by Tanith Frost
She picks the dress up, folds it, and tucks it under her arm. “Best not to leave evidence,” she says. “Let them wonder whether she survived.”
As she turns away, I catch a glimmer of power from her. It’s not much, but she feels more present now.
We decide to head back toward Holyrood, putting as much distance as we can between us and our last known location before the Blood Defenders come back for seconds. I’m hoping they’ll assume we’re scared, that they’ll be searching for us anywhere but in the direction we came from last night.
We don’t have a solid plan yet, but we’ll need one soon.
“How’s your arm?” I ask Daniel at a moment when we’ve briefly dropped behind the group.
He rotates his shoulder and shakes his arm out, then winces. “They laced that stake with silver. It wasn’t in me long enough to do real damage, but it made the injury worse than it would have been otherwise. They’re not fucking around.”
“Nor are we,” I note, and nod toward the others. “Viktor might think they’re useless as anything other than bait, but he doesn’t know them.”
Daniel seems less convinced. “They’re angry. They don’t have a lot to lose. That’s good. But they’ve also been cooped up for decades without training or conditioning. They’re still vampires, but they’re not warriors.”
“Not in body.” I smile. “But power doesn’t atrophy, does it?”
“No,” he admits. “You’ve felt Miranda’s, and I suspect that if Trent weren’t so good at keeping his under control, it would be unbearable. They’re all old. All powerful. The question is what they can do with it.”
“My trainer once told me he didn’t want to teach me to rely on carrying weapons and supplies everywhere because a vampire who wants to survive should learn to use what she has, not lose her shit if she loses her gun.” I glance sideways at him. “Or her phone.”
He nods. “Backup would be nice, though. I doubt we could count on anyone showing up tonight if they’re dealing with matters in the city, but waiting might not be a bad idea.”
“Right. We could hole up somewhere and wait for the Blood Defenders to shoot us all in the back. Or let them disappear while they build their numbers back up to try again in ten or twenty years.” I shake my head and ignore the chill of apprehension that flashes over my skin. “We have to do this.”
Daniel raises an eyebrow. “Good thinking. Did your trainer teach you that, too?”
I punch him on his good arm. “I brought my own brains with me to this party, thank you very much. I guess he helped me learn to use them better, though. He was an asshole, but I’m doing okay.”
He smiles, more to himself than to me. “That you are.”
Trent stops at the edge of an unfamiliar road and turns back to us. “Where are we heading?”
“Helena lives back in Holyrood,” I tell him. “The guy at the gas station said up on a hill. I didn’t know to ask more before she tried to run me down.”
“So we ask him,” Daniel says. “I doubt she’s kept her name all these years without any of us noticing, so we’re not going to be able to look her up in the phone book. I’ll try calling Miranda one more time from the payphone at the gas station.”
“You won’t talk to Viktor if he answers?” Trent asks.
Daniel shakes his head. “Miranda was clear in her orders. Aviva and I are to take care of you. We can’t do that with Blood Defenders hunting us and keeping us from feeding, so it’s our duty to go after them. And as I can’t trust Viktor to respect her orders, I can’t let him know what we’re doing.”
He sounds like it hurts him to go against his training like this.
Genevieve smiles nervously. “Attacking them may not be the best way to keep us safe.”
“No,” I tell her, and I look at all of them one by one. “But Edwin was right. Running from this isn’t going to solve it, and we’re not going to gain anything if we don’t take risks. This is bigger than any of us.”
I’m saying it as much for myself as for Genevieve. I’m torn between wanting to rip whoever killed Lucille apart and wanting to run for the hills. But we won’t be safe until we’ve neutralized the Blood Defenders, until we’ve destroyed their queen bee and torn the hive apart. This ends tonight, before they can do more damage or escape. And with the rest of the clan temporarily shattered, it’s up to us.
“If anyone wants to stay back, we won’t force you to fight,” I add. I look around the group. No one moves, except to look at Genevieve.
