So I realize it's a little shifty the way the chapter break went. It's intentional, of course, to encourage the reader to forgo the desire to call it a night or put the book down and fall into that "one more chapter" pit. Mercifully, I try to keep the chapters shorter when I do that. But out of kindness, I've included the last few lines of Chapter XV

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The doorknob turned and Merula came through. “What’s going on in…” she set eyes on Caninus and stopped.

“Shit,” the vampire said.

Chapter XVI

When a vampire says shit, you sit up and wonder why. Which was what I was doing. Of course, when the witch says “Shit” too, then you really worry.

They eyed each other warily, and yet both of them kept me in the corner of their eyes. “Shit,” I agreed, staring between Merula and Caninus. “You know each other.”

Caninus ignored my revelation except for granting me a curt nod. His eyes focused cuttingly on Merula. “I thought we had an agreement, did we not?”

Merula flinched. “Yes,” she replied softly at length, meeting his eyes but masking her fear poorly. “She needed help, and…” Merula glanced at me. “I stayed to take her to the hospital, then the police wanted a statement…” a smiled quirked out of her lips. “After that, it was her force of personality, really. She’s just as harsh as you and just as scathingly persuasive.”

“What the fuck?” was all I said for a long moment. A hypothesis was forming in my mind, but I didn’t dare give voice to it—hardly even dared think it.

Caninus held up a hand, stalling Merula when she began to explain. “Lucifel,” he started instead, in as calm a voice as he could without betraying all of his hesitancy. “You wondered why I appeared unsurprised by your relation of the attack on you?” He glanced at the witch and sighed. “I hired her to keep an eye on you and keep you safe.” My mind reeled at the thought, not wanting to bother with it.

“He was there. Caninus killed five other assassins that night we couldn’t have. Lucifel…he saved your life.”

“No,” I protested weakly, praying it was a sick joke. I wasn’t sure why, but it rankled—another thing I owed to this vampire, another convincing reason to trust the guy who was willing to snap Alayna’s neck. “Why in the hell…”

“Why would anyone? They were going to kill you, Lucifel. A witch was a necessity, really. The bullets whizzing everywhere were dangerous enough, but I suspected I could have some difficulty finding the assassins—all of them, I mean. And high-powered bullets like those will explode on impact. Not much flesh left, even for vampires.”

He was starting to babble, but I didn’t care. “Antoinette told you to,” I accused. “You did this because she told you. So you could gain my trust before you give me to her, or so you can force me into working for you unwillingly.”

“No,” he protested, his face betraying his disgust. “She didn’t tell me to. Trust me, Lucifel—“

‘That’s exactly the problem!” I snapped, bordering on hysteria. “I can’t trust you. Your master is out to kill me!”

A steady stream of Latin spewed from his mouth, thick with what I was sure were vulgarities. My Latin was never very polished, but I couldn’t catch one word in five. “Tell me how I am supposed to explain this, Lucifel!” He shouted, angry Latin giving way to something I could understand. “I tried not telling you, but that was a shitty plan from the start. I tried explaining to you that I heard about it and wanted you safe—something anyone would do!—but it convinces you that I’m under orders from that bitch Antoinette. I try telling you that I did not tell Antoinette, and I am apparently just soliciting your trust. Damn it, Lucifel, is there no way you will see?” Beneath the fuming anger I caught a hint of a lost kid, forlorn and confused. But he was so angry that it washed everything else away in an instant. He was so angry, but I wasn’t sure if it was at himself, or me. He gave a growl of frustration and buried his head in his hands, trying to regain his composure.

“Caninus,” I stretched a hesitant hand to his hidden face. Instead of pulling his hands away, I just brushed a lock of his hair, allowing him to compose himself. Swallowing my pride, I said, “I jumped to conclusions. I’m sorry. For all I really know, your motives are pure. I just can’t trust anyone anymore.”

“I suppose that will have to be fair enough,” he said softly, his voice confirming that he had been controlling the urge to throw things rather than the urge to cry. My kind of guy…. “Antoinette would make me a threat to you if she could, if she ever puts all the pieces together. So you shouldn’t trust me unquestioningly. You’re wise not to trust me. But it doesn’t change the fact that I want you to. It just…rankles. Not only that you don’t want to trust me but that you shouldn’t.” He barked a bitter laugh. “Not that I would have a choice in the matter in any case.”

“Lucifel?” Merula interrupted hesitantly. “We need to go if we’re going to save them.” I wanted to stall her, send her outside the bathroom to let me comfort Caninus for a moment. It was so uncharacteristic, but I pitied him and knew I’d been harsh on him. My other hand reached out to caress his brow.

I shoved him backwards, violently, instead. His head fell against the door to the shower, but he managed to catch himself before he got further hurt.

“Manipulative son of a bitch!” I spat, ignoring Merula’s stare. Foyl was oddly calm.

“Thank you,” Caninus said, halting my tirade before it fully began. “I was angry. In trying to stifle that…anger…I lost control of my…manipulation.” The pauses worried me. I wanted to throw Merula and Foyl out, just to force the vampire to explain, but I feared what might happen in their absence.

