CHAPTER 1

~ A Dark alley in Tulsa ~

 

Kazar watches as the woman who has played a role in his dreams for centuries looks around the alley for hidden threats.  She quickly locks the door to her vintage clothing consignment store and makes a mad dash for her car.  It’s an old clunker parked only yards away under the brand new, magickally enhanced, security light in the alleyway.  He wonders why Callie is so nervous tonight.  She has always been a cautious soul, but this level of… fear, seems out of character.  What has happened during the five years he was gone to leave her so frightened? 

The ancient vampire watches thoughtfully from his place hidden in the shadows as her old beater coughs and sputters before the engine decides to idle roughly in the cool Oklahoma spring night.  The thirty-two year old brunette store owner warily looks around the alley once more before shifting her vehicle into reverse and backing out of her parking space, and then driving cautiously out of the alley. 

Kazar rises from his hiding spot with the intention of getting on his motorcycle to follow his lovely human to her home, when he feels the presence of his longtime friend and trusted confidant flash in beside him.  “A lot has happened to your little Callie in your absence,” the woman says, with more than a hint of accusation in her tone.

The powerfully built, tall man with rich golden skin, aristocratic features, and dark eyes of obsidian turns to glare down at the diminutive vampire beside him.  “I was unavoidably detained.”  He reaches up with both hands to push his shaggy black hair from his face, and cringes when he hears his friend gasp at the sight of the scars that now mar the left side of his once perfect face.

“What the fuck happened to you, Kazar?” the petite blond vampire demands.

“Nyx,” he growls bitterly.  Bile rises in his throat as he recalls being at the she-beast’s mercy for nearly five years.  “I left Tulsa five years ago on a simple retrieval mission for the UCI.”  Tara nods her acknowledgement.  Everyone at the MC knew that.  “It seems there was a certain ancient Dream Walker who had been loyal to the bitch of darkness before her banishment to the Nihility.  The United Council of Immortals wanted proof of his recent reported crimes and wanted him in custody.”

Kazar jams his hands into the back pockets of his jeans in an affected pose of ease.  “A few weeks of investigation revealed that this old conjurer had been entering dreams of mortals so that he could drag his victims into the realm of nothingness for his Mistress’ entertainment.”  The disgusted look on his face mirrors that of his friend.  “Yeah, I was tasked with the job of tracking him down.  Once I found him, I was supposed to call in back up from the UCI and take him into custody.” 

He feels his face heat when he admits.  “It was a trap.  The Dream Walker was waiting for me.”  As much as it pains the ancient vampire to admit this next part, he won’t sugarcoat the story or try to make himself look good in front of his old friend.  “I was overly confident and refused to take back up.  I did not check the scene before I moved in to make the arrest.  The Dream Walker used a very ancient sleep spell to knock me out.  When I awoke, I was trapped in the Nihility at the mercy of the queen bitch goddess herself.”

He holds up his scarred wrists for his friend’s examination, but quickly stuffs his hands back into his pockets.  Looking at the evidence of his captivity still fills him with shame and feelings of helplessness. “I was bound to that two headed beast form of hers for nearly five years with bespelled manacles.  Because of my arrogance and unwillingness to view a Dream Walker as a real threat, and my past indiscretions, I was tortured repeatedly.  For years.”

“Why did they go after you specifically?” his friend asks gently.

“Ahhh, again my own foolishness and vanity.  Nyx herself turned me into a Stone Cold.  In fact, I was one of her first.  I thought that made me somehow special.”  His mirthless laugh belies that belief.  “I was simply one of thousands of besotted minions enthralled by the dark goddess.  I foolishly worshiped her as my goddess of the Moon and the Night, and thought that I was special and somehow blessed because she occasionally took me to her bed.”  His dark scoff echoes throughout the silent alley. 

Kazar stares unseeingly at the dumpster near the back door of Callie’s shop because he is uncomfortable meeting the very wise and knowing gaze of his friend.  “Let’s just say, it took a great deal to make me see the truth about my “goddess”.  But Nyx finally went too far, and killed all of the loyalty I had for her in my soul.”  There is no mistaking the disgust in his tone.  “I turned my back on her when she murdered the last Dragon Queen.” 

