Hell to Pay (The Harry Russo Diaries Book 4) Page 3

  “You didn’t tell me that he’d be here,” she muttered angrily, grabbing my arm.

  I followed her gaze, spotting the object of her dismay. Maxwell Hart, the newly elected leader of the Coven’s governing body, the Conclave, was seated on the dais along with Eleanor, Nash’s mother and pack alpha. Eleanor was a member of the Triad, one of the leaders of the werewolf pack. I searched the stage, but neither Charles Harris nor James Martin, the other two alphas of the Triad, were there. No surprise really as neither was quick to hide their dislike of vampires, and they both tended to avoid these sorts of gatherings unless absolutely required.

  “What is your problem with Max?” I was truly baffled by Tess’s reaction to the man. He was a nice guy and an extremely powerful practitioner. He was also easy on the eyes in a ruggedly handsome kind of way, his black, wavy hair with its signature white lock at his temple giving him an air of distinction.

  “So tell me what goes on at one of these things?” Blatantly ignoring my question, Tess turned to Isaac, who stood a discreet distance behind us. I frowned at her. There was something going on with her. It wasn’t like Tess not to share.

  Before I could push the issue, a commotion across the room drew our attention. The large double doors had swung open, and someone stood at the entrance. The crowd, now focussed on the new arrival, buzzed, their conversations getting louder and more excited.

  “Is that?” Tess stood on her tip-toes, grabbing my arm to keep her balance.

  “Whoa. It’s Tomas, but…” I stared across the room, at a loss for words, watching as Tomas walked towards the dais.

  “Tomas, two-point-oh, more like,” Tess replied, sounding awed.

  I had to admit, it did look like Tomas had had some sort of upgrade. It wasn’t just the navy pinstripe suit tailored to fit perfectly, or even his neatly coifed hair, there was something else. He had always been handsome, like he stepped off the pages of GQ, but now he was almost god-like in his beauty. He appeared bigger, healthier, more robust. He was…well-fed. And then it dawned on me.

  “Omigod! He’s a vampire.” I looked at Isaac, who merely nodded in agreement.

  “Well, duh,” Tess scoffed. “He’s always been a vampire.”

  “No, I mean he’s really a vampire, a full vampire.” I turned back to Isaac. “Is that where he’s been all this time? He died his first death?” Tomas was a dhamphir, a born vampire like me, and as such had already lived well beyond a normal mortal life-span, but as a living man. To become a full vampire meant that he had given up his mortal life or had it taken from him. “What happened? Do you know?”

  Isaac frowned and shook his head. “I do not. I am no longer, as you say, in the loop with such things.”

  “I can’t believe that Salvador never told me.” You would think that the transformation of his right-hand man from living to undead might have come up in one of our weekly conversations over the last four weeks.

  Tomas stopped in the centre of the empty semicircle in front of Salvador. “Magister, Patrón,” he said, invoking the title reserved for when a vampire addresses his sire. He dipped gracefully into a low, respectful bow as the crowd exploded in a fury of excited chatter.

  “He’ll be insufferable now,” Tess said with a roll of her eyes. She was probably right. Tomas had always been a bit of a vampire snob, and now he could claim Salvador as his maker.

  “Welcome back, my son,” Salvador said as he rose from his seat, his arms held up in benediction. “Welcome.” He cast his gaze over the mass of spectators. “Friends, allies, join me in congratulating Tomas on his ascension.”

  As one, the vampires in the crowd snapped to attention. “We are one! We are legion! Together in blood!” The words, spoken by every vampire in the room, echoed through the chamber as the crowd burst into applause.

  “Wow, it’s like the Stepford Vampires.” Tess eyed the room nervously.

  I turned to look at Isaac, raising an eyebrow in question. “Is that like your team cheer or something?”

  “Some traditions need to be observed. They are the very glue of our civilized society.”

  Admonished, I tried to appear contrite. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry, Isaac. I shouldn’t have made light of the occasion.” I shrugged and then grinned as Tomas approached. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have some fun.” I nudged Tess with my elbow. “Do you see that, Tess?” I put my hand up as if fending off a bright light.

