by Мишель Роуэн
“He seems very powerful for his age.”
I remembered his grip on my throat and the whack he’d given me that knocked me out.
“You could say that.”
“A talented witch or wizard is a rare breed. There are so few who can actually work the darker arts at their whim. Your—Steven, is it?—could prove to be very dangerous. You should be careful.”
“I appreciate your concern.” I tried to look comfortable and knew I was failing miserably.
“Feeling better than yesterday?”
He nodded and gave me a dazzling smile. “Your blood worked wonders. It only confirmed what I already knew. Tomorrow at midnight everything will change and the ritual will work exactly as planned.”
“You’re sure you still want to go through with it?” I asked, my mouth dry. “I mean, you have your shiny new glamour Rolex and you don’t have pain anymore. Why take the next step into a life of fangs and blood-drinking if you don’t have to?”
“Because all of this—” he waved a hand over his face “—is only an illusion. Damage sustained from hellfire is not the same as any other injury. I’m looking for a more permanent solution.”
“Immortality is just about as permanent as you can get. Almost as permanent as a tattoo.”
“Exactly.” His smile widened. “Sarah, I want to apologize for my behavior last night. It wasn’t right to attempt to force my affections on you.”
I shook my head. “I overreacted.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you?”
“I guess I felt a bit overwhelmed with you and my curse and everything. And when you kissed me…” I cleared my throat. “Well, I felt a little confused. Obviously.”
He stood up from the bed and closed the small distance between us in a couple of short steps. He held his hand out to me and I tentatively took it. “I want to show you something.”
I forced myself not to pull away from him. Honey, not vinegar.
He led me over to the desk in the corner of the suite, slid open the top drawer, and removed a worn-looking, black leather-bound book with gilded edges. He flipped through the pages to show me that it was handwritten with diagrams and sketches.
I couldn’t believe my own eyes. “The witch’s grimoire?”
“It is.” He turned toward a page in the middle. “All of the evil spells she used to ruin people’s lives are in here. Here’s the one she must have used on you.”
With wide eyes I looked down at the book to see the small, precise handwriting of the crazy-assed evil witch who’d cursed me. It was titled with:
NIGHTWALKER (DARK VAMPIRE) CURSE
The writing itself looked to be Latin, but that was only an educated guess from all the supernatural TV shows I watched. She’d drawn a picture of a happy face with sharp fangs and a small notation in blue ink: “Perfect for Sarah Dearly.”
She’d obviously been thinking ahead.
“This is unbelievable,” I managed.
He turned the page. “And here is the incantation to remove your curse.”
And, yes, it was actually titled:
NIGHTWALKER (EVIL VAMPIRE) CURSE **REMOVAL**
This one was illustrated with an unhappy smiley face. With fangs.
The witch may have been crazy, but she sure was organized.
I reached out for the book, but Gideon slammed it shut on my hand.
“Ouch.” I pulled my hand back.
“Sorry. But I can’t give all my secrets away that easily.” He grinned. “Not before you help me track the Red Devil.”
I inhaled sharply. “Right. About that.”
“You are reluctant to tell me anything about him, aren’t you? Even with the grimoire as your reward.”
“It’s not that, I…” I shook my head. “I don’t know.”
“I understand,” he said.
I looked at him with surprise. “You do?”
“Of course. You don’t want to hurt anyone. I admire that, Sarah.”
“You do?” I said again.
“Yes, I do. However, it doesn’t change anything. The Red Devil must die. And you’re my link to find him while he’s still in the city.”
“And if I don’t, you won’t give me the grimoire.”
“I can give you so many things.” He stroked the hair back from my face. “Anything you desire. I’m a very rich man—even if everyone thinks I’m dead.”
“I don’t want your money. Or any gifts. I just want the grimoire.”
“And I want the Red Devil.”
“I’m sure he’d be flattered.”
He slid his hand down the side of my face to my throat and neck, where he drew a line with the tip of his index finger along my gold chain. “I don’t think you should break your curse at all. Do you know what being a nightwalker really means?”
Gideon was way too close to me, our bodies were nearly touching. I could feel the heat coming off him in waves and smell the scent of his skin. Humans did smell like food to vampires when they got too close—warm, edible, and delicious. I was thankful that, while my chain was on, I had control over my thirst. I’d mostly stayed away from humans since I was sired and replaced my casual acquaintances and friends from my old job with new vampire friends. It was a bit disheartening how easily they’d accepted that I’d moved on to a new social group, but it was safer that way.
However, Gideon tended to get a little too close for comfort.
Close enough for me to feel the hard outline of his BlackBerry in the pocket of his pants.
At least… I think that was his BlackBerry. Or maybe he was just happy to see me.
Or both.
Damn.
Maybe I should answer his question, I thought. And stop focusing on what he has in his pants.
“Being a nightwalker means I’m an out-of-control monster who needs to be staked before
I hurt somebody,” I finally said.
