Darklove

Part Three OLDE BLOOD

The rest of the morning is spent first going over the map of Inverness, spread out on the kitchen table. Noah and I hunch over the creased, new map, shoulder to shoulder, studying. Inverness isn’t very large, so we then head out into the city itself. We hit every main artery road, close, and dead-end street in the City Centre on foot, and fan out to the river and industrial park by cab. I suspect to most onlookers, Noah and I are just another touring couple on vacay. What they don’t know won’t hurt, as the saying goes. Rather, possibly, won’t kill.

Yet despite Noah’s encouraging words to get my mind in the game, my thoughts stray to Eli. I just can’t help it. He was taken from me, and I want him back. Badly. Why can’t he be here now? Why did Vic make it home, but not Eli?

As my eyes take in the Scottish city, I daydream about what it’d be like to be here just as a regular couple in love, touring the city. The Highlands. Taking a boat out onto Loch Ness and searching for Nessie. Walking the hillsides, and traipsing through ancient castle ruins. A ping of jealousy roils inside me at all the regular people living regular lives. Wake up, eat breakfast, go to work, socialize, come home. Normal stuff. Jesus Christ, I’m about as far from normal as I can possibly fucking be.

I want my goddamn life back.

“Hey,” Noah says, and I look at him. His eyes soften. “Stop that.”

I heave a sigh. “I swear, I’ll try.”

He pulls me into a side hug, kisses the top of my head, and we continue on.

The Scots are a friendly people whom I find I like more and more as I spend time here. I wish so much of this time wasn’t spent on killing and death. It’s inevitable, though, and the more I stop complaining about it, the faster I’ll accept it. It’s what we’re here to do. Stop a killer. Apparently, more than one. Wanna know something weird? Sometimes, even though I know it has to be done, somewhere far in the recesses of my brain, I’m saddened that I reduce bloodsuckers to a shimmering puddle of white goop. They used to be people. Sons. Daughters. Sisters. Brothers. Friends. Lovers. Who would ever look at a vampire, whether on TV, or in a movie, or like me, in life, and give him or her a soul? I guess it has to do with the fact that my family now is made up of age-old vampires who care not only about me, my brother, Seth, and other humans, but about one another. Makes me wonder how it’s possible they—Noah, Eli, and his family—can do it. How they can care, but others can’t. Or won’t. I’m doing a lot of reflecting lately. Whatever that means.

Noah stops a few people on the street, locals at the university, maybe. The early-twenties crowd. They tell us where the best clubs are, best cafés, best pubs. We find our way to some of the seedier parts of the city. Inverness is friendly and welcoming, so what’s seedy isn’t very noticeable to any ordinary eye. But Noah can sniff out a punk, and we find a group of four huddled against a building near the industrial park. Late teens, early twenties, trying their best to look tough as hell. Doing a good job of it, too. Every one of them is dragging on a cigarette. We walk up, and one kid, wearing a thick, ratty-looking gray woolen sweater and a black skully, pushes off the wall he’s leaning on and pulls long on his smoke. His eyes are locked on to mine. They shift momentarily to the black wing inked at the corner of my cheekbone.

“Aye?” he says in a thick accent. He moves his gaze to Noah.

“Where can we score some shit?” Noah asks.

The kid laughs, and the others chuckle with him. “Wha’ makes ya think I know where tae get shit?” the kid asks, then looks at me. “Americans. On holiday, aye? This your brother, love?” He inclines his head toward Noah.

A sharp sparkle lights his gaze as he studies Noah. Intelligent guy, maybe nineteen, and he’s pretty cute. Green eyes, along with a flawless complexion and strong jaw. Dark eyebrows, nicely shaped, so he must have dark hair beneath the skully. Makes me freaking sick that he’s such a dumb-ass, wasting his life on drugs. He must be early on in the game because his eyes are too quick for him to have been doing it for too long. They make easy prey for vampires, the druggies. It’s why we find them, find out where they hang, sell, buy. There’s a chance we might just save their sorry lives.

“How’d you guess?” I say to him.

“Hopin’,” he answers, and grins. Bright white, wide smile. Wicked-strong accent. Maybe we got these kids all wrong. He’s tall, stands eye to eye with Noah.

I just stare at him.

“I never fook wi’ the stuff,” he says to Noah, and studies him. “You dunna, either.” He glances at me, then back to Noah. “Cops?” His eyes drift from my feet to my eyes. “Nah. No’ cops. But somethin’ else.”

Yeah. Smart kid all right. “Clubs?” I ask. You got clubs people go to for a good time, drink, dance, and hook up. Then you have the ones notorious for . . . other stuff. Both are hunting grounds for a rogue vampire. But the one with high-traffic lawlessness instinctively draws the worst kinds. People and vamps.

“Boyo’s,” one of the other guys offers. He draws on his cigarette and points with it. “Four streets over, one up.”

“Cost ya eight quid tae get in,” another claims. “Worth every pence.”

