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Before he could answer out loud, she cursed in Spanish. “You fucking new recruits are never ready.”
With her coat in place, she strutted over and shoved him out of the way. “I’m not giving you none of mine. After the meeting, we get you the weapons.”
Evan opened his mouth to—
His body just started forward after the woman, falling in line and heading up a flight of rickety stairs. After he went through another door that only appeared to be flimsy—but which shut with a clang like it was made of steel—he found himself out on the street. Glancing around, he wasn’t sure of his precise location. Did he really need it, though? This was some avenue in the teens, about ten blocks to the south of the Financial District.
“Come on. We late and I ain’t a tour guide.”
The woman had strides like she was in the NBA despite her short stature. He kept up easily, however, his body resuming that strange state of physical performance that didn’t seem to require—
Hold on. Why wasn’t he hungry? He hadn’t eaten in an entire day. He wasn’t thirsty, either—
His hand shot out and grabbed the woman’s arm, going anchor on their forward motion. “What is going on here. You need to tell me.”
As she wheeled around, she looked like she was going to slap him, and the fact that her disdain reminded him of Mickey made him hurt for so many reasons. But then he wasn’t thinking about everything he’d lost and how disappointed in his family he’d always been.
There was something wrong with her eyes. Her pupils were black, but the irises were nearly white, only a little ring delineating where the line of color was. And then there was her hair. Though it was dark, the new growth was icy white, like she colored it often.
“Please,” he said. “Help me.”
There was a cascade of Spanish. Then she tilted her head. “You really don’t know.”
Evan shook his head. “Last night, I… met this personal trainer in abasement, and…” He shuddered and covered his mouth. “After something terrible happened, I thought maybe he’d come back and explain it all—but then this other man showed up. He called me alesserand said he was going to kill me. I somehow found the tunnel and—”
“That man,” she cut in. “What he look like.”
Evan put his hand out at a level above his own head. “Very tall. Dressed—well, like you, actually. He had a scar—”
“Like here.” She drew on her own face from the nose to the side of her mouth. Then she waved a black-gloved hand over her skull. “And the hair is no.”
“That’s him,” Evan breathed. “He blew open the door, and—”
“Shut up.” She pointed her finger into his face. “That’s no man. That’s our enemy. That is vampire.”
At that last word, Evan’s hearing took a total timeout—so when her mouth started moving again, there was a delay with her words registering. But the meanings filtered through: Ancient war. Vampires.Lessers. Lessening Society…
Undead.
“What.” He pushed a hand into his thinning hair as his panic returned. “Undead—”
“We do no die.” She punched his sternum. “They can stab in the chest and send us back, but we no die. Be careful. You get hurt bad, you stay like that until the stab—”
“It was just personal training.” He swallowed an urge to scream. “I was just trying to get strong—”
“You did. You feel more of it over the next day. You have strength like you cannot know, and you will use it to kill.”
The satisfaction threading through her voice revolted him. “I don’t want to kill anyone.”
He looked at his hands and the thought of the black blood on the floor, down his throat, coming out of his scratches…
Undead.
As a moan came out of his soul, he lifted his head. The woman hadstarted walking again and was way down at the end of the alley, her duster flaring in her wake like she was the villain in a comic book.
He watched her take a left and disappear from sight.
Putting his hand to his heart, he felt aneedto follow her. It was as if he had been summoned—and in all his confusion and terror, he had no reserves to override the tide. His feet got to walking again, and he followed once more the path that was before him, though he could not see it.
