I couldn’t decide if that made me happy or pissed me off.
“I didn’t realize Master vampires drove their own cars,” I quipped, deciding not to dwell on Alucard’s chivalrous conduct—especially once we stepped into the parking garage and I could pretend like it hadn’t happened.
“They don’t. Course, most of the Masters live overseas and can get away with that,” Alucard said as he fiddled with his umbrella, drawing it down and winding it shut with a thin, black ribbon. “The roads out there haven’t changed that much. Those of us in the States, however, had to adapt. I learned how to drive a few decades back, once I realized keeping a horse in New Orleans was more expensive than owning a car.”
I shook my head. Of course the immortal bastard had given up horses for motorized vehicles a few decades back…years before I was even born. Yet another reason not to date vampires; there was just some shit you’d never have in common—like being old enough to remember when people wore pocket watches non-ironically. “So, let me guess, you’re a fan of the classics?” I asked, my tone a little harsher than it needed to be. “Are ye about to take me out on the town in a buggy?”
Alucard snorted and pointed with the tip of his umbrella—an uncommonly sharp tip. I turned to look and stared, open-mouthed, at the vehicle he’d directed my attention to. “You should apologize to the lady,” Alucard said, stepping past me to run his hand along the surface of his car—a sleek, sporty number that could have doubled as a spaceship in any movie set before the year 2000.
“What the hell is it?” I asked, studying the dark chrome exterior. The car’s curves had curves. Hell, the thing looked like it could take off vertically and take us back to meet Jesus.
“It’s a custom vehicle. Something German that Othello shipped over with Grimm Tech goods. I stole it from Nate. Gunnar and I have a bet to see how long it takes before he notices it’s gone,” Alucard said, eyes lighting up like a boy with his first really cool toy. Gunnar and Alucard, from what I’d gathered during our assault on Magnus’ mansion, were friends with Nate…apparently the sort of friends who stole each other’s shit when the mood arose.
Not that I was throwing stones.
“Ye know, if ye stole somethin’ like this from me, I’d kill ye,” I said, just to clarify where we stood.
Alucard rolled his eyes. “If I stole anything from you, cher, I imagine I wouldn’t be long for this world.”
I considered that for a moment, then nodded.
“So, does that mean you don’t want to take it for a spin?” he asked, smirking, dangling the key out in front of me like a prize. Even the key looked like it belonged on the SyFy channel.
I snatched it from him.
“Let’s go,” I said, grinning like a madwoman.
The gas pedal thrummed under my foot.
“So, you gonna fill me in on what you’ve got going on, or what?” Alucard asked, studying his nails as I whipped us through a sharp turn, completely unconcerned by the fact that we were tearing through the streets of Boston at breakneck speeds during a thunderstorm. The perks of being immortal, I guess.
Of course, I didn’t have that excuse.
Not that I was looking for one.
“How much did Othello tell ye?” I asked, keeping my hands off the steering wheel as we hydroplaned, waiting for the tires to catch before I reasserted control. God, I lived for this shit; back when I was a teenager, I’d saved up and bought a piece-of-junk van so I could cart my friends to concerts across state lines, and I could still remember the feeling of flooring it around the edges of a cul-de-sac after a winter storm, the thrill of trying to get a handle on it before we spiraled out of control and spilled over into a neighbor’s driveway.
The van had lasted about six months.
“She filled me in on the relevant parts,” Alucard replied. “You have a way into Fae and need someone who knows the lay of the land. Something about a boat.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny metal ball—one of the portable Gateways designed by Grimm Tech. “Said this’ll get us where we need to go. That we could negotiate our destination from there.”
“Why didn’t ye tell me you’d been to Fae before?” I asked, sneaking a glance at him. Alucard peered out the window, staring at nothing, half his face obscured in shadow. He was inhumanly still, like a statue, only the slight ruffle of his shoulder-length hair from the car’s air conditioning offered the illusion of his being alive.
