The Last Vampire Box Set

by R. A. Steffan

  The malty part wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but honestly, delicious and yummy might have been a bit of a stretch. I took the bowl to the table and poured some sugar from the sugar bowl into the mix, in hopes of making the experience match up to my childhood memories of Sugar Pops and Frosted Flakes a little more closely.

  In a moment of whimsy, I wondered if you could buy Lucky Charms in Ireland, because that would be pretty funny, actually.

  I’d heard Rans moving around while I was in the kitchen, so I figured he’d gone to one of the bedrooms to wait for me. It was telling that we both seemed to assume the aftermath of violent hate-sex and an uncomfortable conversation in a shared bathtub would involve sleeping in the same room.

  But he’d told me to ‘come to bed,’ rather than ‘go to bed.’ The implication was clear enough, and when I poked my head into the room I’d claimed as mine, it was to find him already there. I’d turned off all the lights except the one over the kitchen counter. It was still relatively early, the long summer evening not quite ready to cede dusk to night.

  Summer. July Fourth. Yet another thing I needed to try not to think about.

  I slid in next to the shadowed form resting beneath the sheets. When I drew breath to speak, however, a fingertip pressed over my lips to keep them closed.

  “Shh,” Rans said. “Not tonight. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning.”

  I let the trapped breath flow out through my nose, and nodded. Deft hands unbuttoned my purloined shirt, baring my skin to feather-light caresses that traveled the same path as the bruisingly possessive touches he’d used earlier. I fell into the promise of distraction eagerly, reaching out to explore his body in return and finding him naked under the bedclothes.

  Full dark fell outside as we did our best to avoid thinking about anything except physical pleasure, and by the time I eventually slipped into sleep, I was as warm and sated as I could ever remember being.

  EPILOGUE

  WHEN I WOKE UP the following morning, there was a cat perched on the chair across from the bed.

  I blinked, rubbed my eyes, and looked again. The cat was still there, its slanted green eyes and silky black coat worryingly familiar. The angle of the sun outside made me think it was still pretty early, in the ‘not a good time of day for vampires’ sense of being early. I nudged Rans with my elbow anyway, because I was fucking well not going to deal with an intelligent Fae cat burglar on my own.

  Especially not while I was naked, and presumably reeked like the morning after a hot vampire sex marathon.

  “Rans,” I hissed.

  “Huh?” Rans rolled into a sitting position next to me. His eyes narrowed, and he glared at the four-legged intruder with an expression that said he was less than happy about being poked awake to deal with something like this first thing in the morning. “Oh, for…”

  He grabbed a pillow, as if to throw at the sleek animal.

  In a flash, the cat morphed into a pretty, rather androgynous humanoid figure sitting cross-legged in the chair. Short black hair framed a pixie-like face lit by forest-green eyes.

  “… what the actual hell?” I asked faintly, too shocked to even think of dragging the sheet over my exposed boobs to cover them.

  “Leave now,” Rans ground out, “before I forget that I usually like cats.”

  The pixie-like intruder ignored him, focusing on me instead. “Why did you visit the Fae-kept human in Dhuinne, demonkin?”

  I stared back, trying to get my brain in gear. “The… Fae-kept…?” Then, it clicked into place. “Wait. You mean my father?”

  The pixie leaned forward, nostrils flaring as though to smell me. “Ah, I see. The human is your sire. Your language is still strange to me, and I didn’t notice the resemblance between you beneath the stench of demon.”

  I leaned back, attempting to get out of sniffing range. The effort only caused my shoulder to bump into Rans’ chest.

  “I’m about to find something harder and with much sharper edges to throw at you than a pillow,” Rans warned our nosy visitor.

  I put a quelling hand on his chest. “Hang on. What do you know about my dad?” I asked. “Why were you with him inside that house in Dhuinne? And, uh… what are you, exactly?”

  Yeah, so that last question might not have been the height of diplomacy. But, then again, neither was torturing someone and sentencing her to execution because of who her grandfather was, so I think I was owed a couple of free passes for manners, at the very least.

