Awakening the Fire

chapter Ten

Once she was off the phone, Ari flopped on her couch and tried to come up with ideas to make her plan more acceptable to Andreas. When she finally realized that dusk had darkened her windows, she abandoned her efforts, began a kitchen search for food, and prepared to go on patrol. She’d just bitten into an apple, while contemplating the skimpy contents of her fridge, when Martin called. The elf served as Guardian for the rest of Riverdale, including the suburbs. Mostly wolf country.

Martin’s voice vibrated with tension. “Ari, we’ve got a mess on our hands! There’s been a vamp fight at Hartley Park. Two dead, their heads torn off. Third vamp got away. Probably headed your direction. Toward home. We’re searching the streets, but no sign of him yet.”

“A public fight? What brought that on?” She knew vamps sometimes settled disputes through violence, but never where the community could see it.

“Haven’t heard. But this big vamp’s really out of control, on a rampage. I notified the Council and the vampire court. Don’t try to take him by yourself, Ari. He’s over 250 pounds, built like a sumo wrestler, long black hair. His name might be Christopher. Here’s Steffan. Maybe he can tell you something more.”

She heard rustling on the other end, then Steffan’s voice.

“He’s right. It’s a mess here. There must be two hundred lycanthropes milling around. An impromptu Were Fest. But I wanted you to know a couple things right away. The vamps in the fight were brought here by that Canadian pack. Strange coincidence, right? That’s not the weirdest part. I’m being told the vamps were drunk. Is that even possible?”

Ari hardly heard the rest of the conversation. What Steffan had said made no sense. Vampires were resistant to spells and charms, even her stuns, and drank alcohol without visible effects. Prescription and recreational drugs were the same. Vamps simply didn’t get drunk or high. Witnesses had to be wrong. But whatever was going on, she couldn’t think of anything more dangerous than an Otherworlder who was out of control. Especially a vamp.

Telling Steffan she had to go, Ari strapped her ankle holster in place and slipped in the Cobra D22 derringer with its two rounds of silver bullets. It wasn’t lethal to Otherworlders, except at unbearably close quarters, but it might slow a vamp or get his attention. She shrugged into her leather jacket, checked her silver dagger. The knife was specially made, modeled after the F-S Fighting Knife once carried by US Marines. She never left the house without it and trained with it regularly. Once she verified her bracelet and pocket pouch were stocked with spells, potions, and extra ammo, Ari hit the streets.

She made a fast call to Ryan. This wasn’t his fight yet, but it would be if humans got in harm’s way. He agreed to have his officers step up neighborhood patrols and notify Ari if anyone sighted the suspect. Given the vampire’s size, he should be easy to spot.

Ari made the usual evening rounds, stopping in pubs frequented by vamps and a wine cellar owned and operated by wee folks, the unofficial town criers for Olde Town. Word of the fight was spreading, but slowly. Probably because it happened on the eastside. A quick sweep of Goshen Park turned up nothing. Ari backtracked to canvas more of the vampire strip. No rampaging vamp. No Canadian wolves. She listened for gossip about illegal magic or drug use but didn’t hear anything on that either.

It was after one in the morning. Ari was on her second trip through the vampire bar district when she heard the screams and sirens. She sprinted toward the commotion coming from the Second Chance Saloon, a dive that catered to members from the roughest vampire nests. She arrived as Ryan’s police cruiser squealed to a stop.

Yelling and shrieking, pushing and trampling over each other, panicked humans and Otherworlders jammed the bar’s parking lot. Adding to the confusion, a crowd continued to pour out the pub doors. Ari jumped in the bed of a parked truck to see over the crowd. A solid mass of watchers encircled two male vampires and their victims.

The neon bar lights reflected from a dark pool of blood surrounding one of the victims. The body, minus the left arm, lay still, already beyond help. The other victim thrashed wildly to break free from the grip of his vampire attacker.

