Vamps (3 page)

Having Juliana marry into the Orlocks had been a real coup for the de Lavals, even though all that inbreeding had resulted in the count being freakishly ugly.

“Exo's not that bad-looking, in a Mr. Spock kinda way, I guess,” Tanith said with a shrug. “I was thinking more along the lines of his dad or that older brother of his.”

“Brrr!”
Lilith feigned a shudder. “Don't bring
him
up! Just thinking about Klaus creeps me out. I'm glad that the Orlocks are only going to be related to me by marriage, not blood.”

As they returned to prowl the boutique's racks for
more clothes, Lilith saw Melinda walking toward them with Carmen in tow.

“Let's shop!”

 

It was a half hour after closing by the time the quartet finished picking and choosing, their platinum credit cards guaranteeing the store manager's willingness to hang around to lock up after them. The setting sun glinted off their custom gold foil shopping bags as they gathered on the sidewalk in front of the boutique.

“What next?” Melinda asked.

“We could go back to my place for a few drinks,” Tanith suggested. “My parents are leaving for Brazil tonight.”

“That's a great idea!” Lilith grinned.

Melinda said, “Why don't we walk?”

“Sounds good to me,” Lilith agreed. “I'll send my driver home and call Jules so he and the boys will know to hook up with us at Tanith's. We can double up and take a couple of cars to the Village. This is going to be fun!”

 

The girls chatted among themselves as they strolled in the gathering twilight. As the quartet moved past the opulent stores along Madison Avenue, every head turned to watch them go by. Lilith and her friends pretended not to notice the attention. Some of the humans out walking that evening stared because they thought the
four incredibly beautiful, expensively dressed young women were fashion models or Hollywood starlets. Others stared out of lust. But a handful stared because they sensed the truth behind the mask and were unable to look away, like birds hypnotized by the sway of the cobra's dance.

When Tanith was a little girl, she used to tell people that she lived across the street from the Alice in Wonderland statue in Central Park. Now she preferred to give Jimmy Choo's as a reference point. Hardly glancing at the fabulous shoes in the window, the friends turned down Sixty-third to Fifth Avenue.

Three undead servants were standing in the hallway, loaded down with luggage, when the elevator opened on Tanith's penthouse floor. As the girls stepped off, the servants filed onto the waiting elevator without saying a word.

“Damn it!” Tanith groaned. “They're still here!”

“Not for much longer,” her father said dryly as he exited their apartment. With his wavy dark hair and heavily lidded eyes, Dorian Graves looked like he had just walked off the cover of a gothic romance novel. He gave Tanith a peck on the cheek. “Be a good girl and promise not to burn the house to the ground while we're gone, will you?”

“Only if you promise to bring me back something sparkly.”

“Don't I always?” He chuckled. “Well, I'm afraid I
must be going. Your mother is already downstairs. We'll be back late next week. So long, young ladies,” he said, acknowledging his daughter's friends with a gentlemanly nod as he stepped inside the elevator.

“Well, that's over with,” Tanith said with a sigh of relief as the elevator doors shut behind her father. “Feel free to make yourselves comfortable.”

“Don't mind if I do.” Lilith grinned as she tossed her shopping bags on the floor, shucked off her heels, and wiggled her pedicured toes in the plush carpet. Tanith made her way to the formal bar in the corner, where her father kept the good stuff. She opened up the refrigerator and took out a bag of A neg laced with Napoleon brandy while Carmen and Melly kicked back on the leather sofa. Tanith poured the blood into four crystal snifters and handed them out to her friends.

“To us,” Lilith said, holding her glass merrily aloft.

“To us,” Tanith, Carmen, and Melinda echoed, lifting their glasses in a toast.

“To the vampire princesses of New York City! Long may we reign!”

“S
o, where are we slumming tonight?” Melinda asked as she bounced a quarter off the coffee table, narrowly missing the Waterford Crystal juice glass set at its center.

“Washington Square Park,” Jules explained as he tossed the coin with an expert flip of his fingers, bouncing it into the empty glass. “All right!” He grinned. He studied the others for a long moment, as if it was a matter of life or death, before pointing at Lilith. “Lili has to take a shot.”

“Like you'd have to twist my arm otherwise.” Lilith laughed as she picked up the shot of tequila-laced O poz. “Here's blood in your eye,” she said, knocking back the drink with a toss of her head.

“Okay, since I made the bounce that time, I get to go again,” Jules said, taking the coin back out of the glass.

“How much longer before we can leave?” Lilith asked, getting bored. After last night, she was eager to be on the hunt.

Jules paused to glance at his watch. “I guess it's late enough. We could leave now, since it'll take a little while to get down there. I know a new club we can hit later.”

“Cool. I'll tell Tanith.” Lilith strolled over to Tanith and Sergei, who lay sprawled on the carpet making out. She gave Tanith's hip a playful nudge with her bare foot. “C'mon, you two, give it a rest! It's time this party hit the streets.”

