THE SERPENT'S TOOTH, Part 3

The feast of the Hidden Lady was done, although a few die-hard drinkers still persisted. I could hear their drunken singing out on the village commons.

I sat alone in my private chamber and gazed into the fireplace, watching the flames sway and dance. I told my wives that I would be indisposed and then left the celebration. Hopefully, the shade of my grandmother would understand.

My family and my people must have sensed my mood. I had no visitors.

Just before nightfall, I took two ancient fangs from a small box that I normally kept well-hidden. Then I used them to puncture a vein in my arm. They drank my blood as I made a silent call.

Exactly at midnight, my godmother visited me.

The flame in the fireplace seemed to shudder downwards as the shadows in the room lengthened.

"Twice in a decade, Jimmy?" an amused voice spoke from out of the darkest shadow. "Are you getting sentimental in your old age?"

I think I smiled at that.

"Hello, godmother," I said.

She appeared out of the darkness and sat in the chair next to mine. The Queen of the Vampires was dressed eccentrically in a dark yellow cloak and had the appearance of girl who was almost, but not quite, a woman. Except for her eyes, of course. Her eyes are ancient.

Actually, she's only a century-or-so older than me. And she was already a vampire when I was born. That's a long time and sometimes I wonder if she still remembers what it was like to be alive.

"Something's bothering you," she said as she leaned over, picked up a chunk of firewood, and tossed it onto the flames. That wasn't for her, of course. She does not require physical warmth, but she takes the "mother" part of "godmother" more seriously than you might think.

"I had a visitor, today," I said. "It was no less than Loki himself."

She sighed. "Let me guess: you talked and all of sudden there was a reason not to kill him."

That was strikingly accurate.

"Don't believe a thing he said," she told me very flatly.

"I think he spoke the truth," I replied. "Of course, it was to serve his own interests."

"About what?"

Once more, I told the story of Ingrid's death. This time I included Loki's commentary on it.

"Did Loki say what he wanted?" she asked. "I mean... other than to mess with you?"

"He asked for nothing except my account of what happened, but he's obviously trying to manipulate me into finding Ingrid. Thanks to Odin's decree, I think his powers on Midgard are limited. So he needs an agent."

My godmother nodded decisively. "Screw him. Now ring a bell or something, get your wives in here, and get all husbandly with them. I appreciate all of my new godchildren, but I want more."

I didn't respond to that.

"Oh," she said quietly, realizing what was wrong.

"Emma certainly lied to me," I replied. "Perhaps Olivia as well. Victoria had to be in on it, but that's not my concern."

She thought that over. "Even Emma isn't powerful enough to do a telepathic illusion that big on her own. She had to - at a minimum - fool you and Rahne, and both of you have senses even better than most Blood. And then there's anyone else who happened to be watching..."

"It seems likely that Cyrus helped," I interrupted suddenly.

She nodded. "Makes sense. When he cast his divination and detection spells to determine what was what with Ingrid and her baby, he could have snuck in a spell or two that made everyone more susceptible to misdirection and illusion. That would be a nicely tricky move."

"I suppose there is the possibility that the mages of House Strange acted on their own," I sighed.

My godmother shook her head. "Not likely. The mages and the priestesses either work together or avoid each other. There's too much that could go wrong for both sides if they got cross-wise with each other. And pulling off that big of a mental illusion is a lot trickier if one side or the other isn't part of the plot. Sorry, Jimmy, but it looks like Emma and Olivia have been naughty, naughty, girls."

I nodded, but said nothing. I could feel her eyes on me.

"Now what?" she asked.

"I'm considering my options," I said.

My godmother gave me a long and serious look before replying. "Let me make a suggestion: get Emma and Olivia in here, tell them you know what they did, let them explain why, give them both a sound spanking, and then have them spend the rest of the night giving you bilateral blowjobs. After that, forgive them, forget it, and get on with your life. Oh... and the hell with what Loki wants."

"For the Old One's sake, Jubilation! When did you become in favor of that kind of discipline?"

She snorted. "I'm the Queen of the Vampires, remember? You won't believe how hard I have to ride those idiots. You think you have a problem with people lying to you? There are vampires out there who have never told me a single damn truth in all of the centuries I've dealt with them. Dracula used to handle that by ripping out tongues and nailing them to the foreheads of the liars. But eventually I found out that ritual humiliation in front of a crowd of their peers worked better. It turns out that vampires are an incredible pack of status-queens. Which reminds me - when you're dealing with Emma and Olivia, have Anna watch. Emma and Olivia will hate that and it will be a good warning to Anna."

