“Sorry.” The frantic tigress was trying to corral her unruly brood. “It all happened so fast. While I was chasing one, the other… I’ll clean it up.”
Ari could only guess how long that would take with the cubs continuing to run back and forth in the debris. “No, it’s not a big deal. I can take care of it. Really.”
Flashing a grateful smile, the tigress grabbed each cub firmly by one hand and marched them toward the front door. Once they left the building, Ari ran to the storage room, gathered a broom, dust pan, and bags. It took forty-five minutes to clean the worst of the mess. She had no idea what to do about the ruined plants, and from up close the pots had an odd odor, so she dragged everything—pots, plants and dirt—outside and stuffed them in a large dumpster. Without the foliage, the hallway looked rather cheerless, but it was clean. If she was lucky, no one would think to ask her about the change in decor.
She finally collapsed into her desk chair, clutching the last cup of coffee, and put her feet up. She’d been too busy to think about Andreas’s imminent departure. If things continued like this, his absence might not be too bad. Yeah, right. Night would be a different story.
The council president’s wizened face appeared in her doorway. Ari dropped her feet from the desk and jumped up to greet him.
He waved for her to be seated. “Please, don’t be so formal. I merely stopped to commend you on your redecorating of the hallway. I’ve been telling the custodian for months that those plants were a bad idea.” His eyes twinkled. “Young shifters frequently relieve themselves on the pots, leaving unpleasant stains and odors.” He chuckled and continued down the hallway.
Ari sank back into her chair. Was there anything the old wizard missed?
The afternoon was nearly as hectic. She’d only scheduled appointments in the morning and had no idea the center had so many walk-ins throughout the day, looking for information or Otherworld-friendly resources. She suspected the center’s receptionist was taking advantage of her presence by sending all the unscheduled visitors to her. In spite of the steady traffic, Ari made the rounds of other offices and talked with any council reps she saw. The schmoozing was something new for her, but she needed to get back in touch with the rest of the magical community.
When four o’clock arrived, she grabbed her jacket and headed for the door. A stop at the shapeshifter shelter, then home to see Andreas. Had he firmed up his plans for Italy? She hurried her pace. With a little luck, she could squeeze in both visits before evening patrol.
There was only one all-shifter shelter in Riverdale. The other two Otherworld shelters in town were multi-species, but shifters usually chose the Shifters’ Den. Most lycanthropes were pack creatures by nature and newly transformed werecreatures were readily taken in by the packs, leaving the shelters to transients, loners who had chosen a solitary life, or the occasional trouble-maker. Approaching the house on the edge of town, she realized it had received a new coat of brown paint since she’d been there. Had it been that long? She shook her head. Just more proof she hadn’t been giving the shifters enough of her time. She pushed the all-hours button.
The suspicious face that peered from the window immediately smiled, and the door was opened for her. “Guardian,” the headkeeper said. “Always delighted to see you. But today, I could use your advice.” The matronly-looking werewolf was in charge of the facility. “Got a bit of a problem.”
She swung the door wide, and Ari immediately saw the source of the trouble. A young werejavey.
“I thought they left town.” Ari stepped inside.
“Well, not this one. They either forgot about him or just didn’t want to mess with him.” The woman whispered behind her hand. “Only a baby, but he is so unpleasant. Stinks, and language straight from the sewers.” The headkeeper put her fingers briefly to her nose, then turned a cheerful face to her young charge. “Mangi, this is the Guardian. Say, hello, and try to mind your manners.”
The half-boy, half-peccary javey snorted at her. “All I want from y’all is food, none of yer prattle. Do this, don’t do that. Ya ain’t my mama.”
“And thankful I am about that,” the woman retorted. She looked at Ari. “What am I going to do with him? He showed up about an hour ago, and already he’s run everybody else out for the night. I can’t keep him here, but I can’t turn him away either.”
Ari walked over to where he sprawled on a couch. “Where’s your home? Your parents?”
