"Thanks." Kira smiled at him, understanding the message behind those words. Relations between vampires and conduits had never been all that fantastic, but in the past few years, things had only gotten worse—and Tristan was inadvertently to blame. Once word got around that the conduits had discovered a way to cure vampirism, their secretive world was thrown into chaos. Vamps from all across the globe started turning on any of their kind who wanted to be reborn—they saw it as a threat to their way of life, their society, their power structure. The very idea that a vampire could get its humanity back was terrifying to many, and Kira couldn’t even blame them. She remembered vividly when the newly human Tristan had relived his vampire memories for a short time while Pavia erased them from his mind. Even still, her nightmares were sometimes filled with his screams, the pain of facing what he'd done. Even still, she was haunted by how close he'd come to true, everlasting death.
But all of that chaos just put the conduits into overdrive. Vampires who made it to Sonnyville, the conduit base in Florida, were reborn and given safe haven inside the protective UV walls. Pavia and Tristan were in charge of reintegration—educating the new humans on whatever history they'd missed, introducing them to the new technology of the world, and then sending them somewhere safe where they could begin a new, mortal life. But for every one vamp that made it, five were killed by their own kind for even attempting to start a new life. And all of that chaos just meant more work for the conduits. The Protector conduits, whose flames were meant to contain and not to kill, were busy trying to keep the rebel vamps safe until they could reach Sonnyville to be cured. And the Punisher conduits, whose flames were fatal for a vamp, were in charge of hunting any bloodsuckers who got too enthusiastic with their attacks. The two species of conduits were working better together than they had in a thousand years. Protector and Punisher, separate, as they needed to be to keep the blood from intermixing like it had with Kira. But now, they were working toward one shared goal for the first time.
So, conduit-conduit relations were great.
Vampire-conduit? Not so much.
Which was why no one could believe it when an undead messenger arrived outside the walls of Sonnyville a few weeks earlier, asking for conduits to have a meeting with one of the most powerful vampires in the world—the head vamp of New York. A lot of people thought it was a trick or a trap, some way to send a message that curing vampirism needed to stop now. No vampire had ever come to the conduits for a meeting before. But Kira and Luke were intrigued.
Call it crazy.
Call it insane.
Heck, call it boredom.
But the idea of a new adventure with impossible odds and almost certain death just excited them.
We are strange, Kira thought, letting the corners of her lips lift just a bit as she caught Luke's eyes. They were fiery with anticipation just like she knew hers were.
After a moment, she turned back to Pavia and Tristan, who were still awaiting an answer. "I actually don't think it has anything to do with you guys or with the whole vampires being reborn thing." Kira shrugged, pursing her lips. "I just have this feeling, I don't know, that it's something we never saw coming. Something new. Something big."
"I'm not sure I like it when you have that feeling," Luke commented.
Tristan snorted. "I know I don't."
"Well, I do," Pavia interjected with an air of enthusiasm. "Let's face it, our lives have become pretty same-old, same-old. Turn a vampire into a human, give him our favorite pep talk, send him on his way, and repeat. Over and over. I mean, I love my new Goody Two-Shoes role in life, but a little adventure never hurt anyone."
Kira smirked—she expected nothing else from Pavia. For some reason, they think because of her mind-reading abilities as a vampire, Pavia never lost her memories. She retained it all—the good, the ugly, and the attitude. But Kira wouldn’t want her any other way. Snarky and Pavia just fit.
But even though she'd love the running witty commentary, Kira knew this adventure wasn't for Tristan and Pavia. Not yet, at least. "I don't know," she said, blowing out a deep breath of air. "Bringing the two of you, delivering you to one of the most powerful vampires in the world? Until we know what's going on, what he wants, I don't think you should be involved. Maybe later, but not yet, not until we have more information."
"Yeah," Luke seconded Kira, backing her up as always. "You might think your life is same-old, same-old, Pavia, but outside of Sonnyville, you and Tristan are still a very hot topic. A lot of vampires wouldn't hesitate to kill you, with or without the conduits saying you’re off limits. And you aren’t as strong as you once were."
