“Seriously?” I ask. “You guys have known about vampires? They’re real?”
Agent Kendricks sips his coffee again. “Quite, as I am sure you are well aware of now.”
“Are there many of them?” asks Mom.
“A handful,” says Agent Han.
Dad scratches his head. “So, you guys are like what… vampire cops? You go after them or something?”
“Not exactly. At least, not the ones who don’t make problems of themselves. They represent a rather unique situation.” Agent Kendricks leans his head toward his left shoulder, then his right, cracking his neck.
“You mean they’re really damn hard to kill,” I say.
Agent Han smiles.
“How did you find us so fast?” Mom shoos Sierra upstairs.
“The medical examiner’s office had security cameras, which got a pretty clear shot of your escape.” Agent Kendricks sips his coffee, no visible emotion on his face.
My cheeks warm with blush.
“What’s wrong?” asks Dad.
“Umm. Corpses in body coolers don’t usually have any clothes.” I fidget. “Remember the blanket?”
“Your escape was quite impressive,” says Agent Han. “As were the claw marks on the inside of the chamber. First time we’ve seen that.”
I fold my arms, unable to make eye contact with anyone. So much for trying to hold on to any dignity. “I think I woke up earlier than expected since I’m, like, an Innocent or something.”
Agent Han twitches with recognition at the word Innocent.
“What are your intentions?” asks Kendricks.
“To go see what some crazy bitch who kidnapped my friends wants.” I walk backward a few steps to the ‘pile o’ shoes’ and step into my sneakers.
“No, we mean your intentions in general.” Agent Han tips back the last of her coffee.
“Oh. Uhh. To get a degree or something, try to be as normal as possible. Look, can we maybe pick this up tomorrow? I’ve still got another kidnapping to deal with.”
“Sarah, these are federal agents. What’s going on? When did you become so, umm, assertive?” Mom rubs her hands up and down her arms.
“Probably right around the time I started being able to kick the door straight off a morgue cooler… or a cabin in the woods.”
“You demolished that whole place!” says Sierra from near the top of the stairs.
Mom draws a breath like she’s going to shout ‘bed’ at Sierra, but she hesitates, then looks at me. “You still haven’t told us what happened with your sister! Someone kidnapped her!”
“What are we dealing with?” asks Agent Kendricks.
“Grr. Guys! My friends.” I flail my arms. “Okay, fine. You guys know about the stabbing?”
The MIBs nod.
“Okay. Scott killed me because I tried to break up with him for cheating on me. A vampire saw it happen and felt bad for me, so he did whatever to make me into a vampire so I didn’t stay dead. He told me he killed Scott. But Scott’s still around. He mentally compelled the girl he cheated on me with to kidnap Sierra and bring her to this cabin out past Lake Margaret. When I got there, Scott tried to kill me, but I―”
“She totally kicked his ass,” yells Sierra.
“Yeah. He was pretty weak. He hadn’t even healed from being killed, still looked like a bear ate him.” I lower my voice so my kid sister can’t hear. “I literally tore his head off, but he kept moving. He ran away, so I undid whatever brain crap he put on Bree and we came home. He’s still out there, and I don’t think he’s gonna be a good living-impaired citizen. Now, I really gotta go before that crazy bitch hurts Ashley and Michelle.”
“Hmm. What do you think we’re dealing with?” Agent Kendricks glances at Han.
“Sarah?” Agent Han takes a step toward me when I go for the door. “Did you get the feeling that the one who turned you tried to be deceptive when he claimed to have killed Scott?”
“No, not really. He sounded honest. Duh.” I smack myself in the forehead. No wonder the claw scratches are healing fast. “Scott’s a Scrap.”
Han nods. “More than likely.”
“Can I get that in English?” asks Dad.
“An accident,” I say. “Scott wasn’t supposed to get back up, but he did.”
“Scraps are much weaker than full vampires, to the point our bureau rarely even gets involved with them.” Agent Han offers his mug to Mom. “Thank you for the coffee. We’ll be back later to finish our chat if that’s all right.”
“So, Sarah’s not in trouble?” asks Sierra from the stairs.
