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"And now, I need to decompress. I'll be in my lair if anybody needs me. Wade, you'd better get back home before dawn breaks." As I escorted him out the door before stalking toward the kitchen, I suddenly felt alone. Everybody else could stay up talking, they could lose sleep and not worry about it. They didn't have to be concerned with the sun rising in the morning. For me, it was just another one of life's inequities I had to deal with. I lived during the dark hours, in the shadows of life. Sometimes I felt like throwing a tantrum but in the end, I never did. Wasting energy just wasn't my style.
I slipped through the secret entrance to my basement apartment and headed down the stairs, wondering for the umpteenth time just what my life would have been like had I not fallen off the ceiling and the Elwing Blood Clan caught hold of me.
Trying to shake off my gloom, I turned my attention to the stack of books sitting on the nightstand next to my bed, which was clad in a green toile spread and sheets. As I picked up the first, a story about a group of men scaling Mount Everest, I settled back on the bed and lost myself to a world of ice and snow, where the days were brilliantly white and blinding, where the snow sparkled—pristine and pure—and where the sun was friend rather than foe.
CHAPTER 4
Do vampires dream when they sleep?
Camille asked me that question once, when she came to wake me up. How could I explain? She walked in three worlds: in Otherworld, Earthside, and within the Moon Mother's realm. But hers was a far different path than my own.
Yes, I wanted to tell her. We dreamed of blood and sex and passion. But that wasn't entirely the truth, even though my drifting thoughts were often filled with frightening images that warned me when I slipped a little too far into the predator, away from my essential self.
Or perhaps I should have told her that vampires walked the halls of the dead when we slept. Walked through meadow and forest, wandered city streets and glided over the sea. We walked on the winds, we walked on the water. We were the true Windwalkers. But again, that would only be part of the answer.
The fact was that mostly, when the pull of the sun dragged me down into the dark slumber of the undead, I dreamed about home—about Otherworld and my childhood. I dreamed about the first time I kissed a man—my neighbor Keris. I dreamed about the first time I kissed a woman—Elyas, a fellow operative in the OIA. I dreamed about becoming a priestess in the Sisterhood of the Ancients, a hope that died when I got my first moon blood and became a woman. I dreamed about movement and patterns and fractals, about dance and music and poetry.
And after particularly stressful nights, I dreamed about Dredge. Unfortunately I no longer had the luxury other people have of waking from their nightmares. Once I was asleep, if the memories came to visit, there was no other option than to ride them out, to relive the torture and rape and—eventually—my own blessed death. Over and over again I dreamed about my transformation. Sisyphus reborn, only instead of trickery against the gods, I was guilty of stealing secrets from a very nasty tempered vampire and his crew. For that, I earned my eternal punishment, damned to walk among the undead until the day I'm ready to let go and die the final death.
I never told Camille and Delilah about the nightmares. There was no need. Why should we all carry such dark memories? There's nothing they could do to change my destiny, and I refused to weigh them down with the knowledge of just how vicious people, whether living or dead, can be. Though they'd rapidly been discovering that savage truth for themselves, with our battle against the demons.
I put away my book and slowly removed my jeans and turtleneck. Thinking about Dredge had brought up too many memories. I glanced down at my body. No use looking in a mirror, not anymore. My reflection was never there to look back at me. And yet every time I undressed and saw the scars, how could I help but remember?
Their meeting was almost over…
A few more minutes and I could creep out, free and clear and with the information we needed. I took a long, slow breath as I held myself steady, clinging to the precarious handholds that kept me aloft in the higher reaches of the cave. At this distance, the Elwing Blood Clan couldn't sense the heat my body gave off, but my ultrasensitive hearing would catch what they were saying. Another perk of my mixed blood. I could hear the soft fall of a footstep in the next room.
Satisfied, I merely had to wait them out a little longer. As of five minutes ago, I'd collected enough information to take them down. Dredge was brilliant, but he didn't seem to comprehend that someone, somewhere, might be plotting against him. Nobody else but the OIA would be daring—or foolhardy—enough to spy on the Elwing Blood Clan. That's where I came in.
Now all I had to do was wait until they left the cave. They always dispersed for feeding after they'd had their meeting. I'd been here three times before, and each time, I had easily slipped away. This was my last assignment on the mission. I had what we needed. I'd found out for sure what the OIA had suspected: Dredge and his cronies were plotting to start up their own Court with Dredge as their king. Vampire courts were outlawed in Otherworld by an agreement among all of the Fae governments. They were allowed to form nests with a maximum of thirteen members before hiving off a new enclave.
