Focus, Isla.
The slayer standing beside Thorne gave me pause; he wasn’t wearing the look of steely hatred like the rest of him. His blue eyes were hard and focused, but a shadow of a smile touched the corner of his mouth.
He was young. Very young. He looked barely old enough to drink, and like he belonged in California pumping iron on Venice Beach. His sandy blond hair was artfully styled in spikes all over his head, his skin tanned just a little too much to be tinted by natural things like sunlight. His tank top dipped way low, exposing a muscled and hairless chest. He had sunglasses hooked haphazardly at the top.
I shook my head with a shadow of grin, then moved to Thorne. “This stalking thing is getting downright creepy, dude. Plus, I think stalkers are meant to be subtle and invisible. Shooting up the place and bringing in your four gym-rat buddies kind of defeats the purpose,” I said blandly.
Thorne’s jaw tightened but he didn’t say anything. His no-neck friend cut him off. That one took himself far too seriously.
“You know this bloodsucker, Thorne?” he hissed in disgust.
I tilted my head. “You haven’t told your friends about me?” I put a hand on my chest. “Now that’s just hurtful.” I regarded the bald-headed slayer. “Thorne and I go way back.”
The man narrowed his eyes. “Why does it still have a head?” he gritted out in fury.
“Brother—“ Thorne began.
“I’ll rectify this right now,” No Neck growled. Then a knife hurtled through the air.
I snatched it by the handle inches away from my forehead.
I grinned at No Neck, then at Thorne. “I like him,” I decided. Leading with throwing knives instead of niceties was one way to make an impression.
I tossed the knife in my hands, hiding the discomfort that came with the motion.
The slayers were obviously surprised at the fact that I could do that, their masks slipping slightly into disbelief. Apart from Thorne, whose expression was still carved from marble.
Sophie was grinning beside me.
“Don’t be too hard on him, buddy,” I addressed No Neck. “He has tried, and failed, many times.” I didn’t know why I was lying for Thorne. Lying came easy to me, but it was usually to benefit myself, not others. No, it was always to benefit myself, and never humans. Never slayers.
There was a first time for everything, obviously.
“I’m just faster, better, stronger and all around more awesome than any slayer. It’s just a fact of life. Or death, in my case.” I tossed the knife back to him with dizzying speed. It was a kind of experiment to see if his reflexes were fast enough. He would either catch it, or the knife would embed itself in his skull. I was kind of hoping for the latter.
He fumbled with it, but stopped it from ending his life. Just.
“You ought to be more careful with those fancy blades,” I instructed. “I was under the impression they were kind of rare and important in the whole slaying vampires part of your job description, and you seem to lose them more than I lose my marbles.” I winked. “Which is often. You know those riots in London? All me.”
Sophie let out a choked laugh as the muscled child gave in to a small grin. The rest of them didn’t crack a smile.
Thorne stepped forward, eyes glittering. “Enough,” he growled.
I pretended the pure rage and authority in his tone didn’t get me the teensiest bit hot.
“You’re right. We’ve got things to do, and I’m sure you’ve got vampires to slay. Now that we’ve established I’m too much for you, it’s time to run along and let the adults get back to their jobs,” I said.
The rattling of the cage behind me reminded me of the pressing job.
All eyes went to it. The kid’s peepers widened, as if it was the first time he’d noticed the huge metal cage in the center of the room. Though, I was pretty noticeable, so I understood while I stole the show.
“Don’t mind him,” Sophie cut in. “He’s just cranky if he doesn’t get his morning coffee.”
Thorne stepped forward again, as did his posse, who tightened the grips on their guns.
Sophie and I stayed relaxed, but I noticed the slight glow to her right hand. She was ready to zap these guys five ways to Sunday before they could even say boo.
Thorne wasn’t focused on that, his steely gaze on me.
“You fuckin’ lied,” he growled.
“And?” I asked, not getting why that was a big deal. “Wait, what did I lie about? Five hundred years is a long time. I can’t keep track of them all.”
