Author: catstark

Though I really enjoy sharing parts of this book with you, I hope to have the full book out before the end of the year. The third and final book will be released quickly after that. I am not making the same mistake twice.

From Inside the Grey House:

“Why does this amuse you, old friend?” Vincent came around the desk, trying to hide his emotions.

“You’re used to getting things your way. You won’t with her. It’ll be interesting to watch.” He paused to take another sip of the fine brandy. “I wonder how much she’ll get away with?”

Vincent stared out the window, considering his friend’s words. He wanted to argue, but knew Joseph was right. He considered how much he had already done for the human, although he only met her four times. There was something about her, as there had been with the five other women he had had long relationships with. Something that caught his attention from the moment they met. He had taken it for granted that Natalia would stay with him after he freed her. Now, Joseph was telling him she wanted to stay, but as a human, not as a vampire. He wondered if it mattered.

Vincent treats everyone the same, no matter their status in his house.

From Inside the Grey House:

He moved again and Natalia found herself facing her vampire lover. One of his hands was around her back, the other wrapped lightly but firmly against her throat. “Make no mistake, human. If I don’t take you to my bed, it’s because I have no desire to rip you apart until you are able to recover from such massive damage. Understood?”

Natalia nodded, fear and curiosity shining in her eyes.

“Good.” He let her go and backed up a little. “Go change. You will be watching us fight tonight and for the rest of the week. At the end of the week, we will formulate rules for when you fight. After training, we will retire to our bedroom and spend some time alone. Agreed?”

She nodded; amazed he was able to change his mood so quickly. “You treat everyone the same way, don’t you? It doesn’t matter that I sleep with you. I disobeyed an order and you punished me. You didn’t give me any chance to talk my way out of it or sleep my way out of it and you never will.”

“Did you expect to be treated differently?”

Since this book is set in someone’s game world, and I don’t expect my readers to know the world fully, I do my best to describe what powers or abilities a creature has. I also try and explain what a type of creature is, if it has not been seen in mainstream culture.

From Inside the Grey House:

“I’m a Slayer. I hear the Angels and I kill Hellspawn for God at His request. I wasn’t able to hear you because we’re only alerted to the comings and goings of Hellspawn. I have also sworn to protect humans from the truth in the darkness. Though not all of my brethren care for the human race, I do. I recognize that we all begin as humans and are tainted or blessed as needed. Because of my self-appointed role, I’m able to tell when a human is nearby, to ensure that I don’t expose them to the truth. You, you are neither fully human nor tainted by Hellspawn. I would accuse you of being nothing, but that wouldn’t be the truth. You are the One Walking the Edge, and I’m not able to predict where you will fall.”

“And you’re telling me this, because?”

“You would have figured it out on your own eventually.”

“What does this all mean? Can the other Slayers sense me?”

He tried to hide the answer, but she saw it in his eyes and drew back in surprise. She whispered the answer.

“You don’t know.” The implication made her skin tingle. This knowledge opened up whole new avenues for her. Since joining Vincent’s house, she had assumed she would be a known vampire’s woman and approached Slayers thinking they knew she was Hellspawn. Jeffery’s story showed her that they might not know her, might not even see her. It meant she could approach Slayers for knowledge and possibly not kill them, possibly use them instead, leaving them alive until she was done with them.

From Inside the Grey House:

The woman turned when she saw Natalia jumping toward her. As she was now the only true target, the girl aimed the bottle at her. It landed on Natalia’s outstretched arms. She closed her eyes to slits as the smell of garlic hit her. The oil, if made right, could blind a human. Since Dean was amongst the group, Natalia knew the oil would be potent. She slammed into the Slayer, opened her eyes, drew her hand back and punched the woman in the face. The girl brought the water bottle up and tried to spray her in the face. Natalia slammed the girl’s hand down on the floor, using more force than necessary. She was used to fighting vampires. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement and remembered the wooden stake in the girl’s other hand. A foot landed on that wrist before the Slayer could do anything against her.

