by Lili Zander
Besides, Harek Levitan just threatened Nero’s mother. I can’t leave him here by himself; he’s not in a good place. His expression is dark, and his jaw is locked, and his hands are clenched into fists.
“I’ll be fine,” Nero replies. He forces a smile on his face. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep Raven out of trouble.”
“Hey,” I protest indignantly. “I don’t get into trouble.”
Saber’s eyes twinkle. “Mm-hmm. If you say so, kära.”
I hug Zeke and Saber tightly, and then they leave. I stare at the door after they’ve gone, my nerves jittery. “Do you think it’s a trap?”
Nero shakes his head. “Masev sounded genuinely spooked. You can’t fake that. Saber’s being cautious, that’s all.” He looks up at me. “Don’t worry, they’ll be fine.”
“I hope so.” I wipe my palms on my utilitarian black pants. “So far, we’ve landed in Starra, stumbled on a dead body, been threatened by a sociopath, and now, this.” I move next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. “Are you doing okay?”
The moment the words leave my mouth, I cringe. Levitan threatened to unleash the virus on the colony his mother lives in. Of course, Nero’s not doing okay. “Sorry, that was a stupid question.”
He laces his fingers in mine. “I want to break every bone in Harek Levitan’s body,” he admits. “It’s probably not a healthy response.”
“Seems appropriate to me.”
He chuckles. “Logically, I know there’s nothing I can do. My mother made a choice to live in Fateh. I’ve sent her a message. Ragnar will do his best to evacuate the colony. There are less than five thousand residents. One colony ship will do the trick.”
“There’s a ‘but’ there…”
“What if my mother doesn’t want to evacuate?”
“Why wouldn’t she leave? A virus is about to wipe out Fateh’s population. It has killed every vampire it’s infected. The threat is real.”
Nero’s expression is resigned. “People make illogical decisions all the time.” He exhales in a long breath. “My mother finds solace in Fateh. She hasn’t left the colony in seven years. I understand that she doesn’t want to go back to Merin; it’s filled with painful memories for her. But I’ve begged her to visit me in Starra, and she’s always refused.”
Poor Nero. He must be going out of his mind with worry. I cast about for a topic of conversation to try to take his mind off his mother. “What are the Deeps?”
“Starra is a planet of towers,” he replies. “Most are two thousand levels high. The Shayde elite live in the higher levels. This apartment is Level 1999, for example.”
I nod.
“Saber lives in Family Hafsson’s quarters. It’s also in Central Tower, on Level 1990. Zeke and I aren’t from rich and powerful vampire families. Zeke lives in Jeune Tower. That’s four towers away from here, due north. I live in Wyvern, six towers east of Central. But even though we live in different towers, we’re roughly of equal rank. I live on Level 1827, and Zeke lives on Level 1831.”
“Sounds complicated.”
“Of course, it’s complicated. It’s Starra. Everybody’s caught up in their own importance.” He kisses the back of my hand, and a shiver of desire runs down my spine. You can’t jump him, Raven, I tell myself sternly. There’s a dead body in the next room. It’s just too macabre.
Nero’s still talking about Starra’s towers. I pull my attention back to him. “The lower you go, the more dangerous it is, and very few people venture below Level 500. Those are the Deeps. There are no drones there. No cameras, no security.”
“Why did Saber tell you not to do anything stupid?”
He looks faintly embarrassed. “The Deeps are filled with the people that nobody cares about. The drug addicts, the alcoholics, the poor, and the hopeless. They all end up down there, and they’re desperate. Things happen to them.” His expression hardens. “I don’t like to see people prey on the vulnerable. I’ve been poor and hungry, and I’ve been desperate. So, whenever I’m on Starra, I do what I can to prevent it.”
“How?” I put together all the pieces, and a flash of insight strikes me. “Hang on. You’re a vigilante, aren’t you?”
He runs his hands through his hair and looks everywhere but at me. “I guess you could call it that.”
He’s so embarrassed he’s almost blushing. I can’t bite back my delighted smile. Nero, like all my vampires, has a very strong sense of right and wrong, and he’s not afraid to take matters into his own hands. I can totally picture him patrolling the Deeps, watching out for the people there.