“But if ya fancy a good tune or two, try Hush 51. Just up the river a ways,” the leader claims with a grin. “They’ve a fine live band this weekend.”

“Aye,” the other added. “finest in the bloody Highlands.”

I lift an eyebrow. Sassy little shits. We’re talking to the whole band.

Noah chuckles. “What time do you start?”

The leader blows smoke. “Nine.” He inclines his head. “Gerry. Tate. Pete. Drums, keyboard, electric fiddle.” He jabs his hand out to Noah. “Rhine,” he says, and winks at me. “Bass and vocals, love.”

What a hot dog.

“Noah, Riley,” Noah introduces. “Sorry for the mix-up.”

Rhine shrugs. “Happens,” he claims, and glances at his band. “We do look a wee bit thuggish, aye?”

The others all chuckle.

“Oy, are ya here, then, because o’ the murders?” Tate asks. He’s got wavy auburn hair that curls over his ears.

“Why would American cops be here investigatin’ Scottish murders, you horse’s arse?” Pete says.

“Shut the fook up,” Tate says with a laugh. “Just askin’.”

“Just passing through,” Noah says. “What murders?”

“Serial killer, mayhap,” Rhine claims. “Three killed so far.” He shakes his head. “Fookin’ gruesome.”

“Aye,” Gerry the drummer adds. “Girl just found this mornin’, all of her blood drained.”

“Unusual for Inverness,” Rhine says. “Take care where you go after dark.”

I look at the guys that Noah and I both had misjudged. I guess I’ll have to dip into minds a little more often before assuming. And on that note, I decide something before leaving. I give Rhine a smile. “Thanks. See ya round, maybe.”

He smiles back.

And I level my gaze at all four band members, ending with Rhine. Take the cigarettes out of your mouths, drop them onto the ground, and crush them.

Rhine immediately takes his cigarette out, drops it, and smashes it with his boot. The others, in sync, do the same.

Don’t smoke. Anything. Ever again. Cold-turkey quit. Nod if you understand.

All four guys nod at once.

Noah shakes his head and stares at me with admiration. Probably a little envy, too. He inclines his head, we say good-bye to the guys, and leave. When we round the block, he glances over at me. “So now you’re the poster child for the quit-smoking club, huh?”

I shrug. “Yeah, I guess. Just thought I’d throw it in. Wish some noble mind reader would’ve stopped my smoking habit when I was a little younger.”

“You stopped it yourself,” Noah says.

“Not really. I think Preacher and Estelle put some root doctor whammy on me.”

Noah chuckles, and we continue up the street. Surrounded by gray stone buildings, we draw closer to the touristy city center. We pass a chippy, a Celtic jeweler, and a kilt maker. As I glance into the large picture window of the kilt maker, an image catches my eye. Eli. My heart leaps.

In the middle of the walkway I snap my head to stare across the street. Passersby walk up and down the sidewalk. No Eli. No one out of the ordinary. Grabbing the door handle, I enter MacClennon’s Fine Kilts.

A wave of spice and lavender hits me in the nose as I walk into the small shop. Racks display finely pressed kilts of all sizes. An open oak closet exhibits woolen gloves, mittens, and hats. A thick iron-legged table presents rows of fingerless gloves of all colors, made of lamb’s wool. In the corner, my eyes light on the cashier. She’s wearing her graying hair in a high bun and sporting a dark green vest, a white cotton shirt, and a blue-and-black-plaid tie. She smiles broadly.

“Good afternoon,” she says. “May I help you?”

I smile back as my eyes scan the room. “No, thank you. Just looking.” I mull through the store, notice a few tourists sorting through the various sizes of kilts. One woman sifts through the gloves.

No sign of Eli. Or anyone who even remotely looks anything like him.

I wave at the graying woman, and turn to leave. I almost knock into Noah.

We both head outside. “What’s up?” he asks.

I stare across the street, then up and down the sidewalk. I shrug and walk on. “Nothing. Thought I saw something.”

We’re moving through the afternoon crowd now, and Noah is a half step behind me. Kids in school black-and-white uniforms are weaving with us, as well as a few tourists and locals. I wish I could send out one big mental warning, a juju heads-up, saying Everyone stay inside after dark! so that no one here gets butchered. I don’t like not knowing what’s what. And I seriously don’t like having the cold sensation of sensing Eli’s presence in a threatening way. It’s leaving an aftertaste in my mouth that’s beyond hideous.

“Riley?”

I glance up at Noah, then back to the sidewalk. “What?”

When we round the corner, he pulls me to a stop. “You thought you saw Eli again.”

A man passes by, and his eyes are level with mine. He spares Noah a brief glance and almost pauses, as though worried we’re having a domestic dispute. I can see it in his aging blue eyes. I smile at him and nod, and he returns the gesture and moves on. Nice to know chivalry exists still in humans.

I sigh and meet Noah’s penetrating gaze. “First, you have to stop glaring at me like that in public. And stop grabbing me, too. That old guy was an inch from busting your ass right here on the sidewalk.”

