Taken by the Others (4 page)

“That vampire you just met is the progeny of Max Carlyle. I assume he told you why he was here.”

“Yes, but that’s not what I meant. What’s the big idea, calling me property?”

His smile could have melted the coldest of hearts. “Simply that. You and I are contractually bound rather than by blood or bond, but the old ways still apply. Long before these courts and contracts came about, any vampire binding a human was considered to have staked a claim that other vampires had to respect. It’s simply not done to harm or feed upon a human claimed by another vampire without his permission. You would not take your neighbor’s dog or housecat and do harm to it. You might play with it, but you certainly wouldn’t kill it or take it from its owner without permission. Do you see?”

I’m pretty sure my face must have registered some incredulity. He was comparing human servants to the family dog? He sighed at my speechless reaction and continued.

“I’m not saying that it is right or fair for humans to be considered this way. It is simply how it has always been done. To be bound to one of us is also considered an honor. It means that person has the benefit of the protection of the one who chose them and that they are being considered as a candidate for being turned. Since we are bound by the contract, you are ‘taken territory,’ so to speak. It puts you off limits as food or sport by anyone else since you are, by our laws, my property.” He paused thoughtfully before giving voice to a little laugh, amused by his own thoughts. “Though in this case I suppose ownership goes both ways, considering those little changes you made to the contract. An interesting and novel concept, though I don’t see how you might take any advantage of it.”

Great. Just great. Shaking my head, I stalked to the couch and sat down, folding my arms over my knees as I leaned forward to watch him. “Okay, you know, I’m not going to debate the morality of the subject with you, but I want to make one thing crystal clear. We have a working relationship. I will never be bound to you or anyone else by anything more than paper. Understand?”

He regarded me thoughtfully for a time, head tilted slightly to one side. That look from those black eyes was intense enough that I wondered if he now saw me for who I really was; not just another threat or conquest. He nodded and approached, settling himself with that enviable, centuries-practiced grace on the other side of the couch. “I understand.”

Somewhat mollified, I eased back into the couch cushions. He was a lot of things, but not a liar. Since he seemed to respect my stance on the matter, I trusted him to play nice for the time being. “Good. So what can you tell me about Max Carlyle? Any idea why he sent a flunky out to play fetch?”

“He considers you responsible for the death of one of his latest creations. Through your actions, he also holds me accountable.”

I stared blankly. Royce gestured at the gun I’d almost forgotten lying on the table. “Surely you remember Anastasia Alderov?”

“What?” Confusion assailed me. “You mean he made her a vampire? How could he hold me responsible for that when you were the one who threw her to the Weres? Completely aside from being batshit crazy, she betrayed him when she hooked up with David Borowsky. That’s not my fault!”

He smiled thinly, though there was no humor there. “Yes, he made her a vampire. He may not know about her treachery. His information about what happened that night was probably limited to what was in the papers or on the Internet. Perhaps the police report. You should know that we are not allies by any stretch of the imagination. Since I was the only other vampire present and I can almost guarantee that no Were who was there that night would have divulged what happened, he couldn’t possibly get a firsthand report. He probably assumed from the data at hand that you were the one who killed her. Particularly as it is public knowledge now that you are bound to me, and some of the pictures in the news showed you garbed as a hunter. He would have recognized the belt you were wearing at the time for what it was and thought you were fighting her under my orders. Also, as I said, I’m not entirely sure that he understands that Anastasia betrayed him. Even if he did know, I can tell you that he’d take any excuse to undermine my authority and reputation.”

“Peachy keen. So why did he send rocks-for-brains to drag me off? I thought you said when a vampire claims a person, they’re under their protection and others have to lay off?”

“Precisely so. The exception to this rule is when violence is committed between one vampire and another, whether or not it was justified. Since he thinks that you or I killed Anastasia, he wants recompense for the grievance and sees doing harm to you as that recompense. However, he went far out of line by trying to take you. You see, he has no solid proof that either of us were responsible for the loss of his progeny. All he can be sure of is that we were involved somehow. Due to that, he probably thought to take you so that he could use you as leverage in negotiations to get me to give him something he wants.”

