Love Game Chapter 5

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CHAPTER 5

Bash

BASH’S GUT CHURNED as he walked up to the place he’d called home for almost a decade of his life. He dreaded having to look Zina in the eye when he didn’t have any answers for her. His vampire was a ghost, and no one had seen or heard of a Kelly Santana. But none of that mattered to Zina. She was only interested in results… and revenge. But he needed to stall for time. He looked up at his childhood home.

On the outside, the prestigious house was the picture of affluence with its tall white columns, lush green yard, a white picket fence, and a sidewalk that stank of money. Zina even hired a gardener to trim the hedges. No passerby would guess at the unusual activities happening within.

Though today, on the day Grommey’s body had been released after a thorough autopsy, Zina halted her business in honor of her death.

He took a deep breath and opened the front door. Even after moving out, Zina never treated him as if he no longer had a home there. The first time he’d come back to visit and knocked on her door, she’d hit him with a wooden spoon for his impudence. Ever since, he strode on in.

“Z,” he called from the front hall, his voice bouncing off of the soaring ceilings and down to the kitchen. An eerie chill met his shoulders when the house remained still. “Zina,” he called again.

From nothing, Zina’s elegant frame emerged in the front entryway to greet him. Dressed in a regal black dress that swept the floor, she made her way over and pulled him into a hug.

“Bash. It’s good to see you.” Even though her head met his diaphragm, her motherly arms had no trouble circling him. She smiled mournfully, both grateful that he was in her front entryway and sad for the reason he’d come.

He’d known Zina since he was found on the street when he was ten. She’d taken him in, no questions asked, and fed him until he met up with Vega and went on his own path. The mage in front of him had unknowingly become the mother he’d lost when he was five.

“I’m sorry about Grommey,” he said.

Zina dabbed the corner of her dark brown eyes and nodded. The tan, freckled skin underneath was red and raw from wiping away countless tears, but her voice still held its same regal tenor. “Thank you. I know she meant a lot to you too.”

Zina had always held out the hope that they’d end up together. When they broke up, she’d spent months trying to get them into the same room again, but he remained firm. They couldn’t be together with Sol Dust between them.

“That was a long time ago.”

Zina took a sobering breath, nodding slightly. “I don’t mean to have you standing here, come in. Would you like anything? I have a pot of stew on the stove. I know it was your favorite.”

As if on cue, the scent of slow cooked beef, carrots and celery filled the entryway.

“You know I can’t say no to that,” Bash followed her to the back of the house to the kitchen, unable to shake the eerie echo of his shoes off of her polished wooden floors.

“Where is everyone?” He asked, looking at the starkly empty rooms as they passed. Zina’s house was usually filled at all times of the day. There was always a mage there to pimp their magic, a supernatural trying to experience it, or a city embed needing to wet his whistle. Walking past vacant rooms was unsettling.

“I haven’t been wanting too much for visitors,” Zina explained. “I gave my workers the week off. Most are in their rooms, some are in the city shopping, some are visiting their families.”

“Families?” The word jarred him. Zina took in orphans and runaways. He never thought anyone would want to go back.

“Death puts a lot of things in perspective. For some, they’ve realized some family squabbles aren’t so big they can’t be overcome.” He took a seat at the kitchen island. She looked ready to plop down beside him in exhaustion, but instead, she pattered over to her stove.

“And, you? How are you faring?”

“Over the years having to feel the loss of one of our own becomes harder and harder to take. It’s weaker for you since you’re half-mage. But it takes a lot out of you.”

He wasn’t a mage at all, but he knew better than to argue the point with Zina. Ever since he showed up at her doorstep, she’d been calling him a half-mage and every time, he’d tell her both of his parents were human to the bone. She ignored him.

“You know the rules,” she said with a pointed look as she looped an apron around her and checked her pots.

Bash removed his black blazer, draping it over a chair at the center island, rolled up his sleeves and washed his hands.

“Here.” She offered him a towel when the rush of the faucet turned off. He dried his hands quickly. “I have bread on its second rise. Check it for me.”

No matter how much time passed or how much power he amassed, Zina always managed to make him feel as though he never left. In Zina’s house, when chores needed to be done, the first able body around attended to them. He could make a grown man cry with a look, but Zina never flinched.

But he guessed that was the power of a Prominent, even though Zina would rather not be called a one at all. She’d rather pimp magic than protect it as the other four Prominents did.

Prominents were the oldest and most powerful mages in existence. It’d been said the foremages sent them to safeguard all of magekind. They sure had enough power to. But Zina never bought into the doctrine and neither did he. They were to be respected, of course, but he never revered them like many did.

Glancing in her proofing drawer, he salivated at the thought of fresh bread with his meal. He would have to come to Zina’s more often. Living alone made for an excellent takeout lifestyle, but nothing matched the smell of a home cooked meal.