She tosses her hair back over her shoulder. “I’m nervous. That doesn’t mean I’m quitting.”
“Excellent,” I say. “Now, let’s pool resources.”
They stare back at me.
“Give it up, folks. Show me what we’ve got. Gifts. Talents. Anything.”
I can almost hear them gritting their teeth. I might as well have asked them to do a striptease and show off their other, more physical goods.
Genevieve sighs. “You know mine. I have a certain knack for reading thoughts. It’s easiest with young vampires who aren’t skilled at cloaking their powers and minds.” She raises her eyebrows in an elegant and apologetic grimace. “I promise I never pried. Much. And I only get what’s on the surface.”
“What about the living?” I ask.
“She can,” Trent says, and nudges her when she hesitates. “Tell them. Make yourself useful.”
She rolls her eyes dramatically. “I was deciding how to explain it.” She twists her rings around her fingers, then looks to me and Daniel. “It’s much more vague with humans. Their thoughts are muddled and dull. Not sharp like ours. But I honed the skill to the point where it helped me in my hunting.” A faint smile passes over her lips as she remembers. “Before the clans, mind you. Before the stock. I could pick a human from a crowd who would be open to… advances. Married men who I knew would never betray my secrets when I gave them pleasure quite different from what they expected. They’d be too afraid, you see, of their own secrets being revealed. I’d cultivate them, draw things out, tempt them until they were in too deep to leave after I fed. I kept quite a stable at any given time, letting them fully heal and replenish between feedings, leaving them desperate for more.”
“A bait and switch,” Daniel muses. He seems quite pleased with the idea.
As am I. She fed without killing, presumably, and kept her secrets the whole time. Her beauty and charm were tools for survival.
She winks at me. “Don’t go developing an infatuation, darling. You’re far too young for me.”
Daniel chuckles and turns to Edwin. “What have you got for us?”
“I can take a lot of physical punishment,” he tells us. “I’ve been called crazy, I know. I take risks. I test my limits and push them. It’s been my entertainment in that home for more than thirty years, my way of keeping things interesting while I’ve been locked up. But it goes beyond that. I’ve learned to use pain to connect to the void on a deeper level, so I draw strength from it. Oh, and I’m an excellent liar.”
Daniel glowers at him. “That’s actually not encouraging, given that we need you to be honest right now.”
“Oh, but it’s all true,” Hannabelle says. “There are still vampires out in the world who revere him, who train themselves to take power from pain, who torture and scar themselves.”
Daniel shudders. “The Agonites are your creation?”
Edwin beams. “I’m a god to them. They’d have been beating our doors down if they’d known where to find me.”
“The who?” I ask, though everyone else seems to know what they’re talking about.
“Utter foolishness,” Trent grumbles. “A group of vampires who exist on the very outer edges of the clan system, thanks to their odd ways.” A tingle of excitement runs through me. Outsiders. I had no idea a vampire could survive like that. Trent seems to notice my interest, and he frowns. “They overcome the weakness of pain, and they gain instant access to speed and strength by immersing themselves in i
t. But it takes decades to even begin to access that, and in the meantime it costs them whatever other gifts they may have once had. So yes, the first vampire to discover this had to have been crazy.”
Edwin grins.
“Okay,” I say, unsure of how else to respond. “Hannabelle?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “I’m the opposite of Edwin, I suppose. He’s always testing, driving us all crazy with it, but at least he’s doing something. I’ve kept quiet, afraid of what I am. I was reluctant to go too deep into my power. ” Her dark eyes harden. “But I am strong. I am fast. And now I’m ready.”
And willing, I add to myself. I’ve discovered that’s more important than anything else.
“Plus you’re not scared of the dark,” I remind her.
She tilts her head to one side and closes her eyes. “There is that.”
Daniel turns to Trent. “Old man? Got any more tricks up your sleeve?”
