by Fawn Lowery
“Who are you? Where did you come from?”
“You may call me Mi.”
The voice was so shrill and yet so soft, that Jarharis had to strain his ears to hear her.
“Who sent you?” He cocked his head and assessed the tiny creature, reminding himself to be on guard. For all the little imp’s beauty, she could be there to do him harm. He almost laughed at the thought. What could a tiny fairy possibly do to him? He was at least a hundred times her size. And with powers of his own.
“My master sent me to tend you, Jarharis.”
Jarharis folded his arms across his chest. A smile toyed with the corners of his mouth. How could this tiny creature tend him? “And who is this master you speak of?”
Mi laughed and flitted upward toward the ceiling then veered sharply to the right and returned to hover before Jarharis’s face.
“I bring news of the whore you met in the nightclub last night. She lies dead in the alleyway.”
At first Jarharis didn’t know what she was talking about—but then he remembered the woman named Lily he had met in the night spot—the woman Aston claimed belonged to him. A shiver of dread passed within him. He drew in a long breath. He was leery of asking how the woman died.
“Aston killed her. He pierced her throat with his sharp fangs and drained her body, fortifying himself.”
Jarharis wasn’t surprised. He nodded his head. Perhaps he was to blame for Lily’s death as much as Aston, though he had not taken a drop of her blood.
“You must be on guard against Aston. He is your enemy now. You have betrayed him.”
“I owe Aston no allegiance. And as for my having betrayed him, I have not.”
Mi giggled softly and fluttered her wings, propelling her tiny body about the room.
Jarharis turned to keep his gaze on her, waiting for her to settle in one spot so he could continue their conversation.
“He has summoned his legion to his side. They will be coming for you, Jarharis.”
“His legion? Vampires?”
Mi giggled and flew very close to Jarharis. He could see her tiny face and read the alarm in her expression.
“You must take every precaution.” She held his gaze. “You must unite with the vampire club and utilize their resources.”
Jarharis threw back his head and roared with laughter. “That bunch of juvenile vampire hunters? They play at something they know nothing about.” He gritted his teeth, suddenly angry at the intrusion of the little imp. “You’re wasting my time.” He waved one hand at the fairy and turned to the door. “Be off with you.”
Agitated that he had wasted time listening to the apparition, he stormed through the doorway, slamming the door behind him. He had better things to do than cater to a fairy that suddenly felt like invading his midst. He pushed the event out of his mind and allowed his gnawing hunger to dictate his moves. He took to the air, the fastest and, so far, the safest, form of moving about the city, to search for a victim. He wanted warm blood to revive his body. Once he had fed, he would investigate the news the fairy had brought about Lily.
He spied a woman sitting on a bench in the park. He lit in a nearby tree and looked down up on her. She was alone, a hand-held music machine in one hand, earphones in her ears. She swayed slightly, perhaps moving to the rhythm of the music she listened to.
Jarharis issued a mental command to her and leapt from the tree branch. A second to shapeshift, and he strode toward her, moving on silent feet through the darkness. Approaching from behind, he reached out and clasped her neck, raising her body from the bench. He pulled her into the shadow of the tree. She whimpered only slightly as he sank his fangs into her jugular vein.
Hot blood gushed into his mouth. He sucked greedily, suddenly feeling the urge to hurry and be on his way. The woman gave no resistance, her body completely his to take from. He drank his fill, felt his strength return and cast the woman aside, levering her body over the bench. He swiped the back of his hand across his mouth, wiping away the traces of blood on his lips then turned. Halting his feet, he looked back at the woman. Her body was draped across the bench haphazardly. He grimaced. He wasn’t usually so callus with his victims, especially those that didn’t fight him. He took hold of the woman and placed her upon the bench as he had found her minutes earlier. Satisfied that he had righted the wrong, in some small fashion, he quickly shapeshifted and took to the sky.
The Wharf nightclub was abuzz with people. Couples clung to each other on the dance floor, the bar was lined with drinkers—clouds of cigarette smoke hung in the air, making visibility poor. Jarharis entered the bar and searched the crowd for Aston.
There’s nothing like meeting trouble face on. He made his way to the back of the room, listening to the chatter from those he pushed past. Someone mentioned Lily and his ears pricked up. He paused and tried to discern the conversation from the other voices vying for his attention.
“She’s dead alright. The cops found her this morning behind the club.”
“I heard all her blood was drained from her body.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! Who would do such a thing?”
Jarharis didn’t need to hear any more. It was true. The woman was dead. Murdered. And he may have been directly to blame for her death.
He checked the booth where he had seen Aston last night. The booth was empty. He turned, deciding to ask some of the patrons if they had seen him.
“I don’t know Aston.”
On three occasions he had gotten the same answer. Perhaps Aston wasn’t as well known as he had thought. But then, the bar was crowded and maybe he had just picked three people new to the area.
Bullshit! He pushed his way to the door, wondering how many of Aston’s legion was in the room. He chided himself for having the thought. He was beginning to have doubts about the fairy’s message to him. But why had she appeared to him in the first place? Who had sent her?
