“The Domokos siblings—the blonds from last night. They’re the reason all those girls are disappearing, the reason that girl was bitten.”
“Cass? Do they know her?”
“No, but now they know you. And you’re interfering in their games, Helena,” he said. “Lady Natasha doesn’t take kindly to that.”
“Lady Natasha can kiss my ass.” She paused. “Who’s Lady Natasha?”
He smiled briefly. “Natasha fancies herself the queen of the vampires.”
Helena rolled her eyes. “Lame.”
“Perhaps. But she enjoys her little harvests.”
She paused for a heartbeat, feeling sick. “Harvest? As in …”
He nodded. “As in she likes to feed on them, yes.”
“How do we stop her?”
“You don’t.”
She gathered her wet clothes, the staff. “I do too.”
“Helena, this is my problem. I’ll deal with it.”
“Because I’m a girl?” She threw a wet sock at his head.
“No,” he replied softly. “Because it’s my fault.”
The moment shattered when they left the dojo. She stepped out into the alley and was once again a hungry street girl with damp hair and a suspicious nature. He was a vampire, cloaked in mystery and solitude, and as moody as a fourteen-year-old girl with PMS.
But she couldn’t forget the glimpses she’d seen.
She shoved her hands in her pockets. It was later than she’d thought. “I guess I’ll see you around.”
His profile was chiseled, flawless. It kind of made her want to mess him up. “I’m not leaving your side,” he said quietly.
She frowned. “What?”
“I have to keep you safe.”
“This again.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. Go away.”
“You’re sixteen.”
She went cold. He thought of her as a little girl. She’d imagined everything in the dojo. He’d been acting as a vampire, not as a man. It shouldn’t matter.
It mattered.
“Liam,” she said as calmly as she could. “I’m not your responsibility.”
He put a hand on her arm, stopping just outside the glow of a streetlight. His expression was stark as he drew her behind the concealing bulk of a parked van. “Do you know why my family is so reclusive?”
She shook her head mutely. When wild animals ventured out of the forest you didn’t speak to them, you didn’t move. You just waited.
“Because five hundred years ago a woman spoke a riddle and named a Drake daughter not even born yet as the next vampire queen.”
“Is that even possible? Having a child? Aren’t you undead?”
“It’s possible in our family.”
If there was one thing Helena knew about, it was girl fights. “Let me guess, this Natasha chick isn’t too happy about that.”
“Not happy and slightly insane.”
“I know a lot of girls like that.” She offered him a small smile. “Maybe you shouldn’t hide,” she said. “You should fight. You have friends.” She was startled to realize she’d fight with him if he asked her. When exactly had she lost her mind?
“I thought so too, once,” he said.
“What happened?”
“I fell for a girl.”
Helena decided she wasn’t the least bit jealous. Really. “So?”
“So Lady Natasha killed her.” He glanced up to make sure they weren’t being watched. The shadows were busy lately. “Do you know why Cass was bitten?” Helena shook her head. “Because I talked to her grandmother once. Her pregnancy probably saved her.”
“That was like fifty years ago.” She paused. “How old are you anyway?”
“Old enough.”
“You look twenty-six, twenty-seven, max.” And that was because of the eyes, not because of any lines on his face. He would have looked younger without all the sorrow and guilt.
“I’m not. My brother and I have seen a lot of innocent girls destroyed by Lady Natasha. The last girl who disappeared? She ran out in front of my car when she was drunk. I took her to the hospital. She was gone the next night.”
She stared, horrified. “So Lady Natasha is targeting us on purpose. Killing street girls because there’s no one to protect them.”
He didn’t smile but his eyes crinkled with dry amusement. “Until you.”
“That’s why you took off after I fell in the river and drew a crowd,” she realized slowly. “And why you wouldn’t talk to me anymore, even after we killed that Hel-Blar vampire.”
“Now, you understand.” He touched her arm, a quick moth-soft touch. “So, please. Please let me stay and make sure you’re safe.”