I shook my head, "I will do no such thing."

Jubes sighed, "Jimmy, you're maybe a little too much in love with your ladies."

"Your criticism is noted - and I concede your point."

That made her laugh. "So how can I help? Especially since you aren't listening to anything I suggest?"

"Before I have it out with Emma, I want to know what happened and why."

"That's reasonable - and smart," she agreed.

"And that means I need to know what happened to Ingrid," I added.

"That's unreasonable and dumb," she countered. "You're back to doing what Loki wants."

I shrugged in exasperation, "I don't see how I can find out what really happened without discovering Ingrid's fate."

She considered that. "Yep. That bastard has you over a barrel."

"He's good at that."

"Tell me again, why didn't we kill him after the Ratatosk incident?"

"He offered to save the refugees. And he did."

My godmother sighed. "That sneaky little jerk. So I suppose I'm back to asking you how I can help?"

"I need to talk to the Black Widows. You're the only person I know who can contact them."

She gave me a long look. "You're kidding."

I shook my head.

"You don't have a way to contact them because they avoid you like the plague and hate you like... like... hell, there aren't words for how much they hate you! You fought a war that almost destroyed them! They use your name to frighten their daughters!"

"That was a long time ago and I had just cause. An assassin cult has no place ruling ordinary people. Their approach to politics is simply too uncompromising and final. They just stack up bodies like cordwood."

"After you killed the high-mistress, you banged her successor!" my godmother choked out. "That was just adding insult to injury!"

"Also a long time ago. And while that story is true, elements are exaggerated. My... interaction... with the new high-mistress was necessary to get a peace-treaty. We had to disprove the myth of what happens to any male with whom a Widow mates. Some of the more conservative and patriarchal factions of the anti-Widow alliance refused to make peace as long as they believed that was true. And we were most certainly not in love - that part is minstrel nonsense."

My godmother rubbed her eyes tiredly. It's a remarkably human gesture on her part.

"Okay, there's a Widow cell in Nyagra. I'll send word that the local mistress should contact you."

I blinked in surpise. "A cell-mistress and her brood are living that near?"

My godmother gave me a long and level look, "They fear, hate, and avoid you, remember? A lot of effort goes into making sure you never hear anything about them."

I couldn't help but smile. There are some people who you want to be frightened of you.

"Why do you want to talk to them?" she asked curiously.

I took a moment to consider my answer. "Because I need someone who is completely and irrevocably separated from the Temple and the mages. I don't want word getting out that I'm asking awkward questions. Emma and Olivia didn't do this on their own - they had orders from someone higher up - I suspect the Graymalkin."

A wry smile quirked across her face. "Then you're going to the right people. The Widows are just as secretive, vicious, and full of themselves as the Graymalkin. And that's part of the reason you're crazy to deal with them."

"I'll take my chances with that," I said. "After all, I'm already dealing with Loki - and Rahne and I killed his many-times-great grandson just a few years ago. I'm sure he hasn't forgotten that."

Behind us, the door pushed open.

It was May, wearing a white night-dress. She had Oliver in her arms - he was also dressed for bed. Since he was about half her size, she had an awkward hold around his lower chest, and his feet were about a foot off the floor. He was struggling, but was obviously not using his full strength. Actually, he seemed to be enjoying the conflict.

"Sorry, daddy, Oliver was trying to..." May began. Then she stopped and her eyes went wide.

"Gamma!" she yelled in delight. Behind her, her tail swished excitedly.

Dangling from May's arms, Oliver chortled and waved with both hands. He was old enough to speak, but words had not yet come to him.

My godmother got out of her chair, knelt, and held her arms open. "C'mere, sweeties!" she called.

Both children more-or-less slammed full tilt into Jubes' arms and she hugged them tight. Getting up, with May and Oliver still clutched close, she sat back down in her chair. May began an excited recitation of everything - literally everything - that had happened since she'd last seen her beloved godmother.

Oliver just settled into his godmother's lap. Jubilation rythmically ran a long-nailed hand through his hair as she listened to May's chatter. Within a few seconds, Oliver was peacefully asleep.