"And what exactly brings you to my city?" Le
Meur asked.
"Business."
"Hmm. If it is a new endeavor that you are
researching, perhaps Realm Management could help you explore the
possibilities. The recompense you owe might be found in a joint
venture."
"Ah, no. Let me clarify; family
business."
"Is that so? Your progeny resides here under
my fair rule? Do you mean . . ."
"All in good time, Lady. When you convene
your subjects, I shall formally present myself and make my reasons
known."
Barnabus found Skala a short time later in
the billiards room, saying that Michael told him what made Ragna go
nuts. Sometime during the day, a car that was eventually found out
to belong to one of Galloway's minions was seen driving through her
domain. The people in that car set out large amounts of poisoned
meat in vacant lots. Almost all of Ragna's pets, plus other animals
attracted by the smell, were dead by the time she woke. I could
easily picture her flipping out about that.
The two continued talking, this time in
English. Barnabus had just asked Skala what he planned to do with
Ragna when Moses Dupree - wearing a new suit - politely interrupted
them. "Excuse me, elder Skala, emissary Merritt. The Doyenne has
called for a convening in the great room."
Hot damn, game on.
CONVENING
As Viggo and I walked down the dark, quiet
street with opulent houses on either side of us, I asked, "What are
my orders, sir?"
He kept his gaze fixed on the Everett mansion
ahead of us. "Stay one step behind me and to my right. If I give an
order, you need not answer - simply do it. Do not speak unless I
ask you a question, and do not reply to anyone else who might
address you directly."
Viggo's shadows of anger hadn't started
dancing again yet, but I was sure it was only a matter of time.
We crossed over onto Everett's lawn and
approached the front. Cantrell was on a stepstool, nailing a
blanket over the frame of where the door used to be. Dykowski saw
us coming and signaled her partner. Cantrell pulled one edge of the
blanket aside and said something to whoever was in earshot inside.
Recognizing me, they stood tense on either side of the hung
blanket. "Good evening, sir," Dykowski said to Viggo, ignoring me
with everything but her piggy eyes.
Viggo paused at the entryway, giving the
detectives a chance to react to his true appearance. Jet-black eyes
fixed on Dykowski; she gulped and began to sweat. Keeping his glare
on her, Viggo asked me, "Do you wish to address these two before we
go in, Mr. Beck?"
"Yes sir, thank you." I glanced from Cantrell
to Dykowski. "I don't care about your badges or who you really work
for. If I ever see either of you again, expect pain - a lot of
pain."
Both of their stares kept switching from me
to Viggo, but they didn't say shit. Probably a wise choice. I
stepped forward, pulled the blanket aside, and we stepped in.
The last time I was in the Everett mansion,
it was dark and quiet with a lingering odor of gunpowder and blood.
This time the place was annoyingly bright, crappy instrumental
music played through the house speakers, and the cloying scent of
roses wafted by. The current ambiance was the lesser of two
evils.
Waiting in the foyer for us was Dupree. He
steeled himself for Viggo's grotesque appearance and cold black
eyes. Wisps of shadow had begun to lift and sway off of my
commander's form. Dupree's eyes went wide and he took a step back.
"May - may I have y-your name, sir?" he forced himself to ask.
"Lead me to your Doyenne," Viggo growled,
sounding like death itself. Without another word, Dupree turned and
led us to the east wing of the mansion. "You remember my voice and
attire from the other evening downtown, yes?" Viggo asked him as we
walked. Dupree nodded quickly. "Then you would be wise to stay in
my company for the time being."
Past the large dining room was a short, wide
hallway. It opened up into the great room, an area with a two-story
high ceiling and enough space to seat forty people. The crowd of
twenty-plus hemos and minions was gathered in the near half of the
room, all facing away from us. Around a few bodies, I could see Le
Meur sitting in a fancy chair next to a large unlit fireplace at
the far end of the room. Tomasino stood nearest to her. We stayed
back and listened to the conversation in progress.
The Outsider elder Jack Fletcher was voicing
his concerns about two members of his faction who had been missing
for some time. Le Meur said that she shared his distress because
two of her own people couldn't be accounted for, and another had
been taken by a powerful stranger. She turned to Barnabus and asked
if the Deviants were having the same problem. He nodded, admitting
that Pedro Viera and Harlan couldn't be found or contacted. Nervous
murmurs filled the room.
