Ghost Light

fear.

“I never did catch your name,” I said.

“Gerald,” he said.

He spat the name through lengthening fangs and I nodded, sizing him up.

“So, Gerald, you’re really coming up in the world,” I said.  A wry smile tugged at my lips.  “Who’d you piss off to get knocked down from courier to doorman?”

Okay, I shouldn’t toy with someone who could snap me like kindling with his bare hands, but I liked busting this guy’s chops.  Watching the vamp squirm helped me forget my own problems.

Gerald stood vamp still.  The problem with vampires was that the combination of their failed humanity and immortal un-death made them emotionally reactive, but on a totally different timeframe from humans.  Vamps like Gerald tended to fluster easily and ruminate for days on how to respond.  By the time he decided on a witty comeback, I’d be long gone.

Playing with Gerald was fun, but I was in a hurry.  We needed to question the vampire master of the city and save the children before the church grim’s premonition came true.

I turned and walked down the sloping tunnel cut deep into the bedrock of Joysen Hill.  It felt like the narrow, rib-vault hallway was swallowing us whole.  I tried not to stare at the ceiling and the tons of Harborsmouth real estate over our heads.

Ceff lengthened his stride, coming up beside me.  He flashed a smile and shook his head.

“You have a strange way of asking favors,” he said.

I smiled and flipped my hair.

“It’s a gift,” I said.

Ceff chuckled and I warmed all over.

A blur flashed past and Gerald appeared in the hall below us, ruining the mood.  The vampire cleared his throat, a dry hacking sound like a zombified cat coughing up a fur ball, and waved us forward with the flick of his wrist.

“This way,” he said.

Ceff started down the tunnel and I followed.  He was wearing his favorite pair of jeans that hugged his butt perfectly.  I let him walk ahead of me, no longer concerned about the bone crushing stone overhead or the pissed off vamp below.

Ogling a guy’s butt?  Trust me.  It was better than speculating about the dark red stains on the walls.  My skin flushed, tension melting away.  I could get used to working cases with Ceff.

I nearly stumbled into Ceff when we came to an abrupt stop.  We were at the doors to the vampire assembly room.  Gerald stood stiffly before us, waiting for our request.

“Ivy Granger and Ceffyl Dwr to see the master of the city,” I said.

Gerald smirked and gestured to a small alcove which contained the world’s most uncomfortable chair.  There was no way I was sitting on that contraption again.

“I’ll stand, thanks,” I said.  “We’re in a hurry.”

Gerald approached the door, but didn’t go inside to announce our arrival.  Instead he stood perfectly still, his entire body going rigid, head tilted at an uncomfortable angle.  A slight breeze from the wards on the council chamber doors lifted tufts of dry hair that lay in patches on his head, but the vamp didn’t twitch.

Oh, right, telepathy.  Apparently the vampire servant didn’t need to go inside to communicate our request for an audience.  I discovered on my last visit that the master of the city and members of the vampire council had the ability to speak to one another telepathically.  I hadn’t been sure if young vamps had the skill, but Gerald had the entranced look the old vamps had exhibited when using their minds to converse.

I bit my lip, hoping the master of the city was in his chambers and willing to see me again.  The Boss, and his vampire cronies, had ended our last meeting with veiled threats.  I reached inside my jacket, gripped the lighter in my pocket, and checked the stakes at my back.

I hoped I wouldn’t need my weapons, but I came prepared.  Just in case.

Chapter 15

A tingle of magic, like static electricity, rushed over my skin and then faded as the doors to the council chamber opened.  The wards had been deactivated.  Gerald stepped forward and gestured for us to enter.

Apparently, the master of the city was willing to talk.  If his answer had been negative, we never would have got past those doors.  The wards would have blasted us into ash if we tried.

Ceff gave me a reassuring smile and we stepped over the threshold together into a large, cavernous room.  I strode across the marble floor with Ceff at my side.  Gerald fell into step behind us, bringing up the rear.

The room itself had not changed since my last visit, but the scene was not what I’d expected.  I stopped mid-stride and blinked.  The doors slammed shut behind us with a boom that sucked air from the room and made my ears pop.  The wards had been reset, sealing us in with the vampire master of the city—and his friends.

The master of the city wasn’t alone.  Sir Gaius Aurelius, master of the city and chairman of the northeastern vampire council, sat at the head of a long table surrounded by the most powerful vamps of New England.  From the looks of it, the entire vampire council was present.

Gerry, you plucky duck.  I looked over my shoulder to where Gerald stood in the shadows.  He was leaning against the wall and when he saw me turn, he grinned, showing more fang than usual.  The vamp had known the council was in session, but brought me in anyway.  I’m sure he was enjoying my discomfort.

Touche.

I sighed and returned my attention to the gathered council members.  The vamps sat around a large table in the center of the lavish banquet hall.  The council was made up of the most powerful vampires in the North East, and every single one of them was staring at me.  I felt like a bug pinned to velvet for their amusement.

I did a quick threat assessment.  Oh yeah, we were screwed.  There were thirteen vampires seated at the table.  With Gerald at my back, that made fourteen vampires total.  The vamps continue to stare at me, and all but one sat eerily still.

Sir Gaius, master of the city, who I’d mentally nicknamed The Boss on my last visit, sat with fingers steepled.  The tips of his fingers rustled like dead leaves as they tapped repeatedly together.  Blood pounded in my ears as everyone in the room waited for the master of the city to speak.

I flexed my hands, but kept them at my sides away from my weapons.  I wasn’t here for a fight, but, if push came to shove, this little bug could sting.  I lifted my chin and stared at Sir Gauis’ forehead.

I’m not sure what Ceff saw when he looked at the assembled crowd, but I’d warned him ahead of time not to trust his eyes.  Vampires change their appearance with innate magic similar to faerie glamour.  Their magic portrays the image of a sexy, beautiful creature with seductive eyes, full lips, and alabaster skin—and for good reason.  Vamps would never lure an easy blood meal without hiding behind their magic.

Vampires in their true form are nothing more than fanged corpses, dried out husks of flesh and bone.  Their skin, the color and texture of dried parchment, is stretched tightly over bones and skulls giving each face a toothy, rictus grin.  The watery parts of the body are always the first to go, and these vamps were old.  They all stared out from empty eye sockets above gaping sinus cavities.

Too bad the lack of eyeballs didn’t lessen the risk of mesmerism.  Vampires can only permanently change memories through the introduction of their saliva—one of the few sources of moisture still produced by their bodies—but their ability to ensnare minds with a look is legendary.  I wasn’t about to let these creeps ensnare me with their gruesome eye sockets.

I focused on The Boss’s forehead and bowed slightly.

“Corpse candle,” he said.

“Sir Gauis,” I said, nodding.

The master of the city had addressed me this way before, but I hadn’t known who, or what, I was at the time.  Corpse candle is another term for wisp.  Not the most flattering address, but accurate.  I wondered how the