Last Breath

by Debra Dunbar

  “Put it in Charisma.” I was vain, but not so vain that I’d take any of those other faults over ugly.

  I kept rolling. “Thirteen. Thirteen. Ten. Fifteen. Fourteen.”

  Okay, none of that was particularly stellar. I could take the ten in constitution, and at least be above average in the other attributes.

  Zac stared at the paper then threw down his pen. “How about we do another method? Otherwise you’re going to be dead by the end of next Wednesday’s game.”

  I put myself in his capable hands, and by the time we were done, I had the makings of a reasonably proficient half-dragon fighter. We’d finished several cups of coffee. The waiter was making not-so-subtle hints that he wanted new customers at our table, and I was eyeing the setting sun thinking we should get going before the vampires started arriving.

  It was dark by the time Zac walked me up to my apartment, clearly lingering in wait for an invitation to come in. I thought about it. We’d had a good time tonight, even with the awkward, rocky start. I didn’t want to push this too fast, though. And I had that list of magical components to research, plus the address I’d found in Ronald’s pocket. I put my key in the lock and turned to face Zac and thank him for a lovely evening. He must have seen the handwriting on the wall, because before a word came out, his mouth was on mine.

  It was a nice kiss. Okay, it was a better-than-nice kiss. The guy knew what he was doing, and I’d had a ridiculously long dry spell. Before I knew it, my arms were around his neck and I was plastered to Zac, kissing him back with abandon. Maybe I should invite him in instead of spending the night researching the dead guy. It’s not like I was friends with this Ronald. For all I knew he’d summoned a demon and improperly banished it. For all I knew he’d gotten what he deserved. I liked Zac, and he clearly liked me. A lot. I could invite him in, drag him off to bed, and not come up for air until the sun rose. It sounded like a great way to cap off the evening. Besides, no one had appointed me the supernatural investigator for Baltimore. It’s not like I was a paladin or anything.

  Although I kinda was. And as much as the idea of sex appealed to me, I was better off buying a vibrator than leading Zac down a path I wasn’t sure I wanted to travel.

  So I pulled away, running my hands across his shoulders to rest on his chest. He wasn’t much taller than me, his beautiful hazel eyes nearly level with mine. “Wednesday?”

  He swallowed hard. “Wednesday.” His voice was husky, his hands shifting lower to cup my rear and press my pelvis against his. “Wednesday. The half-dragon will make her debut.”

  I smiled, pulling away once more and turning to unlock my door. “She’ll be there, wings and all.”

  I was still smiling as I closed the door and leaned against it, listening to Zac’s footsteps on the stairs. This wasn’t crazy love-at-first-sight, or even lust-at-first-sight, but there was a spark of something between us. Maybe it would go somewhere, maybe it wouldn’t. Either way, I was glad I hadn’t cancelled on Zac tonight.

  Chapter 5

  I CHEWED ON my lip as I looked at my phone and re-read the crime stats for the area around Old Town Mall. Sarge hadn’t been exaggerating when he had warned me against going there alone at night. But night it was, and unless I wanted to wait until morning I was going to have to brave gang and drug violence. Hopefully not alone, though. I’d never have considered dragging Zac to such a place, but a vampire was different. They were the big scary in the night, and they also had dealings with the local gangs and drug lords that might make them recognizably off limits, and thus me off limits by association. Sarge had suggested I bring Dario, but there was one problem with that idea—I didn’t know where the vampire was. I’d been searching for the last hour with no luck and was about to give up.

  One more pub. If Dario wasn’t here, I’d need to go out on my own and see what the address on this slip of paper revealed. Hopefully I wouldn’t get shot. I was fairly certain I could hold my own when it came to hand-to-hand combat, and I was pretty good at dealing with assailants carrying knives. Guns were a whole different thing, though. I needed to ask Mom to send up my vest from back home. I hated wearing that thing. It wasn’t exactly standard issue for us Templars, but I’d picked one up while training to fight manticores. Seems Kevlar was just as good at protecting against poisoned darts as it was bullets.