I rolled my eyes. “Sure, that makes all kinds of sense. Vampire politics are ridiculous, you know that?”

He laughed and leaned back in the couch. One hand brushed those shoulder-length raven tendrils out of his eyes so he could regard me fully, resting his other elbow against the back of the couch and knuckles under his jaw as humor sparkled in his eyes. He looked like he was posing for a photo shoot. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say he was being flirtatious. “I can see where others might think so. We tend to stick to our ways since that’s what has worked to keep the majority of us alive for so long.”

I pursed my lips in thought, wondering why he was being so accommodating and what was in it for him. He was being far too casual and nice to me tonight. What did he expect to get from me?

“Are you the exception to the rule then?” I asked, hoping this was a safe topic. “You’re the one who decided it was such a great idea to follow in Rohrik Donovan’s footsteps and get people to see the warm, fuzzy-bunny side of vampires after all.”

I’d always been curious why Royce had been the one to reveal the existence of vampires to the world. Rohrik Donovan, the leader of New York City’s largest pack of werewolves, had been the first Other to openly declare himself as such. He and his pack, the Moonwalker tribe, helped search for survivors in the rubble of the Twin Towers after September 11, 2001. Shortly after, Royce pulled a similar stunt at a press conference and demonstrated that he was no pretender with caps from a dentist and too many role-playing games under his belt. He’d managed to prevent widespread panic by the charitable contributions of his coven and offers of aid to the families of those affected by the terrorist attacks.

Royce was one of a very few elder vampires who was open to being interviewed or approached. He was often found at charity auctions, theater and restaurant openings, political rallies, and other events that might attract media attention. It didn’t make him any less dangerous, of course, but his actions seemed to help the overall public image of vampires. Yet considering what I knew of him, it was odd that he would put himself at such risk; being out in the open meant hunters like the White Hats could find him that much easier.

He opened his mouth to answer me, but there was a heavy pounding on the door that cut him off. “Police! Open up!”

I sighed. “Here we go.”

Chapter 5

“It’s okay, the bad guy is gone!” I shouted as I hopped to my feet and went to the door.

Two of New York’s finest were waiting on the other side with hands on the butts of their guns, looking alert but relieved. They were probably thanking their lucky stars they wouldn’t have to deal with a vamp attack.

“Everything okay here, ma’am?” one asked.

“Yeah. Thanks for coming, but you missed the action,” I said. I noted that his eyes widened in surprise and looked back over my shoulder, starting slightly when I saw how close Royce was behind me. Jeez, he moved like a ghost. A fast ghost. Gave me the willies. Both officers instantly had their weapons out and pointed at him.

“Hands up! Get away from her now!”

“Move it!”

Not having anticipated that reaction, I quickly spread my arms out and tried to shout loudly enough over their shouting so they could hear me. “Wait, wait, wait! This isn’t the vampire who attacked me! Hold on!”

Royce did what they ordered and lifted his hands, slowly backing away from me. He looked more amused than upset or frightened, which ticked me off. If he hadn’t been acting all creepy behind me, the police wouldn’t be on the verge of shooting him. His amusement with their reactions was more irritating than anything. Did he ever take anything seriously?

One of the two officers, D. BOWMAN by his name tag, slid around me into the apartment and kept his gun trained on Royce. He was a big guy, but he moved pretty well and knew what he was doing. I stepped aside to give the other officer more room, praying they weren’t so jumpy that they had itchy trigger fingers. “This isn’t the same vampire, you said? Wait a sec. You look familiar.”

“No, it’s not the same vampire,” I said, some exasperation trickling out despite my better intentions. “This is Alec Royce.”

The other cop blinked and turned to look at me, his weapon slowly lowering. “Did you say Alec Royce?”

