Chapter 105
Katelina finished her shower and wrapped herself in a fluffy, dry towel, then headed for the bed. She got as far as turning down the blankets when Jorick's voice whispered through her mind like silk, "I'm back and I have company."
She leapt at the sudden intrusion, and stared around wildly as if the company would be standing in the room with her. "What? Who? I have to get dressed first."
"All right," he replied silently. "We're standing outside, waiting."
She looked longingly at the bed, where she'd planned to burrow under the blankets, then collected her smelly clothes from the floor and headed back to the bathroom. When she was dressed, she headed for the door, and opened it, a scowl on her face, and the stench of hay heavy in her nose. Without a word, Jorick entered, carrying a fast food bag and the tatty suitcase they'd abandoned at Oren's. She started to ask how he'd gotten it, but then she saw their visitor; it was Micah, the vampire with the tattooed face.
Jorick set the suitcase on the floor and met her eyes, his face all caution. "Hello, Katelina. I've brought company." He handed her the bag, then inclined his head to the visitor. "This is Micah, I believe you've met."
Katelina scowled, and Micah gave her a hard look. "We haven't been introduced and that's fine with me. I don't like to know dinner on a first name basis."
Jorick bristled. "She's no one's dinner, and you'll do well to remember it."
"Yeah, whatever. We've discussed this already. I'm not here because I agree with your policies or any of that shit. I'm here because if someone doesn't do something, we'll all end up dead."
"So you've said," Jorick murmured and closed the door that Micah had left standing open. "You still haven't bothered to elaborate."
Micah pulled up a shabby chair from the table near the window, and dropped into it. Comfortable, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lit one, then went on as though Jorick hadn't spoken. "I tried to tell Oren, but you know how he is, he won't listen to shit, especially if you don't have 'old blood'." He rolled his eyes sarcastically.
Katelina heard his words, but her attention was riveted to the cigarettes. As if he recognized the longing in her eyes, Micah tossed the pack and the lighter at her. "Knock yourself out." She scrambled to dump a cigarette out as he went on, "It was Thomas who fucking told Kateesha, but no one will listen."
She lit her cigarette and took a deep, satisfying drag that left her hoarse when she asked, "Who's Thomas?"
"Anya's younger brother," Jorick explained. "He was there, but you weren't introduced to him."
Micah snorted. "The scrawny little shit with brown hair. All you gotta do is look at him and you know he's a pussy." Katelina couldn't quite place him, but she tossed the pack back to its owner and the conversation went on without her. "He's only in the coven to report back movements, but no one wants to hear it. You'd think because he's Anya's brother it makes him exempt from everything. Idiots."
"I imagine your news wasn't greeted enthusiastically," Jorick agreed
"No shit." Micah rolled his eyes. "Anya had a fucking bitch fit and it went downhill from there."
"I don't suppose you mind if I ask how you know it was Thomas?"
"What? You think I'm up to something? The fact that I'd defend you should say something. I don't like you, I don't like your human, and I bet neither of you like me, either." He took an extra long drag before he smashed his cigarette out in the tiny glass ashtray. "I know it was him, because the dimwit fucking told me. He was gloating about how they blamed it on you and how fuckin' funny he thought it was. Guess he figured since we hated each other, I'd clap him on the back and say way to go, or some shit. But it's my fucking life he put on the line too, and I don't think that's very fucking funny." His eyes hardened. "I ain't dyin' for no one, least of all Thomas!"
Jorick was silent, brooding on what he'd heard, and Katelina laid her cigarette aside to eat. The fast food bag rustled loudly in the tight silence and drew the attention of both vampires.
Micah's voice dripped with disgust, "If she's eating I'm out of here, I can't deal with their fucking chewing - makes me sick." His nose wrinkled and he looked away from her.
"It makes you jealous," Jorick said bluntly. "You're too new to find it so revolting." He switched back to the topic at hand. "I don't suppose Thomas told you any of their plans?"
"No," Micah snapped. "I grabbed him by his throat and threatened to rip his windpipe out."
Jorick shook his head in exasperation. "Well, you destroyed whatever advantage might have been gained, then. So, what do you want me to do about it?"
The bald vampire gaped. "What the fuck? What's that supposed to mean? Why don't you try sucking up your fucking temper tantrum and go kick the shit out of that jack ass, knock some sense into Oren, and tell them all to get off their asses and quit whining like babies?" He banged an emphatic fist into the tabletop.
"And what if I don't care?" Jorick asked mildly. "I intend to deal with Kateesha myself."
Micah made a sound of disgust in his throat and stood. "I thought you gave a fuck about Oren. Maybe I was wrong?"