While searching for something to share, I realized I wanted to revisit a chapter in The Grey House (book one). This chapter is about Carlos, a mage in Vincent’s employment, but it shows a lot about Vincent as well.
Vincent follows his own rules. He rewards loyalty with everything he has. He rewards betrayals with just as much enthusiasm. I’ve thought about exploring Carlos a bit more, as his story intrigues me. Not sure I will though. Lots of paths and stories to follow in my head.

Without further ado, Chapter Six from The Grey House:

Carlos sat on the couch at the far end of the small meeting room, waiting for Vincent. It was a comfortable room with plenty to keep his eyes busy. Vincent kept historical artifacts, books and maps of the world from many centuries in this room. Were he not so tired, Carlos would be sifting through the maps, plotting his long overdue vacation. Instead he sat on the overstuffed leather couch and tried not to fall asleep.

The mage rose from his seat when Vincent entered, too tired to make sure his shirt was tucked into his jeans. Both men looked haggard, dirty, and ready to start the day over. The vampire looked the man up and down. He took in Carlos’ small stature without really thinking about it. Vincent felt it was always best to know with whom he were dealing with. He always scrutinized those he was speaking with, including those he knew well. The small Latino man looked wearily at his boss with his dark eyes and ran a shaking hand through his dark already unruly hair. When Vincent indicated Carlos should take a seat at the desk, the mage sagged into the chair. Vincent went to the side bar to pour himself and Carlos some brandy. He handed the mage a glass as he sat on the edge of the maple desk.

Carlos took the glass willingly, swirling the dark liquid, warming it. He looked up at the vampire who loomed above him and raised the glass in a toast. They clinked glasses and Carlos downed his drink, while Vincent sipped at his.

A shudder gripped Carlos as liquid fire rushed down to his stomach. The tremor passed and he placed the glass on the desk. “You shouldn’t have wasted your good brandy on me tonight.”

Vincent swirled the liquid and took a sip. “Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

“Then it wasn’t wasted.” He stood and walked to the other side of the desk. “How long has your family been in my debt Carlos?”

“Five generations.” There was a tinge of disbelief in his voice, of something said so often, it couldn’t possibly be the truth.

“Five generations is a long time for a family to be in debt to a vampire. Yet here you are. You have proven yourself a worthy mage, and a worthy ally. I have always found that mages make good allies and have considered your family’s debt to me quite an asset. I feel it would be a shame to lose you. You’ve paid off your debt in full, but I would like to retain you. That’s why I’m offering you a permanent place on my payroll. My resources would be open to you and you would be able to improve your skills beyond your knowing. What do you say?”

Carlos looked at him in disbelief then bent forward and hung his head. After a moment of silence, he got up and walked to the window. This side of the house faced woods; there was nothing to look at but the reflection of the room. Carlos looked at Vincent’s reflection and found it fitting that the vampire’s reflection was distorted.

“I want out, Vincent. I never wanted to be a mage in the first place. My mother foisted the responsibility upon me. She told me the story when I was very young. I didn’t really understand what was going on. When I had to come home every day from school and learn spells, instead of playing with my friends, I started to understand how serious this debt was.”

Carlos turned, crossed his arms and sat on the window ledge, looking at a point somewhere between himself and the wall behind the vampire. “High school was worse. I wanted to join clubs, sports teams, anything, just to not have to practice. That was when my mother told me the whole story; of how much you’ve done for my family since the debt started. She said that we had the house because of you. She only had to work part time because of you.”

He looked at Vincent. “I started to wonder why. I threw myself into magic just to be able to maybe repay you for what you did for us, not what you did for an ancestor. Then I started wondering if you were helping us to keep us in debt. So now I need to know. What will it take to get me out of your debt?”

Vincent leaned back, slowly swirling his glass. “You are out of debt. Your life is your own. You may do with it as you please.”

Carlos doubted the sincerity behind the words. “How? How can my family possibly be out of your debt? And how do I know you won’t kill me like you killed your three bouncers?”

