Pamela Palmer - [Vamp City 02]

by A Kiss of Blood

  “He’s upstairs.”

  “Thanks.”

  She took the stairs two at a time and found the door partly open, the sign that it was safe to be on the main level. Slipping through, she followed the sound of raised male voices. Kassius’s, if she wasn’t mistaken. And Arturo’s.

  “You must,” Kassius said.

  “Never.”

  As she stepped into the kitchen, Arturo looked up. Kassius turned away, his mouth hard with frustration.

  “Want to fill me in?” she said, her tone letting them know they weren’t being given an option.

  Suddenly, the house began to shake. A shout went up outside. Micah darted in through the back, slamming the door shut. Silence settled like a musty blanket as the world stood still. But Quinn saw no light filtering from beneath the edges of the room-darkening curtains that covered every window.

  “Take a look, cara,” Arturo requested. “Carefully, please.”

  Quinn crossed to the window and pulled back the drape only an inch. The sunbeams visible were faint and distant. “Nothing close.”

  Arturo joined her, pulling the thick drape aside, and together they looked out.

  Neo’s house sat in the middle of thick dead woods, but the sunbeams were easy to spy through them, and she counted no fewer than eleven in the distance.

  “It’s getting worse,” Arturo murmured. If a sunbeam broke through in Neo’s yard, the vampires would be taking their lives in their hands every time they walked outside.

  “What’s the plan, Ax?” Micah asked.

  Quinn turned away from the window.

  Arturo moved to the counter to pour himself a splash of whiskey. “I shall destroy the sword.”

  “How are you going to get it out of the case, let alone out of Gonzaga Castle?”

  Arturo took a sip. “I’ll think of something.”

  “You’re not going alone,” Micah said, at the exact moment Kassius said, “I’m going with you.”

  “You will both stay out of it. Cristoff has killed four of his own, and those are the ones I know of. Stay here. Protect Quinn.”

  His friends’ expressions turned incredulous.

  “Absolutely not.”

  “What if you need glamour?”

  Quinn watched the way Arturo fought to protect his friends and how they refused to send him into the lion’s den alone. She envied him that kind of friendship. But she understood all too well the willingness to sacrifice for those one cared about. And she understood, too, Micah’s and Kassius’s unwillingness to remain behind.

  It wasn’t in her nature to hide any more than it was in theirs. Nor was it in any of their best interests to leave her behind. Because there was no denying that Cristoff was powerful, and it might well take their combined skills to pull this off. Going in one at a time, and dying one at a time, would help no one. They might be vampires, but these three males, these men, were her friends. An extraordinary thought.

  And she didn’t want any of them dying.

  “We’re all going,” she announced, watching three faces swivel toward her with varying levels of scowls.

  “No, Quinn.”

  “Absolutely not, cara.”

  “It’s not safe, Quinn.”

  She met Arturo’s unyielding gaze. “You said I needed to start working with others.”

  “Not this way.”

  “And that I need to open up to friendships. I’ve decided you’re my friends, and I’m not letting you go in alone.”

  “Cara . . .”

  “You need me.”

  “We need you to remain safe.”

  But she wasn’t giving an inch on this. Taking a deep breath, she looked around, spying the fat, flickering candle that sat in the middle of the kitchen table. Concentrating, she called it to her. With a wicked sense of enjoyment, she watched the vampires’ eyes widen with surprise.

  Micah whistled. “Nice job.”

  “Perhaps you’ll need a way to remove the sword from its case without actually touching the case.”

  Arturo glared. “You are not coming with us, Quinn. I forbid it.”

  “Do you?” she asked quietly. Did he still not realize they’d moved past the point where he could easily control her actions? Besides, she had other abilities that might be of use, others she’d practiced extensively while she’d waited alone for him at the safe house. Closing her eyes, she willed a bubble to form around the three vampires and herself.

  At the exclamations of surprise, she opened her eyes and smiled at the black void that now enclosed them, a darkness lit only by the fat candle still cradled in her hands.

