I crossed my arms. “Don’t you already?”
Dominic cocked his head. “Don’t I already what?”
“Don’t all of the vampires already kill indiscriminately? The only difference is that people will know vampires are doing the killing instead of assuming human violence. Maybe if everyone knows that vampires exist, we’ll actually have a chance at surviving against you.”
“Like the chance you had against me in the alley or the chance you had against Kaden a few hours ago?” Dominic laughed. “Vampires feed on humans, but unless we are newly born, careless, or angry, we rarely kill them. Secrecy is essential to our survival, and those of us who want secrecy are typically more careful with our prey. The humans I feed from return home bruised and weak and confused but otherwise unharmed. Those who no longer care for secrecy, however, no longer hunt to feed. They hunt for the joy of the kill, and feeding is simply a bonus.”
I mulled over what he said, not sure if I believed him. “You don’t need to drain a human to feed?”
“Do you need to eat an entire cow to feel full?” Dominic countered, obviously amused.
“No,” I admitted grudgingly, “but I also don’t eat mine while it’s still mooing.”
“Dietary preferences,” Dominic replied, grinning now. “I must retire for the day, but speaking of diet, you will find dry cereals, protein bars, fruit cups, and Twinkies stacked in shelves under the bed along with bottled water. I recommend staying away from the perishables as I haven’t stocked the shelves in some time. Otherwise, please help yourself. You need to replenish your blood-cell count.”
“Right,” I muttered. “Fatten me up again.”
Dominic reached out sharply and placed his hand over mine. I’d unthinkingly left my fingers wrapped around the bars after pounding on the cage door, so they were vulnerable to his attack. His strength was breathtaking. Just his hand covering the knuckles of each finger held them crushingly immobile against the bars. I envisioned one horror after the next—Dominic grinding my fingers into dust against the bars, snapping each knuckle backward, ripping each finger from its socket and sucking down my blood from an upturned appendage, like a row of shots. My heart clenched with fear and self-chastisement. I ground my teeth and braced myself.
“Any other vampire would’ve pulled your arm through the bars to get at your wrist. I can hear your heart accelerating and feel the beat of its healthy pulse against my tongue. It tempts me, but I’ve learned control. I want to speak with you tomorrow more than I want to rip through the veins at your wrist, but most vampires in this coven would choose the wrist when faced with a similar choice.” He grazed one long finger across the tiny veins at my wrist to emphasize his point.
I swallowed. “Lucky for me, then, that you’re not any other vampire.”
“True, but that isn’t to say that I won’t indulge.” He grinned, and his face began to transform into the creature I was beginning to suspect was his true form. “You have such lovely wrists.”
His fingers extended into bony talons. He peeled my fingers from the cage, stabbed the razor-sharp nail of his thumb into my flesh, and sliced across my wrist with a swift, efficient twitch of his finger.
I inhaled sharply at the sudden pain. The cut was deep—disgustingly, alarmingly deep—and overflowed with blood instantly. Dominic knelt and tipped my hand, so the blood poured over my palm and fingertips to his mouth. His tongue lapped the blood from each finger, swiped over and under, from tips to knuckles, savoring each drop. The hissing rattle started to vibrate inside his chest. A moment later, just as his grip tightened and his lapping became more insistent, Dominic tore his mouth away from my hand.
He closed his eyes as he swallowed, seeming to relish the taste. The hand holding my wrist trembled. It pained him to stop feeding. I could see the iron will of his control in the flex of his clamped jaw muscles and the strained set to his shoulders, but he didn’t give in to the temptation. His face transformed back into its original, human-like form. His hold on my wrist steadied, and when he opened his eyes a moment later, his expression was once again bland, amused, and confident.
Dominic brought my hand to his lips, but instead of lapping up the flow of blood, he licked into the wound. I felt nauseated, but I couldn’t look away. Heat expanded through my wrist and hand and up my arm as his tongue probed into my flesh. Just as the heat began to burn, the cut healed. It clotted and scabbed, and Dominic licked more thoroughly over my skin to eliminate the scar. When he finished, my wrist was as smooth and unharmed as before he drank, although my hand was coated in a sticky glove of half-dried blood.
