The Last Vampire- Complete series Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  Rans had brought me to Nigellus’ home in Atlantic City to escape the Fae. I was resting in one of the guest bedrooms when the sound of the door opening woke me. The light slanting through the window was at a lower angle than it had been, but it wasn’t evening yet. It hadn’t occurred to me to lock the bedroom door—I’d felt safe enough there.

  I blinked rapidly and rolled into a sitting position, just in time to see Rans catch himself against the doorframe with one hand. Blue eyes fell on me, but there was a dazed look behind them that I hadn’t seen before. He froze, as though he hadn’t expected me to be there.

  “What are you doing in my room?” he asked in confusion.

  “Rans?” I asked, groggy. “This is my room. Yours is across the hall.”

  He stared at me with an oddly blank expression on his face. That expression woke me up fast, and I slid off the bed to cross to him. That was when I noticed his extreme paleness. True, Rans was never going to be winning any awards for ‘Best Tan Lines.’ But this was the same sort of paleness he’d exhibited when I first found him with a shotgun blast through the chest in my back yard.

  It was the sort of paleness that belonged to a corpse, not a man.

  “You don’t look so good,” I whispered in the understatement of the week. “What happened, what’s wrong?”

  Without even thinking about it, I took him by the arm and pulled him inside, closing the door behind us for privacy. He shook his head as if trying to dislodge something rattling around in his brain.

  “I...” he said. “I don’t...”

  His voice trailed off and he lifted a hand to his forehead.

  “Okay, you’re scaring me now,” I told him.

  Herding him backwards toward the bed, I pushed at his shoulders until he sat on the edge of it, his thighs bracketing mine as I stood in front of him. He glanced up at me through dark eyelashes from the slight disadvantage of height.

  “Rans,” I begged. “Talk to me, please. Did something happen with Nigellus?”

  A deep furrow formed between his brows. “No, I...” he trailed off. “That wasn’t...” He shook his head sharply again. “Sorry. I seem to have... a bit of a hole in my memory. A new one, I mean.”

  Misgivings flooded me, but I tried to focus on the practical. He was pale and disoriented. He was a vampire. Those two facts could be related, right?

  “Do you need blood?” I asked slowly.

  His absent blue gaze turned inward, like he was taking stock.

  There was a long pause. “Maybe so,” he said. “I don’t... feel right.”

  Looking back, it was all so painfully obvious. Rans had gone off alone with Nigellus, and come back an hour later... drained of blood, and with a fresh hole in his memory.

  Fuck.

  TWENTY-TWO

  I WAS PRACTICALLY trembling with rage as I sat on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest. I couldn’t even bring myself to care that Dad was looking at me, frowning as though he understood that I wasn’t okay. I wanted to throw things just so I could watch them shatter, and the worst part was, most of my anger was self-directed.

  I’d marched down to the dining room that evening once Rans was resting quietly, all ready to get my inner bitch on and confront Nigellus about whatever had happened when the two were alone. It had taken five minutes flat for the demon bastard to talk me around until I was once more convinced that he was nothing more than a concerned friend, not a blood-stealing, memory-altering, back-stabbing pile of shit. My skull thunked rhythmically against the door of the hut as I castigated myself for being a gullible idiot.

  This was huge. If I was right—and at the moment I couldn’t see any other conceivable explanation that fit all the facts—then the person I was relying on for Dad’s safety and my freedom was a turncoat. God help me, I’d been days from binding my soul to Nigellus. And even now, he was on Earth with Rans, who had no idea that his beloved mentor was using him... and probably had been for centuries, now.

  Jesus Christ—Rans.

  I had to get to him. And I had to do it without binding myself to a demon. Any demon. My fingers tangled in my hair, tugging at the wayward spirals as I tried to get my brain to slow down. It was as though, after so long spent being a Grade A moron, all the puzzle pieces were falling into place at once.

  Remove the assumption that the demons were on Rans’ side—not to mention, my side—and suddenly the entire landscape changed. Why had the goons at the fetish club been firing silver bullets? Even the wild-eyed nutjob who’d killed my mother had known to use salt for demons. Silver was only uniquely lethal to one kind of creature—a vampire.