Harsh, but true.
As humans, they were no challenge at all for a vamp.
They were vulnerable.
Pavia scrunched her brows but remained silent. All the attitude in the world wouldn't change Luke's words, and there was something Kira knew deep down that Pavia would never admit. She loved her new life, she loved Tristan, and she wouldn't risk what she had, not for a little fleeting excitement.
The conversation was over.
But Kira didn’t miss the little glance Pavia and Tristan shared, carrying an unspoken message, or the bright spark flashing in each of their eyes. Before she could butt in and demand answers, the wheels of the jet slammed against the tarmac, tossing the moment completely out of her thoughts. Kira gasped, clutching her chest, as her stomach leapt into her throat. She had totally forgotten they were flying, let alone landing.
"Well, that was fun," Luke groaned.
Tristan cast a dark glare in his direction.
Just like old times, Kira thought, unbuckling now that the plane was slowing.
"So what are you guys going to do?" Kira asked lightly.
"Well," Pavia drawled. "Someone has been chewing my ear off about some museum—"
"Not some museum," Tristan interrupted, voice growing animated now that they were broaching his favorite topic—history and art all in one. "The Metropolitan Museum of Art, one of the best museums in the world. And they have a new exhibit displaying never before seen artwork that was discovered a few months ago in a Nazi hideout they just uncovered in eastern Germany. I mean, it's unbelievable. Did you ever think we'd discover a brand-new Van Gogh? A new Monet? After a hundred years?"
"Never," Kira teased.
He scoffed at her. "Just because some of us can't appreciate the finer things in life doesn’t mean we should make fun of those of us who can."
"Of course not," Kira said, not altering her tone at all, but widening her smile.
Pavia leaned across the aisle, whispering none too softly, "Are you sure I can't come with you?"
But her eyes were still on Tristan, and they were shimmering with affection, glistening like an emerald gem in the sunlight. And it warmed Kira's heart to see eyes that were once icy blue and impenetrable shine so openly.
"Don't worry," Kira said, dropping the joke and shifting gears now that the plane had come to a complete stop. They'd arrived, which meant the time for games was over. "You'll be having more fun than us. I'm not even sure where we're supposed to go to find this guy, he didn’t really give us very much information."
"Uh," Luke murmured, coughing. Kira glanced over, noticing how his eyes were staring hard through the little window next to his seat. "I'm pretty sure we have a welcoming committee."
"What?" Kira asked, looking away from him to turn her gaze out the window. Twenty feet away, a black limo was waiting surrounded by about six vampires with hungry eyes that blazed blue. "Great. Just great." She sighed. "Okay, you two, stay here until we're out of sight. I don’t want them to know you're in town until I know it's safe. Luke? You're with me. Let's do this thing."
"Ay, ay, captain," he cheered.
Together, they left Pavia and Tristan behind, exiting down the small step of stairs until their feet hit pavement, and then they stopped.
The vampires didn’t move.
Kira and Luke didn’t move.
Total sta
lemate.
"Okay," Kira finally sighed. "Are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?"
And then she held her hands out, palms up, and brought her fire to life. Flames sizzled above her fingertips, crackling menacingly against the silent afternoon. She might be all Protector now, but her powers could still burn bright enough to hurt. She was channeling the sun, after all.
Immediately, the vamps tensed, eyes flashing brighter as they leaned forward on their toes, ready to finish whatever Kira started.
"Not sure that was the right play," Luke leaned over and whispered into her ear.
"Got any better ideas?" Kira asked tersely, making the blaze even hotter, even more challenging.
"Watch and learn." Luke smirked. And then he stepped right through the fire Kira was billowing around them, crossed the space, and offered up his hand to whichever hungry vampire wanted to step forward to shake it. "Luke Bowrey, nice to meet you."
