Eventide

Part Three Malevolence

“Riley?”

I blink, and Eli’s face returns to normal. “Yeah?”

He studies me longer. Scrutinizing. “We’re here.”

The night air surrounds us, a blanket of darkness void of streetlights. I blink. We’re at the Amtrak station just off of 516. These hallucinations are beginning to be a pain in my friggin’ ass. “Okay, let’s do it.” I unbuckle and swing out of the Jeep. Riggs is already standing at the hood.

He draws a deep breath, then jumps onto the hood. He glances first at Eli, then me. “I can smell ’em.”

“Well let’s go then,” I say with way more enthusiasm than I really feel. I’m getting used to hiding my true feelings again now that Eli can’t read my thoughts. Dangerous. Seriously dangerous.

I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore, but I can certainly interject my thoughts into your mind. Just as you can. So if you need me, Riley, for God’s sake, call me.

Startled by his sudden mind infiltration, I look at Eli over my shoulder. Is it a coincidence, my thinking of his inability to read my mind and his weird interjections? “I will.”

I mean it.

So do I.

“Better,” Eli says. “Now come on.”

The three of us head out into the night. It’s about nine p.m. With the Jeep stashed down an unused maintenance lane, we cover the mass of metal as we search the yard, old train cars, unused track, toolsheds. In the distance, the main Amtrak station depot has a faint glow as the lights burn. I can hear the people inside, what few there seemed to be. Some wait to catch a train. Some to pick up a passenger. All going about their ordinary lives.

None privy to the extraordinary creatures that slip through the night.

The train yard is full of shadows, and Eli leads us to a row of empty cars. In unison, we swing and bound up the side of the car closest to us until we land on top. The wind blows and I catch a whiff of something dead. A rabbit maybe? It’s been dead a while, I can tell that. The stench is nauseating. I almost gag.

Eli stands, a silhouette. He turns his head, inclines it, and without words, Riggs and I follow as the eldest Dupré begins to leap the train cars. Eli’s eyesight is nocturnal—he can see just about anything, at any distance. His hearing is acute, but not as severely as mine. Nor is his scenting as specific as mine.

I sense them. They’re here. Three of them. I sniff the air. They’ve just fed.

Across the yard to the left, behind the maintenance sheds.

Eli doesn’t question me; he doesn’t even look at me or acknowledge the words I slipped into his mind. Instead he leaps off the train car and moves in the direction I say, then cuts left behind the sheds. I head right. Riggs is two steps behind me. We silently bound over stacks of railroad ties, steel beams, cargo trailers. In seconds we’re in a maze of metal and wood. In the distance, the nine-thirty overnight train to Chicago blows its whistle. No, I can’t tell the destination by the whistle. I Googled the train schedule on my iPhone.

Ahead of us, between two cargo trailers, are the newlings. On the ground, a motionless heap that had no doubt been a live heap not too long ago. The scent wafting off the dead human sickens me, and I suddenly realize it isn’t rotting flesh or decay. The trace of remaining blood is stale. Stagnant. Dead. It all but chokes me.

I wonder how I can even detect it. Or worse—why it bothers me so much.

All at once, Eli, Riggs, and I surround the newlings. The first one notices us and instantly morphs. He lunges straight for Eli. I take my eyes off of them and find the other two. Behind me, I hear the newling gurgle as Eli twists off his head. I’ve learned that sound and know it anywhere. Both remaining newlings have turned, fangs dropped, and they bound for Riggs and me. Briefly, I keep my eye on Riggs. I forget how talented the little prick is. He sweeps a leg out and knocks one newling to the ground and is on him immediately, plunging a silver dirk into his heart. I turn and almost get coldcocked by the newling attacking me. He’s big, out of control, and as rabid as a new vamp comes. I know he will not go down easily.

This newling is fast. Fucking fast. In the blink of an eye he’s on me, has me by my throat and is lifting me up. My hearing picks up Eli’s voice. He’s swearing. Now he’s running. Unlike a newling, I have to have air to breathe, and this idiot is squeezing so hard I can barely draw in a breath. I can feel my larynx crushing under the weight of his fingers. But before Eli reaches me, I’ve got my legs wrapped around the newling’s neck. He’s strong as hell, but so am I. With one hand I reach for the silver sheathed at my waist, grab it, and jack it upward. It plunges into the newling’s eye and, as I thought, he turns me loose. I yank out the blade and bury it in his chest. He stands there, stunned, and begins to convulse. I deliver a single kick. Down he goes. Standing there in the train yard, surrounded by shadows, I bend over at the waist and breathe.

