Luckily, it had no effect on Nosh’s spirit bear. The beast swallowed the vampire’s hand and gun, biting the entire arm off at the shoulder. Then it gored into his stomach, eating him alive.
Nosh waited a few moments before halting his singing. He said a single word, and the bear slowly evaporated, leaving behind the partially-eaten vampire.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Stevie staring with his mouth hanging open.
I cleared my throat. “Want to be friends, Stevie?”
He nodded.
Instantly.
“Excellent.”
Nosh walked over, a dark grin on his cheeks. “I would greatly appreciate it if you could wait until tomorrow to mention this to the Crescent. We have an appointment this evening that I’m afraid we cannot miss.”
I kept my face blank, realizing what he was getting at. Werewolves might attend the auction.
Stevie nodded woodenly. “Sure. I think I’ll go grab a coffee or something while I try to think of a story.” He glanced at the two dead werewolves and I saw his eyes darken. He slowly turned to look at me and then Nosh. “Thank you. It doesn’t do them any good, but you convinced me.”
Nosh dipped his chin. “Vampires suck,” he said, smirking at me. Stevie chuckled, shaking his head. “Now we just have to convince the Crescent,” he sighed.
I nodded, turning to Stevie. “I expect you to keep knowledge of my hideout to yourself. I would hate to hear that you betrayed my trust. A friend would never do such a thing. We are friends, aren’t we, Stevie?”
“Having a rogue bear running around can be dangerous,” Nosh added conversationally. “The neighboring vampires might even decide to relocate, not wanting to live in a neighborhood with a bear lurking about. You’d have to expand your territory to protect everyone from the bear. Think you could do that?” Nosh asked, grinning widely.
Stevie chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I’m actually beginning to like you two. And I never met a vampire I didn’t hate, so that’s saying something.”
I nodded. “To new friendships,” I said, extending my hand—which was still covered in Ralph’s gore.
Nosh clucked his tongue. “Poor taste, Sorin. Poor taste.”
Stevie grunted, gripping my hand in his much larger palm. “Ralph was an asshole who caused more problems than anything else. You tried your best to establish a peaceful conversation. The way I see it, he sealed his own fate.”
I smiled. “I’m glad you feel that way.”
“What’s your number, Stevie?” Nosh asked, pulling out his phone. “I’ll call you tomorrow so we can set up a meeting with the Crescent—as long as our vampire hunting schedule permits it.”
I glanced up at the cloudy sky, listening absently as Stevie told Nosh his contact information.
With all the commotion and gunfire, I was surprised no one had come by to check on us.
“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” Stevie said after giving Nosh the information. He waved at us one last time before jogging towards the alley’s exit—the same one the vampires had entered from. It began to rain and I sighed irritably.
Nosh walked over, looking pleased. “You’re covered in blood. Rain is good. Might clean you up enough to let us catch a cab. Come on,” he said, motioning for me to follow him towards the opposite end of the alley from the one Stevie had taken.
“That worked out well,” I said.
Nosh grunted. “That just proves how little you know.”
12
I walked through the rainy streets of New York City, struggling to process the onslaught to my senses. The smells of roasting meat, fresh bread, trash, flowers, and humanity danced through the air like unseen tendrils vying for my attention. More languages than I’d ever heard buzzed in my ears, and the unbelievable number of people walking up and down the street—all ignoring each other or speaking into their phones—produced a staccato of heartbeats that threatened to make my eyes bulge.
I don’t know what I would have done without Nosh’s sunglasses because the city seemed to be made of light—coming from lampposts, shop fronts, massive screens as large as some of the smaller buildings, and red and green lights hanging from some type of small metal rope, over the streets.
It was so much to take in that I could almost ignore the light rain plastering my hood to my head, soaking me to the bone. I glanced down to avoid stepping into the oily puddles of water with my bare feet, even though I was too wet for it to really matter at this point.
