It was decadent. She didn’t know how else to describe it. Somehow, a vast expanse of concrete basement had been turned into a den of ragged opulence and open debauchery. The floors had been covered in hardwood, which still gleamed despite years of feet and who knew what else on it. A massive circular bar dominated the center of the space, though Lily wasn’t certain she wanted to know what was dispensed into the heavy crystal goblets that hung suspended above the bartenders’ heads and that they continually plucked to fill with whatever was hidden behind the wall of people obscuring the counter from view. Music throbbed and pulsed, blending with the rise and fall of the many voices as the vampires chattered, flirted, and fought. And Lily was pretty sure she caught a glimpse of a dance floor at the far end of the room. It was almost funny: a club like this existing, unknown, in the middle of a neighborhood full of humans who seemed like they would be hunting for just such a place.
The walls were covered in silken fabric, shimmering in the light of hundreds of candles. They were everywhere, flickering in sconces, dancing on the tall, glass-topped tables scattered randomly about, making what should have been a dark, dank place seem to glow. Concrete pillars had been encased in wood, in marble. Gilt-edged mirrors reflected the feral eyes of the crowd. And though Lily found herself stunned by the place, it was the crowd that she couldn’t look away from.
At first glance, she’d thought they looked like beautiful mortals, some dressed impeccably, others in jeans. But to look for more than a few moments was to see the truth. Their eyes danced with light that had nothing to do with the candles, and each mouth that opened to speak, to laugh, to snarl, revealed a pair of shining fangs. Many wore clothing that bared their marks, and some seemed to have incorporated more tattoo work, as the bouncer had, to showcase and enhance the signs of their bloodlines. They moved like dancers, quick and graceful, and the collective sound of their voices was as musical as the song that throbbed sinuously throughout the room. And as far as throbbing went…
Ty squeezed her hand tightly and gave her a quick yank when he caught her gaping, wide-eyed, at two incredible-looking men sharing a pretty blonde who also had a ribbon at her throat. One was behind her, one in front, and both had their teeth in her neck. The blonde, however, didn’t seem to mind. Her eyes were closed, her face contorted with pleasure, and her skirt had been hiked up to accommodate—
“If you don’t want to be invited to join them, then quit bloody looking at them,” Ty growled in her ear. Lily could only swallow hard and nod. She managed to tear her eyes away, though she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. She’d had a taste of what that woman was feeling, she realized. But seeing that, seeing how it could be, imagining how it might be if Ty decided to push her up against the wall…
She stumbled a little as Ty dragged her forward, and she caught sight of another couple locked in a similarly erotic embrace. It didn’t seem to bother anyone; a few watched, casually interested, while most ignored. There were no boundaries here, Lily realized, or at least not the same ones that applied in most parts of the human world.
Her chest suddenly felt tight, her skin too sensitive. And her palm, clutched in Ty’s hand, went slick with sweat and heat. Her entire life had been about control and, to a certain extent, denial. To be thrust into a place where it seemed to be encouraged, even celebrated, to have neither was more than a little overwhelming.
And surprisingly tempting.
The air smelled like incense and wax, and Lily wondered whether she’d ever be able to smell either again without being swamped by lust.
Then Ty’s breath was feathering her ear, sending hot little shivers over her skin, and she knew she wouldn’t.
“There,” he said. “I can see Anura, in the white, dancing. If she asks you anything, don’t answer—let me do the talking. Things have changed here. I’m just not sure how much.”
It struck Lily that Ty didn’t seem to be affected the way she had. If anything, he seemed more tense. She looked past him, into the crowd, and immediately saw the woman he meant. Lily got only a fleeting glimpse of a dark-haired beauty dancing with an abandon Lily had only ever dreamed of, before another voice sounded, dangerously close.
“Well, well,” murmured a voice into her ear. “How did a gutterblood ever get his teeth into you, beautiful? I think it’s time you moved up in the world.”
Lily stiffened. Tynan growled. She was fairly certain that the night had just gone completely to hell.
Chapter TEN
DAMIEN TREMAINE LEANED casually against the building not a block from Mabon, watching the stinking sea of humanity mill blindly around him. It had been so long since he had been one of them; he really had no memory of it. Oh, he could recall various things he had done, people he had known, places he had seen, but the memory of what it had truly meant to be human, to live and breathe with the knowledge of his own mortality, had vanished.
