by E. S. Moore
TO WALK THE NIGHT
I always looked down on those Purebloods who risked the night, putting their own lives at risk, for what? A fun night out with danger lurking around every corner? A chance to play supe without actually becoming one? Or was it more, a deep-rooted wish that a monster would strike out and end some unnamed torment?
Was it really so different than what I was doing? I was risking my life every time I went out. If someone were to ask me, I would say I didn’t want to die. But was that really the truth?
I wasn’t sure. You didn’t go walking into a vampire House alone if you didn’t have a desire to die, even a small one.
None of this was helping. I was mentally torturing myself for no better reason than to forget the real problem I was facing.
The Luna Cult.
I knew I was crazy to even consider walking into their Den, weapons or no weapons, without knowing exactly what they wanted from me. There were rumors that they had one or more werewolves in their midst, rogues who had managed to escape the grasp of vampire Houses. If that was true, I was in for some serious trouble. No wolf would ever want to deal with a vampire like me.
I had been doing this for a long time, killing vampires and werewolves, never once considering that one of them might not be as bad as they seemed. I could see no way in which the Cult would ever want to befriend me. It was more likely they wanted me dead.
And there was only one way I was going to find out... .
To Walke The Night
E.S. MOORE
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING CORP.
http://www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
TO WALK THE NIGHT
Title Page
Dedication
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
Teaser chapter
1
Copyright Page
To Lena, for suggesting I go back and work on “that vampire book” again.
1
Blood dripped from the edge of my blade, falling soundlessly in the deathly quiet room. Bodies lay strewn about the floor, heads separated from torsos, holes punctured through temples. Every last one of them died by my hand. Now only one remained.
I crouched motionless behind an overturned table. My gun, a modified Glock 17, was empty, had been for a while. Most of the kills had been clean. One bullet to the head, one slash with my sword, and it was over.
Werewolves and vampires couldn’t handle silver. It was poison to them. It attacked the taint in their blood, burned in their veins, paralyzing them so that they were helpless for the killing blow.
Everything I fought with was made of silver. My bullets, my katana blade, the blades of my knives, they were all crafted from pure silver.
And thanks to vampire regulations, they were all illegal.
A faint slither of cloth over skin caught my ears, but I remained hidden. The gentle tap of Count Paltori’s boots on the wooden floor seemed to come from right behind me. I held still, knowing it was a lie.
Paltori was a Count of some moderate ability. Given time, he might have turned his Fledgling House into something of a power. He could throw sounds, make his voice seem to come from anywhere in the room, and make the sound of his footfalls echo down empty hallways. If I hadn’t done my research on him, I never would have known, and this entire battle could have gone the other way.
“I commend you,” Paltori said. His voice slithered through my head. “It’s obvious this isn’t your first time. It’s a shame it will be your last.”
A droplet of blood slid down the blade of my sword, then hung from the tip. It quivered there, elongated, and then dropped with a faint plink.
I scarcely dared to blink. While I had the advantage of silver, Paltori was still dangerous. His wolves had gone down relatively easy. There had only been five of them, which was impressive for a Fledgling House. He had two vampires to call his own as well, and they lay among the corpses of the wolves, dead just like everyone else. Even his Pureblood servants—men and women who had chosen to live as food and slaves rather than to suffer the more violent end most Purebloods faced when captured by a vampire Count—were among the dead.
A werewolf ’s body lay only a few feet away. She had been pretty before shifting. My knife had taken her in the throat, paralyzing her seconds before a silver bullet to the brain finished her off for good.
“I would have your name,” Paltori went on. “You aren’t like the others. You are special. I want to know who it is I kill.”
I tried to ignore the false sounds of his movements and instead tried to focus on what was really there. I knew he was somewhere on the other side of the table, probably close by. There was a reason he was stalling. He was scared. No one walked into a vampire House and did what I just did.
No one but me anyway.
I shifted my weight and the leather of my coat groaned ever so slightly. All sounds in the room abruptly cut off. There was a heartbeat of silence. I held my breath, knowing I had allowed him to pinpoint my position behind the long banquet table. The low chuckle that came next sounded as if it had come from right behind my ear.
“I can hear you.” Underneath the silky-smooth sound of Paltori’s voice was a harsh edge. I had ruined him. He knew no matter what happened here, whether he lived or died, he would never regain the power he had lost. His House was done.
His anger gave him away. I tensed and sprang to my feet just as Count Paltori leaped over the table, his own sword swinging down in a deadly arc.
Our weapons met with a clang, my softer silver giving way to his much sturdier steel. His blade gouged my own, and I jerked the sword back before he could damage it further. He smiled, exposing blood-smeared fangs.
