Chapter 7: Fire Orchids
Dean slung Chloe's suitcase onto the back seat of her Mustang. "Where are you off to now?"
"New Haven," she said, slamming the trunk shut. "I expect to be there writing the user guide for another three to four weeks."
"Will you stay the entire time at Wisteria's inn?"
She nodded. "I found her through the B&B association, but since we're Wicca sisters now it's become a second home." She drew close to him. "Her chef really is an excellent pie maker. You should stop by." She shrugged. "For pie and other stuff."
"That other stuff sounds even more tempting than pie. We'll probably stay in the Northeast for a while. It depends on what happens with the vamps. We didn't find any in Rockaway, but Sam heard from Bobby that there may be a nest off the interstate in Dover."
"I spotted Sam having lunch with Maia when we went upstairs. They seem to be hitting it off."
Dean had seen them as well—two geeks making goo-goo eyes at each other. No vampires. Sam rejoining the human race. Yep, he'd chalk this week up as one of the better ones he'd had in quite a while.
"That will give you another reason to visit New Haven," Chloe said. "Maia's researching her thesis at Yale this summer. I heard her mention she'll teach an introductory class there in the fall."
"She and Sam can spend long hours together with their books. They can have study dates."
"Exactly. Just like the way you're helping me with the scenes for my novel."
"We should schedule another session soon," he murmured in her ear.
Sam was waiting in the Impala and Chloe needed to be on her way, but they lingered for a few more minutes. How had he been so lucky to find a woman who wasn't interested in commitments? But when they were together, the earthquake he felt was almost supernatural.
Would Maia be as good for Sam? He hoped so. Then Sam might relax and be more open with him. As it was, he was a hard dude to read. Were all kid brothers that way? Shutting their older and wiser siblings out? When would Sam learn that if he wanted Dean to stop worrying about him, he should simply let him in? It wasn't like Dean was bossy . . . much. Well, he sorta was. But it was for Sam's own good.
Chloe drew back. "What is it?"
"Sorry. Trying to figure out what's going on in Sam's head is messing with mine. Brothers can drive you nuts. Do you have any sisters?"
"No. I wish I did." Chloe looked at him with big serious eyes. "You and Sam are very lucky to have each other. He knows that."
"And leaving me in the dark is his way of showing his appreciation?"
#
Neal crouched next to Satchmo and adjusted his astronomy bandanna. "I hear you're abandoning me for a picnic. It's a good thing you were such an excellent model for the past two days. I suppose I can let you take an afternoon off."
El had stopped by the observatory in time to help them clean up from the morning session. Earlier in the day, she'd gone on a nature hike with Chloe and Janet. They'd found some unusual flowers in a meadow that she wanted Peter to see. She'd packed a lunch and tried to persuade Neal to come along, but he had a painting to finish.
After a morning surrounded by kids, Neal looked forward to some alone time. The observatory was quiet. Mozzie had a new subject to research. The legends about Astrena had already taken root in the fertile soil of his imagination, and he was determined to discover more about her. Travis was still immersed in analyzing the peculiar radio waves that had now vanished from SETI's monitors.
Neal gathered up his art supplies and loaded up Travis's car for the trip to the meadow. This was his last day to channel Monet. If Peter returned next year, he wouldn't mind coming along even if there weren't any bears.
A couple of hours into his painting, he stopped to scrutinize the work. He hadn't intended to copy Monet's style so closely, but the master's s influence was flooding through the painting. It was too derivative to be shown to his professors at Columbia, but he liked it.
He sprawled on the grass next to the tree and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. It was shady and cool. He hadn't gotten much sleep the previous night . . .
He was wakened by a rustling of grass. Squinting in the bright sunshine, he saw a woman strolling through the meadow toward him. She wore a long flowing dress. A broad straw hat shaded her face. Her golden hair fell loose over her shoulders. Neal blinked and rubbed his eyes. He must have been dreaming of Monet. She seemed like she'd stepped out of the nineteenth century, or was he the one who'd traveled back?
"I'm sorry. Did I wake you?" Electra's voice, cultured and sultry, made him want to dust off his jeans. He wished he'd worn a better shirt.
"No, I was just daydreaming," he said, standing up. "I'm surprised to see you. I thought the festival was over."
"Maia and I haven't had the time to enjoy the park. We decided to postpone our departure till tomorrow." She walked over to his easel. "May I?"
"Of course."
As she studied the painting, she questioned him on his technique and what he was trying to capture in the painting. Neal was surprised at her expertise. She could have been one of his professors at Columbia. He'd studied Monet, but she related anecdotes about the Impressionist master that Neal had never heard.
