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Paul was sitting on the porch swing, leaning forward, his blue eyes shimmering in the moonlight as they watched my every blink. Blond straggly hair brushed the striped sleeves of his bowling shirt, the shoulders of which seemed wider, his form larger and more commanding. As if he were gaining in power.
“Hey, Paul,” I said casually, more as a warning to my three vamps to stay put inside the doorway.
They tensed out of the corner of my eye. Sawyer brought his thick arm up to block the other two where they stood and stepped onto the porch, his steps light for his massive size.
Paul sat between them and me. He could get to them before I could. Yes, they were vampires, but he was this dark unknown. No one knew what he was capable of. Yet he didn’t seem to notice Sawyer on the porch with him. Or didn’t care to. He only had eyes for me.
“Fancy meeting you here,” he said. Instead of the ancient, rustic voice he’d had just days ago, it now boomed loud and deep.
“Uh-huh.” I wished my aim was better with my stake so I could throw it at him, though stakes hadn’t even affected the demon who’d wanted to drag me to hell as the devil’s bride. I had my seraph knife, but again, I sucked at throwing. I literally had nothing to use against Paul, and if I did, I didn’t know it. “You must be a riot at parties with your repetitive conversational skills.”
“Lovely night for a stroll, isn’t it?” he asked.
“No, Paul. It isn’t.” I squeezed my stake tighter until my knuckles ached. “We played this game already, remember?”
He stood then, tall, imposing, the top of his head almost grazing the porch ceiling. Even Sawyer had to tilt his neck to look at him.
“Enough is enough! Get the fuck out of here!” Jacek shoved at Sawyer’s arm and elbowed past him onto the porch, his normally happy face twisted into a ferocious scowl.
Sawyer caught him around the middle before he could get any closer to Paul.
But Paul was so focused on me, he didn’t even seem to notice. “I think I’ll take that stroll now.”
I blinked hard at the words, grasping to understand their meaning and why they settled dread into my bones deep enough to shake them.
Then, in the space between seconds, Paul vanished. A great hurricane-like wind howled through the night. It slammed into me, knocking my feet from the ground, sweeping my loose hair into a blinding tangle around my head.
Something boomed through the night. The door, I realized once I could see again. It had slammed shut.
But most importantly, the porch was now empty.
My three vamps were gone.
A strangled cry tore from my mouth as my fists clenched the grass, my eyes glued to the front door.
What had Paul done?
I signaled my brain to go, to move me, to stand me up, but it took precious seconds to flash me images of what might be happening behind that closed door instead. Was Paul in there with my vampires? Slicing them open like he’d done to Tim?
Panic flared, raw and hot though my veins. I finally surged to my feet and flung myself forward.
A loud crack came from the other side of the door. And then the whole thing was tilting, tilting, until it crashed onto the porch. Three vampires stood just inside, very much intact as far as I could see, and very much pissed. Their eyes glowed red, fangs bared, fists balled at their sides. Sawyer stood in front of the other two, always the protector, now settling his massive booted foot on the floor. He’d kicked the door down.
I charged them at the same time they did me, relief stinging my eyes.
“Are you all right?” Sawyer demanded, splitting his attention between me and the night.
Eddie cradled my face between his palms, several emotions blazing across his expression too quickly to name. “What did he do to you? Are you hurt?”
Jacek propped me up with his muscular arm around my waist, and I sagged into him.
“I’m okay,” I assured them. “What happened to you?”
“He threw us back into the house,” Jacek growled.
“He separated you from me and...” I shook my head, still cradled in Eddie’s hands as he scanned me up and down for injuries, I supposed. “He said he was going to take that stroll.”
Were those two things related? The separating and the strolling? Or were those just the words and the actions of a deranged psycho?
Sawyer came to my other side and put his hand on my hip, still scanning the entire street. “His magic is strong. Did you feel it?”
“He’s getting stronger,” I said. “The last time I saw him, which was what, four days ago? He wasn’t anywhere near that strength.”
