Urban Vampire: The bookset 1-3
Cyrene sputtered, attempting find something to say to top that. I watched intrigued at where Monica was going with this.
“Now,” Monica continued while addressing all of us. “Once you give a rogue a voice and then they are found guilty, it cannot be considered an attempt to murder, merely a judgment of guilt. No one can fault a true judgment when all sides are considered.”
“And,” I added, “We can save those that are truly innocent from a death sentence just because someone on the Council is bored or tired or just has a prejudice against the judged.”
I resisted glancing at Kaniji who still stiffened knowing that she had wanted me dead merely because when I was first appeared on the scene Tony had immediately shown an interest in me.
Malarias surprised us all when he spoke. “In protecting your minion you also protect yourself, and gain the respect of those you rule.”
“Respect?!” Kaniji said hotly. “When did we desire respect … Master?” she ended in a much calmer voice.
Malarias said nothing.
Frank spoke in boredom. “I for one have no desire to be taken out by a desperate rogue just because you want to make a point,” he directed to Cyrene.
Tony spoke. “I could give a damn about giving a voice to some two-bit rogue that offed somebody for their territory or their property. Year after year we hear the same cases with the same outcome.” He gave her a bored look. “But I agree that it would plug that particular loophole …”
“I think we need to instigate Monica’s idea immediately.” I spoke.
Kaniji sneered. “I think it’s a waste of time and I believe that once we discover that a rogue is guilty their torment should be ended immediately—just as it has always been done.”
“I agree!” Cyrene nodded.
“I disagree.” Frank said. “And majority rules so now … I believe we have a new law of the Council of the Neratomay. Let it be confirmed that any rogue brought before judgment of this Council shall have the ability to defend his charges before being sentenced to death. Is this agreed?”
Cyrene’s mouth opened in surprise at Frank as he swept in and took control.
“Agreed.” Monica, Tony and I spoke in unison.
“Then it is decided.” He looked at Malarias who nodded once.
I saw the look Cyrene flashed at Monica … it was almost identical to the one that Kaniji occasionally gave me—one of complete contempt. I decided that I would have to be particularly aware of my blood-daughter’s back.
Chapter 7
“Down Mommy. Down!” Julie strained to be put down so that she could scoot along the floor and undoubtedly discover something new to put into her mouth. At ten months old she had grown very adept at getting around by scooting along her butt, and in that way she seemed to be able to move a mile a minute. Why crawl when you can get around hands free?
“Hold on baby,” I carried her into the family room, which we had cordoned off with baby gates. There is something about a baby that wants to be put down that makes it nearly impossible to hold them and she kicked her chubby legs clad in tiny bib over-alls and strained and stretched her body until it took some juggling to keep hold of her as I guided her safely down to the floor.
She babbled gleefully and scooted to her loudest toy, a set of chimes that were supposed to be hit with a harmless wooden mallet. But the mallet had long ago disappeared so now Julie just slammed it on the floor until it made a melodic racket. Worse is when she pulled herself up onto shaky legs to stand along the cocktail table so that she could slam the toy against the hard surface, thus ensuring that her Daddy would grimace and smile indulgently at her as the sound racketed through his sensitive ears.
Poor Paul. I told him to hide the toy but he wouldn’t since it was among his daughter’s favorites.
Sam poked her head around the corner. Having no children of her own she had unwittingly become a surrogate grandmother to my daughter—and in many ways a surrogate mother for me.
“Is that my little Sweetpea?” She said and Julie’s head swung in her direction and she clutched her hands to be picked up. Sam stepped carefully over the little gate and scooped her up, placing a series of kisses on her before BJ made the universal baby indication that she wanted to be put down; stretching her body, kicking her legs and screeching, “Down, Mimi, down!”
No one knew where the word Mimi had originated but it was what Julie called her, I suppose she was trying to say another word but Mimi was the best interpretation. So now Sam was often called BJ’s Mimi.
Over the months Sam had found a place in our family that was in no way a replacement to the place that Monica had held. In actuality she had carved out her own niche, which was one that had been sorely in need of filling.
For instance she and Mara could sit and talk about metaphysics—a topic that interested the both of them. She picked Mara’s brain on topics of the supernatural, gaining an understanding of the new world that was opening up before her.
To Karen, she was absorbing a style and sensibility that matched our new life. Gone were her wool skirts and cashmere sweaters with their neat pearl buttons. She dressed in skinny slacks that showed off a full but shapely figure, or an expensive pantsuit that took ten years off her looks. Well, that along with the blood exchange. Sam held very little resemblance to the gray haired woman approaching middle age and was now a mature and pretty woman who chose to keep her charcoal and silver hair but who could also bust out in heels and a form fitting beaded dress.
Karen loved taking control of that transformation and something subtly began to change; Sam was becoming more and more of the Queen B; a role that had once belonged to Karen. Her life experience had garnered her that well respected position and no one seemed to worry about the shift, including Karen who came to her with need of advice just like everyone else.