“Nicely done if I do say so myself, Poe,” says Riggs. He casually leans an elbow against my shoulder. “Couldn’t have done a better job. That blade in the eye thing—” He produced an exaggerated shudder. “Sick, Poe. Truly sick.”

I slide a glance sideways. “Glad to amuse,” I say, and am at least glad he’s stopped calling me babe. Then I shoot a quick look beside me. Eli stands, wordlessly. Scowling. I’m pretty sure that translates into Are you okay but he doesn’t say it. Instead, he inclines his head. “Let’s get out of here.” I know Eli battles within himself to keep from overprotecting me. It’s a good move on his part. He shows his faith by allowing me to round the train cars alone. I’d probably just get pissed off if he nagged me, and he knows I’m getting fed up with the overprotection. Maybe he’s chilling after all.

We comb the rest of the train yard and find nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, newlings aren’t going to be traipsing around with their fangs out and pupils all red and freaky. They’re hiding. Waiting. Watching from the shadows.

And in the dark corners of Savannah, there are plenty of pickings for the newlings.

Through the back streets of Garden City we run. Garden City, in all its stinky sulfur-from-the-paper-mill glory, is an industrial town just outside of Savannah. It’s still in Chatham County, but honestly—it ain’t purty. Okay, I take that back. The nature reserve just outside the city limits is pretty cool. Lots of alligators and low-country wildlife. I haven’t been back there in a while, though. No telling what you might find now.

Even the gators might be in hiding.

The night air, salty with a tinge of sulfur, washes over my face as I run. My muscles stretch, my lungs expand, and for a split second I feel invigorated. Alive.

Then that nagging weird feeling comes over me and that split-second euphoria evaporates. I’m just running on instinct now, half-ass following Eli. Like a robot. A vampire-slaying robot.

Eli runs just ahead of me and he darts down an alley in a dark subdivision behind Piggly Wiggly. Kinda difficult to speak of something dangerous and hideous as a bloodsucking newling and say the words Piggly Wiggly at the same time. Oxymoron, almost. Still. It is what it is.

“Look there,” Riggs says, and points over my shoulder. “At three in the morning it’s never a good thing to see a group of kids huddled against a wall down a dead-end street.”

I glance at him. He merely lifts his dark brows.

“You got anything, Riley?” Eli asks without looking at me. I know what he wants from me. His eyesight kicks ass, but my other senses are better.

Closing my eyes, I draw in a deep inhalation and let the particles settle against my tongue. I do it again. My eyes pop open and search the canopy of oaks lining the old street a few blocks ahead. “Up there.”

“How many?” Riggs asks.

“Four,” I respond. I can detect each separate scent of the newlings. I can even tell their sex. “Three males, one female.” They’re hunting the humans on the street below.

“Let’s split,” I say, and glance at Eli. I can immediately tell he hates that idea. Again. “Less chance of one of them slipping through and getting to the humans,” I add. “You know it’s the only way.” I quickly check myself. I say humans as if I’m no longer part of the species. Weird.

Eli mutters something under his breath—in French—and gives a short nod. The thing about Eligius Dupré when searching for newlings? He’s all business until the business is done. He knows what we have to do and will do it, even if he hates it. Like now.

“Riggs, you take the ledge,” Eli says, and points to the rooftop adjacent to the huddled humans. “Riley, you get the house next door,” he inclines his head, “and I’ll take the rooftop behind them. Wait for my signal. We don’t want to have to fight the humans and the newlings at once.”

I wait no longer. I nod and slip into the shadows and in three effortless leaps am on top of the roof next to where the humans stand against the wall. I glance over and notice Riggs is already in place. I can’t see Eli but I am sure he’s exactly where he said he would be. The night is stony still. Not a single breeze blowing now and the heartbeats of five humans resonate in my ears. The humans’ low, muttered mumbling sounds like a clan of monks chanting. The thumping begins to jumble in my head, run together, confuses me. I have to shut my eyes for a moment, breathe. Concentrate and push the sporadic beats aside and focus on what’s in front of me. I’m having trouble, though. Almost as if something is already inside my head, taking up all the extra room I have. I shake my head to clear my thoughts, and try harder to focus again.

