by Kayleigh Sky
It was what Wen had worked for. It was what he deserved, and he’d let no vile human take it from him.
He crept down the hillside into the bowl of earth that had once held the amphitheater and sat on a wedge of concrete in the shade thrown by part of the roof over the old stage. He thought he was alone until a voice said, “Why so close to the Seneras?”
“We’re a half hour away at least. Nobody comes here.”
The vampire he spoke to was older. He looked like a human in his prime. Beefy, settled. His head was shaved, a loose shirt over the beginnings of a gut, but for all he looked like a human in his mid-fifties, Wen had no illusions that going against him was a good idea. Fortunately, he had no desire to. He lowered his chin though the vampire was not royal and not from any of the seven families. But he was proud, and he was of true blood, and that was all that was needed for Wen’s respect.
The vampire extended a hand and clasped Wen’s arm at the elbow.
“Any closer to solving the murder of our brother?”
“No,” said Wen. “But King Dinallah is involved.”
“Dinallah? What does Dinallah care about a lowly drainer?”
“Pity he wasn’t really a drainer,” said Wen.
The vampire rolled his eyes. “We are a ludicrous people trying to live at peace with humans. The old ways were simpler. Now we still hide while the weak drink human blood in the open. This killing is like a knot inside me. I wouldn’t shed a tear for a real drainer, but Brillen was one of us.”
Wen had no idea who Brillen was, only that he’d had the proper recommendations.
“So why am I here?” the vampire asked.
“We were robbed last night. Somebody broke in. The detective who was fired is now back on the case.”
“Cops are useless. I doubt I’d do much complaining if they actually did their job for once.”
“This one wants to. And he’s doing it with Jessa as his helper. On the King’s command,” he added.
The vampire turned to him, making a face of surprise mixed strangely with indifference. Even to this vampire, Wen’s family was lowly. They shared a love of race, but nothing else. Jessa wouldn’t matter to him. Still, the vampire looked curious. “I thought he was a simpleton.”
Wen bristled. “Not at all. A drainer.”
“A crossling.”
“Qudim was a sire to respect.”
“True.”
“The detective has Dinallah’s ear, and Dinallah has ordered Jessa to help him. To ease the way into our homes.”
“You want the murder solved, don’t you? Not all vampires will talk to a human. Not even a human cop.”
“Jessa is mine.”
The vampire laughed. “Now that I can respect and understand. Old fashioned jealousy.”
Wen took a breath, surprised at the heat that simmered inside him. He didn’t love Jessa, but he felt… affection.
“Jessa is… fond of romances and flowers… Too many years bedridden, relying on his imagination for company.”
“As you yourself said, Qudim was a sire to respect. I wouldn’t underestimate his son.”
“I don’t. It’s the human I don’t trust. They are low, and this one was fired from his job after attacking one of us. I don’t like him.”
“You don’t fool me, Wen. I see how you burn. You want your place in the Senera family, and the human threatens you.”
“I don’t want Jessa corrupted.”
“Better to find out if he’s corruptible now, no?”
The hiss that erupted from Wen’s mouth surprised them both. “You shame me.”
The vampire’s laugh was a soft, sibilant whisper. “Love.”
“Not love.”
“Yet still, you want me to murder the human.”
“I leave it to you.”
The vampire’s laugh deepened. “Of course. I take the risk. Willingly,” he added. “And soon.”
Wen frowned. “Why not now?”
“I like to understand things. Puzzles especially. Complicated processes. I think it best we don’t upset the apple cart as the humans say. I want to see where this detective takes his suspicions. You’ll have your reward soon enough. We all will. The time for us to rise is soon.”
Wen had no hope of that. He wasn’t religious or delusional. Their cities were gone, and he’d never wanted to be a part of them anyway. Drainers drank from humans, condemned to die without them. Wen had a place in this world, but he wanted power too. When Qudim had fallen, the Seneras had dropped in rank, but not below the Wrythins as Rune had bluntly reminded him. That slap in the face still burned.
