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Rivera had made a Costco run for food and cleaning supplies, and Kaltenbach supervised the younger vampires while they cleaned the house. After the cell phone reception got restored and the wi-fi got set up again, Kit rescheduled her flight and called Holzhausen and Fenwick to let them know of the change of plans, that she’d be home Saturday night instead of Saturday morning. And then she had to kill hours and hours and hours until sunset, when Sorrow would finally arrive and accept her as his apprentice (he would, wouldn’t he?)
Kit found it weird to walk around openly in the house she had spent those harrowing hours hiding in. Now that the lights were on and they had cleared out bags and bags of trash, it was looking more like a multi-million-dollar Guild House and less like the day after a month-long house party. Kit walked around the house for something to do that might calm her nervousness. But surely, she had passed the audition, hadn’t she? She’d gotten inside the Levantine ward without killing anyone.
And then there was the thing she had done with Jay. Medina had said Jay wanted to be a Marine, that he’d said it was the closest thing to an American knight. That’s what had given Kit the idea. Feed into his desire to be a savior, a protector. Jay hadn’t said anything, just gave a deep bow as if she were some kind of medieval lady and he a knight in her service trying to be worthy of her favor. At least he wasn’t hurt by it. She hadn’t always been successful ensorcelling people (Tom had been a notable example of how badly she could screw things up) but when it worked, it could be such a subtle and brilliant solution. So many people (Crispin, for example) thought it was all about brute force. But like any martial artist learned, it wasn’t about how hard you could hit, (though Kit could hit pretty hard) it was about having enough skill to redirect your opponent’s own direction and force. Even if you had the power to just bash someone’s brain, it wasn’t always the right decision. Poor Stephanie was evidence of that. Stephanie still paused a half second before answering any question as if she’d retreated so far into herself that she forgot how to engage with the world. Maybe Kit would ask Sorrow to teach her how to heal people from things like that.
After sunset, Kaltenbach left to search the property, with the Harris brothers trailing her like hunting dogs. Kit got tired of pacing and went to sit in the living room. Living room was too pallid a term for it. It was more like the foyer of a luxury hotel. She perched nervously on the edge of an overstuffed leather sofa, while Fain flirted with Medina and the Spider surfed on her phone.
It would be fine, Kit reassured herself, willing her knee to stop jiggling. She’d done very well. Surely, she passed the audition? But what if she didn’t? What if she had to go home and tell Holzhausen that Sorrow didn’t think she measured up?
Soon after sunset Fain and the other vampires looked up, vampire hearing picking up things she didn’t sense. Medina rose to answer the door and let Sorrow inside.
A faerie. Nearly seven feet tall and dressed in all black, with long ash-grey hair, Sorrow looked like a black and white photograph of a dashing anime superhero. He didn’t walk into the room so much as stride into it.
Sorrow was a Vargel, an immigrant from the Realm of the Faerie. So that was what Holzhausen meant by “unconventional features.” He must have lost his glamour when he got turned. That made sense. Who was better at magic than faeries? And of course he was a Vargel. Who was better at style and fashion than the Clanfaeries? The black form-fitting clothing looked fantastic set against his weird coloring. Damn but that guy made an entrance.
Sorrow turned to where Fain lounged in a throne-like easy chair. “Congratulation on your ascension. I see you have defeated Crispin. You will gain more friends than enemies for that action, I should say.”
“Couldn’t have done it without Kit,” Fain said. “Have a seat, Sorrow. I’m sure you two have details to discuss. Kit’s been very excited to finally meet you.”
Medina and the Spider moved from their chairs to take seats on either side of Kit on the couch. Kit stood, not sure how to greet Sorrow. She settled for overly polite and gave him a short bow, like she would to her sensei.
Sorrow smiled politely at her. “Melbourne, so good to finally meet Holzhausen’s protégée. He’s said so much about you, his talented Dayrunner who has such an aptitude for magic.”
“Has he?” Kit sat down on the couch again.
“He and I have known each other for what is it? Almost ninety-three years now. Do you know I taught him his first spell? Surely, he would have taught you that the easiest way to break through a Levantine ward is with blood magic. It’s a simple ritual. One slit throat and you blast your way through. And here you went through all that trouble when it was quite unnecessary.”
Kit frowned. “I don’t like killing.”
Sorrow tsked. “One death in the right place can prevent so much suffering. I assure you your master Holzhausen knows that. After all, he sent you here, as a special favor to me, payback for a favor I did him ages ago. I had to be sure, of course, that you were who I thought you were. And then I simply knew I had to get you down here. Such a wonderful coincidence that Fain needed you, and I happened to be on such good terms with your master. I told your master I would consider taking a human apprentice, once I heard what you were capable of, but you know, that was all a lie.”
“What do you mean?” Kit looked from Sorrow’s face to Fain’s face to the Spider’s face, trying to make sense of what was happening.
“Will it bring clarity to your fool mind if I were to tell you my true name?” Sorrow said, switching smoothly to Vargel, using an accent she’d not heard before. He was still smiling politely and spoke as if they were discussing particulars of spell creation or maybe the chances of the local basketball team this season. “Ere I came to the dying lands, my name was Ix Yew. Perhaps you have heard of my famous spira, whose name was Dalde Apple?”
“Oh, shit,” Kit said and she felt as though all the warmth in her body had sluiced away into the floor.
She bolted for the exit, but she didn’t get very far. As soon as Kit stood, Medina and the Spider had grabbed her arms, and before Kit could break free, Sorrow had risen and approached. He took a hold of her shoulders, so now she was held by three vampires.