He stepped forward once more, closer to me than was comfortable, Sophie’s hand glowed brighter and the men behind him noticed, raising their guns. Thorne’s eyes were still on me, as if nothing else in the room was important.
He pointed his chin behind me. “About him.”
I turned my head; the thing had one filthy arm outstretched as if it was reaching for Thorne. It could obviously smell the blood, too far gone to realize this particular meal would be his last if he attached himself to the delectable sinewy flesh of Thorne’s neck. Or would it? I wondered idly whether these things would die from drinking slayer blood. If I had time, I’d toss No Neck in the cage to conduct an experiment.
“You said you didn’t know about turned vampires. You fuckin’ refused to believe they even existed.” His breath and the weight of his words floated through the air. I could taste his fury—bitter and delicious. “You’re one fuckin’ fine actress,” he accused.
I screwed up my nose before regarding Thorne once more. “Thanks, but the Academy has never recognized me. A huge oversight on their part.” I sighed dramatically when it became apparent that he didn’t find me amusing. It was looking like his friends might start shooting if I didn’t cut to the chase. “I didn’t know about that”—I nodded to the cage—“until about thirty minutes ago, and you’re not exactly first on my speed dial. In fact, I don’t even have your number. I doubt looking up ‘grumpy and broody vampire slayer’ in the white pages would work.” I paused. “Or maybe it will.”
“You’re expectin’ me to believe that?” he hissed.
I sighed again. “Quite frankly, I couldn’t give a flying fuck about what you do and don’t believe. If it keeps you warm at night to think that a big jolly man with a weight problem comes down your chimney and watches you sleep, have at it. But I’ve got shit to do, so take this show somewhere else. I bet you guys could make a killing at a bachelorette party.” I waggled my eyebrows at the kid. “Just a suggestion.”
“We’re not leavin’ without him,” he declared tightly.
I bristled. “Sorry, we’ve got dibs. We found him first. Finders keepers, losers weepers. Better luck next time.”
His eyes alighted with fire. “He’s not a fuckin’ object,” he hissed. “That’s a human being.”
I stepped back so the rest of his posse could get a good look. “You think that’s a human being? Take a good look, boys.” I let their gazes roll over the red-eyed, long-fanged thing that had stains of blood around its mouth and a trail of red trickling from its forehead. The white button-down shirt that he had worn in life was torn and stained with I didn’t want to know what. Nothing about it betrayed any sense of conscious thought.
“That is not a human,” I declared. “That’s not even a vampire. That’s an animal that is dangerous to that very race you boys get all hyped up to protect. Therefore, it needs to be put down.”
Thorne gripped his gun. “You’re not fuckin’ killin’ him. That’s a person. We’re taking him.”
I straightened as the men behind him stepped forward, prepared for a fight.
I raised my brow. “You and what army?”
No Neck scoffed. “One vamp and a little witch? You don’t stand a fuckin’ chance.”
I smiled. “Oh, it’s so nice to see misogynistic cockiness has endured through little movements like feminism. Makes things so much more interesting.”
I gave Sophie a look.
She grinned.
“You sure you don’t want to run along and train your legs, suck down a protein shake? Last chance,” she offered.
No Neck glowered at her, stepping forward.
Sophie’s hands stayed still at her side, but one finger jerked.
No Neck froze midstep, his combat boot hovering in the air. The only thing that moved was his eyes, wide in their sockets as they darted around in panic.
Sophie kept grinning as the men around him were slow to catch on, looking between him and Sophie in confusion.
Another finger jerk had his combat pants around his ankles. I choked out a laugh as his tight white briefs were revealed.
She tilted her head. “Tighty-whities. What a surprise,” she declared sarcastically. Then her gaze moved down to his small calves. “You totally should have taken me up on my offer,” she added. “You really shouldn’t skip leg day.”
“Parlor tricks won’t save you,” the man beside him hissed, stepping forward with his gun raised.