He offered her a bottle of chilled water, regretting he didn't have a bottle of wine instead. Water didn't seem appropriate for someone so refined. From Monet, they moved on to a discussion of Renoir and Manet.
#
El directed Peter to a fallen log in the woods and pointed to a patch of flame-red flowers growing next to it. "Aren't they beautiful? Chloe's an expert on wildflowers and she's never seen anything like them in New Jersey. They're called fire orchids." She turned to Satchmo. "No sniffing, Satch. They're not a toy."
The center of the orchid looked like a mask or maybe a face. He studied it more closely, looking at it from different angles. Now that was weird.
"What are you doing?" El asked.
"Come stand next to me. Does the orchid look like a vampire to you? I can see its fangs. And not only that, it appears to follow me with its eyes."
"You're not serious, are you?"
"You try it," he challenged, even as he felt foolish for suggesting it.
El imitated his actions, concentrating on the flower. "I see what you mean. The eyes in the center have the Mona Lisa effect. But the face looks more like a Chinese sage to me."
Peter shook himself mentally. He was starting to see vampires wherever he looked. Good thing Neal wasn't with them. He already had plenty of subjects to tease Peter about.
The orchids were growing at the border between the meadow and the woods, close to the location where Mozzie had spotted the fireflies. "Last night Mozzie was speculating about space aliens turning into fireflies? Perhaps they became orchids instead."
El laughed. "We better not tell him. He'll either want to pick them or demand they take him to their leader. Chloe and Janet have led field trips all over the park and this is the only stand they discovered. In fact, Janet swears she walked by this same spot yesterday while looking for butterflies and they weren't there. I bet she was so focused on butterflies, she overlooked them."
"Do Janet and Chloe have any theories on how the orchids got here?"
"Since the orchids are native to Southeast Asia, Chloe suspects someone planted them, possibly as a memorial to a pet that was buried in the park. The practice is illegal, of course, but that doesn't prevent it from happening."
"You called them fire orchids. Perhaps someone planted them in honor of the Litha bonfire."
"I hadn't thought of that, but it does sound likely. I have Chloe's email address. I should write her. One of the Wiccans could have planted them a month ago when they heard about the upcoming festival. Chloe told me many members are expert herbalists and botanists."
"For spell-casting and potion-brewing?"
"I suppose so."
Peter exhaled slowly. "I hope they don't encourage Chloe."
El put an arm around him. "I'm sure you're safe. Still, one can never be too careful. She told me how she's a descendant of a Salem witch. I'll ask her to leave you out of any spells she casts."
"Have your fun. Just wait till she turns you into a dork." Peter stood up. "We're not far from the area where Neal's been painting. Let's go visit him."
The trail skirted the edge of the woods. When they rounded the bend to the meadow, El stopped and shielded her eyes. "I can see Travis's car. Neal must still be there."
As they approached the large sugar maple where Neal had set up his outdoor studio, Peter noticed he wasn't alone. "Do you recognize the woman with him?"
El paused for a moment to study her. "I think that may be Electra."
They were sitting on a bench under the tree. "I'm glad Neal has some company. Don't be jealous, Satchmo." When El didn't say anything, Peter turned to look at her. "Why the frown? Is there a problem?"
She winced, looking embarrassed. "Don't mind me."
"What is it, hon?"
"That's just it. I don't know," she said, giving a frustrated shrug. "But you know how your gut clues you into things without you knowing why? For me, it's my heart, and there's something about seeing Neal and Electra together that bothers me."
"You mentioned that before. You called her a cougar with her eyes set on Neal. But after you met her, you said you found her charming. Which is it?"
"Can it be both? I do like her, just not around Neal."
"Neal's no stranger to women being attracted to him. He can take care of himself."
"I know that." She shook her head as if to get rid of the negative vibes. "I'm probably being oversensitive because of what happened with Fiona."
"It's understandable. Neal's been unlucky in love, but I don't see Electra as being his type."
As they approached, Neal and Electra rose to greet them. Her smile was warm and friendly. Peter trusted El's instincts, but in this case, he was inclined to agree she was being overly protective. He had a difficult time casting Electra as a cougar about to drag Neal to her lair.
"I noticed Neal painting and stopped to chat," Electra said.
"Hey, Satchmo, what's wrong?" Neal crouched to stroke the Lab. Satchmo was normally friendly—if anything too friendly—with strangers. But not this time. His ears were back, and those growls bordered on snarls.
"Please excuse our dog," Peter said quickly. "He's actually very gentle."
