Лорел Гамильтон - Circus of the Damned

"Inger said you had a plan for taking out the Master of the City. What is it?" I spoke staring at his desk. My skin crawled with the desire to look up. To meet his eyes, to let the warmth and comfort wash over me. Make all the decisions easy.

I shook my head. "Stay out of my mind or this interview is over."

He laughed again, warm and real. It raised goose bumps on my arms. "You really are good. I haven't met a human in centuries that rivaled you. A necromancer; do you realize how rare that talent is?"

Really I didn't, but I said, "Yes."

"Lies, Ms. Blake, to me, please don't bother."

"We're not here to talk about me. Either state your plan or I'm leaving."

"I am the plan, Ms. Blake. You can feel my powers, the ebb and flow of more centuries than your little master has ever dreamed of. I am older than time itself."

That I didn't believe, but I let it go. He was old enough; I wasn't going to argue with him, not if I could help it.

"Give me your master and I will free you of his marks."

I glanced up, then quickly down. He was still smiling at me, but the smile didn't look real anymore. It was an act like everything else. It was just a very good act.

"If you can taste my master in the marks, can't you just find him yourself?"

"I can taste his power, judge how worthy a foe he would be, but not his name and not where he lies; that is hidden." His voice was very serious now, not trying to trick me. Or at least I didn't think it was; maybe that was a trick, too.

"What do you want from me?"

"His name and his daytime resting place."

"I don't know the daytime resting place." I was glad it was the truth, because he would smell a lie.

"Then his name, give me his name."

"Why should I?"

"Because I wish to be Master of the City, Ms. Blake."

"Why?"

"So many questions. Is it not enough that I would free you from his power?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Why should you care about what happens to the other vampires?"

"I don't, but before I hand you the power to control every vampire in the immediate area, I'd like to know what you intend to do with all that power."

He laughed again. This time it was just a laugh. He was trying.

"You are the most stubborn human I have met in a very long time. I like stubborn people; they get things done."

"Answer my question."

"I think it is wrong to have vampires as legal citizens. I wish to put things back as they were."

"Why should you want vampires to be hunted again?"

"They are too powerful to be allowed to spread unchecked. They will take over the human race much quicker through legislation and voting rights than they ever could through violence."

I remembered the Church of Eternal Life, the fastest-growing denomination in the country. "Say you're right; how would you stop it?"

"By forbidding the vampires to vote, or take part in any legislation."

"There are other master vampires in town."

"You mean Malcolm, the head of the Church of Eternal Life."

"Yes."

"I have observed him. He will not be able to continue his one-man crusade to make vampires legitimate. I shall forbid it and dismantle his church. Surely you see the church as the larger danger, as I do."

I did, but I hated agreeing with an ancient master vampire. It seemed wrong somehow.

"St. Louis is a hotbed of political activity and entrepreneurial vampires. They must be stopped. We are predators, Ms. Blake; nothing we do can change that. We must go back to being hunted or the human race is doomed. Surely you see that."

I did see that. I believed that. "Why would you care if the human race is doomed? You're not part of it anymore."

"As the oldest living vampire, it is my duty to keep us in check, Ms. Blake. These new rights are getting out of hand and must be stopped. We are too powerful to be allowed such freedom. Humans have their right to be human. In the olden days only the strongest, smartest, or luckiest vampires survived. The human vampire hunters weeded out the stupid, the careless, the violent. Without that check-and-balance system, I fear what will happen in a few decades."

I agreed, wholeheartedly; it was sorta scary. I agreed with the oldest living thing I'd ever met. He was right. Could I give him Jean-Claude? Should I give him Jean-Claude?

"I agree with you, Mr. Oliver, but I can't just give him up, just like that. I don't know why really, but I can't."

"Loyalty; I admire that. Think upon it, Ms. Blake, but do not take too long. I need to put my plan into action as soon as possible."

I nodded. "I understand. I. . I'll give you an answer within a couple of days. How do I reach you?"

"Inger will give you a card with a number on it. You may safely speak to him as to me."

I turned and looked at Inger, still standing at attention beside the door. "You're his human servant, aren't you?"

"I have that honor."

I shook my head. "I need to leave now."

"Do not feel badly that you could not recognize Inger as my human servant. It is not a mark which shows; otherwise how could they be our human ears and eyes and hands, if everyone knew they were ours?"

He had a point. He had a lot of points. I stood up. He stood up, too. He offered me his hand.

"I'm sorry, but I know that touching makes the mind games easier."

The hand dropped back to his side. "I do not need to touch you to play mind games, Ms. Blake." The voice was wonderful, shining and bright as Christmas morning. My throat was tight, and the warmth of tears filled my eyes. Shit, shit, shit, shit.

I backed for the door, and Inger opened it for me. They were just going to let me leave. He wasn't going to mind-rape me and get the name. He was really going to let me walk away. That did more to prove him a good guy than anything else. Because he could have squeezed my mind dry. But he let me go.

Inger closed the door behind us, slowly, reverently.

"How old is he?" I asked.

"You couldn't tell?"

I shook my head. "How old?"

Inger smiled. "I am over seven hundred years old. Mr. Oliver was ancient when I met him."

"He's older than a thousand years."

"Why do you say that?"

"I've met a vampire that was a little over a thousand. She was scary, but she didn't have that kind of power."

He smiled. "If you wish to know his true age, then you must ask him yourself."

I stared up at Inger's smiling face for a minute. I remembered where I'd seen a face like Oliver's. I'd had one anthropology class in college. There'd been a drawing that looked just like Oliver. It had been a reconstruction of a Homo erectus skull. Which made Oliver about a million years old.

"My God," I said.

"What's wrong, Ms. Blake?"

I shook my head. "He can't be that old."

"How old is that?"

I didn't want to say it out loud, as if that would make it real. A million years. How powerful would a vampire grow in a million years?

A woman walked up the hallway towards us, coming from deeper in the house. She swayed on bare feet, toenails painted a bright scarlet that matched her fingernails. The belted dress she wore matched the nail polish. Her legs were long and pale, but it was that kind of paleness that promised to tan if it ever got enough sunlight. Her hair fell past her waist, thick and absolute black. Her makeup was perfect, her lips scarlet. She smiled at me; fangs showed below her lips.

But she wasn't a vampire. I didn't know what the hell she was, but I knew what she wasn't. I glanced at Inger. He didn't look happy.

"Shouldn't we be going?" I said.

"Yes," he said. He backed towards the front door and I backed behind him. Neither of us took our eyes off the fanged beauty slinking down the hall towards us.

She moved in a liquid run that was almost too fast to follow. Lycanthropes could move like that, but that wasn't what she was, either.