  Vampires weren’t impervious to bullets but the projectiles didn’t kill them. Shooting a vampire just pissed them off, and a pissed off vampire was a deadly one. Besides, I was thinking with Dario around there wouldn’t be any shooting going on at all.

  Not that I was completely sure he’d accompany me even if I did manage to track him down. I hadn’t heard from him since our last encounter with the necromancer, and leaving a bunch of money in my tampon box didn’t exactly constitute forgiveness.

  I’d betrayed his trust. I’d withheld information and vampires had died. No matter what I did, I wasn’t sure anything would make up for that. He might still have a “thing” for me, but that didn’t mean he’d ever forgive me for what I’d done. I should let it go, let this… whatever we had die a slow death. I should just head out to Old Town Mall on my own. I had a sword. I had skills. There was no reason for me to be trying to hunt down Dario to ask him to accompany me. One more place, then I’d assume this was a sign to leave well enough alone.

  Reilly’s was a typical Baltimore pub with over twenty microbrew specialties on tap and sports events on every television. I weaved my way through the front tables and the bar area to the back where the dart games drew quite a crowd, even on a Saturday evening. I looked about, then sighed as I headed around the side room to the exit. And that’s where I saw him. His back was to me, but I could sense the static-feel of vampire anywhere, and I’d come to know Dario’s particular energy, even if I hadn’t recognized his broad shoulders.

  I was a Templar. I probably felt different to him than the humans around me. He must have sensed me, but he didn’t budge an inch. I realized why when I saw that he had company. It had never bothered me before. Dario was always with a different woman, picking up his meal of choice for the evening. I’d still sent him drinks and notes on napkins, not caring whether or not he had a “date.”

  But this time it bothered me. I wasn’t sure why. A vampire had to eat. She was a meal. And if she was more… well, that was none of my business. Still, I hesitated. The woman across from him was leaning forward, spilling her breasts practically out of her top. She tilted her head and laughed, flicking a strand of glossy, ebony hair behind one ear.

  Awkward. It was like walking up on an ex-boyfriend while he was romancing a new girlfriend. Dario was busy. He didn’t have time to escort me around a bad section of town. I should have left. But I was here, and I seemed to have a masochistic streak this evening, so I moved myself in their direction, smiling apologetically at the golden-skinned brunette as I stopped by their table.

  “Hey. Can I talk to you for a quick second?” I asked Dario.

  He hesitated just enough to make me feel like a vinyl siding salesman calling at dinnertime. “I’m kind of busy right this moment. Is it important?”

  I felt my cheeks heat to a level that could incinerate paper. After what had happened I didn’t blame him if he was giving me the cold shoulder.

  What should I say? I could hardly tell him that a man died at the hands of a demon in a park this afternoon, and I was checking out an address I’d found in his pocket. That wasn’t vampire business. He probably wouldn’t care one bit. The only reason I was here was because Sarge suggested I shouldn’t go alone and said I should have Dario accompany me.

  I wanted a vampire to have my back. I wanted this vampire to have my back, but he was busy, and I wasn’t sure the limits of our friendship at this point.

  “No. I’m just heading to Old Town Mall to check something out and thought you might want to go. No problem. Talk to you later. Maybe.”

  I walked away, feeling like a total idiot.

  “Who was that?” I heard
the brunette ask Dario.

  “A work associate. We did a project together last week, but it’s wrapped up.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw the woman turn to look at me. “She’s kind of weird. I think she has a thing for you.”

  I walked out the door before I could hear Dario’s response. I didn’t want to hear it. This woman was his dinner, his one-time meal for the evening, but something inside me worried that maybe she’d be more. Did he care enough about her to make her a blood slave? She might not live long, but there would still be a level of intimacy between the two of them, the idea of which made me want to pull out my sword and start slicing and dicing.

  “Aria! Wait!”

  I froze in place as Dario jogged up to me.

  “You do know that Old Town Mall isn’t a mall anymore, right?” He asked, standing close enough to me that I could smell the cinnamon and myrrh scent of vampire.

