"Hysterically funny and surprisingly realistic for a paranormal tale."
Reviewed by Vicky Gilpin
Posted October 18, 2010
Romance Paranormal
Knowing you are the Beloved of a Dark One, destined to save
the soul of and be romantically linked with a lusty vampire
for eternity, would be great, right? Although not strictly
a normal human herself, Fran was first thrust into her role
as a Beloved when she was a teenager, and she quailed from
what seemed like the iron bands of Fate tying her to one
destiny. She asked for "space" from her ancient vampire
paramour in order to make her own decisions.
However, with re-incorporealized Viking ghosts foisted upon
her to help her defeat Loki, a foiled kidnapping attempt,
and fears that her mother has been stolen or bewitched,
Fran's "space" time may be running out. She has to go back
to GothFaire and face her friends and her sexy vampire,
Benedikt. However, this fresh and fun adventure has circles
within circles of plot intricacies, and Fran has to unravel
them before she can figure out what is going on, where her
mother's gone, and what to do about being a Beloved,
particularly as her reunion with Benedikt wasn't quite what
she had prepared herself for.
A continuation of GOT FANGS and Circus of the Darned
(part of CONFESSIONS OF A VAMPIRE'S GIRLFRIEND), IN THE
COMPANY OF VAMPIRES provides an excellent read even for
those who have not read Katie MacAlister (or her
pseudonym Katie Maxwell)'s books. Hysterical and
surprisingly realistic, considering it includes witches,
deities, vampires and Viking ghosts, IN THE COMPANY OF
VAMPIRES delivers a great story and excellent
characterization.
SUMMARY
When Francesca arrives at GothFaire to save her mother from
the trickster god, Loki, things go from bad to worse. Her
immortal ex, Benedikt, is there, full of secrets-and with a
new girlfriend. Now Fran must battle a power-hungry group
who wishes to dominate both the immortal and mortal
worlds-and the woman who claimed Ben's heart. It's a good
thing Fran's no ordinary mortal...
ExcerptPrologue
Fran, the wind whispered.
My mother’s voice was just
as distant as the wind. "Honestly, Fran, I have no idea
what you thought
you were doing—"
I tuned her out to listen as
hard as I could for the elusive sound that flirted on the
edges of my
awareness.
Fran.
It was Ben. I knew it was Ben,
and he needed my help. Desperately. I ran into the darkness
to find
him, the nightmare recreating an event that somewhere in my
brain I
recognized had actually happened, but this version of it
was twisted
by both the passing of time and my own tormented emotions.
The moon was out, but its illumination
did not reach through the dense forest. I dodged skeletal
branches of
trees as they tried to snatch at my hair and clothing.
I’m coming, Ben! I will
save you!
Too . . . late . . .
Desperation filled me, both
mine at the need to find him, to help him, and that which
he was pouring
into me: the knowledge that I wouldn’t be there in time.
Sobs of pure frustration caught
in my throat as I battled my way through the eerily
grabbing tree branches
until at last I saw a dark shape slumped up against a dead
tree.
Ben!
He wore the tattered remains
of a leather jacket, his shirt completely gone, his face,
arms, and
torso stained dark with a crisscross pattern of blood
oozing up from
deep slashes. As I ran toward him, his body slumped to the
side.
Too . . . late . . .
I screamed in wordless horror
as he died in front of me, the sound echoing in my head
until I woke,
drenched with sweat, from the nightmare.
"Nightmare again?" came
a sleepy voice from the other side of the room.
I swallowed back the fear that
clutched my throat. "Yes. Sorry I woke you."
"’Sokay. Just stress. G’back
to sleep."
"I will, thanks."
I turned my pillow over to
the cool side, my heart as sick as my stomach. It wasn’t
just the
stress of my job that had given me the nightmare. I was
having them
more and more frequently, making me all that more desperate
to escape
my life.
I laid back down, and prayed
for dreamless sleep.
Chapter One
"And I said to her, look,
you don’t own me, okay? Yes, we have incredibly hot sex,
but there’s
more to a relationship than just that. And she said that
she just wanted
to be with me, and couldn’t live without me, and all sorts
of things
like that. Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to have your
girlfriend
want you and all, but there’s such a thing as stifling
someone! There
are times when I think you’re so lucky, Fran. You have no
idea what
it’s like to be in a relationship that’s doomed from the
very start."
