The City Beneath

by Melody Johnson

  I narrowed my eyes. I’d seen him look human, but admittedly, I’d never seen him look attractive. Like someone who had achieved massive weight loss and was now unrecognizable as his former self, Dominic no longer resembled a vampire. Where his body had been emaciated and skeletal-like, his limbs now had muscles. Where his face had been gaunt, his cheeks were now full, his jawline stubbornly sculpted and boldly masculine, and I, God help me, was attracted.

  I reminded myself that he had fangs and pulled myself together. “Are you trying to tell me that you attacked someone in the”—I shifted my eyes to glance at the clock on my monitor—“seven minutes between sunset and now?”

  “No, I’m telling you that I fed in the seven minutes between sunset and now.”

  “The manner in which you feed is attacking,” I hissed. “I know firsthand.”

  “Ask her yourself. She does not feel attacked,” Dominic said calmly.

  My body suddenly washed cold. “Who? Greta?”

  He shook his head, but his eyes flicked to the door.

  “The receptionist?” I asked, shocked. I’d just spoken to her! “Deborah?” I tensed to run to her, but before I could leverage to my feet, Dominic was behind me and bound me against the back of my chair with one arm. I struggled, but my efforts were, as usual, useless against him.

  “You may ask her later,” he breathed against my neck. “I have need of you now.”

  “Please,” I said softly, desperately. “She probably can’t sustain the blood loss I can and still survive. Let me go to her. Let me get help for her.”

  Dominic’s steely arm tightened uncomfortably. “How do you know how much blood loss you can sustain?”

  “She could be dying,” I countered, trying a different tack. “She’s just another scene you’ll have to clean and camouflage.”

  “She is in no danger of dying, I assure you. In fact, she enjoyed herself.”

  “You don’t know how she feels,” I snapped.

  “Yes, I do. I can taste it.”

  I paused, slightly mortified. “In her blood?”

  “Yes, in her blood. In the air. Her scent. In her mind. I can feel her in every way if I choose to.” He tucked his face into the back of my neck and breathed deeply. I squirmed. “Who have you been talking to, Cassidy DiRocco?”

  “I’ll answer your questions when you let me see for myself that Deborah is well and whole,” I said, attempting to stay calm and focused even as my hair fluttered rhythmically from his breaths.

  I shivered, and he made a noise, although not the same rattling I’d grown accustomed to hearing. The noise was more male than vampire.

  “You will not run, scream, attempt escape, or otherwise renege on your word. You will confirm the woman’s health, and you will return to this chair. Agreed?” Dominic asked.

  I sighed. “Agreed.”

  A moment later, faster than my synapses could fire, Dominic released me and was seated in the chair across from my desk. He crossed one leg casually over the other and looped his clasped hands over one knee, at ease and waiting for my move. I stood slowly and walked to the door. Dominic looked good in his suit because he looked human, but he wasn’t. He was a murdering, life-sucking animal. My hand shook as I placed it on the door’s handle because I obviously needed the reminder.

  The images of Monday’s crime scene and the bodies from the morgue sprang through my head like a grotesque slide show. But now, as I prepared myself for the possibilities outside the office door, the bodies all had Deborah’s face. In my mind’s eye, her short, springy gray hair, pointed chin, and terminally accusatory expression frowned back at me from a ravaged body. Ragged slices split her legs and arms, tore through muscle, and revealed a popped socket of glistening bone. The cloying scent of rot was pungent, so even when I closed my eyes, I couldn’t escape from the guilt and grief and overwhelming responsibility of her death. The stink of my negligence filled the room, and when I opened my eyes, she looked back at me with her wide, unblinking, unseeing gaze.

  I swung the door open, fully panicked, my heart bursting, my lungs gasping, and Deborah looked up from her monitor, smiling.

  “Do you need anything, Ms. DiRocco?” she asked, almost dreamily.

  I gaped.

  “Is something wrong?” She leaned forward, mouthed the word security , and lifted her eyebrows in question. I saw her arm shift, so it hovered near the panic button tucked under the lip of her desk.

