Magic Graves (20 page)

Both of the older guys in the next booth were armed. The closer one carried a short sword, which he put on the seat next to him. As his friend reached for the salt shaker, his sweatshirt hugged a gun in the side holster.

Past them in the far right corner, four women in their thirties laughed too loud - probably tipsy. On the other side a family with two teenage daughters cooked their food on the grill. The older girl looked a bit like Julie. Two business women, another family with a toddler, and an older couple rounded off the patrons. No threats.

The air swirled with delicious aroma of meat cooked over open fire, sautéed garlic, sweet spice. My mouth watered. I hadn't eaten since grabbing some bread this morning from a street vendor. My stomach actually hurt.

A waiter in a plain black pants and a black T-shirt led us to a table in the middle of the floor. Curran and I took chairs opposite one another- I could see the back door and he had a nice view of the front entrance. We ordered hot tea. Thirty seconds later it arrived with a plate of pot stickers.

"Hungry?" Curran asked.

"Starving."

"Combination platter for four," Curran ordered.

His hungry and my hungry were two different things.

The waiter departed. Curran smiled. It was a happy genuine smile and it catapulted him from attractive into irresistible territory. He didn't smile very often in public. That intimate smile was usually reserved for private moments when we were alone.

I reached over, pulled the band off my braid, and slid my fingers through it, unraveling the hair. Curran's gaze snagged on my hands. He focused on my fingers like a cat on a piece of foil pulled by a string. I shook my head and my hair fell over my shoulders in a long dark wave. There we go. Now we were both private in public.

Tiny gold sparks danced in Curran's grey irises. He was thinking dirty thoughts and the wicked edge in his smile made me want to slide next to him and touch him.

We had to wait. I was pretty sure that having hot sex on the floor of Arirang would get us banned for life. Then again, it might be worth it..

I raised my tea in a salute. "To our date."

He raised his cup and we clinked them gently against each other.

"So how was your day?" he asked.

"First, I chased a giant jellyfish around through some suburbs. Then I argued with Biohazard about coming and picking it up, because they claimed it was a Fish and Game issue. Then I called Fish and Game and conferenced them into the Biohazard, and then I got to listen to the two of them argue and call each other names. They got really creative. Also the Mercenary Guild is having some sort of arbitration to decide who's in charge and apparently Jim think that I'm supposed to break that tie. Because I am a veteran and the Consort, and the Pack apparently owns some percentage of the Mercenary Guild."

"Not looking forward to it?"

"I'd rather eat dirt. It's between Mark and the veterans led by the Four Horsemen, and they despise each other. They're aren't interested in reaching a consensus. They just want to throw mud at each other over a conference table."

An evil light sparked in his eyes. "You could always go for Plan B."

"Pound everyone to a bloody pulp until they shut up and cooperate?"

"Exactly."

It would make me feel better. "I could always do it your way instead."

Curran raised his blond eyebrows.

"Roar until everyone pees themselves."

A shadow of self-satisfaction flickered on his face and vanished, replaced by innocence. "That's bullshit. I'm perfectly reasonable and I almost never roar. I don't even remember what it feels like to knock some heads together."

The Beast Lord of Atlanta, a gentle and enlightened monarch. "How progressive of you, Your Majesty."

He cracked another grin.

The male necromancer in the booth next to us reached under the table and produced a rectangular rosewood box. Ten to one, there was some sort of jewelry inside.

"Your turn. How did your day go?"

"It was busy and full of stupid shit I didn't want to deal with." Curran drank his tea.

The blond woman opened the box. Her eyes lit up.

"The rats are having some sort of internal dispute over some apartments they bought. Took all day to untangle it. "

The woman plucked a golden necklace from the box. Shaped like an inch and a half segmented collar of pale gold, it gleamed in the feylanthern light.

I poured us more tea. "But you prevailed."

"Of course." He drank his tea. "You know, we could stay over in the city tonight."

"Why?"

"Because that way we wouldn't have to drive for an hour back to the Keep before we could fool around."

Heh.

