Subspecies: Bloodloss -- Chapter Six

[memoriamvictus]

Sorry for the mid-season break; a Thanksgiving accident kept me away from the keyboard. (It was delicious, though!)

Subspecies: Bloodloss
Chapter 6/9
Author: memoriamvictus
Rating: R
Summary: Sequel to Subspecies: Bloodlines. Michelle discovers that the weight of obligation can be the heaviest shackle of all as she struggles to retain her hard-won freedom in the face of a fate that will not be denied.
Disclaimer: We don't know who it belongs to, but it certainly isn't me. This work is merely an act of affection and admiration; no offense or challenge is intended. Reader discretion is always advised.
Wordcount: 8,720
Begin at the beginning.



A smooth, white fabric shroud lay over her face.

With a thrill of rage and terror, Michelle punched directly upwards, the fabric tenting around her fist as she sat bolt upright. She shook her arm free, the fabric much heavier than she expected, as she scrambled to her feet, frantically scanning the space around her.

She stood in the corner of a big empty room. Office lighting. Ladder. Rats. The bank, she realized, her escalating fright hitting a sudden plateau. She looked down, and saw it wasn’t the linen wrappings she’d feared, but a thicker tarp, half of which still lay mostly flat on the ground beneath her. The dropcloths beneath the ladder. Radu must have used one to protect her while she slept.

Her shoulders sagged with relief, and she let her head roll on her neck, taking a moment to enjoy the stretch. With the panic already fading, the extra, unexpected energy was almost bracing. She still felt remarkably relaxed, the panic smoothing into clarity; she was surprised her back hadn’t popped, assuming that was still something that could happen. With a slight frown, she realized she wasn’t sure.

She took in her bare surroundings once more. She had no idea what time it actually was, but she hadn’t expected to find herself alone.

Nor, she realized, had she. At the end of the dropcloth, a few feet from where her feet would have rested, lay the seemingly uninjured corpses of three rats. They’d been arranged with their noses pointing inward, as if they were in conversation, their long, scabrous tails stretched out straight behind them like earthworms.

Radu must have taken to killing small animals.

She approached them cautiously, sharpening her focus as much as she could, but could make out nothing odd about them besides their presence: no circles, no runes, no mutilations, merely an improvisational corpse diorama she hated to look at almost as much as she hated thinking about why he might have done it.

On the beam supporting the wall beside them, the figure of an upward pointing arrow had been drawn in the thin coating of dust.

Michelle swallowed thickly.

There was no time to waste; he’d take any excuse to balk. Not giving herself time to worry, she dragged the sleeve of her jacket through the dust to eradicate its message and spun on her heel to make for the door, eager to leave the disturbing tableau behind her.

Fortunately, it was easy enough to open from this side. She stepped beyond it into the dusty hallway and marveled at how effortlessly its massive weight swung shut behind her. She hadn’t taken much note of the environs last night, but by the thin bands of muted daylight streaming down into the far end of the corridor, it was easy to see that it was little more than a crawlspace. She carefully picked her way along the warped floorboards, ducking to dodge a few cobwebs and a beam that seemed too bright, to soon stood beneath the steel access door bolted into the ceiling a dozen feet above her.

There were cracks in the plaster she could have slithered through, but she will see you prickled through her memory at the thought. Before she realized she meant to, she leapt up onto one of the vertical support beams, gripping it with her hands and boots, and realized with joyous delight that it didn’t hurt a bit. She couldn’t help but grin as she reached out to work the latch on the metal hatch. She flipped it over easily, wincing at the bang it made as it fell open, and shifted her grip to allow herself to haul the rest of her body through. Nothing ached, nothing twinged, nothing bothered her as she emerged onto the roof.

She winced once more; the sun was still remarkably high in the sky, the last rays of daylight almost horizontal, but still potent. She pulled her legs up behind her and stepped onto the tar roof, heavily scattered with gravel, dotted with drifts of snow where the building’s heat didn’t quite extend, and raised a hand over her eyes to shield them.

An unexpected number of chimneys, both stone and metal, poked up from various points, as well as several large metal boxes that had to house the utilities. A protective brick wall ran along the edges of the roof, cutting off her view of the city below.

Radu leaned his shoulders against it, his weight on one heel of his crossed legs, the tails of his coat moving slightly in the breeze, his eyes narrowed as he observed the scene before him.

His breath fogged in the chill air.

This time it was birds. She quickly counted seven pigeons laid on their backs, their wings spread, their rib cages split open. They were surrounded by a pattern of concentric rings and lines laid out with gravel, almost like a mandala. A white cat, splotched with tabby patches, meticulously slunk towards the one farthest from Radu.

She honestly couldn’t tell if the prickles down her back were from the sacrifice’s presence, or from the mere sight of it. She had witnessed him practice his mysteries before, but never at a scope like this.

She let the gravel crunch beneath her boots to alert him to her presence, if he had somehow been able to ignore the falling door, but he still took no notice of her, watching the cat raptly. The cat froze for a second, cutting its crossed, yellow green eyes towards her, before dismissing her as a threat. It closed the last distance in a bound, seizing the pigeon by the body and whirling to race away and disappear behind one of the utility boxes, tattered wings dragging behind it.

“Is that, uh, safe?” she asked.

