"If you catch him, what are you going to do with him?" John asked. "I'm not going to help you find a vampire so you can kill him. I could argue he's doing us a favor."
"Not if the Cabals find out."
John paused, then nodded. "So I assume you want to know who has a beef with the Cabals."
"Shouldn't she already know?" Brigid said, slanting a look at Cassandra. "That's her job, as our representative isn't it? To know who's been naughty and who's been nice?"
Cassandra met Brigid's sneer with a solemn nod. "Yes, it is, and if I have been remiss in performing my duties, I apologize. As of now, expect me to do so, and if I do not, you may petition the council to have me removed. As well, I may consider seeking a codelegate."
"We'd appreciate that, Cassandra," John said. "We've all talked about this. We'd like a second delegate on the council. I'd be willing, of course."
"I...appreciate the offer," Cassandra said. "Right now, though, we need to resolve the most pressing concern. If you know anyone who has had a problem with the Cabals--"
"First, I want your word that whoever is responsible won't be executed."
"I can't do that. Council law--"
"Fuck council law."
Cassandra glanced at me. I shook my head. This we couldn't do. We both knew that the killer had to go to the Cabals. To do otherwise would be to risk having them turn on both the vampires and the council. All we could do now was negotiate with them to minimize the fallout.
"We can't promise absolution," Cassandra said. "But we'll make sure he's treated fairly--"
"No deal."
"Perhaps you fail to understand the importance of this. The more children this vampire kills, the uglier this will get. We need to stop him--"
"Then stop him," Brigid said. "You shouldn't need us. And I don't think you do. I think this is all a little act for your council buddies, so they don't find out the truth."
Cassandra's eyes narrowed. "What truth?"
"That you knew exactly what was going on. You knew how bad things were. You want us to tell your little witch friend here so you can claim you didn't know a thing about it. Well, you can't possibly be that out of touch--"
"I'm afraid she is," said a voice behind us.
We turned to see Aaron step into the basement, followed by Lucas.
"Cassandra doesn't know what's been going on," Aaron said. "But I do."
Edward and Natasha
"HELLO, AARON," BRIGID SAID, SLIDING UP TO HIM AND running a finger down his chest. "You're looking good...as always."
Aaron lifted her finger off his shirt and let it drop. "Put some clothing on, Brigid."
She smiled up at him. "Why? Tempted?"
"Yeah, to cover my eyes."
Brigid sniffed and swung to Lucas. "So this is the Cabal crown prince, is it?" She looked him up and down. "Nothing contact lenses and a better wardrobe couldn't fix."
She took a step toward him.
"No, thank you," Lucas murmured.
"Brigid?" John said. "Please, get dressed."
"Don't bother," Cassandra said. "If Aaron has what we need, then we'll leave you two to your immortal slumber."
She headed for the door.
"Hold on," John said. "I may have details Aaron doesn't. My deal still stands."
"Deal?" Aaron said.
I nodded. "He wants us to promise not to execute the killer or hand him over to the Cabals."
"Ah, fuck, Hans, you know we can't do that. They'll come after us, hunt us down."
Brigid laughed. "You think we're afraid of the Cabals? We're vampires. The gods of the supernatural world, impervious to harm--"
"Yeah, until someone chops off our heads, then we're worm food like everyone else. Hans, maybe you've got Brigid believing that vamp-superiority crap, but I know you're smarter than that."
"We don't need this," Cassandra said. "If you have a name--"
"I do, but Hans may know more. I want to find this guy before he kills another Cabal kid."
"Why?" Brigid said. "Who cares about another dead Cabal brat?"
"The Cabals do."
John hesitated, then nodded. "Let's talk."
At Cassandra's insistence, we moved out of the basement. John suggested the backyard, so we waited for him there. Like the front yard, the rear was surrounded by a high fence. Here, though, the fence had been erected by John, not his neighbors. The yard was almost as big a shock as the home office, which is probably why he kept it hidden.
It was small, no more than a few hundred square feet. Instead of grass, it had rock gardens and koi ponds surrounded by gravel paths. In the center of the yard was a pagoda with a teak table and chair set, where we waited for John.
