After Dark: Night Eternal, #2

By Melody Taylor

When Ian and Amanda make a trip home to see their parents in Oregon, what was supposed to be an ordinary visit becomes complicated – fast. On top of family drama, old friends making contact, and trying to hide the fact that vampires are real, the resident vampire of Eugene is not happy with their presence and wants Ian and Amanda gone.

 

Ian can tell he's keeping secrets.

 

Neither Ian nor Amanda are interested in prying, but when Ian catches him bullying his girlfriend, she won't stand for it. Confronting him at the wrong time in the wrong place winds up dragging Ian into the middle of a nightmare she would never have imagined.

 

Now Ian has to use every ounce of strength available to her simply to survive – and to save the lives of those around her.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melody Taylor
• Release date: Sep 30, 2016
• ISBN: 9781536540352

Book preview

Prologue

Hello?

Hi, Mom. It’s Ian.

My mom’s voice perked up on the other end of the line. Oh, hi sweetheart. How have you been?

Good, how are you? I picked Gypsy up off my shelf of paints and brushes before she could knock anything over. She didn’t usually climb up there.

Not too bad, Mom said on the phone. Your father won’t take his blood pressure pills like the doctor tells him, and without Amanda here anymore, he’s always out in the yard mowing or raking or what have you. I told him to hire a service, but what do I know?

With Gypsy safely on the floor where she couldn’t do too much damage, I rubbed her head between her ears. "You should just hire a service behind his back. No, I’ll tell you what, I’ll hire a service. Then he can’t fire them without talking to me first." I stood back up and grabbed a marker off my shelf.

Now, Jennifer –

Ian, I corrected her.

She went on like I hadn’t said anything – don’t go wasting your money on something like that. We’ll be fine. You take care of yourself.

A stack of wide, flat wooden crates dominated my studio at the moment. I looked them over and sighed. "Mom, Kent left me a lot of money. I can take care of myself, six orphans, and hire a lawn service for Dad." And ship all these damn heavy crates, I thought to myself, but didn’t say it out loud.

There was a long pause. I knelt beside a crate, going over what I’d said in my mind, trying to pick out what would cause that hesitation.

You’re thinking of adopting an orphan? Mom finally asked.

I had to stop a second myself. Wha – no. No, Mom, I was kidding. I’m trying to say I have enough money. I’d like to help –

If you’ve got so much money, I don’t know why you can’t afford to move back home here. Then you could help out and you wouldn’t have to hire anyone. There’s a nice little house for sale just down the street from us, I could pick up the papers on it and mail them out for you to look at.

Holding the phone with my shoulder, I went on filling out the address label on my first crate. We’re not moving home, Mom. But I did want to talk to you about coming to visit.

Oh?

I’ve got a hanging in the gallery downtown next month –

There’s a gallery downtown?

Yes. It’s a small one, right across from the Downtown Bakery. I tried to move the crate I’d just addressed so I could get to the next one and just about hung up on Mom. I chewed on my marker and tried to see a way I could do the job one-handed, but it wasn’t going to work.

Oh, that place! Mom said. I always thought that was a craft store.

In her defense, Wet Paint did kind of look like a craft store from the outside. It’s a gallery, and they’re hanging my work there next month.

There was another pause from her. It’s not that . . . dark stuff of yours, is it? she asked.

If that question hadn’t exasperated me, I would have laughed. If she knew half the stuff I’d been through, she’d be surprised my art wasn’t darker. All of my stuff is dark, Mom, I said. "You don’t have to go to the opening. I have to go, but I thought it’d be nice if Amanda came with me and we stayed a couple days to visit."

I wish you wouldn’t paint such depressing pictures, Jen.

I shifted the phone to my other ear. Ian.

What if someone I know goes into that gallery? Then I’ll have to explain that my daughter’s not disturbed, she just has a wild imagination, and people will ask what I did to you when you were little to make you turn out so strange.

I looked at the ceiling as if it might offer some kind of help. All I got was the knowledge that I needed to knock a cobweb out of a corner. I decided to leave it. For vampiric effect. That’s what I paint, Mom. And I don’t paint that stuff because of anything you did. Okay? Now, can we come for a visit or not?

