Derrick was behind the counter, and the drinks were flowing. I watched him from the back for a little while, satisfied that he was doing a good job. On a whim, I cal ed Roman.
“Hey dude, how would you like to see my bar?” I asked when he smoothly answered the phone.
With a low laugh that set me on edge, he whispered, “I’ve seen it before, so no, but I’d like to see you. If that’s an invitation, I’m in the car now. I’l be there in five minutes.”
As I hung up, a shiver ran up my spine. The pul to Morio had been strong. I needed to blow off steam and I didn’t trust myself with Nerissa right now. I was too set on edge. I wanted to feed, even though I wasn’t hungry. Roman was my best choice at this moment.
I wandered over to the jukebox and slipped a few quarters in. “Tainted Love” by Marilyn Manson,
“Sister Midnight” by Bowie, “Personal Jesus” by Depeche Mode . . . al good dance songs. And sometimes dancing was the only way to get some of the hunger out of my body. I understood why Camil e liked the pounding rhythms she listened to— ear sex, she cal ed her alternative grunge-goth music.
I began to sway to the music. I might not be curvy, but my hips knew what to do, and the tightness of my jeans accentuated my hunger, making me ache for someone’s touch, for the feel of hands on my body. I’d final y accepted my sexuality and it had come through like gangbusters.
A few of the other customers joined me and we rose and fel to the music, letting it move our bodies as it raced from speaker to speaker around the bar. The beat throbbed through the wal s and floor, reverberating in my stomach. And then I looked up to see Roman standing at the door.
Everyone fel back as he entered the room. His hair was long and sleek, and he was wearing a pair of leather jeans and a jacket the color of crimson. He took one look at me, and the next second, he took me in his arms. As we danced, weaving and spinning to the music, everything else fel away and I began to transfer the hunger I’d felt for Morio to Roman. Before I knew it, we were kissing, my arms draped over his shoulders, his pelvis pressed against mine, as he wrapped his arms around my waist.
I rol ed my head back, fangs extended, and let out a long hiss. He echoed the greeting in return and his eyes flashed as he nuzzled my neck. “We need to fly,” he whispered. “We need to run, to own the city.”
Without a word, he led me to the door and we raced into the darkening streets. We explored the city via the rooftops, running so fast, so hard that the lights were a long, neon blur, streaks of time-lapse photography. Cars passed by in slow motion, the cacophony of a hundred conversations al blended into one. Building after building fel beneath our feet as the hiss of silent snow fel around us and we claimed the city rooftops for our own.
And stil the music echoed from behind me. I could hear it; it had worked its way into my system.
Then we were standing atop a rooftop, and his lips were on mine.
I returned the kiss, hungry and fierce. “I need to drink from you.”
He stripped the jacket away from his neck. “Please, my sweet. Drink. Drink deep, drink hard.”
I sank my fangs into the cream-pale flesh, and a shudder ran through my body as they slid easily into his neck. Blood wel ed up, sweet liqueur in my mouth, ambrosia of the damned. No longer metal ic, but like a fine port, thick and heady. I swal owed, coaxing more into me, and then felt Roman unzip his pants.
Struggling to keep control, I pul ed away and stripped out of my jeans and shirt. His gaze fol owed me, like a cheetah stalking his prey. His cock rose thick and pulsing and I throbbed deep inside, wanting to impale myself on him.
With a shriek, I wrapped my legs around his waist as he cradled my ass and thrust into me. As his delicious length and width spread me wide, I plunged my fangs back into him and he propped my back against a wal for leverage, fucking me hard.
As he drove into me time and again, I coaxed his blood, drawing my tongue along his neck as I sipped on the violent wine. His mother was the Queen of Vampires, Blood Wyne, and the royalty sipped on the violent wine. His mother was the Queen of Vampires, Blood Wyne, and the royalty rang in his life force—a dusky, rich, ancient taste of power. He was a god of ice, a god of heat, a god who had witnessed history come and go. He was Roman, and he wanted me.
“Come, Menol y, come, beautiful one.” His left hand slid off my butt, around to finger me, driving me further into the blood lust.