He thought of the amulet suddenly and its magical powers. He had been given a place to call home, a safe sanctuary where he could sleep without worry. Or could he? Suspicions flooded his body. He was of the undead. What could he possibly fear?
A fucking stake through the heart! He swallowed down the nervousness that suddenly gripped his insides. He was vulnerable during the day and there was little he could do about it. He couldn’t be woke up, nor communicated with, should he magically come across someone that he could be soul mates with.
Who am I kidding? There will never be anyone I can totally trust or call my own. I have no soul mate. He left the club, shaking off the reverie he had sunk into. He needed to be with Selena. He needed her body to give him pleasure. He felt a smile touch his lips at the mere thought of lying with her again. He turned his feet in the direction of her apartment.
He paused on the street in front of the nightclub. Gazing overhead, he took note of the low hanging clouds and the threat of rain on the slight breeze. Maybe Selena and her hunters would choose to stay inside tonight because of the weather. He smiled slightly. For all her intentions toward ridding the world of vampires, she had managed quite nicely to put herself in harm’s way.
He walked the distance of the city block and stood on the corner. To his left more nightspots appeared, their garish lights flooding into the street. Loud music blared through the stillness. Perhaps he should check inside for Aston. He headed down the street, determination fueling his quick steps.
He had not as yet fully explored the city or learned the habits of the people living near his sanctuary. For all accounts, he had been preoccupied with Selena and her little vampire club since his arrival in the time era. He pushed thoughts of the woman aside for the time being, needing to be at his utmost best when he entered the nightclub and started searching for Aston.
The music ended just as he pushed through the entry. Teeming crowds of young patrons clustered near the door, assessing him as he made his way through their mass. He strode forward into the wide room, confident in the fact that he looked somewhat simila
r to those gathered there and therefore didn’t draw any unusual attention to himself. Once he had fed his complexion flushed and took on the appearance of a normal human male. He could move around freely amid the mortals without suspicion.
He searched the sea of heads for Aston, his gaze traveling over the numerous males at the bar and coupled with attractive females at the scattering of tables and booths. The loud music started up again, disrupting his hearing of conversations near where he stood. He decided that Aston wasn’t in the club and turned to leave.
A hand appeared suddenly on his arm, grasping his coat sleeve. He paused, looking first at the hand then following the arm up to a naked shoulder. His gaze traversed to a pair of fleshy tits poking seductively against the filmy bodice of a slinky evening gown. Pert nipples peaked from the fabric tauntingly. He smiled as his gaze raised upward, following a most enticing throat and finally rising to view an exquisite female face.
“Like what you see?”
Her voice was soft and sultry. Jarharis smiled wider and covered her hand with his. She was the first female vampire he had seen in a long time. The chill of her hand pressed into his palm, warning of her undead state. He locked gazes with her.
Does she know I’m undead? Or does she know that I’ve identified her?
A female vampire often sets her sites on mortal man—thus her attachment to Jarharis seemed puzzling. She was, perhaps, a new turn, or was she trying to set a trap for him? He decided to give her a few minutes of his time and see if he could find out what she was up to. “Very much.”
“Want to buy me a drink?”
His eyebrows quirked upward. Vampires didn’t often consume liquor, not to his knowledge. Perhaps she was merely trying to get him alone with her little ploy.
“Sure.” He led the way to an empty table near the rear of the room and held a chair for her. Almost on cue, a waitress arrived and the woman ordered a mixed drink. Jarharis slid into a chair across the table and pinned his eyes on the female. Did she belong to Aston—as his other encounter in a nightclub had? He resisted the urge to ask the question.
“I haven’t seen you around. You must be new in town.” She stared at him, her red lips pursed, her lacquered nails toying with the stem of her glass.
“I haven’t seen you around either,” Jarharis countered, leaning forward and placing his hands on the table before him. “Do you come here often?”
“Only after I’ve fed.”
He leaned back in his chair and smiled across the table at her. Well, she certainly wasn’t setting a trap for him—else she wouldn’t have confessed to being a vampire so soon.
“Who are you?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
She stared at him, her lips pressed together. “My name is Tanya Sills.” She pulled in a long breath. “Until last week, I was happy being a newspaper reporter. Then I met Aston and the bastard ruined my life.”
A look of sorrow and hatred filled her dark eyes. Jarharis suddenly identified with her on a different level. He glanced over his shoulder as the music ebbed then ended, leaving the room in virtual quiet despite the mass populating the interior.
“Why are you telling me this? I can’t be of any help to you.”
She shrugged both shoulders. “I guess I just need someone to talk to. I saw you come in the bar and thought—” Her words broke off and she stared at Jarharis, imploring.
Jarharis shook his head. “I know who Aston is, but other than that I have no association with him. I’m not one of his lackeys.”
“He has many who serve him.”
Perhaps she could shed some light on where he might find Aston. But before he could ask the question, she admitted her lack of knowledge about the vampire.