A moment later, Eli is bounding off his rooftop. Despite the confusion in my head, I keep my eyes on Eli. He’s crouching now. He lunges. I follow. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Riggs do the same.

We are now all together in the canopy of live oaks. I never was a tree climber but damn if I’m one now. I’m closest to the female so I take her first. She has short spiky black hair with red tips. Her eyes narrow to slits when she sees me, the pinpoint red pupils all but glow.

“Look what’s come to visit,” the female says out loud. Through the darkness I see the other pairs of eyes staring at me. Good. They’re so fixated on me that they don’t see Eli and Riggs.

“Back off, Seline,” one of the males says. “I’d like a little piece of that fine ass before you rip her heart out.”

Seline hisses. I roll my eyes.

Take the female down and get out of here, Eli says inside my head. I don’t hesitate—he and Riggs have my back. I simply wait my turn. It comes pretty damn fast.

The female’s quick—and goddamn strong. She grabs my throat and pins me against the rough bark. I’m distracted by something. Sounds. A particular sound, and I hear it all around me.

It’s blood rushing through veins.

“You look scared, bitch,” the female said, close to my face. “I like that.”

“Yeah, I bet you do,” I say, my fingers wrapping around the hilt of my silver. Quickly, I bury the blade into her heart. Her eyes widen and she begins to convulse. Problem is, she still has me by the throat. She falls to the ground. I go down with her. After slamming against the spindly branches of the oak, the she-vamp’s body hits the sidewalk. Mine hits right beside her. Unable to help it, I let out an umph.

Shit.

The low murmurings of the humans totally cease for several seconds, then picks back up, grows louder, frantic, and as I stand, I glance over. They’ve, of course, spotted us, although I’m pretty sure they have no clue what’s actually going on. But since they’re up to something illegal anyway, they take one look at the body shaking on the cracked pavement beside me and strut right on over. A string of swear words floats through the crisp, still air, accompanied by idiotic laughter and the heady scent of Mary Jane. They haul ass in different directions. Damn, if they only knew that their high, pot-smoking butts have just been spared. Freaking idiots.

A body is thrown to the ground not four feet away. A male, convulsing. My eyes fix on his face, contorted, his jaw unhinged, fangs jagged and long. Nothing elegant about these guys—at least not in the Hollywood sense. His limbs contract, his body pulls into itself and for a moment—a solid split second—he looks at me. Those red pupils fix on mine. Pleading, almost. I look away, sickened. By what, I’m not sure. By what he’d become? Or by what I do to them now? Eli appears behind me, and Riggs drops from the tree.

Eli grabs my arm. “You okay?” he asks, and doesn’t wait for an answer. He checks me over, his eyes studying my body intensely.

“Yeah,” I answer, pulling my arm back. “I’m fine, Eli. Seriously.” I’m not, though, and it’s anything but the few feet I fell from the tree. That’s nothing. Didn’t even hurt.

I’m distracted, though. Something’s pulling me in all directions and I’m having a helluva time ignoring it. Part of it’s the constant killing. Yeah, I know they’re bloodsucking vamps. But they weren’t always and it bothers me. Go figure. Riley Poe with a conscience. For some reason, I keep it all to myself. I don’t want anyone knowing of my weaknesses, I guess. Besides, I can handle it. I can handle me.

Eli’s glare tells me he knows I’m bullshitting him. But I know he can’t dig in my mind anymore and I let him stew. “Let’s go,” I say, and begin to move up the sidewalk. “We still have to hit the industry park before we meet the others.” I adjust my blades and continue on. There’s hesitancy, but Eli follows. Riggs falls in behind us.

The industrial park is tall concrete pillars and steel buildings. All is quiet; happy to report not a single drop of blood or vampire dust is shed. Riggs is a little miffed about it, and I’m starting to think he digs the slaying a little too much. It takes us all of eight minutes to split up and scour the park. I use my senses to lead me, and thankfully they lead me nowhere. As I slip through the shadows, I inhale. Listen. Still, nothing unusual.

It’s close to four a.m. I’m making the last turn before I circle back to meet the others when the feeling hits me. Almost…a sensation, and one that begins to crawl up my spine and spread through my arms, fingers, and over my face. A muffled thump-thump resonates within me. It sounds far off, almost as if in a tunnel. I feel myself moving toward it. The sound pulls me, and the faster I move, the stronger the beat.

