Afterlight

Part 8 Martyr

The moment I stepped foot through the back entrance of the House of Dupré, I knew Eli wasn’t there. Somehow, in all of the four-thousand-plus square feet of the historic landmark, I could sense he was gone. I tried not to let his absence bother me, but it did.

Gilles, Elise, Luc, and Josie were in the main sitting room when Phin and I walked in. I immediately noticed Jack and Tuba — two of Preacher’s great-nephews — standing near the back. Both were big guys, and they both carried several familiar pouches attached to their belts. I would bet at least one of them contained graveyard dust. I gave them a nod and greeted the Duprés.

“Welcome again, chère,” Gilles said. He looked just as aristocratic as he had the previous time, and it was weird. He seemed so genuine. A smile touched his lips, and I wished like hell I could command my thoughts instead of rambling on. He was just as bad as Eli about reading my mind.

“I would speak with you alone, if I might?” Gilles asked.

“Sure,” I said, and when he directed me to the hallway, I followed — and so did Jack and Tuba. I turned to them both and held up a hand. “Guys, seriously.”

Neither looked happy, but they stopped at the door.

“You are quite a brave young lady, Riley Poe,” Gilles said in the foyer. “My eldest son was right about you after all.”

That got my attention, but I tamped my reaction down. Way down. “Oh? And why is that?”

Gilles gave a soft, all-knowing laugh. “My dear, you do not have to hide anything from me.” He rubbed his chin and regarded me. “Not that you could. Still,” he said smiling. “I applaud your attempt.” He paced before me, his footfall tapping the parquet flooring of the foyer. “He confessed to me his actions last night.”

It takes a lot to mortify me these days. Like I’ve said — I’d experienced a million indecencies and humilities in my youth, and I thought all modesty had flown out the window. But when Gilles Dupré told me his son had confessed his actions with me? Eesh! “I hope he didn’t tell you everything,” I said.

Gilles’ blue eyes sparkled. “His mind is just as easy for me to read as yours, chère.” He inclined his head. “He’s at the isle with your dark fellows. He felt he needed a . . . rejuvenation, I suppose you would say.”

I stared incredulously. “You mean, he needed some extra hoodoo herbs in his blood?”

“Oui. And if I may be frank with you?” Gilles asked politely.

I gave a short laugh. “Of course,” I replied, as if he could be any more frank.

“Eligius nearly took your life last night, Riley Poe. He exerted more control than you could possibly comprehend by mating with you and . . . leaving you alive. That’s why he left, and why Phin is in his stead.” He cocked his head and seemed to study me, beyond my eyes and deep into my soul. “Eligius cares for you. And I know you care for him.” He moved closer and stroked my cheek with a long finger. “But when a vampire cares for another, it is . . . different. Deeper. And ’twill end badly, chère,” he said quietly, with remorse in his eyes. “Between our kind and mortals, it always does.” With that, he turned and left me alone in the foyer.

I forced myself to swallow past the hard lump in my throat, and I really didn’t know what to do next. I supposed Gilles was right. How could anything have ever worked out between Eli and me? It was the age-old reason found in every vampire romance novel, every vampire movie: The vampire would never age, and the mortal woman would grow old and die. Same old, same old. It was so cliché, but so freaking true.

“Are you ready for your first lessons?” Phin said, startling me out of my dreary thoughts.

“Absolutely,” I replied, and when he inclined his head to follow, I drew a deep breath and followed, as did Jack and Tuba.

On the top floor of the Dupré House was an enormous room, complete with a martial arts mat, kickboxing bag, boxing bag, and other apparatuses that I couldn’t identify. Luc and Josie were setting up three full-sized dummies on the mat at one end of the room. Silver throwing blades of various sizes and shapes lay on a long table at the other end.

I gave Phin a curious glance. “So my training is going to really be about becoming an expert knife thrower?” I asked.

He chuckled. “Sort of.” He glanced at me. “You’re going to have to learn how to aim, throw, and score while running, jumping, rolling, and flipping.” He grinned. “How’s that sound?”

I shrugged. “Almost as crazy as a family of vampires teaching a mortal how to kill vampires.”

His grin widened. “We’re not vampires. We’re creatures of the afterlight. We’re . . . special.”

So for the next several hours, I did a lot of watching and a lot of throwing of practice blades made of stainless steel. The pure silver blades, handcrafted in France and shipped to the House of Dupré, were to be used for the sole purpose of killing other vampires, and they were locked up.

“Okay. Your goal for the day is to simply try to hit the marks — the heart, of course — of the dummies, i.e., the Arcoses.” Luc sidled up beside me, placed a steel blade in my hand, closed his fingers over mine so that I’d grasp the short hilt, and then lifted my arm so that my hand rested directly behind my ear. “Like this,” he said. “Don’t let the blade loose until your arm is fully extended and pointing at your mark.”

“Got it,” I said, and did as he’d instructed. The blade flew across the room and landed square in the dummy’s forehead.

“Heart, Riley,” Phin said. “Aim for the heart.”

“I was,” I said, and everyone chuckled. An hour later, I finally hit the mark. I thought my arm would fall out of its socket, it was so sore.

Then Phin and Luc put me through a series of tests to gauge my existing fighting skills. That was one category where I efficiently proved myself. Of course, Phin and Luc were way stronger and faster than I’d ever be.

“You’re not even out of freaking breath,” I said, breathing hard, keeping my eyes fastened on Luc as he circled me, and waiting for the pounce.

“Cool, huh?” he said, grinning, his handsome face determinedly fixed on mine. “Vamp perk.”

I lifted a brow and inclined my head. “Where’d you get that headband?” I asked, noting the one keeping his long bangs from falling in his face. “The eighties?”

Luc’s expression darkened, and he lifted a hand to his band. “Hey, I — ”

With a wide roundhouse kick, I knocked Luc’s feet out from under him and put him right onto his ass. I followed him down and straddled his middle. While his siblings laughed, Luc graciously accepted the fact that I’d gotten the best of him, and he laid there, sprawled out, arms spread wide in submission. “Nice move, mortal,” he said, then in one breathless move leapt up, flipped me, and had me flat on my back while he straddled me. He grinned. “Don’t hate the headband.”

He jumped up, bent over, and offered a hand up. I took it, then swept his legs with one solid kick and again had Luc on the mat.

“Dude, you might as well give up,” Phin said.

Luc glanced over at me and grinned. “You know I’m just fucking with you, right?” he said. “Building your esteem.”

I laughed. “Yeah, whatever.”

He rolled and got up, and this time I did let him help me stand. I wiped the sweat from my brow.

“You’re a pretty sick fighter,” Luc said, crossing his arms over his cut, bared chest. “But let’s add a few obstacles.”

I shrugged. “Okay, whatever you want.”

Luc grinned, and it made me shudder. That made him and Phin laugh.

When it came time to add in jumps and rolls and throwing blades while running? God, I needed practice. At least it would keep me busy, and part of my brain thought that was what the whole thing was about anyway: keeping my mind off of Seth. And Eli.

The real shocker came later that afternoon. “Hey, Luc, why don’t you and Phin be moving targets?” Josie said, smiling. “I think that would be wicked cool.”

I’m not sure why it took me by surprise, but it did, and I suppose the alarm was evident on my face.

“No, seriously — it’s fine,” Luc said, and flung a practice blade directly at Phin. I watched it sink into his flesh, all the way to the hilt.

“Whoa!” I hollered when Phin pulled it from his chest, flipped it, and flung it back at Luc. Luc caught it in midair. No blood anywhere, but then vampires don’t bleed their own blood, do they?

“Totally not real silver, don’t forget,” said Josie, who sat perched on the windowsill, swinging her skinny-jean-clad legs and All Stars. “The practice blades are sharp, but fake — steel. That’s why they’re practice blades.”

I glanced at her, then at Eli’s brothers. “That makes me feel lots better.”

They all laughed.

Over the next couple of hours I worked on moving targets, and I was glad not to have a squeamish stomach. It took a little getting used to at first — flinging a sharp blade at a live being, although technically, Luc and Phin weren’t alive. I missed — a lot.

When Phin laughed at a blade that pinged off the wall, I turned to him. “It’s a hell of a lot easier hitting still dummies than moving ones.” He merely laughed again.