Thousands of people walked past me, all averting their eyes from one another—a city of strangers packed together like rats on a sinking ship. Many had frowned at my ensemble, but most didn’t even seem to notice. It took every fiber of my being to keep my hands shoved into my pockets and my fangs to myself. Free food surrounded me, and the way everyone ignored each other…
This city was begging for vampires to invade. I doubted anyone would even notice if a tenth of them suddenly went missing, because none of them cared about each other, let alone knew each other.
Nosh had kept up a steady stream of conversation, explaining the magic of his era. He told me about electricity powering the city, illuminating the streets and providing guidance for the hundreds of metal coaches—cars—zipping back and forth down the streets, faster than any horse I’d ever ridden, all powered by a liquid called gasoline.
The cars honked and swerved around each other with abandon, barely dodging pedestrians who were too busy trying to take light-paintings of themselves with their phones.
And the roads and sidewalks were all made of smooth stone rather than cobblestones or packed dirt. We’d walked by a shop selling televisions, and Nosh had pointed at the moving images, explaining how phones could also be used to record video, not just pictures. He’d even recorded me walking down the street to accompany his fumbling explanation.
I could do little more than stare and soak it all in, especially when we came to an area with screens attached to the very buildings, all playing videos of some kind or another. Nosh had spent five minutes trying to reassure me that the explosions and the flying man with a red cape on one screen wasn’t real but rather an upcoming movie. Like a book brought to life.
To me, it was magic, and no one else seemed to care, taking it all for granted.
“Watch where you’re walking!” a man shouted. I flinched in surprise to realize that he was talking to me—the first person to have done so on our long walk. He and several others dressed in identical black uniforms stood beside a black and white car with flashing red and blue lights attached to the top. They wore golden badges on their chests and each had a compact metal gun affixed to their belt—where a sword would have hung in my day.
The men were staring at my bare feet with suspicious frowns before realizing that I also wore no shirt beneath my coat. I was grateful the rain had washed away all of the blood, because it was obvious that these men were constabulary of some sort.
“Sorry, officers,” Nosh chimed in hurriedly. “My friend has had too much to drink and I’m trying to get him back home. Which way is the Aristocrat?” he asked, smiling brightly. “Poor guy doesn’t have things like this in Kansas, and he has no head for his liquor.”
The lead officer frowned dubiously. “They don’t have shoes or shirts in Kansas either? Fucking moron is going to get sick.”
“Easy, Tommy,” one of the other officers teased, “or I’ll start blabbing about how you lost your clothes in Atlantic City.”
Tommy grunted, his face flushing red, and I had to keep my mouth closed for fear that seeing the rush of blood would make my fangs snap down, because I was feeling incredibly hungry again.
“I lost more than that after I bought Jenny a drink!” another hooted. “Best night of my life!” His fellow officers roared with laughter as he puffed out his chest, grinning.
The other officers began pestering him to tell the story, already turning away from us. Tommy looked relieved as the attention shifted away from him. He pointed back over h
is shoulder with a grunt. “Two blocks that way. Keep an eye on your pal. Lot of pickpockets in town robbing tourists blind. And get him some goddamned shoes!”
“Of course. Thanks, officer.” Nosh quickly ushered me away as if fearing I might ask a question or make a scene. But I had no intention of drawing any attention to myself. “Come on, Sorin,” Nosh said under his breath. “We’re almost there and we need to hurry if we want to make it to the auction on time. I’ll show you more of the city later.”
“Lead the way,” I said, honestly relieved. Because I was beginning to feel rather overwhelmed by everything. I kept my eyes downcast, focusing on my feet so as not to get distracted by the city around me.
A few minutes later, Nosh guided us towards a large building with a grand staircase and several men in black suits waiting by a huge glass door. Aristocrat was etched into the glass, outlined in gold paint.
Apparently, many people lived in the building. His parents lived in one of the penthouse suites at the top. I glanced up and cringed, realizing I couldn’t actually see the top of the building. I feigned casual nonchalance, doing my best not to consider how many steps it would take for us to climb that high. An older man in a suit rushed towards us with an umbrella clutched in his fist, and I instantly squared my shoulders, fearing an assault due to the panicked look on his face.
