by Devyn Quinn
“A true demon can sense these things,” Sam Chen said. “They’ll go right around you if they know you’re packing that kind of heat, mostly because they don’t want to mess with the hard targets.”
Jesse nodded. “I suppose that makes sense.” She thought back on past times, realizing why some people or places had given her the heebie-jeebies. These were the ones who would be spared as the threat of the Telave spread. Amid the darkness to come, perhaps people would stand a chance. That she could hold a blessed silver object without damage reassured her that she wasn’t entirely lost.
A deep frown darkened Reyen’s features. “There’s no sense in the undead.” He turned his unblinking gaze straight at Jesse. “They’re an abomination.”
Jesse was tired of his insults, all of which had been aimed her way since she’d walked into the bar. “I still have my soul, and I’m the one in control,” she said, making sure she spoke clearly and steadily.
“Actually, I’m inclined to believe her,” Sam Chen added. “Consanguines might look like the person whose body they inhabit, but they seem to retain very few of the individual’s memories or personality.”
Jesse felt her blood go cold. The question she’d repeatedly asked herself had an answer. “What’s a Consanguine?”
Sam Chen cocked a knowing brow. “To understand that, you have to have a grasp of the vampire hierarchy. Needless to say, it’s a complicated one. Highly ritualized and rigidly controlled. You already know it takes more than a few bites to become infected.”
She grimaced. “I try not to think about that part.”
Maddox frowned but said nothing. He was clearly resigned to her genuinely wanting to know what they were up against.
Sam took up where he’d left off. “Leading the collective are the Monarchs, the so-called crowned heads who rule over all vampires. As for their origins, that is kind of murky. The common belief is the Monarchs are an ancient race, those who were cast out of heaven and fell to Earth. Their years span not mere centuries, but millennia. It’s the blood of these foul angels that is supposed to have given birth to the demonic plague.”
Sam’s dark brown gaze collided with hers. “Surrounding the Monarch are the Consanguines. These are demons old enough to have gained enough experience to form an identity. They pretty much have the ability to move among the human race virtually undetected.”
Jesse’s breath caught. By now her heart was pounding so fiercely, she couldn’t think. “Which might explain why Amanda and I were so easily taken in by the guys who picked us up. They looked and acted normal.”
“Right.”
“So is there a way to find and kill this Monarch? It seems to me if you want to kill a hive, you go after the queen.”
Reyen snorted in a rude and obvious manner. “Don’t you think we’re trying to do that?” he snapped. “We haven’t exactly been sitting around twiddling our thumbs, waiting for you to come and state the obvious.”
Maddox immediately laid a protective hand on her shoulder. His touch immediately scorched her skin. “Lay off, Reyen. I remember a time when you and I didn’t know what the hell was going on, either. And what about Sam? You think he came into this knowing everything?”
Eyes going narrow, Reyen glowered. “I would’ve thought that demon inside you told you all you needed to know,” he prodded in a nasty tone. “Maddox told us it whispered things in your mind.” Making sure she noticed his move, he fingered the hilt of his knife. “How do we know it isn’t going to whisper ways for you to take us out when we’re not looking?”
Clenching her fists in her lap, she silently reminded herself to maintain control. There was no reason to let Reyen push her into blowing her cool. Stoop to his level and he wouldn’t hesitate to crush her.
“I wouldn’t have been in that cemetery last night if I was on their side.” She made it a point to keep her voice low and even.
A ridge of muscle tightened Reyen’s jaw. His lower lip jutted out, giving him the look of an obstinate mule. His body looked rock hard, every tendon locked into place. He’d already made up his mind, and nothing was going to change it.
“That might have been a ruse,” he accused. “Something to throw us off the scent. It seems a little odd for you to turn up just when the Monarchs are beginning to expand their territories. The only thing standing between them and the humans is us. If we fall, there’s no one to take our place.”
