by Melody Raven
“When do you think I can see that psychic?” asked Gena.
“Vlad is working on it. Hopefully we can have one in the city tomorrow night,” said Marcus. “Tell me more about the man who killed you.”
That was a topic she didn’t want to get into, but she had no choice if Marcus was to protect her as he promised. He couldn’t protect her if he didn’t know all the threats against her.
“I’m still really confused about what happened, myself. I worked with Ryan for years, and he never as much as looked at me and then all of the sudden, he was cornering me after work and telling me, not asking, that we should be together. I turned him down and the next night he was at my house. He barged in and told me we were meant to be. Some bullshit about him giving up drugs and now that he was clean, there was some ‘brightness’ about me that made me different. Have you ever heard of anything like that before?”
Marcus thought about that for a moment. “Well, I have heard people that are crazy ramble on before, but nothing that sounded specifically like your situation. Brightness is an interesting choice of words. He could have been referring to an aura around you.”
“What would my aura have to do with anything?”
“Well, I’ve never seen one myself, but psychics can see them on just about anybody. It could be that Ryan is an untrained psychic and spotted your aura,” said Marcus.
“If all humans have an aura, why would Ryan single me out?”
“He’d single you out because your aura was different. That would mean your aura was different even before he killed you, leading me to believe whatever makes you special was something that happened long before he killed you.”
Gena’s heart sunk as she processed that information. “I swear, I’m just about as normal as normal can get. I always have been.”
Marcus wanted to comfort her, but there was nothing he could say to make her feel better. He was so far from normal, he hardly even knew what that was anymore. Hell, in his mind, being normal was worse than any torture he could imagine.
He was stronger than everyone around him. He had access to any VIP room or restaurant he wanted with only a few seconds of eye contact. Women wanted him and men wanted to be him. How could it get better?
He wanted to shake her and tell her she’d risen from the dead! She should be shouting from the rooftops with joy and celebrating.
He felt just as helpless as he had watching her bleed from two bullet holes in his arms. This time was different, though. This time he could show her the new world that was now open to her. He could help her find out who she was. No matter how normal she said she’d been, he knew something very supernatural had happened to her at some point. They would figure it out together.
He and Gena were able to make it to about three different shops before they closed. He wasn’t experienced with shopping for women, but he made the best out of the situation.
At first he tried to sit down and out of the way as she did her shopping, but the boredom got to him much too quickly. Before long, he was making her show him everything she tried on. He did his best to convince her to buy more revealing clothes, but she’d playfully brush his suggestions off.
Soon enough, she had enough clothes to last her a few weeks and had ignored about ninety-nine percent of his suggestions. Apparently he had bad taste in women’s clothing.
He did convince her she needed to buy another outfit she could wear to Fang, but that might have been a mistruth. In all honesty, if he wanted her in Fang, she’d get in no matter what she was wearing. A vampire had to have some fun, though.
Since the rebels had made contact, he wasn’t worried about going to Fang tonight. He could make an appearance tomorrow and no one would miss him.
As he and Gena made their way out of the store, the clerk who had helped them locked the doors to close the store. Gena glanced worriedly at the noise. “I hope we didn’t keep her too long past her shift. I didn’t realize how late it was.”
Marcus took her losing track of time as a good sign. She was enjoying her time with him, even if she didn’t want to. “Considering how much we just spent, I’m sure they could stay open an extra half an hour,” he assured her.
Gena looked guiltily at the bags she was carrying. “I’ll pay you back for all this. I promise.”
Marcus still had to get started on setting her up with an identity. He added it to his mental to-do list. As much as he liked having her around, he knew she’d want her independence back sooner rather than later.
Things like a Social Security number and driver’s license were important. Luckily, because he was of a species that didn’t age, he had someone who could get some papers made up within a week.
He appreciated that she wanted to pay for her purchases, but he didn’t need her money. He refrained from telling her, considering he didn’t want to start an argument when she seemed to be enjoying herself.
He wanted to show her around the city. She said she’d never been there before, and Marcus wanted to be the one to show her everything for the first time, but the multitude of bags weighing them down made sightseeing cumbersome.
He wasn’t one prone to wishful thinking, but his mind suddenly wished he’d met Gena under different circumstances. He wished she was here of her own free will and wanted to be with him. He wished she hadn’t seen the dark side of his life so soon.
He wondered whether she’d think differently of him if she’d believed he was human when they met. He could have taken her on a real date. When was the last time he’d been on a real date?
All he could remember were scattered affairs across the last centuries. Any time he took a woman out, he wanted something from her. Blood, sex, and political favors were his top three, and if he could get all at once, that was just icing on the cake.
Being with Gena was different. Although his itching fangs and constant state of semi-arousal were proof that the drive for blood and sex were still especially strong around her, he wanted her to enjoy herself around him.
It was obvious she still missed her old life, but she was at least slightly enjoying her time with him.
