Chapter 6
CHAPTER SIX
Next evening, I woke to find that the storm had done a number on some of our trees.
But I had slept through it, wandering in the gritty streets of a nameless city, under the unending rain.
I had passed faceless men and women sleeping under cardboard, and I could feel their fear of the darkness and the hidden dangers lurking in the shadows.
“We should head out,” Camille said. “I made a couple of calls today. It sounds like the Nightmare’s the place to go for dancing. It’s on the second level of the Underground.”
She was dressed in a purple corset with black velvet trim.
Beneath the corset, she wore a flowing black skirt and stiletto sandals.
Her boobs were as big as my head, but they worked for her.
I couldn’t imagine coping with that amount of breastage, and was grateful that I didn’t need a bra.
Although, our Fae heritage made everything perkier, so bras were even a choice for Camille.
Delilah was also dressed to go, wearing camo pants, along with an olive tank top and brown cowboy boots. She’d found a brown plaid beret somewhere and, somehow, it fit her outfit.
“Let me go change,” I said. I dashed down to my lair, where I slid into a pair of black jeans so tight they looked painted on, a black turtleneck, knee high black leather boots and a denim vest with rhinestones. Camille joined me and did my makeup for me, and we were ready to rock.
We headed out in Camille’s sedan, heading toward downtown Seattle.
Years ago, the city was below sea level in some areas and regularly flooded.
Then, in one fateful moment, a huge portion of the city went up in flames.
By the time the flames were quenched, a major section of the business district was gone.
When the city rebuilt, they built the new level over twenty feet above the original, creating an underground labyrinth of old streets and buildings.
Decades later, parts of it were used for underground nightclubs, but as the vamps moved in, the humans moved out.
Now, it was primarily vampire-country, so to speak, though humans, shifters, and low-life Fae tended to congregate there.
The humans, more to say they walked on the wild side and lived, though there were actually fewer deaths there than in the city streets.
The underground was a tangle of shops and nightclubs and vampire lairs.
We finally found a parking space and Camille made sure the protection ward she’d bought was in place to guard the car. She’d tried making her own at first, but that only ended up with the car going into the shop for a week.
“Have you ever been to this club?” I asked.
Camille shook her head. “No, but one of my customers said it’s the place to go clubbing right now. It’s fairly new, and it’s on the second level so it’s still in relatively safe territory.” She pulled her cape tighter around her shoulders, making sure the hood protected her hair.
I wore my hair in tiny braids, with beads that made noise when I walked. That—and the sound of my boots—gave me comfort. Sometimes, because I didn’t need to breathe and I never heard the sound of my heart beating—because it didn’t—I had panic attacks.
So, I dressed to make noise. To distract myself from the fact that I truly existed in a body already dead, but that would never die until I chose death.
I avoided thinking of the other ways—vampire slayers, and the like—because I couldn’t control that side of life.
Ever since Dredge, my life had been all about control.
The Underground had a number of entrances, and all were, by law, supposed to be guarded.
Minors weren’t permitted, though teens—especially—managed to sneak in all the time.
The guard at the door took one look at us and nodded us in.
He was a shifter, that much I could tell, though what kind I didn’t know.
We entered the hustle and bustle of the first level.
The place was always busiest at night. During the day, most of the shops were closed, and the only ones prowling the hallways would be humans, shifters, and the like.
The vamps who lived down here were safely locked behind metal doors, most of them in high security complexes where anybody seeking to destroy them would be caught and unceremoniously turned out.
I looked around. The corridors were marked by a complex numbering system that included level, quadrant area, and where you were in relation to the front entrance. Elevators were found by each locator sign, and I led my sisters over to the nearest one.
“What’s the address?” I asked.
“Level 2, and it should be directly below us. He said it was near the front elevator bay,” Camille said.
The elevators had been a recent addition, mostly for accessibility, but it only made sense, especially if there needed to be a quick evacuation. The stairwells weren’t exactly the easiest to find and navigate.
The doors opened and we found ourselves right in front of the Nightmare. People were threading in and out of the doors, and there were two burly vampires acting as bouncers. We headed toward the back of the line—which, by now, wasn’t too long—and settled in to wait.