A scream jerked me off my feet. In the booth, the blond necromancer clawed at the necklace, gasping for breath. The man stared at her, his face a terrified mask. The woman raked her neck, gouging flesh. With a dried pop, her neck snapped, and she crashed to the floor. The man dove down, pulling at the necklace. "Amanda! Oh my god!"

Past him two pairs of red vampire eyes stared at us through the window.

Oh crap. I pulled Slayer from the sheath on my back. Sensing undead, the pale blade of the enchanted saber perspired, sending wisps of white vapor into the air.

The dull carmine glow of vampire irises flared into vivid scarlet. Shit. The restaurant just updated its menu with fresh human.

Flesh boiled on Curran's arms. Bone grew, muscle twisted like slick ropes, skin clenched the new flesh and sprouted fur, and enormous claws slid from Curran's newly thickened fingers.

The vampires rose off their haunches.

Curran stood up next to me.

I gripped the hilt, feeling the familiar comforting texture. Bloodsuckers reacted to sudden movement, bright lights, loud noises, anything that telegraphed prey. Whatever I did had to be fast and flashy. The blood alone wouldn't do it, not when every table was filled with raw meat.

The window exploded in a cascade of gleaming shards. The vampires sailed through, like they had wings. The left bloodsucker landed on the table, the remnant of the chain hanging from its neck. The right skidded on the slick parquet floor and bumped into another table, scattering the chairs.

I dashed to the left, pulling Slayer as I sprinted. Curran snarled and leaped, covering half the distance to the right bloodsucker in a single powerful jump.

The vamp glared at me. I looked into its eyes.

Hunger.

Like staring into an ancient abyss. Behind the eyes, its mind burned, free of the chain. I wanted to reach out and crush it, like a bug between my fingernails. But doing that would give me away. I might as well give the People a sample of my blood with a pretty bow on it.

I flicked my wrist, making the reflection of feylanterns dance along Slayer's surface. Look. Shiny.

The bloodsucker's gaze locked on the blade. The vamp ducked down, like a dog before the strike, front limbs wide, yellow claws digging into the table. The wood groaned. The chain slipped along the table's edge, clinking.

No way for a neck cut. The chain loop would block the blade.

A high pitched, female scream slashed my eardrums. The vamp hissed, jerking in the direction of the sound.

I jumped on the chair next to the table and thrust sideways and up. Slayer's blade slid between the vamp ribs. The tip met a tight resistance and sliced through it. Hit the heart. Banzai.

The bloodsucker screeched. I let go of the saber. The vamp reared, the Slayer up to the hilt in its rib cage. The undead staggered, pitched over, and crashed to the floor, flopping like a fish on dry land.

To the left, Curran thrust his claws through the flesh under his vamp's shin. The bloody tips of the claws emerged from the back of the bloodsucker's neck. The vamp clawed at him. Curran thrust his monstrous hand deeper, clenched the vamp's neck and tore its head off the body.

Showoff.

He tossed the head aside and glanced at me, checking. The whole thing took about five seconds. Felt like an eternity. We were both in one piece. I exhaled.

The restaurant fell silent, except for the hoarse hissing from the convulsing vampire as my saber liquefied its innards, absorbing the nutrients into the blade and the male necromancer sobbing on the floor.

In the far corner a man swiped his toddler from his high chair, grabbed his wife's hand, and ran out. As one the patrons jumped. Chairs fell, feet pounded, someone gasped. They rushed out of both doors. In a blink the place was empty, save for us and the two necromancers.

I gripped Slayer and pulled. It slid from the body with ease. The edges of the wound sagged and dark brown blood spilled from the cut. I swung and beheaded the vamp with a single sharp stroke.

Curran's arms shrank, streamlining, grey fur melting into his skin. He walked over to the male necromancer, pulled him upright, and shook him once, an expression of deep contempt on his face. I could almost hear the guy's teeth rattle in his skull.

"Look at me.
Look
at me."

The necromancer stared at him, shocked eyes wide, his mouth slack.

I knelt by the female navigator and touched her wrist, keeping away from the neck and the gold band on it. No pulse. The necklace clamped her neck like a golden noose, its color a dark vivid yellow, almost orange. The skin around it was bright red and quickly turning purple.

