“For a mortal!” I slapped him on one broad shoulder.
Listening to him laugh, I stomped over to the couch to yank my boots on. Once I had the first one half-laced, Kent came over, squatted beside me, and started lacing the second knee-high beautiful monstrosity. After helping me lace myself into my wicked-ass boots, he stood and offered me a hand up.
“You know I kid,” he said, using his deep singer’s voice. The tone that always gave me delicious shivers. Which he knew. “You look delectable.”
Smiling, I let him pull me up and followed him out the front door to the car.
We joked and teased as usual on the way to his gig, making up roles to play or pulling out old ones we’d used before. Ancient Transylvanian Vampires just introduced to the modern world, Vampire Daddy and Vampire Daughter, old man lecturing a whippersnapper, the works. We pulled into a public lot down the block from the Half-Moon, laughing for almost no reason, unable to stop.
As we got to the door, Kent made exaggerated “quit it” gestures at me, slicing at his neck with a finger. I slapped my hand over my mouth, sniggering, while he tried to hold his own giggles in. The bouncer, a large man dressed in funereal black, did not find us funny.
“Kent Durand, with Dark Rage . . .?” Kent gave the name a soft “G,” pronouncing “Dark Rage” as if it were an expensive French meal.
Raising his eyebrows, the bouncer scanned a clipboard in his hand. With a shrug that said he didn’t control who the owner hired, he let us in before the people in line. We slid in the door and I managed to stop laughing.
The Half-Moon was huge and dark. The building was an old warehouse-turned-club, the walls painted black, the steel rafters left exposed. Spicy smoke hung in the air from a fog machine, along with the dizzying smell of wine and sweat. A handful of green marble tables lined one wall, lit only by the strobe lights. And the crowd! They filled the club, and every one of them looked like they had their own personal wardrobe staff. A wiry-thin pair of blond andros looked me up and down in their skin-tight leather and David Bowie makeup. A dark-skinned, dark haired woman floated past, all luxurious curves wrapped tight in a red corset. She met my eyes and touched her tongue to her upper lip as she went by. I knew no one else here was like me, but I felt like I had dropped into a vampire movie.
“Told you you’d like it.” Kent leaned close to my ear to be heard over the music. I grinned.
The music already had me twitching. The dark and smoky floor invited me in, bodies moving together under the strobe, throbbing in time to the music.
“I’m gonna dance,” I yelled to Kent. “When are you guys on?”
“Nine,” he yelled back. He leaned close, letting me smell the musk and spice from his hair. “I’ll see you after, okay?”
I nodded and blew him a kiss as he backed away. He caught it, then vanished between the dancers.
I slid into the people on the floor. Body pressed to body, I found how to move with them. Between the hard beat, the soft skin and the thick air, it didn’t take long for me to stop thinking completely and just feel. My mind was gone, better than any drug could do to me anymore. I danced, breathing in the heavy smells and feeling my stomach rumble faintly in response. I didn’t feel all that hungry, but maybe feeding tonight would be fun.
A long, long time later someone called my name. Blissed out on the music, I barely heard it. By the time I noticed, I got the feeling that they’d called me a few times.
“Ian!”
Kent’s voice. He sounded anxious. I turned to find him, but I couldn’t see him anywhere. Just dancers, crowding in and living their own personal high. I shook my head and tried to find the warm place again.
It was like trying to find a radio station out of range. My body couldn’t find the beat. People jostled into me instead of moving with me. I had one ear half-tuned for Kent’s voice, in case he called for me again. My focus had turned to static.
“Kent Durand, please come backstage, Kent Durand, please come backstage.”
The voice cut through the piped-in music, jerking me to a complete stop.
Something’s wrong.
A sensation of ice washed over me.
Nothing’s wrong, I told myself. Kent’s just late again. That’s all.
I glanced at my watch, a delicate silver thing mixed in with some bangles on my wrist. I always wore some sort of watch since the change. Nine-thirty. Kent had been on his way backstage. Being late was one thing. This was ridiculously late.
