Once I had my outfit, I rummaged through my makeup, looking for darker colors I didn’t typically wear. When I was done, I was sporting severe charcoal-colored eyeshadow and eyeliner, and cherry-red lipstick. After teasing my hair for extra volume, I found a clutch big enough to fit the handgun—just in case.
It looked like I was really doing this. The sun was nearly down, so I could leave the apartment without garnering too much attention with the provocative way I was dressed. When I got into my car, I discovered how lucky I was to be driving alone as the skirt rode high up my thighs. Good thing I’d found black underwear. Lastly, I unstrapped my heels, so I could make the cumbersome drive into LA barefoot.
I followed a printout of the directions to the cross streets mentioned on the Vampire Nation-inspired forum. I really needed to get a smartphone, so I could simply plug in the address in the navigation app. It was an extra expense I hadn’t wanted to pay—but maybe it was time.
After nearly an hour of terrible heartburn in anticipation of what awaited me tonight—and after making a midway stop to pee—I exited the 101 and descended into an industrial neighborhood filled with graffiti and sidewalk tents. Some of the tents were lit up with flashlights from the inside. Others had lawn chairs perched beside them with the disheveled residents watching my car as it crawled past.
My heart raced while I glanced around for the intersection I’d circled on the map printout. I felt I had to pee again, but there were no open businesses around here, providing me with one more reason why I needed to get into the club. I would not be one of those girls who went on the sidewalk behind the partial cover of an open car door. No freaking way.
However, before I found the cross streets, I found the woman—the woman who didn’t belong…
I pulled to the curb to decide how to proceed. The woman was pacing the sidewalk before a chain-link fence in fewer clothes and higher heels than me. She looked like a high-class Eastern European escort, quite out of place in this shithole of a neighborhood. It was amazing the transients less than a block away were leaving her alone. But then I wondered what I was truly seeing.
Is she one of them?
The woman was watching my car like a hawk, though she didn’t walk over on her platform heels. She remained by the fence but had stopped pacing.
Goosebumps covered my skin as I sat there, watching the woman stare at me. I presumed she couldn’t see me over the glare of the headlights, but the intensity of her glare made me rethink that assumption. My clutch bag was on the passenger seat. Picturing the gun I’d stashed inside it, I was reminded I’d never fired one before. My hands shook as I unzipped the clutch and placed it back on the seat.
I was too scared to get out of my car, so I pulled away from the curb and turned onto the driveway the woman seemed to be guarding.
She sauntered around the front of the car and approached the driver’s side door with a predatory elegance I found deeply disturbing. I rolled down the window and held my breath as she bent down and rested her forearms on the door panel. She had golden hair and icy blue eyes, fair skin that almost glowed in the darkness, and a peppermint sweetness to her breath.
“You look lost, sweetheart,” the sultry woman said with a thick German accent. She proceeded to look me over, her attention stopping for a moment where my skirt no longer concealed my underwear. My cheeks were burning by the time her attention returned to my face. Her lips had curled into a vicious smile.
“No,” I said, trying to sound confident—while also attempting to inconspicuously tug down the hem of my skirt. “I’m here for admittance to Fangloria.”
The woman didn’t skip a beat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know the club is just beyond this gate. I wasn’t told anything about a password. There must be something you can do.”
“I suggest you fly home, little birdy. It’s dangerous in this neighborhood after dark.” The woman wore the same hungry expression as the man who’d attacked me and my girls. I knew in that moment that I was staring into the eyes of another one of those monsters.
“I’m part of Vampire Nation,” I said, grasping for anything I could think of.
“So? Is that supposed to impress me?” The woman returned to her full height and slapped the door before walking away. “Fly away, little birdy. It’s obvious you don’t know what you’re looking for.” As she continued toward the fence, she dismissed me with a wave of her hand. “Fly away; fly away.”
I didn’t know what to do. Afraid of what the woman was capable of, I didn’t want to simply confront her—which would also mean I’d have to put on my heels if I wished to follow her back to the fence. But I still had a very good feeling I was in the right place. Then I remembered one of the forum posts where the author had said the bitch at the gate wouldn’t let her through.
The woman in the tight dress turned back to me, her eyes glowing from the headlights aimed at her. She put her manicured hands on her slender hips and challenged me to try anything other than leave.
My whole body shook, and I definitely had to pee now. Once again, I glanced at my clutch, envisioning the weapon inside. The thought of aiming it at someone—anyone, even one such as the beautiful nightmare before me—filled me with terror.
Finally, I slunk out of the driveway, but didn’t turn back the way I’d come. I started down the road headed in the same direction as before and soon found the intersection I’d been looking for.
As I drove down the perpendicular street, the surroundings looked just as sordid and neglected. More personal tents popped up along the sidewalks, as well as clusters of stolen bikes and shopping carts. Trash lined the gutters like runoff flowing toward the sewer drain.
Between the dark buildings I passed were fences topped with razor wire, which kept all the transients on the sidewalks. The storefronts all had security gates or roll up doors and the first-floor windows had metal bars, protecting the buildings from break-ins.