The ancient Egyptian vampire chuckles wryly, but his expression isn’t even remotely amused.  It is haunted.  “It only took the bloody genocide of an entire race for me to see the truth about Nyx.” Tara can feel the remorse her friend still carries over this tragedy.  “It took a great deal to make me see the right path.  Once I did, I took hundreds of Nyx’s followers, all my own creations, from her when I rebelled and tried to teach them a better way to exist and releasing them to live as free souls.”  Night sounds of the city encroach upon their pocket of existence as the older vampire swallows the bile of his dark memories before speaking again. “The bitch of darkness has a very long memory for those who she believes betrayed her.”

“Oh fuck!” the blond vampire seethes and her companion can see beyond her façade of a wise-cracking, bad-ass bitch.  Her heart is filled with a deep need to reach out to comfort her friend and ally, but she knows it would only make the situation even more awkward if she gave into that impulse.  “So, Kazar, are you okay? I mean, really okay?”

“I will be.  Eventually.”  He shifts inside the leather jacket around his body to stave off the spring night chill.  “I’m feeding regularly and slowly re-couping some of my magick.”  He snorts.  “But I doubt I will ever be the male I once was.”

Silence reigns for long moments between the friends until Kazar asks after the person closest to his heart.  “Nyle?  Is he well?”

Tara shrugs.  “He was, last time I saw him.”  The older vamp looks away, and she mutters; “He’s been searching for you.”

His younger vampire friend places a comforting hand on his shoulder, and stands there in silent solidarity as both of them are lost for a short time in their own thoughts.  “So, Tara, tell me what has happened to my Callie in my absence.”

The sultry sex witch turned vampire nods and gives her friend a sad smile.  “Come back to the MC with me.  This is not a story I want to share in a dark alley.”  Kazar can only shake his head in disbelief when she strides off to her Harley which is parked at the mouth of the alley. 

“I thought you flashed in.  How did I not hear your motorcycle?” Kazar demands.

“Like I said, you’ve been gone a while, my brother.  And I’ve picked up a few tricks of stealth from a certain voodoo queen.”

“Ugh,” Kazar says as he mounts his own machine.  “I would think that the magick gifted to your coven by Atrox Fortuna would be incompatible with Voodoo.”

Tara straddles her bike before replying.  “Maybe,” she admits with a shrug.  “Maybe not.  I’ve learned recently that Voodoo isn’t all about death.  Besides, the little Cajun Queen isn’t really a Voodoo practitioner.  Just a human partially bonded with a demon.  But she’s been hunting rogue paranorms down in the Louisiana Bayous for two centuries and has picked up a few tricks along the way.  We got off to a rough start, but we’re buddies these days and have swapped a few trade secrets.”

“Then why do you call her voodoo queen?”

“Just to fuck with her.”  The blond vampire chuckles wryly.  “I like the girl, she’s a kick ass hunter and sweet as pie, but she broke Joker’s heart back in the day.” 

“Ah, ha.  So, our Joker’s lovely Jenniene still lives?” 

At first, Tara simply nods with a big grin on her face.  But then she can’t keep the news to herself any longer.  “Yep, she lives and the fools are finally fully claimed and mated.”

“That’s truly wonderful news,” Kazar beams, momentarily distracted from his concern for the human woman.  “And as Joker’s friend, you have taken it upon yourself to educate the wayward Jenniene in the error of her ways?”

“Sorta.”  The blond vampire in the biker leathers smirks playfully.  “It pisses Joker off, but I figure sweet or not, she’s gotta pay the piper for hurting my brother.”  The wicked look on Tara’s face reminds Kazar why he never, ever, wants to get cross-ways with his little friend.  “Now, quit fucking around in this dark-ass alley, and let’s go get a drink.”  With that, she fires up her old Harley with a practiced kick and roars off into the night, no longer bothering to mask the sound of her bike’s loud pipes.

Kazar shakes his head and chuckles wryly at the retreating form of his dear friend.  He only hesitates a moment longer before starting his own motorcycle to follow after his fellow enforcer.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The greeting from the Immortal enforcers of the MC is raucous and heartwarming.  He enjoys hearing about recent adventures and meeting a few new members, including Rambler, a psychic warrior and Jarome, a Griffon shifter.  Despite his joy in seeing old and new comrades, he can’t help but be shocked to learn what has befallen the clubhouse in his absence. The centuries old three story native rock building had been heavily damaged in an attack by a band of rogue Ghouls and a Blood Wraith faction on Halloween night last year.  The new construction is nearly complete, and when it is finished, will be a fairly accurate replica of the original building, at least in appearance.  But Blood, the leader of the Twin Ravens band of enforcers, assures Kazar that the new building has been magickally reinforced and will withstand a nuclear blast or a cosmically cataclysmic magickal implosion.  In the meanwhile, the MC has set up residence and operate their strip club out of the massive two-story garage.  Kazar is curious about that and everything else that has happened at the MC in his absence, but his focus is on getting answers from Tara about Callie.  When she first flashed in beside him in that alley, she hinted that something bad had happen to his mortal in his absence. 

