"So, who is this Morgan we're supposed to find? Do you know where she is?" Brenda asked Simon, allowing herself to finally let go of his hand as they began walking across the parking lot.
"She's my High Priestess," he told her.
Brenda nodded vaguely.
"I am a part of a Covenant called the Circle of the Crone."
Brenda nodded again, vaguely recalling the crone as one of the aspects of the triple goddess in her old studies of mythology.
"The Crone is the aspect of the goddess that vampires embody."
"Is Sanji also part of the Circle of the Crone?"
"No. He is part of the Ordo Dracul. Members of that covenant believe they were founded by Dracula," he said with a smirk.
Brenda raised her eyebrows. "I wouldn't have suspected that of Sanji."
"I don't think he really buys into that part. The Ordo Dracul is about the self, and its members strive to rise above their vampiric nature. Simon is more spiritual than most of them, though, more like the Circle in some ways."
Brenda wished she could take notes on what Simon was telling her.
"We need to go to Morgan's Druid grove."
"I've never been to a Druid Grove before," she said thoughtfully. "But I've met a few Druids."
Simon raised his eyebrows. "You have?"
Brenda shrugged. "Neodruids would probably be a more accurate term actually. Not real ones."
Before Simon could respond, Simon was shoved forward from behind by a large bearded man. Brenda sensed the predator's taint in him and fought to silence her instinct to run.
"So, Simon, is this your new girlfriend?" he asked in a loud, harassing tone.
Brenda leaned down, offering Simon her hand. He waved her away and began to get up again, only to be shoved to the ground once more.
"Leave him alone!" Brenda shouted angrily.
"Aw, and your girlfriend has to protect you, too?" he asked, grinning and turning his attention toward Brenda.
Simon rose stiffly to his feet.
"What's your name?" the large man asked, interposing himself between Brenda and Simon.
"Detective Brenda Wild," she snapped, not sure it was the wisest move, but this Neanderthal was making her angry.
"Oh, a detective," he said mockingly, raising his bushy eyebrows. "And what's a cute little thing like you doing with this wimp? It's a good thing I'm here to show you what a real man is like." He reached out and grabbed her wrist, hard.
"Let go of me!" she yelled, trying unsuccessfully to pull free.
The huge man began to walk away, dragging her along with him. His strength was inhuman.
Brenda dragged her heels and struggled in vain, imagining a fate similar to what she'd just experienced days earlier. Simon, her Sire, wasn't he supposed to protect her? Perhaps he was. He was reaching into his jacket for what Brenda suspected to be a gun. She hoped his aim was good.
The approaching flashing lights prevented Brenda from learning the answer. Her attacker let go of her and took off running, while Simon came to stand at her side. The police car came to a stop in front of her.
"Are you all right, miss?" A man asked, leaning out his window. Brenda didn't recognize him, to her relief.
"I am now," she told him, hoping he hadn't studied her picture too carefully.
"All right," he said, eyeing her. "You should be careful. It's dangerous at night in this part of the neighborhood. Try to get somewhere a little more well lit."
"We will," she promised.
"You look familiar," he said. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"I don't think so." She resisted the urge to avert her face. It would only make her look suspicious.
"What's your name?"
Brenda's mind went blank. She should have planned for something like this. Even her first name alone was dangerous, because it might be all that he needed to connect her to her identity. All she had to do was make up a name, and she had no idea what to say.
"It's Opal," Simon said.
The officer nodded. "Well, the two of you make sure you get someplace safer."
Brenda waved as he drove away. "Opal?"
"It's my Sire's name."
Brenda walked with Simon in silence to his car. It was likely the first name to pop into his head. But she didn't want to be Opal. She didn't want to wear Opal's clothes. If she couldn't be Brenda anymore, she would forge her own new identity, not borrow someone else's.
She buckled herself into the passenger seat of Simon's car as he climbed in next to her and started the engine.
"That was the Hound," Simon told her. "He works for the Prince, as an enforcer of sorts, but really, he's just a bully."
She nodded. It seemed to her that everything associated with this Prince was corrupt.
She missed her cell phone. But even if she'd still had it, she couldn't answer it anymore. Had anyone been leaving her messages? No one but her knew the code, so she doubted anyone else had retrieved them. What if there was some information in there waiting for her?
"Can I use your phone?" she asked Simon as he began pulling out of his parking space. "I want to see if I had any messages before anyone realized I was missing."
Simon nodded, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out his phone. "I left you one."
She took the phone from him and dialed into her voicemail. The first message was indeed from Simon, requesting that she call him as soon as possible. She considered deleting it, but what if someone had found a way into her messages? She needed to let them draw the conclusion that she'd been murdered. If they noticed changes in her messages, it would look suspicious.
