Midnight In St. Pertsburg (The Invisible War 1) (20 page)

 
“Just remember, he would have killed you if he could.”

Rose realized she was staring at the pavement again, at the spot where the vampire had disintegrated. “Are you sure? I mean, was that really the only choice we had—to kill him?”

Rose expected Mike to yell at her, or to launch into another speech about how she didn’t belong here. But his words, when they came, were soft and more sympathetic than anything she’d ever heard him say. “This is why they call it the invisible war. Because war is exactly what it is. Sure, we have drinks and even imaginary dinners sometimes, but when you’re standing in the dark with a vampire that’s drawn blood, you have to understand it’s going to come to fighting. It’s going to come to killing.

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Rose. I know you don’t want to listen when I say vampires are bad news. But you remember this—remember tonight. Those vampires were going to kill those two kids, right here in an alley across from Svetlana’s club. They’re predators—they’re not human anymore—and I know you know that, because you can feel it.”

Rose shook her head, recognized the denial gesture, stopped herself. She refused to let her emotional response overwhelm her. “Nazeem said they weren’t like that anymore. He said it was dangerous to kill, that they used volunteers now. He said…he said…,” she trailed off, realizing how pathetic she sounded.

“Yeah, well, you gotta ask yourself—what reason would Nazeem have to tell you the truth?”

“One might also ask,” Nazeem’s smooth voice came from out of the darkness, “what reason I would have to lie, when the truth is so easy to discover.”

Mike didn’t have the grace to look embarrassed. “Did you catch those two?”

Nazeem stepped out of the shadows, shook his head. “But I can guess their destination.” He came over to Rose, touched her cheek with hesitant fingers. “Are you all right?”

Rose wished everyone would stop asking her that. “I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.” She caught his hand, pressed it against her cheek, grateful for the warmth.

Nazeem frowned, but his unmistakable agitation wasn’t directed at her. “I should go to the Winter Palace.”

“We should
all
go to the Winter Palace,” Mike countered.

Again, Nazeem’s irritation and consternation was clear on both his face and in the swirling energies within him. Either Rose was getting a better sense of him or he was incredibly upset. “No, it would be dangerous. I don’t know what’s going on or why this happened, and until I understand whose idea this was, anyone could be a threat to all of you.”

Mike’s crucifix was still wrapped around his hand and as he lifted it towards Nazeem, it began to glow again. “You want to talk threats?”

Nazeem retreated a step, lifted his arm to shade his eyes. “I don’t want to fight with you. But I must insist you defer to my experience in this matter.”

“Fuck you. Fuck your experience.” The light from the crucifix intensified, driving Nazeem another step away. “Someone is going to answer for this attack, and if you get in my way, you’ll be the next pile of dust on the ground.”

*
   
*
   
*

Mike was sick and tired of the fucking vampires. “You going to stand there and tell me your kind have stopped hunting the streets? When I saw the truth just a minute ago?” He fed more power through the rosary, enjoying Nazeem’s flinch.

“Stop it, Mike.” Rose’s voice was still distant, flat. He wished he had time to sit her down and help her through dealing with her first fight—her first kill—but none of them could afford to let this attack go unchallenged.
 

Nazeem said nothing, did nothing. He didn’t retreat any further than Mike’s power forced him to, nor did he make any aggressive motions towards Mike. He simply stood there, patient, calm, and Mike hated him all the more for it. “Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”

With obvious effort, Nazeem lifted his eyes to stare through the light at Mike’s face. “You’ve made it clear from the beginning you have no interest in anything I have to say.”

Something in Nazeem’s statement dragged Rose’s attention to the here and now. She stepped between Mike and Nazeem, glaring at both of them. “Quit it, okay? Both of you. This isn’t helping anyone. Mike, you’re angry. Fine, I get that. But so is he.” She waved her hand at Nazeem. “Remember, he can’t lie about that. Not to me. So maybe if you’d back off for just a minute, we can all figure out we’re working together on this.”

The cross burned in Mike’s hand, radiant. Nazeem stood defiant before him, like so many creatures of darkness had before. How many evils had asked him to listen? How many times had Mike answered—had God answered—with a power that left no room for argument?

