Everdark

Part Seven Bloodlust

The TV was on in the living room; I knew the Duprés were just chillin’ while the mortals rested. I rose, worked out on the bag for thirty minutes, showered, and dressed. As I stood in my bra and panties, I adjusted my blade straps; one on each upper thigh, inner and outer; one on each calf, inner and outer; one at my lower back, one on each hip. I stared at myself in the full-length mirror, satisfied that the lightweight sheaths Preacher had had made for me out of moleskin were adjusted just right, the weight of the blades perfect, easily retractable. Turning halfway, I stared at the reflection of my back; the dragon tattooed up my spine, down my arms, the black angel wing at the corner of my eye, and me, standing in black bra and a black thong with eleven pure silver knives strapped to various body parts. I had fifty more in my bag.

I confess, I looked badass—Marvel badass.

I prayed I could be Marvel badass when faced with a dozen vampires.

“You can,” Eli said, studying me from the doorway through my mirrored reflection. “And you’re definitely Marvel badass.”

I grinned. “Thanks.” Seeing him there shot a thrill through my insides.

Eli smiled wider. Sexy as hell, that one.

I pulled on a pair of loose knees-blown-out boyfriend jeans that sat low on my hips, a black tank, and a lightweight black Adidas jacket. No need for a trip to Mullet’s this go-round. I was dressed for comfort, movement, jumping, stabbing, throwing. Pulling my hair into a ponytail, my feet into my worn black Vans, I grabbed my bags and we left the room.

Zetty, Jack, and Tuba seemed to be waiting for me to appear around the corner; they were already staring at me as I entered the living room. All gave a nod.

“Hey guys,” I offered, then found Seth, seated on the floor with Josie playing Burnout 3 on Xbox 360. Phin and Luc were at the kitchen table, both with their special V8’, and Luc inclined his head for me to join. I walked over and set my bags on the floor.

“We ready or what?” I asked. Chaz walked over, nuzzled my hand, and I scrubbed the fur on his noggin. He’d been fed, watered, and walked, but the old guy just needed a little reassurance. Moving to the fridge, I opened it, pushed past the Duprés’ bag-o-meals, grabbed the OJ, and swigged from the carton. Sweet juice and pulp filled my mouth and slid down my throat.

“How’re the sheaths Preach made for your blades?” Phin asked.

I nodded. “Feels great. I barely even know they’re there.” I took another swig of juice. I knew Zetty carried silver; was pretty sure Jack and Tuba did, too, amongst other Gullah stuffs.

“Yeah, mine, too,” said Seth, never even glancing away from his game.

“Good,” Phin said. “Jack brought his truck. Tuba will ride with him. Josie and Seth can ride with me. We’ll split the bikes and gear between the two trucks. Luc and Zetty can ride with you and Eli,” he said to me. I nodded.

“We’ll drive straight there and set up,” Eli said. “Then a quick tour of the city.” He regarded me. “Maybe not so quick. How long has it been since you were in Charleston?”

I thought. “A while. Maybe last June? Even then, I didn’t know my way around town, except how to get to the battery, and city market.”

Eli regarded me. “You’ll know it well by tonight.”

“Yes, I guess I will,” I said. I squatted down to say good-bye to Chaz, holding his fuzzy face between my hands. “I promise you some quality time when I get home. In the meanwhile, you be good for Nyx. Go take a nap; she’ll be here before you wake up,” I said to the dog, and allowed his big, slobbery lick across my cheek. I kissed his muzzle, scrubbed him between the ears, and stood. I grabbed my bags and said, “Let’s go.” Eli quickly relieved me of them. “I got these,” he said. Even when going to fight vamps, he was a gentleman.

We hit the lights and left. Outside, a thick, muggy fog hung over the city and wrapped around us. I had the top off the Jeep; I preferred it that way. Within fifteen minutes we had both Phin’s and Luc’s bikes and gear loaded and were pulling out onto Bay Street. Phin led the way in his black Ford F-150, both bikes strapped in the bed, followed by Jack in his wicked-restored blue ’59 Chevrolet, and trailed by me.

“Nice creepy morning, huh?” Luc said from behind me as we sat at the red light. “Reminds me of the old days, before electricity. Nothing but gas lamps throughout the city.” He looked at me in the rearview mirror. “You could hear them hissing as you passed by. Remember that, Eli? Ahh, the clop-clop of the horse’s hooves on the cobbles, the hissing gas lights.” He leaned his head on the seat rest and sighed. He turned and looked at me. “Not that I’d give up cell phones and hot water for it.”

I grinned. “Don’t blame ya.”

Zetty remained silent.

“The hissing gas lights were pretty cool,” Eli offered.

The light changed, I eased off the clutch, built up speed, and shifted into second gear. It wasn’t light out yet, and a filmy haze hung over the city. I felt irritable, anxious, and edgy. I wanted this to be over. I missed . . . normalcy. And it was time for my period.

“Oh,” Luc said, nodding, apparently reading my thoughts. “Gotcha.”

I shot him a glare. “Put your seat belt on.” I shot Zetty a similar one. “You, too.” A final one I shot at Eli, who’d already started to pull his on. “That’s better.” He merely grinned.

I glared at Luc in the rearview mirror. In the early-morning light, his skin nearly blended with the fog. He smiled and did as I asked. “Sure thing, babe.” Zetty also complied, but silently. I learned that most of the time the Tibetan didn’t have a whole lot to say.

Once we pulled out onto Interstate 16, I flipped the stereo on, shoved in a Drowning Pool CD, and cranked the volume to rise over the wind. “More Than Worthless” rocked us all the way to the Interstate 95 exit where we headed north. More than once I glanced at Eli, who silently returned my look. His hand rested on my thigh. We didn’t talk. Luc was pretending to be asleep; I suppose he was simply enjoying the ride. His crazy long hair blew all over the place, a content, peaceful look settling into his flawless features. And as the morning light grew stronger, it winked off the silver hoop in his lip.

“Flawless, huh?” he hollered over the wind. “Thanks, babe.”

“Stay out of my noggin,” I yelled back. He smiled. We continued on.

Ten miles later, my fuel light flashed. “Wanna call Phin and Jack? I need gas,” I said. Luc pulled his cell from the pocket of his baggy cargo shorts and called his brother. At the next exit, I pulled into a Sunoco and stopped at one of the empty pumps. Phin, Jack, and Tuba pulled in and parked near the exit. Eli unbuckled his belt to get out. “I got it,” I said, and waved him down. “Won’t take but a sec.” Eli stared at me for a moment, then gave a nod, and I slid from my seat. Only then did I notice the debit card feature wasn’t working. “Please see manager inside” was written on little white pieces of paper, on all the pumps. “Damn,” I muttered, tempted to drive off and choose another gas station. Instead, I started across the parking lot. One pickup truck and a semitruck, parked in the back, were the only other vehicles around. I pushed inside and walked up to the counter where a middle-aged woman, rail-thin with hard life written all over her, gave me a nod.

