Outcast, page 8
part #1 of The Grey Gates Series
The same two pink convertibles were in the parking lot when Max drove in. They seemed a good match for the two women who had been in the bar during Max’s last visit. She wondered if the women had left at all, or if they had been at the Hunter’s Tooth for three days straight. It wouldn’t be the first time a supernatural being had decided to have a prolonged drinking session. And with Malik’s influence on the bar, there was surprisingly little trouble.
There was also a large, sleek black vehicle that screamed of wealth and power, its windows heavily tinted, taking up a full four spaces by some truly inconsiderate parking. There was magic around that black vehicle that made Max’s skin crawl, so when she got out of her pick-up, she left Cas and Pol on guard in the back of it. There wasn’t much worth stealing in her pick-up, but it would be difficult to replace. And she didn’t want to walk home.
Ruutti was already out of her vehicle, eyes travelling around the area, expression hard to read. Max waited for her to say something cutting, but the detective simply lifted a brow at Max.
Wondering what Ruutti was thinking, and then deciding it might be better not to know, Max led the way into the bar.
There were a few more people scattered around the internal space, including the two women and suited man she remembered from a few days before. There was a chattering group of youngsters by the pool tables, sounding like they were having harmless fun. And there was a still figure shrouded in shadow in one of the horseshoe-shaped booths that gave Max the same uneasy feeling as the black vehicle outside.
She headed to the bar. Malik was dressed in a similar manner to the last time she had seen him, although she thought he had changed his t-shirt.
“Twice in one week. I am blessed,” he said, smiling.
She accepted the kiss on her cheek and returned the smile, but she had lost his attention. His eyes had travelled past her to Ruutti.
It was the first time she had seen Malik unsettled. He froze completely, staring at the petite detective.
“Little cousin. It’s been a while since I’ve seen your kind in here. Be welcome,” Malik said at length, voice conveying seductive, caramel-coated warmth.
“I had no idea there were any pure blood males left,” Ruutti answered. It was one of the most unguarded things Max had ever heard the woman say, and she took a closer look between the two.
“Ah, so that’s what you are,” Max said, half to herself. She had always known that Malik was something other, and after seeing Ruutti’s effect on people, had suspected the same of Ruutti, despite the woman appearing to be completely human. It had not occurred to Max before now that they were made of similar material. It explained a lot. Malik used his influencing abilities to keep the peace in the bar and make sure everyone was welcome. Ruutti wielded her abilities like a weapon to get what she wanted. And Max could not sense when either of them were using their powers.
“There are a few of us,” Malik said, staring at Ruutti. “More than you might think.”
“How would you know? Aren’t you tied here?” Ruutti asked, still seeming to be shaken.
Malik smiled, and even though it was directed at Ruutti, Max still found herself leaning forward, wanting to be closer to his warmth. As soon as she realised what she was doing, she straightened. He normally kept his innate magic subtle, untraceable to her, and although she had witnessed its effects, she had never been caught in it. She had never realised just how powerful he was. “This is the modern age, little cousin,” Malik said, laughter in his voice. “We have many ways of keeping in touch.”
For once, Ruutti seemed at a loss for words. And Malik was not his usual self. Max had never seen him less than self-assured, surrounded by his personal charm.
Max folded her arms, waiting for them to recover. When they simply stood and stared at each other for a long moment, and neither showed signs of moving, she cleared her throat, catching their attention. “Malik, you called?”
“I did. You’d asked about dark magic and blood rituals,” Malik said. His eyes slid past Max and Ruutti to the shadowed figure in the booth. “Someone is here to answer you.”
“That’s-” Max began, and broke off, not quite sure how to finish that thought. Impressive didn’t seem to be the right word. Not with the chill of the dark magic seeping into the air. Dangerous was the next word that occurred to her, but she had absolute confidence that Malik would not harm her, or risk the neutrality of the Hunter’s Tooth.