“Where did you get the silver?” he asked, falling back into a fighter’s stance. “It isn’t exactly common these days.”
I smiled, exposing my own teeth. He probably already knew who I was but wouldn’t want to believe it until he had proof. I was happy to oblige. The blood oozed from my gums as my fangs elongated.
Paltori’s eyes widened. “Lady Death,” he said. His hand shook where he gripped his sword.
I ground my teeth at the name but didn’t say anything. I hated that name. It was the name the vampire Houses had given me, one that was spat like a curse by every Count in the city. It was the only name they knew me by. No one who heard my true name, Kat Redding, lived to tell about it later.
Paltori feigned to the left and then darted to the right.
I was ready for him. I spun past him, reaching into my coat as I went by. My hand closed around a small square packet; I used the edge of my blade to cut into it as I came to a stop, facing Paltori. His face was red with rage.
“You killed my House,” he said. “I have nothing left.”
I smiled at him but didn’t answer. I simply waited.
Count Paltori growled low in his throat and raised his sword for another charge. I ripped the packet the rest of the way open and threw it in his face.
Silver dust burst from the packet as it struck him. I ducked out of the way, closing my eyes to the poisonous cloud. Paltori screamed and his sword fell
from nerveless fingers. A moment later, the heavy thump of his body followed.
I waited a few minutes for the dust to settle. Getting it into my eyes wouldn’t kill me outright, but it would put a pretty big damper on my night. It would paralyze me just as it had Count Paltori, not to mention the fact that it would hurt like hell.
When I rose and turned, Paltori was lying facedown on the floor, twitching. I rolled him over with my boot. I wanted him to see who it was who killed him.
“I would ask you if you had any last words,” I said. My eyes were stinging from the remains of dust in the air. “But unfortunately, you aren’t in much of a condition to speak them.” I raised my sword.
Paltori’s red-tinged eyes widened. His lips peeled back and a low moan issued from between his clenched teeth.
Then his head rolled away as I severed it from his neck.
I looked around at the mess around me and my stomach did a flip. So much blood. All of it was on my hands now.
Turning away from the massacre, I began making my way from room to room, making sure I had killed every last person loyal to House Paltori. I never left anyone behind, not even the Purebloods who loyally waited on the vampires. Leaving a single loyalist alive could easily bring down my ruin.
It wasn’t until I reached the basement that I found the first victims of Paltori’s lusts. The lights were off, but I could see well enough. Cages lined every wall, their bars grimy and stained. The cages were just big enough for the Purebloods to stand, but not so big as to let them move around freely. Water dishes were on the floor, and a bed of hay lined each cage.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly between my teeth. These weren’t vampire loyalists. These were people who were forced to feed the vampires—both in blood and lust. They weren’t a threat to me.
The Purebloods were all staring at me with frightened eyes. They were all nude and sported multiple scars from repeated feedings. Very few had any modesty left. Those who did covered themselves as best they could with their hands. Most of them simply turned and offered themselves up to me.
It was all I could do to keep from being sick.
There was a table by the stairs and a set of keys rested on top of it. I snatched them up and began the process of unlocking all the cage doors. The Purebloods cowered in their corners, afraid I was going to punish them for some unknown offense.
“Go,” I said as I opened the last cage. “Get out of here.”
The Purebloods stared up at me, none of them moving. They had been treated like animals for so long, they didn’t know what to do.
“I said go!” I shouted, my teeth sprouting from my gums in a gush of blood. I let my inner monster show, let them see the danger they were in if they stayed.
Someone screamed and they bolted for the door like a pack of wild beasts. They scrambled over each other, trampling anyone who was too slow. More blood was spilled, this time blood untainted by the curse of the werewolf or vampire.
My hunger raged within me. I fought hard to keep it in check. These pathetic creatures weren’t food. Not for me. I couldn’t give in to my darker nature.
I trembled and turned away from the fleeing mass of humanity. I hungered, but I wasn’t like Paltori. I could control my lusts. I had to.
Minutes later, I found myself alone in the basement. No sounds came from above. The blood was already drying on me.
I let out my pent-up breath and wiped my sword clean with a rag I found in the corner. I sheathed the blade and went about gathering the rest of my weapons. I checked each room once more to make sure no one was hiding or locked away in some chest somewhere, then made my way out into the cool night air.
Now that the killing was done, I was exhausted. Just because I was one of the creatures of the night didn’t mean I was impervious to the rigors of my craft. I wore down just like everyone else, though I lasted a whole lot longer than someone without a blood taint.
I made my slow way to my hidden motorcycle, a modified Honda DN-01. It was left untouched behind a small copse of trees just off the road leading to the Paltori mansion. Everything about it was black, including the piping. It was damn near invisible in the shadows of night.
