Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
The long drive to Texas went smoothly, thanks to less traffic on the roads at night and conveniently placed safe havens. Emma awakened from a drowse to the familiar lights of San Antonio’s downtown district. A glance at the dashboard clock showed it was a quarter past midnight.
“Where’s the meeting?”
“The Riverwalk.”
Adrian lacked familiarity with the area to know where to drive or park, so Emma gave directions and suggested a public lot, guiding him to each turn. After parking the car, they strode past the Alamo and the Guinness World Records Museum before heading down some steps to the riverside path.
The silent atmosphere of the vacant walkways always struck Emma as melancholic. From pictures and television, she knew the landmark bustled with energy during the day, but in the late hours, only a few of the bars remained open.
“So, who are we looking for?” she asked.
“Overseer Heloise McKnight and her champion, Antonin Dragomir. He’s built like a tank, so you’ll probably see him first.”
“Bigger than you?”
“Bigger than me.”
They kept a relaxed pace, strolling past manicured flower beds and darkened restaurant patios. Large terra cotta pots overflowing with colorful pansies lined the river’s edge.
“Is that him?”
A brick shithouse in a fashionable overcoat stood beside a lithe black woman wearing a chic pantsuit.
She lounged in a chair at a covered table, and the glow of her cell phone screen lit her features.
As Adrian said, Emma saw Antonin first, though with their dark skin and clothing, she could have overlooked either.
“Ah, Heloise, enough of Crazy Birds. You have visitors,” Antonin warned in a heavy Russian accent when they approached.
“Angry, Antonin. They’re angry birds.”
“They attack pigs. That is crazy.”
Stifling her laughter, Emma put on a polite smile.
Adrian stepped forward first and greeted Heloise with an affectionate embrace instead of a handshake, while her enormous wall of moving muscles lurked over her shoulder.
He had classic features attributed to bodybuilding, a thick neck, barrel chest, and shoulders wider than a semi-truck.
But he was handsome, like a work of Renaissance art carved out of obsidian instead of marble.
“Pleasure to see you, Adrian. My, it’s been years, hasn’t it?” Heloise asked.
“A few years too many. Thank you for taking the time.” After Adrian released the vampiress, he gestured to Emma in introduction. “Heloise, this is Emma, the adept assigned to handle the case of the lost artifact.”
“A big job for one so young. Still, Adrian tells me you are handling the assignment well.”
He had? Emma flicked her gaze away from Heloise’s catlike eyes to study Adrian. He avoided looking at her, focusing on his friend instead.
“She is,” he confirmed. “But it wouldn’t hurt to have a helping hand. What can you tell us?”
“About what I’ve already said. I spoke to the shifters and witches who were present at the time of Rosenhaven’s fall, and none of them set fire to the plantation. It had to be Margot.”
Adrian made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. “Burning her own people.”
“Covering her tracks,” Emma said.
Heloise nodded. “Correct. Unfortunately, that isn’t the worst thing Margot has done. We found Master Tremaine’s desiccated remains days later in the wilderness. She even turned on her closest co-conspirator.”
Emma swallowed down the bile rising in her throat. “That’s awful. As much as I want to say he got what was coming to him, no one deserves to be cannibalized.”
A grim smile touched the Overseer’s red-glossed lips.
“I came to search for overlooked clues, but I’ve turned up nothing more than what we already knew.
The both of you are welcome to look. Since you’re an honorary Overseer, the council won’t take offense to me lending you these…
. In fact, Julius practically insisted.” She offered a heavy iron ring of keys.
Emma stared down at the keys to Rosenhaven Plantation’s gate and every door on the premises. “It couldn’t hurt.” Though the idea of returning to the ruins of her old home held little appeal. Emma wasn’t sure if she was ready to face those old ghosts.
“Anything you can do to help us with the Eye, Heloise?” Adrian asked.
The Overseer’s lips pressed into a thin line. Behind her, Antonin made a disgruntled noise in his throat, like the rumbling of grinding gears. “I’m afraid we won’t be able to offer you much help in locating the stone. We have troubles of our own.”
Adrian crossed his arms. A muscle in his cheek jumped when he tightened his jaw. “That isn’t what you implied over the phone. What’s happening?”
“What isn’t happening, Adrian? The elders got a wild hare up their asses and made finding Margot our priority. I can’t do that and search for Sariel. There are a thousand little holes for that bitch to hide in from Texas to either coast, and too few of us to get a bead on her.”