Once he finally gets through the greetings, he leads Tara off to a private booth for the promised drink and information.  He watches impatiently as Tara pours three fingers of her fine Scotch whisky into a tumbler and pushes it across the table with a determined look on her face.  When Wrath, the club enforcer, and Blood, the prez, join them in the booth, Kazar quickly becomes convinced that he will not like what he is about to hear. 

“Drink that, brother,” Tara says gently.  “And maybe a few more.  My news isn’t good.”

Kazar impatiently shoves the glass away, causing the amber liquid to slosh out of the tumbler.  His friend and fellow enforcer suppresses a snarl at what she likely perceives as his disrespect of her fine liquor.  “Fuck that, Tara.  I. Do Not. Want. A. Fucking. Drink.  Just tell me what happened to Callie while I was gone.”  He glances over at the leader of the MC and the head enforcer.  “Blood is here to keep me calm, and Wrath can hold me here against my will if I lose my shit when you tell me what the hell is going on.  So spill!”

“Fine, asshole,” Tara huffs.  Taking the tumbler and draining it with a satisfied sigh.  “Well, fuck me for trying to be nice.  I just know you have been through hell already, and my news will not make you feel any better.”  She grunts and pours another three fingers of whisky as she sneers at Blood.  “See what I get when I try to be a kinder, gentler Tara?” 

Blood and Wrath simply throw their heads back to roar their laughter.  Blood has been after Tara for years to cultivate a less abrasive personality, but Kazar has always loved the snarky, filthy mouthed, wise-cracking vampire. She always speaks her mind, and he appreciates that quality in his friends.  But tonight, even Kazar is becoming annoyed with the sexy witch turned vampire.  Not because of her attitude, but because she is obviously delaying telling him what has happened to his mortal female in his absence.

When Tara sees that Kazar is fast approaching the end of his patience she exhales slowly before saying; “Callie was attacked twelve days ago.  In the alley behind her store.”  The sorrow he can see in his friend’s eyes tells him that it was bad.  And since the MC seems to be involved, it wasn’t an attack by a mundane.  Some fucking supe attacked his mortal female!

The snarl of animal rage that rips from the Egyptian vampire doesn’t even make his friends raise an eyebrow, but it does draw the curious stares of some of the mundane patrons.  “What do you mean, attacked?”  Kazar is fervently praying to any deity that might be listening that a beating was the worst that has befallen his mortal.

Tara reaches over and grasps her friend’s hands which are now clenched in tight fists on the table top before him.  “It’s bad.”  She looks away, and he can sense her deep regret, and a large measure of guilt roiling off of her in murky waves of anguish.  “We’ve been doing regular spot checks on your girl since you left for that UCI mission.  I built wards on her shop, home, and even her vehicle.  I even bound her to me with a blood exchange so that I would know if she were ever in trouble.” 

She looks down where she’s clasping my hands and licks her lips.  “I tried, brother.  I really did all that I could think of to do to keep your girl safe.  But the night she was attacked… uh, I was in one of my dark moods….”

Blood reaches out to give Tara’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze.  “Tara’s lingering darkness had flared up.  She had put herself into a meditative state to ride it out when she felt the attack on your Callie.  By the time she was able to come out of the deep trance state enough to tell me what was happening to the human girl…”  Blood raises his open hands in a gesture of helplessness.  “I went to your female as soon as Tara told me she was in danger, but it was too late.  She had been attacked by a rogue Stone Cold and left for dead.  I flashed her back to the MC to heal her, but we later learned…” Blood’s voice trails off as though unwilling to reveal the rest.

“What?” Kazar whispers, horrifying dread fills his very soul, because he fears he knows the rest of the story. 

“He didn’t just leave her for dead.”  Kazar’s very soul feels as though it has been ripped to shreds, and worse yet, Blood doesn’t look like he is through delivering the bad news.  “We don’t know why, but Callie did not become Stone Cold even though she was bitten.  Repeatedly.”  He pauses a heartbeat and delivers the rest of the bad news.  “Callie is carrying the fiend’s child.”