He grunts. “I’ve forgotten more tricks than you’ve learned. Navigation, as you know, though that was always more useful with Lucille around to set my course. Even if I’ve never visited a place, I can likely get there—or I could when I was regularly using my gifts. I can subdue a human’s consciousness. Only one at a time, but they remember nothing that happens while I focus that skill on them.”
“Is that all?” Daniel asks. He’s trying to sound flippant, but is obviously intrigued.
Trent scowls at him. “I’ve survived for centuries, leaving my enemies to rot or turn to dust behind me. And my power has only grown. Will that do?”
I shiver. Centuries. I can’t even imagine.
The old vampires look expectantly at me and Daniel.
“Show us your cards,” Edwin tells us.
“I…” Shit. Daniel has taught me too well. This really is hard. Miranda might know, Daniel definitely does. Otherwise, I’ve kept my secrets well. “I’ve discovered gifts concerning empathy. I don’t think they’re useful here.”
Genevieve narrows her eyes. “What do you mean?”
“I can visit the scene of a murder, and by letting myself see the victim as a person, opening myself to who they were when they were alive and what’s been lost, I seem to be able to connect with… I still don’t know, exactly. I feel what they felt before death and catch shadows of what they saw if I close my eyes. It’s helped a few times with investigations, but we’re not dealing with bodies here. And so far as I know, it only works with humans killed by supernatural creatures. I haven’t really tried anything else.” I rub the back of my neck. The muscles suddenly feel so tight. “I lost some of the connection a while back, I think. But there’s still something there. Other than that, regular vampire stuff. Fast, strong, perceptive, quick to heal from injuries.”
Genevieve purses her lips and tilts her head. “I didn’t see that in you. Well done.”
“I try not to think about it,” I admit. I don’t need to tell them about my newer issues. They’re useless, too.
“Identifying with humans isn’t the worst thing,” Hannabelle says. “Probably best to keep that quiet if you don’t want to end up tossed in with the likes of us, though. But we won’t tell.”
“I know. Thanks.” I look to Daniel. “Your turn.”
I’m not sure he’ll reveal anything. I won’t expose him if he doesn’t want to.
He clears his throat. “I’m good at hiding myself. I can walk down the street without humans noticing me, even beyond what most vampires are capable of. Unless I interact with someone, I can remain basically invisible to their minds. I can’t do that with other vampires. They’re too strong and perceptive. But I can shield my power, my mind, and my intentions. I prefer not to be seen.”
“Such a shame for the world,” Genevieve says with a tight smile. “Go on.”
“I have certain skills with mind manipulation on the living.” Daniel recites it as though by rote, though I’m sure he’s never spoken the words aloud. “I can’t read them like you, Genevieve. But I can change their ideas or memories. It’s quite imperfect. I don’t use it a lot.”
“You’d have made a good club enforcer, then,” Edwin says. “And clearing memories when things go bad would have been a much easier job than this.”
Daniel nods. “If I’d wanted to limit myself to that, I’d have practiced and shown off my gift. But I didn’t want to be trapped there.” He glances at me. “I exposed the skills that would help me do what I wanted, and hid those that might have held me back.”
I shove my dissonant powers down and remind myself that no one can see them. I’m still safe.
Trent smiles. “You might be wiser than I’ve given you credit for, boy.”
“Careful there, old man. I might start to think you’re warming to me.” Daniel stretches his arm again. “I also have experience with these people. I was around the last time Helena Slade and her Blood Defenders surfaced. I hunted them. I faced her. I should have killed her myself.”
“You may yet get your chance.” Trent turns and looks toward Holyrood. “So that’s it? We’re going after them?”
Daniel nods. “We’re on our own for now, and I’m tired of running.”
Edwin grins, and his fangs flash white in the moonlight. “Then let’s get hunting.”
Chapter Eighteen
Scanning driveways for old cars we can hijack turns out to be a hopeless task. We don’t find anything older than a 1995 Volkswagen that wouldn’t have fit us all, even if Edwin could get it started.
