He smelled blood on the night air. Little did he guess the danger it was about to lead him into.
Kane Durand sped through the dark city streets, moving shadow to shadow, too fast for human eyes to see. He didn't want to be here. Indeed, he was returning to this place only because he felt he owed at least a small favor to Asher Peres, a fellow vampire. Asher was one of very few vampires he counted as a friend.
Which wasn't saying much. For most of his two centuries as a vampire, Kane Durand had grown truly close to only one other of his kind: Violet. His lost lover, his claimed mate. When she had died, madness had overtaken him, and although with Asher's help he'd achieved a measure of vengeance, the excruciating sense of loss and sorrow still remained.
A claiming was supposed to be broken by vengeance, but apparently it hadn't been. That left only his own death to release him. But for some reason he clung to his existence, however unwillingly. He hadn't yet asked a vampire for mercy, although he had come close. So he was still here, and because some dregs of conscience prompted him, he was entering a city he had no desire to ever see again.
He should be in Paris, the city of his heart. Or anywhere in Europe where life felt more comfortable than this new world with all its brashness and noise.
But all those thoughts, thoughts that dogged his heels almost obsessively—a sign of a claiming—dropped into the background as he smelled blood on the air.
He was a vampire, and there was no sweeter siren call than that of fresh blood. He lifted his head, sniffing the air, locating the direction from which the enticing scent came. The park. Someone had been injured badly.
He could have just continued on his way, but the call was hard to resist, and his resistance was low these days. If nothing else, he could at least put some human out of misery. Or so he thought, trying to put a noble veneer on what was an irresistible instinct.
Even he could see some bleak humor in his own rationalization.
He slipped through the shadowy woods swiftly, the night as clear to him as day would have been to a human. A high, full moon deepened the shadows, allowing him to pass swiftly, invisible to human eyes, just another shadow among shadows. But for him, colors shone with jewel like brilliance.
The night came alive to him in ways it never would for a mortal. The movement of every leaf, the insects crawling in the grass or nibbling on leaves, he could hear all that. Even the sound of water running up inside the trunks of trees reached him with a delightful syncopated rhythm. He heard a bird's wings flutter then settled quickly.
The night sang to him.
He could hear the distant sound of a baby's cry, a couple of people who argued blocks away and even the sound of someone's private lovemaking.
Once, he had soaked up these sounds with pleasure. No more, for he had lost his capacity for pleasure. Tonight he shoved them into the background as the call of blood dominated.
He paused a few times, testing the air, smelling for humans. What he smelled gave him pause. As the delicious scent of fresh blood grew, so did another scent: the scent of his own kind.
"Putain," he said under his breath. He should clear out now. He had a message to deliver, and a face-down with some hungry vampires enjoying their meal would not serve him at all. But there was too much blood on the air, too much to be a simple feeding. What if those he had come to warn Asher about had already arrived?
Even when not concerned, a vampire tended to be very quiet, but now he heightened his senses and moved with true stealth to avoid his own kind. Trees zipped past him. He stayed off the paved paths and tasted the air frequently. Both the scent of blood and vampires grew, but the blood strengthened more quickly. Whoever had done this thing, he judged they had moved on.
He picked up his pace a bit, then saw the heat signature of a body lying on the ground amidst the trees. The sound of a too-rapid heartbeat reached him. The victim. He circled quickly, looking for others of his kind and soon detected they had moved on to the south.
He and the food were alone.
He crept toward her and what he saw appalled even him. He was no saint, and indulged in willing mortal blood without compunction. But this was not a willing donation, and the savagery of the attack on the woman lying before him shrieked unnecessary violence. She must have put up one hell of a fight and paid for it with a torn and possibly broken body.
Her heartbeat raced as her body fought to pump its diminishing blood supply to essential organs. She hovered on the brink of death, and he wondered why her attackers hadn't finished her. It would have been so easy for them to just snap her neck.
And what that said about the attackers offended him. There was no need to have been this violent or to have left the woman to die slowly. Like many hunters, he believed in clean kills. Vampires were not cats, to maul their prey. They had other ways of satisfying those urges, sexual and seductive ways that needn't lead to this kind of mess.
This group had left a message, clear on the woman's body.
He could have put an end to her suffering right then, but stayed himself. She might be just the proof he needed to convince Asher of the gravity and reality of the warning he carried.
