Cloud City (Anna Strong Vampire Chronicles) (6 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

From the corner of my eye, I see Prendergast inching his way toward the door.

Sophie sees it, too.

“Oh, you don’t want to go, Steven,” she purrs. “Remember, this is mainly for your benefit. And when it’s done, you can be the one to correct the family history you’re so bent on protecting.”

He looks at me. “What does she mean?”

“Don’t ask me. I’m just like you. Along for the ride.”

My tone is deriding but one look at her setting out candles and crystals on the five points of a star hand drawn on the floor of a bar and I understand his instinct to get the hell away from Sophie.

“How did she get you here?”

His eyes flick to her. “She said she’d make it worth my time.”

So he came because of greed. Should have known.

What about me? What am I doing here? There’s concern for Jonathan of course, and my curiosity to see how she’s going to pull this off. Truthfully, the opportunity to meet and talk with Leticia peaks my interest, too.

Then vampire tempers my enthusiasm with a quiet reminder.

Sophie hates all vampires. Be on guard. Make sure she doesn’t intend to send you off with Jonathan. Remember: magic always exacts a price.

Points well taken.

Sophie is finishing her preparations. She looks up once at Prendergast, notices the furrowed brow and the way he’s tapping a nervous left foot. “Get a drink,” she tells him. “It may help you relax.”

His expression is at first leery, but within two seconds, he’s behind the bar and uncapping a bottle of scotch. He fills a tumbler and takes a long pull.

“Take it easy,” Sophie says, standing. “I said I wanted you relaxed, not comatose.”

Prendergast pays her no heed. At his third pull, Sophie takes the glass from his hand and leads him to the star, beckoning me to follow.

She positions us around the star, each of us between a point, close but not touching. She waves a hand and the candles ignite. I see Prendergast’s shoulders jump and have to suppress a smile.

He ain’t seen nothing yet.

Sophie begins to chant. A low, melodious tune that is mesmerizing in its simplicity. Her volume neither increases nor decreases and yet it’s as if the music fills the room, becoming a fourth presence that is tangible. Then it is more than perception as a mist swirls around us, moving to the rhythm of Sophie’s voice. The mist takes on all the colors of the rainbow, mirrored in the crystals now shining like golden orbs on the floor.

My breath catches. It’s so beautiful. Fear for Jonathan, the possibility of danger, all fade. I’m transfixed by what I see. Music you can touch. My hand lifts, fluttering through the mist, causing ripples that ebb and flow like the tide before settling once again into their original patterns.

The cadence of Sophie’s chant quickens, the pitch drops. The mist changes, too. Primary colors fade, replaced by shades of charcoal and grey. There’s a chill in the room now. An edge that has a dampening effect on the mind as well as the body.

A shudder shakes my shoulders. I’m aware of Sophie next to me. When I look at her, she has her arms outstretched. Her eyelids flutter. I want to grab her, shake her. There is danger here. This is what vampire reminded me of.  

Before I can move, the crystals spark, bursting into flame. They form a circle, so close heat singes my feet, forcing me to take a step back. Prendergast jumps back, too. Sophie alone stands with the flames licking at her feet and ankles. She doesn’t flinch. Only her voice changes, rising with the flames, intoning a command.

There is a blinding flash as the flames leap upward followed by a crack that shakes the floor and reverberates like thunder.

Prendergast claps his hands to his ears.

I can’t move, frozen by the specter that appears in the circle of flame.

A girl with an hourglass figure and long blonde curls.

She blinks at us, confused, shielding her eyes from the blinding light surrounding her.

It’s not until the light fades and the flames retreat into their crystal orbs that she lowers her hand and stares out.

“How the hell did I get here?” she says. “And who the fuck are you people?”

CHAPTER TWELVE

Not the first words I expected out of Leticia’s mouth just as I did not expect a modern woman dressed in a skintight black sheathe and Jimmy Choos.

Guess Leticia has not gone to the afterlife—whatever that is—unless it’s complete with designer boutiques and high-end shoe stores. I look at Sophie to see if she’s disappointed.

Sophie stands quietly, a smile of accomplishment brightening her face. She looks at Prendergast. “Here’s your great-grandmother, Steven. Say hello.”

But before he can give voice to the astonishment reflected on his face, Leticia zeroes in on me.

“Vampire. Did you bring me here?”

I shake my head and point to Sophie. “Nope. She did.”

Credit should be given where it’s due.

Leticia spins on those stilettos. Her sheathe is backless, plunging to the base of her spine. I stare while she skewers Sophie with a glare. “Why, witch?”

Sophie, in turn, points to Prendergast. “Your great-grandson wanted to meet you.”

A squeak erupts from Prendergast’s throat. “Are you a ghost?”

“Do I look like a ghost?”

“But how--?” Perspiration makes his face shine in the candlelight. “How is it possible?”

Sophie grunts. “She’s a vampire, remember? Isn’t that the reason we’re here?”

As Sophie talks, Leticia is looking around. At first, it’s in a vacant, curious sort of way. But soon the light of recognition flickers in her eyes. She walks to the bar, runs a hand along the polished mahogany rails. She breathes in sharply. “Where am I?”

“Look at the pictures on the wall,” Sophie replies. “It’ll come to you.”

Leticia crosses the room. She pauses beneath each gilded frame as if memorizing the images.

“How long has it been since you’ve been here?” I ask.

Her voice is tight with emotion. “Well over a hundred years.”

“Do you remember much about your time in Leadville?”

“Leadville?” She half turns to look at me. “What’s that?”

I flash to my tutorial in the library this morning. “That’s right. When you lived here it was called Cloud City.”

“And they changed the name to Leadville? Why on earth did they do that?”

“It’s a long story,” Sophie says, stepping between us. “And we don’t have time for it now. If you and Anna want to discuss it later, I’m sure she’ll be happy to fill you in.”