Unless he’d been holding out on me, but that didn’t really feel like his bowling-shirted style. He’d only been testing me before now. Now, it appeared he’d declared war, one I had zero clue how to win since no mortal slayer ever had.
I locked eyes with all of my vamps in turn. “Which means I need to figure out a way to crush him fast. Before he keeps gaining strength.”
* * *
“BIOLOGY IS SUPER. BIOLOGY is my pal. Biology is super. Biology is my pal.” I repeated it like a mantra as I sat down to take my biology test online in the hopes that it would please the biology gods. I’d studied, or at least tried to, but the charts and molecular structures I’d had to memorize kept bleeding with images of Paul and what he might’ve meant by I think I’ll take that stroll now. He’d gotten inside my head, and I’d let him.
Bad slayer.
But biologically speaking, some things had stuck. Some single-celled organisms were beasts at survival, even as small and seemingly inconsequential as they were often thought to be. I wanted to be a single-celled organism when I grew up.
I hemmed and hawed over some questions and BS’d my way through the essay portion, then sent another few mantras up to the biology gods and hit submit. Hopefully it was enough.
As I dashed out the door of my apartment for another shift at The Bean Dream, I glanced once again at the hallway walls in my building. Any other day, they were highly uninteresting, just regular, boring walls. Today, though, next to each and every door including my apartment’s, a hole the size of a doorknob hollowed out the paint, plaster, and wood. From what I’d seen and the sound of Podunk City’s buzzing residents, everyone’s doors had slammed open last night.
Everyone’s.
I wished I knew what it meant, but I seriously doubted it had to do with puppies and rainbows. More like dark unknowns intent on slaying the slayer.
Between a rush of bored customers at The Bean Dream, Sylvia, my boss, wandered from the supply room, struggling with a large bag of coffee beans. She didn’t look happy.
“Murder, murder, murder,” she muttered.
I bit back a laugh, taking the bag from her and easily tossing it underneath the counter with the rest. She was usually the epitome of poised. “Bad day?”
“First the thing with the doors last night”—she waved absently to the shop’s shattered glass door now taped with cardboard—“then the rude delivery man. Little murders are legal, right? Just a tiny bit of murder?”
“Technically, no.” Said the woman who staked vampires to death. Except three of them who staked her with their— Ahem. “But my lips are sealed should any unfortunate delivery men disappear.”
She frowned and rubbed at her ears. “Maybe I’ll just go do some paperwork instead.”
“Want me to bring you a gingerbread latte with extra whipped cream and a voodoo doll?”
“It’s like you’re a saint or something. Yes, please.” She smiled, though it looked pained, and started toward her office.
The overhead bell rang as the card-boarded door pushed open, and two customers came in discussing whether last night’s door hijinks was caused by a pressurized windstorm.
If they only knew.
* * *
WITH MY HAND ON THE new cemetery lock, I closed my eyes briefly and willed myself to be calm. This would be like any other night. Not like last night. Not at all.
Still, the deepest part of my soul shivered, even though I hated to admit it. What if I didn’t have the lady balls to go through this night after night, battling a dark unknown I wasn’t even sure I could beat? Maybe I should become an immortal vampire slayer to give me a boost in strength and more will to fight. Then if I beat Paul, I could live with my vamps forever. I could certainly think of worse things than that, but once again, the only thing holding me back was the thought of Mom in the hereafter, whatever that might look like. Without me. And me without her.
“Am I nuts?” I whispered. Of course I was. I was talking to a gate. But was I that nuts to think I actually stood a chance against Paul as I was right now? Well, I was still alive. So I guess score a touchdown or something for me, at least for the time being.
I smashed the lock from the gate, thinking there had to be an easier way than always breaking them. The gate swung open slowly in a long, painful wail as if mourning Tim. Hopefully another grounds man could be found to fill his shoes soon.
I closed the gate after me and started down my usual paths, taking comfort in the familiar dips and curves of the rocky path. “Here, vampy vampy vampy.”
It still felt strange hunting vampires when hours later, one would likely be screwing my brains out, but this was fine. At least that was what I told myself. The vampires who wandered the graveyard were brand new, lured there because that was where they thought they should be—among the dead. It must’ve been a very confusing time for them as they dealt with their feral bloodlust. But my vamps were older and more experienced. Still, the difference in how I treated the new and old wasn’t lost on me.