The club itself was sedately decorated, at least from the outside.
The logo on the sign showed a rather horrendous looking horse, with the word “Nightmare” coming out of its mouth.
The horse was in black and white, the name of the club in a red outlined with a thin marking of gold and then black, against the white background.
There were no windows opening into the hallway, but instead, a display of potted plants that had to be fake. Nothing could grow down here without sunlamps except moss and mildew, and the Underground was too well-kept for that to happen. At least in all the places we had seen so far.
As we approached the bouncers, they looked us over and motioned for us to enter.
Apparently, we looked old enough because they didn’t even card us.
I thought about complaining to the city, but then again, the bouncers would be able to tell I was a vamp, given they could sense the heartbeats of the living.
And Camille and Delilah looked around twenty-five or so in human years, though we were all far older.
We entered the club and the sounds of techno engulfed us.
The club itself was a whirl of red, black, and white, with a checkerboard dance floor and rotating spotlights that bathed the dancers in crimson.
The bar was to our left, a long, sleek polished black counter, with matching barstools.
Around the edges of the dance floor, booths offered privacy, and to the right, a few tables gave customers the chance to watch the dancing front and center.
“Where do you want to sit?” I asked.
Camille motioned to the nearest free table. “Get our drinks. I’ll grab the table!” She had to shout to be heard.
As she maneuvered Delilah to the table, I headed for the bar.
The woman behind the counter gave me the once-over and grinned a fangy-smile.
She was gorgeous, tall with long legs and tight abs.
Apparently, she’d been turned at the peak of her looks.
Her eyes were still a frosty green, so she hadn’t been a vampire too long.
“What’ll it be?” she asked, slapping the bar rag across her shoulder.
“Bottle of blood, a Shirley Temple, and a Tequila Sunrise.” Delilah didn’t drink much.
Neither did Camille, but she handled her liquor a lot better than Kitten.
“Also, an order of fried calamari, and some nachos.” Just because I couldn’t eat, didn’t mean that I expected Camille and Delilah to forego food when we were out together.
“The waitress will bring them over to your table when they’re ready,” the vamp said.
“Thanks, Keri,” I said, glancing at her nametag before I headed back to the table.
We weren’t there more than five minutes when some shifter came up to ask Camille to dance.
He was tall and dressed in black leather, with long blonde hair.
She gracefully accepted and headed to the dance floor.
Even though a little extra padding wasn’t socially considered beautiful over here, Camille had glamour that wouldn’t quit.
By the time the dance was finished, our drinks and food had come. Camille thanked the man she had danced with and politely declined a second dance, returning to the table. As she sat down and picked up her drink, he frowned, then wandered off.
“Have fun?” I asked.
She rolled her eyes. “He’s got looks, but he’s too handsy. And I’m just…” She trailed off.
I knew she was thinking about Trillian. He was her bonded love, but they’d been separated for several reasons—Father being the primary.
He hated the Svartan, and had done his best to drive a wedge between the two.
As sexual as Camille was, she hadn’t been able to put her heart into another relationship for a while now.
“Well, there’s no harm in dancing,” Delilah said. “I think I’ll take a turn on the floor.” She loved to dance, though she preferred dancing alone. Delilah was still very young, in terms of her personality—she wasn’t that interested in men, and she never expressed an interest in dating.
As she headed for the floor, I turned to Camille. “What do you think?”
“What do you mean?” she asked, sipping on her drink.
“Will our sister ever decide to get married and have a family? Or even just date?”
Camille thought about my question. “You know, I’m not sure. Kitten’s never really talked about guys—and I don’t think she’s interested in women, either. She and I don’t talk much about sex. I think it makes her uncomfortable, though I’m not sure.”
“Well, that doesn’t surprise me. Maybe she just isn’t interested.
” I shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter.
She’ll be whoever she’s meant to be.” I glanced around the room.
There were a lot of humans around, a few vamps, and several shifters.
The club was more for thrill-seeker wannabes than actual vamps.
Camille was eating the calamari when a young man stopped by our table.