“Mornin’,” she said in a smoker’s raspy voice. Her gaze went to my dragon-inked arms.

I handed her my debit card. “Forty on number three,” I said, then thought better of it. “Wait.” My ravenous appetite kicked in, and I suddenly wanted junk. Turning up the candy aisle, I grabbed a handful of Chick-O-Sticks, a bag of salt and vinegar chips, and a package of those cupcakes with waxy icing on top and gooey white cream in the middle. While debating on a pouch of spicy roasted peanuts, I felt a presence behind me. I glanced; a pair of big, dirty knobby-toed boots stood close. Too close.

It happened all too fast.

“Drop the shit and get up. Nice and slow,” the voice belonging to the nasty boots said. His hand grasped my ponytail and pulled, slowly but firmly. “And don’t cause a scene. I know you got boys outside.”

I momentarily closed my eyes. “Are you freaking kidding me?” I said under my breath. I left my junk food in a pile on the floor and slowly rose. “Dude, you really don’t want—”

“Shut up,” the voice commanded. “To the back of the store. Exit door by the head. Do it now, bitch.” I felt the cold press of steel against my ribs through my shirt. “I’ll stick you if you make a sound.”

Even before I’d been introduced to my new tendencies, or to the vampiric world, humans hadn’t scared me. This guy, with his knife that he’d stick me with, damn sure didn’t scare me. He was a loser punk who hung out at gas stations robbing people on the interstate. He was the very least of my problems. But something wasn’t right. It wasn’t three o’clock in the morning. It wasn’t the middle of the night. It was like when you noticed a nocturnal animal, like a raccoon, out in the middle of the day, you knew something was wrong. That raccoon had to be sick. This guy had to be sick. Not wanting to cause the cashier any stress, I did as he asked; I’d take care of him out back, get my junk food, gas, and leave.

I eased out the exit door, and a second later, the idiot followed.

Before the door closed, I swung my leg high and around, knocked the knife from his hand, and shoved him hard against the concrete wall. It was the first look I’d had at him, other than his booted feet. My height, stocky, and appearing to be late twenties, he wore an Atlanta Braves baseball cap pulled down over a burred head of sandy hair. He wore shades.

Just that fast, he turned and knocked me to the ground. I managed to sweep him with my leg before I hit. I landed on my backside. He landed on his backside. His shades fell off. Opaque eyes stared hard and angry back at me.

Well damn. Didn’t see that one coming. Frickin’ frackin’ newling at the Sunoco. Go figure. He must’ve gotten loose from whatever changed him. Great. Freeroaming newlings.

I leapt up just as he lunged; we met head-on. He was wild, uncontrolled, unaware of his powers. I was not. Just as his fangs dropped, I reached for the blade sheathed at my back. The silver flashed in the early-morning light, and the newling’s eyes widened. A nasty snarl curled his inhuman lips.

“You’re her,” he murmured, and shoved me.

Just then Eli appeared, Luc and Zetty right behind him.

The newling’s eyes grazed both, then back to me. “Later,” he said, his voice not matching the newling face. With a fierce shove, he flung me against the wall. By the time I scrambled up, he was across the parking lot and disappearing into the dense copse of tall planted pines behind the Sunoco.

Grasping my knees, I breathed hard, catching my breath. First, I kept my eyes trained at the tree line. Then, the silence drew my attention to my parking lot companions.

Luc stood, frowning. Zetty stood, frowning more.

Eli took off after the newling.

“What the freak is wrong with you, Riley?” Luc said. He shoved his fingers through his hair, staring hard at me. “Do you honestly think you can handle everything by yourself?”

I rose and met his gaze. “Sure. Why not?”

Luc continued to stare for several seconds, as though trying to see something, then blinked. “Unbelievable.”

I jammed the blade back in its sheath. “What?” I asked.

Luc shook his head. “Never thought I’d see a head harder than Eli’s. Do you have a problem asking anyone for help, or just from me? Or Eli?”

I shrugged. “I had him, Luc. If I’d needed help, I would have definitely asked.” I scratched my jaw. “He said, ‘You’re her.’ What’s that supposed to mean? And why was he out here in the early morning, alone? Don’t newlings usually run in groups? At least, for a while?”

“Usually,” Luc said, and led the way into the store. “But we’re dealing with Romanian magic—or so Ned says, and I tend to believe him. There’s no telling what we’re up against anymore.” He rounded on me as we stopped at the pile of junk food sitting on the floor where I left it. “Which is why you freaking need to call for help”—he tapped my temple—“when something’s going down. Got it? Or do you really want to see Eli kick my ass?”

I glanced at Zetty, whose dark gaze remained fixed on mine. He merely shrugged.

A cynical laugh slipped from my throat. “Whatever, Dupré.” I bent down and gathered my junk food, then headed to the cooler. “I gotta tell ya—I’m pretty sick of hearing how Eli’s going to kick everyone’s asses for me getting into trouble.” I flung open the cooler, grabbed a Yoo-hoo, and let the door slam shut. “Where is he, anyway? It’s been too long.”

Eli walked through the front door. He shook his head. “He’s fast. Got away.”

Luc and Zetty followed me up to the front. The cashier, who’d stepped out the front to smoke, was just making her way back behind the counter. I set my junk food on the counter. “You can add this stuff to the gas,” I said. She rang it up, looking at me uncertainly the whole time.

“Receipt?” she asked.

“No, thanks, “I responded, scooped up my stuff, and left.

My cell vibrated. I dumped my junk food in my driver’s seat and grasped the phone from my back pocket. I glanced at the screen and rolled my eyes when I saw Phin’s name. I answered. “Hey.” Eli glared at me.

“The next time you pull something like that, Riley I will personally kick your ass,” Phin said.

I hung the phone up and flashed him the bird.

I was really, really getting tired of all the ass-kicking threats.

Already, I was getting irritated, and it wasn’t even eight o’clock in the morning yet. I opened my gas cap, lifted the fuel nozzle, and jammed it in. “Aren’t we going to go after him?” I asked about the newling. “He’s pretty close to Savannah.”

“No,” Eli said, leaning against the Jeep’s fender. “I told Papa. He and my mother will take care of it. Just like I will take care of you.”

