The human police were flummoxed. The news media had gone national. The politicians were all excited and getting up on their stumps.
She’d even tried to do some Nancy Drewing herself, but her timing had always been of the day/late, dollar/short variety.
Then again, she already knew the answer to a lot of those human questions: That Old Language symbol for death on those packets was the key. And gee whiz… the more guys who ate their own bullets, the more those stamps had appeared. They were even starting to show up on heroin and Ecstasy packaging now, not just cocaine.
The vampire in question, whoever he or she was, was gradually staking their claim. And after a busy summer season of influencing human filth to take themselves out of the gene pool, they’d managed to kill off an entire demographic in the drug trade: All that were left were street-corner retailers… and Benloise, the big-fish supplier.
As she took form behind a parked van, it was clear that she’d gotten to the scene right after it had all gone down: There were two guys making like mud puddles on the asphalt, lying faceup with unseeing eyes. Both had guns in their hands and holes in the fronts of their brains, and the car that the RIPs had come in was still going at an idle, its doors open, steam rising from its tailpipe.
None of that was what she cared about, however. What she was really interested in was the male vampire getting into a sleek Jaguar, his black hair flashing blue in the overhead light of an archway.
Guess her day/dollar ratio was on an upswing.
With a quick shift, she re-formed in front of his car, and thanks to the fact that he had no headlights on, she caught a good look at his face in the glow from the dashboard.
Well, well, well, she thought, as his head shot up to her.
The slow laugh that came out of the male belonged with the summer nights: deep, warm—and dangerous as coming lightning. “The fair Xhexania.”
“Assail. Welcome to the New World.”
“I had heard you were here.”
“Likewise.” She nodded at the bodies. “I understand that you’ve been performing a public service.”
The vampire assumed an evil expression, one she had to respect. “You give me credit where it may not be due.”
“Uh-huh. Right.”
“You can’t tell me you care about these rats without tails?”
“I care that your product has been in my club.”
“Club?” Elegant brows peaked over those cold eyes. “You work with humans?”
“Keep them in line is more like it.”
“And you don’t approve of chemicals.”
“The more they’re under the influence, the more annoying they are.”
There was a long pause. “You look good, Xhex. But you always did.”
She thought of John and the way he’d handled that vampire wannabe a couple of months ago. It would be a different scenario with Assail—John would have much more fun with a worthier opponent, and Assail was capable of anything.…
With a shot of pain, she abruptly wondered whether her mate would even bother fighting for her now.
Things were different between them, and not in a good way. All those summertime resolutions to stay close and connected had faded under the grind of their nightly jobs, those short bursts of seeing each other seeming to create more distance than they cured.
Until now, in the cold weather of fall, their visits were harder, less frequent. Less sexual, too.
“What’s the matter, Xhex,” Assail said softly. “I can smell pain.”
“You overestimate your nose—and your reach, if you think you can take over Caldwell so fast. You’re trying to fill some big-ass shoes.”
“Your boss, Rehvenge’s, you mean.”
“Precisely.”
“Does that mean you’ll come work for me when I finish cleaning house?”
“Not on your life.”
“How about on yours?” He tempered that one with a smile. “I’ve always liked you, Xhex. If you ever want a real job, come find me—I don’t have a problem with half-breeds.”
Annnnd didn’t that little ditty make her want to kick him in the teeth. “Sorry, I like where I’m at.”
“Not according to your scent, you don’t.” As he turned the car engine on, the subtle growl foretold all kinds of horses under the hood. “I’ll see you around.”
With a casual wave, he shut himself in, revved the engine, and tore off without putting on his lights.
As she stared at the dead he’d left behind, she thought, well, at least she had a name now, but that was the extent of the good news. Assail was the kind of male you didn’t turn your back on for an instant. A chameleon without a conscience, he could be a thousand different faces to a thousand different people—with no one ever knowing the real him.
For example, she didn’t believe he found her attractive for one moment. It was just a comment to put her off balance. And it had worked; just not for the reason he’d intended.
God, John…
This shit between them was killing them both, but they were stalled out. Unable to make things work; unable to let things go.
It was a mess.
Flashing back to her bike, she mounted, put her sunglasses on to protect her eyes, and took off. As she headed out of downtown, she blew past a fleet of CPD squad cars with their lights flashing and sirens blaring, going as fast as their tires would take them toward where she had just been.
Have fun, boys, she thought.
Wonder if they had a protocol for multiple suicides by now.
She herself headed north toward the mountains. It would have been more efficient to just dematerialize, but she needed to air her head out, and there was nothing like doing eighty on a rural road to get your skull clean as a whistle. With the cold air shoving her aviators back onto her nose, and her biker’s jacket forming a second skin across her breasts, she gunned the engine even harder, stretching out flat over the bike, becoming one with the machine.
As she closed in on the Brotherhood’s mansion, she wasn’t sure why she’d agreed to this. Maybe it was just surprise at the request. Maybe she wanted to run into John. Maybe she was… looking for something, anything, that was a change from this fog of sadness she was living in.
Then again, maybe the fact that she was meeting with her mother meant shit was only going to get worse.
About fifteen minutes later, she turned off the road and ran smack into the
There was barely a delay at each of the security cameras; she was expected.
After she passed through the last barricade, and started on the wide turn that led to the courtyard, her heart relocated to her gut. Dayum, the huge stone house still looked the same. But come on, like it would have changed at all? There could be a nuclear bomb shower along the northeast coast and the place would still be solid.
This fortress, cockroaches, and Twinkies. All that would be left.
She parked the Ducati just beyond the stone steps that went up to the front door, but she didn’t dismount. Looking at the arching jambs, the massive carved panels, the glowering gargoyles that had cameras in their mouths—there was no welcome mat in sight.
Enter at your own risk was the point.
A quick check of her watch told her what she already knew: John would already be out for the night, fighting in the part of town she had just left—
Xhex cranked her head to the left.
Her mother’s grid was out back, in the gardens behind the house.