“Carrying that devil’s spawn to term will kill her!” Kazar snarls as rage overtakes him.  Immediately, he tries to rise to go to Callie’s home to intercede.  But the implacable stance of Blood and Wrath makes him realize he will not get around his leader and the MC’s Enforcer.   It is plain, he has no choice but to remain there and process the information before his friends will allow him to do anything else.

“Has anyone explained the consequences of this foolhardy decision to Callie?”  After all, she is an uninitiated human and would have no idea of the horror that lies ahead for her.

“She knows,” Tara says quietly.  “But she refuses to punish the baby for the sins of the father.”  She looks up and meets Kazar’s shell-shocked stare.  “Your female is a woman of strong personal convictions.”  No one at the table misses the obvious admiration in Tara’s tone and expression.  “She sees the termination of a pregnancy, or at least her pregnancy, as murder.”

“Well, fuck this.  I need to go make her see…”

“Sit down!” Blood barks out the command in a low, but undeniable tone.  “She knows all about us, the secret world of Immortals, and the dangers involved in attempting to carry this child to term.”  The leader of the Twin Ravens pauses a moment to let that sink in.  “Callie has made her decision, and you will honor it, just as the rest of us must do.”

The sneer on Kazar’s face makes it plain how much he despises that plan.  “So, you all thought it would be a good idea to let a traumatized mortal woman, who is carrying a vampire’s child, go out in the world to just fend for herself?”

“Fuck you, Kazar,” Wrath snaps, the rage he is named for flaring momentarily.  “You know us better than that.”  The massive Norse behemoth leans back in his seat, looking to all the world like he hasn’t a care, but Kazar can feel the wrath monster and his wolf alike clamoring to get out.  “My female is a social worker with Kat’s foundation.  Those ladies have experience dealing with traumatized women, and they have helped her as much as they can.  But your woman is stubborn and insisted upon returning to work today.”

“So, you let her go back to work with that…thing growing inside of her? And no one to watch over her?”  All can hear the outrage and disgust in Kazar’s words.

“Let her?  Do you even hear the words that are coming out of your mouth?” Tara snorts.  “She’s not our prisoner, asshole.  We do not penalize mortals for surviving when they are victimized by rogue paranorms.”

Blood floods Kazar with his calming essence, but the ancient vampire shakes it off, and casts an angry look at his leader.  “Don’t try to calm me down.”  He glares at his three friends with fire in his eyes.  “I can’t believe you are accepting this so easily.”

“We are doing all that we can to keep her safe.  In fact, Morna Michaels, the First Spell Weaver of Airendell, is treating her with her blood’s antibodies.  It is our hope that Callie will have a better chance at surviving the pregnancy and birth with these treatments.”

“But she’s human, not a damned Spell Weaver like Morna and Breena were when they gave birth to the original Airendell vamps.”  He emphatically shakes his shaggy head.  “No, she must get rid of the child.  It is too risky,” Kazar asserts stubbornly.

“Perhaps,” Tara concedes with a grim expression.  “But it is Callie’s risk to take, not yours, and not ours.  She’s been informed of the risks, and has made her decision.”  Tara picks up the tumbler and drains it before slamming it on the table top.  “And fuck all if I will let you mess with her head when she is already dealing with growing a vamp baby and looking over her shoulder for the fucker to come back and finish her off.”

“What!?!” Kazar’s outraged yell once again attracts the attention of the bar’s customers. Tara simply sighs and evokes the last call spell which makes the mundane customers desire to leave the strip club as quickly as possible, even though it isn’t even midnight.

Gin, Wrath’s mate and one of the newer additions to the Twin Ravens MC family, comes to stand behind her mate, where she places a loving hand on his shoulder.  The formidable demi-god lovingly covers her hand with his own, and leans in to rub his rough jaw along the tender flesh of her arm.  Such a loving gesture coming from his old friend, the rigid sadist and Dom, is shocking.  Despite Kazar’s own anguish and agitation over what has happened to his mortal, he is stunned that Wrath not only allows the buxom female’s touch, but obviously cherishes it.  That is when he realizes there is a great deal about his brethren that he must catch up on… and soon. 