I don’t see why not, she said, getting off the subject of my art, anyway. I’ll air out your old bedrooms and pick up some extra things at the grocery store –

You don’t need to do any of that. I shook my head and held up my free hand like she could see me. We’ve got reservations at a hotel, and that includes meals.

Mom made a disapproving sound. You don’t have to stay at a hotel. You can stay here, you know that.

Amanda and I have picked up some really odd hours, Mom, I said. You wouldn’t want us around the house. We’re up all night long these days.

That can’t be healthy, she said. Don’t you ever see the sun?

Not if we can help it.

Another disapproving sound from her end. Well, I don’t know about that. But if you really think you need to stay in a hotel instead of coming home where you belong . . .

I didn’t take the bait. We do.

All right, all right, she said, obviously giving up under protest. So how long will you be in town?

I thought we’d stay about a week or so, if that works. I wasn’t sure that long was a good idea. I didn’t know if we could keep up the pretense of odd hours for a whole week. But we hadn’t seen our parents since the whole incident with Amanda getting murdered. They deserved a good long visit.

If you’re not staying here, it doesn’t matter what I think, does it? Mom said in a snarky tone.

I ignored it and tried to shift the addressed crate again one-handed. It still didn’t want to move for me without making a mess. All right, we’ll see you then. Give both our love to Dad.

I will. You girls try to get up and see some sunlight. You can’t live like that.

That almost made me laugh out loud for so many reasons. No, I guess not, I said. Love you.

I love you, too.

I hung up the phone, rubbing my forehead. Conversations with Mom always seemed to give me a headache. I checked the time on my phone and gave up on my crates for the time being. They needed to get addressed tonight, not right this second. I set my marker back on its shelf and left my studio. Gypsy trotted along behind me.

Amanda raised an eyebrow at me from her spot on the living room couch, electric guitar across her folded legs. How’d that conversation go?

How do you think? Good thing we were going over to Sebastian’s for training in a little while. I wanted to beat something up.

Amanda nodded. Like Mom. She paused, her face turning thoughtful. Sebastian is not going to like this at all.

Tough shit, I said. I could say that now, because Sebastian wasn’t here. We’re going home next month, and that’s that.

Amanda laughed and played a suitably dire riff on her guitar. Something they play in horror movies right when the monster creeps up on the hero.

Stop that, I told her. I’m going to get ready for training.

Still grinning, Amanda kept playing, just working on some of her own music now. I left the living room and headed down to my room in the basement.

We were going home.

One

I waited until after Sebastian had finished pummeling me to tell him. Our training sessions had developed a schedule: first, sparring, which Sebastian always won, unless he was trying to teach me something specific. Then he would stand watch while I did a series of exercises to strengthen my body and hopefully make me a better fighter. After he beat the crap out of me, it was Amanda’s turn.

Not where I had planned to end up when I first came to Seattle, a young art student getting over a broken heart. Of course, I hadn’t planned on meeting a vampire who would become my best friend and offer to turn me. My becoming a vampire had sort of put school by the wayside, and Kent’s murder had set all my ideas about being a vampire right up in flames.

So here I was, standing in the correct posture, waiting for a centuries-old assassin who looked like a gorgeous teen heartthrob to make me miserable with impossible strength training. Joy.

Sebastian looked me up and down once, considering, his icy blue eyes no doubt spotting every fault in my stance. He paused, thinking, and I decided to jump in.

Amanda and I are going back to Eugene next month, I said.

Sebastian looked up to meet my eyes, like a hawk thinking about eating me. Push ups, he said. Against the wall, if you please.

I groaned. When he said push ups, he didn’t mean hands and feet on the floor, plank-position. He meant standing on my hands, my feet resting against the wall for balance, pushing my whole body straight up. He wanted me to be able to do five in a row. I couldn’t get past three. My puny muscles would begin to shake as they tried to do this impossible thing, and I inevitably collapsed down onto my face when they finally failed.

You don’t make Amanda do this, I grumbled, dragging my feet to the wall.