Reluctantly Tanith pulled away from Sergei and smiled up at Lilith with hazy eyes. “I'm just getting warmed up.”

“Do you think we'll be safe?” Sergei asked.

“Are you still obsessing about Van Helsings?” Lilith chuckled. “It's just a bogeyman story the adults use to try and scare us from having fun.”

“I don't know about that…my grandfather was killed by Van Helsings,” Sergei said.

“What's the matter, Sergei?” Tanith purred. “Afraid the big, bad vampire hunters are gonna get you too? C'mon—that happened, what? Seventy-five? A hundred years ago?”

“One hundred and twenty,” he admitted.

“See? It's old news!” Lilith insisted. “When's the last
time
anyone
heard of a Van Helsing staking
anybody
on the streets of New York? I don't mean one of the undead; I mean one of
us
?”

“Lilith's right,” Tanith said with a smile. “There's no need to be worried. The worst thing that can happen is we run into New Bloods because it's open territory.”

There was a pause as the friends exchanged glances to see if anyone was worried about going up against New Bloods—not that any one of them would dare to admit it. That would be like lions admitting they were intimidated by hyenas.

Old Blood families claim ancient bloodrights—the absolute control of legions of undead that brings great power and wealth. The bloodrights of the New Blood are seldom more than three or four generations old, making them less powerful and socially inferior. The reason for their rivalry is simple: greed.

It goes all the way back to the very beginning, when a hundred brothers were summoned to earth from the hell of their birth. Brother killed brother as each fought to become supreme ruler of the human world. Stopping at nothing, they even drank the blood of their fallen kinsmen to increase their own powers.

They kept slaughtering one another until only thirteen were left alive. Realizing they were on the verge of extinction, the remaining brothers, the Founders, agreed to divide the world among themselves, scattering
the vampire race to every corner of the globe.

As time passed and their numbers gradually increased, brother once more began to envy brother, leading to rivalries and vendettas. Whenever a patriarch was killed by a rival, his survivors were given the choice of either becoming a vassal of the one who killed their parent and usurped the family bloodright, or trying to rebuild their inheritance as New Bloods.

Most traded their freedom for protection. Those who chose to start over as New Bloods were made vulnerable to attacks from both humans and vampires. Because of this, New Bloods remained weak and of no real importance for thousands of years.

Then, six hundred years ago, Danton Gris coerced a number of New Blood families into forming the New Blood Alliance. They agreed to stop preying on one another and to come to one another's aid when attacked by Old Blood enemies. It wasn't long before vassals abandoned their liege lords in droves, sparking a century-long war that was ended by the signing of the Sangfroid Treaty. Since then New Blood and Old had lived in grudging coexistence.

“What are we going to do if we run into fledglings like us down there?” Oliver asked, breaking the tense silence. “I hear newbies are dirty fighters.”

“I'd like to see someone try and start shit with me,” Lilith said with a haughty toss of her head.

“Have you ever tangled with a New Blood, Lilith?” Oliver asked.

“No,” she replied. “Unless you want to count the Maledetto twins.”

“That's not fair,” Melinda said. “Bella and Bette's dad might be a newbie, but their mother's bloodright goes all the way back to Aeneas.”

“Yeah, but only one of them is going to inherit it,” Carmen replied.

“Hey, we can take them on,” Jules said, tired of all the procrastination.

Lilith picked up his cue. “I'm up for tapping some fresh red. Who's with me on that?” She grinned as her friends raised their voices in a raucous cheer.

“That's what I thought.”

 

Every vampire is taught from childhood that the easiest prey is the common prostitute or drug dealer. Such humans are used to being approached by strangers. They're willing to go to secluded areas with little persuasion. And when one of them disappears, who cares? True, sometimes individuals with specialized skills are needed, but the vast majority of undead who serve the true-born were once nothing more than criminals, whores, addicts, and pushers.

This was why, with all of Manhattan to choose from, Lilith and her friends were taking Jules's Mercedes
and Tanith's Bentley to Washington Square Park in search of kicks.

 

“My father would spit blood if he knew I was out slumming.” Lilith laughed. “I'm such a naughty girl.”

“Naughty, yes—but also nice.” Jules chuckled as he slid a hand up her skirt, caressing her upper thigh.

“I
love
slumming, don't you?” Lilith purred as she leaned her head against Jules's shoulder, shifting to allow his hand easier access. “It's so exciting. Luring a real, live victim gets me hot.”

“Me too,” Jules agreed as he fingered the elastic of her Agent Provocateur thong.

“Not now, Jules,” Lilith said as she slithered free of his grasp. “Later. After the hunt.”

Jules's eyes flashed as if he might press the issue, then he smiled and withdrew his hand from between her legs. “Whatever you say, baby.”

