The next morning, I headed for the Weston campus. The beautiful gray clouds that had blanketed the sky the day before were breaking up, allowing the sun to peek through for increasingly long intervals. I didn’t care, though. I wore a hooded sweatshirt and gloves to protect my skin. As much as possible, I kept to the shade, but if I had to bear the burning rays of the sun for a bit I would do so. Time was of the essence—there was no time to wait for nightfall. I wanted to begin putting my crazy plan into motion as soon as possible.
Most of the route between our lair and the college is sparsely populated, so I raced at vampire speed through the wooded hills. Only when I neared the southern reaches of the town did I slow to a fast, determined walk.
When I arrived at Leesa’s dorm, I crossed quickly to the stairwell. Since today was Sunday, there were no classes, so I hoped Leesa would be there. By the time I reached the second floor landing, though, I kne
The sun was beginning to sink below the western horizon when I headed back to Leesa’s dorm. The small bit of blood I had consumed had restored full control over my appetite, so I passed through the doorway and entered the stairwell without apprehension.Halfway up the stairs, I sensed her presence and knew immediately that she had returned. When I reached her doorway, her door was wide open—waiting for me, I hoped. She was sitting on her bed reading a book, but even though I made no sound, something made her look up from the pages.She closed her book, but remained sitting. “I got your message,” she said. “What’s up?”I had been hoping for a bit more of a greeting, but at least she was there, waiting. I stepped into the room, leaving the door open behind me.“That’s it?” I asked, smiling. “A vampire shows up in your room and says he wants to talk to your volkaane boyfriend, and all you have
From far back in the shadows, I watched Rave enter Leesa’s dorm. Step one of my plan had been accomplished: Leesa had successfully gotten a message to the volkaane. For a moment, I wondered how she had managed it, but I brushed the thought aside. How she had reached him was unimportant—what counted was that she had, and that he had come.I wished I could get near enough to the dorm to hear Rave’s reaction when Leesa told him I needed to talk to him, but getting that close meant he would detect my presence. I didn’t want to risk doing anything that might spook him, not when I needed his help so badly. I needed to let him come out to me. Leesa would tell him I was waiting nearby—if Rave was willing to talk to me, he would come outside to find me.A few minutes later, he did just that. Rave and Leesa stepped out of the front entrance onto the walkway.I watched as Rave carefully scanned the night, seeking some trace of my presence with
The following night, I waited well back in the woods with two carefully chosen comrades while my soon-to-be volkaane allies gathered at the edge of Brennan Field, where we were to meet. That Leesa had accompanied Rave did not surprise me, but there was no way I was going to allow her to come along. I hoped Rave felt the same—together, we might have a chance to stop her. I was surprised, though, to see a fifth person with them who was not a volkaane. That was not part of our agreement.For my own companions, I had selected two of the more powerful members of our coven, including Leah, who had first brought Ricard and me to the caverns so many years before. As one of the original members of the coven, Leah also had a position on the High Council.My second choice was Marcio, a nearly four hundred year old Italian vampire. For several centuries, Marcio had been content to hunt the lands of southern and central Europe. Early in the twentieth century he had decided to
We were moving through the tree-lined hills above a large reservoir when Rave motioned our party to a halt. I crossed over to join him. The look on his face told me he was puzzled about whatever he was sensing. As I had warned, there was something strange about the renegade vampires.“They are perhaps two hundred yards ahead of us,” he told me. “Moving slowly east to west on a path that will intersect our own.”I nodded, happy to have located our quarry so soon.“Good,” I said. “As agreed, my comrades and I will move ahead, projecting as much of our power as we can without being obvious about it. Hopefully, doing so will mask your presence. I think Jarubu’s arrogance will work in our favor as well. He will be anxious to end what we started last time, and I intend to give him the chance.” I started to head back to my companions, but then stopped and turned back to Rave. “See that you remember your part,
A single keystroke changed the world forever.Three men huddled in front of the computer monitor. The guy pecking at the keyboard appeared young enough to pass for a college student, and his jeans and black T-shirt with a dripping red peace symbol on the front did nothing to disabuse the notion. The other two men—one in his mid-fifties, the other long past sixty—stood behind him, each dressed in a white lab coat.Their hunched postures betrayed their eagerness for this last task to be completed. The big moment was nearly at hand—the moment they had devoted eight years, countless man-hours and millions of dollars toward.All three men were universally acclaimed to be among the top people in their respective fields. Ask the CEO of any tech giant to list the top five computer programmers in the world and Briggs Brennan—the man typing at the keyboard—would show up on every list. He had joined the project two years earlier, at the ripe old age of twenty-four. The man on the right was Timot
The club was packed. Scores of young pleasure hunters milled about in the dimness, proudly peacocking trendy fashions, the bolder among them aggressively trolling for action, the less confident hoping a connection would come to them. The crowd was thickest in front of the bar, where customers fueled their courage with drinks whipped up with impossible quickness by a quartet of black clad bartenders. Out on the parquet dance floor, limber bodies gyrated to the rhythms of a driving hip-hop beat. A swirling kaleidoscope of colored lights danced among them, changing and distorting the colors and shapes of the revelers with staccato swiftness.Pete Weber ignored the dancers, focusing his attention instead on the stunning blonde threading her way through the throng by the bar. Quite a package, he thought approvingly—long hair cascading down her back, generous breasts that stretched the fabric of her red silk blouse, long slender legs lengthened further by a pair of black stilettos. Her body
Casey Filip Conner—“Case” to anyone who was more than a nodding acquaintance—waited alone on the perfectly manicured first tee of one of L.A.’s most exclusive country clubs, gently stretching the muscles of his slender six-foot frame. He’d been playing here twice a week for several months now, but he still felt out of place at the posh club, whose membership counted some of the city’s wealthiest and well-known citizens. An ex-cop like him just did not belong in these surroundings. But that was no big news to Conner; nowadays, the feeling of not belonging seemed to grip him no matter where he was.He sucked in a deep breath of ocean-scented air, reflexively turning his thoughts away, as he always did, from anything beyond the simple, non-threatening life he had created for himself. That was how you survived, when you lost your only son to cancer, and then killed someone else’s kid barely a year later. Keep everything simple. Force down dangerous thoughts before they even began. Think a
Conner motioned to the young blond waitress, indicating he wanted a draft beer. Sloane raised two fingers to show he wanted the same.Conner decided there was no point in delaying things. He nodded at the thin beige folder in front of Sloane. “Let’s hear what you’ve got.”“The body was discovered early Wednesday behind a market over in Hollywood,” Sloane explained, without consulting the file. “She was naked. We ID’ed her from her purse, which her killer conveniently left nearby. Christy DeMars, with a capital M, age twenty-four. The address on her driver’s license was three years old—we’re still trying to trace her to find next of kin. You know this town; hardly anyone sticks with their given names. No cash or credit cards in her wallet, but the killer left a gold bracelet behind.”“Good-looking?” Conner asked.Sloane grunted. “At my age, they’re all good-looking, but see for yourself.” He reached for the folder.Conner’s hand shot forward. He slammed his palm down on the cover of th