Chapter 10: Bullet of the Gods

"You look very pleased." Electra watched Maia fold a dress for her suitcase. She'd been glowing all morning. Had she visited Sam again? Naughty little sister, cheating already? But since Electra had done the same with Neal, she'd let it pass.

"And why shouldn't I be?" Maia said defensively. "We have thirteen new pure-bloods on their way to their new homes. Do you know when the next alignment will occur?"

Electra zipped up her suitcase. "Not for a few years, unfortunately. Gemma said the situation is growing dire in Continental Europe. I'd already agreed to dispatch two pure-bloods to our sisters in Zagreb and Kenya. We may need to send more." At Maia's frown, she added, "Don't pout. We'll still have plenty. I saved the best for us."

"When does Gemma's plane leave?"

"She'll fly out of New York City this afternoon."

"Why doesn't she simply teleport her way home?"

"You know why. Every time we use magic, we increase the risk of discovery. I have no desire to move especially now that I've met such charming new friends."

Maia smiled. "I think I'll invite Chloe out to lunch. She may be able to help me pick out a cottage."

"Your love nest for Sam?"

"I can hardly let him stay at our house, can I? I plan to acquire a dog as well. Sam likes dogs." She paused for a moment, smoothing her silk robe. "Perhaps a Russian wolfhound."

"You don't think it will be too large?"

Maia shrugged. "Sam would prefer a large dog. Can you picture him with a toy terrier?"

"With ribbons? No, I don't think so."

"I'll name her Tatyana, in honor of Sasha."

Electra smiled tolerantly at her. Pushkin has long been Maia's favorite protégé. She'd bought a Russian wolfhound for him, too, keeping it at their country dacha. Was Maia equating Sam with Sasha? She'd taken Pushkin's death very hard. That could explain the depth of her infatuation.

Maia was gazing dreamily out the window. "Sasha expressed his love for me in Eugene Onegin. How will Sam?" She turned to regard Electra. "What about you, sister? What plans are you concocting?"

"I believe a trip to New York City is in order. I've heard of a promising young artist I may wish to cultivate."

"Let me guess. He wouldn't happen to have the initials N.C.?" Maia raised her glass to her and smiled. "Should we make a pact? No more dipping into their dreams until we've become physically intimate?"

"But this time, no cheating," Electra cautioned. Would Maia be able to control her appetite? For that matter, would she? From Maia's smile, she knew she was thinking the same thing.

#

"What is that?" Peter stared in amazement at the oblong rock Travis had placed on the table in the classroom. It was dark carmine red. One end was rounded and smooth as if it had been polished. "A bullet from the gods?"

He and El had arrived at the observatory that morning to find Neal, Travis, Mozzie, Janet, and the Winchesters gathered in the classroom.

"That's an apt description," Travis said. "This is an iron meteorite. The nose cone effect was caused by the surface melting when it hit our atmosphere. It was still warm to the touch when we found it. The odds are high it's one of the meteors we saw in the night sky on Tuesday."

"Early this morning we investigated the area where Neal spotted the vampire lovefest," Dean said. "We took our EMF meter along."

"What's an EMF meter?" El asked.

"It reads electromagnetic frequencies," Sam said, showing her his detector. "Anything that uses electricity emits some EMF but unusually high readings can indicate paranormal activity."

Mozzie broke in impatiently. "Get to the good stuff. When we arrived at the site—"

"—which is the same area where we'd found the fire orchids," Janet said, interrupting. "The flowers have vanished."

"Our EMF meter went off the charts," Sam said. "We've never seen anything like it."

"We inspected the area where the orchids were growing," Travis said. "A small impact crater was a couple of feet away. The meteorite had plunged about two feet into the ground. I've already alerted SETI. This could have come from the body that emitted the radio waves earlier."

Everyone began to speak at once, interrupting each other in their elation.

In the midst of the din, Bobby arrived. He took one look at the meteorite and sighed. "Didn't we already have enough to deal with?"

#

Bringing Bobby up to speed about the meteorite didn't take long, but finding out why he was so pissed was trickier. Dean scanned the assembled group. Since when do hunters operate in committees?

He and Sam were loners, not because they were forced to but because it was safer for everyone that way. Instead, here they were surrounded by a bunch of tenderfeet. The men, he could put up with them. And Janet had already met Dean the Dork, so he'd give her a pass. But Elizabeth insisted on being included too. So fine. If she couldn't sleep at night, she only had herself to blame.

"I heard back from a hunter in England," Bobby said. "I'd put out an alert on the anistemi. Told them to stop fooling around and check under every rock. Finnerty specializes in fangs. I talked with him this morning. He claims vampires are associated with some of the standing stones in England."

"You mean like Stonehenge?" Sam asked.

"That's right. Finnerty had also heard that pure-bloods can be created during certain stellar alignments. That partially confirms the Romanian account Stefan found. That so-called glowing torch Neal saw was probably a pure-blood. Maybe pure-bloods need time to gain their full strength. That could be why the vamps were moving slowly."

"And why they didn't attack me," Neal said.

Bobby nodded. "Ordinarily, being in a tree wouldn't have counted for squat against vampires. This bunch was more interested in being bodyguards."

