Asil’s Fifth Date Scheherazade #8
“No,” he lied. But saying yes would be a lie in another way, because she was thinking about drugs. What he’d taken affected him far more than any mere drug ever could.
The car slid to a stop beside them. It was late and the traffic was light, so Bobby could do that without incurring the wrath of other drivers. Asil opened the back door and helped Mari-Brigid into the car. Then he walked around to the front and opened the driver’s side.
“Get into the back,” he told Bobby in the voice of an Alpha who needed to be obeyed right now.
Bobby had closed the back door and was belting himself in before he paused. “Hey—”
“Hush,” Asil told him. He pulled back into traffic and then woke his phone and told it the address he was taking them to.
“What are we doing?” asked Mari-Brigid in the soothing tones one used for monsters.
“Playing tag,” he said. “And, for the record, we are not ‘it.’ ”
“You’re bleeding,” Bobby said in arrested tones. “How did I not see that?”
The seat behind Asil creaked as Bobby leaned forward to look more closely. Asil had allowed the pack magic that hid the wounds and the blood to dissipate when he’d gotten into the car. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that.
“Vampire,” Asil conceded. “Alvarez, I believe. At least he was an old vampire with a reason”—Asil couldn’t help a laugh—“a valid reason to keep his face hidden.”
“You’re drunk,” said Mari-Brigid calmly. “You should pull over and let Bobby drive.”
“Not drunk,” Asil said, weaving through traffic that was moving too slowly.
Timing was going to be very important. He needed to get to her.
No. Get to his destination. “Blood exchange with an old vampire leaves one disoriented. Fortunately, I have someone to share the benefits with. It halves the effect.”
Shut up, said his wolf. We are talking too much.
“Blood exchange,” said Bobby. “One of them didn’t just feed from you, you fed from them?”
“Is that bad?” asked Mari-Brigid.
“I’ve never seen anyone get through one and remain conscious,” Bobby said. “And I’ve never seen an exchange with one of the old vampires.”
“I’m the Moor,” Asil said. “Left the vampire unconscious.”
Lightning rang through his nervous system as his prey tried to call him using the blood bond that now existed between them.
Call us, the wolf said. Who does he think he is to try to call us to his side, as if we were a dog?
“He’s awake now.”
But Asil’s timing was going to be good. He pulled out of the arterial road and into a quieter neighborhood.
He parked in the same spot he’d used when he’d been here before, in front of a large Victorian where two people waited on the porch.
One of them ran down the steps: Ruby. Ruby wasn’t supposed to be here.
I hope you know what you are doing, growled the wolf. I don’t know that dropping a nest of vampires down upon the head of our Ruby is good courting tactics.
Asil had only known two addresses in Seattle well enough to make them suit his purpose.
This one, he judged, could be made safe against vampires because the old mansion was a home.
He’d asked Ruby to make sure the old Victorian mansion was clear of people—owners and her team.
Her team included—and he’d been quite clear on that—her.
If he’d been entirely himself, he probably would be worried that he liked it that Ruby had not listened to him. Had known she would be here.
Of course she is here, his wolf said. She is our Ruby.
“Out,” Asil barked at his passengers. “Both of you.”
Ruby ignored the two people getting out of the back of his car and tapped her fingers on his window. He rolled it down.
“I thought we were going on a date tomorrow.”
He flashed his teeth at her and said, “This isn’t a date. It’s not even a prelude. If we are lucky, none of the bad things will even show up here.” He thought a moment. “Except for the werewolves.”
The expression on her face changed. “Hey. Hey. Are you okay? Are you bleeding?”
The answer to both of those questions was no. He was pretty sure the bites had quit bleeding before they left the venue. He didn’t think she needed to hear that.
Instead, he asked, “Are the wolves here yet?”
“No.” Asil hadn’t noticed Alan until he spoke. That probably wasn’t good. “Just me.”
I saw him approach. He is not an enemy or I would have warned you. We should not linger here.
Not able to hear Asil’s wolf, Alan had kept talking. “The others should—”
Two cars, each with multiple people inside them, parked behind the BMW.
“—be here about now,” Alan said.
“Good.” Asil took a deep breath and tried to center himself. “You might not get any bad guys. I’ve set myself up as the rabbit so at least the Elder Vampire—the Master Vampire—will follow me.” He tipped his head so that Alan could see the bite marks that the high collar of his jacket had covered.