  “Not at all,” I ground out with false cheer. “Did Detective Greta Wahl stop in? She was supposed to meet me tonight, too.”

  Deborah folded her arms on top of her desk. Her body shifted away from the panic button, and I felt a sense of doom close in around me. Deborah was safe and healthy, but I certainly wasn’t. I would face Dominic alone.

  “Yes, she was here a few minutes ago. Around eight o’clock.”

  I glanced down the empty hall. “Is she waiting for me outside?”

  “I told her that you were gone for the day, as you instructed, and she left.”

  “As I instructed,” I repeated blandly, knowing damn well I had not instructed. I had a sneaking suspicion who had, and his eyes were burning two welts in the back of my head, like a sniper’s laser.

  “Yes, as you instructed.” An annoyed edge crept into Deborah’s voice. She pursed her lips. “Honestly, hon, you don’t look well. You should probably reschedule all these meetings, and call it a night.”

  “Actually, I was wondering how you’re feeling.”

  She lifted her eyebrows, her fingers dancing eighty words a minute. “Me? Honestly?”

  “Of course.”

  She stopped typing and frowned at me. “I’ve been at this damn office since seven this morning. My ex-husband’s an ass, I haven’t had a cigarette in over fifteen minutes, and I have a knot in my back the size of a grapefruit. Not to mention it’s past eight o’clock, and I’m still here.” Deborah’s face was deadpan. “So it’s pretty much a normal night.”

  “Right,” I said.

  Deborah returned to her keyboard.

  I forced myself to step back into the office area and shut the door. I stared at the closed door, equally relieved, confused, and terrified. Deborah wasn’t dead. She was whole and alive and if nothing else, physically unaffected by Dominic.

  His eyes were still hot on the back of my head. I turned to meet his gaze, my hand still gripping the door’s handle as if I could bolt without him catching me. He grinned knowingly and patted the seat of my chair.

  I crossed the room, feeling a kinship to those on death row who’d walked their final steps. I forced myself forward toward Dominic in a silent, clenched, unwilling sort of determination.

  Once I was seated, Dominic spoke. “Are you satisfied?”

  “Not nearly,” I muttered. “But in terms of Deborah’s physical health, yes.”

  Dominic cocked his head. “Her health is good in every way.”

  “She doesn’t remember the attack, and she thinks I gave her instructions that I never gave her,” I said, pointedly. “She’s not mentally well.”

  “We can quibble over the particulars later,” Dominic said, dismissing my concerns. “Do you agree that you’ve confirmed the woman’s health?”

  “Yes,” I gritted.

  “Wonderful.” Dominic smiled. “Who have you been talking to?”

  I licked my lips. “I talk to innumerable people throughout the day. I’m a reporter. It’s my job to talk.”

  Dominic lost his smile. “Who have you been talking to in particular about being a night blood? There are only two beings to whom you could divulge such information about yourself—vampire or fellow night blood—one of which you didn’t have access to during the day and the other of which you are unlikely to have found.”

  I shrugged. If Walker, Nathan, and myself were any indication, perhaps night bloods weren’t as rare as everyone believed.

  “The man who helped you escape is a night blood,” Dominic accused. His voice was barely audible,
but somehow more cutting for its reduced volume.

  I raised my eyebrows, struggling for a casual response. “I escaped on my own.”

  Dominic tutted and shook his head. “You think I didn’t know the moment the man entered my coven? You think I didn’t hear him pick the lock on my enclosure, or your hushed voices as you whispered to one another? You think I didn’t prevent my vampires from descending on you as you fled through the tunnels?”

  I swallowed, not wanting to admit that I’d suspected as much. The reporter in me itched. “So you can remain awake during the day?”

  “We do not succumb to a death-like coma during the day, as much of your lore indicates, if that’s what you’re implying.” Dominic narrowed his eyes to slits, and I realized that he hadn’t appreciated my question.

  “I just—”

  Dominic held up a hand. “You refer to my coven as having slaughtered humans during their hunt. I’m not sure what word could sufficiently describe the ensuing violence should you encounter a vampire during the day. Even me. I allowed both of you to escape, and by doing so, I allowed you to live. I deserve your gratitude, not your speculation.”