Mike yearned to release that power. First Nazeem, then the rest of them. Wentworth, Anastasia and their lackeys. They were the ones who had broken the peace. By attacking those kids, they had lost any right to sanctuary.

Father above grant me strength
. God was with him. God would help him send these abominations to Hell.

Cold, bitter reason snaked through his mind. Orders. Obedience. The church had told him to make peace—even with the vampires. It twisted his insides, what it meant to obey those commands, but he let his hand fall and his focus waver. The glow around his crucifix faded.

Ian came out of the bar and jogged over to the group as they all stood silently glaring at each other. “Svetlana’s looking after those two, but everyone inside is pretty worked up.”

“Maybe we should go in there and try to calm things down,” Rose suggested, still looking between Mike and Nazeem with obvious suspicion.

“I should not,” Nazeem said softly.

Ian’s expression was grim. “I realize I’m not the expert in vampire-voider politics here, but isn’t this the sort of thing we were hired to put a stop to?”

Nazeem answered, “This
sort of thing
should not happen. Ever.”
 

Mike was getting tired of hearing that. “But it did happen. And Ian’s right.” Mike didn’t brandish his cross, but he took a step towards Nazeem and the vampire’s gaze flickered down to the rosary, then up to Mike’s face. “We’re going to the palace. I intend to make sure everyone there understands the consequences of attacks on voiders—hell, attacks on
anyone
while it’s my job to keep the peace in this town. You’re
welcome
,” Mike sneered out the word, “to come along, but damned if I’m going to let you go off and have secret vampire meetings on your own.”

Nazeem held Mike’s gaze a moment longer, then looked away and shrugged. “Very well. I cannot stop you. But I will urge you to caution—Anastasia will not take well to being threatened.”

“Neither do I.” Mike started walking up the street, towards the lot where they’d left the car, hardly caring whether anyone else followed.

*
   
*
   
*

The guards at the palace let them in without comment. Mike led the way along the lower hall; none of his anger had faded on the drive over here. Ian and Rose had both been uncharacteristically quiet. Nazeem had spent the drive staring out the window, his expression, as ever, unreadable.

Wentworth waited for them on the grand stairway, his immaculate black suit a sober contrast to the gilded white hall. Tonight, he wasn’t smiling. “What are you doing here? Haven’t you done enough?”

The stairs were far too wide for Wentworth to be able to block their path. Mike kept walking. “We’re here to see Anastasia.”

“You bloody fool. The mood she’s in, she’ll have your head.”

Before Mike could answer—before he’d decided if he was even going to answer—Nazeem spoke in a voice cold and flat — the voice of the killer Mike had known him to be all along. “You lied to me, Carter. You let this happen.”

If Mike hadn’t already been pissed, the implications of Nazeem’s statement—that he’d already been having secret vampire meetings—would have driven him to it. Once again, the temptation to simply pull out his cross and put an end to all the sneaking, deceitful politics, was almost overwhelming. He turned on the two vampires. “You have about thirty seconds to explain that.”

It was Rose who stepped in. “Last night. While you and Ian were watching the doorway. Nazeem asked Wentworth about vampire attacks.” She leveled her own cold glare on Wentworth. “And he told us they weren’t happening.”

“I didn’t want you involved.” Wentworth fiddled his tie straight, the only break in his icy demeanor. “For exactly this reason. You killed one of her pets; now it’s only going to escalate.”

“
What
is going to escalate?” Mike wondered if Rose realized she was yelling. “What the hell is going on here?”

Nazeem answered. His eyes never left Wentworth as he spoke. “Anastasia sent those vampires to kill the voiders. Didn’t she?”

“It’s not what you think. She has her reasons.” Wentworth glanced over his shoulder, another nervous gesture if Mike had ever seen one. “I know the laws. Nazeem, you know I support the laws. But Anastasia—she’s…a challenge.”

“What reasons?” Mike demanded. “What can you think justifies attacking a couple kids in the street?”

Wentworth stepped in closer, dropped his voice. “She didn’t want anyone talking about it—didn’t want you to know—thought it would make her look weak. But there have been…disappearances. Vampires up and gone. We think they’re being hunted.”