“I can’t take credit,” Malik said, almost back to his normal, easy manner. “He insisted. I’ll bring some drinks over, if you want to go and introduce yourselves.”
“Sure,” Max said, turning towards the booth. She took a step towards the shadowed figure and her feet dragged on the floor, abruptly too heavy for her to lift. She could feel magic coiling around her. A test. She hated this kind of game playing. She pulled out her Marshal’s badge, the silver gleaming, and the weighted spell lifted, letting her walk across the floor, Ruutti beside her.
“You’d best have a fabulous reason for that little bit of nonsense,” Ruutti said, each word bitten out. The detective was as furious as Max had ever seen her, glaring at the shadowed figure.
“Not really.” The voice was dry as desert sand, containing a crackle that might have been rusted amusement. “But I so rarely venture out, you must permit me my little indulgences.”
“I will-” Ruutti began. Max stood on her foot, earning a glare from the petite woman.
“Malik said that you came in person to speak to us,” Max said, moving away from Ruutti, hoping the detective would get the hint. “What do you want to tell us, Lord Kolbyr?”
As Ruutti hissed a breath that seemed to be genuine shock, there was another crackling sound that Max identified a moment later as laughter. The shadows lifted and she almost took an involuntary step back as Lord Kolbyr was revealed.
He was a delicately made man, who would be not much taller than Ruutti if they stood next to each other. He had pale skin that looked like he had not seen sunlight for decades, or perhaps more, and sleek black hair that was brushed back from his forehead, emphasising his pallor and the vivid green of his eyes. He was also quite beautiful. For a vampire.
It was not his outward appearance that made her want to run away. It was his power. He was coated in magic so dark it made her skin crawl. The shadows he had held, disguising himself, and the weighting spell he had cast on her and Ruutti were just the tiniest bit of the power he wielded.
“You are every bit as clever as dear Audhilde reports,” Kolbyr said, lips peeling back from his teeth in a smile.
Before Max could find a suitable reply, Malik had arrived at the table with a tray of drinks. Coffee for Max, something cloudy in a tall glass frosted with ice for Kolbyr and a round glass full of a lemon-scented drink for Ruutti. Malik, an experienced and expert bar-tender, left as silently as he had arrived.
“Do sit, please,” Kolbyr said, waving to the booth around him. “The young siren tells me that you have questions.” Young siren could only mean Malik. Max had always thought that Malik was past his first century, so not exactly young. But then, she supposed that when someone was as old as the vampire, everyone else must seem young.
“I do,” Max confirmed, settling to one edge of the booth, silently amused when Ruutti mirrored her position. If Lord Kolbyr decided to cause trouble, there was not much either of them would be able to do, but they were both of the same mind that they each wanted to be close to an exit. Just in case. “I am curious what warranted your personal attention,” Max said. With some of the older vampires, it was dangerous to ask them direct questions too often.
The vampire took a sip of the drink Malik had brought him, his eyes gleaming as he looked at Ruutti and then back at Max.
“One of my people told me that questions were being asked. An expert sought. I was curious,” Lord Kolbyr said. It was a more direct and comprehensive answer than Max had expected.
With Ruutti unusually silent, her attention skipping between the drink Malik had brought her and the ancient vampire, it was left to Max to make the next move.
“Audhilde called me to a body with knife markings,” Max began bluntly, not touching the coffee in front of her, even though Malik had mixed if half-and-half with milk. “A human male. Someone had carved him up with what looked like ritual marks. I wanted to consult with someone versed in dark magic and blood rituals, so I asked Malik if he knew anyone.”
“And then word reached me,” Kolbyr concluded. “So far, it’s very dull.”
“Earlier today, the detective here called me to another death scene. Another human male. Only this time, he had survived longer and whoever killed him had made markings on the ground around him using his blood. They included the symbol of Arkus,” Max said, the name flat on her tongue. It didn’t feel right speaking the name here, in this place which Malik worked so hard to keep neutral and welcoming.