Noah’s body relaxes, and his eyes soften, just a little.

“Yes, I thought I saw Eli again,” I answer him. I shove my hands deep into the pockets of my jacket. “When I glanced at the store window as we passed that kilt maker’s store, I saw his reflection in the glass.” I looked up at him. “The second I turned my head to search the street, he wasn’t there. I think I’m losing my mind,” I finish.

Noah studies me for a second or two. His jaw muscle tightens. “I wish you were. That’s fixable.” He glances out over the cobbled street, and his gaze scales the building in front of us. He studies the skyline for a moment longer. “What scares me”—Noah looks back at me—“is that you’re not losing your mind.” With a nod, he inclines his head. “Let’s get back to the map. We’ve got about an hour and a half before nightfall.”

We start back up the street and head to the guesthouse. Noah’s words have bugged the hell out of me. He left his meaning unanswered, but I knew it, no matter how hard he disputed it. Knew it just as my body knows how to breathe without conscious thought. Yet his words claw at me the whole way back, and even while we’re sitting at the kitchen table, hunched over the map and planning our route for the night’s hunt, it bothers me.

He’s scared Eli is back from that alternative realm.

And that he’s not the same Eli.

A cold shiver runs down my spine at the thought. I try to push it aside, that thought, but it lingers, and soon it feels like fire ants are pinching and biting my insides. I need to get out. Get some fresh air. Just be alone for a few minutes.

I push away from the table and stand. “I’ll be back in a few.”

“Riley,” Noah warns, and rises with me.

“Don’t even,” I warn in return. “I have to get some air. Clear my head.” I frown at him. “Alone. Kinda like peeing without someone standing there, watching. I need a little alone time, Miles. Seriously.”

Emotion flutters across his handsome features, and I know he’s struggling with letting me out by myself. He wants to protect me, be by my side continuously to make sure nothing happens.

Well, that’s all great, but I gotta have a breather.

“Half an hour,” I say. “I’m just walking up the street to the market and back.” When his face still pinches with confliction, I force a small smile. “Promise. Back before dark.”

It’s almost funny to see a vampire imitate a sigh. It’s breathless, only going through the human motion he did for so long. Noah rubs his eyes and nods. “It’s not that I don’t think you can handle yourself. There’s something out there, Riley. And we don’t know exactly what yet.”

“Vampires,” I offer. “We knew that coming here.”

He frowns. “Smart-ass. It’s more than that and you know it.” He stares at me. “Call me if anything goes on. And I don’t mean on my cell phone.”

Pushing my arm through the sleeve of my leather jacket, I nod. “Will do.”

“Back in thirty,” Noah reminds me.

“Yep,” I agree, and close the door.

Outside, the shades of late-afternoon drift over the cobbles. It’s crazy here in the winter months. November, and it gets full-on dark at four thirty in the afternoon.

As I walk, it starts to drizzle a freezing, misting rain. I briefly meet the friendly gazes of passersby, young and old, as they hurry home, hurry to the pubs, to the market. A gray haze hangs in the air, so thick I have to fight not to swipe it away with my hand.

Suddenly, memories of home, of before Edinburgh and Eli’s . . . whatever that was . . . happened. I miss home. I miss Preacher and Estelle, my wonderful surrogate grandparents. I miss Nyx, my best friend. Seth, my baby brother. Eli’s family.

I miss that time. Living on the salt water surrounded by oaks and Spanish moss, tattooing people for a living. Eating Krystal hamburgers until I thought I’d puke. The pungent scent of the marsh at low tide. Having tea with Preacher and Estelle every morning.

And when I first fell in love with a vampire. When Eli was well, strong, and determined to guard the lives of Savannah’s mortals. I miss my tattoo shop, Inksomnia, and I miss creating, the artwork, the hum of my ink gun. How life has changed since then.

If I could only have Eli back, the rest I could deal with.

Almost finished with my self–pity party, I turn the corner and the open market is before me. Although the shadows from the building and pending nightfall stretch long over the row of flower bouquets and fruit containers, people mill about making their choices. I look out of place, dressed in all black with a wing inked at the corner of my eye. Long dark hair with a few random fuchsia chunks added in. And although people can’t see them, I have just under a half dozen blades sheathed beneath my clothes. Yeah. I love open markets, too. Flowers, food, and random stuff. Takes my mind off all the bullshit. . . .

Then, as I’m sifting through the hoards of gorgeous flowers, a sensation crawls over me. Without much thought, I glance over my shoulder. Through the crowd, his height and stature rises above everyone else. Everyone mortal. His gaze locks on to mine.

My slow-beating heart plummets to my stomach, and I drop the flowers back into the bin and move toward him. Don’t take your eyes off him this time, Poe. Keep staring.

I stare as long as I can. My eyes start to water, burn. Then I can’t help it—I blink.

And he’s not in the same place. Shit!