“My dear, that’s not necessary. There’s no need to be afraid,” Sorrow said in English, and then continued smoothly in Vargel, using the same calming tone of voice. “I have a message for your mistress. Open yourself so that she may hear it, as I will say it but once.”
Kit went limp, so she could get out of his grip, but Sorrow just held her upright, using his vampiric strength. “I greet you, Yseulta, through this vessel your minion. You know of me and my kin. You know the crime done to our sister Clan. Know this as well. What was done to Omuda will seem like the kissing of a soft gentle rain compared to what I will do to this creature before me if you do not restore the Apples you have stolen from us. The dawn will bring me sleep and sleep will bring me dreams of home, and if the Apples do not walk once more among Clan Yew, I will demonstrate my skill in keeping one living though she weeps and begs for death.”
“No,” Kit said, mouth dry with terror. “She needs more time. She can’t do it that fast.”
“Perhaps she does not care for you enough. Your other master did not care enough to protect you, nor this, your former lover,” Sorrow said in Vargel, and then in English, to Fain. “I think she’s getting cold feet. Didn’t you tell her what my price was?”
“He wants you to be a vampire, Kit,” Fain said. “He won’t teach a human.”
“I insisted that you be turned before I took you as my student. It’s a reward for your exemplary performance as much as anything,” Sorrow said in English, smiling, and then switched back to the Vargel language, not losing the smile. “Crispin could say much of this, that one of our kind may survive so much more torment than a frail human.”
“I wanted to make you a vampire anyway, once I knew how powerful you’ve become,” Fain said. “It seemed an easy price, since he was able to convince Holzhausen to send you down here. I admit I didn’t think he would.”
“He wants to kill me,” Kit said. “Fain, it’s a ruse. He wants to kill me.”
“Now, why would I do that? You’ll die, but only for three days. And then you’ll have eternal life. This is a tremendous gift we’re offering. I have much to teach you. Fain is of a respectable line, and you’re among friends here.” Sorrow turned to the other vampires with an apologetic smile. “Can you believe the ingratitude?”
Medina still had one of Kit’s arms and the Spider the other. Kit thought she might be able to kick the Spider’s knee enough to get her to let go, but what then? She couldn’t even ensorcell anyone with Sorrow here, surely he’d know what she was doing. “He wants to kill me, Fain. This is vengeance for an old grudge. Please, Fain, do something.”
“Oh, come now, Melbourne. Vengeance? Holzhausen and I are on very good terms. Why else would he have agreed to give me his Dayrunner?” Sorrow waved, as if to a small child going off to bed. “Enjoy your last hours as a human, Melbourne. I’ll see you when you rise. I have so much to show you.”
Kit didn’t struggle as they led her away. It was around eight forty in the evening. Even if she got out, she wouldn’t make it far. They dragged her upstairs to a part of the house she hadn’t seen during her hide and seek game. It had a heavy iron door with a bolt on the outside which looked both functional and decorative. Maybe this would be the one time her teek worked in her favor and she’d be able to lift that bolt? Two chairs sat on either side of the door, as if he meant to post a guard.
Medina slid the bolt out of its heavy iron brackets and pushed it open. The banded oak door was as thick as Medina’s hand. The room behind it appeared to be a guest room, and it smelled as though it had been recently cleaned, though cobwebs still draped like bunting between the vaulted ceiling and iron chandelier hanging over the bed. Someone had screwed sheets of plywood directly to the wall blocking what was probably a balcony. Next to the bed were two small but ornate dressers, and opposite it was an entertainment system larger than some campers she’d seen, with a rear projector television. The room had another door, and Kit’s heart lifted until she saw that it was just a bathroom.
The Spider grabbed both of Kit’s arms when they got to the room and held them behind her back. Medina peeled Kit’s bindi off and put it into a plastic bag.
“Hey!” Kit said. “That’s mine!”
“You’ll get it back,” the Spider said. “This is just so you don’t try to escape.”
“What would it take to convince you to let me go?”
The Spider pushed her up against the wall, mashing Kit’s cheek against new drywall painted to look like it was ancient and peeling plaster. Medina frisked Kit, finding the last stake that Kit thought she’d hidden well. She had to rip Kit’s pants to get it out of the sheath she’d sewn in there.
“Please? Just look the other way, Medina. Give me an hour’s head start and you’ll never have to see me again.”
“Give it up, Melbourne,” the Spider said. “Being a vampire is not the end of the world.”
“He’s going to kill me. Sorrow said he was going to torture me to death. That’s why he was speaking in Vargel.”
Medina put the stake, wrapped in a washcloth, into the bag. Kit could make more stakes, but the bindi was irreplaceable. She hoped the find spell on it still worked. She hadn’t renewed it in a while. How long had it been? Eight months? What was she thinking? Priorities. First get out of here, then get her stuff back.
“Don’t be afraid, Melbourne. El Patron won’t let anything bad happen to you,” the Spider said, as Medina took Kit’s wallet, phone and keys. “He wouldn’t go to this much trouble if you weren’t valuable to him.”
“He’s going to kill me.”
“No, he won’t. Fain will give you the blood kiss,” Medina said, sounding bitter. “You will die, but when you wake up, you’ll be one of us. You’ll be his.”
“I don’t want to be a vampire,” Kit said.
The Spider rolled her eyes as if Kit were a child complaining about not getting to stay up past midnight when all her friends got to. “It’s not that bad. It doesn’t even hurt that much. He’ll probably use a needle and do a transfusion. Like a pinprick, and then you fall unconscious and wake up hungry. It will be easier than my time. I bet Fain will have blood waiting for you.”
Medina and the Spider left, shutting and locking the door behind them.
Eight fifty-five. When was Fain coming? How much time did she have to plan?