In the Dark (37 page)

Though I seem
to be having more and more of them.

Sebastian would
not doubt if that was why Specter taught the pack to murder their
lovers. To keep the members from forming alliances outside the pack,
to keep them loyal to Specter. A startlingly easy way to keep them as
one unit. The blood of death was addictive; Specter did not even need
to see the rule enforced. Once he showed them the pleasure inherent
in killing, the pack members themselves would give in to temptation
and take care of inconvenient outside interests all on their own.

And none of
them sees the real reason.

Josephine
shifted in her sleep, red hair slipping over her face –

Watching
Sarah sleep, how blond strands fell over her face, how even in sleep,
she reached out to him . . .

Memories. More
of them.

It was so like
living again, so vivid, that for a moment he was Donal again,
wondering at the room he found himself in and the strange woman lying
beside him in Sarah’s place –

Knowledge of the
here-and-now slammed into him, forcing him to remember. He cringed
against reality while tears formed and dried in his eyes.

He reached out,
brushed Josephine’s hair from her face.

Without meaning
to, he thought of Sarah’s death. His reaction to her death.
That part of her life stayed vivid in his mind, always. The horrible
pain. The emptiness. The aloneness that had swallowed him whole,
leaving nothing else for him to feel.

Would he react
that way to Josephine’s death?

No. The answer
was immediate. Not like that. Wailing for nights, slitting his wrists
only to find they would no longer bleed. No.

But the
loneliness . . . that he would feel. As he would if Ian were killed.
Perhaps he had more feelings left in him than even he had suspected.

Josephine
murmured in her sleep, one hand searching for him. Unexpectedly, his
throat tightened and his eyes became uncomfortable.

He swallowed
once and let her hand find his. She tugged him, cracking open one
eye. He let her, and she pulled him to fit against her. Soft curve of
her breast against his chest, her flat stomach pressed to his, arm
settled loosely against his waist.

She could kill
him like this.

But she only
sighed, pressed her face to his neck, and lay still. After several
tense moments, Sebastian let himself – forced himself –
to relax, and simply hold her.

He thought he
was doing it right. She sighed again.

It felt right.

Very right
indeed.

T
he
dream lingered as I woke up, following me from sleep. I rolled over
in bed, pulled the covers up over my head and kept my eyes closed.
Trying to remember. It had been a bad dream, but the images had the
same feel as the last couple dreams I’d had that turned out to
have connections to the real world. Even in the dream I’d been
paying attention, trying to figure out what it was telling me.

Alec and the
pack vampire that had approached Sebastian sat at a little bistro
table having tea together. I stood beside them while they both told
me how dangerous Sebastian was, Alec with a horrified tone and the
pack vampire with zeal. A sound made me turn, and I watched
helplessly while Amanda was savaged to death by a group of vampires.
They must have been the pack, though they looked more like demons or
gargoyles than real vampires. Watching that violent scene in the
dream made me feel sick and afraid; remembering the dream while awake
did the same thing. I made fists around the edges of my blankets and
focused on the next part of the dream. When the bloody and dead
Amanda had lifted her head, smiled at me, and removed her mask.
Became the blank-faced, red-eyed, ice-pick-fanged creature that had
tried to kill me once before. I turned and ran, and she chased me,
and I woke up with the dream following me.

So what the hell
did all that mean?

Something. I was
sure of it. Possibly something important. Alec and the pack vampire
having tea, the pack as demons, Amanda dying, becoming a faceless
monster . . . I turned it over, kept my eyes closed, searching for
the clues.

My stomach
grumbled angrily. First the sound, then an empty stab. I thought
about the dream a little more, then gave in to my furious belly. I
rolled out of bed, resolving to think of the dream more later.

Once I put down
some fresh food for Gypsy, I left my room to find Sebastian. He
wouldn’t approve of me running out to get a mouthful alone. Not
that I wanted to. I trotted out into the living room, expecting
people, or a person. Someone to say “hi” to. I walked
into an empty room.

Nobody at all
. . . ? Probably still sleeping.