Practice was grueling. I had good aim, though, and a steady hand — so said Gilles as he and Elise came to watch, and eventually I hit my mark — Luc and Phin — a few times. Jack and Tuba stood near the door like a couple of bouncers and kept their gazes trained on me. Big and silent, they were in fact intimidating. I’m not convinced they’d be a match for the Duprés, though I’d never confess that to Preacher. Maybe there was a lot more to Gullah magic than I originally thought. Rather, Preacher’s sort of magic. He and his family were definitely unconventional Gullah.

The last of my first practice day consisted of Luc and Phin tag teaming me while I threw. One would be the moving target; the other would come after me.

I started running from the back of the room, Luc and Phin flanking me. I aimed my practice blade at Luc and threw, then kept my eyes trained on Phin as he lunged toward me. I ducked, rolled, and hit my feet running, but he was too fast. His body full-impact hit me, and I landed on the mat with a heavy thud. His eyes twinkled down at me with victory. “This is the most fun I’ve had in a hundred years,” he said with a smirk.

“Get off me,” I said, struggling to breathe.

“Again,” Luc said.

I groaned.

I hit the mat so many times, I lost count. It was a hard workout for me, effortless for the Duprés. They’d crammed all the lessons into one day. Apparently I’d be doing the same every day from here on out. I could barely wait.

I jogged home from Monterey Square, Phin beside me, and dusk was just approaching. A slight breeze now shifted the moss hanging from the oaks, and I dodged tourists as they window-shopped the myriad antique and specialty stores lining the historic district. We jogged past a walking ghost tour, the tour guide dressed in Colonial wear and swinging a lantern, flashes from the tourists’ digital cameras lighting the darkness as they aimed at various structures. As I ran by, I noticed a horse-drawn carriage with a couple snuggled together, and the woman in the carriage glanced down and smiled at me. The first thought that crossed my mind was, You have no freaking clue what’s really out there, do you? How cynical I’d become. Phin chuckled.

After a quick shower, I quickly ate a can of SpaghettiOs and changed into something Phin suggested: comfortable, movable clothes. I wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but I took no chances: a pair of baggy jeans that sat below my hips, a black ribbed tank, and a pair of well-worn Vans. I pulled my hair into a high ponytail, slipped on a belt to keep my baggy pants from falling around my knees, and was ready to go. At least, I thought I was. I was learning real fast to always expect the unexpected. I popped four ibuprofen tabs to keep away the soreness I knew my body would be experiencing — was already starting to feel — from the Dupré workout. It was well after dark when we left, and Luc as well as Josie joined us.

For the first hour, we simply mingled in the streets with the tourists. Sunday nights were typically slower than the rest of the week, but there were still a good handful who stepped out into the historic district to wallow in Savannah’s atmosphere. I found myself obsessively searching for a crowd of delinquents wearing dark hoodies but never caught the first sight of them. We hit all the main squares, walked Broughton Street east and west, and even strolled through Starbucks. Mullet was in there with his übertall girlfriend, and I spoke to them for just a few seconds before leaving.

It was nearly midnight when we found ourselves in a small alley two blocks over from the Panic Room, and that was when I caught sight of them. Huddled together, they knelt on the sidewalk next to a streetlamp, completely engrossed in . . . something on the ground. Phin grabbed my arm as I moved forward.

“No way, Riley,” Phin said, and we all fell into the shadows. “Watch, not approach, or don’t you remember the other night?”

I glanced at him. “Yeah, I remember.” Todd could have killed me.

“They grow stronger every day,” Josie said beside me. “And Seth doesn’t know you anymore.”

I’d already known it — Eli had said as much. But somehow it hit harder now, and it hurt. An ache spread through my chest at the thought of my brother not knowing me. I studied each of the boys and couldn’t determine which one was Seth.

Just then, one of the boys shifted, and I saw all too clearly what they were so intrigued by: a body. By the size of the chunky black boots I estimated a male; I couldn’t tell whether he was dead. My stomach lurched at the thought, and I wanted to react. No way in hell was I going to sit by and watch as my brother sucked the blood of some dude lying on a dirty sidewalk. I moved, and a hand abruptly stopped me.

“We can’t drink the blood of the dead,” Phin said, grasping me with a steely grip. “It’s lethal for us. That’s why they use dope.”

“To sedate and subdue,” Josie said flatly.

I felt my face lose what little color it had. “Will they kill him?” I asked, afraid of the answer.

“No,” Luc said. “They can’t make their first kill until the quickening is complete.”

“They’ll take him back to the Arcoses, and they’ll kill him,” Josie offered.

In the next instant, I shifted — barely a movement, from one foot to the other — and one of the boys heard. Several hoodies glanced my way, but one in particular had enough light from the streetlamp illuminating his face for me to get a good look. Seth’s extraordinarily pale face and lightened eyes stared hard at me; blood was running from the side of his mouth. I reacted — I lunged. And Seth lunged back, both of us at the same instant. He was close enough now that I could see the depth of his eyes: crazed, unfamiliar, incoherent — nothing at all remained of the loving, sweet brother he once was. The others stood, glaring; the energy around us snapped, and I knew they were ready to pounce.

“Shit — get her out of here!” Phin yelled, and Josie grabbed me and yanked so hard I thought my arm had popped the socket. She all but dragged me away, and behind us I could hear the fight that had started. We ran — hard — I had no choice, really. It was run or be dragged. I followed Eli’s sister and rolled beneath a red-tip shrub and into a neighboring yard. The grass was damp and cool with dew, prickly and stiff. We both jumped up, crossed the lane, and started running.

“You have to go back and help them,” I said breathlessly. “I’ll go straight home — promise. But seven against two are bad odds — even for a vampire.”

Josie stopped and stared hard at me. “Promise?” she asked, then frowned. “Swear it.”

I nodded. “Swear it. Now, go,” I said.

She watched me for a split second longer, gauging her trust of me, no doubt, then took off. I ran in the other direction, toward home. While my gut told me to stay and fight, my brain told me to get the hell out — I was nowhere near capable of handling myself against a newling — much less a group of newlings. It ate at me to run away — it just wasn’t in my nature. But all three Duprés together could fight off Riggs and the others, and my being there would be a total and possibly lethal distraction — to both parties. As I ran hard and fast beneath the streetlamps, my Vans pounding the paved sidewalk, I prayed the Duprés wouldn’t accidentally hurt my brother.

I turned at the intersection at Martin Luther King and ran up River Street, the lights and activity at the west end not nearly as heavy as at the east end, but I’d get there soon enough. I hurried up the cobbles, the old Atlantic Paper Company on my left, then past the Hyatt. I crossed over to the river walk, slowing now to a jog. I glanced over my shoulder and didn’t see any hoodies, so I began to walk, out of breath. I couldn’t help but wonder who the victim on the ground was; I’m glad I hadn’t seen his face. I knew I’d never rid my mind of Seth’s pale skin, with blood dripping off his chin; it was too horrific. I felt like screaming at the top of my lungs; I felt like hitting something — I felt sick to my stomach. I started to run again — ran hard. Very few people were out on a Sunday night at midnight — even on River Street, and I had free rein on the walk. I jumped over the short wall barrier and headed to the river. At the section across from Inksomnia, I stopped, leaned over the rail, and threw up. Never, ever would I forget what my brother had looked like, what he’d unknowingly done. I hated this. I hated all of this.

I stood there grasping the metal railing, breathing hard. The night air was stagnant, the low tide making the scent of the marsh pungent, and the shoals of oysters bubbled and popped across the river from Dafuski Island. The mosquitoes were out in armies, and I slapped my neck as they bit. Damn, I hated mosquitoes. I pushed off the rail and turned to go inside — but gasped and jerked to a halt as I stared straight into the vacant, opaque eyes of my brother.

I stood frozen in place; my eyes widened and my insides quivered as I stared at Seth. I hated being afraid of my brother, but I was. He almost looked dead, with his skin so pale and translucent, his eyes a completely different shade of green — nearly white now — and his lips a darkish blue. Dried blood streaked his chin. His nostrils flared as his gaze settled on the side of my throat, at my carotid, and I took a step back. With a sound emanating from his throat that no longer sounded human, he moved slowly toward me. Again, I froze, and he stopped. I know he didn’t recognize me, and was pretty sure he’d followed only because he’d caught sight of me. Josie and the others had said more than once Seth wouldn’t remember me or his previous life. Had she been wrong?

