by Fatima Fayez
One truth about vampires: they’re all gorgeous. No matter how unattractive they’d been as humans, they became stunning once turned. Numerous supernatural scientists had tried to study the phenomena but always turned up empty.
Sebastian’s beauty was part of what had drawn me to him. He’d taken my breath away daily. No matter what he did that annoyed me, one look at his face and all thought of his transgressions would disappear. That's how I learned that beauty was power. And it was a strength that the vampires wielded very well. Sebastian was a master at manipulating people into doing what he wanted. Some believed vampires could gain power over you by catching your eyesight, but I knew the truth. No, vampires caught you when you looked upon their faces and started worshipping them for their beauty.
Being around all that exquisiteness again gave me a rush. It was like seeing works of art in motion. I knew I needed a drink, but I didn't know if it was to clear my head or to dull the emotions that had come rushing back.
I waited at the bar as the bartender talked to a couple a few seats down from me. The woman was facing me, and I had a view of her impeccable bone structure. She had wavy brown hair and a petite but curvy frame. She reminded me of a miniature Jessica Rabbit. The man she was with towered over her. He had his back to me, so I couldn't see his face. He was about my height, with dark hair and a lean build. He placed his hand on her arm, and she shrugged it off with a pout.
The bartender approached me. "One A-positive and one rum and Coke," I told her.
While I waited for my drinks, I watched the beautiful woman sip hers as the man seemed to placate her. The blood in the glass was dark and stained her lips. Although I couldn't see his face, I wondered how handsome her companion was. I was sure they made a striking couple. Vampire couples were dazzling. The effect of two of them together always left me awestruck.
As if sensing my gaze, the man turned around.
I was half-right. He was stunning, but he wasn't a vampire.
It was Rafael.
Chapter Seventeen
Rafael's first reaction was shock, but his face quickly adopted a "this isn't what it looks like" expression. He opened his mouth, but the bartender returned at that moment with my drinks.
"Thank you," I told her, reaching for the glasses. I turned to walk away and noticed that Rafael's gaze was hitched on the two drinks in my hands. He looked back up to me and opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment the vampire he was with placed a hand on his shoulder, and he turned around.
I used the distraction as my opportunity to escape and return to Helen.
She thanked me as she took her glass. We moved to a small empty table and sat down. I took a sip. "How's your drink?"
"It's good." The vampire downed half her glass of A-positive. She smiled at me, and I saw the blood had stained her teeth. I made a gesture with my finger, and she ran her tongue over her teeth, licking them clean.
"This is a nice place." I forced myself to make small talk as I tried to tamp down the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface. I was angry, confused, and a bit miserable. The combination was from seeing my ex's friends and my recent lover at the same place at the same time. It bothered me more than I would have expected to see Rafael with that gorgeous woman. I kept repeating in my head that we’d had one night of fun and that was it. We weren't even dating. Unfortunately, my traitorous mind couldn't stop thinking of how his body felt pressed against mine. I could feel a flush crossing my face.
"We're giving this an hour and then we're leaving," I told Helen.
"So soon?" She raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, I don't think he'll show up late." All the important and most impressive vampires appeared to be here. Ibrahim had chosen the time he knew the place would be most active. My target would only show up if he wanted to be seen.
"Okay." Helen took another sip of her drink. "Do you want to meet some people?"
"No, thank you." I wasn't looking for distractions.
She didn't seem upset that I was being antisocial. She continued to sit with me and kept a running commentary even when I didn’t respond. As hard as I tried, I couldn't seem to keep my gaze from traveling to Rafael and the stunning woman he was with. I took a small measure of pride in that he never managed to catch me looking at him. My emotions were careening all over the place.
Helen distracted me from my musings. "It's been an hour."
"Let's head out." I got to my feet. It had been a long sixty minutes.
As we made our way to the door, she shared, "I asked if he would show up. His friends said no."
I stopped in my tracks. "You did what?"
