Because the Night

By Nicole Vlachos

Tristan went looking for trouble and ended up with more than she bargained for. A night on the town goes awry when a local Dallas girl runs afoul of a vacationing coven of vampires, who have come up with a novel way to ensure a blood link to join them all together. When going home is no longer an option, Tristan finds herself trapped in a world of non-stop sex and violence, and struggles to find her place and balance her own morality against the nature of the beast she has become.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Black Bed Sheet Books
• Release date: Feb 28, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370177257

Nicole Vlachos

Nicole Vlachos was born in Baltimore and raised in rural Pennsylvania, though she's certain she was British in a former life. Her attraction to the dark side began when she was very young, introduced to Dracula and The Wolfman by her father, then discovering other dark delights on her own as she grew up. Now she takes her inspiration from music, movies and modern supernatural culture, never forgetting the classics that she cut her fangs on. Nicole currently resides in Florida.

Book preview

Because

the

Night

Nicole Vlachos

A Black Bed Sheet/Diverse Media Book

October 2013

Copyright © 2013 Nicole Vlachos

All rights reserved.

Cover and art design by Nicholas Grabowsky

Copyright © 2013 Nicholas Grabowsky

and Black Bed Sheet Books.

The selections in this book are works of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

ISBN-10: 0615906230

ISBN-13: 978-0615906232

Because the Night

A Black Bed Sheet/Diverse Media Book

Antelope, CA

This book is for my love, my heart, Justin Jordan. Thank you for loving me, just as I am.

To Lane, who once again saved my hide with her talent, candor and expertise. You make my life too easy!

To Verna, my mom. It's been a rough year, but we are coming out on the other side of it now. All my love.

To Justin, who helps me through the stress of living and keeps me on the path to creativity and success. Without you, I would have nothing!

Because the Night

Nicole Vlachos

CHAPTER 1

At seventy miles per hour the lights on the highway were flashing past, leaving trailers in Tristan’s eyes.  She gave the car more gas, pressing down on the accelerator, and smiled darkly.  The Dallas skyline loomed before her and the late night traffic carried her along like an anonymous ant, speeding toward some great picnic. 

Exiting Commerce Street, she slowed for the first traffic signal and waited for the red to blink off to the green, then hummed her way into the club district of Deep Ellum.  She was in a mood, and for once—just this once--she was going to let the mood have its way. Closer to midnight on a Saturday it was hard to find a parking space, and Tristan ended up with a bit of a trek down to the ground zero of the little city space. Loathe as she was to admit it, the mood was lifting with every break in the sidewalk and the fingers of fear that skated up her spine at the mouth of every alley.  She passed several dark lots between buildings and huddled closer to herself, picking up speed to get beyond the voices that called from those spaces.  Finally she was in the light and she ducked into the first open door, darting inside the Sweet Endings shop to safety from the unseen where she ordered a lemon bar and a coffee. Not exactly the stuff to carry a mood.

She was the only warm body in the shop, save for the counter girl, who smiled at her over the cash register.  Tristan smiled back gratefully. The bravery that anger and hurt had temporarily afforded her were gone, and now all there was to do was hope for a sugar rush and a caffeine high. Taking a mug from the pyramid balanced at the end of the pastry counter, she poured herself some coffee, grabbed a fork and napkin and then a seat. A mouth full of sweet, she rolled her eyes, with the bitter realization that she would have to walk back to the car eventually.  Maybe she could spend a few hours eating the lemon bar?  Maybe she could eat lemon bar until the sun came up.

Actually the lemon bar only lasted five minutes, and then she was left stirring the spoon in her coffee and staring out the glass panes of the shop at the people passing by.  Distracted for a time by a magnetic poetry puzzle, Tristan's attention was jerked to the door when the customer bells jangled. Righting herself from the nervous jump she’d made, she found herself staring at a small group of smiling faces and cheerful laughter.

It was a beautiful group of five: four men and one woman. There was a bit of the salt and pepper shaker to them, with two very tall, and two average men, one of each fair and blond, with a matching dark-haired, dark-eyed mate beside him.  Not for nothing, they all looked like works of art to boot. The woman was as tall as the shorter men, and just as breathtaking. She started Tristan with a smile from beneath a fringe of black hair that framed China blue eyes.