I eyed Luc in the rearview; his grin spoke volumes. Finished pumping, I stuck the nozzle back in the pump, screwed the gas cap back on, and looked at all three of my Jeep occupants. “Let’s get out of here.”

I’d already had enough newling excitement for one morning.

Twenty-seven miles later we merged onto US 17 North. I’d shucked out of my jacket, and cars filed down both lanes. Palm trees and live oaks dripping with Spanish moss gathered along the highway, along with the occasional Gullah woman, sitting out beneath a pitched half tent, or a beach umbrella, in a plastic and metal lawn chair with a quilt spread on the ground and dozens of sweetgrass baskets for sale. Small country stores advertising homemade peach preserves and boiled peanuts, along with fruit stands, gathered at the edge of the highway. In between those fruit stands were pieces of plywood nailed to trees: PEACHES, WATERMELONS, PECANS, FIVE MILES. It was all unique, very South Carolina. Very Charleston.

“You like it here,” Eli said, peering at me behind a pair of aviators.

I regarded him behind my own pair of shades and smiled. “I remember my mom taking Seth and me here, to Folly Beach, when we were very young,” I said. “We’d stay at the Holiday Inn, and Seth and I would hang out at the ice machine, eating it by the handfuls. Nice memories.”

“They’re good to have,” he answered. “Hold on to them.”

It was the best piece of advice I’d been given in a while.

By the time we drove the sixty-plus miles to Charleston, the sun drove harshly into the open top of my Jeep. Overhead, white fluffy clouds drifted in a sky of pure blue, and the breeze that whipped at my face and my ponytail, felt warm, at times smoldering—typical dog days of summer. One would never think such ease and beauty would lead to immortal monsters jabbing their fangs into the hearts of humans, or crazy vampire cult fight clubs taking place while the city slept. Or worse—newlings hanging out at the Sunoco, waiting for victims. Fucked up, I tell ya.

More palms and mossy oaks stood along old neighborhood streets as we hit the historic district. Spearing the sky was the tall, spindly spire of St. Michael’s, and farther along Church Street, the well-known and aged French Huguenot Church. I downshifted with the slower traffic along Market Street, glancing over at the Gullah women and their wares in the city market. Sweetgrass baskets of all shapes and sizes and strip quilts covered the market stands, filled with goods varying from fruit preserves to handmade jewelry. We didn’t stop; instead, we continued toward the harbor, following Phin, east of the Ashley River and all the way to South Battery. We pulled in behind the two trucks Phin and Jack were driving. We were parked on the driveway of a large, white, three-story historic home. It looked like something out of Southern Living magazine. I’m talking full-front verandas, large-paddled ceiling fans, white rocking chairs, and dozens of huge green Boston ferns, and flanked by tall palms, crepe myrtle trees, and aged magnolias with large, waxy green leaves. It sat in the famous line of battery houses overlooking Charleston Harbor. We pulled around back and parked in the shade. I threw the Jeep into neutral and yanked the emergency brake.

I looked at the battery mansion before us. “Whose place is this?”

Eli looked at me over his shades. “Belongs to Jake Andorra, but he won’t be here. It’ll just be us.”

“So where’s Jake Andorra if he’s not here?” I asked, unfastening my seat belt and sliding out the Jeep’s door.

Luc grinned and answered. “London.”

“And . . . how long has Jake Andorra been dead?” I continued.

“About four hundred and sixty years,” Eli said with a laugh. “Good thing he’s not here.”

“Why?” I asked, pushing my shades up into my hair.

Eli stared at me for a moment, his grin widening. “He’d like you too much.”

I shook my head. Eli grabbed my bags and his from the backseat and rounded the Jeep; Luc did the same, as did the ever-silent Zetty. We walked toward the others. I glanced at Luc. “And does he drink V8’ like the Duprés, or—”

“Don’t ask,” Luc replied. I couldn’t tell by his expression what that meant exactly, so I dropped it.

Phin, Josie, and Seth, loaded down with backpacks, and Jack and Tuba, loaded down with . . . something, turned to us as we walked up.

“We’ll get our gear inside. Zetty, Jack, Tuba, and Josie will make the place safe while you and Seth learn the city,” Phin said. He stared at me. “Ready?”

“Have been,” I answered.

“Me, too,” Seth answered. He glanced at me and smiled. I can’t say I was happy at all to have my baby brother facing fight club vamps, not to mention be in the same city as the monster in my visions. All I can say is that his tendencies were smack-daddy kick-ass, and to have him backing me up made me feel a helluva lot better.

With a nod, Phin led the way into Jake Andorra’s mansion.

Inside, everything was spotless. Yet empty. Vaulted ceilings and an open plan made it look even emptier. Just at first glance, as Seth and I walked through to the second level, I noticed no photographs; very little home décor—a vase here, a plant there, probably fake—and everything squeaky clean. Yet empty. It was a fully stocked home with no personal touches. Upstairs, the rooms were massive. Phin led us past a mammoth library that I barely glimpsed. Then, into my room; our room, rather—mine and Eli’s.

“Home sweet home, Riley,” he said, then inclined his head to Seth. “Come on. Yours is across and down the hall.” Seth grinned and wagged his brows at me, adjusted both packs on his shoulders, and followed Phin out.

Any woman would just melt in a house like this. I glanced around, only slightly miffed that this was no vacay but instead, a vamp hunt. But day-yum, it should be. In another life, maybe. The room held an enormous king bed piled high with pillows and topped with a down comforter, fireplace, ceiling fan, and various pieces of antique furniture. A wicker love seat sat close to the white-painted French doors leading to the veranda outside the room. I dumped my stuff on the floor next to the bed. I wasn’t an indulger, but I couldn’t help opening the door and taking a step out. The air smelled like home, heavy and tinged with brine. I breathed it in and took in the view. Charleston Harbor was just across the way, and, in the distance, boats dotted the water. Nice. It was . . . nice. With a deep inhalation and slow exhalation, I resigned myself to doing what I did, being who I was.

“You like it?” Eli asked.

I nodded. “Definitely.”

“Ready, guys?” Seth asked from the door.

“Yeah, Bro,” I said. “We’re ready.”

After a quick trip to the bathroom, we headed downstairs and rounded the corner just in time to see Luc lift a small vial to his mouth. I sidled up next to him. “What’s that stuff?”

Luc grinned. “Preacher gave it to us. It masks our origins to other vampires and allows us to slip into their zone without being detected.” He slurped the last drop and set the vial on the counter. “Lasts for about three days,” he said. He handed Eli a vial.

“You have more, right?” I asked. Three days wasn’t a long time.

