by K. A. Tucker
The lines on Leo’s forehead deepened as he frowned. “I’m not a fan of fate. It breeds concession—a nasty human weakness. Besides, there are clear differences between Ratheus and Earth, the biggest one being Sofie’s magical blunder. Now, if they were parallel planets, on the other hand . . . ” He took a haul on his pipe. “Doom would likely be the operative word.”
“Right.” Earth is not Ratheus, I repeated mentally, the reminder helping calm my racing heart. A tiny shred of hope, but something I desperately needed. If Caden could just hang on until Sofie released them, they could go into hiding, somewhere away from the Sentinel. Even here. And if we could get Veronique out of their tomb, Viggo and Mortimer could leave New York, vanish from the radar. Then this Sentinel would have nothing to hunt. Or wouldn’t they? I recalled Leo’s words. “You said ninety-five percent of vampires. Not a hundred percent.”
Leo winked.
“Ugh! Leo, you said no more secrets. There are more? I thought those three were it! Where are the other vampires and why don’t they help?”
Leo tapped his finished pipe into an ashtray. “Viggo has made enemies. They won’t come within a thousand miles of him.”
“Surprise, surprise,” I muttered.
Leo barked a laugh. “That’s right. You’re not the only one Viggo has screwed over.”
“What’d he do?” Julian asked.
“Like I said before—Viggo was not the first vampire, but he’s now the oldest.”
“That means he killed off an older, more powerful vampire? Why?” Julian asked. “So he could be the oldest?” When Leo answered with a noncommittal shrug, Julian asked, “How?” Leo’s head was shaking before he answered, his eyes widening momentarily, as if strained. Our barrage of questions was starting to annoy him. “I haven’t the slightest clue. It took some extraordinary manipulation and acting on his part, I’m sure. But he is one devious creature.” Leo stood with an exaggerated stretch. “Let’s save the rest of this talk for another night. We’ll have many of them yet. Max, you’ll walk Evangeline upstairs?” Leo didn’t wait for an answer, of course. He shuffled by, lightly patting my head. “Get some rest, Evangeline.” He nodded once to Julian. “Night.”
Julian nodded back, and his eyes followed the old man all the way to the stairs. We sat in silence in the great room, brooding over the possible end of the world.
Suddenly feeling the cold, I tugged my blanket up to wrap it around myself. I burrowed into the corner of the sectional and pulled my feet up so I was curled into a tiny ball, even then wishing I could just disappear. Julian, who had moved to sit beside me while talking to Leo, leaned back until he was half lying, half sitting and threw his own blanket over himself, but he didn’t return to his corner of the couch. Yesterday’s awkwardness had completely vanished between us, leaving us comfortable with one another. I rested my cheek on the cushion behind me and quietly studied Julian’s profile as he stared ahead into the night, deep in thought. All traces of his scowl were gone. He was good-looking; really good-looking. And yet there were no sparks as I gazed at him now. Nor did I feel anything from him toward me, given his earlier proclamation that I wasn’t his “type.” Nothing hung between us and I was happy for that. I wonder what Amelie would think of him? I smiled to myself.
Julian turned to catch me smiling and frowned. “I didn’t expect smiles after that news.”
The reminder wiped any trace of happiness off my face. I shook my head. “I was just thinking about . . . something unimportant.”
“Well, what are we going to do?” Julian asked.
There was that word—we. Not “you,” but “we,” as if he were joining me in this struggle, sharing in my fears and pain so I didn’t need to bear them alone. I had another ally. “I don’t know. You heard Leo. We can’t do much here. We just have to hope the secrets remain hidden, that no one who could use this information against them finds out. And then when we get out of here, we find a new life. You’re welcome to come with us. Sofie made sure I had lots of money.” I wasn’t going to tell him how much. That would just sound like bragging.
“Right.” Julian snorted. “Live with a bunch of vampires? How exactly do you do that . . . ” His voice drifted off as understanding slackened his face. “You’re not going to . . . turn yourself into one of them? I mean, I guess that would make the most sense, but . . . ” His tone betrayed his disapproval.