Tristan smiled back tightly, then turned her eyes down to the poetry box once more, a blush flooding her whole face.  Clearly, she’d been caught out staring, and staring at group when you were alone was a little street urchin at the candy shop window. Embarrassing.

The quintet gave her no further notice, ordering their desserts before sliding two tables together and shuffling around to find a suitable number of chairs.  It was a small establishment, so there were only a few feet separating the little party from the lone diner, and Tristan could not help herself from sneaking glances at them as she sipped the dregs of her drink.  Finally she got up and refilled her mug, giving herself a good look at the group on her way back to her seat.

They were all extremely attractive. The woman was pale and slender; fit, but not reedy.  She looked sculpted of marble—something you’d find in the Lourve.  One of her milky arms was circled with a silver band, exposed by the sleeveless black top she wore.  Her hair was blunt cut and shimmering.  It was blue-black and hung to the top of the chair back where she sat, reminding Tristan of Betty Page, or at least of Betty Page admirers.  At any rate she fit in very well with the gothic stylings of the men.

The tall brunette and the shorter blond were both almost too thin and ridiculously beautiful.  Closer now, Tristan could see that the blonde's eyes were green and almond shaped.  They were pale and Byronic, and so graceful it had to have been practiced.  Long, slender fingers held their cheap mugs like porcelain, and Tristan caught her breath at the flicking pink tongues, catching of brownie crumbs from the tips of them.  The dark eyed one was exquisite, with a perfectly squared chin and jaw line that edged down from high cheekbones and a slender, aquiline nose to full red lips, his chestnut hair was pulled back in a stubby ponytail, loose wisps curling under his jaw. The blond was very similar, but more delicate, with a feline fragility to the shaggy style framing his heart shaped face.

When she sat down again she had a better view of the other two men, who sat at the opposite side.  They were as good looking, but could not have been more different.  Still fashionably pale, these men were classically handsome. Old Hollywood handsome. Rugged and masculine, without a whiff of delicacy. 

That blond one, whose hair waved and curled, kicking out behind his hears, laughed loudly at something said by the pretty, tall dark one. He had deep blue eyes and slight cleft in his chin, making his youthful round face something roguish. He wagged thick, dark blond eyebrows as he talked.  The man to his left was less animated, sitting still with his hand on the woman’s knee. 

His dark hair was cut short and clean and though his handsome face was quiet, his eyes sparkled with wit.  The woman leaned into him regularly as they spoke, and Tristan decided they were together.  She looked quickly away when the tall blond one caught her gazing, and busied herself with the doctoring of her new cup of coffee.

Even with them cut off from view, Tristan was wooed by the sounds of their conversation.  The men were English from their accents, and the woman possibly American, or something less foreign.  At any rate, they were all happy in a slow, lazy way and a honeyed warmth spread from their table to Tristan's.

When she began to feel ridiculous just sitting there alone, she pulled her purse strap up over her shoulder, groaning inwardly. She was going to have to walk past their perfection to make the door, and she had a strong feeling they weren’t going to be as enamored of her. The outfit she'd chosen in the throes of her mood now felt loud and overstated in light of the simple and elegant lines of black silk that the lovely group wore.  She’d poured herself into black vinyl pants and red cropped t-shirt because that seemed to serve Paul right.  Loud, yes, and overstated, just like the girl she’d found him with. Now she was wishing for her jeans and a t-shirt.  She hoped she could slink out quickly and insert herself into the relative facelessness of one of the clubs.

Dropped something, halted her midstep, however, and Tristan turned back to see the shorter blond man holding a business card.

Oh, she said, feeling her brow knit with confusion, I don't think that's mine.

No? he smiled, waving it slightly, extending his reach, well, it is now.

Tristan smiled warily and took the card from him as if it might bite her, not in the least relieved by his twinkling eyes.  Um, thanks, she said, then started off into the night.

When the door jangled shut, he turned back to the rest of the table.  Think she'll go to the address?  The taller blond asked.

