Martinis with the Devil, Part One Read online

CHAPTER EIGHT

  “You’re joking.” Quinn gawked at me.

  “How creepy is this?” Riley said, biting his nails.

  “A coincidence? Or a trap?” Eli asked, to no one in particular.

  I sat back down on the sofa, my head spinning. “Definitely creepy. Coincidence? Doubtful. Trap? Probably. Oooh, what am I going to wear?”

  Quinn rolled her eyes, while Riley looked contemplative. “When is this dinner?” Eli asked.

  I glanced back down at the invitation. “Tonight. How convenient.”

  “Too convenient,” Quinn said, her brow wrinkled.

  “And it implies a certain assumption that you have no social life.” Riley smirked at me.

  “Nah, she just assumes everyone will say yes to her. Especially with the pompous delivery boy and all that.” I got up. “Luckily for her, she was already in my datebook for tonight. I’m gonna go get dressed.”

  “I’ll come help!” Riley and Quinn said simultaneously. I grinned, and Eli even cracked a smile.

  A bit later I was dressed, rather smashingly if I may say so myself, in a black satin dress. Only to the knees of course, so I could fight if I needed to.

  “So, you’re just going to walk in there all alone? What if it’s an ambush?” Quinn asked as we walked back out into the living room.

  “Sorry, dearest, the invitation didn’t have a ‘plus one’.” I gave her a comforting pat on the back.

  “We’ll be on standby right around the corner,” Eli said. “In case you get in a pinch. If you’re not out of there in two hours, we’ll come for you.”

  I figured he didn’t realize how knight-in-shining-armor he sounded. Probably just another angel thing.

  “Even better,” Quinn said, looking excited, “I have an amulet you can wear that will alert me if you get in trouble. Be right back.”

  She ran to her room and emerged with a pair of crystal necklaces strung on thin ribbon. After murmuring a quick spell over them, she strung one around my neck, and the other around hers.

  I looked down at the yellowish crystal hanging at my collarbone. “You know this totally doesn’t go with my outfit.”

  Quinn rolled her eyes. “Get over it, Zy.”

  “How exactly do they work?” My tone was dubious.

  “Yours is imbued with a spell that senses danger to the wearer. If it senses danger, it will magically transmit back to my amulet, which will glow red. Then we’ll bust in and save you.” She smiled gracefully, as if talking about her favorite cookie recipe.

  “Okay, but I’m just going to make a couple adjustments.” I cast a quick glamour that changed the appearance of the crystal from rough-cut stone to a gleaming diamond shape set in silver. Another quick flick of my hand turned the ribbon to a round silver choker. “Much better.”

  Quinn sighed. “What would be better is if you quit focusing on simple glamours and worked on deeper magic. You know, the kind that can actually save your life.”

  I should have known I was going to get another lecture on my use of my powers. I’d been getting that drill for almost a decade.

  “Are you girls done?” Riley quipped. “We need to roll.”

  Quinn cast me one last reproving look. “Yes, we’re done. For now,” she added over her shoulder as we headed for the door.

  Arianna Vega’s penthouse was located in a posh sky rise in downtown Seattle off Union Street. Her building was a veritable hotspot for all the city’s supe royalty, as well as the human politicians, attorneys, and entrepreneurs. While society hadn’t gotten quite comfortable enough yet to allow supes to win any political seats (and in fact it was illegal in some states), the upper echelons were so close knit I’m sure Arianna and others like her had significant influence. Not to mention she could glamour them any time her charm alone didn’t do the trick.

  About half a block from the penthouse we pulled over in an alley and I got out. “Good luck,” Riley said.

  “Thanks.” But I knew luck had nothing to do with it.

  “And be careful,” Quinn added.

  “Well now you’re just asking too much.” I grinned and strode off to the street. Just as I rounded the corner, I saw a flash of wings moving up the side of the nearest building. I guess I had my own personal guardian angel.