My eyes search the crowd frantically as I weave through them, dodging shoppers and market workers packing up for the evening. Then I see him again. He’s standing beneath an awning, and I hurry toward him. Eli! I scream his name in my head. Eligius Dupré, goddamn it! I see him. I see people stepping around him to pass by. I’m not imagining this. He’s not a mirage. He’s really here. And I’m not losing my fucking mind.

A slight smile touches his mouth. At first, my heart melts at the sight of it. The memories. The familiarity.

Then it changes. Something snaps in his eyes, and his smile contorts.

The absolute coldness of it sends a feeling of dread clear to my bones. It chills me.

I’m moving fast now, my eyes glued to Eli. When he turns, he fades into the crowd, but I still see his broad shoulders. He’s wearing a black leather jacket. Dark jeans. I’m not losing him this time. As we move out of the market area, the crowd thins, and Eli turns up the street toward the river Ness. High above the city center, the castle lights flicker on ahead, illuminating the red sandstone fortress of Inverness Castle through the wintry haze. Eli’s stride is long. Purposeful. He knows where he’s going. Whether he knows I’m following him, I can’t tell. But he doesn’t look back when he turns off Union and onto Church Street.

He’s barely out of sight when I break into a run. I turn the same corner and pull up short, searching the darkness cast in streetlights and shadows. Few people are on the sidewalk. Not one of them is Eli.

Shit! I break into a run and make it to the end of the street. Looking both ways, I can’t find him. I can’t even sense him. And just as I’m about to take off running again, I’m grabbed by the shoulder and jerked back. My feet almost leave the ground, and I’m knocked against the closed storefront’s double oak doors. My eyes are wide as I stare up at Noah. The streetlight shines on only half his face.

He’s pissed.

“What the fuck, Riley?” he says angrily, in a low voice. “What are you doing?”

Snatched out of my crazed momentary stupor, I shake Noah off and push away from the door. “I’m not losing my mind. I just followed Eli from the market. I saw him totally clear, Noah,” I say. I wait for a couple to pass us, and I glance in their direction and lower my voice. “He’s wearing a black leather jacket, dark jeans. People dodged him. He looked me dead in the eye and I saw his face.” I think about the chilling smile that sent shivers down my spine. “He’s not right, just like you thought. But I saw him. And he saw me. And for a second, I don’t know. He did look like himself.” I look at Noah, pleading for him to understand. “Then it changed. He changed. And when he smiled at me, I felt cold as hell. It was him, Noah. Swear to God.”

Noah’s staring at me. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” I answer. No hesitation. “Dead sure.”

Noah grabs his cell phone and makes a call. He stares at me as he speaks, and I can hear every word exchanged between him and Jake Andorra.

“She’s sure,” Noah says.

“Jesus. You canna let her off alone,” Andorra says. “He’s unpredictable now.”

That makes my insides ache.

Noah lifts an eyebrow. “What do you want me to do, Jake? Cuff her to me?”

“If you have to.”

Noah swears. “Right.”

“Let me talk to her,” Jake says. Noah hands the phone to me.

“Jake,” I say, “what’s going on?” I figure an age-old vampire like Jake Andorra, plus someone who has known Eli for too long to count in years, would know something. Give me some sort of clue as to what the hell is happening.

“I’m not entirely sure,” he answers.

Give me a freaking break.

Jake reads my thoughts, and chuckles. I don’t think it’s too damn funny.

“Riley, something’s happened to Eli and I don’t know what yet. The fact that he’s appearing to you, although eluding you at the same time, means something. Almost as if he remembers you, and wants to connect. But he’s dangerous. We canna trust him. You canna trust him. Not now. Maybe not ever again.”

My heart sinks. “That’s not going to happen, Jake.”

“Listen to me, Riley,” Jake says. His tone is stern, his accent heavier than usual. That means he’s not only pissed, but worried. And I hate it. “You canna abandon your mission for the sake of Eli. He may verra well be causing the bloodbath there in Inverness. Do you want innocents to die?”

“Of course not,” I answer angrily. “And I’m not abandoning anything. I saw him. I followed him. I want to find out what the hell is wrong with him, Jake. Why Victorian can pop home to Romania safe and sound, and Eli just . . . disappears.” I’m so exasperated talking about this, I almost growl. “And now he has reappeared. And I want him back, Jake. I won’t give up on him, either. He’s my fiancé. Or don’t you remember that?”

“Aye, girl, I remember,” he answers. “But dunna you forget that I know what he is.” His voice is low, edgy. “What we all are. And I know his full potential. You won’t go anywhere alone again. No’ a breath o’ fresh air. No’ a run to the chippy. Nothing. Nowhere without Miles. If I have this problem wi’ you again, I’ll pull you from the mission and fly your arse back to Savannah. Ya ken?”

Noah’s staring a hole through my head. His mercury eyes are all but illuminated in the shadows of the awning we’re standing beneath. My blood is boiling, but what’s left to do?

“Riley?”