“Go to bed, hon.” Mom rubs her forehead.
“No… Innocents are rarely an issue.” Agent Han smiles at me. “Assuming you don’t become intoxicated with your newfound power and decide to go off on a crime spree.”
I back up to the door. “Look. Guys. Friends’ lives in danger? I seriously gotta go.”
Without waiting for a reply, I race outside… and stop. Dammit! The address.
A conversation between the MIBs and my parents grinds to a halt when I burst back in.
“Need to use your phone again, Mom.” I grab it from the sofa where Sierra tossed it. “Back soon.”
Again, I race out the door and hurl myself into the sky. Within seconds of liftoff, my stomach growls hard.
You know… I should probably stop for a snack on the way to the city.
Beautiful Death
22
From the air, it’s pretty easy to find where I need to go. The cluster of high-rises at the heart of Seattle near Elliot Bay isn’t too big, nothing like LA or New York. It’s still a bit of a trip, even flying. I cruise past Redmond, then Totem Lake. A layer of cold air hits my face when I go out over Lake Washington. The air still smells like rain, though Mom’s iPhone says it shouldn’t rain again until tomorrow afternoon. Hmm. I wonder if Hendricks would give me a ticket for using a cell phone while flying.
I glide in among the high rises, hunting for a place to land where no one will see me. The building I’ve been told to go to is a skyscraper next to a mess of an intersection: Eighth Ave, Westlake Ave, and Lenora Street all tangle up like a Jackson Pollack painting rendered in traffic. Across the street from it, another high rise stands next to a shorter wedge-shaped building, and there’s a narrow alley running between them.
Perfect.
That’s close to where I wanna be, and probably dark.
I circle the other skyscraper and drop down into the gap. The scuff of my sneakers on the pavement echoes in a super-narrow street running between the skyscraper on one side and a red-brick building on my left. There’s a white box-truck parked a little ways ahead of me, and a row of trashcans line the brick building. The air smells like food and garbage mixed with sea air.
The base of the skyscraper to my right is plain grey. Weak lights every like twenty feet or so break up the murk in yellowish cones. I almost want some creep to get in my face so I can take revenge for the past five years of being afraid to go anywhere alone. Or revenge for girls in general.
One of the green doors in the red brick building opens. A guy in a dark button-down shirt and jeans steps out. He flicks me a casual glance while tugging a cigarette out of a pack and leaning against the wall. Hmm. Nah. I don’t wanna drink a smoker’s blood. It’d probably be healthier to eat a car tire. At first, he seems surprised to see me, but after a second or two, I get the ‘what’s your problem’ face.
Oops. I guess I’m not acting nervous enough for him, or maybe it’s my serious expression instead of a smile. A girl out alone must be frightened and needs a big strong guy to look out for her, right? I keep my head high and walk right on past him like I own the whole city.
The chip, chip, chip of a cigarette lighter breaks the quiet. I don’t bother looking back, but I do hurry a little to avoid having to smell that crap. At the end of the alley, the high-rise on my right opens into the entrance of a parking deck, and the red brick building tapers to a narrow corner that’s
like a foot wide. A banner hanging over the sidewalk wants me to ‘Eurostyle my life’―whatever the hell that means. I roll my eyes at it and step out onto the sidewalk.
“Gah!” A guy jumps away from the wall beneath the banner.
I whirl to face him.
“Oh, sorry.” He smiles. “Didn’t see you there.”
He looks to be in his twenties, short, spiky dark hair, brown eyes. Little bit pudgy in the belly, but kinda cute. He smells like food; probably works in the building. Best of all, he doesn’t smell like smoke.
“It’s okay.” I smile. “I was kinda in a hurry.”
“You like lost or something, kid?”
I hold back the urge to frown. The dude thinks I’m fifteen or so. Ugh. Even Mom said becoming a vampire made me look younger in the face. Ooh. Idea! I smile. “No, I think I found what I was looking for.”
He starts to look confused, until I stare into his eyes.
Then he goes blank.
While he’s mesmerized, I lean up on tiptoe and sink my teeth into the side of his neck. Tasting cheese and bacon catches me off guard, but I don’t choke on the blood this time. I’m never going to get used to the random flavors. The whole area smells like bistro/TGIFridays-type food, so maybe it’s been implanted in my mind. Whatever.