“They’re done,” he reported after he poked one lump of dough.

“Can you put them on the counter near the stove for me?”

He placed the tray filled with plump dinner rolls next to Zina, backed away and watched her work. Zina had never told him her true age, but if he had to guess based on the stories he’d heard, she was nearing 200. Although, to look at her work a long wooden spoon into an even larger pot and her nearly blemish free face, she’d shown no sign of aging past fifty.

“You haven’t stopped by in a while. Or are our visits relegated to weddings and funerals now?” She made conversation when he’d sat at her counter and watched her place the rolls into the oven. She missed his guilty expression.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Tracking down the mage who killed my girl, I hope. Or do I have to go after Sunder myself?”

“That’s why I’m here.”

She twisted on her flat sandals to face him. Her gaze turned sharp after catching the reluctance in his voice.

“I’m asking you to stand down. Right now, things are complicated.” He couldn’t look Zina fully in the eye without blinking, as if a fan was blasting air on his pupils. A deep scowl wrinkled the corners of her mouth as she turned back to her stove and jammed the wooden spoon through the stew.

“Don’t you do that to me, Bash. You’ve been sitting at my table before your willy could get hard on its own. The last thing I need is for you to sit in my kitchen and treat me like a fool. They found two perfectly healthy Order mages dead no wounds, pale eyes, and ashen skin. That means they were killed by magic. Seeing as they were found on Sunder’s side of town, any fool can put two and two together.”

Zina didn’t turn around to face him, but the intent in her voice was clear. She was not happy that justice hadn’t been served, and it’d been nearly a week.

“You’ll have your recompense, but not from them. Sunder didn’t do it.”

Zina looked seconds away from kicking him out of her house.

“Sol Dust is back.”

Zina made a clicking sound with her teeth. “Are you certain?”

“Grommey had a used bag of it under her body at the crime scene. I took it before the humans could get to it. Chief found another on the heiress.”

Understanding flashed in her face, but the way she deflated and fell back to lean against the counter near the stove made it look as if someone let the air out of a balloon. “I thought we took care of this.”

“I did. Years ago.” He wasn’t certain how it’d resurfaced or why. He’d personally ensured it. “Right after Vega was put in jail for life.”

Zina’s face pinched; she paused her stirring. “You haven’t been alerted yet?”

“Of what?”

Her teeth clacked again, and her gaze fell to the floor. This time it was her with the guilty look. A thick mucus built at the base of his throat. She hesitated as if debating her next words. “Vega is going to be released.”

He faltered when he leaned his chin against his knuckles. “Forgive me, I must’ve misheard you.”

“New evidence has surfaced. The council has scheduled a hearing to discuss it in a few weeks,” she whispered.

“What new evidence? The case was iron clad.” He’d made sure of it. His grip tightened against Zina’s stone countertops.

“Apparently, a video surfaced of someone in Vega’s storerooms before the Prominents could send over the guards. The tape shows him entering earlier that morning and rummaging exactly where the drugs were found. They’re implying whoever it was, planted the evidence that got him convicted,” Zina said apologetically.

That was fucking impossible. He’d made sure there was no surveillance in the warehouse that day and had his tech guru clear the surveillance footage of the street. But if something surfaced… The knot in his throat grew larger.

“Have you seen the tape? Do you know who it was?”

“I haven’t. They’re still checking its authenticity. But from what I’ve heard, you can’t see the person. The coincidence casts doubt.” She turned back to her stew and gave it a gentle stir.

Slightly relieved, his thoughts shifted back to the deaths.

Suddenly, the pieces that didn’t quite fit together earlier at fell neatly in place now. Vega was preparing for his release. This was his calling card. Build a slow frenzy, then flood the streets when the demand skyrocketed. He didn’t care who it hurt as long as he got paid and captured power. Now, he was at it again, building an empire underneath his nose.

“Then, it’s him. Vega’s softening the battlefield for his release.”

“What? Vega? Why?”

“I can think of a few reasons. Money for one. Rulership for another.”

“Bash, he considers you like a brother. He wouldn’t go after your position. Besides, the council won’t let him.”

“You don’t know him like I do. He craves power too much.” So much so, he’d kill innocent mages to get it. That had been his former mentor’s downfall. He hungered for power, and when he tasted it, he only wanted more. But more was never enough. Bash needed to figure out how to keep him in jail and keep a tight fist around this before anyone else died. “He deserves to be in jail, Z. I can’t let him kill another mage.”

Zina nodded; her eyes filled with pride. “You turned out much better than he did. I’m glad it was you who claimed rulership after he went away.”

“You know better than anyone I’d rather not have.”