  “I know. A demon killed some guy in the park today and he had this address in his pocket. The guy, I mean, not the demon.” Crap, I could barely think straight with him standing this close. “I wanted to check it out.”

  He tilted his head and gave me a lopsided smile. “It’s probably a drug pick-up spot. If any of the local businessmen give you grief, mention my name. Okay?”

  I loved that he didn’t coddle me, or forbid me to go and fuss as if I couldn’t take care of myself. He’d seen me in action. He knew I could take care of myself, but he still gave me a trump card to play if I needed.

  “Thanks. It’ll probably just be a quick in and out. No big deal. And I’ve got my sword.” I hesitated, not sure how to ask him about the other thing on my mind—well, the other thing that didn’t have to do with dark-haired beauty back at his table. “Sarge… he came to see me tonight and I’m worried.”

  The vampire sighed, as if he had been dreading this conversation. “I don’t know what to say, Aria. That’s between him and Geraldo. Sarge is a grown man, a consenting adult. He gets to choose how he lives his life.”

  “Even if that’s death?” I shot back, mad at the situation. “He’s addicted. He can’t walk away. And he’s going to die because of it.”

  Dario blew out an exasperated puff of air. “People die all the time. They’re mortals. They die rock climbing, drunk driving, from eating too much red meat. They die smoking, base jumping, walking down the stairs. Are you suggesting Geraldo should cut Sarge off? What if Sarge spends the next year miserable only to get hit by a meteor? Doesn’t Sarge have the right to decide how he lives and how he dies?”

  “Not when that decision is tainted by an addiction that is reinforced every time you feed.” I caught my breath and looked back at the pub door, where Dario’s date waited. “Why can’t you all just do the one-night stand thing only? There are no lasting effects. You all get fed and no one dies.”

  Sorrow flashed in the vampire’s eyes. “Because we get lonely, too. We still long for human companionship. It’s more than blood. There’s something life-giving about being close to a human, something that holds back the darkness and the hunger.”

  I felt for them, I really did, but humans eventually died in this exchange. Every single time. “So you hold back the darkness for six months, more if you have good control, then one night the human dies and you run out to do it all over again? How is that beneficial to either vampires or humans?”

  Dario winced. “We don’t ‘run out to do it all over again.’ We grieve. You have no idea how much we grieve over the loss of a blood slave. And knowing we’re the ones who killed them makes it harder. Even the worst among us has feelings when it comes to their blood slaves. For some of us those feelings are what you would call love.”

  I could barely breathe as I listened to his words. He’d offered this to me. Did that mean his feelings for me ran in that direction? The whole thing was a tragedy. We were a tragedy. And I didn’t like tragedy, not one bit.

  Dario reached out a hand and tugged at the end of my braid, a sad smile on his face. “I haven’t taken a blood slave in over a hundred years. That’s how painful it is to lose one. That’s how much we grieve.”

  There was a moment, charged with emotions that ricocheted between us. I swallowed hard and stepped back a pace, feeling my rear press against the brick wall of the pub. “I don’t want Sarge to die. I don’t want to never see him again and know he’s met his end. It… It taints the sympathy I have for vampires as a species.”

  His smile faded as he turned away. “We are who we are. There are times when we will seem to be heroes, and times when we will seem to be monsters. We are both.”

  I watched him walk to the pub door, the streetlight highlighting his broad shoulders and his smooth, dark skin. Without another look my way, he vanished through the doorway—away from me and toward the beauty who waited for him inside.

  Chapter 6

  FAR FROM THE typical branched out building with anchor stores, Old Town Mall was on a brick street that had been blocked off from vehicular traffic. Lining the broad walkway was a series of boarded up shops. Graffiti covered the brick and the plywood. Papers blew about the streets and down the narrow alleyways. I’d been in some rough sections of Baltimore, but this seemed worse. There was an abandoned, ghost-town feel to the area that the ’hoods on the west side lacked.

