time, I didn’t risk looking the vampires in the eyes; I’d never been hypnotized by one before, but my experience with the quite friendly Lord Delancaster had put the fear of God in me—something these guys probably lacked.
“Brought us a snack, Trans?” one of them said, hopping down from the dock to land at our feet. He was scrawny, but confident, letting his long trenchcoat drape along his thin form with an ease that Transomnia lacked. Like the poseur vampire, his frosted locks were upswept, and keys dangled from a glittering chain at his belt; but somehow he made it look right. The other vampire’s teased locks were brown but he had a similar trench, similar chain, and equal grasp of style. The first vampire was all business, but the brown-haired hanger-back made an odd hand signal that Transomnia shot back at him.
Gang signs. Jinx wasn’t kidding—a real vampire gang.
“You are a pretty one,” the vampire said. “What’s your name, morsel?”
I glared at him. I couldn’t make out anything about his face other than his glowing blue eyes, but I glared anyway, screwing up my forehead as if I could force myself to maintain my concentration in the face of any psychic assault that he might mount—ridiculous, of course, as my psychic training was about zip. But I could feel my tattoos start to burn as he began to project his aura, and I looked away, jamming my tingling hands in my pockets. I didn’t want a repeat of my insult to Trans, not in the middle of three vampires.
I heard a sudden exhale behind me that ruffled the hair of my ‘hawk.
“My Lord,” the vampire guard said, beginning a bow. Then he caught sight of the collar around my neck, and I saw his eyes widen—and the blue glow fade.
“My apologies, Emissary,” he said, with some respect. “What news do you bring from Lady Saffron’s court?”
“I am here under her protection, but on my own behalf,” I said, looking up to meet his now more-human eyes. They were blue, a clear blue that stood out even in what little light we had from the few spotlights, and his face was fine, even handsome, when he wasn’t putting out his scary vampire mojo. “My name is Dakota Frost. I’m here to consult with the Marquis at the behest of Jinx. I’m told he’s expecting me.”
The vampire stared at me, then inclined his head and spoke to his brownhaired fellow guard. “Should I know any of those names?”
“Well, the Marquis for starters,” Transomnia interjected sarcastically.
“And why did you abandon your post?” the vampire said sharply, and Transomnia stared at the pavement. “And why did the Lord Buckhead see fit to escort you back here, bloodied and covered in mud?”
“These two fought,” Lord Buckhead said, and I suddenly became embarrassed. “He barred her way… and she objected. Forcefully.”
“My, my,” the brownhaired vampire guard said, leaning close in to me. “You objected… and brought our ‘mighty’ Trans low?”
“I could have taken her,” Transomnia said.
“Knowing she was under the protection of the Daywalker?” the blond guard said. “You’re lucky Lord Buckhead intervened. You’re already on your third warning; had you done anything rash, we would have given her your head on a platter.”
“But I—”
“Enough! This is a good gig, and we don’t need you screwing it up. Revy! Take his post. Scare away the curious and the riffraff— especially the prostitutes. But if you get anyone persistent, do what Transomnia was ordered to have done—call the guardhouse for an escort.”
“Yes, Calaphase,” the guard said—and quicker than a blink, leapt off. I whirled, but by the time I had turned, all I could see was the fence shaking. He was gone. I looked back to find Calaphase towering over Transomnia. “Our guests should not find it necessary,” he growled, “to have Lord Buckhead watching over them.”
“How are you really different?” I asked. “You were going to nosh on me.”
Calaphase stared at me briefly, calculatingly. “My apologies,” he said, not sounding apologetic at all. “I was… playing the role I thought you expected. Not all fear us as you do. You have the scent of blood and vampires on you so… I thought you were a willing morsel.”
“We just did this stupid ceremony not an hour ago,” I said, tugging at the collar’s ring. “Besides, Sav—the Lady Saffron is my ex. Every time I see her, she gets clingy.”
“You weren’t in her court before?” he said. “You took her collar just to come here?”