Left for Undead (11 page)

“Agreed. Let’s get out of here. Both Vamps and their
human helpers have obviously ruined the investigation scene, and have even put
the mausoleum back together.”

“But.  ” Sasha looked around the shadowy
locker room. “Dammit. Sunset will be in just a couple of hours and we’ve
literally run around all day and have accomplished nothing.”

“Not true,” Hunter said, guiding her into a shadow.
“We’ve put an offer on the table for the Vampires to consider—”

“Or laugh at.”

“And we’ve alerted the human military.   and
we’ve called in our family to a safe base.” Hunter smoothed her hair back from
her face as they stood in the sanctuary of the shadow path mist. “Sometimes,
Captain, a good retreat is the most logical strategy at the moment.”

“Can you identify this as a talisman or a ward.  
or even tell what kind of snake this is from?” Sasha held out the skin to
Clarissa and Bradley and then gently laid it down on the long lab table while
the rest of the team gathered around.

“Where did you get something like this, Sasha?”
Clarissa said, backing away from it as Bradley leaned in closer, inspecting the
partial skin with a large magnifying glass.

“It doesn’t have the markings of any regional snake I
know.” Bradley looked up. “What I mean is, the scale pattern is uncommon; look
at the depressions in the—”

“Don’t touch it,” Clarissa said, grabbing his arm.
“Nobody touch it.”

“We got it from one of the grave guards’ shirt—a guy
we presume is dead,” Hunter said, his gaze fixed on Clarissa.

“We think this guy either had it on him as some kinda
juju or maybe collected it at the scene, but obviously never got to tell
anybody who cared to hear about it.” Sasha looked from Hunter to Clarissa.
“You’re freaking me out, ’Rissa.”

Doc moved around the table, keeping his hands back but
peering at the specimen closely. “Whatever it is, it came from a huge snake.
This is only a partial, but if you extrapolate the size of the scales.  
man.”

“You give me a diameter and I can run a model to size
the thing,” Winters said, heading toward his temporary computer bay. “I wish
we’d had a little more time to get set up here at the NAS, but if you guys are
tracking giant snakes, then I’m all for the move of being on a military base.”

Woods pounded Fisher’s fist. “Dude, just tell me and
Fish how big that sucker is and we’ll be sure to get artillery that can handle
it.”

“Dude,” Fisher said, shaking his head. “I love this
job, but remind me to tell you over a beer how much I hate this job.”

“It’s not from a normal snake,” Clarissa said, her
blond lashes beginning to flutter.

“The size alone says it’s not normal!” Winters called
out as his fingers flew across the keyboard.

“No,” she said quietly. “This came from something that
resides in Hell.”

“Okay, now I’m officially freaked out,” Winters said
as he stopped typing.

“You’re sure?” Sasha rounded the table and held
Clarissa by her shoulders.

Clarissa nodded. “The energy off it is so dark and so
thick that I almost can’t breathe.”

“That’s enough,” Bradley said, quickly setting down
the magnifying glass and going to Clarissa. “She’d been here before and I swore
that I would never allow her to get caught up in a dark divination that could
jeopardize her life.”

“Come out of the trance, Clarissa,” Sasha said,
beginning to panic as Clarissa swooned.

Doc was immediately at her side and for several
minutes team members took turns calling Clarissa’s name, shaking her, slapping
her cheeks, until she finally came around.

“Get that thing out of here,” Bradley said. His face
was flushed and his expression was stricken as Hunter carefully lifted up the
offending snakeskin and slipped it back into the uniform pocket.

“We need to take this to the Vampires—after we record
it in the United Council of Entities Hall of Records,” Hunter said. “Sir Rodney
and Queen Cerridwen also need to know about this.”

“Good looking out,” Sasha said, and then stared at
Doc. “See if Silver Hawk can hurry here to seal this area with a shaman’s
prayer. If me and Hunter just bird-dogged something that came up from Hell, who
knows what’s gonna happen come sundown.”

