by J. M. Adele
Shiloh ground her teeth. “Yeah, it is.”
“I think I found a pattern.” Lanie cracked a smile, waving her hand for Shiloh to come and see.
All animosity forgotten, she wheeled her chair closer as Lanie pointed to her notebook. “Fifteen people were last seen off Hollywood Boulevard in the few weeks before your disappearance. Six of them were outside a club called Fluid Prey and the rest, not far from it. It’s not much. We’re working on limited info here, but it is a pattern. I think we need to check it out.”
“How are we going to get into a club without ID?”
“I know a guy.”
“What?”
Lanie shut down her laptop and packed up her things as she spoke. “I realize you’ve been sheltered with your big swimming career, your celebrity status on campus, and your Olympic dream, but some of us grew up in the real world. I know who to go to for drugs. I know who to see for ID. I also know which nerds will do your homework for a price. I. Know. A. Guy.”
It was official. Shiloh had failed as a big sister.
_____
Lanie bent forward, almost touching her nose to the mirror as she glued her false eyelashes in place. Shiloh had put hers on in two seconds and was now adding a final layer of lipstick. Miss Popular might not be a party girl, but she had admirers and a boyfriend to impress. She knew how to pretty herself up. Lanie didn’t give a crap. She had no idea what she was doing, the glue sticking to her fingers more than her eyelids, but she finally got them in place and stepped back to inspect her work.
I look like a hooker.
Sneering at her reflection, she ran her tongue over her teeth, recently freed of their metal binds. The smooth surface was weird on her tongue, but at least that was one less clue as to her real age.
“You look amazing.” Shiloh smiled.
“I look like a tramp. I never could do my makeup for gym comps. How come you don’t look like a tramp?”
“Maybe try toning down the blush and go for a pink–rose color on the lips. The fire engine red isn’t doing it for you.”
Lanie surveyed her sister’s reflection. Beautiful. How could she look so like Shiloh and yet still never measure up? “It’s working for you.”
“Yeah, but I’ve done a pale cat-eye look on the eyes. You’ve gone smoky.”
“Ugh, God. Sometimes I hate being female.”
“Here, let me fix it. Sit down.”
Lanie closed her eyes as the soft tissue brushed against her cheek. Feeling the press of her sister’s finger under her chin, she fought against the coursing of adrenaline resulting from being so close to a set of fangs. She’d nearly lost this. And although her body instinctively knew that it could be in danger, she’d take a vampire sister over a dead sister any day.
Lifting her lids, her gaze roamed Shiloh’s face. Even without makeup her sister’s skin was flawless, but since her transformation the pink hues under the surface of her skin had lifted. Her lighter brown eyes stood out, framed with thick lashes and eyeliner. When Seth was around they set off in a rainbow of fireworks. And when she was thirsty, red stained the amber. It wasn’t something you’d notice unless you were studying her closely. If anyone was to catch her drinking they’d see her irises alight with scarlet. But when she went into bloodlust and black consumed the whites of her eyes, that was some freaky shit. She’d only seen it once, in the parking lot.
Shiloh applied a fresh coat of lipstick to Lanie’s mouth and straightened, recapping the stick. “Much better.”
“Thanks. You ready for this?”
“Maybe you should stay in the car.” Shi threw all the makeup back in its case and snapped it shut.
“Not happening.”
“But what if you end up like me?”
“I’ll have another try at the red lipstick if that happens.”
She propped her hands on her hips. “Lanie.”
“Shiloh.” Mimicking her sister, Lanie exaggerated her voice.
“You are such a pain in the ass, you know that?”
“Learned it from you. Let’s go.”
Burial
Smoke tumbled out of the door of Fluid Prey as the bouncer ushered them in. Raising her head in awe, Shiloh took in the huge room. From the outside, the building looked as large as a movie studio, big enough to hold the set of Titanic. Inside, it had four levels of balconies, each one containing a bar and spaces divided off for separate parties to indulge in whatever pleasures they desired. Elaborate chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and vines twined their way along banisters and up poles. Mirrors lined the walls, giving the reverie a feeling of infinity.