Ari leaped into the crowd, shoving and pounding her way toward the survivor. As she broke out of the circle, she heard a sharp explosion behind her. She spun quickly looking for some lunatic loose with a firearm. The crowd parted and began running. She lost sight of the bigger vamp, but the other stood fifteen feet away, his hands around the throat of his victim. Ari shot a stunner in hopes of breaking his death grip. The blue flame caught the vamp in the thigh. He turned toward her. Wild, rolling eyes, showing white, attempted to focus. When she hit him in the other leg with a second stun, the vamp dropped the victim, but instead of moving toward her, he crouched, snarling, defending his prey.

She inched forward. If she could get close enough to snatch the victim… The vamp hissed, spittle dripping from his fangs. He suddenly rushed toward her, long arms swinging. Before he could pin her in a death grip, she kicked up, catching him hard on the jaw. Knocking them both off balance, Ari fell on her side, rolled to her feet, and grabbed the dagger. The vamp hurled himself toward her, ignoring the weapon. No hesitation, no flinching. Momentum carried him straight onto the blade, and his body hit her as a dead weight. The blade pierced his heart. And a silver dagger is as good as a stake.

Ari shoved the leaden body away and looked for the other vamp. He crouched near the building, a line of police officers and drawn guns facing him. Big guy, long black hair, fangs and clothes splattered with blood. Christopher.

She scrambled to her feet, yelling “Stop!” and ran toward them, hoping to end this without another death. The big guy had other ideas. Or maybe he wasn’t thinking at all. He charged the officers. They opened fire with a deafening roar. The vampire staggered and crumbled under the heavy barrage. Silver bullets. It was over in seconds. A heavy smell like burnt sulfur hung in the air.

Police officers rushed to tend to the victims. The human was dead; the other victim still had a faint pulse. The fur on the back of his hands indicated he was a weretiger, the only reason he survived. Paramedics arrived and transported him to the Otherworld hospital, but he’d do most of the healing himself. Fluids would help. Once he was strong enough to complete the change into tiger form, he’d mend quickly.

Satisfied the worst of the crisis was over, Ari grabbed the closest witness who wasn’t screaming or yelling and asked what happened.

“It started inside,” he said. “This big vamp comes tromping in a half hour ago, joined some friends. I guess they were friends. He was pissed from the word go. Someone started yelling back. Somehow it boiled down to these four, cussing and shoving. That’s when the barkeep told them to take it outside. They did. Someone hollered ‘fight’ and we all headed for the door. Then it turned really ugly.” He lifted his hands in a helpless gesture. “By the time we realized how bad it was, it was too late. Ain’t nobody going to take on a pissed off vamp.”

Ari took his name and number to pass on to Ryan.

The police strung yellow and black crime scene tape and moved the crowd away from the bodies. Four officers worked the crowd, collecting names of witnesses. Ari spotted Ryan near the door of the bar and started toward him.

Someone grabbed her arm.

“Hey!” She tried to jerk away but her arm was held in an iron grip. She spun toward her attacker and came eye to eye with Andreas. “What are you doing here? Let go of me.”

His face, only inches away, was frozen in a glare. Distant, alien. That predator look. Only his eyes sparked, searing her face as if he found something repulsive there. She felt the hot anger seething under the surface.

“Let go of my arm,” she repeated. “What’s wrong with you?” She was confused by his behavior. They’d just had a civil phone conversation. Surely this rage wasn’t directed at her. Yet his eyes told her otherwise. Her witch blood surged in response, fingers tingling.

She forced the reaction down. Witch fire wasn’t the answer. Not yet. Not this close, and certainly not in a crowd. What she needed was a clear head—and some answers. “Talk to me,” she said through clenched teeth. “I get it that you’re angry, but I don’t know why.”

“You reek of blood, Guardian. Vampire blood.” Andreas’s voice was low, but it vibrated with fury. His fingers dug into her arm. When his magic pushed against her defenses, she struggled to pull away. He released her, but stepped closer, crowding her personal space.

“You ask for my assistance,” he hissed, “and then you turn around and murder my people? Did you enjoy the kill?” His words cut like ice, brittle shards of accusation.

