Chapter 93
The night was quiet. They were the only car on the dark highway; speeding steadily towards Oren's new hideout, or war coven, as he called it. Oren sat behind the wheel, his face grim despite his obvious victory, while Jorick sat in the passenger seat, the picture of relaxed elegance. Katelina was tucked into the backseat - better there than next to Oren - with a tatty suitcase. She'd picked it over the duffle bag because it was bigger, and she hoped it held together. If it fell apart that would just be the topper to an otherwise dismal trip.
She pulled her new black stocking hat down over her ears and burrowed her face in the too big coat. Since Jorick had washed it, it smelled like "fresh spring" or something to that effect; a scent that was too perfumy with a catchy name.
They'd been driving for nearly half an hour when Jorick cleared his throat loudly. "I assume there's a plan of some sort, Oren?" The question hung unanswered for a moment; waiting.
"Mmmmm," Oren's golden eyes flicked to the rearview mirror, then back to the road. "First we have to decide what to do with your human - with Katelina," he corrected.
Katelina bristled at his slip. She was tired of being called "Jorick's human" all the time. It implied that she was nothing more than "his cat" or "his goldfish". She wasn't a pet, she was a human being, and she had a name! The vampires might think they'd evolved past humanity and were better than her, but she was tired of that attitude. She wanted to be treated with some respect and consideration, instead of everyone acting like she was a hamster.
"I'll deal with Katelina when the time comes." Jorick glanced over his shoulder and gave her a suggestive smile, then turned back to Oren. "But there is a plan?"
The blonde vampire stared unflinchingly at the road ahead. "Not really," he answered reluctantly.
Jorick took a deep breath and released it slowly. "I see." He laid a hand to his head and asked incredulously, "You don't have a plan? You want me to defeat Kateesha with nothing?"
"I wouldn't say 'nothing'," Oren replied defensively. "But a plan will come. We'll have a war council."
"Wonderful," Jorick muttered. "A council. Always the best way to get nothing accomplished." He held up his hand to signal the end of the conversation. "Never mind, we'll figure it out when we arrive." He leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes, meditating.
Silence fell over the three of them. Time dragged by and finally, she forced them to stop at a gas station. Near the checkout counter, the usual assortment of gossip rags all carried a similar headline "Pop Diva Shelay Found Murdered." Katelina tossed one of them on the counter with her lime-aid slurpy and cheese pretzels. Jorick raised a questioning eyebrow, but only added an armload of plastic wrapped food to the purchases.
When they got back to the car, he tossed the bag into the backseat, and Katelina suddenly realized what it was for: she was looking at her food for the foreseeable future. She stifled a groan with a mouthful of pretzels and sat back to read the magazine.
The article on Shelay was halfway through the magazine, just after an advertisement for cellulite cream. There was very little information in it; it recapped that she was last seen at a trendy night club, and left in the company of a woman she met there, that her family had reported her missing, and so forth. It did say that her body was found in a ditch, wrapped in a beige shower curtain, and mutilated. Police were looking for the woman from the nightclub, but there were no other leads. A few photographs punctuated the article; there was a large image of Shelay at her last concert, a few grainy pictures of her and the woman who still looked very, very much like Kateesha, and then a snapshot of something wrapped in a shower curtain. Underneath, it instructed her to "turn to page 68 for gruesome crime scene photos of Shelay."
Like some kind of golem, Katelina flipped pages hurriedly. In truth, the gruesome photos weren't much. There were two blurry close-ups; one of her blood splattered face, eyes closed, and hair pulled back and the other of her hand, again splattered in blood. A third was an oddly angled shot of the shower curtain with one naked foot sticking out from beneath it, while the fourth showed her lacerated arm, and a sliver of bloody torso. All the photos were in black and white, so what shock value should have been there was robbed by the missing color.
A miniature article underneath the oddly angled shot explained that the pop singer appeared to have been stabbed and sliced with a sharp weapon multiple times, before her torso had been cut open and many of her internal organs removed, including the stomach, lungs and heart.
When Katelina thought about it, a strangled noise escaped her throat. The way Oren had spoken the woman had been alive when Kateesha handed her over. Which meant-
"Yes," Jorick answered from the front seat. "I did tell you that's what would happen."
Oren glanced up curiously, but didn't care enough to inquire.
Something sick twisted inside Katelina as she realized that could be her someday. "Don't tell anyone about us or you'll be in danger from the others." Talk about an understatement.
***
In total it was a six and a half hour trip, including the unplanned stop. It ended in the snowy driveway of a large Victorian style house. Although it was in better repair, outwardly, than Jorick's little house by the sea, it wasn't much to look at. The gingerbread edging was loose or missing in about a million places and a hanging gutter banged against the siding. The clanging echoed endlessly beneath the ceiling of the onyx sky, and the lonely sound made Katelina shiver. The landscape that spread out before them was an endless expanse of smooth white that ended at the feet of a miniature forest. Despite their distance, the thick, concealing trees seemed somehow menacing.
"We're here," Jorick announced uselessly as he opened the car door.