Jesse’s pulse started to pound. Irritation twisted inside her. No matter what she said, he didn’t seem willing to believe her. Talking to the Indian was like butting her head against a concrete wall. It would accomplish nothing, and all she’d get for her trouble was one big headache.
Now was not the time to go into what exactly she might be and whose side she was on. She suspected mere words wouldn’t sway Reyen, anyway. She was going to have to prove herself worthy by standing against the Telave.
The words popped out of her mouth before she could stop them. “So let’s go kill a vampire.”
Chapter 8
Looking around, Jesse rubbed her hands together to stave off the chill winding its way around her spine. There hadn’t really been any time to think or plan the coming attack.
I’m actually going to be a part of this, she thought.
But thinking about killing a vampire and actually doing it were two different things.
Gathering her nerve, she squared her shoulders. She knew Reyen was expecting her to freak out, at the very least. He’d already made several disparaging remarks about her abilities as they departed Big Mike’s. He called her demon-girl and mosquito-ass, plus a whole other slew of put-downs she didn’t care to remember.
Her jaw tightened. I won’t flake or freeze, she promised herself. If she wanted to be a part of the team, she had to prove she could hold her own.
The French Quarter transformed at the stroke of midnight, somehow changing from a popular tourist destination into a whole other world populated by things that went bump in the night.
Although such things weren’t that obvious or easy to find by day, Jesse was astonished by the occult-themed businesses that rapidly sprang to life once the night began its descent toward dawn. It was almost as if the old buildings populating the region peeled away the masks they wore by day to reveal an entirely different—and blacker—façade. A store selling common tourist items by day abruptly morphed into a voodoo shop peddling spells and other charms. Another might offer a tarot or palm reading to passersby. But the most astonishing transformation took place in some of the bars.
By day, many catered to regular tourists and locals. Around midnight, some of them changed—and not for the better. Average-looking people were fewer and farther between as a new breed of night crawlers hit the streets. Their looks ranged from men in long medieval-style frock coats to women corseted in tight-fitting bondage-style gear. Some were dressed moderately; others were extreme to the nth degree. Their faces were pale, deathly white. The irises of their eyes were also white. More than a few sported elaborate sets of fangs. They drifted toward the underground clubs like lemmings drawn toward the cliffs, that strange brew of humans who actually believed in—and wanted to become—vampires.
To widen the net, Reyen, Sam Chen, and Maddox had split up. Each man had taken a different tactic for cruising the street. Reyen hated to be on foot, so he’d taken to his motorcycle, riding his massive Harley. He gunned his engine as people tried to cross the street around him, sometimes grazing some of the more extreme-looking Goths.
Sam Chen didn’t like exposure, so he’d holed up in his car. The massive old Pontiac Grand Am was a classic, almost forty years old, and in pristine condition. On the narrow streets, the car looked like an ocean liner trying to sail in a mud puddle.
Maddox didn’t seem to be the owner of any transportation. He’d settled for working the streets on foot. Dressed in his work clothes, he actually stuck out like a sore thumb. But nobody seemed to take any notice of the scruffy man.
Cigarette dangl
ing from his mouth, Maddox wandered to some of the seedier shops. He had his palm read at one place and bought some strange trinkets from another. He even stopped to make small talk with a couple of tramps who were cruising for cash instead of blood.
Jesse drifted with the flow of people haunting the streets, going neither here nor there. Although Maddox had wanted her to stick close to him, Reyen had other ideas. He wanted to use her as bait, to see if the undead would pick up on the demon inside, and whether they would accept her as one of their own—or reject her. It didn’t take a lot of brainpower to figure out that Reyen considered her disposable. Nevertheless, she’d helped override Maddox’s protest by siding with the Indian. She wanted a piece of the action, and if acting as a lure would help, then she would do it.
It’s not as if I have anything to lose, she reminded herself.