“Andreas, stop this.” Ari’s pulse hammered. She felt his control slipping.

“Answer me. What was it like?”

She braced her hands against his chest, her magic meeting his, and absorbed the rolling anger. “Of course I didn’t like it. But somebody had to—” she stopped. No explanations. He didn’t want to hear them. Not now. She wasn’t even sure he was listening to her. She stilled, willing his rage to cool.

Feeling the magic surrounding the pair, the Otherworlders in the crowd began to edge away. Ryan must have noticed something. Maybe her closeness to someone he considered a danger. Not such a far-fetched idea tonight. She heard Ryan’s voice. “Hey, is everything OK over there?”

No one answered him.

She shoved her hands against Andreas’s chest, demanding some space. He allowed the distance to widen without protest. Relieved at this headway, she gave him a hard look. “If you’ve got a point to make, now’s the time.”

“Don’t bait me, Arianna.” Despite the warning, his tone was neutral now. A definite sign of improvement.

“I wasn’t. But I don’t get this. The vamps were killers, and they left us no choice. I can explain if you’ll let me.” She didn’t owe him an explanation, but failing to handle this right might end with one of them dead.

Andreas took a step back. The power level dropped, and the ants quit marching up and down her arms.

“Proceed,” he said, settling back on his heels. “Explain this to me.” His voice was cold, unyielding.

Before she uttered a word, Ryan stalked over. “Is there a problem here?” He stopped six feet away, a suspicious frown on his face. She noted his hand hovered at his side, close to his holstered weapon.

Andreas ignored him.

“No, no problem,” Ari said. “Just a misunderstanding. This is Andreas De Luca. He’s with the vampire court and concerned about what happened tonight.” She waited to see if the vampire would confirm or deny his position with the court. He didn’t.

She took a steadying breath. In an effort to ease the tension, she finished the introduction of the two men. After a noticeable hesitation, they responded appropriately. Ryan accepted the vampire court’s need for information, and the moment of crisis passed.

Together, Ari and Ryan related everything they knew about the fight and the events that transpired at the Second Chance parking lot. Throughout this recital, Andreas remained silent, not even asking questions. Ari had no idea what he was thinking; the vampire had wiped his face of expression and blocked his magical power.

When they finished, Andreas spoke only to Ryan. “If you allow me to view the bodies, I can provide positive identification, Lieutenant. And notify the nests.”

“Appreciate the IDs.” Ryan looked at Ari. “But the notifications are your call, Ari. This is Otherworld business.”

“I’ve no objection. He can do it more quickly.”

Andreas didn’t even look at her.

Ryan nodded, and the two men walked across the parking lot. Ari didn’t follow. With Andreas ignoring her, her presence would only add tension. She watched as they stopped briefly at each corpse.

When they returned, Andreas finally spoke to her. “Are you still convinced there was no other way?”

“Yes, I’m positive.” She answered without hesitation, but she wasn’t going to beg him to believe her.

He frowned, slid his hands into his jeans’ pockets and walked away.

Ari stared after him, feeling somehow betrayed. He claimed she was easy to read, but if he’d seen the truth tonight, he wasn’t acting like it. Why had he jumped to the conclusion that she was in the wrong?

“He’s a strange fellow, even for a vampire,” Ryan said.

“Yeah. Complicated.” Ari turned toward the cop. She didn’t want to talk about Andreas, didn’t even want to think about him right now. She wanted to concentrate on the case. “I hope you handled the gunshot I heard.”

To her surprise, Ryan chuckled. “Hank, one of our officers. He carries firecrackers in his pocket. First time I’ve seen him use one, but it busted up the crowd.” He glanced around the crime scene. “What do you suppose set this off? Your vamp buddy ID’d the big guy as Christopher. That’s the one you’re looking for, right?”

Ari hardly thought Andreas qualified as her vamp buddy, but she agreed Christopher appeared to be the suspect from the eastside fight. She repeated what the witness had told her about this fight and added the details on the earlier incident: the Canadian wolves, the unlikely reports of intoxication.