Time for plan B.
It’s the dead of night now, and though there’s not much traffic, we’re careful to stick to the shadows as we creep through unfenced backyards, looking for houses without any lights on but with large vehicles in the driveway.
“Wait here, now,” Daniel tells us when we’ve found one. “We don’t need a crowd to draw attention.”
I hate letting him go alone, but he’s our best shot. Who will remember seeing his dark shadow crossing the yard, even if they look out the window? And he can take care of things inside if he is spotted.
He’s back a few minutes later, carrying keys to the seven-seat minivan in the driveway. “It sounded like they were asleep,” he tells us.
I hope so. Otherwise they might wonder about the sound of their engine in the driveway.
I let Trent take shotgun—the navigator’s position. He may have lost his partner, but he’s going to have to try to use his rusty old skills.
“Road trip,” Edwin calls from the back seat as Daniel pulls out of the driveway.
No one answers. Edwin sighs. “I miss Lucille.”
Trent bats at the baby shoes hanging from the rearview mirror. “Lucy would have found some good in all of this, I’m sure.”
“Or called on her fairies to save us,” Hannabelle adds.
Something has changed in the group, but it takes me a moment to figure out what it is. They don’t seem happy, exactly, but their faces are brighter, in spite of the recent tragedy.
They have direction.
And, I realize, purpose. And what’s life—or death—without that?
There’s no room in them for fear of meeting the same fate as Lucille, who enjoyed her existence as she wished within the confines that were placed around her. No vampire wants to meet true death and see everything ended, but she didn’t do too badly while she was here, all things considered. She did what made her happy and left this world surrounded by friends. There’s little to mourn, except for our own loss.
There will be no funeral. I wonder whether a bloodbath can count as a proper wake. Guess we’ll see.
The gas station is the next stop, and far more risky. At least we know they’re open late.
There’s a car at the pump. We pull around to the side of the building and wait until they leave.
“Can any of you drive?” Daniel asks.
Edwin leans forward. “It’s been a while, but I probably remember.”
Genevieve rolls her eyes. “He stole the house van three times befor
e they learned to lock the keys away. He drives like a maniac, but he can do it.”
Daniel reluctantly passes the keys back and fishes a few coins from the cup holder. “Keep it running, just in case.”
Genevieve and Daniel step out of the van with me. He lets her fuss for a minute, tightening his bandage and helping him into Trent’s jacket before they follow me into the store. My lie detector and my cleanup crew, should the need for either arise.
The guy’s eyes widen when he sees me. “You lived.”
“Sure thing, Rod,” I say, glancing at his nametag. No point getting into semantics.
He shakes his head. “I thought for sure you was like this dog I had that got hit by a car. Ran off like a shot, seemed fine. Found him dead in a ditch two days later.”
I force a smile. “Right. Anyway, I’m looking for the woman who hit me. Insurance thing.”
Rod gapes like a fish on a line. “She was looking for you, too,” he says. “Said to call if you came looking for her. I bet she could be here in five minutes.” He reaches for the phone.
I step closer to the counter and place my hand over his. He jerks his fingers away from my cold touch. “Don’t. Please. I just want her contact information for my lawyer.” I put on my most appealing and tragic expression. It likely won’t work in the state I’m in now, though. I must look like I’ve been sleeping in the woods since the accident. “Can you tell me her name?”
He gapes again. He really does look like a hairy codfish.
“I ah… you got a warrant?”
“Please,” I say again. “I’m not after revenge or anything.” I glance back at Genevieve, and she nods. “Where does she live? You said on the hill?”
“Yeah, but…” He thinks for a moment, then stands up straighter. “I’m going to have to ask you to leave. Mrs. Peters might have made a mistake, but I won’t have you harassing her. Send the cops in here if you need to. They’re right down the street.”
He reaches for the phone again, as though he’s ready to call them himself.