  “Our friendly neighborhood peeping tom is a cat-sidhe,” Rans said, still sounding irritated. “A Fae shape-shifter, in other words.”

  O-kay, then.

  I still couldn’t make a gender determination. Since it appeared we weren’t going to be standing on politeness this morning, I decided to ask rather than keep wondering about it. “Sorry, but are you male or female?”

  “No,” said the cat person.

  Cat faerie.

  Whatever.

  Either way, I supposed that answered that. “Non-binary. Gotcha. So… about my dad?”

  The Fae tilted their head. “Your sire was exchanged for my old Mistress’ son when they were both infants. I helped care for him when he was brought to Dhuinne, so she would not risk becoming too attached to him before the Tithe.”

  I was having difficulty untangling that statement, but Rans stiffened beside me.

  “Darryl Bright was replaced with a Fae changeling?” he demanded.

  The pixie-faced figure shrugged. “That is what I just said, vampire.”

  Rans was frowning. “But he lived on Earth. He had a family in the human realm.”

  “Yes, that is so. My Mistress died unexpectedly, not long after the exchange took place.” The Fae’s delicate features twitched into a matching frown. “The human titheling’s mother had some glimmering of the second sight. She knew the Fae infant was not her son, and she started using magic in an attempt to find out what had happened to her real child. I helped arrange for her son’s return to Earth, rather than risk a human learning too much about the Fae world. My Mistress’ baby was taken away from the woman and exchanged with a different Earth child, instead.”

  I lifted my hands in a time-out gesture. “Whoa. Back up. Can someone explain this in words of one syllable for the clueless human, please?”

  “You are not human, demonkin,” said the Fae.

  “I was raised human,” I shot back. “So just treat me like I am one, for purposes of this conversation—all right?”

  But the shape-shifter only looked confused. “If you were a human, we would not be having this conversation in the first place.”

  I closed my eyes and counted silently backwards from ten. “Rans?” I prompted. “A little help here, please?”

  Rans still sounded grim. “You’ve heard the old tales about fairy-folk stealing human babies, yes?”

  “Probably,” I replied. “I mean, I was never big on the Brothers Grimm, but it rings a vague bell.”

  “Well, like many legends about the Fae, there’s some truth in it,” he went on. “As far as I’ve been able to determine, the practice is part of their strategy to take control of the human realm from within. Caspian was a changeling, for instance.”

  I tried to twist my brain around that, looking between Rans and the Fae. “You mean the Fae are planting their own babies in human families and somehow grooming them to become… what? State Auditors?”

  Rans let out a huff. “Grooming them to become powerful people, certainly. I sincerely doubt that Golden Boy is on the Missouri Department of Revenue’s payroll as anything other than a high-paid consultant with connections in all the right places.”

  I pondered that. “Still. That’s kind of horrifying.” I returned my attention to the waiflike shape-shifter. “What happens to the human babies, though? What would have happened to my father if my grandmother hadn’t managed to get him back?”

  The Fae looked troubled.

  “Well?” I pressed. “You said something a
bout your… Mistress… not wanting to become attached to him before the, what was it? The Tithe?”

  Beside me, Rans had gone very still.

  The Fae’s voice was so soft I had to strain to hear the words. “Yes. The Tithe to Hell.”

  “What are you saying?” Rans’ tone grew dangerous.

  The shape-shifter blinked large, green eyes at him. “The Fae are bound by the treaty to deliver to Hell one child of every ten that are born. That was the price for peace. Well… that and your life, vampire.”

  Rans flinched almost imperceptibly.

  “In order to avoid sending our own children to our sworn enemies,” the Fae continued, “we exchange many of our babies for human children, and surrender those souls to the demons, instead.”

  My heart began to pound so hard that I was sure everyone in the room must have been able to hear it. “Oh, my god. Tell me you’re joking,” I whispered.

  Fine, dark brows drew together. “Why in Mab’s name would I joke about such a thing, demonkin?”