But she had sparked Kolbyr’s attention, she saw. The old vampire was leaning forward, listening to her every word.
“Describe the markings,” he said.
“We can show you,” Ruutti said, drawing a small, sleek device from her pocket. An electronic tablet. The Marshals had tablets, too, except theirs were about three times as thick and twice as large. But then, Max did not suppose that the one in Ruutti’s hands had come from law enforcement supplies. Ruutti liked the best of things, and wasn’t afraid to treat herself to new toys.
The screen lit up, and Ruutti flicked it to a photograph. “If you swipe left, it will take you through the markings,” she told the vampire, putting the tablet on the table between them.
“Swipe left?” Kolbyr asked, sounding genuinely confused.
“Like this.” Ruutti demonstrated.
“Ah. A mouse click without the mouse,” Kolbyr said, and bent his head to the tablet. “And does it go bigger?”
“Pinch to zoom,” Ruutti said, and demonstrated that as well. Max wasn’t sure if the detective realised she had gotten closer to the vampire until Ruutti sat back, posture stiff, and picked up her drink with a white-knuckled hand.
Kolbyr ignored them, although Max was quite sure he was fully aware of their nervousness. He would almost certainly be able to hear Max’s rapid heartbeat, for one thing. He might be dressed in a hand-made suit and look like a harmless man, but vampires were master predators and none of them survived as long as Kolbyr had without being aware of their surroundings.
Max picked up her coffee while Kolbyr looked through the photographs. Sitting drinking coffee while watching an ancient vampire scroll through pictures from a crime scene was certainly one of the stranger experiences of Max’s life. As Kolbyr scrolled through, she went over the images in her mind. The careful placement of the symbols. The cracked concrete. The stench in the air.
“Most interesting,” Kolbyr said, settling back and picking up his drink. He was old enough to be able to mask his feelings very well, but Max had the impression he was unsettled. “Someone has been studying things they should not be meddling with.”
“What makes you say that?” Ruutti asked, taking her tablet back and tucking it away.
Kolbyr did not answer her, turning instead to Max. “Audhilde called you, you say? You, of all people?”
“She called for a Marshal. I was given the assignment,” Max clarified. She had no clear idea of the vampire hierarchy in the city, as most of the old, powerful ones tended to stay within the heart of the city, living among humans and not causing the sort of trouble that required the Marshals. But she had the sense the Audhilde was among the higher-ranked of the vampires. And Lord Kolbyr was a law unto himself, from everything she had heard about him. He apparently owned an entire city block, complete with parkland. He lived in an enormous house, with a hundred empty rooms and a dozen silent servants. Or so the tales told. Max was never sure how much truth there was to bar gossip, but having met the vampire, she could easily imagine him owning at least one city block, and possibly more.
“And she did not call me herself,” Kolbyr said. It was the same, rasping tone he had used before but ice slid down Max’s spine.
“She has not seen the second crime scene or body,” Max pointed out.
“Ah. Yes. A detail I had missed,” Kolbyr said. Max did not believe him. He had been testing her. Seeing if she was loyal to Audhilde? Or seeing if Max would stand up to him? She couldn’t tell.
“You know the ritual that the killer was trying to effect,” Max said.
“I suspect so,” Kolbyr confirmed, although it had not been a question. “There are a few possibilities. None of them are widely known,” he added, expression pinched for a moment, clearly displeased.
“What are the possibilities?” Max asked bluntly.
“The most likely one is someone trying to connect to the great lord’s domain,” Kolbyr said. The reverence in his voice made Max’s skin crawl again.
“Connect? You mean, someone wants to talk to Him?” Max asked, mouth suddenly dry. She would never understand the fascination some people had with Arkus, or the lengths that those people would go to in an effort to speak to Him, or break into His domain. The tales of the torment and damnation in the underworld should be more than enough to put people off, as far as Max was concerned. But, year after year, more idiots tried dark magic in the hope of catching a glimpse into the world below. The idiots seemed to think that there was power and wealth to be had there. They seemed to ignore all the other stories. The ones of endless pain and torture. She shivered, remembering the searing heat burning her skin, lungs full of acrid smoke, blind from the smoke and the fire. She blinked, clearing her eyes, and hoped that the vampire had not noticed her distraction.