He couldn’t have been more than around twenty, and he was obviously goth.
He was pale as shit, wearing a black pair of jeans, a black velvet tunic, and enough jewelry to weigh down a pack mule. At least he’d steered clear of silver.
“Excuse me?” The note in his voice was way-too eager beaver.
“Yes?” Camille asked, but his eyes were fastened on me.
“Are you a vampire?”
Uh oh, I knew the drill. I nodded. “Yeah.” I never gave these guys an opening.
“I…are you looking for a bloodwhore?” he asked, a dribble of spit on his lip.
I shifted, uncomfortable. I didn’t want to make a scene, but I wanted to squelch his hopes as firmly as possible. I turned on my glamour and stared him down, lowering my fangs. “You think it’s glamorous, don’t you? Being a vampire? Being used by a vampire?”
He coughed and shifted. “I…I…”
“What’s your name?” I said, using the command voice.
“Eddie,” he whispered, licking his lips.
“Well, Eddie…you think being a vampire’s all about sex and passion? You’d just love to be some vampire’s toy, right?” I leaned forward, keeping my voice low.
Rolling up my sleeve, I shoved my arm toward him. The scars covered my skin like some intricately textured leather.
“Look. You think this didn’t hurt? Well, let me tell you, Eddie, you’ve never tasted pain like this.
My entire body was my sire’s canvas, and he took all night, using a small, dull knife.
He destroyed everything good in my world that he could, and he tried to make me destroy the rest. You want that?
How would you like to end up on your family’s doorstep, ready to drain them dry and leave their lifeless husks on the floor? ”
“I…I…” Eddie worried his lip, no longer looking eager.
“You want a little advice, Eddie?”
Looking like he’d rather be anywhere than here, Eddie nodded, shifting from foot to foot. “Sure.”
“Being turned isn’t like some scene out of Dracula, drenched in hot, sweaty sex.
You want to be drained of your blood, used like toilet paper and then thrown away?
You may not like the sun but you’ll never be able to look at it again.
You’ll never again taste your favorite foods; you’ll never taste anything but the metallic taste of blood.
Got anything you want to change about your body?
Too bad, your body will be frozen in time.
” I glared at him. “You think you know what you want, but you’re barely out of diapers, boy.
Do you want a family someday? You’ll never be able to be a father.
And any woman worth her salt won’t trust you around her kids because, like it or not, we’re predators. This isn’t cosplay, boy.”
“But…” He deflated in front of me. “I just…”
“What you want is some control in your life, right?” I asked.
Once again, he nodded. “Nobody respects me,” he whispered.
“Being a vampire won’t change that. Respect isn’t worth the paper it’s written on if you don’t earn it.
And respect garnered through fear isn’t respect.
If you want respect, find a way to earn it.
Do something wonderful with your life. Give something back to the world.
Power for power’s sake is worthless.” I sat back. “Well, what do you have to say now?”
I half expected him to shrug off what I had said, but he met my eyes and straightened his shoulders. “Sit down.”
He set down beside Camille, in one of the empty chairs. “That’s what my Nana says. She actually listens to me. She’s the only one who cares.”
“Your parents don’t approve of your choices, am I right?” Camille interrupted.
Eddie shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t matter…I just…I wish my dad would get off my back about how I never do anything right. I try, but I can’t be the person he wants me to be.”
“Parents can be brutal,” I said. “Trust me, we understand. But don’t throw away your future to get revenge. Use that anger, use that sadness to build something that matters to you. Your parents’ opinions won’t matter, if you’re happy in your own life.”
He sat there for a few moments till Delilah returned, then he slid out of his chair. “Thanks. I’ll think about what you said.” He turned toward the door. “I think I’ll go take a walk.”
As we watched him leave the club, I hoped that he could find his way.
In the short time we’d been over Earthside, it had amazed me how many kids wanted to be vampires.
They thought it would give them autonomy.
They didn’t realize they’d be forever enslaved to a hunger that would never be satiated.
And that they’d truly understand what being alone meant.
“Who was that?” Delilah asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“Someone I hope I got through to,” I said.