No, Sebastian said. She does not yet have your strength or endurance. Yours has begun to develop, and you would be a fool to let it go unused.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I set my hands on the floor, kicked my feet over my head, and felt them hit the wall. Smack. That doesn’t mean I love doing it.

No, Sebastian agreed. He actually cracked a smile at that, something he’d been doing more of this past year. Part of me liked that he was inching out of his shell; part of me found his humor creepy. Begin, he told me, because if he didn’t, I wouldn’t.

With a sigh, I began lowering myself toward the floor, arms trembling.

I still do not understand why you feel the need to keep contact with your mortal family, Sebastian said, as my nose neared the dark blue mats under me. This insistence of yours has cost one life already, and could cost more.

Hey, I said, pushing myself back up. My voice was strained, but if I stopped even to answer him, he’d give me a solid smack with his staff. That’s a sore subject.

My apologies, Ian, but it is something you must consider. Amanda would not have died had you cut contact with your mortal past when you should have.

I lowered myself down, staring at the blue mats below me. Yes, she would have. Just another fifty or sixty years from now.

And do you believe that becoming a vampire has been better for her than living out her mortal span?

I didn’t answer that. We both knew Amanda had been having a tough time. I pushed back up, reliving the night I’d changed her. The night Kent’s murderers had murdered my sister. Not a fun memory. I concentrated on push-ups.

Will you do the same if something befalls your parents? Sebastian asked. Or do you think you can keep them safer than you did your sister?

I lowered myself. Yes, actually, I do think I can keep them safer. Now I know that if there’s trouble, I need to un-involve my family as quickly as possible. Pushed back up. My arms quavered.

And how will you know if you are in trouble? Sebastian asked. You don’t know how many vampires inhabit Eugene, or who they are. What if one chooses to stalk you, or Amanda? Can you protect your parents? Or save Amanda from a second death?

Down. Eugene’s not huge. I don’t think there are any vampires there. And if there are, I’ll go explain what’s going on, that we’re just there for the week, and we’ll bug off after that. Up.

If there are vampires in Eugene, they will certainly know about you before you know about them. And they may not accept an explanation of any sort. You realize Kent did not tell you everything, that the way he brought you up was sheltered and unusual.

I know, I said, letting my body lower again. I’d heard this song too many times in the last year or so.

Vampires are territorial, and while some may allow you to stay for a week’s visit, others may simply kill you out of hand. Is that honestly a risk you wish to take?

I pushed back up, gritting my teeth. Look, if I spot another vampire, or one tells me to get the hell out of town, I’ll run that night, okay? I’ll tell Mom and Dad there was some sort of emergency back home. I just want to see my parents.

Five, Sebastian said.

I stopped, looking at him upside down from between my arms. Huh?

Five, he repeated. Stop.

I stayed up on my hands, realizing what he meant and feeling pretty damned proud of myself – then my arms gave out and I crashed to the floor. Flat on my face.

Ow, I said.

If you do not like falling, learn not to do it, Sebastian said.

Easy for you to say. I rolled to my feet, rubbing my bruised cheek.

Yes. He crossed his arms and stood in front of me. Ian, you must cut contact with your family at some point. You have only a decade or two left before they begin to wonder why you do not age, and only a few decades left before they pass on entirely. Why do you insist on making this more difficult?

Because I only have a decade or two left, I said.

Sebastian stayed still, arms crossed, meeting my eyes. Then he blinked and looked away. He didn’t say anything, just looked at the wall to his right as if he’d left something really important over there. Then he sighed. If there is any sign of trouble, or another vampire attacks you or demands that you leave, you will do so at once. Agreed?

I already said I would.

Sebastian sighed again, shaking his head this time. Sometimes I wonder at the wisdom of taking you as a pupil. You insist on pushing boundaries and refuse to listen to good advice.

But you love me, right? I asked, smiling now.

Instead of answering, Sebastian stared into my eyes, long and hard. He still had problems with emotional stuff sometimes, but I knew that intense gaze meant yes. I met it and tried to return it, but I knew I didn’t have Sebastian’s years of practice expressing things only with his eyes.

Then he blinked, and the look was gone.

