The world shrunk. Those strong, scarred digits slid, lazy and slow, down the edge of the door. His thumb hooked through his belt loop. He cocked his hip in masculine invitation to look and appreciate. The grace of him sent an unfamiliar shudder through her breasts. Its power rocked her back on her heels. In all her long life, had she ever felt an erotic blow like this? Her body wanted to know how those fingers would feel.
Her own cold fingers caressed the pit of her neck, little by little trailed down her torso, unthinkingly drawing his gaze to her breasts, then to her belly and hips. A tiny smile lifted the corners of his serious mouth.
Just a little closer and she could touch all that. Just a little closer, and her past wouldn’t matter anymore.
“Won’t you come in?” he invited her, knowing fully what she was.
The squeal of brakes snapped her back to reality. A news van careened down the street toward the shelter, hot on breaking news. She dragged her gaze back to his eyes and lifted her chin. Water ran down her cheeks.
No one touched her. Such was the price of her penance and she gladly paid it. Fantasies be damned.
Ignoring a strange tug under her breastbone, her gray shoes glided forward, leaving the glowing figure behind to face the barrage of questions alone.
She really needed to kill someone tonight.
Chapter 5
The crash of a breaking window in front of her interrupted Valerie’s progress. By Lucifer’s scaly eyebrows, what now? Exasperated, she blew her bangs off of her forehead. All she had done was cut through this forgotten, garbage-strewn path in order to reach her evening’s true destination, the Governor Hotel.
A trio of baseball bats clattered to the ground in front of her. Male laughter echoed against the sides of the small alley. As she neared the mouth of the uneven passage, an unpleasant sight greeted her.
The boys from earlier tonight snickered as they reached through too widely spaced bars into the display windows of a pawn shop. Two pulled out watches and rings and shoved them into their various pockets. One grabbed for a guitar, but couldn’t quite reach it. The leader, Chad, stacked video games in his arms. Obviously, they decided to work off their frustrations from being denied their earlier prey.
Valerie shook her head. Petty larceny. If you’re going to break the law, do it big. A curse tightened her mouth. She refused to be slowed down again. She picked her way over the bats and kept walking, intent on her task.
Then they saw her.
The pack exchanged glances. Like a beast with four heads, they looked her up and down, lingering on her breasts. The excitement of theft changed to something darker and more violent. They dropped their ill-gotten goods on the ground. With the lazy superiority of youth, they followed and circled, trapping her between them.
“Well, hello there, honey,” Guitar Boy purred. Chad reached out and touched her hair. The other two, the watches and rings boys, sneered as she pushed his hand away.
“You lookin’ for a good time, darlin’?” Chad propped his fist against the old brick building, blocking her in with his arm. The rest tightened their circle, like hyenas crowding a wounded zebra. Anger and lust from his skin teased her nostrils.
Their smell and movements telegraphed their intentions. As a group, they moved, boxing her in. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No one to come to her rescue.
They would throw her against the wall. She would reel, stunned. The boys would start off with a little light brutality, moving on to rape. They needed to recover face from their earlier defeat.
Predictable. A slow, knowing smile curled her lips. Bullies were always good for a giggle.
Killing them would take hardly any time. That was her problem with young men. Once she got started, it would be so hard to stop. Like humans and their potato chips.
“If I were looking for a good time, I hardly think you are the ones who can give it to me.” She infused her voice with a warning. Would they be bright enough to sense it?
Unlikely. They possessed absolutely no sense of self-preservation.
Chad shoved her shoulder viciously, driving her toward the rough brick. Valerie smiled, her fangs still sheathed. Time to reinforce the priest’s lessons. First, don’t fight a battle with insufficient intelligence. Second, never underestimate your opponent. Third—
The air cracked as Valerie’s hand whipped out from behind her.
Before the moron could blink, the boy was draped from her effortless grip on his throat, dangling like a piece of wet string.
Shock stilled them.