The air tensed around us; Seth and I were both on edge and about to lunge — I could feel it. I slowly eased back a few more steps, until my flesh grazed the rail, and my hands followed, encircling the metal in a tight grip. “Seth,” I said quietly, steadily, my eyes directly on his; hopefully he would concentrate on my face and not my hand movement. I was going to freaking jump in the river if I had to, despite the bull sharks that patrolled the waterways — another thing not mentioned in the tourist mags and brochures. I inhaled slowly, and even that slight movement was noticed by my brother. He flinched and jumped at me. “Seth!” I said, louder, and he jerked as though he’d been struck. His chest rose and fell rapidly, faster than human, and his Adam’s apple bobbed unnaturally — like he was swallowing something rapid-fire, over and over.

Then his face drew taut and his eyes widened, and in the next second, he lunged for me. In the same breath I threw my legs over the handrail, and before I could drop, Seth’s body just . . . stopped coming at me. I tightened my grasp and held on to the railing, suspended, until my hands started to sweat and my fingers grew cold and numb. Nothing happened. I had no idea whether he stood there, waiting, or . . . what? No more than thirty seconds passed, and I’d decided a swim with the bull sharks was going to be my finale for the night. Then Phin’s face appeared over the rail, and he reached down with one hand, grasped one of mine, and effortlessly hauled me back over. “Riley — what the hell are you doing?” he asked.

I looked at him, then looked around. “What’d you do with my brother?” I asked, ignoring his question, still scared but trying to shake it off.

In the lamplight, Phin’s flawless pale face, chiseled features accented by the light dusting of scruff on his jaw, all but glowed. Even though he had different colored hair he looked a lot like Eli. He cocked his head. “What are you talking about?”

I glanced up the river walk, toward the west end. I saw nothing. “I left Josie and ran here, stopped, and barfed over the railing.” I looked at Phin. “When I turned around, Seth was right behind me.” I met his gaze. “He knew me, Phin. I could see it.”

Phin’s face turned hard. “In his opaque eyes, you mean? He didn’t recognize you, Riley. Not this far into his quickening.” He shook his head. “No way.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, glanced upward at the more than half-circle moon that slipped in and out of misty clouds, and sighed. “He did. He lunged at me, and when I called his name” — I looked at him — “he flinched. He stopped when he didn’t have to.”

Phin rubbed his neck. “Then, where’d he go?”

Glancing at the place where Seth had just stood, I shrugged. “He lunged for me, I threw my legs over the railing, and he just . . . disappeared.” I stared up both ends of River Street. “What about the guy? Back in the alley?”

Shaking his head, Phin grasped my elbow. “Don’t dwell on it, Riley. They took him, probably to the Arcoses. Come on, let’s go,” he said, then mumbled something French beneath his breath. “Eli would kick my ass if he knew I let you off alone,” he said to himself, but I’d clearly heard.

We crossed the cobbles and old trolley rails, gained the sidewalk, and walked to the narrow alley next to my building. “Why’s that?” I asked. I knew it was fake coy, but I didn’t care. I wanted to hear it. We climbed the steep concrete steps to Factor’s Walk, and Phin gave me a sly look.

“He just would,” he answered, and continued to look at me with curiosity. “Why’d you barf?” I looked at him, and he held up a hand. “Ah — never mind.”

“Right,” I said, and fished the key out of my pocket as we mounted the top of the steps and turned down the merchant’s drive. The moment we reached my back door, images of Eli kissing me hard against that very door raged through my mind, and so did everything that followed: his hands, his mouth, his body inside of mine — it overwhelmed me. I found it beyond weird to think I’d known Eli for such a short time. It seemed like years. I wasn’t a virgin; I’d had sex before. That night with Eli wasn’t sex. It was something else that to me had no name, no origin, and obviously something I’d never experienced before — probably never would again. I accepted it as that and pushed everything else out of my brain.

Chaz barked as soon as he heard me push the key in the lock; he had to go out. Grabbing his leash, we walked him for a few, then headed inside for the rest of the night. I made a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, and Phin sat on the counter while I ate.

“My father says you’ll need to close your business for the last week of the quickening,” he announced. “I was supposed to tell you earlier, but I forgot.”

I stared, midbite. “No way.” I bit, then continued to chew. “I’ll take off, but Nyx can run the shop. This is high season for me, and unlike you, I didn’t come from money.”

Phin smiled. “I confess — that is a pretty sweet deal. But Papa made us each invest — even Josie. We all have our own money.” He smiled. “Microsoft.”

“Do you have a social security card? Driver’s license?” I asked, and took another bite. I chased it with a long gulp of milk from the carton and regarded him. “Insurance on your bike?”

He grinned. “Of course,” he said. “We pay taxes, too.”

I shook my head and rinsed my plate in the sink. “I don’t even want to know how you manage that.”

Phin just chuckled, hopped off the counter, and flopped onto the sofa. To look at him, or Luc, you’d think they were just a couple of hot young guys without a care in the world. But I’d seen them in action. They were tough-asses to the max.

“Pretty impressive fighting today,” he said as I walked from the room. “Sincerely.”

I turned and grinned. “Yeah? You too, Dupré. Night.”

Phin laughed a total guy laugh, said good night, and flipped on the TV.

I had to constantly remind myself that he used to suck the blood out of innocent humans.

After a shower, I left my hair wet, wadded it up high on my head, and wrapped a band around it to keep it in place. I pulled on a cami and a pair of black boy shorts, and sighed. I was sore and exhausted; my mind whirled around seeing my baby brother in his quickening state, and wanting — needing — Eli. It’d shocked me to learn he’d gone to Da Island to get rejuvenated — whatever that exactly meant. It had taken a lot of control for him to walk away from me, and Gilles’ words, or warning, felt heavy in my head. ’Twill end badly, chère. Between our kind and mortals, it always does. I crawled into bed, glanced at my closed French doors, and drifted off to sleep with Gilles’ words still ringing in my ears.

In my slumber, another dream claimed my consciousness, and I found myself in a dark, hazy underground club — I didn’t recognize it, nor did I recognize the patrons. Was it a masquerade party? Halloween? Themed? Everyone was dressed in modified Victorian garb; women’s gowns dipped exceedingly low, revealing heaving breasts and nipples, and slits up the front and back of their flowing skirts exposed their nakedness when they moved. The young men wore dress velvet coats with tails and ruffles, their pants laced in the front but with laces loose and mostly undone; some openly groped themselves as they sucked an exposed breast. A themed orgy? An odd mixture of music played, one of Gregorian monks chanting and the ancient strings of a harpsichord. I glanced down at myself and noticed that I wore the same as the others; my breasts and nipples were also exposed, and I had no panties beneath my skirts. No one seemed to notice me, and I eased away from the corner I was standing in and moved along the edges of the crowd, seeking an exit, covering myself with my arms folded over my chest. I had no idea why I was there, only that I wanted to escape.

Then he was suddenly blocking my path; I knew I’d seen him before but didn’t know his name. He was not Eli. A black-haired woman was at his side, her face hidden in his shoulder, her fingers entwined in the laces of his breeches, fondling. The man was flawless and beautiful; his gaze raked over my body, and wherever it lingered, my skin burned, tingled with desire. His hand lifted to the woman beside him, and he grazed a thumb over her hardened nipple; I felt it and gasped with pleasure. A smile tipped his sensual mouth, and he leaned to the woman and whispered; I heard it. He said, “Stroke me.” The woman’s hand slipped inside his breeches and palmed him, moving slightly up, then down; I felt it, too, hard and sleek in my hand. His gaze never left mine, and I hated how excited he made me. I wanted to escape; I was powerless to move. He whispered to the woman, “Taste me.” With her back to me she knelt before him, freed him, pulled it into her mouth; I felt it in mine, and I grew wet between my legs as I watched her head bob against him. He stared at me with a gaze so intense and powerful, I hadn’t the ability to move, and he smiled seductively at me, and whispered, “You look good enough to fuck,” and then licked his lips, sending me into a breathless orgasm; then his eyes rolled back as he found his. I hated him; I wanted to be closer to him. It was then that the woman shifted, exposing a piece of bared back. At the same time I recognized my dragon tattoo, she turned and looked at me, smiling as she delicately wiped her mouth with the tip of her finger. The woman was me. All of the other patrons stopped their orgy at once to look at me. I blinked, and their faces contorted into those of monsters, their teeth jagged and gnashing from unhinged, exaggerated jaws, and they lunged at me. Terror gripped me, and I began to run, faster, and everything became barren and bleak. And suddenly I was no longer at a Victorian orgy but in a heavily wooded forest filled with long shadows and darkness. I was being hunted. . . .