He nodded once, his eyes still on the circle. “They’re only doves.” He raised his head slightly, as if searching for the cat. “Cats rarely mind us,” he said. “Dogs will. Horses might.” He finally turned his head to regard her, the rapidly lowering sunlight casting his profile in heavy shadow. “Are you well?”

“Amazingly, yes.” Her hands automatically went to the injury, and she realized with a rush of embarrassment that she’d never rebuttoned her shirt. Deciding to make the best of it, she pulled the tails back to inspect it for the first time herself.

Her belly was smooth, pale and unblemished. She prodded at herself experimentally, and felt nothing but her fingertips. She pressed a little harder over where the nails had been, and might have been imagining the dull pain. “Yeah, I think it’s better.” She began buttoning her shirt as casually as she could.

She looked up as he began to straighten, bringing his features into what remained of the light. His split lip had already healed. His hair fell back, revealing the bruise she’d left on his neck, so ugly it was almost black in the center. Her brows drew down in dismay, and before she realized what she was doing, she’d reached halfway to him. “Does that hurt?” she asked, instantly regretting the inanity.

He took her hand and slowly brought it up to press her palm over the bruise. The living warmth of his skin was still unnerving, but it was easy to feel how much hotter the bruise was, almost feverish. “Yes,” he purred, one corner of his mouth curving with satisfaction.

Michelle looked away, shame and regret at war with a thin shard of indescribable pride. She’d liked how he tasted. She was unconflicted about that; the source was questionable, but the outcome seemed to have been worth it. But she liked how his throat felt beneath her hand, his pulse a reliable twitch against her palm. She liked how he effortlessly offered it to her. She did not like having to think about why.

He let her withdraw her hand, sliding away beneath his rough palm. She shoved it into her pocket, as if to confine it for what it had done. She couldn’t think of what to say. Didn’t dare see what expression his face might hold. “Do you, um, need breakfast?” she asked, desperate not to let the silence lengthen. “Can you eat?”

“But I won’t.” His brows lowered at Michelle’s puzzled expression. “You’ve already forgotten how vile it is.”

“Oh.” She realized with dismay that he might not be wrong. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought about eating food; she had a sinking feeling that was yet another thing that had slipped away without her notice. Perhaps it was a mercy she didn’t miss it. She shook her head slightly, not sure what she was dismissing. “Then…”

She looked up at him once more. His expression was one of impassive attention; she was disturbed by how little of his mood she could read. She had just begun getting used to him, but everything about him was all wrong again, in new and disturbing ways. Even standing still before her, his stance seemed too fluid, too loose; everything about him was slightly off, as if he were casually poised to spring. Even his skin seemed to hang a little differently from the heavy planes of his skull, as if his eerie new vitality had restored some of his youth. That alone was a strange realization: before he had simply been so alien it had never occurred to her to question it, but now he seemed like he might have an age.

“We can send for her.” His voice was quiet.

“What?” Michelle blinked out of her reverie. As if to capitalize on her confusion, the golds of late winter sunset abruptly began to give way to the grayish blues of twilight. Radu stood before her, hands at his sides, what little expression she could see behind his breeze-tossed hair growing serious.

“Your blood scholar. Once we’ve established ourselves, we can summon her to join us.”

She sighed, her unease easily succumbing to the reminder of responsibility. “Maybe some day. It’s probably safer. But they need so much stuff, machines and equipment and… I honestly don’t know.” She looked up at him, and hugged herself as she realized she truly had no plan for any serious resistance. “She has all that here. She can at least get started.”

He regarded her silently for a long moment; long enough that she began to fear what he would say. Finally, he nodded briefly. “Where is she?”

“Umm…” She turned to peer over the crumbling brick wall, beholding the city spread out before her, lights beginning to sparkle to life amid the lowering gloom, and realized she had no plan for that, either. She scanned for landmarks, and quickly spotted the palace of the parliament; the great square was in the opposite direction than she had expected, but just as nearby. She was pretty sure Club Muse was just a few blocks out of sight behind the rise, which meant that Ana’s apartment would be… “A few miles away,” she said.

“We’ve too little time. You’ll have to bring me.”

She turned to him, unpleasantly surprised. “You can’t fly?”

“That is a privilege reserved for those with a foot in each world.” He took a step towards her, close enough she swore she could feel the heat of his body radiating against her exposed hands. “My concerns are now far more material. But you can carry me with you. Do you not recall when we left the crypt together?”

One of their hands on each of her wrists, his like cold steel, hers like gnarled wood, and his guttural, alien shouting… “I can’t do that,” she said, shaking her head. She raised her hands, taking half a step back. “Whatever I did last night, I had a lot of help.”

“As you do now,” he said. “All you’ll have to do is hold me tight.” He looked at her sidelong, his smirk more amused than lascivious. She managed to restrain her scowl into a frown. “You will feel my presence. Stay in contact with me. Stay low to the ground. Go as quickly as you can. Stop if you must, but do so discreetly. Make certain that we’re clear.”

Her frown deepened; this seemed like too advanced a technique to simply pick up on the spot. “You can just… hang on? I can tow you?”

“Essentially.”

Michelle had to stop herself from taking another step back; the more she considered it, the more her discomfort with the idea grew. She’d managed to normalize supernatural travel, but having to examine it like this felt too much like sorcery. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can.” She wanted to say should, but couldn’t articulate why, even to herself.

Radu lifted one shoulder in an effortless shrug. “The train yards are much closer.”

