Hard Bitten (13 page)

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Authors: Chloe Neill

BOOK: Hard Bitten
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He grinned, and the look was effective enough that it made even my hardened heart trip a bit.

“And I thought you’d be stubborn and difficult to work with.”

This time, I gave him a pinch on the arm I hope looked playful—and not spiteful. “In case you’ve forgotten, Ethan Sullivan trained me. And in case you didn’t know, Catcher Bell schooled me in sword craft. I was raised on ‘difficult to work with.’ ”

He chuckled. “Then you’re forgiven.”

“So magnanimous.”

He put his hand on his heart like a man confessing love. “That’s the nature of RG

service.”

I gave him a quick pat on the cheek. “Darling, I’ll just have to take your word for it.”

We wandered around the balcony for a while, fingers intertwined, occasionally sharing strategically furtive whispers. If this was a real rave, there was a lot less drum-and-bass and many fewer glow-in-the-dark necklaces than I’d have expected. But pills and powders were still passed around, and there was enough glamour in the air that my skin crawled with it, my neck beginning to ache from my constantly shaking off the peculiar tickle.

We kept an eye on the humans, and from our perch hundreds of feet above the city, we watched the play take shape. Vampires moved in and around the sprinkling of humans, plying them with alcohol and glamour. The vamps were clearly in touch with their predatory instincts—and they acted on them. Once glasses of champagne were passed out, the humans were separated and divided, then escorted, one by one, back into the penthouse. They were probably unaware they’d been singled out like calves from a herd.

On the other hand, we hadn’t seen anything that looked remotely like crazed violence. This party was definitely bigger than prior raves, but it wasn’t exactly the free-for-all Mr. Jackson had described.

When a tall, dark-haired vamp took one of the goth girls by the hand and led her back through the plastic, Jonah nudged me. “Let’s head inside.

I’ll take her, make sure things stay aboveboard.

You keep an eye on the rest of them.”

“Will do,” I said, ignoring the flutter in my stomach when he kissed my hand and walked back into the room.

I followed him, and I’ll admit it: my boy troubles aside, I could appreciate a fine walk on Grey House vampire.

Unfortunately, I’d been doing just that when I found myself surrounded.

CHAPTER EIGHT
THE ART OF WAR

I
t started with a bump, an obviously drunk female vamp stumbling backward. We were inside the would-be penthouse again when she ran into me, pushing me into two guys at my back.

She glanced cattily at me. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” I said with a tight smile. But when I turned around to apologize to the guys I’d run into, they were even less thrilled.

They were both vamps, both average-looking, both in button-down shirts and jeans, one slightly taller than the other. The taller vamp had dark hair; the shorter one was a blond. They boxed me in, close enough that I could smell their cheap cologne and the faint tang of blood that surrounded them. They’d taken blood recently—but from someone in the room?

I started with politeness. “Sorry. I got bumped.”

“Yeah, well, watch where the fuck you’re going.”

Okay, bit of an overreaction, but we were at a party with a lot of people. Could be they’d been stepped on before and were sick of the crowd.

I smiled lightly. “Sure thing.”

The blond guy grabbed my elbow. “That doesn’t sound like much of an apology, you know. It doesn’t sound like you were truly sorry for running into us.”

Was this guy serious? I’d barely bumped him.

I pulled my arm away. “Again, sorry.” I glanced casually around, checking both for Jonah and any sign of the girls, but the crowd seemed to have thickened, and neither was in sight. For the first time, I actually wished I’d been with Ethan instead of Jonah. At least he and I could have communicated telepathically.

“I don’t appreciate your attitude,” the blond guy said.

“I’m sorry?” I offered. “I was just trying to get out of your way.” While batting my eyelashes, I looked him over, hoping to find some clue of House affiliation. But there was no medal, no jersey. Out of luck on that front.

“You know the password?” he asked.

“Um, temptress,” I said, boredom in my voice.

“I’m going to find my date.” I turned to step away from the guys and toward the part of the room Jonah had headed into, but the vampires anticipated the move. The dark-haired one moved in front to block me, while the blond one took up point at my back.

“That’s not all of it,” mumbled the dark-haired guy.

