Who guards the guardians, she thought, but the common phrase to unlock doors probably wouldn’t work on the cold steel. Not because it was made of metal, but because the door itself had probably not been imbued with the spell to open it in an emergency.
Daniel’s eyes slid to Quen, then back to Trisk. “He’s one, too?” he said, letting go of the bars and backing up in distrust. “And Kal, and Rick?” he guessed, and she shook her head, wishing they had let her keep her shoes. The cement was freezing, making the demon mark on her foot seem to burn.
“Quod est ante pedes nemo spectat,” Quen said, the back of his neck red as he used magic in front of Daniel.
No one sees what is before them, she thought, but that didn’t work, either. It was a more elaborate charm than the first. He was going the wrong direction. “Rick is a, uh, living vampire,” she said, deciding he might as well have it all. “It’s only the dead ones that have the long teeth and light restrictions. But he’s got a lot of charisma.” She hesitated. “Did. Niles was a dead one. You can see the difference.”
Daniel frowned. “Vampires? If you’re going to lie, at least make it convincing.”
She pressed into the bars, hating the distance between them. “But you have to admit you saw the difference, yes?” she insisted. “You don’t hear about vampires because the dead take the blood they need to stay undead from living vampires, who enjoy it. The living vampires don’t need blood at all, though I’ve heard they do practice a lot between themselves. Keep it in the family. It’s all very civilized.”
And it had been for a long time, the infrequent lapses put down fast and hard by other vampires. But if the master vamps suddenly found themselves surrounded by fear and death, that might change.
Worried, she paced the small space of her cell. The sundry hurts were easing with movement, and the need to get out was growing. “Try something to unlock, not open,” she suggested since Quen was still fiddling with the door.
Quen took a tighter hold on the lock, a faint haze of green aura hovering over his hands. “Reserare,” he said softly, but that, too, failed. Slumping, Trisk grimaced. If it didn’t open with that, it wouldn’t. They’d have to find another way.
Daniel edged closer. “An elf. Like Santa and the shoemaker?” he asked.
“No, those are just stories. The reality is a lot more mundane. Daniel, we’re not that different from you,” she said, but he was watching Quen’s hands, the energy from the ley lines so thick his aura was visible. “We can even have children together, with some help.”
“You mean magic,” Daniel said flatly.
Quen pushed back from the locked door in frustration. “And now we have to kill you to keep it a secret.”
“Knock it off!” Trisk shouted, fed up with his bloodlust, even if it had been a joke. Catching her anger, she glanced at the silent front office area, then back to Daniel. Five feet and a world of misunderstanding were between them. “We can’t let anyone know. That’s why we cursed you to forget and I had to leave, because eventually you’d remember if I stayed. I didn’t want to.” Her jaw clenched, and she looked away. “Still don’t,” she finished softly.
Daniel seemed to lose his hard edge, but he was still angry. “You turned my virus into a killer,” he said, and Trisk shook her head.
“I made it safe,” she insisted. “That’s why I came three years ago. To make it safe.”
“Safe for vampires and elves, but not humans,” Daniel accused, and Quen eyed him.
“Your goal was to make people sick,” Quen said dryly. “Trisk made it safe for elves, witches.” He sighed as he sat on the cot. “Weres, trolls, pixies, and fairies. Banshees. Gargoyles.” Stretching, he tapped his toe on the bars. “Do you have anything to melt metal, Trisk?”
“Not that hot, no,” she said, thinking that talking about magic in front of Daniel was almost titillating. If caught, they could all be put to death for it. Not that it mattered anymore.
“Gargoyles?” Daniel said, eyes wide. “You’re kidding, right?”
“They are a minority, but they exist,” Quen said as he leaned back to put his head against the wall. “After this plague, you might be the minority.”
That’d be a switch, she thought wryly. They could come out of the closet if humanity was the endangered species. Humans wouldn’t have the strength or organization to protest, much less mount an attack. Even the most backward would realize if the Inderlanders were wiped out, so would be their TV, cheap gas, and easy food supply.
“No . . .” Daniel drawled, his head moving in denial. “How could an entire species, several species, exist without anyone knowing?”
“Well, we knew.” Trisk went to sit on her cot and rub her cold feet. The bump of her demon mark was startling, and she tucked her feet under her. “We’ve had a couple thousand years to blend in. You changed to match us as much as we changed to match you. Most of us mimic you really well by now, but I’ll admit those who don’t are dying out. It’s not easy to make a living when you have to hide all the time.”
Again, that hard look came over Daniel’s face. “Hence the plague,” he accused, and Quen’s eyes opened.