I shrugged noncommittally, as Leo had earlier, averting my eyes. I knew the answer. So did Julian. He didn’t need me to say it.
He wouldn’t let it go, though. “How can you even think of doing that? Choose to kill humans, to drink blood!”
A tremor ran through my body. “I don’t want to think about any of that,” I muttered.
“Well, you need to! You need to think about what kind of life that is!” He was no longer talking quietly but almost yelling. Max’s head lifted, cobra-like, and he eyed a warning at Julian. “I’m sorry, Max,” Julian said, lowering his voice as he addressed the dog—a strange thing to watch from a different perspective, “but she needs to think about what she’s giving up before she goes and does something stupid!”
“It’s not stupid!” I retorted, but my voice was unconvincing. Maybe Julian was right. Maybe it was stupid. Maybe it was downright insane. All I knew was that the idea of becoming one of them wasn’t half as scary as the idea of losing all of them, an idea that had just come to life, thanks to Leo. I wasn’t sure I could live as a vampire, but I was now one hundred percent positive that I couldn’t live the rest of a human life without my vampire.
A touch on my calf made me look—Julian’s hand on top of my blanket, patting my leg soothingly. “Please don’t cry. I hate it when girls cry. My sister always cries. It’ll be okay.”
I hadn’t noticed the tears streaming down my cheeks until now. I lifted my hand to rub them away, but Julian’s thumb was already there, gently erasing one as it rolled down the bridge of my nose. “I just feel so . . . trapped.”
Julian smirked. “Yes, I know the feeling.”
Of course he did. His life had been irrevocably changed as well. He had lost his parents, he had by all accounts nearly frozen to death, he had listened to the same devastating possibilities as me. And yet here he was, trying to make me feel better. Poor Julian. He’s stuck in here with me—a sniveling, self-pitying crybaby. Suddenly I felt foolish. There was nothing we could do about the outside world while we were here. Sofie would have things under control. She would protect Caden and the others. She would keep the peace. My only job was to stay sane until I did see Caden again.
“At least we’re trapped here together.” Julian gave my leg another pat. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. Nothing will happen. No witches casting spells. No Sentinel attacks. Right now, boredom will be our worst enemy.”
I nodded firm agreement. “You’re right. We’ll be fine.” I swallowed the painful lump in my throat. God, I hope you’re right, Julian.
I turned in soon after, craving the comfort of my pillow, and privacy, but I was far from sleep. My mind spun in ten different directions, replaying parts of the earlier conversation that I had forgotten until now. “Hey Max, what other nonhuman things are out there?” I asked as I crawled into my double bed. The sheets held the cold, even with a fire blazing in my hearth.
Oh, this and that. The bed creaked with the weight of Max’s body as he leaned up against the frame.
“Stop being evasive, dog,” I grumbled, knowing my reference to his original species would prick his ego.
I’m not. I’m protecting you from unimportant information that will unnecessarily frighten you. You sleep poorly as it is.
“Well, I want to know! I’m ordering you!”
Warm air puffed onto my face as Max snorted loudly. On the grounds of protecting you and myself, I choose not grant your request.
Max had figured out the loophole for denying my order; he was now basically pleading the Fifth. “Since when did dogs start following the Constitution?” I mut
tered. He answered with that funny grunting sound I recognized as dog laughter. With a huff, I rolled over to put my back to him, pulling the covers up over my ears to shut Max out. I spent the rest of the night trying to fall asleep. And failing.
5. Transformation
“Thirty-two days, Sofie!” Mortimer groaned. “Thirty-two days, penned up in here.” He waved his arms around the atrium, now an urban war zone, thanks to my temper tantrum. “How much more of this can we bear?”