Just as he was bending toward her, he caught an unmistakable smell on the breeze. He straightened and whirled just in time to see another vampire seeping out of the shadows toward him.
He considered, then said, "Is she yours?"
"I came back to finish her." The other vampire, short and wiry, paused. "You can finish her if you want."
Kane Durand wanted but refused to, however easy it would have been. "You were a trifle rough on her. She isn't very appealing just now."
The other shrugged and moved closer. "Four of us, and she fought. She was quite a handful. In any event, I thought by now she'd be weak enough to finish. Apparently so."
"She'll be dead soon enough."
"So finish her."
He heard the challenge, realized this was one of the rogues and he was being asked to choose a side. If he didn't finish the woman, he would be considered an enemy.
How odd, thought a detached part of his mind. A very odd conversation for two vampires to have, especially when they had never met before.
There were four of them altogether, useful information. He lifted his head, tasting the air, but could detect no others anywhere near.
"All right," he said.
It was enough to make the other relax just a bit. Enough to give him the opportunity to spring. While he had little advantage in strength, he had another advantage: years of training with the speed had made him fast, springy and, oh, so deadly when it came to one on one.
The knife was out of his pocket in an instant and buried in the other swiftly. He pulled it upward until it reached the heart. He stared into eyes gone black as night, heard the gurgle of the other's breath. Then, with no compunction whatever, he pulled the knife free, dropped it and reached for the other's head. A second later he heard the satisfying crack and the other fell dead. Dawn would take care of his remains.
Too easy, he thought. Entirely too easy. Either the other was a total fool, or he had honestly believed that any unknown vampire would not hesitate to take his leftovers. That said more about the rogues than anything he'd heard so far.
He picked up his knife, wiping it on the other's clothes, tucking it away. He froze, taking in the night air and listening. No others were about. Not yet. But he had to move fast.
Picking up the blood-soaked woman was hard. Not because she was heavy—his preternatural strength made her feel little heavier than air—nor because she was covered in blood. The difficulty came from the way the blood called to him, begging him to drink. It would have been easy, so easy, to drain this woman and walk away. In fact, nothing would have satisfied him more.
But he might need her.
Still, he hesitated. If he took her with him, she'd leave a trail as clear as neon on the night air, clear to noses that could smell it. If it crossed the path of the rogue vampires, he might have more trouble than he could handle.
With a sigh he lifted the woman higher into his arms. It wasn't as if he was attached to his existence. If this turned out to be the end, he wouldn't exactly be disappointed.
Nor would he be able to blame himself for failing to warn Asher.
Shrugging slightly, he took off through the woods effortlessly, the woman seeming light as eiderdown.
He changed one thing, though. He chose a more circuitous route to Asher's place, so that if others caught the scent on the breeze they should assume he was merely carrying away prey to a safer location.
With his arms full, he couldn't scale any buildings, so he was forced to stick with ground streets. The limitation made him edgy. He hated to feel edgy. Normally he felt so secure in his power and strength that he seldom spared his own safety a thought.
All of that was changing. The world was changing, right now, tonight. The only question was how far he wanted to involve himself in that change.
Oddly enough, he didn't know. He had been sure when he set out for Asher, but something about the savaged body in his arms filled him with doubts. As if her silent testimony to the very thing Asher was fighting made him part of the fight.
Not now, he told himself. Just get the woman to Asher as proof of what is coming. Think about the rest later.
He paused several times, checking the air, but there was no sign he was being followed. Then he noticed that the woman's heart had slowed dangerously and that she no longer leaked blood. Minutes from death probably, but still evidence.
He quickened his pace, now making a straight beeline for Asher. He didn't want to sort through his tangled feelings just then, told himself he wanted to get the woman to Asher so Asher could decide what to do with her. Save her, let her die, kill her. He didn't care.
But somewhere inside his aching, sorrowful, almost deadened heart, a voice whispered otherwise. He tried to quash it, knowing it could only cause trouble. It rose again, however, a little louder.
And the pressure of it made him run even faster.
Asher lived in his office, a place slightly below street level with the kind of security a spy agency might have envied. Because of it, he had to press the button and look into a camera.
Then he heard a familiar voice: Mackenzie, Asher's assistant. A human who had cause to loathe him.