The vibe of the neighborhood had altered from open and welcoming to closed and suspicious. People who didn’t understand or accept the Goth or the occult weren’t really welcome. The average person made a wide berth around the freaks, hurrying away to find a safer, saner place to be. Even the fabric of the night it-self seemed to have made a change. The sky seemed darker, lower to the ground. The air around her looked murkier and felt heavier. With a history steeped in the occult, New Orleans was a prime breeding ground for the evil undead to spread their plague.
Trying not to stand out, Jesse felt positively under-dressed in the jacket she’d snagged. If nothing else, she looked relatively tame for a wannabe vampire. She looked like a poseur.
Although she wouldn’t have believed it earlier, there were people who really took the lore of vampires very seriously. Not only did they dress the part, but they also went so far as to try to emulate the lifestyle, rising only after dark, eschewing all but a liquid diet, and actually seeking out those who they believed could truly help them achieve the transformation from human to the walking undead. Some even went so far as to consume blood in the pursuit of what they perceived to be the perfect way to gain immortality. Whether or not they knew about the Telave or simply wanted to emulate the lifestyle of what they imagined a vampire to be was unknown. Either way, the Goths provided perfect camouflage for the actual entities preying on humans.
Acutely aware of every movement around her, Jesse watched them all. The demon inside saw everything. And it coveted.
The hours drifted by, barely registering in her mind. By now she moved as if in a trance, increasingly driven by desperation as bodies full of the rich red nourishment her demon craved passed her by. She wasn’t really sure what she was supposed to be doing, or even what she might be looking for.
A hand landed on her shoulder with unexpected weight.
Eyes going wide, Jesse immediately whirled. She expected to see Maddox. Instead of encountering his familiar scruffy face and dark eyes, her gaze settled on a tall, thin man. Hair the color of sweet clover honey cascaded around his shoulders, almost reaching his waist. Eyes so pale blue they were closer to a frosty white stared down at her. His features were severe, as though chiseled out of pure white marble. He was dressed in an odd mix of styles: black tuxedo pants, a pirate-style white shirt open to the navel, and a long black leather coat. He carried an elegant wolf’s head cane.
His smell, however, struck her more than his looks. An odor, not exactly unpleasant but definitely strange, lingered about his person. The scent reminded her of dry feathers and sandalwood.
Reyen had sworn he could tell an undead by its smell. Now Jesse understood what the Indian was talking about. Yes, the true undead definitely had an odor.
Much to her surprise, the demon within purred with recognition. Its unexpected reaction made her shiver. This, she thought, is the real thing.
Jesse stared at him, fascinated by his stunning beauty and, dare she think it, allure. She didn’t have the courage to say anything, halfway fearing it would break the spell he so easily wove around her senses. All she did was look—and admire.
The stranger smiled, flashing perfectly normal white teeth. “You look hungry, youngling.” He spoke in such a way that it was easy to be mesmerized by his relaxed charm.
Whatever his identity, he wasn’t like anything she’d ever envisioned a real vampire would be. She’d imagined something more akin to the fledgling she’d tried to take down last night—a slavering beast; not an intelligent, well-spoken being. No wonder the Telave and their spawn were an undiscovered threat. They looked and acted like humans. Only a few physical differences actually set them apart from the living.
Aware that her heart was pounding against her ribs, Jesse fought to stifle her fear. Deep down, she was terrified she’d do something that would cripple her ability to control the demon inside.
Fighting to regain her bearings, she blinked. “I—I am,” she finally admitted after the silence had stretched on a moment too long.
The elegant stranger closed the narrow distance between them, leaning in so no passersby could hear their conversation. “I had no idea you would be out hunting tonight, my dear, though you’ve come so far since your birthing. Lucien’s glad to see you stretching your wings a bit more,” he said, referring to himself in the third person.
Jesse didn’t move a muscle. This man—Lucien, he’d called himself—was speaking as though he knew her and was familiar with her. But that was impossible. She’d never met him in her life. She didn’t even recognize him as one of the vampires who had taken her that fateful night.
And then her heart slammed into her rib cage.
Was he mistaking her for Amanda? Had she risen?