Sit ups, he said. On the beam, please.

I groaned again, but not so much this time. Sit ups meant hanging by my knees, dragging my head up to touch them. Not as hard as the push ups, but still no picnic.

While I got arranged upside down on the bar, Sebastian nodded once to himself.

Now that you have accomplished five push ups, I will expect ten. Begin.

And with that cheerful encouragement, I crunched my abs and reached for my knees.

Two

You packed everything you wanted?

Amanda rolled her eyes and tossed short red bangs out of her face. Her hair had been purple when she first came here a year ago, but she’d let the dye wash out.

And you filled up last night, right? I pressed. I don’t know what feeding will be like at home. We might not get a chance again until we get back.

Yes, Mom, she said back at me.

I grit my teeth. It grated on me when she did that, so of course she did it a lot. Josephine and Sebastian both agreed that was our new relationship, mother and daughter, but Amanda was still my sister to me.

Good, I said. Get in the car.

Did you get the oil changed and put air in the tires? Amanda asked in a snide little voice. She headed for the car at least, her favorite electric guitar slung over one shoulder in its gig bag.

Yes, I said. Of course I did. Do you think I want to break down on the I-5 in the middle of the night? I followed her out of the house and locked the door behind us. Not to protect against any vampires that might want to get in, but against mortal intruders who could do plenty of damage of their own.

Just checking, she said over her shoulder. She settled her guitar in the back seat before getting in the car herself. It’s not breaking down in the middle of the night I’m worried about, anyway.

I know.

It was getting the car and ourselves off the interstate and somewhere safe before the sun came up. That had me a little worried, too. My old Buick was in good shape, low miles, recent tune-up, but still. We were very literally placing our lives on the line by trusting it to get us there without a breakdown. I thought we’d be fine. Really. It was just knowing that breaking down could mean our deaths that had me nervous.

If all else fails, Sebastian had told me, call me and then lock yourselves in the trunk.

As back-up plans went, it was pretty uninspiring.

I got in on my side, buckled in, and started the car. Committed now. Time to go home.

I backed out of the driveway and headed out, wondering if this was the best idea in the whole wide world.

You nervous? I asked Amanda. A heavy guitar riff interrupted me, muffled, but not enough I couldn’t hear it.

Amanda smiled apologetically at me and pointed to her ears, where white earbuds protruded. Can’t hear you, she said, in the too-loud voice of someone who can’t hear themselves.

My shoulders dropped. She looked away from me, out the window, tapping her hands against her knees to the beat.

Okay. Fine.

I sighed and focused on driving. I had wanted to ask how Amanda felt going home for the first time in a year, if she was nervous about talking to Mom and Dad now that she had fangs and a thirst for blood. I wanted to tell her about how it was when I first came home, slips I made that no one seemed to notice, how badly I wanted to tell everyone the truth, how scared I was they might figure it out. Apparently, she wasn’t into talking at the moment.

Plugging my own MP3 player into the car stereo, I let Amanda be. She frowned and turned the volume up on her headphones when my music started, but aside from that, she ignored me. I sang along with Nine Inch Nails and pretended it didn’t hurt.

The drive was a pretty simple one; hook up with I-5 and head south till you hit Eugene. It usually took about four hours – it had taken me longer once, when I’d had to stop for snacks and bathroom breaks. I set the cruise control once we got on the interstate and let my mind wander, keeping one eye on the road. I thought about some paintings I had in the works, about the show I had coming up, about Mom’s comment about my dark art. I was curious to see if she and Dad would come to the show. Probably. Dad would say the paintings were very nice, Mom would not say anything about them, and they would leave early. But they would show up. Thank goodness my parents didn’t represent the entire art world of Eugene.

I wondered if I would see anyone I knew from growing up in Eugene. Most likely not. Most of them had moved away to go to college and hadn’t come back. No one I might want to talk to had come back, anyway. Maybe Amanda would see someone she knew. Well, no. Probably not. She had been looking at colleges when she came to visit me and ended up staying. Most of her friends had probably gone now, too.

Sebastian says this is a bad idea, Amanda said.

Her voice startled me out of my thoughts. I jumped, then reached over and turned the stereo down. Huh?