He followed her to the club, staying in the shadows where no one would see him. She had to force herself not to look over her shoulder. It felt strange to know there were friendly eyes in the dark. The bouncer at the side door of the club nodded at her when she skirted the lineup.
“You’re late. Grady’s mad.”
“Grady’s always mad.” Helena pushed past him into the smoky darkness of The Vortex. She felt Liam behind her but he didn’t say a word, just broke away and lost himself in the crowd and strobe lights. Helena went down the hall to the cramped changing room with the tiny attached washroom. Sofia lounged on the only chair, Portia leaned against the wall eating Pixy Stix, and Billie crouched in the corner whittling stakes.
“Nice of you to finally show up,” Sofia drawled. “Give the girl one win and she thinks she’s a rock star.”
“Oh, shut up,” Helena muttered. “I’ve got fifteen minutes until the fight.”
“And that’s what you’re wearing?” Sofia asked dubiously.
Helena glanced down. She’d forgotten she was wearing the clothes she’d taken from the dojo. Hers were in a sodden mess in her backpack. “Shit.”
Sofia sighed theatrically. “I’ve got something you can wear.”
“Hell no. I’m not wearing a tutu.”
Portia wiped sugar off her shirt. “You can wear this tank top,” she offered, pulling it off from under her fishnet top. She contorted impressively. Grady would have put her in the ring on the spot if he’d seen her.
“Thanks.” Helena caught the black top and switched her T-shirt out. Her baggy black pants were hardly inspiring. She didn’t really care. She couldn’t stop thinking of Liam’s mouth so near to hers. Focus, Helena.
“Trade me these pants for your skirt?” she asked Billie. “Just for the fight.” Her denim miniskirt was shorter than anything Helena would ordinarily have worn but at least she could move freely in it.
“Still needs something,” Portia said.
“Are you going to help?” Billie kicked Sofia’s swinging foot.
Sofia snapped her gum loudly. “I already offered a tutu.”
“Never mind, I have an idea.” Portia reached for the can of spray paint she always carried in her knapsack. Half the art on the alley walls was hers. She shook the can with a grin. “To the lost girls.”
Helena closed her eyes so she wouldn’t get paint splattered into them. The chemical scent floated in the cramped space. Sofia coughed. Portia chewed on her lip, the way she always did when she drew. It didn’t take her long. “There.”
Billie chuckled. “Awesome.”
Helena looked down. Portia had spray painted, in pink no less, a circle with a stylized face, elongated fangs, and a slash across it.
NO VAMPIRES ALLOWED.
For the first time, the thought made Helena uncomfortable. She wondered what Liam would think when he saw it. Never mind that he wore elegant suits and she wore spray paint; he’d saved her life.
“You don’t like it.” Portia sounded disappointed.
“Of course I do,” Helena rushed to assure her. “I need some makeup, don’t you think?” She hurried into the bathroom where she could be alone to wonder why she was suddenly concerned about delicate vampire sensibilities. The whole thing was ridiculous.
“Get y
our head in the game,” she snapped at herself. She grabbed one of the black eyeliners in the plastic cup on the back of the sink. She was lining her eyes like an Egyptian queen when she saw it.
Iphigenia’s favorite striped scarf.
Stuck to the wall on the tip of a knife.
She turned slowly, her stomach dropping. There was a piece of paper stuck between the blade and the scarf. It was a charcoal sketch of Helena. Calligraphy curved around the edges:
Your presence is required by Lady Natasha in Crofter’s Woods.
She stumbled out of the bathroom. Sofia and Portia were bickering as usual. Their voices sounded thin, distant. The floor shook from the crowds shouting and stomping their feet in the Thunderdome. Billie frowned at her. It took a moment to realize the other girl had spoken to her. “Helena, what’s wrong?”
Reality slammed into her like a wave breaking over the shore. She fought the undertow, lifted her chin. “Iphi’s missing.”
Sofia waved that away. “She’s probably in one of her hiding spots.”
Helena shook her head, lifting the scarf. “It’s got blood on it.” Silence fell like an icicle, cold and deadly. She flung the paper out at them. It floated like delicate pollen, before landing faceup on the dirty glitter-strewn floor. “Let’s go.”