I stared blankly at the sidewalk,
my heart contracting at Geoff’s words. She was a remarkably
pretty
girl despite her masculine name (she said her parents
didn’t believe
in conforming to traditional gender roles), with shoulder-
length black
hair and cute freckles. Although we’d been roomies for
almost a year,
I was still a bit startled by her lack of awareness.
"You tell your boyfriend
you want some space, and poof! He gives you space. You see
him, what,
once a year? And the rest of the time he leaves you alone
to do whatever
you want. Now that’s a mature relationship. Do you have a
couple of
bucks I can borrow? I don’t get paid until Friday."
"He’s not really my boyfriend."
I reached into my jeans pocket for my Starbucks card,
handing it to
her as she stopped at the walk-up latte window and ordered
a latte and
an Americano.
"Thanks, Fran, you’re a
doll. What were we talking about? Oh, your boyfriend.
You’re so lucky
with him."
"He’s just a guy I know.
Used to know."
"Your setup is perfect,"
Geoff said with blithe disregard. "He’s in Europe, and
you’re
here, doing your own thing. No one on your back all the
time, telling
you what to do. No one demanding that you stop what you’re
doing to
pay attention to her. No one pressuring you with drama
queen scenes
saying she will die if you’re not right there for her. I
envy you,
Fran, I really do."
I accepted the latte she handed
me, following as she led the way down the street toward the
old redbrick
building where we shared a third-floor apartment, each step
causing
my soul to cry a little more. I ached to tell her the
truth, but had
decided when I first met her that she would never
understand. Her feet
were too firmly planted in the everyday world. How could I
explain to
her that my former boyfriend was a vampire?
"I told Carmen that I needed
a little space, too, but you know what she did? Started
cutting herself."
Geoff’s cell phone burbled. She pulled it out as she
continued to
talk. "Like I don’t have enough of my own emotional issues
that
I have to deal with hers, too? Do you have any idea what a
stress it
is to be bisexual these days? My therapist says I’m just
asking for
trouble, but what does she know. Oh, great, it’s the drama
queen again.
This is like the fiftieth time she’s texted me today. I had
to turn
off my phone in surgery because she wouldn’t stop sending
me messages,
and Dr. Abbot said she was going to end up pulling some
poor dog’s
tooth instead of cleaning it if my phone made her jump just
one more
time."
I murmured something noncommittal.
We stopped in front of the
residents’ door at the side of the building. The first
floor
was taken up by a bookstore, one of my favorite places to
spend time.
"My hands are full, Fran. Can you get your keys?"
I set my latte on the large metal mailbox that was attached
to the building
and hunted through the backpack I used as a bag for my
keys, my fingers
groping blindly in its depths.
"I tell you, if I could,
I’d trade Carmen for your Brent any day."
"Ben," I corrected, his
name bringing another little zap of pain to my chest. "He’s
not
mine. You can have him."
"He’s like the ideal man,
leaving you alone except for when you want him. If I was
into guys as
much as girls, and I’m not because some men are okay, but
most of
them have way too many issues for me, then I’d definitely
give you
a run for your money with him. But I’m not, so you don’t
have to
worry."
"That’s reassuring,"
I murmured, the tiniest of smiles making an appearance as I
pulled out
a couple of paperbacks in order to grope around the bottom
of my backpack.
If there was one thing I knew about Ben, it was that he
wasn’t looking
for another woman.
At least I didn’t think he
was. I frowned, thinking about the last time I’d spoken to
him. It
was the last and biggest in a series of arguments, and he’d
sounded
so distant and cold. . . .
"I’m loyal that way. It’s
one of the reasons why we’re such good roomies. Because
seriously,
there are some weirdoes out there you can get stuck with.
And you’re
just as normal as they come." She glanced toward my
hands. "Well,
almost as normal as they come. But you know, hey, everyone
has their
little quirks, right? And I can definitely put up with you
being a tiny
bit paranoid about germs and insisting on wearing latex
gloves all the
time. It doesn’t bother me at all. It’s probably good,
actually,
given all the colds and flus that go around nowadays, and
if you want
to look like a goth by wearing black lace gloves over the
latex ones
. . . well, that’s no big deal, either. My last roomie was
into that
Lolita crap, and you looking a bit gothy is a big
improvement on that,
let me tell you! Although you don’t really look goth
anymore since
you cut your hair and dyed it auburn—"
I frowned harder into the blackness
of my bag, still not finding my keys, so frustrated by that
fact, it
took me a few seconds to realize that Geoff wasn’t talking
anymore.