She pressed the pound key in order to skip to the next message. "Brenda, it's Dad. I really enjoyed having lunch with you yesterday. You left something over here at my house." There was a long pause. "Well, I'll tell you when you call me back," he said with a laugh. "I love you."
That was her last message.
"I'll never get to find out what I left at my dad's," she complained.
Simon glanced at her, and then quickly turned his attention back to the road. "You can't remember?"
She'd had too many other things on her mind. "No. It's weird that he wouldn't mention what it was."
"Maybe because it was something embarrassing?"
"That sounds most likely, but I just can't imagine what it would be."
"Did you leave your purse? I don't remember you carrying one with you before."
"Possibly." Brenda couldn't remember either, and it was possible that she'd forgotten it while worrying over her case notes. Her diaphragm was in there. Well, she assumed her father hadn't been deluding himself that she was still a virgin at twenty-nine. What would be much more embarrassing was when he went to clean out her apartment and found the vibrator along with the nearly full, expired box of condoms she kept in her dresser, a testament to how rarely she had company at night.
-
Some distance north of Fort Collins, Simon got off of I-25 and onto a windy dirt road that traveled in a vaguely western direction, and they were soon winding through the Rocky Mountains. The dirt road soon became overgrown, and they came to a stop in a dark, heavily wooded area.
"You should wait here," Simon told her. "Morgan doesn't permit anyone to step into the grove who hasn't been formally inducted into the Circle."
Brenda nodded, glancing back behind them. No approaching lights, no sound of an engine. Would someone have followed them?
"I'll leave you the keys and my phone," he said, picking up on her unease.
"Thank you." Brenda wasn't sure who she would call if there was a problem, since Simon was the only person who'd be close enough.
"I'll be back as soon as I can." Simon unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out, closing the car door behind him.
Brenda immediately locked the doors and slid over to the driver's side. She turned the key just enough that the car had electricity, without restarting the engine, and then adjusted the radio's volume as low as it could get while still allowing her to hear it. With her newly heightened senses, this was quite low. She sank down against the seat low enough that no one would see her through the windows and tried to relax her nerves.
After just under an hour, a bloody face appeared outside the window, and Brenda sat up with a gasp. The woman outside the car indeed had blood smeared on her face in glyph-like patterns Brenda couldn't recognize. Her hair was a bright shade of red that could only be achieved through dye.
Brenda spotted Simon approaching behind her, so she reached over and unlocked the doors, then slid over to the passenger seat.
Morgan climbed into the back seat while Simon got into the front and started the car up. Introductions hardly seemed necessary. Brenda already knew who Morgan was, and Simon had no doubt told his High Priestess about his Childe.
"I don't like this, Simon. It's an obvious trap," Morgan said as Simon began turning the car around.
"There isn't any way around it. If you don't show up, he'll have me killed."
Brenda shuddered, imagining how lost she might be if Simon was taken away from her. And what would the Prince do with her? Would he kill her too? Would he keep her for himself? She felt nauseous at the thought.
"I know," Morgan said, scowling. "But he knows I am safe in my grove. He's making you bring me to him so he can kill me."
Brenda glanced back at Morgan worriedly. She didn't like the notion of endangering her, but she saw no way around it. She was at least pleased to meet an enemy of the Prince.
Morgan's brown eyes met Brenda's, and they seemed to sparkle with mischief as a smirk played at her lips. "I'll have to put a curse on him one of these days. If you ever happen to find access to his hair or his blood, do let me know."
"Morgan!" Simon snapped. "You're going to scare her off."
"I don't think so," Morgan said, eyeing Brenda.
"I may know where to get those things," Brenda said slowly. But she couldn't be sure they were his. Even if they weren't, she wouldn't pass up an opportunity to curse the bastard who'd raped her. "Do you need to know who you're cursing, in order for it to work?"
"I'm afraid so, child."
Brenda nodded, disappointed.
"It's good that I'm coming back with you, I think," said Morgan. "Simon has been lax in your training."
"I don't want to overwhelm her," Simon protested.
"I was only embraced yesterday," Brenda said, feeling obligated to defend Simon. He'd been nothing but supportive of her needs. "There hasn't been time." Besides, she'd never been interested in religion before, although something about the feminine energy of the goddess had an allure she wouldn't normally have expected.
"The training is meant to begin before your embrace," Morgan said sternly.
"It wasn't something that was exactly planned," Brenda said, glancing at Simon, wondering if he was planning to bring her into the Circle of the Crone. She wasn't certain he was, since she'd been embraced out of compassion, rather than any sort of potential to learn the ways of the goddess.
"I know. He told me. There is a lot of catching up for you to do," Morgan said, lifting a finger to her lips and slicing into it with her fangs. "But I believe you will learn quickly. May the goddess watch over you and guide you."
Brenda held still while Morgan touched her bloody finger to her forehead, anointing her with her strange blessing, feeling oddly pleased with the woman's approval.