“I only know that he travels with a great many. Once he boasted of lying in a crypt that was hidden from all eyes. I don’t know what he meant—except that he boasts also of having allegiance with the dark one.” She sighed. “If only I could find a way to destroy him.”
Jarharis listened to the woman and drew his own conclusions about Aston. He would be difficult, if not impossible to find on his own and perhaps it would be easier to lay a trap for him of his own making and let him fall into it in his own time.
“I sensed that you were different from the others.”
“I do not kill my victims.” How many times have I professed to that truth?
She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “I sense that there is another in your life as well. You can hardly wait to be with her.”
“You’re quite perceptive.” Or do you smell Selena’s scent on my body? He halted the surge of want rising inside him. Had he not stopped in the bar, perhaps he would be lying with Selena now, feeling her body against his, her mouth pressing his lips.
“Your love, she is not one of us.”
He stared at her, not answering for fear of disclosing Selena’s identity.
“Beware, mortals are fickle. To fall in love with one, is to have your heart broken.”
He didn’t like having his suspicions confirmed about his feelings for Selena. Was he that transparent? Or was the sultry vampire just that perceptive in her observation of him?
“I hoped you could help me.” She pulled her hands away and leaned back in her chair. “Is the end inevitable? Am I cursed for evermore?” Her brows knitted together, her chin trembled with emotion. “You can’t possibly imagine the things he makes me do.”
“You could leave Brooklyn. You could go abroad.”
“He would find me.” She raised her eyes to his face. “My only salvation is to see his end.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
The conversation with Tanya Sills stuck in Jarharis’s mind. She had sought to ask him for help, but when she learned that he was involved with another, decided that she had no chance of becoming close to him. They parted in the club and he watched her disappear in the throng of people.
He considered whether to search further for Aston or to give in to his lust and go visit Selena. Just the thought of being with her made his cock rise. He swept one hand across his jeans. His fly bulged with his growing erection.
The decision made, he shapeshifted into a bird and took to the air. The night was growing short and his lust was rapidly taking control of his emotions. He flew directly to Selena’s apartment and hovered near the bedroom window. Disappointment filtered through his insides when he saw no lights were on. Selena was out.
Distress suddenly gripped his insides.
Damn that vampire club! Refusing to believe the worse—that she was out stalking would-be vampires in the dead of night in some isolated area—he turned his thoughts to where he might find her. He winged his way to the cemetery across town where he had followed her that first night. From memory, he recalled that the graveyard was a favored hunting place for the little club.
If they only knew that vampires didn’t take up residence in local cemeteries. Should I tell Selena so?
No. His divulging such information would only entice her to question him further and the more she knew about vampires—real vampires—the more danger she would be putting herself in. He turned his direction toward the outskirts of the city, the parks and recreation areas he remembered seeing as he tried to get a feel for the city on his first night there. Watching carefully for signs of small groups milling about, he found nothing more than pairs of young lovers out for late night strolls.
He tried to connect with Selena mentally, issuing a call to her conscious state in hopes of garnering her attention. But little success came of his plan. She just simply wasn’t his soul mate—a fact that he had been hoping wasn’t true since the first moment he laid eyes on her. Alas, he felt rejection well up inside him.
He was on the verge of becoming overwhelmed with frustration, deciding that he needed to feed again in order to clear his mind, when he spied a group of five on the ground near a housing complex. He heard the loud ruckus even as he chose a place to perch and realized that on
e in the group was the male that he had tried to make his first victim when Selena kicked him in the ass. He perched in a tree and took assessment of the gathering.
A solitary figure stood in a circle formed by the other four. The figure appeared to be a male—tall, very thin with extremely long arms and legs. He appeared almost emaciated. His body leaned forward from the waist, a mop of long hair hung about his head and shoulders, obscuring his face.
The four surrounding males made charging attempts to knock him off his feet, swinging long bats and yelling orders to each other. The figure in the circle staggered and veered, almost succumbed to one blow, but regained his footing and began railing his arms at his attackers.
“Stab the fucker, Reece!”
“Knock him to the ground, for Pete’s sake, Merrick! I’m not a fucking magician! I can’t stab him if you don’t do your part!”
Jarharis realized the group had a vampire trapped and was attempting to kill him. He considered whether to become involved or merely sit and watch. So far, the group had little to show for their efforts. The creature in the circle was doing quite well in fending them off, even landing some blows of his own as he flailed his long arms at his attackers.
Jarharis sensed that the creature was weakened from lack of blood, having been accosted by the club members before he had managed to feed. Nevertheless, he was an amiable opponent. He decided not to help the club or the vampire, but to watch instead and perhaps draw his own conclusions as to the hunters abilities. So far they had done little aside from taunting the vampire and exchanging curses with their own kind.
“Kill the mother-fucker!”
The female voice cut into Jarharis’s mind like a sharp razor. He jerked his head to the side, spying Selena sprinting across the grass as fast as her legs would carry her. The silver dagger she kept hidden in her boot gleamed brightly as she waved it in her right hand.