"Does Finnerty have any other information about them?" Peter asked, taking notes.

"They're badass uber-vamps just like we thought. Supposedly they can charm their victims. Finnerty's heard tales that a pure-blood establishes a mini-kingdom—fiefdom I think he called it—where normal home-grown vamps serve him as lord and master. Finnerty claimed—and he didn't sound like he'd been dipping into the blue label Scotch— that the pure-bloods arise from flowers."

"I knew it!" Janet exclaimed triumphantly. "They were somehow formed from those orchids."

"Wacko as it sounds, you're probably right," Bobby acknowledged. "Finnerty read an account of an Irish medieval monk who supposedly witnessed it. He described blood-red flowers with the faces of vampires who transformed in a day to these pure-bloods."

Janet reached into her bag and pulled out her sketchbook. Thumbing through the pages, she stopped at an illustration and passed it to him. "What do you think?"

Bobby grimaced. "Yep, that looks like a vampire flower to me."

"Surely you can't believe that vampires sprang up from flowers?" El asked incredulously. "This sounds like a fairy tale that took a twisted turn into weird science-fiction."

Sam shrugged. "You'd be surprised at how much truth there is in some fairy tales."

Travis had been quiet throughout much of the exchange, a thoughtful look on his face. The dude always looked like he was pondering equations in his head. "We have to keep an open mind to any possibility." Dean restrained himself from any eye-rolling. That's just what a Vulcan G-Man would say. "Piecing together what we've learned so far, we're postulating that a deity by the name of Astrena casts a spell during the summer solstice that causes a meteor shower. When the resulting meteorites reach Earth, vampire flowers spring up and in a day turn into a special breed called pure-bloods."

"God help us, but that's it in a nutshell," Bobby agreed.

"You forgot the fireflies," Mozzie protested. "They predict the event."

Dean heard Peter mutter to El, "I'm glad you stayed. If I'd told you this, no way would you have believed me."

"Did you find out anything more about Astrena?" Sam asked.

Bobby grimaced. "Do you expect me to do everything for you? It's only been a couple of days."

"Prepare to be enlightened," Mozzie said. "While you were sleeping, I spent a productive night by connected to my server in New York. It's been a long time since I've had an excuse to peruse through the giants of Greek civilization. I found an obscure text by Hesiod which refers to Astrena. The text is in the library of an old monastery near Rome, Farfa Abbey. I was able to obtain a copy years ago for my private collection."

"What did Hesiod have to say?" Sam asked.

"In Hesiod's account of creation, out of the nothingness of the world which was known as Chaos emerged Gaia—also known as Earth—as well as several immortals. I find it fascinating that Eros—the god of love—was one of the first immortals. Another one is Erebus, the personification of darkness. Out of the union of Erebus with Nyx, the goddess of night, sprang several offspring, including Astrena. This is where it becomes particularly relevant for our purposes. Hesiod describes her as the goddess from whom sprang the ancient Greek equivalents of not just vampires but witches as well. "

Dean stared at him. "You're telling me she's the mother of both witches and vampires? She's the ultimate witch-pire?"

"Balls," Bobby muttered. "Could this get any worse?"

Mozzie nodded complacently. "Yes, I believe it can. After I read that passage, I contacted an acquaintance at the Vatican library. Charming man—quite the scholar on mythology and also a delightful drinking partner. It was morning in Rome, and he was thrilled to hear from me—a natural response. I asked him if he'd ever heard of Astrena. He said she's occasionally popped up in references to witches and vampires. During the Inquisition, some confessed under torture to having worshipped her. The most detailed account is that she has several so-called sisters. They weren't listed in the original Greek legends, but during the Renaissance, Jesuits believed Astrena had elevated several mortals to act as sisters. The Jesuits claimed the sisters were well-versed in potions and could even bewitch flowers."

"Are the sisters vampires?" Neal asked.

"Apparently not in the typical sense. They eat regular food but they have a taste for blood similar to our fondness for wine. The witch who died under torture claimed the sisters could enter minds psychically and feed on the creative energy inside. My contact promised to get back to me with more information. He's been personally interested in Astrena for quite a while. The Greeks believed she could suck out someone's life force. She was particularly known for preying on artists and poets."

"Neal, you've got that look on your face," Peter said. "What are you thinking?"

"You remember Scott Pembroke, that artist in Connecticut? He wasted away and appeared to be controlled by a witch. Could she have been Astrena or one of her sisters?"

"If that's true, does that mean those other artists on the walls of her office were her victims?" Peter asked. Dean was impressed that instead of blowing away the idea, he expanded on it.

"Were you able to find out anything about those paintings?" Sam asked.

Neal shook his head. "I never could find a reference for any of them. I can't prove they were lost genuine masterpieces, although that's what my eyes told me."

"Neal, you better be careful," Janet warned. "You're in a high-risk group."

"I'm a nobody," Neal scoffed. "Those were all famous artists. Astrena and her sisters wouldn't be interested in me."

"And they can't be interested in Sam and me," Dean said. "Even my stick figures laugh at me."

"You talk as if she's real, but these are all just myths and legends," El protested. "Astrena couldn't really exist."

