by J. K. Beck
“Enough.”
Just saying the word aloud spurred her to action, and she shoved back from the table and marched to the sink. She dumped her coffee, splashed water on her face, and told herself sternly that the time for acting like a mooning teenager was over. She had a job to do, and with Edgar’s death it had become that much harder—and that much more important. A vampire had killed him, and she intended to inflict some serious payback on the rogues.
She threw on the clothes she found on her bedroom floor, shoved her hair into a baseball cap, then headed over to Leena’s. Only after ringing the doorbell did she remember that it was still incredibly early, but Leena answered the door so quickly that Alexis wondered if she’d been expecting her.
“I thought you might come,” she said. “Now that Edgar’s dead, you’ve lost one of your major sources for tracking the toothy bastards. You’re going to need another mole in the task force.”
The words were harsh and Alexis gaped at her friend, then reached out to touch her arm. “Are you okay?”
Her eyes softened and a soft smile touched her mouth. “I’m sorry. Yes. I’m fine. I’m just so—I don’t know. I can’t believe he’s dead. I think I’m processing anger right now. Grief will come.” She stepped away from the door, shifting her attention away from Alexis and toward the floor. “Come in.”
“I’m alternating between grief and anger,” Alexis admitted.
“I just wish I’d already figured out how to do a capture spell,” Leena said. “We could have used it on that bitch of a vampire last night, and you could have staked her.” Leena had recently come up with the idea of devising a spell that would hold a vampire in a mystical prison at least long enough for the hunter to move in and stake him. “Instead, you had to rely on Sergius. And if he hadn’t been there, we’d probably both be dead.”
“But he was there,” Alexis said firmly. “And there’s no point kicking yourself over what-ifs. You’ll get it eventually. Are you any closer?”
“I am, actually.” Leena’s smile was cold, and Alexis was once again struck by how much Edgar’s death had impacted her friend. She seemed harder now, and while Alexis had come over hoping for comfort, right then she felt removed from Leena, as if they were business associates rather than friends. She cleared her throat and managed a smile. “That’s great.”
“It is,” Leena agreed. “I’ve got a new perspective on things,” she added with a laugh. “A new lease on my magic.” She smiled as if at a private joke, then shook it off and aimed a real grin at Alexis. “It’s not perfect yet, but I’m getting very, very close. Of course, the biggest problem is that I don’t yet have a way for you to operate the spell, so I’d have to go with you on the hunt.” She tapped her leg. “Obviously that’s not happening. But I’ll work it out. I’ve had a long time to think about just what to do.”
“Did you try to track Tori’s killer?”
“I did. No luck. Either he’s dead or he’s not on the prowl.”
“Too bad. I could use a hunt right now. I’m at loose ends. Edgar’s death was like a stake through my heart, you know? And at the same time, part of me is mourning the fact that I’ve lost my connection to the LAPD. I know I’m not really being a heartless bitch, but I still feel like a shit for thinking about how much I’ve been inconvenienced when it’s Edgar who’s dead.” She blinked, and the tears that had been welling in her eyes ran down her cheeks.
“Well, it’s not like you don’t have another way. Now that you’re cozy with that vampire, he can help, right? Isn’t that supposedly his whole raison d’être? To kill other vampires?”
Alexis brushed the tears away, the motion hiding her frown. Leena’s business-like approach was disconcerting, but she was also right. Except that Serge was gone.
“Gone?” Leena said when Alexis told her as much. “You can’t let Sergius go. He told you he knows who’s organizing these rogues. Make him take you to their leader. Use him. You’ve made this your mission—you can’t back out because you made the mistake of spreading your legs for him.”
Alexis winced a bit from Leena’s vulgarity, but at least that explained the coldness. Leena was no fool; of course she’d figured out that Alexis had slept with Serge. And considering how much she despised vamps, it only made sense that she’d be a bit edgy. And the truth of it was, Alexis probably deserved the reality check. Serge was a vampire, after all. A vampire. One of the creatures that Alexis had dedicated her life to hunting.