"Well, look what the cat dragged in," her voice drawled over the speaker. Then a note of horror canceled her sarcasm. "My God, Kane, what did you do?"
Evidently she could see his burden. "Nothing but try to save this mortal. I need to see Asher now. Let me in."
He heard the sound of a buzzer. Adjusting his hold on the woman, he reached for the door and opened it.
The hallway was dark as always, out of deference to Asher's vampire eyes. Spilling from a doorway, however, was warm lamplight: the entry to the inner offices where Mackenzie ruled place when Asher wasn't there to keep her in line.
He crossed the threshold, narrowing his eyes against the sudden light, and laid the woman on the couch. He ignored Mackenzie's gasp.
He turned to look at her. "Asher," he repeated.
Mackenzie was a piece of work, and she had plenty of reasons to despise him. Just last year he had kidnaped her briefly and she'd taken it in her usual manner: with sarcastic anger.
She stood now glaring at him, her hands on her hips. Her hair was still dyed the deepest of blacks, heavy black makeup outlined her eyes, and her costume managed to bridge the territory between stripper and punks: lots of black leather and lace with black leggings that barely protected her modesty.
Sometimes Kane missed the beautiful gowns women had worn in the old days. The modern versions of fashion didn't appeal to him at all. It left too little to the imagination.
"You're not going to tell me you didn't do that," she said accusing him with a pointed finger.
"If I had done this," he said stonily, "I would not have brought her here, and certainly not still alive. Asher," he demanded again.
Mackenzie bit her scarlet-painted lower lip, the only color on her except for a blood-colored ruby ring. "He and Julie are out on a date. What do you expect him to do about her, anyway?" she demanded, waving a hand at the woman.
"I expect him to listen to a warning I have to give him. That's proof of the danger he's in."
Mackenzie's eyes widened a shade. "You better not be lying, Kane."
The man he had been before would have considered those fighting words. The man he had discovered after Violet's death couldn't deny she had a right to speak them.
"Asher, now," he repeated. "Then we can decide what to do with this mortal."
"It looks too late to me," Mackenzie muttered, but she pulled out a cell phone from a skirt so layered with black lace and net that it stuck out from her body almost like a tutu, and then pressed a button before placing it to her ear.
"Sorry, boss," she said into the receiver. "Kane is here with a woman who looks like she's been half butchered and he says you're in danger. He wants to see you now."
She ended the call and scowled at him. "You so better not be lying."
He didn't bother to argue with her or say another word. With Mackenzie, he'd swiftly learned, you could waste a lot of breath. Instead, he just glided over to an armchair and sat, folding his arms.
The outer office hadn't changed in any important way; Asher's inner sanctum still lay behind a locked door, a deceptively ordinary-looking door. He scanned his environs because it was native instinct to be aware of his surroundings, not because they interested him. He looked everywhere except at the woman on the couch.
Five minutes later, he heard the sounds of Asher and Julie coming down the hall. From the speed of his arrival, he guessed Asher must have carried Julie on his back and traveled at the top speed. Julie, clad in evening dress covered by a heavy parka, looked windblown.
As they crossed the threshold, their gazes fixed on the woman on the couch. Julie's bright blue eyes widened, and she sped across the room with a rustle of sapphire silk to kneel beside the victim. As a forensic pathologist, she was also a trained doctor.
"My God," she whispered. "She's almost dead."
"She's been almost dead since I found her."
Asher, dressed as always in elegantly tailored black beneath a long black leather coat, looked at Kane. "What happened?"
"Vampires." Kane shrugged. "I could smell them in the area. But the woman is just evidence, Asher. I came to warn you. There are those who don't like the way you drove them out of this city, who don't like your rules about not harming human. They're coming back to take vengeance; they're bringing others who feel as they do. And from what was done to that—" he waved toward the woman on the couch "—I suspect they may already be here."
"That," Mackenzie interjected sarcastically, "is a human being."
Kane shrugged. None of this was his problem, beyond delivering his warning so Asher could prepare. He had done what he set out to do, and could leave.
Except for some reason he didn't. He just kept sitting there, almost as if waiting for something.
"I should get her to the hospital," Julie said, her fingertips pressed to the woman's throat. She hadn't even yet removed her jacket. "I don't know if there's time, but she needs a transfusion, a lot of stitches, maybe even surgery, depending."