  Leaving had been so extraordinarily easy that I’d suspected something was amiss. But I’d wanted our escape to be real. I’d wanted to believe we’d exerted a measure of control over our fate, that we weren’t simply puppets in a show for the vampires’ amusement.

  I shook my head. We weren’t even the puppets. We were the snack that the vampires munched on while enjoying the show.

  Dominic leaned forward. “No?” he asked, his voice a mask of civility.

  “Everything is just speculation when nothing makes sense. Why would you just allow me to leave after kidnapping me?” I snapped, anger overpowering common sense. “Did you laugh as we snuck off, tiptoeing down corridors and dodging around corners in what we thought was our silent and successful escape? Did you think we were just hilarious, the silly, weak, simple humans who thought they had outsmarted you, who thought they had beaten the odds?”

  “I didn’t kidnap you. If you remember correctly, I was protecting you,” Dominic said. His lips pulled in a sudden curve. “Your skin smells like cinnamon.”

  “Excuse me?” I asked, attempting to regroup. The way he was staring at my throat was disconcerting.

  He leaned over my desk, his eyes half-closed in pleasure as he inhaled. “Your skin. It smells delicious when you’re angry.”

  I jerked away from him. “So you’ve said.”

  “No, I thought it was just your fear. Your anger and pleasure have tinges of that sharp poignancy, as well. If I were to breathe you in too deeply and too quickly, it might burn.”

  “Okay,” I murmured, still attempting to achieve some distance, but the more I cringed back in my chair, the closer he leaned across my desk. “Your point?”

  Dominic smiled widely enough to flash his long fangs. “My point is that your scent is likely the reason Neil lost his control so easily. Your skin short-circuits our self-preservation instincts, temping us to breathe you in, to bite, and to suck that burning spice deep within ourselves, despite the silver bars that may stand in our way. Night blood always has that quality, but your blood is so seasoned that its scent wafts through your pores. It’s why, having tasted you, they’ll continue to hunt you. They’ll be relentless until they get what they want.”

  “You mean Kaden and his rebel vampires?”

  Dominic nodded.

  “Their only intent last night was to kill me,” I whispered. “What else could they want? To turn me? To transform me into what you are?”

  Dominic shook his head. “Only a Master can successfully transform a night blood into a vampire. Had Kaden been rational and loyal, he would’ve brought you directly to me upon tasting you. But the vampires in my coven who no longer want to live in secrecy no longer value anything but that ultimate goal. They want complete freedom to drink and hunt and kill at their leisure more than they want to increase our dwindling population. They would’ve feasted upon you until you were drained dry, night blood or not, but because you’re a night blood, they would’ve enjoyed the taste a little more.”

  I swallowed. “What does any of this have to do with me? Besides the fact that Kaden and his rebels are hunting me for the taste of my blood, why do you care if they drain me or not? Why do you want me to be your night blood?”

  “I need your help, Cassidy DiRocco. I must subdue Kaden and his followers before they massacre the city and expose the existence of vampires to the world. If Kaden blows our cover, Day Reapers will come to New York, and our ways of life for vampires and humans alike will never be the same again. Are you willing to assist me? Will you help me protect our city?”

  Dominic asked me to help him kill vampires, protect his coven, and save New York City in the same tone that a less ambitious man might ask a woman to coffee.

  “You want my help to what?”

  “Help me subdue Kaden and his followers, Cassidy, and kill them if necessary. They’re a threat to your society, the survival of my entire coven, and a threat to you personally, as well. If I’m not mistaken, you value your human life.” Dominic leaned back slightly, giving me a little more physical space, but the calculation in his gaze pinned me motionless against the chair. “You’re the weapon they won’t expect.”

  “You want my help to kill vampires,” I repeated. My brain felt like a skipping record. I could hear the words leaving his mouth, but my brain refused to progress to the next track. “I’m not . . . I can’t . . .”