I press the guy into the wall while drinking. Some bit of his consciousness must remain, as he grabs my ass, probably a reflex to thinking we’re making out or something. I don’t mind too much. Not like I’m seeing anyone. The least I can give him for feeding me is a cheap feel, plus it’s a good cover.
“Damn kids,” mutters an older-sounding man. “Right out in the street.”
“You two stop that,” says a woman, also elderly.
It’s so tempting to pull my face away from this guy’s neck and growl at them with my fangs out, but I really don’t want to be responsible for two heart attacks. Lips firmly sealed against the guy’s neck, I ignore the passing fogies and keep on drinking. Tingles spread down the claw marks on my back, itching like crazy. That’s probably going to be sore for a few days, but I think the cuts have at least closed up.
The old couple grumbles at us a little bit more, but they eventually walk away.
As soon as I feel full, I drag my tongue over the bite mark, sealing it. It’s so weird to watch that happen, to witness magic actually being real. A few more licks gets the last of the blood off his neck, and I lean back to make eye contact again.
“You didn’t see me and we didn’t just make out.”
The guy stares vapidly into nowhere.
Grinning to myself, I hurry toward the apartment tower, sucking the flavor of bacon and cheese out of my teeth. Honestly, feeding was pretty easy. There’s plenty of people in Seattle and the area around here, so not drinking from the same person more often than every couple of months should be simple. Especially since I’m not planning on making a habit of getting into fights with supernatural crap. If I keep to a quiet, normal existence, I should only need to feed about once a month.
Alas, I have a bad feeling ‘quiet’ and ‘normal’ aren’t on speaking terms with me anymore.
Hmm. The tower seems pretty new. Gazing up at the top almost makes me fall over backward. The curved face looks like it’s made entirely out of glass. Dad said apartments here are stupid expensive, like three grand a month in rent or more. I don’t know how rich people stay rich. If I had that kind of money, I’d never waste so much on rent. Sophia probably would. I bet she’d adore living in a palace. Sierra wouldn’t care how crappy her digs are as long as she had internet access and enough video games.
Whoever kidnapped my friends has money, and lots of it, but hasn’t been here long. There’s still a sign on the wall about leasing. A pair of grey-framed double doors leads to a small square lobby with an elevator and some white columns. I head straight for the ’vator and poke the button for the thirty-third floor. Nothing happens, so I press the button again.
“Be patient.” The same high-pitched, sexy voice from the phone call comes from a speaker above me. “You’re ringing my doorbell, hon.”
I set my hands on my hips and scowl around at the immaculate walls. Oh, yeah, I’m going to be intimidating as eff in a cartoon unicorn T-shirt and jeans that stop five inches above my ankles. “Well, I’m here to collect my friends. You better hope they’re still okay.”
The woman makes a noise part way between laugh and giggle. “Oh, sweetie. They’re fine.”
A chime comes from the panel as the elevator doors close. I tap my foot in time with the floor counter until I arrive on the thirty-third. Another pair of doors behind me open into a foyer, as if the elevator is the front door of a house or something. This apartment takes up the whole floor. If this woman can afford rent that must be absolutely ridiculous, so why would they bother abducting Ash and Chelle?
I walk through the small room of closets, past a fancy little table with vases, to an archway connected to a living room. The television hanging on the right looks small, but it’s probably massive―the room is huge. Floor-to-ceiling windows span the far wall, offering a view of the bay. A marble fireplace on the left stands among a bunch of old-timey statues, male nudes like from a Greek temple. Right of the fireplace is a set of decorative double-doors, white with fancy gold handles, currently closed. An open door in the back corner leads to a bathroom, and there’s a couple closets scattered around, too.
Most surprising is finding Ashley and Michelle lounging on a giant white sectional, watching Supernatural. All the way here, I’d expected to kick down another door and find my friends tied to chairs or something, terrified, wondering if they were about to die. Casual as anything, they glance over at me as I walk up behind the sofa. Of course, I’m gawking at a television so big the guys look life-sized.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” says Ashley.