The heartbeat.

Then, I see her.

I stop in my tracks and ease against a brick wall, pressing my back against its scratchy surface until I blend in with the shadows and overhanging moss. With each beat that resounds within me, another sensation stirs. A craving. A desire so strong it makes my jaws ache, my stomach ping, and my breathing slow way down. Through hooded eyes I watch her. With the streetlamp casting a glow against her skin I see her perfectly. She has a slight build and shoulder-length red hair, and wears glasses. She sits on a bench, alone, crying. I pause.

Go to her, Riley. She has what you desire. What you need. You can see she no longer wants life. She weeps because her heart’s been shattered. You can comfort her. Do it…

I turn my head to the left, then right. No one there. The voice, I realize, is in my head. Urging me. I want it to stop so badly, I cup my ears with my hands. It doesn’t work though. The voice continues.

Go to her. Do not hesitate or she’ll get away. This is your chance, Riley Poe. Listen with not your ears but your being. Her life force rushing through her with each beat. You know you want it. Soon you’ll realize you need it. It will satisfy that unquenchable thirst. You have it, don’t you Riley? A thirst that no drink can quench. A hunger no food can satisfy. She can help you. It will tame the darkness growing inside of you. Do it now, Riley Poe…

“No,” I whisper out loud, but it’s a weak whisper. The girl’s heartbeat becomes louder, my senses homing in on everything that creates it. With each thump-thump that echoes through my body, desperation builds within me until it reaches such a pitch, I brace myself against the wall to keep from sliding to the sidewalk. I…want it. Need it. Something pulses inside of me, driving me forward.

Yes, that’s right. You’re weakening, aren’t you, Riley Poe? Save yourself. Go to her…

My insides are on fire now—a burning that feels as though no amount of water will extinguish the flames. With my stare fixed on the girl, I move slowly forward and silently toward her.…

“There you are,” Riggs says. “Been looking for you. Eli’s on fire, so heads up.”

My eyes focus on Riggs. “What do you mean?” I ask.

Riggs shrugs, and the light from a nearby post gleams off his dark hair. “He’s run around the industrial park twice looking for you.”

Shooting a quick glance left and right, I turn my gaze back to Riggs. Confusion muddles my brain. “I…was right here all along.”

Riggs walks closer and peers at me with a questioning look. “You okay, babe?” he says, ducking his head and inspecting my face. “You look kinda funny.”

I feel a little spacey, light-headed, but I don’t confess it. “Yeah, you always look kinda funny. Where’s Eli?”

“Where’ve you been?” Eli says, suddenly beside me.

I look up into his penetrating stare. In the darkness his eyes all but glow. “Thought I saw something. I came right back here.”

As if weighing my words, Eli studies me. Concern pinches his brows together and it’s a look that happens more frequently now. “You didn’t see anything then?” he asks.

“No.” I don’t know what I saw. Everything is a blur to me now.

Eli pulls me against him with one arm and presses his lips to my temple. “Let’s go,” he says quietly. “It’ll be dawn soon.” His cell vibrates, and he pulls it out of his pocket and lifts it to his ear. “Yeah. We were just leaving. Be there in fifteen.”

With a quick glance at Riggs, then me, Eli takes off. We both fall in behind him. Crossing Highway 21 at the side exit of the industrial park, we slip behind an old run-down oil and lube and hit the woods behind it. We reach the train yard within minutes, find the Jeep and climb in. Eli drives. From my peripheral vision, I can see he silently watches me. I know he’s worried—I am too. I feel like something’s missing, as if I fell asleep and woke up hours later. As we pull onto the service road, I rest my head and stare at the scenery as it flashes by. Quickly, we make our way to Bay Street, then hit Whitaker and take the squares slowly. We see nothing out of the ordinary. When Eli pulls into a parking space next to Forsyth Park, the others are there, waiting. The sun is a thin golden crack, edging through the clouds overhead, and the light surrounding us is hazy. A slight mist hangs low to the ground. Riggs leaps from the back seat over the edge of the Jeep. I use the door.

Seth immediately comes to me. “You okay?” he asks, carefully watching me, inspecting my face, my eyes.

“I’m fine, bro,” I lie. “Glad the night’s over though. I’m exhausted.”