“Mr. Griffin! You’re soaked to the bone, sir!” He handed Nosh the umbrella, looking scandalized at how close I stood to his charge. Nosh motioned for me to stay close and I watched the servant’s face contort in confusion, realizing that I wasn’t a threat but an acquaintance. He suddenly looked alarmed, torn between staring at my bare feet and finding me an umbrella.
Nosh waved a hand, smiling familiarly. “Too little, too late, Redford. I’m just stopping by to introduce my parents to an old friend. They are expecting me.”
Redford frowned. “My apologies, Mr. Griffin. They left an hour ago. I believe they were attending a dinner party with some friends.”
Nosh hid his concern well, showing only a faint, thoughtful frown, but I picked up on the slight spike in his pulse. “Some friends, you say,” he mused thoughtfully for Redford’s benefit. “Ah, yes! They invited me, but I completely lost track of time after running into my good friend, Sorin,” he said, gesturing in my direction. “We’ve had an eventful evening, as you can see,” he murmured in a low tone, winking conspiratorially.
Redford dipped his chin politely, offering no comment, but I could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. “As you say, sir.”
“I’ll run upstairs and get him a change of clothes so we can meet them. What was the name of the restaurant again?” Nosh asked, sounding distracted.
This was obviously a common occurrence, or Redford was well-versed in not pressing for details. “They did not say, Mr. Griffin. You could check with the front desk.”
Nosh waved a hand. “I’ll just call them while my friend gets changed. Could you have a car pulled around?”
“Of course, Mr. Griffin. How soon?”
Nosh glanced at me with a thoughtful look. Then he glanced down at his phone, reading the time—which had been another shock for me to process, that his phone was also a clock. “Twenty minutes should suffice.”
Redford nodded. “I’ll have everything ready and waiting for you in fifteen minutes. Please take your time. You know how your mother gets if you don’t dress appropriately,” he suggested in a politely respectful tone.
Nosh sighed, shaking his hand. I saw the exchange of money, but Redford accepted it and pocketed the cash so smoothly that I knew he had been doing this job for decades. “Her definition of appropriate is a tuxedo for every occasion,” Nosh murmured with a rakish grin. “We’ll be down shortly. Come along, Sorin.”
I nodded woodenly, flashed Redford a warm smile, and did my best to look inconspicuous as I followed Nosh—Mr. Griffin—into a palatial lobby.
I kept my eyes downcast so as not to gawk at the chandeliers. Gold and crystal adorned everything, and the room was decorated with white leather furniture. My wet feet slapped loudly against the white marble floors, echoing through the vast space. A row of attendants waited behind a chest-high counter, but Nosh went straight for a row of gleaming metal double-doors against the back wall. Another man in a suit stood guard outside the doors and pressed a button on the wall, opening them for Nosh.
“Thank you, Justin,” Nosh said absently, stepping inside and motioning for me to join him.
“Good evening, Mr. Griffin. You just missed your parents and their friends,” Justin said. “Your mother didn’t look pleased. Is that why you’re in such a rush?” he said, smiling politely.
Nosh grimaced. “Yes. I imagine she’s not very happy with me. Do you recall what their friends looked like?” he asked seeming nonchalant, but I could tell he was concerned.
Justin shrugged. “I’ve never seen them before, sir. White men with dark hair, and a young, beautiful woman in a red dress. She looked disappointed. Perhaps you were expected sooner? She was beautiful enough that I imagine she was intended for the city’s most eligible bachelor,” he said, smirking faintly.
Nosh grunted. “I wish my mother would just stop parading them all in front of me. Love is not a buffet line,” he muttered as if by rote, seemingly a conversation he’d had a dozen times before.
“Of course, sir,” Justin agreed, stepping a few paces away from the door as he smiled at me.
