Sharkbait

I boarded the flight for New Orleans, stuck near the rear in a center seat due to the late ticket buy. Ben was just in front of the bathrooms at the back of the plane. Thank Luna that it was a short flight with only one crying baby.

We waited together in the lounge near the gate Adrienne was coming in at for almost an hour. She started interrogating me on what was going on while her plane was still landing, and kept it up until she stepped into the terminal. I had her caught up by the time Adrienne pulled me into her arms and squeezed. “You bold, reckless girl,” she said as she sat back. “I’m kicking myself for letting you get into this situation.”

“It was the right move at the time,” I said. I turned to Ben. “We’ve got it from here. My Aunt will protect me now. Thank you for everything, and have a good flight back to San Diego.” I handed him an envelope with his fee in cash, and he pocketed it as he walked off. We couldn’t bring a human to where we were going next.

My Aunt had called ahead to rent a car, and soon we were making our way through the sweltering August heat to get into the full-size sedan. We were on our way to the French Quarter, where the sprawling three-story Italianate mansion lay just a few blocks off the tourist area. It was my first time in New Orleans, and I could see why the vampires liked it. “Drunk tourists, voodoo, poverty, all within easy walking distance,” I said.

“Preying on tourists makes it more difficult to establish patterns,” Adrienne agreed. We pulled up to an iron gate between a commercial building and the neatly manicured grounds of the mansion. Adrienne rolled down the window to speak into the security screen, where a uniformed guard appeared on the small screen. Looking around, I spotted a dozen surveillance cameras, two concealed sniper positions, and the outline of the pop-up vehicle barrier system. These vampires didn’t play around with security. “Adrienne Volkov and Vicki Lawrence here to see Master Cyprian Pontalba.”

“Do you have an appointment, Mrs. Volkov?”

“No. It is worthy of Mr. Pontalba’s time.”

The video went dark as we waited. It was a few minutes before the gates started to move apart. The guard appeared on the screen again. “Pull around to the left and park in the visitor space. Mr. Pontalba’s assistant will meet you there.”

“Thank you.” We pulled forward and turned just before the garage at the back of the property, parking in one of the marked visitor spaces. A beautiful young woman came out of the mansion, holding her tablet computer in one hand. “Let me do the talking unless I ask you to fill in,” Adrienne said. “These Masters can be fickle and easily offended.”

“They give me the creeps,” I said.

We got out as the raven-haired woman reached the front of our rental. She was a vampire, so her actual age could be anything, but she looked like she was about my age. Her skin was pale and flawless, her body sculpted by a God, and even I was a little intimidated by her beauty. “Welcome to the Dufour Mansion, Luna Adrienne, Miss Vicki,” she said with a bright smile. “My name is Cornelia, and if you’d follow me, we’ll get you comfortable until the Master is available.”

“Thank you,” my aunt replied.

We followed her up the stairs to the wrap-around porch and inside the entry door; if Master Corvinus’ office was plush, this place was a museum. Antiques, paintings, and many other priceless items filled the space. The ceilings were very high, at least twelve feet, and transom windows along the top would have allowed for air circulation in the times before air conditioning. Marble floors stretched wall to wall, while ceramic tiles ran up the walls ten feet high. The wall hangings hung from hangers near the ceiling. “Interesting choice of materials,” I said as I looked around.

“As you know, flooding in New Orleans is fairly common. The mansion design allows for floodwaters up to eighteen feet high without structural damage; when the floods recede, we rinse off the tile and bring everything down from storage in the upper rooms,” Cornelia said. “Add in hurricane shutters and solid construction, and this house has survived everything Mother Nature has thrown at her.”

“What happened during Hurricane Evelyn?” Evelyn was a Cat 5 storm that had flooded most of New Orleans to levels not seen since Katrina. In addition to the high winds, the storm surge was fifteen feet above sea level.

“We had time to move the priceless objects to secure storage inland. The flooding reached within a foot of the top of the tile. It was a close one.” I had a lot of respect for hurricanes, and couldn’t imagine living in a place with those AND streets already six feet below sea level. She led us up a staircase to the second floor, where woodwork and tapestries took over the décor. We ended up in a sitting room overlooking the garden. A human maid brought us lemonade and cookies as we waited. “I will get you in as soon as I can,” Cornelia said as she checked on us a half-hour later. “Master’s schedule is full.”

“We understand,” Adrienne said. “Circumstances did not allow us to request an appointment.”

