Chapter Twenty-Four: The Shift

Emma sat outside Josef's home up in the hills, enjoying the full moon's light bathing the world and turning it bluish silver. Beth and Ellen were with her and obviously relieved. None of them had been sure how she'd cope with the news of Josef's betrayal. Since she'd moved in with him and was helping him host a small get together with their friends, it appeared Emma had dealt with it rather easily.

"To friends," she said, raising her glass of red wine. Ellen had a red liquid in her glass, too, but it certainly wasn't wine. "Mortal and immortal alike."

"Here, here," Beth said, clinking her glass against Emma's and Ellen's. A slight pang of guilt made Emma's smile fade. She hadn't invited all her mortal friends. It pained her to think they just didn't fit in her life anymore. At least she and Sheryl could keep up an e-mail relationship after she moved. As for Brandon, he was probably out of her life for good. He hadn't called to check up on her or popped up at the shop for a surprise visit. Obviously he wasn't dealing with rejection very well.

"I wonder what Mick and Josef are talking about," Ellen murmured, glancing through the glass doors to the two vampires deep in conversation.

"Probably that weird murder down at the docks," Beth said. The other women turned to look at her strangely. "What? I'm a reporter. It's my job to know these things." Emma smirked.

"Okay, then, start reporting. What happened?"

"Eyewitnesses say that a group of about six women pursued one lone woman into an alley. Then no one knows for sure what happened. Someone passing by about ten minutes later noticed a body on the ground. The rest of them had vanished."

"How did she die?" Ellen asked softly.

"That's the weird part. Apparently her heart just stopped beating." Emma raised a brow.

"It stopped? There wasn't any cause?"

"Not that anyone's been able to find so far." Beth shrugged. "Mick's looking into it because it falls in the category of strange and unusual."

"But it doesn't necessarily have anything to do with vampires?"

"You never know," Beth said, taking a sip of her wine. "Although it was probably occult related. The victim had a pentagram tattoo on her upper right arm."

"Was she a Wiccan?" Emma inquired. Beth raised a brow.

"What?"

"Oh, come on. In your line of work you've never heard the term before?" At Beth's blank expression Emma sighed. "It's a religion that practices witchcraft."

"Uh, Emma –" Ellen began to warn her friend but was cut off.

"Witchcraft?" Emma squeaked, pressing a hand to her heart. She glared over her shoulder at Josef.

"You'd better watch yourself. I'm seriously considering having a bell surgically attached to your throat." He smiled briefly but obviously there was something more important at hand. Both he and Mick looked serious.

"Why do you think the victim was a witch?" Mick asked. He had his detective face on, quiet and observant.

"The tattoo points that direction, don't you think?" Emma looked between the two male vampires. "What aren't you guys telling us? Mick, don't you dare look at Josef for permission." Josef rolled his eyes and Mick looked guiltily away from his friend.

"There have been some rumors circulating among the local vamps. Some strange activity, unusual smells but nothing really big. Now we have a dead witch." Beth stared at them in mild disbelief.

"So witches exist too? Wand-waving, spell-casting witches?"

"Someone's been watching too much Harry Potter," Josef said, leaning casually against Emma's chair.

"Technically, Beth is right. They do use wands and they do cast spells. It just isn't as fantastic as Hollywood would have you believe. Or as evil as the Catholic Church would have you believe, either. There are rules and a deep respect for the power they summon." It was Emma's turn to get a strange look from the group.

"How do you know so much about all this?" Beth asked.

"One of the women who take pottery lessons down at the café happens to be a Wiccan. We've talked about it a few times." Emma looked at Mick. "So we've got witches going wild in L.A.?"

"It looks that way," he agreed.

"Is it a problem that requires your immediate attention or can it wait?"

"It can probably wait," Mick said, raising a brow. "Why?" Emma got to her feet and shook out the wrinkles in her dark purple skirt.

"Because then we can talk about something slightly less macabre than dead witches lying in alleys." She smiled cheerfully. "Beth, there's a hole in your glass. I'll get some wine to fix it. Ellen, more blood for you?" Ellen nodded eagerly. "O positive, right? Josef, did you remember to put those labels on?" Josef cleared his throat, aware of the odd looks he was getting from the others.

"Done."

"Good." Emma went into the house. Mick couldn't help but notice that there was something inherently comfortable in the way she walked, as if she belonged in this house and with these people.

"Labels?" he asked, glancing at Josef who had grown noticeably awkward.

"So she knows which blood type is which," he mumbled. "After all, she can't smell it and tell." Beth smiled.

"That's very courteous of you, Josef."

"Very domestic, too." In a weird way. "She seems to have settled in well," Mick noted with a grin.

"Emma is very adaptable," Josef murmured, looking in the direction of the kitchen. "Or maybe the environment is. She's been here a week and just about everything has changed."

"I noticed the lack of foliage," Mick said. "There was also a lot more color."

"Apparently it makes the house warmer," Josef muttered. Then he sighed. "I've become one of those men who watch helplessly as their women reorganize their lives, haven't I?"

"Yep," Mick agreed. "The question is, are you happy?"

"As only an idiot can be." The look in Josef's eyes belied the sarcasm. He knew he wouldn't go back to how he'd been living before Emma had fallen into his life. This was better, somehow more real.

Emma got out the small plate of appetizers. It was small because only two of them would be eating, anyway. Thankfully Emma hadn't had to go grocery shopping when she moved in. The freshies who lived there ate actual food and kept the kitchen well-stocked. Of course, most of them were now unemployed. Only three of the women had been retained for emergency purposes. With vampires, blood could be in demand at any time. At least they were the most intelligent so she could have real conversations with them.