The other one narrowed his gaze. His eyes were in the same shape as the fanged vamp I’d seen earlier—his pupils pinpricks of black amid a sea of silver. These guys were seriously vamped out tonight. Was that a side effect of all the magic in the air? Did my eyes look like that right now?

“What’s the other half of the password?” he demanded.

My stomach went cold. Even if Jonah’s text message had offered up the rest of the password, I had no clue what it was. I figured offering the wrong word was only going to piss them off more. It was time to bluff, and since I was dressed for the part, I opted to play party girl.

I wrapped a strand of beads around my finger and leaned forward. “You guys don’t seriously need the other half of the password from me, right? My boyfriend was the one who talked to the security dude. Have you seen him anywhere?

Reddish hair. Really tall?”

“Everyone’s responsible for the password,”

the dark-haired guy said. “If you don’t know it, you don’t belong here.” I waited until he turned back to me to check his eyes: same as the other two. Completely silvered out, but the pupils constricted like the vamps were staring down the sun.

“And I don’t know you,” confirmed the blond one, his expression turning cold. That he didn’t know me was a little miracle given my previous front-page antics. “I don’t like vampires I don’t know.”

I winked. “Maybe you should get to know me.

If my boyfriend approves, I mean.”

The two of them exchanged a glance, and then they made their first mistake. The blond vamp wrapped an arm around my waist and yanked me back against him. “Enough with the games.

You’re coming with me.”

I raised my voice to a girlie squeal. “Oh, my God, get your hands
off
me!”

“Aw, fighting’s only gonna get him excited, sunshine,” said the tall one.

“Not in this lifetime,” I muttered, then dug the heel of my boot into the blond guy’s foot. He yelled out a string of curses but released me.

That’s what I’d been hoping for. I took a step away, then looked over at the dark-haired guy with doe eyes.

“He hurt me.”

“Yeah, well, it’s gonna get worse.” He lurched forward, arms outstretched to reach for me, but I wasn’t about to get into a fight with some socially obnoxious, magic-drunk vamp at a party I was crashing. I was not, however, too proud to keep my shots above the belt. I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a knee to the groin that dropped him to his knees.

“Jackass,” I muttered, before adopting the squealy tone again. “And you keep your hands to yourself!” I poutily yelled, before stepping over him—curled on the floor, groaning—and hustling into the anonymity of the crowd. I figured I had a good minute or two before they barreled after me, which meant I needed to find Jonah and we needed to jet. I couldn’t yet say whether Tate or Jackson had been right about the violence, but some of these vamps were definitely on a hair trigger—and I was in their line of sight.

I glanced around to find some sign of my would-be partner, but he was nowhere to be seen. Still keeping an eye on the girl, probably, but that wasn’t going to help me. The crowd had thickened, which was great in terms of sheltering me from the thugs, but not for finding the needle in the vampire haystack.

I decided to make concentric circles around the space. With each turn, I’d move a little closer to the middle. I had to hit Jonah eventually, and hopefully I’d also confuse the guys who thought I was nothing more than a fanged party crasher.

I made my way over to the plastic wall, which was damp with humidity, and began to move forward along it, eyes peeled for any sign of Jonah. I had to bob and weave through the crowd to make progress, but still didn’t see him.

What I did see were vampires and humans enjoying one another’s company. Random bits of furniture had been placed here and there.

Vampires were draped along the furniture, and humans, now brought into the vampire mix, were draped across the vampires. They seemed more than happy to be the center of fanged attention.

And I meant “fanged” literally. A few of the humans had already been tapped—with a vampire at a wrist or attached to someone’s carotid. I worked to block out the perk of interest the blood prompted—wishing I’d had a prophylactic drink box before I’d left—and to fight the urge to shake the humans back to their senses. But their expressions fairly screamed consent . . . until I reached one of them who didn’t look so interested. I stopped short.

She sat on the concrete floor, her back against a steel post. Her knees were up, her head rolled to the side, eyes slowly blinking, as if she was having trouble focusing on the world around her.

Glamour. A lot of it, if the tingle in the air was any indication.

Humans volunteering to dabble in the dark was one thing. But this looked like something different. Something much less consensual.

