E.V.I.E.: 13 Slayers, 13 Missions

by Lexi C. Foss

  In fact, now that I was there and did not have to fend off an army of fervent Leclair groupies, Damien wasn’t the one I was most concerned about. He had been standing more or less in the open, brooding but accessible, and apparently not acting as bait. And I was willing to talk to him—I just didn’t want Brina to hear it.

  He shrugged. “You seem… paranoid.” A momentary shadow of consternation dropped across his features. His stormy yellow eyes flicked to a point over my shoulder. “Have you been followed?”

  I somehow managed to resist following his line of sight. “I don’t think so, but I’d prefer it if we could find somewhere a little less… exposed to have this conversation.”

  The vampire smirked. I regretted my choice of words instantly. This time when he looked at me, he took his time. His gaze became a tangible force, as real as a touch. “That’s a good idea.” He nodded toward the stairwell leading down to the beach. “A little privacy might be just what we need.”

  I let him lead me down to the wet, pebble-studded sands below the seawall. The tide was all the way out, revealing a vast, barren field of gritty tidepools. Except for a host of crabs and other creatures of the shallows, we were the only two living things on that stretch of the shore. The March wind blew mercilessly, carrying only the tiniest hint of spring.

  Damien walked ahead of me out onto the soggy flats. He took his hood down as he turned to face me. I watched his thick, jet black hair loosen in the breeze. He smiled. “Is this more to your liking?”

  I decided not to answer. This was clearly some kind of weird power struggle to him, a game I didn’t want to play. I held my ground and kept my stance unyielding. “Either show me what you brought, or start talking, Damien.”

  “Straight to the point, I see. All right.” He ran his fingers through his hair, and I flinched at the flicker of warmth that ran through my body as I looked on. This burgeoning interest was a new problem for me, although slayers were consistently warned about the raw charisma vampires possessed. Most of my previous marks had been so gnarled by corruption that they ceased to resemble anything like a human.

  Not Damien. All that set him apart from a college athlete was the ghostly pallor of his skin. And of course, those ethereal feline eyes. It was an unpleasant revelation, how effortlessly he might be able to blend in on a campus, luring lovesick girls back to his apartment. For him, with his clean, classical features, a task like that would be easy.

  “Alex.” His voice snapped me back to the present moment and I realized I had been watching his lips move without hearing a word. “You aren’t paying attention.” Damien’s tone was smooth, cool, and a little bit sharp. He didn’t like to be ignored.

  “My sincerest apologies,” I said dryly. Blood rushed involuntarily toward my cheeks, and I glanced down so he wouldn’t see. “You were saying?”

  Damien paused. “Your heart rate changed,” he said quietly. I didn’t hear him approaching until I glanced up again, directly into his face. There was less than two feet of space separating us. I could have reached out and brushed his chest with my fingertips.

  “So what?” His sudden proximity made me apprehensive. Allowing a vamp so near to my personal space violated every aspect of my training. And to my chagrin, the closer he got, the greater the urge was to touch him. Why was it so hard to pull my eyes away?

  “You told me you weren’t afraid. Maybe you were lying.” Before I could respond, he took my chin in his hand and made me meet his gaze. My breath caught in my throat. It was so freaking unfair for him to look like that!

  “I’m not.” I pulled away from his touch. “Look, if you’re just going to spend this time acting like you’re better than me, I’m leaving. Believe it or not, I have things to do that don’t involve getting bullied by a guy who looks like he’s dual majoring in poetry and independent film.”

  For a second, Damien was stunned into silence. He stared at me, unblinking. I wondered if I had just crossed some invisible line. The next move he made might be at my throat. A shot of adrenaline surged through my veins as I moved mentally into fight mode.

  But instead, the vampire laughed. He took a step back, shaking his head. “You’re something else. Not many strangers could summon the courage to speak to me that way.” He paused. “It’s admirable, I must admit.”

  I pursed my lips. “I don’t think I want to take that compliment.”