Michelle smiles at me. “What took you so long?”
“It’s a long story, but Sierra got kidnapped.”
They gasp.
I raise a hand. “She’s fine. I’ll explain later. So, how did you two wind up here? You don’t look like you’ve been abducted.”
“Abducted?” asks Michelle. “This woman said she’s a friend of yours.”
“Ash, you said I had to come here or you’d get hurt.”
She blinks. “I did?”
A tremble of nervousness runs down my body. Crap. This bitch is probably a vampire.
“Please accept my apologies for the deception,” says the same cute-sexy voice behind me.
I spin, and find myself staring at a slim twenty-something woman gliding out from the double doors, which swing closed behind her without a sound. She’s petite and delicate, like someone stretched a faerie up to human height. Long, white hair trails after her as she moves, so graceful she’s almost ghostly. I can’t tell if she’s got white paint or powder on her face, but she’s almost as pale as her hair. The woman looks like she walked off the stage at a production of Louis XIV. Well, except for her dress. It’s fairly plain and modern, but also white and floor-length. Bare feet peek out from the hem as she pads over to us, smiling.
Ashley and Michelle both go doe-eyed at the sight of her (Ash a little more so). I get a sense of energy radiating from her, but it’s not affecting me—at least, I don’t think it is. Much. Wow, this girl is pretty.
“Hello.” She smiles and offers a hand. “I am Aurélie Merlier.”
I shake. “Hi. Uhh, Sarah Wright, but you already knew that.”
She glances at our clasped hands like I smeared dog poo on her fingers.
“Oh, what?” I ask, trying not to sound sarcastic. “Was I supposed to like kiss your fingers or something?”
She covers her mouth and giggles again. “Oh, you’re precious. I heard Mr. Ames had added one to our ranks, and I simply had to make your acquaintance.”
“You kidnapped my friends.” I smirk. “I came here ready to throw you out a window.”
Aurélie waves dismissively. “Oh, f
ret not. Your friends were in no true danger. I wanted to make sure you would come. Besides, they’re only humans… or are you the type who thinks of pet rats as cute?”
Something feels weird about her tone.
I lean toward her, pointing. “One. They are my friends. That’s more important than who’s a vampire and who isn’t. And two… I think you’re lying. You don’t really consider humans lessers.”
Ashley squeals, then whispers to Michelle, “She’s so hot!”
“And three…” I gesture at my friends. “What did you do to them?”
Aurélie’s lips spread into a wide smile. Her aristocratic posture relaxes to a friendlier pose. “It is so refreshing to finally meet someone who shares my views.”
My eyebrows knit together. “What?”
“You are correct.” Aurélie takes my hand in both of hers, stroking her fingertips over my skin in a repetitive petting motion. The touch sends weird tingles down my back. “Unlike some of our kind, I do not regard humans as lessers. We were all human at one time, and some are still quite close. I find you truly adorable.”
I glance down at her blood-red nails with the same telltale little points as mine. Though, standing this close to her, I’m pretty sure she’s not wearing makeup. The lady is white… and she’s not even trying to fake breathing.
“So… umm. Hi. Okay. We’re introduced.” I glance back at Ashley who’s basically dry-humping the sofa while staring at Aurélie. “What did you do to my friends?”
“You will come to learn,” says Aurélie, “that our kind have an array of talents. My forte is being beautiful. Those who gaze upon me cannot help but fall under my charms. You are even noticing it as well, aren’t you?” She traces a fingertip across my jaw.
I’ve never in my life had the slightest bit of sexual attraction to another girl, but as my eyes wander over her bare neck and shoulders, I start to give serious thought to experimentation. “Whoa. Yeah, I think I am.”
Aurélie glides across the room to a tall cabinet in black Japanese lacquer painted with orchids. She pulls the doors open, sets out two wine goblets, and pours blood from a fat bottle into each glass. After replacing the bottle in the cabinet, she fills two more glasses with ordinary wine. I lean back until my butt hits the sofa, almost mesmerized by her perfect, graceful motions putting the wine away and closing the cabinet.
A Nighttime of Forever Page 16