“I recommend you gain a measure of control over your temper, as well. Many times, control is all that separates us from the monsters.”
I nodded quickly, beyond words.
He released my hand and stepped back.
I stepped back immediately, as well, mirroring his movement to bring all my extremities within the cage. Although healed, my wrist ached. I cradled it with my other hand, but both my hands were trembling.
“Rest. I will return at dusk,” he murmured, and all that remained of his presence was the scent of soft Christmas pine and the tack of blood and saliva coating my palm.
Chapter 4
As inexplicable as it seemed after the gore I’d just witnessed and experienced, I was hungry. Shelves of foodstuffs and water really were under the bed as promised. Some of the cereals were expired and some of the brands should never be eaten anyway, but one cereal in particular didn’t have sugar or marshmallows or frosting. It seemed strange to eat and drink here, like I was a guest instead of a prisoner, but as the immediate danger lay abed for the day, my adrenaline faded, and my stomach growled.
I knelt to retrieve the cereal and water from under the bed, but when I stood, the world twisted out from under me. Suddenly, I was lying flat on my back, dizzy and disoriented. The stone floor felt cool on the backs of my arms, and as the world somersaulted and twirled, I decided to stay put. I ate my cereal while lying on my back next to a perfectly cozy-looking bed. The mattress and bedspread were preferable over a stone floor, but even after I finished eating, I was still dizzy. I closed my eyes against a nauseating loop-de-loop and felt myself slip away.
A warm hand cupped my cheek, and two fingers pressed firmly against the left side of my neck. “No, no, no. Wake up, darlin’.”
I knew that voice. I didn’t know it well, but something about its timbre reminded me of humid, lazy days spent drinking lemonade. I’d never lived in a house where a person could sit out on a porch, look over an acre of yard, and enjoy the breeze, but that voice had.
The man sighed heavily. The hand at my neck disappeared for a moment and just as quickly returned, assaulting my cheek with little sharp slaps.
“Come on, Cassidy. Can you open your eyes for me, darlin’?”
Every part of my mind and body felt weak, but the man’s endearment struck like untuned chords on my nerves. “I’m no one’s darling,” I whispered.
The man laughed, a deep soft rumble. “Yes, ma’am.”
I knew that ma’am. “Ian Walker?”
“That’s Walker to you,” he said, his voice still deep with amusement. “Can you show me those gorgeous eyes of yours? Bat your baby blues for me. Darlin’.”
I forced my eyelids open despite their weight and sluggishness. Walker’s face hovered above me. His expression was pinched and serious despite the lightheartedness of his voice. His head twirled in circles above me, in opposite circles than the cage was twirling, and suddenly I was somersaulting between the two. I groaned and closed my eyes.
“Shh, shh, shh,” Walker hushed soothingly. “It’s all right, DiRocco. Take it slow and easy. Did he drink from you?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Did he drink from the artery?”
I nodded stiffly.
“Which one?” Walker asked, but his voice seemed farther away. I heard the long rip of Velcro.
“Every artery,” I muttered. “Whe
re didn’t they drink?”
“They?” I felt Walker’s hands on me. His touch was light and efficient, checking over my body.
“More than half a dozen of them a block from my apartment. Dominic saved me and brought me here.”
He grunted. “I knew you’d been attacked, but I didn’t realize there had been so many. Did you drink from any of them?”
“No,” I whispered. “Dominic tried, but I spit it out.”
“How did your bites heal?” Walker asked. His voice sounded cautious. He lifted my left eyelid and a burst of light flashed over my vision. I cringed away, but he flashed a light into the right eye, too. “Sorry.”
I heard another tear of Velcro and a light pat. Dancing colors swirled behind my closed lids. I swallowed against the rising nausea, and my throat ached. “He licked my wounds closed.” I swallowed again, and it ached even worse, like my throat was clamping on razors. “It sounds insane, but he licked each wound, and they healed.”