The vampire stood, and Wen followed him up the hillside. An old road wound to a broken parking lot below. From there an old highway cut through the hills. They stood at the top of the road and gazed down on the sprawl of Comity. The sun glittered on glass and a sprinkle of lakes. The areas crushed in the Upheaval and not rebuilt had grown green over the years. On the far side of the city was another ridge of hills and on the other side of that was the ocean.
“What is your detective doing today?” the vampire asked.
“Investigating the jewelry connection, I imagine.”
“Keep close to your Jessa. Show an interest in his life.”
“I always do.”
“You are a good lover, Wen. I’d bleed the little drainer dry myself.”
The heat in Wen’s body cooled to a hoarfrost that seared his throat. His tongue froze, and his lungs seized. But it didn’t matter. The vampire clapped him on the back and flashed his fangs as though he hadn’t just threatened to murder Wen’s betrothed and said, “Soon the treasure will be ours.”
Wen managed a nod and stood fast, holding his breath until the vampire strode off, his loose shirt flapping in the breeze.
24
Undercover
It was still dark and only a couple of tables were taken. Otto waited until the server set down two mugs and filled them with coffee. Then he took a swallow from his and said, “Let me see what you’ve got.”
Jessa opened a fabric shoulder bag sitting on the seat beside him. They sat in a booth at the Denny’s by Otto’s house, waiting on their breakfasts. While he watched Jessa set several rolls of cloth on the table, Otto sipped his coffee, letting it banish the fog in his brain. The aromas of bacon and toast got his stomach waking up.
Jessa’s hair was alluringly tangled with a few thin braids near his face. Ginger whiskers sprouted along his jaw. He blinked and smiled when he met Otto’s gaze.
“These are my bracelets,” he said, unfolding one of the cloth rolls on the table. “And my necklaces,” he added, unrolling another bag.
He was decked out with his own jewelry too this time. Three hoop earrings in one ear, two in the other, three bracelets, and a necklace with an amulet that reminded Otto of Maisie’s.
Like a cloud over the sun, his mood darkened.
He pulled the bracelets over, rolling the beads under a finger. A few were strung together, some wired. Some of the beads were glass, some metal. They varied in spacing and color, each one unique. The ones on Jessa’s arm made a pleasant clacking sound whenever he moved his arm.
“It’s all costume jewelry. I like people to be able to afford it.”
“It’ll do,” said Otto, gazing down at the necklaces now. “It’s just to get us in the door.”
“Can’t you just make him answer your questions?”
Otto glanced up with a grim smile. “I can’t make him not lie.”
The plan was to present Jessa to Solomon Frenn as a jewelry maker looking for a retail outlet. It didn’t matter to Otto that Solomon only sold estate sale items and high-end art. Otto didn’t want the guy on the offensive. He was a citizen who’d never been charged with a crime, but most likely was sensitive about it. Otto wanted a feel for the guy without the walls that went up whenever cops asked questions.
“Won’t he lie anyway?”
“Yep. But he might not be as careful. Plus, I don’t kn
ow what I want to know yet, so this gives me some flexibility. Where’d you learn to do this?”
Jessa grinned. “Books. I love books.”
Otto chuckled, lifting one of the necklaces to the light now beginning to seep through the window. It was too faint to help much, but the tiny painting under its glass cabochon was easier to see. These were far more than costume jewelry. Otto picked up another necklace. This one was a tiny still life of green pears and yellow roses.
“These are good. Really good.”
“Thanks. My mom was an artist.”
“Well, you definitely got her talent.”
“It’s a vampire thing.”
Otto picked up another necklace. This one was simpler. A golden flower painted on sepia paper. But it was the most beautiful one of the pieces, he thought. He liked its simplicity. The one Jessa wore was beautiful too but heavy. Some kind of design decorated the inside of the amber stone. It wasn’t gaudy, but vampire tastes ran to the ornate.
“It’s a human thing,” said Otto. “Your mom’s talent.”
