by K. A. Tucker
“Things like what, exactly?” I pressed, silently muzzling my shock over her admission.
“Well, I can see and sense magic. You already know that, though.” There was that crooked little smile again. “I can also compel vampires.” Her black eyes roamed over to the others as they stifled exclamations. “I don’t do it often, though. I prefer not to.”
“No, you can’t,” Bishop said confidently, as if calling her bluff.
As a response, Mage waved her hand toward Rachel. It quashed further rebuttal.
“How could we not know this?” Fiona asked. Close beside Bishop, she clung tightly to his biceps.
Mage smiled again. “That’s part of the magic. You can’t feel it. It’s not like a human coming out of a daze. You feel perfectly normal. You feel as if the idea is yours. It’s a different type of compulsion. It’s more like I’m . . . originating . . . an idea in your head. One that becomes yours that you can’t possibly ignore. You have no idea that it’s actually mine.”
All five of us shuddered in unison.
“So all this time . . . ” I wracked my memory of the last month, searching for anything I had done out of character, choices I had made that may have been planted by Mage.
Mage was already vigorously shaking her head. “No. I stayed out of your head.”
“Bull!” the retort flew out of my mouth faster than even I had intended.
“I did!” Mage insisted. “Partly because it’s harder to influence a cross-breed such as yourself and Jonah. Partly because I knew you’d never trust me if I did.”
“And you think I’m going to trust you now?” I snorted mockingly.
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“How does you being able to insert thoughts into our head not matter?” Caden interjected before I could ask, his tone low, threatening. To say no one in the room was happy would be an understatement.
“Because . . . ” Mage paused, resignation settling on her face. She wasn’t used to divulging her secrets and it was clear she didn’t enjoy doing it. “Once you’re aware of what I can do, it’s no longer possible for me to do it without you seeing it for what it is, rendering it useless.”
Did I believe her? I wasn’t sure . . .
Mage smiled. “Why do you think Viggo has been so anxious to find out if I’m the original vampire? He knows what the original vampire can do.”
It made sense . . . Viggo evaded any questions I had about the first vampire, including what had happened to her. That sneaky bastard. He knew what Mage might be able to do to me and he didn’t warn me! I’d pay him back for that one.
“Speaking of Viggo,” Mage pressed, “we need to get going. Now. Before this mess gets any bigger than it already is.”
As usual, Mage was right. There were bigger issues to deal with for now. We both turned to stare at the window. My attention couldn’t help but drift over to Rachel lying on the floor. “You know I could leave you in limbo, caught within the Merth’s hold. Powerless,” I murmured.
“Yes, you could. But you won’t. You’re not an idiot. You realize having me as an ally is a better position to be in than otherwise,” Mage answered without missing a beat.
Check mark. Another right answer, Mage. “Fine.” I glanced back at Evangeline’s friends. Viggo could stumble on this at any moment, as Rachel had. If they duked it out, one of them would die. I couldn’t risk it, I decided. I guess it’s time to test out your blood theory, Mage. “We’re all going.”
“If I so much as think you’re getting out of line, I’ll instantly have you bound and gagged with magic,” I warned the five vampires standing in a row behind me, dressed head to toe in black to blend into the night like cat burglars. Purpose and exhilaration shone in their vibrant eyes. And fear. Such an uncommon emotion for a vampire, but we were all acutely aware of the consequences if we failed. Mage and I more so, given we knew the real truth behind Ratheus. I’d have to tell the rest of them eventually. Now was not the time.
“We’ll be fine!” Bishop assured me, waving away my concern. “Let’s go! I’m ready to kill some mutants.”
“I hope that’s all we kill,” Fiona muttered from his left side, not nearly as confident as her partner.
I glanced back at Caden and Amelie. “We’re good, honest!” Amelie exclaimed with a nervous smile. Caden attempted a reassuring grin but it came out looking like a grimace. No one was sure of this—except Mage. She seemed to hold confidence in them. They had been feeding nonstop for weeks now, gorging on enough blood to last most new vampires a year, at least, and that paralyzing lust that first consumed them did seem to be slowly vanishing. Now I glimpsed Amelie’s bubbly personality, Bishop and Fiona’s affectionate nuzzles, Caden’s gentle smile—the vampires Evangeline had fallen in love with. It was heartening to see what I thought forever gone now suddenly here and real. But could they handle what lay outside these walls?