“I ken, I ken,” I answer Jake. Meaning, in Scot’s terms, that I get it. I understand.

“Good. And dunna try your mind warpin’ on Miles again. He cares about what happens to you. As do I. And I promise we’ll do everything we can to fix this.”

“Will you come here?” I ask.

“I can’t now. Ginger isn’t stable enough to leave. As soon as I can, though, I will.”

Ginger Slater is one of my WUP team members. She recently transitioned from human trainee to werewolf elite. She’s as unpredictable right now as Eli, I guess, and in the midst of a werewolf war.

“You guessed right,” Jake says, using his capabilities to read my thoughts. “Take care, Riley. And stay close to Miles. He’s the best chance you’ve got right now.”

“I will,” I answer. Jake hangs up, and I hand the phone back to Noah. “I’m sorry,” I say. And I mean it. “I . . . panicked, I guess. I saw Eli. He moved. I followed. I didn’t think.”

Noah jams his cell phone in the inside pocket of his jacket. “Yeah. You just don’t want me to cuff you.” He grins. “To me.”

I like that there’s still some small part of Noah, post vow-making to keep me safe, that is still lighthearted enough to joke around. If anyone wanted to be cuffed to me, it’d be Noah Miles, perverted vampire extraordinaire. I miss the old Noah. Nasty as hell, but fun.

His grin widens as he, too, reads my mind. “Let’s go.”

I guess nothing’s fun anymore. Definitely nothing normal. And none of it will be until all of this crazy shit is fixed.

And Eli is back with me. Safe.

We then hit the streets. I have a sense of unsettledness. It’s hard to explain. I’m on edge, like I feel something is so very not right. Something besides Eli’s unpredictability. With Noah on one side of the street, and me on the other, we search. Listen. Smell the air. Neither of us catches the first sign of a predator. Or a victim.

By nine, Noah holds the door for me as we enter Hush 51. It’s Friday night, and while not many tourists are lingering in Inverness, the local crowd—especially the college crowd—has packed the club. There’s alcohol. Maybe light drugs. Either way, it makes a human vulnerable, as well as an easy target for a vampire on the prowl. Noah had suggested we hit the club, and I’d agreed. Plus, I was a little curious about Rhine and his bandmates.

The dark wood interior of Hush 51 is polished and shining, and the low lights cast an amber hue over the crowd standing and sitting before the band. Rhine sees us enter, and he grins widely and gives us a nod.

“Aye, aye, settle down, ye feisty wicked pub jumpers,” a man with a Hush 51 T-shirt announces at the mic. “Hard Knox, if ye fancy—”

The locals cheer and yell, and Rhine and the guys start up. So their band is called Hard Knox. Pretty cool. The pub is quaking and humming with music, and for a second I’m distracted by Rhine’s voice. It’s pretty goddamn good. I listen to him as my gaze slides over the crowd. I’m now at the bar, and I nod at the bartender. “Aye, lass?” he says with a smile. The gap between his front teeth is endearing.

“Pint,” I respond, and he serves me one. I take a sip. Noah’s right next to me.

Then all at once, everything happens. It’s as if, without my permission, my own tendencies turn on at the same time. Rhine’s voice fades. The patrons’ voices fine-tune, and all their words are going off at once in my head. A cold, icy sensation washes over me, and instinctively, I turn around on my barstool and glance toward the far corner.

Noah’s leather jacket creaks from the motion of him turning, too.

Eli’s there. A woman’s beside him. Tall. Almost as tall as he is. Dark, long auburn hair that falls in waves to her waist. Flawless alabaster skin and pouty full lips. Who the hell is she?

At the same moment my brain sends a message to my legs, I slide off the barstool. My heart feels like it’s beating out of my chest. They’re both looking at me, Eli and the woman, and just as I’m about to start making my way through the crowd, the woman reaches up and grazes Eli’s jaw with her hand. She smiles at me. My eyes lock with Eli’s.

He knows me. I can see it. And I can also see his eyes flash with . . . something. Regret? Struggle? What the hell?

Then a darkness clouds Eli’s eyes, and he lowers his head, presses his mouth to hers, and kisses her.

I’m frozen to the floor, unable to breathe, much less move. I actually wheeze as my breath leaves my lungs. It’s painful, and a little dizzying. The crowd seems oblivious of me as I stare, paralyzed, while Eli seductively makes out with the redhead. Emotions run through me fast, and before I finish with pain and sorrow, fury takes over. I feel a hand on my shoulder. It’s Noah, and I reach behind me and grab his hand. My eyes are locked on to Eli and the woman. I start to move toward them. The overwhelming urge to kick her ass takes over me. My body tenses. Noah squeezes my hand.

And that’s when the woman breaks Eli’s kiss and looks dead at me.

Her tongue runs across her lips. And then she smiles and beckons to me with a long, delicate finger. I hear her voice, melodic tinged with an ancient accent, in my head.

Come here, Riley Poe. I’ve got something to show you. Something that’s mine. . . .

