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We climbed down the ladder, then followed the tunnels, silently creeping through the dim passage, retracing our route. The only sounds were the distant rise and fall of voices, the sounds of small creatures creeping through the dark—rats and cockroaches and shrews—as they crossed through the shadowy passage, surrounded by the compact walls of earth.
There was a feel to the night that only those of us who routinely lived under the Moon could fully grasp. A sense of camaraderie. We were the silent partners of the world, the lurkers who went about life with the veil of secrecy forever shrouding our footsteps. Those who lived by the day were noisy, their actions visible in the light. Unfortunately, the night not only sheltered the mystical creatures but also the dregs: the serial killers and rapists and those who specialized in shooting others in the back.
We made it to the door that led into the underground complex. I held a finger to my lips, motioning for the others to stop fidgeting. Pressing my ear against the door, I listened. At first, all I could hear were the shallow breaths of the others behind me, but then, as I focused my attention, their breathing dropped away. I could still hear the rats and cockroaches, but they, too, disappeared as I narrowed my attention further.
And then, there it was: the low chanting again, coming from the distance. Only it was deeper than before, more concentrated. I needed Camille to see if she could sense any magical energy coming from it, but for that, we’d have to enter the complex itself. I listened again for the sound of anybody lurking on the other side but could sense nothing.>He escorted us to the door, and we found ourselves on the sidewalk again, politely but swiftly dismissed.
I turned to Vanzir. He raised his chin slightly, daring me to ask what I wanted to ask. As I glanced around the streets, a cool breeze washed through, and I heard the murmur of whispers caught in it. There were eyes and ears in the night, and not all of them friendly.
“Let’s head out,” I said. “We’ll meet at the bar to discuss what we’ve found.”
Without a word, we split up and drove off, but Carter stuck in my mind for a long time after that.
As we gathered in my office at the Wayfarer, Luke knocked at the door. I motioned everyone to be quiet as I called him in. Werewolves had extraordinary hearing. He didn’t need to find himself privy to what we were discussing. The bar rag hung at a lazy angle over his shoulder, but I could tell he was on edge. He must be feeling the pull of the Moon as she rode toward full, too.
“What’s up?” Luke wasn’t in the habit of interrupting me if he thought I was busy, so something must have happened.
“Trouble, boss.” He motioned toward the front of the bar. “Freedom’s Angels out there, harassing the Faerie Maids.”
Oh shit. The last thing I needed was a group of self-appointed moral watchdogs in my bar hounding my customers. I turned to Camille. “Call Chase and get him over here.” As I followed Luke out to the bar, I could hear the arguments in progress.
There were three of them. They looked a lot like bikers at first glance, but the leather jackets were Value-Mart specials, the blue jeans were new and hadn’t been broken in yet, and the stubble on their faces was about ten hours old. The smell of paper dust and toner and stale office air clung to them like a cloud of old cigar smoke. These men weren’t thugs, but they wanted people to think they were. They might have seen a few scuffles, but I’d bet my right fang that none of them had been in an outright fight. Yet.
The group was hassling two of the Faerie Maids who were drinking at one of the tables up front. The girls might be dressed to attract, but that wasn’t a crime. At least not in my bar. And while the Faerie Maids were notoriously stingy with their orders and were lousy tippers, they were still my regulars.
“Have we got a problem here, gentlemen?” I sauntered up to the trio and insinuated myself between them and the girls. “Because I’d hate to see anybody in my bar feel threatened.”
One of the men—apparently the leader—stepped forward, leaning down so that he was breathing stale beer breath in my face. Apparently they hadn’t heard that a vampire owned the Wayfarer, because otherwise he wouldn’t have been so stupid.
Luke immediately shoved him back, then folded his arms as he stood beside me. I could feel him quivering, and the scent of wolf lingered directly beneath the surface. We were close enough to the full Moon that the stress was taxing him. Werewolves were generally hotheads, anyway. I glanced at him.
“Luke, you need to go home for the night. I can take care of this myself.”
“I’m not leaving you—” His eyes flashed dangerously and began shifting color.
“Yes, you will. I’m your boss; I’m ordering you to go home.” I unmasked my glamour and stared at the werewolf. Luke stared back, but only for a second. I was alpha in the bar. I was his boss.
He lowered his eyes. “Okay, but I don’t like this.” Stalking over to the bar, he slapped the rag on the counter and strode toward the back. I assumed he was leaving by the back exit to avoid bumping into the Freedom’s Angels and setting off a fight. The moment he was out of sight, I turned back to the men.
“What the hell do you want?”
“Listen, little lady, maybe you should think about finding a job somewhere else. Hanging out with this riffraff can’t be good for your . . .” He stopped and gave me the once-over. “Wait, did you say you’re the owner?” With a glance at the others, he shook his head. “No, that can’t be right. I heard the owner is a—”
I opened my mouth, letting my fangs extend, and gave him a wickedly gleeful grin. “What? A vampire, perhaps? You got that right, bud. Now what the fuck do you want in my bar, and why are you bothering these women? Or do I even need to ask?”
Mr. Tough Guy straightened his shoulders and stuck his thumbs through the belt loops on his jeans, giving me a patronizing look. “You’re a vampire? But you’re just an ittybitty thing. We’re here to stake a claim for the Earthborn and lead the stray sheep back to clarity. This is our city and our world, and we’re determined to keep it that way.”
“Holy crap. Do you really believe the garbage you’re spouting?” Camille’s voice echoed from the door to my office, and I realized that Luke had clued them in on what was going down.
“I can take care of this,” I said, but before I could say another word, Rozurial and Vanzir were flanking me, with Morio, Camille, and Delilah spreading out to form a semicircle.
“Got an idea,” I said, jabbing my finger into the leader’s chest and sending him stumbling back against his buddies with one tiny shove. “You get your sorry asses out of here before I throw you out. And if I ever see you near my bar again, I’ll have you arrested. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll pay a visit to you in the middle of the night when you’re asleep and make sure you leave my bar alone.”
Eyes wide, he and his buddies backed up. His voice took on a threatening tone. “You are a freak. You and all your kind. And we don’t like freaks.”
“And I don’t like repeat offenders,” Chase said as he stepped through the door with two officers at his back. “Toby, I’ve told you before, you’re crossing the line, and you’re going to end up in jail.”
I glanced over at Chase. “Toby?”