Doubtful, laughed the woman.  She probably won't even read it.  Besides, she just went in there.  She pointed to a black awning-laced club opposite the sweet shop.

The tall brunette craned his neck to look over at the place, Looks posh. He said, noting the shiny black lacquer door, and the doorman standing close to a matching podium. Couldn't hurt to go have a look. Might prove entertaining.

Want to scare her off so soon? The woman asked, giving her companion a small smirk.

Of course not, he snorted, "just thought it might be fun to watch her reaction. Besides, if we spend one more night sitting round in a coffee shop, I'll kill someone. Let's do something."

You killed someone last night, the tall blond reminded with a shrug, but I'm up for a bit of fun. Stalking is always fun.  I like playing with them.

I'm up for it, too, the slighter blond nodded.

Gregor?  he asked the other dark eyed one.

Sure. Why not? he agreed, a slow smile teasing his mouth. Sounds like fun.

The five stood up, chairs scraping the black and white tiled floor, then they filed out the door to the corner, chattering animatedly as they waited for the crossing sign to change.  They hurried across the street, then waited again to cross to the club entrance.

ID, please, the bouncer smiled congenially as they reached the door.

ID this, The tall blond said snidely.  The valet that stood at the podium looked back as the bouncer let out a yelp, but everything seemed normal.

You okay, man? The valet asked.

Yeah, the bouncer nodded.

The small party had slipped inside unnoticed, all giggling.  They won't even remember we were at the door, the blond grinned.

Be careful, Lucien, said the shorter one. We were trying not to attract too much attention, remember?  We're on holiday.

But that's boring, Nick, Lucien replied, shrugging distractedly as he surveyed their surroundings. What good is having the powers, if you never get to use them? Besides, how can we attract attention when no one will even remember our passing?

He's right, the other tall one nodded.

Bugger off, John, Nick said amicably.  So do you see her?

No, but I see them.  John pointed off to a corner where two other men sat, then he waved.

"What are they doing here?" Lucien groaned.

Didn't we leave them behind in Brussels?

Rupert lives here now, Gregor supplied, waving also.  Jameson's probably on a visit.

Oh, there she is! Nick said, nodding as the girl from Sweet Endings appeared, stepping out of the ladies room.  She looked distinctly uncomfortable and was probably regretting whatever it was that had driven her down to the district alone. Think she's nursing a broken heart?

She definitely looks out of sorts, doesn't she? Lucien replied, as they all tracked her progress through the crowd. This is going to be easier than we thought.

Well what are we doing with her? Gregor asked.  I'm not hungry.  Valen?

Not me, the woman shook her head.

Well, we welcome her into our little group, play with her a while, then scare the hell out of her, Nick suggested.  Couldn't we?  We don't necessarily have to kill her.

Oh yes, I remember how it goes now, Valen nodded, We draw her in, entertain her lonely heart, and then terrorize her with revelation...

Right, John agreed, Worked on you, didn't it?

Yes, it did...but you didn't just let me go in the end. It never works out that way.

Are you complaining? Gregor asked, slipping an arm around her waist.

Not at all, Valen purred at him, and then raised her eyes to look at the others. I'm just saying that we either kill her, or keep her, when we're done playing with her. Think that over before this really starts.

He's not thinking it over, Lucien noted, jerking his thumb at Rupert, who had vacated his seat, and was sidling up to the girl at the bar.

She had ordered something non-alcoholic and was twiddling with the straw.  As Rupert approached she looked up, then back down, seeming to think he had only neared to order a drink.

The party of five moved in close enough to hear him say, Hello.  I'm Rupert.

She blinked up at him and smiled slightly.  Hi.  I'm Tristan.

Lovely name, Rupert smiled widely, his dark eyes crinkling with the expression. I noticed you were alone.  Why don't you come join me and my friend?

The others watched her blush, jabbing her straw into the ice in her glass as she regarded him carefully, then shake her head. Thanks, but I'm fine right here. She said, offering her would-be admirer a tentative smile.

Lucien and John parted from the rest, each moving a distance away and then towards the bar, while Nick continued on the direct course, stepping up behind Rupert. Still having no luck with the ladies, I see. The slight, blond vampire said, dryly, drawing Tristan's attention as Lucien and John closed in from either side.