An unfamiliar noise shook Marcus from his thoughts. A cell phone rang, but it wasn’t a ringtone he recognized. One look at Gena’s face and he knew it wasn’t hers. A sense of apprehension filled him. It was show time.
The noise of the bar overwhelmed Marcus at first. His sensitive ears took a moment to adjust to the loud voices all around him.
The voice on the other end of the phone call had told him an address and time to meet but offered up no more information. All thoughts of spending a nice night alone with Gena had been tossed out the window.
He was already pissed enough at these rebels for fucking with his life, and now that they were potentially cock blocking him, he was going to find it hard to hide his disdain.
He was unsure how to play his role. He had a reputation of being a savvy politician who was out for himself first and foremost, which was why he was an ideal target for the rebels to convert to their side. Because of Marcus’s selfish side, he was also known as a bit of an asshole.
If he was too nice to the men he was meeting with tonight, they could get suspicious and kill him. If he was too much of a bastard, they could get angry and kill him.
Neither of those were exactly ideal. Marcus grimaced.
In addition to the loud voices and music, the dimly lit bar was also filled with smoke. Whoever these men were, they knew what they were doing. He was already having a hard time hearing, and the smoke impaired his vision and his sense of smell.
However, the smoke did give him one piece of valuable information. New York City had a smoking ban in public places. Although it was common enough for one or two customers in the seedier bars to ignore the ban and light up whenever, this amount of smoke wasn’t caused by one or two people. Almost everyone in the bar had smoked one or two cigarettes to get this amount of smoke to fill the rooms.
It was possible that everyone in the bar decided to
say “fuck you” to the ban and have a smoke, but Marcus thought it was much more likely they were “convinced” to smoke by one of the rebels. Meaning at least one of the men he was meeting here tonight was a pure born.
He frowned at the idea. Someone who had to do as much boozing and schmoozing as he did knew a lot of people and vampires, and he prided himself on knowing, or at least knowing of, every pure born.
He knew there were trusted vampires working with the rebels, but he was uneasy at the idea of there being even more traitors right under his nose.
He looked around through the smoke-filled room. The voice commanding him to meet here had neglected to give any direction about what to do or who to look for once he got there.
He saw a lot of big, tall, and gruff-looking men, but none were vampires. Apparently he was supposed to play a waiting game. Fine with him. He could use a drink. He would prefer type O, but whiskey could do in a pinch.
He nursed his drink slowly. He knew someone was watching him. Someone had been at the bar earlier in the night to control all the patrons to talk loudly and smoke. It would make no sense for them to leave and come back later. They were scouting him out.
A few whiskeys later and almost to the point of pulling out his phone and playing Sudoku, the men he was meeting finally made themselves known.
The first man was a familiar face, but not the one Marcus was expecting. It was one of the men he’d met last night in the alley. The one who had tossed him the phone.
“You look lonely,” the man said with a raspy voice. “Come join our table.”
Marcus gave a slight nod of agreement and followed the man. He was tall, a little taller than Marcus, so probably almost six and a half feet of vampire. Dark tattoos covered most of the man’s exposed face and neck.
That in itself was puzzling. Because vampires didn’t age, they avoided identifying marks like tattoos. It was worrisome that this one seemed to not care whether people noticed him.
The table he was led to sat two other men. One looked very similar to the man he was following and the other was different.
He had no tattoos covering his face, but he seemed more menacing than the other two men. Where the other two had unkempt hair and messy clothes, this man was put together with purpose. He had dark hair, like the other two, but his was neatly slicked back and his face was clean shaven.
Although the other two men looked as though they had found their large jackets in the trash, this man’s jacket looked as though it had cost at least two grand—or he’d taken it from a man who had paid that much.
Marcus would know. He had one just like it.
Marcus took his seat and let it sink in that he didn’t recognize any of the three vampires in front of him. “You like to make a guy sweat, don’t you?” he asked the three.
The two messy ones looked to the vampire in the middle and said nothing. It was obvious who was in charge. “I like to know who I’m dealing with,” said the leader.
“I guess you have me at an advantage then, seeing that I know jack shit about you.”
The leader simply smiled at the comment. It was the eerie calm of a man who knew if he gave the slightest hint of discomfort, Marcus would be dead by the hands of those two goons.
“I am Rok,” he said. “These are my men, Kilk and Goff.”
Even though Marcus had names, they did nothing to help him figure out who these men were. They didn’t ring any bells, and considering how unique they were, he should’ve recognized them. Even more puzzling was the accent of the two men he’d heard speak so far. It had a hint of Eastern European, but Marcus could not recall hearing it before.
“I assume you want something from me,” said Marcus.
Rok casually took a sip of his drink. Through the clear glass, Marcus saw a dark red liquid. “I believe you hold enough power with your peers that your insights and abilities could prove useful to me.”
Marcus nodded. “What exactly makes you think I’d want to be ‘useful’ to you? We might have a common enemy in Aleksander, but I don’t need your help to kill him.”