Walker sighed again, deeper than before. His hands cupped my face, and his palms were warm and steady and calm. “I know. This whole crazy situation is insane, but it’s all real. One day you’ll wish you were just insane.”
“Already there,” I whispered.
Walker chuckled lightly. “Here,” he said, and a straw was suddenly at my lips. “Drink this.”
“What is it?” I asked wearily. I peeked between my lashes and tried to focus past the dizziness.
“Juice box,” Walker said kindly.
My eyes finally focused, and I could see a cartoon apple on the side of the square container of juice he was holding for me. I hesitated and met Walker’s eyes.
“It’s all right,” Walker assured me. “The box was sealed. Besides, poison wouldn’t be their style, trust me.” He looked a little amused by my caution, but a little saddened, too. His jaw muscle flexed and twitched as he clenched his teeth.
I pursed my lips around the straw and drank. Apple juice is a fine juice, but this particular juice, as it passed over my tongue and flowed down my throat, might have been the best, most divine, nourishing, God-given liquid I’d ever tasted. I sucked down the entire box, swallow after swallow, in one long pull. The straw eventually crackled and gurgled empty, and I still wanted more. I closed my eyes again and groaned.
“Thirsty?” Walker asked. He let his hand holding the juice box drop to his side. His jaw had unclenched.
I nodded. “I know it was just apple juice, but it tasted like heaven.”
Walker chuckled. “Your body needs sugar and rest to replenish the blood you lost.”
“How did you know?” I asked. I opened my eyes, and the world stayed in one place this time. Walker was kneeling next to me. The cowboy boots and jeans were gone, and in their stead he wore black from head to toe. If I wasn’t mistaken, he was wearing Kevlar. His brown eyes were kind and gentle, and I felt comforted meeting his gaze. The dimple in his smile disappeared at my question, but despite those big brown eyes trying to convince me that everything was all right, I needed to know. “How did you know that I was here and that I’d been attacked? How did you know that I would need blood?” I swallowed and forced myself to ask, “How do you know about vampires?”
Walker sighed. “I’ll tell you after I get us out of here.”
“Tell me now.”
“It’s a long story, and we’ve wasted enough time.”
I touched his hand still holding the juice box. “You can tell me the long version later. Please. How do you know about any of this?”
Walker looked at my hand touching his. His eyes widened, and I realized I was touching him with the hand that Dominic had fed from. My fingers and palm were crusted with a macabre glove of dried blood. I pulled away from him, embarrassed and disgusted with myself, but Walker took my hand and sandwiched it between both of his. “I’m what the vampires call a night blood.”
“A night blood,” I repeated, dumbfounded. Part of me had still wanted to believe that Dominic had spewed nothing but lies and bullshit, but hearing those words straight from Walker’s lips was unsettling. I had the potential to turn into a vampire.
Walker nodded, his tone and expression dead serious. “If a vampire attempts the change on a typical human, he simply dies from exsanguination. If he lives through the feeding, however, and actually drinks vampire blood, his remaining blood clots, like having a transfusion with the wrong blood type.”
“But you’re not most humans,” I said dryly.
“No, we’re not. Our bodies can sustain life for an extended period of time with very little blood, and our blood readily accepts the integration of vampire blood, transforming to match its DNA,” Walker said pointedly.
I raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying something?”
“No, ma’am. Just statin’ a fact.”
“You don’t know anything about me,” I whispered.
“I spoke with Detective Greta Wahl today, and she likes to brag. I know more than you think I know.”
I rolled my eyes. “One good deed never goes unpunished.”
Walker grinned. “But I know somethin’ about you even she doesn’t know.”
I shook my head. “I’m not a night blood.”
“The vampires wouldn’t have kept you here otherwise,” Walker said patiently.
“I don’t believe in vampires, either,” I snapped. I looked past Walker at the silver cage surrounding us and the cave-like room beyond that. The room was still dark as night despite the sun having assumedly risen, but I could discern something splattered and glistening on the stone floor. I squinted at the object until its shape took form in my mind, and I groaned. A chunk of bloody flesh still stained the floor: Rafe’s throat. “Fuck,” I whispered.
