She glanced at the witch. He was looking at the male vampire with an expression of hatred. She knew that look well; she had been on the receiving end of it more times than she cared to count. “I know who you are,” was all he said, but his tone made her shiver.
Alec didn't blink. She couldn't tell if he was surprised or not. His expressions were very subtle, and easily missed. “I'm afraid you have the advantage, then.” He smiled, baring the tips of his fangs in an overtly threatening way. “You'll need it.”
The females giggled again—high and sinister, like glass whistles. The sound of it hurt Catherine's ears. What was wrong with them? They acted simple, like children.
Evil children. Children capable of rendering her limb from limb.
Despite his reluctance to face the vampires, the witch was showing little fear now. He folded his arms and lifted his chin. “Who sent you?”
“Not many Others wander into our hunting grounds,” Alec said, “And we've never seen a witch and a shifter traveling together before. Even you must admit how…odd that is. We were simply curious as to what your intentions were. It's only natural that we would take an interest.”
“We love shape-shifters,” one of the females said.
“To death sometimes,” the other added.
That explains the lack of Others in the mall.
She took a step back and after exchanging a glance, the two females swayed closer, giggling like schoolgirls. “She has such a pretty face,” said the dark-haired one. The light in her eyes was not quite sane. “I could just eat it.”
“I don't know,” said the blonde doubtfully. “She looks rather stringy.”
“But you love the thighs,” the first female purred. “And her breast looks so tender.”
A ball of flame jettisoned from the witch's hands, causing the two females to flinch and cry out in alarm. They retreated from the balcony, hiding behind their male. Alec didn't move, even as the flame licked at the soles of his leather shoes. An alpha male, then, with a very convincing front.
“Who sent you?” the witch repeated, in a harder voice. “I won't ask again.”
“What poor manners,” said Alec. “Perhaps we should teach them some.”
The tall, slender brunette who had talked of carving up Catherine like a roast bared her teeth at the witch from behind her Master's shoulder. “You're mine.”
Flame danced in his palms. He didn't bother with a retort, his lips were already moving in a frenzy, preparing whatever spell he planned to use. The other two whipped their heads towards Catherine.
I guess that means I'm theirs.
She shifted leopard. It wasn't as fast as a cheetah, nor was it as big as a lion, and it didn't blend into the shadow's as well as a jaguar, but it had a lethal grace that would match that of the vampires'—she hoped.
Alec jumped off the balcony. The impact of his feet hitting the floor created a dent in the stone tiles. Unconcerned, he brushed imaginary specks of rubble off his leather jacket, and grinned up at the female. “Show-off,” said the blonde. “I'll take the stairs.”
She moved so fast, the leopard's eyes couldn't track her movements. One minute, she was standing above Catherine on the glass-lined balcony, the next she was standing beside Alec.
On some level, Catherine understood that this was a display—they were trying to scare her. To show her that she didn't have a chance. But, Predator whispered silkily, they wouldn't bother with such posturing if they thought you were weak.
Predator knew all the tricks. She had played them before.
They approached together, trying to corner her. Catherine backed up carefully, taking care not to leave herself open. When they attacked, it would undoubtedly be from the side.
Alec moved with more grace than the female, each step laced with a feline grace that mirrored her own. It was the female the leopard was watching. She still seemed awkward in her vampire body. She hesitated when taking steps, like a foal just learning how to walk. A fledgling, maybe? That made her no less dangerous, but was useful to keep in mind; it meant she might not have tapped into all of her abilities yet.
Unless it's a trap, Predator cautioned, still watching, still vigilant.
“What a magnificent animal,” Alec was saying. “Is that your settled form? The bounty description said you were some kind of bird.”
He was trying to distract her. Catherine ignored him, keeping her eyes on the female, who was trying to edge in closer to her right flank. The leopard's ears went flat. She hissed warningly and the female hissed back, gleeful. “Here, kitty, kitty.”
Catherine's hiss became an all-out growl that revved through her body like a chainsaw. Alec started forward, but he was too eager, and got too close.
She lunged for his leg—not a real attack. She was testing, seeing how much real damage she could do. Her teeth dug into his leg, an attack that would have shredded the muscle tissue of a human, tearing ligaments. The vampire's skin was only slightly softer than stone. He flinched, though. So he wasn't invulnerable then.
Something hard rolled around in her mouth. She spat. At first she thought it was a bone fragment and was pleased. Perhaps the vampires were more brittle than they looked. But then she rolled her tongue around her jaw and realized it was a piece of chipped tooth. One of her teeth. Biting the vampire had broken her teeth.
The vampire kicked her off him and she crashed into the display window of a nearby Hot Topic. She yowled as the shattered glass nipped at her with its jagged teeth, slicing fur and shredding skin. She collapsed onto a table and one of the plywood shelves fell on top of her. My Little Pony plushies raised down on her prone body. She shook them off, slipping and sliding on the scattered pins and key rings. Fuck.
With almost no effort, he had sent her flying over thirty feet.
Her teeth throbbed in her gums. So did everything else.
Won't be trying that again.