Except that what she thought she knew about vamps didn’t fit with what she’d learned about Serge. More important, it didn’t fit with what she felt for him.
In the end, she didn’t even stay an hour at Leena’s. She told her friend that she was going to go home so that Leena could continue working on the capture spell and Alexis could think about alternative ways for tracking the rogues. She promised she’d also think about how to contact Serge again, but Alexis wasn’t sure that was going to happen; he’d wanted to leave, and she wasn’t inclined to beg him to come back.
She ended up spending the day at loose ends, filling in the time with a lot of naps, which made sense considering how little she’d slept the night before. But the naps weren’t entirely restorative. She ended up dreaming of Serge, and she woke up at dusk feeling edgy and needy and bitterly alone. All the more so when reality struck her once again, and she remembered that Edgar was truly gone.
Even the hours she spent working out didn’t take the edge off, and when she was well and truly frustrated with herself she went down to the Batcave, among all the expensive equipment that her parents’ money had bought. She sat in front of the $12.99 police band radio and settled in to listen. It wasn’t ideal, but it was mindless, and with luck maybe she’d hear a call in which the dispatcher said more about the injury than she actually should.
Amazingly enough, after two hours of mind-numbing, static-filled chatter, that’s exactly what happened. A woman had been attacked in an alley and the paramedics were called in. A neck wound. The victim died en route to the hospital, but detectives were needed at the scene.
Bingo.
She’d hit the scene, snag some dust, and get Leena to do her thing. With luck, she’d find something to kill tonight. At the very least, she’d be in motion, and her mind would be on something other than Serge and how quickly he’d rushed away from her after what she’d considered a night of uncommon bliss.
“We should leave Los Angeles,” Jonathan said. He was fidgeting in front of Derrick’s desk, his usually meticulous hair sticking out in all directions.
Derrick fought the urge to slap the younger vamp down. He was scared; Derrick got that. But at the moment, Derrick wasn’t interested in mollycoddling his men. No, he was interested in revenge.
“Bella’s dead,” he said flatly. Jonathan was right; no other conclusion could be drawn. “Do you think I cared nothing for her? That I would leave this place without seeing her avenged?”
The younger vamp ducked his head. “I’m sorry. It’s just that everything seems to be going so wrong lately. Maybe we should just leave until things cool down.”
“Are you scared?”
Jonathan shook his head.
“Don’t lie. It doesn’t suit you. Here.” He lifted his wrist to his mouth and bit down hard, setting the blood to flow. “Drink, and be restored.”
Jonathan genuflected, then came around Derrick’s desk, knelt in front of the elder vampire, and drank.
The power. Such glory, such delicious exultation simply from knowing that his strength was being drawn into these disciples. He let his head fall back, closed his eyes, and simply gave himself to Jonathan.
After a moment, the younger vampire released his wrist, then stood, bowed, and moved back around the desk. He seemed to glow with power now, and Derrick could feel the strength and courage rising in the boy.
“Has your fear faded?”
“It has,” Jonathan said. “And my mind is clear. So please understand that it is not out of fear that I
speak, but from intellect.”
Derrick frowned, irritated that the boy hadn’t fallen into step, but he waved at him to continue anyway.
“There are League members in Europe, Derrick. Your teachings may not be widely known there, but those who follow you are loyal. We can go now, then return to Los Angeles when the timing is better suited for success.”
“The timing is excellent now. Trust me. I have reason to stay here.”
“You don’t even know for sure that Sergius is in town.”
“I believe that he is,” Derrick said.
“Because of the sketch?” Derrick had shown it to all of his lieutenants. “Even if he was here, there’s no guarantee that he’s stayed. Not only that, but have you considered that it might be Sergius who’s killing us?”
“The cause of the desiccations, you mean?”
“Exactly. What if he’s targeting the League?”