Impatient, I glanced at my watch. Only a few hours until the city comes to life. The darkness would help hide the mutants. But with the sunrise . . . We needed to stop them. Tonight.
“How long before Mortimer and Viggo discover this window?” Mage asked.
I shrugged. “Soon. Or never.” They rarely toured the building. But now, with others wandering about, it was going to be hard to hide. “They will notice we’re gone as soon as they decide to go looking for us. Let’s get out before they start looking. Okay . . . you guys ready?” I asked Caden and his friends, feeling oddly elated. Hunting did that to me.
“Hell, yeah!” Bishop grinned boyishly.
“Yeah!” Amelie cheered, earning a groan from Caden.
“We’re not going clubbing, Amelie!”
Her plump lips turned down in a pout. “I know. It’s just . . . ”
Caden wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze, smiling wickedly. He would be happy to see Jonah dead. Their pasts held a secret, I was sure of it.
I stepped to the edge of the Merth boundary. Rachel lay unmoving on the tiles nearby. Exactly how I should have left you from the beginning. I glanced back at Mage. She nodded and moved to stand beside me. Like two amiable women, we clasped hands and stepped forward.
A prickling sensation like a thousand tiny electric shocks instantly permeated my skin as I entered the Merth barrier. It wasn’t comfortable, but I knew it was nothing near the agony Mage was feeling right now. Like razor blades cutting into skin—that’s how they all described it.
The power of the Merth overwhelmed Mage’s body and it slackened and crumpled to the floor. I looked down at her frail little body. I could leave her here. It was a once in an eternity chance, and for a short second, I considered rolling the powerful, manipulative vampire over to lie beside Rachel. She’d never have the chance to insert anything into my head again.
Instead, I leaned forward and grabbed hold of her slender waist, heaved her up, and tossed her tiny body over my shoulder. I stepped onto the window ledge and paused, inspecting the dark alley below for any witnesses. None. Thankfully the mutants hadn’t busted out of a room facing onto Fifth Avenue.
At three storeys up, it was a long way down. For a human.
I jumped.
The heels of my boots cracked against the pavement beside a dumpster, the impact jarring my knees. Almost immediately, Mage was fully functional, pushing free of my grasp to stand beside me. She smoothed her black, mock turtleneck sweater. “Thank you for not stabbing me in the back.”
Despite myself, I grinned. “Anytime.”
Her eyes scanned the dark alley. “No bodies here. Good start.”
“Okay, wait right here. I have to get the others.” I hesitated. I had just unleashed a five thousand-year-old vampire with unique powers upon New York City and was about to leave her unchaperoned.
Mage rolled her eyes, such an uncharacteristic act for her. “Stop wasting time!”
I nodded once, then scaled the wall to get Evangeline’s friends.
True to her word, Mage didn’t abandon me while I tran
sported the others down. Soon they stood with me in the dark alley, the ability to satisfy their insatiable thirst lying open ahead of them. No Merth held them back; nothing kept them from bolting. And yet each stood frozen in place. In control.
Fat snowflakes began floating from the sky to speckle our clothes and hair. The temperature was dropping rapidly. It was December, after all; almost Christmas. It would have been beautiful, if not for the situation. But at least the streets would be relatively quiet.
“Okay, so now what?” Amelie whispered, her large, emerald-green eyes widening as a late-night reveler passed the entrance to the alley.
“If you’d just escaped prison and were looking for fresh blood, where would you go?” Caden asked.
Great question. I began walking toward the street, the five of them trailing me like shadows in a V-pattern. I stopped when we reached the sidewalk and scanned the vicinity, analyzing every structure, every object, every movement. Across from us stretched Central Park. The trees along the edge were lined with thousands of twinkling lights to mark the holiday season but beyond them, the heart of the park was vast, shadowy, and concealed. The perfect place for a massacre. Would there be one there tonight? There had already been one small massacre in Central Park recently, the day Ursula and the Sentinel attacked Evangeline.