“Ivana Krask cal s me dead girl,” I whispered.
“Oh, but you are my dead girl. My consort. You may have al the playmates you wish, and you may marry your girlfriend and I wil dance at your wedding, but I have chosen you to be my consort.
I am the son of Blood Wyne. And at the cocktail party coming up at the Clockwork Club, I wil unveil our pairing.”
And then he began to thrust in earnest. His lips met my neck as his fangs pierced my flesh, and I lost myself in the haze of blood and passion, sliding into an orgasm from which I did not know if I could extricate myself. At last my mind stil ed, with only the sound of the fal ing snow to sing to us.
CHAPTER 20
“Roman, what did you mean about unveiling our pairing at the Clockwork Club?” The pressure off, I slid back into my clothing, then leaned against the railing that overlooked the street twenty stories below. The lights of the city were soft against the blanket of fal ing snow. Silent cars trailed slowly through the streets, hesitant ants slipping over the ice.
He hopped up to crouch on the lip of the building. A foot wide, the concrete walkway offered no handholds or supports. A balance beam, a game of Russian roulette, and yet he was rock steady.
“They’re having a pre-Solstice party, just a cocktail affair. I want to announce you then.”
“What does that mean, exactly?” I wasn’t sure what to expect.
“We wil attend the party as a couple, and I wil announce that you are now my consort. I have a standing in the community—”
“You mean your wil is the community’s wil .” I was beginning to sort out and understand the nature of Earthside vampire politics and wondered how I’d managed to stay so aloof from them until now. Though, to be fair to myself, we’d been rather busy with Shadow Wing and his retinue.
“Wel , yes. I control the vampire community on this continent, for the most part. And once I announce you as my official consort, you wil wield far more power than you do now. You wil almost be a queen in your own right. And I think you shal need that power during the coming months.” He paused. “I have foresight, to some extent. I am aware of your war against the demons.”
At my jerk of the head, he laughed. “Oh, Menol y, I’m aware of much more than you think I am.
Being my consort means you wil have that many more resources to cal upon. Should the Demon Lord decide to come through the portal himself, it means the vampire community wil ral y to help you if you demand it. As my consort, you wil wield that power.”
I stared at him. “You mean that if you snapped your fingers, the vampires around here would come running? Wade’s been trying to establish a communal effort for years with Vampires Anonymous, and he stil can’t get them to work together. Oh, and speaking of . . . What about Terrance? He tried to frame Wade for the murders our serial kil er is responsible for.”
“If you become my consort and lend Wade your backing, he wil have a much easier time. You think the vampires of the Clockwork Club wield authority? They kneel to me. We who live in power can exert a great deal of influence. If we choose. Which is another reason Terrance must die. He refuses to bow to our demands. He would set himself up as a petty general. We . . . I . . . am the power behind the public face of the vampire community in North America.”
“Who decided to create the Regencies? Wade led me to believe he had a hand in it.”
Roman shook his head. “No. Blood Wyne—my mother—decided it was necessary. It cements the family power, while offering a chance for nonroyal vampires to help decide local policies. Each continent wil be divided up into several Regencies and the sons and daughters of Blood Wyne wil oversee the Regents. The times are changing. As much as I fear my mother, she has final y convinced me of the necessity of an active monarchy.”
“So how wil this work?” Wade had told me one thing, but when I thought about it, his explanation had never been very clear.
“Blood Wyne wil emerge from the shadows for the world to know. However, she wil speak through her children, who wil speak through the Regents on each continent. And the Regents wil form the treaties with the breathers for vampire rights in exchange for certain concessions. The Regency was planned to be an elective office, but that is proving problematic so we are scrapping that plan and choosing the Regents for our mother, making sure they are powerful but balanced, and not terribly bloodthirsty. Neither Terrance nor Wade would do the job right.”
“So you wil be appointing the Regents?”
“Ostensibly they wil be elected, but yes, in truth, the Regents wil be vampires from the Old World, who already possess the strength and authority to make policy.”
I snorted. “You’re rigging the elections.”