“S’none of yer bus’ness. ’Sides, ain’t got any no more.” The javey scratched his snout.
Great. A homeless, unwelcome visitor. What were they going to do with him?
“While you’re thinking, I’ll see to his supper.” The headkeeper disappeared into the kitchen.
For fifteen minutes, Ari tried to draw more information from Mangi. He sneered and snarled, being generally disagreeable. She finally lost her temper and threatened to turn him into a cockroach if he didn’t cooperate.
Mangi’s eyes bulged. “You’s a witch, ain’t cha? I figers you cud prob’ly do that. S’worse than what I is.”
“So cut out the fake gutter slang and talk to me.”
He dropped his eyes and eventually told her his home had been near Waco, Texas, and he’d been a teenager in high school until two weeks ago when he’d been attacked on his way home from a meeting of his chess team. Afterward, the gang had insisted he take them to his home, where they’d ransacked the house, murdered his parents, and forced him to go with them. Two days later the gang had given him to six adult javeys. He’d traveled with them until they’d disappeared last night.
Good Grief! He’d been a nerd. Behind the obnoxious behavior he was lost, confused, and depressed. She mentally sifted through possibilities, searching for a way to provide a different life for this kid than total rejection by everyone he met. Sending him to Texas would put him back with the violent gang who’d left him behind. She couldn’t do that. If given a chance, it was possible even a javey could be something better.
She stuck her head in the kitchen, taking in the aroma of fresh chopped vegetables and stew meat cooking on the stove. “I may have an idea. If you can keep him busy for a while, I’ll be back soon.”
The headkeeper pointed to extra pots of scraps and vegetables sitting on the table. “I reckon these will keep him content for a while.”
Mangi, who’d followed Ari, squeezed past her and immediately stuck his head in one of the pots. He began to make contented smacking noises.
Ari grinned and waved a hand at the werewolf. “I’ll be back. I promise.” She had her cell phone in her hand before she reached the front door.
Andreas answered promptly. “Cara Mia.”
“Can you take me to see, Zylla? Right away?”
“You have some urgent need for ancient history or prophecy?” He sounded ready to be amused, as he often did when she came up with these impulsive requests.
“No, but I need a nanny for a young shifter.”
“And you thought of Zylla?” His rich laughter flowed across the airways, making her toes curl with pleasure. “I would not miss this conversation for the world.”
* * *
Andreas had a grin on his face when he met Ari at the cliffs overlooking the Mississippi River. “I really am looking forward to hearing this story,” he said.
“It’s—”
“Oh, no, “ he interrupted. “Do not ruin the anticipation by telling me now.”
She gave his arm a playful punch. “Don’t laugh. This is one of the best ideas I’ve ever had.”
“It will be interesting to see if Zylla agrees with you.” He clasped her hand and lengthened his stride, leading the way to the cliff edge and down a series of hidden ledges that would bring them to a concealed opening into the vampires caverns.
It wasn’t long before they were deep in the maze of caves and approaching the area where the 800-year-old vampiress lived. Prior to her transformation, Zylla had been the wise-woman of a witches’ coven, and she still retain
ed a portion of her magic. She was very much a recluse, and Ari had only talked with her once before. They came to a polite halt outside Zylla’s chambers.
“Please come in Andreas, and bring the witch with you.” If the voice quavered, it was because Zylla had been seventy-eight when she was transformed in the 1300s. Although her vampiric powers had increased as the years and centuries passed, her witch powers had waned, and she seldom used witchcraft except for brewing potions, simple spells, and cryptic visions of prophecy. She still had an uncanny ability to anticipate visitors.
Zylla wore her usual attire, an old-fashioned, long-sleeved dress, with the skirt tucked around her thin legs and a shawl over her hunched shoulders. She sat before a burning fire where two pots were boiling, one of them emitting a faint scent of lemon. “Would you like some tea?” Her eyes glittered with lively interest. “I was just about to have a cup.”
