by E. S. Moore
It had been nearly twenty years since I last cried. I didn’t feel like starting again now.
“When they had me, I was certain I was going to die,” Ethan went on. “They didn’t care I was just a kid. They were going to use me like everyone else. Heck, I think they had bigger plans for me. I saw the way they looked at me.”
I glanced up, pulled by Ethan’s voice. There were tears there, just behind his eyes. His head was down and he was looking at his hands. The hair on the left side of his head was mussed as if he had been running fingers through it for hours.
“You saved me,” he said. “You didn’t have to. Not after what you had just experienced. You could have let me lie there in that cell and rot. I would have understood.” His next words were spoken so low even I could barely hear them. “But you didn’t.”
I felt a pang of guilt. I might have saved Ethan from dying at the hands of House Valentino, but there were others I had failed to save. Purebloods had died. Lots of them. I hadn’t been able to control my hunger. I killed at least two myself before I was able to control my newly acquired appetites.
And there was my family, of course.
“Thomas’s sacrifice weighs on my mind daily. I didn’t even know him, but I love him for what he did for me. And you ... you suffered the most, sacrificed the most.”
I winced. I wasn’t sure if “sacrificed” was the right word. It had been all my fault. Sometimes I found myself jealous of Thomas, of what he had become. He didn’t have to live with the aftermath of our failed run. He had no mind left to think with.
No, I was the one who bore the weight of it all. It rested squarely on my shoulders, and I would carry it until I died. My friends, my family, they were all gone. I would avenge them, would make up for my mistake.
“Don’t blame yourself, Kat,” Ethan said as if he had heard my thoughts. “It wasn’t your fault. House Valentino did this to you, did that to him. Without you, I would be dead. Others would have died. Many others.”
“I know,” I said, breaking my self-imposed silence.
“You can’t save everyone. I know you would if you could, but you can’t.” Ethan rose. He started to reach for me, to rest his hand on my shoulder or to brush the hair out of my face. I’m not sure which. Before he could do either, he pulled his hand back. He looked as though he had something else to say, but swallowed his words before they could be uttered. He turned away without another word and hurried out of the room.
14
I don’t remember the day passing. At some point, I got up and went into the bathroom to run a hot bath. The scent of lavender filled the room as I slipped into water that was just this side of scalding. It covered me like a soothing blanket, eased my mind to the point I might have drifted off if I was able.
Instead of sleep, I found myself floating on the edge of oblivion. I didn’t want to think, didn’t want to feel. I closed my eyes and forgot about everything.
Eventually, I made my way to my bed. I fell into it as if it might swallow me whole. I slipped under the blankets and laid there, my entire body weak from the sunlight just outside my window. I couldn’t see it, but I could still feel it there. I had half a mind to open the blinds just to have one last glimpse of the sun before it killed me.
I don’t know how long I lay there in the comforts of my own bed. All I know for sure is that when I opened my eyes again, the sun was down and I felt cleansed of the emotions that had threatened to overwhelm me. The pain was still there, deep within my gut, but it was overpowered by another pain, one I had become used to. One I loathed.
I rose from the bed and went to my window. I slid the heavy drapes aside, lifted the blinds, and opened the window. It was a crystal-clear night. While there was a brisk chill to the air, it felt good on my face, my bare skin. I breathed in the fresh air, sucked it in as if it might be my last clean breath.
I was shaking, but it wasn’t from the cold. The pain ate at me, caused my hands to tremble on the windowsill. It burned like fire throughout my body.
I was hungry.
A shape fluttered by the open window. It was nothing more than a dark imperfection against the night sky, indistinct. The leaves of the trees rustled with the breeze, playing a quiet lullaby for those who slept. It was a welcome song to those of us who walked the night. Somewhere in the distance, a dog howled and barked twice before falling silent. A loon called out only to have its call go unanswered.
I closed the window and locked it. I wanted to be out there, hunting with the rest of the beasts. It was a primal urge that welled up deep from within my gut. It had a stranglehold on my mind, a thirst that wouldn’t ease until I gave in to it. I wouldn’t be able to think clearly.
I needed to hunt. The need was a part of me now. I couldn’t turn it away.
My mind was made up before I knew for sure what I was going to do. I threw on my work attire. The leather felt good against my flesh, hugged me tight like a lover.
The urge to feed was so strong it nearly crippled me. I struggled to buckle on my belt, slip on my shoulder holster. My hands were shaking so badly I was afraid to even check the gun to make sure it was loaded. By the time I donned my coat and opened my bedroom door to head downstairs, I was damn near ravenous.
Ethan had already risen for the night. I could smell his lingering scent in the hall. He had gotten up early and had breakfast. I knew it long before I reached the dining room. There were breadcrumbs on the table and an empty glass sat at its edge. I could smell the orange juice, as well as Ethan’s saliva on the glass.
I gritted my teeth and made my way to the door. I didn’t want to stick around and have Ethan stumble in on me while I was in such a sorry state. I was pretty sure I could keep from attacking him, but I didn’t want to chance it. I had never lost complete control around him before, at least not since the day we met in House Valentino’s cages.
