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The Greenbelt Park District was shrouded in history. The buildings had a weathered feel to them; they were old stonework, gray and beaten down by the rains. The masons who’d worked on them didn’t build a development—they had built one building at a time, to the specifications of the old money that had lived here. Even the buildings and houses that had been abandoned or let go had an aura of mystery to them, and a quiet, decrepit elegance.
Seattle was known as the Emerald City because it was rich in trees, and the Greenbelt Park District more than lived up to its name. Looming firs and cedars overhung the streets in the residential areas. A number of the shops were interspersed with old, crumbling apartment buildings. The neighborhoods still had people living in them, but a lot of the stores sat empty, and there was a deserted, uneasy feel to the streets.
Following Camille, I turned right on Foster. The street narrowed and I wove in and out around the few parked cars. They were nice cars, but older makes, and weathered as if the owners didn’t have the money to keep them up. The ever-present trees crowded the streets, their branches leaning on power lines that stretched across the roads.>The seats were rapidly filling up. I recognized the regulars—at least some of them. Brett waved at me. Forever caught in geek-land, Brett had been turned while young. I wasn’t sure if he’d been in high school or college, but he’d been a nerdy, shy, comic-book-loving guy. After death, he decided to use his newfound vampiric powers to foster his superhero complex. And so Brett’s alter ego became Vamp-Bat, and he’d saved more than one woman from being attacked in his nightly rounds through the city.
There were others—Albert and Tad, both Microsoft em-ployees who worked the night shift. They’d kept their jobs and were actively working on the computer system for the Seattle Vampire Nexus, and the software was state of the art. The Supe Community Council had hired the pair to work with Tim Winthrop, the brains behind their computer network.
Of course, the most conspicuous absence was Sassy. The memory still stung. As if reading my mind, Wade swung up next to me and murmured, “Sassy would have been proud of what we’ve accomplished here.”
I nodded, unable to speak. Sassy’s death had hit me hard, especially since I’d been the one to cause it. But she’d strayed too far into her predator, and I’d fulfilled a promise I’d made to her. When I staked her, she was free to move on, and I’d seen her spirit leaving, with the young daughter she lost so long ago, and her best friend—Janet—who had been her faithful companion for most of her life.
Wade seemed to notice my silence. “It’s okay, Menolly. You did what she wanted you to. You did what she couldn’t. When the predator takes over, it’s almost impossible for a vampire to walk into the sunlight on their own. Sassy’s happy now. She’s reunited with her daughter, with her best friend. You gave her freedom.”
“I suppose I did,” I said, hanging my head. “But why do I feel like I destroyed one of the best friends I could have?”
“Shush…it’s over. You did what you had to. And sometimes, the right thing isn’t the easy thing.” He nodded toward the far corner of the room. “Roman’s over there. He’s talking to a few new members. They’re awestruck, of course. You might as well be dating a rock star.”
I snorted.
Nerissa, who had come up behind us, cleared her throat. “She may be his official consort, but she’s my fiancée.”
Wade grinned at her, the tip of his fangs barely showing. His spiky platinum hair was a brilliant contrast to his leather pants and button-down silk shirt. Wade was really quite cute, but I didn’t envy his current girlfriend. Let her cope with his mother.
“Touchy, touchy.” He laughed. “Roman knows perfectly well that you guys are engaged. He was mentioning earlier how well he thinks you suit each other.”
I wasn’t sure what to think of that, but I let it drop. “I need to ask the membership a few questions. We’ve got a missing OIA agent, and he was last seen around White Center. The fools sent him over here without checking what kind of an area they sent him into. While Andrees has a good head on his shoulders and can fight his way out of most situations, he’s never faced down a gun before, or a low-rider full of gang members.”
Wade whistled. “White Center? So not good. All right. I’ll make sure you’re first on the agenda so that people are still paying attention. They tend to drift off after about thirty minutes.”
We took our seats and Roman made his way over to us. He was wearing the requisite smoking jacket—this time in deep purple—and a pair of expensive black jeans and black motorcycle boots. Beneath the jacket, the ruffle of a cream-colored shirt peeked out. His hair was loose tonight, swinging to his shoulders in perfect precision; whoever cut it was an artist. I repressed a laugh. Roman really didn’t fit in with any crowd, that was for sure.
He leaned down and gently brushed my lips with a kiss, then reached for Nerissa’s hand. She offered it to him, and he lifted her fingers to his lips and planted a firm, quick kiss on the top of her hand. He held it for a beat longer than necessary and Nerissa’s breath quickened, then she pulled away.
“As always, it’s a pleasure to see my beautiful consort, and her beloved.”
Oh, he was courtly, all right, and the vampires around us were drinking it in. Several of the women shot me venomous looks, and I realized that they coveted my spot. I knew why, but even though I enjoyed Roman’s company, I would have happily given up the position, if I could have. I wasn’t cut out for courtside manners or decorum.
Roman settled in beside me, and his retinue of guards—some ten strong—followed suit, surrounding us with their presence. They included my sisters, Morio, and Rozurial within their protective circle.
Camille was sitting on the outside, next to Morio, and I glanced down the row at her. She was eyeing the vamp next to her with a combination of wariness and curiosity. He was a burly man, wearing dark glasses, and the standard garb that Roman’s contingent wore—black wraparound sunglasses, black turtleneck with the crest of Roman’s house on it, and black jeans.
I leaned close to Nerissa and whispered, “Looks like we’ve stumbled into some beatnik poetry slam.”
She snickered and covered her mouth with her hand, stifling a laugh. Roman glanced at me, amusement playing across his lips. He leaned over to whisper to both of us. “I happen to write poetry and if you two continue to make fun of my fashion choices for my bodyguards, I’ll make you listen to it.”
“It’s not Vogon poetry, is it?” Nerissa choked out.
Roman slapped his thigh with a thunderous laugh. “I’m afraid I can’t measure up to Douglas Adams’s standard for greatness, my dear.”
Just then, Wade took the podium. As always, he waved to the crowd and said, “Hi, I’m Wade, and I’m a vampire.”
“Hi, Wade!” the crowd thundered back.
Row by row, one by one, every vampire in the room stood, took their turn, and—like the “wave” in a sports arena—echoed the call.
It came to my turn. “Hi, I’m Menolly, and I’m a vampire.”
“Hi, Menolly!” The first few times, I’d developed a horrible case of the giggles when they’d echoed back to me, but now it was like an old shoe. While not fancy or flashy, the ritual was comforting.