“Allow me to pour.” Andreas moved forward and crouched before the magical fire. He was in no danger from the flames, created by an illusion spell. Zylla chose to surround herself with the trappings of her early life, and the campfire was an affectation from the 14th century, the contents of the pots heated by a second spell.
He glanced at the two small cauldrons, dipped a ladle into the lemon-scented pot rather than the bubbling mixture, and filled three cups the old woman handed to him. “You look well, Zylla.” He kept up a social conversation while they were getting settled.
She always looked the same, of course. Vampires showed only minor signs of aging, occasionally developing enlarged fangs or a skeletonized frame. She had neither. Zylla would be the same forever, until some unfortunate incident intervened or the end came by her own design. From time to time an ancient one would quit drinking blood and just fade away. The wise woman’s steady look said that time wasn’t likely to come soon for her.
Ari sipped her tea sparingly—she didn’t really care for the bitter taste—and watched with amusement while the two vampires discussed the latest Otherworld gossip. Zylla’s fondness for the vampire prince showed in her twinkling eyes, and he seemed to return her regard.
Finally Zylla turned her attention to Ari. “You have been very patient, my dear. I know you have come here with a request, and I am most interested to hear it.”
“As am I.” Andreas’s voice vibrated with humor.
Ari set down her teacup. She’d considered how she could sell her plan, but now that the moment had come, the suggestion sounded ridiculous even in her own head. Still, it was important enough to give it her best effort.
“I have a young man who needs a very strong mentor. Someone who won’t allow him to exercise his normal rude or violent behaviors.”
The old woman’s head bobbed. “I have had a vision of such a person, but it was hazy, and I could not see his nature. What kind of creature is he?”
Ari crossed her mental fingers. “A werejavey.”
“What?” Andreas looked startled. “You cannot expect Zylla to get involved with such a vile, distempered creature.”
“Now, Andreas.” Zylla chided him, her eyes still twinkling. “Allow the girl to speak. It never hurts to listen.” She studied Ari. “Explain exactly what you expect from a mentor. Then, I would hear your rationale for choosing me.”
“This should be good,” Andreas murmured.
Ari ignored him. “Mangi—that’s his name—needs someone to look out for him, teach him how to live as an Otherworlder. He’s just a kid, fourteen or fifteen—a chess player, for Goddess’ sake—and was transformed within the last couple of weeks. He doesn’t have a clue how to conduct himself, and I’d hoped he could live here, in the caverns. Kind of as a foster child. It’s a lot to ask, but he could do whatever chores needed to be done.” She paused to see the vampires’ reactions. Zylla’s face revealed nothing, but Andreas had grown thoughtful.
“Go on,” Zylla urged. “Tell me the rest.”
“A Texas gang infected him, murdered his parents, then abandoned him.” She went on to explain the bar fight, the survivors’ flight. “Mangi showed up hungry at the shifter shelter. But they can’t keep him. He’s undisciplined and angry.” She gave an apologetic look. “He won’t be easy. He’s already driven other inhabitants from the shelter with his rude snorts and non-stop cussing. But he’s also confused and desperate. I’d like to see if he can live outside the gang and learn a different lifestyle.” She paused with an anxious frown. “He has nobody.”
“I must disagree. He appears to have a strong advocate.”
“He didn’t choose his life.” Encouraged that Andreas was quiet and Zylla hadn’t said no, Ari dared to say, “I think you both can understand that feeling.” Neither vampire responded right away. Had she said the wrong thing?
Zylla gazed into the fire. “The boy will agree to this? Does he want to live such an isolated life in the caves?”
“I don’t intend to ask him. This would be his one shot. But he’ll come. We reached an understanding.”
“What kind of understanding?” Curiosity lit Andreas’s eyes.
“I threatened to turn him into a cockroach.”
He choked off a laugh and even Zylla smiled, before she gave Ari a sharp look. “If he cannot adapt, what will happen to him then?”