Sebastian told me he thought this was a bad idea, she repeated. She had taken the earbuds out of her ears.

Sebastian is very old, I said. He doesn’t really remember what it was like to still have family.

He didn’t have any family left when he got turned, Amanda told me, like I didn’t know it.

No, I agreed. I didn’t know what else to say to that, so I stayed quiet, waiting for her to say more.

I don’t know if I think this is a good idea, either, she said after a pause.

I resisted frowning. Why?

Amanda shrugged. We have to break ties with them sometime. We can’t be around for the rest of their lives or things are going to start getting weird.

Then why are you coming with me?

"Because I know you," she said.

Now I did frown. What does that mean?

Amanda sighed. If I said I didn’t want to come with you and see Mom and Dad, you would’ve gone all weepy and melodramatic on me until I said yes.

Weepy and melodramatic? I’d never heard anyone describe me that way. Was I?

She leveled me with a serious look. You know you are, Ian. ‘Oh, Amanda, don’t say you don’t want to see your parents. You’ll regret it in another century if you don’t.’

You don’t think you will?

With another shrug, Amanda turned back to the window. I doubt I’ll remember their names in another century.

Amanda! I couldn’t even believe she’d think such a thing, let alone say it out loud. Did she really believe that? Had becoming a vampire changed her this much?

She didn’t answer. I waited for a minute, mouth hanging open, then shook my head. I can’t believe you said that.

Another shrug.

Why do you think that? Sebastian still remembers his parents, his wife. Josephine remembers her family. They still care about the people they knew when they were alive. Why wouldn’t you?

Shrug.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. Fine then. If you really don’t want to see Mom and Dad, you can stay in the hotel for the whole week. I’ll tell them you got sick and had to stay home. But I want to see them, and I’m going to.

Amanda stuck her earbuds back in her ears and hit the play button. A heavy drumbeat thudded out from the sides of her head. I wanted to tell her she’d go deaf if she kept listening to her music that loud, but even if she did, it would heal while she slept during the day. I almost said it anyway.

She tapped her hands against her legs in time to the drumbeat, mouthing the words. I sighed and turned my own music back up.

She couldn’t really believe she’d forget our parents’ names in another hundred years. That was ridiculous. She had Josephine and Sebastian both as mentors, and neither of them had ever said anything so callous about their mortal loved ones. Sebastian still rarely talked about Sarah, but he did talk about her, as well as his parents, whose names he did indeed remember. Josephine’s family still owned a mansion in England, their former noble title a historical fact but no longer used. She went back from time to time to visit great-great-great nieces and nephews, people who didn’t even know Josephine was related to them. Where would Amanda have picked up this attitude?

And what the hell did she mean by me getting weepy and melodramatic? When did I do that? Would someone else agree with her?

The entire conversation was mind-boggling. I kept running it over in my head, worrying. Should I have said something different, should I have reined in my reaction a little better, would anything I did or said make any difference to her at all?

The volume on the car stereo went way down. I looked over from the road and saw Amanda with her hand on the volume knob, her earbuds dangling from her other hand. It had been almost an hour since we’d spoken.

Are you nervous? she asked.

I blinked. Then got over my surprise at the question and shrugged. A little. I’ve been doing this for a few years now. I was more nervous the first time I went back.

She nodded, watching out the windshield. Yeah. She went quiet a minute, then looked over at me again. What about your opening? Are you nervous about that?

I gave a short laugh that wasn’t really amused. Sort of yes and sort of no. I’m starting to get used to them, and I know my name is getting out there. But this is my first show out of state. No one in Eugene has heard of me, and they don’t know that one of the biggest art critics in Seattle said I had promise. I don’t know who’s gonna come to the show or what they’ll think.

People will come, Amanda assured me. And the artsy ones will know all about whatever the critics in Seattle think of you. What do you think Mom and Dad will think?

I laughed out loud at that. They’ll hate it.

Amanda laughed, too. Yeah they will. But don’t listen to them, okay? You’re really good, Ian. Don’t let Mom and Dad hang you up.