I hear Rhine’s voice over the mic, his sexy sound crooning over the crowd. Drums. Keyboard. Fiddle. Bass. My feet start to move, as if they’ve been instructed to do so against my will, and my hand drops Noah’s as I weave through the crowd.

Toward the woman and Eli.

The music almost lulls me into a trance as I ease through the crowd. I don’t understand why my body is complying, and why I’m not running full force at the woman, knocking her back, and grabbing and shaking Eli until he snaps out of whatever weird zombie state he’s in. But I can’t. I just keep walking toward them. The woman continues to beckon me, and she slips her hand inside Eli’s jacket. She places her head against his chest, and Eli’s arm drapes around her shoulders and pulls her tightly against him. He’s not looking at me. Not meeting my gaze now.

Even with my eyes glued to the chilling smile on the woman’s face, I can’t stop.

When I step through the last couple, dancing and singing along with Rhine’s band, the lights are now flickering to keep with the beat. The music hums just under the surface of my skin, a fierce vibration that keeps me fixated on only what’s in front of me. Eli and this new woman. I’m now less than two feet from them both, and the woman looks at me with icy blue eyes. Her full lips tip upward, and her tongue darts out to lick her bottom one. She smiles.

Watch us.

My eyes are locked onto the woman and Eli less than two feet away as she tips her head to the side and draws closer to Eli. His eyes, those cerulean blue and sometimes stormy orbs that I fell in love with, pierce me now, and for a split second, I see hesitation. A flash of anger in his eyes. Then he stiffens, and those eyes now stay focused on my gaze as he lowers his head and moves his mouth over the woman’s. His hand threads through her hair, pulling her head backward just a bit, and his other hand skims her throat and grasps her jaw. His tongue sweeps hers, the light glistening off its moisture, and their passion is as palpable as my own pulse. Not once does his gaze leave mine as he kisses her. The lights flash, the music thumps, and I can’t do anything except stand there and watch them. As if I’m rooted to the wooden floor beneath me, paralyzed in place to stand and watch my fiancé engage in a sensual, sexually charged kiss with another woman.

I try to turn my head, but I can’t. Literally, physically can’t. Inside, I’m screaming. I’m dying. I’m having a mental Jerry Springer moment where I’ve kicked off my boots, yanking that bitch off the chair by her hair and whipping her ass for kissing my man. But it’s all mental. I can’t do a single thing except watch.

The woman drops her hand from Eli’s chest and lets it drag slowly down his abdomen. He pulls her closer, and her hand moves over his crotch. Eli’s mouth leaves hers and he kisses her throat, and his eyes are hazed and locked on to mine as his mouth tips up in a grin. All the while, Rhine’s music jams the club, and everyone around us is rocking and singing, having a swell time. It’s as if no one else notices that Eli and this woman are nearly having sex, right out in the open. Like no one else sees them but me. Like no one sees me, either. Where the hell is Noah?

What the hell’s wrong with me?

I concentrate. Focus. I stare hard at her, then at Eli. Stop, Eli. Let her the fuck go.

For a split second, something flashes in Eli’s eyes. It’s so fast, and so short-lived I almost question if it really happened. He wraps his arms around her waist and pulls her onto his lap. He’s now sitting on a barstool, and he drops his mouth to her temple. The woman smiles.

Then the smile vanishes. I see nothing but hard, ice-cold hatred in her eyes.

In a blurring motion, she waves one hand in a gesture over the crowd. Her lips move, but I don’t understand the low murmur coming from them.

I feel the movement before I see it. It’s a low-frequency hum that nestles beneath the music, gains tempo, and then just like the sonic boom in the forest, explodes. The windows of Hush 51 blow completely out, sending shards of glass pummeling into the streets. Screams begin penetrating the trance I’m in; lights are flashing and then extinguish. Shadows and the scent of human terror wash over me, and I’m dazed, standing there, paralyzed on the floor. One second, I see the blaze of Eli’s eyes in the dark. The pale white skin of the woman he’s holding.

Her face, completely morphed into full-blown vampire. Incisors twice as long as the rest of her jagged white teeth drop from her gums, and her face extends forward, bones accommodating the change. Her eyes flash bloodred. Dark veins snake across her alabaster skin.

In the next second, amid the crowd’s panic, they’re gone. She, Eli. Vanished.

Slowly, after a few seconds, my paralysis lifts. I shake my head. Even my vision has gone blurry. I shake my head again, and then my shoulders are grabbed and I’m yanked around. I’m shocked to see Rhine standing there, looking down at me. I didn’t realize the kid was that tall.

“You okay, lass?” he says. “You’d best get out of here!”

“I’ve got her,” Noah says, suddenly by my side.

Chaos is all around me. People are running, knocking into me now, and my stupor is slowly vanishing. I glance at Rhine. “Thanks,” I say. “Let’s get these people out of here.”

Patrons are running around, frightened and screaming, and everyone is trying to fit through the narrow, double oak doors of the club. Rhine and his band members have dispersed, trying to calm people, get them to calmly exit the club. It’s not working.