Vincent kept swirling the glass taking small sips of the fine brandy. “They betrayed me, you did not. I repay betrayal with death and torture. I repay loyalty in a much different way.” He stood, placed his glass on the desk and walked over to Carlos. “Do you really believe I would repay loyalty with disdain?”

“I don’t understand why you helped us. We were in your debt.”

Vincent turned to the window and watched the wind move through the trees. The glare from the lights in the room barely hindered his sight. He drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “It’s obvious you never truly understood the loyalty of your family.” Vincent turned, sat on the window’s edge and looked toward the map over his desk. The map was so old it still showed where the world stopped, stating ‘Hic Sunt Dracones’. He folded his arms, then regarded Carlos. “Do you not understand how easy it would have been for your family to end the debt without re-paying it?”

Carlos looked at Vincent with a blank expression on his face.

“Obviously not. Your ancestor was an only child. No family, no wife, no aunts, uncles, cousins. Just himself. After I helped him, he vowed to repay me, found a wife, had a child and passed on the debt. Each generation has had one child, just enough to keep the debt repayable.”

Vincent paused and walked to his desk. He unlocked and opened a drawer. He pulled out a small lock box, opened it, pulled out an envelope, and put the box back. “It would have been very easy for your ancestors to end the debt. Any of them could have ended it without paying it back. All they would have had to do was not have children or kill themselves. But generation after generation, your family made sure there was someone to pass the debt on to. It showed me the amount of loyalty your family had. And as I said, I repay loyalty.”

Vincent placed the envelope at the opposite edge of the desk. Carlos stepped forward and saw his name on the envelope. He picked it up and opened it. Inside was a folded bank statement. He could see his name on the exposed half. Hands shaking, he opened it and looked at the ending balance, then at Vincent, then at the ending balance. Carlos backed away from the desk, tried to sit in the chair, but missed and fell to the floor. Vincent chuckled as he rounded the desk and helped the mage to stand up.

“Why?”

“I repay loyalty.” Vincent placed Carlos in a chair.

“I can’t accept this, Vincent.”

“Don’t upset me Carlos. I don’t like being denied.”

Vincent’s voice had a hard edge to it and Carlos heard it. He looked at the statement again, folded it and put it back in the envelope.

“All right. Thank you, Vincent. You don’t know what this means.” He stood and took the offered hand. The mage was almost to the door before the vampire spoke again.

“If you have children and one happens to take up the arts, send them my way.”

Carlos looked back at Vincent. He was sitting on his large desk again. Could he really deny this man a promise? “I will, sir.”

Vincent watched the mage leave, upset to lose Carlos. The money didn’t matter, not when put against five generations of loyalty. Having a mage in his debt had been ideal. It would have been pleasant to have one on his payroll. He hoped he could find another one, but knew it was near impossible to find one that would work for a vampire in this city right now. Vincent sighed and sipped his brandy, waiting to hear from Joseph.

His friend called an hour later with the news. Markus was still human, but Edwin had been trying to seduce him to his side. Markus, happy with his current boss, kept denying the vampire. Joseph, wanting to keep the human safe, had placed him on Vincent’s private jet. Markus was being sent to New York. It was safer for him there. Vincent’s sire, Lorraine, ran the city and was always happy to shelter Vincent’s friends, especially of the male variety. Although Vincent was glad Markus was safe, he was rather perturbed. He was losing two of his most loyal people on the same night. It left him with a bad taste in his mouth.

I think the last line I’m sharing today is one of my favorite lines in the trilogy. Vincent is a lot of things. Loyal is one of them. The dynamic between Vincent and his werewolves transcends this trilogy. I am writing another book right now, which also has supernatural critters, where a vampire family is fiercely loyal to werewolves. I like that camaraderie. Or maybe I just like when people are good to each other in general.