Sophie flicked her hand again and all of their guns flew in various decorations, hurtling through the air to float in front of her, pointed at their previous owners.
“You’re totally right,” Sophie said sweetly. “Parlor tricks won’t save you. Arrogance and stupidity certainly won’t.”
The air was thick with tension as angry eyes settled on Sophie. They weren’t dumb enough to move, though.
Thorne’s gaze was blank as he looked to Sophie, then to me, hand on his own gun that hadn’t managed to fly away. I wondered if that was deliberate of Sophie. He was measuring the situation calmly. He wasn’t stupid.
“See what I was telling you about?” I asked him. “If only you all weren’t so set on becoming the supernatural public enemy number one. Not only would you go to all the good parties, but you’d probably have a longer life span.” I gave him a look. “As it is, you’re intent on crashing parties you weren’t invited to, making demands that you don’t have the power to enforce, and then you get bested by two females.”
He stared at me, then focused on Sophie. “You don’t want to kill them. They’re humans.”
She glanced at him. “Humans who smashed up an office I just got remodeled. I’d maim them for that alone.” Her grin intensified. “Oh my goddess. You’re the slayer,” she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up.
I glared at her. “Not now, Sophie.”
She laughed. “I totally get it. He’s hot,” she said appreciatively.
Thorne stiffened.
Just before things could get uglier, an explosion rocked the building and sent everyone flying. It wouldn’t have done so to me because of my superior supernatural balance and because I was awesome, but it wasn’t a naturally occurring explosion. As it was, I hurtled the farthest, smack-dab in the center of the steel cage.
My spine crunched as the impact crushed bones and my head whipped back, jarring my consciousness.
I crumbled to the floor in a moderate amount of pain, but still conscious, which was more than I could say for my human brethren. My worried gaze found Sophie’s prone form six feet away from me, only relaxing when her dull heartbeat reassured me that she wasn’t dead.
The thump echoing in the back of my mind remained, but still I found myself glued to Thorne for reassurance that he was still alive. His large body lay half upright against the wall of Sophie’s office. He’d cracked the glass on impact.
Sophie was going to be so pissed about that.
And the explosion in general, which had caught her unaware.
And me, which I was pissed to admit. I’d been too busy focusing on the stupid human whose heartbeat obviously drowned out coherent thought.
I pushed myself up, ignoring the shooting pains down my spine as I did so. My gaze was focused on the four vampires and one witch strutting through the door.
On one in particular.
“Earnshaw, how nice of you to drop by,” I said sweetly. I didn’t betray an ounce of surprise but I was. He was from a middle-class Vein Line, not important enough to be anyone at all. Or so I’d thought. My earlier worries came to fruition with his presence. “Now this is a party. Not the guest list I would have chosen, but still.”
The slayers scattered around the room had begun to stir, most jumping up and commencing battle stances.
Including Thorne.
Sophie was still unconscious and that worried me, especially with the witch’s dark gaze on her. I didn’t doubt she was working something to keep Sophie down.
I swallowed the worry for my friend, hoping she could take care of herself, and focused on Earnshaw.
He was certainly focused on me, his black eyes narrowed in disgust. “I told you I’d be giving you what was coming to you, race whore,” he spat.
I tilted my head. “Hello to you, too. You’re looking well. Snacking on more children does wonders for that complexion. I can’t say it will do well for that black, ugly shriveled-up thing that is lucky enough to be your soul,” I responded.
The cogs were working in my mind. He was a prime candidate for the new revolution. Someone cruel, stupid of the belief that he was Satan’s gift to vampire kind despite his poor lineage and less-than-impressive looks.
“You’re so self-righteous, thinking saving one human child is going to do anything but bring about your final death that much faster,” he hissed.
I watched Thorne’s body jerk as he caught on to the meaning behind Earnshaw’s words. His gaze blackened at the vampire’s Armani-clad back.
