Wickedly They Dance Page 7
"Indeed. Come here."
She walked closer, and Alexius showed her the incision he'd been inspecting. His vampire eyes could catch the nanoscopic flow of golden energy when he concentrated, but he handed her his alchetoscope so she could detect it. The instrument was of his own making—a tool with various attachments, like a Swiss knife.
Greer had begged him to make her one. He’d refused, mostly because this one had taken him over a hundred years, and an unseemly amount of gold and diamonds.
"What the hell?" she mused. "Is he…is it his soul, still in there?"
"Oh no. Poor old Easton is definitely dead. But whoever's spelled him still has hold of him."
"So, is he dangerous?"
A pertinent question. "Well, that would depend on his orders. Probably."
Greer then asked, "Could it be the person you talked about? Hades' daughter?"
Alexius took a moment to consider the question. "I doubt it. Knox called her an ally of his. He doesn't trust easily. I doubt he'd be in touch with anyone twisted enough to create fucking zombies."
It was still worth investigating, however. Alexius decided he was overdue for a chat with The Wolf. If he could get in touch with him.
Since the paranormal investigation agency was blown up in America a few years back, Knox had become hard to reach, and when he was seen, he was always in a rush, only popping by for a specific task.
The Wolf had little interest in vampire politics. He and Alexius had been on friendly terms for centuries—long enough to catch up and get a drink every other decade. But Alexius had never contacted him to ask for intel. He wasn't sure he liked the idea of asking for a favor from his acquaintance.
He decided that zombies were worth mixing pleasure with business.
"Still, I believe I'll call him. Now, in fact."
Greer's eyes widened in eagerness. Alexius almost laughed. "Well, I believe it's the end of your shift."
"I don't mind staying," Greer shot back.
Alexius shook his head. "I don't think so. You should go, have fun. Enjoy yourself with some friends."
Greer was working too hard.
"Please? I'd love to hear what The Wolf has to say."
Alexius sighed. The fact that she went above and beyond to help him meant that from time to time, she ought to get her way.
"Fine. Don't ask a million questions."
He closed the corpse's black body bag zipper and slid the table in the mortuary refrigerator.
Greer cleaned up while he washed his hands and headed to his office—the second-to-last room in the Night Tower.
Upstairs, there was a large study where Levi usually worked; the vampires studying in the Institute had a habit of gathering there in their down time. Alexius preferred to remain in his space when he could.
He found his phone and poured two glasses of brandy. When Greer appeared five minutes later, he handed one to her and finally dialed Knox's number, putting him on speaker.
He wasn't too surprised when it rang six times before going to voicemail.
"Fenrir," Knox introduced himself formally, using his first name. Then there was a beep inviting him to leave a message.
Alexius could have laughed at Greer's visible disappointment. Unconcerned, he said, "Hey, I'm calling with a question about zombies. No huge rush. I happen to have one in the fridge so could you get back to me?"
A beep sounded on the other end of the phone.
"Zombies?" Knox's familiar voice replied. Greer gasped. "Man, those things are nasty. I don't think I've seen one since the Middle Ages."
"Right? I thought it was mostly folklore, then suddenly we have a walking, mumbling corpse on our hands. It arrived last night. Any clue who could bring one to life here?"
"A proper Enlightened, but we have few, and none of them would. There are a few lines of witches who could potentially do it, if the entire coven worked on it. The Whites might be able to, but they're out. I know them, they don't touch the dead arts. The Vespians, if they were still alive."
Alexius's gaze cut through to the last of the Vespians. Greer's existence wasn't widely known. They were keeping it secret for many reasons, the main one being her own wishes.
"Anyone else you can think of? Your Underworld spawn friend, perhaps?"
"Demetria?" The wolf snorted on the other end of the line. "I think not. That's not her kind of entertainment. In any case, she isn't on Earth right now. She and her whole family are in the Abyss, as far as I know.”
"What about half bloods?" Greer asked. "There's a few descendants of gods, right?"
Knox was silent.
"Ah, yes. Meet my apprentice. She's too curious for her own sake."
"And pertinent," The Wolf added. "I don’t have a comprehensive list of scions here. They’re private. But…yes, some could potentially touch necromancy. I'll have to make inquiries. I'll get back to you."
As Knox didn't immediately hang up, Alexius guessed he had something to say.
"What's going on with you? Anything I can help with?"