You either, I said back. Her band had started getting some pretty good shows, playing a lot of their original stuff to a crowd that wanted to hear it. Mom and Dad tried to be supportive, but they didn’t like Amanda’s music any more than they liked my art. Even though they tried to hide it, they were embarrassed by both sometimes.

I know. If we ever book a gig in Eugene, I’m not telling them about it. I might stop in and visit, but I won’t tell them I’ve got a show.

I smiled, but it didn’t last. You’d visit? Even though you think we need to cut ties?

Amanda shrugged at that, then looked out her window. She didn’t say anything for a minute. I wondered if she’d decided not to speak to me again, thought about turning the stereo up, wished she wouldn’t shut me out like that –

It seems like that would be easier, sometimes, she said finally, her voice small.

I glanced over at her and didn’t say anything.

I don’t want to watch them get old, she said. I don’t want to go to their funerals, still looking like I’m twenty and not being able to tell anyone there who I am. I don’t want to have to hide from them.

I know.

She didn’t go on. I waited, silent, but she still didn’t say anything. I cleared my throat. I know it’s not easy, I started.

She cut me off. Kent asked you before he did it. Her voice was quiet, but her tone was sharp. I winced.

There was nothing else I could say to that.

After a few more minutes of silence, Amanda put her earbuds back in. I thought about turning my own music back up, then didn’t. I listened to the tires against the pavement and the low murmur of Amanda’s earbuds, and drove.

Two hours later I took the downtown exit into Eugene.

Three

Eugene had changed a little since the last time I visited. Not much. Some of the streets had been rerouted, some new trees planted, some of the old buildings razed. Most of the same businesses were still there, most of the same houses. The bar and club scene was still all centered around the same small spot, and it still wasn’t as big as Seattle’s Pike Pine corridor. Definitely not safe feeding grounds for two hungry vampires. Not for long, anyway. I could grab a snack here without notice, but I’d have to keep it quick, clean, and infrequent. I drove past and down the street to the hotel. It was close enough to the bars and clubs that guests could go out and find some fun and still manage to stumble back to their rooms, but far enough away that people who didn’t like that kind of fun wouldn’t be bothered. Good enough for me.

I pulled into the parking lot, killed the engine, and glanced down at my watch. After midnight. Too late to do much but get settled into our room and sit around. Maybe go for a walk to stretch out after spending the last four hours in the car.

Amanda got out and opened the back door to pull out her overnight bags. Before I could get out and do the same, she’d shut the car door and started for the entrance of the hotel. I sighed, then got out and got my stuff. It had started to rain as we came into town, making me glad I hadn’t worn anything nicer than jeans and a T-shirt. My outfit for the opening was not crumpled up and stuffed into an overnight bag; it was hanging on a hanger and covered with plastic, just back from a trip to the dry-cleaners. So the only thing that got wet on the way into the hotel was me.

Inside, I found Amanda waiting, slouched against a marble pillar with her bags at her feet. The reservation was in my name, so she couldn’t check in.

It’s nice to see some real rain, not that pathetic drizzle we get up north all the time, she said, nodding out the glass doors.

I glanced over my shoulder, then shrugged and headed for the front desk.

Seriously, Amanda went on, grabbing her bags and following me. "I don’t know why we live there when we could live anywhere else in the whole damn world. I know Kent came for the music, but Seattle’s not even really where the music’s at anymore. Why are we staying?"

I like it there, I said, and turned to the front desk guy. Ian? I asked for room away from where other guests are staying. We’ll be up all night, every night, and she’ll probably be banging away on that thing. I tilted my head at Amanda’s guitar.

Of course. The attendant pointed out the elevators and gave us our keys.

I took the keys and headed off. Amanda made a noise behind me as she followed.

It’s an electric and I didn’t bring my amp, she said. I doubt if anyone could hear me playing out in the hall.

I shrugged. Just wanted to be sure.

Amanda made another noise. So anyway, like I was saying, why don’t we move somewhere else? Europe or Canada or India or any place other than Seattle?

I got onto the elevator and gave Amanda a look as she joined me. Do you want to chance running into the pack if we leave?

She went quiet, then shrugged. Sebastian would come with us.