She quailed at the potential ruination of her plans. She wasn’t going to win that argument if she failed at simple logistics, no matter how unnatural their mechanism.

She thought of the nails, and before them, his claws, effortlessly piercing her shadow and hauling her backwards.

She thought of how easy it would be for one of Club Muse’s cars to pull up beside them as they walked.

She thought of how impossible it would be to get him into a cab.

She sighed, shoulders sagging, letting her eyes close to shield them from the light and remove at least one difficulty.

“What happens if I drop you?”

“It will be very difficult to explain to observers.”

She exhaled abruptly through her nose, not quite able to smother the laugh. “Okay. What do I have to do?”

He took a step towards her, spreading his arms slightly. With only a little hesitance she closed the distance between them, slipping her arms around his waist as he wrapped his around her shoulders. “Keep me close,” he murmured. “Concentrate as much as you can on staying with me. But find our way.”

The brocade of his vest was softly textured against her cheek, his heartbeat a steady throb beneath it. He took a deep breath, then another, quickly settling into a steady pattern. She braced herself, unhappy at the prospect of having a spell spoken directly over her, but after a moment, he ran his fingers through the ends of her hair. “When you’re ready,” he said, exhaling through his nose.

“No words?” She was stalling, and she knew it. This felt impossible; it didn’t seem like something she could just do. He simply shook his head, his hair moving against her forehead, and continued his deep, rhythmic breaths, his chest slowly rising and falling against her.

She sighed again, unconsciously in time with him. He didn’t seem to think this was a big deal, and he was cooperating. Given his urgency last night, she was surprised he hadn’t protested more; she couldn’t afford to risk trying a change of plans even if she could think of a decent one. She closed her eyes, tightened her grip around him, and tried not to care. Geronimo, she thought, and disappeared.

Michelle fell flat against the wall and immediately slithered over it, the giddy panic of the unprecedented height quickly replaced with sickening, terrified dread as she felt her progress begin to be arrested, the same way it had a second before the nails and dragged her back to her knees. But just as the panic began to set in, whatever had held her back began to move, flowing along behind her as if she were dragging a weighted net.

She barely had time to consider the strangeness of the sensation as the weightless, hollow fear of the drop grew while the pavement below rapidly flew closer. She didn’t seem to be able to slow down, let alone stop; she was afraid to try too hard lest she lose him; she was pretty certain they were about to splatter on the sidewalk-

But they didn’t. Michelle stretched along the sidewalk in shocked relief that she’d changed planes, and quickly slid up the storefront behind her. She glanced around in surprised confusion, and would have flinched if she could have when she spotted Radu’s shadow beside her, spotlighted in a streetlamp like something from a noir film. She hurried forward a few feet, shrouding them both in more natural darkness.

It was working. That was all that really mattered. No wonder he’d told her to stay low; she wouldn’t be able to drop him. Could she lose him? What would be so difficult to explain if she could shake him off?

Better not to think about it. After a brief look around to orient herself, she set off to the north.

Once again, there was that unnerving, stretched rubber band sensation of getting underway, but this time she found the actual feelings much less disturbing than her associations with them. Though it wasn’t smooth, she was surprised by how easy it was once they were moving, and quickly picked up speed. It felt almost as if she were covered in burrs, unexpected wisps and tatters clinging and fluttering against her as she hurtled along the city streets. She had no sense of it being Radu, no sense of it being anything other than a distraction, but she tried to keep the thought that she was carrying him, that they were attached, somehow, in the back of her mind as she scoured their surroundings for landmarks she recognized.

Her anxiety started to build as she continued to race up the thoroughfare. It had all seemed much more straightforward when she’d been looking down on it, but she was scarcely acquainted with the area around the club, never mind… wherever the bank had been. She was still pretty sure she’d hit the square if she kept straight, and could probably find her way from there, so she tried to focus on landmarks, on keeping Radu’s sinuous presence at hand, and lit up with glee when she realized they were passing behind the theater.

With a quick veer to the east, she shot along an increasingly familiar side street, growing more relieved by the moment. For once, she’d made a mistake that favored her; Ana was on this side of the rise, and in a moment-yes, there was the park on the corner. Michelle dove into an alleyway, flowing halfway down it before resolving into her flesh.

Radu stumbled into corporeality a few feet behind her, his shoulder hitting the wall hard as he bent nearly double, hands braced against his knees, gasping frantically for breath. Michelle looked back over her shoulder at him in surprised dismay just as a door slammed open behind her with a heavy, metal clang that rooted her to the ground in shock.

He wrapped an arm around her waist to drag her back against him, shoving his hands beneath her arms as she crossed them defensively, and buried his face in her hair.

The two middle aged women in stained cook’s whites eyed them incuriously, his ragged breath hot and damp on her neck. Even in her shock she knew not to attract their attention, but his teeth were far too close to her neck so she reached up to fist a hand in his hair to yank him away, but the women were making their way down the alley and she didn’t want them looking back.

He lowered his head to lay his cheek against hers as he turned his head to watch them go, hot and smooth, his chest still heaving; she sagged with relief when they turned the corner, the sheer joy of having gotten away with it dissolving her tension. She slumped back against him with no regard for how much it might burden his straining lungs.

