He blinked, looked.
It was Jenn. Her dark auburn hair curled around her face—dark eyes, small mouth, lips parted. Her breath wafted against his lips, and he smelled the vanilla-scented soap she used, the lemons in her hair. Fresh blood.
Her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird’s.
“Oh, Antonio,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry. But we got you out. You’re safe.”
“Ay, amor,” he said through cracked lips. Then the beating of her heart washed over him like a tsunami, and he was drowning in the scent of her blood. A tantalizing fragrance that raised such a need in him that it was like holding a drowning man six inches beneath the surface of the water. He was helpless against it.
“No,” he muttered.
“It’s all right.” She placed her fingers over his mouth. “Father Juan is working magicks to heal you. So is Skye.”
“No time,” he said. “Kingdom.”
“What?” She cocked her ear close to his mouth. Her aroma was a storm on the waves.
He couldn’t fight it. He didn’t want to.
“Jenn, get away from me,” he whispered, the words spilling out in Spanish.
“Aren’t you glad to see me?” she asked in a small voice.
He jerked, suddenly aware that he was sitting in a darkened room and that she crouched beside him, his vampiric eyesight tracing the gauzy white nightgown she wore. There was a red satin ribbon at her throat, and she wore a scarlet sash. She reminded him of the runners at Pamplona, the poor humans fleeing from the Cursed Ones. From his kind.
“You can’t believe what I’ve gone through to get to you,” she said. “But we’re together now. You’re safe.” She reached out her arms to him, the sleeves of the nightgown pulling back from her wrists. Her delicate blue veins pulsed just beneath the skin.
“No. Run,” he said. “Get away from me.”
Her eyes glittered; her lower lip trembled. “Are you glad to see me?”
“Por supuesto. Do you need to ask?” he whispered. His fangs lengthened. He reached his hands toward her, wishing for his chains.
Smiling, she slid into his embrace. He turned his head away from her, trying to shut his jaw. His fangs pierced his lower lip, and he began to bleed. Shaking, he licked at the dead blood, but it was like saltwater to a man who was dying of thirst.
Unaware of his desperation, Jenn lay her head on his chest. He kept licking the blood off his lips, ordering himself to be satisfied with it. To let it be enough.
But it wasn’t.
“Get away from me!” he shouted.
Still she clung to him. With a roar of anguish he pushed her away. She sprawled backward, onto the floor. Antonio cried out, realizing what he’d done, falling to his knees beside her.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked brokenly, but before he knew what he was doing, he had grabbed her shoulders, pinned her beneath his weight, and sunk his fangs into her neck.
Ecstasy blazed through him. More. He had to stop. More.
A joy he had never known before filled his veins; rapture squeezed his heart, released it; squeezed, released. He soared, alive, nineteen years old and dreaming of the future. He drank. It was sweet, wonderful. He clung to Jenn, feeling as if she were being poured into him like water even as he was pouring into her like communion wine. United, in the way of vampires.
Grateful, he drank deeply, lustily.
Then, as her heart slowed, he realized what he was doing. What he had done. And he pulled away.
Or that was what he would have told himself later, if the girl beneath his fangs had not died. But the truth was that he kept drinking. He drank her dry. And when her heart stopped, he sank his fangs into the throat of another girl, who appeared beside the dead one.
He couldn’t stop himself from killing that one, either. By the arrival of the third girl he didn’t care; by the fourth he was glad.
He had never felt so liberated in his life. So free, so new. He threw back his head and laughed. He couldn’t remember his own name, how he’d gotten into the room of dead girls. What did it matter? All that mattered was blood. And there was a world of it for the taking.
“I’m going to hunt,” he told the vampire with the black hair. “I’m going to kill.”
“Good,” the vampire told him, as she led him to the window of her palatial suite. With the click of a remote the glass slid away, and the fresh air of the desert night washed across his skin.
“My city is your city, Antonio,” she urged him.
So that was his name? He liked it.
“Before you go,” said a voice behind him, “can you tell me, how is Skye?”
Antonio turned. A tall Spaniard faced him. He had a beating heart, and yet he wasn’t exactly human. Almost a vampire, but somehow not.