“Riley!”

As my name being said out loud made it through the webby edges of the dream, I gasped and lunged forward, and steely hands were there to catch me. My heart pounded mercilessly, and I was breathless, grasping onto . . . someone. At first, I thought it was Eli. It was still dark, but I soon realized it was Phin.

“Whoa,” Phin said, trying to comfort me by patting my back. “Slow down, girl. What’s wrong with you? You’re gonna have a freaking heart attack.” He pulled the sheet that I’d kicked out of to cover up my lower half.

“Bad dream,” I said, and suddenly felt a wash of weakness overcome me. I fell back onto my pillow. It was just like before — I had no energy.

“Tell me about it,” he said. “It always helps.”

“Thanks,” I said, my heart slowing, and I closed my eyes. “But you don’t wanna know.” I didn’t even want to know, but unfortunately I did. I remembered it all. And it was freaky-weird. Who was that guy? I wasn’t into orgies, and I’d never been to one. Why in hell would I not only dream of one, but get off from it? Nasty, Poe. Just freaking nasty.

“You need to sleep with this shut and locked,” Phin said, and when I looked he’d moved and was closing the French doors.

“I closed and locked those before I went to sleep,” I told him, and he looked skeptically at me. “Swear to God.”

Phin latched the doors and sat at the foot of my bed, rubbing his neck. “That,” he said, “is not good.” He cocked his head. “What was the dream about, Riley?”

I cracked my eyes and looked at him in the shadowy light.

“Don’t make me go in there and get the info myself,” he said, pointing to my head.

I sighed. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. It’s freaky. And it’s not the first one I’ve had.” When he lifted a brow, I continued. “They’re just . . . weird sexual dreams. Ones where an amazingly hot guy can make me . . . you know?” Phin lifted the other brow up. “Yeah, that. Well, he can do that without touching me.” I put my hands over my eyes. “God, Phin — do I really have to give any more detail?” I wasn’t shy, but some things were personal. “I don’t think a porn dream is something you need to know about.”

He stroked his chin. “Uh, yeah. I think you should tell me every sordid detail of both dreams. Don’t leave anything out. Sincerely.” He leaned forward like a freaking psychiatrist, imaginary notepad and pen in hand. He gave a slight nod. “You may begin.”

I threw a pillow at him. “Get out of my room, pervert. I need more sleep.”

He regarded me, then rose and left the room. “I’ll be in here if you need me.” I heard him chuckling at himself in the living room. A vampire with a sense of humor. Sweet.

The rest of the night went by without incident; no more funky erotic dreams, no further opening of locked doors, and so on, and I carried on my usual Monday-morning routine. Nyx was hopping around like a little prairie dog when Phin and I walked in to Inksomnia, and she wanted an update on Seth.

Nyx pulled me into a tight, squeezing hug, then looked at me. “Riley, how much longer does Seth have to be out there?” she asked, and guilt gnawed at me for telling my best friend a lie. She adored Seth, and I knew she was going through a tough time with his supposed drug rehabilitation. If she knew what was really happening — no, she’d never be able to handle it. Not Nyx. I met her gaze with what I hoped was a reassuring one. “He’ll be home soon, Nyx. We don’t want him flying through rehab and getting out too early, do we?” I hugged her back. “Trust me — I want this to be his last terrible experience. And that’s why I’m going out to Da Island to be with him.”

Nyx’s eyes widened. “When?”

“In a couple of days. I need to call and reschedule several appointments today.” I looked at her and cocked my head. “Can you handle the shop alone? Oh — and would you take Chaz? If it’s a problem, then Estelle and Preacher — ”

Nyx gave me her signature thumbs-up. “Of course I will, on all accounts! No prob.” She smiled, talking with her hands as she did when excited. “I’m glad to see you’re going to be with your little man. He needs you now more than ever.”

I sighed. It wouldn’t be the first time, unfortunately. “I really miss him.”

“I know,” she said, then smiled through her worry. “So do I. And you’re doing the right thing.” She began to set up. “So where’s Eli?”

I shrugged, but inside my gut wrenched at the sound of his name. “He’s around. Maybe he’ll drop in soon. Until then,” I said, distracting her from Eli, “how ’bout showing his brother the ropes? They’ve all sort of taken an interest.”

“Sure!” she said, and waved Phin toward her. “Come on. There’s a lot to learn about . . . ink!”

The day progressed more slowly than any I’d experienced over the past couple of weeks. I made tons of calls to clients to reschedule inking appointments for the following two weeks, and only one out of twenty-two decided to use another artist. I spent the rest of the day ordering Nyx enough stock so she wouldn’t have to handle it and the ink jobs. Plus I did a few inks myself, and I tried to put my personal hell aside long enough to do good-quality artwork. It wasn’t easy, but I managed it. Inksomnia had been my passion, my savior after I’d managed to get a decent life going once Preacher and his family scoured the drugs and idiocy from my system. Now? My heart just wasn’t into it. Knowing Seth was experiencing some freakish ancient vampiric quickening and fast turning into a vicious killer sort of put a hold on the rest of my life. I loved that kid more than anything, and I would die to make things right again.

At six o’clock, Nyx flipped on the flat screen in the sitting area; she always wanted to find out what was happening in the low country. Me? Too depressing, so I avoided it. Until today, when the desperate plea of a woman’s voice blasted across the shop. I crossed the room and watched with Nyx, and my heart dropped.

“Please,” the woman sobbed, and sagged against a man — I assumed her husband. “If anyone has seen Jared, please — I . . . just want my son back.” The camera flashed to the reporter, who described Jared Porter as sixteen years old, five feet seven inches, approximately one hundred and forty pounds, with short blond hair and brown eyes. A picture of him flashed across the Crime Stoppers screen, and my insides went icy. Jared had been missing now for almost a week and was last seen around eleven p.m. leaving River Street with his friends.

“That poor mother,” Nyx said, shaking her head. “It must be so awful.”

I had no doubt that Jared Porter had joined Seth and the others. It made me angry and more determined than ever to bring those bastards down.

Nyx helped me close shop, then headed out to Wilmington Island to have dinner with her parents. Luc and Josie had come in just as Phin and I headed upstairs. I quickly showered and dressed — this time with Josie digging through my closet. She reminded me of a little sister, and I had to give it to the kid — she had rockin’ taste. She pulled out a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a black tank with a spiderweb tattoo design on the back.

“Sweet,” she said, and handed them both to me. “I wish I could go,” she said, pouting. She pulled my hair into a funky half-up, half-down sort of do, with my bangs long and free. “But Papa said I should just let the boys go with you for now.” She looked at me, her brows pulled together. She glanced at my chest, then back to me. “I wish I’d been a little older when Papa changed me.” She looked down at herself. “I’ll never have boobs like you. I’m flat chested forever. It sucks.”

I smiled. “I know it seems like it sucks,” I said, and then flushed when I remembered Eli’s words. I inclined my head. “But boobs are more trouble than they’re worth sometimes anyway. I have a hard time fitting into clothes sometimes. Pain in the ass.” I grinned. “Tell ya what. Why don’t you pick out a choker? I’ve got a hundred of them.”

“Cool, thanks!” she said, and dove back into the plundering. “Any of them?”

“Sure,” I said, then grabbed my navy All Stars and headed into the living room. “Ready?” I said to Luc and Phin, both standing near the window looking out. They turned, and I gotta say — it’s one thing when you get a reaction from a regular dude that they think you look hot. It’s another experience altogether when it’s a pair of century-plus-old vampires ogling. I shamelessly confess to liking the ego being boosted a little.