Lilith looked out the windows and saw that the Mercedes had come to a stop and that they were parked a few blocks from their destination. “We're here!” she shouted triumphantly, reaching over and popping open the door before the driver could do it for her. She looked over her shoulder and saw the others climbing out of Tanith's Bentley.

“Catch me if you can!” Lilith whooped, laughing as her friends chased after her, their shouts and laughter
echoing through the narrow, angled streets of Greenwich Village.

Although it was after two in the morning, the streets were far from deserted. There were still plenty of younger people, coming and going from various clubs and all-night diners, laughing and joking. As far as the casual observer could tell, Lilith and her friends were just another boisterous group of college kids on their way back to the NYU dorms after a night of partying.

Still giggling among themselves, the group headed toward the triumphal arch at the foot of Fifth Avenue and Washington Square North. Dramatically lit by strategically placed spotlights, the white marble monument looked like a giant gravestone.

Although lampposts lined the pathways, the park itself was considerably darker than the surrounding neighborhood. As the vampires walked through the arch to the large recessed fountain basin in the center of the square, they could make out at least a half dozen men prowling near the metal benches that ringed the path around the fountain wall. These shadowy figures in baggy pants, running shoes, and hooded sweatshirts were the true lords of Washington Square Park.

No doubt the dealers also thought Lilith and her friends were just another group of drunken revelers in search of drugs. Lilith smiled in anticipation of the
look of terrified surprise on the prey's face when he finally realized the truth.

Jules motioned for them to gather in closer, taking cover behind a small cluster of trees and a low fence with a sign that read
STAY OFF THE GRASS.
As usual, he had to play the role of the game master, setting down the rules for the others.

“One of us goes in and trances the prey into following them somewhere secluded, then we all move in. Extra points for trophies—something personal—from the prey. Drugs don't count. Now that we've got the ground rules, who wants to play the bait?”

“Ooh! Ooh! Me!”
Lilith said, waving her arm as if she were begging the teacher to call on her in class.

“Very well, Lilith it is,” he said with a laugh.

She turned and peered out from between the trees at the men loitering on the west side of the central fountain. She saw a fat African American guy with a gray beard sitting on a bench with an I
New York shopping bag stuffed full of what looked like wadded newspaper and discarded fast-food containers next to him.

Ewww.
She wasn't going to put the moves on some old, gross Buddha-belly guy. Whoever she picked had to at least be young and in good shape.

She zeroed in on a tall, gangly dealer leaning against one of the large carved granite outcroppings that were set into the fountain's sit wall like the points of a compass. His face was turned away from her and
his hands were hidden in the slash pockets of his navy blue hooded jacket.

The dealer's head swiveled like a radar dish as she approached, giving voice to the ubiquitous cry of the dealer: “Smoke? Smoke?”

Lilith stopped and turned to face him but didn't speak. Reading this as interest from a potential customer, the dealer motioned for her to move closer.

“How many?”

Lilith didn't step closer but instead favored him with a half smile. She saw the look on his face change from one of pure business to one that anticipated, hoped for, pleasure.

“You lookin' for something more, baby? 'Cause whatever it is, I got it,” he bragged.

Lilith ached to say something catty, but she didn't dare speak for fear of breaking her concentration. Since the easiest way to control a mind is to have the prey willingly focus on you and look you right in the eyes, being physically attractive is a distinct advantage.

As the dealer stared at the beautiful young girl before him, he suddenly realized he couldn't take his eyes off her. It was as if the entire world had telescoped down to her achingly perfect oval face and eyes, which seemed to glow in the dimness like those of a cat.

Lilith thought,
Come with me,
as hard as she could.

Although his arms and legs were numb, as if someone had shot them full of novocaine, the dealer was seized
by the desire to walk with this strange angel, wherever she might lead.

Lilith smiled to herself as he began to move toward her. However, before her prey took a second step, his head suddenly whipped to one side, as if he had heard someone shout his name—and then he stepped back.

What the hell?

Somehow the dealer's mind had slipped free of her control. This was definitely
not
supposed to happen, at least not to
her.
Lilith furrowed her brow, redoubling her concentration.

Look at me.

As the dealer slowly turned his head back toward her, Lilith could see that his eyes were unfocused and his jaw slack: obvious signs that the clot was indeed mesmerized.

Come with me.

The dealer stepped forward yet again, only to suddenly stop and wobble slightly on one foot, like a kid playing a game of freeze tag.

Lilith's face began to burn with frustration. She had no doubt the others were giggling their asses off as they watched her from their hiding place in the shadows.

NOW!

Her command echoed in the dealer's head like feedback from an electric guitar, causing him to lurch forward as if he'd been jabbed with a pitchfork. However, a
fraction of a second later he jumped backward, slamming into the granite outcropping so violently it looked like a phantom hand had shoved him against it.

Lilith scowled as she tried to figure out what was going on. The way her prey moved was more like a puppet on a string than an animal trying to escape a snare. But what could cause that kind of interference?