It started up with hardly a sound, thanks to special modifications done by the only person in the world who knew who I really was. He was the one person I trusted with my secret. Without him, I would have nothing.
The roads were mostly empty this hour. Only a few vampires roamed the streets. Most had already taken to their homes for the coming day. Many of them probably were already in bed with a choice Pureblood or two. Chances were, the Purebloods wouldn’t survive until dawn.
I was the only one who seemed to be doing anything about it. The Pureblood police didn’t meddle in vampire affairs. They left the supernaturals to police themselves.
Humans as a whole had pretty much rolled over during the Uprising. They gave the vampires the night, hoping they would be left alone during the day. It worked to a point. At least until a vampire or werewolf showed up in the dead of night and killed your daughter.
I put the city proper behind me as quickly as possible. Just because the day was coming didn’t mean it was safe to be out and about. Werewolves weren’t restricted by the sun like vampires, though they tended to do their hunting during the evening hours.
And, of course, I couldn’t be out in the sun either, being a vampire and all.
Soon, the Purebloods would be out in force, living their lives like the Uprising hadn’t happened. The night to them no longer existed. It was a time of danger, a time to be forgotten. As long as the monsters left them alone, nothing that happened during the night mattered to them anymore.
And that was where I came in. The vampire Houses were a plague. They killed and maimed thousands for the sheer pleasure of it. They fed on many, raped and starved the others. Purebloods were nothing but animals to them, things to be used and discarded.
I couldn’t let that happen. I had seen the worst of the worst firsthand. Death wasn’t just my trade.
It was my life.
2
The house sat at the end of a long, sloping driveway. It couldn’t be seen from the road. Trees lined the property, obscuring the house no matter which way you came at it. Only the driveway gave any indication that anyone lived up there.
It was home.
The house had been built before the Uprising, but not so long ago to make it old. It looked like any other house on any other street, but there were subtle differences that a normal house wouldn’t have.
For one, there were secret compartments near all the doors where the keys were kept. I refused to take keys with me wherever I went, knowing that if I were to be captured, someone might eventually find the lock in which the key fit. I couldn’t let that happen. Not again.
Also, instead of the single basement most houses sported, my place had a second, soundproofed basement. It was the only room in the house to which I didn’t have a key. It was Ethan’s domain, his laboratory, if you will.
Ethan did everything down there. He modified my Glock, as well as my Honda. He crafted my sword, my knives. He pretty much made sure I had everything I could ever want when it came to vampire and werewolf hunting.
I pulled into the attached garage and shut off my motorcycle. The night fell instantly silent. The closest house was a good two miles away. I could scream all I wanted here and no one would hear me, which was just the way I liked it.
I was glad to be home. I was mentally exhausted, a common side effect from my work. I had been planning the takedown of House Paltori for a good three weeks before I actually was ready to go through with it. Even then, things had gone terribly wrong far too fast. I should have taken Paltori down first, but one of his lackey’s had gotten in the way and the Count had been able to avoid me.
At least until the end.
But I made it out alive, killing Count Paltori and all his wolves and vamps in the process. That was all that mattered in the long run. They wouldn�
��t hurt anybody ever again.
The door leading from the garage into the house was locked. I lifted the light switch, box and all, and inside was the key to the side door. I unlocked the door, replaced the key, and headed inside my sanctuary.
All the lights were off inside, which wasn’t too surprising. Although I shared my home with Ethan, he tended to spend most of his time in his lab, working. He was the only friend I really had. I had saved him from becoming vampire food years ago and he just sort of stuck with me. I liked having him around, even if he was a Pureblood.
I didn’t need light to see by, but I flipped on the kitchen light anyway. It was close to dawn and Ethan would soon be making his way upstairs for bed. He, like me, preferred the night to do his work. I’m not sure if it was a product of living with a night-walking vampire, or if he just preferred the stars over the sun. Either way, it was his cycle, and I kind of liked having someone around the house when I was up and prowling.
“I’m home,” I hollered just in case Ethan had called it an early night. I wasn’t sure what he did down in the lab when he wasn’t working on my gear. There was only so much he could do, especially when I was between kill runs and he had nothing to work on.
I didn’t press him, however. What he did on his own time was his business. I wouldn’t want him to know everything I did in my private time, so I had to respect his.
I shrugged out of my coat and tossed it onto the back of a dining room chair. My gun and shoulder holster hit the table next. My back was sore and my hands were still stinging from the impact of Paltori’s blade meeting mine. All I wanted was a good soak in the bath to wash both the blood and the exhaustion from my body.