  My eyes flew to Rans. “This can’t possibly be what it sounds like… can it?” I demanded, trying not to fall headlong into a pool of assumptions that might be completely wrong. “I mean—Hell’s not really fire and brimstone, right? Nigellus even said so. And… he’s not evil. He’s your friend.”

  I’d been hoping for some kind of casual dismissal of my concerns; some scoffing reassurance that this ‘Tithe’ wasn’t what I thought it was. Instead, Rans seemed to have disappeared into that dark place I’d glimpsed on only a couple of occasions, when he was swallowed up by the holes in his own past.

  The elfin figure in the chair frowned at us, as though unsure what our problem was. “Your sire’s mind was broken when he was returned to Dhuinne, demonkin. Since he is of no more use to the Fae in his current condition, the Unseelie Commander who brought you to the Court has been arguing that he should be thrown in with the next Tithe shipment. Isn’t this a good thing? The demons are your allies, after all. Your people. Would you not rather have him in their custody than the Fae’s?”

  I was seriously running close to mental capacity here, but I made a valiant effort to consider the Fae’s words objectively.

  “Rans?” I asked, my tone wavering. “Is there some way we can get him back from the demons if that happens?”

  He seemed to shake himself free of whatever black hole of memory had swallowed him. “It’s… it’s possible. I don’t know. We can speak to Nigellus—”

  I swallowed hard. Nigellus. The other person whose friendship with Rans I might’ve destroyed when I ran off to Dhuinne.

  But our uninvited guest clearly hadn’t picked up on the uncomfortable subtext.

  “That would please me, I think,” the shape-shifter said, as though genuinely concerned for my father’s wellbeing. “However, you must take care. Many factions will be after the only living being who embodies humanity, demonkind, and Fae at the same time.”

  “What did you just say?” Rans asked sharply.

  But the Fae’s attention stayed focused on me. “Demonkin, the only reason your sire could possibly have survived marriage to a cambion—much less impregnated one—is because of the Fae magic he absorbed as an infant during his stay in Dhuinne, before he was returned to Earth.”

  “Bloody hell.” The hoarse whisper made me turn back to find that Rans had gone pale as a sheet.

  “What?” I demanded. “What’s wrong?”

  “What’s wrong?” Rans echoed in disbelief.

  “Yes!” I shot back, my temper flaring. “I mean, who cares if Dad picked up Fae magic via osmosis when he was a baby, or whatever the hell happened? The Fae already want to kill me just for being part demon!”

  He was still looking at me like I was nuts.

  “Zorah, don’t you see?” he said. “If this is true, you’ve just become the single most important person in the entirety of the three realms. This is far bigger than any of us realized before.” He rolled out of bed, apparently unbothered by his nakedness, and started rummaging for clothes. “Get dressed—you and I need to get back to the States and talk to Nigellus. There are forces at play here that could start a war big enough to put the last one to shame.”

  I caught the bundle of clothing he tossed at me and looked from him to the Fae, then back again.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m still not getting it,” I told him. “Why does this make me any more important than before?”

  He paused in the middle of dressing and came over to take my hands in both of his. I blinked up at him.

  “The Fae are sending human children to Hell,” he said slowly, his eyes burning into mine. “Human children who’ve been living in Dhuinne, and may have absorbed Fae magic during their stay… just like your father.”

  I frowned. “And if Fae magic meant that he was able to get my mom pregnant…”

  “Then the Fae may well be unknowingly providing their sworn enemies with the means to grow in number and strength until the balance of power is shifted in their favor, throwing everything into chaos again,” Rans finished.

  “Oh, my god,” I breathed.

  “Quite,” he agreed.

  It was too much to take in, on top of everything I was already worrying about.

  Stop, I tried to tell myself. Think about Dad. Stay focused on that. If the Fae intend to send him to Hell, you’ll need to talk to Nigellus anyway. Worry about the rest of it afterward.

  “Okay. Give me fifteen minutes for a shower,” I said. “Then I’ll be ready to go. I’ve got my own list of questions for Uncle Demon, and this time I’m not letting things go until I get some better answers from him.”