An hour later, we were still waiting. “How long do we wait,” I asked.

“Until he sees us. Vampires do not sleep, so eventually, he will find time for us. How is your friend doing?”

“He expects to leave the hospital in the morning; I’d like to be there.”

“I don’t know if we will be back in time if this goes late. Make other arrangements,” Adrienne said.

I sent a text to Susan, asking if she and Hammer could watch him if I didn’t make it back in time. “Way ahead of you, Vicki. We will be bringing him to our place, and Commander Prentice is assigning someone to protect him while he recovers. NCIS is investigating the attack with Coronado Police. They think it is more likely retaliation against a SEAL than an attempt to kill a swimsuit model.”

I could see them thinking that way, but the Naval Criminal Investigative Service was never going to learn about werewolves. “Have you seen James tonight?”

“I can’t get in, but Hammer did since he is retired military. His girlfriend took off, his body is busted up, he can’t work, and his motorcycle is totaled. It’s like a country song.”

I sent James some messages, but either the Navy hospital didn’t allow him his phone, or it broke in the crash because he never responded. I started checking my other messages Makani and Noelani wanted to help, but Alpha Stephen was making them finish their training.

Mercedes was freaking out and wanted to know if I was all right. I assured her I was fine, with just a few bruises, and the custom motorcycle gear she sent had saved me. “I’m still good for our scheduled appearances. I can use new riding gear; the leather is too beat up to reflect the Bodyglove brand now,” I sent her.

“I’ll do what I can, but you need to consider NOT GETTING ON MOTORCYCLES ANYMORE. You are lucky your career didn’t end yesterday.”

“I’ll be ready for San Francisco on Saturday,” I sent back.

The maid returned, bringing two plates of Shrimp Creole with white rice and a bottle of wine. We ate silently, going over our plans for how we would broach the issues with the Supreme Vampire when we finally got an audience. I spent some time after dinner updating my social media, which had gone wild with the reports of the accident. There was even video someone had shot at the crash site. I left a long post letting everyone know I wasn’t hurt, and how my safety gear saved me from serious injury.

It was nearly midnight when Cornelia appeared at our door. “The Supreme Vampire will see you now,” she said. We followed her out of the room and down the hallway to an ornate double-door. She knocked before opening the door and waving us in.

No photos existed of Supreme Vampire Cyprian Pontalba, and Adrienne’s description did not do him justice. He was a large black man with a bald head and broad shoulders. Dressed impeccably in a white linen suit, he rose from behind the ornately carved rosewood desk that dominated his office. I could see why Alexander wanted Mantled Alpha blood before challenging him.

“Luna Volkov,” Cyprian said in a deep baritone voice. “Your Council Chairman was shocked to hear that you were in my home requesting an audience. He did not send you, and you do not convey his authority. You are not even on the council anymore,” he said as he greeted her by lifting her hand to his nose.

Raising back up, he moved to me. “And Alpha Heir Vivian Lawrence,” he said as he lifted my outstretched hand. “It is a pleasure to meet one as young and accomplished as yourself.” He froze when he got a good sniff of me. “Who bit you?”

“That is why we are here, Master Pontalba,” I said.

“Please, call me Cyprian. Sit, and we will discuss this.” Adrienne and I sat in the antique red-upholstered chairs in front of his desk. “You were bitten voluntarily?”

“Yes, but there is more to the story,” I said.

“Perhaps you should start from the beginning,” he said as he sat back. Adrienne started to talk, but he held up his hand. “Vicki is the one who let one of my kind feed from her, and I want to hear her story,” he said. “Leave us.”

“She is my responsibility,” Adrienne objected.

“She is of age, is she not? Did she offer her neck, or did you offer it for her?” Her face answered for her. “Wait outside, Luna. Your niece is in no danger from me.”

“Of course.” She got up and walked out. I’d seen Luna Adrienne deal with obstinate Alphas, disputes, and feuds in the thirteen years I had known her. I never saw her back down before another the way she did at this moment. “Leave the link open for me,” she said.

“I will.”

Cyprian reached into a refrigerator behind his desk and took out a bottle of water for me. “The beginning is a good place to start,” he said.

“For that, we need to go back to my coming of age,” I said. “It was in Florida at the annual Alpha Summit that I found my mate balls-deep in another female. From there, it went downhill.”

“Take your time,” he said as he leaned back. “I have all night.”