“Damn, Riley,” Luc said, looking more like a wolf than a vamp.

“Double damn,” said Phin, and he grinned at me. He was remembering my dreams, although I never did go into detail. I didn’t have to. I’m sure he slipped into my thoughts. I could so tell.

I shook my head. “Pervs. It’s just jeans and a tank. Let’s go. And I’m driving.” I glanced at them both appreciatively. Luc had on a pair of frayed jeans and a black formfitting tee with black boots. Phin wore a pair of black slim-fit jeans with a chain hanging from the pocket, a pair of black All Stars, and a gray long-sleeved mesh shirt. “Pretty hot yourselves, by the way,” I said, and headed to the door. I scrubbed Chaz on the head — Josie had taken him out earlier — and the Duprés followed me out.

We dropped Josie off in front of the Dupré House and made our way over to Martin Luther King. The plan was to hit the Panic Room, followed by a trip to the Morgue — another dark alternative club. If there was time, we’d hit one more: the Asylum. God, I hadn’t gone to any of those in quite a while. But Seth and the others would be hanging around the darker clubs for — I hated to say it — victims. So I had to put my fears aside despite my reservations. It hadn’t been easy giving them up, but once I had, I was done. I’d figured that if I was going to get clean and straighten my life out, and give Seth a good life, then I needed to cut clean of all things that would be a temptation to me. Now, some people, like Mullet? They went for the sheer fun of loud, head-bangin’ music, dance, and drink. I’d started out that way, but I became something else — a big-time clubber, long before reaching legal age, who couldn’t assert self-control. I didn’t even have the desire to go anymore. Weird.

The night air whisked through my opened Jeep as we cruised up Martin Luther King and turned down Williamson. I parked a street over, closer to the River Street side, and we got out. Much to the surprise of both Duprés, I tucked some bills into my bra, and my Jeep key in my pocket. I then gave Luc and Phin a heads-up on Zetty.

Just before we got to the entrance, Phin stopped me. His look was grave. “Preacher told us about, you know — when you were young. If it gets too much in here for you, just say the word.”

I gave Phin a smile. He really was one considerate vampire. “No prob. That habit left my body once the Gullah washed it out of me. But thanks for some good lookin’ out.”

Zetty greeted me the same as the other night, and greeted Luc and Phin with his hand resting on his trusty traditional Tibetan blade. His eyes followed us all the way inside.

Luc and Phin simply looked at each other and shrugged.

The moment we pushed through the doors, “Bad Company” by Five Finger Death Punch was pounding through the surround sound, and the familiar, sickening scent of smoke and liquor tinged with body sweat and pot hit us in the face. I knew Kelter would find me. It was like he could smell me, which really freaked me out. Luc went to the bar to order me a drink, while Phin and I melded into the throng of people dancing — or doing whatever it was they were doing.

I moved to the music, and Phin stayed close. I leaned in. “Pretty good moves for an old guy,” I said in his ear, and he laughed. While he seemed to be a free-willed young dude dancing with a crazy chick, I knew how serious he was taking this issue with the Arcoses. While he laughed, his gaze raked the crowds, searching for any of the boys with Riggs and Seth. Every once in a while I caught a glimpse of something dark in his eyes that was . . . beyond frightening. I’d seen it in Eli’s eyes, too. They were not to be underestimated. That much I knew.

We danced for a few more minutes, then made our way to the bar. “We’re going to leave you alone, but we’ll be close,” Phin said. “All you have to do is think me to you, and I’ll come.” I nodded, and he and Luc moved away. The black walls and strobe lights made the inside of the Panic Room surreal and dreamlike, and to me it was no surprise how so many people lost themselves. It wasn’t the club’s fault — the music rocked, and people drank in clubs every day and didn’t get screwed up. It was the fault of scumbags like Kelter, who added that little extra something that made innocent lives go to straight to hell, becoming completely submerged in the darkest dregs.

After almost forty minutes, there were no signs of Riggs, Seth, or any of the other boys, and Kelter hadn’t shown up. I decided to take a walk to the back of the club to see whether I noticed anything unusual. I eased away from the bar and moved into the crowd.

If I’d had a buck for every stray hand that felt my ass in the four minutes it took me to get to the horseshoe, I’d be filthy rich. But to find the body those hands belonged to would have taken a CSI team. Everyone looked as guilty as hell. Freaky-guilty, male and female alike. So I squelched my desire to knock the hell out of every potential ass grabber and hurried through the crowd. Once in the horseshoe, I made a beeline for the office doors, weaving through a line at the women’s restroom and the usual couples pawing each other against the wall. I tried the doors, found them locked, and turned to leave but stopped abruptly. A girl stood directly behind me. Almost as tall as me, with platinum blond hair streaked with black and purple that hung to her waist, and dressed head to toe in black leather, she glared at me with kohl-rimmed eyes. She was maybe all of eighteen.

“If you’re looking for Kelter, he’s not here,” she said sharply, and inspected me critically from the tips of my boots to the top of my head. Disgust crossed her face. “I saw you here the other night with him,” she said, and lifted a cigarette to her lips and pulled. She blew smoke in my face and leaned close. “Back off, whore,” she whispered, and her breath smelled like stale beer and cigarettes. “Kelter’s mine.”

I nearly choked. Not on the smoke but because I couldn’t believe that anyone would purposely want Kelter Phillips. It was freaking hilarious. I gave her a slight grin, although I really felt sorry for her. “Don’t worry — I don’t want him anyway.” I pushed past her and left, and I found I couldn’t get out of the Panic Room fast enough. Her eyes shot daggers at me the whole way out — I could feel them ricocheting off my back.

Phin and Luc met me in the middle and guided me to the exit. Zetty stared at me as we left and gave me a single nod. He held the door as we passed through, and closed it firmly behind us.

“Cheerful dude,” Luc said. “No gains there tonight. On to our next destination.”

Outside, the air had grown heavy, muggier than earlier, and very, very still. We climbed into the Jeep and pulled out onto MLK. “The Morgue,” I supplied, and within fifteen minutes we were pulling into the parking garage on Drayton and walking down the narrow alleyway to the entrance. Again — this wasn’t the sort of place listed under “Nightlife” in the travel brochures for Savannah. Inside, the Morgue was home to a rougher class of partiers; gangs that liked to call themselves Vamp-Goths dominated the club, male and female alike, and only the nonsqueamish, extremely confident — or crazy — dared make an entrance. I knew some of them, and they were pretty freaking cool — I had probably inked most of them. Others were just wannabes, dressing the part and making a lot of noise to get attention. I couldn’t help but wonder whether any of them really believed vampires truly existed. Or was it just the idea? The portrayal? If they did, I’d bet my ink shop none of them thought they were anything like the Duprés.

Unlike the Panic Room, the Morgue was under new ownership; it prevented me from having an in — and part of me felt thankful. One Kelter was all I could handle. I suppose I didn’t need an in anyway. The club was dark and thumping. I stepped through a veil of smoke and moved through the crowd to a vacant spot near the wall. Phin rounded on me and lowered his head to my ear.

“We’ll spread out and see if we spot any of the hoodies,” he said. “Let’s give it forty minutes, tops. Then we’re out.” The look he gave me was grave. “If you need me, just think it.”

“Right,” I said, and watched the Dupré brothers split up and disappear into the crowd. For a Monday night, it was a heavy mix. People were jammed into the Morgue like sardines, and as I edged the perimeter I scanned the clubbers and began to weave into the center. The dark interior and flashing lights made it pretty difficult to see any sort of distance, so I moved in and out of the dancers and fought off several groping hands, my sights set on the opposite side of the club. A hand to my crotch — yes, my crotch — stopped me abruptly, and I reacted. I grabbed the wrist taking privileges and yanked upward, and I separated the offender from the tightly knit group of people around me. A young guy, maybe nineteen or twenty, with burred black-dyed hair and a silver mesh sleeveless shirt stared at me with cold, almost black eyes. The side of his neck was inked with a massive wad of barbed wire; in the center was a naked woman, clinging to the wire, a look of terror — or ecstasy, I couldn’t tell which — on her face. It was a shoddy art job, in my opinion.

The guy pushed toward me, his face close. “I know what you want,” he said in what he probably thought was a seductive, turn-me-on, throaty voice.

