Chapter The Worst of Enemies
Scarlet greeted Kitara with overt enthusiasm when the Sleeper slid into their booth the next evening.
“You’d think she was your coven-mate, not me,” Jamal muttered to Scarlet. “The way you fawn over her all the time.”
“Maybe because I’m prettier?” Kitara quipped, making Scarlet laugh.
Jamal, however, didn’t find it amusing and scowled. “Why are you here?” he asked. “You’re distracting us from shit we need to do, and we don’t have time to deal with your ex-hookup or whatever.”
“God, you’re such a dick sometimes,” Scarlet snapped. “She’s not bothering me, and you need to get over yourself.”
“Your bubbly bullshit is getting old,” he shot back. “When we finalized the coven, I didn’t think I’d be getting sunshine and rainbows shoved up my ass every day.”
“Well, you could definitely use some.” Kitara rested her chin on one hand. “Though you might consider taking your sunshine and rainbow dose orally next time. The anal method doesn’t seem very effective.”
“Fuck you, Sabine.”
“You wish.” Kitara borrowed the retort from her exchange with Blake. However, unlike that conversation, which carried an undertone of amusement, this particular exchange lacked humor. If Jamal antagonized her much longer, she would have to retaliate in a way he really wouldn’t appreciate—though she’d chosen club attire again tonight, which meant she couldn’t carry her blades.
Won’t be making that mistake again.
Kitara barely blinked when Storm entered The Sanguine Queen; she’d been expecting him, in fact. He dressed much like the previous night in a dark ensemble and blue contacts. He headed to the bar and ordered a drink from Blake.
“That guy again?” Scarlet whined, distracting Jamal and Kitara from their standoff. “What are we, a resort for angels now?”
“He’s Valëtyrian?” Jamal asked, frowning.
“Saw him at Cosmos a couple nights ago. Had a buddy with him then, though.” Scarlet glanced at Kitara. “Right? That’s the same guy?”
“I think so.”
Jamal cast the two of them a wary look. “You talked to the angel?”
“Flirted,” Scarlet corrected. “I flirted with the angel. Nothing wrong with that.”
“For all you know, he could be a Slayer waiting to stake you,” Jamal growled. “This whole thing will be pointless if you’re ash.”
“Nah, he’s too innocent for that,” Scarlet said with an un-vampire-like giggle. “Every girl he’s had, if any, was probably as vanilla as they come.”
“I’d rather avoid him if it’s all the same to you,” Kitara said.
“Great. Find a different bar to hang out in,” Jamal bit out. “You avoid him, we avoid you. Everybody’s happy.”
“Fuck off, Jamal,” Kitara snarled. Sometimes it became necessary to remind testy Netherlings she wasn’t easily intimidated. “Unless you want me to knock you into Ostragarn.”
“I’m going to get another drink,” Scarlet announced, standing. “Let me know when your pissing match is done.”
Kitara and Jamal glared at each other as Scarlet crossed the establishment and sidled up alongside Storm as he lounged at the bar.
Here’s hoping he can handle himself.
“Keep insulting me, and I’ll find a better use for your tongue,” Kitara growled. “Like shoving it up your ass with Scarlet’s sunshine and rainbows.”
It was a literal threat despite the figurative speech, and he knew it.
“Bitch, try it,” he snapped. “I’ll find an equally good use for your mouth—”
Another bold aura, closer than Storm’s, brushed against Kitara’s skin, and then Baylen was looming over the table, his white hair reflecting the bar’s blue ambient lighting.
“You two are making a scene,” he said, though he focused on Jamal.
For whatever reason, the color drained from Jamal’s face, leaving him even paler than his normal vampire pallor.
“Sabine is with me,” Baylen said. “And I think you have outstayed your welcome.”
Kitara had never seen a vampire vanish from sight so fast.
Baylen settled beside her and nodded at the waitress, who brought him a bloody martini.
“You again,” Kitara said mildly.
He snorted. “Me again.”