  What if our attackers hadn’t been in the Fae’s employ, but Myrial’s? Sure, she’d been in the line of fire, but she was in no danger. She was immortal. Knives and silver bullets meant nothing to her. And if she’d heard about the life-bond I shared with Rans, she would know that killing either of us would be the same as killing both.

  But why would she want to kill Rans, when his life was protected as part of the treaty? I scoffed at myself. The treaty clearly didn’t mean much to her, since she’d already broken it by getting my grandmother pregnant all those years ago. What if she wanted the treaty to fall apart? What if she wanted war with the Fae again?

  I tried to get everything to fit together, even though I knew there were still pieces missing. Nigellus—and presumably other demons that supported the treaty—needed Rans alive so they could harvest his blood. If Myrial wanted to trash the treaty, killing Rans was a simple way to do that if she could pin it on the Fae. Her fixation on Dad and me could mean that she thought she could use me as leverage against Rans somehow because of our bond.

  The part I wasn’t getting was why Nigellus and the other demons wanted a village full of humans who didn’t age because they were hyped up on vampire blood. For a while, Rans and I had worried that the demons intended to use the tithelings to breed more demon-hybrids like me, but that clearly wasn’t the case. If it was, with as few women as there were in the titheling village, the demons wouldn’t be letting them pair up with human men to have human babies.

  So what was really going on here?

  I shook my head sharply, dismissing the question for now. I had a whole new host of problems to worry about. That question would have to wait. My gaze moved to my father, who was still watching me with more awareness than he’d directed at me since I’d arrived here. I got to my feet and crossed to his chair, kneeling in front of him and taking his hands in mine.

  “Dad,” I said hoarsely, “I’m not sure what to do here. I need to go, but I’m scared to leave you alone in this place. I thought it was safe, but now I’m not so sure.”

  He stared at me for long enough that I assumed he wouldn’t answer. Not exactly a stretch—he never answered when I talked to him. But then his lips parted, his voice emerging as a rusty croak.

  “Go. Told you b’fore... don’ want you here.”

  My throat closed up, my hands tightening convulsively around his. I swallowed several times before I could speak.

  “I won’t leave until I’ve done everything I can to make sure you’ll be okay,” I said. “And you have to promise me that no matter what a demon offers, you will never agree to make a deal with one. Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Dad made an ambiguous noise of disgust that could have been in response to my words, or to the idea of making a soul bargain.

  I squeezed his hands again. “I need more than that, Dad. Come on now.”

  But he was gone again, his gaze moving to the middle distance. Frustration joined the messy tangle of emotions dragging at me. I stood, comforting myself with the memory of his violent reaction when Myrial had tried to wheedle him into a deal a few days ago. At least when it came to that particular demon, I was reasonably confident he wouldn’t be signing over his soul anytime soon.

  Now, though, I needed a plan. Rubbing my fingers absently over the smooth skin I’d sliced open with a knife barely half an hour ago, I went into
the back room of the hut where I could think in solitude.

  * * *

  Over the next couple of days, I quietly implemented various parts of my plan while trying not to make it look like there was any planning going on at all. Stage one consisted of attempting to get a solid answer about how demon-bonds worked. To that end, I approached the two demons who usually guarded the cave containing the gate to Earth from noon until mid-evening.

  It was almost always the same pair at that time, and they’d gotten used to seeing me since I’d been back several times to see if I could get through. First, I went in as normal and tried sticking my arm through the rock. Worryingly, it was more difficult than it had been the last time I tried—probably because I hadn’t fed in several days. I’d been too focused on everything else.

  With a frustrated noise, I turned around and retraced my steps.

  “Still no luck?” asked the chattier of the two guardians.

  I shook my head. “Nope.” Big sigh. “I’m sure I can do it—I’m so close! Maybe if I just feed more often...”

  “I’m sure you’ll get it eventually,” said the giant winged demon.