“Skye?” the man prompted.
“Don’t know her,” Antonio replied.
Then he left to hunt.
LAS VEGAS
TEAM SALAMANCA MINUS ANTONIO; TAAMIR AND NOAH
Jamie gaped at Eriko as she stood in the hotel room she shared with Jenn and Skye. She looked amazing and ridiculous all at the same time. Three days had passed since she’d run into Shell Ghost Shogun at the magick show and he had insisted on a private concert. He’d made it clear that no was not an option. He’d been cheated out of enjoying some time with the Vampire Three before. He would not be denied the company of the “Vampire One.”
After conferring with Jenn, Eriko had set a date—that Friday—and she, Jenn, and Skye had shopped for the proper clothes. If proper they could be called. She looked like a cartoon character, coating her face with white makeup, her lips drawn into a tiny cupid bow and her eyes outlined in shiny black eyeliner, with glittery red hearts dotting the corners. Stiff black petticoats stuck out from under a red satin miniskirt. White thigh-highs and black patent-leather heels completed her outfit.
“Are you having us on?” Jamie blurted. “What, were they all out of French-maid costumes?”
“Crikey, Jamie, where’ve you been?” Skye asked him.
“Fightin’ for a free Ireland, and then a free human race,” he shot back. “You?”
“Let me see your safe passage again,” Jenn said, crossing to Eriko.
Eriko reached in her bodice and pulled out a folded document stating that the human bearing this document was a VIP guest of Shell Ghost Shogun and must be shown every courtesy.
Skye joined them, moving her hands over her scrying stone, probably giving the juice a boost. Jamie glowered. Eriko had to go, but did she have to go looking like that?
“This is a good thing. He might know Aurora,” Eriko reminded Jamie. “He’s staying at Aurora’s Palace.”
“He might know you’re the Hunter.” He pressed his knuckles against his forehead and exhaled slowly. Then he lowered his hands to his sides and shook his head, his eyes closed. “It’s too risky.”
“Jamie, we’re hunters. Everything is risky.” Eriko slipped on short white gloves trimmed in red lace. “Everything.”
Jenn watched as Eriko stepped into the limo Shell Ghost Shogun had sent for her. Eriko had met the car in the turnaround of a different hotel about a mile from the Desert Blossom. Jamie followed on a motorcycle. Jenn, Holgar, and Skye were in a taxi; Taamir and Noah had rented a black van. The split-up had been Noah’s idea. If something happened to one group following Eriko, she’d still have multiple backups looking out for her.
They had stakes and crosses—easily made from items at hand. They’d hoped to buy some weapons, but humans weren’t allowed to carry firearms in Las Vegas, and no one was willing to sell anything illegally to a pack of strangers. Requests to Father Juan to locate a resistance cell had gone unfilled. People were too afraid to resist, or so it seemed.
All six of them kept Eriko’s vehicle in their sights. Jenn stared into the scrying stone. Skye had done well; she could see Eriko inside the limo. Behind the white geishalike makeup Eriko looked tired.
Then the limo pulled up to Aurora’s Pa
lace, and a Cursed One in a black suit helped her out. He was joined by another. They flanked Eriko as she went inside and entered a special elevator.
“Where are we going?” Eriko asked one of the vampires.
“We have sound?” Jenn asked, surprised.
Skye nodded. “I combined two enhancement spells. It worked.”
“Nice,” Jenn said appreciatively.
“Penthouse,” the vampire said to Eriko. “Miss Aurora’s suite.”
Jenn caught her breath. Holgar reached over and squeezed her hand.
“We knew that Shell Ghost Shogun might know Aurora,” Holgar said.
“I put a strong glamour on Eriko to keep her from being recognized,” Skye reminded her.
“This is good. She can try to make contact with Antonio,” Holgar added.
Jenn’s cell phone rang. It was Noah.
“Jenn, I’m here. We’re here,” he amended.
“Thank you.”
“I’ve got your back.” His voice was low, and steady.
In the scrying stone the elevator door opened. Now Eriko was facing an ornate white door embellished with reliefs of fanged Grecian figures.