“Maybe that’s why you’re so good at it. You don’t crave the power it gives you. You’re right. Vega let rulership consume him. He had all the potential in the world…”

Zina trailed off, but the hurt in her eyes that she may have played a part in how Vega turned out devour her. Vega was no more Zina’s fault than his own. They’d indulged him. Encouraged him too much. Made him too powerful. He was their greatest achievement and their deepest regret.

“Vega lost his way.” He tried to dole out the best comfort he had to offer. He knew Vega would never find his way back.

“If you’re right, then he’s killing my girls,” Zina frowned, lines across her lips deepened into wrinkles.

“He’s not the only one. With him on the inside, he’s found a new distributor and someone is selling it.”

“Do you know who that might be?”

“I only have a single lead. Our city’s newest visitor.”

“The vampire?”

He nodded. “Have you heard anything?”

Zina shrugged and checked her bread through the glass. “No one’s seen her for weeks. I assumed she left.”

“She did, but I saw her come back into town. No one has seen her since.”

“I’m not surprised. She keeps a low profile and doesn’t make any waves as far as anyone can tell. Mickey said he’d seen her down in his club some Thursdays with Rooney’s daughter, but she never made any trouble.”

“Rooney has a daughter?”

“Yeah, the non-magical. She took her mother’s name though. Santana. I don’t remember her name. Kelsey, Kasey…”

“Kelly?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

Another puzzle piece floated from the air and fit itself into the puzzle in front of him. They couldn’t find a mage named Kelly Santana because there wasn’t one.

“Why? Do you think she’s the one dealing?” Zina asked.

“No, but the vampire might be. Do you know what she’s in town for?”

“According to Rooney, the girl’s here for school.”

Danica said as much when he questioned her on the plane but hearing it again didn’t make the thought of a vampire attending a human school less preposterous.

“Do you buy it?” she asked.

No, he didn’t buy it. No one was certain why a vampire with no coven showed up in town a few months ago. If she was on Vega’s payroll, it made sense to use a non-magical as her way into the mage community. His molars clenched.

And here he thought she nagged at him because for a vampire she’d looked nothing like the hard-faced coven that used to live on the outskirts of town. They all looked half-dead, with sunken eyes, ghostly pale skin, and an unsettling eeriness. Danica was far from that. People would flock to her like a moth to a flame.

Behind her thousand-dollar sunglasses and designer purse, everything about her was fucking stunning. With a clear complexion, a delicateness he wanted to savor, the glow of the sun shining off her midnight black hair was…

That’s it. He raked a hand over his face. How could he let himself be dazzled into stupidity?

Danica was unlike any of the vampires he’d encountered because vampires were night walkers and she’d rode an airplane with him during the day. Only magic could make a vampire walk in the sun.

“Z, do you know a mage who can make a vampire walk in the sun?”

Zina whipped around in alarm, splattering stew from her spoon onto the floor. “There are no day-walking vampires anymore. It’s against the Blood Oath.”

“I think someone’s found a way around it.”

“That girl going to school with Rooney’s daughter is a day walker?” Her eyebrows collapsed together.

“I’ve seen it. I hadn’t realized it until now, but on the plane back home, I saw her under the sun.”

Zina swore. “I need to call the Prominents.”

“Wait on that,” Bash requested, then pulled out his phone to text Lix. Lix had been looking for a night crawler. If Danica only took classes during the day, they’d never cross paths. It also explained her infrequent sightings. No one looked for a vampire in broad daylight.

Our vampire’s a day walker.

A moment later, the phone in his hands rang. He picked up before it could ring a second time. “Go,” he said to Lix.

Lix grunted, then coughed as if his words became stuck in his throat. “I think I misread that. She’s what?”

“She can walk in the sun.”

“How?”

“I’ll add that to the list of things to ask her once we have her. I have a new name. Rooney Shaw. Find him, you’ll find the girl.”

“What does Rooney have to do with anything?”

“His daughter knows her.”

“He has a daughter?”

“Yes, a non-magical.”

“What does a non-magical want with a vampire? Never mind. I’ll alert the team we’ll have an address in a few minutes.”

“Good. Have the team ready to hold for my orders.”

“Will do, boss.”

He disconnected his call as Zina pulled the dinner rolls out of the oven to cool. Not a second later, his phone beeped with a singular message.

We found her. Holding for your orders.

“Bash?” Zina asked with a worried glance when he stared at the phone for a second too long.

“They found my vampire.”

“So quickly?”

He met her amazed gaze with a slight smile. “I only work with the best.”

“Then you’ll be taking this to go,” Zina’s magic scattered up her arm and a lidded glass container filled with stew appeared in her hand. She peeled off a hot dinner roll and wrapped it in tinfoil before shoving it in his hands as he raced out of the door.

Author’s Note: What do you think about morally grey characters? Bash is definitely turning out to be one of them.