“It’s not something I typically talk about,” Alucard said, finally. “Besides, it didn’t come up, as I recall. If it had, I’d have filled you in.”
I paused, realizing he was right. Between saving the girls from Magnus, participating in Dorian Gray’s Fight Night, and rescuing Othello, there hadn’t been a whole lot of time to get to know each other or exchange personal anecdotes. “Fair enough. But now’s as good a time as any, so spill.”
“I tagged along with Nate on one of his trips, that’s all,” Alucard said, shrugging. I could tell from the way he held himself that there was more to the story. Probably a lot more. I briefly considered calling him out on it, but decided it wasn’t worth the hassle; if the vampire wanted to keep a few secrets, he was entitled.
I had plenty of my own, after all.
“So, is there anythin’ I should know goin’ in? How’s the gravity in Fae? Sneakers or boots? Do I need to pack an umbrella?”
Alucard snorted and folded his arms over his chest. “Actually, none of that really matters once you’re there. I mean, you sort of make do with what you have. It’s an odd place. Easy to lose track of yourself and your surroundings. Hard to recall once you’ve left. It’s like being in a dream—one of the lucid kind. Especially once your other side takes over.”
“Your other side?”
“Yeah. Course that bit is even harder to explain. All I can say is that once you find your wild side, it’s like feeling whole for the first time. Like your entire life you’ve been half-deaf, and then suddenly you can hear perfectly fine. You ever been to the ocean?”
“Aye,” I replied, cocking an eyebrow.
“Remember coming up from beneath a wave? It’s like that. It’s like being born all over again.”
Alucard Morningstar, the vampire poet. Who knew? I shook my head. “Does it change who ye are?”
The Daywalker shrugged. “Maybe. Can’t say I recall being anything other than what I am, now. But it comes with other changes. Physical ones. You’ve seen it. My wild side.” Alucard glanced over at me, flames dancing behind his eyes, light flickering beneath his skin.
“Will that happen to me?” I asked, a little alarmed.
“No idea. But probably.”
I felt my grip tighten on the steering wheel. I wasn’t sure how I felt about that. No matter how poetically Alucard described the experience, it sounded an awful lot like an acid trip to me—side effects included. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to transform into something inhuman, something other than who I already was; I liked me—attitude, scars, and all. Besides, what if I ended up morphing into something incredibly lame, like a mermaid or a Power Ranger?
“So, you gonna tell me exactly where we’re headed?” Alucard asked, to fill the silence.
“Aye, but first I need to pack,” I replied. I hadn’t expected Othello to offer up a Gateway as part of the deal, but it made sense, especially if she wanted me to apologize to Nate sooner rather than later. But that was fine by me; I had places to be and Faelings to interrogate.
Alucard shook his head. “I really don’t think you’ll need much. Focus on what you can carry, and the rest will sort itself out, depending on what you’re looking for…” he drifted off, eyeing me.
“Answers,” I replied, after a moment’s consideration. “I’m lookin’ for answers.”
“Is that right?” Alucard murmured.
I nodded. “Of course, the good news is I can pack light, in that case. I’ll really only be needin’ a few t’ings.”
“Oh, yeah? Like what?”
<
br /> “Guns, mostly,” I replied, grinning. “Lots of guns.”
Chapter 6
Alucard waited while I unlocked my door, humming a little to himself, one arm folded behind his back like a southern gentleman. I pushed the door open and stepped inside, prepared to make quick work of getting my shit together; I had a bug-out bag prepped and ready in case Othello or Jeffries sent word of Christoff’s whereabouts, so there wasn’t much else to throw together.
I stopped and frowned, realizing for the first time that my little Faecation might take longer than I’d planned. I knew time moved differently in Fae, but that was no guarantee I’d be able to make it in and out in time to rescue Christoff…if there was anything left of him to rescue.
Shit. What was I going to do?
“You gonna invite me in, cher?” Alucard asked, interrupting my thoughts, one arm propped casually against my doorway, his shirt hiked up just enough to reveal a small sliver of flesh along his waistline.