They darted down the hall. Grady stopped them before they reached the back door, motioning to Angelo, one of the bouncers. He was built like a bull and took his job very seriously.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Grady asked silkily. The blue eye shadow he wore didn’t make him look any less threatening.
“We have to go,” Helena said. “Iphi’s in trouble.”
“You owe me a fight.”
“Later.” She shoved past him. He caught her by the hair even as Angelo pushed her down the step, away from the door. Helena hissed.
“You can go after the fight,” Grady said. “Not before.”
Portia and Billie bristled. Sofia was the only one who didn’t look particularly concerned, but Helena read the tension in her brittle hair flip.
“Grady,” she purred. “Can’t you cut us a break? This is important.”
“No.”
She ran a hand up his arm, the one still clutching Helena’s hair. “What if I fight for you?”
“You’re not on tonight’s list, sweetheart.”
“I’ll fight for free,” she offered. “Just tonight.”
He considered it. Sofia pouted invitingly. Helena reached for the pocket knife she knew was in Billie’s skirt pocket. She always had a knife.
“Deal,” Grady finally said. “Because I’m feeling generous.” Helena snorted. He pulled savagely on her hair. “What was that, sweetheart?”
Sofia glared at her warningly. For Iphigenia, Helena didn’t punch him in the crotch. “Nothing.”
“That’s what I thought.” He waited another heartbeat before releasing her. He nodded to Angelo. Helena, Portia, and Billie were through the door before it was even halfway open.
She could have called for Liam. God knew they could use the backup. But Lady Natasha hated him, was targeting him. She wouldn’t add to his troubles. And the lost girls were her responsibility anyway, not his.
She had enough blood on her hands.
Something was wrong.
Liam felt it, smelled it in the thick club air. He searched the crowd for a threat. He was about to head to the back to find Helena when Grady stepped out to the microphone hanging from the ceiling. A girl in a sequined bikini pranced behind him, smiling the smile of a thousand toothpaste ads.
“Ladies and gents,” Grady boomed. “Welcome to the Thunderdome!”
The audience reacted so loudly Liam wondered if there was blood in his ears. Sensitive hearing wasn’t always an asset. He kept his gaze moving quickly, checking the entrances. He still felt it, some secret pull of danger.
“Tonight for your entertainment we have the feral and very fine Finnegan, battling the delectable and sexy Sofia!”
Liam had to fight to keep his fangs retracted.
Helena was gone.
Portia hotwired a car parked on the edge of the Warren. It took them half an hour, at top speed, to race to the edge of the forest that led to Crofter’s Woods. They left the car under a canopy of branches and went on foot the rest of the way. Billie handed out stakes. Portia bit her nails. Helena wanted to scream.
As the path narrowed to a trail, a branch cracked. Helena whirled just as a shadow broke away from the trees. She threw a stake before she fully registered who she was throwing it at. A girl squeaked as a second shadow knocked her to the ground. The stake slammed into an elm tree. Cass pushed Bruno’s long hair off her face. “Ow.”
“Easy, killer,” Bruno said to Helena, helping Cass to her feet.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Helena demanded as they stood. “I nearly staked you!”
“We saw you heading out of town,” Cass replied. Blood spotted the bandage on her throat. “And we heard another girl went missing.”
“So?” Helena asked.
“So, I’m not an idiot …,” Cass pointed out. “You’re about to do something stupid. No one heads into the mountains at this time of night without a monumentally stupid plan.”
Bruno grinned, flipping his pocket knife between his fingers. “And we want in.”
“No way,” Helena said automatically, even though they could probably use Bruno. “You can’t ‘om’ your way through this, Cass. What are you two doing out this late anyway?”
Cass blushed. “Don’t change the subject.” She crossed her arms, crystal necklaces catching the very faint moonlight. “I’m coming with you. Or you can leave me behind and I’ll follow alone. By myself. All vulnerable and shit.”
“Nice threat.” Helena looked impressed despite herself.
“Thank you. Now what’s the plan?”