When did he become the one who was civil around vampires? Kira questioned, remembering the only time they'd ever scheduled a meeting with vampires, back when Pavia still was one and was gathering troops to help them bring Aldrich down. Back then, he was all Kira, they can't be trusted, don't listen to them, what are you doing. But—she took a deep breath—she could play nice if she had to. And it looked like she would because as soon as she pulled the flames back beneath her palms, the tension broke. One of the vampires stepped forward, nodding quickly.
"My name is Ferdinand," he said softly. "Our master asked us to see you safely into the city. He's expecting you shortly. Please, follow me."
"Well, we wouldn’t want to keep him waiting," Kira muttered under her breath. Luke flashed her a look, begging her to cut the attitude for a few minutes. She held her hands up in surrender, mouthing, "okay, okay" and followed him into the car. But the mood was grim as she settled into her seat.
What do you get when you stuff six vampires and two conduits with a nice case of mutual disgust into a stretch limousine? Awkward silence, that's what.
"Well, this is cozy," Luke commented, unable to stop himself from filling the void. Kira glared at him, but he didn’t notice. He was too busy looking around, absently searching for something, anything to say. "So…" He paused. "How about those Yankees?"
Ugh.
Kira dropped her head against the back of the seat.
It was going to be a long ride.
Chapter Two
"So, what do you think?" Luke asked quietly, putting his arm around Kira's shoulder and pulling her in a little closer. "Should we make a bet? Is he going to live in a totally cliché gilded era townhouse on the Upper East Side, complete with a butler and a heck of a lot of molding? Or is he overcompensating for his age, living in a trendy downtown apartment with a modern vibe—one of those weird places where you press a button and the toilet pops out of the wall or something?"
Kira smirked, shrugging and snuggling up against his side. "Maybe he's going for the shock and awe, and he has an apartment in Brooklyn of all places. Hipster by day, evil vampire lord by night."
"That's diabolical," Luke gasped, and then raised his brows, "but I like it."
The car pulled to a stop, shutting them both up.
"We're here," Ferdinand announced. So far, he was the only vamp to speak, clearly the leader of the pack. Without needing any prompting, one of the other vamps pushed open the door, and they quickly ushered out. Ferdinand followed, pausing for a moment before he eased out of his seat. "And just so you know, it's a penthouse in midtown with a view you have to see to believe."
Kira and Luke glanced at each other.
"I think we're growing on him," Luke murmured.
Kira shoved him toward the open door. "Let's go."
They remained silent as Ferdinand led them to an elevator, pressing a button for the top floor and leaving the five other bodyguard vamps at the base of the building.
Guess he's not too afraid of us, Kira thought, frowning. His mistake.
But a little doubt in the back of her mind wondered who was really doing the underestimating here. Head vampires were powerful—incredibly powerful. And she wasn't a Punisher anymore. Her flames burned but didn’t melt the way they used to. And faced with a vampire with an ability she couldn’t even begin to predict, Kira felt her palms grow sweaty for the first time she could remember. A trickle of nerves sprinkled down her spine, sending a tremble through her, one obvious enough to catch Luke's attention. He gazed at her from the corner of his eye, questioning, but Kira wouldn't meet his stare. Somehow it felt like that would only make the fear more real.
When the elevator doors slowly pulled apart, she straightened her spine, bringing the proud—perhaps too proud—stance back. She'd never cowered before a vampire before, and she certainly wasn't going to start now.
Beside her, Luke released an impressed exhale. "Man, he wasn't kidding about the view," he murmured as they stepped forward, following Ferdinand.
Kira nodded, breathless as she took in the image of Manhattan spread out before her. Skyscrapers poked unevenly across the horizon, flashes of reflective glass and sturdy stone that fractured the pure blue of the sky. Hints of green popped through the spaces between the buildings, broken glimpses of Central Park, slivers of nature trying to push through the concrete jungle. The more Kira looked around, the more she was sucked into the unobstructed view. The entire apartment was lined by floor-to-ceiling windows, as though the whole space were floating, separate from reality. As though this vampire were some sort of god, watching over the city that never slept.