Oh, right. I’d forgotten that, without my express permission, Alucard wouldn’t be able to cross the threshold into my apartment—one of the many unfortunate side effects of being a bloodsucker they don’t hit you with in the brochure, along with never being able to use a mirror, a severe allergy to all things Christian, and a serious Vitamin D deficiency.
Gotta read the fine print, people.
Especially if the contract is written in blood.
I stood in the hallway, debating. Did I want him to come in? I hated to admit it, but part of me did. The same part of me that couldn’t help but notice how firm and narrow his hips were now that they were on display. But the rest of me, the rational bits, knew better; no matter how attractive he was, Alucard was still a vampire. “No,” I replied, finally, before turning away.
Suddenly, my lights flickered.
“Son of a bitch!” Alucard cursed.
I spun around and saw the Daywalker lying flat on his back, rubbing at his face like it had caught fire. I thrust my head out, glancing down the hall, but no one had come out to check on us—thank God. “I said no, ye idgit!” I hissed. “What part of no didn’t ye understand?”
“I was only trying to get out of the hallway,” he said, shaking his head as if dazed. “Besides, the whole invitation thing doesn’t really apply to me, these days.”
“Then how…” I drifted off. I reached out for my doorway and ran my fingers down the white trim. I started laughing; I couldn’t help it. “The wards,” I said, doubling over. “Ye got taken out by me wards.”
“Seriously?” Alucard asked, cocking one eyebrow.
“Blame your friend Nate,” I said. “Besides, that’s what ye get for tryin’ to come inside without me permission, ye bastard,” I admonished. “Now sit right there and be a good vampire until I get back.” I left him in the hallway, glaring at me, the tip of his nose bright red from where it had brushed up against my newest line of defense—I still wasn’t sure what to call it.
The WizardProof 9000, maybe.
Or my FaerieSafe Home Security System.
Either way, the wards were my newest precaution; I’d grown sick and tired of Freaks and Fae popping in unannounced whenever they felt like it. I’d had to call in more than a few favors to have them installed, but at least I knew they were up and running now—and apparently strong enough to send a Master vampire flying back flat on his ass.
The FreakOut…
Nah.
I returned a few minutes later and tossed Alucard my duffel bag full of guns while I slid a backpack of essentials over one shoulder. He grunted, hefting the remarkably heavy bag as though it weighed nothing. To be fair, it was lighter than usual; I’d opted to leave my shotguns behind. If I ended up needing more firepower than the assorted weaponry tucked away in that bag, I was probably fucked, anyway. I held my hand out for the duffel bag’s strap, but Alucard had already thrown it over one shoulder, opting to carry it for me.
I glared at him.
“What?” he asked. “You have a problem with me carrying your bags?”
“You keep actin’ like you’re a Goddamned gentleman,” I said, “and I’ll use one of me guns to blow ye to pieces. We both know ye aren’t one, or you’d look a hell of a lot less like Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
Alucard grimaced and pawed idly at his nose, which must have still stung. “You wouldn’t blame a man for trying to get in your good graces, would you, cher?”
“A man, no,” I said, slamming the door shut behind me. “But then ye aren’t a man at all, are ye?”
Alucard stiffened at that. He sniffed and adjusted the weight of the duffel bag, his face an expressionless mask. “You ready?”
“Aye.”
We found a deserted alley not far from my building, the building on either side so close together Alucard’s umbrella brushed stone as we walked. He pinched the tiny ball between two fingers and chucked it at the ground. It shattered instantly, and a vortex of air spun out, pushing us away at first, then drawing us in. A Gateway appeared—a tear in the fabric of reality. I tried to peer through to the other side, but all I saw was darkness. The rain began blowing from all directions, hitting us despite the umbrella, first in the backs, then in the face.
“Ladies first,” Alucard drawled, casually flicking water off his brow.
