“Convocation, and yes,” Austin said.
He shook his head in disbelief. “I had to fight for the right to stay here. They decided I was too dangerous to keep trying to kick out.”
“That and we felt a little sorry for you,” one of the resident basajaunak said. “Come on. We have started preparing for a feast. I want to hear aboutHimthat has followed his star, and the stick builders who are now part of our family.”
The man snorted, putting his hands on his hips. To Austin he said, “I’m not agreeing to go with you, but I must say, I am curious about this story.”
John
Multiple fires blazedwithin the darkness. The ground had been cleared of forest life, leaving a heavily trod-on dirt floor. Austin Barazza’s—no, it was Steele now—people had hunted, and their game roasted on spits over the fires. The basajaunak had provided root vegetables, seeds, berries, and other natural bounties that could be found in the wilderness.
While all that had been collected and prepared, John had sat quietly and listened to Austin and Jessie’s incredible story. A Jane that inherited magic from a house? A phoenix and thunderbird on board? Basajaunak as kin? If he hadn’t been sitting amongst those creatures, had it all verified time andagain, and read the obvious truth within the Jane’s body language, he wouldn’t have believed it. Then again, he also wouldn’t have believed the power and might of Austin himself.
The alpha network, something John had never had any time for, apparently didn’t believe much of this. John could understand why. They wouldn’t want to come around, either. Austin said as much. To admit to the power amassed here, the alphas would realize they didn’t have enough to keep their perch at the top. It was an uphill battle Austin faced.
It didn’t seem to faze him. The cause was noble, if that part of their story could be believed. John wasn’t sure he did believe it or if he even cared. It all sounded like an awful big hassle.
A warning blared within him. Something was skulking up behind.
He’d moved away from the others after the story, wanting to sit on his own and reflect for a while.
“That’s a dangerous place to be without a very good reason,” he said, a growl lacing his words.
The presence kept coming but veered slightly to angle to John’s side. An old creature stepped in line with him, facing front but looking his way. He had a long face and loose jowls with blindingly white teeth. As John watched, the canines elongated.
“Vampire?” John asked, not seeing much of a threat.
“Tigress?” the vampire replied. He wore a strange little smile, like they shared a joke and he’d just told a punchline.
Was John the punchline?
He turned back. He decided he didn’t much care if he was.
The vampire took a sidestep closer. “I visited your camp. Pretty lonely. Do you get any callers?”
John’s brows pinched together. “What?”
The vampire nodded like that had been an acceptable answer. “Yes, I thought as much. You’d be much happier withus. The Irish woman says so. She’d tell you herself, but she’s busy drinking the poisonous brew. They’ll regret offering it to her. She’ll drink them dry. Phil knows—but don’t call him Phil. That’s a secret.” Placing a long, spindly finger to his lips, he said, “Shhhh.”
John was starting to feel mildly uncomfortable, not an easy feat. He’d mostly given up caring what people thought of him, what they said, how they acted—if someone wasn’t a direct threat, he ignored them. Something told him that wouldn’t be wise with this creature. He was a vampire, after all. They could be wily and unpredictable, and in this one’s case, fairly creepy and somewhatoff. It was probably the age. This one seemed old as dirt.
“I happened to notice your crochet kit,” the vampire said. He sidestepped closer still. “A little blue creature. I didn’t notice any doilies. You know, the doily is the Picasso of the crochet world. I’m working on creating the perfect one. My skill has backslid in recent months, what with the demands of hiker-killing flowers, but I won’t give up! One day I will master that doily, and then…” The creature’s smile grew. He held his hands near his chest, his long fingers dangling like some sort of vaudeville villain. “Colors!”
For the first time in maybe his entire life, John felt like picking up the rock he currently sat upon and scooting it away in wariness. There was a time for fighting, and a time to maybe slink away. This might be the latter.
A large shifter cut across the merriment. The gorilla, with alpha power and energy, and a beta title. It was one of many things in this “convocation” that John had a hard time reconciling.
“Oh, here comes the chief of four-leaf clover finding.” The vampire watched the shifter come closer. “He has an eagle eye. I can’t seem to top him. It’s like he’s been doing it all his life.”
The shifter hit the vampire with a hard stare, full of all that lethal power and energy. His body flared, a warning to get lost.
The vampire didn’t seem to notice.
“Broken Sue,” the vampire said pleasantly. “Or, as he’s known around the campfire, Suspicious Susan.”
The shifter’s frame tensed for just a moment, the equivalent of him rolling his eyes.
“Edgar, you’re needed by the alphas,” the shifter told the vampire.
