I remember the very first moment I realized Avery was a monster. Remember the sick feeling of betrayal. Remember how hard it was to walk into this house and pretend nothing had changed so I could free David and plan my revenge.
I'm experiencing all those feelings again. Now.
The doorbell is answered by a young man in a tuxedo. If he's the help, he isn't very good. He looks me up and down before turning on his heels and walking away. No greeting. No invitation to come in.
I guess jeans and T-shirts aren't proper attire. I should tell him I didn't get the memo.
We follow him in. The guy's human and, by the smell of him, has had sex recently. Very recently. Like maybe moments before. Musk and testosterone ooze from his pores like sweat.
It makes my nose wrinkle and my hormones jump into overdrive. A restless shift in Frey's posture tells me he senses the same thing.
We watch as he crosses the slate floor toward the source of the music. The living room. Voices with accents rise above the music and the clink of glasses. The last time I was here, Avery had inhabited a werewolf's body to try to kill me. What will it be this time?
"Ms. Strong?"
A female voice-a familiar female voice-calls to me from a door to the right. The kitchen, as I remember. I turn toward the voice.
"Dena?"
A young Eurasian with straight black hair smiles at me as if the last time we saw each other she had merely been Avery's housekeeper instead of his blood slave. She's dressed in a black skirt and starched white blouse, a wide black ribbon around her throat. In her hands, she holds a silver tray with champagne flutes and an ice bucket.
"What are you doing here?" I ask.
"Working."
"For Mrs. Williams?"
She laughs. "For you, silly. I have been since Dr. Avery left. I've kept the house running. I thought you knew. I missed you when his friend was here a couple of months ago. My mom was sick. I'm glad to see you're back now."
Someone from the next room calls, "What happened to those glasses?"
She turns toward the voice. "Gotta go. Your room has been prepared. I look forward to serving you."
Frey looks as confused as I feel. "You know her?"
"She was Avery's housekeeper. And one of his hosts. I thought she would have left the moment he did. Go figure."
I don't know what Dena said when she left us but suddenly, the music, the voices, the clink of glasses stops as if a switch has been thrown. The living room plunged from party central to morgue central.
Frey goes tense and still beside me. I'm glad he's here. A vampire and a panther. Should be able to cut a swath through whatever is thrown at us.
We wait. Count off ten, twenty, thirty seconds. Just when I'm ready to unleash the vampire and bring it to them, a familiar face appears in the doorway.
David.
He smiles when he sees me, would probably even give me a hug except that he has a big-breasted blonde hanging off each arm. "It's about time you got here. Judy said you might not make it until Tuesday. This is a helluva house, Anna. Why didn't you tell me you owned a mansion?"
David's got a goofy smile on his face and pupils the size of dinner plates. While his speech isn't slurred exactly, he speaks as if his tongue is too big and too heavy for his mouth.
Doesn't seem to be affecting his libido. His right hand has wandered down to grab the ass of the blonde on his right.
Got to hand it to Judy Williams, she treats her kidnap victims well. Don't know what David's on, but he's having fun.
David is a big guy-former pro football player, a bulky, muscular two-fifty on a six-foot-four frame. I carried him once, but he was unconscious and pliable. I have a feeling if I tried to deadlift him out of here now, he'd object.
Frey says, "What do we do now?"
David has moved things along from groping his playmates to kissing them-both, one after the other, with a lot of tongue action and deep-throated groans.
I wish I had a camera.
"Leave him. Let's go find our hostess."
Neither David nor the blondes notice when Frey and I walk around them and head toward the living room. It's still deathly quiet beyond the arched doorway. I have no idea what kind of reception to expect. We pause just out of the line of sight, then, like cops on a drug bust, take a quick step into the room. Frey goes to the left. I, to the right.
Judith Williams is standing in front of the fireplace. She smiles when she sees me and raises a glass in my direction. "Ladies and gentlemen, may I present Anna Strong. The one chosen to lead us for the next two hundred years."
There are seven vampires in the room. And ten humans. The humans have moved back to stand in a knot near the sliding wall of glass that separates the interior room from the outside deck. The young man who opened the door for us is among them. His expression isn't so contemptuous now that he realizes I'm not part of the kitchen staff. In fact, he has a decidedly nervous look about him. I meet his eyes, glare until he takes a fumbling step backward, then look away, hiding a smile.
May as well have some fun, too.
The wall is open to the night air, and the scent of the ocean mingles with the sweet smell of night-blooming jasmine. Under the natural scents, though is the smell of blood and earth. The smell of vampires.
Very old vampires.
The vampires raise their glasses in my direction.
"To Anna Strong." They say it in English, though the accents are varied. "And to the Year One."