Phin walked up, Luc tossed him a vial, and he and Eli downed theirs in one sip. “Yes, we have more. Preacher gave us a decent supply.” He wiped his mouth and set his vial next to Luc’s. “And this is our second vial. Took the first one a few days ago. You two ready to learn the city?” He glanced at Seth and me.

I looked at my brother, who seemed overly eager. “Yep,” I answered, and we headed outside.

“I’m sitting this one out,” Eli said. “I have some things to get in order with Noah.” He kissed me, and the others made goofy noises. “See ya in a bit.”

“Okay,” I answered, and gave him a saucy smile.

Jack and Tuba had unloaded the bikes. I rode with Luc; Seth with Phin. Before Seth slung a leg over Phin’s bike seat, I stopped him with a quick pat-down. Seth’s green gaze, slightly humored, met mine.

“Yeah, I got my silver, Sis. Don’t worry so much,” he said, then kissed my nose, pushed my glasses down and in front of my eyes, and slid his shades on. Phin handed him a half helmet, despite the no-helmet law of South Carolina, and Seth snugged it in place.

My brother looked and acted way older than fifteen these days.

“Just checking,” I answered, then threw my leg over Luc’s bike seat. He turned, handed me my half helmet, and grinned. “Law or not, I’m not taking any chances with yours or your brother’s noggins.” He looked at me over his shades. “Ready?”

I pulled my helmet on. “Been.”

With a laugh, Luc jumped and kick-started the bike; Phin did the same, and we pulled down the driveway, past two tall palms, and onto the street.

For several hours after, we rode every street and alley of historic Charleston; from Market Street, to Church Street, past the white exterior of the French Huguenot Church, the unique salmon-colored Unitarian Church in Charleston with its square-topped steeple, up to Marion Square, and then down again. We learned King Street, Queen Street, Meeting Street, the open market, the historic district. The church district lent tall spires that stabbed the sky, and the French district had cafés and shops. That was all pretty easy to get the hang of. It reminded me a lot of Savannah, although we had more squares. Still, it was pretty easy to get, and simple to get the feel for. For a couple more hours, we rode; no alley, no side street next to a tourist shop, no restaurant, went unsearched. Late afternoon approached fast.

Then we rode out a ways, to the industrial part of the city, where the scenery wasn’t so picturesque. Compared to the clean-lined historic district, with its palms and white buildings and pristine parks, this part of the city had an underground, postapocalyptic feel to it. These streets and barred-windowed businesses were purposely kept out of the travel mags and tourist brochures. Everything looked . . . dirtier. Rather, forgotten. We pulled up to what appeared to be an old brick warehouse. In faded red letters against a gray metal sign, the words MALLORY’S FISH MARKET stretched in an arch. The moment Luc killed the motor, a single door opened and Noah Miles stepped out.

He looked dead at me.

“Know the city now, do you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, and glanced around. “Where’s Eli?” I asked.

“He left about an hour ago. Had to go make arrangements with Garr, Preacher’s cousin.”

Luc braced the weight of the bike with his legs, and I stayed on the bike. “So where’s the fight club?”

Noah rubbed his jaw and grinned. “Not anxious, are you? Already packin’ silver?”

“I’m ready to get this over with,” I answered. And dammit, I was.

He nodded, and the others we’d met at the Dupré House the night before filed out and stood behind Noah. Street tough and ready to fight as they were, one would have a hard time believing they were actually vampires. Jenna, no more than nineteen, was of medium build and had long blond dreads she wore pulled back, similar to Noah’s. Saul was Asian, early twenties, and had zero readable expression on his face. Cafrey and Tate, I’d learned, were brothers from Arkansas, both with buzzed hair with a sturdy, kick-ass build.

“So,” Noah said, “screw the pleasantries, yeah? Welcome to Charles Town. Now, before we get dirty, which only happens after the sun dips, there’s someone we gotta see.”

Getting dirty meant free running, which I’d later discover, Noah and his guys were totally sick at. But we had a few hours of daylight left, and apparently, someone wanted to see us. “Who?” I asked. “And why?”

“Garr,” Noah said. “He’s waiting for us just a ways out of town.” He grinned at me. “Eli’s there, too. And not only do you mortals need to eat, but he wants to see da crazy painted white girl Preacher man been talkin’ bout, dat’s right.”

“Well,” I said, unable to stop the grin from tipping my mouth upward. Noah sort of had that effect on people—on me. He had that cocky, quick-witted, smart-ass attitude that, I don’t know, I thought was pretty funny, I guess. I met his gaze. “I’m starved, so let’s go meet him.”

I gave my brother a glance; he grinned. Then, Noah and the others disappeared back into the building. Minutes later, one of the garage doors lifted and Noah backed out in a kick-ass blue restored muscle car. I had no idea what it was, but I had to say it was totally Noah.

“It’s a ’sixty-nine Camaro Z28 RS with hooker headers, four-speed mucie, 373 psi, and four-wheel disc brakes,” Luc offered. He turned and looked at me, the sun glinting off his silver hoop. “In original Leman’s blue with a black leather interior. Saved it from the junkyard and restored it himself. Pretty sick, huh?”

Noah pulled the car alongside Luc’s bike and gave me a smile any other woman would have fainted dead over.

I merely shook my head and grinned.

“Boys and their toys,” I said. “Dead, undead—you’re all the same.”

Noah flashed his white teeth. “Follow me.” He pulled out, his exhaust rumbling, and we fell in behind him.

Heading north on Highway 17, we eased out of Charleston following Noah. Approximately twenty-eight miles later, we hit the small town of Awendaw and turned east toward the river. I held on to Luc as we turned down a narrow gravel lane that led back into the wood. The sun was beginning to drop lower in the sky, and shadows fell long and jagged from aged live oaks across the palm fronds and sweetgrass hugging either side of the lane. I knew we grew closer to the river; the pungent smell of sea life clung to the humid air like fog. Up ahead, Noah’s taillights lit up as he pulled in front of a small, older river house; painted green several years before, it had a screened-in porch and a single yard lamp. Luc pulled next to the Camaro and killed the engine. I swung my leg over and off the bike.

“Come on,” Noah said, grinning, suddenly at my side and grasping my elbow. A deep, singsong voice that sounded strikingly familiar broke through the night air.

“Awe, now, dere she is, den,” a tall, wiry black man said from the top step of the screened-in porch. “You come on over here, Riley Poe, and bring your brodder; dat’s right. Let me take a look at you two.”

