The difference was that Ash Night was not writing about herself, but about things she had no right to know. Dark Flame was Aubrey’s own history, which no one but he knew in total. Yet Ash Night had written his past correctly, down to the last detail.
Aubrey didn’t mind the thought of Dark Flame’s being published. In his history he had almost always been stronger than those around him. However, the others who were mentioned in the manuscript came across as often weak, and in the vampiric world, there was no worse threat to one’s position than an apparent weakness. Dark Flame had earned its author some dangerous enemies.
The vampire from the publishing company had not worked with Ash Night directly, and she must not have known about the author’s first book. Seeing Tiger, Tiger in the store today had taken Aubrey completely by surprise. The cover made it strikingly clear whom the book was about. Despite the artist’s ignorance of his subject, Aubrey had instantly recognized the portrayal of Risika. He had lived this book as well — or unlived it, as the case might be. He knew what would be printed on its pages.
Aubrey lightly touched the scar that stretched across his left shoulder, which Risika had given to him a few years ago. For the first time in nearly three thousand years he had lost a fight, and he had lost it badly. Risika could have killed him in the end. Instead, she had taken his blood and let him live. The action had opened his mind to her completely; she could now read him as easily as he could read most humans.
The sight of the book was like the thrust of a knife into his still-bleeding pride.
Aubrey had been the first of his kind to search out the author, and most of the other vampires were satisfied by the knowledge that he was dealing with the problem.
Though Jessica had requested that her true name and address remain private, Aubrey had easily pulled the information from the mind of her editor. Her town, Ramsa, New York, was only a stone’s throw away from his home in New Mayhem, one of the strongest vampiric cities in the United States. Aubrey had drifted into Ramsa to see how much of a threat this Ash Night was.
What had he expected? Anything but what he found: a seventeen-year-old human who had no apparent connection to the vampire world. She did, however, have a darkness in her aura that was almost vampiric. This close to New Mayhem, Jessica’s aura was strengthened by the vampires in the area. Humans reacted to it instinctively and drew away from her, as they had from Aubrey until he had started influencing their minds.
He had tried to influence Jessica. He should have been able to reach into her mind and tell her to stop writing. With any other human the task would have been easy, but with Jessica he had been blocked completely. That fact alone had fascinated him enough to refrain from killing her the first time he’d been given the chance.
Indeed, there were many things about Jessica that interested him despite his usual distaste for humans. Foremost was her unnerving lack of reaction when he had caught her eye earlier. Most humans would have become disoriented, momentarily trapped in his gaze, but Jessica had been unaffected.
Aubrey closed his eyes for a moment, taking a breath to calm himself. He stopped pacing and once again wore the dispassionate mask that he had developed over his many years of life.
But the craving for movement would not die as cleanly as he had hoped, so he left his room and walked down the short hallway to Las Noches.
The nightclub’s atmosphere was intense. Red strobe lights flashed through the room, disorienting everyone but those who had spent as much time inside the place as Aubrey had. Bass-heavy music pounded from speakers hidden somewhere in the shadowed ceiling, and mirrors covered the four walls. Risika had shattered every inch of these mirrors during her fight with Aubrey, so the numerous reflections were now distorted.
Until Jessica saw Las Noches, walked inside, and tried to keep her mind from spinning, she would never be able to accurately imagine the psychedelic bar and nightclub that was the dark heart of New Mayhem.
Of course, Jessica didn’t believe that New Mayhem even existed.
Now, in the hour before sunset, the crowd was the usual mix of humans and vampires. The mortals were comforted by the sunlight that still bathed the world outside; most of the vampires in the room would not hunt until after dark. The bartender on duty was an ebony-eyed girl named Kaei. With her pale skin and the curtain of ink-black hair that fell down her back, Kaei had looked like the traditional vampire even when she’d been human. She had been born in Mayhem and had been responsible for its nearly complete destruction three hundred years earlier. She had offered Aubrey her blood more than once, and in return he had probably saved her life a dozen times.