“What are you?” the smallest croaked.
She disregarded the question. There was more important schooling to pass on tonight. Like her third point.
“No. No. No.” Valerie punctuated each word with a twist of her wrist, shaking the boy in the still-damp air. “Never touch without a lady’s permission.”
The taller of the watches and rings boys snatched up a fallen baseball bat. “Let him go!” He swung for her head.
Valerie caught it with her free hand. A quick end-for-end-toss and she shoved the bat into her attacker’s gut. He doubled, gagging.
“I said no, gentlemen. I meant it.” Like a teacher, she folded her lips for emphasis. What would it take to get through to these idiots?
“Chad?” Guitar Boy stammered. “Is he alive?”
She felt Chad swallow against her fingers. “So far. It won’t take much to kill him.” Call her shallow, but a taunt always made her night. Valerie stifled a chuckle. “Still want to give me a good time?”
“You would do that?” Watches and Rings stammered, his eyes so wide the whites showed all the way around.
“Are you really that stupid?” Annoyance made her fingers contract, ever so slightly, on Chad’s tender neck.
“Ma’am, please,” Chad whined from his constricted throat. “My dad’s rich. Just let us go. You can have anything you want.”
“We won’t tell nobody nothing,” Guitar Boy pleaded.
“That’s more than you offered,” she sneered. She held Chad out at full arm’s length. “Why should I be more generous than you?” She turned him so he could look at her face. Her lips curled back in an ironic smile, showing her fangs in blatant aggression. She hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. After she killed her target, she would make more time for play.
One of them whimpered, “Holy shit, she’s a vamp!”
“They are all dead,” another protested. “She’s a fake.”
Valerie couldn’t help herself. She laughed.
His friends lacked courage. At the sound of her amusement, they turned and ran, expensive sneakers slapping against the asphalt. One by one, they disappeared into the safety of a traffic-clogged street. Sweet, sweet music to her ears.
“So.” She set him down, met his frightened eyes with her own cold gaze. Time for this young man to face a truth. “Here you are. Alone. In the dark. With someone stronger and more dangerous than you. What will you do?” She put her hands on her hips, awaiting his response.
He puffed his chest and spread his legs, claiming more space on the sidewalk. “Hey, lady, look, my dad works for Radu Tepes. I’ve even met him on our yacht. I know things. You can’t hurt me. That’s against the law.” Chad swaggered a step closer.
“Kill. Killing is against the law,” she reminded him of the most salient fact of the International Treaty. “Feeding does not count as killing, especially for my kind, who does not feast on flesh.”
“I don’t consent!” he wailed.
A glimmer of sunshine teased the corner of her eye. The priest had eluded the press long enough to follow the boys. So much for a barely legal snack. Instead, she decided to reinforce her lessons.
“I can be very persuasive.” She lowered her eyelids in exaggerated pleasure.
Chad cringed when he looked into her eyes. If he’d been a dog, he would have tucked his tail and ran away yelping. Valerie could barely keep from smirking.
Stupidly, he tried another tactic.
This was just too much fun. “Are you bargaining with me, young man?” Valerie took her voice down to a dangerous growl.
Even though he topped her by a good five inches, he cowered. Desperation crossed Chad’s face. He threw the world’s worst punch at her face.
She caught his fist. Panic drained his skin of all blood and crossed his eyes. Chad blacked out and landed on the sidewalk. Not amused with his poor showing, she let go.
Valerie stroked her chin. He had to be good for something. But what?
Almost-sunlight kissed her skin, loosened muscles in her throat and chest. Surprise jolted her. Lance was here. Somehow, he’d escaped the press and his shelter and found her. He walked until they were face-to-face over the boy’s body.
For an eternity, Valerie and Lance watched each other over Chad’s still body. Despite his blazing aura, his eyes stayed frosty, until they dropped to her mouth again. Blue fire lit in their depths.