  He grinned. “As you wish. I suppose it isn’t all that flattering, coming from me. Your little club seems to think high praise from a vampire amounts to lower than no praise at all.”

  “Really?” I glared at him. “A club? Just because we’re not at HQ doesn’t mean our branch is any less valid. Or successful, if I do say so myself.” Indeed, I had gone back and forth on the ferry from Seattle to Whidbey Island so many times in recent years that eventually the apartment I kept became the easier long-term, solution. “I’d say sorry for that, but, you know…I’m not.”

  Damien shrugged. “I hardly consider it your fault.” He frowned. “We are brazen and violent at our core. We kill because for us, it is required to survive. But as our victims, you can’t be expected to see things our way.”

  “That’s right. And we don’t.” Agreeing with a vamp was definitely not on the list of things I thought I’d be doing that night, but there we were, eighteen inches apart, sharing viewpoints.

  “Which brings me to what I was saying a few minutes ago, while you were so inconsiderately distracted. I want to know when was the last time you killed one of us.”

  “A Leclair?” I lifted my chin. “Never. You would know me already in that case.”

  He stroked his jaw. “True. But the inquiry is general, Alex. We are all brethren of the night. To strike at one is to strike at all of us together.”

  “News to me,” I answered. “As far as I’ve seen, the only thing that endangers vampires more than us is other vampires.” The bloodlust in the mainland city had been rampant for some time, culminating in vicious turf wars between clans. I had spent weeks in the thick of it, so much so that the comparative tranquility of Whidbey Island came as a relief.

  Damien glanced away. “Also true, sometimes,” he admitted grudgingly. “But I sense you’re dodging the question. Answer me honestly, and I promise I won’t hold your actions against you.”

  I laughed. “As if you’d be the first enemy I’ve ever made in the course of doing my job. Please, Damien. It’d be weirder if you didn’t hate me.” My expectation was for him to agree and confirm his contempt toward me and all of my colleagues. Instead, his expression grew solemn.

  “I have never liked a slayer,” he said. “You are fundamentally distasteful to me, for reasons I’m certain you can understand.”

  Shrugging, I agreed. “That’s fair.” We were diametrically opposed by fate and nature. Couldn’t blame the guy for following his instincts.

  “That being said,” he continued, “I’ve never felt a desire to engage with one either. Until now.” His eyes narrowed a bit, turning slightly suspicious. “But I wish you would stop sidestepping my questions.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He took a step forward; I took one back. His eyes flashed. “If you believe I owe you anything just because you’re choosing to be somewhat diplomatic, you are sorely mistaken.” Again, he advanced and I strategically retreated, knowing that if we kept this up, eventually my back would be to the sea wall. A decidedly disadvantaged position.

  “Who was your last victim?” Damien demanded. His tone remained low and even, but there was something dangerous glittering in his eyes.

  I thought back to my last successful hunt, weeks before the Mystery Weekend fiasco. It had taken place during a rare January snowfall on the island, starting with a frozen, exsanguinated corpse half-buried in a drift, and ending with a fight inside an abandoned house overlooking Puget Sound. The house had since been condemned, its doors and windows boarded up. Last I’d seen, there was still blood and ash on the floor.

  “I
never got a name.” That much was true. Many slayers, myself included, didn’t trouble ourselves too much with identifying information if we could ID on sight alone. The creatures we stalked were monsters, not people. It was risky to humanize them, as I was beginning to learn. When I tried to imagine Damien in the full heat of bloodlust, twisted into a grim caricature of the man standing in front of me, what I felt wasn’t exactly repulsion.

  And that worried me.

  Damien scoffed. “I’m not surprised.” He glared. “The only thing a slayer cares for is herself. There is no balance for you, no constant tug between light and darkness. Why would you care, as long as you’re winning?” His hand flashed toward me so fast I barely saw it coming. I felt his fingers clamp down on my arm. He pulled me in close. “Remember what I said, Alex Brighton. We are all brethren in the dark.”