“Moira was looking for you,” Kaei told Aubrey as he approached. “She mentioned something about helping you ‘dice the writer into bite-sized pieces.’” Moira had complained many times recently that Ash Night had made her seem weak. The author had not needed to try very hard. Though Moira was strong in comparison to most others of their kind, she was one of the weakest of their line. She had been changed more than five hundred years before Aubrey but had never gained his strength.
Most of their line had been strong as humans; that was how they attracted the attention of the vampires who would ultimately change them. Fala had met and fallen in love with Moira, then changed the human woman to save her life.
Despite Moira’s weakness, she and her blood sister Fala were feared because of their reputation for being fond of causing pain. Moira had been born before the Aztecs, and shortly after she’d been changed, she had pulled the heart out of one of their priests with her bare hands.
“Fala asked for you too,” Kaei continued, her expression grim. “She was talking about turning the author into ash — making her ‘fit her name better.’” Unlike Moira, who preferred weaponry, Fala was fond of fire.
Aubrey sighed, having no desire to deal with either of the two vampires. “Maybe they could draw straws,” he answered wearily.
“Do what you will,” Kaei answered, knowing that what she said rarely mattered. She walked away without another word.
Aubrey pulled one of the unlabeled bottles from under the bar. Though not exactly sure what it was, he knew it wouldn’t harm him. He could down a liter of cyanide and not notice any effect. Some of these bottles held wine, others liquor, and others blood that was always cold. How the bar was kept stocked was a mystery, as there was rarely a bartender working and the drinks were all free.
CHAPTER 10
AUBREY WAS STILL AT THE BAR when he heard a familiar voice behind him.
“Welcome back,” Jager said in his usual cool tone. Jager was the second oldest in their line and one of the few vampires who might rival Aubrey for pure strength. However, he was rarely interested in fighting.
“Did you meet Night?” Jager asked when Aubrey did not instantly volunteer the information.
“I did,” Aubrey answered, not elaborating.
“Did you kill him?” It was an offhand question. Killing was the logical way to deal with a human who could be a threat to their kind. Whether or not she knew it, Jessica possessed truths that were dangerous to the vampire world — and she had chosen to share them.
“Her,” Aubrey corrected. “No, I didn’t kill her.”
He didn’t know quite why he hadn’t killed Jessica. It would not have been difficult, and the death would not have created much of a stir, after a few whispered words into the minds of Anne Allodola and Ash Night’s business associates.
“I hope Risika isn’t a bad loser when it comes to bets,” Jager commented. “She assumed you’d kill the author.”
“She would,” Aubrey answered dryly. What would Jessica think, he wondered, if she knew there were bets being made about her potential death?
“May I ask why you didn’t kill her?” Jager said, not disguising his curiosity.
Aubrey wondered about the answer himself. The phrase “she’s beautiful” came to mind, and of course it was true. Jessica seemed almost to embody the graceful perfection of a vampire. But
Aubrey had never before hesitated to kill someone because she was attractive.
More than her physical appearance, Jessica had a rare aura of strength about her. Aubrey remembered Ash Night’s describing him as having the same kind of aura while he had been human, but he had seen it in very few others. Risika had been one of the exceptions; that strength had drawn Aubrey to her before she had ever caught Ather’s eye. Now Jessica was another.
“Is the question too difficult?” Jager asked, his tone patronizing.
Aubrey resorted to the simplest answer. “I wasn’t in the mood.”
Jager accepted the explanation, and the two vampires sat awhile in companionable silence.
Suddenly the fiery Fala appeared in front of them.
“I see you’ve returned from your little game in the sunlight,” she purred at Aubrey. Her voice was like poisoned chocolate, deceptively smooth and sweet. As she brushed by Jager, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.
Fala was Jager’s first fledgling. Born in Egypt, she had naturally dark skin that had paled little in the almost five thousand years she’d been a vampire. Her black hair was pulled back from her face by bloodred combs, but that was the only bit of color in her otherwise black outfit.