Ari swallowed hard, but it had to be said. “That would be up to you. Unless civilized, he’s much too dangerous to be left on his own. His life would be in your hands.”
The old woman nodded. “That would be the only way.”
“Are you seriously considering this?” Andreas eyed the vampiress. “It would change your life down here, sharing it with such a child.”
“Yet, it might be the very thing an old vampire needs. I believe I would like to try.” She grinned, revealing a hint of fang. “Yes, bring the boy. We will see how we get along.” She rubbed her gnarled hands together. “I like a good challenge.”
Chapter Three
Ari and Andreas collected Mangi from the shelter and introduced him to Zylla. Their first meeting was a mixed bag, and Ari experienced everything from disbelief to disgust at Mangi’s behavior. He’d been gross and uncivil, grunting and wiping his snout, until Zylla interrupted his swearing with a magical head slap that must have left his hairy ears ringing. After that, he’d been quieter, more respectful—or at least more wary—and Ari began to have hope.
Finally the old woman waved Ari and Andreas toward the door. “You may go now. We will get acquainted. If you need to take and throw him in the river, I will let you know tomorrow.”
As they retraced their steps to the cliff surface, Andreas echoed Zylla’s earlier prediction. “He will be quite a challenge.” The vampire swung his body up and over the cliff edge, reaching back to grab Ari’s hand. “How did you know they would get along or that Zylla would even consider such an undertaking? You’d only met her once.”
They began walking toward town. Ari shrugged. “She was the only person I could think of who lived alone and had the power to control him.”
“It would never have occurred to me, but you may have made a wise choice. Zylla was intrigued, and he will certainly keep her busy.” Andreas chuckled. “I have rarely seen anybody who needed more improvement than that boy.”
“Yeah, but I hope it works. Somehow he kind of grows on you.”
“Hmm.” His lips quirked, and he glanced sideways at her. “I failed to see anything appealing, but perhaps in time I will change my mind. If you are done rescuing homeless waifs, can we go home now?”
“Oh, yeah.” In fact, a terrific idea. She flexed her hunched shoulders. “It’s been a hell of a long day. Sleep sounds really good.”
Andreas slowed his steps to match her lagging pace. “Then perhaps I should tell you my plans on the way. There has been a more serious incident in Italy. One of my vineyard workers was found dead at the bottom of an old water well. No injuries that are not consistent with a fall. They are assuming he was drunk and stumbled in the dark, but it seems an odd occurrence. The sides of the well
are three feet high, and considering the recent vandalism, I would like to be certain.”
“What do the local police say?”
“They wrote it off as an accident.”
She knew what was coming and slanted her eyes at him. “So when do you leave?”
“Tomorrow night. No, since it is after midnight, that would be tonight.”
She wanted to scream a protest, but all she did was nod. “You want to see the body before it’s buried.”
“Yes. To satisfy my suspicions.”
“I assume you’ll take Russell and Lilith with you. What about Gabriel?”
He shook his head. “They all remain here. Gabriel will be in charge of the court, and I need Russell to continue with security for the club. As for you—”
“But Andreas—”
“Allow me to finish. Samuel will be with me, and two of my weretigers. It will give them a chance to visit their family.” He took her hand. “Do not look so worried. I have made this visit many times without incident. My Italian staff will meet the plane, and I will be in no danger.”
“You aren’t taking any of the vampires? Is that because of travel difficulties?”
“No, although sun changes are always an issue. Vampires are not readily accepted in Italy. Except for my immediate staff, my status is unknown to the general populace. We—I should say several generations of me,” he said with a wry quirk of his lips, “are considered to be an eccentric family and persistently absent landlords.”
Wow. Vampires had walked the American streets freely since before Ari was born. “You haven’t mentioned Lilith.”
“She remains with you. Someone has to be in charge of house security while Samuel is away.”
“You have plenty of house staff already,” Ari scoffed, “but she’ll love being in charge. I warn you right now, she’s not allowed to follow me around all day. So tell me again why you aren’t taking more protection.”