Chapter Fourteen
The Viewer’s Lounge was renowned not only for their exquisite cuisine from all over the world but for their enormous television. The entire left wall was a screen rising three stories into the air. Thanks to advanced computers, the screen was divided into different pictures. The largest showed a Mariners baseball game, while other smaller screens displayed different news stations and sitcoms. One even had the Discovery Channel playing. Directly in front of the gigantic screen were about twenty rows of folding theater chairs with narrow tables placed between the seats.
Behind the theater seating rose elegant stairwells leading up to lofts. The right wall held two balconies, while two more extended out above our heads and directly across from where we stood. These four balconies contained private sitting areas, some looking like small living rooms, others with tables and chairs.
Though I had never eaten here, I had read an article in the paper. Each seat, or section, could tune into any of the channels being displayed with small speakers or headphones. During special events such as the Olympics, the Super Bowl, or major premieres it was nearly impossible to get a seat. In fact, seats for the next Olympics were already sold out.
Eventually, I rolled my tongue back into my mouth and followed them.
We skirted around the back to make sure we didn’t bother any of the viewers and exited through the main door. Nik stopped and whispered something in one of the bouncer's ears. I thought it was “get us another car,” but I could have been wrong. A moment later, a car carefully rounded the corner and double parked. Nik took the keys from the driver and climbed into the driver’s seat. Josh opened the passenger door for me before climbing into the back.
Nik drove through the dark streets at surprising speed. Evidently, he knew exactly where Josh lived. The others were silent, so I followed their example. A few minutes later, he slammed the car to a stop outside a simple, seventies-style apartment complex—its roof flat and the exterior painted in a drab orange color. We all got out and followed Josh to the second story.
His apartment, though larger, made mine seem like the Windsor Castle. Most of his furniture looked as though it came right out of a second-hand store or garage sale. Granted, it was well disguised by dirty clothing. I glanced around, hoping to find a safe place to sit. I didn't find one. Josh moved to his kitchen counter, brushed off an empty blood bag to uncover his land line phone. He dialed a number and began ordering Chinese food. I glanced at Nikolai. He too was looking for a place to sit.
“Do you have another blood bag?” Nik asked when Josh got off the phone. “Ash hasn't eaten in a while.”
He joined us in the living room—or was it the laundry room?—with a blood bag. Josh cracked it open before he handed it to me. The smell of blood sent my mind into a free fall. I felt the agony in my gums and the tightness in my chest. Without a clear thought, I sank my teeth into the plastic and drank until it was all gone. Evidently, I had gotten over my aversion to blood designated for a dying person. It was a basic necessity to my existence, I now realized. Doesn't mean I liked it, but such is life.
When I opened my eyes, my senses returning, I realized I had an audience. Though Josh was mechanically picking up the clothing, his eyes were continually flickering toward where I stood. Nik was not so subtle. “What?” I whispered.
“You have a long way to go in obtaining control.”
“I haven't had a lot of practice.”
“True.” Nik glanced in Josh's direction, who took the hint and removed himself and his pile of dirty clothing. I collapsed on the cleared couch, the blood bag still in my grasp. Nik sat next to me in a fluid, controlled motion. “You feel guilty about desiring blood.”
It wasn't a question, but I nodded anyway. “I don't think I can do this.”
“You don't really have a choice.”
“I could ask you to kill me.”
“I won't do that,” Nik stated in a calm voice. I hadn't even ruffled his feathers. It surprised me considering how in favor he was with the notion just a few minutes ago.
“Only ‘cause you've been ordered not to.”
“Correct. But don't worry. Despite my interest in killing you, I will help you find balance.”
“Balance?” I asked.
“If you cling to your humanity, you will feel guilt every time you feed and it will destroy you. If you reject your humanity, let it fade out of you, you will become a raving lunatic barely in control of your own desires. You have to find the middle ground, where you hold on to some semblance of who you were while not burying yourself in guilt. You'll get there… someday.”
“What if I don't want to get used to it? What if I don't want to become okay with all this?”
Boy, this is one thing I left out of my books. Vampires shouldn't have to feel guilt. They never do in the movies. In fact, life had been far better when I was a human. You never hear a vampire say that in books, do you? Well, I sure thought it. Since turning into a vamp, all I'd experienced was running, death, and cravings. Oh, and the fear; lots of fear.
Before Nik could answer, the doorbell rang. I jumped up and backed away from the door. Call me a Nervous Nelly, but at this point, I didn't trust anything or anyone. Nik rolled his eyes and stalked to the door. He opened it to reveal a Chinese kid of about eighteen or nineteen. He wore a red jacket with the logo of a local Chinese restaurant. The tips of his dark hair had been bleached a frosty white, while the white of his eyes could be seen all around his pupils as he stared at Nik in shock. Nik grabbed him by the jacket and yanked him through the doorway before he could regain his composure.