From Inside the Grey House:

“I’d like to go with her, until she sends me back.” Rebecca’s mom hadn’t been able to stand her husband in the last two months of pregnancy and he had been too much of a risk at that point as well. Charlie was warned it could be the same with him.

“Will you go to Montana?” Vincent owned 60 acres of private, secure and secluded land in Montana. Rebecca’s parents had retired there.

“With your permission.”

Vincent reached his hand out to the Alpha of his werewolves. When Rebecca took his offered hand, he stepped forward, brought her hand to his lips and kissed her hand. “Go with speed and goodwill, werewolf. Your family will have a home with me for as long as the line is sown.”

“And my family will continue to serve you, vampire, for as long as your blood stays true.”

I like inventing things. I just do it with words.

From Inside the Grey House:

The reality of the sword slowly seeped into her being as she looked around. With the sword, she could kill all the vampires in the house, in the city, probably in the world. She was pretty sure the sword had been made by the Order of Light in the 16^th century. The Order of Light had been a group of priests, monks and mages who decided they needed a little bit more help against vampires. The Order of Light was based in Siberia. They created swords and trinkets to help in the fight against Hellspawn. This sword was magic and seemed to have the same effect as sunlight on vampires. The blade simply had to cut the vampire in order to kill the creature. As far as Natalia knew, this relic was the only one left from the Order of Light’s magical arsenal. It was an extremely dangerous weapon and had to be hidden from Vincent’s enemies.

I had insomnia last night/this morning and read some old stuff. I decided to share an unfinished story with you. This story annoys me as I like it, but CAN’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENS NEXT. And I’d like to finish it. Feel free to comment on it. Yes, there will be typos.

Here it is:

The wind blew hard, knocking the branches in the trees and on the ground. The leaves protested in their quiet way, brushing against each other and creating an almost shushing sound. The wrought iron gate creaked and moaned as it was forced open. It banged loudly against itself then sprung back and clanged closed. The owl screeched loudly in the trees and flew off as a dark presence alighted on the wooden porch.

Inside the kitchen a young woman stirred some soup in the large pot and turned her head sharply as the wind blew something against the house. She pulled the wooden spoon out of the pot and headed to the window to see what was going on. As she reached the window, a loud knocking came from her kitchen door. She jumped, the scowled as she yanked the door open.

Before her stood a tall, lanky crimson creature, with long horns that curled down the back of its head. His black eyes stared at her. He reached out with his claws and caressed her cheek.

She slapped his hand with her wooden spoon.

He pulled his hand back. “Ow.”

“Get inside. Someone might see you.”

He grumbled, but did as told. He had to duck to enter the kitchen, as he was taller than the doorway. Once inside, he turned to his mistress and waited. She spared him a glare and went back to the stove.

“You hungry?”

He gave himself a more human appearance and sat down at the round kitchen table. “I am. What’s cooking?”

“Lamb stew. Use all the bits.”

“That’s a small pot.”

She gave a short laugh. “You always say that.” She turned to look at him. He was still tall, but instead of being crimson, was pale white with a smattering of freckles across his crooked nose. His green eyes flashed mischief as he ran a hand through his red hair. “What do you have for me?”

“Someone did curse you.”

“And?”

“With one of our boys.”

Her eyes grew wide and she placed her hand on her chest. “Someone cursed me with one of MY boys?”

“Yep.” He leaned back and slipped his feet onto one of the other chairs.

“Wow. Do you know who?”

“Who cursed you? No, haven’t found that out yet, but I did catch the one she cursed you with.”

“Who?”

“Frank.”

She rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you should give me his real name. Ten of you go by the name ‘Frank.’ I have no idea why you demons think it’s a good name.”

“The Lover’s Demon.”

“Oh good Lucifer, help me.” She shook her head. “Really? Someone who can summon demons and curse people used THAT one? But he’s so useless.”

The demon who called himself Bishop shrugged. “He’s in a cage out back. I have a couple others watching him.” He held his hands up to stop her triad. “They’re hidden. I used a spell.”