Putting his left hand on Dupree's shoulder as
a reminder not to run off, Viggo leaned toward me. "I see you
craning your head," he whispered. "Who are you looking for?"
"Mr. McKenna, sir," I answered just as
quietly. "I didn't see him on the monitor. Here, either."
"While Mr. McKenna would find refuge on Civil
Ground, it would only be temporary. I presume that the Doyenne has
put the full weight of her influence into all but destroying him.
You've had a taste of Le Meur's power, Leo; she has used the same
Gifts and more to keep key mortals under her thumb. Police
commissioners, corporate heads, and directors of social media - her
local manipulation is expansive. Were Mr. McKenna here tonight,
authorities would no doubt be alerted and waiting for him once he
left the grounds. He would not fare well in a holding cell that had
a window . . ."
"So he's on the run?"
"A fugitive, yes. His home, his properties,
even his vehicles cannot offer a safe haven. I suspect that his
assets have been seized and his accounts frozen. Declan McKenna
finally overstepped his bounds in his attempts to subvert Emmeline
Le Meur's dominion."
That had to suck for McKenna, not that I felt
any pity for him. He was used to money and nice shit and throwing
his weight around. And then, suddenly, he's forced to grab what he
can and disappear. His minions - Blake and the other one - would be
watched, too, so crashing with them wasn't an option. Neither was
getting help from anyone in his loose-knit faction, not even his
sire Fletcher; no one would want to share McKenna's trouble. He was
fucked, simple as that.
In the great room, other comments were being
made about various faction members in the past that simply
disappeared. I figured that if Viggo was involved with all of those
cases, he had a good reason.
Le Meur refocused the crowd's attention on
announcements of introduction. First was a hemo who moved from
Florida and wanted to make K.C. her new home. She introduced
herself as Isabel Greco of the Adept faction, and said she was an
artist of different mediums. Art, shmart - I was only interested in
her exotic and dangerous looks, probably a blend of Asian and South
American heritage. Le Meur welcomed Greco to the city, promised
they would speak again soon, and then moved on.
The next announcement kicked my ass. "By my
allowance, one of the Outsiders has brought another strong
individual into the night," Le Meur stated. "Jade Clayton, please
step forward."
A fairly petite, tattooed woman walked to the
center of the room. Faded jeans tucked into knee-high boots, gypsy
jewelry, and an unbuttoned jean jacket vest with a t-shirt
underneath - she had a certain style. Her pale white skin
contrasted to her dark red hair, pulled into a long braid. Jade was
cute rather than beautiful; her large brown eyes added to the
effect. I looked closer and saw that her black t-shirt had neon
lime lettering that said, 'Soylent Green - Tap the Resource'. I
found out later what that meant.
"Thank you, Doyenne," Jade said to Le Meur
and then turned to address the other guests. "Nearly two months
ago, I was granted the right of progeny. I was of course elated and
honored. My issue was that I had no human in mind to award with the
dark exchange. So few of them are worthy these days, as I'm sure
you all know." Jade was comfortable with public speaking, that was
for damn sure. "The Doyenne knew of my plight, and kindly offered
choices from her own pool of minion candidates." She turned back to
Le Meur and continued. "I am happy to say that I selected one of
those choices, considering him worthy to join our numen ranks.
Doyenne, I present my scion, Cordell King."
No fucking way.
HERALD
Cordell King - my buddy Cord - stood and went
to Jade's side. He must've been sitting in one of the chairs
against the wall, or else I would've noticed his big frame. I
didn't understand . . . Cord, a new hemo? I was stunned. My mind
was a blender full of questions.
Towering over Jade, Cordell didn't appear to
be confused or nervous at all, as I might've expected. His demeanor
was stern and proud. He also had a whole new look. Cordell used to
be painfully predictable with his constant wardrobe choice of
slacks, polo shirt and blazer. In casual settings, he took off the
blazer. Going along with his change of species, Cord wore his
military boots, black jeans, a long-sleeved pullover that clung to
his muscles, and a sleeveless motorcycle jacket. His brown eyes had
somehow lightened in color, emphasized by his dark skin. A new look
for a new badass.
Cord turned to the Doyenne, bowed and mumbled
a few words. She nodded to him and asked Jade, "The exchange was
recent, no? I can sense new blood coursing through him."