Rose looked at Mike, opened her mouth to speak, and Mike quickly shook his head. He knew what she was going to say—his first thought had also been that the murderer they were hunting might be branching out—but he wasn’t ready to share information with Wentworth. And after Svetlana’s reaction to Nazeem, Mike couldn’t be certain her voiders weren’t responsible either. “So, what, Anastasia’s trying to get even?”

Nazeem spoke before Wentworth. “She’s trying to build her strength.”

Wentworth nodded. “Voider blood—the way you people soak yourselves in magic—it’s potent. She thought—”

“That’s enough, Carter.”

At the sound of Anastasia’s voice, everyone looked up to the balcony at the top of the staircase. Wentworth dropped to a knee, murmured out a stream of Russian in a tone so obsequious it could only be an apology. Anastasia ignored him to focus her hateful gaze on Mike. “You come to my city. You dine at my table. You stand
in my house
!” As Anastasia’s voice twisted into a shriek, Mike reached for his rosary. “What gives you the right to kill my children?”

“Your
children
took blood that was not offered.” Nazeem’s soft, neutral tone had returned. “When we asked them to stop, your children attacked us.”
 

Mike clutched his rosary tight, the beads dug painfully into his palm. He could end this sick game right now. Wentworth had admitted they were sending vampires out to hunt voiders in the street. And it probably wouldn’t take much provocation to make Anastasia attack him. Who could argue with self defense?

Except—years of experience meant he couldn’t avoid taking in the scene with a cool tactical eye. Rose stood within arm’s reach of Wentworth. Ian stared up at Anastasia only a few steps below the vampire. If Mike provoked a fight, they’d be right in the middle of it, and they’d barely survived an exchange with a couple baby vamps. Anastasia was…Mike didn’t have to be a sensitive to recognize she was…something else. More dangerous than any vampire he’d ever faced. The observation cooled Mike’s rage, forced rational thought back through his brain.
 

Rules. Obedience. Mike was here to do what he was told, but what had Nazeem and Wentworth been saying? Maybe there was a better approach, one that wouldn’t put the children directly in harm’s way. “Your children broke the law.” Mike glared up at Anastasia, tried to look like he knew what he was talking about, not repeating empty words he’d only halfway been listening to in the first place.

It seemed to work. At least, it got Anastasia’s attention. “You think that cross you cling to gives you the right to speak to me so? You think I should be intimidated by your
faith
and your
God
?”
 

Mike could feel her power gathering, a pressing weight against his mind. The wrong word now, the wrong move, and it would come to fighting. Temptation dragged at him, as strong a force as Anastasia. But Mike knew what the better angels demanded of him at this moment. He relaxed his grip, let go of the rosary, and slowly pulled his empty hand from his pocket then held it out to Anastasia.

Her eyes narrowed; the rustle of her gold and crimson gown the only sound in a hall that had fallen utterly silent. “Oh, very brave, priest.”
 

“We’re sorry,” Ian said and even Mike could hear the honest sincerity in his voice. Ian dropped to his knees and bowed his head low. “No one should have died. Help us to make certain such a misunderstanding doesn’t happen again.”

Ian had made himself vulnerable and Mike itched to reach for his crucifix. Nazeem stood tense and still, only a few feet away, but no one would be able to stop Anastasia before she ripped Ian’s throat out, should she so choose.

Anastasia watched Ian. Her fingers tapped against her skirt as she considered.
 

“Very well,” she finally said in a low, deadly voice. She snapped her fingers at Wentworth, who managed a dignified grace as he rose to his feet in response to the undignified command. “Come along, Carter. We are finished with these people.”

As he climbed the stairs, Anastasia smiled at all of them. “If you wish to name yourselves police, then be my guest. If you wish to take upon yourselves the protection of those who live in this city, be my guests. However, understand I am going to hold you to that responsibility.

“If another of my vampires die….” Anastasia left the threat hanging as she turned and left the balcony.

*
   
*
   
*

Mike winced as Rose broke the silence. That girl couldn’t keep her mouth shut for anything. “What just happened there?”

Nazeem climbed a couple steps higher to where he had a clear view of the upper hall. “I believe Anastasia has given us charge of the welfare of vampires in St. Petersburg.”