He nods and drapes an arm over my shoulder. “I think I could eat fifty Krystals by myself.”

I glance sideways at him. “That has nothing to do with your tendencies, Seth Poe. You could manage that before.”

My brother grins at me, and just seeing his warm, smiling face settles me somewhat.

“Anything unusual?” Phin asks. He’s talking to Eli, but looking at me.

“Just your average cocky newlings,” Eli responds. “Mostly male, a few females. All youth.”

“Same with us,” Luc says, and moves to stand next to me. “Zetty nearly got his ass beaten by a female.”

I glance at Zetty. He merely growls.

“There’s a place down on the Vernon,” Josie says, leaning against Phin’s truck. She has her hair pulled back into a single braid. “Don’t forget about that.”

“That’s right,” Phin says. The hazy early-morning light blends with the porcelain smoothness of his perfect features, which stand in contrast to the darkened area on his jaw that would be a beard, if he let it grow out. “An old dock house. Pretty big. Looks like several have been staying there.”

“I could smell them,” Josie says, and squinches her nose. “Newlings stink.” She regards me silently, her mouth tilts into a grin.

“You should’ve seen Riley,” Riggs brags. “She pulls this wicked-sick leg lock around this newling’s neck.” He throws a proud smile at me. “Kick ass.”

“Then you should watch it, worm,” warns Luc, who gives me a wink.

Traffic begins to move more frequently past the park, and Eli walks over to me. “Ready to go?” he asks.

“Yeah,” I say, and I mean it. “I’m tired.”

“Later, guys,” Eli says, and we get into the Jeep. Seth walks me around to my side.

“I’ll see ya later, okay?” he says, and gives me a quick hug. “I’m not too tired and we’re going to work on our project for a while.” Seth inclines his head to Josie.

Josie shrugs. “My mother loves to give us school projects. You know, like for science. I think she has us making a volcano soon. And a constellation mobile. I’ve made too many to count in the past but she loves them, even if they sound a little young. I’ve even asked if we can do something cool, like dissect a cow’s eyeball or something. No go. But we’ll study several things with the microscope.”

I nod. “Sounds good. Catch you guys later,” I say.

We all part ways; Eli and I head back to Inksomnia.

As we drive through Savannah’s squares, even the annoying sounds of traffic—horns blowing, people shouting, and somewhere close by, a jackhammer—none of it is able to keep my eyes open. My lids feel heavy, and they drift shut. The sounds around me, even the wind, extinguish. I vaguely recall my body being lifted and carried indoors. Next thing I know, the world around me is pitch black, and I’m dead to everything except the sound of my sluggish heartbeat.

It’s nighttime, and darkness envelops me. Not just the physical lack of sun, but inside of me is dark, also. As I walk along the sidewalk, it consumes me. I’m like a cat, always on alert to catch something unsuspecting off guard. Play with it for a while. Sink my teeth into it. Kill it.

What? What the hell was that? I stop in midtracks and look around. The street is empty except for the Savannah Yellow Cab that is parked a few blocks away. The oaks loom overhead; the Spanish moss hangs like wispy gray hair, matted and knotty. Shadows surge from the corners of yards and aged brick homes. I like the darkness, and I like the shadows even more. Menace. That’s what I feel. But why?

I begin to move again, slowly up the sidewalk toward the cab. I have no intentions at first; I’m just there, a form of life moving through shadows, trying to find my way…somewhere. I guess I have no purpose. But the very instant my eyes lock on the red ember of a lit cigarette flame inside the cab, I know. I am fixated on it now. On what’s inside the cab.

The regular thump of the heartbeat of the cab driver resonates in my ears. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

I have purpose. I have intention.

A craving roars inside of me. It takes on a life of its own and I am powerless to stop it. Or, I simply don’t want to. The lines are blurred now. I’m confused. This thing inside of me? It pulses. Breathes.

Possesses.

I move through the shadows now, closer to the parked cab. Closer to the heartbeat. As I sidle up to the passenger side door, I tap on the window with my index finger.

The window rolls down.

“I’m on a break,” the cab driver says with the cigarette clenched in his lips.

I smile and lean down to look at him through the window. My hair falls over my shoulder. “For how long?”

The cab driver’s eyes dart directly to my low-cut shirt, where his gaze lingers on the swell of my breasts. I allow it. Encourage it by taking a few exaggerated deep breaths. Then, he looks at me and grins. “Till now. Hop in.”