"There isn't time," Asher said with unusual gentleness. "Trust me. I sense it. She'll be gone in a couple of minutes."
Julie swore softly and settled back on her heels. "Do you know how much it goes against my grain to sit by while someone dies?"
"Do you want to try to turn her?" Asher asked. "There might be just enough time."
Julie's blue eyes fixed on him. "You'd turn a stranger, but not me?"
"She's a stranger. I love you. I don't want to make you something you might regret for eternity."
Julie simply shook her head, apparently having no retort.
Kane watched as Asher went to place a hand on his human mate's shoulder. "Trust me, Julie, this woman is better off dying. I know what it's like to be turned without a choice. Without knowing and understanding."
Kane was the last person to argue that being a vampire was good. He was suffering the torments of the damned because of a vampire trait he'd been unable to escape: claiming. The beauty of a claiming was undeniable. But so was the obsession, and the madness that followed if you lost what you had claimed. He wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even his worst enemy.
Asher turned to him, his golden eyes intent. "So they're coming after me? And you think they're already here?"
"I think this woman—" he emphasized the word for Mackenzie's benefit "—is the opening salvo, if you will."
"Do you know what their plan is?"
"A reign of terror designed to draw you out in such a way that they can terminate you."
"They could just knock on my door."
"But what fun would that be?"
Mackenzie shuddered. "I knew there was a reason I don't like most vampires."
Kane ignored her, knowing full well he was the reason she didn't like other vampires. Her liking for Asher and for his friend Soren was obvious enough. He didn't care. Mackenzie was just another human, low on his radar of importance.
"They are going to take over the city," he said. "They are either going to kill you or make it impossible for you to remain here. One way or another, they'll sabotage the authority you've been exercising in this city. They'll make sure another vampire heeds your rules."
"I'm not the only with those rules."
"True, mon ami, but this group is completely rogue and they've been whipped up by some of those you forced out of this city in the past. You're just the first target among what I suspect will be many."
Asher leaned back against Mackenzie's desk and folded his arms. "I don't have to tell you, Kane. Most of us have always tried to avoid creating situations that draw attention to our existence."
Kane nodded. "I have helped remove rogues before. A certain amount of careful coexistence is necessary. All-out war between vampires and humans would benefit neither of our kind. But that is what this group wishes."
Mackenzie spoke. "Why the hell should you care?"
Asher spoke, silencing her. "Have you never thought, Mackenzie, what would happen to my kind if there were no food left?"
Kane knew a moment of dark amusement as Mackenzie's expression changed. Evidently she didn't think of herself as a food group. But why would she when Asher restricted himself almost entirely to blood from blood banks? She probably hadn't thought about where all that blood came from.
Suddenly Julie gasped. Kane looked at her and saw her face filled with astonishment. "She's healing," she said. "My God, her wounds are closing."
Asher bent swiftly over the woman and looked. "You're right. No ordinary human." He straightened and looked at Kane. "What did you bring into my home?"
Apprehension chilled Kane, the first he had felt in a long time. Rising, he moved swiftly to look at the woman. Her clothes were still blood soaked and ripped, but he could see that her wounds had closed just since he brought her here.
"I don't know," he said. "Mon dieu, I don't know."
"Hell," said Mackenzie, who always had two cents to add. "If it's not vampire and it's not human, then what the devil is it?"
Tessa de Grey woke suddenly, knowing she wasn't alone. Worse, the first thing to assault her nose was the smell of vampires. She kept her eyes closed and tried to maintain a slow, steady rhythm in her heartbeat, even though she knew it was probably useless. Those bloodsuckers would have smelled it, heard it, the instant she awoke.
But she tried to keep up the pretense anyway, hoping against hope. She knew what had attacked. What she couldn't figure out was why she was lying on something soft instead of the hard ground, and why she smelled humans, as well.
She hurt from head to toe, but knew that would pass quickly. Despite all the things she had failed to inherit from her family, she had inherited two things: an acute sense of smell and quick healing from wounds.
She'd also inherited a loathing for bloodsuckers, one which had been amply proved in the park. Now, as near as she could tell, they held her captive. She expected no mercy from their kind.
Waiting for the instant she could no longer pretend to be unconscious, she tried to figure out how many were in the room. Listening, she was sure she heard two females and two males, though she could tell which of them were vampire and which were human. Her nose was clouded with their scents.
