"I don't need you to save me," a female voice growled.
"Could've fooled me," the guy shot back, hardly paying attention to Kira, not seeing her as a threat at all. And to be honest, in that moment, Kira didn’t really see herself as too much of a threat either.
If he wasn't a vamp, where had the freaking superstrength come from?
And how the heck could she fight it?
But before she had time to think up an answer, the rumble of scraping stone drew her attention, and Kira jerked her head toward the tomb, watching as the lid moved seemingly on its own. But no one emerged from the opening, at least not anyone Kira could see. So despite the stranger's warning, Kira flared her fire, sending her flames in a blanket over the tomb.
"Ow!" an irritated voice yelped. "Could you put those freaking things out?"
But Kira didn't relent. If anything, she pushed harder, until the barest flickering outline of a female form started to take shape in the middle of the blaze.
A hand grabbed her dress, spinning her around until she was face to face with the strange boy. "I don't like hitting girls, but that doesn’t mean I won't. Put them out. Now."
Kira gritted her teeth.
But something in his voice made her believe him.
And for all her stubbornness, Kira knew when to play it safe.
A second later, her flames disappeared. Her attitude, however, wasn't as easy to turn off. "Look, I was telling the truth. Any minute, the head vampire of New York is going to be here, and you probably want to be gone before that happens."
He released her. "I'm not afraid of a vampire."
But the female voice behind her wasn't so blasé. "Tatsuya is coming?"
When Kira turned to face her, the invisible vamp was gone. And in her place stood a girl Kira could only describe as Spy Barbie. She wore a leather jacket, tight black gloves, dark onyx leggings with knee-high boots, and her perfectly honey-blonde hair was in a high bun Kira would never be able to copy, even after hours in front of a mirror.
Freaking vampires. Do they all need to be annoyingly beautiful?
Kira sighed. "He hired us to find you. Guess you pissed off the wrong people."
The vamp rolled her eyes. "Story of my life." And then she turned to the boy. "Jax, you have to go, and I'm not joking."
"I'm not leaving unless you come with me," he growled.
She crossed her arms. "What part of leave me the hell alone did you not understand?"
"The part where I leave you the hell alone." The boy, Jax, grinned a lopsided grin that sort of reminded Kira of Tristan—her Tristan, before he had become human again, when he was all brooding bad boy.
"I'm not going back, not ever," the vampire said.
Back where? Kira thought, sort of wishing she had some popcorn and a seat right now. This was better than a movie, better than a soap opera.
The boy stepped closer to the vamp, reaching his hand forward slightly. And Kira couldn't help but notice the girl's eyes flash an icy blue, the sort of tell no vampire could hide, revealing that part of her wanted to go with him.
"I've been chasing you for four years," he said softly. "And I'm not going to stop until you come home. We need you. I need you."
Four years? Kira mused, fully entertained by the drama unfolding before her. This guy is dedicated. Slightly stalkerish, maybe, but dedicated.
And the vamp, it seemed, was softening. Her shoulders slumped forward as she bowed her head, extending her hand, stretching to hold on to the fingers Jax had left open and waiting.
Aw, Kira thought. If they weren't in the middle of a cemetery surrounded by dead bodies and waiting for the head vampire of New York to drag the girl away, it would almost be romantic.
But instead of melting into his embrace, the vamp latched her fingers around Jax's, and then clenched her muscles, flipping him up and over her head before he even realized what was going on. He sailed into the wall and landed hard on his back, right next to Luke. The moment his body hit the floor, the vamp jumped him, punching him hard in the side of the face, once, twice, three times, and he was out.
Luke, of course, chose that exact moment to wake up, blinking suddenly with an incredibly confused expression on his face. But Kira caught his eyes, shaking her head slightly until he closed them again, playing unconscious. Better he be available for a sneak attack later on if they needed it.
Which was looking more and more unlikely—the vamp was hardly paying attention to Kira or Luke. Instead, she lifted the boy's now immobile body in her arms and dropped him into the darkness of the still open tomb in the center of the room, sliding the lid closed and locking him in.