I threw one more glance at Luc, whose back was to me as he spoke, and for a second I thought to crank up my strigoi hearing and eavesdrop. I didn’t get the chance. Garr, Preacher’s cousin, stopped me. No—I mean literally. He stopped me—with a lot more strength than an old man should have had. I stared at him.

Garr flashed me a gap-toothed smile.

Then, it hit me. He had tendencies.

A little something Preacher had left out.

As Garr led me up the steps into his river cabin, Noah, Phin, and Seth on my heels, he let out a deep, amused chuckle.

“Well, baby,” he said, and we stepped into the cabin. “We got some catchin’ up to do, me and you.” All of six feet five inches, he looked down at me. The ceiling fan whirring in the living room seemed about to take his head off. “Now, we ain’t stoppin’ in here, no, sir.” He inclined his head, adorned with a faded Awendaw Blue Crabs cap, perched slightly crookedly. “Straight out da back door, to da pavilion. Your Eli is waitin’ for you out dere.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “You like crabs, don you, girl?”

I smiled. “Yes, sir. I do.”

“Good, den. Let’s get out dere before dey all get eaten.”

Garr left no chance for me to discuss anything with Noah or Phin. He continued to pull me through the little river house, straight out the back door, and down a long wooden dock over the marsh. A slight breeze kicked up and blew briny air across my cheeks, and the rustle of saw grass blades scraping against one another nearly soothed me.

Nearly, but not quite.

Once at the end, three other Gullah standing by Eli raised their heads and grinned. Two were older, maybe in their late fifties, and one was younger, midtwenties. The barefoot younger guy, bare-chested and wearing cut-offs to his knees, was dumping a basket of live crabs into a large pot of boiling water. Metal crab baskets lined the dock, and two long metal, green-netted scoop nets rested against a lawn chair in the middle. Two large coolers sat beside them. The boy nodded, keeping his gaze trained on me. Eli walked toward us.

“Come on in here, girl,” Garr said, and led us into the screened-in boathouse. A long, well-used wooden table and benches took the length of the small house; covered in newspaper, a large pile of boiled crabs, red from cooking, sat heaped in the center.

“Sit,” he said, and crossed in front of me to sit on the other side. “Eat.” Old gnarled hands picked up a crab, pulled off the claw, and pulled the pincers apart. He sucked the juice from the claw, then cracked into the meat with a tiny hammer.

Eli stepped inside and found a seat beside me. Seth slid in next to me, on the other side; Noah and Phin crossed over and sat on the other side, next to Garr. A few minutes later, Luc wandered in and sat next to Seth. We all ate. The young Gullah brought in plastic cups and a cold gallon milk jug filled with sweet tea, then poured our glasses and left.

“You see, girl,” Garr started, in between bites of white claw meat, “Charles Town in a bad way, dat’s right. Just like Savannah. Maybe worse,” he said. “Dat Preacher, he told me what happened over dere, with da hell stone.” He shook his head. “Dat’s bad stuff, dem Arcoses. But dem Duprés, dey handled it good, wit your help.” He glanced at Seth. “You all right, boy?”

Seth nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Garr nodded. “Well, we glad to have your help here in Charles Town. Been a long time since we had much trouble here, dat’s right, Noah?”

Noah gave me a quick glance. “Yes, sir.”

Garr leaned forward, crab meat sticking to his fingers. “Well, we got it now, doh. Dem Arcoses, dey turned some, dey left some wit tendencies, dey killed some. No tellin’ how many runnin’ round now, doh.”

“Preacher says we have to entomb them again,” Eli offered. “Maybe just one of them.”

Garr nodded. “Probly so.” Eli had already explained to Garr Victorian’s explanation, and about me. The whole while, Garr said nothing more. But he watched me with ancient, wise eyes.

We finished eating; I don’t think I’d ever eaten so many crabs at once. They were good, with just the right amount of seasoning. Some of it I recognized as normal, regular, everyday spicy crab boil seasoning; some I did not.

“To keep up your strength,” Noah said, staring at me from across the table. He wagged his brows.

By the time we finished, the sun had nearly set; the gloaming, Noah had called it, with no sun, no moon, and the eerie glow of afterlight. Usually, the gloaming was filled with bugs and birds and frogs, calling, mating, singing—not so much anymore. Funny how nature knew what was going on, but humans didn’t.

We left the dock, and the afterlight, behind.

Inside Garr’s river house, he pulled something from the pocket of his white T-shirt and stopped us one more time. He handed a vial each to Seth and me. “Drink up, Brodder and Sister,” he said. “Dis will let dem newlin’s tink you mortal all de way. Might help for a spell, dat’s right.”

Neither Seth nor I hesitated; we unscrewed the small little lid and turned the bottle upright. We drained every drop. It tasted a mixture of sweet and tang, but with no aftertaste. We handed the vials back to Garr.

“Dere now. You go and take care of stuff. I’m here if you need me,” he said.

“Thank you,” I returned, and before I could go, he grasped both of my hands. With aged fingers he trailed the dragons on my arms, scraping the wings at my cheek.

“You mind dem Duprés, girl,” he said. “And dis Noah, too. Dey keep you and your brodder safe, and Preachers boys and dat odder big dark fella.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don be a hardhead, girl. You can’t take dem all on by yourself.”

“Yes, sir,” I answered, and could only wonder what sort of conversations he and Preacher’ had had about me.

Garr grinned. “Wasn’t no Preacher, girl. Was Eli Dupré. Now git.”

I could do nothing more than stare.

Garr laughed and shooed us out of his little old green river house. Eli grasped my arm and pulled me close.

As we crossed the yard, the lamplight cast an amber half circle around the house. Beyond the circle, fireflies blinked in the night. It felt surreal here, on the Awendaw; almost disjointed from the hell in Charleston. I knew better, though, and by the time we left and headed south on US 17, complete darkness had fallen. This time, I rode back with Eli on his bike.

Just as we hit the city limits, I felt Eli’s hand grasp mine, wrapped around his waist, and squeeze. He said nothing. He didn’t have to, and I wasn’t going to ask.

No sooner had Eli stopped the bike than Victorian’s voice fill my head.

Please, Riley—you don’t have to do this. It is a fight you will never win, love. Don’t you see? There’re too many of them, and I cannot stand the thought of your putting yourself in danger. I’m begging you—leave now. Please? And yes—you can answer me in your head. Another strigoi quality. Just think to me. . . .

“What is it that you can’t stand the thought of? My killing your kind? I’m in constant danger, Victorian. Whether I’m in the fight or not. You know me by now—I will not sit idly by and watch others die. Maybe you can live with that, but I can’t, ” I thought.