Brigid had already made it clear that she wouldn't be joining us. Apparently, she took her role as a "true" vampire very seriously, never venturing outside during the day. I suspected this was why John chose to have the meeting outdoors, so he could speak without her interruptions.
As we waited, Lucas explained how they'd found us. Aaron had called him early this morning, thinking we'd be sleeping in after our night chasing John. They decided to hook up and come to New Orleans together. Lucas knew we were heading to John's house, but didn't have the address. Aaron had the address.
I was anxious to hear Aaron's findings, but before I could ask, John returned. He was dressed in black leather pants and a white linen shirt. Still pretty Goth, but not as theatrical as last night's attire. I suspected there was a lot of theatrics to John's image. Last night he'd gushed about Aaron, but when the man showed up in person, Brigid had been the only one vamping it up.
"It's Edward, isn't it?" Aaron said as John pulled out a chair.
"That would be my guess," John said. "I don't know him well enough to say for certain--"
"No one knows them well enough to say for certain," Aaron said.
"Them?" I asked.
"Edward and Natasha. They're a couple. Been together a very long time."
"I've heard those names," I said. "In the council minutes. They're immortality questers."
"Did the council investigate them?" Lucas asked.
"Investigated and exonerated, if I remember correctly," I said. "It was at least thirty, forty years ago. Another vampire expressed some concern about their questing--no outright allegations, just a bad feeling. Anyway, Edward and Natasha weren't breaking any codes, just searching for answers, like most questers."
"Well, it's gone beyond bad feelings," Aaron said. "Seems rumors have been circulating about them in the vamp community for a while, saying they've gotten into some nasty shit up in Ohio." Aaron caught my look. "Yeah, they've been living in Cincinnati. Lucas told me that's where you figure the killer's from. I'd say we've got ourselves a suspect."
"Is this connected to their questing?" I asked.
"Possible," Lucas said. "They may have uncovered a ritual requiring supernatural blood."
"Then where's the Cabal connection? Sure, it's a great way to find supernaturals--just hack into the Cabal employment records--but you think they'd stick to the periphery, with runaways like Dana. Attacking a CEO's family is only going to raise the stakes."
"That could be a side effect of the killing itself," Lucas said. "After Dana and Jacob, Edward saw the chaos he was creating and couldn't resist a bigger challenge."
"Or maybe the ritual wasn't working and they thought Cabal royal blood might help."
"Not they," John said. "Only Edward."
Cassandra shook her head. "Those two don't do anything alone."
"They do now," Aaron said. "No one's seen Natasha for months. Rumor is she'd finally had enough, that things got too bad, and she took off."
"I find that hard to believe," Cassandra said. "They'd been together for over a century. After that long, you don't just--" Her gaze flicked toward Aaron. "What I mean is, it seems unlikely that those two would separate."
"Well, one way or another, she is gone," John said. "And I doubt Edward's happy about it."
&n
bsp; Quest for Immortality
NEXT STOP: CINCINNATI, OHIO. USING EDWARD AND NATASHA'S known aliases, as provided by Aaron, Lucas had found two Cincinnati area addresses for the vampires. There, we hoped to find either more evidence or some clue as to their current whereabouts. Aaron offered to come along, and Cassandra was in for the long haul, so all four of us were going, which seemed an expensive proposition...until Lucas led us to the private airstrip at the Lakefront Airport.
"I wondered how you two got to New Orleans so fast," I said as we approached the Cortez jet.
Lucas's gaze slid away and he shifted our bags to his other shoulder. "Yes, well, after I spoke to you, my father called and when I told him we were pursuing a lead, he offered the use of the jet. It seemed a wise idea, allowing us to bypass the schedules and restrictions of commercial flight." He shifted the bags again. "Perhaps I should have--"
"You did the right thing," I said. "The faster we can move, the better."
"I don't see what all the fuss is about," Cassandra said as the flight crew scrambled to lower the boarding ramp. "This business about refusing to join your own Cabal makes absolutely no sense. If you want my opinion--"
"I'm pretty sure he doesn't, Cass," Aaron said.