My hand went for my pocket automatically, reaching for my cell to send Kent a quick text, find out what was up. This dress didn’t have pockets. I didn’t have my cell. I could have stowed it in a clutch and carried it with me, if I didn’t hate keeping track of purses. I glanced around instead, hoping to maybe find him making chit-chat with the andro twins, trying to grab a quick bite before the show, losing track of time. I didn’t spot him. He was too tall and too blond and too handsome to miss, and I didn’t see him.
I did notice Dark Rage’s drummer, Angelo, talking to a guy in a suit. I took the suit for the owner or manager. Whatever Angelo had to say involved a lot of hand motions. Mostly calming ones. I started to push my way over, intent on finding out who saw Kent last and where. If he was feeding, I needed to be the one who found him.
The warm, soft bodies I’d danced with a minute ago were all elbows and knees and in my way now. I used my thinness to get between them, slipping in and out of free space like a fish, and finally made the stage.
“Hey, Ian,” Jason said. Angelo kept talking with the suit.
“Hey, Jason – you know where Kent is?”
He flipped long brown hair out of his eyes and shrugged. “Naw, I ain’t seen or heard from him all night. You know where he is?”
“I came here with him,” I said. “I left him on the floor. You sure none of you guys saw him?”
“No one’s seen him since we got here.”
“Hm,” I said vaguely. “I’ll see if I can round him up.”
My chill came back. Temperature didn’t affect me anymore; this was sheer worry.
He’s out feeding, that’s all. I’ll go find him before people start looking for him and catch him with some poor hapless mortal . . . I shrugged at Jason, turned to make my way through the crowd again –
And saw her.
I found myself looking at a woman on the other edge of the floor, straight into her silver eyes. I didn’t know why I’d turned to look at her. Didn’t know why something in those eyes grabbed me and made me keep looking. Without knowing why, I stared at her from between people and froze like a rabbit that knows it’s been spotted.
She was beautiful. Those huge, nearly glowing eyes were set in a delicately sculpted face; soft, kissable pink lips gave me a pouty smile. Honey blond hair spilled over her shoulders, down over the shoulders of the man she held in front of her.
Kent?
My eyes popped. It had to be. His curly blond hair, his broad shoulders, his skimpy show-it-off shirt.
“Kent!” My voice didn’t make it over the music. I started shaking.
“You ain’t gonna find him like that, it’s too loud in here,” Jason told my back. I ignored him.
I tried to push through the people, watching Kent and the woman. She saw me coming.
She smiled. A wide, poisonous grin that made me stop short.
While my skin tingled, she shot away, taking Kent with her. The way she moved startled me. Slick, like a rat or a snake. Kent’s head flopped to one side as she swept him away. My stomach climbed into my throat.
“Kent!” I screamed, with no more effect than the first time.
I started shoving people aside. I didn’t back-talk myself. Kent’s head kept flopping forward limply in my mind, over and over. Despite all the people in the way, I somehow got to the quiet little corner she’d been standing. She was long gone by then, but I saw which way she’d gone.
I turned to go after her. My first step landed in something wet. A lot of something wet
. I knew I was going to slip one instant before I did.
Shit.
My foot went out from under me. My teeth cracked together as I sat, hard.
Dammit! Somebody’s spilled drink . . .
Furious at whatever idiot had tripped me up, I started to pick myself off the floor. A familiar smell stopped me.
Blood.
I knew it. The scent made me faintly hungry. I hadn’t slipped in a drink. I leaned in for a better look. The liquid gleamed red, but the lighting of the club turned everything red. I sniffed again – I didn’t want it to be, begged it not to be – that smell could only be blood. As I pulled away, the scope of the whole puddle came into my view. I had to measure it in feet.
Never reveal yourself, Kent had told me, over and over, and this, I was hysterically sure, would reveal me. Sitting on the floor beside a huge puddle of blood obviously meant I was a vampire. I had to get away.