My mind is jumbled. Eli, the woman. She’s a vampire. I know that now. The Hush 51 patrons. Priority seizes my brain, and I push vampires out of my thoughts.

I focus on the human crowd.

Stop!

As if I’d pushed the PAUSE button on a DVD remote, everyone stops in their tracks. I waste no time in hurrying to the front doors. I kick open the props so they both stand wide. After a brief scan of the sidewalk and street, I notice people there have stopped, too. Amazing what a panicky human with tendencies can accomplish.

I run back inside, weaving through the stone-still patrons. Noah’s standing there, right where I left him. Not moving.

Oops.

I grasp his hand, and catch his gaze. Let’s go. I say that only to Noah.

His eyes immediately brighten, and then he scowls. “Yes, ma’am.” He leads the way out of Hush 51, and once we’re back outside, I glance at the patrons behind me, standing in a building that might not be so stable.

Everyone, fall into two single files and walk calmly out through the front doors.

As if a bunch of zombies being commanded by a voodoo priestess, the patrons all fall into two lines inside the club. Slowly, they start moving outside. I see now that they’re not running one another over, stampede-style, so I grasp Noah’s hand and pull.

“Let’s go,” I say.

Now he’s in front of me, pulling me by the hand. “Pretty impressive, Poe,” he says as we run side by side up the street, toward the river walk. “Not even sure I can pull something like that off.” He grins and faces the street. “Human shenanigans never cease to amaze me.”

We’re running down High Street now, and it’s a no-traffic, pedestrian-only road. Most of the businesses are closed for the night, but the streetlights illuminate the paved sidewalks, and the occasional open storefront beams its light’s hue, causing shadows to stretch from sidewalk to sidewalk. The road itself is cobbled, not as old as Edinburgh, I imagine, but still pretty damn old. I’m barely paying any attention to Noah’s comment as we hurry along. I’ve now got only one thing on my mind. Well, two.

Eli and that female vampire.

Who the hell was she? And why does it matter so much to her to see me suffer?

No words are spoken between me and Noah, yet we both know each other so well we’re simultaneously searching the streets, the shadows, for Eli and the female. I home in on movements, too. Shifts in the air. Off-key sound waves that belong to neither a rat, nor a human, nor a hedgehog. I sense nothing.

Not at first.

My mind is working so hard, trying to sense and make sense of what’s just happened, that I now realize we’re at the curving walkway of the river Ness. I stop and stare into the water, its black depths glimmering with shards of light casting down from the streetlamps holding my gaze as I try to ignore the images of Eli embracing, kissing the female. Pain sears my insides. I feel as if someone a lot larger and stronger than me has sucker-punched me in the gut. I physically hurt. It almost doubles me over. I can’t hear anything right now except the cries of my own self–pity party.

“Hey,” Noah says, and he drapes his arm over my shoulders and pulls me against him. His body is hard, not so warm, but not so cold, either. Kinda like Eli’s. It’s weird, getting used to that lukewarm skin. I can feel it through Noah’s clothes, even. Yet I take full comfort in it right now. I slip my arms around his waist and lay my head against his rock of a chest. “Don’t beat yourself up, Poe. Even I was overpowered.” He squeezes me. “That’s one strong bitch. Must be old as dirt.”

I lean back and look at him. “Do you think she’s controlling Eli?”

Noah’s jaw tightens. His eyes are murky in the shadows of the river. “I’m not convinced of that, darlin’. I wish I was.” He sighs and crosses his arms over his chest. “She rendered me powerless back there, along with you. When you stopped, I stopped.” He sighs. “But I could still see. Still hear. Still understand. And what I saw?” I look at him, and he looks down at me and shakes his head. “Damn, Riley. The grin on Dupré’s face, that look in his eye? Even gave me the fucking chills. She’s sick powerful if she can control you, me, and Eli, all at once.”

A wind gusts by, and it strikes my face and makes me squint. It’s chilly, maybe midthirties. I’m not uncomfortable, but I do notice the temperature. Sometimes I miss it, that very humanlike sensation of being frigidly cold and needing to bundle up and stamp my feet for warmth. Miss the absolute hell out of it.

“Something’s wrong, though,” Noah says out of the blue. “I can’t put a finger on it. But I feel like there’s something we’re not seeing.”

“With Eli?” I ask.

He glances at me. “With all of it.” He grabs me gently by my jaw, forcing me to hold his gaze. “I’ve not been dead so long that I don’t remember what it feels like to have your heart trudged on. Even if Dupré is being controlled by that bitch, it still pisses me off. And I’m sorry you have to suffer it. You’ve not been yourself since Edinburgh. Since it happened.” He pulls my face closer, lowers his almost until our noses touch. “I miss the old, sarcastic, mean-ass, smart-ass Riley Poe.”