I grasp the door handle to the backseat and climb in.

“Where to?” he asks, looking at me through his rearview mirror. A panel of plastic glass separates us.

I shrug casually, lean back against the seat, and lock my eyes with his through the mirror. “Tybee. North Beach.”

Again, he grins. “You got it.” Only now does he flick the cigarette out the window. Then he puts the cab in drive and pulls out onto the street. At Victory, we take a left. We’re both silent until well onto the Island’s Expressway, nearly to North Beach. Silent, but the cab driver’s eyes continuously flicker to the rearview mirror to watch me. Although I’ve looked at him, I can’t tell you what he looks like. I don’t know the color of his eyes, or his skin. I don’t know how old he is. I know only that despite his cigarette smoking, his heart is strong. Damn strong.

We are just cresting the last bridge. The roads are empty, the night moonless. The tide is high, and the pungent scent of brine lingers heavy in the air. I see a side street edging the marsh. “Take a right,” I say.

The cab driver does as I ask. Along the narrow side street he creeps. The road winds around, hugging the marsh and salt water. We’re now at the back of a few rental houses on stilts. They appear to be empty.

“Stop here,” I say as we near one of the stilt houses overlooking the salt water.

“Nineteen sixty-five,” he says, and half turns in his seat to stare at me. “Long drive from Victory.” Again, his eyes drift to my breasts and linger.

“I’ve got it right here,” I say, and then use the power of seduction. I scoot back against the seat, my chest heaving out of my shirt and the cab driver’s eyes glued to it as though he’d never laid eyes on boobs before. Slowly, I ease my fingers to the opening of my shirt, the cabbie all but slobbering on himself. So engrossed with my fingers fumbling so close to my breasts to retrieve what he thinks is cab fare that he doesn’t see what’s really coming. The panel of plastic glass that separates us shatters as I lift my leg and slam my heel against it. The cabbie stares at me in shock, mouth open. With one arm I grab him by his shirt collar and yank him over the seat, right through the remaining shards of plastic glass. In the backseat I straddle him, and for a split second, his eyes lock onto mine and smolder. His cock hardens beneath me, and I almost laugh. The fucker thinks he’s gonna get laid.

That thing inside of me is free now. My eyes close, my body convulses, but only for a couple of seconds. When next I open my eyes, I see nothing, I feel nothing. I hear only the heartbeat. The sound of blood coursing through veins. It beckons me, unleashes my craving. In one fluid motion I tear away the thin layer of his shirt, and I lunge at his chest. My teeth break through skin, bone, muscle, until I feel a pop, and warm liquid settles against my tongue. I’m in a feeding frenzy now, and the man’s high-pitched screams barely break through my focus.

Those screams are quickly extinguished.

My thirst is finally quenched.

Grabbing his discarded and shredded shirt, I wipe my mouth, my face, and climb off of him. Easing out of the cab, I leave the door open and begin to jog up the winding street hugging the marsh. At the bridge, I break into a run. The briny air whips at my face and hair as my speed picks up to an inhuman pace. That suits me. I’m no longer human anyway, so why fuck with human qualities? I can run like the fucking wind. And I do.

As I grow close to Victory Drive, I slow to a boring human pace. My insides soar; a strength I never knew could exist trembles within me. I feel good! Alive! With a quick glance at the oncoming traffic—minimal at this hour but there is a small trail of cars—I hurry across the street and slow to a walk on the sidewalk. Just as I reach the next block, I’m grabbed. A hand encircles my upper arm and I’m yanked to a halt…

“Riley. Wake up.” A hand on my upper arm shakes me.

The voice is muffled, and far, far away. I ignore it, shrug off the hand. Exhaustion tugs me under and away from the voice. Am I asleep or walking along a sidewalk? Either way, I want to stay where I am. Not…with this voice.

“Riley!” This time, the voice and hand speak and shake more violently.

“What?” I say grumpily, and crack my eyes open. It takes a few seconds for my vision and mind to clear. I focus on Eli’s face. My eyes scan the room. My room. At Inksomnia. Slowly, I push up onto my elbows, then I sit up.

Eli lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. With one hand, he pushes the hair from my face and presses his lips to my forehead. When he pulls back and stares at me, I see concern in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” I ask. I feel…dirty. Grungy-dirty, like I need a shower.