“She could be in Canada by now,” Adrian said.
“Or some other place, far away from where any of us may find her. Overseers aren’t as plentiful as they once were,” Heloise said.
She shrugged. “Not only are we investigating crimes, but we are the front lines against the hunters. Over the past century, I have watched many of my friends step down or die at their hands.”
Emma shuddered. “I don’t know too much about her, since I left a couple months after her arrival, but I’ll bet you anything, wherever she is, it’s luxurious. That woman always dripped wealth, from her clothes to her food. I can’t imagine her hiding out anywhere cheap.”
Heloise listened. While her companion appeared to have a facial expression chiseled from stone, she smiled.
“That helps narrow it down somewhat. It’s more difficult to hide when you have expensive tastes, but unless there’s a smoking gun telling us which direction to run, I don’t expect any of us to find her. ”
“What if… someone gave you a clue?” Emma asked.
Antonin stirred at last, breaking the illusion of someone putting a heavy coat on a black marble statue. He gazed at her in silence and his impassive brown eyes lightened to amber with interest. “What do you know?” he demanded. “If you know of Margot’s whereabouts, you must tell us at once.”
“Nothing yet,” Emma said quickly. “It’s…”
“You’re a clairvoyant,” Heloise said. “Calm down, Antonin.”
Emma swallowed nervously. “Yes.”
“More reason for you to tour the plantation with that keyring. Give me a call if you pick up anything. My investigation could use the help.”
Heloise rose from her seat, indicating an end to the meeting.
“Thank you for seeing us on such short notice.” Adrian dipped his head in a respectful nod toward the two vampires.
Heloise smiled. “I’d do anything for you, Adrian. Except, ah, piss off the council. I really am sorry I can’t stay to help.”
Adrian’s friend flounced away, shadowed by her strong and silent companion. He waited until they were out of earshot before he said, “You don’t have to go there. Rosenhaven wasn’t part of your orders.”
“I know, but I want to. Not for them, but for me. Atropos will still be there tomorrow night, and this is on the way.”
Emma stared at the structure that had once been her home. Pale moonlight bathed the old plantation house in a silver glow that only added to the melancholy atmosphere.
Half the roof was gone, and what remained bore blackened marks from the fire that had torn through the haven. Glass littered the ground outside, every window broken. The once beautiful home was an empty shell now, reduced to a specter of its former glory.
“You sure about this?” Adrian asked.
“Yeah. I need to see it all.”
The front door hung askew on warped and broken hinges. Someone had tagged it with red and black spray paint. More graffiti decorated the walls inside.
“No one ever used to come here,” she said in a soft voice. “No salesmen, no trick-or-treaters. Now look at it. Looks like the local gangs came in and had an art contest.”
“The fire destroyed whatever deterring wards were in place.”
“It makes me sad.”
She moved through the burned-out foyer and picked her way through the debris to the stairs.
“Take care,” Adrian cautioned her. “A few of the support beams aren’t secure.”
Somehow, she knew where to step. Light on his feet behind her, Adrian followed, but each room they passed mirrored the last: blackened walls, ruined furniture, and a sense of emptiness and despair—like the final moments of every vampire within had been branded into the soul of the dilapidated estate, their memories of Margot’s betrayal etched into the stone foundation, the ashen beams, and the shattered glass. Maybe they had.
“This was my room.” She lingered in the doorway. The small space looked as if it had suffered more damage than most of the others, and a jagged crack in the warped floor provided a view down into the floor below them.
She’d loved every inch of her home and had been content to remain until the old master hung up his hat and left.
“Margot ruined everything.”
“Which is why she needs to be stopped. Before she does this”—Adrian swept his hand out—“to another coven. To any of our people. She took one Ancient’s life, and I wager she won’t stop there.”
Cannibalism among vampires was the fastest, cleanest high a vampire could achieve. But no one until Margot had ever murdered and slurped up one of their Ancients. The possibility of her doing it again made Emma shiver.
“I want to find her. If I ever do anything with this gift, I want it to help Heloise bring her to justice,” Emma muttered.
“Then you’ll have to focus. We need a place closely tied to Margot. Her room perhaps?”
“Her room was on the floor above us, and it’s gone. I could see from the outside when we approached that the third floor of the plantation is gutted completely.”
“Then we need another place. Think, Emma. Think.”
“Downstairs, I guess. The vault chamber where Lamashtu slept.”
“Lead the way.”