“As if He would respond to a mere mortal’s request,” Kolbyr said, back to being displeased. “As if such a ritual was like making a telephone call.”
“So, the first possibility is someone trying to get in touch with Him,” Max said, forcing the words out. That was not good. The daylight world survived because He was safely trapped away, locked behind the Grey Gates, unable to break free.
Arkus had broken free once before. Long, long before Max or anyone else in the city had been born. The world had nearly been destroyed by Him and His legions of demons crawling out from the underworld, bringing fire and smoke and pain and death and destruction with them. Thousands had died in the first attacks. Thousands upon thousands had died while Arkus walked on the surface of the world. What had once been a daylight world, with the possibility of light and joy and hope and love and laughter, had been twisted, corrupted into something more like the world below. There had been no Order then. No organisation to stand against the darkness. The entire world had almost fallen to Arkus before He had been caged, set back behind the Grey Gates, the Lady Herself creating the Gates out of Her own power, sealing them behind Him.
Or so the tales told. No one alive today knew for certain what had happened, just that Arkus had been set back into his own realm and had never re-emerged. Max’s palms itched with the memory of molten metal burning her skin away. The Grey Gates had not remained closed. Arkus tried to breach them from time to time, building up His power. Even though His realm was outside the daylight world, the effects of His activities were felt in the daylight world. The Order called those effects Portents, signalling that the dark lord was attempting to rise again - attempting to break free of his own realm and take over the daylight world, and perhaps even try to reach the Lady Herself. The Order’s records showed that the Portents showed up around every hundred years. His last efforts had been stopped eight years before. The Portents that had warned of His efforts had started two years before that, around the same time as the Wild had surged forward, swallowing vast swathes of land that the city had once relied on. Max wasn’t sure if the two things were connected or not. What history told her, though, was that after Arkus’ last attempt to break free, He would need time to gather His energy to try again.
But that assumed that Arkus was trying to break free through His own efforts. Not that He was being aided by fools in the daylight world.
With the smell of smoke in her nose and her ears ringing with the echoes of screams, Max picked up her coffee, her hand trembling. She cradled the mug between both hands, not wanting to show weakness in front of Lord Kolbyr, but not able to completely hide her reaction.
“There are other possibilities,” the vampire said, drawing the words out. “Someone could be trying to bring one of the inhabitants of the deep through to this world.”
She was going to be sick. Seeing the damage and destruction that creatures from the Wild could cause in the city was bad enough. Anything coming into the daylight world from the world below would be far, far worse. Arkus’ court in the underworld was supposed to be home to a host of powerful, dangerous demons, any one of which could cause chaos in the daylight world.
“That’s not all, though, is it?” Ruutti asked unexpectedly. The woman was staring at the vampire, all colour drained from her face.
“No,” Kolbyr said, with another rasping sound that was his version of laughter. “The other possibility is that someone is trying a ritual of opening.”
The words hung in the air between them for a long, long moment, Max trying not to be sick, trying not to think about the implications of what he had said. All the worst nightmares and memories threatened to surge back up again, and it was all she could do to sit still and breathe for long, long moments.
“Opening,” she said at length, the word too big for her mouth to hold.
Kolbyr rose to his feet and she stumbled to hers, making room for him to leave the booth. He stood barely as high as her shoulder, but his presence coiled around her, the miasma of darkness making her skin crawl again. He twitched his cuffs into place, then glanced up at her, eyes bright.
“It has not been attempted for several hundred years. Before my time,” Kolbyr said, a smile curving his lips. “But it is said that with the right key, the Grey Gates can be opened.”
Chapter eight