The pounding music made it impossible for the sisters to hear each other as they navigated the crammed bodies gyrating under swirling showers of light. Shiloh’s grip clamped onto her sister’s arm so hard Lanie had to loosen it. Shiloh mouthed an apology and signaled for them to get off the dance floor and over to some booths at the far end of the expanse.
Jostled between all the sweaty bodies dripping in pheromones, Shiloh’s sanity attempted to claw its way out of her skull. Why do people voluntarily submit to this torture?
They pushed through, several eyes locked on them while the white flash of teeth glowed brightly under the black lights. Recognizing several famous faces, she understood the exclusivity of the club, wondering how they got in so easily. Suggestive smiles were thrown their way. A shudder wracked Shiloh’s body, and she pushed Lanie faster as it became obvious several sets of teeth had extra-long canines.
The place was crawling with bloodsuckers.
How had the existence of vampires remained a secret?
Bursting free of the throng, they sucked in the tainted air, stale with sweat and the output from the fog machines. Shiloh searched the booths for an empty space, her gaze springing back when she scanned past a familiar face. Detective Carter, draped in a silver, sequined, backless dress, and chugging down a weird-looking martini. Perched on the end of the seat, she leaned in to the man beside her and licked up his neck before grinning and bouncing up from her seat, heading to the dance floor.
Shiloh blocked the detective’s path. Carter swayed towards her, on the verge of a hug, or a dance. Or maybe just collapsing. Her breath smelled of alcohol, but there was something else lacing it. Surely not drugs. As Carter’s arms snaked around Shiloh’s neck, over the detective’s shoulder Shiloh caught sight of the people sitting at a nearby table popping things—possibly pills, it was hard to see—on their tongues. She doubted they were the complimentary peanuts.
“I know you. Shiiiloh. You smell different. You’ve been mated. Lucky you. It always makes us smell different.” Swaying from side to side, she led Shiloh in a weird slow dance. “Aren’t the colors pretty?”
Mated?
Us?
Did she mean vampires?
“What are you talking about?” Lanie stood behind the woman, pulling her arms off Shiloh’s shoulders.
Yeah, what was she talking about?
The detective spun out of her hold and threw her hands in the air, squealing in delight. “I love this place!”
Was this the same woman who had interviewed her? Taken Shiloh’s bloodied swimsuit as evidence and vowed to find the person who had hurt her? Carter was talking like she knew things. Was it possible that vampires had infiltrated the LAPD?
“What are you talking about, Carter?” Shiloh wanted to shake the woman as a ball of panic swelled in her chest.
“We’re never fully satisfied until we find our one. Human blood is bland in comparison, but unfortunately, necessary for Seekers.” She glanced at Lanie before smiling widely, revealing her impressive dagger points. “Didn’t you figure it out?”
Oh, shit. “Uh, no.”
“No, I guess you’re still uneducated. Honey, welcome to the club. Nobody gets in here unless they’re a vamp, or accompanied by one. You’ll soon realize there are thousands of us, living in secret. Don’t worry—I made the evidence disappear.” She swiped her hands through the air,
cleaning an invisible window.
Lanie shoved her face into the woman’s personal space, heat rolling off her body in waves. “What evidence?”
“The Chatsworth Quarry dust. It’s conveniently missing. Simpson will never find the place,” Carter sang the words, clearly pleased with her deviance.
The recollection of her dirt-covered body plastered itself to the back of Shiloh’s eyelids and worked to pull out forgotten memories.
“What does the Chatsworth Quarry have to do with anything?”
“Arkose sandstone. It changes color as it weathers. You were covered in it. Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten your birthplace.”
Everything slowed before fading away as her mind traveled back in time.