They were complete opposites. He was touched by holiness. She was awash in gore. No wonder passion flared. She ran her tongue across her lower lip.
He smiled, turning his expression into lazy sensuality. He leaned in toward her.
Valerie’s stomach fluttered like a virgin’s at his first kiss.
Chad groaned.
Lance pulled back, his eyes cooling, an expression of serious regret on his face. Glancing down at Chad, he sighed.
Despite his attraction to her, she knew he cared passionately that she not harm the idiot who lay at their feet.
No eating from someone who couldn’t give consent. Tonight, Valerie could afford to be generous.
She nodded once, acquiescing to the priest’s wishes. A corner of his mouth twitched wider in acknowledgment of her capitulation.
A smile would undo her resolve, just when she was so close to her endgame. She spun, coat billowing behind her, and leapt to the roof of the building above them. Distance was the only answer.
Chapter 6
Valerie sprinted toward her final act of contrition, the very last duty of her redemption.
A quick leap over a crumbling ledge and she landed, sure-footed and determined, on the next building. Death was coming for Radu Tepes. This final execution would at last free her from her burdens.
After all her delays, she possessed only a three-minute window of opportunity for his assassination. A clever man and an even cleverer vampire, he’d surrounded himself with an enormous entourage of attorneys, assistants, and hero-worshipping interns.
Valerie was clever, too. Three minutes was more than enough time to do what she needed to do. She reached the roof of the scalloped white building in mere seconds, not even stopping to admire the Arts and Crafts styled architecture.
The rain stopped as she dropped onto the roof of the hotel, giving her a perfect view of her surroundings. Her tiny remnant of hope said it was a sign that her fortune favored her actions.
Reporters of all kinds surrounded the hotel where every VIP in the PNC world was staying. Police and private security swarmed the hotel, keeping the peace. Dropping her head like a bloodhound, she sorted through the confusion for Radu’s scent, a distinctive blend of the sulfur of corruption with a hint of basil. Even her hardened stomach churned at the combination.
Sulfur for Radu betrayed all who came near him. Basil because he had once been great.
Following her meticulous plan, she spider-climbed down from the roof toward his sumptuous suite. When Radu entered the room, she would stake him. By the time his dust dropped, she would be long gone. She could disappear for once and for all.
His ashes would finish her duty to eliminate all those vampires who had collaborated with the Nazis. A lifetime ago for mortals, but to her, it felt like yesterday morning.
Despite Radu’s claims to have been a part of the French Resistance during the Second World War, Valerie knew exactly what he’d been doing. Dracula had been head of Hitler’s paranormal corps, and Radu had been his number one double agent. Dracula was already dead. Valerie knew that for a fact. She had arranged his death, and with her usual precision, guaranteed it had been seen by the world.
Excitement tightened her throat. This was it. With Radu’s death, she would finally be free.
Minutes ticked by. The door remained locked.
Nothing happened.
The full black clouds gathered together and dumped buckets of water over the city.
She’d failed. She had failed. Red rage hazed over her vision.
Wet and angry, Valerie dug her nails into the wall. With this last kill, her redemption at long last would have been complete.
A crowd shouting Radu’s name turned her head.
Below, the traitorous vampire stood before a white stretch limousine. Fans screamed as he waved to them. Radu held his arms out, palms flat, and with a pulsing motion, he quieted them.
“Father Soleil has made great strides toward equality for our paranormal citizens. I will join the vigil outside his shelter in a gesture of solidarity with his brave act.”
The crowd went insane. The wall under her nails shook with the noise.
Her lip curled in skeptical appraisal. Radu Tepes? Supporting someone else? Not possible.
Valerie shook the rain off her coat and watched the car nose into downtown traffic.
The only person Radu Tepes wanted in the press was himself. His vanity demanded that no one share his glory.
Swallowing her disappointment, she slithered her way along the roof, tracking the limo.
Logic cooled her anger. Radu was scrambling in Lance’s wake. When he scrambled, he got sloppy. Sloppy meant she would get another chance.