Jorick relented, but his voice stayed emotionless. "Tell Oren to meet me tomorrow night. If he comes we'll see what I can do. If he chooses not to-" he left the sentence unfinished and shrugged elegantly.
"That's it then?" Micah asked in disbelief. "After all the shit I've heard about you, that's all you've got?"
Without blinking, Jorick replied, "What did you expect? I'd rush out and rearrange everything to right?"
"Something like that," Micah admitted, obviously at a loss, then his face clouded. "Thanks for fucking wasting my time!"
"It's Oren's choice whether your time was wasted or not. Give him my message. It's in his hands now."
Micah growled low and stormed to the door, but paused with his hand on the doorknob. "I don't know why the fuck Oren went to get you. I can't even figure out how you got mixed up in the whole thing."
Jorick gazed at him coldly. "If you must know, I got involved by accident."
"Why am I not surprised?" Micah muttered and then he left and slammed the door behind him.
Silence fell, and Katelina chewed her cheeseburger, waiting for Jorick to say something. His anger prickled her and she wanted desperately to brush it away, but didn't know how. Finally, he spoke. "Well, wasn't that interesting? I assume you've warmed up?"
"Sort of," she answered slowly, unsure about the topic change.
"Good. I'll be back." He pushed himself up from the dresser to start towards the door, "Lock it and-"
She interrupted him, "Yeah, yeah. I know the drill."
He came to a stop before her and cupped her face in his hands. His eyes shone mischievously, and he couldn't hide the smirk. "I guess it just proves you can train a human."
"Very funny."
He kissed her softly and then headed back to the door, deftly avoiding her as she tried to smack his arm. "I'll be back," he called and left.
She finished her meal in silence and then changed her clothes. She decided that the suitcase was worth having to deal with Micah. That and the cigarette - the cigarette!
She dashed back to the night stand, but the cigarette had burned itself out in the ashtray. She sucked uselessly at the cold filter, and then flopped back on the bed in surrender. Here she was, alone in another motel room.
***
Katelina flipped the cable channels randomly, only stopping on the local news as a last resort. The news anchor was a cheerful looking male with graying hair and a too-tight tie. He tugged at the offensive neckwear as he continued his story.
"-Baker's Funeral home reported the theft of eleven caskets from its downtown showroom. A security camera recorded the image of a masked man before it was disabled-"
A fuzzy picture showed someone who was built very much like Micah wielding a crow bar. He swung the weapon towards the camera, and the picture disappeared.
"-Authorities are unsure at this time if the theft is intended as a prank, or if it is related to the theft of fifteen caskets from the Bryson County Funeral Home in Palmina earlier this month. The eleven caskets have been estimate to be worth over $30,000."
Katelina whistled low. At that price no self-respecting vampire could afford to buy their own casket! No wonder they were stealing them. If Oren and his cohorts had that kind of money then surely their war coven would have been somewhere with heat and running water?
The funny thing was, she'd never bothered to wonder where the caskets came from, even though there'd been a basement full. And just how did they steal fifteen caskets at one time and transport them back? That would take a lot of trucks, wouldn't it?
It was an hour later when Jorick returned, and he was barely through the door before she was on her feet. "Hey! I have a question for you."
He dropped onto the edge of the bed and kicked off his snowy boots. "If you must know, I followed Micah. I wanted to make sure it wasn't a trick."
His immediate answer threw her off guard. "What? No. I want to know how they haul the coffins."
Jorick stared at her incredulously. "How who hauls the coffins?" Understanding slowly filtered over his features. "Oren? For the love of- I don't know. I imagine they use Des's truck." He shook his head and turned his attention to his socks.
"It's a perfectly legitimate question. I mean, they did steal fifteen at a shot."
"Did they?" he asked with no interest as he peeled off his dirty shirt and tossed it away. "I'd imagine they carry them out, stash them somewhere and then haul them a few at a time." He stood and started for his jeans, then paused to look at her. "Why?"
"Oh, I don't know." She shrugged, as if that was an answer. "I was just curious."
He tugged off the jeans as well and left them on a heap in the floor. "Yes, well, you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat."
He started to turn for the bathroom and a shower, but Katelina called to him, "Who says? It's always 'you know what they say'. Well, who exactly are they?"
"Someone very wise."
"Really, well 'they' also say that inquiring minds want to know."
She felt his amusement and heard the smirk in his words, "Too much knowledge can be a bad thing."
"But knowledge is power," she quipped back.
Jorick's smirk grew into a full blown grin, and he looked back over his shoulder and said, "Yes, but they say power corrupts, and I wouldn't want to be responsible for corrupting you, so-." He trailed off into laughter and, before she could work up a good counter argument, disappeared into the bathroom