I continued driving a few blocks but did a U-turn in the middle of the street since there were so few vehicles on the road. As I backtracked, I took another look at an alleyway I’d noticed previously and decided to turn in. The alley was only slightly wider than my car, and—like everything else around here—ended with a chain-link fence, so I’d be forced to back up when returning to the street. But it was here I found my first potentially promising way in. On the exterior of the right building, there was one window without bars. It was placed higher than all the other first-floor windows, but with a little help, it was certainly within reach.
I stopped just before the fence, got out of the car, and scanned the alley. None of the transients from the street had followed me in here—at least not yet. My car was parked directly below the window, which was how I’d comfortably reach it. It was small and opaque, probably leading to a bathroom, which would be an absolute godsend.
Now came the moment of truth. How desperately did I want to get in? If I was going to continue my pursuit for Fangloria, then my next step was to break into this dark building. This was something I’d never considered myself doing before the attack, but the vampire had changed everything. My family. My outlook on the world. Me.
I knew I should have dropped this new obsession. I should have stayed home with Fiona, focusing on her and keeping her safe. As much as I told myself I was doing this to keep her safe, a small part of me acknowledged I was potentially putting us both in far more danger. But against my better judgment, I couldn’t turn back. I already felt too invested and needed to see tonight through to the bitter end.
I grabbed my heels before climbing onto the hood of the car. With my shoes in one hand and my clutch in the other, I approached the small frosted window. After one more glance over my shoulder to ensure I was alone, I used the clutch to break the glass.
It didn’t shatter as cleanly as I’d hoped, and I used the edge of the clutch to break out the remaining shards stuck in the frame. Most of the broken glass had fallen inward, but a few small
pieces rained down on the hood of my car, nipping at my legs and the tops of my feet. I figured those small nicks were the least of my problems as I now worried about slicing myself open attempting to heave my body through the small opening.
I placed my palms carefully around the old metal frame, feeling for any remaining shards needing to be addressed. I swept my clutch around the perimeter one more time before I felt safe enough to climb through the window.
I looked through the window into the cavity of what had once been a bathroom, then down at the glass littering the floor below. There was no way I could land on that barefoot—not unless I wanted to bleed out in that very room.
Why didn’t I bring any backup shoes?
Not willing to accept defeat, I sat on the car and strapped on my delicate shoes. Then as carefully as I could, I stood up and quickly grabbed onto the window frame for balance. Just as I saw a figure turning the corner into the alleyway, I pushed my body through the void, so I was sitting on the frame with my legs still dangling outside. I awkwardly maneuvered my legs through the narrow space, spilled over the edge of the inside wall, and lowered myself to the floor. My arms were shaking from straining my muscles and not allowing myself to fall to the ground and break an ankle.
Glass crunched under my shoes, and as proficient as I was in heels, I had to be extra careful not to slip. The booby-trapped floor would not be forgiving.
I could only see from the outside light streaming in through the broken window. It wasn’t much, but it allowed me to navigate the skeletal bathroom and the open doorway leading to the rest of the building. Not able to hold it any longer, I found the least disgusting broken-down toilet and relieved myself. It was better than going on the sidewalk, but not by much.
Afraid someone might peek in through the broken window at any moment, I ventured out of the bathroom and into the expansive open area of an abandoned warehouse. Scattered skylights produced pillars of pale light streaming to the floor, offering enough light to see, but leaving pockets of eerie shadows. The space smelled metallic and mildewy.
My heels clicked loudly against the concrete floor, making me want to walk faster and escape this nightmare of a building, though I knew more nightmares lurked outside, and I was heading straight for them.
I felt sweat trickling down my legs, but when I looked down, realized it was blood from my acrobatic climb into the building; several shallow cuts had now streaked my bare legs with warm blood. I doubted I could look like a more enticing meal for a vampire. I thought maybe I had one tissue stashed in my clutch, but certainly not enough to mop up the mess I’d become.
I pushed through one of the metal doors and slipped into the night air, which didn’t smell much fresher than it did inside the building. Other similar buildings were nearby, not providing me a clear direction in which to go next. But when I stopped and listened, I could hear the faint thrum of electronic music coming from somewhere beyond the premises. But then I heard something else…
“What do we have here?” a deep male voice said. “You must be the owner of the car parked outside the fence.”
There were two men, both large, impeccably groomed, and well dressed in black slacks and tailored shirts. They barely made any noise as they approached from the shadows of an adjacent building. I froze, my grip tightening around my bag.
“Breaking and entering is a crime,” the other man said.
“So is trespassing.”
“I—I was just trying to get to the club,” I barely squeaked out. “The bi—woman at the gate wouldn’t let me through.”
“So, you took the bull by the balls and found your own way in,” the first man said. He glanced down at my bleeding legs. “You must want in badly.” He cast a devilish grin in the moonlight. “I can help you with that. The boss is going to enjoy you. He’ll give you everything you’re begging for. Come on, sweetheart,” he said, clamping a hand on my arm and marching me toward the music.