Thirty-two days and counting since the day Evangeline had returned with an army of vampires. It felt like thirty-two years. I had done six more blood runs since the first, all at night, all uncoordinated, all old-fashioned thievery. The several trucks that had gone missing had made it to the news, only building on the speculation regarding the explosion and multiple deaths outside Reggie’s Red Cross. I couldn’t do much about it. Compelling and erasing paperwork took time and required the freedom to move about. I had neither. Not that it mattered anymore. That first run to Reggie had made it clear that the Sentinel was aware of us, and they had at least one witch—likely Ursula—helping them. They had to be wondering what was happening within these walls that would require so many trucks of blood. Maybe if we stayed in here long enough, they’d get bored, I thought sardonically. Fat chance. That group had lingered from generation to generation, passing on secret truths and missions, breeding hatred for us. They knew how to lie in wait.
Ileana was locked in the parlor, quietly working on her spell casting, Viggo driving her to exhaustion daily. I couldn’t see what she was doing. The clever little witchling had learned how to mask her weaves well. But just having someone’s magic so freely circulating through the building set my neck hairs on end. I could see it bothered Mage as well, showing daily in her strained features. But as long as Ileana caused no one any harm, she wasn’t breaking the truce. Mage’s diplomacy wouldn’t allow her to kill the little girl out of personal displeasure.
For now, the Merth’s powers still confined the vampires to the building, so things were okay. Tense, with a jealous and volatile Rachel lurking at Viggo and Mortimer’s side, with me ignoring Caden and his friends while keeping watch twenty-four hours a day, but okay. They spent most of their time in the cellar, feeding nonstop. Mage seemed to think it was a good idea; that, if they could hold their resolve, feeding more would help them. It was counter to everything I knew, but I wanted so desperately to believe her that I readily supplied it as needed.
And they needed it. Again. I would be making another trip any night now—another random truck hijacking. The spontaneity was safer in one regard—it made it difficult for Viggo to execute any of his clandestine plans. Who knew what else he had up his sleeve? He had become so distrusting, so secretive, that even Mortimer appeared uneasy around him.
I recognized the soft footsteps approaching on my right as Mage’s graceful glide without looking. We had spent much of the last thirty-two days together. I wasn’t sure what was happening—were we becoming friends? Friends who openly declared their distrust for each other; who were prepared to strike the other dead for any reason. Yet a mutual, unspoken respect seemed to be growing—downright sinister for any other species and yet for us, a requirement. I hadn’t had a friend in over a century, aside from Leo.
Our closeness was driving Viggo insane, I could tell—me allied with someone far superior to him, to the leader of a horde of dominant vampires. Several times, he stealthily slid a comment or question into conversation, fishing for information on Mage. He seemed determined to know about her lineage, where she sat in the pecking order. Was she the original vampire? The one whom the witches on Ratheus created just as the witches had created Earth’s? For some reason beyond my understanding, it was important to him.
Mage remained civil but tight-lipped, divulging nothing. So now Viggo kept his distance. Mortimer and their snaky sidekick, Rachel, followed suit. I was fine with that.
“I think it may be time to time to test our venom,” Mage stated.
Everywhere in the atrium, vampire ears perked up. Viggo and Mortimer, previously flanking the statue, suddenly appeared beside us.
“It’s only been a month,” I reiterated.
“Yes, but they’ve been feeding nonstop.”
“On plastic bags. Bags don’t run away.” The chase of a warm, flowing body was as much the addiction as the end result. Just talking about it stirred excitement within me.
“We may find ourselves short on time soon,” Mage said softly. Unlike me, she was convinced the Sentinel were already planning something big. “Wouldn’t you like to know that this was all for something?”
I was secretly desperate to find out. I wanted to witness a transformation, something I had never done. But I wouldn’t turn this place into a slaughterhouse. “How many people will we go through in trying?”
“Who cares!” Viggo exclaimed.
“I am capable of resisting the urges,” Mage continued, ignoring Viggo as she typically did. “I will be the one to do it.”
I caught a flicker of contempt in Viggo’s eyes and couldn’t help but pause for a vindictive little smile. But then I quickly brought myself back to reality. “And what about the others?” I retorted, my eyes roaming over the group of vampires listening to the conversation, their eyes wide with anticipation. Caden and his friends had resurfaced from the cellar and now stood off in a corner, as usual, listening without appearing to care too much about anything.
