The Lair

CHAPTER THIRTY

Mel

I know we’re in trouble when Sebastian asks me to drive. A passenger all my life, I’ve never taken the wheel, except for bumper cars at theme parks, but how can I say no when we were hunting all night and he’s been driving all day. He seems exhausted, so I slide into the driver’s seat. The car feels like it has a mind of its own, lurching all over the road. I control it just barely, like I control my hunger. I wonder if that’s why Sebastian makes me drive, but then I notice that he’s looking paler as he directs me through the streets of an abandoned town I don’t know. We’re in the desert somewhere.

Soon he doesn’t have to tell me where to go. There is light ahead and I am drawn to it like a moth . Where there is light, there will be food.

Though it is night, the area around the fence is lit up like a football stadium. The fences are taller even than those I’ve seen around Farms. Though we are surrounded by desert, a perfectly manicured green lawn stretches for hundreds of acres inside the fence. A cluster of pale, five-story buildings sits in the distance. And there are people walking from building to building. Even a crew of workers fretting over the landscaping.

“What is this place?” I say on a whisper. “Is it some sort of Farm?”

Sebastian taps his fingers against his leg in that world-weary way he has. “No. Not as such.” He looks at me. “Can you not guess?”

My mind races. He expects so much of me, but never more than I can give. If he thinks I should guess, the answer must be obvious. “This is Roberto’s lair.”

His chuckle is strained. “Ah no, dear Kitten. If it was Roberto’s lair, he would have yanked me from the car long before now.”

Okay, not a Farm. Not Roberto’s.

I feel a jolt of excitement. “This is the lair of someone else. Some other vampire I haven’t met yet.”

“Very good, Melly.”

Before I can ask more, someone walks out of the guard station at the gate. I roll down the window. He is human. The first human I have seen since my death. The aroma of him is intoxicating. It’s infinitely more appealing than the muck running through the veins of Ticks. This human, however, is no defenseless snack. He holds an assault rifle clutched to his chest.

“Can I help you?”

A human? Asking if he can help two vampires? Unless he wants to open a vein, then no. “I doubt it.”

Sebastian leans across the console to look out my window, tipping his sunglasses down his nose. “Tell your mistress I am here and that I formally request sanctuary in compliance with my rights as a signee of the Meso-Americana Accords of 1409.”

The guard stares dumbly at Sebastian. “What?”

A crash rocks the car as something heavy lands on the roof. The guard stumbles back. I press myself back against the car seat, my pulse suddenly racing in time with a wild new beat. Sebastian glances up and quirks an eyebrow. “Never mind. She’s here now.”

Without a word to me, Sebastian climbs from the car. I sit there a moment, heart pounding and unsure what to do. Nothing in my weeks as a vampire had prepared me for this—not for this fortified compound, not for the flagrant use of electricity. Certainly not for the presence of another vampire.

Her music is fierce and fiery. Like skate punk and metal death, which shouldn’t be feminine at all, but somehow is, though that makes her no less terrifying.

I scramble from the car and scurry to Sebastian’s side. As I round the rear of the car, the other vampire pounces lithely to the ground. She is dressed entirely in black leather, with a sheath of long, black hair that gleams almost blue in the moonlight. She has on so much eye makeup, I can’t even tell if she’s pretty, only that there is a fierce cruelty in her smile.

“Hello, my dear,” she coos to Sebastian. “I was wondering if you would stop by or if I would have to run you to ground.”

“I wouldn’t dream of insulting you by traveling so close to the heart of your territory without complying with our laws.”

She nods, but her lips curl in distaste. “So you have decided to seek sanctuary. You have been on the road a long time. Has Roberto edged you out of your territory?”

Her words are an insult. I sense it in the tensing of Sebastian’s muscles, but his answer is easy charm. “Not at all, Sabrina. I have merely been busy.”

She throws back her head and laughs. And I can see suddenly that the skin of her neck isn’t as supple or youthful as I thought at first. “Busy? Is that the most apt description of your meddling?”

“I think so.”