I dropped his arm. “I doubt it,” I said, and turned away. “Freaking perv.”

From behind, he pressed into me and grabbed my hips to hold me in place.

“I mean, I know who you’re looking for,” he said against my ear, and then a hot wetness crept over my lobe as he licked it.

I stopped and looked at him over my shoulder. “Is that right?” I said, repulsed but hiding it. “And what exactly do you know?” Maybe he’d seen Seth or one of the boys. It was worth checking out.

“This way, babe,” he said, and nudged me forward through the crowd; the whole time, his hands stayed gripping my hips. “Hands off,” I growled, and he laughed but removed his hands. As we moved, I continued to search faces, but no one seemed familiar — not even Phin or Luc appeared. Finally, we broke free, and when we did the guy totally took me off guard and shoved me against the exit door. In the next second he was pressed against me and we were falling through the door, into the alley. With a heavily booted foot he kicked the door closed behind us and was on me, my front slammed into the bumpy painted concrete of the building, and this guy was grinding his hard crotch against me, mouth buried against my neck, one hand feeling my breasts, the other one groping my crotch. “It’s me you’re lookin’ for, right?” he said, grunting in my ear.

Oh, Poe. You dumbass.

“Wrong,” I ground out, and he merely laughed. He had me pinned pretty good, but I was a tall girl, strong and athletic; I pulled my legs up while he sucked on my neck, wedged the balls of my feet against the wall, and pushed hard. We both fell back, and I leapt up. Before he could get off his ass, I’d kicked him in the jaw, and his head jerked back; he spit blood from his mouth. “Bitch,” he growled, and spit again. “Stupid bitch.”

Adrenaline must have kicked in, because he jumped up like a cat and lunged for me. He never made it. A figure moved so fast from the shadows and grabbed him by the throat that my brain hardly had time to process it. I watched the perv’s body fly against the Dumpster and hit with a heavy thud. In the next second, Eli emerged from the darkness, his face a mask of fury, his eyes lightened but not yet opaque. He moved closer but did not touch me.

“What the hell are you doing, Riley?” he said, his voice dark, angered, shaking with rage. “What?” Those light eyes regarded me, held me captive. I couldn’t have looked away if I’d tried. Thankfully, he did. He grasped his neck with both hands and looked skyward. “Tu me fais mourir,” he muttered in French, and of course I had no idea what it meant. “You’re killing me,” he clarified, and then drew a deep breath and looked at me. “You. Are. Freaking. Killing. Me.”

I glanced toward the Dumpster. The perv hadn’t budged. “You didn’t kill him, did you?” I asked.

Eli’s face became even more infuriated. “No. But I should.”

I would be lying if I said my heart wasn’t soaring at seeing Eli. It’d only been two days, but it’d felt like forever. Pretty mushy coming from me, and I can promise you — it took some getting used to. I didn’t want to care about him. It made zero sense and made everything much more complicated — especially since Gilles had pretty much given me fair warning to back off.

“He did what?” Eli asked, moving closer.

I turned my back and headed for the door. “Oh my God, Eli — stay out of my head.” No sooner did my hand grasp the metal than Eli was behind me, stopping me, and the memory of our night together, with him crowding my body like he was now, made my head swim, my senses heightened. My heart raced at the thought of him touching me, and my breath quickened at how he had touched me. I didn’t dare move.

“I’m sorry I left, Riley,” he said, close to my ear. “I had no choice.”

I made myself breathe, and steady my voice. “Yeah. I know.”

Just then, Phin entered the alley from the street side; he cast a quick glance at the guy lying against the yellow Dumpster and stared at me. “Why didn’t you call me?”

I shrugged. “I had it. Besides — he led me to believe he knew who I was looking for. I thought it was worth a shot to check out.”

Phin rolled his eyes and threw his hands up. Yes. A vampire rolled his eyes. “Never do that again. Besides — we just spotted three of the kids.” Phin glanced at Eli. “They were with a new kid — a little older, but not more than eighteen. A total badass. They’re headed down to the river. Lots of warehouses down there. Luc’s on them.” His gaze returned to Eli. “Lots of gangs hang out down there, too. Glad you’re back.” He slapped his arm.

“Well, let’s go, then,” I said, and turned up the alley. A steely grip stopped me, and I turned to stare at Eli. “What?” I asked, hiding the thrill that shot through my arm at his touch. He couldn’t possibly read every thought I had.

“You stay with me,” he said flatly.

I could tell there’d be no arguing, despite the fact that being close to him made me want him all the more. I’d have to get over it and deal. “Fine,” I answered. “Then, move your ass. I want to see where my brother’s been hanging out.”

Eli stood there, his face unreadable, and stared. It certainly would be nice to have that mind-reading ability, because he was like a stonewalling poker player. I had no idea what he was thinking. Might be a good thing, now that I thought about it.

“Oh-kay,” Phin said sarcastically. “Let’s go.”

We moved through the shady treelined streets of the historic district, past tourists and locals, then slipped through a chain-link fence into the dregs of the industrial riverfront. Two older guys sat near the river, the embers of their cigarettes dotting the blackness with an occasional orange glow. As we edged closer, they turned their heads and stared but kept to themselves. Probably homeless and harmless. Phin slowed and reached into his pocket, grabbed his vibrating cell, and read the text. “Luc says it’s three warehouses down from here. Nine kids in all including the three that just left the Morgue.”

“If all nine complete the quickening, we’ll have a large vampire problem on our hands,” I whispered. “Damn.”

“They’re not all in the same phase,” Eli said. “But it’s still a problem. Big problem. Their tendencies grow each day, and the last time I faced your brother’s friend, he was damn strong. And fast.”

We crossed a patch of soggy, stinky sod that smelled more like rotting sea creatures than the marsh, and edged close to the building. Yeah, an empty warehouse. Just like in the movies. Nothing good ever came from an empty warehouse.

“There’s Luc,” Phin said, and we made our way to where he was standing. A row of dirty windows stretched from one end of the metal building to the other, and a flicker of light came from an old metal barrel. When I neared the window to get a better look, Eli pulled me back and pinned me behind him. I frowned at his back and knew it’d do no good to try to force my way around him. It’d just cause unneeded noise.

“They’re here,” Eli said under his voice. “Arcoses. I can sense them.”

“They weren’t before,” Luc said. “I didn’t sense them, and my sense of . . . sense is better than yours.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Phin said. “Eli’s right — they’re here now. They’re weak, but their vigor has improved. Greatly.”

“Fourteen now, not nine,” Luc said, peering into the window. “Shit.”

Eli glanced at me. “How many were at the cemetery that night?”

“Four, including my brother,” I supplied. “And there’s fourteen now?”

“Twelve. Two in there are the Arcoses,” Eli said. He craned his neck around, then looked at his brothers. “Not good.”

A man’s scream broke the silence.

I leapt at the window to see what had happened; that scream was the kind that speared your soul; I could feel it inside me. He was terrified. Eli pulled me back.

“Riley, don’t,” he said quietly. “It’s too late.”

Part of me — obviously the sick part — wanted to see. I wanted to know what kind of hell I was dealing with. I tried to pull out of Eli’s arms, but he held fast. He moved his face close to mine, his eyes pinning me with a dark glare. “I said no.”

I again struggled. “We’ve got to do something!” I hissed.

Eli’s fingers tightened around my arms. “I said, it’s too late.” When I jerked again, his face grew angry. “Do you really want to see, Riley?” He shook me. “Do you?”

“Yes!” I said furiously under my breath. “I do.”

In a move that nearly made my head rush, Eli spun me around. Through the hazy glass and firelight from the barrel I could vaguely make out three guys — bigger than the rest. Two held the struggling a man, and one had his mouth planted at the guy’s throat. The man’s legs twitched and kicked as he tried to break free; the others — the kids — watched. Then, even from the distance I stood away, I watched as the attacker’s face contorted, long fangs dropped from his mouth and he snatched the struggling man away from the other one who held him and tore into him like a rabid dog. First his throat. Then his chest. The man’s screams died in a drowning gurgle, and I almost gagged. My mouth went dry; I hadn’t even realized I’d started to shake until Eli forced me away from the window. So much blood . . .

“Let’s get out of here,” Phin said.