Sleeping or
other things.

I blew air up
into my bangs. Who knew how long they’d be? Time to amuse
myself for a while.

I went to the
glass balcony doors, thought about swimming in that marvelously large
pool and decided against it. I wanted to be ready to go the instant
Sebastian got up, not standing in wet clothes. I pressed my face to
the glass of the door, watching my reflection watch me. It made me
think of Sebastian’s mirrors. The ones that had been in the
practice room and weren’t there now. I’d asked him where
they went and he simply said that if I missed them, he would replace
them. If there was a more creative way to say, “
I don’t
want to talk about it,”
I couldn’t think of one. I
wasn’t the only one going through some shit here.

I crossed my
eyes at my reflection. Maybe I should try to work my dream out some
more.

“Hey –”

I nearly jumped
clear out of my skin, whirling around with a frightened snarl that
got out of me before I recognized Amanda’s voice. Not a
startled “eep!” or a shriek or anything human-sounding.
Of course not. A goddamned
snarl.
Fangs and everything.

I saw Amanda’s
eyes go wide, watched her stumble back away from me in the space it
took me to realize who had spoken and how I had responded. My face
relaxed, the snarl snipped off, but it was too late.

Amanda’s
hands came up to protect herself. She tripped over a chair trying to
back away and watch me at the same time. She yelped as she fell, then
scurried behind the chair, hoping to hide. Her hands shook. She
didn’t see me, she saw a beast. A beast like the ones that had
ripped her apart just nights ago.

I tried to go to
her. I knew better. I’d had these little freak-out sessions, I
knew how she was locked into the memories and didn’t know who I
was. I still stepped forward, reaching. She cried out and cowered
behind the chair. Certain I was going to kill her.

Sick, I flinched
back from her. I wanted to hug her, talk to her, anything. Something
to help. Any of those things would make the memories more intense,
harder to push away. She had to ride it out on her own. Standing
there, watching, I felt angry and helpless and sad. This shouldn’t
have been happening. She shouldn’t be scarred like this.

Like me.

Feet thumping.
First Sebastian, then Josephine came hurrying from the hall.
Sebastian didn’t have his sword, but I didn’t assume he
was less dangerous. Even Josephine looked alert and tensed for
action.

When they saw
Amanda, they both hung back. Like they’d seen this kind of
thing before.

“Is she
hurt?” Sebastian asked me.

I shook my head.
“I scared her.”

Sebastian gave a
stoic nod, his posture relaxing. Josephine seemed to tense up more.
Instead of going to Amanda, though, she came to me. Set a hand on my
shoulder.

“She’ll
be all right,” she murmured to me.

I nodded. I
didn’t buy it, though. I didn’t feel all right. Why would
Amanda?

The panic attack
wound down after only a minute. They always seemed longer when you
were living them. I took a step towards Amanda, intending to kneel
down by her, hug her, tell her everything was okay. The look on her
face stopped me. I knew it.

Shame.

She had just
totally tweaked out on the floor, hiding behind a chair, and all
three of us saw. We all watched her loose her marbles. That didn’t
feel good.

“Amanda.”
I wanted to tell her it was okay, we understood, that I was going
through the same sort of thing right now.

She looked up at
my voice, mortified, then sprinted out of the living room. Down the
hall. I heard a door bang shut behind her.

I started to
follow her. Josephine put a hand on my arm. “Give her a little
time.”

I wanted to
chase my sister down, be there for her, but I had to admit Josephine
was right. I nodded and hung back. Unhappily.

“I assume
you wish to feed?” Sebastian asked. I noticed he was buttoning
his shirt. They must have heard us making a commotion and come
running before they were dressed. Nice to know they cared, anyway.

“Yeah,”
I said. My empty stomach grumbled again for good measure. “I
just – maybe I should talk to Amanda first? I don’t wanna
up and leave her.”

Josephine
squeezed my shoulder. “You’re starving. Go on. I’ll
talk to her. She won’t be alone.”

My vocal stomach
argued her point to me. I hesitated, then nodded.