He shrugged and drew even closer to me until my back was pressed firmly against the wall. “Or it means you have oceans of power at your fingertips. Along with your special blood, you could take your curse and make it an asset. Maybe you shouldn’t try to stop the inevitable. Don’t you believe in fate?”
“I believe in not using humans as chew toys. It’s kind of been a rule of mine.”
“So well-behaved for a vampire.” He lowered his head so we were eye to eye and slid his hand around to the small of my back. “Do you ever think about how it would be if you just let go of all that control? I bet you’d find it very pleasurable.”
“As pleasurable as you found your afternoon… nap?” I asked pointedly.
“Jealousy doesn’t suit you, Sarah.”
I braced my hands against his chest. “I’m not jealous.”
“Admit it—to yourself and to me. Despite who I am. Despite who you are. You like me.”
His lips curled to the side and he focused on my mouth for a moment longer than was polite. “And I bet your nightwalker likes me, too, doesn’t she?” He touched my chain and let his finger trail boldly down the front of me. “The part of you that wants to be free and wild and unrestrained?”
Something deep inside me shifted and surged forward. It was a healthy burst of lust that agreed wholeheartedly and without reservation to what Gideon was saying.
He was right. My inner nightwalker wanted Gideon so much she was fighting me right now for control even with my gold chain on. She wanted to make his bedsheets even messier than they already were.
I thought back to what Veronique had said that morning about the Carastrand’s magic only being a temporary thing.
If so, there was no time to waste.
“It’s true,” I said. “I do like you.”
He raised an eyebrow at the admission.
I was so close. I wanted to slip my hand into his pocket and grab the BlackBerry and then run as far away from Gideon as I could get—he was much too dangerous to me on too many levels.
“That’s right,” he whispered approvingly into m
y ear as my hands slid lower on his body.
“I knew you wanted me.”
He covered my mouth with his and he kissed me. I kissed him back as I attempted to maneuver my way into his pocket to get what I’d come there for.
Unfortunately, despite his healthy libido, Gideon wasn’t stupid. It would have been so much easier if he was. He knew what I was after. His hand clamped down on my wrist just as I felt the cool metal of the cell phone.
“Someone has wandering hands,” he said.
“I thought you wouldn’t mind.”
“But I do.” He stepped back from me and eyed me with sudden distrust. “I’m disappointed in you, Sarah.”
I felt frozen. Caught. Exposed. And a little bit dirty.
“I… I don’t know what—”
“Get out,” he said quietly.
“But I thought we were—”
“Leave now before I get angry and do something I might regret.” His eyes glittered and his hands were clenched in fists at his sides. “I will contact you about the ritual tomorrow.”
Feeling defeated and embarrassed, I slunk out of his hotel room without another word.
Great plan, I told myself dejectedly. Now he trusts me even less than he already did.
Total failure.
What else was new?
I started walking along Spadina Avenue. I needed to clear my head and think things through even though I knew it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Red Devil Thierry didn’t come out of the woodwork again. He was probably pissed off at me, too.
Take a number.
I tried to make things better and they just got worse. It was a talent, or something. I should teach classes at the Learning Annex.
After ten minutes of wandering in the cold night air with only my self-deprecating thoughts to keep me company I passed the entrance to Darkside. Like any self-respecting secret vampire nightclub, it was completely nondescript from the outside. In fact, it appeared to be a boarded-up used bookstore with a For Sale sign in the front window. If I concentrated and used my stronger vampire senses, I could hear the dance music from inside, but the insulation was very good. No humans, including hunters, would be any the wiser.
The bouncer—the same one from the other night—stood outside with his back to the club.
To anyone who didn’t know better he looked like some guy loitering all alone and definitely unapproachable if you knew what was good for you. He smoked a cigar and eyed me as I passed. I remembered the last time I’d seen him, when he’d let me run after the fledgling-in-distress because he wasn’t paid enough to put himself in harm’s way.
Still charming.
“Slayer of Slayers,” he said with a grin.
I forced a smile onto my face. “Thought I told you that wasn’t me.”
“You told me but I don’t believe you—I know who you are. Honestly, you should be proud of such a rep. I’m impressed.”
“Then my work here is done.” I looked up at the building. “I heard a rumor this place has been sold. Please tell me it’s not closing down.”
He shrugged. “No idea what’s going to happen next. Nobody tells me nothing.”
It would suck if the new owners shut it down. No more vampire clubs in Toronto would be a major bummer. Maybe I’d teach myself how to knit.
“Anyhow, good to see you again.” I wanted to move along toward my comfortable bed and try to forget tonight ever happened, as if that was remotely possible.
“Yeah, you, too.” He leered at me and it made me uncomfortable enough to start walking, quickly, away from him.
Creepy men seemed to come in the fanged and nonfanged varieties.
After another minute I came to the alley where I’d nearly had a fledgling midnight snack, and I repressed a shudder at the memory. Would I really have hurt her? I had no doubt I would have bitten her, but would I have stopped before it was too late?
“Hey,” the bouncer said, and I froze and looked over my shoulder. He’d trailed after me from the club. “Can I ask you a question?”