My stomach instantly twisted into knots, remembering the day I almost lost her. Had it not been for Max, I would have. I was busy appeasing Viggo and Mortimer, toiling with my magical weaves to give the illusion that I was trying to solve Evangeline’s next steps on Ratheus. I wasn’t doing that. I already knew the answer to that. I was busy trying to dismantle the entire spell when the normally obedient girl hoodwinked Leo, turned Max’s allegiance, and snuck out.
Would Central Park appeal to the mutants? Every direction one turned was crawling with fresh, warm blood. Did the mutants have the sense to hide their faces? I pricked my ears, listening for the bloodcurdling screams I expected to come from any human encountering those demonic white eyes. Nothing. That was a good sign. But it wouldn’t last long.
“Let me try something,” I murmured, calling on my magic for a spell weave I had discovered in my regular witch years. It was the result of a moment of madness, after I’d accused Nathan of cheating on me because he refused to convert me. He had taken off in a huff. In a fit of fear-filled rage, I’d concocted a tracker spell and used it to find him in the woods nearby, feeding on a coyote. I wasn’t sure if it would work on mutants, but it was worth a shot.
I stepped back into the alley, not wanting to attract attention. Gathering a hundred helixes together, I held my hands out in front of me. The tiny purple coils appeared between my fingers for all to see. I began weaving them together in an intricate figure eight pattern until both sides were perfectly symmetrical. There. Now for something to track. To find Nathan, I had used his scent as the target—easy, because his scent lived on everything I owned. But now I had no scent to track the mutants. An idea struck me.
“Quick. I need blood,” I called out. Mage’s hand was there in an instant, a sharp piece of metal in her other hand. “On the links. Lots of it.” She ran the jagged edge across her wrist without flinching, opening up a wide gash. Blood streamed out onto the magical links, saturating them before her wrist naturally healed over. “That’s good. Thanks.” I hoped it would work, given I had used vampire blood instead of human. There was a chance the links would pick up on regular human-to-human violence in the city. Still, it was the best option. I broke the figure eight in half, flinging one bloody, glowing half outward.
“Wow,” Fiona and Amelie murmured in unison, watching it float away. The guys were busy surveying the streets, Caden with his arms folded tightly over his chest and Bishop with his hands deep in his pockets, rocking back and forth. Both looked anxious but completely in control. This was a good sign.
“It’s a tracker,” I explained. “Not exactly subtle, but anyone out at this time will be too drunk or high to be suspicious.” Unless they recognize magic. My eyes shifted nervously to the trees across the street, watching for movement within the shadows. The foliage had long-since disappeared into a mass of blackness—perfect cover.
“Pretty, isn’t it?” Mage observed, interrupting my paranoia. “Should you make a couple more, just in case?”
I nodded. A regular sorceress would be foolish to use her magic in this way, knowing she was going into battle. It took a significant amount of magical reserves. But I had more than enough helixes floating around my body. I went to work, sending two more tracker links out within seconds to do our bidding. “There. When the links find fresh blood, they send back a message to their sister-half.”
“So, now what?” Mage asked, hawk-like eyes surveying the street.
I drew the three links from my hand around my wrist. To anyone without a clue, they looked like purple glow-in-the-dark bracelets, the kind teenagers wore to raves. Except they were covered in blood. “Now we wait.”
Approaching heels clicked against the sidewalk. We all turned to see a young woman in a long dark trench coat and woven red beret hurry past, her furtive eyes glancing down the alley to see six people staring back. She sped up, casting a worried glance over her shoulder at us. That was the worst thing a person could do with a group of vampires behind her. I shifted my weight, ready to ground them with magical ropes if necessary. But they remained still, Amelie admiring the woman’s leather boots. Not even one vein pulsated in their eyes. I began to relax. Maybe Mage was right . . .