Several yards to my left, a tall gravestone growled. Odd for an inanimate object. Plucking my Pebbles stake from my bun, I marched toward it then peered behind the marble column. Nobody was there. Maybe it was the gravestone. After I gave it the stink-eye, I searched the cemetery, keeping my slayer sense on alert, and tightened my leather jacket against the frigid night.
The slightest shiver in the air behind me whirled me around. Red eyes met mine from six feet away. Fangs glinting in the moonlight, the vampire lunged toward me. But before I could raise my stake, a black blur flashed from the darkness. A metallic blade sang through the air and sliced the back of my hand. Pain flared. I dropped my stake on instinct and stumbled back.
What the hell?
The vampire was almost upon me, his jaws snapping and strings of drool running from his fangs down his chin.
Unarmed. I was unarmed and bleeding. No, wait. I snapped another stake free from the back belt loops of my pants. Now I was armed, but in my non-bleeding, non-dominant hand. This was sure to go well.
At the last possible second, I thrust the stake forward into the vampire’s chest. And missed his heart. Fuck.
His blood coated my hand and rained down on my boots. Still connected to my stake, the vampire lurched forward at my neck, a mad, gleeful smile splitting his mouth as if he were mocking me.
I shoved him back with a snarl of frustration, freeing my stake, and then stabbing it forward again. Target acquired. Mission accomplished.
Covering my wounded hand to staunch the blood flow, I looked around for whoever had sliced and diced me. The hooded figure stood a few feet away, the same one from last night, almost completely blended into the darkness.
“You missed,” the figure said. Male. An obnoxious one from the sound of him.
“You cut me,” I snapped.
“You’re the slayer,” he said.
“You’re a quick one.” I ground my teeth together, rolling my eyes to the sky in the hopes that it would zap this person out of existence. “Mind telling me what that was for? Do you normally go around trying to decapitate people’s hands?”
“I’m drawing the rest of the vampires nearby out so we can have a discussion.” He brought his fist to his mouth as if he were going to hurl. “If they can stand your stink.”
I leveled a glare at him, refusing to lower myself to a “yo momma” comeback. Funny, I’d grown used to being told I smelled... Wait. I peered closer. Was he a vampire and not a slayer like I’d originally thought?
“Are you a slayer?” I demanded.
He pointed left, to an incoming vampire.
I gripped my stake, still in my non-dominant hand, my other one still bleeding, and got the kill shot my first try.
“Why have a discussion now? Why not last night?” I asked, wiping the bottoms of my boots on a dry patch of grass.
He pointed right, to another incoming vampire, whom I quickly dispatched.
“Your pointing isn’t answering any of my questions,” I shot at him.
His head-to-toe black leather creaked as he studied me from inside his deep hood. “I’m following a trail set by those who chose you as the slayer.”
I looked at him sharply. “You better start explaining yourself, leaving no details out. You hear me?”
“Yes.” His voice hissed with annoyance, which bristled mine even more. “Loud and clear. I’m definitely not a slayer.” With a sweep of an arm, he revealed his head from under the hood. Orange-yellow eyes gazed at me, ringed by dark lashes, the same color as his thick, short hair. A smirk twisted his mouth, which was surrounded by facial scruff, and clearly a target for my fist. Some people’s faces—or vampire in his case—just begged to be punched, and this guy’s face ranked high on the list. So what was it about him that made me think he was a slayer?
“So you’re a vampire working for the slayer choosers,” I guessed.
“Wrong again. I work only for myself. I just happened to visit the Senate for some information.”
Senate. Was that what they called themselves? Some kind of slayer-chooser government types?
“And I’m sure they gave that information to you freely.” Fat chance since they’d barely told me squat, and what they had told me was written in a letter. “Where was it that you visited?”