Ethan had told me once that glamour was about reducing a human’s inhibitions. That a human wouldn’t do anything he or she didn’t ordinarily want to do. But there was nothing in this girl’s eyes that spoke of pleasure . . . or consent.

I’d never drunk from a human before. Of course, I also hadn’t really had the urge. My recent experiences with humans hadn’t exactly been pleasant. And this girl? Suffice it to say I found nothing even mildly interesting, vampire or not, about biting a girl who seemed to be drugged beyond her capacity to consent to the act. I guess rationality could overcome hunger.

I crouched down in front of her and couldn’t see any visible bite marks. While she might have been bitten in some hidden spot, there wasn’t any blood in the air.

“Are you all right?” I asked her.

She looked up at me, her eyes orbs of black, her pupils almost fully dilated. The opposite of the vamps’ eyes. “I’m perfectly content.”

I was pretty confident she didn’t actually believe that. “I think that’s the glamour talking.

Have you—have they—”

“Did they drink my blood, do you mean?” She smiled a bit sadly. “No. I keep hoping they will.

Do you think it’s because I’m not pretty enough?” She reached out a wobbly hand and touched the end of my ponytail. “You’re very pretty.”

But then her hand dropped, and her eyes fluttered closed. She looked pale. Too pale. I wasn’t sure if glamour was strong enough to actually sicken a human; if not glamour, and not blood loss, maybe something slipped into her drink?

Whatever the reason, I needed to get her out of here.

Her eyes opened again, just a sliver beneath her lashes. “You’ll live forever, you know. All vampires do.”

“Unfortunately, probably not the ones who get into as much trouble as I do.”

I should have knocked on wood after saying that, but at least I smelled old blood on the vampire behind me before he attacked.

I mouthed a silent curse before standing and spinning to face him. He was tall and muscular with dark, curly hair and a chin that fell on the wrong side of too square. There was blood at the corner of his mouth, and I’m proud to say I didn’t have the slightest interest in it.

And his eyes—wholly silvered just like those of the other vamps I’d seen.

“Are you poaching, vampire?”

“She’s sick,” I told him. “This isn’t the place for her. You want human blood, find it somewhere else.”

The vampires around us began to glance our way, their gazes darting between me and him as if they were trying to work out whose side they should take. He looked around at them, a cajoling smile on his face.

“Aw, do we have a human sympathizer on our hands? Do you feel sorry for the little humans?”

Not so much sorry for as empathetic. I knew what it meant to be drunk without consent. With some luck, I’d made it through my attack, but I wouldn’t wish it on anyone else.

Unfortunately, the vampires around me weren’t yet convinced.

“I feel sorry for anyone who’s not here by choice.”

He belly-laughed, one hand pressed to his abdomen as he chortled. “You think any of these humans don’t want to be here? You think they wouldn’t pay to be here with us? Let the humans call us names. Let the press call us monsters. We are all that they aspire to be. Stronger. More powerful.
Eternal.

There were vague mumblings of agreement in the crowd. I’d apparently gone from anti-vampire demonstration to pro-vamp rally in a matter of hours.

You know what I thought? I thought people needed to stop holding on to their blind prejudices and do some rational thinking. Stop forcing themselves into the mold of the lovers or haters. Some vamps had issues, as this guy was demonstrating, and there were plenty of humans in Chicago—some of them elected—who weren’t exactly paragons.

“Enough,” I said. “Enough talk. This girl isn’t in a state of mind to consent to anything. I’m taking her out of here.” I squeezed my hands into fists, preparing myself for battle, and rubbed my calf against the inside of my boot, feeling for the telltale bump of the dagger hidden there.

But the vamp wasn’t buying my speech, and clearly wasn’t afraid of me. “You are not my Master, child. Find something else to do. Some pretty boy to bite.”

“I’m not leaving her.”

He narrowed his gaze and I felt the head rush of his glamour, the loosening of worry and fear, and the urge to find a spot on the floor and offer myself over to him, regardless of the circumstances.

But I kept my eyes trained on his and fought through the dizziness. I straightened my spine and gave him a questioning glance. “Were you trying to do something there?”

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