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Another was close enough to me that its shriveled, mummified fingers were only inches from my throat. I couldn’t stop staring into the empty, gaping holes of its eye sockets, every breath coming short and sharp, too rapid for me to manage a scream.

“Morons. All of you. Back up, you lot. Bring the other one over here.”

The ones closest to me shuffled back, some of them voicing what sounded like annoyed moans.

A man soon stood before me, his hands on his hips and his brilliant green eyes narrowed with irritation. He towered over me, nearly Chaz’s height, though he was skinny as a rail. I thought that might be an Armani suit draped on his lanky frame. Whatever it was, it wasn’t off the rack.

He gestured angrily at the zombies, shooing away the ones blocking the path of the zombie still clinging to Sara, so it could set her down next to me. She smelled awful, and I didn’t even want to know what that was it had left behind in her hair. The stink grew worse as she clung to me, one leg hooking around mine as she grabbed at me and simultaneously tried to crawl under my skin and shove me in front of her.

I couldn’t blame her. I was pretty freaked out, too, though I was currently a bit too scared to do more than stand there staring stupidly at the necromancer.

Once the zombies shuffle-walked their way into a rough semicircle around us, some of them dripping some black liquid from hands and mouths, the guy regarded us with a frown. He slid a long-fingered hand through his dark brown hair, settling some of the gelled spikes against his skull. “Well, this is a new development. I don’t suppose you two were here with that fruit fly pretender, were you?”

Neither Sara nor I could figure out what he was talking about. We were a little too worried about having our entrails ripped out through our throats to consider it.

“For the love of Crowley, will you two stop looking at me like that? They’re not going to hurt you.”

Sara made a high-pitched keening sound. I think I might have gibbered something, but I’m not sure what.

“Right. Excellent. You know, just do me a favor. When you get back to that do-me queen, Clyde, you tell that asshole that I’m coming for him next. Got it?”

We both nodded, fingers digging into each other’s skin and hair. That might have been blood or something else trickling over my fingers by her cheek. Didn’t know, didn’t care.

He sighed, and moved closer, lifting his hand. “Yeah. Of course you got it.” I had time to notice that his palm was tattooed with an intricate design of a star in a circle with a few other smaller symbols inside, very similar to the design I had seen burned into the floorboards at Arnold’s apartment, before he pressed his hand against Sara’s temple. “Sleep.”

Her body was a sudden deadweight against mine, dragging me down to the ground as my weak knees gave out. He knelt down, his bright, nearly glowing eyes boring into mine, sucking me into a cold, lonely place.

“That goes for you, too. Sleep.”

My vision grayed at the edges and faded to a pinpoint. It felt like all of my strength flooded out of my body as I slumped over, my cheek resting on the dirty alley floor. It might have been my imagination, but I thought he might have touched Sara’s arm, brushing his fingers over her sleeve.

Before long, the necromancer rose and dusted off his pants legs, striding purposely toward the mouth of the alley. He snapped his fingers, and the zombies trailed after him in a slow shamble, leaving us alone with what remained of Trinity in a black-and-red-stained pile a few yards away.

Then everything went black.

Chapter 17

“. . . stinks, man. Are you sure we have to help them? We’re never going to get enough karaoke spots for all of us if we don’t leave now.”

“Shut up, Leewan. Pick that one up.”

“Damn it, why do you get to carry the pretty one?”

The “pretty one”? Meaning Sara, not me. Awesome. Duly noted: Leewan was an asshole.

“Because I’m the boss of you. Now be quiet and get the other one.”

Cold, strong fingers slid under my arms, and the sensation of being dragged across the concrete woke me up a bit more. I couldn’t bring myself to open my eyes yet.

Pavement heat soon changed to a grave-like chill, and Leewan’s grip shifted as he picked me up off the ground. “Cripes, they stink. You sure you want to bring them into the hideout?”

Thrane didn’t answer him. I squinted my eyes open as Leewan grumbled under his breath, taking the steps with a gait so jarring, my teeth were rattling. He glanced down at me as I groaned, giving me a fangy grin.

“Wakey, wakey!”

I gave him the most irritated glare I could muster under the circumstances. “Anyone ever tell you you’re an asshole?”

He shrugged and dropped me. I wasn’t expecting it and voiced a little shriek that cut off as soon as my butt hit the couch, some of the air knocked out of me as my spine connected with the arm. Owww.

“Every day, but for you, I’ve trotted out an extra side of—”

“Leewan!”

Leewan looked up, frowning, then abruptly skittered out of Thrane’s way with inhuman speed, giving the other vampire room to place Sara with a little more care on the cushions next to me. She was still out like a light. Thrane dusted his hands off and glanced at me.

“Normally I don’t care much for anyone who threatens me and mine, but seeing as you got attacked by zombies on my doorstep, I figured I’d offer you two a hand.”

“Yeah, right, Jimmy. You’re just hoping the blonde will give you her number.”

Thrane glared at Mac, but didn’t dispute it. He turned back to me. “The gang knows they’re not allowed to eat you. I’m going out. You can stay here until your partner wakes up. Bathroom’s over there if you want to clean up.” He hooked a thumb in the direction of a door with chipped, peeling paint and a black and yellow “Caution: Hazardous Area, Authorized Personnel Only” sign tacked on.

Some of the other vampires got off the couches and floor cushions to follow Thrane out of the basement and into the night. He started belting out “Panic Switch” by the Silversun Pickups once he reached the top of the stairs, spreading his arms wide and tilting his head back like he was howling the song to the heavens.

Half of the ones following him soon picked up the song, too, the pack of singing vampires disappearing into the night, the sound not quite fading entirely as the door slammed shut behind them.

I wondered if maybe I was dreaming. Really weird dreams as a result of the mage’s dark magic or something.

“Don’t mind Thrane,” Shannon, the girl in the nice clothes, said, glancing at me over the top of a very outdated magazine. “He’s not totally right in the head, but he means well.”

Lifting my hands to rub at my temples, I leaned forward, doing my best to ignore the twinge in my back. “That’s great. I don’t suppose you have any idea what the hell happened out there?”

She shrugged and tossed the mag aside, lifting her legs to cross them at the ankles and let them dangle over the side of the couch Thrane had been on when we first got here. Her dark eyes examined me with curiosity, her lips quirking upward. “You going to be able to make it back to wherever it is you’re staying?”

“I have no idea. If the car is still out there, maybe, but we’re not from around here so I don’t know if I can find my way back without directions.”

“Clyde’s place in Santa Monica? I can write it down for you.”

I nodded thanks, scrubbing my palms over my cheeks and doing my best not to start crying. Across the country from my friends and family, lost in Los Angeles, and stuck with a bunch of lunatic, fringe-hobo vampires. If I saw Clyde again, I just might throttle the guy for putting me in the middle of his mess. That’s assuming he hadn’t been murdered by zombies by the time we got back to his place.