In a matter of seconds, it was over.
"Like I said before," the vamp said, shrugging, "men are so much easier to manipulate when they think they're in control."
And then she finally turned her icy-blue eyes on Kira.
There was an awkward pause.
The vamp didn't move. Kira didn’t move.
Had they made a strange sort of truce?
Were they still enemies?
Then Kira noticed the vamp reaching behind her back toward the katana, and she reacted instinctually, flaring up her fire and barreling it straight into the girl's chest, blowing her into the wall so hard it cracked beneath the force of Kira's power. The sword clanked to the ground as the vampire trembled, trapped by the flames, wincing from the sting of the heat.
"And here I thought we were becoming friends," she sneered.
Kira frowned. "It's not personal, just business."
"And what business could a conduit possibly have with Tatsuya?"
"He asked us to find you." Kira shrugged.
The vamp narrowed her eyes. "Why?"
Um, maybe because you're a thief who won't stop stealing his stuff?
But that answer wouldn't really help the situation, and it was sort of obvious, so Kira just shut her mouth for once and stayed quiet.
The vamp tried again. "In exchange for what?"
And though she knew she didn’t owe an explanation to this girl, this vampire thief who had almost killed her by dropping a chandelier on her head, Kira found herself giving one anyway, maybe because somewhere deep down inside she felt just a teensy bit guilty—okay, a lot guilty—for helping a vamp like Tatsuya. "He's going to publicly support the cure for vampirism."
The girl's jaw dropped open. "You're her, aren't you?"
"If by her, you mean Kira, the girl who discovered the cure, then yes, yes I am." Kira couldn't help but grin. But come on, it was sort of a celebrity moment. How often do those happen? Not very, she thought humorously, especially when you live in a town purposefully nestled in the middle of nowhere Florida because you're part of a secret society that fights vampires for a living.
But instead of the usual reaction—total fury from the vampires who hated her and total awe from the ones hoping to become human again—Kira watched as the girl's glowing eyes dimmed, turning back to a sapphire blue, while the corners of her mouth dipped down and her brows pulled in just the slightest bit.
She lightened her fire, easing up on the pain and using the flames only to keep the girl contained while she stepped closer, unsure if the vampire was being sincere or was just trying to play another game. Staring into those inhumanely blue eyes, searching for honesty, Kira asked, "Why do you steal things?"
"I like to live on the edge," the vamp answered with an air of false confidence.
Kira didn't buy it. "What are you running from?"
"I'm running from the same thing everyone else is," the vamp said, voice gritty. "Myself."
Kira looked at the tomb, remembering the boy. "You could go home, you know. Seems like there are people there who miss you. I can help you get there, I can help you become the person you were before."
The vamp laughed. "There's no turning back, not for me. I—" But then she stopped, head jerking, eyes flicking to the wall. "He's here."
Kira bit her lip.
She had thirty seconds to make a dec
ision.
Help the girl? Or let her burn?
And for some reason, staring into this vampire's impossibly lonely eyes, Kira was torn. Who was this girl? Where had she come from? And why in the world was she reminding Kira so much of Tristan, of the lost boy who was her first love, the one who taught her that vampires could and should be saved?
It made absolutely no sense.
And yet, Kira trusted her gut.
"Don't look into his eyes," she whispered. "After an hour or so, his power will wear off, and if you're invisible, he won’t be able to touch you." The vamp furrowed her brows, staring at Kira strangely, utterly shocked. But Kira pressed on urgently, hoping the crackle of her fire was enough to cover the sound of her voice to the vampire quickly approaching outside. "Don't let fear own you. When you're ready to face whatever you're running from, come find me. Your life doesn’t have to be this way. Trust me, I know because I've seen it. I've saved it."
And then the door behind her boomed open, slamming against the wall.
Tatsuya had arrived.
