by Sierra Dean
Trophies.
They were meant to warn others, but also to brag. Each of those items belonged to a different victim, and there must have been dozens in the heap.
“There’s no one here.” Felicia’s tone was a mix of disappointment and relief.
“Shh. You’re never alone in a place like this, little one. You need to listen and keep your guard up at all times.”
She fell so silent he was sure she was holding her breath. He didn’t need to breathe. They both listened intently. Just because it was quiet didn’t mean they were off the hook. Rogues would never leave a nest completely unattended. There was too much risk of another group moving in to take it over.
A low, rough chuckle announced the presence of company.
“Look at this. Council lackey brought us take out. What’s the special occasion, warden? Tribunal wants to make nice? I don’t think she’s going to be enough to feed everyone.”
Everyone.
Now that they were exposed, Holden could tell how many had been left behind. Just as he’d predicted, there were three of them. A standard number of low-level rogues to keep an eye on things. In spite of the bravado of the guy speaking, Holden was well aware these wouldn’t be the strongest or smartest vamps in the group. They wouldn’t take much work to dispatch, even if he had to do it on his own.
Thankfully his shirt was already ruined. He needn’t worry about getting more blood on it.
Unlike on the train, Felicia wasn’t fidgeting or nervous. She stood straight and rigid and appeared more ready to lunge into an attack than to make a run for it. Holden smiled slightly, thrilled to see which instinct was winning in fight versus flight. The hunter vibe he’d gotten from her was shining through.
She was holding the handle of the blade in the palm of her hand with the blade pressed against her forearm. To the approaching vampires she would appear unarmed. Very smart. It was an ideal tactic to get them to underestimate her.
Taking mental notes to report back to the Tribunal later, Holden took a step away from her, wishing he had an easy way to give her some reassurance but hoping she wouldn’t need it.
Holden thrust a thumb in Felicia’s direction. “This chick has been a massive pain in my ass all night. Groupies, you know? One bite and they’re hooked.”
“Bitches love a good nibble,” the lead vampire replied.
The trio was now more visible, in spite of the flickering overhead lights. The apparent leader, the one speaking to them, had been turned in his late thirties. He was handsome in a way the GQ editorial team would call “suggestively threatening.” He was tall with blond hair, and would have looked equally at home on either a runway or in a homeless shelter.
Holden didn’t recognize him, but that wasn’t surprising. Rogues didn’t often mingle with Council vampires, for good reason.
“You want us to get rid of her for you?” This was asked by a young woman, who couldn’t have been more than sixteen when she died. Nowadays it was against the law to turn them so young. Much like voting, eighteen was the earliest age a vampire could be turned in the modern era. That either meant this girl was much older than she looked or had been changed illegally. Both options were plausible, but she didn’t feel old to Holden. Power was almost tactile to vampires. If she were older, she’d radiate more power.
None of these vampires felt more than fifty.
You’ve got this, he thought in Felicia’s direction.
She’d spread her feet wide and was bracing herself like she expected a blow.
Aside from the teenager and the blond leader, the third vampire was a pudgy middle-aged man. Though he didn’t look like much, his kind were the most dangerous. Pretty people stood out, they got noticed, and people remembered them. Average-looking types could fly below the radar. They could sweep in and kill, and no one would recall having seen them after the fact.
Sometimes it paid to be ordinary.
Holden would keep an eye on the oldest one in case Felicia made the same mistake of underestimating him.
The teenage girl was eyeing Felicia with naked hunger on her face. The vampires who stayed behind had to feast on whatever was left after the hunt, or whoever was unlucky enough to wander onto the platform after hours. Clearly no one had been foolish enough to make their way down here tonight.
No one until Holden and Felicia.
Hunger would make them sloppy, though. It usually did. As long as they didn’t know she was here to kill them, Felicia could probably take one down and be onto the second before they had time to react. Holden hadn’t seen her coming, after all. She’d managed to get the blade into him before he’d recognized her intention.
All he had to do was give her the edge.
“You know how it is with the council.” He hefted an overly dramatic sigh. “You can’t kill them, and turning them is a bureaucratic nightmare. I thought you guys might be able to make my problem…disappear.”
“I can make her disappear,” the blond leader said, inching closer to Felicia. “You like vampires, baby girl? Like the way they bite?” As if his point wasn’t clear enough, he bared his fangs at her, snapping like a wild dog.
Felicia didn’t even flinch, though her heart quivered.
Patience… Wait for him.
“I liked his,” she replied. “Not sure I’m interested in your bite.”
This made the leader laugh, tossing his head back and howling as if she’d just said the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
It was the last thing he ever heard.
Felicia flipped the knife around in her hand and lunged at the vampire with the blade raised. It sank deep into his chest until only the handle was visible. The vampire stopped laughing, the sound dying abruptly on his lips. A gurgling sound bubbled up from his throat.
“Twist it.” Holden stayed back, but couldn’t resist giving her a little coaching from the sidelines.