"Well, I was just going to say--"
With impeccable timing, the pilot hailed Lucas to discuss last-minute flight details. A crew member took our overnight bags, then the attendant showed us to our seats. By the time Lucas returned, the plane was taxiing down the runway. The attendant followed him in and took beverage orders, then chatted with Lucas for a moment as the plane lifted off. And if you think this sidetracked Cassandra from voicing her opinion about Lucas's situation, then you don't know Cassandra.
"As I was saying," Cassandra said after the attendant delivered our drinks. "I really fail to understand this whole rebellion of yours--"
"Cass, please," Aaron said.
"No, that's fine," Lucas said. "Go ahead, Cassandra."
"One would think, if you are serious about this Cabal reformation business, then the best position from which to effect change is within the organization itself."
"Ah, the Michael Corleone strategy," I said.
Aaron grinned. "Hey, I hadn't thought of that one."
The light flashed, telling us we could remove our seat belts. After taking his off, Aaron stood and shucked his jacket. Underneath, he wore a T-shirt with the sleeves ripped off. Now, not every guy can pull off the sleeveless T-shirt look, but Aaron...well, Aaron could. And the sight temporarily diverted Cassandra from her course. As Aaron reached around the corner to hang his jacket, her gaze slid down his well-muscled arms, and came to rest on his backside. A look flitted through her eyes, more wistful than lustful. Then she jerked her gaze away with a sharp shake of her head.
"Michael Corleone," she said, honing in on her target again. "Do I know him?"
"From the Godfather movies," Aaron said as he lowered himself into his seat. "His father was a Mafia don. He didn't want any part of the family business, but finally decided to take over and mold it into a legitimate business. In the end, he became exactly what he'd rebelled against."
"Is that what you're afraid of?" Cassandra asked Lucas.
"No, but the basic premise holds. One man cannot reform an institution, not when everyone working for him is happy with the status quo. I'd face such serious opposition that my authority would be completely undermined and, if I continued, the board of directors would have me assassinated."
"So you pursue individual acts of injustice from outside the organization." Cassandra sipped her coffee, then nodded. "Yes, I suppose that makes sense."
"And I'm sure he's thrilled to hear that his life meets with your approval," Aaron said.
She glared at him. "I was simply clarifying matters for my own understanding."
"Okay, but why do you always have to be so damned antagonistic about it? You never just ask questions, Cass. You lob them like grenades."
"Aaron," I cut in. "You said you have two addresses. One in the city and one outside it. Is that an old one and a current one?"
"I'm not sure," Aaron said. "They're under separate aliases, an old one and a current one. According to Josie--"
"Josie?" Cassandra cut in. "Your source is Josie? Oh, Aaron. Really. The woman has porridge for brains. She--"
"I'm not sleeping with her."
"That's not--" Cassandra shot a glare around the cabin. "Where is that girl? What, she serves coffee and disappears until the flight's over? Paige's cup is almost empty."
"Uh, that's okay, Cassandra," I said. "But thanks for thinking of me."
"If you need anything, just press the buzzer by your elbow," Lucas said. "Otherwise, I've asked Annette to stay up front so we can speak freely. Now, about these two addresses. The rural one is under an older alias, but we should check out both. It won't take long."
"It'd be even faster if we split up," Aaron said. "Lucas and I take one, you ladies take the other. That way, we each have a spell-caster for breaking in and a vampire for sneaking around."
"Good idea," I said. "We'll take the rural address, and leave the city one for Lucas, in case he needs to do more than peer in the windows. He's the breakin pro, not me."
Cassandra's brows arched. "And you admit it? That's a first. You really are growing up, aren't you?"
"Cassandra?" Aaron said. "Shut up."
"What? I was praising her--"
"Don't. Please." Aaron looked at me. "I wish I could say she hasn't always been like this, but she has. After a few decades, you get used to it."
"Get used to what?" Cassandra said.
"So," Aaron said. "How do you guys like living in Portland?"
Cassandra and I stood on the side of a country road, our rental car parked behind us. Through the thick brush and gnarled skeletons of dead trees, we could make out a tiny cabin that looked like it predated indoor plumbing.