But he wasn't.
Immortal, maybe. But not invincible.
Kira knew that for a fact.
"You may leave us, Ferdinand," a deep voice said from behind them.
"But, Sir—"
"Now," the voice interrupted with calm and undeniable authority.
Swallowing, Kira turned, meeting the icy-blue eyes of the head vampire of New York. They were void of the flashing hunger she normally saw pulsing in the eyes of a vampire. No, his were sapphire, hard and impenetrable, oozing with the studied composure only an impossibly long life could provide.
"Kira and Luke, I presume. Your reputation precedes you," he said smoothly with a voice of practiced eloquence. And then he bowed slightly in polite greeting. "Welcome. And since there is no need for formalities, not between us, you may call me by my given name, Tatsuya."
No fangs, Kira noticed as he spoke and widened her inspection. But his skin was incredibly pale, matching hair that was so white it nearly appeared silver. There wasn't a single wrinkle etched across his brow. No laugh lines marred the perfectly smooth texture of his skin. He was tall and thin, yet solid, obviously strong. With almond eyes and a round face that held an aura of agelessness. To a normal human, he would probably appear no older than his midthirties, with a serious case of early graying. But Kira knew better.
He was old.
Incredibly old to show not a single hint of hunger in the presence of two conduits, in the presence of the incredibly alluring scent of their blood.
"Please, follow me," he spoke softly, yet somehow oozed strength. "I've been very much looking forward to this visit."
Without waiting, he turned and started walking away. Kira let her eyes glide to the side, meeting Luke's. He raised his brows, leaving the decision up to her. Kira just nodded. They'd come this far, she had no intention of stopping now.
The vamp led them through the sparsely furnished space, circling the exterior ring of the apartment, finally slowing to pull aside what Kira had thought was the wall but soon realized was a long set of sliding doors made of wood and parchment, disguising the interior rooms of the immense apartment. The partitions revealed a small meeting room, in the center of which was a low table holding a tray full of steaming tea, surrounded by four plush cushions. The sun filtered through the paper doors, bringing a soft glow to the room. When they closed behind her, Kira couldn’t help but feel as though she had stepped into a different wo
rld.
"Tea?" Tatsuya asked, sinking down to one of the cushions and easily crossing his legs. Without waiting for a response, he poured two small glasses, sniffing the aroma ever so slightly, unable to hide the envy in his expression. "I must admit I miss the taste."
He laughed to himself and then looked up to where Kira and Luke stood awkwardly by the door.
"Sit," he said, inclining his head.
The word had an undeniable note of authority, one that put Kira on edge. For a moment, she had the inexplicable urge to cross her arms, cock her hip, and raise one brow just enough to silently say, I won't be taking orders from you, thank you very much. But she suppressed the desire, swallowing her attitude back down and following Luke to the floor. The vamp had home court advantage, and the last thing she wanted to do was press her luck in the penthouse apartment of a building tall enough to make the word skyscraper seem insufficient.
"Why are we here?" Kira asked into the silence, blunt as usual. But why pretend they were anything less than mortal enemies? There was no need for false pretenses, for insincere kindness.
Tatsuya just smiled. "I heard you weren't one to mince words."
"She means no disrespect," Luke jumped in, saving Kira from herself as always. "But even you have to admit this meeting is unusual, and we'd rather get to the point. Why exactly did you ask to see us?"
"In the name of honesty," the vamp said, inclining his head while raising his brows ever so slightly. "I need your help."
Kira nearly spit out a mouthful of tea.
Help?
A vampire wanted their help?
Luke started choking. "Come again?"
"Yeah," Kira jumped in. "Could you repeat that, because I'm pretty sure we couldn’t have heard you correctly."
"You did," he said. "And once was enough. I'm not accustomed to making such requests."
"So why are you?" Kira challenged.
"Because even my power is limited, and I fear giving you that knowledge far less than I fear giving it to one of my own kind."
The Complete Midnight Fire Series Page 80