Electra didn't appear to be bothered. "He probably smells Daphne on me. She's my Siamese cat. I didn't bring her, but you know how it is. When you have a pet, their scent and stray hairs are a constant reminder. I don't want to distress your dog. Satchmo is such a charming name." She smiled down at him, but it was plain Satchmo wasn't buying it. Turning to Neal, she added, "Don't forget your promise to show me more of your paintings. I'll contact you the next time I make a trip to New York." Electra headed back along the meadow trail.
"You plan to see her again?" El asked.
Neal shrugged. "Perhaps. She has a friend who owns a gallery in SoHo. Electra thought he might be interested in displaying a couple of my works."
"I think she was fascinated by you as well as your art," El couldn't resist adding.
Neal blew off her comment with a shake of his head. "I wonder what got into Satchmo."
"He may have been mirroring his mistress's opinion," Peter said.
El frowned. "I didn't say I disliked her."
"What did you say?" Neal asked.
She winced. "She has a way of looking at you that seems a little predatory to me."
"Specifically, like a cougar," Peter interjected. "You could put her at ease by telling her Electra didn't make a pass at you."
"She didn't"—he paused for a moment and smiled—"unless you consider her offer to pose in the nude a play for my attention."
"She suggested that?" asked El, her eyes widening.
His smile broadened. "She was teasing me. At least that's the way I took it. You're familiar with Manet's work, Luncheon on the Grass. We were discussing the technique of painting outdoors and some famous examples. It was in that context she made her remark. You don't need to be concerned about Electra. I have no intention of asking her to be my model."
"See, hon. You and Satchmo can relax." Peter turned to Neal. "Are you going to let us see your masterpiece as well?"
"Of course. I'd like your opinion. Was my experiment in outdoor painting a success?"
As if there were any doubt. Neal had depicted himself painting the scene while Satchmo sprawled among the wildflowers.
El was ecstatic in her reaction. "Are you going to take it to Columbia?"
He shook his head. "My professors would have my head for being too derivative. It's yours if you'd like it."
"My own Caffrey Monet? I'd love it!" El exclaimed.
They helped Neal pack up his paint supplies, and he gave them a lift back to the observatory in Travis's car. During the short drive, Neal asked if there'd been any word about vampires.
"They found a nest but the vampires were away," Peter said. "They rescued a woman who was being held captive and took her to a hospital."
"Will you need to talk with the police?"
"Sam's already contacted them about her. How she'll explain her injury, I don't know. Since it's not a federal matter, I don't need to be involved. Bobby is hearing more and more reports. The latest was of a nest in Easton, south of the park. They plan to check it out this afternoon."
Why were the vampires still hanging around? Weren't they supposed to have taken off with their pure-blood princes? When Peter asked Dean about it, he didn't have a good answer. Peter knew Dean and Sam were working it, but his gut wasn't happy. And it wasn't because of Electra.
Gemma's Guest Cottage at the Inn.
"You're being quiet," said Gemma, watching Electra with amusement. "Won't you describe your encounter with your new protégé? How did he react?"
Electra gave a mysterious smile. When Maia saw that look, she knew Electra wouldn't reveal any details. Her sister constantly warned Maia about not visiting Sam too often, but did she follow her own advice?
Electra reclined back on the couch. "I've adopted Maia's strategy—the game of flirtation. It has a certain charm, this art of love. We can feed at any time, but where's the challenge? This will prolong our pleasure before the inevitable."
"And what if he resists your formidable skills?" said Gemma skeptically. "You won't use your powers at all?"
Electra smiled slyly. "I never said I wouldn't cheat a little."
The space in the center of the room began to shimmer. When it had coalesced into the demon Crowley, he gave a slight bow. "Ladies, how may I assist?"
"Are the thralls in place?" Electra asked.
"Of course, my queen. They all have their instructions. As soon as your flower children assume their true forms, they'll be escorted to safety."
"Flower children?" Electra smiled with delight. "How appropriate." Her expression grew stern. "I've heard reports of thralls being captured or killed."
Crowley dismissed the news with a shrug. "The unavoidable consequences of the low classes we're forced to deal with. I assure you all will go smoothly this evening."
"For your sake, it better," Gemma warned. Her deep voice commanded respect. Maia wished she could make her own voice sultrier. But then Sam preferred the gentle touch. Perhaps it was for the best.
"No attention must be drawn to the pure-bloods," Electra warned.
Crowley bowed. "I've given the vampires their orders. The safe houses are already arranged."
"Did you purchase the estate in Shepherdstown for Lutar?" Among the pure-bloods, Electra had taken a particular interest in him. Maia didn't want to see what she'd be like if any harm befell him.
"The mansion is ready to receive its new owner, and the honor guard is ready. The thralls will move into position in the park before it closes and await the ceremony."