  End of Book Two

  The Last Vampire: Book Three

  By R. A. Steffan & Jaelynn Woolf

  ONE

  “WHY?” THE SINGLE WORD fell into the silence as though weighted with bricks. It barely even sounded like a question. Nigellus leaned forward, fingertips braced on the edge of the dining room table in his elegant Atlantic City mansion. “Explain to me, Ransley, what could conceivably have possessed you to take such an idiotic action. And without so much as consulting me first, I might add.”

  Ransley Thorpe—seven-hundred-year-old vampire and part-time white knight with a martyr complex—looked up at his demon mentor. He remained relaxed in his chair, still wearing a mild expression. But there was a dangerous glint hiding behind his icy blue eyes.

  “People keep asking me that,” he said in his precise English accent. “And I keep wondering why something that seems so obvious to me appears to be utterly opaque to everyone else.”

  Rans and I had arrived at Nigellus’ home some fifteen minutes ago, luggage in hand. Admittedly, that had been pretty brazen of us, since we hadn’t even called ahead to warn him we were coming. Also, there was the small issue of Rans having stolen a rare and powerful magical artifact from this house on his previous visit. All in all, I could understand Nigellus’ frustration.

  Hell… a part of me even shared it.

  Not so long ago, I’d snuck away from Rans and followed my kidnapped father to the Fae world of Dhuinne, in hopes of protecting both of them. The Fae were after me because of my hybrid parentage, and I was tired of other people being in constant danger simply because of their association with me.

  At the time, I’d understood that going to the Fae realm put my life at serious risk, but I chose to do it anyway. Whether it had been a good choice or a bad one was still something of an open question, but Rans had rendered it moot by coming after me and hauling me back by the scruff of the neck.

  Maybe most women would find the idea of him swooping into the Fae Court like a dark, avenging angel romantic. And it was undeniably true that by doing so, he’d saved me from execution. Yet I still found his eleventh-hour rescue stomach churning, more than anything, because of what had happened next.

  “Your actions have moved beyond recklessness and into blatant self-destruction. You bound your life to a mortal’s!” Nigellus’ voice resonated like
granite boulders grinding together.

  I winced.

  The magical artifact Rans had stolen the last time he was here was a crystal. Not just any crystal, mind you, but a crystal that allegedly bound two people together so tightly that the death of one would instantly cause the death of the other. Working on what could only be called a hunch, Rans had barged into the Fae Court and bound his life to mine in the presence of a collection of the most powerful Fae in Dhuinne.

  He was the last vampire in existence, after a magical weapon destroyed the rest of his race during the war between demons and Fae. He hadn’t known for certain that his continued survival was one of the treaty provisions that had ended the conflict, but he’d suspected it. Fortunately for both of us, he’d been right. And now that we were bound, his centuries-long life was doomed to end the moment my human one did.

  Well, I say human…

  “I acted to save a life that is important to me.” Rans still didn’t raise his voice. Neither did the spark of blue flame behind his eyes dim. “And if you’re as smart as I believe you to be, Nigellus, Zorah’s life will become important to you, too.”

  I cleared my throat awkwardly.

  “So, apparently I’m the only person in the three realms who combines Fae, demonkind, and humanity in a single package,” I said, striving to keep my voice steady. “My father was exchanged for a Fae changeling when he was a baby. He was sent back to Earth not long after, but he’d already absorbed Fae magic during his time on Dhuinne. That may be what allowed him to father a child with my mother, who was half-demon.”

  Nigellus’ dark eyes fell on me. His gaze pierced me like a blade, and I stifled a shudder of instinctive reaction to the copper-red glow kindling in their depths. It was the first time I’d seen his otherworldly nature peek through, and the first time I’d gotten a real hint of the power lurking beneath Nigellus’ urbane exterior. It made me realize how little I truly knew about the demon standing in front of us.

  But I still needed answers, scary red eyes or no. “And meanwhile,” I continued, “the demons have quietly been collecting human children who have absorbed Fae magic after living in Dhuinne. Are you doing that so you can make more hybrids like me?”