That wasn’t to say he hadn’t seen me fight off the hunger many times before. I didn’t like to feed. I would put it off forever if I could. So when the hunger did finally fall upon me, it left me in a pretty bad way.
I left through the side door, locking it behind me. I figured Ethan would let me in when I got back. Once he realized I was gone, I was sure he would wait for me. He probably had seen the warning signs coming already and had gotten up early so he wouldn’t risk facing my hunger-induced wrath.
The garage was dark and chilly. I quickly topped off the tank with spare gas we kept in cans in the garage. I wanted to get more than a quick meal in tonight. I wanted to scout House Tremaine after my hunger was sated. I didn’t want to have to stop once I got started, and running out of gas on the way home was unacceptable.
The Honda started up right away and I pulled out of the garage without a backward glance. I had enough of my mind left to press the button on the garage door opener before I was too far down the road.
I had no idea where I was going at first. I didn’t want to lurk around the Minor House until later, even if I wasn’t in full-on vamp mode. The earliest part of the night tended to be the most active when it came to security on a lot of the Houses. I was sure they had guards posted throughout the day and night, and the trees I hoped to use for cover would definitely be watched.
But eventually security would fall lax and I could make my move. I just had to bide my time.
The road hummed under my wheels as I sped along. Houses whipped by, barely seen as I blurred past. I was going far too fast for the quality of the road, and I knew if I were to hit the city proper at those speeds, I would have to slow down or risk getting pulled over by one of the rare night cops who patrolled the city streets.
It wasn’t as if I was afraid of them. The cops were all Purebloods, and silver was just as illegal for them to use as it was for me. The worst they could do was try to arrest me and lock me up. That didn’t scare me. I knew I could get away if I had to.
What I was afraid of was hurting one of them. If someone were to get in my face tonight, I wasn’t so sure what I
would do. I was in no mood to deal with anyone, let alone someone who thought they could push me around just because I was a girl.
The wind whipped back my hair and sent my coat flapping behind me. It pulled at me, tried to rip me from my seat like it was some sort of leather parachute. Bugs flittered by, buzzing about my face, splattering on the windshield. A raccoon stared at me from the side of the road, its eyes reflecting yellow in my passing headlights.
I slowed down as soon as I realized where I was headed. There had been no conscious thought to my direction. It just sort of happened. It was the perfect place to give in to my darker side.
I pulled on to the main drag and merged with traffic. Cars rolled up and down the road at a leisurely pace, many of the drivers looking for their next mark. Women walked the streets in high heels, spandex, latex, and fishnet, all interwoven together, concealing so little they might as well have gone naked. Men in wide-brimmed hats and loud suits that clashed with colorful undershirts stood at the entrances of many doorways, watching the women pass, calling out to them in leering tones.
Just another day on High Street, the seediest part of the city.
I had no idea what the place had been like before the Uprising. I somehow doubted all the scum of Columbus just happened to show up after the vampires rose to power. The place reeked of degradation. It was just off the campus, might even have been a part of it at one time, but now it was a long line of pavement, neon signs, and hotels that catered only to the perverted.
It was never safe on High Street, not even for the monsters. More women and men ended up dead here than anywhere else. I think most of the women offering themselves up for the vamps and wolves actually liked it that way. You didn’t come here unless you had a death wish.
The pimps were mostly Purebloods, though a few rogue werewolves and vamps were mingled in with the rest. It was impossible to pick them out just by sight. They kept a pretty low profile, not wanting to attract the attention of any of the vampire Houses, lest they be dealt with in quite an abrupt manner. Rogues didn’t last long. They were either assimilated or killed.
I kept my head down as I drove toward the parking garage. Part of me wanted to have nothing to do with the place, knowing I was just as likely to get attacked as I was to be an attacker. The sensible part, however, insisted I needed to be here. Where else would I find someone I could feed on whose memory wouldn’t weigh on my conscience later? This was the worst of the worst.
The garage was a mammoth of a building. It was far bigger than was necessary, though it had been built before the vampires had taken over, so it might have been full more often than not in the past. Most people who hung out on High Street lived within walking distance. Anyone who was visiting for the first time often took a cab or rode with friends. It was too easy to have your car come up missing, or worse, occupied by someone waiting for your inevitable return.
There was no on-street parking anywhere, nor were there parking lots that hadn’t been converted into something else, so I had no choice but to park in the garage. I drove halfway up, choosing a level that was mostly uninhabited. I had seen only a handful of men in a tight group a level below me, but by the time I had parked and was walking toward the exit, they were gone.
My footfalls echoed loudly in the mostly empty garage. A car started up somewhere above me and then sped down the ramp, tires screeching as if they were running from something. They probably were.
I kept my eyes on the shadows, my hand near my weapons. I really didn’t want to have to draw at all, considering every weapon on me was illegal and would bring half the city down on me if they found out I had them out in the open. Thankfully, I reached the bottom floor and was heading out without running into anyone.
A ticket booth stood at the entrance to the garage. The barriers that used to block off the entrance had been torn down and the booth trashed long ago. A mannequin sat in an old chair, surrounded by broken glass, condoms—used and unused alike—and a smattering of other pieces of discarded trash that was best not lingered upon. The mannequin, though faceless, seemed to watch me as I stepped out onto the bright lights of High Street.
