Shattered Pentacle

They spent the next ten minutes in one of the most awkward, unpleasant positions Lyra had ever experienced. While Reagan worked, the others shuffled nervously around in a circle just beside her, while Volita and Rainbow watched.

The Kindred didn't move like people do—no subtle shifting while they breathed or adjusting to be more comfortable in their seat. They didn't have to lean against the wall for support, or otherwise seemed to tire the way living people did. They didn't even blink, unless Lyra or one of the others looked at them for a little too long.

The one who called herself Rainbow chose Lyra as the one to watch, while Volita kept her attention firmly on Capper. She even talked to him, though Lyra couldn't explain how she could. There were other powers than the ones she knew, bloodier and stranger—yet the outcome was ultimately the same.

“You aren't what you appear,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. Only Lyra's cat-senses let her hear and understand it. “You don't behave the way animals should. Even familiars can't resist.”

Capper rested atop one of the vampire's fine tables, sitting with all the elegance and poise of an ancient king. “None you have met, daughter of Cain. Lesser breeds are they, descended from feeble stock.”

“You probably shouldn't talk to her like that,” Lyra thought to him, tensing. Even if she still didn't understand what a Seneschal was, she knew it was important. The vampires treated her almost like royalty. Capper was no more obedient to Lyra than the vampire.

Volita smiled down at Capper, expression an unreadable mask. “Now that is an accent. Kiengi?”

The cat's eyes widened. His ears twitched, and he held deliberately still. “Its kin. There was a colony between those rivers, once. Barbarians.”

“And they call us unnatural.” The vampire laughed, covering her mouth with one pale hand. Her sharp canines were still briefly visible poking out from inside. “But what you've done is perfectly acceptable. How many thousands of cats does it take to cross the millennia?”

Capper shrugged noncommittally. “Our arrangements are mutually beneficial.”

Rainbow leaned between them, blocking Lyra's view of the conversation. She folded both arms, grinning toothily. Unlike her charge, she didn't seem the least bit concerned for looking human. “You can understand them, can't you? The cat sounds.”

She mewed back—not any specific word, but loud enough that it broke Capper's calm. The cat laughed, as close to it as any feline could.

“Yes.” The Guardians of the Veil would be furious if they ever found out how much information had passed between Kindred and Awakened in this diplomatic contact. Even keeping it vague, the vampires would walk away from all this knowing more than they had before. “Not just cats, but my familiar's preferences rubbed off on me. They're my favorites.”

“So, you're kinda like Volita,” Rainbow said. The vampire seemed like she was just making polite conversation. But for all Lyra knew, it could be layers of threats and politics, all deeper than she understood. “Before she had to take her job, I mean. She spent most of her time with animals. Rehabilitated them, got them new homes.”

“That seems nice of her. Not really what I expect from vampires, but... I haven't met that many before. I guess I don't know what your lives are like.” How much longer could Lyra keep calm around them? These were the same monsters who enslaved her, who fed on countless others. Without Bonnie, she'd be another of their nameless casualties.

“No, you don't,” Rainbow agreed. “At least you're honest about it. Most mortals who find out about us instantly assume they know everything there is to know. We're disgusting parasites, monsters who never create anything or help anyone. Only ever think of ourselves.”

She was so close—close enough that she could probably feel the warmth from Lyra's skin. That close, the vampire's unnatural scent was strong. Not rot, exactly, but a kind of sweetness found nowhere in nature.

Before she found an answer, another voice called from behind, rescuing her. “Door's open! Stay close, and move quickly. I don't know how long it will last with, uh, our guests. Haven't done a lot of magic around them before.”

Lyra turned, darting away from Rainbow and over to the portal. Her magical senses outlined it for her before she was even close enough to see it—a complex knot of space and fate magic set into the wall like a door. Except instead of leading to another room, this one went across the city, into an underground ruin buried deep in an old mine. Bright spotlights radiated out from within, overpowering Volita's gentle, tasteful illumination.

The ruin seemed deserted from this view, a mostly-empty stone space left abandoned except for generators, empty sleeping spots, and the camp kitchen. The door wasn't visible from this view, nor were any of the defenses.

Rainbow whistled loudly, stopping just beside the portal. “It's real. Doesn't feel like it should be.” She reached towards the open space, then pulled her hand back, grinning wider. “You only wish I was that stupid. You can go first. Most of you.” She rested one hand on Lyra's shoulder, much too fast to react.

As before, it felt more like having a steel vice wrapped around her skin—cold, unyielding. Rainbow didn't squeeze, but she could have.

“Except for her. Cat witch can go through with us, after you're all through.”

“Cat witch,” Lyra repeated, annoyed. “I do a lot more than that. They're just a fun animal.”

“Whatever.”

Reagan gestured for the others to hurry. “That's fine. We're all friends here, right? We do you a favor, you do us a favor. It's the start of a productive, friendly relationship.”

