“Why aren’t there any?” he asked. “I thought those places were in damn near every city now.” Some said they were safe houses for vampires. And those some just really knew how to bullshit.
Not a safe house. More like a slaughterhouse.
Even though humans were the preferred prey in the feeding rooms, the vamps never had to worry about the humans turning on them and shouting to the authorities about the new night club that served up blood. After all, one bite, and a vampire could link with a human’s mind.
A link meant control. You didn’t turn on those who controlled you.
For the humans, it was all too easy to get hooked on the thrill of the bite.
If the vamp wanted the victim to feel pain, the bite could hurt more than a knife wound or gunshot.
The bite could also feel better than sex.
It was all up to the vampire. Pleasure or pain.
Simon slanted a quick glance at Dee’s still figure.
Almost better than sex.
“I’ve made a point of shutting down any feeding room that tries to spring up.”
Oh, yeah, he bet she had. “So where do we start then?”
He felt her eyes. Didn’t have to look, just knew those chocolate eyes were on him. “I thought you had vamp contacts in this town.”
Careful now. “Ah, the vamps I know scattered when word came down about the Born Master.”
“Why? If they weren’t linked to him, there’d be no need to flee.”
The link. The screwed family tree that connected vampires. A Born Master took a victim, and formed a psychic connection with his prey. But if the Master turned that prey into the Taken, and the new vampire took another victim, the Born Master’s connection would trickle into the new prey, and keep trickling down through every blood exchange. Like freaking tentacles, reaching out for minds and spirits.
A Born Master wasn’t just stronger physically than other vampires. He was like a psychic black hole, sucking in all the prey he could find.
And controlling them.
A Born Master didn’t just pick up the thoughts of those in his link. He could whisper his thoughts to them. Compel them.
Rule them. His army of helpless minions. Good, bad, everything in between. All his for the taking and for the killing.
The Taken were never truly free. Not until the Born Master who’d started their blood lineage was dead.
Never an easy feat.
“Huh. Well, if your contacts are out, then I guess we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way.”
Simon knew he was not going to like this. “And that would be?” He braked at a Stop sign, one that had been spray painted a garish yellow. They’d reached the edge of the city. The part where the good folks never visited. Too many criminals. Too much darkness.
Too much evil.
Simon glanced at Dee. Yep, her eyes were on him. “We find the perfect prey,” she said simply. “Then wait for the vamps to take the bait. When they come up for a bite, we nail their asses.”
“Interesting plan.” His fingertips pounded a fast, hard beat on the steering wheel. “You really think it’s going to work?”
One shoulder lifted. “Figure I’ve got a fifty-fifty shot with it. If it doesn’t, then I have a witch who owes me a favor. Maybe I can get a summoning spell.”
A summoning spell? Now she was talking spooky shit. You had to be damn careful when you used dark magic. You never knew what in the hell would hitch a ride on that darkness and come traveling straight to you.
As he watched her, thinking about his own darkness, a shiver worked over Dee’s body. “Uh, Dee? You okay?”
“Fine. Just cold. Can we turn the heater up?”
Because summers in Baton Rouge were cold. Right. But he still flicked on the heater. Didn’t matter to him. “Maybe we should wait.” He sure wasn’t feeling up to kicking major vampire ass right then. Perhaps after a meal or two.
“No time.” She criss-crossed her arms and rubbed her flesh. She had on a light blouse, one of her shirts she’d found at the cabin. One that gave him a nice glimpse of her breasts. “We’ve already lost a few hours. We hunt, now and—there.”
He followed her suddenly sharp gaze. A man had stepped out of the shadows. The faint red glow of his cigarette lit the night. “Who the hell is that?”
“An informer.” She tilted her head and his stare snapped back to her and to that beautiful bared throat.
Focus.
But the drumming was back in his temples. Harder, more painful than before.
“Ian knows this city. He’ll be able to tell me the latest whispers on the vamps.”
Control. Simon sucked in a deep breath.
“I knew he’d be here.” She unhooked her belt.
“And how’d you know that?” He gritted, turning off the engine.
Dee pointed toward the hollowed-out husk of a building on the left. “Because his brother died in that fire a year ago. He comes here every Friday. He comes to remember.”
Simon narrowed his eyes and looked once more at that glowing cigarette. “Uh, yeah, how’d that fire start?”
“You don’t want to know.” She pushed open the door, then hesitated. “Ian doesn’t take too well to others. Just stay here, okay? I’ll only be a few minutes.”
Staying in the fucking car. Was that what he’d been reduced to?
But the woman was gone. Running across the street. Disappearing in and out of the shadows.
Staying in the fucking car. No. Not his style.
He was there to watch her back. Not to be left behind.
He opened his door soundlessly, then, moving slower than her, but keeping to the same shadows, he began to follow her.
The smoke from the cigarette drifted to her nostrils. Dee stepped into the faint streetlight, deliberately placing herself in Ian’s path. With Ian, you had to identify yourself fast—or he’d attack.
And sometimes, he attacked no matter what.
“Ian.” She made her voice quiet but calm. “Ian, I need your help.”
He was half-hidden by the darkness. The cigarette dangled from his fingertips. He wasn’t smoking. Hadn’t smoked in a year.
“Dee?” The tip of the cigarette bobbed and ash drifted into the night. “That you?”
Okay, he wasn’t coming at her with fists yet. A good sign. She’d told Simon to stay back because one look at him, and she knew Ian would have broken.
The guy just hadn’t been the same since the fire. Not that she blamed him. No, not at all. “Yeah, Ian, it’s me.”
He shifted his stance a bit, bringing the right side of his face more into the light. A strong, hard face. “Heard you killed a human, Dee.” He shook his head. “Bad move that.”
“I didn’t do it, Ian.”
“Humans are supposed to stick together. All those paranormal assholes out there want us gone. We have to fight ’em.”
More ash drifted away.
“I want to fight them tonight, Ian.” She had to keep Ian focused. So hard. The man already had one foot in the grave. Maybe that was how he did it because she sure as hell wasn’t sure how he found out all his information about the Other.
Ian was psychic. She’d always known that. But since the fire, it was like he was some kind of open channel to the darkness in the city.
He took a step forward, and the light drifted across him, across the ruined, twisted, and reddened flesh on the left side of his face.
Dee kept her eyes on his. “Help me, Ian.”
“The vampires are coming for you, Sandra Dee.” His voice had hollowed and taken on that empty tone that came with his visions. “Inching ever closer. Closer than you know…”