I shot him a glare, which he ignored, then ducked under his arm and stepped through the Gateway. Alucard followed a moment later, and the Gateway snapped shut with an audible pop. The darkness, mitigated by the streetlights on our side of the Gateway, became absolute.
I realized it was eerily quiet without the sound of pounding rain; I’d been listening to rain for so long now that I’d almost forgotten what total silence sounded like. But then I noticed another sound had taken its place, equally rhythmic, though significantly less noticeable. Waves, I realized. Waves lapping against something. Suddenly, the floor shifted, and I lost my balance. I stumbled sideways, then felt an arm draw tight around my waist, catching me as securely as a safety net.
“Careful, cher.”
“What the hell was that?” I asked, shrugging myself free.
“My guess? We’re on a boat. A big one, or else we’d be wobbling all over the place. Or, well, you would be. We vampires have better balance than that,” he said, clearly still stewing over my earlier comment.
“Whatever,” I said. “Where are we?”
“Below decks, probably. Somewhere out of the way. Looks like a closet from what I can make out. Lots of clothes…” he drifted off, as if noticing something odd. I cursed inwardly; I’d momentarily forgotten that vampires had exceptional night vision—like any other predator who hunted at night.
“What is it?” I asked, suddenly aware of how precarious a situation I’d put myself in by hopping through a portal with a strange vampire I hardly knew. If I was being honest with myself, however, it wasn’t so much that I didn’t trust Alucard as it was that I didn’t trust anyone. That…and playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with a bloodsucker sounded a whole lot like Hell to me.
“Nothing,” Alucard said a moment later. “Just that some of these outfits, well…suffice it to say you wouldn’t want to be buried in them.”
I frowned, a little alarmed by the analogy. “Is there a door? A way out?”
“Hold on…yeah.” The vampire slid around me, moving so furtively it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. “Here it is.” He turned a knob and pushed open the door. More darkness loomed beyond.
Together, we crept out of the closet, Alucard in the lead. I followed, one hand pressed up against the muscles of his back, straining my ears. “Where are we now?” I whispered.
“You know, you could just get out your phone and look,” Alucard said.
Well, shit.
“Ye tell anyone about this,” I warned, “and I’ll—”
“As much as I appreciate your colorful threats, cher, I think it would save us both some time if you got on with it,” Alucard said, placatingly.
I mu
ttered vague threats under my breath, reached into the back pocket of my jeans, and pulled out the phone Othello had given me—an untraceable gadget with more bells and whistles than I knew what to do with. I fussed with it for a minute until I found the flashlight setting, then held it up to survey the immediate area. What I saw literally made me speechless.
We were in a bedroom.
Othello had given me and the charming vampire a Gateway that led to a fucking bedroom.
Oh, I was so going to kill her.
The room itself was surprisingly small, with very little furniture to speak of; most of the square-footage was occupied by a gargantuan mattress—an emperor-sized bed with enough pillows to smother a small nursing home’s worth of patients. Hell, the thing was so big it would probably take me a solid minute to climb out of bed every morning. What kind of acrobatic sex did you need to have to warrant a bed that size? Or, for that matter, how many partners did you need to make it a tight fit?
I decided I didn’t want to know.
“We need to get out of here,” I mumbled.
“Whatever you say, cher. Lead the way,” Alucard said. I got a feeling he was enjoying himself a little too much.
“D’ye know this was where Othello planned to send us?” I asked.
“No clue,” the Daywalker said, though he didn’t sound the least bit concerned by our destination.
I elbowed him in the back. “Knock it off.”
Alucard shrugged. “As you wish.”
I groaned, rubbing the bridge of my nose. “How many of those movies d’ye end up watchin’?” I asked.
“All of them, but I’ll let you in on a secret…” Alucard turned and stared at me, his cheekbones sharp and defined beneath the glow of my impromptu flashlight. “The Princess Bride was my favorite.”
Of-fucking-course it was.
I sighed, inwardly. Way to go Quinn, you inadvertently turned Alucard into the sexiest fanger alive…
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