Mage turned an icy glare toward those milling around the ruined atrium. “They will listen.”
So sure of her authority over them. Why? “And if they don’t?”
She chuckled. “They will listen to me. And if they don’t,” her voice turned hard, “burn them.”
The dramatic gong of the doorbell announced that our guinea pig had arrived on time, ignorant that the invitation from Viggo was in fact his death sentence as a human.
“Now remember, none of you are to so much as step toward our guest,” Mage called out in a stern schoolteacher-like voice, her eyes on the door. “And if you do, you will die where you stand.”
A chorus of hisses and grunts rose from the cowering group, who likely feared that their lack of control would inadvertently get them torched. My eyes flicked over Caden and the others. Please don’t be the ones to test Mage’s threat.
The doorbell rang a second time. Our guinea pig was impatient. Reaching the exterior door as only I could, I punched in the code that only I knew. The door lock released and the door creaked open. “Good afternoon, Mr. Adesina.” I shot one of my flashiest smiles at the towering Nigerian.
He peered over his sunglasses to appraise me from head to toe, intentionally keeping his expression indifferent. But I knew otherwise. Lewis Adesina—his first name wasn’t really Lewis but that’s what he went by—was very much interested in what this address had to offer him. Lewis was an astute businessman and a high-end drug dealer now residing in the wealthier part of Queens, looking for ways to expand his enterprise. He had piqued Viggo’s interest years ago and Viggo kept tabs on him, silently channeling business his way, watching the man’s wealth grow. That was how Viggo worked. He nurtured the up-and-coming, all while extorting pertinent information needed to swiftly clean out accounts—both local and offshore—once his subject amassed greater wealth. Doing this for two thousand years had garnered an obscene return on Viggo’s investment and efforts. Lewis was now valued at somewhere around eight digits. He made the perfect victim.
“Right this way,” I said warmly, gesturing down the tunnel.
He removed his trench coat and folded it over one arm of his custom-tailored navy pinstripe suit. “What’s this about?” His eyes roamed the tunnel as we walked.
I chuckled. “Do you normally accept invitations to strange places with no idea why you’re going?”
He threw a contemptuous glare my way. “When the address is Fifth Avenue, I’m willing to be surprised.”
That earned another sadistic laugh. “Oh, you’l
l be surprised, alright.”
Wariness edged into his aura. Not fear. Guys like this didn’t scare easily.
But soon it would come.
Lewis nervously adjusted his draped coat and the sparkle of a diamond-encrusted watch caught my eye. I couldn’t help myself. “So the meth business is quite profitable for you, I see.”
Lewis pursed his lips and shot me a look of smug disapproval, but said nothing.
“It takes an exceptionally revolting kind of person to nurture fourteen-year-olds into addicts and prostitutes,” I prodded, thoroughly enjoying the moment. It was like poking a cornered rabid raccoon with a long stick.
Lewis sneered. “I don’t know who you are, lady, but don’t mess with me . . . ” His voice faded as we reached the gaping hole that opened onto the destroyed atrium. And his death. His eyes widened with surprise. “What the hell happened in here?”
“Someone messed with me,” I answered flippantly. His deep laughter filled the tunnel. He thinks I’m joking. He lifted long legs over fallen bricks and followed me into the atrium. A new wave of his wariness filled my nostrils.
Mage was waiting. “Hello, Lewis.”
I glanced to my left, where the others huddled in a far corner, shifting their weight from one foot to the other as they watched intently, their eyes morphing. It was as if they could sense the blood pumping through millions of vessels nearby, but they couldn’t figure out how to get to it.
Lewis gave Mage the once-over, as he had done to me. “I’m a busy man. What can you do for me?” he answered, peering arrogantly from his greater height at the diminutive woman before him.
Her coal-black eyes lit up. “Oh, something very important. We can give you immortality.” Mage smiled sweetly as she glided forward. “You’re here to test our venom, so let’s get started. I’m going to inject my venom into you and we’ll see if you survive or not.” Mage’s announcement was so simple, it was as if she were explaining a basic dental procedure.