All the strength had drained from my body; I’d never felt so weak and helpless in my entire life — except once, and that was the day I’d found my mother murdered. I remember holding her in my arms, shaking her hard, yelling at her to wake up. I didn’t like the memories. I hated this. But Christ Almighty, there’d been blood everywhere. That guy never had a chance. And Seth was in the midst of it.

I was silent as Eli and I walked back to the parking garage. Without asking, Eli took the wheel and drove. Luc and Phin stayed behind to watch the boys, and that comforted me very little. My mind rushed around in myriad directions; I wanted to be furious, pissed off and ready to kill. But I was scared. Scared shitless. What they’d done to that man . . .

I leaned my head against the seat as we drove through town, and the city I once loved didn’t look the same anymore. Everything looked darker, menacing, uninviting. Rather, inviting death. The Spanish moss that I’d always loved hung limp and lifeless; every shadowy alcove and alley, every intricately carved piece of black wrought iron beckoned evil, and behind my closed lids I could envision it happening all over again. Seth’s face flashed before me, and just that fast he transformed, and sunk his mouth into the throat of a stranger. I pushed the pads of my fingers into my eye sockets hard, trying to rid myself of the sight. It wouldn’t go away.

“Riley,” Eli said, and in the next breath his hand was on my thigh. I wanted it there; I didn’t want it there. I wanted more; I’d get nothing. I was a loser in this, no matter how I looked at it. My brother would have . . . tendencies, and only if the Arcoses could be destroyed and the boys taken to Da Island for rehab. My mind, though, would never forget what I saw. Never.

I barely noticed when Eli passed Bay Street, and thought nothing when he turned onto Victory. I had no idea where he was headed, and frankly, I didn’t care. The balmy wind swept over me as we drove, and I closed my eyes to try to block the visions invading my brain. It didn’t help.

Then Eli reached over, laced his fingers through mine, and held my hand, and the simple gesture comforted me. I opened my eyes and turned my head to find him already looking at me, and that comforted me, too. When he moved his gaze back to the road, I continued to watch him. His profile was so perfect, his hair blowing sexily against his jaw, his forehead, catching on sensually arched lips that worked magic against my body. Somehow, it made me calm. “Where are we going?” I asked.

He didn’t look at me, but he smiled. “Ever been to the lighthouse?”

I laughed and shook my head. “I grew up here. Of course I’ve been. Why?”

He laughed a total guy laugh and glanced at me. “Were you born a smart-ass, or did that fine quality just develop over the years?”

I smiled. “Shut up.”

Eli chuckled and continued driving. When we reached Tybee he pulled into the vacant parking lot next to the lighthouse. At this time of night, the shore was empty, and I preferred it that way. He cut the engine and we sat for a moment, the surf pounding the sand, the wind ringing through the night. Stars studded the black sky, and the moon hung, a half circle, above the water. Sea oats rustled in the breeze.

Almost a perfect night, the exception being the vicious bloodsuckers taking over the city.

“They’re not going to take over the city,” Eli said, taking liberties with my thoughts. He turned in his seat to look at me. “And I won’t let anything happen to you, Riley.”

I laughed softly, cynically. “It’s not me I’m worried about, Eli, and you know it.”

In the amount of time it took me to blink, he was out of the Jeep and standing at my door. Silently he opened it, clicked my seat belt, and pulled me out. With little force he urged me back against the fender and placed a hand on either side of my body, trapping me. For several seconds he regarded me, searched my face.

“Yeah, I know it,” he said quietly. “You make sure everyone knows how tough you are, all the time.” With one hand he grasped my jaw and dropped his head closer to me. “You’re a fragile human, Riley,” he said, his hand sliding to my throat. “So fragile, so delicate, so easy to kill.” His grip tightened. “When are you going to get that through your thick skull?”

I stared at him, my gaze unwavering. Instead, the unavoidable happened — something I hated; something that seemed to happen more and more since I’d met Eli Dupré. Tears formed in my eyes and rolled down my cheeks. I lifted my chin. “Never,” I said, my voice cracking, determined.

Something flared in Eli’s eyes, and then they softened. His hand loosened and slid from my throat upward, his fingers threading into my hair, and he leaned his forehead against mine. I breathed in his scent, unique, sweet, and earthy, and slipped my arms around his waist.

“I can’t let anything happen to you,” he whispered against my ear. “You’ve become too important to me, Riley.” He pulled back and looked at me, his eyes dark pools in the shadows. “Understand?”

“Not really,” I whispered, and I didn’t.“But if you think I’m going to cower in some corner while my brother experiences the quickening, you’re crazy. I promise to be careful.”

Eli’s features tightened, his jaw flinched, and he sighed, as though he was holding something back and it was not something he wished to discuss. He stared at me for several seconds, then inclined his head toward the lighthouse. “Come on.”

I didn’t ask how Eli had a key to the lighthouse; I just followed him inside. He grabbed my hand and led me across the shadowy interior. “I was just a ways up the shore when they installed the first Fresnel lens,” he said. “Pretty cool. Always did like lighthouses. They fascinate me.”

I laughed. “I keep forgetting you’re so old.”

“Yeah, right,” he said.

We made it to the steps. “I’d race you, but I’m sure you’d cheat and use your vamp powers to beat me,” I said, then craned my neck and peered above me at the steps as they spiraled upward. “Seth and I used to race them all the time. One hundred and seventy-eight steps to the top.” I laughed, but it was with sadness. “He always got such a kick out of it.” I felt the beginning of panic seize me once more, and again, Eli was there to rescue me.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he said, moving close. “And hold on.”

I did, and slipped my arms around his neck. We were face-to-face, body to body, and sensations soared within me. Eli read my mind and lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me, a long, gentle, sensual kiss that had my head spinning. He tasted sweet, just like his scent, and I knew it wasn’t anything like a mortal scent. It was a scent only a creature of the afterlight could possess. And Eli possessed it fully.

With a sensual pull of my lips into his mouth, and a sweep of his tongue, Eli ended the kiss and took the one hundred and seventy-eight steps to the top in seven. Yeah, seven. Traveling that fast while hanging on to someone, in a spiral staircase? It was better than any amusement park ride I’d ever been on. My head spun, adrenaline pumped, and somehow, my sexual desire for Eli tripled. Quadrupled.

At the top, Eli lowered me onto the platform and eased open the door that led to the outer balcony. The wind was wicked strong, salty, and . . . perfect. Without a word, he shut the door behind us and urged me to the rail, where he crowded behind me and placed his arms on either side of me. I admit — I liked the feeling of being trapped by Eli’s body.

“Good,” he whispered against my ear. “Get used to it.”

A shiver shot through my body, and I looked out over the darkened Atlantic. Several lights blinked from the fishing boats off the sound, and the glow from the moon rippled steadily over the water. Somewhere close, an oyster shoal bubbled, and the wind carried the ever-present brine to my nostrils.

“It’s strange to think we’ve shared this place,” Eli said, sliding his hands over my waist. His mouth sought the tender area of skin beneath my ear — something that should have had me on guard since he was a vampire, but it didn’t. He had the ability to make me forget all of it. “The two of us, in the same city but totally different worlds,” he whispered. He turned me around, my back to the rail, and looked down at me. Moonlight flashed off his eyes. “Same world now.”

I didn’t have to wait for his mouth to descend upon mine; it happened instantly, and the burning desire his touch created felt just as new as the first time he’d ever sensually laid a hand, or his tongue, on me. My skin heated under his touch, and sensations rocked me as his tongue tasted, his teeth nipped, and he suckled my bottom lip as his hands swept over my back, cupped my ass, and pulled me against him. I kissed him back, lost in the atmosphere and in Eli, and as I slipped my hands beneath his shirt and caressed the ridges of his abs, he gasped against my mouth. With his fingers buried in my hair, he held my head still and looked at me.

“I thought I could bring you out here, talk to you, comfort you,” he said, his voice strained. He leaned closer. “But all I can think of is being inside of you.” He kissed me, dragged his lips across my jaw, then back. “And staying inside of you,” he whispered against my lips.

“I’m comforted, so let’s go,” I said hurriedly, because I wanted the same thing.

With a laugh, Eli gave me a quick kiss, grabbed my hand, and led me back down the steps of Tybee’s lighthouse.