  This time, I refused to give into the urge to pull away. Our faces were inches apart. His skin glowed in the silvery moonlight, offset by the dark locks falling down into his eyes.

  “Then what do you care if I kill one, or if I kill ten?” I asked calmly. “You’ll always have more brothers.”

  At first, Damien frowned. He stared at me searchingly, and I wondered how many people in his life had ever dared to oppose him. The look on his face had the same young indignance as a prince openly disrespected for the first time. His lip curled up, showing the gleaming tip of an eyetooth.

  “Never have I seen such beautiful insolence,” he growled. Then he gripped me by the waist and put his mouth roughly on mine. Shocked, I pressed my hands into his chest, but in the moment, my body wouldn’t let me push him back. The heat from his kiss was so intense that he might as well have been a regular, hot-blooded man. His touch ignited forbidden desires in me that I had never dared to allow to the surface.

  When we finally eased apart, I held his gaze, bewildered. “What the hell was that?”

  Damien sighed. “Consider it my first attempt to tame you.”

  I couldn’t help smirking at that. “Yeah, that’s not happening anytime soon.”

  He traced the edge of my cheek with his fingertips. “Then I’ll try one more time.”

  12

  Damien

  It had not been my intention to kiss Alex Brighton that night. She had a warm, tantalizing taste, and I could feel the beat of her pulse on her lips. Almost from the moment she had arrived, the call of her blood, rushing through the veins beneath her fragile skin, stirred the barely dormant hunger inside of me. My intentions had been simply to talk, to try to get a clearer picture of what went on inside her mind. But my growing hunger translated into aggression and desire, simultaneously.

  By the time I finally drew her against me, it was out of my control. Had I not kissed her maddeningly rosy mouth, I might have killed her then and there. How easy it would have been. How cruel and simple.

  The uncomfortable truth, with which I’d been grappling for days, was that I wanted Alex for more than plain, cold sustenance. She intrigued me in a way no being had managed in a long time—perhaps ever. The fact that she was a human slayer from a world I always viewed smugly from afar was just the icing on the infuriatingly tempting cake. Ordinarily, she would have been out of my reach. That only served to sharpen my determination to have her.

  I kissed her once more, savoring the sensation of her tongue caressing mine, the feeling of her lifeblood beneath my hands. She leaned into me, her fingers curling loosely on the front of my jacket. That hot, deliciously alive taste lingered in my mouth even after she reluctantly stepped away.

  “This isn’t why I came here,” she said. Her tone was cool, but the shadow of a smile flitted over her lips. “You said you had something to show me.” Alex raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who’s lying.”

  I shook my head. “Frankly, I’m wounded by your lack of faith.” The watch was cold as I pulled it from my pocket, the links of its chain catching the moon’s eye. Alex’s deliberately flat expression sharpened as soon as it came into her sight. Either she knew exactly what it was, or she had a very good idea.

  “Where did you get that?” Her voice dropped to a mere shade above a whisper. One hand floated out to touch the surface of the watch case. I let her do so, examining her face closely.

  “It’s not mine,” I told her.

  “Don’t bullshit me, Damien. You were there, weren’t you? At the Mystery Weekend.”

  “I don’t have to answer that,” I said. “You saw me in the alley. And only in the alley.”

  She traced the outline of the fleur de lis. Then her hand dropped down and closed tightly over the watch. I held it in place in my palm. Our fingers locked together. She brought her stormy blue-grey eyes up to meet mine. “You shouldn’t have this. I’m not going to believe some crazy story about how you just happened to pickpocket a freshly dead body in the middle of downtown Langley.” She paused. “You can kiss me, but you can’t fool me, Damien.”

  Every word she said sharpened my desire. She was, as I had said, a force of pure insolence, both rage-inducing and devastatingly erotic to me. I wanted to push her down into the sand and lay my claim. Instead, I stared her down. “I have as much right to this object as you.”

