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 dangling 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 passersby 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
tsk
ed. “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.
The tall elegant man who’d made a beeline for her had Consanguine written all over him. Though he was dressed in the style many of the vampire imitators favored, something about him made him stand out on an avenue already filled with the strange and bizarre.
Maddox had quickly slipped into a nearby alley, taking himself temporarily out of Jesse’s line of sight. They deliberately hadn’t told her how they operated when the opportunity to nab one of the undead presented itself.
Fishing his cell out of his pocket, Maddox hit the speed dial, letting the phone ring three times. Sam didn’t pick up, but they didn’t really need to speak. By now, the plan ran like a well-oiled machine. Sam would pass the message on to Reyen and they’d be good to go.
The countdown began. Everyone was in place. Even the elements were falling into place perfectly. The streets were mostly deserted, with nary a soul in sight.
Maddox peered around the corner. Sure enough, Jesse and her man of the hour had begun a leisurely stroll toward the opposite end of the block. Once they crossed two more streets, they’d soon arrive at one of the more popular after-hour hangouts; a place where normal people weren’t allowed, and wouldn’t want to go, anyway. Part bondage, part kink, and definitely strange, Mystique catered exclusively to a Goth-only clientele.
His chest tightened. There was only one chance to get it right. Once Jesse disappeared into the club—if she was actually stupid enough to go in—they wouldn’t be able to back her up. She’d be on her own, untrained and unprepared to defend herself. It was like sending a boxer into the ring with both hands tied behind his back.
And it wasn’t right.
Why the hell do I let Reyen talk me into these things?
he silently groused. Reyen might consider Jesse little more than garbage to be tossed aside, but Maddox didn’t.
Until we know what she really is, she needs to be kept safe. If she’s what I think she is . . .
He didn’t have any more time to think about it.
Right on cue, Sam Chen’s Pontiac sped up the street. The car rolled to a stop at the light, deliberately skimming over the area marked for pedestrians. Anyone walking across the street would have to make a wide berth around the front of the car.
Just as Jesse and her companion began to do exactly that, Reyen zoomed up and took a sharp left turn, almost running the two pedestrians down.
In the blink of an eye, the two men took action. Skidding his bike to a sharp stop, Reyen leapt forward. His hand shot up, making direct contact with the tall man’s chest. Armed with an amped-up stun gun, he shot several thousand volts of electricity straight into his unwitting victim.
The vampire crumbled.
Reyen caught the falling man, neatly flipping him over one broad shoulder before he hit the ground. By this time, Sam was out of the Pontiac and the trunk was open. Even as Reyen lowered the unconscious man into the yawning space, Chen was busy applying a set of solid-silver cuffs.
Maddox marveled at the speed and precision with which the men worked. Barring the use of a shotgun, which wasn’t always the best choice at certain times, they had a lot of good weapons at their disposal. The first was silver, the only metal a vampire couldn’t resist or break through. The ever-trusty silver bullet was also a useful weapon. Even though the Telave had a self-regenerative system, any wound caused by silver would not heal. It festered. If the vampire managed to survive the wound, it was usually badly scarred. Tasers were another good thing. One good shock totally blew their equilibrium. Once a vamp was zapped and cuffed, it was weak as a kitten.