The day passed quietly as we slept, disturbed by little more than the faint shifting of shadows. Our loyal familiars tended to the witch who still lay motionless in one of the guest rooms. She had shown no improvement, yet no decline either.
In this situation, I will take progress in any form, so long as we are able to question her eventually. If she does not wake, she is still of major value—dead or alive. She will not be touched one way or the other without my order.
We gathered in the dining room for a brief family meeting before the night began in its usual rhythm. I sat at the head of the table. Chad stood at my right hand, as he always did. Kara took the seat immediately beside me. Jade sat across from her. Sonya sat to the right of Kara. Johnny sat across from Sonya. Four familiars filled out the far end of the table, eyes sharp and waiting.
Johnny was not yet a vampire. He had worked for the family for two years when he became a familiar. For four years now he had been our top day guard. He was nearly ready. All we needed was to decide his sire and set a date.
Of course, I will make the final call, but I let everyone put in their two cents—just to ensure no detail slips past me. He is ready. I think Chad may be ready to be his sire. They already get along great, but that does not guarantee it will transfer to his next life. Look at Sonya. She is the polar opposite of the person she was as a human.
That was Kara's call. She made Sonya outside the family. That was not against me. Once they reach a certain point, I let them know they have the right and ability to change someone. They can do that. Jade has also been given the green light on what I call "Battlefield Births." Anyone else tries they WILL answer to me.
I would have said no if Kara had asked, but she saw what Sonya had inside her and she was right. Of course, if someone makes a call like that and it does not work out then other plans will have to be made. Nobody can ever know exactly what other changes will happen when a human is reborn.
I began to fill everyone in on the exact situation. I went over everything starting from Kara's party, all about Kyle and Sara. I let them know the status of the witches and the one we have sleeping at the moment under our roof. I painted the image of Joe-ell and his ilk, and what I planned to talk about with Celeste, our crazy Latina werecat.
After everyone was caught up, I asked if there were any questions and Chad tapped me on the shoulder. I was a bit surprised, and he pointed at himself and gave me the "Drive" sign.
I said, "Thank you, Chad, but no, I will not be needing your driving services tonight. It has been nice to feel the power behind the wheel again. You are still my number one driver, but I got this one pal, Just keep an eye on our little 'Willow' across the hall. All I need is for her to wake up and burn this place down with a club full of people."
Chad gave me a nod and walked across to the witch's room. I looked at Johnny and said, "That means you are on the door tonight alone. Make sure you have your radio on. If you need Jade she, or her team should be only steps away."
He nodded his head and said, "On it, boss."
I looked at everyone else and said, "That should do. Have a great night, everyone."
I set my hand on Kara's shoulder, and she sat as everyone else set out to their posts. I told her, "I don't want you to let your day-to-day work go, but I require you to spend as much time as you can on finding something out about the witches, or something that can cut 'em down. If you need to have one of the drones help you, take them all. Whatever you need, dear." She slowly closed her eyes, lowering her head in quiet acknowledgment.
I made for the garage and set out to see Celeste. Before I left, I asked Kara to call her and let her know I was on my way.
The drive was quiet. When I arrived, there was little life anywhere. The place looked like Detroit in the early 2000s—rows of buildings stripped of glass, windows like empty eyes. No movement. No trash. Not even the scent of human decay. The silence was thick, broken only by the faint, nauseating smell of dead fish that clung to the air, stale and suffocating.
I shut the car door and the sound echoed down the hollow street. Then, movement. Hundreds of cats lifted their heads at once, peering from shattered windows and alley mouths. A ripple of eyes and fur, watching. I stood there a moment, listening to the faint sound of purring and claws scratching metal.
It was strange that there was even cell service in a place like this. But then, I suppose this would be the kind of place a cat would choose—quiet, abandoned, unreachable.
As I walked inside the building, the air changed. Heavy. Dry. It felt as though humans had not lived here in decades. My footsteps sent dust falling from cracked brick and broken plaster. The floors had curled in the corners from age and neglect. Whatever patterns or tiles once decorated them had long since faded.
Holes gaped here and there, dark as open mouths, waiting for a mistake. I stepped carefully and made for the stairs. Surprisingly, they had held up better than the rest of the structure.
At the second floor, I found the door marked 2AC. I knocked once.
A half-dozen locks clicked and scraped. The door cracked open.
"Hello, doll. You should be expecting me, Cel."
The door swung wide. An old woman in tattered rags stood before me. She said nothing, only gestured for me to enter. I stepped into a narrow room just past the door. The woman turned, locking every bolt she had just opened. The sound echoed like gunfire in the silence.