And there is also something about this particular female that is very familiar.  Not her appearance, but her energy.  He has felt that energy somewhere before tonight, only much weaker than it is now.  But he’s too intent on learning what has befallen his female in his absence to worry about the Norse demi-god’s female.

Kazar looks at Blood and demands, “How did the rogue vamp escape?”

“Dimensional jumper,” Blood informs with a grim expression on his face.  “The rogue’s name is Finn Connor.  He was born into McTavish’s clan of dimensional jumpers back in the eighteenth century.  Later he broke away from the clan and went rogue.  A few hundred years ago, he was turned Stone Cold.” 

“Apparently, he’s stayed off everyone’s radar until this incident.  He’s probably been rogue all this time, but he’s avoided being recognized, until now,” Wrath says as he pulls his female into his lap.  Kazar watches in amazement as the sadistic and dominating Norse demi-god tenderly kisses the temple of his female in an unconscious demonstration of affection, as he publicly cuddles the pretty girl on is lap.  “The only reason we know who attacked your girl is because Blood recognized him from a bank robbery the rogue pulled off in Wichita back in 1898.”

“If the bastard is still alive and free, why did you allow Callie out of your protection?” Kazar demands harshly.  “If Connor learns that she still lives, he could come back at any time to finish the job and then simply jump to another dimension to avoid capture.”

“That’s enough,” Blood says vehemently.  “Kazar, I have allowed your shitty attitude and disrespect because I know you have been through a great deal for the last five years, and you are enduring a fresh hell right now to discover what has befallen the human female you have watched over for so many years.  But, Vampire, you know perfectly well that every single member of the Twin Ravens MC takes our jobs as protectors of mortals very seriously.  Do you honestly think we would abandon any mortal who might be at risk for a second attack by a rogue?” 

Kazar exhales slowly in an attempt to release some of his futile rage and frustration.  But he is feeling soul sick over what his precious Callie has endured.  And yet, he cannot deny the truth of his leader’s assertion.  After a tense moment, he shakes his head in the negative and meets his leader’s evaluating stare.  “Forgive me, Blood.  I am taking my frustrations out on my brethren when I should be focusing my energies on keeping my mortal safe.  I am simply concerned that she was out of the MC’s protection tonight when I saw her leave her store.”

Blood grunts and nods his acceptance of the apology.  “I understand, but get your shit together, my brother, before you see your female in the morning.”

“See her?  In the morning?”  Kazar questions.

“Yeppers,” Tara says with a wink before she takes another savoring sip from the tumbler of whisky.  “She is under the protection of the MC.”  She tosses her head to indicate the back door of the massive garage, temporarily turned strip club.  “We have some quarters upstairs, but we’ve also improvised barracks back there.  She bunks with Trinity and me, since we are her primary protectors.”

“Trinity?”

“Yep, the protection that even you could not sense tonight,” Tara says smugly.

“Who is this Trinity?”

“One of the Twin Ravens latest recruits.  She’s been with us about three and a half years now.”  Kazar can plainly see that Tara respects this new female.  “Callie is safe with Trinity acting as her shield.”

“How can you be sure?” Kazar demands.

Blood chuckles dryly.  “That is Trinity’s story to tell.  But rest assured, Trinity has been defending against evil since the beginning of time.”

“What?  How?”

Wrath and Blood simply shrug, and it is plain no more information will be forthcoming.  Tara cuts loose with a loud whistle and shouts out; “Hey Trin!  Got a minute?”

When a waif like female wearing worn motorcycle leathers breaks away from a small cluster of enforcers still drinking at the bar, Kazar can feel his outrage return.  How can his brethren seriously trust Callie’s protection into the hands of this tiny female?  Her long, mousey brown hair hides most of her face, and she ambles along with a calm, quiet, and wholly unimposing air about her.  The female’s shoulders are slouched as she clomps along lackadaisically with her tiny hands buried in the front pockets of her riding leathers.  Never once does she even look up to meet anyone’s gaze along the way.  Once she comes to stand near their table, she still doesn’t meet anyone’s gaze.  “Hey, Tara.  What’s up?”

“Trinity, this is Kazar.  He is the vampire you sensed in the alley tonight,” Tara says, before looking over smugly at the vampire in question.  “You pinged Trin’s radar before you even got within a mile of Callie’s shop tonight, and Trinity called in reinforcements.”