  Not one but two doormen stood at the entrance to Arianna’s building. Just in case one of them needed backup? I giggled to myself. This was going to be a totally over-the-top evening. I handed the closest doorman my invitation, which he glanced at imperiously. He looked me up and down as if sizing me up for something. If he had X-ray vision he’d know I had a dagger strapped to each thigh. But apparently he didn’t, because he gave me a weak upturning of the lips that was supposed to pass as a smile and waved me on.

  The cost of the lobby of this place could probably have fed an entire third-world village. Or twenty. It made even the HR’s headquarters look shabby. Gleaming black marble floors and pillars, chandeliers oozing with hand-cut crystals, a frescoed ceiling. Even the air was heavily perfumed, like walking through a field of blooming flowers. I wondered what Arianna had done to make her money. I doubted it was anything legal.

  Two more black-clad doormen stood at the entrance to the elevators, and two more at the exit on the 51st floor. As one of them escorted me to Arianna’s door, I wondered if they doubled as ninja assassins. It just didn’t seem Arianna would have a normal staff at her service. Though they were just humans, I could tell that much. We arrived at the door, which was opened by yet another of Arianna’s staff, who bowed and did a little flourishy thing with his hand.

  It seemed Arianna had a thing for red. An ode to blood? The color was displayed boldly throughout the room that lay before me, from the thick velvety curtains that pooled to the floor, to the gigantic arrangement of flowers in the center of the room, to the expansive Persian rug. Even the candles flickering in the crystal sconces were red.

  Though I’d arrived exactly on time, the room was already filled with people, giving me the impression they’d all been told to arrive at a different time. It was a showcase of Seattle’s elite supernatural families. Most supes chose to affiliate with a group. Vamps and witches had covens, weres and shapeshifters had packs, faeries had intricate hierarchies based on bloodline, and so on and so forth. And I of course was a loner, being a rare type of supe. Anam Gatai weren’t exactly popping up at every corner. We were sort of like vamps. And witches. And incubi and succubi. But we weren’t, and none of them had invited us into the family. Fine by me, since I found most of the groups to be very political, full of power struggles and rules. Plus, I had friends all across the supe world, which was frowned upon if you were a member of a vamp coven or faerie family.

  Vamps were especially exclusive. They thought they were the most powerful of all the supes, and superior to everyone else since they had started Evo. While they had an uneasy truce with the other supes, they didn’t usually hang in the same social circles, The Assembly being the one exception. It was made up of ninety percent vamps, however, and now, here I was, in the viper pit of snooty vamp society. The head of every vamp coven in Seattle was present here tonight. Who I didn’t see was Alexander.

  “Zyan!” came a delighted voice behind me. I turned to see a beaming Arianna Vega, wearing a slinky green dress as per her usual style, and cascades of red curls and diamonds. “I’m so glad you could make it!”

  I hated fakey-fake conversation. When both people know they don’t like each other, but pretend anyways to serve whatever ulterior motive. Like now. I swallowed down my disgust and smiled in return. I had a job to do. “Thanks for the invite. Though I am a bit surprised.”

  “Well, it’s just been so long since I’ve seen you, I figured we should chat and catch up. And now that you’re here, we can start dinner. I’ve sat you right next to me.” She said this like she’d just bestowed a royal title upon me. Her green eyes glimmered warmly, like I was her long lost best friend. Did this approach really work with anyone?

  “G
reat,” I responded, showing my hugest smile. Two could play this game.

  Arianna smiled even wider, which I hadn’t thought possible, and raised her glass of champagne. She tapped the side of it with her fingernail, which made a shockingly loud noise. “Dinner’s starting, everyone! Please take your seats!”

  She shepherded us like good little sheep into an enormous dining room. Two walls of solid glass looked out over the city. Was Eli perched outside somewhere watching? Arianna led me down the length of the gleaming table, which seated all thirty or so of us present. Crystal goblets and sterling silver lined the table in perfect symmetry. She pulled out an ornate brocade chair and gestured for me to sit.

