Seventeen
Miranda had a hard time concentrating that night. For once she was glad when the show was over. She’d been waiting for Friday long enough.
She bounded down from the stage and barely took the time to gather up her stuff and wave good-bye to the sound and light guys before heading off toward home.
She was in a fantastic mood, almost giggly with anticipation; she wanted to get home, shower off the makeup and sweat that had accumulated in the last few hours—oh, and shave her legs. They were like two bottle brushes, and that wouldn’t do.
There was also a tiny bit of blood left in the bag in her fridge. She wanted to be sure it was gone before David arrived. She still wasn’t sure how she was going to explain what she’d done . . . but he was just going to have to understand. It wasn’t as if she’d turned herself into a vampire. Aside from rebuilding her strength and keeping her from going crazy, drinking that single pint of blood had changed nothing.
Miranda swung down off the bus, smiling at the driver. She’d been riding the same line for a long time now, but only in the last few months had she paid any attention to anything besides her own navel. Now she exchanged jokes with the driver, a flirty older Hispanic man named George who recognized her from the papers.
She could afford a car now, if she wanted, but it seemed pointless when the only places she ever needed to go were on the bus routes and anything was better than trying to park in downtown Austin on a weekend. She was lucky—public transit wasn’t exactly at New York City level here. If she had wanted to go anywhere out of her usual neighborhood, it would have taken considerable planning and several hours’ travel time.
She walked the last block to the apartment humming softly under her breath. A half moon rode the sky overhead amid clouds that heralded a cool, breezy night. It had been a gorgeous spring.
Summer was shaping up to be even better.
Miranda went about her usual post-show routine, but this time in a little bit of a hurry. It was almost eleven, and David was supposed to be there at midnight. She took a hot shower, still with the unscented soap, and threw on her comfy jeans and a T-shirt while she puttered around the house, her hair bunched up on top of her head, her skin cool in the warm apartment air.
She was about to head to the fridge when she heard a knock at the door. A glance at the clock told her it was only 11:25.
She grabbed her phone from her bag as she went to the door, cuing up her messages. Damn it, she should have checked earlier—there was one from David at 10:00, probably saying he’d be early.
Miranda held the phone to her ear as she unlocked the door.
“Miranda,” David’s voice said apologetically, “I’m going to be late. We’re having a server glitch that I have to fix before I can leave, but it shouldn’t take more than an hour—”
The door opened.
Miranda lowered the phone, hitting the END CALL button with her thumb. “Can I help you?”
The woman standing outside was skinny and blond, with blue eyes that were at once icy and aflame.
She wasn’t alone.
“Samuel,” Miranda said. “What are you doing here?”
He didn’t respond. He didn’t look at her, and neither did the other man—vampire—with the woman. A slow ripple of disquiet went through Miranda’s stomach.
She started to slam the door, but the woman caught it and forced it back, shoving Miranda hard into the room. Miranda grabbed the edge of the couch to keep from falling over, her phone tumbling from her hand to the floor.
“You must be Miranda Grey,” the woman said, tipping her head to one side, her smile only partly sane. Her voice was as high as a child’s, almost singsong.
Miranda stood up straight and crossed her arms. “Who are you?”
“My name is Ariana Blackthorn,” she replied.
“That’s impossible. Ariana Blackthorn was beheaded.”
The smile took on a nasty edge. “Nonsense, child. No one can kill me. I am the rightful Queen of this territory. A bow is appropriate.”
“I don’t see a Signet.” Miranda risked a glance around the room—there was nothing she could use as a weapon except for David’s knife in her purse. Even that wouldn’t do her much good unless she could saw through Ariana’s neck.
They’ll send help. Just buy some time.
“No matter,” Ariana said. “I’ll have it as soon as I snatch it from your Prime’s cold corpse.”
“And how are you planning to do that?”
She snorted. “Do I look stupid to you?”
Miranda shrugged. “Mostly just crazy. And kind of ugly, actually. I’d recommend Paul Mitchell hair care and maybe a sandwich.”
“Dear girl,” Ariana said, “You really are quite something. If you had ever been one of us instead of a mere insect, you might have been a force to be reckoned with. But you won’t get that chance, I’m afraid.”
“Let me guess. You’re going to kill me.”
“First you,” she confirmed with a nod. “Then your murdering, meat-fucking bastard of a Prime. But not until I have enough forces to take over the city. All of my allies are converging as we speak. I admit your darling did deal us quite a blow. His little network has been annoying to me. That will be the first thing I tear down once we have taken the Haven.”
