heavily clad humans, riding double. All six snowmobiles pulled sleds with hard covers, likely full of supplies and luggage.
Eli stepped in front of me and leveled his toy at them. He didn’t know the two vamps in front and so he carried an Uzi capable of taking them all down in a hail of bullets. If it didn’t jam and misfire. Miniguns were apt to jam at the worst possible moment, but Eli carried plenty of weapons if that happened. He was clearly worried about what we couldn’t see on the sleds. “The sealed trailer with windows is a Cat Cutter,” he murmured. “Cutters are sleds that carry people. Could be an ambush from Shaddock or factions from his people.”
Twelve humans. Enough for four vamps. They had two vamps and a cutter. We had Shiloh, so who was the fourth vamp?
Blowing a miasma of exhaust, the vehicles stopped in a ring around the front entrance and the engines went dead; a waiting silence fell on the property. One of the sleds creaked, the sound sharp after the roar. The two vamps turned and faced the sleds, standing at military parade rest, their positions managing to keep Eli and me in their vision.
On the biggest sled, the one I assumed was the cutter, a bird-wing-type hatch rose into the air. Eli didn’t tense, so much as flow, toward the movement. The two unknown vamps flowed too, and drew weapons, pointed at us.
Ambush, Beast thought.
From the cutter, long legs moved like spider legs, feet sinking into the deep snow. Lincoln Shaddock himself emerged. Before anyone started bleeding, I called out, “The Dark Queen welcomes Lincoln Shaddock, Master of the City of Asheville. We didn’t know you were coming, my friend.”
Eli didn’t relax, indicating that he wasn’t convinced Shaddock’s appearance was a good thing.
“Jane Yellowrock,” Shaddock called back. His voice was rough and soothing at once, just as I remembered it. “Or should I say, my Dark Queen.” He bowed deeply before he took the front steps two at a time, leaving his human bodyguards and the new vamps behind.
I caught his scent and put out a hand to welcome him.
“Let me see you, girl,” he said. He took my hand and turned me around in an unexpected dance twirl, scrutinizing me. “I assumed they were joshing me about you being half-cat, but darned if they weren’t speaking the truth. I wouldn’t have recognized you without them yaller eyes,” he said in his hill-country vernacular. “I like the look.”
The vamps and Eli stood down at the dance move, their weapons smoothly disappearing. Even if I had never seen a vampire before I’d have known what they were. More important, both wore silver studs in their ears. Vamps were allergic to silver. The silver was a calling card that said the two were very, very powerful and a lot older than I had thought. They might not have a city of their own right now, but they were masters. Strangers.
Dangerous, Beast thought. “You brought food,” I said. “I can tell by the smoked-meat scent on the air. With this crowd, we’ll need it.” Shaddock owned and was the chief chef in his own BBQ joint in downtown Asheville. Best smoked food ever. I gestured to the door and continued politely. “The forecast suggests we’ll have a few days before the snow starts again, but getting to the store will be difficult.”
Shaddock gave me another bow, very slight, something that might have been common in his human time, and stepped to the side. I entered the inn and he followed. “You’ve learned Mithran manners,” he said more softly. “Can’t say it makes me happy, but if they avert another war, it’ll be worth hearing you talk like one of us. And yes. We have a whole cow, half of it ready to serve. The other half is raw for any weres or skinwalker beasts—” He stopped and stared at my teeth as his people began to bring in supplies and his vamp security pair filed in behind and began to scope out the place. “You eat cooked or raw in that form? And how the blue blazes do you talk with fangs?”
“Cooked. And the same way you do when your fangs snap down, you old fanghead,” I grumbled.
“There’s the Jane Yellowrock I know,” he said with a human-style grin. “Rude, crude, and delightfully socially unacceptable. Makes me feel right at home.” He turned and called, “Kojo. Thema. Come and greet your queen.”