  The moment she sat down, an army of waiters stepped forth from the shadows and filled our wine glasses. Mine had regular wine since I wasn’t a blood drinker, but most of the rest were filled with blood. They had businesses now that collected blood from donors for money, and some rich vamps even had blood servants, but this kind of thing was frowned upon. Since Evo, vamps had agreed to subsist on synthetic blood, and these blood collecting services existed in sort of a supernatural black market. I glanced around at the other guests as they drank freely. Laws were apparently far beneath them, not that this came as a shock to me.

  Dinner consisted of five courses. The first course was a blood orange gazpacho with actual blood in it, naturally. The second was a salad of chilled shrimp and watermelon, with blood balsamic. Third came an antipasto plate with an assortment of extra bloody cuts of meat, and the main course was prime rib, cooked bloody. Again, my dishes were all made sans blood. Arianna of course kept up a steady stream of meaningless small talk throughout the whole thing, so that by the end, I felt an aneurism coming on.

  It wasn’t until dessert that the real games began, however. As the wait staff brought forth little chocolate soufflés dusted with gold in intricate designs forming the initials of each guest, Arianna stood up to make a speech.

  “I hope everyone enjoyed dinner.” The guests all nodded and murmured their appreciation, to which Arianna beamed graciously. “And for dessert we have a special treat. In honor of my guest, Zyan Star.” Arianna indicated me with a wave of her hand like I was part of a circus freak show. “Thank you, Zyan, for inspiring this delicious evening of fine food, wine, and most importantly, good company.”

  Everyone applauded and whistled, and I even heard a few people call my name. Arianna sat back down and lifted a spoonful of soufflé to her mouth. “Mmmmm.” After a moment of silence with her dessert, Arianna began the real conversation. “In addition to catching up, the reason I asked you here tonight, Zyan, is that I’m hoping you’ll consider joining us on The Assembly.”

  I suppressed a snort. This whole thing was just bullshit. She wanted me under her thumb, and I needed to know why. Or at least confirm what I already suspected. So I continued our little dance. “Out of curiosity, why are you asking me now? We’ve known each other for quite some time.”

  Arianna laughed. It was all things a dainty laugh hiding dark intentions should be. “The Assembly is the seat of power in the supernatural world, and over the years we’ve garnered support and influence in other circles as well—with the other supernaturals, as well as the humans. We even have sway within the angelic and demonic realms.” She paused, taking a slow sip of her blood while fixing me with a moss green gaze. “In our realm, the HRs and their angelic forces control the balance of power. But that may not be the case much longer.”

  I twirled my spoon between my fingers. It kind of surprised me she was actually saying this. She was either very arrogant, or—nah, just arrogant. “What do you mean?”

  Arianna smiled demurely. God knows she was anything but. “It’s been said in the supernatural gossip circles that you’ve recently been working with the HR and one of his angelic commanders. I hear he’s quite a hottie!” She winked conspiratorially with me. “And it’s just, with events that are soon to unfold, I’d hate for you to end up on the wrong side of things.”

  “The wrong side of things… yes, I see your point.” I smiled. “Arianna, tell me, where is Alexander tonight?”

  Her eyes flashed for just a moment before she smiled again. Her fangs showed a little this time. “Alexander?”

  “Alexander Roman. My ex. Because I heard in the supernatural gossip circles that he’s staying in this house.” I smiled again as our dance changed tempo, but this time it held ice.

  “He had other plans tonight,” Arianna said. Her voice had gone flat and she let her spoon clatter noisily to her silver-rimmed china plate.

  I suddenly felt cold in my gut. “Plans at HR headquarters?” I asked, forcing a neutral tone.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Arianna’s sweet smile was back, the mask firmly in place.

  “Of course not,” I responded. “And I’m very glad to hear that. After all, I’d hate for you to end up on the wrong side of things.” I stood, laying my napkin on the table. “Dinner was lovely. Do tell Alexander I stopped by—I’m very much looking forward to seeing him again.”