Sebastian got
his coat and sword, waiting for me to join him before he hit the
now-broken call button. I mumbled a goodbye to Josephine and got
ready to go hunting.

Hunting.

What an ugly
word.

But that was the
accurate way to put it.

Instead of
making me feel strong, able to take care of myself, it made me feel
even lower. I already felt like a vicious monster, scaring the shit
out of Amanda. Now I had to hunt. Hunters killed. Kent was dead,
Emily was dead, Evan was dead, even Amanda.

We’re
surrounded by death.

We – me,
Sebastian, Amanda, Josephine, Kent – vampires – we were
animals. Hungry, vicious animals. I wrapped my arms around myself,
suddenly chilled. Remembering Kent teaching me not to hurt anyone . .
. and how close I’d already come to attacking both Sebastian
and Alec.

“You’re
thinking,” Sebastian observed.

I shook my head.
“Kind of. Nothing important.”

That was a
bald-faced lie. I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud,
though. What would Sebastian really say in response? I liked him and
trusted him, but I knew what he was.

He nodded
briefly. I knew I hadn’t snowed him, he was just respecting my
desire not to talk.

The elevator
slowed and told us we’d reached the garage. With a polite
chime, the doors opened for us. He went to the Vector, disarmed it,
unlocked it. I trailed him, watching my feet. Neither of us spoke as
he pulled out into traffic.

There wasn’t
really much to say.

I
heard the rave before I saw it, a thumping sound that pounded down
the street and into the car. We turned a corner and the source of the
noise appeared: an old, half-crumbled warehouse full to the walls
with dancing ravers, strobe lights, smoke and noise.

I pointed.
“There.”

Sebastian drove
past the warehouse and parked another block and a half away. I licked
my lips. I’d be getting high again tonight, but frankly, I
didn’t care. Without looking around, I bee-lined for the
warehouse. Sebastian followed me in silence.

We were swamped
before we even reached the building. Bodies spilled out doors and
spread down the block, like the warehouse had dropped and broken
open. A DJ mixed some heavy beats inside, loud enough that the party
could go on out here. I reached the edge of the crowd, my body
already twitching to the beat. I let the people enfold me, guessing
what kinds of drugs were on the menu – dilated eyes and
caressing hands followed me as I moved into them.

The high started
fast. From the smell of them, the feel of them against me, from my
hunger and their willingness to let me come close. A high just for
me; a vampire high. My worries and pain vanished into pleasure, and
it felt good. Damn good.

Hands touched
me. Not just one person but several, brushing against my cool skin
with their heat. I reached for those hot hands. Brought one to my
aching mouth, kissed it. Bit. Its owner gasped, let me pull him
close. Blood trickled into my mouth with the salt of his sweat. I
sipped at it, then moved my mouth to the inside of his elbow.
Whatever drugs he’d taken gave his blood a bitter-sweet flavor.
Like dark chocolate. I could feel it scorch down to my stomach, reach
into my arms and legs and make them tingle. He passed me as we moved
to the beat. I let him slide away and reached for the next hand that
rested on me.

One person would
brush close enough to me to sink my fangs into a hand or wrist or
neck, then melt away as another took their place. Salt and sweet and
iron saturated my tongue, X and pot and acid sparked in my head. I
couldn’t tell if my eyes were open or closed. Didn’t
care.

And in one sip
that was far less desperate then my first gulp, I was full. My whole
body felt so peaceful, so perfect and calm. I stood still, letting
this last person drift away from me, dizzy from the things in the
blood I’d stolen.

A long, long
time later, someone spoke. Or maybe only minutes had passed.

“He’s
coming, you know.”

The familiar
voice fell into my warm world like a sudden freezing rain. I opened
my eyes to look at Alec. Closed them again and thought about leaving
them shut until he left.

“Who’s
coming, Alec?” The words swam up from somewhere in the back of
my head. I almost didn’t know what they meant. Almost didn’t
care.

“A friend
of Sebastian’s.”

I opened my eyes
again. Alec seemed anxious. “What?” I said.