The House (2 page)

It wasn’t long
before a couple of guys approached us. They didn’t say anything,
not because they were rude, but because to talk on the dance floor
required you shout in the other person’s ear.

The men moved
with us as we danced. Both of them were dark-haired but that was
all I could tell you about them; the strobe lighting made picking
out any features virtually impossible. I didn’t care. This was why
I came to the club, and this was how I forgot about my troubles and
my past. In the crush of people and the emotions that flowed
through me.

It was the only
time I ever felt truly connected to humans; in real everyday life I
simply couldn’t relate to them. There was too much to hide and too
many differences for me to truly feel comfortable in their world.
And they wouldn’t much like mine.

My dance
partner tapped me on the shoulder, distracting me from my thoughts.
He jerked his head over to the bar and mouthed, “Drink?” I nodded
and grabbed Stripes, gesturing to where we were going. She nodded
briefly before turning back to her own dance partner.

I left her to
it. I wasn’t her keeper, not quite anyway. She had no
responsibility for me either so we felt no need to spend the entire
night attached at the hip. Besides, outside out of the dance floor
lighting I could see my dance partner better and he was worth
looking at. I’d mistaken his hair colour, which was actually a dark
blond rather than brown. It was reasonably short and gelled
artfully, framing a genuinely handsome face.

I could feel
and see the play of muscles under his thin, tight blue top as he
lead me back to the bar. He was taller than me, not a hard feat
because I’m just under average height for a woman. He got to the
bar before me and looked back; I gestured to Hunter to say that
he’d know what I’d want and leant against the nearby wall while he
bought our drinks. I rested only my shoulders against it, pushing
my chest out just a little. It made him watch me while Hunter
poured the drinks so he never got a look at what he put in them. I
didn’t think it would be something Hunter would want spread
around.

“Kyle,” he
said. His voice was a deep, bass rumble. He sounded like he should
be good at growling and that made my heart beat faster than even
the music had managed to push it to. Although real growling was
much more likely to send my heart beat trying to run the other
way.

Luckily, he was
only human and so wouldn’t be able to tell. Human suited me just
fine; all the same fun without any of the possessive bullshit that
so many male shifters seemed to develop. I have no idea why they
suddenly feel the need to be possessive when they change. Maybe
it’s just the kind of guys that chose to change.

“Trix,” I
replied, holding out my hand for him to shake. Instead he handed me
another shot of the green liquid and bent down to my level with his
arm supporting him on the wall behind me. “Bottom’s up.”

He swallowed
his own shot of green liquid as I did mine. I prayed that it wasn’t
as strong as I thought it was; he’d have trouble getting home if he
tried to keep up with me. Hell, he’d probably end up dead if he
tried to keep up with me. He whistled low and moved his lips closer
to my face on the pretence of making me hear him without straining.
In all fairness, he didn’t actually know that I could hear his
heart beat above the music if I cared to. Or occasionally if I
didn’t.

“God, that
stuff’s like rocket fuel. How many of them have you had?” he asked,
his voice vibrating through me.

“That was my
second,” I smiled sweetly. Second, sixth, what’s the difference
really? “I have an excellent tolerance for alcohol,” I breathed
into his lips. He was getting closer now and I could feel the
adrenaline coursing through my veins, making my breathing fast and
shallow. That, he actually would notice, and I found I didn’t
care.

“No shit.
There’s, like, three units in one shot. I’m not even sure it’s
legal.” The legalities of the drink didn’t seem to bother him
though. He seemed impressed. I quickly did the maths in my head;
I’d had 18 units in less than an hour and I was just about tipsy. I
shrugged for effect and wrapped my arms around his neck. He was too
drunk to notice my mental calculations.

“Can’t you
handle it?” I asked, sweet as can be. I’m really quite cute
sometimes. Maybe it’s the cat in me, since people always seem to
find animals cute. All the people I talked to anyway.

