Silently, he moved aside, and we stepped out into the muggy air. The first thing I noticed was a custom chopper, parked next to my Jeep. I knew it had to be Eli’s, and I inspected it. A Martin Brothers Silverback, it was titanium platinum with some pretty sick black scroll-work on the tank and fenders, a wide, fat back tire, and a narrower front one. “Wicked bike,” I offered, and I meant it. I’d always wanted one.
“Ride’s sweet,” he said. “We’ll take it tonight.”
I admitted only to myself that the thought of it thrilled me. At Preacher’s, Estelle bustled about making breakfast, but my surrogate grandfather kept his eyes trained on Eli and me. I could tell he knew something was up. Not that anything had happened, but that there was something in the air between us, something dangerous and palpable. He ignored it, though, and we finished our breakfast and left. I couldn’t help thinking the whole time,
What the freak are they putting in my tea?
Drinking it just wasn’t the same anymore, which was a little depressing. I’d loved the tea, back when I’d thought it was just tea. Maybe one day, I’d get used to the idea that it was now for the sake of my life, not just for the hell of it.
I made quick work of finishing Eli’s makeover; I snipped his bangs to make them jagged and swept across his forehead, partially hanging over his eyes, and had him change into a pair of black junkie-fit jeans, a gray ripped shirt, and buckled combat boots. I helped him strap on the leather finger cuff and noticed that he already wore a leather band around his neck with a silver medallion. Then I walked around him, examining him thoroughly, and was pretty satisfied with the results.
Almost.
I looked hard at him. “You need a piercing.”
Eli raised a brow. “Where?”
Studying his face and following that raised brow, I pointed to it. “Right there. Small silver hoop.”
Surprisingly, Eli shrugged. “Whatever you say.” He glanced toward the door and inclined his head. “My brothers and sister are downstairs.”
“I guess I might as well get them a key made,” I muttered as I jogged down the stairs. I opened the door, and Phin, Luc, and Josie stood, waiting. “Come on in,” I said, and led the way upstairs. “Check out your bro.”
“Whoa,” Phin said, walking around Eli and ruffling his hair. “Goin’ dark, huh, Eligius?” he said, and Luc joined in, patting Eli on the ass. “Nice threads,” he added.
“If you’re going to go where we’re going to go, I suggest you get some of the same,” I said.
“I’ll try the skins, but no one’s touching my hair,” Luc said, threading his fingers through his careless dark blond locks. “Hell and no.”
“Puss,” laughed Phin, then turned to me. “My hair’s too short, but we’ll go along with the clothes.”
“Piercings, too,” I added, then opened a drawer in the kitchen and grabbed a notepad. “Here’s the name of another ink shop that does piercings,” I said, scribbling the address, tearing it off the pad, and handing it to Eli. “It’s on the west side, not too far from Mullet’s. You remember how to get to his house?”
Eli gave me a wicked smile, and it made his blue eyes dance beneath the pitch-black jagged bangs. “Yeah, Riley. I got it.” He glanced at Josie. “You stay here with her, squirt,” he said. “Watch her back.”
“Yes!” Josie said excitedly. “I brought some drawings to show you,” she said to me, patting the backpack she carried. “I’ve got them on my laptop.”
I hid my skepticism at having a fifteen-year-old vampiress watch my back, and nodded. “Cool. I’ve got about an hour before the shop opens.” I inclined my head. “Let’s have a look.” Josie busied herself setting up her laptop, and I found Eli’s gaze; he gave an approving nod.
“We’ll be back in a few,” he said. In less than a blink, the Dupré brothers had disappeared down the stairs. An accompanying roar of three motorcycle engines echoed in the alley behind Inksomnia at once, and I glanced at Josie.
“Boys and their toys,” she said very maturely, and I had no option but to agree and laugh.
“Ain’t that the truth,” I said. For a split second I paused and thought about the Duprés. Even though I’d seen the horror Eli could transform into, I had the hardest time picturing Phin, Luc, and Josie doing the same thing. Especially Josie. It all seemed so surreal, fantastic, and mind-boggling at once, and I wasn’t positive my brain would ever fully comprehend and embrace it.
I turned my head, gasped a muffled scream, and stumbled back. Josie stood no more than two feet away, her sweet, youthful face contorted into the same unhinged-jaw, jagged-teeth terror that I’d seen on Eli and Gilles. Her white eyes stared curiously at my reaction, and once she’d seen it, her face immediately re-formed back to the sweet teen Josie I knew.