Unable to breathe, she frantically gouged her fingernails into the cold earth, making small tunnels that collapsed back in as fast as she’d made them. Her silent grave pressed heavily on her, creeping into every crevice it could find. Ears. Eyes. Mouth. The sensory deprivation twisted her brain, wringing out the fluid until it was a shriveled nut. But she could still feel. Fighting against her cocoon, she pushed with all her strength until she had enough wriggle room to dig towards what she hoped was the way up.
Her fingers broke the surface, her wrist swinging wildly to widen the gap and gain purchase. Soon it was enough to invite in the fading daylight and air. Stretching her neck towards the light like a sunflower, she evicted the dirt from her mouth and dragged in her first breath.
She waited. Tingles worked their way through her body, amplifying until she quaked with power and burst from her grave with a roar. Collapsing in a heap, she surrendered to exhaustion, thawing her chilled body under the warm sun.
“Fuck.”
“You remember.” Carter broke out in raucous laughter before dancing off.
“What just happened?” Lanie’s gentle touch abraded what was left of Shiloh’s patience.
“Get us out of here.”
“What—”
“Just do it!” she screamed, her fangs punching out of her gum, piercing her lower lip.
“Shit. Follow me.” Lanie led the way, her tiny body shouldering vampires out of their path. If Shiloh had any control she might’ve been impressed, but her chest heaved like she was buried alive all over again.
Suddenly, bodies started slamming together, collecting in a wall of flesh either side of their path. It was as if some unknown force was holding them to ransom. The loud music was no match for the revelers’ terrified screams. The sisters didn’t waste the break, bolting towards freedom amid the chaos. The walls collapsed in their wake, bodies falling into Shiloh’s heels.
They weren’t going fast enough. With her eyes on the door, Shiloh scooped up her sister behind the knees and shoulders, and leaped towards freedom, landing in front of the bouncer. He held up a hand to stop them, and she visualized ripping it off, snapping her head up to spear him with a warning instead.
Her body locked as red washed across her vision of the familiar face. “You.”
Lanie jumped out of Shiloh’s hold, stumbling back. “No.”
Fierce in a long black cloak over black jeans and a tight black shirt, Devlin looked like he’d earned his name the bad way. Eyes ablaze with red, he bent close to Shiloh, dragging his nose a breath away from her lips. Fear had her blood hammering, but she was frozen to the spot.
A deep line carved between his brows as he looked at her. “Contaminated.”
Contaminated. What did he mean?
Her heart turned to stone, the affliction spreading like a disease into her ribcage and organs. Another tomb-like confinement under some strange power. Her eyes stupidly pricked with tears.
“Shiloh, let’s go!”
I can’t. She couldn’t move her jaw to say the words.
Blazing red eyes held her in their grip, Devlin’s raised hand forming a claw that seemed to squeeze her insides until she felt she’d pop. He dropped his hand, his eyes turning fully black before he was gone.
The stone crumbled from her insides, setting her free. She rocked forward as air rushed into her lungs. People pushed their way past, stampeding for the door.
“Go!” Shiloh grabbed her sister and ran.
Those black eyes.
Devlin is a vampire.
Holy shit.
His irises had burned blood red before the pupils spilled their ink, eclipsing the entire surface of his eye.
She’d never forget the chilling sight.
Lanie had told Shiloh about her black eyes. Was that what she looked like? Had he been hungry? Thirsty for her blood?
Contaminated.
Did he mean her blood was contaminated? He’d almost carved the word in his deep tenor. Set it in stone. Like she had been. Had he done that?
He reeked of evil. What did he want with her? Or had he already had a taste?
The trail he’d made up her neck as he sniffed her scent still tingled. She scrubbed her palm over the skin, desperate to get rid of the sensation.
Not only did the tingle form ice in her veins, it set her alight.
She’d liked it.
Fuck.
Birth
Seth licked her blood from his lips and rolled off her body. “I love your taste.”
“I love yours, too.” She blinked at his bedroom ceiling, knowing she’d just told him a lie, his cinnamon flavor acrid on her tongue.