He returned his black sword to the scabbard hanging from his hip and then settled both hands on the hilt while he observed me. “A small town near here off the beaten path, far enough away to be safe from your battles. They have all sorts of information on every slayer and some on a few high-profile vampires I almost found what I was looking for there, but not quite. So I came to you for help.”
My curiosity was certainly piqued. The thought of perusing that info while simultaneously grilling these Senate people buzzed through my skin.
“Help,” I said. “By slicing my hand and nearly getting me killed. I’m sure you’ll understand if I don’t tell you shit.”
His mouth twisted behind all that dark scruff in what I supposed was meant to be a smile. “Yes, but if you do, then I’ll give you the exact location of the Senate.”
Damn him. He’d likely read that was exactly what I wanted all over my face. “Pretty sure they wouldn’t like me stopping by even if I did know where they lived.”
“On the contrary. They seem to think pretty highly of you. Every slayer has their own life story written about them in a hand-sewn book. Yours is decorated in lovely, painstaking detail compared to everyone else’s, though its pages are blank. I only suppose that’s because your story isn’t yet finished.”
Interesting. Also highly suspect. I didn’t trust anything about this vampire.
“Every slayer has a book.” He dipped his chin as if to see if I were still conscious and paying attention. “That includes how they died, as well as all of their near deaths. That could help you figure out what hasn’t worked so can you focus on what could work with your...” He waved his hand. “Little dark unknown problem.”
“Little. Right.” I heaved a sigh. Well, that info would be pretty damn useful to have.
His ochre gaze roamed over the graveyard. “That thing’s presence was a heavy burden last night, almost like dragging chains. Powerful. Revolting. But...I don’t feel it tonight.”
I shook my head. “He started his stroll.”
“What?”
“Never mind. So I give you information, and you tell me where these Senate people are who know so much about everything.”
He nodded.
I shrugged. “So, what do you want to know?”
“I’m looking for the vampire who killed my brother. I would like for you to tell me where that vampire is.”
I lifted an eyebrow at the fading blood spot on the grass. “You sure it wasn’t this one?”
“Not that one. Older. And capable of killing a slayer.”
The air froze in my lungs. It just so happened that I knew two vampires who fit that description. Sawyer had been trained to kill slayers through the Necron Brotherhood, even though he never had, and Jacek had killed his slayer captor when he’d escaped. Both were capable.
I cemented my face and body into a blank slate so he wouldn’t be able to tell I’d stopped breathing. “You said this vampire killed your brother. Was he a slayer?”
He nodded. “Not a very good one, it turns out. There was another slayer in my family long ago who was much better. Anyway, my brother made a lot of mistakes, all of which I read about in the Senate’s tome about him. Tortured vampires. Became a vampire himself. Not the usual job description for a slayer, I’m sure.”
A slayer. A murdered slayer who tortured vampires. Which meant he could very well be looking for Jacek. My stomach tightened, and a cold sweat leaked down the back of my neck. But maybe not. I needed to chill.
“He was also my brother, though. Family. Blood.” His eyes sparked red. “I didn’t take his murder lightly.”
“I can see that,” I said. “I don’t typically interview the vamps before I stake them, so I’m afraid I can’t help you.” I made to skirt around him, but he blocked my path.
“I guess you’ll start, though, won’t you?” His scruffy jaw tightened, and I suddenly wanted to grab a razor to scrape his whole face off. “Otherwise I won’t tell you shit.”
I hated being backed into a corner. I hated being backed into a corner by a controlling, punchable, shavable vampire even worse. “How do I know you’ll deliver on your end of the bargain? How did you find this Senate place anyway? I doubt they invited you in, you being a vampire and all.”
“No, they didn’t invite me.” He unsheathed his sword, and my muscles coiled, preparing to duke it out with my wooden stake against sharp metal. What could go wrong?
“They didn’t invite Night’s Fall either.” He threw his sword up into the air where the black blade merged with the night and disappeared.
But not to my slayer sense. Two black wings sprouted from the hilt of the sword where it stayed airborne, invisible except the slight luminescent outline of its bird-like body and eyes. It soared above us with just the slightest rustle of wings I knew I wouldn’t be able to hear without my slayer sense. With a flick of his wrist, he signaled it back. It hurtled from the sky and landed in his outstretched hand, hilt first, as a black sword once again.