“Iphigenia’s down there somewhere,” Helena explained darkly. “We get her out. If Lady Natasha’s around, I get to shove a stake in her chest.” For Iphi. For all the missing girls. For Liam. “They’re waiting for us in Crofter’s Woods.”
“I know that place,” Bruno said, all teasing gone from his voice. His accent was suddenly so thick Helena had to concentrate to understand him. “They’ll have guards posted. I have a better spot.”
They followed him around the bend to a rocky ledge. They crawled on their bellies to the edge, peering through the leaves. The clearing was ringed with torches. In the center, Iphigenia was tied to a red pine. The wind tossed needles over her. She was pale, her short cap of blond hair glinting like gold. She must be terrified.
But she was also alone.
“There,” Helena said, rage making her feel hot all over. “We might be able to get her out before they know we’re here.”
Bruno pulled the shotgun she hadn’t seen strapped to his back. “And if not, I’m a really good shot.”
“We’re dealing with vampires,” Helena reminded him.
“Might not kill them but it’ll sure as hell slow them down.”
“Um, guys?” Cass asked.
“What?”
“Hello? Big fat trap down there?”
Helena scrubbed her face. “I know. But it doesn’t matter. Billie, you should stay up here,” she suggested, mind racing. “You’re better with knives. Find a tree to climb and you’ll see them before they see any of us. I’ll go in alone.” She ignored the requisite protests. “I mean it. They asked for me, they’ll get me. Anyway, they won’t take me seriously, a single raggedy girl. So we’ll use it. It might be the only advantage we have.”
“I don’t like it,” Bruno muttered.
Helena shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. It’s all we’ve got.”
Cass took a lighter out of her purse. “Maybe not.” She smiled softly, looking more like her grandmother than a New Age freak. “If we burn them out, they might not notice you freeing Iphigenia. Vampires like to be stealthy and there’s nothing stealthy about a forest fire.”
>
Portia whistled. “Nice, Tofu Girl. There’s hope for you yet.”
Bruno winced. “You’re going to double back and siphon the gas out of my bike, aren’t you?” She nodded. “Well, shit.” He got up to help her. “Don’t move until we’re back,” he ordered Helena.
“Watch out for the reapers,” she told them.
“The reapers? That doesn’t sound good,” Cass remarked.
“They’re the ones that bit you.”
“Definitely not good.”
Helena smiled at her, sharp and deadly as a fox in a henhouse. “Payback’s a bitch.”
Cass smiled back.
The forest was on fire.
That could only mean one thing, Liam thought.
Helena.
Helena’s heartbeat felt so loud she was sure any vampire within a ten-mile radius could hear it. She breathed slowly, making sure her stakes were secure. She’d already checked them six different times on the climb down to the meadow. There was one in each boot, one in her skirt pocket next to Billie’s knife, and one tucked into the small of her back. She was as ready as she was ever going to be.
She crept through the forest, wincing every time a twig snapped underfoot. She could drift through the Warren and never be seen, but put her in the middle of the woods and she was hopeless. She circled a tree and then passed through a bush she sincerely hoped wasn’t poison ivy. The wind shivered through the leaves. She crouched at the edge of the trees. It felt like forever before she caught the scent of fire. Smoke curled between the trunks, obscuring even the sharpest of vampire vision.
Now or never.
Helena went low and raced across the open field, her neck prickling nervously. She had a stake in one hand, a knife in the other. She heard a shout in the distance but couldn’t be sure if it was vampiric or human. She kept running.
“Hurry,” Iphigenia sobbed, pulling against her ropes. “I’m scared.”
“It’s okay.” Helena slid the last few feet toward her. “Are you hurt? Did they bite you?” Iphigenia shook her head. There was dirt on her face and across her shirt and her jeans were ripped, but Helena couldn’t see any blood. “I’m going to get you out of here. Just hold on.”
She sawed through the thick ropes with the knife until her skin chafed and blistered. Her blood smeared the twine, made her grip slippery.
Vampire Bites: A Taste of the Drake Chronicles Page 16