Rather than retort back at him with an I know, she did as he suggested and twisted the blade. Blood erupted from the blond vampire’s mouth, coating his lips and chin with red. Felicia braced her foot on his stomach and kicked off, pulling the knife free. She danced back a couple feet, and for a minute the vampire stayed standing, swaying slightly as he looked down at the gaping wound in his chest.
That had been what she wanted to do to him, Holden realized.
At last, when it seemed as if time itself had come to a standstill, the vampire dropped to his knees and slumped forward, landing on his face.
“She’s a real heartbreaker,” Holden announced, breaking the tense silence. “Maybe I should have warned you about that.”
“Bitch.” The teenage girl no longer pretended to be human. Her features had contorted into a mask of pure loathing, and she looked ready to direct all that rage right at Felicia. The older vampire, hadn’t moved or reacted in any way. He simply stared down at the fallen vampire as if the body was an unwelcome inconvenience in the nest that he wasn’t sure how to clean up.
The guy made all of Holden’s internal warning alarms go off, but it was the feral girl who was the most distracting at the moment.
In a blur of motion, the teenager slammed into Felicia. The would-be slayer was knocked to the concrete, with a young vampire snarling in her face. Rage, however, was no friend in a fight. The vampire wasn’t concentrating—she was too busy trying to dive for Felicia’s neck, and bit her in the forearm instead.
Felicia screamed in pain, but there was an underlying tone of anger to it, not fear. Holden wondered if he should go to her aid, but he didn’t want to pull the white-knight routine at the first sign of trouble. It didn’t look great right now, but the odds weren’t totally in the vampire’s favor.
He could still get Felicia out if he needed to, so he held back.
A protective instinct he hadn’t been aware he possessed was bellowing at him to help her, but the cooler, more logical part of his brain told him it would only succeed in pissing her off.
Blood blossomed across Felicia’s face,
and he realized while he’d been debating coming to her aid, the vampire had raked her nails over Felicia’s cheek.
This, apparently, activated the human’s survival response.
The steak knife had skittered out of her hand when she’d hit the ground, but was still within reach. Clawing her hand toward it, she got a firm grip on the handle and for a brief second locked eyes with Holden.
One look was all it took to tell him what he needed to know. She had this.
Grabbing the knife so tightly her knuckles turned white, Felicia drove the makeshift weapon right into the teen vampire’s neck.
The move took the vampire by surprise, making her roll to the side and attempt to get the blade out of her throat. Felicia had the advantage this time with the girl now distracted. She got hold of the knife and pulled it out, before jabbing it into the vampire’s chest.
Holden didn’t need to remind her to twist it this time.
Felicia sat back, panting, the bloody knife clutched in her hand, and stared at the two bodies lying on the concrete subway platform.
“I did it,” she said breathlessly. Tears ran down her cheeks, but Holden suspected it was more from adrenaline than terror. Shock might set in soon, rendering her unable to fight. They’d need to finish off the last guy—
Where was the last guy?
Holden spun around, scanning the platform, but there was no sign of the third vampire. He’d vanished without so much as a sound, a pretty impressive feat since Holden could hear better than any human.
“Shit.”
This caught Felicia’s attention. She glanced up from the corpses—now truly dead—and gave him a quizzical look, as if she’d done something wrong.
“I did it.” She held up the knife.
“The other one is gone.” He moved over to her and hauled her to her feet. She was unsteady, bracing herself against him, leaving bloody handprints on his already ruined shirt. As much as he hated to admit it, the smell of blood on her was making him wild with hunger. They had to get out of here. She’d more than proven herself capable. No need to stick around for the encore.
She was still holding the knife in one hand, her grip so tight he didn’t bother telling her to drop it.
“You okay?” He didn’t want her to start panicking now. Once they were out, she could have the world’s biggest meltdown, but he wanted to make sure she was safe first.
Nudging her gently towards the exit, he took another look behind them, half-expecting the middle-aged vampire to leap out at them. It was all quiet, so incredibly quiet it felt wrong, like the world had stopped moving around them and they were the only things left alive.
In a manner of speaking.
“I’m okay,” she whispered.
“You did good, kid. Let’s go.”
“But the third one?”
“You really want to hang around and show me how big your balls are?” He squeezed her arm in a comforting way. “I saw all I needed to see. I think we can go.”
Felicia nodded her acceptance, though Holden could tell she didn’t like the idea of leaving the job unfinished.
He didn’t want to tempt fate any further. Yes, there was a chance the other vampire had made a break for it when he realized he was outnumbered and outmatched, but the more likely explanation was that he’d run to get backup.
The longer they hung around here, the better the chances of reinforcements showing up, and Holden didn’t want to wait for the cavalry. Three against two was fair odds. A whole nest against him and one exhausted human hunter didn’t skew things in a positive direction.
He hauled her up the stairs of the subway station and outside into the brisk night . Breathing might not be necessary for him, but he still took a grateful inhale of the fresh breeze.