“Undetectable. Quiet as night,” he said. “Night’s Fall got me inside the Senate.”
Well, damn. That was cool. “You love your bird-sword, don’t you?”
“For you, the slayer, I’m sure they would invite you in,” he said, simultaneously ignoring me and sheathing his sword once again. “But just in case they don’t, I will transfer the power inside Night’s Fall to you, temporarily, and it will lead the way to the Senate.”
A wealth of knowledge at my fingertips was worth nothing if I betrayed Jacek, though, if that was, in fact, who we were talking about. A betrayer wasn’t who I was. I would find another way. But if I refused this vamp, it would raise all kinds of red flags like I was hiding something. Which I was. Shit shit shit.
“What did you say your name was?” I asked.
“Ronick.” He eyed me as if peering through to the back of my skull. “Brother to Roseff.”
My body went rigid while my insides shivered away from him. Roseff had been Jacek’s captor. This was not good.
I’d have to take his deal and then find some way to wriggle my way out of it and still get the sword, all while Paul was strolling about and plotting his next move to kill me.
Not good times. These were dark days. These were the days of our lives carved from a giant, scary assclown unknown and vamps who named their bird-swords.
“So?” Ronick rolled onto the balls of his feet, his leather ensemble protesting every centimeter of movement with loud creaks. “Are you going to ask anything about this vampire who killed my brother? Physical description? Name?”
“I was getting to that,” I snapped. “I’m still deciding if I can trust you and your bird-sword.”
He rolled his eyes to the moon above and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll spare you the time. Tall, short dark hair, muscular. Name’s Jacek Oliver Bonneville.”
My stomach dropped to my knees even though I’d known what he was going to say. My mouth soured to the point it burned my eyes.
I wasn’t built for betrayal. Even though I’d only known Jacek a short time, he meant a lot to me, had done so much for me with just his infectious smile alone. I’d seen his pain, what he’d endured at the hands of this so-called slayer, not just in his scars but in his eyes too. I would’ve done the same thing he had. No question.
I didn’t have an ounce of betrayal in me, and yet I stuck my hand out for Ronick to shake, effectively starting the slow rot of my soul. “You have yourself a deal.” The words tasted like dead slugs, but somehow I kept from gagging on them.
“If you see him or hear about him, anything at all, touch that cut on your hand and call out for Night’s Fall.” He shook my hand, and a silver luminescence zipped through my wound before it faded.
“Uh, what was that?” I asked.
He dropped my hand quickly and stepped away with a grimace as if I repulsed him. I could relate since I repulsed myself.
“Remember that letter you got when you were chosen to be the slayer?” he asked. “Well, my brother got the very same letter, laced with a truth-binding spell that prevents slayers from telling humans what you are.”
That explained why I hadn’t been able to tell Mom. These Senate people were sticklers for secrets.
A smirk twisted his mouth. “I stole a little of that spell while I was there, heightened it, and doused Night’s Fall with it.”
“What the hell?” The urge to throat punch him cracked my knuckles as I balled my hands into fists.
“We made a deal,” he said, quirking an eyebrow. “I expect you to deliver without giving me away to anyone. Or without warning anyone who knows Jacek. I will get my revenge.”
Fuck. I couldn’t even tell Jacek he was being hunted by his past. But I wouldn’t just sit back and watch this vamp murder him either. There had to be a way out of this that wouldn’t tip anyone off or alert him that I was playing for the other side.
“Fine,” I said in bored tone. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some vamps to interview so I can find a way to live another day.”
But not the three vampires I wanted to talk to now. Not about this. I was so used to spilling my guts to them without even really thinking about it. Telling them everything seemed as natural as breathing. Not doing that dug my betrayal into my skin even farther.
“Jacek’s name is the only thing you’ll be able to say about our little deal. Don’t forget to send for Night’s Fall if you find anything useful.” He brushed past me, then turned, his amber eyes gleaming. “Good luck.”
Yeah. I was going to need it.