All she had to do was wait for the younger Tepes to make a mistake. He would fail at whatever he was hastily planning. After all, she knew Dracula’s brother better than anyone else.
Radu was her brother.
Valerie was Dracula.
Since her birth, she had been raised a man. She had dressed like a man, fought like a man, loved as a man, and taken revenge as a man. Earned unending notoriety as a man. For centuries, she had hidden her body, kept her secrets close, closer than even her wife and brothers.
Every action in Vlad’s life had been in the name of order, chastity, stability, regulation. Everything from war against the Ottomans to enforcing her rule of law in Transylvania to supporting Napoleon and Hitler stemmed from her drive to bend the world to her vision of peace.
Vlad Tepes, the Impaler. Dracula. Valerie Tate. Once her brother was dust, her past would no longer control her.
Chapter 7
Berlin
April 1945
A woman’s scream pierced the hallway.
“In here! Over here!” Sergeant Andrei Okopnik yelled. The echo of the scream still vibrated the Reich Chancellery walls as the Soviet squad skidded to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. The sergeant spared a quick glance over his shoulder as the men got into formation. The photography crew, lugging their bulky equipment, followed gamely after the soldiers through the dust and gunsmoke-filled air.
The largest corporal kicked the door off its hinges. Battle-hardened troops ran in. Rifles cocked, they covered every inch of the devastated room.
At one time, this space had been cozy. A small fire still crackled in the oversized fireplace and a perfectly faded red Persian carpet graced the cold floor. But now, the long overturned table and knocked-down bookshelves offered too many places for an enemy to hide.
The steady, quiet drip of blood warned the squad’s war-weary nerves.
“Who’s in here?” Okopnik barked.
A low gasp answered him first. Then a young woman with an old-fashioned cloche hat peeked from behind the table. “Was?” she whispered. “You speak German?”
He’d picked up some in their advance. “Ein bisschen.” A bit.
She grabbed one edge of the table. The soldiers tightened their grips on their weapo
ns. Everyone watched her with narrowed eyes as she struggled to her feet. Unspeakable horrors had taught them even a pale woman alone could threaten an entire squad.
She stood. As the highest rank there, Andrei looked her over, missing nothing. The misbuttoned shirt, the skirt twisted to one side, her stockings hanging from a garter strap. Wobbling in her scuffed heels around the obstacle course of the room, the woman swallowed as she saw all the guns trained on her. Her gaze focused on the sergeant and sharpened at his uniform. Caution squeezed Andrei’s shoulders. Something cunning lived behind those dark eyes.
“I killed one of the monsters.” Her hand steady, she pointed toward the table. Blood tattooed her arms and one side of her face.
“What’s your name?”
“V-V-Valerie,” she whispered. “What will you do to me?”
Okopnik jerked his head at a private. The boy, with a cautious tread, flanked her to look where she pointed. His eyebrows rose.
“He’s very dead,” the youngster reported.
Indicating the rest should watch the woman, Andrei walked over, his weapon at the ready.
A man’s body sprawled on the faded carpet. Inhumanly long canine teeth stuck out from his mouth. Hands with clawlike yellowed nails clutched the fireplace poker shoved through his chest. Dracula’s trademark enormous diamonds, three to each ear, sparkled amid the blood.
If a corpse could look surprised, it did.
“You did this?” he asked, cautiously admiring.
“Yes, just as you got here,” she answered, her voice shaking. “He vas going to bite me, drink my blooood,” she slurred her words into a mockery of cinema vampires. She pointed to a fallen desk nameplate with the name “Tepes” inscribed in bold brass.
“He was Dracula!” Her voice broke on the last word. She buried her face in her soiled hands. Blood smeared over her features.
The photography crew shoved through the door. They were in place and clicking madly as the body decomposed. One by one, flashbulbs exploded, making everyone blink and jump as the fragile glass crashed to the floor.
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