“Fine. Take him downstairs. Then you can eat.”

He rolled his eyes, but left the room quickly in a puff of crimson smoke. In a moment, there was a large noise in the cellar. She shook her head, but prepared three bowls of stew. By the time she was done, the kitchen seemed filled with hungry demons scurrying to the table. They were all in human form, but she could still see their true bodies. She was their mistress, their leader, and no matter what could identify them on sight. As they settled in and thanked her, she left the kitchen for the cellar.

The cellar has more rooms then this house could actually have. It was bigger down here. Each room belonged to a demon that she had power over. Some of the demons were free to go as they pleased. Others were chained, some were in cages, depending on their current status. She went quickly to the room where the Lover’s Demon waited. He was in a cage that was smaller than his demon form. It hung from the ceiling on a very thick rope. It made him look huge and tiny at the same time.

Frank looked at her with sad, sad eyes. His horns kept hooking onto the bars as he tried to look around. He whimpered. “I’m sorry, mistress. You know once I’ve been summoned through a curse, I can’t back away.”

“And you know that if one of mine are used in a curse, they are to report to me immediately, especially if they are used to curse someone I know. Did you not think this applied to your mistress?”

He cowered from her, making the cafe swing away from her. It swung closer to her and she grabbed the bars. He shied away from her hand. “Mistress…”

“No. You are not to speak unless it is to tell me who did this to me? Who defies me and tries to use one of my own against me?”

“She is no one.”

“What grants her the power of demons?”

“Gypsy blood.”

“Damnation!”

Gypsies were the only humans granted permission to curse people, to really curse other humans. They outwitted a few too many demons and were seen as grudging allies rather than pests. There were other humans that could summon demons and use them for curses, but only gypsies were respected for this act. It meant she could not simply track the person down and kill them. Miariam had to go talk to the gypsy and find out what she did to offend her.

“Damnation. And I was having so much fun here!” She looked the Lover’s Demon up and down as it continued to try to cower from her. “You can’t tell me who did this?”

“No, mistress.” It sounded unsure of why she asked.

A chilling smile came to her face. “Well, I’ll just have to torture it out of you.”

His mouth dropped. “No, mistress! Please I beg you!”

“That’s not the last screech you’ll make tonight.”

She smiled as she advanced. The demon screamed long into the night.

                                                            *****

Miariam fell into the couch, an exasperated sigh escaping her lips. Bishop, in human form, moved closer and licked a bit of blood off her cheek. There was blood splattered in her hair, on her face and down the front of her shirt. She shoved him away before he could lick anything else.

“Did you have fun?”

“No.” She thought about it for a moment. “Well, I mean, yes, but I didn’t get much. I have coordinates.”

“Would you like me to go?”

“No.” She sounded as if she wanted to say yes. “She’s a gypsy. I’ve pretty much been summoned. I swear, if it’s some kid trying things out, I’m not going to be happy.”

“I can come with you. Teach the brat a thing or two.”

She shook her head. “Not giving them more ammunition. If they see a demon, they can learn its name and use it for curses. I don’t want to give them more than they have.”

He frowned at her. “Can they use you for curses?”

“Demons can be used for curses, not devils.”

“I thought they could. I’ve heard of it happening.”

“Very low level demons. Very, very powerful human. Almost never happens. If we’re used in curses, its usually another devil that asked us to do them a favor.”

“Ah.” He reached out to caress her arm. “How long before you have to leave?”

“Need to be there at midnight. What time is it?”

He made an annoyed noise. “11:30.”

She got up from the couch and shook her body. In a moment, she had clean clothing. There was not a trace of blood left on her skin or hair either. “See you tomorrow morning.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yes. I’ll be back. Take care of things until then.”

He stood and bowed to her. “Yes, mistress.”

Miariam caressed his cheek and vanished.

                                                            *****

The room smelled heavily of incense. She could see numerous candles flickering in the smoke. Miariam took a deep breath and smiled slightly. She could detect the faintest whiff of brimstone. The devil stepped forward and bowed to the old gypsy woman laying in the sick bed.