I skirted around them and shut the door just as Josh rejoined us. The delivery boy dropped the bag of Chinese food as he stumbled against the couch. Josh kept to the sideline, a guilty look clouding his face. I followed his example—guilty look and all—and stayed near the wall.
“What's going on?” the boy asked in an American accent before breaking out into a string of Chinese phrases that sounded like expletives; he must have been second-generation American. “Nik! I know nothin’!”
“I haven't even asked you any questions yet, Fagan! So how can you know that you don't know what I want,” Nik said, in a strangely gentle voice.
“I… uh… I… ”
“Now, let's talk. Ever heard the name Ashley Hawn?” Fagan pressed his lips together, but his eyes flicked to me for a split second. Nik spotted the movement. “I take it you've heard of her then. What does Richard want with her?”
Fagan gulped. “I'm not exactly sure, but I've heard talk… I mean… it's just from the lowlifes, you know, the underdogs. But they say something big's going down and that Richard needs her. Most of the foot soldiers are hopin’ to get her and use her as leverage. They want in Richard's good graces. You know how Richard runs things.”
“What does Richard need her for?”
“I… I don't know. They don't even know.”
“What about the fae and the wolves? Why do they want her?”
“The fae want her too?” Fagan squeaked. His eyes glanced in my direction again.
“Yes! So tell me exactly why nearly every mystical being in the greater Seattle area is trying to take her.”
“I don't know!”
“Fagan,” murmured Nik. “I always know when you're lying. Don't make me do something we would both regret.”
I stepped forward, ready to stop him. It didn't seem fair that this kid should get hurt for my sake. Enough people had already died for me. Before I took more than a step, Josh grabbed me by the shoulders and yanked me back. He clamped a hand over my mouth and held me to his chest. Evidently, his fifty years of vampirism was enough to make him much stronger than me. Ugh, I don't like being the weak one. I thought about taking up weight lifting as I gave up the struggle.
Fagan tried to squirm away, but Nik grabbed him by the shoulders and pressed him against the thin couch cushions. My desire to protect him welled up even stronger. I increased my struggle agai
nst Josh's grasp, but couldn't get free. How dare they threaten him for my sake? I hadn't signed up for torturing children.
“You know you can't get away, not with three vamps in the room. Now, you see that girl over there.” Fagan's eyes flickered to me again. “She's been a vamp for just a few days and she hasn't quite gotten control over her… urges. I'd hate to leave you in a room with her.”
The very thought of the boy's blood made my breath come in frantic gasps. I felt my teeth begin to shift into fangs and was suddenly thankful for Josh's firm grasp. I could hear Fagan’s heart pumping his blood through his veins. I glared at the back of Nik's head, certain he could feel my fiery wrath. How dare he use me like this! The boy gulped and shivered. He probably thought my glare was directed at him. His fear made his heart beat faster and blood smell sweeter.
After the briefest second, all my thoughts turned to draining him. I no longer cared whether they were threatening him, or even beheading him. All I could see was red. All I could hear was his heartbeat.
“Look. I don't know for sure, but I hear things, you know, and some of 'em say it's for a spell or something. Like a sacrifice. Richard's been looking for things, but that’s all I know!”
“What sort of spell?”
“I don't know!”
Nik slammed him against the couch just hard enough to make the furniture slide on the hardwood floor.
“I don't know!” he shrieked again.
Nik seemed to believe him this time. He stood up and released his hold on Fagan's jacket. He pulled out his sleek, leather wallet and dropped a bill on Fagan's lap before stepping away. The boy scooped up the money and bolted for the door. Once he was gone, Josh released his grip on me and took the Chinese food to the kitchen where he proceeded to eat it with a little blood dribbled over it like sauce. I stood in the corner shivering.
A sacrifice? Just great. Like my non-life wasn't weird enough. Suddenly I was the bloody sacrificial virgin?
Nik turned to look at me, an expression I couldn't understand pulling his eyebrows together and puckering the corners of his firm mouth. Before I could decipher it, Josh spoke, “Well that was only marginally helpful,” the words garbled around half an egg roll.
“More so than you think. If it is a spell, then we'll just have to go see the wizard.”
Josh swallowed suddenly. “Do we have to? She doesn’t like me much.”
“Who does?” Nik smirked. I was too stressed to be impressed that cranky, old Nikolai had just made a joke. “Come on. We need to get moving before the sun comes up.”
“Are we really going to go wake up a little old lady at four in the morning?” asked Josh.
“Do you have a better idea?”