"My thief," he murmured, stepping next to Kira and staring at the vampire caught within her flames. With each passing moment, his eyes grew brighter, betraying his excitement.
"Delivered as promised," Kira said, hating how sour the words tasted on her tongue. "I expect you to make good on your end of the bargain."
Tatsuya turned to her, watching her as though she were a petulant child. "As I said before, I'm a man of my word. You'll have your public support. Expect the whisperings of my changing views to spread within the week."
Kira nodded.
There wasn't much else to say.
The deal was already done, whether she liked it or not.
And Tatsuya knew it too. Without another word, he stepped forward, not bothering to ask Kira to smolder her flames. Instead, he stepped through them, a show of strength—a message Kira understood. Because there was only one way a vampire could pass through her fire. Tatsuya had recently consumed conduit blood, giving himself immunity to their flames, meaning Kira couldn't touch him. Not now. And if he was holding a conduit captive, probably not ever.
Their short-lived truce was over.
Kira was powerless as he stepped up to the girl, gripping her chin and shifting her face toward his. Instead of closing her eyes, the vampire met his stare defiantly, promising that no matter what he tried, she wouldn’t go down without a fight. And Kira believed her.
"Hold your hands behind your back, retract your fangs, and remain within two feet of my body without touching me or anyone else until I say otherwise," Tatsuya whispered. "Oh, yes, and one more thing. No more turning invisible unless I ask you to."
The girl listened whether she wanted to or not, and from the hatred spewing in her gaze, Kira was guessing not.
The head vampire turned to Kira. "You can release your power now."
But she didn’t, not right away. Instead, she looked back at the girl, holding her gaze for a prolonged moment, remembering every detail of her face and hoping that one day she would see her again—to help her this time, not to hurt her.
And then Kira slowly pulled her fingers into a fist, one by one, drawing the warmth of her fire back beneath her skin and blanketing them in darkness.
In the space of one blink, the vampires were gone.
"Ow," Luke groaned from the floor. "That really hurt, you know. Defending your honor is going to kill me one day."
Kira rolled her eyes. "Oh, relax. He barely touched you."
Luke's brows shot to the sky. "Barely touched me? I don't think you'd be saying that if you were the one who'd been catapulted into a concrete wall."
"Actually, I think it's marble," Kira said, grinning.
Luke snorted, easing to his feet while he rubbed the back of his head.
"So, how much did you miss?" Kira asked.
"I came to right as the vamp was beating the crap out of her boyfriend."
"So you saw Tatsuya?" Kira asked, frowning.
Luke mirrored her expression, sighing. "Yeah. Not surprising he'd have access to conduit blood, but I'll let the council know."
"Do you think we should—"
"No," he interrupted, shaking his head.
"But what about—"
"No," he said again.
"But—"
Luke came over and placed his hand over Kira's mouth. "We really need to talk about this incessant need you have to save the world all by yourself when there are plenty of other conduits who can do it for you. It’s very unsettling."
Kira grinned behind his fingers. "But isn’t that part of my charm?"
"Something like that," Luke grumbled, pulling her beneath his arm and holding her against his side.
Kira glanced over her shoulder. "Should we worry about the guy trapped in the tomb behind us?"
"The guy with superstrength who almost killed me?" he asked, incredulous. "I think we're in the clear."
"Luke…" Kira whined.
"Did I ever tell you about titans?" he murmured, casually trying to edge them both closer to the door.
Titans?
And then Kira remembered her lessons from a long time ago. Vampires and conduits weren't the only paranormal creatures in the world. But titans were supposed to be the good guys, like conduits. They were government funded, another secret society—basically the same as conduits, only they didn’t fight vampires, they fought everything else.
"I think I remember a little bit…" she trailed off.
"Well, I think that guy was one of them, so believe me, when he wakes up he'll be fine. And if he has any sort of anger issues, we should probably be gone before that happens."
Kira sighed. Much as she hated to admit it, Luke was right. They did not want to be around when that guy woke up—especially when he realized they'd handed his girlfriend over to the head vampire of New York.
