Chapter 16 - Ameera
16
AMEERA
I check my phone yet again, then tuck it back into my jacket pocket and stifle a sigh. I’m sitting next to Anson in the backseat of my gray Land Rover Defender with Samuel driving, Harrison in the front passenger seat, and Dre crammed into the third row of seats behind me. I glance over at Anson, who’s staring out the window with a blank expression, not even noticing me checking my phone for the umpteenth time since we got in the vehicle.
I awoke before Anson tonight and called his sister, who, of course, didn’t answer the unfamiliar number. I left a message explaining who I was and begging her to call her brother and give him a chance to prove he’s still the same man he was in his human life. It’s been hours now, and she has yet to respond to me, let alone call Anson, and I’m losing hope that my plan to get them to talk is going to work.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to find out anything definitive,” Dre says.
The detective showed up at our door just after sunset tonight and told us that the bullet had no ballistics match in the system and the street cams nearest the club weren’t functioning last night, which seems like a very convenient coincidence. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was magic involved. After all, Roman Durant used magic to disrupt the street cams when he kidnapped Brianna for the Twins. We have no way of verifying it, but if that’s the case, then it seems even more likely Allen Hale was involved in the hit on me last night.
Dre insisted on coming with us tonight, despite the danger, when he found out about our meeting with Anson’s father. He claims his presence will help humanize Anson in his father’s eyes, instead of one of my vampire guards, and I hope he’s right. Though I fear it’s a pointless endeavor if Allen Hale really is the one who tried to have me killed. Now we’re on our way to meet with the man who may or may not be responsible for my attempted murder, and I can’t help but feel like we’re walking into a trap.
Anson shrugs. “It’s not your fault,” he says to Dre, then lapses into silence again.
His face is still devoid of any emotion, and it worries me since he’s been detached like this since awakening tonight. Is he backtracking to the dark place he was when he tried to greet the sun? The thought sickens me and I pull my phone out to check it again, despite the lack of any notification that anyone called or texted me.
This time Anson notices what I’m doing and frowns, and it’s a relief to see any emotion from him at this point. “Are you expecting a call or something?”
“Just nervous about tonight,” I reply as I put my phone away again. I hate lying to him, but I don’t want to get his hopes up by telling him I contacted his sister, in case it doesn’t pan out.
His expression hardens with resolve. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
I smile at his vehemence. “I know you won’t,” I say, even though I’m quite capable of protecting myself. “And I won’t let anything happen to you, either. Plus, we’ve got extra protection,” I add as I pat the Kevlar vest under my clothes. I made sure Anson had a vest and the others already had their own, and we’re all armed, so we’re as prepared as we can be if things go wrong tonight.
Anson nods, then stares out the window again, but this time he places his hand atop mine where it’s resting on the seat between us and keeps it there. It makes me feel a little better about his detached behavior tonight. Then we drive in silence to our destination, the Unity Botanical Garden. I’ve never visited the place, but its centralized location makes it a logical choice for Allen Hale to pick for this parley.
We pull into the parking lot just before midnight and I can see a greenhouse at the highest point of the hilly property. Its interior is brightly lit, illuminating the thick greenery inside. Darkness shrouds the surrounding buildings and makes the glass structure an unmistakable beacon for anyone nearby. It has to be where we’re meeting with the mage council.
We pull to a stop and exit the SUV without a word, and Samuel and Harrison lead the way with Dre bringing up the rear toward a sidewalk path that leads from the parking lot up toward the greenhouse. The path winds through the trees and immaculate landscaping, the ground-level LED lights that line the sidewalk making it difficult to see much beyond their pools of light into the darkness beyond, even with my vampiric vision. It makes me even more uneasy about this meeting.
We reach the end of the path and stop just outside the main entrance of the greenhouse without being molested by anyone, and it’s lit up as bright as the interior. There’s still no one in sight besides the five of us, but the double doors leading into the structure are wide open and there are murmuring voices coming from inside. I glance over at Anson, and we give each other a worried frown. He doesn’t like this situation any more than I do. But what choice do we have but to follow it through? I itch to draw my pistol, but even though we’re allowed to be armed, brandishing it won’t gain me any favor with Anson’s father.
I motion our small group forward, and we walk through the doorway. The greenhouse seems even more massive on the inside, at least fifty to sixty feet wide, with a glass roof that peaks a good forty feet above our heads. We’re surrounded by healthy, full-size palm trees and a lush multitude of smaller plants and flowers that perfume the thick humid air. Flagstone paths lead further inside, circling around a large water feature that’s bordered by flower beds with a burbling fountain and koi swimming and splashing around in its rectangular pool. If it weren’t for the pressing reason we were here, I’d find this beautiful place enchanting.
Allen Hale is standing on the opposite side of the water feature flanked by one woman and three men in an open area surrounded by a few scattered benches. They all look stern, but Anson’s father looks particularly grim compared to the others. Especially when he sets his eyes on me as we round the water feature, and his face hardens even more as we stop a few yards away from him.
“The rules for a parley require both sides to abide by the rules of hospitality,” Allen Hale says. “I plan on honoring that agreement, and I hope you can manage to do the same, even if you’re incapable of any magic.”
He’s talking about a binding magical agreement that prevents each party from harming the other or detaining them in their territory for any reason. As a vampire, I can’t be bound to any kind of magical agreement because I don’t have any innate magical abilities like a mage or a fae. But I can be beholden to my own sense of honor, even if Allen Hale doesn’t believe that.