“If you like, yes. And Terrance’s death wil be a statement to al vampires living within the Northwest Vampire Dominion. They wil know that Blood Wyne and her children are taking control, regardless of whether this be the New World or Europe.” He laughed. “Even I knew that my mother would make her move one day. There is no question of her al owing power to be diluted too far from the throne. I may not like her, but she is the queen and I wil obey.”
It occurred to me that Roman and Wade had something in common there. Only, Belinda Stevens was pretty much relegated to queen bee of her family. “So, when wil you take Terrance down?”
Roman laughed again. “Soon. Would you like to be there?”
My fingers itched to see Terrance get his just due. “If possible, yes.”
“I’l remember that. Now, in terms of your vampire serial kil er, what did Ivana find out for you?”
“Nothing about him, but she helped with the ghosts.” I leaned over the railing, staring out into the city. “We have to find him. If he hasn’t kil ed again, he’s bound to soon. I don’t want to see another woman lose her life to him.”
At that moment, my cel phone rang. I pul ed it out and gave Roman an apologetic smile. “Sorry, I have to answer. Could be . . . Hel o?”
“Menol y, there’s been another murder. Get down to the Greenbelt Park District. A back al ey near the diner. Fol ow the lights of the patrol cars.” Chase’s voice was abrupt, and he sounded tired.
“Fuck! Damn it to hel . Another one.” I shoved my cel back in my pocket. “I have to get back to the bar. I need my Jag. What’s the quickest way back?”
“Can’t you fly?” Roman’s brow narrowed. He looked confused.
“Fly? Oh babe, sorry. And I’m no good at doing the bat thing, either. I am vampirical y chal enged.”
He snorted. “Very wel . Come here.”
Enfolding me in his arms, he pul ed me up to stand beside him on the walkway. Before I had the chance to say a word, he had tipped us sideways and we were plunging toward the ground. I was about to scream when we caught up short on the breeze and, like a rocket, blurring through the streets, we flew.
We passed through the blur of concrete and lights faster than I’d thought possible. Within a couple of minutes, we were standing beside the bar, and I was leaning against my Jag.
“You have to teach me that,” I said, a faint smile on my face. “You want to come with?”
Roman shook his head. “No, this is not my affair. But go and good hunting. Stop him. I wil be in touch.” And like a dark shadow, he was gone and within a moment, a dark limo pul ed away from the curb up ahead and sped into the night.
I took a moment to recoup and then climbed into my Jag and slammed the door. As I fastened my seat belt and started the car, I couldn’t help but wonder where everything was leading me. I’d kil ed Sassy and reclaimed a friendship I’d thought long gone. My daughter, Erin, was set to work with a group I approved of. Nerissa and I were in love and engaged. Roman had claimed me for his consort. And over everything, Shadow Wing stil loomed, dark and ominous.
And here, tonight, murder reigned. Bodies here, bodies there, corpses, bodies, everywhere, and not a kil er in sight to catch.
I parked near the first patrol car I found and headed toward the sounds emerging from the al eyway ahead. This time, the girl was stil warm. A fresh kil meant that our vampire was probably stil in the area. I was looking for Chase when I got a cal from Wade.
“Menol y, I think I’ve got something for you. I was trying to remember what seemed wrong about that one vampire I told you about. Tonight, I was watching TV and it hit me.”
“Talk to me, babe. We just found another victim and he might stil be in the area.” I caught sight of Chase, over by a prone body, and waved to him. Pressing my phone closer to my ear to block out the low buzz of voices coming from the cops, I said, “What have you got?”
“He was wearing a clerical col ar.”
“Say what?” I leaned against my car, wondering if I’d heard him right.
“I said, he was wearing a clerical col ar. That’s what struck me as so odd.”
“You think he may be a priest?”
“No—I’m thinking he may have been one. Or a minister. Or some other member of the clergy.”
He paused. “If so, being turned into a vampire could very wel have messed with his belief system and mind bad enough to make him kil . Remember, I was a psychologist before I was kil ed. This would be the classic setup for a serial kil er of the undead set.”