"Don't draw any attention to yourself," Electra cautioned. "It wouldn't do for the FBI to know that the man they call the Dutchman is being seen in town. The Burkes are staying in this inn."
"Those denim-wrapped Forrest Gumps?" He snorted in derision. "They're hardly worth my bother. My associates tell me the Moose and Squirrel are here as well."
"Stop speaking in riddles," Gemma chided him. "Who are you talking about?"
"The two hunters who invaded Alcyone's house," he explained. "They tried to stop my transformation, as if they could. Sam, the one Maia has taken such a fancy for, is tall enough to be a moose. And wherever Bullwinkle is, Rocky the Flying Squirrel can't be far away." Crowley cast an appraising glance at Maia. "You'll need a ladder to mount your chosen one, little mouse."
Maia's cheeks grew hot at his crude expression. Crowley didn't appear to appreciate the risk he ran. She took a slow breath, forcing herself to relax. For all his snarkiness, she didn't want to hurt him. Why she felt that way was a mystery, but it was as if someone was whispering in her ear Don't harm him. You'll regret it.
Gemma arched her brows. "Blushing over a protégé? I didn't know you were so smitten."
Crowley was watching her intently. Electra wouldn't have hesitated to make Crowley pay. No jokes allowed when it came to her protégés. When Maia remained silent, he relaxed his stance. "Always a pleasure, radiant ones." With a final bow, he snapped his fingers and vanished.
#
Dean took his eyes briefly off the dark country road to shoot a glance at Sam. "Still no luck?"
"Just voicemail. At this hour they're probably outside stargazing with the kids. I can't tell if the signal's not getting through or if they're too busy to respond."
"Keep trying. We're still over a half-hour away." Dean pressed his foot down on the accelerator. The Stones' song "Play with Fire" kept running through his head. They'd all been playing with fire. Now if they didn't get through to the observatory in time, those kids would get burnt. Why hadn't he shut down the camp when Peter asked about it?
"At least we reached Bobby," Sam reminded him. "He's heading for the park and will spread the warning."
"I hope he brings hunters with him. If what the vampire said is true, we'll need all the help we can get." Sam grabbed the hand grip on the door as Dean swung through a curve at three times the posted speed. Luckily the backroad they were on was deserted.
They'd hit pay dirt in Easton. One of the vamps got away but they managed to capture the other alive. She was a sad case. Only recently turned, she hated what she'd become. Lacey. What a name for a vampire. Just eighteen years old. She looked like she'd been a sweet kid, but they were powerless to remove the curse. Her pleas to be killed didn't make the job any easier.
Lacey said that the vampires were gathering to escort their new masters to safety. Supposedly they were being created tonight in a ritual that Astrena had begun the previous day. That name again. Lacey called her the queen of the vampires and explained that the pure-bloods were her children. The leader of Lacey's pack hadn't revealed the exact rendezvous location but told Lacey it was in a state park near Hope. The only park in that area was Jenny Jump.
They pressed her for details on how many pure-bloods were being created but she didn't have any. All she knew was that the new princes were going to usher in a new order. Great. As if they didn't have enough demons already to contend with. Now they were faced with a super-race of vampires. The final ritual was taking place tonight.
"You think Astrena is real?" Sam asked.
"Lacey thought so, but I'd say the jury's still out. It could be someone who's heard of the legend and is now profiting off it."
"Perhaps Mozzie can dig up something about her. Bobby may have met his match," Sam added with a smile.
"He reminds me a lot of Bobby—a one-stop shop for research, fake IDs, you name it. I wonder if he has a phone bank for various aliases like Bobby does."
"Nothing would surprise me," Sam said, checking his map. "He already claims to have leads on some ancient Greek manuscripts. They're not available online, but he's promised to look into them when he's back in New York . . . Watch it!"
Dean abruptly swerved, narrowly missing a tree. "What was that? All I saw were glowing eyes."
Sam turned his head to look. "You nearly creamed Bambi's father."
"Damn." Dean ratcheted down his speed. Killing a deer wouldn't help anyone, least of all Bambi. "Lacey said the ritual was taking place somewhere out in the open, near where the seeds of the pure-bloods were planted last night. Any ideas on what that could mean? She made it sound like Astrena grows vampires like zinnias."
"It may have something to do with those shooting stars we saw last night," Sam speculated. "Travis said he counted thirteen coming down, but so far no meteor craters have been reported."
"I don't like it," Dean muttered. "Those shooting stars looked like they were making a bead straight for us. That puts those kids at ground zero. Try to get Peter again." He pressed his foot back down on the accelerator.