Ruby saw them, too. “Asil.”
There was nothing tidy about them. The vampire had known immediately that Asil was a werewolf—a particular delicacy among vampires. But unlike Asil, he had not known his enemy at first glance.
That was fair. The only time they’d met, the vampire had been newly turned and not aware of how important keeping track of the monsters was.
Arrogance was the besetting sin of old monsters—Asil included. But Asil was careful—a gift he might owe to Mariposa. After she’d killed his mate and stolen her bond with Asil, Asil had run from her because he knew she had a leash that he could not break. He’d been afraid.
As Ruby had been afraid of the fae who had held her captive most of her life. The fae she had killed—with Asil’s encouragement.
Yes, agreed the wolf impatiently. But you’re rambling. We don’t have time for this.
Asil ignored him.
“You were like me,” Asil told Ruby, and could hear the bemusement in his voice.
“What?” she asked.
“Running from someone who could use you to hurt others.”
“Asil—”
“He’s moon drunk,” Alan said. “Getting bitten by an old one is bad.”
“He fed, too,” said Bobby grimly. “I’m afraid—”
Asil lost track of what Bobby was saying, latching onto “afraid.”
The vampire could have done with a little more fear.
He’d understood Asil was a werewolf as soon as he’d gotten close.
But when he’d separated Asil from the crowd, bringing him to a place where there was no one but the two of them, he hadn’t even thought to wonder if his victim was really as mesmerized as he appeared.
Asil had had other plans if the vampire had been more cautious. But he hadn’t expected to need them. From the vampire’s point of view, there was no reason for an old and powerful vampire to worry about a werewolf without his pack to back him up.
Asil was not as old as the Marrok. But he had seen Charles Martel’s grandson put an emperor’s crown on his head—and Charlemagne had become emperor in the year 800.
Asil’s blood had a lot more power than most werewolves’, and he had pulled on his pack’s magic to give it even more potency.
His pack was far away—but Asil was Asil and his Alpha was the Marrok. Power had flooded him.
The most difficult part of the whole business had been allowing the vampire to touch his skin.
It had only been possible because the wolf had allowed it.
A month ago, Asil would have had to come up with a different plan.
But this evening, he flooded a Master Vampire with so much power, he collapsed to the ground writhing in ecstasy.
With a younger vampire, that would have provided Asil the perfect opportunity to kill it. But an old and powerful vampire was never as helpless as it appeared. If Asil had made any move he interpreted as aggressive, he would have recovered well enough to defend himself.
Asil had not needed to feed from him.
Once the vampire had sampled Asil’s blood, he could find Asil anywhere. Asil could have just left the preoccupied vampire and avoided the aftereffects that were making everything more difficult.
But vampires were very difficult to kill, and old vampires even worse than most. This one had minions and a ballroom of humans to feed upon.
When he recovered from the impact of Asil’s blood, he might be smart enough to let Asil go.
Might just hunt down Mari-Brigid and her driver.
Or fall into a feeding frenzy and attack whoever came near.
He needed Alvarez to stay focused on Asil. To be so enraged that he forgot common sense and cunning.
So Asil had fed in his turn—and the taste of dust and rot still lingered on his tongue. For a vampire, in the fog of such a feeding, being fed upon in turn was not something his hindbrain interpreted as an attack.
Asil could have consumed most vampires without feeling much more than indigestion. But like Asil’s blood, the vampire’s had power. It was dangerous, this feeling, both in the way it lit his blood with reckless confidence and in the promise it held for future bliss.
“Asil!”
That was Angus’s voice. He must have been in one of the arriving cars.
Angus would have taken one look at Asil’s eyes and known what his blown pupils meant. Angus was a good Alpha and would never allow any guest in Asil’s condition to run off to confront a monster.
Asil did not have time to win that argument. He could not chance meeting Alvarez anywhere near Mari-Brigid or Bobby. They had both been bitten, and that meant the vampire could probably take control of them. That made them hostages Asil could not afford.
“Be careful,” Asil urged Ruby, and stepped on the gas with more pressure than was necessary.
V
Without passengers to worry about, Asil had no compunction about putting the sporty car through its paces. The single police car that lit up behind him was easily lost as Asil headed to the battleground he had chosen. The only place he had been to in Seattle that he thought might work.