Eli’s cerulean blue eyes search mine. “You can’t know how much I hate not being able to read your thoughts,” he says. “What were you just dreaming about? Can you remember?”

“How do you know I was dreaming?” I ask, and let my brain settle on before. While I was asleep.

“You were thrashing around, mumbling,” he says, and laces his fingers with mine. “Your voice—it didn’t even sound like yours, Ri.”

I look at Eli, and we study each other for several seconds. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over how beautiful Eli is. Dark wavy hair sweeps over his forehead, and those blue eyes lock with mine. A strong jaw dusted with dark shade against flawless skin. Perfect facial structure. Perfect period. I exhale, and lean my head back. “All I can remember is walking along a sidewalk. It was dark outside, and I was alone. Then”—I look at him again—“someone grabs me from the darkness, and I wake up. Here, with you. Grabbing me.”

Eli’s stare is intense and bores into me. His gaze drifts to the black angel wings at the corner of my cheek bone. Tracing it lightly with his fingertip, he watches his own movement. Involuntarily, I shiver at the intimacy. Then his eyes return to mine. “I’m worried about you.”

Unable to break his stare, I nod. “Yeah. I know. But honestly, Eli. I’m fine. I can handle myself and you know it.” I glance at my arms, and at the dragon scales inked there. “I”—pasting on a comforting smile, I glance up at him—“have the DNA of not one but two strigoi vampires, plus my own crazy blood. I’m good. Damaged though I might be, I can handle myself perfectly fine, Dupré, so stop worrying so much.” I punch his arm. “You know, not to brag or anything, but I was a bad little ass before I met you. Before all of”—I wave my hand in the air—“this. So chill.” I lean over and give him a quick peck on the lips. “I mean it.” I move to leave.

Eli’s fast, and his arm binds my body against him. His profound blue stare nearly makes my heart stop. He studies me, searches my eyes as if trying to see inside my head, my soul. Pulling me to him, he presses his lips against mine, urges them to part and kisses me. Thoroughly. I pull away first.

“Where do you think you’re going, chère,” Eli says, his French accent thick and heavy with lust.

“I need a shower in a bad, mean way,” I reply, and indulge in a little more of Eli’s kiss before escaping the bed. “Hold that thought,” I whisper against his jaw. “Be back in a few.”

As I leap from the bed, Eli playfully slaps my rump. I shoot him a saucy look and hurry into the shower. As the hot water steams the bathroom and runs down my back, over my face, soaks my hair, a small, teeny slice of normalcy washes over me. When I say small and teeny, I mean just that. Most of the time, I don’t even feel like the same person I was two months ago. Only like now, when I can somehow force myself to forget all the crap, can I feel slightly normal. So, I indulge. I use extra liquid soap with moisturizers that fill the steamy bathroom with the scent of jasmine and honey. I stand beneath the rainfall and close my eyes. Moments pass; how many, I don’t even know or care. My body relaxes, the tense muscles ease.

Join me, Riley Poe. Although I cannot see you, I can feel you within me. Just as I know you feel me within you. We are one, you and I. While you fight who you truly are…what you’re becoming…I can show you how to embrace it instead. The feeding is only one aspect of our existence, you know. Everything is heightened thereafter. Our scent, our beauty, our lust. We have eternal life, Riley, and the world is at our fingertips. You no longer belong amongst the ordinary. You belong…with me. I know that now…

“Riley! Damn it, what are you doing?”

I’m cold—frigidly cold. Every bone and muscle in my body aches. I’m shaking, quivering, and it’s unstoppable. That frantic familiar voice sounds far away, and although I feel someone lifting me, carrying me, it doesn’t seem…real. I don’t actually feel skin to skin. It’s more of a numb pressure. Like I’m lacking nerve endings. I can’t even open my eyes. I’m so freaking cold, I just want to sleep…

A sharp sting spreads across my cheek, and my body viciously shakes.

“Riley, goddamn it! Wake up!”

Another sting, more shaking.

Slowly, I crack my eyes open. Again, I focus on Eli’s face.

“You’re freezing, Riley,” he says, and it’s only then that I notice I’m wet and naked beneath the large bath towel he’s wrapped me in. Vigorously, Eli rubs my arms and legs and abdomen. My teeth chatter.