Leticia nods in my direction. “Anna?”

“Anna Strong.”

She tilts her head to look at me, a subtle shift in the set of her shoulders. “
The
Anna Strong?”

Again, Sophie takes a step toward Leticia. “You have to tell your great-grandson what happened between you and Jonathan Deveraux.”

This time the shift is more obvious, decidedly negative, and aimed at Sophie. “What do you know about Jonathan Deveraux?”

Prendergast finally finds his voice. “He was the vampire that turned you. He stole the family fortune and had you run out of town.”

Leticia looks at Prendergast with a mixture of incredulity and disdain. “Wherever did you hear that?”

“It’s been a family legend for over a century. How becoming a vampire cost you everything—a family that loved you, your money, even your son. You were banished, never to be heard from again. Deveraux was responsible.”

Leticia clucks her tongue. “Who told you that? The Prendergast side of the family? It’s bullshit. All of it.”

“Why don’t you tell him the truth, Leticia?” Sophie’s voice is soft, throaty as if she can hardly wait for Prendergast’s illusion to be shattered.

“I know the truth,” he snaps. “Deveraux took advantage of an innocent young girl. He corrupted her. Turned her into a demon. Our family has lived in the shadow of the scandal for as long as I can remember.”

 Leticia throws her head back and laughs. “Oh my god,” she says when she’s caught her breath. “You are delusional.” She turns to Sophie. “Where did you find this clown?”

Prendergast bristles, tripping over his words in his fervor to object. “It’s true. My grandmother wrote it all in a journal. We should have been heir to a mining fortune. Your fortune. But it was stolen and the family name disgraced. I’m here to get our money back. And to set the record straight. You should be grateful.”

Leticia’s face darkens with anger. I recognize vampire close to the surface and my defenses are immediately on alert.

She flashes bared teeth. “
Your
money? Would you like to know how I made
your
money?”

Prendergast nods, a nervous, jerky head bob that is more acquiescence to a command then willing assent.

Leticia moves to stand at the middle of the bar. “It was here. In this building. There was no family mining operation. My family disowned me. Took my son. I was run out of town, all right, but it was Boston, not Cloud City. All because I fell in love with a handsome man who promised me the world. He gave it to me, too.”

“Deveraux,” Prendergast says.

“Not Deveraux,” Leticia counters. “Another. And he brought me to Cloud City and we set up business. Want to know what kind of business, great-grandson? I ran a whorehouse. The best in the county. I sold whiskey and girls and business was good. I made more money than the miners who came stinking of dirt and sweat. They came to fuck pretty young things who smelled of lavender and rose blossoms and to drop their week’s wages into my willing hands.
That’s
how I made my fortune.
My
fortune. Deveraux had nothing to do with it.” 

Prendergast isn’t ready to let go of a hundred-fifty years of family legend. “I don’t believe you. Why would everyone lie?”

Leticia laughs again, this time it’s cold, hard and completely without mirth. “Because they were ashamed of the way they treated me. Why do you think I turned to the only man in town who didn’t treat me like a soiled dove because I had a child and no husband?”

“But you were a widow,” he says.

“A
grass
widow,” she corrects. “Do you know what that means?”

He looks confused so she continues. “I was engaged to a man, a wealthy farmer on the outskirts of town. We intended to marry. He died before we could. But I was already pregnant. That just wasn’t done in those days. Neither his family nor mine accepted the child.”

“Your mother raised him,” Prendergast reminds her.

“After they kicked me out. And only because she hoped someday his father’s family would come around. Make him heir to his father’s land. They didn’t.”

“So you turned to a
vampire
?” He spits the word.

Leticia moves faster than human eyes can follow. She grabs his shirt and pulls his face close to hers, close to her vampire face. “A vampire worth a hundred of you, worm.”

Flashing teeth and yellow eyes burn with the desire to end this discussion once and for all, to end the life of this long-lost relative, to sever the ties that bound her to a human family who caused her so much pain a lifetime ago and still lies about her.

I read her intentions. She’s opened her mind to me. She’s issuing an invitation.

Inviting me to join in the kill.

Don’t, Leticia. He’s not worth it.

She pulls a whimpering Prendergast closer, nuzzling his neck.
What difference does that make? He’s a meat puppet. A stupid one at that.

It’s Sophie who breaks the tension. “Don’t kill him yet, Leticia,” she says. “Tell him about Jonathan Deveraux.”

Leticia releases her grip on Prendergast and sends him crashing against the bar. He slithers down and lands on his ass with an undignified jolt. He’s so relieved to be free, he doesn’t protest.

Leticia turns her wrath on Sophie. “Listen, witch, Jonathan Deveraux is none of your business. You’ve had your fun. Impressed your friends with your little parlor trick. Now send me home or it will be the last spell you ever cast.”

“You’re wrong,” Sophie says calmly. “He is my business. In fact, would you like to speak with him?”

Leticia stares at her. “That’s not possible. He was killed. A year ago. Murdered by his wife. If I hadn’t heard that she disappeared soon after, I would have gone after her myself.”

“All true,” Sophie says. “By the way, you haven’t asked my name.”

“Why would I care what your name is?”

“You should care. I’m the one who helped Jonathan get rid of his wife—his widow. You might say Jonathan and I have been together ever since.”

Leticia shakes her head. “If he was alive, I’d know it. We had a special bond.”

“Because you were his sire?”

Prendergast groans from his place on the floor. “No.”

Leticia ignores him, eyes locked on Sophie. “You wouldn’t know that unless Jonathan told you. Where is he?”

Sophie touches the middle of her chest with a closed fist. “He’s here.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

The room is suddenly colder as Leticia moves to stand in front of Sophie. “Explain yourself, witch.”