But Quen was well aware of them, the tips of his curling hair floating as he tapped a line and let it course through him. Trisk tapped the line as well. It slipped in with a startling quickness, and she staggered at the strength and surety that she’d been missing the last few years.
They were vampires, and it was obvious they were not happy as they ringed her truck, arms crossed over their middles or hands in their pockets. There was no expression on their hard faces, but the hint of bloodlust was enough to scare her. Some were tall and elegant, fair with youth and eager to hurt. Others were older, heavier and short with hard muscle held in check by an anticipation of dealing out pain. But they all stared at them in hunger. Mobs like this were not legal. It was too easy to lose control and potentially reveal themselves to the human race.
But she wasn’t sure there were any humans left in this town.
Together, Trisk, Quen, and Daniel faced them, her truck behind them. Her skin prickled with the force running through Quen’s aura, and she subtly shifted her strength so they would be more in tune. Her clenched jaw eased, but she still jumped when the door to a new, smaller car slammed. Her eyes darted to the narrow, thin man standing beside it at the outskirts. “We got them, Mr. Niles,” one of the men said, and the small man tugged his suit coat straight and came forward.
Mr. Niles looked almost invisible in the flickering streetlight, a part of the shadows even as he moved closer, telling the ring of men to back off with a soft hand motion. His feet scuffed as he halted before them, his mood ambiguous on his long face as he checked an old-fashioned pocket watch and dropped it into his pocket. Exhaling a breath he hadn’t needed to take, he assessed them.
Trisk’s heart pounded. This was a true undead, and she glanced inside the garage, hoping the young witch was hiding. The Weres were still in their parked car across the road. There were no humans apart from Daniel, and it felt wrong and unreal. There were always humans. They were like the trees and the air—keeping Inderlanders alive, keeping them in check.
“The pumps are working, but the attendant is gone,” Quen said, his low voice heavy with threat. “If you get back in your cars, I’ll pump your gas and you can go.”
The surrounding vampires laughed, and Trisk saw Daniel stiffen as he noticed the dead vampire’s longer canines when he smiled. Niles’s expression had no warmth, utterly devoid of emotion other than anger. “We are not here for petrol,” Niles said, his voice carrying a faint Irish accent. “We are here for answers.”
“Then ask,” Quen said, and Trisk tightened her grip on her line, ready for anything.
A flicker of pain crossed the undead’s face, making him almost human for an instant. It was a lie, though, a well-practiced act to lull them into thinking he might have compassion and understanding. The undead remembered love, but they didn’t feel it anymore, or understand it.
“Rick was my child, my scion, my favorite,” Niles said. “I sent him to watch you. Now he’s horribly dead before his time.”
“That wasn’t our doing,” Trisk said, then blanched when he turned his hatred to her.
“Yet he’s unprepared and dead,” he said. “Restitution must be made.”
“If you’re looking for restitution—” Daniel’s voice cut off when the man shifted his gaze to him. “Holy shit,” he whispered, suddenly ashen in the flickering overhead light. Quen scuffed his foot, and the vampire turned away, freeing Daniel before he could be enthralled.
“Look elsewhere for restitution,” Quen said, and Trisk realized he had scratched a half circle in the packed, oil-soaked dirt. Foot moving slow, she scratched another segment. It was a start. She and Quen were good, but there had to be at least ten vampires here. “We didn’t kill him,” Quen finished boldly, and the undead vampire’s fingers twitched.
“We didn’t set the fire,” Trisk said, drawing the man’s attention so Quen could finish the circle. “We weren’t even in the building at the time. I lost my research. So did Dr. Plank. What would we have to gain from killing Rick?” she added, but it sounded hollow. They weren’t listening, just prolonging the anticipation.
“Humans are dying in my city,” the vampire said, and Trisk’s pulse quickened. His city? He was the freaking head vampire of Sacramento? No wonder Rick was so confident—had been confident. “My child suffered. Saladan seeks restitution as well, but all he wants is money. My child’s needs take precedence over his greed. Someone is responsible. I blame you.”
“Humans?” Daniel whispered, then louder, “There was an accident.”
“Shut up,” Trisk hissed as the vampires circling them began to inch closer.
The master vampire looked again at his watch. “An accident,” he echoed. “Yes. Good idea.” He flicked his fingers, and that fast, his men sprang at them. “Take them. Alive.”