  “Omigod, Harry! What is it? It’s blinding.” Tess held up her hands, pretending to shade her eyes. “Where are my sunglasses when I need them?”

  “It’s positively glowing,” I replied, struggling to keep from laughing. “You might even say it…”

  “Sparkles!” Tess and I shouted out together. We gave Tomas our best shit-eating grins.

  “Yeah, ha-ha, Russo. So funny.” He lifted his chin haughtily. “Your time will come.”

  He came to stand beside me. I guess even with his new status, he wasn’t invited up on the stage either. I couldn’t help but stare at him. The transformation was remarkable. He was still Tomas, but…more. I narrowed my eyes and examined him with my nifty supernatural power meter ability—an ability that seemed to come from my necromantic gift. He had received a power boost as well as a makeover with his transition into full vampire mode.

  “What’s the matter, Russo? Like what you see?” Tomas leered at me, opening his mouth slightly to seductively run his tongue over his teeth. “It’s true what they say, you know. Even the sex is better as a vampire.”

  “That’s funny.” Tess leaned across me to address her comments directly to Tomas. “I heard they suck.”

  Tomas bristled, his smile becoming a scowl.

  “Ewww, put your fangs away, Tomas.” I pushed myself between the two of them before they decided to come to blows. “No one here is interested in hearing about your sex life, fangboy.” I turned away and focussed on the dais, where Salvador had begun to address the crowd, not really listening but glad to have the distraction. I couldn’t help but be curious about Tomas’s transformation. One day the same thing was very likely going to happen to me. I tried not to think about it too much, but when I did, I just assumed I would still be me, that nothing, other than I could kiss watching the sunrise goodbye, would change. I glanced at Tomas again out of the corner of my eye. He at least seemed happy with the change. I bit my lip in thought.

  Tomas snorted and leaned towards me. “Spit it out, Russo. You know you want to ask.” He kept his voice low as Salvador and the other leaders began to address some matter of joint importance.

  “Did it…I mean, how…?” I bit my lip again, unsure what I wanted to know.

  “Yet another betrayal by your mother.” Tomas all but spat out the words.

  “My mother!” I slapped my hand over my mouth at my outburst and glanced around to see if anyone noticed. “My mother?” I repeated, quietly.

  “She and I were friends once. Or so I thought.” For a moment, Tomas had a faraway look in his eye, like he was remembering something, but then he scowled, giving his head a shake. “Deirdre used our friendship to lure me out. The Mariposa’s guards were waiting.”

  I stared at Tomas, wide-eyed, unsure what to say. My mother, who I had thought dead my entire life, had proven to be a real piece of work. She had plotted against Salvador with the Mariposa, going so far as to conceive a child to be used against him in a grab for power. That she had turned out to be less than maternally inclined and a back-stabbing bitch to boot came as no surprise.

  “I hear you killed the bitch,” Tomas continued.

  I stared at him in confusion. I hadn’t killed my mother. She had done what she did best, run off and abandoned me yet again. Not that I was going to complain about that. Good riddance, as far as I was concerned.

  “The Mariposa,” he said, seeing my bewilderment. “Impressive, Russo. I didn’t know you had it in you.”

  “She tried to kill me first,” I blurted out.

  Tomas smirked and then tu
rned his attention back to the dais. It appeared that the minor petitions had been dealt with and the main event was about to begin.

  ***

  There was no trial. It was, for all intents and purposes, an execution. Very few vampires survived spiking, or so I was told. The three vampires had been caught after rampaging across the city, feeding viciously on humans, discarding their torn and mutilated bodies like so much trash. The killing spree had created a citywide panic in the norm population who believed a sadistic serial killer was on the loose. Of course, that wasn’t why the vampires were being punished. No, this whole dog and pony show was for the sole offense of disobeying Salvador, the loss of human life taking a backseat to ignoring the Magister’s edict.

  As Magister, Salvador was the law within the supernatural community. While the leaders of the other two main supernatural groups in town, the Werewolf Triad and the Witch Conclave, ruled within their own communities and were often consulted on matters affecting the Cimmerian as a whole, they had ceded their rights to govern when they had agreed to support Salvador as Magister. It was a move that prevented a lot of bloodshed over the years and was fairly unique compared to other territories around the globe where the various supernatural communities jostled for position, often gaining power through bloody show of force, the various species constantly at war with one another.

