Roaring Shadows: Macey Book 2 (The Gardella Vampire Hunters 8)(14)

At the original The Silver Chalice in London, on the other hand, Sebastian Vioget hadn’t allowed that sort of mingling and feeding. Back then, he served both undead and mortal, but he hadn’t ever, as he put it, procured or pimped for either side. There’d been no violence, no shedding, spilling, or sucking of blood in his place unless it came from the jugs of animal blood he kept for his own sustenance. None of that was true at his new establishment here in Chicago. He was the only undead who crossed the threshold there.

“I sort’ve ended up in Iscariot’s camp,” Flora told her as they stopped at a busy intersection. “He knows about you and me—our connection. He’s anxious to get to you in any way he can.”

“Including using you.”

“Yes.” Flora looked at her sidewise as they started across the street. Someone honked at them, and there was a shrill catcall-type of whistle, which they both ignored. “That’s why I wanted to warn you. Iscariot is planning something big. He’s determined to kill you and Sebastian Vioget. He says there are some rings, and the only way to get them is to slay Vioget.”

Macey gave her a wry smile as they turned onto a side street. “Vampires have been trying to dust Sebastian for over a century. He’s not very easy to kill.” She saw something moving in the shadows ahead and narrowed her eyes. The back of her neck was still chilly, of course, because of her friend’s proximity. But was the prickling getting stronger?

“Well, I’ve heard he’s very handsome. And very sexy. If I were around him all the time, I know where I’d be looking to have some…fun.” Flora gave her another side look, and even in the glow from a weary streetlight, Macey could see the glint of humor and bald curiosity in her eyes. Once more, she felt a stab of grief for the loss of their friendship.

“Someone’s up there,” she murmured to her companion. “Ahead. Just beyond that parked car. Two or three of them, I think.”

Flora’s grin grew wider. “They think we’re going to be easy pickings, don’t they? Two gals out alone? Let’s give them a surprise.” She picked up her pace with a conspiratorial giggle.

Macey smiled too. It’d be easy as pie for her and the fast and strong undead Flora to combat anyone who attacked them.

As long as it isn’t Iscariot.

Macey shoved away the thought, but it returned with surprising force, and she stopped suddenly. An ugly feeling swept her and she eyed Flora with suspicion. Had she lured her out here, away from Chas and everyone else, so Iscariot could grab her?

Flora stopped too and turned to look back at Macey. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid!”

“No.” Macey forced herself to concentrate, to feel and open her senses to determine whether there were any other undead in the area…or any other sort of threat. But even if she didn’t sense any other vampires, it could be members of the Tutela waiting up ahead to force her into a dark automobile…to wrestle her back into the vehicle of terror where she’d been helpless at the brutal hands and fangs of Iscariot.

Nothing. She felt nothing. No sense of foreboding or apprehension. She began to walk again, her attention now on high alert and her eyes constantly scanning the shadows, parked vehicles, and doorways. Nevertheless, she dragged out the silver cross from beneath her dress and slid one of the stakes from her garter. A mortal could be stabbed with it just as easily as an undead. She was prepared for either consequence.

Once Flora realized her friend had started walking again, she began to put on what Macey could only describe as a show—the show of an innocent, oblivious woman strolling along a dimly lit, deserted street, completely unaware of the dangers ahead of her.

The gangly redhead fairly danced along the sidewalk, turning backward as she skipped in happy circles to talk to Macey about nonsensical things—about the cute delivery boy who brought the milk every day, or their old piano teacher back in Skittlesville, or anything she could think of to make her appear distracted.

It worked, and when Flora, with Macey several wary paces behind, reached the parked car they’d been watching, three men stepped out from behind the shadows.

Macey’s fingers tightened around her weapon, but there was no sign of glowing red eyes, no increased chill at the back of her neck. And when she peered closely into the windows of the parked car around which the men had been hiding, she saw no sign of anyone lurking inside. Iscariot wasn’t waiting, and surely more than three measly men would have been sent to capture a Venator.