She bit her lips to hide the sudden grin that flashed across her face, blushing just as suddenly.  John winked to Lucien and got a nod in return.  This poof bothering you, Love? drew her eyes up from her glass and John was rewarded with another flush of crimson that painted the bridge of her nose and cheekbones.

No bother, she said in a blood warmed voice, and seemed to want to say more, but shied and looked back down into her melting ice.

Good, John smiled, leaning in conspiratorially. He'll talk your ear off, if you let him--tends to suck the life right out of you, poor sod.

She laughed nervously and Rupert rolled his eyes.  Yeah, you're so much better about that, aren't you, John?  He raised an eyebrow and indicated John with a tilt of his glass, That one is utterly draining.

Good Lord, let the poor girl breathe, Valen said, releasing Gregor's hand and moving to lean against the bar, tossing her black hair over her shoulder. She ordered a drink and smiled down at Tristan, who had looked away from the men surrounding her. You'll have to excuse them. It's that territorial thing, you know? They see a pretty girl, then spend way too much time acting like idiots just to get her to talk to them. Men. She snorted, taking the offered glass from the bartender and swiveling her hips so that she was facing the crowd.

Tristan gave an assenting, if still wary laugh, cleared her throat and made something that sounded like an excuse before slipping out from between the onslaught of seeming admirers to wedge herself into a booth on the opposite side of the club.

Well great, Rupert scolded as Jameson joined them, so you just run her off completely?  I haven't eaten yet tonight and it's nearly 2.  That's last call, then she'll be out of here.

Who knew Valen was so scary? Nick teased, nudging the woman, Probably thought you were trying to pick her up as well. He looked over at where Tristan now sat and tilted his head.  She was apple-cheeked and pretty with a smattering of freckles across the bridge of her small, turned-up nose.  Absolutely she was a sweet little slice of Americana with cupid bow lips, loose blond curls, and big, blue eyes.  Do they come anymore contrived than that look, he mused aloud.

She's a walking Norman Rockwell.

Rockwell never painted anything in vinyl, John said smartly.  She could be a Rockwell gone bad.

Not having much success at being bad if you ask me, Valen said, her voice thick and drowsy with something feral.  Seems to me as though she came out looking for trouble, then decided halfway through that eating too many sweets was as much trouble as she could handle.

I think we should leave her for the moment. Gregor said, looking over his shoulder at Tristan, who was even now trying to pretend she wasn't really watching them watching her. She's intrigued, and she's got the address. It will be so much better if she comes to us.

This address? Rupert smiled innocently holding up the little card that Tristan had lain beside her glass. I don't think she'll be able to make it.

Before Gregor could answer, Nick was already over and had slid into the booth opposite the girl, taking up conversation with her slowly.  After they had spoken a bit he got up and headed back to his group.  

I'm going to walk Tristan back to her car, he beamed victoriously.  Poor thing parked two blocks away and this is not a neighborhood she should be walking alone.  Anyone else coming?

I'll go, Lucien said, giving Rupert a smirk. See you round, mate.

Valen draped her arms over Gregor's shoulders, pressing her body into his, smiling at the departing males. Don't scare her, you two...you'll spoil all the fun, she purred, her eyes glittering.

Don't worry, Nick replied, looking back. This is only the beginning.

Right, Lucien nodded, placing his glass on the bar. Let the games begin.

John was giggling under his hand as Lucien and Nick turned to go.  I think she's smarter than she looks, he said, noting the stunned expressions his two counterparts wore as they turned and found her seat vacant.  She's just gone out the door without you, and if she's got half a brain she's running like mad.

Nick cursed and his green eyes narrowed as Lucien growled quietly.  Gregor chuckled and bent his head to Valen's neck, planting a light kiss there.  Easy come, easy go.

Why didn't you tell us that she was leaving? Nick growled at John, who was still snickering at them.

Aw, what’s the matter, humanity got you down? The taller man teased. Can't figure a way to track her? Too bad you aren't a vampire, eh?

Bugger off, Nick scowled, following Lucien, who was already at the door.

Want to go watch? Gregor asked Valen, quietly.  You know it's bound to be entertaining.

