Chapter 21

I didn’t get much sleep. When I took a look out the window, the sun was still high in the sky. There wasn’t much point in trying to get back to sleep; my stomach was growling, and I had too much on my mind to drift off again with any ease anyway.

I pulled some fresh clothes out of my duffel bag, frowning at the contents. Saving the master vampire of the city from a devious necromancer didn’t leave much extra time for laundry. I’d ask Devon what I could do about that later.

Sara was already downstairs and talking to Devon, Tiny, and a couple of other White Hats I recognized from that bar we’d visited. She was looking a little better, but there were still circles under her eyes, and there was something I couldn’t quite put my finger on that seemed a bit “off” about her. Maybe she was coming down sick.

Tiny got up, drawing my attention off of Sara as he pulled out a seat for me, giving me a friendly clap on the back that nearly sent me sprawling. With strength like that, the guy could have easily been mistaken for an Other. Probably something Were. I grinned and thumped him back on the arm before settling into the chair.

“We were just discussing what to do about this necromancer,” Devon said, giving me a look that I interpreted as “and you’re really not going to like the direction this talk is going, but try not to make a fuss about it, thanks.”

One of the other White Hats poked at the bowl of chips in the middle of the table, stuffing some in his mouth before speaking around half-chewed crumbs. “I like Sara’s idea. Maybe wait until that vamp from San Fran makes his move, then see what the necro does next. If they’re both from up north, he might just leave after they get what they want. And I’m all for someone taking out that poser, Clyde.”

“It’s less work for everyone if we just let them take each other out,” Devon said, giving me a pointed look. Though I didn’t like the turn of the conversation, I kept my mouth shut.

Letting the vampires destroy each other might not have bothered me so much if I hadn’t spent time getting to know Mouse, Clarisse, Ken, and some of the others who lived under Royce’s watchful eye. They were monsters, yes, but they were people, too. Even if Clyde was an asshole, I wasn’t sure that he deserved what was coming.

Aside from which, if my doing nothing resulted in one or more of them dying, that just didn’t sit right with me—but I wasn’t sure what to do about it. The White Hats weren’t about to try to stop Others from killing each other, particularly if it made their mop-up job of picking off the survivors easier. Hell, the White Hats might even be pleased if the Others killed each other off and saved them the work of interfering.

Having to deal with the guilt of letting Clyde continue to be used by Fabian and of having more (relatively) innocent vampires die at Gideon’s hands wasn’t high on my to-do list. I could always call Royce and tell him to tell Clyde what I had learned, or maybe hunt for a direct number in Trinity’s phone, but I wasn’t sure that Clyde would believe me or have any way of stopping the gears Fabian had set in motion. There was also no guarantee that alerting Clyde would prevent all-out war. It might only act as a catalyst for a battle between the vampires for control of Los Angeles.

Perhaps Arnold would know how to neutralize the necromancer without hurting him. It was the only solution I could think of that might head off what was starting to look like an inevitable massacre.

“Guys, I just thought of something. Before we make any hasty decisions here, let me give one of my friends a call. He might know how to stop the necromancer. If there’s anything we can do to make him back off before things get rough, we might save some lives, huh?”

Some of the hunters shrugged, none of them too enthused, but nobody disputed my request. Probably because I didn’t specify that I wasn’t just hoping to save the lives of human bystanders.

Sara gave me a look, mouthing “who?” at me. When I lifted my brows and wiggled my fingers, she snorted and sat back. She got who I meant, but didn’t seem to think much of my idea. Maybe she’d already asked him?

Even though I had Trinity’s cell phone with my things in the bedroom, I didn’t want to risk the battery running out of charge since it was the only way Royce had to get in touch with me. I turned to Devon, who put a plate of food in front of me. “Do you have a phone I can use?”

“Sure. After you eat. You and Sara both need to stop waiting until you’re completely worn out to take care of yourselves.”

Shrugging, I tucked into the food he set in front of me. He’d put food in front of Sara, too, but she was only picking at it, not really eating it. That wasn’t a good sign. Whatever was going on with her was worrisome, but I had a full list of issues at the moment, so I’d have to find out what was up with her as soon as I was sure the rest of the immediate messes I was dealing with were under control.

The other hunters talked about things that didn’t concern me. Where people I didn’t know were hanging out tonight, who was coming along on the scouting party checking in on some of Clyde’s properties later, local politics that didn’t interest me, and when to meet at The Brand. It took a bit for it to sink in that Devon intended to go with a group of these hunters a little closer to sundown, and take Sara and me with him.

Barely tasting the food I was shoveling into my mouth, I set down my fork and pushed the plate aside, turning to frown at the hunter. “Why are we leaving? Shouldn’t we stick around here if we’re going to hide?”

Tiny snagged a piece of sliced melon off the side of my plate, shaking it at me to emphasize his point before shoving it into his mouth. “We need him tonight, and we’re not going to leave you two alone. You’ll be safe at The Brand. We’ve got enough hardware there to stop an army of leeches.”