"Uh, rustic getaway cottage?" I said, double-checking the address Aaron had scribbled into my notepad. "Maybe they preferred life before electricity."
"This is ridiculous," Cassandra said. "I warned you, Paige. Aaron is far too trusting. He hates to believe anything negative about anyone, but that Josie is, bar none, the stupidest vampire ever to walk the earth. Probably gave him the names of her ex-boyfriends instead of Edward's aliases. She--"
My cell phone rang. Thankfully.
"It's Aaron," he said when I answered. "We have the house here. Lucas is scouting it out now, but I talked to the lady next door and she gave me a spot-on description of Edward and Natasha. Says they've been away a lot lately, and she hasn't seen Natasha in a few months, but Edward stops by now and then."
"Want us to come and help search?"
"If you could. Four pairs of eyes are better than two. If Cassandra squawks, tell her she can wait at a coffee shop instead. That'll make her pipe down. She hates to miss anything."
I signed off and relayed Aaron's message to Cassandra.
"So this isn't the right house?" she said. "What a surprise."
She headed for the car. I stayed where I was, peering through the trees at the cabin.
"Wait there," I called back to Cassandra. "I want to check this out first."
I headed for the cabin. Cassandra's sigh was loud enough to be heard from the roadway but, a moment later, without so much as a whisper of long grass, she was beside me.
"The only thing you're going to find here is Lyme disease," she said. "That's not a vampire's house, Paige. It never has been. It's too small, too far from the city--"
"Maybe that's the point," I said. "Immortality questers are notoriously paranoid about security. They need a place to conduct their experiments. Why not here?"
"Because it's a dump. And it's certainly not secure."
"Does it hurt to look?" I said. "It's probably five hundred square feet tops."
Cassandra sighed, then swung in front of me and marched to the cabin.
Ask people what they fear most in life and, if they
answer honestly, they'll say "the end of it." Death. The great question mark. Is it surprising then, that people have pursued immortality with a relentlessness that surpasses the pursuit of wealth, sex, fame, or the satisfaction of any other worldly desire?
You might think that supernaturals wouldn't fall into this trap. After all, we know what comes next. Well, okay, we don't know exactly. Ghosts never tell us what's on the other side. One of the first lessons apprentice necromancers learn is "Don't ask about the afterlife." If they persist, eventually they'll be unable to contact the dead at all, as if they've been put on a ghost-world blacklist. So we don't know exactly what happens next, but we know this much: We go somewhere, and it's not such a bad place to be.
Yet even if we know that a decent afterlife awaits, that doesn't mean we're in any hurry to get there. The world we know, the people we know, the life we know, is here on earth. Faced with death, we kick and scream as hard as anyone else. Maybe harder. The supernatural world is rife with immortality questers. Why? Perhaps because we know, by our very existence, that magical things are possible. If a person can transform into a wolf, why can't a person live forever? Vampires live for centuries, which seems proof that semi-immortality is not a pipe dream. Then why not just become a vampire? Well, without getting too deeply into the nature of vampirism, let's just say it's extremely difficult, even harder than becoming a werewolf. For most supernaturals, finding the holy grail of immortality seems more feasible than becoming a vampire. And a quester needs only to look around to know that being a vampire doesn't cure the thirst for eternal life. If anything, it sharpens it.
I always assumed that vampires were such ardent immortality questers because, having enjoyed a taste of it, they can't help wanting the whole deal. Now, after Jaime told me she'd never heard of a necro contacting a dead vamp, I began to wonder how many vampires knew there was no proof of a vampire afterlife. I've never thought immortality sounded all that great, but if it was a choice between that and total annihilation, I'd take eternal life any day.
"Well," Cassandra said, standing in the cabin doorway. "I think we can safely say there's no secret lab in here."
I squeezed past her. Inside, the cabin was even smaller than it had appeared, a single room no more than three hundred square feet. The door had been secured with a lock good enough to require my strongest unlock spell and there were no windows, which had raised my hopes that something of interest was hidden within. From what I saw, though, the lock was only to keep out teens looking for a party place. There was nothing here worth stealing.