  In preparation for the Mariposa’s arrival a month ago, Salvador had restricted vampires to only feeding within the confines of designated clubs, like Dante’s. The Mariposa’s people had been apprised of the edict, and assurances had been made on the Mariposa’s part. We quickly learned how worthless her word was, when the first body turned up.

  The volume of the crowd suddenly rose, pulling my thoughts back to the present as the spectators on the far side of the chamber parted, and several vampire guards marched in, escorting the prisoners across the room to stand in front of the dais. The first of the rogue vampires was barely able to remain upright and had to be supported between two of the guards. He was gaunt, his eyes sunken and his cheeks hollow. Silver shackles had been fastened to his wrists for the transport, and I could see them burning the surrounding skin, turning it angry red. The prisoner appeared to be mumbling incoherently and didn’t look up as he was brought to a halt to stand before the stage.

  The second prisoner walked on his own accord between his vampire guards. He was the worse for wear, his hair unkempt, his clothes in tatters as if he had been in a fight, and he had the desperate, hungry look of a predator. Starving, he was probably even more dangerous now than he had been four weeks ago. He was also shackled, the silver burning on his wrists, but he showed no visible discomfort. As he came to a stop beside his fellow prisoner, he raised his head and I glared at him. It was Juan Carlo, the creepy, little vampire who had the ability to tamper with people’s minds. He had used his ability to render his victims helpless, terrorizing them and silencing them at the same time. He had also tried to use it on me, but my shields had withstood his invasion. As if my thoughts drew his attention, he turned to stare at me, lifting his shackled hands to tap his temple in salute. Even facing final death, he was still a cheeky bastard.

  “I thought there were supposed to be three of them,” Tess said, interrupting my thoughts.

  “The third was so weak he couldn’t even survive the month-long purge,” Tomas answered with a sneer.

  “So what happens next?” I asked, taking advantage of Tomas’s talkative mood.

  “Watch and see,” he replied, turning back to the stage. So much for being talkative.

  A tall, severe-looking vampire, dressed in black tails and carrying a long, ebony staff, stepped to centre stage and bowed to Salvador. Salvador nodded and with a wave of his hand indicated the man should get on with it.

  “Who’s that?” I had never seen him before despite all of my weekly trips to Dante’s.

  Isaac leaned forward to answer. “He’s Grimes, the Magister’s Orator.”

  Before I could ask Isaac to elucidate, Grimes began to speak.

  “Hear ye, hear ye, all those gathered do act as witness. Prisoners, you stand before the Magister charged with the crime of willful disobedience to his word. Know that his justice is swift and without mercy.”

  Grimes brought his staff down to pound on the stage three times, and the crowd once again parted as what appeared to be two large, wooden coffins were wheeled to stand upright behind the prisoners.

  Juan Carlo merely lifted his chin haughtily, but his fellow rogue moaned and begged for his life, falling to his knees between his two guards. They hoisted him to his feet, just as the coffin lid was lifted open.

  Beside me, Tess gasped in surprise. “Damn! He’s going to be a vampire pin cushion.”

  I nodded in agreement. The inside of the coffin was lined with some type of smooth stone—granite or marble maybe. The lid had been fitted with row after row of shining, silver spikes concentrated in the torso area of the box. Each spike was at least ten inches long. When the lid was replaced on the coffin, they would pierce its occupant’s body, leaving the head and heart free from harm. Because each spike was made of, or at least covered in, silver, the piercing would not only be painful, but the vampire would not be able to heal his injuries as the silver poisoned his body. If he didn’t bleed to death or die from organ failure, he would eventually die of silver poisoning.

  As the first prisoner was dragged to the coffin, Tomas turned to me, a grin on his face. “Do you think you can stomach it, Russo? You might want to step back out of the splash zone.”

  “The what?” I glanced around. It did appear, in fact, like some spectators were backing away through the crowd, while others pushed forward, eager to be closer to the action.