Rok met Marcus’s eyes across the table. “I know you. I am you. I know exactly what it’s like to give all of your time, energy, and devotion to your king. And what do you get in return? Kicked out of the kingdom for imagined crimes. You might be able to kill Aleksander whenever you want, but it will not be a secret who the culprit is. Your own people thought you wanted him dead even before your latest altercation. What will they think if he ends up dead now?”
It was an interesting angle they were working. They were depending on his sense of betrayal to sway him to their cause—whatever the hell that cause was. “The Council will think I killed Aleksander. Even if you find some other flunky to help you assassinate the king, everyone will still think I did it.”
“You’re right about what they’ll think, but you are mistaken about a few other things. We’re not looking for a flunky in you. We are looking for a partner. And while we do intend to kill Aleksander, that’s not our endgame. Our intent is to replace him.”
“Who are you going to replace him with?” asked Marcus.
Rok leaned back in his chair and regarded Marcus. “I have to have some secrets.”
You won’t have any left by the time I’m done with you, thought Marcus. “So please clarify; why do you expect me to help you?”
“I can promise you one thing. I can promise that in the very near future, Aleksander will be dead. I can also promise you that in the near future, you will still be ostracized from your own people you have served for centuries. Join me and we can give you the one thing you crave. Power.”
Power? Marcus didn’t crave power. It came naturally to him. He knew how to play people and read them like no other. He didn’t need Rok or anyone else giving him anything. Instead of pointing that out, Marcus asked, “Aleksander always travels with armed guards. He is even more paranoid after he found out you turned one of his most trusted men against him. What makes you so sure you can get to him without me?”
Rok waved his hand in front of him in a dismissive gesture. “He has a few guards. That’s nothing. I have an entire army at my command. Aleksander doesn’t stand a chance.”
An army of vampires? How the hell could anyone amass an army of vampires without any of the monarchy or Council knowing about it? “If you don’t need me to help you take out Aleksander, what do you need me for?”
“Need is a very strong word,” stressed Rok. “You are, or at least were, a trusted member of this Council. Once chaos comes down, the remaining people will need guidance from a trusted face. Your high rank with your people and your current state of disgrace make you a prime candidate. I assure you that in return for your assistance, you will be rewarded far beyond your wildest dreams.”
“You don’t know my dreams,” pointed out Marcus.
Rok shrugged. “All you need to do is ask. Kilk told me you had a pretty young mortal you were protecting last night. Is she part of your dreams?”
Marcus felt his muscles tense up at the mention of Gena but tried to show no outward signs of his distress.
“We can get you twenty more like her. Your own harem.”
Marcus didn’t want a harem of women. He could already have anyone he wanted. He just wanted Gena. He must’ve taken too long to respond because Rok continued, “Do you have feelings for the human? Is that why you kept her from Kilk and Goff?”
Marcus planted the coldest expression he could muster on his face. “I don’t fucking care about the girl. She tastes amazing, does things in bed even I have never heard of, and I don’t share with two fuckwads I met in an alley. I’ll let you have her when I’m done, but I haven’t used her up yet.” Satisfied he sounded heartless enough, Marcus switched topics. “What kind of power can you offer?”
His harsh works must’ve made Rok happy because a smile lit his face. “I do love inventive women. Maybe I’ll have to have a go at her.”
Marcus took a deep breath to keep his barely c
ontained temper in check. “If you’re so keen to have my leftovers, go for it.”
Marcus’s and Rok’s eyes met over the table in a silent power play. Marcus could tell Rok was trying to gauge his attachment to Gena, and Marcus was waiting to see whether Rok was about to kill him.
Marcus must’ve passed the test because Rok broke eye contact first and took another long drink. He slammed his empty glass on the table. “That’s some really good stuff,” he said to Marcus. “It’s a shame I don’t have more. Those blood banks are just so hard to get a contact with if you are a stranger.”
Marcus wasn’t sure where this was going, but he had a bad feeling.
“I need you to get us some more blood, Marcus.”
“From a blood bank?” asked Marcus.
Rok shook his head. “No. I want you to get us some more blood right now. In this bar.”
Bad feeling confirmed. Marcus looked over his shoulder at all of the unsuspecting people around him. “Any preference?”
Rok looked pensive as his gaze wandered over the possible victims. One hand reached out and pointed a long finger to a man sitting at the table behind them. “That one.”
Marcus’s eyes turned death black as he turned to face his prey.
Gena was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Sure, Marcus had a huge place, but knowing she was unable to leave just amplified the trapped feeling she’d been fighting off since he dropped her off and left for his meeting with the rebels.
She understood his reasoning, but that didn’t help her either. With this possible vampire rebellion on the horizon, it was best if as few people saw her out and about as possible.
It addition, Ryan could still be out there, looking for her. In a crazy sort of reasoning, she understood where Ryan was coming from. He had no reason to murder her in the first place, but he did see her new body right next to her dead one.