“Babe, I can
handle anything,” he whispered. His lips touched my ear and I felt
myself shiver. Definitely tipsy. Although I could get used to the
feeling, there was an underlying buzz from the alcohol that
intensified when he moved his body even closer. We were now
touching from our knees to our chests and everything in-between. I
gasped as he ran his hand first down the side of my face and then
over my shoulder and down my arm. I appreciated his restraint; I’m
not big on public displays of affection. Of course, I could deal
with a secluded corner of a dark club.

His mouth found
mine just as the song changed, this time to one I recognised.

Kyle’s tongue
in my mouth cut off my trail of thought and for the life of me I
couldn’t find it again. His hands weren’t being as restrained any
more as they traced the curves of my body. It felt like every nerve
was on fire with need; I wanted him and I wanted him now. I
couldn’t form any kind of coherent thought because, damn, he was a
good kisser. I had a feeling I was also getting the blowback of his
lust since I wasn’t bothering to control myself properly. Or maybe
he was catching the edge of mine.

He pulled away
when a slight vibration from his pocket signalled the phone in his
coms pad going off. He grunted in an annoyed sort of way and I
smiled. He had a newer coms pad than most of us, especially those
of us who frequented Jen’s. He checked the screen once then frowned
deeply before bringing his attention back to me.

“I gotta go
babe, my brother just struck out bad and I need to get him home.
Another time maybe? You got a number?” His voice still held the
hint of forbidden promises but by then I was coherent enough to
realise that if I gave him my number, and he called me when I was
sober, I would probably regret it.

“If you want
to see me again Kyle…” I emphasised his name for effect, I was
fairly sure he’d forgotten mine “ …you’ll just have to find me.” I
smirked, and with the ease and grace of a cat I was gone and
halfway across the dance floor by the time he turned to look.
Halfway across the dance floor, basically making me invisible to
him. I couldn’t help but be proud of myself for not giving in to
some of my baser instincts. It had clearly been too long since I’d
been laid.

Stripes peeled
herself away from her dance partner to follow me out of the side
door. It was used as an exit so that they didn’t get people coming
in and out of a single door at the entrance. The space wasn’t big
enough to accommodate two-way traffic.

The alley
beyond was kept neat and free from rubbish although there was
always the faint, and sometimes not so faint, smell of vomit and
other things that I didn’t care to identify too closely. Sometimes
enhanced senses aren’t an advantage.

The alley was
well-lit and wide enough for several people to stand abreast. So
when the first of them walked across the entrance we were headed
for we barely blinked. Just some guy looking for trouble. Except
when we turned around to avoid the trouble there was another one
blocking the other exit; then a third between us and the door. We
hadn’t even seen them move.

Then I caught a
sense of it, like a taste in the back of my mouth. Magic. They
weren’t just guys looking for trouble. They were vampyre with
trouble written all over them. And there were two more, less than a
metre and a half away.

“Shit,” I
muttered under my breath, but of course everyone in the alley heard
me. Whilst vampyre were nowhere near as powerful as shifters on
their own, most of them had a few extra tricks that most of us
lacked. Then there was the fact that there were five of them. Two
of them we could have taken, five humans we could have managed, but
five vampyre was overkill.

“Vampyre,”
Stripes whispered through my brain. Ok, so I have a few extra
tricks but Stripes was a tabby cat for God’s sake. The best she
could do was claw them up or run away, and running away seemed like
a good idea. I scanned the alley as surreptitiously as possible.
There was a 4 metre high wall with a gap at the top just opposite
from us; we could both jump it, just, but there was a vampyre in
the way. A very large, very intimidating vampyre in the way. I
mentally shuddered at the thought of trying to get past him.

We were strong,
we were fast and we could have claws in either form, but we were
outnumbered and inexperienced. The most fighting I’d done was some
basic sparring in my compulsory self-defence classes, and they
hadn’t covered vampyre. I’d also believed that there was never
going to be a bad guy that was stronger or faster than me. It had
made me lazy; a laziness which looked like it might just get us
killed if we couldn’t come up with something fast.