  “Quinn . . .” Micah exclaimed, knocking into one of the bubble’s walls, which sent him careening into Kassius.

  “What is this?” Kassius asked, clearly surprised.

  “She can create worlds, as Phineas Blackstone could,” Arturo muttered. “One that vampires apparently cannot leave at will.”

  Kassius pressed against one of the walls, but though his hand sank into its dark surface, he couldn’t move through it. To her surprise, he began to chuckle. “Well done, sorceress.” His expression sobered as he turned to Arturo. “I understand your reluctance to involve her, but she’s right, Ax. She has power. And we’d be fools not to use every advantage we have.”

  Arturo threw his hands in the air. “I do not want any of you going with me.”

  “Looks like you got outvoted, Ax.” Micah grinned. “All for one and one for all?”

  “No!” Arturo’s gaze swung to her, his eyes throbbing with an emotion she couldn’t name. “You know what will happen if Cristoff gets his hands on you, again, Quinn. Must you always sacrifice yourself?” he asked quietly.

  For moments, she stared at him, the air thick and pulsing in the void. “What happens if you fail? If Cristoff catches you, or if you accidentally spring one of his booby traps, you’ll die. And your friends will almost certainly be implicated even if they’re not with you. They’ll die. And then it’s up to me alone. Isn’t it better to combine our strengths right from the beginning and maximize our chance of success than to risk dying one by one?”

  Arturo shook his head, his stance mulish. “I will not fail.”

  “Ax . . .” Kassius eyed his friend calmly. “I think she’s right.”

  “I have to agree, Ax.” Micah glanced at the bubble above his head. “She’s strong and getting stronger. But I’d suggest we take the time to develop a plan. One that uses Quinn’s strengths. One that she can practice ahead of time.”

  Arturo glared at his friends, his frustration palpable. But he was beginning to waver, she could feel it. Finally, he turned to her. “Free them. I wish to speak to you alone.”

  This was coming down to a battle of wills, she could see that. And she was ready for it. Shifting the candle to one hand, she held out her other to Micah. When he took it, she nodded toward the wall. “Go.”

  Giving her a wary look, he reached out his hand and watched it disappear. Stepping forward, he left the bubble, releasing her hand at the last minute. She held out her hand to Kassius and he did the same.

  When they were alone, she turned to Arturo. He stared at her for a long moment, his hard expression slowly melting to one of resignation and misery. He held out his hand to her. “Come here.”

  She gave in, placing her free hand in his, and he pulled her close, careful to avoid the candle as he buried his face in her hair. “I do not want to agree to this.”

  “I know.” She stroked his back as he held her tight.

  “You are coming to mean too much to me.” His words, and the depth of emotion behind them, burrowed into her heart, warming it, filling it.

  “I need to do this, Turo. Not only do I owe that son of a bitch . . .” She pulled back, forcing him to look at her, to meet her gaze. “But this is what I was born to do. You know that as well as I.”

  He tipped his forehead to hers. “You are too strong for your own good, tesoro mio. And a thousand times too stubborn.”

&
nbsp; She smiled. “Better to work with me than to wonder what I’m doing behind your back, right?”

  “Too strong.” He cupped her jaw.

  She stroked his cheek. “You’ve attempted to be my master.”

  “A spectacular failure.”

  She smiled. “You’ve been my protector and my teacher. But the student has learned much and is becoming strong. And while I still have a lot to learn, it’s time we worked together, Vampire. It’s time we became a team. Partners.”

  He sighed. She’d won, and they both knew it.

  “You will be the death of me.”

  “I’m counting on being your ace in the hole.”

  He stroked her cheek, then gripped her jaw, his eyes as soft as they were intense. “Not partners. Teammates. And I am the leader of the team. I call the shots. You do not know that castle or its dangers. And I do.”

  “I can live with that as long as you don’t try to protect me.”

  His jaw tightened. “No heroics, Quinn. I mean it.”

  She tugged on his hand, not quite ready to promise him anything more. “Come on, Vampire. Let’s go. We’ve got work to do.”