He shifted his grip around her middle, easing her back as he slouched against the wall. She was amazed by the heat of his legs as they pressed against the backs of her thighs. His head hung so that he panted roughly in her ear. His hair was surprisingly soft around her fingers, sweat beginning to dampen his scalp. “Can’t breathe like that?”

He shook his head just enough that she could feel his movement against her cheek. “I’d forgotten,” he wheezed, “how long.” She couldn’t help but crack a smile; served him right.

As soon as his breathing began to steady, Radu slipped his hands from beneath her sleeves and slid them up to her shoulders, squeezing them gently. She restrained the urge to sigh and stood up, letting her fingers slip free from his hair and stepping out of his grasp before anything else could happen. She couldn’t afford to relax.

He straightened behind her, and she slowly began to head for the mouth of the alley, a thick stand of skeletal trees in the park visible behind a line of parked cars on the street between them. She halted about ten feet from it, feeling more secure in the rapidly deepening shadows, and wondered how she was actually going to manage this.

Radu drifted to a halt beside her, and laid a hand on the small of her back, pressing her leather jacket against her. She felt paralyzed, unable to think of a way to thread all of the potentially deadly needles laid out before her.

She tried to shuffle the fraying deck of her short term memory, struggling to put the rapid fire events of the last few days in order, and realized with dawning horror that she genuinely couldn’t remember if Radu and Zachary had ever crossed paths. It didn’t matter what she’d seen; Ash could have shown him to Radu. Would Radu even realize Zachary was the Pilgrim? It was too fraught to lie, but she couldn’t tell him the truth.

“So. I’m not the only one Ana’s helping. There might be other vampires there.” She watched him cock his head from the corner of her eye, and a potential path forward appeared. She told herself he was going to find out anyway. “One of them is new.”

“Ash’s last get.”

“Yes,” she said carefully. That seemed like an assumption too reasonable to bother trying to dispute. She remembered Sofia’s blank, staring eyes, and the predatory, simian way she’d sprinted after her victim. “She’s… really not doing well.” She looked up at him. “It might be better if I went ahead and made sure everything is okay first.”

He shook his head, his face covered in shadow. “Unwise.”

“See the park? Past the other side, It’s all townhouses. Ana’s in the fourth or fifth one down. It’s yellow brick, next to a red one. If the others are there-”

“They stand before us.”

Michelle’s eyes widened as she whipped her head around to frantically scan the narrow view the mouth of the alley afforded them. It took her a second pass, but obscured by the waxy round leaves of the evergreen hedges between them, a small woman with bright coppery hair, clad in a gray sweat suit, sat on the edge of a small, decorative rock wall that ringed a fountain at the far corner of the park. Beside her, his back also to them, loomed a tall, dark figure that could only be Zachary.

She swallowed thickly. She’d seen how close to the verge of despair Zachary had been over Sofia’s behavior, and now here he was with her out in public. This couldn’t be good. “Yeah, that’s weird,” she said, struggling for a neutral tone. “Let me go see what’s going on.”

Radu caught her by the forearm as she made to leave. “Do not risk conflict in public.”

“She’s already gone off in public,” Michelle said, trying to mute her frustration. “What if you scare her? Just let me see why they’re out here.” She couldn’t quite make herself suggest it might be good news. “I’ll be directly in your line of sight the whole time. If anything weird happens, we can just run.” She sighed. “We can try sending for her.”

Radu regarded her for a long moment, then slowly withdrew his hand. She felt an unexpected rush of gratitude. “Just give me, like, five minutes. It’s probably nothing. Maybe she perked up a little and wanted some space,” she said, surprised by how plausible it sounded.

He arched an eyebrow at her with a sardonic expression, but said nothing as he leaned his shoulder against the brick wall, folding his arms across his chest.

Michelle stepped out onto a surprisingly lightly populated sidewalk. A quick glance indicated this was a shopping corridor: a green grocer, a butcher, a few restaurants that had mostly closed for the day or weren’t quite open yet.

She stepped off the curb in between two parked cars, checked both ways very carefully, and made her way across the street. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her jeans as she climbed onto the sidewalk, trying to look as nonchalant as possible while she made her way into the park. Nothing strange going on here; just meeting some friends.

Her boot sank far enough into the muddy grass to throw off her stride; she’d expected frozen ground, but the melting snow had turned it into a swamp. At the sound of her squelching free, Zachary glanced over his shoulder, his blue eyes immediately settling on her. He turned slightly as she approached, acknowledging her, but, she realized with dismay, still fully ready to tackle Sofia, who sat motionlessly. “She’s not answering,” he said quietly as soon as she was within earshot.

“What?”

He flicked a finger towards the row of houses marching away from them. “The doctor doesn’t seem to be in.”

Michelle drew up short, dropping a foot in mid stride. “Oh.” She craned her neck for a truncated view of the sidewalk, and then peered down the narrow alley that separated the park from the housing block, as if she might be there. “That’s.” She raised a hand to her mouth, hardly able to think over the blank, dull static that had crackled to life in her mind. “She could be busy,” she offered.

Zachary nodded. “She could.” He followed Michelle’s gaze. An older gentleman in a thick camelhair coat made his way up the wet sidewalk, umbrella tucked under his arm. “I’ve been wondering if you may not have run across her.” He returned his attention to her, his tone leaden. His gaze was cold enough to freeze her to the spot, his eyes a dark, drowning blue, no hope of rescue contained within.