Alexius had asked something of Knox; he certainly would appreciate returning the favor to resume status quo.
"Actually, there is. I don't think I'll have time to visit Oldcrest for a while. Could you do something for me, old friend?"
"Possibly." It entirely depended on the what, and Knox knew it.
"There's a kid in the woods, with the pack. Well, I guess she's not much of a kid now. She'd be twenty-five or so, I can't rightly recall. She wasn't raised among the Elder Pack, so I'm not sure how she'll fit in. I have…particular ties to her. I'd be glad to know if someone was watching her back."
Immediately, Alexius saw long blonde hair, dyed to lighter shades by sun exposure, a tanned lean frame, and deep brown eyes. Natural blondes with brown eyes were contradictions, somewhat unexpected. He would have had a hard time forgetting the wolf from the previous night if he'd tried.
He hadn't tried. There was no shame in thinking of a pretty thing now and then.
"Sure. What's her name?"
"Avani."
Avani. It suited her.
He didn't know why he was so very certain that Knox was talking about the blonde. He just knew it. She’d sounded, looked, felt different from the rest of the pack. Less unstable, yet wilder all at once. He couldn’t quite put his finger on the difference, but he’d felt it nonetheless.
"I'll keep an eye on her for you."
"Great. I suppose I have a necromancer to track down for you, now."
"If you would."
"I shall. Farewell for now, Lex, Apprentice."
Finally he hung up.
Pack Interest
It was common knowledge that a shifter and their animal were different entities living in symbiosis, with minds of their own. Avani had heard packmates talk about their wolves, their conversation with the beast. It was in these moments that she realized how very different she was from the rest of them. The wolf didn't communicate with her, alerting her of its needs and desires. She was the wolf. Turning didn't awaken another creature.
She liked her human shell well enough. Opposable thumbs were great, she loved cooked bacon, and one of her favorite things was feeling the warm jets of a shower on her skin. But nothing compared to running as a wolf. Running so very fast, feeling the air around her protest her speed. She was free. Free enough to do anything she pleased without judgment. Piss on a tree, spook a bunny, roll on the grass for no reason at all.
Shifting on a blood moon was a particular pleasure. Avani could feel the magic in the air, old spells woven in the very fabric of their world. Too many creatures—witches, fae, warlocks, gods—had used the phases of the moons over the centuries. Now the darker world awoke on rare celestial events, blood moons most of all.
Avani howled loud and clear, her voice piercing the silent night. Soon the rest of the pack joined in, unable to resist.
Humans were complicated. Wolves were all about instincts and wants.
They ran around the lake as a pack, every dominant adult in formation around the edges of the pack while the younger wolves they'd brought with them were in the center, with the submissive and older pack members—where they could be protected.
Avani felt a shift in the air around them when they crossed the borders of Oldcrest, though there was nothing to see; they were on a highland plain one second, and then, running on the very same stretch of grass. But the energy around them had changed. The protection at their borders wasn't hiding them from view anymore. They were in the regular human world.
The world she had left so many moons ago, returning to it on very rare occasions, guarded and watched carefully.
The feeling that had troubled her when Draiden had mentioned the hunt the first time came back to her, only worse. Much worse. Despite the euphoria running through her veins at running with the pack, everything in her told her this was wrong. Unsafe.
For the first time since she'd joined the Elder Pack, there were no guards around them. Just the pack enforcers, beta, and Draiden, who headed the hunt. She couldn’t feel the solemn and obtrusive presence of Knox’s guards anywhere. Who would stop them if they went out of line? And they might. They were pureblood wolves—wild, savage things. She seriously doubted Knox would have okayed their hunting outside of Oldcrest without any guard.
She was almost certain that they were going rogue. There was no other explanation. The Wolf wouldn't have condoned their hunts.
What was Draiden thinking? Avani was appalled. But what could she do about it?
She slowed down, falling back toward the rear for their procession. She saw Zayn's large black wolf turn to her and bark, half demanding, half confused.
As part of their pack, she should have been able to hear the thoughts of the rest of the wolves when they were in animal form, but she never had. She could understand Draiden's commands, and that was about it. It didn't take a genius to know why Zayn was upset though. She'd run to his left, almost next to him. Mostly because she couldn't surpass the beta without challenging his position, and going slower than him would have been too tedious for words. She'd never slowed down before.