“How did you get out of the Haven?” Miranda asked. “They had you under guard.”
“You ask that as if I were ever truly a prisoner. My boys here had it all under control.”
Miranda looked at Samuel. “You betrayed the Prime,” she said. “All this time he trusted you, and you’ve been working for her?”
Samuel spoke almost woodenly. “I am loyal to my rightful leader.”
“What’s this right you keep babbling about?” Miranda wanted to know. “You were never chosen Queen. Auren died and his Signet passed to someone else. That’s how it works.”
“No,” Ariana snarled, coming closer. Miranda held her ground even when the woman was right in her face. “That isn’t how it works. Not for me. I was his beloved, his perfect match. I would have been chosen if my sister hadn’t come along and gotten in the way—she thought she could take him from me.”
“Auren dumped you for your sister? That’s a real shame, a catch like you.”
“It’s all right. Everything worked out. I got him back, and then I got her to trust me. I’m a patient woman. I was biding my time to feed her to the wolves. We made a plan to switch places, and she would escape while I was taken to the Haven. She was a faster runner and better fighter—she thought she could elude that little bitch of a Second and I would be safer as a fake captive. Now she’s out of my way, and when the others arrive, I’ll be the one to take the Signet.”
“When is that supposed to happen?” Miranda asked.
Ariana’s smile returned. “No more monologuing,” she said. “I’m a better villain than that. Boys, take her. We have work to do here.”
They came at her, but she was ready—she didn’t give them time to get the upper hand, but threw herself at Samuel, lashing out with both her power and her right hook. He lurched sideways with a grunt of pain, and she swiveled around to land a kick in the other vampire’s gut.
She heard Ariana scream something at them but didn’t stop to chat; she threw the front door open and ran.
Miranda’s bare feet slapped the pavement painfully, but she couldn’t think about it, couldn’t think about anything but putting as much distance between her and them as possible. She had to find someplace safe and find a way to warn David. If Samuel could get Ariana out of the Haven, he could get her back in, and if no one told the Prime, Samuel could walk right back to his post without anyone ever doubting him.
She angled left, heading straight for downtown where there would be more witnesses. Her senses were on high alert, and she could feel the others pursuing her, their rage a black cloud closing in quickly, too quickly. There was no way she could outrun them. She had to hide, and the best place was amid the teeming mortal life of South Congress.
Her lungs were full of needles, but she didn’t slow down until she was almost at the bridge. Cars passed, their headlights blazing over her, and she nearly mowed down a lone pedestrian as she ran out onto the bridge where, at dusk, millions of Mexican free-tailed bats launched themselves into the sky. Tourists loved to come stand on the bridge and watch them during the summer. Far below, Lady Bird Lake was a black smudge rippled with the reflected lights of the capital city.
She heard their footsteps seconds before she felt hands close around her shoulders. She tried to fight them off, but the element of surprise was gone—they knew she was no weakling, now. Samuel seized her arms and pinned them back, though she struggled wildly, and the other vampire stood between them and the lanes where cars zipped by, oblivious.
Ariana walked up to them, as cool and fresh as if she’d just stepped out of a salon. “Well, that was fun,” she said, laughing gaily. The noise was almost lost to the traffic. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you? Such a waste.”
“I’m going to kill you!” Miranda was still fighting. “I’ll take your head myself!”
Ariana giggled. “Isn’t she cute?”
“Should we take her back and burn her?” Samuel asked.
“No,” Ariana said. “I want there to be a body. I want him to find her, to see her dead and feel her lifeless and cold in his arms. I want him to know what he took from me. Then on the full moon he can lose everything else.”
Ariana held out her hand, and the other vampire placed a dagger into it. The steel blade flashed in the streetlights.
Miranda started to speak again, but Ariana pulled back her arm, and suddenly Miranda’s entire chest felt crushed with agony—she gasped, then choked, looking down to see the hilt of the dagger protruding obscenely from her rib cage.
Her limbs went numb, and she sagged in Samuel’s grasp, feeling her blood begin to flow down her chest, her heart shuddering. The pain was beyond screaming, beyond anything, but she could only make a strangled sound and stare at the dark pool gathering at her feet.
Ariana nodded to Samuel.
As Miranda’s vision went from blue to gray, and then to black, she felt her body being hauled up over the rail, and tossed, useless as a bag of trash, off the bridge and into the darkness of the lake.
She never felt the impact.