That door opened. A tall, dark, and very hot guy stood in the doorway. It was Skye’s turn to gasp.
“Estefan?” Jenn guessed. Skye nodded. She looked ashen.
“She’s with Estefan,” Jenn said into her cell phone.
“Jamie will love that,” Noah drawled. “We should hang up. They might be able to listen in. We could, back in Israel.”
“Okay.” She didn’t want him to go.
After she and Noah disconnected, Jenn kept her eyes locked on the scrying stone as they exited the cab, nodding once at the black van as it rolled into the parking structure. She, Holgar, and Skye sauntered along in front of the massive complex, Holgar studying the topmost floor of the tallest building. Taamir and Noah appeared.
“Hey, ssssssexy,” a woman dressed in a silvery tank top and red mini hissed at Noah, strolling boldly up to him. She was a Cursed One, her fangs extended. “Want to party?”
Noah winked at her. “Maybe later, baby.”
The vampire sauntered away.
Jenn stared into the stone.
“Please, come in,” Estefan invited Eriko.
Eriko minced across the threshold, acting a little uncertain and excited. She gazed around the room. The lights were dim, and about a dozen figures sat in chairs. Only their eyes were visible, glowing in the shadows.
One of the figures spoke to her in Japanese. Jenn was fairly certain that it was Shell Ghost Shogun. Eriko bowed several times, speaking in Japanese. Shell Ghost Shogun laughed.
Music played, total tween-style Japanese pop, and Eriko started a routine. She stuck out her butt and pointed to her cheeks. She hopped around in little circles, sounding twelve.
“That is not Eriko.” Jamie said, watching over Jenn’s shoulder. She hadn’t heard him walk up. That was bad. Hunters had to be on their guard 24/7.
“Good. The glamour’s working,” Skye said happily.
“I mean, dancing around like an idiot.” His voice was tight. “This was another gem of an idea.”
Jenn refrained from pointing out that Jamie hadn’t protested when Skye had infiltrated Aurora’s nest back in New Orleans. He loved Eriko, and that was getting in the way. And he hated Antonio, and that was getting in the way too.
Eriko finished, and the assembled group applauded. She hopped around and bowed. Shell Ghost Shogun said a few more words in Japanese. Eriko laughed and waved her hands in front of her face. Then the music started up again.
“Can’t you do a spell to understand Japanese?” Jamie asked Skye. “Or make her sing something else?”
Skye shook her head. The song ended, and Jenn heard the pop of a champagne cork.
A young woman with two punctures in her neck appeared in their field of vision. She was wearing a white evening gown, and her pallor nearly matched the creamy fabric. Her hands trembled as she held out a tray of champagne glasses to Eriko.
Help me, she mouthed.
Then Aurora glided into view, and Jenn and the others stiffened.
“We’re gonna kill you, bitch,” Jamie muttered darkly.
“I wish Antonio had been here to meet you,” Aurora continued. As she said his name, the girl holding the tray swayed. Eriko reached out a steadying hand to help her.
Monster, the girl mouthed. Help.
“Staci, we’re all thirsty, not just our guest.”
Staci shuffled away from Eriko, holding out her tray as she moved among the seated figures. Each took a glass of champagne.
“Bueno, Staci. You may return to Antonio’s room and wait for him there.”
“Oh, please, no,” Staci sobbed. “Please, just kill me now. While he’s gone.”
“No,” Jenn whispered, stunned. “No.”
“Oh, God, Jenn,” Skye said, grabbing her hand.
He’s gone back, Jenn thought, to what he was. To what he’s always been.
She would have dropped the scrying stone if Skye hadn’t taken it from her. She would have burst into tears if she could have remembered how to cry. Or how to breathe.
“Maybe it’s a trick,” Holgar said, putting out a hand to steady her, much as Eriko had steadied the girl. “Maybe they know we’re watching. They’re saying that to provoke us.”
“Well, I’m bloody provoked. I say as soon as Eri walks back out that door, we attack. Take Aurora now,” Jamie said.
“With what?” Skye asked.
“What about Antonio?” Taamir added. “We should wait until he comes back. Make a clean sweep.”
