“Do I?” I answer, doing my best to make my tone light. I study my fingernails in a show of indifference. Blood is caked under the nails, the blood of the elf I recently killed. My hands will be drenched in red again before the night is over.
Javelin has moved to stand by the only window, and a quick glance behind me shows Cecil is blocking the door. Instinctive moves, undoubtedly. They don’t want their meal to escape. I look at Stan again. “I think the ones who have a lot of nerves are the dirtbags who took advantage of my need for star-blood.”
I hear a grunt of surprise from Javelin, but I don’t look at him. I keep my gaze trained on the gang leader.
He shrugs. “Don’t look at me. You were already a drug-addicted pup when you came here, begging for scraps. You did it to yourself.”
“That’s not true!” I roar, taking a step forward. Several of the guns are pointed at me, now. I hardly notice them. Red flickers on the edges of my vision. Stars, I’m so angry, I can’t even see straight.
“Watch it, boy,” Stan snarls. “I’m debating whether I’m going to let you and your friends walk out of here alive. What do you want, and what’s this nonsense about you starting a gang?” His lip curls in a smirk. Even with Javelin’s show of strength, or my seemingly reckless anger, he doesn’t know what I’ve become.
I look at the seated individuals again. I don’t recognize all of them, but if they’re here, it’s because they’re gang members.
I hesitate, a thought coming to me.
“I want to know where you buy the star-blood from, directly.”
Stan barks a harsh laugh. “Of course, you do. You’re a pathetic dream vagrant.”
I’m on him. I grab his shoulders and slam him into the wall with a strangled growl, ignoring his yell of pain. Gunshots sound and pain blazes through my shoulder and side.
“Stop, you’ll shoot the boss!” someone yells, but then he screams, the sound quickly cut off.
“They’re vampires!” Another voice, high-pitched in panic.
Chairs flip, and men scramble for the door.
More gunshots. More screams.
The scent of blood washes over me, and I grit my teeth, keeping my eyes locked on the man in my grasp. Stan’s face is twisted in a pained grimace, and fear glitters in his dark gaze. “I’d heard the stories,” he panted, his voice strained, “but I didn’t think they were real. Vampires.”
“They’re real,” I say softly. I put my face closer to his. “How would you like to die tonight, Stan?” My breath deepens even as my heart beats faster, faster. I could sink my fangs into his throat right now. I’m so close.
He blinks, uncertainty mixing with fear. He’s wondering why I haven’t killed him yet.
I’m wondering why, too. My body is taut like a bowstring. My will power is being held by a thread. There is so—much—blood behind me, and I can feel Stan’s pulse racing, his blood coursing through him.
I inhale sharply. “You have no idea how close I am to killing you,” I murmur. “But, I need to know who’s responsible for supplying you with star-blood.”
“Cliff,” Stan says immediately. “Cliff was our main supplier.” Hope suddenly surges in his eyes. “He was here earlier today. Dropped a shipment off, as a matter of fact. I can show you the supplies. I’ll give some to you, if you’d like.”
I laugh and release him, stepping back. Stan slumps to the ground before pushing himself to his feet. I can see he has a gun in his holster. He wisely hasn’t tried to use it.
I turn around. The scene looks like something out of a horror movie. Broken, bloodied bodies lie everywhere, unmoving. Blood coats the concrete floor. Javelin and Cecil are crouched over two bodies, feeding, grips white-knuckled, their gulps frantic.
I close my eyes and inhale through my mouth. Stars, I can taste it in the air. I don’t dare drink now. I won’t be able to stop.
“Follow me.” I step quickly from the room, leaving my two companions behind. I doubt they’re even aware of me right now.
Stan is all too willing to follow me, and I can hear his footsteps as he trails me from the room.
I allow Stan to take the lead, and after going down a few hallways and a flight of stairs, we come to a locked door.
Stan has the key, and after a moment, we’re inside the room.
Crates of star-blood shoved in plastic bags line the walls in this room. If I tilt my head, I can see glittering flecks of the powder; orange, gold, and red, hanging in the air. I can smell it. It no longer has any appeal to me, and I feel sickened by the scent. It holds far too many memories I’d rather forget.
“Cliff gave us the stuff you see right here.” Stan places his hand on a stack by the door. “Cost a pretty penny, but still fairer than some of the other suppliers.”
“Who else do you get it from?”
“Mar, from the Shade Jackals, and Jonah. He’s a shopkeeper down on the waterfront. He has the worst price of them all, and on top of that, he’s always pushing for gang news and the goings-on of Liberty.” Stan rolls his eyes. “Like he needs to know.”
I can smell Cliff. His scent is thicker in here, mingling with the star-blood. “How long ago did Cliff leave?”
“Maybe an hour ago? He was loitering here all day, though.” Stan gives me a calculating look. “If you’d come here before the sun set, you would have caught him for sure.”
He wants to know if vampires come out in the day. I keep my face impassive. I haven’t decided if