“Sounds like the eastside fight carried over into this mess,” Ryan said, eyeing the coroner’s van. “But a lot of things don’t add up. Any theories?”

“Don’t I wish. I’m afraid something even worse is going to happen. And Molyneux’s wolves keep turning up everywhere. I’d like to know if they were here tonight.” She noticed the crew with the body bags. They were getting ready to load the vampires. She pointed toward them. “You realize the vampire corpses are useless as evidence, don’t you? There will be nothing in the bags but bones and dust when they reach the morgue. Even if we took samples now,” she said, anticipating his question, “there’s no way to preserve them. Once a vampire dies, decay spreads rapidly until it’s done. It’s quick.”

“Great,” Ryan grumbled. “Didn’t know it was that quick. Not many vamp deaths reported. What about the human? Will he rise as a vampire?”

“No, he’s just dead. It doesn’t happen by accident.”

A uniformed officer called to Ryan and, muttering an apology, he went back to work.

While the police were busy outside, Ari stepped inside the Second Chance Saloon to speak with the barkeep. The lighting was dim. The air stank of beer, spilled on the floor and tabletops, and cigars, a favorite vice among werecreatures. A lone barmaid mechanically wiped tables with a rag and stacked dirty glasses on a metal tray.

“Hey, Miss, don’t do that. Everything in here is evidence.”

The girl jumped, the tray teetered, and Ari sped forward to grab it. The barmaid was short for an elf, pale and thin. Her shoulders slumped, and when she turned toward Ari, tears glistened on her cheeks.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” the elf said.

“Careful.” Ari set the tray on the table. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m with the police. Can you tell me your name?”

“Feyla. Sorry I jumped like that. Just can’t stop crying. I was so scared during the fight, and now they’re dead.”

“Did you know them?” Ari softened her voice. The girl’s tears were real. Was she a friend of the victims? A girlfriend?

“Not really.” Feyla sniffed, wiping her face with the back of a hand. “The vamps were at one of my tables. They’d been nice all evening until the big guy came. And the foreigners.”

Ari pricked up her ears. “Foreigners?”

The elf bobbed her head. “They didn’t speak very good English, so I figured they were visiting someone.”

Feyla didn’t know where the strangers were from, and she seemed unaware of their species, but she remembered there were two women in the group. And she was positive the trouble started at their table. “I know the Second Chance has a poor reputation, but it’s never been this bad.” The girl sniffed. “You’re not going to close them, are you? I’d hate to lose my job.”

Fearing an outbreak of tears, Ari assured the girl any closing would be temporary. She told Feyla to leave her name with the officer at the door and to point out the vamps’ table before she left. Feyla pointed toward a table near the stage.

As Ari approached the table, she noted that Feyla hadn’t gotten this far in her cleaning. Eight glasses. Two vamps and six companions. There was nothing else on the table surface except moisture rings, some spilled cigar ash, and used napkins. Maybe forensics would find some useful DNA.

Using a clean napkin from the bar, Ari pulled out each chair, checked the seats, and finally looked under the table. Two cigar butts, mud from somebody’s dirty boots, a sticky patch from spilled beer, and a tiny speck of something blue. She dropped to one knee and leaned in for a better look.

“Do you have an evidence kit?” she yelled to the officer on the front door.

“Yes, ma’am.” He brought it over.

“There, see that blue thing?” She pointed under the table.

“Sure do.” He pulled a plastic bag from his kit and offered it to her.

Ari shook her head, “No, go ahead.” She didn’t see a reason to write a report for finding evidence if she didn’t have to. Besides, the young officer would enjoy the experience so much more. His face creased into a wide grin when he retrieved what looked like a small blue capsule. “Looks like some kind of drug, ma’am.”

Score one for the good guys. “Nice going, Officer. Take it to Lt. Foster,” she instructed. “I guarantee he’ll be interested.”

As he scurried off to find his lieutenant, Ari wondered if they’d opened Pandora’s Box. If that capsule contained a drug with a violent, intoxicating effect on vampires, Riverdale’s current problems could morph into a nightmare.