“Nice throw,” said the female, distorted by the shards of glass still clinging to the frame. “How far do you think that was? Twenty feet? Thirty?”
“Thirty,” Alec said, sounding bored.
She shifted her weight to her forepaws, trying to lever off the rack that was pinning her rear down. It lifted a few inches, along with her hopes, and then her strength gave out and she went slamming back down, wheezing.
Alec grabbed her hindleg and dragged her out from the collapsed display, causing her limb to burn like fire. Had she been human, she would have screamed. The sound that came out of the leopard's mouth was a pretty close approximation. Its spine was more flexible than a human's, and so she could up and lashed out with a forepaw, claws extended. Three deep red welts appeared in the vampire's cheek.
Alec released her, and took a step back to crack his neck back into place. He was limping a little, where she'd bitten him. She couldn't help but feel pleased.
Not so strong.
But not prey, either. And she had injuries, too. One couldn't be thrown so far, so hard, and not take a serious hit. Plus, Alec had twisted her leg when he'd pulled her out from the table. It wouldn't support her full weight without wobbling, sending streaks of pain up the joint. She was healing, but it would take several minutes—time she didn't have.
Unless she switched to another form, and soon, her mounting injuries would worsen.
Catherine clenched her teeth and tried to recallibrate her center of balance. The female kicked her wounded leg out from under her with one heavy leather boot.
With a sneer, the female vampire stepped on her throat with the high-heeled shoe. There was a designer on the side. It faded behind the red spots that danced into her vision, and then everything blurred. “Not so tough now, are you, bitch?” said the female vampire. “Look at you. Weak as a kitten.”
A garbled mewl escaped her mouth as she clawed at the air, struggling to breathe.
“Don't kill her,” Alec growled, hobbling towards them. “The goal is to force her to Change, not to kill her. Her blood will be far more potent when
she's in human form.” He spoke quietly, now, but not so quietly that Catherine couldn't hear him. “Patience. She's already weakening.”
Mercifully, the pressure abated, and Catherine drew in a ragged breath. So that was the plan. They wanted her in her human form, because she'd be easier prey.
Catherine tore at the heel of the female vampire's shoe. Fabric tore. Now she was hobbling. Catherine supposed it was hard to walk when only one of your shoes had a heel. Predator was pleased. Prey-walk.
“How dare you!”
“Ebony,” Alec said warningly.
Catherine snarled a laugh. The creature was named Ebony?
The female vampire raised a taloned hand warningly. “She ruined my shoes.”
“With the money the witch's blood will bring us, you can buy all the shoes you want.”
“But these were my favorite.” She sulked like a spoiled child. “Let me hurt her a little. Please, Master? At least let me gouge out one of her eyes.”
A shrill scream echoed brightly in the plaza below. Catherine could smell smoke, and burning flesh and hair. Alec sighed, like a beleaguered parent. “No. Help your Sister. It appears that taking on the witch child was more than she could chew.”
“But your leg—”
Catherine knew Ebony was less concerned with her Master's leg than getting cut out of her share. He knew it, too. This was an exercise in dominance. For her benefit, she supposed. Maybe he meant for her to be flattered or awed by it, as one predator to another. “Go,” he said. “Now.”
Ebony bowed her head and dashed off to the food court.
Alec stood up at his full height, putting his weight on his injured leg. Catherine stared at him in disbelief and he smiled. “You're not the only one blessed with fast healing.”
He straddled the leopard's body, and he might have been made of silver for all the effect that her struggles had.
“This looks painful.” He tugged at her twisted limb, watching her spasm beneath him. “Are you sure you wouldn't rather Change into something more comfortable?”
Catherine snarled, and his smile faded.
“Humans I am used to feeding from. It would be painless. With this form,” he ran his fingers down the leopard's soft, furry chest, “I cannot guarantee the same certainty.”
A threat. And not a very subtle one, either. Her snarl grew louder.
Alec shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he said. And then his teeth sank into her throat.
Once, Alec St. Clair had been an adept Diad, a which skilled in both water and air. He had been captain of the guard in Royce Riordan's court. Fitting, considering his desire to consolidate power. But Alec hadn't been content to remain one of Finn's father's lapdogs, no. He had wanted more—more power, more influence, more everything.
So he had broken the Fourth Rule, and killed an Other. The first of what would prove to be many. And he had turned into a vampire.
Witch blood was poisonous but it had an odd effect on other witches. If a witch killed another witch and drained every last drop of blood in their veins, they became a vampire. Their familiars did not last through the transformation; they died almost instantly, and with them, so did their powers, and their ability to walk in the sun.
They became stronger, though, and gained the ability to create other vampires. Weaker vampires, usually humans. Sometimes a shape-shifter they had gotten too careless with. Regardless of their species of origin, sired vampires held a fraction of the strength of their Masters.
Finn studied the dark-haired vampire in front of him, whose lips were curved into a smile. Vampires were not studied, but he had always suspected that they grew weaker because the blood that had powered the transformation was diluted through each sire.
“You're pretty,” the vampire purred, and she lunged at him, knocking off his hat. Graymalkin spilled out of it, skittering across the floor tiles and out of sight when the female aimed a well-placed kick at her. Not diluted enough, he thought.