I’d never look at it the same again.

The drive back to my apartment was excruciatingly long and sensually painful at the same time. We didn’t speak — not with words, anyway. Eli read every sexual thought I had, and I knew it, so I let my mind wander freely. It was so easy, and almost amusing. I’d think about how I wanted to run my hand along his thigh, to his crotch, and before the thought actually was completed, Eli had my hand in his and had moved it to his leg. I edged as close to him as my seat belt would allow, and nuzzled his neck, drew his earlobe into my mouth and sucked while my hand roamed over his thigh, cupped his crotch. Slowly, I unfastened the buttons of his jeans and eased my hand inside, and the sound of his pained groan and my name on his lips made a flash of heat spread between my thighs. I was so turned on that I didn’t think either of us would make it back to Inksomnia. We did — barely.

We parked, and Eli reached over, clicked my seat belt, and dragged me onto his lap, our mouths melding together as we tasted, kissed, panted. Stumbling out of the Jeep, we somehow made it to the door; somebody — I can’t remember whether it was Eli or me — opened the door, and once inside we fell against the wall. His kiss was fierce, desperate, and we didn’t linger there. He carried me up the stairs and straight into my bedroom. With a loud slam he kicked the door shut. He crossed the room, and we fell onto the bed together, writhing and pawing at each other until every stitch of clothing lay on the floor. Our kisses were no longer gentle; they were frantic, and we each struggled for control. Eli touched me everywhere, dug his fingers into the flesh of my hips as he pulled me on top of him, and I straddled him and took his hard length deep inside of me. My head dropped backward, and I gasped with pleasure as the sensation of Eli filling me rushed through me. His hands left my hips and covered my breasts, trailed the dragons on my arms, and grazed my thighs.

In the next second, he flipped me, and Eli was on top of me, his weight resting on his forearms, and as he began to move inside of me, he lowered his head and pressed his mouth to mine. I wrapped my legs around him and moved with him; his mouth left mine as he buried his face in my neck. I shoved my hands through his hair, and as the orgasm gained strength I cried out Eli’s name, then went breathless as shots of light fired behind my eyes. Eli found his release at the same time, intensifying mine, and it went on and on as our bodies writhed in pleasure. The residue of orgasm began to retract, slowly, and as it did, Eli’s mouth moved to my lips. He kissed me, his hands buried in my hair and cradling my head gently; then he pulled back just enough that our gazes locked.

“Mine,” he whispered against my mouth. He kissed me again. “You are mine.”

In the shadows I stared into the eyes of a vampire, grazed his mouth with my finger. “No, you’re mine.”

Over the next few days I felt rejuvenated. Where I’d felt catatonic before, now I felt ready to kick some ass. It wasn’t so much because of what I’d seen at the warehouse. It’d been gruesome, absolutely. Horrific. And, strangely enough, it wasn’t my amazing relationship with Eli, although I have to admit, it was seriously empowering. But even that wasn’t it. It was the deep responsibility I felt for that man’s life, for all the kids’ lives in that freaking warehouse, Zac the almost marine, the woman in the park — everyone who had been slaughtered just so a couple of satanic undead creatures could revitalize their powers. It pissed me off. Even deeper was a responsibility to end it. To destroy the monsters. I wanted to do something, not sit around on my ass and wait.

Every day that passed, I missed my brother even more. We were so close; it was like a part of me was missing, like I’d lost a body part. It hurt. My chest actually, physically hurt — especially knowing where he was, what he was doing, and what he was fast becoming. Every time I’d look in his room, my body went numb. Seth was the only blood family I had left. I wanted my baby brother back, dammit.

Despite Eli’s run to Da Island to get protection against killing me, and the threat that was always present, I wanted him. Desperately. I mean, I hated sounding like some weakling who can’t make it in life without a man, but damn. We’d clicked. I’d felt it. And I wanted it. I wanted him. And he wanted me — he made no effort to hide it. I didn’t care that he was undead, and I didn’t care that he’d outlive me. Yet Gilles’ words rang in my head continuously — almost as though he kept doing it on purpose to keep me from caving in to my desires. Actually, he did put a thought into my head. He literally told me that Eli would have his head better in the game if he wasn’t preoccupied by me. Say what? It was hard — don’t get me wrong. I’ve never experienced so much difficulty keeping my hands off a man in the whole of my life. Worse than that, I had to pretend that it didn’t bother me so much, that I didn’t care. Goddamn, I did care. Too much for my own good. And he affected me. Whoa. Did he ever. And who am I kidding? He knew it. The guy freely dug into my thoughts.

I did pretty well, keeping my distance those few days, and Eli actually allowed it. I’d made it perfectly clear that we needed to focus on this mission and not get caught up in a lust affair. Eli had made quite an effort, too, at the urging of his papa; he’d stayed away, and Phin continued to be my babysitter.

The dreams continued.

I had two more nights at the apartment. I’d agreed to spend the rest of Seth’s quickening at the House of Dupré, mainly to train. If anything, I was a workaholic, and hell yeah, I’d train my ass off if it helped take down the Arcoses. I’d dreamed the two nights before; I’d kept them to myself because of the nature of the dreams. They were highly intense, erotic, at times freakishly kinky, and part of me thought they came over me because of what I went to bed each night thinking of: Eli. The first night, after the warehouse, I found myself back at the Panic Room, in one of the back rooms, completely naked, my limbs spread and roped to the bed — something I’d never been into. I liked control too much, I guess. He was there — always the same beautiful, flawless, freaky guy — and he did nothing more than stare at me. He whispered nasty-bad things in my head, things he wanted to do to me with his tongue, how many different positions he wanted to take me in, and it was like a drug. I wanted to break free and escape the panic rooms, and put as much distance between us as possible; I wanted him inside me first. It was insane. Not once had this dream guy ever physically touched me. Afterward, I felt wicked guilty.

The following night I found myself alone at an amusement park on the waterfront — sort of like Coney Island, I guess. He pursued me through the park, slowly, never relenting. I ducked into the house of mirrors, only to find him there, watching me. When I looked in all the mirrors, I saw us, naked and entwined. I ran to escape, and ran so hard I woke up with chest pain. Weird. Both very weird. I’d never seen this guy in my life, and all I knew of him was that he was one horny little toad who had some major control over my brain.

I climbed out of bed and got ready as usual. I had only one client, and then I’d be heading over to the Duprés’ — along with my entourage of Gullah bodyguards. I don’t know why, but I felt safe with them. I know it sounds crazy, but I firmly believed the Duprés were a much different breed of undead than . . . any other undead out there. Besides, Estelle had given me a canister filled with my special brew.

No sooner did I pull on my jeans, black fishnet long sleeve, and white ripped Inksomnia tank than a harsh banging at the back entrance made me jump. When I stepped into the living room, Phin watched me; I shrugged, and jogged downstairs to see who it was. When I opened the door I was surprised — and repulsed — to see someone I’d hoped never to lay eyes on again.

“Well, Ms. Poe,” Detective Claude Murray said. His eyes regarded me a little too closely for comfort. As they always had. “All grown-up, I see.”

I inspected him. “And I see you’re still packed into that suit like a sardine.”

He grinned — looked like he still chewed tobacco — and shook his head. “Grown-up but still a smart-ass, eh? Figures.” He glanced at his watch. “You need to take a little trip down to the station for some questions, little miss tight pants.”

“Why?” Phin said from over my shoulder. I could feel his tension rolling off him in waves. Phin might look innocent, but he was anything but. I knew he could rip Claude’s arms off in less than five seconds.

Claude ignored Phin and stared hard at me. “You’ll find out. Let’s go.”

I gave a short laugh. “If you think I’m riding anywhere with you, you’ve grown senile in your old age, Murray.” I grabbed my keys off the hook. “Why am I needed for questioning?” I asked, hooking my pack onto my back.

Claude Murray, a graying man in his midfifties and getting more portly by the second, gave me a hard stare. “Looks like your past is coming back to bite you in that little ass of yours, Poe,” he said quietly. “Your old boyfriend Kelter Phillips just turned up at the city morgue.” His gaze raked over my body, and I literally felt like I needed a bath. “And according to his girlfriend, you were the last to see him alive.”