Something had happened in that club. A shift in her makeup. A tear in the membrane that tethered her to Seth. The pull was still there, but it had weakened. His taste wasn’t the same, and yet it was. She couldn’t figure out why.
Spending most of her hours in the seclusion of her bedroom, she’d vary between staring at her trophies—another symbol of what she’d lost, and rubbing at her skin—a futile attempt to rid the remnants of her underground terror from her body.
She’d ripped the bars from her window so she and Seth could regularly feed. Her parents hadn’t said anything. They were probably too scared to upset her in case she flipped out again. At school, she searched for Devlin, invariably finding him watching her from afar. Frustration consumed her at being unable to approach him with Seth stuck to her side. He escorted her between classes. She had to peel him off when it was time for him to leave. He wasn’t stupid. He knew something was off. Her acting skills were crap.
She just wanted answers.
“Shi?” Seth’s finger traced a path down her arm.
She forced herself not to recoil. “Yeah?” Flat. Her voice was flat.
“What are you thinking?”
“I remember.”
He sat up, twisting to watch her. “What do you remember?”
“Being buried alive.”
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
His shoulders stiffened. “Have you told anyone?”
What? I tell him I was buried alive and he asks if I’ve told anyone. “Just you.”
Bobbing his head, he shifted to sit cross-legged. “Okay. Good. You can’t tell anyone. You know that, right?”
Laying a hand on her belly, he trailed it upwards. The sensation she normally felt from his touch was muted.
Swinging her gaze to his, she narrowed her eyes, and he removed his palm.
“We can’t expose our secret. If the cops start asking questions again, our cover will be blown.”
The LAPD is probably infested with vampires. “Yeah. I guess.”
“We’d better get ready for school.”
Is that all he’s going to say? He’s not going to ask how I got out, or if I’m okay? “I’m not going.”
He looked at her like she had a toe growing where her nose should be. “You have to.”
“No, I don’t.”
“What are you going to do, then?”
“I need to rest today. I’m tired.”
“Do you want me to—”
“No.” She bit out her reply before thinking better of it. “No, I’d like to be alon
e. Thanks.”
Standing, she crossed the room to put on her clothes.
“Jesus, Shi. I’ve done everything I can to help you deal with this and you treat me like shit.”
“I just need some breathing space. You’ve been shadowing my every move.” Yanking the T-shirt over her head, she ground her teeth.
“Because I’m looking out for you. Fuck me for caring.”
“I have to deal with this in my head, and having you smother me isn’t helping. I appreciate you, babe, but this isn’t us. You weren’t like this before. Let’s try and get back to how we were before all this happened.”
Blowing a long breath out through his nose, he flopped back on the bed. “Fine. Whatever you want.”
“Thank you.”
She jumped out of the window and bolted across the street, knowing she was too fast to be seen. After she climbed through her window, she headed down the hallway. Knocking softly on Lanie’s door, she hoped her sister was already awake.
“Come in.” Dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, Lanie sat at her desk in front of her laptop.
“I have to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“I was buried alive. Or maybe I was dead and I … I don’t know, came to life or something, but I was in a grave.”
Color leeched from Lanie’s face as she listened. “Oh, my God. That’s horrific.”
Shiloh rolled her shoulders as if shaking off the dirt all over again. She needed to purge. Set herself free. “That night at the club, I remembered digging myself out. Detective Carter said something about the quarry being my birthplace. I think I should see it.” She didn’t want to. She needed to. “The other thing is, if humans are turned into vampires through a bite, what did she mean by birthplace?”
“You bit Seth, and he turned into a leech.”
Ugh. She’d rather be called a bloodsucker, or a monster. Leech sounded so … parasitic. “True. Thanks for the insult.”
“You’re welcome. I printed out a map of the quarry.” Lanie got off her chair and grabbed her backpack, taking out a rolled up bit of paper. “It was shut down in 1915 after it supplied tons of rock for the San Pedro Breakwater. It’s about twenty-eight miles northwest of LA. I was going to catch the bus.”