"Hotel?" Kira asked, snuggling against Luke's torso.
"Hotel." He nodded. Then the edges of his lips twitched, slowly pulling wider and wider across his face. "We need to rest up, we have a big day tomorrow."
"Bigger than today?" Kira stared up at him.
"Don't tell me you forgot," he gasped.
Kira thought back, confused. And then immediately groaned. "Oh, god, yes, I'd erased it from my memory."
"Well, lucky for us, I didn't," he teased. "Four tickets for a double-decker tour bus and my entire list of New York must-sees are waiting for us in the hotel. I need a bagel, dollar pizza. I'm totally buying a pretzel from a street vendor. We've got to see Times Square and the Empire State Building, not to mention the holy grail of comic book stores—"
"Please stop," she groaned.
But Luke plowed through, ignoring her. "And the Brooklyn Bridge, and oh, that tram thing in the Spiderman movies, and—"
He was interrupted as the door crashed open, slamming against the wall. Kira and Luke spun, both throwing their fire out in massive waves before their brains could process the two individuals filling the entrance to the tomb—the two individuals who were supposed to be far away and safely on a date night, out enjoying their vacation instead of worrying about vampires.
"Pavia?" Kira burst, dropping the flames.
"Tristan?" Luke said at the same time, cutting off his fire.
The two of them were dressed in head to toe black, wearing bulletproof vests with guns strapped to their hips. Tristan had a flamethrower in his hands, pointed at the ready as his eyes scanned the tomb. After a moment he frowned, disappointed. Sighing, the two of them relaxed their stances.
"No one's here?" Tristan asked, disheartened.
Pavia wrinkled her nose. "I was really ready to kick some vampire ass."
"Oh, don't worry, we’re fine," Luke commented wryly. "Thanks for asking."
Kira wasn't in such a joking mood. She put her hands on her hips, staring them down. "What part of stay safe and out of sight do you two not understand?"
"You were in danger because of us, because you're trying
to get support for the cure," Tristan volleyed back. "We came to help."
"With guns and a flamethrower?" she deadpanned.
Pavia shrugged, crossing her arms, ready for a challenge. "I have it on good authority from, you know, having once been a vampire, that while they won't kill you, they hurt like hell."
Luke had already stepped forward, inspecting said flamethrower, practically salivating. "Where did you even get this?"
Tristan grinned, lifting the corner of his lip as his brown eyes twinkled mischievously. Kira almost had to do a double-take because he looked so much like the brooding vampire who'd been her first love, not the newly born human who'd become her dear friend instead. "We've been making a few, uh, clandestine purchases for the vampire-reintegration program. When you wake up after hundreds of years of invincibility, your body remembers the power even if your brain doesn’t. And regaining a little bit of that strength, even if it’s in the middle of the woods against a dummy target? Well, it helps."
Kira was about to rip him a new one, but Luke beat her to the punch.
"Dude," he said, grabbing the handle and trying to steal it from Tristan's arms. "I've got to try this thing."
Kira gasped. "Luke!"
He turned, hesitant. "What?"
She glared at him—at all of them—and stomped her foot. "You two are supposed to be singing along to a Broadway show right now. How'd you even find us?"
"Tristan hacked into the tracker, and we followed it here," Pavia murmured somewhat apologetic. Then she shrugged, gypsy eyes sparkling once more. "Come on, we both know this is way more fun. The action, the adventure, the danger…"
Okay, well, she had a point.
But…
But…
Tristan lifted his brows, meeting Luke's eager eyes. "Should we find someone to test this thing on?"
"Absolutely not," Kira intervened.
"Oh, come on, Mom," Pavia whined, "we all know there's a vampire somewhere in this city just begging to be burned."
Kira felt herself weakening.
After all, it was a flamethrower—a freaking flamethrower.
And fire was sort of her life.
And her nickname was the Flaming Tomato.
They sensed her wavering.
"Please," Luke chimed.
The Complete Midnight Fire Series Page 84