Noah gently edged out Holgar, who yielded his place at Jenn’s side. “I’m sorry,” he said, wrapping his hand around her hand. “I know what it’s like to lose a teammate like this.”
“We—we haven’t lost anyone yet,” she managed.
“We should have been more aggressive about finding weapons and people,” Jamie said, pacing. “If he’s gone over to the dark side, he’s told them everything.”
“Maybe he’s pretending,” Skye said hopefully.
“Did you see the holes in that girl’s neck? And how terrified she was of him?” Taamir asked.
“Maybe she’s in on it,” Skye argued.
Taamir frowned skeptically. “Aurora obviously trusts him enough to let him go out on his own.”
“So we’re assuming,” Skye countered. “Maybe it’s just a show for us. Maybe they know we’re scrying.” Jenn knew she was trying to soften the shock, and she was grateful for the attempt. But it didn’t work.
“You said Estefan wouldn’t be able to detect your presence,” Jamie said.
“I said I hoped he wouldn’t be able to,” Skye replied.
“Well, you know, there are just too many maybes for my taste.” He rolled his shoulders, loosening them. “I say it’s time to attack.”
No one else spoke. From somewhere in her swirling brain Jenn knew they were waiting for her to respond. But she couldn’t.
Antonio, she thought desperately. Antonio.
“Come here a moment,” Noah told her. They walked a bit apart. Noah put his hands on her shoulders and positioned her to face him. Running his hands down her arms, he caught her hands in his. “They had to blow off steam,” he said under his breath. “Now they’ll listen to you. What are you going to tell them?”
“I can’t do this,” she whispered. “Noah, you don’t really know me.”
“I do know you,” he countered, squeezing her hands. “I am you. And you can do this.”
“No—”
“I was the scared kid. I was uncertain if I could step up when the time came. But I found out that I have strength deep down, deeper than most people can go. You have it. I can see it. That’s why you’re here. And that’s why you kind of like me.” He didn’t smile. He meant every word.
“And that’s why you have to go over to them and give the word. Just like you did in Russia.”
/> SALAMANCA, NEW YEAR’S EVE,
A FEW MONTHS EARLIER
JENN AND ANTONIO
“We are the vampire hunters.
Our cause is holy.
From Spain we come to save the world.
Race from us into the sunlight, demons of hell!
Better that you die inflames than by our hands!”
As she stood in the icy chapel on the grounds of the University of Salamanca, Jenn sang along with the survivors of her class—down to little more than a handful—and watched Antonio de la Cruz. While the others sang, he prayed. Beneath his black ceremonial robe, his black hair curled along his jawline. He had amazingly long lashes, and he was buffed out. Jenn had been crushing on him for two years. So had every other girl in class, except maybe Eriko Sakamoto—who was all business—and Skye York, who had a crush on an Irish student named Jamie O’Leary.
Tonight was their final exam. After two years of training, one of them would become the Hunter. What would become of the others? No one was sure.
Father Juan, the head of the Sacred Heart Academy Against the Cursed Ones, signaled for them to file out into the foggy night. The university bells tolled; the vampires were waiting to pick them off, one by one.
“This way,” Antonio said in his heavily accented English, as Skye and Eriko waved at them. They were part of a grupo, with Skye, Eriko, Jamie the crazy Irish guy, and Holgar, from Denmark. Holgar was a werewolf. Jenn still couldn’t believe it. An actual werewolf.
And Antonio? He was deeply religious, and he was Spanish, and that was about all she knew about him. Like all the other girls she had told herself that the reason Antonio hadn’t succumbed to her flirtatious skills was because he was studying to be a priest. She was glad he had her back tonight. He was a great fighter and strategist. Her grandparents had met in the underground, fighting for justice. No wonder she thought he was so wonderful.
When she thought about what was to come, she was amazed she’d made it this far. She wasn’t the best fighter, or the fastest runner. She hadn’t gotten the best grades in Lore and Strategy. She was just Jenn. But somehow she’d survived when more than a hundred others hadn’t.
“This way,” Antonio told the five, taking the lead. Jamie was about to argue with him when Holgar loped past. Jenn fell in behind.
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