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I do, and I’m touched at your concern. I know the coterie will keep you safe, but if you need something from me, you only need to let me know.
A vampire, ask a slayer for help? It seemed wrong on the most basic level, and yet, I was touched by the offer, and I told him, I have no idea what we’re doing, or where this is going, but I find myself touched by your concern as well.
Chapter 20
Ryan
The Slayer organization had long ago put a kill switch in our vehicles, in case someone hacked into them and took them over, so I didn’t actually have to resort to using one of my older vehicles, but it seemed appropriate to do so. I didn’t think twice about driving the BMW to my garage, though, so I could retrieve the Jeep.
By mid-day, the RTMC mechanics were making home visits to install kill switches in the vehicles of everyone with power and influence in and out of the city. Over the following weeks, most every supernatural in town had a kill switch installed in every vehicle they owned, and I understand the RTMC shops in every city were busy doing so.
My people already had the VIN number for all of Marco’s vehicles, and our hackers got the information from the manufacturer for the car in question within hours, so we had everything that’d happened to it for the past thirty days. We knew when and how the hack had been put in, but whoever had done it had taken down not only the cameras at the dealership, but also the cameras at every business and red light and intersection within a seven-mile radius.
Had a Slayer done it? Because I couldn’t imagine anyone else with a hacker team capable of interfering with so many businesses and governmental organizations. There were state cameras taken down as well as city ones, and hundreds of businesses.
No, there was another organization capable of that.
The Concilio.
It made sense, that they’d be nervous about this particular power couple, but I didn’t think that was it. No, whoever was responsible for the whole skinner thing didn’t want them together. I knew it in my bones despite the fact I had nothing concrete pointing me in that direction.
Would they continue to try to kill them? Would Mordecai and Apollonius put a stop to the assassination attempts? My bet was on the latter.
As far as my part in it, I felt like having Marco and Cora in charge was the healthiest situation available for the humans, so I’d do what I could to help keep them alive, and that meant a phone call to Cora to tell her what we’d found. Drake Security likely had the same information and the same analysis of said information, but it felt important to share when I could.
And then I drove to Etta, who’d bedded down for the day in The Diamond Club. Marco had felt our little experiment important enough, he’d told her to proceed with our plan.
I’d made it into the basement of The Diamond Club many years ago, before Abbott had hired Eric to buttress his security. Since then I’d made it into the tiny office once, but had to leave within a few seconds lest I be seen. It was a tiny space, with no place for me to plant myself so I wouldn’t be brushed against while people moved around.
On this day, I was led to the office I’m pretty sure was originally a closet. The eagle shifter who escorted me opened a hidden door in the back wall and motioned for me to go through, which meant I’d have him at my back, which I didn’t like, but saw no way around. I made my way down steps made back in the twenties or thirties, so they were much too steep, but they got the job done.
Once downstairs, it wasn’t so bad, and I was impressed Marco had made changes as quickly as he had. The basement had just been a barebones room the last time I was down here — a few of the tables and chairs that matched what was upstairs, a garden bench along one wall, and a metal desk I think must’ve been here since the fifties or sixties.
The concrete block walls had been painted, industrial flooring had been installed, a conference-type table was in the center of the room with office chairs around it, and sofas you’d expect to see in a hotel lobby lined two of the walls. Professional and efficient.
Etta was seated on one of the sofas, and she put her phone away and stood when I walked down the steps.
“Marco sent a table he tells me will stand up to a vampire arm-wrestling contest,” she said, motioning towards the apparatus at the back of the room. “He also said we can wear mirrored sunglasses to cut down on the gazing issue, rather than using blindfolds. Do you want to use the restroom before we start?”
I’d hydrated well the day before but hadn’t had anything to drink in six hours, so I hoped to last the duration. “I used the facilities upstairs. I’m ready if you are.”
Two pairs of glasses were on the table, which I noted was made for arm-wrestling, complete with the pegs for us to hold into, rather than holding each other’s hands beneath our arms. It was around forty inches tall, meaning we’d once again stand for this, rather than sit.
* * * *
Etta
I’d fed on the fear of three of our flock members the night before, and then another four upon rising. I’d also paid Harrison, the King of the Imperator Crocodiles, a handsome sum to allow me to feed blood from him upon awakening. I’d fed from a powerful grizzly the day before, and that wasn’t cheap, either. I was as powered up as I was going to get, and it was all I could do to hold it in, so I didn’t leak it all over the place. I’d been careful not to be within two miles of Marco, because there’s a decent chance our inner vampires would’ve recognized me as the more powerful of us.
But still, despite the fact I threw everything I had into moving Ryan’s arm down and backwards, it held firm. We were at an impasse.
Hours passed.
And then more hours.
But it wasn’t boring. We didn’t talk, but we were there with each other. Our auras touching, our focus and concentration arrowed in on the same activity. I’d never experienced anything like it before — slayer and vampire vying for supremacy, but without rancor. I’d go so far as to say we competed with affection.
Not that we both weren’t giving it everything we had, but still — it was spirited rather than aggressive.