I raised an eyebrow. Which would mean Josephine coming with us, too. I think they both like Seattle. And so do I.

With a sigh, Amanda mumbled something about not wanting to leave her band anyway and let it drop.

The elevator let us out on the third floor and we found our room easily. If sound was any indicator, we were the only people in this whole wing of the hotel. I’d have to find out who’d booked us in and leave them a fat tip before we left.

Amanda dropped her bags on the floor and threw herself onto one of the beds, grabbed the remote and flipped on the TV. I took my dress for the opening and hung it in the closet, listening to her surf through channels.

I thought you didn’t like television, I said, turning around to see what she’d settled on. A cartoon. Not anything I recognized from when I was a kid.

I don’t, she said.

I frowned, opened my mouth to ask what she was doing watching it, then closed my mouth and let the question go. It hardly mattered. And after four hours in the car, I wasn’t going to begrudge her some time to zone out.

I’m going for a walk, I said. You need anything while I’m out?

A love slave, she muttered, eyes on the TV.

What about Angelo? I asked, smiling to take the sting out of the joke.

It didn’t work. Amanda shot me a dirty glare. I put both hands up in defense. She went back to the TV after a good second of glaring. I dropped my hands and didn’t put my foot any further in my mouth. She’d developed a crush on Angelo after they’d started up a new band, and hadn’t had the guts to talk to him about it yet. It didn’t help that every time humans came up, both Sebastian and I started harping on Amanda about how a relationship wasn’t such a good idea. Mortals and vampires didn’t mix. Then Josephine would offer a different opinion, and pretty soon we’d all be arguing about Amanda’s non-existent love-life and what she should or shouldn’t do about it . . . I knew that got on her nerves, but I couldn’t seem to stop it from happening.

I shut up about Angelo, then put both key cards for the room in my pocket. I’m leaving. I have both the keys, so don’t go anywhere or you won’t be able to get back in. Is your phone charged?

Amanda nodded without looking at me, which made me want to scream. Instead I leaned over and grabbed her phone out of her pocket, despite the eye-roll I knew I was going to get, and thumbed it on. The battery was at slightly less than half.

Please don’t let the charge get so low, I said, for what felt like the hundredth time. I need you to be able to call me if anything happens. I went to her bag, found her charger, and plugged her phone in for her, making sure she saw where I set it.

She nodded again, still without looking at me. It had taken me months before I felt like I could let her out of my sight after the incident with the pack last year, fully charged phone or not. She acted like I never let her alone at all. Rather than fight about that – again – I left her phone on the table and let myself out of the room.

Turning Amanda into a vampire had been an emergency decision. There hadn’t been any time to think about how she would take it, and when I did have a moment to stop and wonder, I’d crossed my fingers and refused to worry. When she first started to realize what had happened and what she was, I began to figure out that her change wasn’t going to go smoothly. But this? This second teenage thing she was going through? I had not anticipated that, and I didn’t know what to do now that it was happening. Josephine kept telling me it would pass. All I could do was sigh and hope Josephine was right.

The rain had come to a stop, making it a lovely night for a walk. I set out and did my best to enjoy it without worrying about Amanda. I thought about my art, and the opening tomorrow, nervous about who would show up, how it would go. The place I was showing wasn’t the hottest spot in the art world, but it wasn’t small potatoes, either. A local critic or two might show up, and maybe a few collectors, if any of my Seattle fame had traveled down here. I hoped I brought the right dress for the event. Josephine had helped me pick it out, and I loved it, but I still worried.

I hoped Gypsy would be okay by herself at home. I wondered what Josephine and Sebastian would do without Amanda and me for a week. Really, I hoped that Amanda and I could get along without them. Sebastian had made me promise to keep up my practice while I was away, Amanda, too, but it wouldn’t be the same without him ordering me to do push ups or shouting at me to do better.

I headed downtown towards the bar and club scene, for no real reason I could think of. It was loud and colorful and full of people, so maybe that was enough of a reason to head over that way. And while I wasn’t hungry and planned on trying not to feed while we were here, it didn’t seem like a bad idea to take in the lay of the land and see where I might catch a bite if I needed to.