A faint color spread into Jessa’s cheeks while he rolled his cloth bags up. As soon as he returned them to his shoulder bag, their breakfasts arrived.
Jessa had a thing for fruit… and mushrooms. He dove into his omelet and fruit bowl while Otto worked on his pancakes and scrambled eggs with a side of bacon.
“Any questions?” Otto asked.
Jessa shook his head. “You’re my boyfriend, and we’re trying to find a place to sell my jewelry.”
“And why Solomon’s place?”
“Because we’ve tried others, and either they don’t want to do business with a human, or they don’t want to do business with a drainer.”
“Good. The rest we’re playing by ear.”
He stuffed a strip of bacon in his mouth while Jessa ate a strawberry only slightly redder than his lips. His nose didn’t look quite as pinched as usual, his amber eyes like jewels. Weird. Otto wasn’t sure when the vamp had started to look so damn appealing. Especially that tangle of hair.
After Jessa had gotten into Otto’s car that morning, he’d rolled himself into a ball, feet on the dashboard, chin on his chest, and dozed off. Nothing about his position had looked comfortable, but it had taken Otto back in time to the house he’d lived in with Maisie and his dad after the Upheaval. The one he’d grown up in was rubble and the new one was in a lousy neighborhood, but at least it still stood. He’d found a porn magazine under the mattress in his bedroom, the lack of originality of the hiding place making him laugh out loud. But that had brought Maisie peeking in, and when she’d seen the magazine, she’d darted over and snatched it out of his hands.
“Let me see that.”
“Give it back, Maisie, geez.”
His embarrassment had been at the level of self-combust, but Maisie had simply made herself comfortable against his pillows and leafed through the magazine. The thing had to have been decades old. Eventually, he’d edged closer, peering at the flying pages. Mostly women alone, a few women with men, and—
A guy.
By himself on a straight-backed chair, shirt open, pants undone, bent into an impossible curve, the head of his own cock in his mouth. Otto’s breath had wheezed in his throat.
“Is that real?”
Maisie had tipped her head from one side to the other. “Yeah. I think so.”
Looking back, Otto realized she’d probably only been about fifteen then. In his memory, maybe because she was older, she’d always been all-knowing, adventurous, and wise.
A moment later, she’d dropped the magazine on the bed and rapped his shoulder with a grin. “Have fun.”
Of course, he tried it. And failed to get his chin much past his sternum. But the idea of watching a guy do it was the thing that had stayed with him.
Now, chomping on another piece of bacon, he tried not to think of Jessa bowed like a pretzel with his dick in his mouth. He told himself it was pretty damn sleazy to fantasize about a guy while he was innocently stuffing himself full of fruit.
“I thought vamps didn’t like fruit.”
Jessa frowned. “Um… We’re human too.”
Otto stared at him for a moment as though the words had hit a stone wall and stopped somewhere in space before gradually continuing on. He cleared his throat. “Right. I forgot.”
Human, my ass.
But that’s what the scientists said. Essentially no different at all. The fangs were extra teeth even humans sometimes developed. In vampires they were specialized, an adaptation that had guaranteed their survival.
When Jessa pushed his plate away, Otto pushed his thoughts—and his fantasies—to the background too.
And again—as the morning light fell on Jessa’s face—Otto was struck by his prettiness. Exactly when had that happened?
He grabbed the tab on the end of the table and said, “I’ll take care of this and meet you in the car.”
Jessa headed out, and Otto waited at the register. Outside the sun rose higher, shining pale pink through the layers of clouds.
In the car, Jessa sat curled up again, shoulder bag on his lap. His eyes were half-lidded, and he looked peaceful and trusting, striking Otto with the unwelcome realization he had the safety of a drainer vampire prince in his hands. A jolt of unease hit him, and he squeezed the steering wheel and concentrated on the drive.
An hour later, Jessa straightened and said, “What’s that?”
Otto glanced to the side of the freeway. “Peewee golf.”
Jessa swung his head around, a frown puckering the skin over his eyes. “What’s peewee golf?”