Katelina climbed reluctantly into the cold and tugged the suitcase out of the car. Jorick moved beside her and offered her a tight attempt at a smile. He took her arm and led her to the house, the snow crunching beneath their feet. In their matching black coats, they looked like a pair of mismatched twins; one tall and elegant, the other short and aggravated.
"So where are we?"
Jorick's voice was soft, "We're at Oren's new den, of course."
Given the very un-electric light that flickered in the windows, the answer made her heart sink. As they approached the sweeping front porch, Jorick pulled her to a stop and gazed at her urgently. His dark eyes swallowed her and his silky voice echoed in her head, "Be careful and trust no one. Oren will not betray me, but I can't say the same for anyone else. I will protect you, but you must do as I say." He waited until she nodded and then he led her up the steps to wait for their companion.
Oren crunched his way across the yard, hands in his pockets. He climbed the stairs and stopped beside them. "Come, they should be expecting us."
Jorick stared at the unopened door, distrust in his eyes. "They have an odd way of showing it."
"There is a system." Oren gazed at Jorick with affront. "Would you suspect me now?"
"I suspect everyone."
Oren chose not to comment. Instead, he knocked four times on the door, then waited patiently. Three knocks sounded back and he answered again with another set of four.
Katelina wondered why they needed secret knocks if they could smell one another. Jorick's voice cut through her consciousness, answering her unasked question. "Not everyone can. And even if they do, what if it's a scent they don't recognize? Do you know who, or what, every smell in the world belongs to?"
"But wouldn't they recognize Oren?"
"Maybe," Jorick allowed silently. "But Oren is fond of these things. Security measures and such. He's better at those than real strategy."
Before she could answer, the door opened and a familiar red haired vampiress appeared. Her eyes filled with delight when she saw Jorick. "So he came!" Then she noticed Katelina and added, "And he brought his pet."
"Yes, Torina," Jorick responded with little enthusiasm. He caught Katelina's hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I'm here. Now move out of the way."
"Of course," Torina purred. "Wouldn't want the little human to get cold out there." She snickered and drew away from the door to disappear into the darkened house.
Jorick followed first, then Katelina, and finally Oren, as though they were trying to keep her between them. She wondered why, but, as her eyes adjusted to the light, she understood. In the middle of the room were ten vampires, clustered together like a superhero movie poster. Torina had moved to drape herself over the arm of a muscular, dark skinned vampire, while a pair of dark haired males were busy looking at her cleavage. A pale woman with ebony hair and a regal gaze met Jorick's eyes impassively, but a blonde woman and a thin, brunette male weren't so emotionless. Their hostility was only challenged by a dark haired male with eyes that made Katelina think of someone she'd met before. A bald vampire with a tribal tattoo down one side of his face looked only slightly less threatening than they did, and next to him stood what Katelina had hoped would be a friendly face, but Loren refused to look at them.
The woman with the blonde ponytail stepped forward, her hands on her hips. The "tough" look on her pointed features made Katelina think of an action movie again. "So, you came, Jorick?" she asked sarcastically, appraising him with her eyes. "I'd heard you were busy nesting in your lair."
Jorick gazed at her with a bored expression. "Though it's none of your concern, Anya, this wasn't my fight."
"What makes it your fight now?" she demanded.
He was unruffled by her hostilities. "That's not your concern, either. I'm here."
She snorted and laid a hand on the thin brunette male. "Oh yes! Come, brother, let us fall on our faces and thank the Gods Jorick came to lead us to victory!"
Katelina could feel Jorick's annoyance, but he kept his tone disinterested. "Thank you, Anya, but I ask for no prayers of gratitude. And I have no desire to lead this coven." He glanced at Oren, who stood just inside the door. "Oren leads you," Jorick continued, as his eyes moved from face to face. "But you will follow my one command." He paused and squeezed Katelina's hand tightly. "This is Katelina. She is mine. None of you will touch her. If you do, you'll die."
Silence greeted this pronouncement and then the bald vampire, with the tribal tattoo, smiled wickedly. "So Loren was right? You're whipped by a little human girl."
Jorick narrowed his eyes slightly, but otherwise hid his annoyance well. "If you believe that, then you'll find yourself gravely mistaken."
A couple of the other vampires muttered things that Katelina couldn't catch, though Jorick's irritation prickled her mind, so she assumed he could. The tension in the room slowly grew until she felt it would suffocate them. She waited for Loren, or even Torina, to comment and diffuse the situation, but neither did. Finally, Oren came to stand behind Jorick and Katelina. He cleared his throat noisily. "Jorick has claimed her." He grasped the collar of Katelina's coat roughly and, before she could jerk away, he pulled it back to display her new mark. "If you harm her, you must also deal with me."
Murmurs rose again like an ocean tide, and then slowly ebbed into silence.
"It's late," Oren said, once quiet had returned. "The sun will rise soon." He turned from them and started towards a large doorway that led into a dark room. "Come, Jorick." He motioned with his hand. "I would speak with you."