“You have my word,” I reply, ignoring his snide comment. “We will abide by the rules of hospitality.”
He lets out a snort of contempt, but refrains from saying anything else rude or insulting. “Now let’s get down to business,” he says. “Why did you call this meeting?”
“To get you to talk to me,” Anson says as he steps closer to me. “To convince you I’m still the same man, and that Ameera isn’t responsible for my murder.”
Allen’s face hardens even more. “I know how vampires work,” he says. “I know a vampire’s sire has complete authority over them for months or even years after they were turned. She can make you believe anything she wants, think anything she wants. You can’t be the man I knew anymore because he’s dead.” He glares at my nose. “She made sure of that.”
“Goddamn it, Dad,” Anson says, his eyes darkening as his temper flares. “Ameera turned me to save me after Vanessa shot me and I bled out in her arms. She’s not like the vampire who hurt Amber. If it wasn’t for her, I’d be gone now. I’m still here. I’m still your son. Don’t throw that away because you’re blinded by what happened in the past.”
Allen’s glare falters a bit at his son’s heartfelt words.
“More than likely just lies fed to you by your sire,” the woman standing off to Allen’s side says. She appears to be close to Allen’s age, with short steel gray hair and a dour expression.
Anson turns his angry dark eyes on her, more than likely to berate her as his emotions get the best of him.
“They’re not lies,” Dre announces as he comes up next to Anson and lays a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “I’ve known Anson as a human and a vampire, and I can vouch for him still being the same honorable man I knew before he was turned.”
“And I’ve worked for Miss Fatali for well over a decade,” Harrison adds as he comes up next to me. “I vouch for her being an honorable vampire and a good friend.”
The woman next to Allen breaks out in sudden laughter, earning a glare from almost everyone, even Anson’s father. “Forgive me,” she says once she’s settled down, not appearing apologetic at all. “But Miss Fatali could easily coerce that sentiment with her glamour.”
“Then check my aura,” Dre says to Allen. “You’ll see for yourself that she hasn’t tampered with it.”
“Check mine as well,” Harrison says with a nod.
Allen frowns and glances between Dre and Harrison, then looks at me and opens his mouth as if to speak. But his eyes dart downward and widen in surprise instead. I follow his line of sight and see the unmistakable red dot of a laser sight in the center of my chest. A fraction of a second later, I hear glass shatter and feel something thunk into my Kevlar vest with a hard, painful impact.
Anson tackles me to the flagstones just as another bullet whizzes by above us and thumps into the trunk of a nearby palm tree. Another red dot appears, this time on Anson’s temple. But before I can react, I hear Allen Hale shout, “Contego!” just before the bullet ricochets off the hastily conjured shield he threw up in front of his son.
“There!” Samuel calls out as he points his pistol toward the shooter. “The roof of the next building.”
Then he, Dre, and Harrison return fire as they converge in front of us, and more glass shatters as their bullets punch through the greenhouse wall. Anson hunkers down over me and I cringe as the cacophony of gunfire all around us assaults my ears.
The shooting stops and Samuel announces, “They’re making a run for it.”
He darts at inhuman speed toward a side door I hadn’t noticed before, and Harrison and Dre stay poised to defend us, their guns still at the ready as my progeny exits the building. I lift my head and glance around, and spot Allen Hale being dragged out of the greenhouse doors by his cohorts, his attention focused on his son with a perplexed frown before he disappears outside. Apparently, he’s just as shocked by his defense of his son as I am.
“Are you okay?” Anson asks and I look up into his worried eyes.
I nod. “The shot hit my vest.”
He sighs in relief, then stands and pulls me up with him. He checks me over with a frown before meeting my eyes, the panic in them finally subsiding.
“We need to go,” Harrison announces, his eyes darting all around. “We’re too exposed here.”
Samuel rushes back into the greenhouse with a deep frown. “They’re long gone,” he says. “I caught a brief glimpse of a figure dressed head to toe in black, but not enough to identify them.”
“Let’s get the hell out of here,” Anson says as he grabs my hand and drags me toward the entrance.
We make our way to the parking lot with our weapons drawn and all of us on the lookout for anymore threats. The few cars that were in the lot when we arrived are gone now and I assume they belonged to Allen Hale and his cohorts from the mage council. We clamber into the SUV and Samuel makes haste, getting us off the property and onto the street just as approaching sirens blare in the distance.
A few blocks later, several UPD squad cars fly past us, no doubt heading toward the Unity Botanical Garden. I guess we should have silenced our weapons like the shooter did. I’m not too worried, though. I’m sure Allen Hale has contingencies in place to keep the police from finding any clues to any of our identities, just like I would. No one in the preternatural community wants to expose our existence to the human population.
“Well, that was pointless,” Dre announces from the seat behind mine. “All we accomplished was almost getting Ameera and Anson killed.”
“Not completely,” Anson replies. “At least now we know it wasn’t my father trying to kill Ameera.”
“You… you thought your dad was responsible?” Dre asks, his voice incredulous.
“It’s not the first time he ordered a hit on a vampire who wronged him,” Anson says with a shrug, his expression turbulent and anything but nonchalant.
I reach over and take his hand in mine and twine our fingers together to comfort him. He’s got to be thinking the same thing I am right now.
“If it wasn’t your father, then who the hell was it?” Dre asks, voicing my own thoughts with a concern that echoes mine. And since none of us know the answer to his question, his only reply is strained silence.