“You should be thanking me for shoving you instead of shooting you,” I said instead.

He laughed—thankfully a normal laugh—as he picked himself up. He replied with warmth, “Hm. Well, that’s debatable, meus angelus, but I will forgive you since you have given me the same measure of grace?” His tone made it a question, so I nodded. “Wonderful,” he replied, opening the door. “Let’s go figure out how to save your uncle.” Merula stepped through eagerly, followed by Foyl. As I reached the doorway, though, Caninus stopped me for a moment. “Neither the time nor the place,” he commented softly, looking pointedly at our surroundings. “But we need to speak about a few things. You will save me a few moments later?”

I wanted to say no, but he was right. We had shit we needed to talk about. “Later,” I agreed. “If we get back tonight soon enough.”

“Thank you again,” he said simply, ushering me through the door as I wondered what the hell I was getting into.

*&*

If I’d thought I had no idea what I was getting into, it was a shallow description of the depths of my ignorance. “I can take Lucifel with me,” Caninus reasoned, “and the dragon can hold the way before us open. That part is easy enough, with Lucifel to anchor where we are going and Merula to anchor where we were. The real issue is what to do when we get there.”

“Save them, if they need it,” I supplied. “If they’re all alive and doing alright, then we’ll convince them to get out of there. If they come back to Kansas City, I can protect them better.”

“Which means no more of these inconvenient trips,” Merula agreed, rolling her eyes in annoyance. She wasn’t the only one who had to cancel or reschedule appointments that night—all of mine had needed to be moved. I had told the curious that it was “police business” and seemed to be an emergency. They accepted it, because they had no choice.
“Yes,” Foyl agreed. “But you’re forgetting something. When we bring them back to Kansas City, how are we supposed to bring them here?”

“What are you getting at?” I asked. “Can’t they use the Afterways too?”

All three of them shook their heads, but it was Caninus who explained. “Merula can because she’s a witch. You can because you’re a necromage. Foyl and I can because we are…well, a dragon familiar and a vampire. Your uncle and his children may be impressive, I’m sure. But they are not capable, I don’t think, of traveling through the Afterways safely.”

“And we can’t take one of their vehicles because it’s dangerous.” I thought about it for a moment. “Hey, Merula? You’re the focus on this end, right? But do you have to stay here?”

“Not really,” she replied hesitantly. “I mean, it’s just to focus Caninus and Foyl on where to go when they try to come back.”

“So if you went home, they could still find you?” She nodded again. “So…what if you rented a car and headed for Wichita?”
“It’s a three hour drive,” she cautioned me. “I don’t think I’d be much good.”

“Not if we have to fight,” I agreed. “But when we need to transport them, using their cars or any of ours—or for that matter any acquired in Wichita—could be dangerous. So if we let you follow us, then we could find somewhere safe to stay until you got there.”

“Or you could have the OWLE guys down there bring you guys to meet me or something. Lots of possibilities. Will that work?” She aimed her question at the other two.

“I believe so,” Foyl agreed. “Ultimately, I think it circumvents some of the problems we’d have. Caninus?”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “That’ll work fine. Let’s get started.” Everyone seemed to know their roles except for me. Merula
began sprinkling herbs in my lab, Foyl was chanting in a guttural tongue and Caninus was drawing heavily on his magical aura.

“Hey,” I said softly. “What the hell do I do?”

“In a minute,” he said to me. “I’ll tell you ‘go’ and then grab my shoulder,” he slid his shirt, baring a shoulder. The skin was smooth and unmarked. “Until then, concentrate very, very hard on what Elris’ shop looks like. You might want to pick something that will have changed very little. Then I’ll use the connection from you to find it once we’re in the Afterways.”

“Alright,” I said as he closed his eyes and returned to his aura. I was way out of my league here. Necro-magic was scary for most people and dangerous, but nothing like this strangely orchestrated, ritualistic manner. So I waited, and focused.

The last time I’d been in the shop, it was late summer. The sun had slanted welcomingly in the front windows, making the letters of the Elven name painted on the window fall on his linoleum floor. The mahogany desk was in front of a large case of custom models hung on the wall. Next to those were the tags on the triggers, displaying, in Elris’ neat print, who had commissioned the gun. Many other weapons were scattered about the front room, moving so frequently that I couldn’t guess what would be where now. Casings scattered the shop in various states of repair, and two Slayers in bulletproof glass flanked the walls. The entirety of the shop was behind the large counters connected to the desk. The only things that were on the walls that weren’t guns, bullets or parts were newspaper clippings and framed articles. The most prominent one proudly displayed the headline, “US MILITARY COMMISSIONS FROM ELVEN GENIUS.” He had been so amused and yet so proud. It would be in the same place, hanging under a mounted lamp that made sure it always received enough light to be read. I focused on that spot, down to the scuffmarks on the linoleum and the slight sag of the ceiling.

“Go,” Caninus said to me, and I put my hand on his shoulder. We were thrown immediately into the Afterways.