Sam shrugged. "One person's myth is another person's religion. People believe in God, in Lucifer. Demons are real. Vampires and witches are real. I wouldn't rush to judgment."

"But it's not your problem. We'll deal with it." Dean stood up. "Camp's over. It's time to join the real world. We'll hang around at Bobby's a little while longer to make sure no fangs decided to make a permanent nest in the area then move on to the next job."

#

Dean helped Sam load his gear into the Impala. Bobby had just driven off in his pickup. Mozzie and Janet accompanied them out. Dean was amused to see how flustered Bobby looked when Janet hugged him. Like Dean, she realized Mozzie and Bobby were brothers from some decidedly weird mothers. Neal was one lucky dude to not only have the Burkes in his life but Mozzie and Janet too.

Dean razzed Sam a little about his camp experience, but all things considered, it had been a winner as far as he was concerned. Sam looked happier than he had in a long time. In honor of the moment, Dean vowed to lay off the teasing for a while. One day should be adequate.

He and Sam were stowing away the machetes when Peter stepped outside and thanked them for their help. That was nice. Thanks were rare in their business.

"It's what we do," Dean replied, keeping it casual. "You're in the free and clear. You can get back to your lives now."

"Look, if you need someone to . . . you know . . . give me a call." Peter looked increasingly uncomfortable. "I realize you have Bobby, but if he's not enough . . . You have a run-in with the law, I may be able to help smooth things over. Not that I'm encouraging you to get mixed up with police matters." Adopting a stern look and appearing much more at ease, he added, "No pretending to be FBI agents, no breaking of any rules—"

Dean grinned. "Gee, Peter. Are we having a kumbaya moment?"

"Bear hugs all around?" Sam suggested.

Peter chuckled. "I'll stop before I get in trouble."

Sam was still grinning as they drove off. "What did you make of that?"

"Peter going Papa Bear? I don't know, man." He glanced over at Sam. "I don't think anyone's gonna call you Baby Bear. Although, come to think of it . . . you do have a Goldilocks in your life now."

So much for a truce on teases. Sam could roll his eyes all he liked. After the ragging he'd subjected Dean to about Chloe, it was payback time. But Dean didn't want to torment Sam to the point he'd not call Maia. She lived in New Haven. Chloe was working in New Haven. He and Sam might need to hang out in the Northeast for a while. All these fangs running amok. Bobby staying here. Papa Bear Burke to bail them out of jail . . . Dean slapped in a cassette of "Glory Days," and stepped on the gas. Those camp t-shirts might have been a good luck charm, 'cause life was definitely looking up.

#

Peter turned away from the Impala to see Neal lounging by the observatory door.

"Did you ask them about Bigfoot?" he asked, an expression of total guilelessness on his face.

"You didn't tell them, did you?" Once in a weak moment, Peter had confided to Neal how his brother had tricked him into believing they'd found Bigfoot when Peter was a child. "That was supposed to stay a secret between the two of us."

"And it has," Neal quickly assured him. "No, I thought they might have run into the real thing. Vampires used to be legends. Now we know they're real. Will Bigfoot be next?"

Peter obliged with the groan he knew Neal was expecting. "Let's save Bigfoot for another road trip." This was one instance he was glad to be teased. It showed Neal wasn't still stressing about the previous night.

Peter wished he could say the same. Why did Neal have to be such a vampire magnet? The news about Astrena and her connection to artists was troubling. Neal didn't appear to be bothered by it, but Peter was. He remembered all too well how that witch in Connecticut had admired Neal. And those vampires sniffing at the base of the tree . . . Dean told him a vampire never forgets a scent.

On the plus side, Neal seemed to be feeling fine. He was eating well. And what would Peter do if Neal started to waste away? Call in a witch doctor? Ask Chloe to perform a spell on him? What kind of side effects would her spell have?

"Are you feeling okay?" Neal asked, looking at him curiously. "Too many pastries at breakfast?"

"Just a case of Neal-anxiety. You'll let me know if you start to feel puny?"

"Are you worried about Astrena? Do you want me to drop to the ground and do push-ups?"

"With everything's that been going on, you can't blame me for being concerned. You're the only artist at White Collar, so you get the full brunt of it."

"And I appreciate it, really. I promise that if I start to feel too weak to hold up a paintbrush, you'll be the first to know. This anxiety is just you missing your home turf. Too much fresh air can do a number on you."

"I'm not gonna argue with you on that. In fact, I'm thinking of swearing off road trips."

Neal frowned. "El won't like that. She enjoyed the inn. I bet she's already planning her next trip."

"In that case, she better check with the Winchesters first. Because wherever they are, I'll make sure we're heading in the opposite direction."

Notes: While Electra and Maia plot their next move, Neal and Peter head back to New York. Their next case is about to begin. In preparation, Peter has given the go-ahead to Diana to publish a new story in the Arkham Files series, The Crypt. This story contains subliminal messages from Peter to the cybercriminal Azathoth. The next story in the Caffrey Conversation series is Nocturne in Black and Gold. After that adventure, Neal and Peter will take another road trip in Dark Rabbit (Crossed Lines series).