I picked up her purse, pulled out a wallet and snapped it open. People ID. Amada Sunny, journeyman, Second Tier. Twenty years old and now dead.

Curran peered into the journeyman's face. "What happened? What did you do?"

The man sucked in a deep breath and dissolved into tears.

Curran dropped him in disgust. His eyes were pure gold. He was pissed off out of his mind.

I went to the hostess desk and found the phone. Please work... Dial tone. Yes!

I punched in the office number. Chances were, Andrea was still there.

"Cutting Edge," Andrea's voice said.

"I'm in Arirang. Two navigators were having dinner. The man gave the woman a gold necklace and it strangled her to death. I'm looking at two dead vampires and one human corpse."

"Sit tight. I'll be there in thirty minutes."

I hung up and dialed the Casino.

"Kate Daniels, for Ghastek. Urgent."

"Please wait," female voice said. The phone went silent. I hummed to myself and looked at the ID. I didn't know which of the Masters of the Dead Amanda answered to, but I knew Ghastek was the best of the seven. He was also power-hungry and he was making his bid for taking over the Atlanta's office of the People. He was very much in the limelight at the moment and I could count on a rapid response.

A moment passed. Another.

"What is it, Kate?" Ghastek's voice said into the phone. He must've been doing something, because he failed to keep exasperation from his voice. "Please keep this quick, I'm in the middle of something."

"I have one dead journeywoman, one hysterical journeyman, two dead vampires, one pissed off Beast Lord with bloody hands, and a half a dozen terrified restaurant staff." Quick enough for you?

Ghastek's voice snapped into brisk tone. "Where are you?"

"Arirang on Greenpine. Bring a decontamination unit and body bags."

I hung up. Our waiter edged out of the doors and approached our table, looking green. The rest of the staff were probably huddled together in the back room, terrified, not knowing if it was over.

"Is it over?"

Curran turned to him. "Yes, it's over. The People are on their way to clean up the mess. You can bring your people out, if it will make them feel better. We guarantee your safety."

The waiter took off. Someone shouted. A moment later the doors opened and people ran out: an older Korean man, the older woman who had greeted us, a woman who looked like she could be their daughter and several men and women in waiter garb. The younger woman carried a boy. He couldn't be more than five.

The owners piled up into the booths around us. The boy stared at the two vampires with dark eyes, big like two cherries.

I dropped into the chair next to Curran. He reached over and pulled me close. "I'm sorry about the dinner."

"That's okay." I stared at the dead woman. Twenty years old. She barely had a chance to live. I'd seen a lot of death, but for some reason the site of Amanda laying there on the floor, her boyfriend weeping uncontrollably by her body, chilled me to the bone. I leaned against Curran, feeling the heat of his body seep through my T-shirt. I was so cold and I really needed his warmth.

*** *** ***

A caravan of black SUV's descended onto the parking lot, their enchanted water engines belching thunder. We watched them through the broken window, as the SUVs parked at the far end, killed the noise, and vomited people, vampires, and body bags. Ghastek emerged from the lead vehicle, ridiculously out of place in a black turtleneck and tailored dark pants. He came through the door, surveyed the scene for a second, and headed to us.

Curran's eyes darkened. "I bet you a dollar he's running over to assure me that we're in no danger."

"That's a sucker's bet."

The People were efficient, I gave them that. One crew went for the headless vampire, other headed for the woman's body, the third for the despondent journeyman. Two women and a man in business suits made a beeline for the booth where the owners sat.

Ghastek came close enough to be heard. "I want it to be clear: this was not an attempt to kill either of you. The journeymen weren't supposed to be here and the guilty party will be harshly reprimanded."

Curran shrugged. "Don't worry, Ghastek. If this was an attempt, I know you'd bring more than two vampires."

"What happened?" Ghastek asked.

"They were having dinner," I told him. "They seemed happy together. The boy handed her a necklace and it choked her to death."

"Just so I understand, Lawrence himself wasn't personally injured."

"No," Curran said. "He was in shock from watching his girlfriend die in front of him."

Ghastek looked over the scene again, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. "Once again, we're dreadfully sorry for the inconvenience."