Page 2 of Between Bloode and Death (Between the Shadows #5)

CHAPTER

TWO

As Khent pulled the Mercedes into the home they shared on Mercer Island, Rolf turned off the radio he’d been fiddling with, alternating between an alt rock station and some late-night broadcast about spooky happenings in and around the city.

Because Death forbid they listen to a decent streaming channel.

Rolf grinned. “I love this show.”

“Of course you do.”

Nothing the human broadcaster mentioned had a basis in reality, all of it some fiction made up from those lacking in intelligence, which made it the perfect program for Rolf.

Gargoyles turning to stone when the sun hit them?

They could turn to stone at will. Werewolves howling at the moon?

Those lazy bastards didn’t howl at anything unless you paid them.

Witches casting spells while naked and dancing around a fire?

Please. Most of them hated being outdoors.

Vampires allergic to garlic? Why just garlic?

Why not tofu or tomatoes or onions or kale? Hell, all of it disgusted Khent.

He parked in the garage, noting the absence of the Land Rover and Audi. The Audi, though, had been totaled a few days ago.

Living with five other vampires of different backgrounds, four vampire mates, a dusk elf, a goddess, and her not-so-humble servant took a toll.

They seemed to go through a lot of windshields, cars, boats, and a plethora of medicinal herbs and potions Hecate’s servant had a bad habit of taking from Khent’s laboratory without asking.

He still had a few bones to pick with Mormo about that and made a note to express his displeasure as he followed Rolf inside.

Their abode in Mercer Island abutted the water and, according to Mormo, was worth several million dollars. From the outside, the two-story, nearly seven thousand square foot property had curb appeal, expansive lawns, and off the back, a wooden pier and covered dock.

The home blended in, mundane enough on the outside. It had white siding with black trim framed in a weird fae-green color, plenty of red and gold flowers to accent the home, and landscaped shrubbery.

Regrettably, their landlord happened to be Hecate, goddess of magic, witches, and the dead. So of course the home couldn’t be completely practical.

As Khent stood inside the living room, he glanced around.

Dark furniture, a sectional sofa, and several chairs made of leather and expensive fabrics decorated the space, the floors a rich, ecru marble.

A large screen television had been mounted above a fireplace while nearby, wooden bookcases held ancient texts and artifacts.

Cream-colored walls with a hint of gold held the occasional work of art, many by magir artists and a few divine-inspired portraits.

He always felt watched when he passed by, as if something studied him and his peers from afar.

In addition to the living room, the main floor had a dining area, kitchen, and two main hallways.

One contained their bedrooms, and the other held spare rooms and a study or two, all with much more space inside than common physics should dictate.

Like the basement that connected to other magical planes in Hecate’s presence.

Without her around, the downstairs felt normal enough with a large gaming center, gymnasium, weight room, and pool.

The indoor pool had fresh water that fed into Lake Washington. Since one of their members was a vrykolakas, a vampire with an affinity for water who’d mated the White Sea Witch, their clan seemed to make a lot more use of the pool now than they had before.

Personally, Khent thought it bad enough that he had to deal with vampires outside his tribe. He was the only reaper of the bunch, though he did consider the revenant fairly intelligent, and he had no qualms with the powerful strigoi leading their clan.

But in addition to different vampires, they had vampire mates living in the home.

Typically, vampires took one special female to breed, and they would give birth to one child.

Two if the female conceived twins. Once a baby was born, the mate left.

The boy, always vampire, stayed with the clan.

Any female child went with the mother. Far away.

Not with Khent’s crazy Night Bloode family. All of them kept their mates close, refusing to part for any reason. Hell, they acted as if in love. He found it unfathomable.

Khent might be able to accept that the affectionate bonds caused the vampires to cling to their mates.

Fine. But one of them, a dusk elf, insisted her crazy brother live with them as well.

Khent had to remain on his guard, because he never knew if Onvyr would smile or go for his throat. Or smile while going for his throat.

At that moment, a large white, gray-striped battle cat the size of an Amur tiger waltzed past Khent with a nod. It disappeared into a stairway that came out of nowhere and vanished soon after.

Like the rest of the oddities in their magical house, strange animals walked through the space like they owned it, no doubt summoned through the crossroads in Hecate’s basement.

Bah. Gods and goddesses were so overrated.

“I’m famished,” Rolf whined from the kitchen and ventured into the refrigerator, pulling out a goblet of blood. “Want something?”

The kitchen made its own kind of magic. The refrigerator contained both hot and cold food of all kinds, from blood to faeberries to raw meat, satisfying everyone in the home.

“I’ll take a lycan pop,” Khent muttered, annoyed. He caught the frozen blood treat and gnawed on it, loathing the fact that he liked being a part of the Night Bloode clan when he really wanted to remain a loner.

Though most vampires kept to themselves, reapers especially prized solitude. Living with the chaos of so many different beings had been challenging, but he’d been acclimating. He figured it might take a few decades to settle in, but thus far he hadn’t killed everyone and piloted their dead bodies.

Despite what he’d told Rolf, Khent could control his fellow vampires, something normal reapers couldn’t do. A secret he’d have to take to his grave, because if the others found out, they’d likely put him there.

“Oh good, you’re here.” Mormo, Hecate’s assistant, appeared out of nowhere, as he typically did.

Though everyone continued to speculate, no one could tell exactly what he was.