Finn shucked off his coat and rolled up his shirtsleeves. The female vampire was watching him with speculation that veered beyond the predatory. She couldn't feed from him, and she wanted his blood for profit, not food. Maybe there was still enough human left inside her that she had other hungers, as well. She couldn't be more than twenty-six.
When she had been turned, she had been in her sexual prime.
He began flinging fire spells at her. She dodged them, laughing as if this were all a game to her. Vampires burned like paper when exposed to fire. He wondered if this was a front, or if she was naïve enough not to know her own weaknesses. Alec had never been patient. Finn doubted he would take the time to sit down his offspring and explain to them their new shortcomings.
She wasn't quick enough to dodge the last bolt, and flame singed her clothes, eliciting a startled sound. She hit the ground, putting it out before the flames could lick at her bare skin. Finn took aim and was cut off abruptly when she tackled him, knocking him flat on his back.
“Such a naughty boy,” she chided him. He opened his mouth and she clapped a hand over it, muffling his next spell. “Don't you know what I am?” The vampire ran her finger down his chest before tearing his shirt open. It was painful. He winced. “Now I'm going to have to punish you.”
Finn glared at her, unimpressed.
She sighed as she studied his bared torso. “It's too bad you aren't human.”
The thought filled him with disgust. Humans were commoners and fools.
“Or a shape-shifter,” she added, as an afterthought. “They are so delicious.”
He should have been revolted, but felt only a very pale shadow of disgust.
She ran her hand over his chest. His cock throbbed dully in response. His body had been playing traitor since last night, and this vampire was touching him the way he had touched Catherine. His breath came shorter when her tongue flicked against his hardening nipple. This was fucked up, even for him. But then, maybe he could use this to his advantage. All he needed was for her to release his mouth.
“Alec has your friend,” the vampire whispered against his throat. “She's very pretty, too.”
There was a knife in her hand now. He didn't need to look at it closely to know that it was iron. It slashed into his side and he flinched beneath her. She collected the blood with a laugh, and kissed his cheek. “You smell like her,” she whispered, rubbing against him. “Did you fuck her, too, beautiful boy?”
So that was why she was reacting to him like this. He smelled like her drug of choice. Something about shape-shifter blood was irresistible to vampires. Witches had used it as a bargaining chip in the past, to buy the temporary alliance of vampires when needed. That had all stopped with the Truce, though.
Finn shook his head angrily.
She gouged into him again, and this time he cried out. This was almost worse than when he had been held captive by Slayers and bled out by his wrists. “Liar,” she said cheerfully. “I know you did.”
The vampire was wasting more blood than she was collecting. But she seemed more intent on torturing him than actually doing her task. More proof of her inexperience. He remained still as she ran her fingers through his hair, looking down at him with mock sadness. “Do you think I'm very pretty?” she asked him.
Finn nodded, letting his body go limp. The vampire sighed, and he braced himself for the knife again. “How sweet,” she purred, tossing it and catching it in her hand neatly by the hilt. But she didn't cut him this time. Not yet.
Be careful, Phineas, said Graymalkin.
“Kiss me,” she ordered him, and he did, easily; he felt nothing but the ice of her immobile mouth. She had retracted her fangs, but her hard, pointed tongue was painful as she assaulted his mouth. He could feel his lips bruising even now.
“Oh,” she sighed, into his mouth, “I can still taste her on you.”
Finn said only a single word in response, and then the vampire was off him, screaming, as her face began to melt off her bones like wax. He wiped off his mouth
and turned away. He didn't feel sorry. He never did; he only killed when necessary.
Now where the fuck is Catherine?
Before he could look around for the shape-shifter, though, the blonde vampire hopped in front of him. “Where are you going, witchling?”
He was tired of vampire games. “Where's the shifter?”
“Alec has her,” she said, over the sound of her Sister's screams. The dark-haired vampire was having trouble putting out the flames. Then she smiled at him sunnily. “You'll be playing with me.”
“I don't play,” he said coldly.
Her eyes dropped to his torn shirt. She glanced contemptuously at her Sister, who had gone deathly silent, and then her smile was back, predatory, white, and gleaming.
“Oh good,” she said. “Neither do I.”
Chapter Six
Shape-shifters were warned about vampires as a matter of principle. Be home before dark or you'll end up as some vampire's blood-whore. The warnings were always vague; they didn't prepare one for their speed, their strength, or the painfulness of their bite.
It was excruciating—
But only for a heartbeat. Almost as soon as Catherine registered the blistering agony and had the presence of mind to scream, it faded abruptly, washed away by a cool and soothing tide, made stronger still by the sudden absence of pain.
They must have had a drug in their saliva, something soporific. Its effect was strong, potent, and the effect was amplified by the rate at which she was losing blood. She had to Change, to get away. If she fell unconscious, she was done for. If she was human when it happened, she was dead.
Maybe I already am.
Still in leopard form, she stared at the vampire's throat with glazed eyes, watching as his Adam's apple bobbed with each swallow. Violent thoughts flashed through her head. She could tear out the throat, and then he would choke on all the blood he could handle.
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