But I think the two people who gleamed the most from Sam was Tyler and Jason. She saw them as dual natured—Werewolf and blood donors to a Vampire and then she did something unexpected. She kept them grounded to their humanity. Slowly we had been moving towards a more provocative relationship where Jason and Tyler might perform a sexual act in front of the Ladies as they got swept away in the current of their passion. I had learned to control the succubus and in doing so fed the mutual needs of Jason and Tyler with the needs of my succubus. It didn’t phase me when their passion played out in front of me and others.
But Sam would raise her brow in that curious way and Tyler and Jason would remember to retreat to their private quarters in their own home. One day Sam reached out and gently squeezed Tyler’s shoulders in a distracted way while they sat side by side on the couch. Sam and I were discussing some business matter—nothing to do with Vampires and when she did that Tyler just seemed to sink into Sam’s touch. Thereafter it seemed that Tyler unconsciously gravitated to Sam who would reach out and stroke her hair or rub her shoulders or just give her a fond kiss on her cheek.
When Paul brought it to my attention I realized that Tyler and Jason needed touch—or at least their Werewolf did and that they had often satisfied that need with each other through sex. However, there were more types of touch that they hungered for and it soon became common to see us all lounging on the couches with Tyler curled up on one side of Sam and Jason on the other as she held and stroked and lightly rubbed their skin and hair.
It taught me something about Paul, his needs; both his and the Werewolf’s. And I remember that I needed my Paul to remain human. Sam created that bridge within us all—that despite all of our extras, they, at least were still humans. Sam had brought something important to us. She completed us, and cemented something we each sought; family.
And that is the reason that the chain still set unused in the garage. We didn’t need to explore our animal magnetism because we had learned how to separate and therefore satisfy the human and the beast within us.
~***~
Sam and I sat in the family room while BJ moved from toy to toy trying to determine which tasted
best. Sam was filling me in on the cases that we would hear tonight at our weekly territory meeting. Now more than ever before our meetings were even more important. My control and awareness of everyone and everything within my land had to be complete. I enlisted the aid of the Master Vampires that served under me more than ever before.
Councils across the nation were forced to adhere to these changes just as ours was, which amazed me that there was so little information as to why. No one knew anything and it set me on edge. I placed more responsibility on my Masters to control their liege and to keep order in the territory they managed. I even required them to send their reports to me by good old-fashioned email so that Sam could keep the reports in order.
I never heard so much complaining after requiring all Master Vampires to know how to use freaking email! But this meant that the territory meetings were reduced to those concerning hearings of judgment or punishment or ones that concerned disputes between our humans or Master Vampires.
Change was not something Vampires easily adapted to, but as an ex rogue, I’d had to survive by my ability to change and if we were going to stay on top of whatever game was being played, I was going to make sure my territory adapted well to change.
I heard Paul’s motorcycle as it winded the circular driveway. He and Ran had been out at a safe house overseeing some minor dispute among two humans that had rival Masters. For some reason, despite the fact that they had wanted to be safely separated from these cruel Vampires they still evidently felt some sort of allegiance to them. It was common for humans to carry on the very same rivalries that their Masters had and because of that we had to make sure that there were no ‘gangs’ being formed within the safe houses. Also we had discovered quite a few spies that had been sent by their Vampire masters to gain some information or other on our safe houses. Since this endangered everyone under our protection, there was a zero tolerance policy on spying. The human’s memories were wiped clean and they were sent back to the human world.
“Honey I’m home,” he called out and I heard him place his keys on the mantle.
“In the family room,” I called.
Sam gathered folders together and placed them in a leather satchel. “Okay, I’ll head over to the manor. I still need to get dressed.”
We still held our meetings at Johan’s former manor—and now most recently Monica’s former abode. She now lived in her own manor, leaving the home vacant. To me it seemed haunted; a house of death and torture. So instead of turning it into a safe house we decided to continue holding the Territory meetings there.
Sam made to step tentatively over the child gate and Paul appeared and lifted her easily setting her down on the other side.
She gave his cheek a pat. “I’ll see you two shortly. Bye-bye Sweatpea,” she winked at BJ who was torn between a desire to cry at her Mimi’s departure or to become excited at her Daddy’s appearance.
It was decided when he crossed the room and lifted her and then tossed her into the air a few times to her delight. He then settled her down against his hip where she was content to stay for a while.
My heart lurched at the sight of my gorgeous husband. He was filled out with pure muscles that caused his jeans to crease out in a faded pattern along his more pronounced muscles—particularly the one that began at his crotch and that then ran down along his left inner thigh …
Mmmm, what a lucky couple we were; two years married and still just as insatiable as ever.
I resisted being swept into giving in to my lustful desires, because then I would need to bath and re-dress. I was already wearing one of the outfits—one among many that I kept strictly for the effect that it had during territory meetings.