  He followed her out of the bubble and back into the kitchen, where she placed the candle back on the table as Kassius and Micah watched, and waited.

  Arturo started issuing orders. “Feed if you need to, then get ready to ride in an hour. We’ll be returning to the safe house to hammer out a primary plan and at least two backups. Quinn will need adequate food to take with us. She’ll be expending energy and power and will become quickly depleted. Micah is right, we must be fully prepared this time.”

  “All four of us?” Kassius asked.

  Arturo nodded, his mouth twisting ruefully. “All four of us.”

  Kassius nodded. Micah gave her a small smile.

  An answering smile lifted Quinn’s mouth, then quickly fell away. Yes, she’d succeeded in getting herself included in this critical mission. A mission that required her to return to Gonzaga Castle and put herself once more within reach of a vampire who, if he caught her, would hurt her beyond imagining. A monster even the vampires feared.

  She had power, now, at least. Abilities that she lacked before.

  But whether or not they’d prove adequate against such evil was anyone’s guess.

  Want to know how it all began?

  A world of perpetual twilight,

  a vampire utopia threatened with devastation . . .

  Keep reading for a peek into Pamela Palmer’s

  first Vamp City novel

  A Blood Seduction

  Available now!

  Chapter One

  Perched on her stool in the chilly lab of the Clinical Center of the National Institutes of Health in Bethesda, Maryland, Quinn Lennox studied the lab results on the desk in front of her. Dammit. Just like all the others, this one revealed nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing. She’d run every blood test known to science, and they all claimed that the patient was disgustingly healthy. Utterly normal.

  They lied.

  The patient wasn’t normal and never had been, and she wanted to know why. She wanted to be able to point to some crazy number on one of the myriad blood tests, and say, “There. That’s it. That’s the reason my life is so screwed up.”

  Because those lab tests were hers.

  “Quinn.”

  At the sound of her boss’s voice in the lab doorway, Quinn jumped guiltily. If anyone found out that she’d been using the lab’s equipment to run blood tests on herself, she’d be fired on the spot. She set the lab report on her desk, resisting the urge to turn the paper over or slip it in her desk, and forced herself to meet Jennifer’s gaze with a questioning one of her own.

  “Did you have time to run the McCluny tests?” Jennifer was a round woman, over forty, with a big heart and a driving need to save the world.

  “Of course,” Quinn replied with a smile. “They’re on your desk.” She might be running tests she shouldn’t be, but never, ever at the expense of someone else’s.

  “Excellent.” Jennifer grinned. “I wish I could clone you, Quinn.”

  Quinn stifled a groan at the thought. “One of me is more than enough.” Certainly more than she could handle.

  “Hey, you two.” Clarice, in a T-shirt and shorts, a fleece hoodie tied around her waist, stopped in the doorway beside Jennifer. It was after 6:00 P.M., and most of the techs had already left for the day. Clarice was clearly on her way out since she’d taken off her white lab coat. But she should be, considering she was getting married in two days. A curvy redhead, Clarice had been one of Quinn’s best friends in her first couple of years at the NIH. Before everything had started to go wonky, and Quinn had been forced to retreat from virtually all social events.

  Clarice clapped her hands together, the excitement radiating from her so palpable that Quinn could feel it halfway across the lab. The woman practically had the words bride-to-be dancing in fizzy champagne bubbles over her head. “Are you two going to meet us at my apartment tomorrow night or down in Georgetown? Larry and two of his groomsmen are available to drive anyone who needs a ride home afterward.”

  The bachelorette party. Bar-hopping in Georgetown. Quinn nearly swallowed her tongue, forcing down the quick denial. No, she would not be going. Absolutely not. “It’s easier for me to meet you there,” Quinn replied. No excuse was good enough short of sudden illness. And it was too soon for that.

  “I’ll meet you at your apartment.” Jennifer patted the younger woman on the shoulder. “You look radiant and happy, Clarice. Exactly how a bride-to-be should look. Not a bit the stressed-out crazy person so many brides turn into these days.”