“Oh my God, no.” Michelle raised a hand to her chest, genuinely appalled by his suspicions. For the first time, Sofia moved, tilting her head up to regard Michelle with flat, predatory appraisal. Her eyes were as pale as ice chips, the impossible blue of a husky dog’s, ringed with bruised brown circles of flesh. Huddled in the slightly too large hoodie, undoubtedly borrowed from Ana, she looked like a teenage junkie. In trying to make sense of that blank, unpredictable stare, Michelle had the first inkling that she might be in real danger here.

“No,” she repeated, raising her hands, uncertain if she meant to soothe or demonstrate harmlessness. “No, I-God, you’re gonna hate this.” There wasn’t much traffic noise; could Radu hear her? He hadn’t seemed to notice the security guard at the bank, but, then, neither had she. As frustrating as it was, she’d have to assume he could. “Last night-a lot of stuff happened. I really meant to come back, but-I need to see her more than ever. Everything’s changed. We need her to explain this.” She spread her hands and looked at him entreatingly, hoping with all her heart that her sincerity would convince him of her innocence. “Are we sure she’s not… stuck in traffic?” It would be absolutely vampiric of them to tear into one another in public due to a closed exit.

She was nearly overwhelmed by gratitude when he slowly turned his head away to look back up the sidewalk. “I hear nothing within.”

“You had plans? She said she’d be here?”

He nodded, his lank brown hair catching on his collar. “She’s had difficulties locating the medicine she discussed with us.”

“Oh.” She looked down at Sofia, who had yet to stop staring at her. Was there a spark of intellect glittering in those eerie eyes, or was she simply giving Michelle the creeps? She looked away sheepishly, trying to think as quickly as she could.

Of all the things that could go wrong, she hadn’t considered this one. It could be completely fine-Ana could have stopped for dinner on the way back from a distant pharmacy-but Radu wasn’t going to tolerate waiting around in the hopes of her appearance. Closing her eyes, she concentrated as hard as she could on the sounds around her. Footsteps on pavement and carpets and creaking floorboards; the clatter of plates and ice cubes and car mufflers; voices, endless voices, real and recorded; the soft thump and hiss of countless machines she couldn’t name; but nothing she could zero in on, nothing she could even swear came from near Ana’s flat. “I can’t tell,” she sighed. “We should go in.”

Zachary turned to face her for the first time. He was only a bit taller than her, just enough to have to look down to meet her eyes. She was always a little taken aback to realize how thin the frame hidden beneath his heavy wool coat was, but this time it was followed immediately by the sickening realization that he had to be carrying the sword under it. Would Radu be able to tell? Would he realize Michelle’s lie, or would he blame Zachary for a recent theft? Would any of them survive the discussion?

“It’s a private residence.”

Michelle blinked, startled out of her racing thoughts. “Not to snoop! Maybe… maybe she left a note. Or jotted down an address or something.” She couldn’t quite smother a laugh at her own absurdity, and shamefully schooled her demeanor into seriousness. “We wouldn’t be violating her privacy. Something could be wrong.”

The corners of Zachary’s mouth lifted slightly. “I don’t think we can enter.”

“Oh!” Another potentially devastating problem that she hadn’t anticipated; as far as she knew, that only applied to holy ground, but she wasn’t going to reveal her ignorance, and decided to try ignoring the problem. “But we’ve been invited. I think it’ll stick.” She sighed, and spread her hands helplessly. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Something was tickling the back of her thoughts, almost like a sneeze, but she was distracted by movement in the corner of her eye as Sofia turned her head at a tendon-creaking angle to peer over her shoulder. Michelle tracked the angle of her eyes and found that Sofia was staring directly into the mouth of the alley Radu occupied; if Michelle looked carefully, she could just make out his leather boots picked out in streetlight reflecting from the pavement.

Trying to make it look as if she were casually shifting her weight, Michelle slightly moved over to block Sofia’s sightline. Sofia slowly turned her head until she was looking over her other shoulder, restoring her view of the alley.

“One of us should watch her,” Michelle said, unsure if she was succeeding in keeping the nervousness out of her tone. “I could just go? Or…?”

Zachary opened his mouth to speak, but they both whipped their heads around at the sharp wooden crack from the alley beside them. She saw the length of the sword press against the inside of his coat as he turned, realized Radu had never asked her where she’d gotten it, and watched in appalled confusion as a light gray blur smashed through the bushes separating them from the man who’d just opened the dumpster.

Zachary had made it a few steps before Michelle was even able to unclench her muscles, but skidded to a halt on the wet grass as Sofia latched on to her unsuspecting victim. He went down with little more than a gurgle; the force of her bites pressed him downward until she crouched over his seated body, hidden in the shadow of the dumpster while she tore relentlessly at his throat.

Michelle gaped in astonishment, hardly able to parse the cyclonic speed of the unexpected violence. A car drove down the street, its headlights illuminating the alley so brightly for a moment she was sure it was turning, but by some infernal luck it continued on.

Her relief at that one small mercy galvanized her into motion. She ducked through the hole in the hedge, and emerged into the alley only to realize she had no idea what to do. This was too public, too populated; if the wrong person looked out their window right now they’d see exactly what was happening, never mind any more passersby. There was no hope for the man, nothing to do but wait for Sofia to finish. Should Michelle stand over her, to help shield her from view? Would that attract more notice? Would Sofia lash out?