Bright purple light began flashing in the alley. I looked down at the helix links. One’s identical twin had found fresh blood; it was pulling me to the right. “Come,” I hissed, magical bolts of fire ready at my fingertips as I set off at a brisk pace. The streets were nearly empty at this hour. Thank God. We passed ten people in the first block. Each time, my attention bounced from the passerby’s face and hands—looking for signs of a Sentinel spy—to the five vampires traveling with me, assessing everyone’s level of control. Each time, Mage turned to meet my gaze, to assure me, “They’ll be fine.” It wasn’t much, but it was the support I needed.
As if we’d walked into a solid wall, all six of us suddenly stopped, hit with the pungent scent of freshly spilled blood. Both Amelie and Fiona let out cries of pain, the crushing urge to feed catching them unprepared. Caden and Bishop each threw their hands out to grab them by their shoulders.
“I’m okay!” Amelie cried, though her emerald-green eyes were morphing. I checked all of their eyes. They had all morphed, but none were quite so full of veins as before. That was a good sign. It meant they had some level of control.
I moved ahead, hugging the wall so closely that my shoulder grazed the bricks, gaining distance from the others as they hung back. The link was pulling me to an alley ahead. What would I find there? Jonah and his posse of mutants? No; trapping and disposing of them all in an alley would be too easy. I slowed to a creep, edging forward until I could peek around the corner into the darkness. No mutants, from what I could see. Two fire sparks instantly ignited at my fingertips, though. I wasn’t taking any chances.
Caden and Bishop came up and flanked either side of the alley. With boyish, commando-like signals, they waved me through.
“How about we stay on guard out here,” Mage suggested, her arms linked through Fiona and Amelie’s.
I nodded and entered the alley alone, heading toward the dumpster in the back corner. My stomach sank as I spotted a trail of red leather, torn and bloodied. It led to the far side of the dumpster, to a pair of long, pale, female legs, lying in a pool of blood. Evangeline’s precious face flooded my mind then, paralyzing me for a moment. I forced myself to continue to the other end of the dumpster and looked down. My teeth clenched so tightly, I thought they would crack.
There could be no doubt: this was the work of newborn mutants.
By the silky material around the woman’s thighs, I could tell she had been out enjoying New York’s nightlife. Her last night out. From what
I could see of her face, she looked young, no more than eighteen. My heart instantly swelled for her parents. This girl was someone’s Evangeline.
Mage suddenly appeared beside me to observe the body, but only lasted a second before turning around and stalking to the other side of the alley, the blood no doubt the cause of that. “We need to keep moving,” she said through tight lips, adding, “fast. If anyone finds that . . . ” She didn’t need to finish. I knew what would happen. It would make front page news.
I sighed, then muttered, “We can’t leave her here.” We couldn’t have this much attention this close to Viggo and Mortimer’s place. The Sentinel would certainly put two and two together, if they hadn’t already.
“Then you had better do something, and quick. They’re likely still traveling in a pack. They wouldn’t think to do otherwise right now. But soon enough, they’ll scatter.”
And then we’d have five mutants heading in five different directions. I brushed away the giant snowflake that had landed on my nose as I weighed my options. I couldn’t burn the body; the smoke and flames would draw too much notice. And cloaking spells were temporary. I didn’t have time to weave the spell that would mask the evidence properly. Those kinds of spells took more time than we had. I looked at the dumpster. A very unimaginative, human way of disposing of a body.
“I’m sorry for this,” I whispered, throwing open the top of the large green bin. Delicately, careful not to soil my clothes—I enjoyed blood as much as the next vampire, but I didn’t enjoy bathing in it—I hoisted the body up and tossed her in, rubbing my hands to get all evidence of blood off afterward. There. At least when she was discovered, it would take time to trace her back to here. I assessed the blood pool on the pavement. Perhaps I could lift it all—
The second link on my wrist began flashing brilliantly. More fresh blood. The third one went off immediately after. A lot of fresh blood. All thoughts of this crime scene vanished, driven out by fear of what lay ahead. I ran to the others.
“Where to now?” Mage asked, faint red lines still marring her almond-shaped eyes.