“Ah, see? Just that easy. You’ll find more abilities as time goes by. And this—it’s one of the many qualities I adore about you, Riley. I so wish I could just take you away. You and I, completely alone somewhere, far away from the melee you’re about to subject yourself to. I dream of nothing, day and night, but you; the smell of your skin, the taste of your lips, the feel of your hands on me. It’s . . . almost painful.”

“I’m not getting into that with you right now, Victorian. You know where my heart lies,” I thought to myself.

“I know where you think your heart lies. I aim to prove otherwise. For now, love, I beg you; listen to those around you. Let them keep you safe. My existence would be no longer if you perish.”

“I can’t make promises, other than I will be careful. Now, go away. You’re distracting me.”

Ah, a promising gesture indeed. Distraction. I have more hope now than before. I shall see you soon, love. Stay safe.

“Ri, what’s wrong?”

I blinked, and just that fast, the conversation was over. I focused on Eli’s face. I could tell he couldn’t hear my conversation with Victorian. “I just carried on a conversation with Victorian. In my head,” I said, closing my eyes briefly. I looked at him. Eli’s eyes were harder than usual, but he said nothing. “He says it’s my strigoi blood that gives me the ability, and no,” I said, meeting his angry gaze, “I don’t want it. But I’m stuck with it. And he was begging me not to fight.” I wasn’t lying—Victorian was a distraction. Eli was a distraction. Anything right now was a distraction. I had to get my mind in the game and erase all other distractions from my thoughts. It was bad enough my little brother ran beside me in all this; I had to do things right the first time and get this shit over with.

“Thank you for telling me,” Eli said. “No more secrets, Riley.”

My stomach turned. “No more secrets.”

“We ready to get dirty?” Noah said, walking from the garage and standing before me in the beam of street light.

I glanced at Luc, who rolled up and pushed his bike in next to the Camaro.

“Yep,” I said. “Let’s go.” Noah’s guys appeared from the building; Zetty with them. Phin, Luc, Seth, Eli, and I gathered.

“This way,” Noah said, and took off running. His team followed.

“Ladies first,” Luc said, but Eli grabbed my arm when I started off. “Riley,” he said. “Be careful. I mean it.”

“I always am,” I said, and hoped he could detect the sincerity in my gaze. He gave a short nod—meaning he understood—and we took off after the group.

Jenna, in her baggy jeans, T-back, and black high-tops, could just about outrun Noah. We moved through the city’s industrial section on foot, bounding off rooftops, treetops, cars and awnings; there wasn’t a flat surface we couldn’t use. Zetty, whom I hadn’t done any free-running with, surprised the hell out of me. That big guy could haul ass and jump just as high as Phin. He wasn’t quite as nimble, maybe, and obviously not as experienced; Phin had been doing it a lot longer. Still, he was impressive.

The brine of the city, mixed with the dirt and trash and urine of downtown industrial Charleston, hung thick in the air, trapped in the same fog of humidity as Savannah. Dark clouds had formed, just before dark, and a slight rumble sounded in the darkened distance. Every once in a while, heat lightning would flash across the sky.

It brought back heated memories of Eli and me on the barrier island, not too long ago, and he must have remembered, too, because our gazes met frequently and there was always something there, heated, between us. It thrilled me and urged me on.

As we ran and leapt, my anger, anxiety, fear, propelled me. I pumped my arms, used my thigh muscles to spring from ledges, and moved with all my energy until I burned. It felt good; the weight of my blades, sheathed in moleskin made by my surrogate grandfather, felt more familiar; adrenaline built up. By the time Noah led us to a dilapidated redbrick building in a row of other old buildings in the very slums of Charleston, I barely recognized it as an old church; after I noticed the double wooden archways, I wondered if it’d once been a carriage house. Graffiti in white paint marked the double doors—two large M ’s, whatever that meant. Crouched atop the roof across the street, we peered at the row. I could hear the roar inside. With my sense of smell I detected sweat, piss, and the metallic scent of blood. I struggled to keep the exaggerated oscillatory sounds of the city out, and after a few moments of concentration, I filtered out most. I glanced upward. One small oval window, near the top, flickered with light. Noah moved next to me. Eli stood protectively on my other side.

“No cops wander this side of town,” he said. “They skirt it, avoid it, and it’s always been bad, and I don’t mean vampire bad.” He glanced at me. “That’s a new development. I mean street gangs, drugs, whores—you name it. It’s just easier for the cops to let what happens, happen. Not enough room in the prison for all this.”

I looked at him.

He pointed up the street. “See that convenience store?” I looked. “Whatever kind of shit you want, you can get out back next to the Dumpster, right along with a loaf of bread, a bag of Chick-O-Sticks, and a six-pack of beer.”

“Sweet place to raise a family,” I offered. “Now, are we headed in or what? I don’t want to be in the middle of a fight when a vision comes over me again. I go totally out.”

“I know,” Noah said, his mercury eyes regarding me, then shifting to Eli. “I can always pull you out of it.”

“The hell you will,” Eli said, his voice dark and threatening.

I narrowed my gaze at them both.

He laughed. “Okay, Riley Poe. Bro. Chill.” He inclined his head. “Once we’re in, we separate. If any of the newlings notice us all together, they’ll get suspicious and come after us, despite the Gullah potion we all drank. You wanna try and save a few in the quickening, right?”

“Yeah,” Phin answered. “As many as possible. Garr’s ready for them, right?”

Noah nodded. “Yep. They’re waiting at our place. One call and his guys are here to haul them off.”

Phin nodded. “Good deal.”

Noah continued. “All right. Eli, Luc, stay with Riley. If she goes out, get her out. Josie, I’ll be with you and Seth.” Noah gave my brother a hard look. “And don’t zone in on your sister. She’s our concern tonight, not yours. You watch your own neck. We’ll watch hers.”

“You can use Luc on someone else. I got Riley,” Eli said, moving close.

Noah grinned. “Luc’s for you, man, in case you get out of control.”

I looked at Eli’s face. It darkened. “I’ll be okay,” I assured. It didn’t seem to help much.

Seth threw a glance my way. The wind caught his dark brown hair and tossed it into his eyes. I could tell he hated this, and for a second I wished like hell we could go back, to before the Arcoses were released. I missed his innocence. Love you , he mouthed to me. I mouthed it back, then nodded to Noah. “Okay.”

Noah gave him a return nod, then turned to the others. “Phin, you’re on Zetty. My guys, scatter. Keep your eyes peeled and stay close—but not too close. We don’t want them knowing we’re all together.” He glanced down at the street and pointed. A group of four guys had turned the corner and were headed to the entrance. “Mortals. Perfect. Let’s follow them in. And hey—we’re not here to cause shit tonight. The killings won’t happen until the end of the week, anyway, so keep your head on straight.” He looked at me and smiled. “Follow me, darlin’.”