She relaxed slightly, just as one of the men lunged for Flora’s arm.

Her friend gave a convincing scream of surprise, but it was cut off when her assailant clamped a hand over her mouth. “How’s about we go for a ride, doll?”

Before Macey could react, one of his companions accosted her, hands on his hips, standing directly in her path. He loomed over her, blocking the dark sidewalk.

“Hey, little lady,” he drawled. “You and your friend are gonna join us for a bit of entertainment. We could use some dames to heat things up.” He reached for Macey’s arm, his smile wide and lascivious.

Before she could retort, the third man slipped up behind her and Macey found herself sandwiched between the two. A quick glance indicated that Flora’s adversary was manhandling her—or so he must think—toward their parked vehicle.

Macey allowed the greedy hand to close over her arm, cutting off a startled shriek of her own as she slid the stake into her pocketbook and exchanged it for the derringer.

“No thanks,” she said once her fingers curled around the heavy metal weapon, which was hardly larger than her palm. “We’ve got other plans.”

She moved quickly, exuberant with the freedom of her abilities, sliding her gun-filled hand out of the purse and whipping it around into the cheekbone of the goon behind her—who’d had the audacity to slide his hands around to fondle her breasts!

He grunted and stumbled back as his companion used the grip on Macey’s arm to fling her sharply toward the parked car. But she was anticipating this, and Temple had taught her to use the momentum against an adversary. She turned sharply, ducking low and fast under his arm. He tripped as she spun him around, then gave a choked cry of shock as she moved on, leveraging him up and over onto the ground with a sharp thud.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” she told him, placing her foot on his heaving chest. Her chunky heel, a short one tonight due to the possibility of this sort of activity, pressed firmly into his diaphragm. “And learn some manners.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the third man—the one whom she’d clocked with her tiny firearm—rushing toward her. Still pinning the panting man with a superhumanly strong force, she turned calmly and displayed the derringer. “Did you want a second round?” she asked brightly. “Or would you prefer I simply empty this round into your belly? Small bullets notwithstanding, I hear a shot to the stomach is a very slow and painful way to die.”

The attacker caught himself just in time, and he seemed to get the picture. “All right, lady, geez,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Get out of here, and take your friends with you.” Macey gestured with the gun, removing her foot from where she’d been pressing it slowly and steadily into the other man’s abdomen.

They wasted no time disappearing into the darkness, leaving Macey to realize Flora and her assailant had disappeared. Probably into that dark alley.

She had a moment of uncertainty, wondering whether her stronger, faster companion—who was able to enthrall at will—had really been overpowered by her attacker. The chill at the back of her neck was still present, so Flora couldn’t be far away…

Just then, the slender, long-limbed figure of her friend emerged from the shadows between the two brick buildings that formed the alley. She fairly swaggered out into the glow of the streetlight, and Macey turned cold when she realized Flora was dragging the back of her hand over her mouth.

She’d just fed.

All at once, the scent of blood was in the air—as if it had been waiting for Macey to recognize it. Pungent, coppery, the smell rose above the smells of vehicle exhaust and rotting garbage, and even the essence of urine that tended to pervade the alleys and entryways of side streets like this.

Gorge rose in Macey’s throat, putrid and burning, and she swallowed it back with difficulty. All at once, the knowledge that her best friend was required to subsist on the lifeblood of living beings rushed to the forefront of her mind. Their moments of being carefree, companionable, and silly drained away.

Macey couldn’t pull her attention from Flora’s mouth. Though she saw no trace of blood or fangs, she knew what the woman had done. That she’d bit into human flesh, that she’d sucked and licked and taken from a person.

And what had happened to her victim?

Was he dead? Left for dead? Had he somehow miraculously escaped?

Her stomach lurched again.

“You took care of those two without batting an eyelash, did ya?” Flora said, lively and loud as ever. “That was fun. We make a good team, don’t we, Macey? Even now!”

Macey felt lightheaded. “Where is he?” she managed to ask from between dry, stiff lips.