  For someone who was seven feet tall with glowing red eyes, this guard was a freakin’ marshmallow at heart. Which, of course, was the real reason I was here. I gave him a wan smile.

  “Yeah, I’ll keep at it. Thanks, guys—have a good rest of your shift.”

  With that, I gave them a little wave and started to walk away, only to stop after a few steps, snapping my fingers in the air and turning to face them again.

  “Oh! Almost forgot. Can you settle a little dispute for me? My friend Sharalynn and I were talking about soul-bonds the other night. She says you need to understand exactly what you’re agreeing to before a demon can bind you. But I always heard that as long as you agreed to do the thing with the blood and the crystal, it didn’t matter if you were clear on the details of the exchange.”

  The chatty guard chuckled. “Eh, the truth’s kind of in the middle, honestly.”

  “Oh?” I asked. “How so?”

  “Well, you see—it’s not true that you have to know every detail of the exchange, necessarily. But it also takes more than just the blood exchange through the binding crystal. You’d at least have to trust the demon on the other end of the bargain. Like, really trust them. I mean, I couldn’t just grab some human’s kid and threaten to eat it if the parent didn’t agree to the binding. It wouldn’t take, because the magical contract wouldn’t be valid, see?”

  I nodded, hiding the relief that washed through me. There were still an almost infinite number of Very Bad Things that Myrial could doubtless do to Dad if she wanted to, but, thankfully, it sounded like trapping him in a soul-bond wouldn’t be one of them.

  “I get you,” I said. “That makes sense—thanks.”

  His companion snorted. “Thinking of trying a soul-bond next, same as you’re trying to use the gate, demonkin?”

  Thanks, but no thanks, I thought. I’ve already got way more experience with soul-bonds than I ever wanted.

  Aloud, I only said, “Maybe,” and grinned, showing teeth. Both of the guards laughed loud and long.

  Next, I spoke to both Li Wei and Fatima, reassuring myself that Dad would continue to have the day-to-day care he needed even if I left. Finally, I confided in Sharalynn—not everything, but a lot of it, including the fact that Myrial seemed really fixated on my father and I was worried about what the demon might do when I left.

  She was obviously troubled by that revelation, but she agreed to watch out for him when I was gone. The worst part was, I had no idea who I should ask her to inform if Myrial started getting pushy. I finally decided on Li Wei, in hopes that the kind elder would have a good idea of what other demons might be trustworthy and inclined to protect a human against one of their own.

  Lastly, I consulted with Sharalynn about the best way to arrange one last really big feeding. She said she’d go talk to Finn about it and get back to me—Finn being the shy guy I’d helped her hook up with, shortly after I first arrived. When she came back that evening, her lips were twitching with poorly veiled amusement.

  “It’s always the quiet ones,” she said.

  I raised my eyebrows in a silent question.

  She laughed. “Here I thought my sex life would get boring once I stopped playing the field. Turns out I shouldn’t have worried.”

  My eyebrows went higher. “What—Shy Guy is a secret kinkster?” I asked incredulously. “Score! You go, girl.”

  She grinned wide, and leaned in to whisper something in my ear.

  Which is how I found myself in the torch-lit square two days later, wearing my linen breast-wrap and loincloth skirt while engaging in a hastily choreographed erotic dance with Sharalynn, who wore nothing at all. One of her friends who had a talent for music was accompanying us on a drum, pounding out a primal, sensual beat. To say that the mostly male crowd seemed to like the show was... something of an understatement.

  I’d wrestled with aspects of this, because it was a step further than the massage I’d given Sharalynn the last time we’d performed for a crowd. We were kissing this time, our hands roaming over breasts and buttocks. On the one hand, I told myself that I didn’t owe Rans anything. He’d sent me away, after all. On the other—admittedly irrational—hand, this had still felt a bit like cheating when Sharalynn suggested it.

  “I’m not attracted to women,” I’d blurted. “Just so you know.”

  I’d felt a bit better when she only shrugged and said, “Yeah, me neither. But Finn wants to see it, and I really like doing things to make him happy. So, what do you think?”