Otto chuckled. “Do you know what golf is?”
“Wen said there used to be a golf course behind Comity House. That it was a very popular pastime, but that it took hours to play and used a lot of water for some reason.”
Otto barked out a laugh. “Well, usually the water was recycled. But yeah… hours. Hours smackin’ around a little ball on what they call a “green,” which is lawn. The idea is to hit a ball with a piece of equipment and try to sink it into a little cup. The peewee version is for kids, so it’s smaller, and they have to get their ball past different, fun obstacles. Adults like it too though.”
“Vampires like board games and cards.”
“I know.”
They sat around like old men in the park playing chess, except they liked coffee, so they usually congregated at coffee shops and Synelix bars, flashing their painted nails and fangs.
He glanced sideways, catching sight of Jessa’s necklace again. The etching inside looked like some of the tattoo designs vampires liked. “What is that inside your necklace?”
Jessa startled and reached for his amulet. “It’s a letter from an alphabet called the Letters of the Revelatory Passion. Pictograms, I guess, for things like heaven or sacrifice. There are seven of them, one for each family and each birth period, like your horoscopes.”
“Oh yeah? So what’s yours, your family’s and yours?”
Jessa’s fingers fell back to his lap. “Our sign is sacrifice. Emmolith in Ellowyn. Mine is love.”
When he fell silent after that, Otto asked, “What is that in Ellowyn?”
“Lith. The literal meaning of Emmolith is destruction for love.”
Jesus.
“That’s bleak.”
“People say love is a ferocious thing.”
People? Didn’t he love Wen?
“What do you think?”
“I think it’s like Joal. Salvation.” Jessa twisted in his seat and faced Otto, the frown back on his face. “What about you? What is the sign of your birth?”
“Ares.”
“The Ram. You’re like Rune. When is your birthday?”
“Was. April 4.”
Jessa’s stare was as hot as the sun used to be—as pleasurable on his skin as lying by a pool in summer.
He smiled as he eased his car onto the split in the highway. “I know what you’re thinking. I’m thirty-three.”
“Mal and Rune are a lot older,” Otto said.
“Doddering,” Jessa said with a laugh that made Otto struggle to focus on the investigation again. He hadn’t crossed Mal or Rune off his list of suspects yet. “Mal just turned thirty-five and Rune is thirty-eight. My mom was with my dad for six years before I was born. I was a surprise.”
“A happy one.”
Jessa smiled. “I hope so.”
“I had a sister.” He looked sideways in time to see Jessa’s face turn sad at the past tense. “Three years apart. One good thing about the Upheaval was us getting close. Before that we fought all the time.”
He fell silent then, waiting for Jessa to fill in the empty space.
“I was always close to my family. I don’t remember Celestine. I barely remember my mom, but I know Abadi wanted us dead. Mal and Rune stayed with Qudim and took care of me. I almost died a couple times.”
“How did you find out you were a drainer?”
Jessa didn’t speak for a moment, and Otto glanced sideways again. Jessa stared out the windshield as the green hills and the fruit stands whipped by.
“I got sick. Vampires don’t usually get human diseases, but I’m half human, so we thought I had the flu or something and it would probably go away, but it got worse. I was dizzy. My heart pounded in my chest. I had fevers and trouble walking. White gums.” He laughed suddenly. “Mal bought me a whole store’s worth of stuffed animals. Anyway, when I didn’t get better, we found a human doctor, who said I had a type of anemia most likely triggered by the Synelix.” He rubbed the tattoo on his neck.
“You didn’t realize before?”
Jessa gazed over, his expression musing. “I wasn’t hungry. I didn’t improve that much with human blood either. I had enough energy to read and get around the castle a little, but not much more, not even with blood transfusions. My doctor said my immune system was still over-reacting to the original exposure to Synelix, so when I was sixteen I had a splenectomy, and that helped too, but it wasn’t until Isaac that I felt good again.”
“You feed from others though, don’t you?”
“Sometimes, and I’m okay when I do now. I just don’t like it.”