The presence of humans and vampires didn't shock her. She had been taught about the hypnotic effect vampires had on humans. What she didn't know was whether she was susceptible. She had, after all, been forced to resign herself to life as normal without being fully normal.
But after the attack that had nearly killed her, why would they want to keep her captive now? It didn't make sense.
"She's awake," said a deep voice.
Then she heard a rustle and smelled the odor of human come closer.
"Can you open your eyes?" a woman's gentle voice asked.
"Stand back," said the same deep voice. "We don't know what she is or how she'll react."
That gave Tessa her opening. If they were wary of her, she might be able to take advantage of it.
Instantly she sprang up into a crouch and snarled, her gaze moving from one to the other. Even as she did it, she knew how pathetic she must look, like a puppy pretending to be a full-grown wolf. But maybe it would be enough.
"It's all right," the familiar woman's voice said.
Tessa glanced at her, taking in a tiny, dark-haired beauty wearing a sapphire cocktail dress. Her expression was kind. The other woman regarded her with consternation from eyes surrounded in entirely too much makeup.
Then there were the men. In an instant she knew they were the vampires. One wore nearly tailored black and stood against a desk. The other was seated and also wore black, though he looked a bit more disheveled. And like too many vampire, they were handsome, almost as if their change transformed them into objects of dark beauty.
"We rescued you," said the blond vampire, his voice slightly accented. "I found you in the park and brought you here."
Tessa gave him another snarl. Like she was going to believe a bloodsucker?
For long seconds, no one moved. Then the elegant man with the dark hair said, "You can leave if you'd like. I'll show you the door."
She doubted that and didn't move. Besides, she hurt all over and wasn't yet sure how far she could walk. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood. She wouldn't make it far before the police stopped her, and then she'd have to make up some lie about what happened because normal absolutely didn't believe in vampires, and she didn't want to get committed.
"It's all right," the woman in blue said again, her voice remaining gentle. She moved closer and Tessa smelled vampire all over her, but also the scent of human. She might be in league with the bloodsuckers, but she was still a normal.
The woman edged onto the couch beside her, moving slowly.
"Julie," said the dark vampire warningly.
"It's all right, Asher. She's frightened. After the way she was attack, how could she be anything else?"
The woman called Julie smiled at her. "I'm Julie, and I'm a doctor. I'm both amazed and thankful at the way you healed. We though we couldn't save you."
Tessa didn't answer, choosing to reveal nothing.
"I'll give you something to wear so you can leave. I'm afraid my clothes might be a bit small on you, but at least they'll cover you so you don't have to answer questions."
Fear immediately spiked Tessa. How could this woman know she didn't want to answer questions? Then the answer came to her: she had healed too fast from nearly fatal injuries. Of course, they knew she might have something to hide.
Queasier than ever, she edged away and adjusted her crouch, ready to spring if necessary. One hand for and found her necklace, the crystal wolf's head that hung by a leather thong around her neck. It was all she had left of her old life, and her heart squeezed with relief when she realized she still had it. It had been her last gift from her mother, and she would probably never receive another. She drew a steadying breath and refaced on her enemies.
Then the blonde vampire with the faint accent spoke. "My advice would be to remain here until just before dawn. There are rogues on the streets, the ones who attacked you. You don't want to encounter them again."
Tessa finally spoke. "How do I know it wasn't you, vampire? You and your friend?"
Instantly she wished she could recall the words. She had just revealed too much, that she could tell they were bloodsuckers, and in so doing had made herself a threat to them.
"Très intéressant," said the blond one, revealing the source of his accent. "She knows what we are. So she must be able to smell us."
"I can smell you, all right," Tessa said forcefully, hoping to hold them at bay with a show of strength, however false. "Your stench fills the room."
"So you know what we are. Perhaps you can tell us what you are."
"I'm a human," Tessa said, catching herself just before she revealed more by saying she was a normal. "Can't you smell it, bloodsucker?"
He shrugged and turned his head away from her, as if losing interest. That offended her, that he considered her suck a small threat he could ignore her. Even if it was true.
The woman, Julie, reached out and touched her gently on the arm. Tessa pulled back.