“Three of your own brethren were called in to back up Trinity, and you were never even aware of any of them until Tara flashed in beside you,” Wrath says with more than just a hint of disapproval in his tone.  “I know you have been through hell, my brother, but you have to trust that your brethren are not going to let you down.  We know you have been acting as self-appointed guardian for that little human woman for years.  Obviously, she means something to you, and any of us would give up our own lives to keep her safe.”  He looks at his female and smiles.  “Hell, it’s no more than we would do to keep any mortal safe from an identified threat.”

“Hey, Kazar,” Trinity says softly, completely ignoring the set down Wrath just handed Kazar.  Her tone and demeanor are so unassuming that Kazar still doubts her ability to protect his mortal.

“Little girl, you look like you need a protection detail of your own,” Kazar snorts.

Trinity chuckles softly and nods her head.  “Well, baby vamp, looks can be deceiving.”  With those quiet words, she raises her gaze to meet the millennia’s old vampire’s derisive glare head on.  For just a barest moment in time, she allows her control to slip just enough for him to see a hint of her power in her eyes.

“What in the name of all that is holy are you?” Kazar rasps out in shocked surprise.

“Fallen,” she says with a gentle smile, before returning her gaze to her scuffed boots.

“Fallen what?” the ancient Egyptian vampire croaks.

A dry chuckle escapes the wan lips of the wholly unimpressive looking female.  “That, my new friend, is a story for another night.”  She looks up again to meet his eyes, and Kazar is nearly overwhelmed by the sorrow he sees in her eyes.  But the waif is entirely unfazed by his reaction as she calmly reassures the anxious vampire.  “Do not worry, I can keep Callie safe.  I simply called in back up tonight because that is S.O.P. for the MC.  But don’t ever doubt that I would have taken you out in a heartbeat had you posed any kind of threat to my new friend.” 

The frail looking slip of a female smiles wanly and looks away.  “Morna even worked a binding spell to tie the girl to me.  If for some reason I am distracted, and the jumper snatches your girl, I will follow instantly.  Without fail.”  Slowly, she turns her head to once again meet Kazar’s gaze.  “She will survive to fulfill her destiny.”  Without another word, Trinity walks away.

“What the hell is she?” Kazar demands after he watches the new female enforcer exit the bar to go to the barracks.

Everyone at the table shrugs except for Blood, who simply says; “That is not my tale to tell.  And as Trinity has already told you, it is a story for another time.” 

Kazar simply nods and then reaches across the table to grab the tumbler that Tara just refilled and downs the whisky in a single gulp.  Tara giggles, something she rarely does, and Kazar can’t help wondering if he will ever catch up with all of the changes around the MC.  

With a knowing look on her face, Tara says; “Come on, my brother, you need rest and some time to process all of this.”  Blood gets up and steps back so that Tara can slide out of the booth.  “I’ll show you to a spare bunk for the night.  If you don’t like the quarters, you can make other arrangements in the morning.”

The Egyptian vampire watches in open mouthed astonishment as Wrath rises from his side of the booth, with the lovely black-haired, blue eyed female in his arms.  She is giggling as the Fenrir-Targa tosses her over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry and then slaps her ass hard enough to seriously injure a human female.  He’s rubbing her abundant backside lovingly, all the while threatening dire punishments when they get home. The demi-god turns and smiles at his fellow enforcer, “Kazar, I’m damn glad you made it home, my brother.  I never did buy the UCI’s story that some old conjurer was able to kill you.  I am pleased to learn that I was correct.” 

Before Kazar can respond, the demi-god flashes out of the MC with his obviously happy female over his shoulder.  “Wrath mated a human?” he asks, with more than just a hint of disbelief.

“Not human,” Tara says with a grin.  “But the tale of Gin and Wrath is one long ass story for another time.”  She playfully loops her arm through his and says; “You look exhausted, my brother, and I have a hot new submissive that I am supposed to meet for contract negotiations in about fifteen minutes.”

Kazar laughs.  “Ah, still beating the asses of all the pretty-boy supes round Tulsa?”

“Oh, my brother, you don’t know the half of it,” Tara assures him with a wicked grin.  “Roi and Anton built a new club here in town.  Their rep is so good, we have Doms and subs from all around the world and the various realms comin’ to town, eager to play at Raven’s Keep.”  She leads her friend toward the barracks chatting animatedly about her new potential submissive who is a Fae warrior and new to the human realm.