This one consisted of black leather pants and a black jacket that looked like a lab coat—one that had only two buttons right at my breast that concealed my nudity beneath it. I wore suede spike heels with lethal silver spikes embedded in them—well perhaps not lethal but certainly uncomfortable for someone that needed a kick to the head.
My hair was allowed to flow wildly about me and a wooden crucifix lay snuggled between my cleavage awaiting the moment that I would expose it—which would only happen once Ran was safely behind me and would not be affected by the sight of it.
As BJ grew older we now felt comfortable leaving her in the care of a trusted Vampire, which was handpicked by Ran himself, and he again joined the Territory meetings.
Because of Ran’s presence, Tyler now stationed herself in an unlit corner. She was in full sight and could easily reach any Vampire that needed her death touch. I knew she would be dressed in a tank or cropped top in order to maximize the exposure of her religious tattoos. Each person on my panel wore similar clothing that was meant to intimidate, including crucifixes, rosaries or Star David. And if none of that did the trick than Jason and Paul in Werewolf form generally kept our meetings orderly.
Ran would stand to my left and one step behind me and there had been times in the past before we gained control of the meetings that he had seen someone strike out at me before I even did. If he flinched right I moved left without thought, without question. Paul would stand at my right and if someone became belligerent or disrespectful he would shake his head wildly and within seconds the Wolf would appear. At that point no one, not even me could control the Wolf and only he would decide when he felt that the proper respect had been restored.
“Do we have any new developments on the ripple in the Nation?” I asked Ran. He wore black jeans that hugged his impressive legs, along with a strange chainmail shirt that mimicked the look of silver. He was no taller than about 5’10 and had a more slender frame that seemed to make the lines of his muscles that much more impressive as they lacked the bulk that most men thought they needed. Ran had brown hair that he kept neatly cut but on meeting days he swept it back exposing a sun bronzed complexion that most Vampires shunned because it caused them to appear more human than undead. Ran looked very normal which was his greatest asset. He blended well with humans and Vampires alike. Despite his good looks and brown eyes that could hold a glint of mischief, Ran was single. To the best of my knowledge he didn’t even entertain women in his bed. It seemed that Ran only existed for two purposes; protecting BJ and making sure that no one harmed me. Anything else was just incidental and that included feeding, sex…and just enjoying his existence.
It pained me that the loss of our Julie still stunted him. Once upon a time Ran had intended to end his existence but sensing his thoughts I kept him grounded by making him Julie’s protector and of course I always needed as much help as I could get. Maybe it was selfish of me to want him to remain in existence. But the idea of losing yet another friend was not an option.
Ran’s brow furrowed. “It’s strange Kim. Something is going on—changes being made, alliances forming and all on the Elder level.” The entire Vampire Nation was aware that things had made a shift but even utilizing our many contacts, no one was able to determine what or why.
What was certain was that every Vampire Council in the Nation was now required to keep a strict reign over their territory and to monitor any and all behavior; both living and undead. Whereas before, we kept our ear to the grindstone when it came to humans but did not interfere in their affairs, we now had to answer for any and everything that could create a potential exposure to our existence. If too many donors came up with symptoms of blood loss or teeth marks in their neck which caused the local hospitals to become alert than I had to take the steps necessary to cover it up…otherwise Malarias would be in my ass.
And what happened to those Council Members that lost control of their territories? The elder Council punished them. In the last six months we had heard of two Council members that had been put to death; one for allowing the rogue turning of a notable local personality and the other for not realizing that authorities had traced a large drug ring back to the Council member’s businesses—which then exposed other Vampires across the globe through business connections.
Those of us
in power knew that not only our positions on the Council but also our lives could be jeopardized by more than just a rogue with an itchy trigger finger, but now by Elders that expected the near impossible; and that was for one person to know everything.
“Mistress,” A tall Master Vampire that was both young and old; young in appearance but over a thousand years a Vampire, entered the room. He was one of the few under my rule that I trusted and during our meetings he was assigned to the waiting room where he kept the peace. There were others that I enlisted to help, but I intentionally kept the numbers low—less chance of discovering a traitor in our midst.
“Yes Simione?” We were between hearings and during the course of the night we had already executed a rogue that had been brought before us by his Master for the torture and murder of a human donor. We’d removed a troublemaking human from one of the safe houses, wiping away her memory of her years with us and sending her to a halfway house for recovering addicts run by members of our human family.
I was tired and hoping that Simione was going to announce that the remaining minion had left after resolving their disputes between themselves.
“There is a man that seeks to speak to you; he is human but,” Simione’s normally expressionless face turned into one of confusion. That more than anything caught my attention. I waited patiently for him to continue. “He doesn’t smell like one of ours. In fact … he doesn’t appear to have ever given blood to any Neratomay. He’s just a human but he wants to speak to you.”
Very curious now, I looked at the monitor and manipulated the camera to the waiting area. Ran and Paul leaned in to get a look at the monitor as well.
“What does he want?” I asked searching the faces of the few remaining men present.