  Arianna stood as well, gesturing for two servants to escort me out. These however, were not the nose-in-the-air butler types. These servants had some serious muscles, black sunglasses and those little earpiece things secret agents wore. The message was quite clear. “Thank you for coming, Zyan. I do hope you’ll reconsider my offer.”

  “I won’t, but thanks.” I turned and strode out of the room, making the musclemen practically jog to keep up. And I wasn’t just trying to be annoying. Fear gnawed at my stomach. What better time for Alexander to make an attempt on the HR’s life than when Eli and I were conveniently occupied?

  As soon as I got to the hallway I tried to call Eli’s cell, but he was on the other line. The elevator seemed to take an eternity to reach the ground floor. I didn’t bother keeping up any air of propriety. As soon as the doors opened, I sped out of the building.

  My phone rang. “It’s Eli. Someone’s broken into headquarters.” His voice was calm, though I knew better.

  “Be there in a sec,” I said.

  I’d thought Alexander was simply hiding in another room so Arianna could schmooze me in a lame attempt to get me under control. But now I realized I was wrong. Dead wrong.

  I had barely reached the alleyway when Eli swooped down, grabbed me by the waist, and launched into the sky. Under different circumstances, I would have protested. We shot through that space between spaces, the interdimensional freeway. I made a mental note to ask Eli more about how he did it later.

  We landed hard enough to cause a crack in the pavement beneath us, proof enough that Eli was not completely calm, despite the stoic expression he wore. I realized we weren’t in the front parking lot with the marble steps and twinkling lamplights, the public front. We were at the back of the building, which looked more like a penitentiary or military encampment. Rows of armored vehicles lined one side of the barbed-wire encircled area; a number of hover crafts, motorcycles and cars lined the other. Even with the faint shimmer of the force field that domed over the roof, there was nothing peaceful or ethereal about this place.

  As I followed Eli towards a door at the back of the building, I wondered how one would go about penetrating the defenses of the building. Having been through them myself, I figured it would be near impossible. Unless, that is, you had someone helping you on the inside. Mental notes two and three: get a schematic of the building, and talk to Eli about the possibility of a traitor.

  When we hit the interior of the building, I noticed the lights had dimmed to a dull red to indicate a security breach. Why was it they always dimmed the light when you were trying to find the bad guy?

  “The HR’s in the safe room,” Eli said to me over his shoulder. “The security cameras caught one glimpse of Alexander when he first entered the building, but they’ve since lost visual on him.”

  Vamps his age had a Santa Claus size bag of tricks, so it wouldn’t surprise me if Alexander could turn himself in
to mist or something. Unfortunately, since the jerk had abandoned me early on, I hadn’t had a chance to learn all his moves.

  Eli turned down a flight of steps leading to a subterranean level of the compound. We descended at least two stories, passing no doors or passages leading off anywhere. After a couple minutes, a door finally loomed below us. It was open, which it shouldn’t have been judging by the look on Eli’s face. I stepped through the door into something slick. Blood. Six of the HR’s warriors lay dead just inside the door. Tension rolled up Eli’s jaw, and his eyes went cold with fury.

  We broke into a run down the hall. I was faster so I pulled ahead, racing for the door at the end. Another pile of warriors lay in front of the door. I leapt over them into the room beyond. The light was even dimmer here, but I could see two figures on the opposite side of the room. One standing, sword in hand, one kneeling.

  “Alexander!” I screamed.

  Crossing the room in a blur of movement, I knocked him to the ground. We struggled, limbs flying. I flipped him over on his back and straddled him, landing a bone-crunching punch to his jaw. The assassin looked up at me.

  It wasn’t Alexander.

  It was a woman wearing a mask over her eyes, ninja style. At that moment, that split second when the shock of realization hit me, something smashed into the back of my head and everything went black.