She glanced back at Zachary. He hadn’t moved. The leaves and shadows hid his expression from her, but she thought she saw tension in the angle of his jaw. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask, should I get her?, but she realized she had no idea what that might entail.

“This is her third.” Zachary’s normally soft voice was so twisted with contempt and derision it was enough to snap her out of her rising panic. He took an unhurried step forward. “She’s quite efficient, no? A real natural.” Michelle looked up in surprise; the amount of disdain he put into the word was almost as intense as Radu’s had been.

“She’s hungry, and she can’t think straight,” she said, as she stood and watched the young woman savage a man almost twice her size. It felt hollow. “Just-let’s get her into Ana’s apartment.” One of the man’s legs kicked reflexively; Sofia slammed him back into the wall, gnawing harder at his neck. “Cement walls, oak doors, right?” she said, trying to repeat Ana’s boast. As she inhaled, the rich, metallic scent of fresh blood hit her, drying her throat and twisting her stomach with unexpected thirst. It was strong enough she nearly raised a hand to cover her nose, surprised and embarrassed by the force of her reaction.

Zachary stepped through the hedge, but remained a few feet away, watching Sofia at her breakfast with a solemn expression. Michelle glanced around nervously; the two of them were decently obscured by the shaggy bushes, but if anyone so much as walked by…

Sofia jerked her head back with a raw, throaty gasp, startling Michelle back to attention. She could see the cords in the young woman’s neck standing out as she struggled to swallow the last of the blood she’d just slaked herself on. She stared around her, wide- and wild-eyed, finally able to exercise some situational awareness. Her eyes narrowed as they passed over Michelle and Zachary, but she took no particular notice of them as she continued to scan her environment. She sank to one knee beside the body of her victim, her face and the front of her hoodie smeared with crimson, her head on a slow swivel as she peered into the darkness around her.

Michelle felt the dull pain of her nails digging into her palms, and unclenched the nervous fists she hadn’t realized she’d made. “Hey,” she called softly.

Sofia’s head whipped around to focus her gaze on Michelle with laser-like precision, her pale eyes fierce as she rose to her feet and began to stalk towards Michelle. She sensed Zachary tense beside her, and felt her stomach drop. This was all too rapidly approaching even more conflict in public, and she hadn’t been in a fist fight since fourth grade.

“C’mere,” she said, carefully backing through the hole in the hedge. If nothing else, she could give them a little cover. Sofia continued to approach, her movements deliberate and relentless. Michelle continued to back away, keeping plenty of space between them as Sofia emerged from the leaves.

“That’s right. Let’s have some privacy,” Michelle said, trying to keep her tone light. Still in the alley, she saw Zachary lean down, very slowly so as not to attract Sofia’s attention, to watch through the hole.

Sofia continued to advance. If Michelle backed up much further, she was going to find herself beneath the edge of a streetlamp’s beam. She raised her hands in a placatory gesture. “Okay, that’s good!”

The new vampire paid her no heed, mindlessly dedicated to her pursuit. Even her sharp, glittering eyes had gone flat and unfocused, as if she were staring past Michelle. The scarlet gore smearing her was nowhere near as frightening as the utter lack of humanity in her face, her pupils so wide her eyes seemed black. How hungry could she be? “Okay, stop, now,” Michelle said, hating how unsteady her voice sounded. “Stay back by the hedge.” It was hard to focus on anything besides the danger she was in, but heard a thump and saw a brief flicker of movement that she desperately hoped was Zachary coming to her aid instead of another soon-to-be victim.

Sofia’s lip curled back, exposing a razored canine that was surprisingly thick and straight; she was going to have to learn to smile carefully, if she ever had reason to again. Faced with her inexorable approach, Michelle raised her flattened palms. “Stop.”

She did not. Her eyes still hazy, her mouth contorted into a blood-streaked, bestial snarl as Michelle’s hands made contact with her shoulders. Michelle was so frightened she nearly vanished into shadow as she began to slide backwards, slipping on the wet grass as she met the seeming inevitability of Sofia’s movement. She forced herself to brace her legs, the treads of her boots gaining traction and allowing her to hold Sofia off, but she wasn’t sure for how long. She was so strong; it was like struggling to keep a marble pillar from collapsing on her.

“Sofia, stop it.” Michelle grabbed her shoulders. They were almost face to face; if Sofia swiped at her, lunged for her, there was no way to dodge.

Sofia planted her own feet and leaned into her grip so hard Michelle’s elbows nearly buckled. Her mouth worked spasmodically, blood drooling from the corners of her lips. Her eyes were finally fixed on Michelle, cold and blue and empty of everything.

“Sofia, stop. I need you to listen to me.” Unable to keep the rising panic out of her tone, Michelle shook her by the shoulders, earning her a vicious, guttural snarl in return. She raised her hands to grab Michelle’s forearms, hard enough to hurt through the padded leather. “Sofia, I really need you to calm down. Just calm down, and act normal, okay? Just stop.”

Sofia’s upper lip skinned back from her teeth, revealing her monstrous, bloodied fangs as her mouth fell fully open. Michelle’s hands clenched spasmodically on Sofia’s shoulders as she frantically tried to think of what to do next.

“Uh, yeah, sure.” The weight on her arms eased as Sofia straightened. The young woman glanced around, puzzlement writ large on her gore-streaked face, and sheepishly let her hands slip from Michelle’s arms. “Sorry.”