Before I could, a dark, red lump caught my attention, lying in the middle of the giant puddle of blood. It could only be a heart. Nothing so neat and tidy as a valentine. More like hamburger.
A pig’s heart?
The thought died as soon as it came. I knew the sweet-iron smell of blood all too well, and that wasn’t animal. Animal blood smelled weaker, saltier.
This wasn’t human, either, I realized. It smelled too rich. Vampire blood. But the only vampire here besides me was Kent.
Kent’s . . . oh, no. I skittered back from the puddle, choking and repeating that to myself. No, no, it can’t be him. It’s not.
“Oh, my God!” someone said somewhere above me. The noise startled me, made my throat clench closed.
Never reveal yourself! Kent’s voice drilled in my head.
Woman. Kent. Blood. Crowd.
Get away. Get away!
I scrambled to my feet and ran.
OUTSIDE
Sebastian stood at the end of the line against the brick wall, arms crossed, watching. This club frequently offered easy feeding or he would not have been there. Too crowded. Too loud. He didn’t intend to go inside. The few people leaving alone gave him plenty of opportunity.
When the girl came pounding out of the club, eyes wide, he barely glanced at her. Just long enough to notice that with every other step, she left a red footprint.
Odd.
He checked her face, searching for signs. He couldn’t be certain, but she was pale. He thought he saw the points of two sharpened canines under her lip.
What could this be?
Casually, while people called after her or asked each other questions, Sebastian pushed away from the brick wall and followed her.
IAN
I ran to the car without looking back. I was sure that if I let myself, I’d see someone behind me. I could practically hear footsteps following me. But I made it to the car and no one got me.
With shaking hands I felt at my hip, looking for my copy of the car keys – except I didn’t have them. No pockets. I’d left my keys at home, on my dresser. Right next to my cell.
“Dammit!” I slid my hand down my hip again, then again. “Dammit, dammit, dammit!” I punched the side of the car.
“Something I can help you with?”
I whirled, throat closed tight. Someone had followed me. A young man, late teens, maybe; tall, dark blond, and too lovely for his own good – big blue eyes and delicate features. He wore an utterly bland expression, watching me freak out.
Running was my first impulse, followed by the urge to stiff-arm him like they showed us in Women’s Self-Defense. I got hold of myself before I could act on either one. He was probably just a curious bystander, looking out for me. No prob, right? Yeah. Right. Okay.
My breath came out too hard. I tried to breathe gently.
“No, I don’t think so,” I lied. “I left my keys at home, I guess, my roommate and I share this car, so it really is mine, except he drove here, with me, of course, and he ditched me is all, and I didn’t figure on him ditching me, so I didn’t bring my own set, and now I don’t know where he is, you know, probably with some bimbo or something and I guess I could just call a cab. Thanks, though.” I heard myself babbling and clamped my teeth shut. Tried to make it look like a smile.
A small handful of people peered at me from behind him, all dressed for the Half-Moon and all watching the show. Just what I needed. An audience.
The kid raised an eyebrow, a gesture so exquisite that despite everyone staring at me, despite the craziness going on, I myself taking a long look at this pretty boy.
Yum. Very pretty boy.
Except he’s not buying it.
My throat tightened again.
He gestured at my foot. “You look as though you need a doctor or a police officer to me.”
I followed the sweep of his hand. Blood. All over my boot. It went up my leg and ended below my knee.
“No, no, I’m fine . . .” I faltered.
My mind centered on one, clean, easy thought: Run for it.
The kid leaned closer to me. I leaned away, giving him a glare meant to make him back off. It didn’t work. Running seemed like a better and better idea.
He sniffed. Eyes pinned to my boot, he sniffed me like a dog.
“Excuse me!” I shouted, ready to slug him.
Deep blue eyes came back up, meeting mine and holding me as tight as if he’d grabbed me.
“I have a car,” he said mildly. “I could give you a ride. It would save you cab fare.”
“I don’t think –”
He smiled. Not a friendly smile, or a manic grin – no, it wasn’t even a smile. He’d simply pulled back his lips and I’d mistaken it for a smile.