  “Oh, I’m a crazy person, don’t worry. I’m just happy-crazy.”

  “Stay that way. See you ladies tomorrow,” Jennifer said with a wave, and disappeared down the hall.

  Clarice came into the lab, now empty but for Quinn, and perched on the lab stool beside Quinn’s. “I have a million things to do. Two million.”

  Quinn gave her a half-sympathetic, half-disbelieving look. “Then what are you doing here?”

  “Procrastinating. The moment I walk out the door, I’ll be moving a hundred miles an hour until I go to bed. If I ever get there tonight.”

  Quinn grabbed Clarice’s hand. “I’m happy for you.”

  “Thanks.” Clarice squeezed hers back. “I’m so glad you’re going out with us tomorrow night, Quinn.”

  “Me, too,” Quinn replied weakly, hating that she wouldn’t be going. It had been so long since she’d enjoyed a night out, and this one promised to be a lot of fun. And she hated to disappoint Clarice. But she didn’t dare go. Not to Georgetown. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

  Clarice slipped her hand from Quinn’s and hopped off the lab stool. “Enough procrastinating. I’ve got to get going.”

  “Get some sleep tonight.”

  Clarice rolled her eyes. “I’ll sleep on the honeymoon.”

  “Larry might have other ideas.”

  With a laugh, Clarice disappeared around the corner.

  Quinn turned back to her desk, folded the lab report, and stuck it in her purse, then pulled off her lab coat and glanced down at her clothes, her stomach knotting with tension. On the surface, she was dressed normally for the lab—jeans (purple), T-shirt (red), and tennis shoes (bright blue). The problem was, when she’d dressed this morning, the jeans had been blue, the tee yellow, the shoes white. The Shimmer had struck on her way to work this morning, as it did almost every day now. Why? Why did these things keep happening to her and no one else?

  Heading out of the building, she began the long trek across the NIH campus to her car, not looking forward to the long slog through D.C. traffic to get home. Traveling to and from work on the Metro had been so much easier. But public transportation of any kind was out of the question now. What if they passed through a Shimmer? How in the hell would she explain such a color transformation to her fellow passengers?

  By the time she reached
her car, a ten-year-old Ford Taurus, she was sweating in the late August heat. Opening the car door, she stared at the pink interior, which was supposed to be slate gray, the knot in her stomach growing. With a resigned huff, she slid into the hot car and headed back into Washington, D.C., and home.

  Her life had always been a little odd. Now it was starting to come unhinged.

  Strange things had happened as far back as she could remember, though rarely. Only twice had they been scary-strange rather than silly-strange, like the color changes. And nothing had happened at all after that second bad incident, in high school. Not until a couple of years ago, when the Shimmers had begun playing with her.

  A couple of weeks ago, the visions started.

  Yes, her life was becoming seriously unhinged.

  As she neared the Naval Observatory on Massachusetts Ave., she saw one of the Shimmers up ahead, like a faint sheen in the sunlight, almost like the rainbow that sometimes appeared in water mist. They were always in the same spots, never moving, never wavering—nearly invisible walls in various parts of D.C. that she’d always been able to see, always been able to drive or walk through without incident. Until recently. Now she avoided them like the plague, when she could. But there wasn’t a single route to work that didn’t pass through one.

  Unfortunately, one cut right through the heart of Georgetown, which was why she couldn’t possibly meet Clarice, Jennifer, and the others tomorrow. How drunk would they have to be to not notice her clothes changing color right before their eyes? Too drunk. It was far too great a risk.

  As she drove through the Shimmer, the hair rose on her arms, as it always did, her car interior returning to gray, and her clothes and shoes returning to normal.

  In some ways, she’d gotten used to the strangeness, but in a bigger way, she was scared. Because the changes were escalating in frequency, and she had a bad feeling that it was just the beginning.

  She couldn’t help but wonder . . .

  What comes next?

  Quinn unlocked the door of her apartment on the edge of the George Washington University campus and pushed it open. The warm smell of pepperoni pizza and the comforting sound of a computer gun battle greeted her.