She uncorked another bottle of wine, humming to herself. The change in Josef's diet hadn't exactly been deliberate. He could sense the way she tensed any time his 'decorative toys' came near him and before she could say a word the majority got the boot and there was a significant increase of bagged blood in the refrigerator. Bagged blood that he'd labeled just as she'd asked. Emma reached for the O positive at the same time Josef wrapped his arms around her waist. "You make a beautiful hostess," he murmured against her neck. They'd gone a few rounds about that particular aspect of her place in his house. He said he had people who were paid to make things run smoothly and she said she wanted to know things weren't just up to random people whose names she didn't even know.

"As long as I get the job done," Emma said. Josef stared morosely at her throat.

"I hate it when you wear turtlenecks."

"Well, something's got to keep you away from my neck," she told him, getting the O positive and shutting the fridge. "If you keep nibbling at me those marks are never going to heal."

"I can't help it if you're irresistible," Josef pointed out. She rolled her eyes, a motion which immediately stopped when he began to kiss her earlobe. Emma let out a quiet sigh.

"We have guests," she reminded him weakly, arching back as he slid a hand under her sweater.

"They can wait." Josef turned her around in his arms and pressed her against the refrigerator door, beginning to work his particular brand of magic on her mouth.

"Wow," Beth said, a little surprised to see the two of them lip-locked. "So that's what was taking so long." Emma's face went bright red and she pushed Josef back a step.

"See, this is why you don't keep guests waiting. Eventually they'll come looking for you." She picked up the bag of O positive that she'd dropped when she needed both of her hands to touch Josef.

"I would have kept my guests waiting too," Beth admitted. "Sometimes it's worth it."

"My thoughts exactly." Josef gently stroked Emma's hair. She looked up at him and Beth suddenly felt like an intruder in a 'happily ever after' ending. At least she had Mick, who was slowly getting over the idea of biting her during sex. That was a blessing.

Two hours later, Emma's cell phone rang. Her eyes narrowed on it. That was only supposed to be used for emergencies. What was happening now? She picked it up and was surprised to hear Brandon's voice on the other side.

"Emma, I'm sorry about calling so late but it's Sheryl. She came over to my house crying and nothing I say seems to help. Apparently she found some old photo albums with her brother's pictures and…"

"I understand," she said quickly. "I'll be there as fast as I can." Emma hung up then smiled guiltily. "I've got to go. A friend's having a crisis." Josef caught her arm as she headed for the garage.

"I'd prefer it if you weren't near him." She rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, Josef, I love you but sometimes you're a really possessive bastard." Emma gently kissed his cheek. "I'll be back before you know it." He tried to be reasonable about it. After all, she had a right to keep her friends and comfort them when necessary.

"Then hurry so you'll be back faster," he murmured, squeezing her hand. She took his advice and was off like a shot in one of the less conspicuous cars Josef owned.

The traffic wasn't too bad. Emma hated driving at night. Lights would blur together and she couldn't be sure of what she was seeing. She glanced in her rearview mirror, frowning slightly. That white Porsche was following her rather closely. Any closer and it'd end up in her trunk.

"If I'm not going fast enough for you then why don't you just go around me?" she muttered. Emma turned onto Brandon's street and another car smashed into hers. She got the vague impression of bright headlights right in her eyes before yet another blow hammered her car. The seatbelt she thought she'd put on was no longer there. Something else hit the car and her instincts were screaming that this wasn't natural, wasn't normal. Sounds and bright lights, flying and crashing through something hard. Her body hit the pavement with a loud, broken thud. Emma gulped in the air, the breath having been knocked out of her.

"Ouch," someone murmured. "That must have hurt." Her vision was blurry but she could see the outline of a woman bending over her. The voice clucked disapprovingly. "And look at that head wound. Those do tend to bleed a lot, don't they?"

"H-Help," Emma rasped, although the part of her that could still think clearly doubted this strange woman meant her any good. Indeed, at Emma's voice she began to laugh.

"Oh, I don't think so. Look at all this damage. Especially here." The woman picked up Emma's wrist and even with slightly blurred vision she could see what the problem was. A large chunk of her windshield had lodged itself in her wrist. Blood dripped down her arm, making her think of Josef. How much time did she have before she simply bled out? "I know what you're thinking," the woman said in a conversational tone. "Is that glass going to help you or kill you faster? I would say, judging by the angle, that your hand is going to be fine. You won't lose the feeling in it. Unfortunately, the blood from the rest of your body is going to empty itself out on to the concrete. Bad luck, Bradford. Very bad luck." The woman sat back and smiled at Emma's still body. "You're starting to feel it, aren't you? That numbness." She was right. The edge of the pain had faded, a soft gray enveloping her sight. What was it they said about pain? It let you know when you were alive. What would it mean when she stopped hurting but hadn't gotten help?

"Emma!" She knew that voice. "Emma, oh my God!" Brandon hadn't seen the wreck but a few seconds ago he'd seen the smoldering wreck of a car and instinctively known his friend had been in it. He kneeled beside Emma. "Christ, Naomi, what did you do?" She raised a brow.

"What did I do? Au contraire. You are the one who agreed to pay the price. You wanted her safe. Now, safe she will be." Brandon paled.

"I didn't agree to this. I didn't want her dead!"

"You never said that," Naomi pointed out. "Besides, you're overreacting. I never said her death would be the price. Perhaps it will be only that you must watch her suffer because of what you have done. Of course, that will depend."

"On what?" Brandon asked. His eyes were as desperate as his voice. Naomi smirked.

"On how quickly you call for help." She straightened and walked away from the frantic mortal who was clumsily getting out his cell phone, struggling to dial 911. Of course, little Emma wouldn't die. She was far too stubborn to let life slip away so easily. Also, Naomi was going to need her alive. A cruel smile curved her lips.

There was no better way to make Josef suffer.