“There,” she said matter-of-factly, a bit arrogant, and with a wicked little smile. “Now you don’t have to wonder anymore.” She inclined her head to the open laptop on the counter. “Wanna see my pics?” she said, as if she’d not just completely transformed in front of me.
“Whoa,” I muttered, and tried to force my racing heart to slow its pace. “Okay. Let’s see.” I scrolled through the file and inspected Josie’s art—amazing, highly detailed sketches of everything from Pictish symbols to lizards and spiders to faces reflected in the infamous stain-glassed window of Notre Dame. They literally blew my mind.
“Wow—this is your brother?” Josie said from the living room.
I glanced up and noticed that she was looking at the picture I’d taken of Seth from the top of Tybee Lighthouse in June. “Yep, that’s Seth,” I answered, and just hearing his name out loud made my heart heavy.
“God, he’s
so cute
,” Josie muttered, and continued to stare at it.
I couldn’t help but grin. “These are seriously fantastic,” I told her, scrolling through more drawings. “Despite the fact that you’re over a hundred and fifty years old, you’re too young for me to hire,” I said, “but I’d love to commission some of your art. They’d make kick-ass tats.”
“Seriously?” Josie said excitedly. “That’d be freaking awesome!”
“Good. Okay it with your mom and dad, first,” I said, then thought how funny it was that her mom and dad were nineteenth-century vampires. “Listen—I’ve got to get ready. Help yourself to . . . whatever,” I told her, and headed to my bedroom. “I’ll be right back.
“Okay,” Josie answered.
After a quick shower, I changed into a pair of black side-laced skinny jeans, a gray T-back Inksomnia tank, and black chunky Mary Janes, and added a black lace choker. Pulling my hair back, but leaving my red-streaked bangs free, I added makeup and was ready to go.
Nyx took right to Josie, and vice versa—just as I’d figured. There wasn’t a soul around who could refuse Nyx—even if that soul was damned. I’d simply told Nyx that Josie was Eli’s younger sister, and after I’d shown her Josie’s incredible artwork, they hit it off.
It was just after noon when Eli, Phin, and Luc walked into Inksomnia, and so stunned was I by their changes that I paused in midink to stare in appreciation. Don’t get me wrong—they were totally fan-freaking-fine before. All three had the bad-boy look, reckless, faded jeans, T-shirt, boots. But now? Now they’d stroll straight into the Panic Room and no one would be the wiser; they’d think the Duprés were truly into the Goth/urban scene. I grinned. “Looks like Mullet did you guys right,” I said, and inspected all three. “Poster boys of Gnaw Bone Brand Urban Wear.”
“Sweet,” Nyx said with approval, and I introduced around the room. Nyx hugged everyone.
Phin’s already close-cut hair fit perfectly with the dark gray urban decayed pants, black ripped T-shirt, and thick-buckled boots. He walked up to me, grinned, and stuck out his tongue. “Ouch,” I said as I checked out the new silver tongue ball. “How’d that feel?”
“I’ll tell ya later,” he said, smirking.
Luc, who, true to his word, hadn’t changed a single strand of hair on his head, stood with his arms folded over his chest, his postapocalyptic jeans and ripped gray shirt making him look like a Panic Room regular. I peered closer and noted the small silver hoop pierced through his bottom lip and the silver balls adorning his ear lobes. I smiled and gave a nod of approval. “Nice.”
Eli stood back, watching me with intensity as I inspected his brothers, until I turned my full attention to him. “Come here,” I said, and he walked closer. A small silver hoop pierced his left brow, and I admit—it was dead sexy. I nodded. “Good job.” I ducked my head back to the tribal serpent I was inking on the shoulder of an army guy, and vaguely listened as Nyx carried on, showing the other Duprés the ins and outs of Inksomnia. She uploaded one of Josie’s art files to our computer, then printed it out as a tattoo transfer. Josie squealed and declared that it was totally cool.