They stood in the depths of the Louisiana bayou with a
full Fae retinue at their sides. Swamp sounds of frogs and crickets went still
as the ancient council hall rose from the mud, disturbing gators and other
slithering things that moved in the black water. Then they waited for the old
crone who presided over all matters as a neutral party to exit the columns and
come down the steps. It was a painfully slow process to watch her shuffle along
the wet marble with her huge black book of records under her arthritic arm.

She stopped at the bottom step and glared at those
who’d called her before the sunset, seeming genuinely perturbed at the breach
of protocol.

“Who dares call a session before the moon has arisen?”
she croaked, sending an accusatory glare around the group.

“We do—the North American Shadow Wolf Federation,”
Hunter said, and then motioned with his chin to the book under her arm. “We
have evidence that could avert a war, if it is heeded.”

“Speak!” the crone yelled out, and then flung the
black book into the air.

The book hovered between her and the group and then
opened to a blank page, allowing a raven-feathered quill pen to escape its
pages with a squeal.

“I am a Shadow Wolf, with full silver aura,” Hunter
announced. “Therefore, my testimony requires no blood strike from your pen of
truth.”

“Agreed,” the crone said, now seeming more curious
than annoyed. “Continue.”

“Our allies have been accused of opening Vampire
graves to daylight, but they claim that they are innocent. We, the North
American Shadow Wolf Federation, went to the Vampires today—to the Blood
Oasis—to offer them our assistance in finding out who could have done this. The
Southeast Asian Werewolf Federation is a neutral party and is uninvolved at
this juncture. Then we went to the scene of the last crime, to the cemetery
that once held Monroe Bonaventure, Sixth Viceroy of Cartel Elder Vlad Tempesh.”

Hunter held out the snakeskin for the crone to examine
before he continued on. “We found this in the Vampire human helper’s uniform at
Golden Estates, Mr. Romero, who is now deceased and was killed by his own men,
we presume. This is all we have at the onset of our investigation, but we are
asking the UCE court for more time to investigate before the Vampires are given
free rein to retaliate. At this juncture, we need a go-between to keep the
peace and to keep the business of the supernatural community beyond the eyes of
the already-panicked human population. Open warfare serves no purpose.”

“Aye,” Sir Rodney said, “especially since we are
innocent.”

“So they all say,” the crone muttered. “But if you are
found guilty of the serious offense of opening Vampire graves to daylight
without warrant, there will be no mercy this court can offer. You are aware of
the might and reputation of your adversaries.”

“That we are,” Queen Cerridwen said, lifting her chin.
“But this evidence is strange. I have been blamed because the locks were
shattered by instant freezing.   yet what has a serpent skin from
Hell to do with my so-called handiwork? Something untoward is amiss.”

Grumbles of Fae soldiers’ assent filtered throughout
the dense foliage and even Garth seemed puzzled as the crone fingered the skin
and then held it out for the pen and book to inspect.

“This is a rare artifact, something no human should
have had access to—at least not one living.” The crone calmly folded the skin
up and placed it under the last page of the hovering book. “Let it be entered
into the record that the wolves tracked a very interesting bit of evidence that
requires much further investigation. I personally haven’t seen the skin of an
Erinyes wreath in more than a thousand years.”

Sasha gave Hunter a quizzical look as the Fae
collectively released an audible gasp.

“What’s an Erinyes wreath?” Sasha stared at the crone
and then her gaze ricocheted around to look at the others.

“It came from a type of group of demons also known as
the Furies,” Garth said in a hushed tone. “They are kindred to the Gorgons, but
countless in number.”

“Cousins. The Gorgons have hair made of serpents and
turn an onlooker to stone, but the Erinyes have serpent wreaths in their hair.  
bat wings and avenge the anger of the dead,” the crone remarked casually,
beginning to walk back up the palatial council stairs. She called the book with
a snap of her fingers. “One generally does not see those sharing graves or
victims with Vampires. Yes, all of this is very curious. You may have a case
indeed.”