Derrick couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his lips. “Why the hell would he? You’ve never met him. Serge is a wild thing, a man after my own heart. You wouldn’t believe the things that I’ve watched him do. He’s a killer, my young friend. Serge’s only friends are pain and death.”
“Our pain? Our death?”
But Derrick wasn’t going to listen to such nonsense. Jonathan didn’t know Sergius, whereas Derrick’s fondest memories were of the two of them traveling together. Killing together.
“You needn’t waste any more thought on him. It’s the girl I’m concerned with. The girl who’s been hunting us. The girl who took my Bella from us.”
Jonathan bowed his head. “I’ll happily destroy her, with your permission.”
“No. I wish to do it myself. Bella didn’t tell me where the girl lives, but she found papers. Go to her apartment. Find out who the woman is. When you have the information in hand, we’ll go pay her a visit together. But fair warning, Jonathan. This kill belongs to me.”
CeeCee wasn’t as interested in the Xbox as she pretended to be, although it did feel good to sit on the couch and mindlessly shoot monsters. That was the trouble—monsters. Because now she was a monster, wasn’t she? A vampire.
Maybe even worse.
She’d eavesdropped last night when Luke went into his office to talk with his friend Nick and then later with that PEC agent, Doyle.
They were worried about Serge. About the fact that he might be killing humans. And that he might be doing some really weird shit to some other vampires.
Not that she cared, she told herself. She was still mad at him. And she was going to stay that way for a long, long time.
But if they were worried about him, then that must mean they were worried about her, too.
She closed her eyes, dropped her remote hand to her lap, and just let it lie there. She was tired and antsy. She’d slept for a few hours that afternoon, but not long enough. She would have liked to sleep for a couple more hours, but that had been impossible. Too many thoughts in her head.
She felt the couch shift, and she opened her eyes to see Sara sitting next to her, smiling that smile. CeeCee liked Sara. She reminded her of Mrs. Dawson, her fifth-grade teacher. The one who told her how smart she was and used to invite her to the school on weekends to make posters for the classroom. CeeCee knew that the room had more posters than it needed because of all the weekends they spent together, but she was so grateful to be out of the house—away from her mom and Burt—that she never said anything. She was afraid that if she did Mrs. Dawson would quit inviting her.
“You doing okay?” Sara asked. CeeCee shrugged. She was still pissed at Serge, of course. But she had to admit that it was okay here. They let her go down to the beach—day or night, since she wasn’t light-sensitive yet like Luke. And they’d fixed up a room for her.
Sara set a plate of cookies down on the table. “You need the blood to survive, but I still haven’t lost my taste for food. I’ve even found that it helps keep the daemon down. Memories of pre-daemon times, maybe.” She glanced sideways at CeeCee. “Still no stirrings?”
“Nothing,” CeeCee said. It was weird talking about the daemon. Her stepfather had always said that she was an evil girl. That she’d been born bad. If that was true, her daemon should be ripping her apart. “I mean, I’m hungry,” she added, “but that’s normal, right? When you’re new?”
Sara squeezed her hand. “That’s normal.”
“Serge is supposed to be the one telling me these things, isn’t he?” She wanted to sound all cool and matter-of-fact, but she couldn’t keep the anger out of her voice.
“You don’t like it here?”
“No, I do. You and Luke are great.” She managed a self-deprecating snort. “Nicest place I’ve ever been, that’s for sure. But …” She trailed off with a shrug.
“Serge will be back,” Sara said.
“He shouldn’t have left.” CeeCee hated how whiny she sounded. How needy.
“No,” Sara said, “he probably shouldn’t have.”
CeeCee looked at her more closely, surprised that Sara was telling her the truth. Talking to her like she mattered. Like she deserved to know what was really going on.
“Would it be selfish of me to say that even if he shouldn’t have, I’m glad he did?”
“Really?” Her voice sounded needy, and she hated that. She wanted to be all cool and adult.
