White Winter (The Black Year Series Book 2) (10 page)

Gritting his teeth, he grabbed a blood pack with his left hand and pulled the tab with his teeth. He stared at the pack for a second, wondering how he was going to put the straw in when Eve snatched it from him. His jaw clenched and his canines extended.

“Jonas!” she whispered. “People are staring!”

Jonas noticed the cafeteria had gone quiet. He closed his lips around his teeth, feeling like a kid with braces, and straightened out of the half-crouch he’d gotten into when Eve stole his food. Eve stabbed the straw into blood pack and handed it to him. He kept his eye on her as he drank.

“Anyway - not that you guarding the fridge isn’t hot - but how about I grab a couple of those and go back to my room instead of letting everyone watch me feed you?”

He finished the pack and tossed it in the recycling. “Okay.” He moved away from the fridge, feeling a little embarrassed now that he didn’t feel so empty. As they headed for the door, he saw Viviane and Jim sitting across from each other, fingertips touching on the tabletop.

♘

“So that was weird, right?” Jonas said, sitting on Eve’s bed.

“What, you acting like I was stealing your food?”

“No, Viviane and Jim.” He accepted the proffered blood pack and took a long pull. “Thanks.”

Eve settled in her desk chair. “You’re welcome. And no, it wasn’t weird. They like each other.”

“But, she’s like seventy years older than him.”

Eve shrugged. “I’m happy for her. I’m happy for me, to be honest; she’s been nicer, lately. Want another one?”

Jonas stopped sucking on the empty pack. “Yeah, thanks.” He managed to loft the empty pack into Eve’s trashcan left-handed and did a mental victory dance.

“Here you go.”

“Thanks.”

She sat back down. “Anyway, she’s been alone for decades, and she’s never had a fledgling. Maybe she’ll turn him.”

Jonas choked, coughing blood into his hand.

“Don’t get blood on my bed!” she said, jumping from her chair.

He panicked. She grabbed the blood pack from him - he didn’t mind, this time - and he stumbled over to the sink. He managed to work the faucet with his wrist, too-hot water came out, and he flapped his hand under it. He heard a squeak behind him, and saw Eve covering her mouth in the mirror. “What?”

Her shoulders shook, then she said, “You’re just so pathetic with your arm curled up and trying to wash your hands, it’s kind of adorable.”

He scowled. “You’re the one who panicked about your bed.”

“Did not!”

“Did too.” He patted his hand on the towel, and she laughed at him again.

“It’s not that funny.”

She walked over, biting her lip, and handed him the mostly empty pack. “It’s a little funny, sweetie.” She leaned forward to kiss him.

“Careful.”

“I’m being careful.” She put her arms around his waist; her lips felt soft against his. It was nice, in spite of the awkwardness of holding his right arm out of the way. “How did that happen, anyway?” she said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I punched a werewolf.”

“He has you training against werewolves? That’s insane!”

“No, I was visiting Kieran’s family when it happened.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. But it’s better now, I think. At least everyone seemed happier. It only happened today.”

She raised her head. “Why were you in the training room, then?”

He cringed. “Damien thought it was a good learning opportunity.”

She looked angry again. “That just sounds like hazing”

“Oh, I learned a lot. How to fight one handed, how stop blows with my body, and why I should never, ever hit someone’s skull with a closed fist.” He grinned. She didn’t. “Seriously, though. He’s really intense, but I’m learning a lot.”

She scoffed and pulled away from him, but he held her with his left arm. “I’ll get blood on you,” he said. The pack in his hand crinkled.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I might.” He kissed her again. They spent more time on it this time.

“So, why’d you freak out about Viviane and Jim?” she said.

He sighed. “There may be something I should have told you.”

He opened his barrier. She frowned, but reached out with her mind and their memories merged.

♘

Eve’s heels clicked on the pavement as she walked past the line, her white halter-top, cropped black motorcycle jacket, and black sequined leggings drawing stares from the men and some of the women.
Nothing like a glamour to make a girl feel special.
The werewolf shadowing her drew stares too.

“There’s a line,” the bouncer said without looking up from his list.

“I’m cutting it.”

The man looked up, fixing her with his freaky, eyebrowless stare. “Too young,” he said. “Your uncle can come in, but you’ll have to wait in the car.”

“I’m older than I look.”

He grunted. “Yeah, I haven’t heard that one before.”

“
I’m law enforcement.”

“With what, the FBI’s junior agent program?”

She tightened her grip on her clutch. “It’s enforcer, not agent.” He paled a little at that and touched his earpiece.

A few seconds later, a man with a black “Manager” shirt stepped out of the club. She probed his mind and ran into a brick wall. He was warded.
At least I know this is the right place.

“
You’re with the Agency?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, well, I’m
human,
and your muscle doesn’t scare me. My boss has a senator on speed dial, so piss off.”

“I’m not her muscle,” the werewolf rumbled, “I’m her lawyer, and if you don’t let her past I’ll have your alcohol license pulled.”

“On what basis?” he said, crossing his arms.

“Selling alcohol to minors.”

The bouncer frowned. “That’s bullshit; I card everyone at the door.”

“They didn’t come in the door, they went in the loading dock,” Eve said. The manager swallowed; she saw his pulse pounding in his neck.

“You’ll just bust me anyway if I let her in.”

The werewolf removed his sunglasses and smiled, eyes burning yellow. “She’s older than she looks.”

♘

The inside of the club was all black walls, purple and blue lighting, two glass bars and the kind of music Jonas enjoyed; Eve didn’t, in spite of them swapping memories on occasion. It didn’t tell a story. The crowd did, though.