“I suppose you’ve met Night,” Fala spat, as if the name was not one to be mentioned in polite society. “Is she quite dead, I hope? Even better, is she writhing in pain somewhere?”
“She’s alive,” Aubrey answered, not in the mood to exchange sadistic banter with Fala.
“Mind if I kill her for you?” Fala asked casually as she walked behind the bar and poured herself a drink from Aubrey’s bottle. “This is good,” she commented, holding the bottle up to the red light, which did not help to illuminate its contents. “Anyone know what it is?”
She emptied the rest of the liquid into her glass, then threw the unlabeled bottle over her shoulder. The bottle shattered, and several people at the tables turned at the sound. One human stood up and brushed glass off her jeans, but she didn’t seem upset. Breaking glass was hardly an unusual occurrence at Las Noches.
Fala sighed luxuriously as she turned back to Aubrey and Jager. “I love the sound of breaking glass. Now, about Ash —”
“No, you can’t kill her for me,” Aubrey interrupted.
“You’re going to stop me?” she asked, her voice going lower, slightly menacing.
“I have more of a quarrel with her than you do,” he answered coldly, not bothering to explain the statement.
“Unless she has drawn blood, Aubrey, you have nothing,” Fala snapped back, stalking closer to him.
Fala was referring to one of the few standing rules of their kind: blood claim. Humans, unless they lived in New Mayhem, were free prey of any vampire. However, if a human drew the blood of a vampire, that human could only be hunted by the vampire who had been harmed. Had Jessica attacked Aubrey and somehow made him bleed, Fala would have been unable to hurt Jessica without Aubrey’s permission.
“She hasn’t, and she never will,” he answered.
“You wouldn’t admit to being wounded by a human even if you had been,” Fala scoffed. She finished her drink and threw the glass over her shoulder. “But I suppose you wouldn’t be in such a good mood if you’d lost another fight.”
She said nothing more. Aubrey struck her with his mind, and she fell backward into the bar, hissing in anger. Several heads turned toward them, and a few humans chose that time to exit Las Noches; it was dangerous to be in the same room with two fighting vampires.
Jager was still nearby, and he was watching the argument with narrowed eyes.
“Would you care to repeat that?” Aubrey asked Fala, his voice cold as ice as he casually threw another bolt of power at her, causing her to double over in pain. He hadn’t even broken a sweat.
“Aubrey” Jager spoke only his name, a calm but clear warning.
Aubrey answered by drawing back his power instead of hitting Fala again. Jager would not start a fight over what had happened thus far; Fala wouldn’t appreciate the help. But even so, Aubrey knew that Jager was too fond of Fala to look the other way if she was truly threatened.
“Damn you, Aubrey,” Fala cursed. She scowled but was wise enough not to insult him again.
“Already been done,” he answered calmly.
“Damn you again!” she shouted, delivering a glare that would have stilled serpents in their dens.
“Too late,” he quipped. “And after five thousand years, I’d think you could come up with something better than that.”
Fala growled but didn’t attempt to attack him. Though she was far older than he was, he had always been stronger, and he was a better fighter. If she fought back, she would lose.
“Fine,” she snarled. “But if you don’t kill the human, or otherwise dispose of her, I will. Is that perfectly understandable to you, Aubrey?”
“Yes.”
In the next moment they were both gone, Aubrey retreating to his room. The nightclub’s heavy music reverberated through the building, but he was used to it. He fell into bed and a sleep of complete oblivion. Like most of his kind, he did not dream.
CHAPTER 11
WHEN AUBREY WOKE he brought himself to the edge of Red Rock, the forest that surrounded New Mayhem and fringed Ramsa. The ability to instantly move from one place to another was a power he used often, as he had for more than two thousand years.
