Halle-fucking-lujah.
She grabbed the scratchy, wool blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. Upending the cot onto its side, she pulled it close until the ends connected with the walls of her corner, and she sat inside the triangle it made.
Childish? Possibly. Certainly it didn’t serve any better purpose other than giving her the thinnest of fragile psychological barriers to hide behind, but hey, it had been a truly rotten night, and right now she would take any positives she could lay her hands on.
Patting the edge of the cot, she took several deep breaths.
Then she turned off her flashlight. It was even more important to conserve the batteries as much as possible now.
She did end up getting an answer to one question. Now she knew where she was.
For decades, she had heard stories of the tunnels that ran underneath San Francisco. In the 1990s, when she and Julian had been at the hottest part of their scorching affair, Julian had taken Nightkind troops to burn out a nest of them that had gathered below the city. Melly had spent a sleepless night, aching for him to return.
Vampyres turned feral when they fed often enough from drug-addicted humans. She would have thought that fact alone would be all the detriment they needed to keep from doing it, but as Julian had told her, human problems didn’t just vanish when one became a Vampyre.
If they were an alcoholic or a drug addict as a human, they still had those cravings as a Vampyre, only then neither alcohol nor drugs had any direct effect. Not only did Vampyres need human blood for sustenance, they needed blood as a carrying agent.
They could only get drunk from feeding from humans who were inebriated, and they could only get high from humans who were high. And Julian never could keep the tunnels completely clear. The ferals always came back eventually.
Melly was in the tunnels, somewhere underneath San Francisco.
The feral Vampyres kept making incoherent, snarling noises and trying to get to her through the cell door for a very long time. She pulled one corner of the blanket over her head.
Rocking, she whispered, “Mom’s going to be so pissed when she finds out.”
She huddled in on herself, until the warmth from the rough blanket took away the chill of shock that had set in. Then she turned on the light again and inspected her packet of food.
Food, ha. Her lip curled. Someone had picked up a few random items at a gas station. There were a couple of packets of jerky, a bag of mixed nuts and a couple of candy bars. Still, it was calories and better than nothing. She would have been really worried about her relative worth if they hadn’t given her any food at all.
Opening a packet of jerky, she chewed each bite slowly and thoroughly, sucking every bit of taste and satisfaction she could out of it. While it didn’t fill the gnawing hole in her belly, at least it was something. While she had a terrible sweet tooth and wanted one of the candy bars badly, Justine’s words echoed in her mind.
Most likely bring more food and water.
She didn’t dare eat anything else, because she had no idea how long she needed to make what she had last. Firmly, she set aside the food and opened her bottle of water to drink only what she felt she absolutely needed.
After that, she got to work again.
Inspecting her cot, she found the mechanics of it were simple. It folded in the middle and sat on four legs that were hinged so they could be folded against the bottom of the frame. After studying the legs, she narrowed her eyes at the Vampyres still straining at the bars of her cage.
Taking hold of one of the legs, she bent it against the hinge, back and forth, until the hinge broke. Hefting the aluminum piece, she stood and walked over to the bars to stand just outside the reach of those grasping hands. As she walked up and down in front of the Vampyres, she watched and waited…
Until there. That one.
Moving fast, she darted forward to snatch the wrist of one of the Vampyres and yank on it as hard as she could.
Snarling, the Vampyre’s body slammed against the bars of the cage.
In that same moment, Melly struck, stabbing her makeshift stake into the Vampyre’s chest. It wasn’t easy. The cot leg didn’t have a sharp enough point, so she had to throw her weight into driving the tip through the Vampyre’s chest wall. If she had been less fit or a human woman, she might not have been able to do it.
As it was, she felt the tip break through the hard chest plate and slide into the soft flesh underneath. The sensation made her stomach roil.
Heart pounding, she threw herself backward before any of the others could grab hold of her, while the Vampyre she staked shuddered and collapsed into dust.
Shivering and breathing hard, Melly looked at all the others. They watched her in return, red eyes glowing in the beam of her flashlight.
One down.
Three
The first rosy blush of sunrise was beginning to peek over rolling hills when Julian arrived at the Light Fae Queen’s palatial home in west Bel Air. Another quintessential California residence, her mansion was elegant, old Hollywood.
He knew from memory the open-style entertaining rooms that graced the ground floor, with French doors that opened to extensive manicured gardens filled with flowerbeds surrounding an immense swimming pool. Tatiana loved to entertain, and she had volunteered to host many political functions over the last ninety years.
Yolanthe had tried to insist upon accompanying him, but he had vetoed that idea. He wanted her to stay on point on the search for Justine, so he took a few of his personal guards instead.
He had flown into LAX on the Nightkind government jet. The town car that Tatiana had reserved for him was specifically modified for Vampyres’ use, with dark, treated windows that blocked out harmful UV rays.
As soon as the car slowed to a stop in front of the Queen’s residence, his guards donned the protective gear that all Vampyres needed to wear if they chose to go out during the daytime — clothes made of material that specifically blocked UV light and that covered every inch of their bodies, leather gloves, hoods to cover their faces and heads, and dark glasses. The effect was sinister, but unavoidable.
Unprotected, their movements and actions would soon be severely hampered by daylight, so the guards were following standard procedure, but Julian was under no such edict. Since it was a short distance from the town car to the house, and the sun had not yet crested over the eastern hills, he didn’t bother to don full protective gear. Instead, he grabbed a cloak in one hand and made for the wide, double front doors. His guards fell into step on either side of him.
Before Julian had a chance to knock, two Light Fae guards opened the doors, dressed in their signature blue and tan uniforms. They had clearly been watching for his arrival.
One guard led him toward the rear of the house, to a large, familiar family-style living room.
In the doorway, Julian jerked a halt. “There has to be somewhere else I can wait.”
“Sir,” said the Light Fae guard. “This is the safest room for you. It faces west and won’t get any direct sunlight until late afternoon.”
“I know that,” Julian said shortly.
“Do you want me to escort you to another room anyway?” The guard’s handsome features were puzzled.
His expression grim, Julian gestured to his own guards to remain in the hall as he stepped inside and glanced around. Very little had changed about the room since he had last been in it.
Wrestling with unruly emotions, he told the other male, “Never mind. This will do.”
The guard asked, “Do you require refreshment, sir?”
Surprised, he raised one eyebrow. “Are you offering to donate?”