  “Tomas has a point, Harry. You may wish to move a little farther away.” Isaac stepped to the side, clearing a path for us to move if we chose.

  “No, wait!” Tess grabbed my arm and then pulled something from her purse. “Every time you go to one of these vampire things you end up wrecking your clothes. I came prepared.” A clear plastic rain poncho materialized, followed by a second.

  “Rain ponchos?” I stared at her in surprise. “Great idea!”

  We quickly pulled them on, ignoring Tomas’s mocking laughter.

  “Laugh all you want, fangboy,” I said to him. “I refuse to ruin another dress because of vampire shenanigans.”

  I turned my attention back to the stage where Salvador sat with a bored expression. His eyes met mine, and he frowned as he took in Tess’s and my new fashion accessories. The frown gave way to a look of amusement and he barked out a laugh. The crowd hushed momentarily, the guards eyeing Salvador in confusion. He simply nodded and waved at them to continue.

  The guards hauled the vampire to the coffin, pulling his shackled hands above his head and attaching them to a hook at the top of the coffin. Next they shackled each leg at the bottom of the coffin, stretching the vampire out, immobilizing him. Without pause or fanfare, the lid of the coffin lowered shut. The vampire screamed as the tips of the spikes drove into his body. The crowd roared their approval. It was almost deafening, yet you could still hear the agonized cries of the prisoner. I clenched my teeth, refusing to appear weak and look away.

  The lid continued to close, slowing as it met resistance. The crowd hushed, straining to hear the prisoner’s screams, which had become wheezy cries as the spikes pierced his lungs. As the lid lowered the last few inches, there was a hiss followed by a loud pop. The coffin blew open, bits of gore and blood spraying outward as its occupant exploded violently, a common occurrence with vampire true death. The crowd went wild.

  I looked down at my poncho, which was now covered in blood spatter. Tess was a genius.

  Chapter Three

  “And the second one went about the same as the first, except for the whole exploding-into-gooey-bits part.” I shook my head as I thought of Juan Carlo. He had stepped up to the coffin with no prodding from the guards whatsoever. There had been a brief moment when I
thought I saw fear in his eyes, but then the lid was lowered. He never made a sound, much to the crowd’s disappointment. The coffin lid had closed tightly and had been secured in place. Juan Carlo would be locked up until Salvador decided to let him out, if he decided to let him out.

  “Omigod! It’s so barbaric.” Barbie, a werewolf and one of my daytime staff in the coffee shop, shivered and made a face. “Don’t get me wrong, the evil little bugger deserved it, but still…I’m glad I didn’t have to be there.” She shuddered again then turned away to wipe down the already pristine counter-top.

  Tiffy, another of the daytime staff who was also Fae, a brownie to be precise, licked her lips. “What did they do with the remains of the first vampire?” She ran her tongue across her perfect human teeth, deep in thought, and I tried not to think of the shark-like double row of razor-sharp choppers hiding behind her glamour, or what she might have wanted with a bucket of liquefied vampire guts.

  “I don’t know. Probably left them out in the sun to be turned to ash.”

  Tiffy shook her head at the apparent waste and then returned to the task of restocking the coffee supplies. It was midmorning, and the commuter rush of coffee drinkers had passed. We were in the lull before the lunch-rush crowd. The coffee shop was my latest business venture. I already owned Contain Yourself, the flower shop next door—although Mrs. Potts, Tiffy’s aunt, really took care of the day-to-day business—and since I now owned the entire building thanks to a deal with Salvador, it made sense to fill the remaining vacant shop space on the main level. A coffee shop seemed like the logical choice, not only for the neighbourhood but because it turned out Isaac was a foodie and liked to bake. Even with our overactive metabolisms, there was only so much baking that Tess and I could eat by ourselves. I called the shop the Full Fat Coffee Company due to Isaac’s refusal to serve anything low calorie or low fat. It had been open for about a month and had succeeded beyond my expectations. Not only had we built up a steady base of norm customers—they loved our coffee and our bakery items—our later-than-usual nighttime hours allowed us to cater to a whole other clientele of the supernatural variety. We were so busy, in fact, I’d hired two more staff besides Barbie.