I looked back at Eli, who inclined his head to follow Noah, and I did. Luc stayed behind us. We swung down, bounded, and leapt, until we dropped to the sidewalk. In the distance, a siren blasted over the city, and close by, a baby’s unhappy scream seeped out of an open window and ripped through the night. It gave me chills to think of a baby being raised in this environment. I knew there were thousands more I’d managed to tune out.

I followed Noah to the front entrance, and we filed in behind the mortals. Inside, the fanatic boom of heavy metal music thumped against the walls, joined by the muffled rumble of hollering, objects being slammed against surfaces, swearing, cheering.

Screams.

We found more graffiti inside. The whole place was dim, with a few candles lighting the interior of the shelled-out church, with a fading charred outline of Christ on the cross where it used to hang on the wall, obviously before a fire took it out. Charred rafters overhead and a set of narrow steps leading upward near the back made up the room. We headed to the stairs. The mortals had already started up. Hurrying across the floor littered with cans, trash, liquor bottles and cigarette butts, we followed them up and pushed into a crowded room above. Our group instantly separated. The scent of kerosene burned my nostrils as I followed Luc around a ring of spectators. Inside were two fighters; bare to the waist, wearing ripped jeans, and barefoot. Both were mortal. As I squeezed through the crowd, I glanced around and noticed several guys wearing dark shades.

“Newlings trying to hide their freaked-out eyes,” Luc offered. “Keep up.”

I pushed closer to Luc. “Why is it mortal against mortal?” I said into his ear.

He looked at me. “To weed out the weak,” he offered.

Just like Noah had said, the newlings were looking for the strongest of the mortals to lure into their band. It made sense.

“Let’s get in here,” Eli said, and pushed in next to a pair of guys at ringside. Two guys fought, their faces cut and bloodied. I could literally sense the bloodlust accumulating in the room, vying with an immense overload of testosterone. How the newlings were keeping their cool, I had no friggin’ clue.

“Whoever created them is controlling them—that’s how,” Eli said against my ear. “With one thought he could tell them to maul and devour everyone in this room. That’s why I want you to watch your mouth, your ass, and not to do anything stupid.”

I looked at him hard. “Yeah, I got that, Dupré. Stop worrying so much.” The guy next to me jumped, and I fell hard into Eli’s side. “Does that mean he’s here?” I asked.

Luc pushed beside me and shook his head. “He’s not here.”

The crowd cheered as one of the fighters roundhouse kicked the other in the face and knocked him down. One of the newlings, dressed in dark jeans, a dark tee, and a black skully with dark shades, walked the perimeter of the man-made ring, watching everything—including what went on in the crowd. Across the way, I noticed Noah and Seth. My stomach lurched at the thought of watching my brother fight. He normally wasn’t a fighter. He was sweet, and he had a kind, cheerful soul.

“Now he has a kick-ass soul,” Luc offered. “Pay attention, Riley. Head in the game.”

I swore in Romanian. Eli pressed against me, probably to make sure I knew he wasn’t going to put up with my being pig-headed, and continued to watch the fight.

The guy beating the holy crap out of the other thought he was one tough bastard. Even when the other guy was on the floor, he stomped and kicked him in the ribs. The more the crowd cheered, the more brutal he became. We watched him fight one more guy, nearly beating him to death, before I could take no more. The weaker one kept trying to get up, would make it on one knee, and the other would smash into his face with his elbow, then his heel. I pushed the guy in front of me, heard Eli swear as I rushed the floor, and I knew Luc had restrained him, because he didn’t follow. Just as big bully badass was about to drop his half-dead opponent, I roundhouse kicked him in the ribs. I heard Eli behind me say, “Fuck!” just as my new opponent dropped to one knee.

The crowd roared.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed the newling moderator move toward me. I challenged him. “What?” I threw my hands up. “You got a fuckin’ rule says I can’t fight him?”

A slow smile spread across his face. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I knew they were weird and opaque behind his shades. His skin was pale—almost a blue hue. Funny how no one else seemed to notice. His gaze raked over my inked skin. “There are no rules, bitch. Go for it.”

The moment he said it, the crowd roared, and my opponent, jumping up, lunged toward me. I dodged and swept a leg out. He tripped and hit the floor.

I really, really didn’t want to fight a mortal.

I didn’t dare look behind me, back into the crowd. Eli’s anger hit me like a wave, and I could only imagine Luc was having a helluva time restraining him.

It was like fighting a toddler—unfair; no sport—and it wasn’t accomplishing anything. I wanted to kill vampires. I wanted to kill him , the monster.

I let my opponent land a few hits, just for show. They hurt. I dealt. I made sure no blood was spilled.

Unavoidably, my gaze hit the crowd. Twice I found Eli glaring at me. Luc grinned. I’d caught Noah’s stare as well, but his was a slight smile instead. He was diggin’ it, I could tell—freakazoid.

His smile broke wider, and I shook my head.

Finally, I grew tired of playing around with the mortal dude. I’d made my point—to the crowd and to the newlings. With an elbow to the gut, and a double fist to the nose, I sent him to la-la land. The crowd roared. I feigned slight exhaustion, grabbed my knees, and breathed. I lifted my head slightly; Luc’s expression had softened. Eli’s had not. But a slight nod assured me to keep going.

Next, I fought a girl: early twenties, solid as stone, mean as shit, and high as a friggin’ kite—high, but not wasted. She was totally pissed at me for some odd reason, and once we got the go-ahead nod from the newling ref, she threw herself at me like some crazed banshee, squalling and screeching. She scared the holy hell out of me.

“Come on, whore,” she said, dancing around me and taking pokes with her balled-up fists. I didn’t even flinch, her marks were that off. “You scared or somethin’? What’cha waitin’ for, huh, bitch?”

Bap. I took her down, just on principle. One punch and she was out cold. I still hadn’t broken a sweat. Again, the crowd cheered.

Somebody dragged her off the floor.

I noticed two newlings standing together; something I hadn’t seen all night. They were talking, and once I honed in on them, I realized they were talking about me. I wasn’t exactly sure if that was a bad thing or not.

I fought two more guys before I noticed Eli in the sidelines waving me out. After I took the last one out, I once again pretended exhaustion, and I staggered from the fight floor. It was covered in blood, spit, and something else I dared not to try and identify. Disgusting. At least it wasn’t my blood—or any other body fluid.

