It wasn’t until I’d moved into the foster home that the two ruby stakes that had long since been confiscated by the police, appeared like magic on my pillow. I’ve kept them hidden and in my possession ever since, knowing they were the only tie I had left to my past. Jude looked into it once when I asked him about it to see how they came to appear, but he came up empty-handed.
When in my grip, though, they glow with the same markings I now know to be the Northern European Elder Futhark Runes. Like the trunk did, the stakes seem to strengthen and invigorate me. Jude did reveal to me what the markings meant.
Uruz. Life force, health, vigor, strength.
Algiz. Protection, healing, spirituality, higher self.
Tiwaz. Victory, justice, balance, sacrifice, fairness.
Somehow, they connected themselves to me. They found their way to me. The ruby stakes belong to me. One of Jude’s contacts, a historian from another realm, explained that the stakes were comprised of ruby infused with the blood of Christ and splinters of the cross He died upon. It pleases me to be a vessel for a higher being to destroy the evil on this earth.
Mercy be thy way.
I trip over a crack in the sidewalk, earning a snort from James. It’s jolting and reminds me I can reminisce later tonight in bed. Now’s the time to focus.
“Right there,” I say, pointing to a flickering white neon cue ball. “Stay behind me.”
“Please, girl, don’t insult me. I’ve beheaded men for less.”
I grab his bicep. He snarls at me, his dark eyes flashing with fury.
“Behead me later, douchebag. Just let me go first.” I release him and frown. “We don’t have to be enemies.”
“I’m not going to fuck—”
“And I don’t want you to. Jesus. Can we call a truce until we accomplish our mission?”
He narrows his eyes, clenching his jaw, but nods. “Fine. We get in, we watch each other’s backs, and we get out.”
“Great, now let me do the talking.”
And by talking, I mean kick some ass.
I fling open the glass door and scan the space filled with people, looking for the taller ones. The stronger ones. The ones who thrum with power and salivate with their never-ending thirst.
Leroy and Mikey are apparently smart because no one fits the bill. I walk right up to the bar and slap my hand on the surface.
“Where are the Castlerocks?”
The bartender laughs. “Get out of here, kid. You’re not old enough to be in here.”
James grabs my shoulders, moving me out of the way, and leans forward. His wrath ripples from him. “We have a meeting. Take us to the basement, chap, or I’ll send all your patrons home with missing teeth. Don’t try me, fucker.”
Whatever creepy-ass vibe James puts off, it clearly freaks out the bartender. It’s annoying, but it gets the job done. I do wonder, though, about my recruiter partner for the evening. Are his terrifying vibes another version of glamour? Could this massive guy be a vampire disguised as an asshole?
I’m tempted to poke him with my stake, but think better of it.
Jude would whip my ass if I killed his grumpy recruiter. Besides, it’s not unheard of to have vampires who slay their own kind. In fact, we have quite a few of those sprinkled amongst our ranks, though not everyone is privy to that information. Not every vampire is evil.
He’s not.
Pain squeezes my heart. Terrible timing. I can’t afford to hope that somehow Laurent is a friendly vampire. Hell, no vampire is exactly friendly. The ones I have to work with are tolerable at best. Loey’s the only one I consider a real friend, but that girl’s on a death mission. She’s definitely different than most.
However, Laurent is just like them.
The pale-haired siblings.
Cruel, unknown woman and her brother Weston.
They left Laurent there to complete the change alone, with me as a living, breathing bloody temptation just beyond his reach. His growls and howls and demands haunt me to this day.
He wanted to eat me alive.
They came back for him—those evil bastards—and probably blew through every town from here to Los Angeles, devouring people like they were snacks.
I have to kill him.
He’d want that.
Mercy be thy way.
“Follow me,” the bartender grunts, shaking me out of my head.
If I don’t get my head out of my ass, I’m going to get myself killed. I reach under my poncho, removing one of my stakes. The powerful rune magic it’s infused with buzzes against my skin, eager to aid in my mission.
The bartender guides James and me down a long hallway, through a supply room, and through a door that leads to a dank basement. It’s dark and smells musty, but I can sense the malevolence lurking below.
James shoots me a warning look over his shoulder—one I interpret easily. Be careful. I always am. Mercy commands that I am.
We reach the bottom and an older guy with a receding hairline, bulging belly, and a cigarette hanging from his lip glares at us.
“Eddie, why the fuck are the police—”
“Leroy,” Eddie snaps. “They’re not the police.”
Leroy stubs his cigarette into the ashtray and stands up, his stomach jiggling behind his stained shirt. “Get the fuck outta here.”
James prowls his way, his fury damn near clouding the air around us. It makes me wonder if magic is cloaking his true self. This one is a mystery to me.
“I’m here to have a chat with your baby brother,” James spits out. “You can find him and let us speak in peace, or we can do shit the hard way.”
Leroy sneers at him. “You can fuckin’ try, asshole. You’ll have to deal with Ricardo if you want to get to Mikey.”
James starts for the door behind Leroy, shoving the gluttonous bastard out of the way.
“Your funeral,” Leroy bellows.
As soon as James turns the knob, my stakes crackle to life. I grab my second stake, prepared to kick some bloodsucker ass.
Hisses can be heard as the vampires pick up on the energy James and I bring. Between my abilities and James’s unknown ones, the vampires are alarmed and pissed off.
Too damn bad.
I spot Mikey right away. He’s getting his dick sucked by a pale vampire. Based on the slurping and his lolled head, cum isn’t the only thing she’s sucking out of him. The three other vampires abandon the people they’ve been feeding on to rise to their feet, assuming a defensive position.
“I just want the kid,” James states in a bored tone. “Hand him over and we’ll get out of here.”
Mikey flips him off before tangling his fingers in the vampire’s hair. James, no longer patient, grabs the closest vampire by the throat, shoving him against the wall. The thing fights against his hold, but it’s no match for him. James is definitely…more.
I stalk right up to the vampire in front of Mikey and nudge her with my boot. “Beat it, bitch.”
She pops off Mikey’s dick to snarl at me. Unlike the other vampires in the room, her eyes are murky white rather than red. Her head tilts as she takes in my age, blood trickling down her chin.
“I said leave,” I bite out. “If you value your piece of shit life, leave.”
The two other vampires, having decided not to fuck with James, prowl my way, standing behind the woman like they’ll do what it takes to protect her.