"I didn't want you to waste your time or miss him."
“When did you do that?”
“When I got the last round of drinks. I didn’t say anything in case they were wrong.”
I shook my head. I should have let her know not to ask people about him. It was my mistake for not clarifying that to her. "Please don't ask other people about where he is. I'd prefer if he didn't know that I'm looking for him."
Helen shrugged. "Alright, I won't." She sighed and looked back into the club. I knew she wanted to go back inside, but she was too polite to simply abandon me. "It was nice to meet you. Thanks for the drink.”
"Thank you for the company," I replied.
Helen walked away. I reached my left hand behind my back for the familiar feel of my dagger. I pulled it out and tapped it against my thigh as I walked back to my car.
Something shoved me forward, and I stumbled to the ground. My right hand moved to break my fall, and I winced as I felt something in my wrist twist painfully. I got to my feet as quickly as possible and turned around to face down the person who had shoved me.
"You have some nerve showing your face here after what you did to Sebastian." It was Ethan, Sebastian's friend. I had never been fond of my ex's friends, but Ethan was my least favorite of them all. He was an entitled braggart that believed vampires should rule over humans.
I reached for my magic. I considered using a healing spell to reduce the pain in my wrist and decided against it. It felt good to feel pain. I needed more of it. "What did I do?"
I was spoiling for a fight. I wanted to hear him say it.
He snarled. "You destroyed him. You took his life away. We never approved of him dating you. He could have done much better than a half-witch. He deserved better."
"He deserved better?" I couldn't help but laugh out loud. "He lied to me and cheated." I heard the hurt in my voice, despite believing that I had come to terms with the asshole's death. Our intimate relationship, no matter how awful, had left its mark on me. I hated feeling this way. I needed to distract myself with physical pain. “He was arrogant.” I moved my wrist in a circle, relishing the pinpricks of pain.
“He had a right to be.”
I rolled my eyes at Ethan’s devotion to his false friend. “He was underhanded and pompous. He wasn’t loyal to his friends.” I wouldn’t repeat what Sebastian had called Ethan behind his back. I didn’t believe in breaking confidences, even after a fallout or death.
“He was loyal to me.” Ethan rushed at me. To humans he would have appeared as a blur hurtling toward me, but I wasn't a human. I was a half-witch, true, but I was blessed with speed and strength also.
I ducked out of the way and spun my blade, slashing at him as he passed. He pivoted, jumping beyond my reach. That didn't deter me. I quickly closed the short distance between us and aimed the dagger at his heart.
He caught my hand with his, and I winced. His grip was strong, and the pressure was only increasing. I blinked back tears as I kicked at him with my right leg. Thankfully I caught his kneecap, and he loosened his grip on me. Coughing, I jumped away. He bared his fangs at me and let out an unearthly sound. I narrowed my eyes.
I wanted to injure him, not kill him. He had crushed my hurt wrist harder than I’d expected. The pain made me feel alive.
We ran at each other. I slashed the air with my dagger,
my aim missing him as he danced away from the sharp blade. I finally made contact with his upper-right arm and he hissed, his fangs now extended. He ran at me again and headbutted me. Stunned, I fell backwards. My head rang. I blinked, but before I could recover, Ethan had punched my face. My head bounced against the wall.
Ethan had no compunctions about hitting a female, that was clear. He punched me twice more before grabbing my hair and hissing in my ear, "Know that I could have ended you right here, right now, but I chose not to because he wouldn't have approved."
He had no idea I was holding back. The pain felt good to me. I opened my mouth and he waited for my answer. “You’re a coward, just like he was,” I hissed.
He raised his hand and slapped me. I let myself crumple to the ground. Still I resisted the lure of healing spells, embracing the agony. I knew the limits of pain my body could take. My mother had made sure of that. This was nothing.
My vision went dark. I heard him wipe his face, and with a sneer in his voice, he said, "I better not see you around here again, or you'll get worse than this."