Finally, after he all but rubs the first two layers of skin off, Eli tucks me beneath the covers. He’s sitting beside me now, the weight of his body tipping me toward him. With one hand, he grasps my face and tilts it upward.

“Where were you?” he asks. “I’m not being overprotective. I’m not being nosy or obsessive. I’m genuinely worried about you, and something’s not right, Riley. So, please—where did you go?”

It’s a weird question. Even weirder that I don’t have the answer. “I was here, with you,” I respond.

“And then?” Eli continues.

I think a moment. “I went to take a shower.”

Eli studies me. “You don’t remember going outside?”

I concentrate. Hard. Then I look at Eli. “No.”

“That’s where I found you, Ri,” he said, pushing my damp hair off my face. “In the alley between Inksomnia and Bhing’s store. What were you doing?”

“Naked?” I ask.

“Yes, like you’d walked straight out of the shower and out the door. You were huddled against the wall. Mumbling. Eyes wide open.”

Slowly, I shake my head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

With both hands, Eli rubs my arms. “We’ll talk about it later. Warming up?” he asks.

I look at him. “Yeah, I’m fine. Where,” I say, and search his eyes, “were you?”

“I’d fallen asleep, Riley,” he answers. “You were gone when I woke up.” His eyes are grave. “Three hours, Ri.”

I stare off across the room. How can that be? “How can I lose that much time, Eli?” I say. Something has to give, and I mean now. What the freak is happening to me?

Eli leans over and kisses my forehead. Pulling back, his eyes search mine. “I don’t know, but I’m going to figure it out, Ri.” He strokes my hair. “Your behavior is different. Your demeanor. It’s why I always seem to be so in-your-face. I’m worried. We’ll go to my father. He’ll know what to do. Meanwhile, you need some nutrients. Want something to eat?”

“Yeah,” I say, and climb from the covers, pull on sweats and a black long-sleeved Inksomnia T-shirt and a pair of thick wooly socks, and walk to the living room. I’m really not all that hungry now. I’m losing chunks of time, and that scares the hell out of me. I hope Gilles can help. What if I’m killing innocents? Who’s going to stop me? Vic said he could help. But can he? Or is he just trying to change me? Make me his forever. I wouldn’t put it past him. What did I do all that time? Outside, naked. Freaking naked! Goddamn almighty. I start for the kitchen, and Eli stops me.

“Non,” he says, slipping into French. “I got this. You chill on the sofa.”

“Eli, really,” I say. “I’m not a baby. Or an invalid. As a matter of fact I can almost kick your ass.”

He says nothing. The look, though, speaks volumes.

I sigh. “Whatever.” I move to the sofa, plop down, and grab the remote. “Thank you,” I say. I don’t like to be pampered and he knows it.

Eli simply grins.

Flipping on the TV, I turn to the local channel to check out the news. It’s noon and something should be on.

Then, suddenly, there is. The news.

“…the driver’s mutilated body was found in his cab along the marsh on North Beach, at Tybee. It appears to be unrelated to the string of burglaries in the area. Tybee police have no leads as of now,” the news affiliate said.

My insides grow cold. Hadn’t I dreamed that? Oh freaking hell, had I actually been there? It seems too familiar, too…close. I stand and walk to the window, move the drapes and look out over River Street. No way could I have attacked someone. Mutilated someone.

“Ri.”

Eli is behind me. So quiet, I hadn’t even heard him move. I should be used to it by now, but I’m not. Maybe I never will be.

His arms go around my waist and pull me against his body, and his mouth nuzzles my neck. Funny how that doesn’t even remotely frighten me. “I know you’re tired of it all,” Eli says in a low, crooning French accent. “The killing. The death. Hopefully soon, it’ll all be over. You can’t let it get to you, though.” He pulls me tightly against him. “You’re strong, Riley. One of the strongest humans I’ve ever known. So”—he kissed my throat—“fight it.”

I relax against Eli’s strong embrace, but inside, I’m cold. Numb. And I almost take pride that I hide it so well now. Before, I couldn’t hide a damn thing. Eli could read my every thought. Now? With the DNA of two strigoi mixed with my own? Eli’s oblivious. He has no clue that it isn’t the fighting of vampires and finding of dead bodies that torments me now.

It’s the fact that I may be the one hunting them.

Stranger still, I find that tormented isn’t exactly the right way to describe my feelings about possibly being a killer.

It’s more like…

Aroused…