“Really,” Sara said. “I can’t have kids now that I’m a vampire, and, well, I’m not saying you’re a kid, but I will say that it’s nice to have you here. I like hanging out with you. So does Luke. He had a daughter once, you know. And even after all this time, he still misses her. Maybe it sounds a little presumptuous, but having you here fills a gap for both of us.”
CeeCee’s chest felt tight and she nodded, hoping she wouldn’t do something embarrassing like cry. “I’m glad. I like it here, too.”
“But it doesn’t make the hurt go away, does it?”
CeeCee looked up at Sara, relieved that she understood. “Is it because he’s the one that made me? Is that why it matters so much?”
“Partly. That and he saved you from something horrible. But at the same time he pushed you into this completely unfamiliar world, where you don’t even know your own body anymore. He should have stayed around. Made sure you understood what was happening to you.”
“Then why didn’t he?”
“I don’t know exactly. But Serge has walked this earth for a very long time, and when you’re that old, sometimes things get bottled up. He probably needs to work through stuff. But I promise, it doesn’t have anything to do with you.”
CeeCee nodded, because she could tell that Sara really believed that. But if Serge was the monster that Nick and Luke thought he was, then it had everything to do with her. And she wanted to talk to him. Wanted to know the truth. About what he’d done. And about what she was.
Heck, she wanted to so bad it almost felt like he was right there with her. Like he was watching over her. Some vampire version of a guardian angel.
But he couldn’t be, could he?
She shot a glance toward the window and realized that night had fallen once again. The ocean that had glowed a brilliant orange the last time she’d looked was now black with frothy gray waves.
He couldn’t really be out there, could he?
She told herself it was wishful thinking, and she’d seen enough crap over her sixteen years to know that wishful thinking was nothing short of stupid.
Still, there was that feeling. That burning in her veins. Like something was coming. Something was near.
Serge.
She stood up, pulling her hand away from Sara.
“CeeCee? Are you okay?”
“Yeah. I’m just … I don’t know. Antsy.”
“Is it—”
“My daemon?” CeeCee answered. “No.”
“You’re sure?”
CeeCee nodded. “Totally. I just want to take a walk. I’m still all pissed off at Serge. I guess I just feel like walking it off. Is that okay? Can I g
o outside? I like the ocean.”
“Of course you can,” Sara said, her expression making CeeCee wonder if Sara saw through the lie. Except how could she, because CeeCee wasn’t really lying. She was antsy, and she did love the ocean.
So what if she also wanted to see Serge? Because she had to see him. She had to know what he was—and she needed to know what that made her.
Serge stood across the street from Luke and Sara’s Malibu house, his hands clenched at his sides as he fought down the rising daemon and the writhing, spitting beast.
He’d felt their gnawing power ever since he’d left Alexis. With her, they’d been calm, controlled, and he’d been the stronger for it. But away from her the darkness returned, and he’d locked himself underground, taking refuge in the first abandoned building he’d found after he’d fled.
Alone, he battled it back down. But he wasn’t truly alone. She was in his thoughts—Alexis. That door was closed, but the memory of her remained, and though it sent melancholy coursing through his veins to think of her, he did it anyway, reveling in the recollection of her scent, her touch, the sweet caress of her hair against his skin. And most of all the way she’d looked at him, like she saw something good inside. Something that he could cling to and cherish and try to believe.
How he’d fought and fought with his darkness until the sun finally set and he’d crawled out into the night, letting his mind go and his body take him until it led him here. To CeeCee. To the girl who’d made him a hero in Alexis’s eyes. Maybe by seeing her again he could see himself that way, too. Because if he didn’t, he was certain that without Alexis at his side, he’d eventually lose himself to the lure of the dark—no matter how valiantly he fought.
“Spying on me?”
He whipped around to face CeeCee.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice almost a snarl. He didn’t want her to see him like this, to catch the scent of his self-pity. “Luke and Sara will wonder where you are.”
“Sara knows I’m outside.” She plunked down onto the ground next to him, looking calm and happy and perfectly well adjusted.