The dance floor was a tight press of twenty-somethings, all swinging hips and waving arms, a little jumping up and down, and some failures of coordination. It was sweaty, muddled, more instinctive than human but still peppered with anxiety, not as sexy as a music video but suspiciously better than average.

She reached out with her mind, lines of thought spreading like a fine web, and felt the nudges, suggestions, and outright manipulation coming from the vampires in the room. They sat in alcoves, leaned on the railing of the second floor, or moved gracefully between the dancers, watching, experiencing, and playing with the humans on the dance floor. Others drank from thralls openly, with club staff looking on, though she didn’t think the dancers were aware. Money changed hands.

A college boy with a too-tight shirt and two drinks in his hands headed toward her from the bar, and she cringed as she heard him rehearsing the pickup line in his head. She almost made him spill his drink on himself, but instead she spun one of the dancers out of the crowd to pluck the glass out of his hand and pull him to the side.

“Oh, well done! They’ll love that,” someone said in a light British accent.

The man next to her wore a charcoal suit and a black shirt he’d left open at the collar. His skin was a warm brown, like sepia, but she would have mixed in a touch of cadmium red to show how “alive” he felt.

“This can’t be legal,” she said.

He shrugged and smiled. “You should stop by for chess night.”

Her shoulders tensed.

“Just a laugh, Miss. No need to bring the wrath of the Agency down upon us. The humans have a good time and leave no worse for wear.” He stuck his hand out and said, “I’m Ravi.” A gold watch peeked out from his right sleeve.

Eve hesitated.

“I’m a standard, Miss. Nothing to worry about.”

His surface thoughts indicated he was telling the truth. She shook his hand. “Eve Gallagher.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms. Gallagher. What brings the Agency to my establishment this fine evening?”

“You’re the owner?”

“Yes.”

“Your manager wasn’t very helpful.”

“He was new.”

Eve swallowed. “You killed him?”

He snorted. “I fired him. His job was either to keep you out or cordially invite you in. He did neither.” He smiled at her. His teeth were startlingly white. “And now, I really must ask you what you’re doing here, because I really do have a senator on speed dial.”

He was telling the truth. Eve did her best to look unimpressed, but he could ruin weeks of work with a phone call so she needed him to cooperate. “I’m hunting a rogue vampire.”

Ravi’s stance didn’t change, but his tone did. “Do it somewhere else. I don’t need the Agency scaring my clients over quotas or missing paperwork.”

“He drains people dry.”

He raised an eyebrow. “That seems-”

“One bite, victim completely exsanguinated, no sign of a struggle. He started in San Diego and worked his way here,” she said, crossing her arms. “Before you ask, he’s wasn’t starving. He’s done this five times, kills every two weeks, and always targets the same profile.”

“Which is?”

“Young and female, usually loners or runaways.”

“Ah.”

“What do you mean, ‘Ah’?” she said.

“Nothing at all,” he said, his expression neutral, eyes scanning the crowd.

If the local director hadn’t said you were off limits, I’d have you dancing the robot with the humans,
she thought.

“Her,” he said, nodding his head.

Eve turned and saw her. Arms crossed, trying to look tough and only managing to look isolated and scared. Dirty blonde hair tied back in a ponytail, revealing a young face. Eve frowned at her host. “She’s just a kid.”

Ravi shrugged. “Legal age is fifteen, but she shouldn’t be in here. Another one of my former manager’s mistakes.”

“That’s what I-”

He shook his head. “It’s not her age; she’s just not interesting. All you’d get from feeding off her is a dose of self-pity. You see that old guy in the biker jacket?”

Eve looked and saw a human sitting at a table with two vampires. He looked Willie Nelson at about 70. “What about him?”

“He fought in Korea and Vietnam, started his own export company in East Africa, then sold it to become a professional treasure hunter. People used to pay 10,000 dollars for half a pint of his blood and ten seconds of being in his head. He’s too old to give the tithe anymore, but people drop thousands on the table to listen to his stories.”

The old guy slammed his fist on the table, making the two vampires jump, then the three of them were laughing again.

“And that woman over there-”

Eve pulled her heels off and said, “Shut up for a second.”

His eyes narrowed and his composure evaporated, but Eve was already running toward the back of the room, dancers whirling out of her way like she was part of the choreography. The girl Ravi thought wasn’t worth feeding on was gone.

CHAPTER 13

“Drop the knife and let her go!”

Eve ran out into the parking lot behind the club and saw the rogue backing away from three Agency soldiers. He had a knife under the girl’s chin, and his fangs buried in the side of her neck.

“I said drop it!” the soldier shouted, finger tightening on the trigger. Eve stepped between him and the rogue, raising her hand toward the muzzle.

“It’s okay!” She turned to the rogue. “You’re going to come quietly, aren’t you?”

He continued to back away steadily. The girl was smiling, eyes glazed over, but the rogue was surprisingly lucid. She saw his Adam’s apple bob with each swallow, and it was as if she was right back in that parking lot behind the movie theater in her hometown.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” Eve said, willing herself to stay focused. She snaked three separate tendrils of thought toward him, feeling for an opening in his barrier. His mind was surprisingly fragmented, like a puppeteer’s, but weaker and without her training. Feeling something solid, she closed her eyes and stepped into his mind.

♘

“Hi!” a cheerful voice said, and Eve felt tiny arms wrap around her waist. Eve squinted and raised her hand against the sunlight.

“Are you our new friend? Edward said we’d get to meet a new friend today.”

“She’s not our new friend, Hannah. She’s a stranger.”