Then—darkness.
I heard the soft rustle of cloth as she dropped the rags and moved to the far wall. A faint click. The floor shuddered beneath my boots. We were moving.
An elevator. Clever.
When it stopped, the door opposite the one I entered slid open, and the world changed.
Light. Music. Heat. A burst of color so bright it stabbed the dark. An underground mansion spread before me, dripping in neon and gold.
And standing at the heart of it all—Celeste.
Gone was the frail disguise. In her place was a woman who looked carved by sin itself. Skin the color of warm bronze. Hair bright as sunlight. Strawberry lips curved in mischief. Her eyes—deep green, sharp, and knowing. Black and gold makeup traced the planes of her face like war paint.
A flamingo-pink bikini clung to her, a dark blue sash tied low on her hip. Narrow waist. Long legs. A body built for motion, not rest. She could not weigh more than ninety-five pounds, standing maybe five-foot-two, but every inch was designed to command attention.
At a glance, she was legs, curves, and chaos wrapped in perfume.
"Brax, get in here before you bring ICE to my door."
Her English was perfect, though she twisted it with a thick Spanish accent for effect.
"Sit, sit somewhere. You make me nervous if you keep standing."
She followed me to where I sat, then dropped onto my lap, her body pressing against mine. She didn't sit still. Her movements were slow, deliberate, grinding her hips against me with each shift.
Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling herself closer, her eyes locked on mine. "So," she said, her voice low, "what's so important that you had to come all the way down to hell just to see me?"
Her body stayed in motion, relentless, forcing me to stay focused on her every move. The air between us was thick, charged. Every shift, every subtle movement of her hips made it clear she was testing me—pushing, probing, waiting for a crack.
She kept her gaze steady, watching for any sign of weakness. Her voice was low, smooth, and dangerous. "So," she purred, "what's so important that you had to come all the way down to hell just to see me?"
Her fingers played with the edge of my collar, teasing, like she had all the time in the world.
A dirty little smile crossed her face.
I know what you are thinking. You are thinking, Does everyone in this creature culture want to have sex all the time or what? The answer is yes. When you do not have to worry about the laws of man—only mobs of humans and other creatures—the concerns become simple. Eat. Survive. Find the next body to get you off.
As life grows easier, the patterns of creatures—no matter what they are—become predictable. It is when the focus shifts that the curveballs come.
I looked at Celeste and, doing my best not to let her know she had found the spot she was looking for, said, "I have a serious subject to discuss with you, love."
She finally stopped swiveling her hips and dropped her arms. "You are no fun! You and I could have made some gossip that the underworld would have talked about for centuries but, NOO. You have to bring up the serious stuff right away. You really know how to dry a girl up, you know that."
She tossed a drink down on the table beside me, nearly spilling half of it in frustration.
"I hate to distract you, my dear, but this is about your safety."
That dirty look flashed back in her eyes. Almost able to see the moisture return, she took one huge step in my direction, inches from my body. She straightened, pressing her arms together until her chest rose hard and full, and she shook slowly as she stood.
"You worry about me?" Her voice broke, almost fragile.
"Of course I do. Just because we are told to hate each other does not mean we should. Just because we eat the same food does not mean we have to hunt each other. You are all alone over here, and you are a pack animal. You have always been very sweet to me. All in all, you are one of my closest friends outside the family."
She pressed her knees together as if in real pain. I caught her by the shoulders.
"Witches are coming to town. As far as I know they have no interest in you, but they are the strongest witches I have seen in a very long time. If I ever saw someone riding you, I would have to mount another war. That is also something I would not want to do."
She pinched her nipples through the bikini. "Brax, I love it when you get jealous. But you know… to be jealous of someone riding me, you really should ride me first. Two or three times should be good for that kind of jealousy."
I smiled. Most of this was her trying to get me worked up anyway. "You know anyone that could look at you and not strip you down with the intent of drilling to China is crazy, but I do have to go now, love."
She looked at me as if she had just broken her favorite shoe.
I stood and headed for the lift.
"You will be back for me, Brax! You see this hair?" she called out, having no idea where she was going with the question.
I turned, squinting.
"You do know how they make blondies, do not you?"
Still no idea.
"Blondies are made with brown sugar and white chocolate!"
She slammed the elevator button, laughing.
As I rode the lift up to the street, I thought about the truth of it: if we ever did have sex, a woman like her would believe she owned me. That was something I could never live down. She was dangerously hot, but the flip side was worse than the pain of her chasing me for the next hundred years.
I stepped out, made my way to the car, and started for home.