He would never be part of “good” vampire society, would always wear a mark that kept that from him. But he had worked for many of them and had picked up quite a few of their attitudes, particularly about the limited uses for mortals. And why not? The House of Shadows was its own sort of aristocracy, Damien reasoned. It could provide a good life, if not an easy one. And fortunately for the Shades like him who had built formidable reputations of their own, there was no possibility that they would be driven out or disappear.
The highbloods, vicious, weak-minded fools that they were, had forgotten how to exist without them.
The cell phone in his pocket vibrated, and Damien took the call. It was nothing he wanted to deal with, but it had to be taken care of. Hell had no fury like an unhappy customer.
“Tremaine.”
The voice on the other end of the line was so cold Damien could almost feel the chill air oozing from the phone.
“Damien. Tell me, what exactly am I paying you for? Because despite the fact that I’m out a fairly large chunk of cash, I do seem to have forgotten why.”
The voice was calm, subdued, even. But Damien had learned that beneath the calm veneer was the sort of monster one rarely encountered anymore among his kind. Most highbloods were pompous cowards, looking for others to do their dirty work for them. Not this one, though. Behind the beautiful mask, this one was pure darkness.
Damien fought the urge to squirm. He could handle this. He’d been requested specifically because he could.
“The woman’s not what we expected.” He remembered the mark that had glittered on her collarbone, the shock of it. He might not have believed it, except for what she had done. Except for the power that had ripped through him like a force of nature.
“I think you’d better explain yourself,” the voice hissed. “Because a Seer is just a squishy little mortal with a better-developed mind. And to have it take this long is unconscionable.”
Damien suffered a moment of indecision, a rarity for him. But he pushed through it quickly enough and relayed, in hushed and urgent tones, what he had seen and all that had occurred. After all, it had little to do with him. He was being paid for a service. Best to just provide that service and get on with his own business.
Besides, this one would be a dangerous enemy to make, should he suddenly decide to grow a conscience. This one, Damien felt sure, would know. Then he’d be the one disappearing.
When he’d finished, there was a long silence. Damien waited, very still. It was one of his gifts, his stillness, and one that had contributed greatly to his abilities as a killer. Tynan had learned much, but he’d never learned that. He’d always been brooding and restless, and loyal enough to make him just a little bit foolish. Damien had sometimes wondered whether it would ever catch up with his old friend.
Seemed it finally had.
His employer eventually spoke, and the tone was thoughtful, deliberating, and full of a dark pleasure that managed to stir a bit of pity in Damien’s breast for his pretty mark. Truly, she had no idea what was after her. She’d never had a chance.
“You’re certain she’s mortal,” the voice said.
Damien remembered her scent, the terrified beating of her heart. They stirred him, despite himself. He’d wanted her, to feel her in his arms as she went under, to taste her. And he was suddenly certain that the pleasure was about to be taken from him.
“She’s as mortal as she can be,” Damien replied. “And no control over what’s in her. The blood might not have died, but the knowledge that went with it seems to have. Lily Quinn is an orphan,” he said, relaying the bit of pertinent information he’d dug up on her. “Parents disappeared under mysterious circumstances when she was just an infant. No next of kin, no extended family. She was adopted, but she doesn’t appear to have any contact with the family. No trace of them in her house anyway. Not a picture. There’s a story there, I’m sure. I can dig that up for you, if you like. Just take a little more work.”
“No. No more delays. This is taking too long as it is. MacGillivray was never supposed to find anyone,” the voice said flatly. “The damned cat was supposed to be an afterthought, not the center of this. But since he’s put himself there and found such an interesting prize. Really, I should have known. He does seem to have an uncanny knack…. ”
Damien felt a muscle in his jaw twitch. No, he would not be getting the woman as a perk. That was certain.
“Well, there’s no reason to waste such a fascinating creature,” his employer finished. “And that the blood still has so much latent power… useless to someone like her but imagine the possibilities in the right hands… yes,” the voice said, and Damien could hear loud and clear the one thing he’d found all highbloods had in common: greed.
“Kill the gutter cat. Bring the woman to me. I’ll want her drugged and bound, of course. She had enough control to throw you, and I’d hate to have to kill her so quickly. Once you have her, I’ll give you the location. I’ll want to keep this private.” The tone sharpened. “Does he know what she is?”
“No. But he wouldn’t have come here first if he hadn’t decided to try and find out.”