Desperate, scared, and a little out of control, Jesse felt her confusion and nervousness fuse into something volatile and unstable deep inside her core. “I’m trying to learn,” she murmured back. If she said or did the wrong thing at the wrong time, her tenuous cover would be blown.
The stranger slipped a hand beneath her chin. His touch was cool but not unpleasant. “Lucien likes the change in your look.” He tilted her head, observing her closely. “Very mod. You look so innocent. So untouched. No one would ever suspect the intent lurking in your tainted little soul.”
His words felt like a dull knife being shoved between her ribs. She found reprehensible the idea that Amanda not only walked but also fed the demon inside. But then again, did the true undead have any choice? If Amanda had died, the demon she’d been infected with would have taken over her body. The thing that walked and talked and looked like her sister wasn’t Amanda. It was a walking corpse, nothing more.
Jesse wasn’t sure how she found the strength to answer. “I wanted to fit in better.”
Lucien chuckled. “Of course you do. We all do.” Cocking his head, he reached out to finger a lock of her hair. “You went a little extreme with the cut, though. I always loved your long, pretty hair, and the way it flowed like silk over your shoulders.”
Jesse reached up, touching her hair. Back when Amanda was alive, they’d both worn their hair long. Sometimes, when they wanted to look a little different from each other, one of them would try a different style. Most often, though, they delighted in looking exactly alike; two peas snug in a pod. Sometimes their own parents couldn’t tell them apart.
The briefest hint of a smile flickered across her face. Instinct warned her she’d better tread carefully so as not to arouse his suspicion. “It’ll grow back, I suppose.”
Nostrils flaring, he stroked her cheek with a familiar touch. “I’ll always think you’re a beauty,” he said. “One of Amonate’s finest acquisitions.”
Jesse lowered her head. For several long seconds, she stood breathing hard, so shaken she didn’t trust herself to reply. Her demon was practically humming with the joy of recognition of another of its own kind. “I try my best to please,” she finally said.
The stranger reached out, petting her head as though she were a beloved animal. “You do, youngling. Very much.”
“Are you going to hunt tonight?” By this time, the streets had begun to empty out, the pass
ersby becoming fewer and farther between. Reyen, Chen, and Maddox were out of sight. A purplish fog had drifted in off the nearby river, smoothing sharp edges and lending the neighborhood a mysterious and unreal quality. By now she’d lost all track of time, having no idea how late the hour might be.
He gave her a wink and laughed. “Oh, of course. Lucien’s a vamp with a hunger and needs a little snack to sate himself. I only stopped to see if you’d like to join me.” Eyeing her from head to foot, he tsked. “You look so famished, little one. Once you feed, you’ll feel better.”
A thought occurred to her. Now that Lucien had seen her, recognized her, there was no way they could let him get away. Once he saw Amanda again, the jig would be up. Jesse quickly glanced around, seeing no one on the fog-filled streets. The entire neighborhood had gone deathly quiet. The whole world had suddenly ceased to exist around her. The isolation was unnerving. Her backup, she noted with some dismay, had vanished.
But, no. Those men weren’t amateurs. They’d made themselves invisible for a reason. Though she didn’t know quite how they operated, she had a feeling something was up. She just didn’t know what—yet.
“Where shall we eat tonight?” she asked, affecting an airy tone.
Lucien tapped his chin, musing. “Lucien was just about to wend his way down to one of the after-hours places and sup on one of those bite-junkies who enjoy sharp kisses.”
Bite-junkie. That was a new one, but hardly surprising. People seemed to worship the mystique of the undead. Who’d have thought being possessed by a demon would be so attractive to the human race?
Jesse pasted a smile on her face. “I was just about to head that—” she started to say.
She didn’t have a chance to finish her sentence.
All hell broke loose.
It didn’t take much guessing to figure out that Jesse would be a demon magnet. Somehow the vamps seemed to have an uncanny knack for homing in on their own, a sort of invisible radar that allowed them to recognize one another in a crowd.