I lay against the wall, limp as a rag, as the vampire walked away.
Chapter Eighteen
My face began to throb as I slipped in and out of a hazy consciousness. Everything hurt, but not enough. I needed more.
The voice in my head chastised me for not using the full arsenal of weapons at my disposal. I had kept to my dagger only and avoided the use of magic. I hadn't even used my basic training. I argued with the voice. I wanted to get beaten. I was hurting inside and wanted the outside to match. Why didn’t it know that?
A sound made my head snap up, and I winced at the jarring pain that followed the sudden movement.
Someone stepped out of the shadows. My fingers tightened around the hilt of my dagger. He was a tall man, and powerfully built. He took a few more steps forward and I saw that he had strong features and dark hair. A strand of hair fell across his forehead which reminded me of Clark Kent's famous coiffure. His narrowed eyes were golden caramel.
He raised his face as if sniffing the air. A shifter. It was always this little mannerism that gave them away. I wondered idly if they were even aware of it.
I had thought the vampires inside the Immortal Blood were beautiful creatures, but this shifter put them to shame. His features were not classically handsome, but even with my eyes starting to swell shut I could see that he was absolutely magnetic. I lowered my eyes. A part of me realized I was exhibiting typical prey behavior. The prey did not maintain eye contact with the predator. And this man radiated the power and strength of a predator.
I raised my gaze in defiance and considered my options as I studied him. It was too late to use a healing spell. It would drain me of what energy I had and wouldn’t give me enough power to take him on. I had to gather my wits. My fingers met my blades, and I held them for reassurance.
I had been careless, but hoped it didn’t mean I would die for it tonight.
He took in my appearance. I was sitting against the wall with one leg outstretched and a bent knee. I wondered what my face looked like, but I knew it wasn't pretty. A flicker of something crossed his face. I could have sworn it was anger. What did I do to merit the anger of a shifter I'd never seen before?
"You're the Slayer." He spoke with an authority that dared me to contradict him.
I tensed. There was no way he could have known that. My thumb stroked the dagger's sharp edge. I studied him for magic dispellers but couldn't see any telltale chains, bracelets, or rings. Not that my studying could have helped the situation, since I was in no condition to put up another fight. But how did he know who I was? There was no way anyone in the vampire lounge had known my true identity. They only knew me as Sebastian's half-witch ex-girlfriend. No, this shifter had to have received this information from the Enforcer, and I still didn't know how he knew. I narrowed my eyes. His knowledge of my identity still didn't explain how this shifter had known where I would be tonight.
My expression must have given me away, or he was a mind-reader, because he said, "We have a mutual acquaintance."
There were only two people who would tell this shifter where I was tonight — Mateu or Ibrahim. Of the two, I had my money on the vampire. I wondered how long Ibrahim had known I was the Supernatural Shadow and why he’d chosen to reveal it in this manner. But that answered how Enrique knew who I was, and how he’d found out.
"Who are you?" I asked the shifter.
He ignored my question. "I have a request."
It was funny how much the word "request" sounded like "order." I was surprised that I still lay on the ground with my leg outstretched instead of jumping to my feet and saluting him. His aura demanded immediate obedience. The stubborn side of me wanted to show him the complete opposite. I leaned back against the wall with a slouch, even as my fingers tightened around my dagger's hilt. "What is it?"
"Stop killing my shifters," he said in a low voice with a pause between the words, but I still flinched at the fury that those four words contained.
With a sinking feeling, I realized who this shifter was. Diego. Leader of all the shifters and the most powerful supernatural in Barcelona and surrounding areas.
Fire and brimstone.
My throat went dry. I licked my lips and somehow still managed a nonchalant response. "Why?"
"Why?" He blinked. His strong eyebrows knit together, showing his confusion more than the anger that was present only moments ago. It was almost as if he couldn't comprehend someone questioning him, as if no one had ever done it before. "Because I told you to stop."