“I could have managed,” she said. “You didn’t have to interfere—”
“Consider it a favor to Blake.”
Kitara peeked over her shoulder to find the bartender glaring in her direction.
“He really doesn’t like people messing up his place, huh?”
“He does not.”
She turned her suspicious gaze on the white-haired immortal. “Didn’t realize you held so much clout with the Ostragonians, what with you trying to keep such a low profile and all.”
“They know if Blake sends me to intervene, they’d better move themselves elsewhere.”
“But you didn’t kick me out,” Kitara reminded him. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that threat was aimed solely at Jamal.”
“Jamal is not one of my favorite vampires, and I enjoy humbling him on occasion.” Baylen sipped his martini.
Blood feud?
“Thanks, I guess.” Her gaze flickered across the bar, where Scarlet had settled in Storm’s personal space. He wasn’t as focused on her as he should have been, considering he kept darting glances in the direction of Kitara’s booth. Then again, her spat with Jamal was hardly subtle, so he wasn’t alone.
Kitara opted to seize the opportunity to discuss more important things with the enigmatic immortal beside her. “I haven’t found out anything about the Doruri. I’m digging into it, though.”
“I’ll admit, I’m disappointed. Things are picking up below, so an idea of what they’re after would be helpful.”
“You’re friends with the Maker, who’s supposed to be the most powerful immortal in Ostragarn,” Kitara snarked. “Why not send you, or go find out for himself?”
“Politics,” Baylen replied simply. “The Maker has enough enemies. He hardly needs another in Itzal.”
“Not as powerful as he thinks he is, then.”
“It isn’t that. Fending off a blood feud or some other such nonsense with the General would be a waste of time he wouldn’t appreciate.”
“Thought he was bored?” Kitara drawled. “Maybe he could use some excitement in his life.”
The corner of Baylen’s lips quirked. “Maybe you’re right. But Ostragarn’s renewed interest in immortal genetics has already caused enough excitement for him.”
“Immortal genetics?” Kitara arched an eyebrow. “You mean the Doruri?”
Baylen nodded. “When Ostragarn’s last ruler dabbled in this field, it made him unstoppable for…centuries. The Maker isn’t keen on repeating the experience, given the volatility of that time.”
“Unstoppable? How? What did he do?”
Baylen pinned her with a steely gaze. “He also tried to restore the Fallen.”
“What happened?”
“The demons happened.”
Kitara blinked. “The…demons. They’re the result of genetic experimentation?”
Baylen nodded. “He was convinced the right genetic combination would undo the Fallen damage. He resorted to capturing and draining other immortals indiscriminately. Many were lost to his experiments or simply disappeared without a trace: Valëtyrians and Ostragonians and yes, the Doruri too. Even his own children, it’s been said—children bred for the sole purpose of furthering his agenda.”
“That’s sick,” Kitara growled.
He grimaced. “The demons emerged as a result: immortals mutated and warped beyond recognition. Powerful, yes, but not the solution he wanted. So his obsession grew, eventually turning to madness. He was ultimately overthrown.”
“Who was he? I don’t remember anyone like this.”
“His name was Shyamal. You may be too young to remember him. His fear of his own mortality drove his search for a solution to not only restore himself but make him immune to anything like it in the future. The possibility of Ostragarn revisiting the same concept—especially someone like the General—is alarming. I don’t know about you, but I hardly wish to be a lab rat in some Ostragonian dungeon.”
“You think they’ll start abducting immortals again?” Kitara resisted the instinctive urge to glance at Storm.
“It’s a possibility,” Baylen replied. “But even if they don’t, the mere fact that they’re revisiting the experimentation, revisiting anything about that time…is concerning. Who knows what kind of dangerous knowledge they’ll discover? What they’ll rediscover?” He sipped his drink with an impassive expression as he turned to meet her eyes. “Like, perhaps, how the sole surviving daughter of the Ninthëvels walks amongst them as an AIDO Sleeper?”