“Of course,” Volita said, as flat and emotionless as ever. “Even friends can be wise. We do not live so long without being careful. So go on first. We will follow when we can see it's safe.”

“It is,” Reagan said. She was the first to step across, with no more fanfare than her hair slightly rustled by the breeze. Her voice came just as clearly through the portal on the other side. “See? Single file, I only made it one person wide.”

That was what they did, starting with her friends. Lyra felt a rustle against her ankle. She returned the friendly gesture against Capper's side. If this was the moment they tried to kidnap her... “Spirit world? Think we could step sideways before she breaks my neck?”

The cat replied with his usual annoyance. “If you did not trust these Kindred, you should not have bargained with them. What do you hold over them that they would give what they promised? They have what they want.”

She kept her eyes up, focused on the one holding her. Having Rainbow this close was a little like speaking to a big cat at the zoo—the animal was fascinated by her novelty, but might turn hostile the instant she showed even a hint of weakness. “Honor? I thought vampires were strict about promises. They made one, now they have to keep it.”

She felt the cat's exasperation through the link as strongly as any individual words. “Only the fae are bound by their oaths. The Kindred may choose to honor them, or break them at their whim. What matters is not whether they truly possess honor—but whether the other members of the Camarilla believe they do. Their honor is as rotten and lifeless as their bodies.”

“And now it's my turn,” Rainbow said. In all that time, her friends had made their way through the opening one by one. She nudged Lyra closer, then released her. “You go right behind me, then Volita. Nice and slowly now. We wouldn't want to ruin our new friendship.”

She let go, then sprang forward through the portal. The magic worked for her as well as it had for the human passengers—she appeared on the other side, then looked up. “Bigger than it looks. We must be deep underground. How far away did that magic take us, anyway?”

No one answered her. Lyra kept one eye on the vampire behind her, and stepped through. Capper was only a few steps behind, and Volita not much further.

Once there, Lyra's sense for living things quickly adjusted. Instead of a smattering of animals, she felt the mine.

It was empty, or nearly so. The expedition had evacuated in a hurry, leaving food still steaming on their tables and personal belongings scattered everywhere. She felt a few lingering near the entrance—the Arrow, standing at their posts.

None were watching their backs for this part of the exchange. The Free Council had none of its own soldiers around either—it was only Akiko, and Tempest.

The two watched from near the huge magical door. Akiko rocked nervously back and forth in place. Tempest remained calm, unreadable from that distance. She still had the heavy collar on her neck, that was the important thing. She didn't have a supernatural dagger to Akiko's back.

In such a magical place, Lyra could feel the touch of a dozen desperate spells—some active, some remnants of the various attempts to get the door open.

Lyra moved to the side, getting as much distance from the vampires as she could. Every foot was another second she had to react to whatever attack might come her way.

“Fascinating. This structure was under our feet all this time?” Volita stopped beside the wall, breaking off a chunk of rock in two fingers. “Limestone, with chunks of felspar.”

Akiko turned, tucking a little notebook under one arm. She radiated supernal power, even more than usual. What kind of spells was she running? “You must be the, uh... locksmith. Here with the resources to get our door open.”

Volita nodded. “That's the agreement we made, yes. Your friends were effective at tracking down my missing contact and rescuing her. Let no Kindred whisper that I do not repay my debts.”

Akiko nodded nervously. She retreated with every forward step that Volita took, wringing both hands together. She looks terrified. If Lyra could see it, that meant the vampires could too. “I've tried a lot of... different ways to get it open. But the door seems keyed for concentrated life essence—the kind that only comes from someone's lifeblood. But all my research suggests the vitae of a powerful Kindred would work just as well. A vegan substitute for murder.”

Rainbow laughed, so loudly her voice boomed through the ruin. “Vegan. You know what Kindred are, right?”

Her friends weren't standing still. They followed Rainbow and Volita to the door, though all kept their distance. No one wanted to be within reach of something so powerful. We're worn out from a trip through the Underworld. We shouldn't be doing this right now.

She felt Capper's reply before she even finished thinking the words. “You were the one who thought this was a good idea, bringing the Kindred directly here. At least with a drive the Pentacle would have some time to prepare.”

“What would you have done?”

Akiko and Volita reached the door. That left her friend with nowhere to flee, both vampires within striking distance.

The cat gave one of his usual, characteristic shrugs. “The life of one mage was not always so great a price to ask. I would not have involved the Kindred at all. They may take far more from you tonight.”

Another thought pressed against her mind. This one it took her that first twenty seconds after arriving to notice. Where was Bonnie? It wasn't like her girlfriend to just abandon something important and dangerous, even if she hated everything about the plan.

She couldn't see her bright hair anywhere in the ruin.

“It's not a simple process of just... expelling it,” Volita said. She dropped to one knee in front of the door, running her fingers over the mechanism. There was a channel there, cut into the stone. “I will give you all the blood you require. I will need a few minutes, but not much longer. Let me work.”