To his advantage, he still had certain attributes that were extra human. Not like comic book heroes. More like human plus. No one knew if these benefits would fade away over time, but, for now, he was a little stronger, a little faster, and could see in the dark a little better than most people. All traits very useful for vampire hunting.
It just so happened that he found his assigned base of operations in prime territory that qualified as a vampire magnet on all counts. In Edinburgh's Old Town there was a large pedestrian population that came out at night and it was built on top of an underground system that was not utilized to any extent that would interfere with the needs of vampire. All this was literally in sight of his office - five minutes' walk away.
In a darkly poetic way, it was fitting that vampire would thrive in Edinburgh's underground city which consisted of a system of tunneled streets with walls so close you could almost stand in the middle and touch both sides. The caverns and cells that faced the streets cut into the much softer sandstone under the rock that the above-ground Old Town was built upon. It was a place with grisly history where thousands of hapless poor lived in darkness, packed together without sanitation and with the vilest of criminals. The legend was that plague victims were not removed and buried or burned, but sealed in their cells.
Some of the underground "vaults" under the bridge were reportedly used during World War II air raids, but, even if that was true, no one had been back since.
Modern day Ghost Tours offered a shallow excursion into Mary King's Close - shallow because individuals didn't want to stay in the underground very long. Words like "creepy" were frequently used even by hard-core insensitives. That left a lot of maze for a vampire haven.
Baka had been a vampire long enough to know all about how they thought which was why he had been supremely valuable to The Order as "consultant". He knew that the days of the Samhuinn festival would be a gorge fest for vampire. The Royal Mile, just over the heads of vampire living in the Underground, would be crowded with visitors to the city, visitors intent on celebration and revelry, danger being the last thing on their minds. It would be a blessing to vampire in the original sense of the word's older cousin - bloodletting.
He finished his day, went to dinner alone, and slowly savored every bite of actual food. Afterward, driven by a heartfelt desire to do some good in the world, he pulled on a pair of cargo pants and equipped the dozen pockets with as many canisters as they would hold. He opened his backpack and stuffed it with two not-for-sale-on-any-market, rapid-fire dart pistols designed by The Order's own, genius inventor, Thelonius M. Monq. To that he added five revolving canisters for reloads, a thinsulate, a lighted helmet guaranteed to give fourteen hours of use in exchange for three AAA batteries, and six pairs of handcuffs.
When he put the handcuffs in side zipper pockets he wondered if he was being ambitious, prideful, or just plain stupid. It gave him pause, but, when weighed against the burden on his heart, his second thoughts didn't carry enough weight to stop him. Like many natural intuits, he ignored the foreboding of his own instinct and proceeded with the plan, foolish though it might be.
He descended the stairs to the main foyer wondering if, even partial redemption for a long life of misdeeds, was possible. The fact that he was not accountable for his infamous history should have given him some peace of absolution. But didn't. He said good evening to the doorman, threaded his arms into the backpack straps, and headed out into the night.
***
CHAPTER_2
After brunch, Kay and Katrina did hugs all around, loaded the car, and drove away from the Black Swan Vineyard villa where they had been guests for four days. They were supposed to rendezvous with an Order jet at Voltaire Unit, Presidio, San Francisco and catch a ride to Edinburgh. Kay had been persuaded to consult on a Berserker issue and, since it wasn't an active duty assignment, Katrina came along.
The young married couple had both been changed by the experience of her demon abduction. The feeling of not knowing whether or not they would ever see each other again was still raw and near the surface of shadow consciousness, so they didn't like to spend time apart if it could be helped.
Storm and Litha stood on the pea gravel drive and waved goodbye like an old married couple. They held hands and watched the teal blue Caddy until it went over the hill before going back inside. It was the only car at The Order's San Francisco hangar that Kay could fit in. At home in Houston, he had an expensive sports car that had been custom tricked out to accommodate his size, but only a few loaner cars came big enough for him to ride comfortably.
After the car disappeared from view, they closed the door and got as far as the two cordovan, leather sofas that faced each other in the great room, before they flopped down. The excursion into the new world of hosting house guests at the newly renovated and furnished villa had been a success.
It wasn't their first time to host. Litha's monks and Storm's parents had come for dinner and a tour. That was an evening Storm would never forget. The seven monks had put his education to the test and then proceeded to ask him a series of ethics questions with gray area circumstances. It wore Storm out. His comfort zone was on the black and white tiles, but, surprisingly, the monks were fun and the conversation was stimulating.
He thought that, between Litha's unique nature and unique nurture, it was no wonder she'd turned out to be so singularly special.
Storm's dad had a great time discussing vintner techniques with the monks who specialized in growing. His mom was crazy about Litha and they spent part of the time by themselves talking about various aspects of the house renovation. Storm knew his mom was biting her tongue to keep from asking how long until grandchildren and, really, he was surprised she'd been able to keep from asking.
"I want to clean up the kitchen, but I'm too tired to move." Litha opened one eye a slit so that she could gauge his reaction. She hoped the thinly disguised suggestion would prompt Storm to volunteer, even though they both knew it was her turn.
He grinned, black eyes sparking with just a touch of taunt. "Nice try though."
Screwing up her face and groaning, she dragged herself up off the couch and made drama of trudging toward the kitchen.
The spectacle made Storm grin even wider and his abs rippled with unvoiced laughter. He put his feet up on the heavy, square coffee table, and slouched down into the couch smiling to himself, feeling self-satisfied, and more than a little proud of the vineyard, the villa, and his wife. So this is dreams coming true.
He had hunkered down, nested, and loved every damn thing about it. When the thought, "It's too good," wandered across his mind, he could have slapped himself. In his experience "too good" is a state of being that never lasts long. It's usually even shorter if the gods think you're questioning good fortune. Don't they just love to f**k with that?
He snapped out of the fatalistic musings when he heard a knock on the door. Assuming Kay had forgotten something, he opened the door saying, "What did you...?"
It only took a second for Storm to string together everything Litha had told him about Deliverance, add that to the conspicuous family resemblance, - She got her looks from a sex demon, - and come to the conclusion that the caller was his new father-in-law, in the flesh, and standing on their porch. He steadily held the visitor's gaze and, without taking his eyes away, yelled loud enough to be heard in the kitchen.
"Litha! There's a demon here to see you!"
There was no question that she heard him because of the volume of response. Shiny, new copper bottom pots make a lot of clanging noise when they land on something as hard as a new custom poured, concrete, kitchen counter or a slate floor.
Deliverance had been staring at Storm without blinking. He had to give the kid credit. Not so much as a muscle twitch or tiny tremor. He supposed she could have done worse. He let the corners of his mouth soften, but Storm read the humor in his eyes as smirking. And, maybe it was a male challenge ritual. For his own part of the ritual, Storm didn't show any sign of fear, but he didn't invite the demon inside either. At about the same height, they stood at eye level silently taking each other's measure.
Litha rushed past Storm right into the laughing embrace of the older, much older, male. Speaking of 'too good to be true', that pretty much summed up the demon's looks. Anybody, even a heterosexual man, had to admit that he was stunning.
Deliverance was visibly relieved that she was glad to see him. Still on the wide front porch, he swung her around like she was a little girl and she rewarded him with delighted giggles.