The rain letting up had given a lot of people the same idea as me, out and about in the warm fall weather. Several bars and restaurants had seating outdoors on the sidewalks with big awnings or even tents, and the tables under those shelters were crowded with noise, talking, laughing, music. People ate and drank and smoked, moved from shelter to shelter or stayed put. Being a Thursday, the crowd was less than it would be on Friday and Saturday. There were still plenty of people.

I didn’t stop anywhere, just walked, stretching my legs after the long trip in the car, remembering hanging out down here as a teenager, noticing which businesses were still open, which had closed, what sort of people came here now. I walked for quite a while, looping back and forth through the several blocks that had the most activity.

When I passed one particular restaurant, I didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary at first. There was a crowd of people under the awning on the sidewalk, all chatting and involved in their own evening. By the time I made my third loop past, one man stopped what he was doing very suddenly as I approached, his eyes locked on me. The woman at the table with him turned to see what had his attention. I wasn’t sure myself, so I just gave a polite smile and kept on walking.

He stood and followed me.

I ignored him. I didn’t even bother to look over my shoulder at him. I could handle one guy by myself if he meant trouble. My glance as I’d passed told me he was tall, thin, early twenties, and dressed in a slightly expensive suit with handsome, aquiline features beneath a long tumble of auburn curls. Certainly nice to look at, but not anyone I knew. I wasn’t sure what his problem was, but the pricey suit at least meant he probably wasn’t interested in mugging me.

As I headed down the block and away from most of the activity, a hand landed on my shoulder. I tried to shrug it off, slide out from under his fingers before he could get any kind of grip. Two things stopped me: He was strong, grabbing my shoulder in a grip that I couldn’t simply slide out of. And he was cold. His hand did not give off the type of heat I expected when a human touched me.

What the –

I stopped and spun, bringing my fist up to knock his hand off my shoulder. It worked, and I watched his hazel eyes flash in surprise and dismay as he lost hold of me. Not a metaphorical flash of emotion, but a genuine flash, like an animal caught in headlights. I saw it and recognized what it meant almost instantly. I wanted to smack myself.

A vampire.

Shit.

My shoulders tightened. I tried to force my hands down, concentrating on a small smile and a submissive pose. I also stood my ground. Telling him with my body that I meant no harm, but I wasn’t leaving. And he told me with his that he didn’t want me here.

He took a step closer, though he didn’t touch me again. He stopped less than a foot away from me, trying to crowd me out with his presence. I kept my smile plastered to my face and stayed put. I was tempted to brush against him and read his emotions, but decided that not only was that unwise, he wasn’t really hiding them.

And who exactly are you? he demanded. His voice was a smooth soprano; I’d have loved to hear him sing. He also had the faintest accent, something European I thought, though it was too faint for me to pick out which country. An immigrant, but one who’d been in the States a while.

His nostrils flared delicately when he spoke, which made me think he was a very passionate man. I found myself giving him a coy smile before I realized it. His lips tightened when I did, but letting go of the smile would be backing down, so I kept it on.

I’m Ian, I said, and stuck out my hand. He looked down at my hand then back up at my face. Not going to shake.

What are you doing here? This city is mine. He said it like there was a sign posted somewhere that I had neglected to read. People were looking at us, but no one stopped to watch or listen.

I’m sorry, I said, not in a very sorry tone. I didn’t realize there were any others here. I’m just here for an art opening, and –

Art opening? he interrupted. Where?

I kept my smile on. At the Wet Paint gallery, over on Grant Avenue. Have you heard of it?

The muscles in his jaw shifted as he grit his teeth. Ian, he said.

I nodded.

He sighed. I’d planned on attending.

Oh, wonderful! I said. Are you an art enthusiast?

He sighed again, but his posture went from aggressive to simply uncomfortable. Yes. I hadn’t realized when I’d read about your show that you were . . . a blood relation.

I laughed. ‘Blood relation.’ I like that. Well, I didn’t know I had any blood relations here, or I would have called ahead and made arrangements. I hope you don’t mind?

How long will you be staying?

About a week, I