I consider the situation. Levitan threatened Nero’s mother, and even though he’s trying to hide it, he’s worried sick about her. He keeps glancing at his comm, undoubtedly to check if she’s received his message.
He needs an outlet for all that anger and worry. And hey, if we can do some good at the same time? Even better.
I give Nero my best persuasive glance. “Will you take me there?”
His eyebrow rises. “Now?”
“Why not? We have no idea how long Saber and Zeke are going to be. This is a very nice apartment, but I don’t want to be stuck in it.” I take a deep breath. “Please don’t tell me it’s too dangerous.”
He flashes me a grin. “I’m not Saber. Sure. If you want to go, we’ll go.”
“Really?” I can’t believe my luck.
“You’ll be with me,” he says, with typical vampire arrogance. “No one will bother you. Besides, Mazer has a security detail on both of us. We’ll be perfectly safe.” He gets up and holds out his hand to me. “Come on, Raven. I know a great club. We’ll get some drinks, dance a little, and hey, if we happen to run into trouble…” His smile turns vicious. “That’ll be a nice bonus.”
I jump to my feet. “Do I need to change?”
He gives me a once-over. I’m dressed casually, in a gray top and black pants. Nothing fancy or alluring, but by the time Nero finishes his slow examination, my entire body is screaming for his touch. “Women get dressed up on Starra,” he says. “You’ll stick out. Luckily, I ordered the perfect outfit before we left Merin. It’s in my apartment. Let’s swing by there first, and then we’ll take the chutes to the Deeps.”
“You got me something?” I wince, knowing that I need to think of money at some point. I have some credits—my winnings from the Night of the Shayde—but I went on a shopping spree on Antaras Seven, and it won’t last forever. At some point soon, I’ll need to look for a job. “Nero, you don’t have to buy me things.”
“I want to,” he replies easily. “Stop protesting, Raven. It’s just a dress, not a priceless set of daggers that are thousands of years old.”
He winks at me, and I groan out loud. Saber gave me the swords—the Daggers of Xerxes—back in Merin, the day a blood transfusion had failed to remove the virus from my system.
I’d been shattered that day, and too upset for his gift to fully sink in.
It’s sunk in now. I’ve asked him repeatedly to take it back—they’re far too valuable!—and of course, he’s declined every time. Saber can be pretty damn stubborn sometimes.
“Don’t remind me,” I groan, running my hand over my face. “I suggested to Saber this morning that the daggers belonged in a museum, and you know what he told me?”
Nero laughs. “I was there. I heard his response. Give it up, Raven. You’re not going to win this fight.” He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks deep into my eyes. “Let us spoil you, love.”
Another shiver of need sparks up my spine. I lick my lips. “If you keep looking at me like that,” I murmur, “We’re not going to leave this apartment.”
He bends his head toward me. He tangles his fingers in my hair and pulls me closer, and he kisses me, at first soft, then with more intensity. His tongue slides into my mouth, tempting me with the promise of pleasure, and I moan, stand on tiptoe, and kiss him back with everything I’ve got.
A knock interrupts us. Grr. I drag myself away from Nero as the fr
ont door slides open. It’s Mazer Basaran, the vampire I met earlier, Ragnar’s chief-of-staff, and he’s got a team of four containment-suit-clad soldiers with him.
“Where’s the body?”
Nero gestures to Ragnar’s bedroom. “It’s messy,” he warns. “I hope you have an iron stomach.”
Yeah, I definitely don’t want to be here for this. When I first saw the dead woman, it had been all I could do to keep from throwing up. But if I linger here, I will absolutely disgrace myself.
It’s been one shit show of a day, and we’ve only just arrived at the capital.
Nero holds out his hand, and I take it. We head out of Ragnar’s apartment. Out of the corner of my eye, I see two shapes detach themselves from the shadows. Our security.
I could really use a drink.
“Let’s go to the club.”
6
Raven
I barely had time to take in the capital when we landed. When we got to Ragnar’s apartment, for obvious reasons, I couldn’t gape at the opulence. But as we walk due east to Wyvern Tower, where Nero lives, my head swivels from side to side as I try to soak in everything.