I looked around, my eyes opening in surprise as a large man
in black
overalls shoved Geoff into a van.
"Goddess!" I yelled, dropping
my backpack to run toward them. "Stop that! Help! Someone
help! My
friend is being kidnapped!"
"Mmrph!" Geoff said, the
man’s hand over her mouth. Her eyes were filled with panic
as she
struggled. A second man was in the back of the van,
grabbing her legs
as she tried to kick the first guy.
"Help!" I screamed again,
but the street, normally filled with shoppers, was
strangely devoid
of anyone else. It was up to me to save Geoff. Without
thinking, I leaped
forward as the driver of the van gunned the engine,
throwing myself
into the back of the van on top of Geoff and the first man,
who was
in the process of slamming shut the door.
"Let go of her," I growled,
curling my fingers into a fist the way Ben had showed me
all those years
ago. "Or you’re going to be really, really sorry!"
"You’ll be the one who
is sorry," the man said in a heavy Scandinavian accent, his
eyes holding
a red light that warned me he wasn’t a common, average
kidnapper.
"The master seeks this one. Begone."
Before I could land the punch
I was about to make, the man threw his weight against me,
sending me
flying backward. Frantic to keep from falling, I grabbed at
him, but
it did little good. All I got was a necklace the man had
been wearing
before I tumbled out of the van, hitting the street hard
enough to knock
me silly for a few seconds. When I looked up, trying
desperately to
clear my vision, the street was empty.
"The master," I repeated,
getting painfully to my feet and hobbling over to the
sidewalk. I’d
heard someone refer to the master five years ago. "Oh, no,
it couldn’t
be him. What on earth does he want with Geoff? It’s me he
swore to
get revenge against!"
I looked down at the necklace
in my hand. Because of my gloves, I couldn’t feel anything
other than
the weight of the gold chain. I should have called the
police and reported
an abduction. I should have screamed until someone came to
help me.
I should have let someone with power get Geoff back. I
should have .
. .
"Bloody boiling bullfrogs!"
I snarled, ripping off one of my black lace gloves and the
thin latex
glove beneath it, taking a deep breath. If it really was
who I thought
it was behind the kidnapping, the police wouldn’t be able
to help
at all, which meant it was up to me to find out who was
behind the abduction
of Geoff.
The second my bare hand touched
the chain, my head was filled with images, a variety of
faces that I
didn’t recognize, a confusing jumble of women in old-
fashioned outfits
with bodices and long skirts, of men riding horses across a
coastline,
waving swords and yelling at the top of their lungs, and of
a big structure
burning while screams ripped into the night.
"And if that doesn’t say
Loki at work a millennium ago, then I don’t know what
does," I growled
a minute later, stuffing the necklace into my pocket as I
pulled on
my gloves again, hurrying down the road to a busy cross
street. I hesitated
at the bus stop, knowing time was of the essence. If the
emotions I’d
felt on the kidnapper’s necklace was right—and I had no
reason to
doubt my psychometric abilities—then he and his buddies
were planning
on hustling Geoff to the airport in a few hours. I had
little time to
make it to the warehouse they were using before she was out
of my reach.
"This situation calls for
a little splurging. After all, if you can’t spend a little
mad money
when your roomie is kidnapped, when can you?" I muttered to
myself
as I hunted down a cab. I finally found one and gave the
driver instructions
on where to go. "I don’t know the address, but I do know
it’s
on Knowles Street. Big warehouse with the picture of a
penguin painted
on the side."
"Sounds like the old Icy
Treats place," she said, punching in a couple of buttons on
her laptop
before pulling out into traffic. "Shouldn’t take us long to
get
there."
Fifteen minutes later we pulled
up a half block away. I looked at the warehouse, worried
that we were
too late, but no, there was the nose of a black van just
barely visible
from behind an industrial-sized trash bin. I glanced back
at the cab,
gnawing on my lower lip for a second. "Um . . . how much
would it
cost for you to wait here for me?"
"How long will you be?"
the driver asked me. She had bright yellow hair—not blond,
actual
yellow—and so many piercings on her head I couldn’t count
them all.
"I don’t know. Maybe ten
minutes?"