Despite having a pair myself, his fangs shocked me. I jerked away and gasped like an idiot. He dropped his upper lip and cocked his head at me.
“Sorry,” I managed. “I never –”
He glanced around suddenly. Looking around at the people surrounding us. People watching and listening, wondering about the blood on my boot. I shifted uneasily and trailed off.
“It is never wise to accept rides from strangers,” he said, holding my eyes. I knew what he meant. Not here. “I promise you, I am only out to help.”
Help? I blinked once. Did he mean that, or had he said it for the people listening in? Did he have any idea what I needed help with? Oh, please!
“I . . . I suppose I could use a lift,” I said.
“This way,” he said, and turned.
I blinked at his back. I hadn’t thought Seattle had any other vampires . . . well, I’d never thought about it. I’d never seen any; why think about them?
But stranger or not, vampire or not, he kept walking, and he was all I had. I ran to catch up.
The car he led me to belonged in a movie, a sleek, fast-looking thing like an action hero would drive. Blue-black, the windows tinted too dark to see inside. It came up to my waist, if that. He remotely unlocked the doors as we approached. I didn’t realize how bad I’d started shaking until I watched my hand quake as I reached for the door. I got in and almost fell into a seat that was just about on the ground. He started the car and pulled away from the Half-Moon, leaving curious eyes behind.
“What happened?”
I blinked, rubbing at eyes that had started to mist over with blood. “I’m sorry. I just . . . I’ve never met another . . . another one. Of us. I didn’t mean to jump. I hope no one noticed.”
“In the club,” he informed me. “What happened in the club?”
Oh. That.
“Someone grabbed Kent. There was blood all over the floor, and a heart –” I looked at my bloody boot. Now it had made a bloody mess on the floor of his fancy car.
“Did you see who grabbed Kent?” He was apparently unconcerned about the blood.
“A woman,” I told him. “A scary looking woman.”
“Whose blood was on the floor? You do know the difference between our blood and mortals’.” He looked at me, the look you give a little kid when you’re not sure they’ll un
derstand a question.
“Of course I do,” I said, a touch defensive.
“Whose was it?”
“A vampire’s, I don’t know whose. Why are you leaving the Half-Moon? Kent’s probably still there. We have to find him, we have to make sure he’s okay!”
“He is not likely to be okay,” the young man said. “At this point, if he is still alive we can do him no good.”
He said it without any hesitation, so for a second I thought I hadn’t heard him right.
“No good!” I yelled. “You turn this car around right now, you hear me? Now! What do you mean no good?” My fingers clutched the edge of the seat.
He didn’t turn the car around. “I mean that if he has lost his heart, he is dead.”
His words punched me in the chest, in that sudden way where you know you’ve been hit but you can’t feel it yet. I waited for him to tell me he didn’t mean that, or ask what I thought he said.
He didn’t speak. Just watched me, waiting for me to freak out some more. When I sat and stared, he turned back to the road. “We can survive quite a bit, but losing a heart or a head will kill us instantly. If Kent has lost either, he is dead. I am guessing he has.”
“No, no, no, no.” I shook my head. “Our hearts . . . I mean, they don’t even beat. How could that . . . how could he die?”
“I do not understand it myself,” the boy said in a flat tone. “I only know that it is true. Heart wounds are fatal.”
I didn’t say anything to that.
Fatal.
“I’m going to leave you on the corner here, with the car,” the boy said. “I’ll be back to pick you up. I’m going to go back to the club to find out what happened. Do you understand?”
I stared out the windshield, frozen. Dead. It didn’t feel real.
He pulled over to a side street and parked.
I stayed still. Dead.
“My name is Sebastian.” He held out one hand. I took it automatically, letting him shake my hand. “What’s your name?” he asked carefully.
“Ian.” As soon as the word made it out of my mouth, my eyes welled up. Dead. No, no, no. I just saw him, he couldn’t be . . .
“Ian,” the boy repeated, watching me close.
In the Dark Page 2