"Let me explain some things," Julie said. "That man over there? That's Asher, and he's my husband. Whatever you may think about vampires, he doesn't condone what happened to you, and now I'll have to endure the anxiety while he sets out to hunt those who hurt you."
Almost in spite of herself, Tessa looked at her. "What are you talking about?"
"Asher," said the other woman, "is a bit of an avenger. He usually deals with demons, but now I'm quite sure he's going to look for the rogues who attacked you."
"Mackenzie," the dark one called Asher said in a warning tone.
"Well, it's true, boss. Besides, you're not going to be able to avoid looking for then, not with the news that Kane brought us."
Asher frowned at her but said nothing.
The blond one suddenly rose and in an instant was bent over, his face inches from hers. His black-as-ebony gaze was mesmerizing, and the only way she could fight it was to pull back as far as possible.
"She's human," he said, "but not quite. I don't care what you are, ma cocotte, but I know what you were used for. You were attacked on purpose. You are a declaration of war again Asher and any other vampire who forswears harm to humans. It was simply your misfortune to be there when they decided to make the declaration. But I will tell you this, they are still out there, still hunting to create more mayhem. Since you healed, you can now attract them one again. Especially since you reek of blood."
Her heart skittered, and she found herself wondering what to believe.
"Stay here until dawn. Then go home and stay there, because the attack on you is a mere taste of what these rogues intend to inflict on this entire city."
"Why should I believe you?"
He shrugged and drew away. "I don't care what you believe. I don't even care what you do. I did what I needed to, I brought you to Asher to prove these rogues have arrived. Beyond that..." He shrugged.
He seemed about ready to walk out the door, then he settled in the chair once again, looking angry and despairing all at once.
Tessa had to drag her gaze away, appalled that she found him so magnetic. A bloodsucker magnetic? Every fiber of her being rebelled. It came as a relief when she looked at the one called Asher and realized she didn't feel the same pull toward him. So she wasn't utterly lost.
"How about some introductions," Asher said. "I'm Asher Peres, and you're in my office. Julie already told you she'd my wife. This other lady is Mackenzie, my assistant. And that's Kane Durand, the one who brought you here and came to tell me the rogues are on the march. And you are?"
She hesitated, then decided to see where this led. They had already told her she could leave. Did they really mean it?
"Theresa de Grey," she said. "But my friends call me Tessa."
"Nice to meet you, Tessa," Asher said. The two women echoed him. Kane, on the other end, seemed to have sunk into a dark mood. He made no acknowledgment at all.
"Kane was right," Mackenzie said. "Much as I hate to admit it." She shot daggers his way, but Kane appeared oblivious. "You're safer going home at dawn. If vampires are going to fight, mere mortals don't want to be in the way."
"But why should they fight?" Tessa asked. Something was askew here and she wanted to understand it. Having been attacked once, she needed to know enough to protect herself. "You're all the same."
At that, Asher laughed. A genuine laugh. "That's about as true of us as it is of mortals. Some of us don't believe in harming humans. Others of us would rather nor control our impulses."
Mackenzie spoke again. "About seven years ago, Asher drove a group of vampires out of town because they, um...." She hesitated.
"Over indulged?" Asher suggested with heavy sarcasm.
"I guess you could call it that. And from what Kane tells us, they've come back for vengeance. They may even want to start a war between Asher's kind of vampire and the one who just take whatever they want."
"But why should you care what you do to humans?"
At the moment, Kane rejoined the conversation. "It's simple. Life is ever so much easier for us if no one believes we exist. And the only way to ensure that is never to take what we want unless it is offered freely."
This was an entirely new view of vampires, and Tessa was reluctant to swallow it whole. "So you wouldn't have attacked me the way they did?"
"Not I," said Asher, firmly.
"Nor I," said Kane, his black eyes burning. "Not unless you wanted it."
"Why would anyone want that?"
"You'd be surprised what some people want," Kane said flatly. Then he stood so quickly Tessa hardly saw him move.
"Asher, I must dine."
At once Asher straightened and led him toward the door on the wall near the couch. He punched in a code quickly on a keypad, then swiped a card. Only then did he push the door open. The two vampires disappeared inside, leaving the three women alone.
"Dine?" Tessa repeated.
No one answered her. Not a soul.
Fear shuddered through her again. Her voice smaller than she would have liked, she finally said, "I'll take those clothes."
She needed to get away. Now.