I wondered what he was capable of when pushed, and what it would take to provoke him. I was pretty sure I knew, but a part of me wanted to test it anyway.
"I'm just doing my job." I lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. "If you did yours, then your shifters wouldn't make it on the boards."
A strange sound emerged from his throat. It resonated within me, terrifying the primal part of my brain that recognized itself as prey. He took a step forward, and I flinched. I wasn't ready for a fight. I was stupid to antagonize Diego, of all shifters. But this time I wouldn't let a supernatural just use me as a punching bag. I would use magic.
Diego stopped moving when I flinched. He made a turn, pacing back and forth. I watched him do it four times, and then he stopped and glared at me. "I've indulged your killings four times. There won't be a fifth."
I started. That was the exact number of shifters I had killed in Barcelona. He had known this whole time.
"Enrique says you two have a challenge set a month from now." His lips thinned into an angry line. It almost seemed like he wasn't happy with his Enforcer fighting me. "Give me your word that you won't kill any more shifters and I'll have him withdraw the challenge."
The offer was enticing, especially with my sore body and the spreading pain. But it wasn't a promise that I was sure I could keep, and I never gave my word unless I was sure I could keep it. In any case, I didn't want to take the offer because I still wanted to know how I measured up against Diego's Enforcer. It was an opportunity I just couldn't turn down. "I can't promise you that."
"He warned me that you were stubborn," he muttered under his breath. He probably thought I couldn't hear him. The "he" that Diego referred to could only be Ibrahim, and I wondered what else the vampire had said about me. Diego tucked his hands in his pockets and spoke at a normal volume again. "What will it take for you to stop attacking my shifters?"
"I'm not attacking your shifters."
Diego waited.
"I'm not." I scowled at him. "It's not like I'm going out of my way to kill them. I was doing my job."
He stopped pacing and turned his head toward me. "You're choosing to take on shifter bounties or assassinations. That's not you doing a job. That's you intentionally targeting my people. Do you know what I call someone that intentionally targets my people?"
I shook my head.
"An enemy." He spat out the word like a bad taste in his mo
uth. Diego began pacing back and forth again. He glared at me. "You don't want to be my enemy. I destroy my enemies."
"Am I supposed to be scared?" I didn't know how my voice came out so steady when I felt so woozy. I could hear my heart hammering in my ears. Or that might just be my head throbbing. I couldn't decide which.
He stopped in front of me and frowned. He put his hands on his hips. "You should be. If you're not, you're an idiot. Are you an idiot?"
With the pose he’d struck, I couldn't help but to complete the superhero picture and imagine a cape fluttering behind him. I laid my head back against the wall. My brain seemed to rattle in my skull at the movement. The brick felt cool on my scalp. "Are you done?"
"No. I need your word that you won't go after more shifters."
"I told you I can't promise you that. Whether I'm working or walking around, if a shifter attacks me I'm going to fight back to the best of my abilities. Sometimes that means the shifter winds up dead." I winced and shut my eyes. My head was pounding harder after that long talk.
When I opened my eyes again, he was staring at me, his gaze calculating. "Will you refrain from taking on jobs that involve shifters?"
"No." He was the leader of the shifters, but he wasn't the boss of me. I know it sounded childish, but my head was beginning to really hurt now. I tried to focus on his face, but he kept moving. He had three frowns on his face. I'd never seen that on a shifter before. Perhaps he was trying to intimidate me. Or perhaps it was the concussion I almost certainly had.
"Fine. You'll be dead in a month's time." His eyes took in my beaten face. "If not sooner."
My body decided that would be a good time to pass out.
Chapter Nineteen
I blinked, and the world slowly swam into view. I turned my head and flinched at the throbbing pain that the small movement had caused. Hallway. I was in a hallway with my back against the wall. It took me a while to realize it was my apartment building's hallway. Raising my head and gritting my teeth against the pain, I looked at the number on the door.