Then again, it
made no sense; vampyre had more magic than shifters, but it wasn’t
their magic. It came from the witch they were tied to; the witch
who kept them alive beyond what should have been their natural end.
And the vampyre in front of me was old, really old. Don’t ask how I
know that - it’s the same skill that told me Kyle was totally human
- I just knew. He was also powerful or bound tight to a powerful
witch.

“What do you want?” My
voice didn’t crack and I managed to slow my heart down to an
acceptable level. Yet fear crawled through my insides making them
feel like lead. I was fairly sure what they wanted; unfortunately
for us, we probably wouldn’t want to give it to them. Vampyre most
often wanted two things, both of which they could, and would, take
from us. Companionship - and when you’re over five hundred,
companionship means more than just a friendly chat - and blood.
They craved blood, needed blood mostly, unless they were very
closely tied to their ‘master’. They were going to struggle with
the latter since I was fairly sure that shifter blood would do more
damage than good, not that we’d be in much shape to appreciate it
by that stage.

“You my sweet.
I, we, want you.” The vampyre in front of me spoke; his voice was
clear and menacing but I’d heard worse. I could probably do worse.
Just not right at that moment in time. I was having enough trouble
keeping my voice even at all.

“Sorry but
we’re not currently available, have to get home, meet our curfew,”
I said absently. I sounded like I was discussing the weather
because that’s the only way I could not sound terrified. “So if
you’ll kindly step out of the way we’ll be going now.” As I
finished I felt Stripes’ hand in mine, hot and moist with her pulse
racing. It didn’t help me relax and I felt my own pulse speed in
time with hers. It felt like my heart was trying to beat its way
out of my chest.

“Oh, but
there’s nobody else here for you to go with. Two young women out
alone at night, you should know better.” It seemed the one in front
of me was the leader; he was the oldest and so far the only one to
have spoken at all.

“We aren’t
defenceless,” I said, much more confidently than I felt. It was
true; we weren’t defenceless. It just happened our defences would
likely do little to deter them. Vampyre were almost as fast and
strong as we were, and these looked like they were a hell of a lot
more experienced at fighting than us.

“I don’t see anyone here to protect you. And there is nowhere
in your very
charming
outfit for you to hide a weapon,” he sneered and I faltered.
They had no idea what we were, which made no sense. I debated
telling them, but then again that would take away our chance of
surprising them. Yet, I might hold enough clout to get them to
think twice, at least long enough to get away. I dithered to and
fro for a matter of moments before choosing. I just had to pray it
was the right choice.

“I know what
you are.” It was a bad opening line; several of them laughed and
the leader smiled quietly. “I know that hurting us when we know
about you means consequences. There are people who will miss us,
people to serve our justice.” I knew more than I wanted to about
the witches’ justice system, and I never wanted to be caught up in
it. It wasn’t exactly forgiving and the closest relation to the
victim got to choose the perpetrator’s punishment. I was fairly
sure that I wouldn’t want to know what my grandfather or Marie
would come up with if someone hurt me. Not that it would help me
much since I’d be dead anyway. I was hoping the threat would
prevent that. Apparently not.

A few of the
smiles faltered briefly, but the leader remained consistent. “Who
would fight for you? You are not witches; you are human girls. You
will not be missed for long.”

He was wrong,
mostly. At least I thought I’d be missed. “My grandfather,” I said,
but without much hope. If he didn’t recognise me, throwing my
grandfather’s name into the mix was a disaster waiting to happen
but we’d already run out of options, fast. “Richard SinClara.”

My only warning
was a rush of air. I jumped sideways, pushing Stripes to the ground
ahead of me. One of the problems of having an influential family,
sometimes people chose to dislike you before they even get to know
you. I turned, using all of my inhuman speed and agility, crouching
between Stripes and danger.

“Run!” I
shouted but she stayed stubbornly behind me. “Go!” She didn’t move
except to try to get a better view of the attacker. “Lily Catalow,
get out of here right n…”