“Greetings. May your death be quick.”

“Quick? Ha! It’s taken enough time to come. Tell it to hurry!”

The others in the room, mourners praying for her, frowned at the old woman. One even tried to come closer, but she waved them all away and yelled at them in Romanian. They settled in their seats and continued to pray. Miariam moved closer.

“Why have I been cursed?”

“Your first assumption was correct.” She coughed a bit, but calmed and looked back to Miariam. “It is the only way I know to summon you, Messanger.”

Miariam, Messenger of Devil’s bowed low. The others in the room were starting to act up again. The devil spared her a look and the old woman yelled at the others to leave the room. They looked to her as if they didn’t understand. This was possibly her last hour on this planet. They had to pray for her until the last moment, to ensure her soul went to heaven. To leave now was risking much. The old woman scolwed at her family and let fly a string of words said in a very, very old language. The older ones gasped, grabbed the younger ones and fled the room.

“That’s better. Now my dear, please sit.”

Miariam took tentative steps toward a chair, never taking her eyes off the old woman. “That is an old language. Noe many humans know it.”

“I was given the knowledge of that languge when I bested a certain devil.”

Miariam sat in the chair and locked eyes with the old woman. She exhaled slowly. “What do you want?”

“Long ago, when I was still young, I made a pact, bested a devil and angered him beyond reason. He had to hold his part of the bargain, but was very angry with him. I told him I would make it up to him, if he could best me at a game. He argreed, but I won. This went on for quite some time until he gathered all his power and threatened to kill all my family. I goaded him and told him he would never dare.”

The old woman stopped for a moment and looked off into the distance. She took a deep, slow breath before looking at Miariam. “He killed my youngest son. He let me experience his death. It is the worst thing I have ever had to endure in my long, long life.”

Miariam was sitting on the edge of her chair, listening intently. She was beginning to undderstand who this woman was.

“I begged the devil for mercy and realized I had not beted him; my vicories were hallow. The devil would never hold to anything he said. I fell to my knees and offered him my first born. He turned angrily to me and told me that my first born was already dead. He was right. I told him that if he honored everything I won, on the day I died I would give him the first born of my first born.”

“It’s you. I can’t believe it’s you.” Miarim

The idea of becoming a vampire flits through my mind every once in a while. I have yet to decide if that is something I would want. Watching your loved ones die is not an easy thing. But not having MS and making new friends for an eternity and seeing how things change in the world? That might be nice.

From Inside the Grey House:

The words resounded in his ears, making him tense with pleasure. He crushed her to him, giving her a hard kiss. There was no room for breath as his tongue plunged into her mouth to caress her tongue. He felt her hands on his back, digging in, trying to claw his back through his clothing. He pulled away, wanting to see her eyes.

“Would endless death be such a terrible thing?” His hand was caressing her jaw line, then traveled down to her neck.

She looked into his frank blue eyes, thinking about what she thought as she lay bleeding on the floor of his club. “What happens wh-if you change me?”

I love San Francisco architecture. I probably don’t do it justice, but I tried. Also, Google Maps is so great in filling in the gaps in my memory.

From Inside the Grey House:

Julia nodded and opened the door for him. The house was in Noe Valley. As with most of San Francisco, the houses were right next to each other. Most homes looked like they shared walls. Long before prices grew out of hand in the area, Anthony purchased three houses right next to each other. He lived in the middle house, and his humans lived in the ones to each side. They built connecting doorways and short tunnels to allow humans to visit without being seen by nosy neighbors. It worked well enough, but Anthony knew at some point, he would need to change things up.

“You’re deep in thought, aren’t you?”

Anthony drew himself out of his thoughts and saw they were in his study. “I suppose. Were you talking to me?”

“I asked if you needed to feed.”

He shook his head as he sat down. “Not just yet.”

She pulled out her cell. “I’ll text and let them know.”