Sabrina turns her gaze to me. “And what is this? This little thing you’ve brought me?” She arches an eyebrow. “Not a snack, surely.” She inhales deeply, and I have the urge to shrink into myself. She cocks her head in a way that reminds me weirdly of myself when I was autistic. “No, she’s . . .” And then she laughs, clapping her hands together like a giddy child. “Oh, she’s just a baby! And you brought her to me. What fun.”

Sabrina clasps my arms and holds me out to examine me like a loving aunt about to pinch my cheeks. There is something both maternal and malevolent in her gaze that makes my skin crawl.

Then she spins back to the guard and snaps her fingers. “Show them in.” She winks at Sebastian. “I’d offer to race you, but you, poor boy, must be feeling the effects of trespassing. Join me in the penthouse. I’ll have refreshments waiting. That should perk you up.”

With that, she zips away into the night, a soundless blur of movement. The guard is still baffled. When he makes a move toward the car, Sebastian cuts him off. “I’ll drive it myself, thank you.”

I slip into the passenger seat. It is obvious to me now that Sebastian has been dragging for the past several hours because of Sabrina. Being on her territory has cost him. How did he describe it? Like a berserker rage. Like an uncontrollable force. Yet, he has controlled it. Still, I can see how that control has worn him thin, though his pain seems to have lessened now that he’s formally requested sanctuary.

As Sebastian drives through the gates, I get a better look at the buildings and realize this must have been a business complex, a multi-building campus for one of the premier technology companies in the Before.

I lean forward to look at the logo on the building. “I had their cell phone.”

“You and half the population of the United States,” Sebastian mutters. “Even I had one of her phones.”

“Her phones? She didn’t just take over all of these buildings when things fell?”

“Goodness, no. Sabrina has run this company from behind the scenes since the late nineties. How else do you think it became the most respected company in the world? When the Ticks started spreading west toward here, she merely consolidated her kine onto the property.”

“Is it a Farm then?”

“I believe she thinks of it more as a free-roaming ranch.”

I can’t suppress a sneer. “How generous of her.”

He slants me a look. “Be careful, Melanie. I have tolerated more freedom in your speech than others might. For now, you are Sabrina’s guest. Her hospitality will last only so long as she believes you are maintaining your responsibilities as a guest.”

“My responsibilities?”

“Is it not part of the social contract that the guest be respectful of the rules of her host’s home?”

“Okay. Got it. Be polite.” I look over at Sebastian. We’re following a long, winding drive across the lawn. There are no other cars on the road and even the people seem to have scattered. “Exactly how long are we staying?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether or not she accepts my gift.”

“Your gift?”

“Of course, I brought a gift. It would be rude to request even temporary sanctuary without bringing her something in return.”

For some reason I don’t understand, a shiver of dread tiptoes down my spine. Maybe I should ask him what he means, but I can’t make myself do it. Instead I stare at the buildings and the security Sabrina has set up.

“Did she know about the Ticks beforehand?” I ask, studying the landscape. Even though it’s night, I can see wind turbines spinning just beyond the fences. What at first looked like ornamental landscaping, I now realize is agriculture. There is no wasted space. It is the very model of compact efficiency.

“I don’t believe anyone fully understood what the Ticks would become or the damage they would do.” He stops the car in front of a building with sleek modern architecture. “But no, I don’t think she knew ahead of time. Why?”

“It’s been less that a year since the initial outbreak. She’s built all this in such a short period of time.”

“You think this is impressive, you should see the Red Empire in Atlanta,” he murmured with a sneer.

“The Red Empire?” I repeat dumbly. “There’s an empire of blood in Atlanta?”

“No, it’s not blood. Don’t be so literal.” He gives me a look like I’m being exceptionally naive. “Well, there’s a reason the cans are red.”

Then his meaning sinks in. “Truly?”

He practically snorts. “You don’t sell ten billion ounces of soda a day without a whole network of abducturae.”

“And the bottled water?” I ask, even though this makes the most sense of all.

“Of course. That bit took a lot of power to pull off. Humans are gullible, but they aren’t stupid.”

“Is that common?”

“What?”

“Major companies—products we all loved—owned and operated by vampire empires?”

“Of course.”

Somehow, this makes me sad. Are we humans so insignificant that every aspect of our lives is controlled by monsters? But there’s the flaw in my thinking. I can no longer include myself with the humans.