The full moon was about a week away still, but Aubrey could easily sense a few untrained witches and some werewolves lurking in the busy forest. There were also several vampires nearby, all of Miras bloodline.
Ramsa was supposedly Miras territory, but that barely worried Aubrey. Mira, though ancient, was one of the weakest of their kind, and her fledglings were little stronger than most humans. Few in Miras bloodline had lived through Fala’s extermination of them a few hundred years before, and now they were hardly even considered part of the vampiric community. Most of them were so sensitive toward their prey that they only fed on animals and willing humans.
There was a party going on at a house on the edge of the woods. Shannon had unwittingly invited Aubrey to it, before he had frightened her. The house was filled with people, and the faint scent of alcohol floated from it to where Aubrey stood watching, many yards away. He easily reached out with his mind and sifted through the thoughts of those inside.
The minds he touched were hardly entertaining — either hazy from drinking, silly from joking, or angry from gossiping. He found Shannon quickly. She had drunk some beer and her defenses were down; little effort was necessary to convince her to come outside alone.
Shannon wandered absently into the woods, and jumped in surprise when she came upon Aubrey.
“Um … Hi, Alex.”
She greeted him tentatively, glancing back at the house in obvious confusion as to how she had arrived here. Before she could decide to leave, he reached into her mind and her nervousness faded.
“Shannon, right?” he asked, taking a step toward her.
“Yeah,” she answered with a coy smile. “Why are you hiding here in the —”
Sleep. Aubrey sent the command to her mind as soon as he was close enough to catch her as she fell.
She collapsed, unconscious in an instant, and he caught her without effort. He could have caught someone ten times her weight with no difficulty. Though he could control any human physically he didn’t relish the possibility that the girl would scream and attract inconvenient attention. It was easier to have her asleep as he fed. He had done this many times before.
He tilted Shannon’s head back to expose the artery, which was covered by nothing more than a thin layer of skin. His canines, which looked normal enough most of the time, extended to razor-sharp points. These fangs pierced the skin of her throat quickly and precisely, and within moments he was lost in the sensation of the rich human blood that ran over his tongue and quenched his thirst.
CHAPTER 12
CARYN HAD SENSED Aubrey’s presence even before
she saw Shannon leave the party with a dazed look on her face. She had felt the pressure of his mind on Shannon’s.
Caryn had no idea what she would do once she encountered Aubrey, but she felt compelled to follow Shannon anyway. A group of boys had bunched together at the door, and Caryn was delayed for a few minutes as she tried to slip through the throng. Once she was finally outside, it took her only a short moment to find the vampire and his prey She could easily sense Aubrey’s aura, which was like a shadow flickering just outside the normal spectrum of vision. She could feel his power slither across her skin.
This ability was her line’s gift — or curse, as some would say. Though her family the Smoke line, had always been healers, most witches were vampire hunters. Caryn had a witch’s blood, which was sweeter and stronger than a human’s, and a witch’s knowledge, which made her dangerous to the vampires. But she did not have the ability to fight. She had always known herself to be easy prey and had tried out of self-protection to avoid their kind, unless doing so meant risking an innocent person’s life.
Throughout her childhood, Caryn had been taught to respect life, and to protect it whatever the cost. She knew Aubrey too well to look the other way while he cast his lure.
“Aubrey!” she called as soon as she had found him.
The vampire was standing several yards into the woods, holding Shannon, who was motionless. Aubrey had an arm around her waist to keep her from falling, and his other hand cradled the back of her neck. His lips were at her throat. Shannon was pale but still breathing.
Aubrey!” Caryn shouted again when he didn’t respond.
Aubrey glanced up and glared at her as he continued to feed. What do you want? he growled.
Caryn jumped at the intrusion into her mind but somehow managed to find her voice. “Let her go, Aubrey.”
“Is that a threat?” Scorn laced his voice as he dropped Shannon. He mockingly licked a trace of blood from his lips.
Caryn hurried to Shannon’s side. She was unconscious but would live.
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