Next to him, Felicia gasped in big lungfuls of air. She braced herself on his arm and bent double like she might throw up, but instead she started laughing. Her laughter came in giddy peals until she was so out of breath she could do nothing but wheeze. When she could barely breathe, she released his arm and sank into a crouch, cradling her head in her arms. Her shoulders trembled, but she made no sound, and Holden didn’t bother to ask if she was all right. He simply waited beside her until she was done. There were some things people needed to work through on their own, and he knew his comfort wasn’t welcome right then.
After a few minutes she roughly wiped stray tears from her eyes and got back to her feet, giving him the toughest, most defiant look he’d ever seen on her face. He had to resist the urge to smile.
She was going to be great.
Deep within him a feeling stirred. It was more than pride, more than relief. He couldn’t put a name to it—it had been too long since he’d felt anything similar. But it charged the attraction he’d been feeling all night, turning it into a fire that set his whole body ablaze.
How long had it been since someone had made him feel this alive?
“Felicia?”
She stared at him, a quizzical expression replacing the defiant one. “Hmm?”
“I’m going to kiss you. Don’t stab me.”
Chapter Five
Maybe it was the advance warning, but when he pulled her against him, she went willingly, like her body wanted nothing more than to fold into his arms. She fit there perfectly, so warm and soft he wondered how he’d made it this long without touching her.
Her eyes were open as he leaned in to kiss her, staring at him like she couldn’t quite believe what she was doing. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she let out a sigh, closing her eyes and clutching the fabric of his shirt, tugging him tightly towards her.
So eager was her response he almost pulled back, but when her tongue grazed his own, he was lost. He wouldn’t give up a single moment of this, not when he could be enjoying it. Perhaps, in a minute, she would realize she was making out with a vampire and recoil in horror. Until then he’d drink up every ounce of her taste so not to forget it. A kiss this perfect needed to be savored, like a fine wine or the first view of the ocean.
Her fragrance was sweet, and the added copper scent of the blood on her did nothing to take away from her natural aroma. It was the first thing he’d ever noticed about her, and she tasted better than he’d imagined, if it was even possible.
Watching her kill his own kind should have been a turn-off, but Holden had never been this attracted to a woman before. Not even Rebecca. The edge of danger, knowing how capable she would become with a little training, made her irresistible to him.
He’d always loved women who could kill him at a moment’s notice.
Probably had something to do with the woman who had made him what he was.
A psychotherapist would love to get to the root of such an attraction, no doubt.
His gums began to itch, and he withdrew from her quickly. If things went any further, he wouldn’t be able to keep his fangs from protruding, and that would kill the mood in a hurry.
Felicia stared at him, her lips parted and eyes wide. She touched the corner of his mouth, then her own, her skin reddened from the intensity of the kiss.
“Wow,” she murmured.
“I’ve wanted to do that since the second I saw you in the gallery tonight.”
“Maybe you should have done it before leading me to certain death.” She chuckled.
“Nah, I find women are more open to my charms right after their life flashes before their eyes. I suppose I look more attractive than death.”
Felicia smirked. “Said the dead guy.”
He kissed the tip of her nose, then her lips, stopping himself before those kisses trailed to her neck. “If I take you to bed, what does that make you?”
She smacked him playfully in the chest, blushing furiously at the suggestion. But he couldn’t help be notice she didn’t shoot the idea down.
A loud groan distracted Holden from his next thought. “Ugh. Please stop. I mean it. Please.”
Holden’s gaze followed the new voice, until he spotted a dark-clad figure c
ome up from the nearby subway stairs. As the person moved forward, Holden instinctively pushed Felicia behind him.
It wasn’t until the new person stepped into a patch of streetlight that Holden was willing to accept what he was seeing.
“Charlie?”
Charlie Conaway, in the rakishly handsome flesh. How long had it been since Holden had seen his vampire brother? A decade? Two?
How was it he happened to be in the exact right place to find them?
“You don’t look happy to see me, Chancery. No hug for your brother?” He opened his arms wide, as if he intended to follow through on the snuggly threat.
“What are you doing here?”
Charlie lowered his arms down. “Sightseeing.”
Holden glanced around to the decrepit buildings surrounding them, most boarded up and covered with profane graffiti tags. Windows higher than street level were barred, but most of the glass was broken anyway. It appeared as if the sanitation department hadn’t come to this particular area in months, judging by the overflowing trash bins and the newspapers blowing like tumbleweeds across the empty sidewalk.
Shaking his head, Holden repeated the question. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m here to finish a job,” Charlie replied coolly.
Charlie was Rebecca’s second shot after Holden had proven not to be the kind of charming hunter she was hoping for. Holden preferred to seduce and feed, letting his conquests go free. Rebecca, before coming to America, hadn’t been so considerate of whether their victims lived or died, unless she wanted to make them a vampire. She often told Holden his insistence on letting his feeds live was a sign of weakness.
Charlie, with his dark curls and gleaming blue eyes, had the alluring sex appeal no woman could resist, decade after decade. And like Rebecca, he didn’t concern himself over the lives of those he fed on. Charlie was beautiful and cold, and that was what had made him her favorite once she lost interest in Holden.
“What job? Are you doing something for Rebecca?”