Though I didn’t like the idea, I had no alternative to offer. Neither did Sara. She pushed her plate away, most of the chicken on her plate shredded instead of eaten.

“Devon, you want to show me to that phone?”

He nodded, gesturing to the living room just outside of the kitchen. “There’s a phone in there.”

I thanked him and headed over, spotting the phone on an end table next to a couch. It was wireless, so I took it up to the guest room I’d slept in and pulled my Rolodex out of the duffel I’d been carting around.

Arnold didn’t pick up. A little bit annoyed, I scrambled for Trinity’s phone, poking around the options to find the phone number before I ran out of time to leave it in the message. The battery still had about half a charge, but I would have to be careful not to mess with the phone too much unless someone had a charger I could borrow that would work with the phone.

“Hey, it’s Shia. Sara and I need some help. There are a bunch of problems right now, but the biggest one is that there’s a necromancer working with another vampire to take down the vamp we were supposed to be staying with. Long story, but we’re with some White Hats right now instead, and they’re talking about killing the mage. Any advice about how we can neutralize the necro before the White Hats hurt him or themselves? Give me a call as soon as you can. The number is . . . um . . . one sec . . .”

It felt like it took forever for me to find it, but once I did I got the numbers out in a rush, then a second time, a little slower, in case he didn’t get it the first time—but the message cut off right in the middle. Frig. I hoped he got the numbers.

I also really, really hoped he’d have some advice on how to deal with the necromancer. The thought of facing Gideon again unarmed, and with the charm around my neck not blocking all of the necromancer’s powers to mess with my head, was not a happy one. Even if he had no intention of hurting a normal person, he might make an exception for me or Sara if Fabian told him to.

Tucking the cell phone in my pocket, I brought the cordless back to where I had found it and rejoined the White Hats in the kitchen. The guys were talking about sports, while Sara was talking to the only other woman in the room, some girl I didn’t know. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, and no one paid me much attention except for Devon when I slumped into a chair between him and Sara.

“Any luck?”

I shook my head, not really wanting to discuss Arnold in front of the others. Devon had met him before, but I wasn’t sure how much he knew about the mage, or what he had thought of him at the time.

“Well,” he said, brushing imaginary dust off his pants before rising, “why don’t we get a move on, then? Come on. Let’s hit the road.”

The other White Hats got up, some of them adjusting weapons I hadn’t seen while they were seated. It wasn’t particularly surprising, just unsettling. Sara didn’t seem to have any problems standing or walking, so some of my concern for her faded. Like I’d earlier figured, it was probably just a combination of jet lag, stress, and exhaustion from all the running around we’d been doing.

Tiny slung an arm over my shoulders, then ushered Sara to be on the other side of him. It wasn’t anything possessive or creepy; he was genuinely friendly and was grinning down at us both like Christmas had come early. Judging by the flat stares and looks we were getting from the other White Hats, I was guessing that he was having a hard time making friends out here, and was glad to see us because we had never judged him or kept him out of the loop.

Not that I had anything against these White Hats, but so far no one I had met in this town had been anything other than crazy, inhospitable, or flat-out hostile. Los Angeles was not going on my list of places to visit again anytime soon.

The sun was still a long way from setting, and I found myself wishing for a pair of sunglasses once we got outside. We piled into the three cars filling up the driveway, and a couple people even headed to the street to get into a fourth. Sara and I stuck with Devon, Tiny, and one of the other guys in a big SUV. The car was nice, clean, and a lot more expensive than what Devon had been driving back in New York.

I had to wonder what these guys did for money in this town. Did they have some kind of day job? How did they make enough money to afford these nice things, as well as support their hunting habits?

Whatever. Not my problem.

We took yet another freeway I’d never heard of. Staring out the window, I watched the world pass by.

We hit a traffic jam on the 134. Devon poked at his GPS, but even with the alternate route it spouted out, we were at a standstill. At one point, a cop passed us on a motorcycle, weaving between the cars. A black-and-white soon followed, driving on the median. Then another. And another.

There must have been some kind of major accident up ahead, because the traffic going the other way had stopped, too. There was a park off to our left that seemed pretty packed with people, most of them moving in our direction, towards the freeway. Probably coming to see what was going on.

I craned my neck a bit, trying to see around the driver’s headrest.

“What the hell is that?”

Tiny’s words drew my attention to where he was pointing. The people in the park.

Wait.

That wasn’t a park. There were gravestones set into the grass, so neatly laid that at first glance, I hadn’t noticed.

It was a cemetery.

“Devon, those are—”

He cut me off. “I know. That’s Forest Lawn Memorial. Shit. We’re in a lot of trouble.”

The necromancer’s powers weren’t as hindered by daylight or witnesses as I’d been given reason to believe by Clyde and Fabian. That crowd—those weren’t people. Not anymore.

And they were headed right for us.