Oh yes, she nodded, And after they're done bumbling around, we can steal her away. She kissed him with a promise of more and pulled away, leading through the clearing crowd to catch up with the others.

CHAPTER 2

Tristan had not run like mad, but she was walking away very swiftly, visions of serial killers dancing through her head as she made her way back to her car.  With a nightmarish clarity she realized that she was being followed and she picked up her pace.

The streets were quiet by that time, all the traffic signals blinking on caution. The catcalls that had chased her into Sweet Endings had gone silent, but the chills that ran her spine were doubling with every step.  She stumbled over a crack in the pavement, tripping forward to catch her balance on a street lamp when Nick chose to reveal his voice.

Hey, Tristan, he called, wait up.  Lucien and I were going to walk with you.

That's okay. Thanks, though, She called back, pushing off the pole to return to her brisk pace, pulling her keys from her bag and fanning them between her fingers. With only a slight pause to look behind her, Tristan reached the parking lot and spotted her car, washed in the halogen glow of the security light. She fought the urge to break into a full run, calmed slightly by the fact that she heard no footsteps behind her, but moved deliberately towards her car.

Remembering all the precautions she'd ever learned about walking alone late at night, she tuned her ears for every sound, and kept her head up, glancing around in all directions. About thirty feet from the safety of her Honda Civic, Tristan heard distant laughter erupt behind her and turned to look back, even as she kept advancing towards the car. When she didn't see anyone moving in the shadows or under the lights of the parking lot, she turned back around, intending to unlock her door, but instead walked right into the solid expanse of a man's chest.

She screamed, an ear-splitting alarm, and backed up, preparing to fight her would-be assailant. Her hand arched upwards, the keys protruding from her fist like spikes, but before she could make contact, strong fingers closed around her wrist, halting the swing.

Everything stood out in her mind with a brilliant clarity.  The smiling blue eyes looking down at her, the laughter coming nearer, the stillness of the air, the sound of a plane flying over head, and the rushing pulse of her own heartbeat throbbing in her ears all came together like a nightmarish soundtrack.

Please don't hurt me, she heard herself beg softly, choking back a sob.

Is that the best you can do? Aren't you even going to try and get away? Lucien said, releasing her. You really gave in too quickly. See, this is why you shouldn't be walking out alone at this time of night.

Tristan sniffed hard and took a step back, yelping loudly as another body blocked her way and hands closed around her shoulders.  Whoa there, John comforted, Sorry, I just walked right into you, didn't I?  Didn't mean to startle you, love.

Lucien leaned back against the car comfortably with a patient expression, waiting for her to speak.  He winked at John over her head and acknowledged Nick with a jerk of his chin.

What do you want?  Tristan asked finally, sidestepping away from John, wondering how she was going to get into her car and away.  For a moment she cursed herself for having skimped on the keyless entry feature, then scolded herself that she wouldn't need a keyless entry feature if she hadn't decided to go playing out in the middle of the night.

Want? John repeated, his face wrinkling with hurt, Why would you ask that?  We don't want anything.  Just thought we'd see you safely to your car.

Tristan stepped aside and looked between the two.  The blond one, Lucien she thought, was leaning against her doorframe with his hips over the lock.  The other one, John, was in a good place to catch her if she ran.  She didn't think the odds were in her favor either way, but started inching around to the passenger side of her car.  Well, thanks, she forced out from between her teeth, a dreamlike terror having settled over her mind leaving her hazy.  So here's my car and I got here safely.

The men just smiled at her and watched her move around the back end of the vehicle, both chuckling at the look on her face to find Nick crouched around beside the other door.  She let out another short scream and bounced backwards as he popped up to his full height.

Boo! He teased.

Stop being such a meanie, drew Tristan's attention to the shadows behind John and she felt her stomach sink as the last man and woman of the party stepped into the small, dull-yellow glow of the lamp.

When Nick turned to give answer, Tristan took one step back, then spun on her heel and started to run.  She could not head back toward the main district as they were largely in the way, so she aimed herself at the darkness between two old vacant buildings and pressed forward with as much speed as her legs would give her.