She named a figure. "But
you’ll have to pay me what you owe me now. I’m not allowed
to let
customers leave without paying."
I flinched at the amount she
mentioned, but gave a mental shrug as I pulled out some
cash, thrusting
it toward her. "Wait for me. I’ll be as quick as I can."
"Ten minutes. After that,
I leave," she said, getting out of her cab to lean a hip
against it.
"I need a smoke anyway."
I nodded and hurried behind
the trash bin, peering around it in the very best James
Bond "sneaking
up on kidnappers" manner. No one was in the van, and
although
the warehouse had windows, they were boarded up. I prayed
they had no
sort of high-tech security system as I dashed to a small
door along
the wall, pausing to snatch up a big piece of metal pipe
that was lying
near the trash bin. I weighed it for a couple of seconds,
trying to
decide if I could actually bring myself to use it, but the
memory of
the stark horror in Geoff’s eyes had me clutching it
tight. "You
are going to be one sorry god if she’s hurt," I snarled
under
my breath.
The door creaked a little when
I opened it a few inches, making me flinch and hold my
breath, but no
sound emerged from the warehouse, and nothing met my gaze
as I peeked
in. Sending a little prayer to the god and goddess my
mother always
swore would always protect me, I slid inside, braced for an
outcry or
attack.
The warehouse was mostly empty,
a huge old building filled with a whole lot of black, and a
few faint
rustling noises that I took to be rodents. I wasn’t
particularly afraid
of rats and mice, finding the two-legged variety much more
worrisome.
But the relative quiet of the warehouse worried me. Was I
too late?
Had the men taken Geoff off in another car?
The faintest murmur of male
voices had me stiffening as I turned to the right, where
the vaguely
black shape of a staircase loomed. I gripped my piece of
pipe and started
up the stairs, blindly feeling my way up each step, moving
slowly and
carefully so as not to alert anyone to my presence.
By the time I neared the top
of the stairs, the sounds of voices were much clearer. I
flattened myself
against the steps and eased up my head to see how many of
them there
were. In a small oval pool of bluish white light, three men
stood around
another person, who had been tied to a chair.
Three against one. Not very
good odds. But I wasn’t about to let Loki take my roomie.
With another
deep breath, I lifted my pipe and flung myself up the last
couple of
stairs, yelling a one-word spell of protection that my
mother had insisted
I learn. "Salvatio!"
The first man dropped before
I even realized that I had swung my pipe at his head.
"Oh my god!" Geoff screamed
as I stood stunned for a second, staring down at the man
lying at my
feet. "That was awesome!"
The two other men clearly couldn’t
believe it, either, because they stared at their fallen
buddy for a
couple of seconds before turning identical expressions of
surprise on
me.
That didn’t last long. The
one who had shoved me out of the van yelled something in a
Nordic language
and ran for me.
"I can’t believe I’m
doing this," I told him as I swung my pipe and sidestepped
him, the
pipe connecting with the back of his head with a metallic
clang that
made my stomach turn over. "I’m not at all a brave person.
I don’t
beat people up. Ever. Well, okay, maybe a demon or two, but
they aren’t
real people."
"The master will have your
life for this," the third guy said as he slammed me up
against a wall.
"Get him! Smash him! Beat
his brains in!" Geoff chanted from her chair, the scrape of
wood against
the floor audible as she chair-hopped over to us.
"Eep," I managed to squeak
out, trying to crack the man on the head with my pipe, but
he had wised
up after watching his two buddies drop and held my arm
straight out
at my side. His fingers started to tighten around my neck,
causing black
splotches to dance in front of my face. "Tell your master
that he
can’t have Geoff. If he wants to get tough, he’ll have to
face me,
and the last time he did that, it didn’t end well for him."
The man stopped strangling
me for a second, a look of confusion filling his eyes. "Who
are you?"
he asked.
The chair screeched against the floor.
I twisted my body, bringing
my knee up to nail the guy in the noogies, biting his arm
at the same
time. He cursed profanely, dropping to his knees as I
raised my pipe
high over my head. "My name is Francesca Ghetti, the keeper
of the
Vikingahärta, and Loki’s worst nightmare!"
"You go, Fran!" Geoff cheered
as I stood over the kidnapper.
