With Strength and Steel
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2012 by Silverwolf691

"Holy hell," I said softly under my breath as I turned the Sedan onto the two-mile long driveway, my keen eyes surveying the miniature castle nestled between huge manicured gardens and an overflowing lot of cars.

The dwelling, I refused to call it a house, was almost obscene. A boxy construction of dark stone and gold-painted woodwork that only looked good on old Victorian mansions, with bright light flooding from it's multiple huge windows that looked out onto foliage and statuary not native to this Realm. It was an architect and landscaper's nightmare. Made me wonder how she managed to do it.

"One of these days," Marcus said from the back seat, "I'll have to show you some pictures of her District home, although I'll have to make sure you haven't eaten first."

Two valets approached the car as soon as it stopped moving, their attire the standard slacks, shirt and blazer, all thankfully black. Stepping out, I left the keys in the ignition and accepted the ticket with a nod. Both men were human, though they didn't seem afraid of the strange creatures around them. Professional crew, then. I hoped I didn't have to kill any of them.

The man who climbed out of the back of the car looked nothing like the man I'd known for the past four years. Gone was the butler's suit, gray hair, wrinkles and kind old man presence. Gone was the easy-going, gentle nature that could sooth a frightened child. What stepped out would have sent that child running in terror.

Six plus feet of dark menace clothed in perfectly tailored black silk pants, black silk ruffled shirt and an ankle-length, Chinese jacket dyed blood red with a beautiful dragon gracing the back from collar to hem. It should have looked like a costume but it didn't, which made it all the more creepy.

His expression as I came to his side was cold and contemptuous, surveying the area before stepping aside for the door to be closed. We were holding up the growing line of arriving guests, though one slashing look back had people swallowing their tongues.

"Come," he said, his voice a clear, beautiful note that could draw in the unsuspecting, which was the point. Tonight, he was a predator. I took my place behind his right shoulder, hands on the sheathed sixteen-inch blades the hung from a leather belt slung low on my hips, my face closed as I played my role as his bodyguard.

Two huge men in black tuxedos waited at the doors, collecting invitations from the guests as they passed. One was a Werewolf, the other a Demon, though it took a bit of concentration to pick their scents out.

"Invitation, sir?"

When Marcus ignored them, the Werewolf took a step towards him, though he hastily retreated as I moved between them and laid one of my daggers against his neck.

Pursuing him a few steps until he backed against the open door, I murmured, "My Master is not to be touched." He nodded, fighting his instincts to attack me, the weaker creature, never mind the fact that I could kill him first. "Good." I pulled an expensive piece of cardstock from my jacket pocket, showing him the name. Whoever Marcus was impersonating must have been important because the Werewolf's eyes widened and he quit fighting. Him backing down eased some of the tension I was harboring and I stepped away, replacing my weapon and straightening Talon's leather jacket, which I wore over my freshly blackened jumpsuit.

"Come," Marcus ordered, snapping his fingers. Since I couldn't suppress the snarl his order caused, I aimed it at the doorman, who flinched, before returning to my appointed position and following him inside.

The dwelling contained no more than a hundred people, not counting the servants, but it felt insanely crowded, the auras of the creatures pressing against me uncomfortably. Demonic auras mingled with the scattering of Vampires, both rubbing against the Were auras until one could almost see the sparks and all of it threatening to send me into a claustrophobic fit.

"Shh," Marcus urged, running a hand down my spine and siphoning a little Life Essence. It helped take the edge off, letting me focus on the task at hand. I nodded my head ever so slightly, resisting the urge to stretch my tense muscles and use some of the building energy within me. "It's time to split up," he said. His words would have been inaudible if not for the nifty little device implanted in my ear. I had a microphone implanted in my upper lip that would provide the same service to him. Later, I'd definitely have to ask him where he got the little tech pieces.

"I go down, you go up?" I asked as I scanned the area and people we were passing through, my words just as soft as his.

"Yes, my Pretty, go on. Your Master has other things to attend to." His voice was so painfully condescending I was glad he had already begun ascending the stairs so I didn't ruin our cover and snap something unbecoming of a pet. I just ducked my head, hiding behind the strands of hair the had managed to escape my French braid.

I was worried for a moment as I walked away that we'd drawn unwanted attention, but I should have known better. The rich and important don't pay attention to anyone's underlings unless they wanted something and I wasn't even the same species as the other guests.

Figuring I could use some fresh air to calm myself, I headed towards a set of French doors open to the night and the overly-fragrant garden, gliding around and between people carefully. A few pairs of people wandered the stone paths, admiring the vegetation and talking quietly or feeding on the serving staff, though I saw a few somber-faced men carefully monitoring those partaking of the "meal". Guards, I was guessing.

Recognizing a fellow servant, they merely nodded as I passed, not paying me much mind. The three men in the garden were Demons, armed with a pistol in a shoulder holster and a short sword on their hips. Pretty wise considering the most a bullet would do to anyone here was knock them out for a minute or so and cause a horrific migraine, and I doubted they were packing silver bullets; the Were count was pretty low. Chopping off someone's head, however, worked well, no matter their race.

Passing from the brightly lit, manicured foliage to the slightly overgrown area around the back of the structure, I took a deep breath of clean, fresh air with a feeling of bliss. There was something wrong with the flowers set for show. Too bright, too fragrant. It was almost like the plants were being used to hide something.

Taking a few more breaths of clean air, I came back around the corner. As soon as I inhaled, my nose became useless, filled with the scents of the garden, making me dependant on my other senses to keep me safe. Good thing I wasn't lacking in other means of detection.

 
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