As her feet pumped, rising and falling from the pavement, part of her mind was struck with the fact that she was a good runner.  Leaning into the stride she half smiled to herself.  Craziness was the word she threw at herself for thinking in an offhand way that she felt somewhat graceful in the movements.  Tristan ground her teeth and pushed thoughts away as she ducked into a short ally and hid herself behind a trash dumpster.  She reasoned that she would be safe there for the few hours remaining before sunlight, and by then surely they would have given up and gone home.  Daylight was the new name of her hero.

Was it something I said? Nick asked, with mock surprise.

Not at all, Darling, Valen replied, her eyes fixed on the last space that Tristan had occupied before she vanished. I think she wants to play. She certainly seems to know the game...poor little mouse.

"Hmm, well she did run, didn't she? Lucien agreed, pushing off the car with his hip. Only seems right that we give chase."

Oh, let's give her a little distance, first, John smiled, his fangs glinting in the halogen light. Let her think she has a shot at getting away.

Yes, adrenaline seasons the blood, Gregor said, Besides, we haven't had a good hunt in ages.

Well, we don't want her to get too far, Nick reasoned, starting off in the direction she'd taken. Rupert and Jameson are about and they don't play fair by any means. Like as like they'll be out hunting, too.  If they catch scent of her, she'll be their mouse.

Valen sighed, Tell me again, why didn't we kill those two when we were in Rome? We'd have been doing the world a favor.

Gregor smiled slightly and kissed the corner of her mouth, Because it’s more fun to play with them.

Oh yes, we did have fun stealing their feeds, didn’t we? Now I remember, she nodded, returning his kiss before pulling away, and turned to follow Nick, moving past him quickly. Come on, I can smell her. She won't have gotten far.

They moved with an unnatural silence, following the trail of Tristan's warm scented blood, finally turning down the alleyway where her pulse throbbed loudly.   John frowned to Lucien in mock sympathy as they heard a miserable sniffle and the sounds of someone trying to make themselves small and somewhat comfortable.

Aw, Nick cooed in a whisper to Valen, I think she's settling in for the night.

"Why do they always have to hide in garbage, Lucien scowled.  They always smell like hell when they hide in garbage."

Just think of all the fun you'll have cleaning her up, Valen purred, sliding her fingers over her tall companion's shoulder. He turned slightly, raising an eyebrow at her, a small smile curling the corner of his mouth. That could be fun, but I'd really prefer it if she didn't smell so completely vile.

Well, she's not actually in the garbage, John murmured back over his shoulder.  Just rather near to it.

Well, that's a blessing, Lucien breathed.

Tristan held her breath and tilted her head to the right, straining to hear.  She was positive that there had been sounds suddenly close by, but she could see nothing from where she had wedged herself, and there were no obvious footsteps, or voices.  She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, and hugged her knees closer in to her chest making as little of herself as possible and kept her breath as quiet as she could.

It's really not wise to run off like that. A female voice said, and the dark haired woman from the club appeared from the shadows before her. This doesn't seem to be the safest place for you.

There was a gasp from the ground and then Nick smirked at the string of quiet curses Tristan tried to hold in check.  Fear and a sudden anger crackled out onto the air as she struggled up to her feet, tripping over cans as she did.  What do you want, she insisted, crossing her arms protectively over her chest, trying to look taller and somewhat menacing, though having run already she knew that was moot.  There's five of you and one of me and I'm not Jackie Chan so I can't take you all on. So just--why don't you just leave me alone?  I haven't done anything to you.

We haven't done anything to you, either, Sweets, Lucien replied. In fact, we've only been looking out for your well-being and you're not being very considerate.

Tristan let out a sharp laugh and rolled her eyes, taking a step back further against the wall.  Yeah, right. You've only been following me, scaring the hell out of me, and--never mind.  We'll call it pax, yeah?  Thank you very much for looking out for my well-being.  I apologize for being inconsiderate.  There.  Now you guys can feel free to go off and do whatever it is you do, and I'll just hang out here for a while.

That wouldn't be wise. Nick said, shaking his head. Something bad might happen to you here. We wouldn't want that.