Blood simply sits back down at the booth and shakes his head while thumping softly on the table top in time to the low music coming from the juke box.  He doesn’t look up when Tank and Rage join him at the table.  “What do you think Trinity meant about Callie’s destiny?” Rage asks quietly.

“I’m not sure,” Blood admits.  “There is something different about that girl or she would not have survived that attack without turning vamp.”  The ancient guardian looks contemplative when he says; “She’s a part of a much bigger picture that involves the MC somehow or Kazar would not be so invested in her.”  He exhales slowly as though frustrated by his lack of knowledge.  “Honestly, I have no idea what makes her special.” 

He picks up Tara’s bottle and pours a bit of her fine whisky in the abandoned tumbler to sip on it thoughtfully.  The leader of the Twin Ravens looks over to meet the gaze of two of his closest confidants to say; “I’ll tell you something, I’m pretty sure all of this recent crazy activity in the mortal realm and so many of our brethren finding their mates signals something big is coming.”  Draining the glass, he adds; “I just hope we are ready for whatever is going down.”

“How did the trip to OKC go?” Rage asks, all business.

“Hmmmm, I think things are about to heat up down there.  Wick is gathering his forces to go in and get his human female.  Sabre and Rhone are down there watching Strife’s rogues at that MC since Trinity has taken to watching over Callie.” 

Tank is thoughtful when he asks; “Since Kazar is back to watch over his mortal, maybe Trinity can go back to watching Strife’s minions?”  All three men nod, it’s a good plan.  “I just get sick every time I think of human women being at the mercy of those bastards.”  His companions nod.  They are all sickened at that prospect.

“We still don’t have proof Armand Glaceau is keeping ‘em as blood whores.  We ain’t been able to get inside their MC,” Rage drawls in a voice heavily laden with disgust.  “Long as we operate under the UCI’s umbrella…” he lets the thought trail off, but all three of these men know those days are numbered because something, or more correctly, someone is truly rotten at the heart of the United Council of Immortals.  All three males bristle at the unspoken reminder of the way the UCI had forbidden Twin Ravens to intervene in the situation in Oklahoma City.  Strife’s minions, led by Armand Glaceau in service to the goddess Eris, or Strife as she is commonly known, have been breaking UCI rules left and right. Yet the Council refuses to allow the Twin Ravens to actively intervene.  The entire MC of supernatural enforcers are fed up with being leashed by the UCI.

Tank reaches for the bottle and pours a bit of the whisky into his own tumbler and adds a splash to the glass in Rage’s hand as well.  The three males sit there and thoughtfully sip on Tara’s fine, magickally enhanced hooch, while they each contemplated all the recent happenings in the MC.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Outside, hidden amid the darkness that has loomed just beyond the protective magick of the Twin Ravens MC since All Hallows Eve, a mysterious female watches the MC.  She has been watching them for months, because her mentor assures her the time is nearly upon them.  Time for her to complete her ultimate duty, then finally be free of the oath she made to Pnév̱ma tou Patéra – the Father of all spirits, when she was but a wide-eyed girl, awed by his power and plan for the future.  

Morrígan le Fey knows that tomorrow she must begin putting her part of the plan into motion.  She must plant herself more firmly into the life of young Callie, and decide how best to convince Kazar, and the rest of the enforcers of the Twin Ravens MC, that she is not the enemy.  Her rep as a death mongering war goddess, or dark witch, depending on which set of lies one chooses to believe, will not make this task easy.  She rattles the three highly polished stones in her hands and wonders who the third stone represents.  Not for the first time, since foolishly swearing to help with Patéra’s grand scheme, Morrígan wishes she had more information to go on. 

A soft sigh escapes her lips and she tucks the stones into the pocket of her fighting leathers.   No one ever said working for the gods was an easy task.  But damn it all, Morrígan is tired of being expected to accomplish impossible feats with vague and sometimes misleading information.  “Every fucking thing has to be a riddle with the gods.”  Shaking her head, the ancient Celt returns her thoughts to the young woman in her charge. 

“Looks like all I gotta do is convince the human, who only discovered the world of supernaturals on the night one of them attacked her, that I can be trusted. Then enlist the help of an entire band of Immortal enforcers to fulfil some vague prophecy without revealing the details of said prophecy.”  She chuckles dryly and pats the stones in her pocket.  “Yeah, that should be easy as pie,” she grunts sardonically into the oppressive darkness before flashing back to Asgard so that she can report to her mentors.