I swallowed, feeling more than a little uncomfortable. “Sure.”
“How many slayers have you killed?”
“That’s a bit hard to answer.”
“That many, huh?” He gazed at me with obvious appreciation of my deadly prowess.
“That’s pretty hot.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that. Blood and guts is hell on a manicure.”
“So, do you think you could take me in a fight?” he asked.
I eyed him. He was big and brawny and looked tough enough to smash beer cans against his forehead if he was so inclined. “Let’s never find out, shall we?”
His expression soured. “You’re not too friendly, are you?”
“The least friendly person I know, actually.”
“I don’t normally take any shit from women. My ex-wife used to cost me a fortune in alimony. She was a total bitch.”
“Was?” I asked, tentatively.
“Yeah. Was.”
“Look, I don’t want any problems tonight.”
“Do I seem the type to give somebody like you a problem?”
“Actually, yes.” My heart rate had picked up. “Very much so and regularly. And I’m not in the mood to deal with any extra strife in my life so if you wouldn’t mind leaving me alone so I can go home to my Slayer of Slayers lair, I’d really appreciate it.”
“You didn’t answer my question before,” he said.
“What question?”
“Do you think you could take me in a fight?”
“I don’t think so,” I answered honestly, a chill going down my spine. “So why don’t you go away now and I won’t have to scream my head off for help.”
“Nobody’s going to help you,” he said. “Nobody helps anybody anymore. It’s everyone for themselves, dog eat dog. Kill or be killed.”
“If you’re thinking about mugging me, I think I have about five bucks in my purse. Hardly worth the effort.”
He laughed. “I don’t attack women. What kind of a monster do you take me for?”
I finally exhaled the breath I’d been holding. “You were seriously freaking me out. Then why are you acting like this?”
“Like what?”
“Like somebody who is going to attack somebody.”
“I’m stalling for time.”
I frowned. “You’re… stalling for time?”
“Yeah. You walk really fast. I needed to let my friends have a chance to catch up.”
“Friends,” I repeated, feeling the churning, sick feeling in my stomach begin to radiate out to the rest of my body.
He nodded. “I think they’re here now.”
I heard footsteps approaching from different directions and the outlines of several men appeared in the darkness.
“Good job,” one of the men told the bouncer. “You definitely earned your finder’s fee.”
The bouncer looked at me. “Who says slayers and vampires can’t be friends?”
I glanced at the other two hunters who already had their stakes in hand.
Three hunters. One me.
Those weren’t very good odds at all, were they?
Chapter 11
Right. So here we were again. Cornered by vampire hunters. The story of my life. Did I deserve a stake through my heart for making questionably intelligent choices?
Probably.
Was that what I was looking for every time I wandered outside after dark?
Maybe it was. My actions did seem to speak louder than words.
I’d been staked before. Obviously I’d lived, since it hadn’t hit my heart, but it still hurt like hell and added to my selection of nightmares from my subconscious juke box.
If these losers were going to try to kill me, I sure hoped they had better aim than the last guy.
“She’s so quiet,” one of the other hunters observed. “All reflective and shit. Is she going to fight us or what?”
“Not sure,” the bouncer replie
d. “But if you wouldn’t mind settling up, I’ll leave you to your mayhem.”
“You have been mighty helpful, Bruce.”
The bouncer smiled widely. “And for the right price I’d be happy to be helpful in the future as well.”
My throat was dry. “You’re selling out vamps just to make some pocket change?”
Bruce the bouncer shrugged. “Survival of the fittest. Blood ain’t cheap, you know.”
My hands felt sweaty. “How much did I go for?”
“A thousand.” Bruce looked at the hunter.
A thousand? A measly thousand bucks? If I wasn’t so scared I’d be insulted.
“You know—” my voice shook more than I’d like it to “—I once knew a vampire who sold out other vamps to hunters for money.”
Bruce snorted. “Yeah? And I care about that, because?”
“Because now she’s dead.”
He mock-shivered. “Ooo, scary. Let me guess… you killed her?”
I shook my head. “Hunters don’t exactly make the best business partners.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Oh, yeah?”
Then he gasped.
The hunter next to him had taken the opportunity to sink a stake into his chest. “The lady’s right. Make sure you don’t make the same mistake twice, okay, chum?”
“Damn.” Bruce the bouncer dropped to his knees and looked down at the sharp piece of wood protruding from his heart with wide eyes. He pulled it out a moment before he disintegrated into a dark puddle of goo.
“Are you going to kill me now, too?” My voice sounded oddly emotionless.
The hunter studied me for a moment. “Have to say you’re not making this half as much fun as I thought it would be, given your reputation and all. Are you positive you’re the real Slayer of Slayers?”
“That’s what it says on my business cards.”
He cocked his head to the side. “Why did your eyes turn black all of a sudden?”
“Because that’s what happens when I take off my accessories.” I slid the gold chain I’d removed during the slayage of Bruce the bouncer into my pocket.
Sure, I perhaps had a bit of a death wish now, but I wasn’t a total victim. Desperate times called for desperate measures, after all.