“Yes,” Royce put in, that same bemused smile curving his lips. “That’s me.”

“Jesus, Derek, put down your gun,” the first cop exclaimed as he quickly holstered his piece. “So sorry for the mix-up, Mr. Royce. Is everything okay here?”

The other cop looked confused–and then recognition dawned. His jaw dropped, and he had to try twice to get his gun in the holster as he backed up. He was gaping at the vampire while his partner was thinking fast and trying to do a PR salvage of the situation.

Royce lowered his hands, patting the nearer officer on the shoulder. Judging by how he flinched, the vamp might as well have touched him with a hot iron. “Not to worry, you’re just doing your jobs. I’d be happy to give you a statement and cooperate in any way you deem necessary.”

I watched this unfold, nonplussed. Royce had the NYPD in his pocket, too? I knew he was influential and well known, but this was crazy. You’d think they’d pulled a gun on the mayor by the way the two were reacting, going from bristling protectors of the damsel who wasn’t exactly in distress anymore to suave politicians trying to smooth any of the big bad vampire’s potentially ruffled feathers.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but would you come this way so I can take your statement?” Officer Bowman asked with just a little too much strained politeness, stirring me out of my thoughts. When I nodded assent, he led me across the room. He pulled a pad of paper and a pen from his shirt pocket to take notes, speaking quietly. “Sorry about all this, we didn’t realize that Mr. Royce would be here. Can I get your name, and what happened exactly?”

I glanced at the other officer, who was chatting with Royce like they were old buddies from high school or something. Rolling my eyes, I proceeded to tell Officer Bowman what happened. “My name is Shiarra Waynest. Another vampire showed up shortly before Royce did. When I opened the door, the other vamp tried to grab me, but I managed to keep away.” Easier to explain it that way than to enlighten him about the intricacies of the metaphysical shields on my door. “He said his name was Peter and he was trying to take me to see someone named Max Carlyle.”

“Max Carlyle? Any idea who that is or what he wants with you?”

“I wish I knew,” I said, keeping as straight a face as I could. All I had right now was conjecture. I wasn’t going to tell him anything about the little party I’d crashed or the details about Anastasia’s death. What the police already knew was all that I, Royce, and the Weres who had been present were willing to give on the subject.

The cop stared at me for a sec, his gaze taking on that flinty, steely look that said, “I know you’re lying to me.” I stared right back, not giving an inch. I’d done this routine with the cops enough times in my line of work to know when to talk, and when to keep my mouth shut. Plus, I knew I didn’t have any other information that would be useful to their investigation.

“You’re sure there’s nothing, no connection between you and this Carlyle guy?”

I shrugged, gesturing at Royce. “He’s a vamp, maybe he knows something about it. I don’t have a clue what Max Carlyle wants with me.” That much was true, at least.

He took some more notes, more than what I’d said. I wondered idly what he was writing down, hiding a yawn with my hand. It was way past my bedtime.

“Okay. So what happened after he told you what he wanted?”

“That’s about the time Royce arrived and scared him off.”

Officer Bowman nodded, rubbing the five o’clock shadow on his chin before jotting down what I’d said on his notepad. I gave a description of Peter, answering the rest of his questions as accurately as I could, though there wasn’t much more I knew beyond what I’d already said. He did ask a couple different ways for some hint of a connection to Max, but I didn’t know what else to tell him. I’d never seen the guy, couldn’t give a physical description, and had no idea where he was from or why he was trying to get his hands on me.

Royce had finished talking to the other officer by the time I wrapped up my statement. I walked the two policemen to the door.

“Thanks again, Officers. Hope you find that guy and get him off the streets.”

The one who had been taking Royce’s statement nodded, tipping his hat at me. “We’ll put out an APB on the vamp. I’m going to arrange for a security detail to keep watch on your apartment for the next couple days in case he takes another go at you. Is your office building where you work secure, or will you need some assistance there as well?”