Michelle’s own mouth hung open in shock. “Sofia?”

“Yes?” She looked down at Michelle’s hands on her shoulders and, carefully watching Michelle from the corner of her eye, uncertainly took a step backward. Michelle let her go, eyes wide with astonishment, arms still extended before her. “I… I’m not sure how we got here.”

“Oh. Um.” Michelle saw with relief that Zachary was behind Sofia, and took a few silent paces forward, but didn’t quite close the distance. “That’s. Uh.” She blinked, shaking her head in an attempt to clear her thoughts. “Do you… remember anything?”

Sofia shook her head, a clump of her short auburn hair sticking to the blood on her cheek as a vague frown drew her mouth downwards. “I’ve seen both of you before.”

“Well met.”

Michelle nearly leapt out of her skin as the harsh voice sawed through the darkness, her sharp intake of breath too close to a squeal as she spun around. Radu stood perhaps a dozen feet away, hands folded behind his back, the light from the streetlamp casting him in silhouette, his frozen breath still hanging before him in the night air.

For a moment Michelle was pathetically grateful for his presence, but the relief quickly vanished as he began to approach with a slow, heavy towards them. Tension crackled through the air like a rising gale; this could all still go so badly, and she didn’t know what to do to stop it.

“What is the meaning of this display?”

Michelle couldn’t quite restrain a flinch at his measured, reasonable tone; she’d only ever heard it presage mayhem. He laid a hand on the small of her back as he drew alongside her, but she found the touch anything but reassuring. Sofia’s brows lowered in confusion; Michelle followed Radu’s gaze, and realized he was speaking to Zachary, who met his gaze unflinchingly.

Radu’s slow, even breathing echoed in her ears like waves crashing on a beach, his heart a steady drumbeat beneath it. There was no way they wouldn’t be able to tell that something was very different about him, and no way to predict how they’d react once the shock wore off.

Courtesy, not kindness. “Radu, this is Sofia, the pianist, and Zachary.” Michelle was impressed with how even her words sounded, and fought to keep them level as she plunged onto treacherous conversational ground. “This is Radu Vladislas.” She debated adding a title to appease him, but quickly discarded the notion; Sofia wouldn’t understand, and Zachary would be even more likely to explode. “My sire.” Hopefully it was enough.

Silence met her introductions. She waited a moment to allow for violence to erupt, and then hurried to fill it. “Like I said, a lot of stuff happened last night. Ana needs to look at him.” She raised a conciliatory hand to Zachary, before turning to look up at Radu. “Ana’s supposed to be here, but she isn’t. We need to look for her.” She didn’t quite dare meet his eyes; she was hoping for peace so fervently that she was afraid he’d take it as an attack.
That sparked an idea. “Can we get into her house?” she asked Radu, hoping to distract him from the conflict she could already feel simmering. “She’s invited us in before.”

Radu seemed not to hear her, his gaze still fixed on Zachary. “Who came before you?”

“Serena.” Zachary’s voice was tight, his speech clipped. “Dead this century since.”

“How so?”

“She was my first in many ways.”

Radu coughed a laugh. “Well done.” He turned his head to look at Michelle. “Yes.”

She couldn’t quite see Zachary out of the corner of her eye, and was so nonplussed by Radu’s response she didn’t dare risk upsetting the balance by turning to check his reaction. “Okay. So. We can’t all march over there.”

“There’s a back entrance.” She turned at his voice, and Zachary flicked a finger behind them. As if he’d summoned it, a shockingly loud rumble and the crunch of gravel came from the alley behind the hedge as a car started and wallowed its way onto the street. Michelle’s eyes widened in fear as it pulled past, but Zachary shook his head slightly. “It’s out of sight.” She felt a rush of gratitude as she realized that thump must have been him putting the body in the dumpster; someone else was at least willing to try to be sane.

The unexpected noise had startled Sofia so badly she’d raised her fingers to her mouth; lowering her hand, she seemed to realize for the first time that it was streaked with blood. Her face froze in confusion, and broke into disgust as she looked down to see how ghastly she looked. She quickly schooled her features and unzipped her hoodie, shrugging out of it to reveal a clean white t-shirt nowhere near heavy enough for the weather as she raised the bloody garment to blot at her mouth. As disturbing as her actions were, her demeanor was oddly low key; it was as if she was embarrassed to have discovered lipstick on her teeth.

Calm. Normal. Just like Michelle had asked her to be.

Just like when Michelle had told that woman to take her purse back.

As Sofia glanced around to see if they were watching her hasty ablutions, the roll of her eyes gave Michelle a nasty jolt as she realized that Sofia’s eyes had never been unfocused, she’d simply been looking past Michelle during their confrontation.

She’d been trying to get to Radu.

She refused to let her hands ball into fists; refused to let herself think about the implications. “Okay,” she said, trying to think of what came next, when an unpleasant realization grew strong enough to intrude. “Do you remember Ana?” she asked Sofia.

Sofia shook her head slightly, lowering the hoodie from her face. Her lips might have been a little more red than usual, but she’d done a decent job. “I don’t… know.”

The pause had drawn out for an uncomfortable length; had she actually said no? It didn’t matter. “Dr. Ana Lazar. She’s an expert in this stuff. She’s trying to help you.”