“Hey,” the one newling who’d been watching me closely for the past two hours said, grabbing my arm. “You wanna come back Friday night?”

I glared at him. “I don’t know. You got somethin’ more than a bunch of pussies and druggies for me to fight?”

I heard Eli hiss behind me.

A slow smile spread across his pale face, and I noticed his brows were so blond, they blended in with his undead skin. The black skully he wore stood in stark contrast to his pastiness. Some would be scared. I wanted to beat his arrogant ass. And it suddenly struck me how well the potion Garr gave the guys—the vampire guys—worked. They paid them no attention. Cool. “Yeah. Come back Friday night and find out.”

I gave him a hard glare and knocked his shoulder with mine as I passed. He smiled, knowing I’d be back, and I bet he was looking to try and whip me himself.

“What about you?” he asked Eli. “You here to watch your woman fight? You a pussy or somethin’?”

The air around us stilled. “What you got for me?” Eli said, his voice deadly.

The newling’s mouth lifted at the corner, and he inclined his head to the ring. “Come on and find out.”

Eli didn’t even spare me a glance. He followed the newling.

At the ring, the newling nodded at another, and in seconds, a big, heavily muscled guy in his midtwenties stepped up. He had to be all of six feet seven—taller than Eli. I could tell he was on something. Eli shrugged out of his shirt and stepped into the ring. The big mortal came at him like a truck.

Eli gave a good show. He toned his strength way down and let the guy get in several good punches. I watched in fascination the movement of muscles across Eli’s back, his biceps, and the raw power he managed to restrain as he fought. Finally, he popped the guy in the jaw and the mortal hit the floor, out cold. Eli spit on the floor beside him and stepped out of the ring. The newling moved, said something to him, and Eli made his way back to me.

His firm grasp on my arm was almost painful. Eli’s mouth pushed to my ear. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before you do something else stupid and get pulled back into the ring.”

I glanced over my shoulder as we moved through the crowd. I limped for good measure. “Yeah? It seemed like the right thing to do, Dupré. That first guy was gonna kill that kid.”

“And what do you think’s been happening all along? What’s going to happen tonight? We can’t stay and babysit them all.”

I rounded on him the moment the crowd thinned. “I didn’t come here to fight mortals. I thought we were here to take care of a bloodsucking problem.”

“You fightin’ again, Bro?” Luc asked.

Eli nodded. “Yeah. So it seems. Luc’s head lifted, and he gave a short nod. “Let’s go. We’re meeting the others outside, rooftop.”

I felt the newlings’ eyes on me the whole way out.

Luc, Eli, and I were first out the door, so we free-ran to the rooftop across the street and down a ways, and waited for the others.

I paced.

“Why couldn’t we just round up all the newlings inside? Trap them in? Gather the ones in the quickening phase, destroy the newlings, and take the freaking hell off?”

Luc shook his head. “Riley, Riley, Riley. No patience, huh? Just like before, there are reasons you can’t just rush in and do.” He tapped my temple. “Think, smartypants. Remember how the Arcoses could control the boys from before with a single thought? Well, whoever is controlling this band—Valerian reborn—can do the same thing. He gets one whiff of interference and things could turn really, really ugly. They outnumber us.”

“And they’re mixed in a building filled with mortals,” Noah said, leaping up beside us. The others joined him. He grinned at me. “No matter how much of a dick some of them are.” He punched my arm. “Crack shootin’, Poe. I’m impressed.”

Eli glowered and moved closer.

Seth interrupted, angry. “Riley, you didn’t have to jump in like that.”

I looked at my brother. Worry etched his green eyes, and the muscles in his jaws clenched, dark brows slashed into a frown. “I could’ve done it.”

“Hey,” I said, and hugged him. “You know I’m unpredictable. I couldn’t stand seeing that one guy log into the other one. He’d have killed him. It was instinct, not a plan. I promise.”

Seth pulled back and met my gaze. The wind caught and pushed his hair to the side. “You gonna do it again?”

“Yes,” I answered. “But you are all going to be there to back me up. I have the newlings’ attention. We’re getting somewhere.”

Seth frowned. “I don’t like it, Ri. But okay.”

Noah walked over and draped his arms over each of us. “You two are just so darn cute,” he said, mercury eyes twinkling. He glanced at Eli. “But let’s go. That is, if you want to save a few souls.”

Seth threw me a whatever glance. I couldn’t help but grin at Noah’s ridiculousness, and we followed him and his roof jumpers over the ancient city of Charleston. Eli ran close to me—so close I could feel the air he moved.

One major difference between vampires and mortals with tendencies I’d like to quickly point out is mortals have to pee. “Guys, no way can I leap from one more rooftop with a full bladder,” I said as we stopped to inspect the area. I glanced down. “There’s a Denny’s. Open twenty-four hours. I’ll be right back.” I turned to descend.

“Whoa,” Eli said. “Wait up.”

I quickly stopped. “Oh come on, Eli. Gimme a friggin’ break. It’s right down there.” I bent down, rested the heels of my palms on my knees, and peered down and into the restaurant. I pointed. “Look. You can see the bathrooms from here. Straight in the back.” I rose and glared at Luc. “I pee alone. Got it?”

“Got it,” Eli said. “I’ll be right outside the bathroom door. Waiting. While you pee alone.”

I rolled my eyes. “Whatever. Let’s go.”

In a flash, as I praised God I did regular Kegels, we descended the building, leapt against the trunk of a magnolia, and fell to the sidewalk in a crouch. I glanced around and ran across the street and into Denny’s. Eli ran beside me.

“Ma’am, this isn’t a public restroom,” an older waitress said.

I hurried past her. “Honey, will you order me a burger to go? Rare,” I said to Eli. He growled. Seriously—what was she gonna do? Drag me off the toilet? I all but skipped to the back and pushed into the women’s restroom while Eli stayed behind to deal with Mrs. Denny’s. I hit the end stall, made fast but careful business of taking care of business (eleven blades strapped to my body, don’t forget) and, relieved, finished. Flushing the toilet with my foot, I moved out of the stall and to the sink to wash my hands. I splashed water on my face, rubbed my eyes, and when I opened them, she stood behind me—a girl, dressed in black destroyed jeans, clunky black biker boots, a black and red ribbed tank with spiked studs along the collar and arms, and a headful of black dreads. Gaze fixed, she stared at me through the mirror, unblinking, at the pulse near the base of my throat. She licked her lips.

I knew then what she was.

In the next second her face contorted, her jaw unhinged unnaturally, and jagged fangs dropped. Her eyes went white, the pupils pinpoint red, and she lunged.