Dredge had already broken that rule—I'd counted twenty-three members of the Elwing Clan. And he was out to rule far more than his turf here. He wanted to set himself up to be a vampiric lord—and we suspected he planned on trying to muscle in on the money flowing through the thieves' and assassins' guilds. And if he had his way, he'd be in a position to slake his sadistic thirsts without worrying about reprisals. People would be too afraid to fight back if he ruled a Court instead of a nest.
With the knowledge I'd discovered, by tomorrow morning the OIA would be able to send a team in to stake every last bloodsucker in the rogue clan of vamps. Threatening to exile them to the Sub Realms hadn't proved all that effective when they escaped capture every time.
Just hang on, keep quiet as they filed out, and I'd be home free. I might even get a promotion for my work—a first for the D'Artigo girls. In fact, the way things were looking with our track records, it would take a promotion to prevent the OIA from assigning us to some lowlife town down south to watch over the riffraff. We weren't lazy… just a little unlucky at times.
I shivered as a cold draft blew by, even though I was in a spider-silk body suit. My hair was pulled tightly into a bun, to keep it out of my face. I'd made sure to stretch out before coming on duty, but now every muscle in my body hurt and all I could think about was going home and taking a long hot bath. Camille and I had plans to head out for a party at midnight. There was an opium bash at the Collequia, and Camille wanted me to meet someone there, some guy she'd hooked up with a few weeks back. His name was Trillian or something like that. The fact that she wouldn't tell us anything about him made me know right off that there had to be something wrong with him. Camille had a taste for bad boys.
A ripple of pain washed down my left arm. Damn it, what was taking the vamps so long to clear out? I squinted, trying to make out what was going on below. From where I was sequestered, I couldn't see them very well. On the plus side, they couldn't see me, either.
Ten more minutes, I thought. Just ten minutes. I forced myself to ignore my burning muscles and tried to focus on something else. Father had promised we'd take a vacation before the next full moon to go visit relatives in the Windwillow Valley, or maybe spend a few days in Aladril, the City of Seers. Either way, we all needed a holiday. All four of us had been working hard lately. I was so tired I fell asleep the minute my head hit the pillow each night.
Damn it. An itch on the back of my neck was driving me nuts. As I shifted, trying to shake it off, the rock on which my right hand rested crumbled without warning, shearing off at surface level.
Holy shit! I scrambled for the nearest outcropping, frantically hoping to snag hold of some niche, crack, or crevice to keep myself from falling, but there was nothing under my fingers but smooth rock. My feet slipped as my fingers slid along the granite. I lost my grip and went tumbling to the floor below.
They say your life flashes before your eyes when you're ready to die, but the only thing that ran through my mind was a prayer that I'd be lucky enough to break my neck in the fall, considering just who I knew was prowling around in the caverns. And then I hit the floor with a bone-shaking thud.
Hell. I was still alive, and my landing had made a lot of noise. That meant one thing: to have any chance of escaping unscathed, I'd better run like hell. As I scrambled to my feet and headed toward the nearest entrance, I heard a commotion behind me. They'd heard me and were coming to investigate. Fuck. Was this the end?
As I raced through the corridor, I had no delusions about what would happen if they caught me. The Elwing Blood Clan vamps were rogues, arrogant predators led by a vampire who bathed in the blood of his victims. The clan ignored the Vampire code of ethics, which was why I'd been spying on them in the first place.
I skidded around a bend in the corridor, a searing cramp running through my calf as the sudden burst of movement stirred up lactic acid. The faint glow of starlight ahead told me I was almost out. Maybe I could lose them in the forest—I was good at camouflage. Sucking in my breath, I pushed my protesting body faster, my gaze fastened on the opening to the cave.
Ten yards away, and I could taste freedom. Nine yards and I fumbled at my belt for an emergency stake. I managed to yank it free and pumped my arms, covering the distance that would give me a fighting chance for survival. Just a few more steps—a few more yards.
And then, the silhouette of a man stepped in front of the cave opening. Tall and swarthy, with long curling hair, he was wearing black leather and a smile that would shatter stone. I knew who he was. Dredge. Leader of the Elwing Blood Clan. He glorified torture, reveled in pain.