  It wasn’t cheating if neither party was getting off on it, I tried to tell myself.

  Be true to your own nature, Rans had said. Ironically enough, that was what decided me.

  And tonight, my nature was getting a feast. A lot of people had showed up, and pretty much everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves... except me. But at least I was going to be really, really well fed afterward. And tonight, that was exactly what I needed.

  When we reached the end of our prearranged routine, Sharalynn gave me a hug that wasn’t part of the choreography. “You think this’ll be enough to get you through the gate?” she whispered, low enough that only I would hear.

  I hugged her back. “Hope so. If this doesn’t do it, I’m not sure what will.”

  We separated after a final tight squeeze.

  “Come back when you can,” she said. “I’ll watch over your father in the meantime. And Zorah?”

  “Yes,” I asked, fighting the tears prickling at the backs of my eyes.

  “I don’t know who you’ve been pining for the entire time you’ve been here. But do me a favor—find him and tell him how miserable you’ve been without him.”

  It was all I could do to slam barriers around the pit of hurt that surged open at her words.

  “I’ll... talk to him,” I managed, because I did have to talk to Rans. I had to tell him about Nigellus, and the stolen blood, and the fact that Myrial might be out to kill him. Sadly, none of those things changed anything else about our relationship.

  Sharalynn gave me a sad smile and patted my cheek. Then she turned to meet Finn, who’d screwed up enough courage to approach us. He was staring at Sharalynn like she’d hung the three moons in the sky of Hell, and she was looking at him like he was the center of her world. I slipped away silently, leaving them to it and waving away the handful of hopefuls trying to get my attention.

  I went straight back to Dad’s hut, where I got him settled for the night, packed my little suitcase, and tried with limited success to get a few hours of sleep. When the first hints of dawn lightened the sky outside the window, I got dressed. After shoveling some food leftover from yesterday into my gullet, I got Dad up. Rather than taking him out to his chair on the stoop, though, I sat him down inside and took him by the shoulders. To my relief, he actually looked at me.

  “Dad, I’m going now,” I to
ld him, trying to sound positive even though I still had serious misgivings about my ability to get through the gate... and now, there was no backup plan if I couldn’t. “You’re going to be okay. Other people will still look after you. Just remember what I said about agreeing to a deal with a demon. Any demon.”

  He frowned, his eyes trailing over my features but not meeting my gaze directly.

  “Wanted to... be better. A better father.” The words sounded distant.

  My breath hitched, and I choked on a sob that tried to claw its way out at the unexpectedness of his confession. My hands tightened on his shoulders.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” I said hoarsely. “Listen to me. It’s not always going to be like this. There will be better days for us, all right?”

  The furrow between his heavy eyebrows got deeper, and he raised a hand to stroke my temple, once. Then he let it fall.

  “You remind me of her,” he said. “So much.”

  The lump in my throat grew harder and heavier, but the lucidity in his gaze faded, his eyes growing unfocused. I knew that was all I was going to get. And maybe that was just as well. Those few words had been more than I expected. They were also dangerously close to being more than I could handle, as my blurring vision proved.

  I was saved by Li Wei’s knock on the door, and I blinked the tears back ruthlessly as I went to let him in. He took one look at my packed bag, and his eyebrow rose.

  “You are leaving us now?” he asked. “I wondered, after our conversation of a few days ago.”

  I nodded. “If I can make it through the gate, yes,” I said. “Thank you, Li Wei—for everything. Please look after him. I don’t know when I’ll be able to come back.”

  Li Wei gave a shallow bow from the neck. “You know I will, Zorah. Safe travels, then. I hope you will find what you seek.”

  Me too, I thought. But I only said, “Goodbye.”

  I forced myself not to look back as I left the little hut. Behind me, a single, faded photograph lay on the table, rescued from the ruins of my house in St. Louis. It showed three smiling faces—Mom and Dad, with me at age four, held protectively between them. It was the only part of me that I could leave behind for my father.