  It was dark. Seriously dark with no working street lights, the moonlight blocked by the abandon storefronts. I wanted to use magical light, not only to figure out which store was the one on my slip of paper, but so I didn’t trip over a loose brick and faceplant into the ground. I didn’t, though. I didn’t even pull the non-magical flashlight out of my bag. There was something about this place that demanded it remain in the dark.

  My footsteps were soft but they echoed against the pathway. Where were the dealers? The junkies? Where was anybody? I’d expected shadows darting between buildings, or surely a hooded figure watching me from the curb. Instead I got the feeling that nothing alive remained here.

  Well, nothing human anyway. Something was watching me. I could feel eyes on me as I made my way down the empty streets. I didn’t get the static feel of vampires, but instead a coldness that ran deep through me to the bone, aching sharpest at the scar on my side. That ache was more nerve-wracking than the prospect of drug dealers and junkies with guns and knives.

  I finally pulled the flashlight from my purse and held it more as a weapon than for the light it gave off. Just in case, I had my sword in the other hand, at the ready as I walked. Sarge had said there was a revitalization project in the works, and the presence of a few bulldozers backed that up, but heavy equipment was as far as it went. Most of the buildings remained standing, and those that didn’t looked as though nature had done the demolition and not construction equipment.

  I repeated the building number under my breath, shining my light upward along doorways. Half the buildings didn’t have numbers, and given the chipped, peeling nature of the ones that did I wasn’t sure which one five-twenty-four was. Taking a guess, I approached one. The door had two-by-fours nailed in random angles across the frame. I tested the door itself with the butt of my flashlight and nearly had a heart attack when it swung inward.

  The light revealed nothing beyond dust and broken shelves as far as I could see, but I wanted to check further. Wedging myself between the two-by-fours, I squeezed through the tight space and into the old store. It looked to have been some sort of gallery. The front room was spacious with bent metal easels past the broken shelving. Electrical wires sprang from chipped plaster, above where paintings must have once hung.

  It took me a few seconds to realize that the energy inside the building was… normal. I still felt as if I were watched, but the chill was gone. Walking backward, I squeezed through the door and stood directly in front of the building. Then I edged the way I’d come down the sidewalk until I hit the point where my side ached and the cold ran through me once more. It was as if someone had drawn a line in the pavement that the cold energy could not cross. I took a few s
teps forward and again it vanished. I still felt watched, but I got the impression whoever it was couldn’t cross this invisible line, that they were waiting for the fence to come down so they could spring.

  I scraped my foot along the brick but saw no symbols. A magical circle worked both ways—as a method to keep energy and spirits contained within and to keep them out. There were many magical workings that were safer conducted inside a circle where stray energy couldn’t muck up the results. And, of course, there were times when a putting yourself into the cage of a circle kept the big and bad from ripping you to shreds. Temporarily, that is. Eventually you had to come out and most supernatural creatures were very good at waiting.

  But there were no sigils, no symbols, no runes. What kind of circle could hold energy back while remaining so… open?

  I returned to the building, figuring the answer would be at this address on the slip of paper from Ronald’s pocket. Inside, I searched the far recesses of the old gallery, finding nothing but a pile of broken furniture, dust, and old shelving.

  As I made my way around the front room of the building, something moved in the corner. I jumped, poising my sword to strike as I swung my flashlight around. It was a rat. The creature stared at me with eyes reflecting crimson in the light. Then it turned and left, deciding I wasn’t a threat.

  I turned to leave too, but a faint, familiar scent held me in place. Sage.

  Those who followed the various ceremonial magic paths didn’t rely as heavily upon the herb as the Native Americans, or even Wiccans, did but that didn’t mean we didn’t occasionally find it useful. Sage was for protection. Smudging rid the magical space of bad spirits. Yes, it had other uses, but in my experience, sage only came into play when you were about to practice in an area with a sketchy supernatural history—or when you needed to clean up after a ritual gone wrong.

  Of course, if you practiced black magic a ritual gone wrong was often a ritual gone right.