Her words brought some sanity
back to me. I was panting, the blood rushing in my ears, my
heart beating
wildly. I looked down on the man for a second, toying with
the thought
of braining him, too, but instead I just stomped on his
foot hard enough
to make him yelp, and jumped over his halfhearted attempt
to grab me.
"There’s an X-Acto knife
over there," Geoff said, nodding toward a rickety table
half hidden
by shadows. "I’ve been watching it for the last ten
minutes, trying
to figure out how I could get to it. Oh no you don’t,
Buster Brown."
As I snatched up the knife,
Geoff kicked at the kidnapper, who was just getting to his
feet. He
howled as she hit him dead center in his groin.
"Oh, that has to hurt,"
I murmured as I bent over her, cutting through the nylon
cord that bound
her to the chair. "Poor guy isn’t going to have kids after
this."
"Poor guy? Are you insane?
He’s a kidnapper! You sure you don’t want to smash his
brains in?"
Geoff asked when her bonds fell to the ground. She rubbed
her wrists,
glaring down at the writhing man. One of the others started
to moan
and move his arms and legs.
"I’m sure. Let’s get
out of here before the other two wake up."
"Okay, but you know, no one
would blame you for roughing them up a little. . . ."
We made it outside before the
groin man started down the stairs (hunched over quite a
bit). I didn’t
stop to explain to Geoff, just grabbed her arm and hauled
her after
me to where the cabby was just getting back in her
car. "Take us to
1021 Woodline Avenue," I told the cabby, shoving Geoff in
the car.
I glanced back at the warehouse, adding, "And hurry,
please."
The door to the warehouse was
flung open, and two men staggered out. I was relieved to
see that I
hadn’t done any permanent damage to them, and hoped the
third wasn’t
seriously hurt. The cabby eyed them for a moment, then met
my gaze in
the rearview mirror. "You in some sort of trouble?"
"No. Someone else is going
to be, though," I said grimly.
"Gotcha." She gunned the
engine and pulled a very illegal U-turn, the shouts of the
guys faintly
following us as we zipped down the road.
I leaned back against the seat,
letting go of my breath.
"You want to tell me what
all that was about?" Geoff asked, examining her wrists.
"Er . . . not really."
"They thought I was you,
you know," she said, eyeing me carefully.
"They what?"
She nodded. "They called
me Francesca. I guess it’s because I copied your haircut
before you
cut yours. They said the master wanted to see you, and they
were going
to take me to him. What the hell is going on, Fran? Who
were those goons?
And why would they want to kidnap you to take you to some
bondage dude?
Or wait, was it a kidnapping?"
"Bondage dude?" I asked,
confused how she leapt from Loki to that.
"Master, remember? What else
is that if not bondage?" She eyed me again. "You know, I
had no
idea you were into that sort of thing. I’m not, myself, but
I have
friends who run a little club in town—"
I held up my hand to stop her.
"I’m not into bondage. The master in this instance isn’t
into
bondage, either. At least I don’t think he is. He’s an old
man.
A really old man." Like a couple of thousand years, at
least. "He’s
. . . uh . . ."
She raised an eyebrow as I
thought frantically of what to tell her. Almost a year of
living with
her had made me very well aware that she freaked out at
anything even
remotely supernatural. There was no way she wouldn’t do the
same if
I told her the old Norse gods were alive and well and after
revenge.
At least one of them was.
"He’s what?" she asked,
prodding me.
"He’s . . ." My shoulders
slumped. "He’s into bondage."
"I knew it! I knew there
was more to you than just a germ fetish! So this was what,
a fantasy
setup? Wow, that’s really wild. I’ll give you Mistress
Dominica’s
number later, if you like, although if you have your own
connection,
you probably won’t care too much. Are you a bottom or a
top?"
I blinked at her. "Eh . .
."
"Bottom. I knew it. I’m
a top, myself, but as I told you when I moved in, you don’t
have to
worry that I’m going to try to seduce you." She smiled at
the cabdriver’s
startled glance in the mirror. "I have to give it to you
guys, that
was a hell of a kidnapping fantasy. I guess I won’t be
siccing Daddy’s
lawyers on the guys if they were your friends, although I
have to say
I thought they were a bit rough, especially when that one
guy slammed
you up against the wall. Unless, of course, you like that."
She gave
me a considering look.
I smiled feebly, and spent
the remainder of the ride wondering why the vengeful Norse
god Loki
would pick now to pop back up in my life.
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