Sofia hugged the hoodie to her chest, taking a moment to ball it up so that none of the stains showed. A spatter of blood had splashed her leg, but it could conceivably have been spaghetti sauce. She still looked like a teenager, but now, with her mussed hair and wide, hollow eyes, like one that had awoken from a bad dream to find reality had been seeping into it. “What stuff?”

Michelle’s heart fell.

She’d gone to lengths so unimaginable she still couldn’t acknowledge them to avoid ever having to have a conversation like this.

“Knowledge best gained indoors, I think.” Zachary’s voice was soft but authoritative, a welcome reprieve from her own thoughts. “If you’ll agree to accompany us, you may find it familiar.”

Sofia looked at him uncertainly, her shoulders tensing; perhaps she had just realized she was alone, at night, with strangers who wanted to lure her off alone. Her eyes showed a little too much white as they slid to Michelle, who nodded in confirmation. “You and Zachary were there last night. I was with you the night before.”

Sofia closed her eyes, revealing how bruised and dark their lids were, and exhaled with a strange hiss. “Green curtains,” she said.

Michelle blinked in confusion, but Zachary nodded, then realized he’d have to speak. “Yes. You laid on a sofa.”

Sofia squeezed her eyes shut so tightly Michelle wasn’t sure if she was struggling to remember, or to block out the new information. Finally, she nodded, and slowly opened her eyes, as if unsure of what would meet them, then nodded once more. “Okay.”

Zachary’s gaze slid past Radu and settled on Michelle.

Yet another fantastic opportunity for everything to go wrong.

Trying not to betray her anxiety to any of them, she looked up at Radu, who met her gaze with a raised eyebrow. She laid a hand on his bent elbow, his hands still folded behind his back. “It’s just up there,” she said quietly, and hoped against all hope that his equanimity would hold.

Wordlessly, he inclined his head towards the alley.

It was all she could do not to sigh with relief. “I’ve only been in the front,” she told Zachary.

He nodded, and extended an arm to Sofia, as if to shepherd her, while pointing with his other hand. “This way, please.” She maintained a cautious distance, but after a nervous glance at Michelle, began to move in the direction he’d indicated. The look Zachary threw over his shoulder weighed much more heavily, but he followed her, the back he clearly didn’t want to turn on them straight and tense.

Radu placed a hand on the small of her back, and urged her after them.

Zachary led them back through the hole in the hedge. Her abdomen clenched with guilty fear as she caught sight of the dumpster, but he had been as good as his word. Nothing was visible except an already darkening spray up the brick wall that blended into its general griminess well enough. If they could avoid attracting too much attention, they just might get away with this.

Perhaps a dozen paces away, another, smaller alley ran behind the houses. As they turned onto it, Michelle couldn’t fathom its purpose; nowhere near wide enough for a garbage truck, she’d have been nervous to drive a car down it, though wheels had rutted the snow enough to give them solid footing as they fell into single file, the low brick walls of the backyards hemming them in. Sofia’s soft, shuffling steps were unmissable as she occasionally crunched snow beneath a gym shoe, but she’d never have known Zachary was there if she hadn’t been looking at him. Radu was still preternaturally light on his feet; she had to make herself listen for his breathing behind her.

Before long, Zachary stopped at a small wrought iron gate. The wall was low enough anyone but a child could have clambered over it, but he reached over to unlatch it, letting the gate swing open in silence.

The yard was small, barely large enough to hold a dozen people, and drifted with humps of smooth, unspoiled snow. Only a path between the gate and the house had been trampled, still obvious footprints leading to the indifferently shoveled back stairs. Ana clearly didn’t spend much time back here.

Zachary quickly crossed the yard and skipped up the steps. She could tell from the lack of movement of his wrist on the knob that it was locked before he turned to shake his head at them.

“Give me a sec.” Michelle melted into shadow and slipped beneath the door, Sofia’s shocked gasp still ringing in her incorporeal ears as the last of her flowed through. She resumed her flesh as soon as she was clear, letting her boots settle heavily on the uneven, peeling linoleum beneath them so the others could hear that she hadn’t gone far. She reached out to flick the lights on out of habit, but stopped herself; she wasn’t sure Radu needed them to see, and she didn’t want to give Sofia more opportunity to see him. She was standing in the small, well-worn kitchen Ana had been heating their blood bags in.

There was a surprisingly serious collection of locks on the door, though most of them seemed older than she was, entombed in generations of chipped paint. After a few frustrated moments of sliding bolts and fumbling with chains, she was able to pull the door open. She gave them a wave, then stepped back, sliding in between the stove and the counter to give them room.

Zachary entered first, alert and wary, Sofia close at his heels. A moment later, Radu joined them in the darkened kitchen. He pushed the door closed with a foot and leaned his back against it, hands in his pockets.

Michelle was suddenly overwhelmed by the realization of how badly she’d cornered herself; she’d have to scramble over the stove to get clear.

Something was wrong. It rose around them like a burgeoning storm, nearly sickening her with the sudden onslaught of anxiety. There were too many of them in too small a space; they needed to spread out, to-

Zachary whipped his head around as if he’d heard something. Michelle instinctively followed his movement, but it still took her a second to realize what he was looking at.

In the middle of the round, scarred wooden table that dominated the space was a small white folded card, like a place setting at a wedding table. The front bore two words in embossed, elegant script: Club Muse.