I ignored all the perfectly concealed looks of astonishment at my attire and stepped into what appeared to be a metal room. The walls were mirrors, and the double-doors closed behind us, trapping us inside. I let out a shaky breath. “What is troubling you, Mr. Griffin?” I asked anxiously. “I thought we were meeting your parents?”
Nosh frowned uneasily, pressing a card up against the wall near the door. It beeped and flashed green, and then Nosh folded his arms, waiting. “They never mentioned going to a restaurant, and it’s highly uncommon for them to not tell Redford where they are going—especially knowing that I was coming over tonight. And I don’t recognize the people they were with. Their business dealings are typically with other Native Americans or the Chinese.”
I studied him thoughtfully, wondering if they had been taken. The metal room suddenly shifted, feeling like the floor had dropped out from under me. I gasped, clutching at the walls, realizing the entire room was racing upwards at an alarming pace. “This is a lift?” I asked, still gripping the railing nervously.
Nosh turned to look at me, wincing guiltily. “Yes. Sorry. I forgot to explain that in my distraction. Lifts—or elevators, as we call them—were designed so we didn’t have to walk up so many stairs. New York was built up rather than out. It was apparently necessary to see how many rich people they could fit on one island,” he said dryly.
I nodded, watching as glowing numbers above the door rapidly counted upwards. “Your parents are…royalty?” I asked, not certain what word to use, and fearing to look at what number the elevator would stop on.
Nosh grunted. “There is no royalty in America. Well, no official royalty. But they are exceedingly wealthy and have lived here a long time. They run one of the biggest casinos in New Jersey. Atlantic City, like the policeman mentioned.”
“Why do you look concerned about your parents’ friends?” I asked carefully.
He pursed his lips. “Because I’m concerned that my parents were taken. Abducted.”
I snarled angrily, hating to hear that my assumptions were correct. “The vampires?” I asked.
Nosh shrugged. “Perhaps. Or it could be totally innocent. My parents knew I was coming over. If their plans changed, they would have called me,” he said, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He showed it to me, pointing out at a green square on the screen. “This one is for phone calls. It would have a red symbol on it—a notification—if they’d tried calling me.” There was no red symbol on it. He pointed at another green square. “This one would have a similar notification on it if they’d tried sending
me a message,” he explained, tapping the symbol.
The screen changed to reveal a list of names.
He tapped one that said mom, and the screen changed again to reveal several short messages. back and forth.
“Those are from earlier today,” Nosh explained, shutting the phone off and slipping it back into his pocket. “Nothing about going to dinner.”
“Perhaps they went to the auction,” I said, knowing that my commentary was worthless in a world that I hardly understood.
Nosh met my eyes as the elevator stopped. I glanced up to see 100 above the doors, and I shivered. The doors opened to reveal a lavish foyer with a single round table in the center. A crystal vase full of red roses decorated it. Nosh froze, staring at them with narrowed eyes.
“What is it?” I asked, stepping out of the elevator for fear that it would go back down with me still inside it.
A card was nestled among the flowers, and I watched Nosh storm over, snatching it away to read it with a grim frown. “My mother hates roses,” he abruptly snarled, swatting the vase of flowers down to the ground. It shattered, splashing water and glass everywhere. “They were taken,” he snarled.
Two slips of paper also rested on the table. Nosh met my eyes, and I could practically taste his rage. “They’re taunting me,” he said, glaring at them.
I leaned down, reading them. They were invitations to the auction. Two typed names had been crossed off at the top—Mr. & Mrs. Griffin—and replaced with two handwritten names, along with a crimson drop and the impression of red lipstick where a woman had kissed the crimson drop so that it hung between the imprint.
His parents’ blood. The lipstick was definitely a cruel taunt.
Nosh Griffin. Degan Smith.
I frowned. “They did not invite me.” I mused. “That might be good news. They don’t know I have awoken.”
Nosh was glaring at the invitations. “True. Dr. Smith—or Dr. Degan, as I always called him—was a close friend of my parents.” His eyes grew animated, coming up with plans. “We should get ready. I’ll turn the shower on and find something for you to wear.”
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