30
Susan
2006
I managed not to scream as I was forcibly taken to the unmarked building I’d assumed housed Fangloria. The few times I wobbled on my heels from the accelerated pace, the men on either side kept me upright.
With booming music overhead, I soon found myself sitting on a couch, left alone in a luxurious basement bedroom. The men didn’t seem concerned with me getting blood on the leather couch, though I thought it was mostly dry now. Even with my legs crossed and the hem of my skirt tugged as far down as it would stretch, the lower half of me still felt terribly exposed. I wanted to stand, but my legs were shaking so uncontrollably, I didn’t think I could any longer.
One of the men had taken my clutch bag, gun and all, leaving me with nothing while I waited for the boss to arrive. The men hadn’t revealed themselves as vampires, but I suspected they were like the woman at the gate.
Well, I found what I was looking for. I wanted to believe this was better than being granted regular access to the club. As rough as the men had been in bringing me here, I thought this just might be my VIP pass into the vampire subculture. Hopefully, the risk of coming would be worth it.
The door to the room opened as I continued to pump myself up and another well-dressed man sauntered into the room with the confidence and swagger of a rock star. He was tall and lean, with short dark hair, and piercing blue eyes that locked onto me immediately. As he came closer, I noticed my clutch in his hand; he tossed it onto the wooden coffee table. It was unzipped, allowing for a corner of the pistol to spill out.
“You have some nerve trying to break into my club with a loaded weapon,” he said, now standing before me with his arms crossed, his expression dark and brooding. He looked me over, his gaze stopping for a moment on my bloody legs, but he didn’t mention them. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“It’s not what you think,” I said, interlacing my fingers to minimize my fidgeting. “I didn’t intend to break in. I tried to—”
“You accidently broke in?”
“No,” I said, laughing nervously. “I tried to go through the gate, but I was denied. I needed—”
“Then you should have gone home. It also doesn’t explain why you were attempting to sneak into my club with a gun. What did you expect would happen? Do you think it’ll protect you? Do you actually understand where you are?”
I nodded. “Fangloria,” I whispered.
“But do you understand what that means?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I was scared and wasn’t thinking. I needed to come here—”
“If you understand where you are, then you should know how useless your alleged weapon is.” He reached down, grabbed the gun from my clutch, and dropped it in my lap. “You need to fully understand what you’re dealing with.” He was already unbuttoning his dress shirt as he spoke, revealing a perfectly chiseled physique beneath. Sliding the shirt off his shoulders, he flung it onto the bed. “No use ruining a perfectly good shirt. Now… go ahead. Shoot me in the chest.”
I knew what he was asking me to do. He wanted to show me I couldn’t hurt him—but he didn’t know what was loaded in this gun, if what Roland had told me was true.
I felt the weight of the gun in my hand. He had no idea how much power he’d just given me, though he was intending to show his dominance over me—prove I was powerless to his strength and abilities. Assuming the bullets were as effective as Roland had me believe, I would be able to control this conversation. If only I could project the needed confidence and stop my body from trembling.
“I hope you know what you’re asking,” I said, stood on weak legs, and raised the weapon with both hands.
“I do. Luckily, you can’t hurt me. I need you to fully understand your place.” The exceptionally gorgeous man remained in a stoic stance before me, shirtless and awe-inspiring. He didn’t have a single blemish on his porcelain skin. He placed his hands on his hips and exposed his entire torso. But I needed to keep the upper hand. I needed to leave here with sanctuary, even if it took shoot
ing this vampire to convince him, which I knew sounded absolutely crazy.
It took me a few moments, and it was obvious he was getting impatient. I held my breath, placed a trembling finger on the trigger, and fired. The blast sent a shockwave through my arms and the recoil sent the bullet soaring past him and into the wall. I quickly took a second shot, which this time hit the muscular flesh of his shoulder. An arc of blood spurted from the wound, knocking him a few steps back, but he was able to remain on his feet.
He grimaced in pain from the impact, but then cracked his neck, flexed his muscles, and smiled devilishly. “Watch and learn,” he said, continuing to stand before me—and continuing to bleed.
I kept the gun up and aimed at his chest, praying these bullets were as damaging as Roland had promised.
I didn’t know how long it was supposed to take for him to heal, but I took it as a good sign when his confident grin began to fade.
“Would you like another one, so you can really drive home how powerless I am to your great strength and abilities?” I asked, but before giving him a chance to answer, I fired again—this one ripping through his stomach.
Now he fell back onto the floor, catching himself in a seated position.
The first wound still hadn’t healed, and now there was that much more blood flowing from the second hole, soaking his slacks, and spilling onto the floor.
“Did Matthew send you?” he asked, holding a hand up to keep me from firing again. “You’re from the Society. You surely had me fooled.”
“Who? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said. “I just wanted to get your attention, so you’d take me seriously.”
“You’re not with the Society?”
“I’m with myself—that’s all.” I stepped closer to him, my body now shaking from a spike in adrenaline rather than fear, though I was conscious of remaining beyond his immediate reach. “It seems this gun really is special.”
Angeles Covenant Page 16