We take a chute down from Ragnar’s apartment to Level 1990, which has walkways connecting it to the towers north, south, east, and west of it. The entire floor is a massive garden. Brightly colored birds fly over my head. A narrow stream meanders aimlessly through the greenery. Huge, showy blossoms intersperse with smaller, more delicate flowers. Benches are scattered through the gardens, and a handful of people sit there, feeding the birds and enjoying the serenity.
I’ve never seen anything like it. Gardens, for obvious reasons, weren’t a priority on Boarus 4.
“It’s lovely,” I sigh. “If I lived here, I’d be here every single day. Why isn’t it more crowded?”
Nero looks around. “It’s Central Tower, Level 1990,” he replies. “For security reasons, you need an access code to get up here.”
Ah. Got it. Cuts down on the assassination attempts.
Airy and light-filled glass walkways connect each tower with its neighbor. We cross the garden and enter the eastern walkway. Tall flowering trees in planters line the passage, filling the air with a delicate, floral scent. A few vampires pass us as we cross from Central Tower to the adjacent one, but they don’t pay me much attention. They notice me, of course, but their gazes don’t linger, and they don’t stare at me the way the vampires on Boarus 4 did.
I’m still human, but I don’t feel unwelcome here. I understand now why Saber, Nero, and Zeke had been so shocked when the waiter in the restaurant we’d gone to on Boarus 4 refused to hand me a menu. The capital isn’t perfect—I am not that naïve—but, at first glance, it’s a lot better than home.
“Central Tower mostly houses old vampire families,” Nero says as we walk. “It’s a sign of prestige to have an apartment there.” He rolls his eyes. “It’s a boring place to hang out. Zeke lives in Jeune Tower, which also houses the biggest university in Sector Zero. Jeune is filled with students. Lots of bars, cheap restaurants, bookstores, and parks. It’s very vibrant.”
“What’s your tower like?”
I’m half-expecting him to tell me that it’s filled with soldiers. Either that or mythical beasts. It is called Wyvern Tower, after all. “Wyvern is musicians and artists, mostly, interspersed with young families,” he says instead.
We reach the end of the walkway and enter another open area. This time, the space is occupied by a large market, and it’s more crowded than the gardens. Vampire and human shoppers mill about, each one dressed more elaborately than the next. A woman sweeps by me, wearing a feathered-and-sequined cloak that trails three feet behind her. Her outfit is an eye-popping shade of green and pink, the pattern giving me a headache. Her hair is a vivid shade of red, and her face is artfully made-up.
Her clothing isn’t the exception; it’s the rule. Everyone around me is dressed in bright colors and striking patterns. Back on Boarus 4, I’d laughed at Arnie Hento’s ridiculous get-ups, but the truth is, in my grey top and black pants, I’m not nondescript. I stand out.
I guess I need to go shopping. But not in this store. I catch a glimpse of the price tag on a cream-and-purple shirt and nearly faint. I’d exhaust all my winnings just on one outfit.
Nero looks at the tag too, and he winces. “Outrageous,” he comments, making me feel better. “I could have eaten for five years on Merin for the price of that shirt.”
I still need a source of money. I know that it isn’t really an issue; Saber, Zeke, and Nero will buy me whatever I want. But I’ve been taking care of myself since I was ten. Relying on them for financial support doesn’t sit well with me.
Ah well. A problem for a different day. Right now, we’re trying to keep the Empire from collapsing. Finding a job doesn’t seem a pressing priority.
“Does Saber know about your vigilante tendencies?” I ask Nero as we walk through the store.
The corner of his mouth curls up. “I try and keep it quiet, but yes.”
“And does he approve?”
“Well, you know Saber,” he says with a laugh. “Saber is a great believer in law and order, and he doesn’t exactly love that I tend to take matters into my own hands. He's part of the Empire’s power structure, so when he sees something wrong, he wants to fix it, but he also wants to fix the system that allowed it to happen. Me, I just want to punch somebody.”
“He let you beat that slaver to death.”
“Saber is idealistic, but he’s not naïve. Some people deserve to die.”