“Okay, WTF?” Sasha walked in an agitated circle as the
UCE building sank back down into the swamp and disappeared. “Furies,
Erinyes—what’s any of that got to do with the Unseelie or with Vampires?”

“WTF?” Queen Cerridwen asked, looking toward Sir
Rodney for clarity.

“A colloquial human expression,” Sir Rodney replied,
smiling, “one that is a bit off-color, but warranted given the circumstances.”

“How can you even joke at a time like this? Erinyes
may be involved?” Queen Cerridwen paced away. “Do you know how dangerous those
entities are? Surely I have done nothing to provoke them.”

“Of course not,” Sir Rodney said, dismissing the
concept with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “But I am smiling because that
means there is a shadow of doubt regarding your guilt that the Vampires must
take into consideration. The Fae are not the only suspects in this travesty,
and our wolf allies have found out something that should give everyone pause.”

“Let us hope so,” Hunter muttered as he looked up at
the waning sun through the heavy canopy of trees. “We have perhaps a half hour
of daylight remaining, and it is my strong suggestion that we all take cover
until we hear that the Vampires accept a truce during our investigation.”

“Couldn’t agree more.” Sasha whipped out her cell
phone and began dialing with all eyes on her. “I’m going to leave a message at
the Blood Oasis,” she said, waiting for the call to connect to voice mail. As
soon as it did, she began speaking. “This is Sasha Trudeau with an urgent
message for Elder Vlad. Tell him we found an Erinyes wreath serpent skin at the
site of Monroe Bonaventure’s mausoleum today and he can check with the grave
guards at Golden Estates. They know we were there, since they tried to kill
us—just saying. We’ve also entered the find into the hall of records up here at
UCE, so before they blow—”

A Fae archer’s scream stopped Sasha’s words
mid-sentence. The entire group pivoted quickly just in time to see a muscular
stone-hued gargoyle rip open the man’s chest cavity, spilling vital organs and
entrails. Garth pulled out his wand from his robe sleeve in unison with Queen
Cerridwen, each respectively sending blasts of white hot light and ice as they
ran for cover.

Chaos reigned high in the branches. Fae archers
attempted to ward off the gargoyle onslaught with silver-tipped arrows,
alternately ducking and then crouching to fire. But the sky darkened with an
incalculable number of beasts. Sir Rodney was a blur of Fae motion, leaping
into the battle high in the branches, blade drawn to protect his men, and
sending up sparkling shield pulses to ward off the aerial attack.

For a few seconds, Sasha and Hunter could only look up
at the battle taking place above their heads high in the trees. Then several
beasts narrowed their red glowing gazes on Sasha and Hunter, spread their
leathery wings, screeched, and dive-bombed toward them with vicious talons
outstretched.

In less than the time it took to blink, Sasha and
Hunter transformed out of their human forms and into their wolves to leave
their clothes pooled on the ground. Oddly, the gargoyles stopped their aerial
offensive mid-air and simply screeched at both snarling wolves, then turned to
fly off to attack the retreating Fae.

Bounding toward a fallen archer drawn between two
gargoyles, the pair of wolves rushed in trying to save him. But it was too
late. The moment the hissing creatures saw Sasha and Hunter, they flew off in
different directions, ripping the archer in two.

Gore pelted the ground from the air. Sasha’s pristine
silver coat became matted with blood splatter raining down from the trees as
the gargoyles decimated the archers. Hunter moved in and out of the shadows
with Sasha like black lightning, his onyx coat wet with Fae blood, their
mission to cover Sir Rodney, Garth, and Queen Cerridwen while trees fell from
Fae monarch blasts.

Then suddenly the gargoyles pulled back, lifting the
darkness from the bayou to allow in the light of the full moon. Five platinum
blond Vampire sentries touched down silently, protected by translucent dark
energy shields. Their long, flowing tresses lifted off their shoulders from a
supernatural source as static fury coursed down their arms and along their
billowing black leather coats. Then one dark-haired female Vampire baring fangs
slid out of the folds of nothingness to stand by the lead male.