“I know. They’re animals. Worse than animals, they’re parasites, but they’re also stronger, faster, more mercenary, organized, and cunning than any animal alive. In the end, however, it’s our decision: death or this eternal life,” Walker said, gesturing to the cage and cave surrounding us. “I made my decision years ago.”
I looked back at Walker—into his kind, warm eyes—and realized that beneath the velvet was forged steel.
He squeezed my hands. “But no one is making you decide today. Not me, and least of all the fucking vampires.”
I squeezed back. “Get me the hell out of here.”
“That’s precisely what I intend to do, darlin’.”
“And stop calling me darling,” I snapped, but I smiled when I said it.
“I guess you don’t want this then,” Walker said on a sigh. He reached behind him and handed me a leather shoulder satchel.
I reached out, gaping. “My bag!”
“You betcha.”
I dug inside. My phone cover had cracked, but otherwise, everything was accounted for, even my recorder and writing pad. I played the recorder, and Greta’s voice was sweet heaven’s harps to my ears. “You’re my hero, Walker. You can call me darlin’ all night if it makes you happy.”
Walker laughed. “Well, it’s no fun if you actually like it, DiRocco.”
Leaving the coven wasn’t the great escape I’d envisioned. Since Walker had already broken into the cage—which was apparently easy for someone who could actually touch silver without his skin boiling off and knew how to pick locks—and the vampires were tucked away for the day, we simply walked out. It seemed highly improbable that Dominic would leave the entire coven vulnerable while it slept, but we didn’t encounter one vampire, guard, or creature to prevent us from leaving.
Walker didn’t seem surprised by our easy escape. “The vampires are overconfident. They think they’re gods, and we’re nothing but cattle. Plus, I doubt they even know I’m in town yet,” he explained as we turned left down another vampire-made tunnel.
“Would knowing you’re in town make a difference?” I asked. “Do they know you?”
Walker ignored my questions and heightened an already grueling pace.
I never would’ve successfully escaped on my o
wn. Even having tracked me to the coven, Walker spent two hours scavenging the sewage system, and according to his calculations, we still had another hour until we reached human-made drainage pipes. For Dominic to leave the entire coven unprotected based on my inability to escape, however, was ridiculous. How could he keep the coven secret and safe without daytime protection? Maybe I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth, as Walker suggested, but our unhindered escape bothered me.
My hip had progressed from grinding to a gnawing, scraping sensation around the second hour of our hike, and I was forced to either accept Walker’s assistance or collapse. He offered to carry my bag and eventually me since I started limping, but the little help I had accepted was mortifying enough. I needed to accomplish some tasks on my own, and walking out of the sewers on my own volition after having been attacked and kidnapped by vampires was one of them.
Eventually, we emerged from a manhole in the sewer system and into the warm, glowing Friday morning sun, stinking and exhausted but alive. As I soaked in the clear, crisp breath of freedom and the radiant heat of daylight on my skin, I tried to let the pain and fear and stubborn pride melt away. Vampires couldn’t exist in this moment. I was human and alive and home and not sure which to cherish most.
As I blinked back to reality, I realized that Walker was staring at me. His hand was still around my waist as he waited silently and patiently. A knowing twist shaped his lips. I swiped at the tears with the back of my hand, feeling simultaneously embarrassed by my reaction and unbelievably grateful for his assistance.
“Walker, I—”
He squeezed my hand. “I know.”
“Thank you.”
“What kind of animal tracker would I be if I’d allowed Detective Wahl’s only credible witness to disappear?” He winked. “You’re very welcome.”
Much to his consternation, Walker escorted me home like I’d requested instead of to the hospital like he’d insisted. He offered to stay with me in my apartment while I rested, but I adamantly refused. I’d lived on my own for nearly six years since I left Adam. This was my apartment, and I could take care of myself, damn it. Still, letting Walker leave had been unsettlingly difficult. I didn’t mind his help—in fact, I very much appreciated everything he’d done—but I didn’t want to need his help. Gratefully accepting help from others without depending on that assistance was a tightrope walk I’d never learned to negotiate well.
The City Beneath Page 8