I miss her, too. It’s something that I just can’t seem to help, though. Everything is darker now, since Edinburgh. Ugly dark. Coming from me, that’s bad, because I’ve seen the shittiest, ugliest dark there is. This tops it. But maybe I’ve let it get to me. In a way I shouldn’t have, I mean. Maybe that’s part of what’s blocking my abilities. I’m so blinded by grief and fury that I’m not using the extent of my tendencies. It’s why that female was able to control me so thoroughly.

Maybe Noah Miles is onto something.

He grins, still obscenely close to my face.

“How come you’ve not even once pulled that satchel off your neck and tried to seduce me?” I ask jokingly. I narrow my gaze and wait for Noah’s wiseass answer.

Instead, he widens his smile, turns my face loose, and fishes out his iPhone. After a few taps, he flips it around and lowers it. My eyes scan the picture fastened there.

Me. Noah. My mouth latched on to his, sucking his face off.

Then it hits me. I remember. The forest, after I’d dragged Eli and Vic out of the realm. Noah had used his oversensual vampire pheromones to lure me back to reality.

He’d saved my life by doing it.

Still. I glare at him, and punch him in the stomach. “Asshole. You had to take a pic of that?” I punch him again. Harder. “You literally took the time to take a pic? I was out of my mind.”

“Ow,” Noah says, ridiculously clutching his stomach. As if that had hurt him. “You don’t sincerely think I’d pass up a photo op like that, do you?”

“Give me that,” I say, and reach for it. He snatches it back. Lifts it out of my reach.

“Oh, hell no, Ms. Poe. Not on your life.” He grins and stuffs his iPhone deep into his pocket. “Technology is a wonderful thing. And I’ve saved it to my hard drive, so stop fretting about deleting it off my cell—”

A sound distracts me, and I hold up my hand to silence Noah. He’s listening now, too, and through the chilled night air, we both strain. I concentrate, breathe deeply, opening my senses. Closing my eyes, I zone out everything and envision my ear canal as a megaphone, siphoning all abstract noises and sharpening them. At once, I snap my gaze beyond the city lights. Up the river and higher. I strain so hard it almost hurts. Then I hear it. The slightest of sounds. It’s a groggy, faint groan. Female.

Human.

And it’s not a groan of pleasure.

I sniff the air, but it’s too far away to tell. I can barely detect where the sound is coming from, and all I can do is start moving in that direction.

“Come on,” I say, and start off at a jog.

Noah’s right beside me.

At once, I stop, turn around, and take off toward the river. Within seconds, I’m at a full run. The moment my boot hits the walkway hugging the river, I leap, over the water, and land in a crouch on the opposite bank. I glance behind me, just in time to see Noah land beside me. I pause and listen for a half second. We’re on the same side of the river as St. Andrew’s, but north of the cathedral. I turn in the direction of St. Andrew’s, and slipping through the shadows, we run. It’s close to two a.m. now, and patrons have thinned and humans are scarce. So the whimpering I’m homing in on, growing louder by the second, worries me. We race up Duncraig Street and turn onto Kenneth, following the human’s groans. I glance at Noah as we run, and I know he hears it now. There’s a cemetery up ahead, the scent of aged decay penetrating my senses and drawing me closer and closer. Fearing to be noticed by anyone simply taking out the trash, I hasten down a dark alley, find my foothold, and leap up to the rooftop. When I glance to my side, Noah’s there. We head across the rooftops, bounding over chimneys and slipping on tiles, until the sound of the human’s heartbeat quickens. The cemetery is there, just ahead, and I pick up speed, leaping down from the roof and landing in a full run. We’re still within the city limits, but the populated areas have thinned. Tomnahurich Cemetery sits on a hillside, and as we hit the single graveled lane within, it starts to wind up the hill from the bottom. I can smell old death, bones, and rotted earth. My eyes search the area in front of me, and although it’s dark out, the pale gray of the headstones stands stark against the blackness of night. Graves reach all the way up to the summit, but the human’s quickened heartbeat pulls me off the path and into the wood. Through the pines and brush we race, and suddenly, I pull up short. On the far side of the hill, I hear it. Gurgling. Choking.

Panicking, I take off, and Noah’s keeping up step for step. I jump up and into the tree limbs overhead, and leap tree to tree to save time. Then, below and ahead, I see them. I see Eli.

And the scene stops my heart.

The female from Hush 51 stands in the clearing. Eli is a few feet away, stone-still.

In the female’s arms is a young woman, the other woman’s mouth latched on to her throat. The girl’s arms dangle, limp and lifeless at her sides. Her body jerks, convulses. Not all the way dead yet.

In the tree, my hand is pressing hard against the rough bark. Noah’s arm goes around my waist and I know he’s doing that to keep me from lunging down. In my heart I know we’re too late.

The woman’s head lifts. Blood trails down her chin. Jesus Christ, it’s a lot of blood. She’s looking dead at me when she smiles. Eli continues to stand, unmoving. Frozen in place.

When my gaze moves back to the female, she throws the human down.

Like trash.