I squinted into the sudden light. A neon sign blazed across the street so brightly I damn near needed sunglasses. A pair of streetwalkers sauntered by, paying me disgusted glances as if the healthy dose of leather concealing most of my body was an affront to them. Maybe it was. This was the place to go to shop for skin, after all.
I ignored them and fell in behind a group of teenagers out gallivanting in the streets. They stuck close together, laughing and pointing at anyone who struck their fancy. It was these kinds of Pureblood kids who didn’t last long here. They would be corpses or worse by the end of the night if they kept it up.
I let them have their fun, however. Now was not the time to get involved. I had things to do.
I kept my eyes peeled for any likely marks. A man staggered out of a building ahead of me, bumped into a trash can, and fell over in a heap with his head mere inches from the road. A girl who looked to be no more than thirteen lifted up her shirt to some passersby, earning a few whistles and catcalls. A pair of lovers groped their way toward a hotel, barely making it through the door before the first article of clothing fell to the ground.
But none of them was a likely target. They might not be the most desirable of folk, but they weren’t doing anything that deserved retribution. Eventually that girl might end up dead, mauled by some wolf who got a little too frisky, or the lovers murdered in their beds, but as it was, they weren’t the kind of people I went after.
It wasn’t until the group of teens I was following passed an old concert hall that had been turned into a nightwalker’s rave joint that I spotted a potential mark.
He was following a young woman who was wearing a tight halter top and a skirt so short I could see the bottom of her ass swaying with her strides. The straps of her bright pink thong rode high on her scrawny hips, a beacon for the eye. She had on knee-high boots with heels so tall she was walking on her tiptoes. I had no idea how that could ever be comfortable.
I crossed the street, leaving the gawking teenagers to their fate, and fell in behind the man. His long trench coat was brown and faded. A baseball cap was pulled down to conceal his eyes, and he kept fingering something in his pocket. The entire time I followed him, he didn’t take his eyes off the girl in front of him. I could smell his desire.
The girl turned off down a side alley and kept walking, oblivious to the stalker behind her. The man paused long enough to look both ways before taking off after her. He didn’t bother looking behind him. Amateurs.
I didn’t make the same mistake. I leaned against the wall and pretended to check my nails as I looked to make sure I hadn’t gained a tail of my own. Once I was certain it was clear, I slipped into the alley as quickly and soundlessly as I could.
The air was dank and smelled heavily of urine and reefer. Puddles with condoms and well-smoked blunts floating in them lined the entire alleyway, and I had to step carefully to keep from stepping in someone else’s bodily fluids.
The man and girl disappeared around the corner of the building ahead. A moment later, there was a quick intake of breath and the start of a scream that was quickly choked off. I kept my pace quick and light, not wanting to alert the man that I was coming.
I drew a knife from my belt and turned the corner all of fifteen seconds later, keeping the weapon concealed in the folds of my jacket.
The girl was pressed against the wall. Her stalker had a knife pressed against her throat, a dirty, rusty thing that probably wouldn’t cut much more than butter. The girl’s hands were free, her eyes were wide, and she was whimpering, yet she made no move to escape. With his free hand, her attacker reached up her too-short skirt and pulled her pink thong down around her knees.
I was on him before he knew I was there. My knife pricked his throat and he froze as it slid around to his jugular. A thin trickle of blood ran down his neck where I nicked him.
/> “Too cheap to pay?” I whispered in his ear.
“This is none of your business,” the man said. He was still slightly bent over, hand still wrapped around the girl’s panties. His knife had slipped down and was now resting tip-first in the hollow of the scared girl’s throat. He sounded nervous, but not nearly as scared as he should have been.
I grabbed him by the arm and yanked the hand holding the knife away. The short blade fell to the ground with a clatter. I twisted his arm behind his back and he straightened, finally letting go of her thong.
“Go,” I said, motioning with my head for the girl to leave. “Go home. Learn from this.”
She pulled up her underwear, grabbed a bright pink purse from the ground, and ran down the alley without a word. She looked back once, eyes wide, before finally vanishing out of sight.
I spun the man around and slammed him up against the wall. His eyes were bloodshot and seeping but didn’t have that terrified look I would have expected. The blood on his neck stood out starkly against his pale skin. I might have thought him a vampire, if not for his lack of reaction to the silver blade that had nicked him. He was definitely a Pureblood.
“Preying on women isn’t exactly the wisest thing to do nowadays,” I said, pressing the knife a little tighter against his throat. He made a strangled sound and his eyes widened a bit. I think he finally understood what kind of trouble he was in.
He tried to push me away, using the wall for leverage. He was much bulkier than I was, probably by a good seventy pounds or more, and he topped me by a good foot, yet he could hardly budge me. His eyes widened even further as realization set in.
“You ... you’re one of them,” he said. He winced as the knife scraped his throat. “I have connections. I can get you whatever you want.”
The hunger raged inside me, demanded to be quenched. This man was scum. He would have raped that girl and probably killed her afterward. I didn’t care what kind of information or whatever he was offering might be. His connections meant nothing to me.