We cross another tower and traverse another walkway. As we head away from Central Tower, the passages get more crowded and livelier. Instead of flowering plants, advertisements for various holo-shows paper the walls. Forbidden Love is well represented on the billboards—Ragnar’s investment is paying dividends.
Vendors pushing carts weave through the throngs, selling nuts, fruit, and beer. Nero gives me a questioning look, but I shake my head. As fascinating as everything looks and smells, my appetite still hasn’t recovered from discovering Nasrim Dimeh’s dead body.
We pass through a food market displaying colorful produce and massive cuts of meat. The next tower has a strip of noodle shops, one right after another, each vendor loudly hawking their wares. The noodles look ordinary enough, but the broth is red in color, which makes me stop in my tracks. “Is that blood?” I ask Nero.
He takes a look. “Yes,” he says. “Human food doesn’t nourish us, but many vampires have developed a taste for it. Blood broth is a compromise.”
Humans jostle shoulder-to-shoulder with vampires. Everyone haggles at the top of their lungs. There’s a vibrancy here that was missing from Central Tower. The capital pulses with life and warmth and excitement.
Boarus 4 was cold. Not just the temperature. The air was hushed, and everyone watched what they said. The Overlord’s enforcers were everywhere, and the wrong thought would land you in the re-education camps. But here on Starra, the humans don’t appear afraid. Nobody bows to the vampires as they walk by. Nobody is giving Nero a wide berth or paying me any attention.
Starra is loud and noisy, and honestly, a little overwhelming, but my pulse quickens with anticipation as I walk through the towers.
I think I’m going to love it here.
And Harek Levitan wants to destroy it. The way he talked about humans… He’d taken the vampires by surprise. That had been obvious from their reactions.
Levitan might not be Gerra Clay, who only thought of humans as food. But he’s not much better. To him, we will always be an inferior species. What will happen if he comes to power? On Boarus 4, the blood tax was three pints a month, double what it is in Starra. We worked ourselves to the bone to pay it, and the tax kept us in indentured servitude to the Overlord. Is that Levitan’s plan for the entire Empire?
We have to stop him. We must. If we fail, millions of vampires will die, and the entire human race will be subjugated.
Nero’s apartment is spacious
but relatively sparse. “I don’t spend a lot of time here,” he says. “Come on. To the bedroom with you.”
His words send a hot throb of anticipation through me. I flutter my eyelashes at him. “That’s exactly what I want to hear,” I purr. “Forget the nightclub. Show me your bedroom.”
He laughs. The shadows disappear from his eyes. “A very tempting offer, but I’m going to have to decline. There will be time for sex later. Come on. The night is young, and the Deeps await. Put your dancing shoes on, Raven, and let me show you a good time.”
It isn’t a dress Nero has bought me. It’s a tight-fitting jumpsuit, soft to the touch and midnight blue in color. Along with the jumpsuit, Nero’s bought me undergarments in a matching shade of blue, as well as a pair of red thigh-high boots. The outfit is brighter than anything I’d pick out on my own, but when it comes to what’s appropriate attire on Starra, Nero has better instincts than me.
I strip naked and reach for the undergarments. Nero gives me a hungry look, and I wink. “You were the one who said we had to go dancing,” I quip. “I would like to point out for the record that I was happy staying in.”
He lifts his own shirt over his head, and it’s my turn to ogle. I drink him in. The muscles in his abdomen ripple as he moves, and I draw a deep, shuddering, breath. He’s a predator, powerful and dangerous. He’s beaten a man to death with his bare hands, and yet, he’s always made me feel safe, protected, and cherished.
He’s mine.
Nero reaches into his closet for a white shirt. I drag my mind out of the sexual swamp it’s fallen into and get dressed. The neckline of the jumpsuit is low, coming almost to my belly button. On Boarus 4, the outfit would be scandalous, but judging by what I saw on the way here, it’ll barely draw a second glance on Starra.
I feel very daring. A thrum of anticipation pulses in my blood. I met the vampires when I was in danger. Ever since then, we’ve been shot at, attacked, threatened… you name it, we’ve been through it. We haven’t had time for traditional forms of courtship. As many times as I’ve slept with Nero, this is only our second date.