After a while, all four Duprés left and went upstairs for their two-hour vampire siesta. Nyx finished up early and headed out, while I inked a few more clients. Eli strolled in while I was wrapping up a barbed armband on a young woman who taught English to seventh graders. For some reason, I found that freaking hilarious. As I gave her samples of ointment and paperwork, I saw Eli watching me closely. When Gene the Raven cawed as the woman exited Inksomnia, I locked the door and flipped the sign to CLOSED. I stood staring out into the waning afternoon as tourists wearing Bermuda shorts, T-shirts, and capris bustled by, and noticed the dark clouds swirling overhead and moving in over the riverfront. Even indoors I could feel the change as something dark, ominous, settled over the city. Maybe it was because I was privy to it; maybe it was because I anticipated it. Either way, my adrenaline rushed through my body at the thought of facing unimaginable foes—ones who held my brother prisoner—and I couldn’t help but wonder what Seth was doing at that very moment. Or even whether he knew he was Seth anymore. Eli was suddenly standing beside me, his presence heating my skin.
“Tonight will be the beginning,” he said with an assured voice. “If you have any hesitations at all, you’d better speak up.” I glanced up, and at the same time, he looked down. “Once we start, there’s no turning back, and things will only get harder. If they sense you, they’ll hunt you. And trust me—they won’t stop until they have you.”
“Hesitations aren’t in my genetic makeup,” I answered tightly, fearless, even though I was sure by
they
Eli meant
Seth and his friends
. “As long as those effers have my brother, I’m in.”
Eli turned me around and pushed me against the wall, his hands braced on either side of my head. He appeared more . . . menacing with his black hair, pale skin, pierced brow, and darker looks. “If they ever caught a whiff of that blood running through your veins, you would not be able to stop them.” He cocked his head and studied me. “They would descend upon you like a pack of hyenas. Your brother’s strength and agility grows every day. Only, their stomachs aren’t prepared for human blood yet—and that’s what saved you the other night. They have the craving, the desire—but don’t know how to act on it.” He frowned. “Yet.”
“So teach me how to protect myself,” I said, sensations rippling through me as Eli crowded me against the brick wall of the shop. I knew then that my desires had become his.
Knew
it. They’d become powerful and all consuming, forcing the edges of the spacious tattoo parlor to slam in around me. “If I can’t beat them, or outrun them, teach me how to kill them.”
A look of disbelief crossed Eli’s features. “Would you be able to ram a dagger through your brother’s heart if he came after you?” he asked.
Sickening nausea crept up my throat at the thought of it, and I knew I’d die before ever turning on Seth. “No,” I said. I lifted my chin and met his gaze. “But the Arcoses I’d kill. No problem.”
Eli studied me for several seconds, and I waited as patiently as I could. Patience wasn’t exactly a trait I’d ever claimed, and the lack of it was now kicked into overdrive as Eli’s body hovered so close to mine, silent, powerful, exotic. Slowly, he pushed away from me.
“I’ll speak to my father,” he said. “And he’ll speak with Preacher.” Although he’d pushed away from me, he was still close, and I swallowed the desire to grab him by the collar of his already ripped shirt and yank his mouth down to mine. “There are ways for a mortal to kill a vampire, but they’re old ways—primitive, and not for the squeamish.” He dragged a knuckle over my jaw, and I regarded him as his gaze raked over me. “You squeamish, Poe?”
My body reacted without my brain’s permission; I jammed my knee sharply in Eli’s crotch. Although I didn’t get the same reaction I’d gotten dozens of times before with mortals, I was fascinated to watch as Eli’s eyes dilated just a hair, and he stifled the shallowest of gasps. Balls were balls, I guessed. Still, he stood over me, and a small, wicked smile lifted the corner of his mouth. I grinned back. “Not squeamish at all.”
He nodded. “Dirty street fighting will buy you minimal time with a vampire,” he said matter-of-factly. “More than anything, they’ll be intrigued. But it won’t stop them.”
I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest. “So when you say primitive, you mean wooden-stake-through-the-heart primitive?”
His eyes never left mine. “No. That only works in Hollywood. In real life it’s silver, and it can’t just pierce the heart. It has to go all the way through it. Ultimately it’s best if ripped from the chest wall, driven with silver, and burned.”
I considered that. “Sounds wicked disgusting, but I could do it.”
Eli glanced away and gave an arrogant laugh—a totally mortal guy’s move, and it looked even sexier on a vampire. He glanced back at me, then out into the afterlight, and inclined his head. “Go get ready. We leave in an hour.”
“An hour? Why so early?” I asked. “We don’t just show up at the Panic Room at seven o’clock. We have time to kill.” I looked around. “Ever think about getting some ink?” I asked, and inspected him. I admit it. I’d wanted to ink him from the moment I’d laid eyes on him.
Blue eyes fastened to me, studied me intently for several moments. “Really? And why’s that?”