She narrowed her eyes in the darkness, squinting to see their faces beyond just shadows.  I don't think anything bad will happen to me as long as you guys just go on your way and leave me alone.

At least let us walk you back to your car, Lucien offered, stepping closer to her, his face a mask of blue-eyed concern. Then we'll leave you be, if that's what you really want.

Isn't that what we were trying to do the first time?

Yes, and you ran. We were just having a bit of fun, no harm done. He nodded, smiling at her, showing a line of small, even teeth. We're sorry if we scared you.

John licked his lips when she swallowed hard, barely able to conceal his glee. He loved hunting, and he really loved when Lucien sweet-talked them into trust. He shivered happily and leaned back on Valen's free shoulder, doing his best to hold his smile in check and look bored and concerned.  One eyebrow shot up with Tristan's response, though.

Yeah, I didn't run.  I walked.  You followed...or something, because I don't know how you got to my car before I did.  She was afraid, but bold in that fear, possibly thinking that she would not go down without some sort of fight, or perhaps just bristling like a little animal.  John shivered again.  

So thanks for your concern, and thanks for letting me in on your 'bit of fun,' but I really am not in the mood to play, so if you'll excuse me, I'll just be going home now.

She took in a quick, deep breath and then pushed past Lucien and the others, aiming at the alley mouth where she stopped with a muffled yell.  Oh there you are, came Jameson's silky voice.  We came looking for you after we saw that band of awfuls chasing you down the street.  Worried sick, we were!

Shit, is all she said.  Shit, shit, shit.  Then she broke out in a dead run, pelting across the street with all the might in her.

Nice try, Jules, Valen smirked, brushing past him, This one belongs to us, go get your own. She started crossing the street, then stopped, turning back to look at the males who were stood growling at each other on the curb. Actually, She said, drawing their attention, I have a better idea. Jameson, why don't you and Rupert chase her, and we'll come in and rescue her...we'll rape..I mean, reap the benefits together.

You going to give us a piece of her, too?

No, Valen smiled, but if you make this work for us, I might be inclined to help you find something for yourselves.  Get you some nice big man for dinner?  I know you love those.

Rupert and Jameson continued to stare at her, but it was obvious to everyone that they were discussing the alternatives between themselves. After a long moment and a shared glance, Rupert nodded, Fine, we'll help you get her, but we want our pick for our own meal, and it has to be tonight.

No problem, Valen shrugged, giving them a winsome grin before schooling her features, her eyes going dark with her expression. Now, let's go.

Rupert and Jameson exchanged a smile, then they were both off like a shot, the other five following close behind.

Tristan was running and crying.  Tears on her cheeks were drying as fast as they fell into the air rushing past her with her pace.  She was running south and planned to turn back west toward her car as soon as she was a block more down, thinking it best to round herself out away from that frightening pack.

Her lungs ached with every breath and she had a stitch in her side, but the sight of a police car in the distance spurred her on with relief.  Focusing herself for a final sprint, she yelped when a body flashed out in front of her from the darkness and caught her easily, clasping a hand around her mouth and an arm around her waist, lifting her from the ground in one motion.

Tristan screamed and struggled, scrabbling at the fingers that muffled the sounds she made, kicking wildly, and finally found enough purchase to bite down hard on the fleshy part of her captor's palm as her heel made contact with his shin.

There was a deep growl and another pair of hands were suddenly grabbing at her legs, pulling them up to stop her kicking. Tristan's vision cleared and she recognized the man who'd chatted her up at the bar, the handsome foreigner with dark curly hair, what was his name? His face was twisted into a feral grimace as he held her calves under one arm. The man who'd grabbed her and covered her mouth was shuffling backwards and the two carried her into the shadows of an abandoned warehouse, just before the police car arrived to sweep it's headlights over the building.

She still screamed against the man's hand and thrashed as wildly as she could, squirming and twisting, now clawing at the one that held her by the waist. She willed the officer to know she was there, being attacked, and possibly about to be brutalized.  Come on! She yelled in her mind, Come on!  You're a cop! Use that sixth sense thing!  Help me!

They're not going to help you. A mildly familiar voice said, almost as soon as she finished the thought, and she froze, realizing that