  “Oh, really.” Alex rolled her eyes. Her grip tightened on the watch. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

  “Don’t misunderstand me. I’m not entirely one with my family’s beliefs. But their intentions are selfless, as far as these specific matters are concerned. I suppose I’ve been naively hoping you weren’t too focused on eradicating us to understand.” Her eyes narrowed. She remained silent. I continued. “Think about what would happen to us if all of these artifacts fell into opposing hands. You aren’t the only one who knows what they’re capable of, Alex. How do you think your human ancestors learned of their existence?”

  For a split second, her confidence faltered into subdued shock. She recovered quickly. “The Org’s motivations are the same. That’s why I can’t just let you have it.” Slowly, she tugged the watch toward herself. I resisted.

  “The organization is wrong.” I grimaced. “They would use every scrap of power to destroy us.”

  “Because you slaughter us in the streets!” she snapped. “Look at yourself, Damien. It’s only a matter of time before it happens again. You said it yourself; it’s a necessity. But we don’t need to lie down and sacrifice ourselves.”

  “Kill me, then.”

  She stopped. “What?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Kill me for the artifact. If you succeed, you can keep it, and you can move on to my family with a clear conscience. Isn’t that what you want?” Her countenance became inscrutable as I talked. “The Leclair family is the last standing bastion of vampiric bloodlines on the island. Were we to be dethroned, it would throw the rest of society into chaos, which would help you immensely.”

  “Yes.”

  “So, kill me. Begin to solve your own problems. I won’t simply allow you the execution, but I will fight fair.” Once more, my intentions toward productive discourse had veered into hostile territory. She made me passionate, which in turn made me want to fight. And if she killed me in that fight, she would have earned it.

  Alex was quiet, pondering. I could see the wheels turning in her head. “Are you serious?” she said at last. “We’re out here to fight?”

  “I would have thought you’d jump at the opportunity,” I responded. I did not say that from my perspective. For me, it was one or the other; love or war. And love seemed a rather impossible task.

  “I—” She stopped speaking abruptly. Her head whipped around.

  My paranoia, dulled by our intense and unexpected physicality, surged. We both fell dead silent, listening to the still night. Above the rhythmic crash of distant waves, I detected a new, previously unnoticed sound. Its stark familiarity struck hard.

  Another heartbeat.

  I glanced at her. “Who is that?”

  She balked, shying away from my touch. “I don’t know.” This, I de
termined, was at least half a lie. “I told you I wasn’t followed.”

  “Not to your knowledge.” The notion that I may have foolishly let my guard down enough to be ambushed at a meeting I had called myself was uniquely humiliating. “Call them out.”

  She gave me a look. “Absolutely not. I will not take responsibility for whatever this is.” Her hand stayed steady over top of the watch, even as we watched for signs of an intruder. The scene was strangely intimate, the two of us defensive against a common enemy. Or so I thought.

  Presently, the faint but steady heartbeat strengthened into sounds of movement up above the seawall. The thrumming of the pulse became soft footfalls. If I concentrated, I could even hear breathing. Then a dark shape began to materialize up near the top of the staircase, facing toward us. The silhouette was female, like Alex, but she gave off a younger, less experienced type of energy. The newcomer’s blood pounded like cavalry through her veins. She was prepared to fight.

  Alex drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she whispered.

  I turned on her. “You know. Tell me. Now.”

  She pinched the bridge of her nose, briefly squeezing her eyes shut tight. “I didn’t ask her to be here. I didn’t even tell her a thing.” Anger simmered beneath her words, and I found myself inclined to believe her. And yet, the fortuitous appearance of an uninvited guest seemed too coincidental to dismiss. Up on the stairs, the stranger stopped. She was looking straight down at us.

  A beat passed. She started to run toward the beach.

  “No!” Alex yelled. She threw out her hands, letting go of the watch in the process. I slipped it back into my pocket. The unfolding of this betrayal stung more than I thought was fair, considering that it was practically inevitable. What did I expect from a woman whose very purpose in life was to triumph against me?