Earnshaw wasn’t focused on the slayer, though. Luckily. No way Thorne would be able to take him on in his current state, though I knew he’d try to exact revenge on the vampire who attempted to murder his sister. Humans were big on such things.
“You think you’re the one who’s going to bring about my final death?” I laughed. “I think you’ve forgotten that the last time we met I ruined a pair of shoes. By embedding them into your face and demonstrating just how easy it is for me to gift you your final death.” I looked to the three other vampires, standing deathly still, as was their nature, their predator eyes on each slayer they’d decided to stand in front of. I didn’t recognize any of them. Soldiers, I guessed, most likely from second-class Vein Lines. Disposable. The aforementioned slayers were crouched, ready to attack, despite only a couple of them having weapons.
Kind of my bad. I glanced at them scattered around Sophie’s prone body, which the witch was circling while muttering.
Ignoring Earnshaw, I darted to the side, intending to break the witch’s neck. We had enough to deal with without her muttering curses to make everything that much more complicated. Plus, she was responsible for that little explosion and it pissed me right off. Which was why she had to die.
My movements would have been little more than a blur to human eyes. Earnshaw was too slow and dumb to stop me, and I doubted he would have expected it.
But just as I got to the witch, I hit an invisible wall and a clawed hand squeezed my heart.
She turned, revealing a pale and beautiful face. Red lips stained with the color of blood, a curtain of black silk tumbling down her shoulders.
She smiled, the beauty flickering for just a moment, long enough for me to glimpse her true face. The wrinkled, paper-thin skin, dotted with age spots and glassy eyes, a mouth full of rotted death.
It was gone again as she stepped towards me, her long black gown trailing on the floor.
I scrambled against the invisible hands, the depth of her power pulsing through me. She’d masked it until that point. Black magic had a bitter quality to it, rotten and dirty. The taste of death. Death was the only thing that made such magic possible. The death of countless people, and the a deal for the witch’s soul as she surrendered herself into the abyss of the dark arts.
Death wrapped me as the hand squeezed tighter, a choking sound erupting from my mouth as I fought against the magic.
She was old. Quite possibly older than me. Which was not a good sign.
Old witches, especially ones who practi
ced dark magic, could theoretically kill a vampire.
The ice in my blood and the small rupturing of the cells in my body, little deaths, all of them were communication this.
The echo of Earnshaw’s heels sounded through the death-cloaked room as he made his way over to me.
“Your overconfidence always was frightfully unattractive, even when we were children,” he stated, his breath hot on my face.
Earnshaw had gone to Mortimeus, the ancient school that still operated in the plains of Siberia. The one place any vampire child who had a prestigious Vein Line went. Earnshaw had never been popular because his blood wasn’t nearly as pure as most of the rest of the class.
That and he was a total dick.
“Your face was always frightfully unattractive,” I hissed.
I struggled inwardly as his long-fingered hand trailed up the side of my hips, brushing my breasts. “No matter how desirable the outside of you is, you will always be repulsive to the true vampires. Your death will make me a hero.” He glanced at the cage. “Among other things.”
Until then, I’d been preoccupied with the soul-wrenching pain of the dark magic pulsing through me that I hadn’t noticed the silence. The complete silence.
The gaze of everyone in the room, including Thorne, whose heavy stare had been on me, went to the cage.
The animal inside it was no longer wild. It was standing still, statuesque, its face blank and its red eyes focused on Earnshaw.
I’d thought the wild and carnal thrashing had been disturbing, but this, this was worse.
Especially because I knew what it meant.
“You’re its sire.” The cold chill of realization settled over me with what that meant.
Earnshaw clapped his hands, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls in a taunt.
“Yes, Isla. I am the first vampire in existence to turn a human.”
I sneered at the prideful look on his face. “You’re not going to get any medals, psycho,” I hissed through gritted teeth. “That is not a vampire. Or a human. You’ve succeeded in polluting our race more than I ever could. That’s an abomination.”