  Dominic’s gaze grew more intense as he stared. Puzzle pieces were snapping into place in his mind, and if the slow smile breaking across his face was any indication, he liked their fit very much.

  I took a deep breath and started again. “I’m hopelessly ill-matched against any one of you, let alone all of you. How could you accomplish anything with me that you couldn’t accomplish on your own? You took care of Kaden just fine without my help in the alley last night.”

  “Yes, I did take care of him last night, and that’s exactly my point, Cassidy DiRocco,” Dominic purred. “I wasn’t alone in the alley last night. I was with you.”

  My name coming from his voice pulled something taut inside my mind, like someone wrapping rope around his palm in preparation for tug-of-war. I looked away, trying to dispel the feeling, but it persisted.

  “I didn’t help you last night,” I insisted, but it was difficult to impress a point without meeting someone’s eyes.

  “On the contrary. Kaden is usually much stronger, but he was slow and distracted after drinking from you. They all were. You’re the key to overcoming this rebellion and stopping their escalating violence before the entire city crumbles under their bloodlust.”

  “You don’t care about this city,” I scoffed. “You just don’t want to be overthrown on the Leveling, and you’ll use every trick in your arsenal, even little old me, to make that happen. If Kaden’s powerful enough to regenerate an aorta within minutes of having it torn out, how powerful will he be at the end of the month when you lose your powers entirely? You’ll be toast.”

  “You certainly have been talking around,” he growled.

  I shrugged. “Like I said, I’m a reporter. That’s what I do.”

  Dominic was silent for a long moment. He smoothed his thumb over the grains of my desk as he mulled his next words. “You’re right about my motivations. I fear a revolution in my coven. Despite my motivations, however, stopping Kaden before he furthers his hunt benefits you, as well. You’ll be protecting his future victims from being slaughtered, you’ll be guaranteeing your own future safety, and you’ll be preventing the Day Reapers from visiting New York. Our motivations may be different, but we have the same ultimate goal. We must combine our strengths if either of us hopes to see Kaden stopped.”

  I shook my head slowly, unconvinced.

  “You said yourself that you’re hopelessly ill-matched against any of us, let alone all of us. Let me even the score. Ins
tead of being alone and vulnerable when you next encounter Kaden, you’ll be at a planned location, prepared for his attack, and you’ll have me protecting you.” Dominic leaned back in his chair, sure of himself and his argument. “Give me one reason we shouldn’t combine our efforts against him.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  Dominic nodded. “You shouldn’t, but that isn’t the point. I don’t trust you, either, but you need me, as I need you.”

  “You don’t trust me?” I gaped. “Your entire plan revolves around using me as bait,” I said, jabbing a thumb at my chest. “Whether I die fighting them alone or die fighting them with you, I still end up dead.”

  “You’re merely a distraction. Once I overtake them, I’ll heal any injuries you may have sustained. Your chances of survival are higher with me.”

  “I’m bait,” I said flatly. “Even if I agreed to this, which I haven’t, you’re expecting a very large leap of faith on my part, and I’m not normally one to jump. After you’ve taken exactly what you want—Kaden is subdued, the threat to your coven is defeated, and you’re once again secure as Master of your vampires—why would you bother to heal a useless little human like me?”

  “You are not human,” Dominic hissed succinctly. He was suddenly out of his chair and directly in front of mine, wedged between the desk and my legs. He leaned down and pressed his cheek smoothly against my cheek. “You’re a night blood. I will have use of you long after Kaden and his followers are killed, I promise.”

  “That sounds more like a threat than reassurance,” I whispered. My voice shook.

  Dominic boxed me in with an elbow against each armrest. His hands grasped the back of my chair on either side of my shoulders. He pulled the chair close—the smell of warmed pine wafted down from his hovering body—and buried his face in my neck. I froze. His lips grazed over the skin behind my ear, and the hard point of his teeth scraped casually along my hairline. The core of my chest began to shake the harder I tried to remain still. I took in his scent in a slow, shallow breath, trying to let thoughts of Christmas and family and love temper the panic trembling over me.