it stared at her, and the man hit the gas.
“I know you’re out there!” Rhiannon cried. “You’re out there, and you’re a coward, attacking by night. Well, you won’t get me. You won’t get me, and you won’t get my cousins. I will destroy you first, do you hear me? Your reign of terror is over!”
There was no sound at all then. Not even a car drove by.
Shaking, she got back into the driver’s seat.
Had it been Audrey Fleur? Had Audrey been truly threatening her outside the House of Illusion?
She turned the key in the ignition and winced at the sound the car made as she started driving again, then cursed softly. Her car was going to need work.
For a moment it occurred to her that maybe her attacker was trying to frighten her into leaving L.A. or just cowering in her house, too afraid to perform her duties. And then...
Then, when she was weak and beaten, strike again and...
Take over the city? Could it be that simple?
She made her way the last few blocks to the Snake Pit, left her car with the valet and hurried inside.
She saw Brodie sitting in a booth with Sailor and Barrie the minute she arrived. The club was full; it seemed as if everyone from every race had shown up. Of course, since the shifters held their meeting there, they outnumbered everyone else. Piped-in music was playing in the background.