"Last night, Doyenne."
"I thought your faction was of the habit to
test a new scion's mettle, leaving him to his own devices for a
time. Did you doubt Mr. King's ability to survive?" The question
didn't come off as insulting; it was more like creating
conversation. It was clear that Le Meur and Jade Clayton got along,
or pretended well.
"Quite the contrary, Doyenne," Jade said with
a smile. "Mr. King learned to be resilient long before I met him,
so I saw no need to put him through our trial of determination."
That was true. Cord never spoke of his childhood much, but I knew
he had it rough. His mom died young, his dad worked all the time,
and he had to watch over his little sister. Living in a dangerous
neighborhood didn't help. I bet every day was a test. Cord finally
enlisted at nineteen; the Corps gave him a whole new set of
challenges.
Le Meur congratulated Jade and Cordell -
basically a polite dismissal. When they stepped away, she
announced, "Tonight, we have the pleasure of having an unexpected
guest among us." She stood and held one hand out in Skala's general
direction. "Here to present himself at our Gathering, I am honored
to welcome the Doyen of Munich, Germany, the renowned Herr Aldo
Skala."
Confidently stepping out into the open area,
Skala scanned the semicircle of hemos with a disapproving glare.
That made me smile. He slowly turned toward Le Meur. In his gruff
voice and thick accent, he said, "I told you I was here on business
- family business. To be clear, that does not include elder Ragna,
who is not of my line. I did not come here for her, nor am I here
to present myself to the likes of you, Lady Le Meur. I, Aldo Skala,
come to this Gathering as a herald."
Obviously pissed but trying not to show it,
Le Meur asked with a snotty tone, "A herald? For who?"
Skala turned his back on her and held his
arms out wide to the crowd. "I am the scion of the walking shadow .
. ." Viggo's outline began to lose definition. He moved Dupree
aside and started forward.
". . . The offspring of stygian vengeance . .
." Skala continued. The room ahead began to subtly darken and
gather a gloom, like someone was turning down the dimmer knobs for
the chandeliers. Shadows of the guests began to move of their own
accord, sliding up the walls and twisting into grotesque shapes.
Everyone in the room was suddenly either tense or openly
scared.
". . . And the keeper of oaths," Skala
concluded. "You all stand in the presence of a true Eidolon, as
bugs under a heel. None of you are worthy." His utter contempt for
them was nearly palpable, like a slow, lingering punch in the face.
"To all of you undeserving numen, I present . . . the Veleti."
RECKONING
In front of us was Barnabus and Skin; both
stepped out of the way. Just as Viggo strode into everyone's view,
the fireplace spontaneously roared to life with flame. A few hemos
screamed in surprise and alarm. Shadows slithered along all the
walls, all forming into constantly shifting demonic shapes. I'd
seen Viggo do something like it before, but not to that degree. A
number of the hemos were reacting to the new, threatening ambiance
like I did the first time I saw it. Three minions ran out of the
room in fear.
Skala bowed to my commander and then stepped
away. Viggo turned his gaze around the room, never letting his
menacing black eyes linger. "To those of you who have the ability
to gauge truth from lie," he said with a voice of burning gravel,
"consider these words and let your senses be the judge. I am Viggo
of the Veleti, Eidolon of the Deviant faction and eldest of all
conscious numen."
"Truth," Barnabus said loudly. Moses Dupree
echoed him. Edward Galloway fell to his knees and bowed his head in
the presence of one of his false gods. Tomasino yanked him back to
his feet.
Viggo turned to Le Meur with an expectant
stare. "Truth," she said quietly while cautiously easing into her
chair. "Welcome, Veleti," she said, regaining her confidence. "We
are all indeed honored that you have come to introduce yourself at
this Gathering. If you would like -"
"I did not come here for presentations and
pleasantries," Viggo growled. "I came here for a reckoning." He let
his black eyes roam over the nervous, silent crowd for a second and
then pointed a finger at a middle-aged hemo with iron gray hair and
a sharp suit. "You, Nathan Powell. Setting aside the unethical
treatment of your lowly Realm Management employees - for now - I
will address a greater infraction under your control. Namely, the
illegal dumping of your commercial waste. It stops now. If I hear
of another occurrence, I will force you to build a hovel out of
your company's trash and live in it."