Depending on the day, Mormo’s ears could appear either rounded or pointed.

A powerful creature neither young nor old, his red eyes saw what others couldn’t.

Vain enough to keep his long, white hair soft and shiny, Mormo always put Khent in mind of a grand wizard or sorcerer.

It didn’t help that he’d gone through a Lord of the Rings period where he insisted everyone call him “Mormo the White.” Fortunately, he’d dropped that.

“Of course we’re here. Where else would we be?” Rolf asked him.

Mormo looked at Khent. “What did you find?”

Rolf hopped his butt up on the island and swung his legs while he sipped from the goblet. “I’d say a good time, but I have the feeling that’s not the answer you’re looking for.”

Khent answered, “We took out the six rogue upir. They weren’t from the Seattle Bloode clan either. But—”

“Oh, tell him the good part.”

“I was about to.”

Rolf said excitedly, “They were dead, Mormo.”

“Dead?” Mormo frowned. “You didn’t leave any alive? We wanted to question them.”

“No. Dead-dead.”

“What?”

Khent scowled. “Would you shut up, Rolf?”

Rolf mimed zipping his lips.

Khent explained, “The upir we fought were already dead. Not zombies, exactly. But fully functioning vampires who looked and acted alive. We’re dealing with a very talented necromancer.”

“Not this again.” Mormo sighed. “I realize you want to hunt down the female that bested you in your last meeting.”

“She didn’t best me,” Khent snapped.

“Well, the one that got away, then.”

“This isn’t about her. The death magic on the upir shouldn’t have been there. Magician, you know vampires cannot be raised from the dead.”

“Not without a fuck-ton of magic,” Rolf helpfully added. “So if Khent’s girlfriend is zapping our kind, we need to find her.”

“Not. My. Girlfriend,” Khent enunciated, annoyed with everyone lately.

“You’re missing the point, Mormo. The upir did not stink of death.

This is beyond a necromancer. This is dark magic.

Demon magic.” As soon as he said it, he realized the truth.

Yes, that’s what I tasted. “And the last person to use that magic worked with the necromancer. That’s why we need to find her. ”

Khent turned to see Rolf giving him a thumbs up. Great, support from the goofy gallery.

“He’s not wrong.” Rolf finished his blood and tossed the goblet into the sink. Fortunately, it didn’t break. Then he did a handstand on the island, which couldn’t be good for his digestion. “We should gather to figure out this inexplicable mystery.”

Overstated, but that was Rolf. “I concur.” Khent tossed his frozen treat on the counter, no longer hungry. “I know you think I’m fixated on the necromancer. To a degree, I am. The human had the gall to engage in a fight with her betters.”

“He means us fangers,” Rolf explained to Mormo, who didn’t need the explanation. They’d been reminding the magician since they’d met him that though powerful, he was still considered a lesser being by those Of the Bloode—vampires, the greatest species on the planet.

Mormo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I know what he means, Rolf. I agree that someone controlling vampires is not what we need now. Not when we’re so close to finding the rest of the Bloode Stones. Only with them can we join all the vampires under Hecate’s rule and fight the Darkness That comes.”

Rolf groaned. “I don’t know if you realize this, Mormo.

But you and Hecate mention this supposed Darkness daily.

Like, we know you brought us together to fight this evil that’s planning to annihilate the world.

But is destroying the world really the worst idea ever?

Maybe not. Think about it. People are so annoying.

Would thinning them out be such a bad thing? ”

Khent nodded. “He’s got a point.” Seeing Mormo’s alarm boosted his mood, so Khent picked up the blood pop and continued eating.

“Don’t you start,” Mormo growled. “It’s bad enough the rest of the clan is moon-eyed over new mates.

We have small wars breaking out among magir all over the place.

Hecate’s busy crossing from realm to realm putting out literal demon fires.

The other gods are being lazy about it all and placing bets on when humanity will end.

And never mind that if this realm goes down, all the worlds will cease to be,” he emphasized.

“I know your kind thrives on chaos, but keep it in your pants while we hunt down that last fucking stone.”

“Oh, someone’s panties are in a twist.” Rolf blinked in innocence when Mormo turned and flashed a set of pretty fangs at him.

Then the magician grabbed a bottle of booze from out of the air and downed it in one go.

Khent stared, in awe. Wow. They’d been pushing Mormo for nearly two years, but this was the first time he’d seen the magician so aggravated.

Rolf grinned at Khent, and Khent did his best not to smile into Mormo’s glare. The bastard might not be Of the Bloode, but he had massive, unpredictable power. And now he had fangs too.

How…cute.

“Don’t you smile at me,” Mormo warned.

Khent coughed. “Of course not. What do you want us to do?”

“I’ll go talk to Hecate. For now, take a break. I need to check in with Varu too. Things are heating up.” Mormo vanished, and his empty bottle shot straight at Rolf, knocking him off the island so that he crashed onto the floor.

Khent winced.

Nothing kept Rolf down though, and he rolled and bounced to his feet. “Man, that was a nice exit, right, bro?” He winked at Khent.

Khent walked up to him, studied the draugr, then punched him in the face.

Rolf went down again, swearing.

Mood restored, Khent left him for his lab in the basement. Surely, there had to be something dead he could play with while he tried to figure out how to once again track down some evil plaguing Seattle.

Blah blah blah. Rinse and repeat.