Prologue
November
Vilnius, Lithuania
If she was anything but what she was, she would be exhausted. Waiting outside the club, hidden in a cloak created from shadows, she watched. The vision had taken her from Austria through Czechia and Poland to Lithuania.
The dull thud of music vibrated from the old, industrial-looking building. A ton of people had gone in; some loitered outside.
This area of Vilnius was strictly urban. She’d left behind the beauty of Old Town with its narrow streets, tourist shops, and amazing architecture. The club and the surrounding buildings were ugly and severe, architectural reminders of the Soviet era.
She blew out a breath between her lips, her patience waning.
The vampire couple were here. She knew it.
Nerves made her teeth chatter. It couldn’t be the freezing-cold temperature because she barely felt it. Apparently, neither did some of the human clubbers who spilled out of the nightclub doors, no longer wearing the coats they had upon entry. Alcohol did that. It made you oblivious to things like 32°F temperatures. Or so he’d told her.
No.
She threw him from her thoughts.
It would seem the only way she was going to find the vampire couple from her vision was to do what she’d hoped she wouldn’t have to.
She had the same coloring as the human girl from the vision.
That, plus the smell of her unusual blood, would probably draw the vamp couple’s attention away from the girl to her instead.
Butterflies fluttered in her belly and she smirked wryly to herself. One would think, being what she was, that she wouldn’t be nervous to take on a couple of vampires. But these two weren’t typical vampires. What they’d done to humans was … well, the things she’d seen them do haunted her.
They needed to be stopped. Since she was currently without a purpose in life, it seemed only right she should be the one to end them. After all, the visions didn’t just come to her willy-nilly. They meant something. Even if dealing with law-breaking supernaturals was the purview of the Consortium, and she’d likely piss them off with her interference.
Shrugging her shoulders back, she released the shadows covering her from head to foot; they slithered from her body with a shiver before crawling back into the dark corners of the alleyway.
Ignoring the increase in her heart rate, she strode toward the club entrance. The large bouncers at the door dragged their gaze down her body and back up again. They probably thought she was nuts, wearing only jeans and a cropped T-shirt in this weather. Smirking, they stood aside to let her pass.
She felt their eyes on her as she stepped inside the low-lit entrance. She was used to it.
Humans and supernaturals alike were drawn to her.
It never used to irritate her. Nothing really did.
Not so much now. A burn flared to life in her chest sometimes. It had taken her awhile to realize it was anger. Aggravation.
She’d changed.
Not for the better.
With a sigh, she threw off her maudlin thoughts and paid for entrance into the club. The bored-looking woman behind the desk gestured to her hand, and she held it out. The woman proceeded to press a wet stamp to the back of it.
The club name glared at her in bold, blue ink.
Drifting off toward the double doors manned by two more bouncers, she held up the hand with the ink and they allowed her entrance. One of the men winked at her. She gave him a coy smile and sauntered through the opening.
Although she didn’t feel it the way a human would, the thick change in the air informed her that the deafening club was roasting hot.
And no wonder.
It was packed with bodies all jumping to the pounding bass of electronic music. As tall as she was, she still had to stretch onto tiptoes to see above the crowd. At the end of the colossal space was a stage and on it, a deejay.
With her heightened senses, for a moment all she could hear was a thunderous din. All she could smell was fresh sweat and the choking, mingling scents of beer, cologne, and perfume.
She stopped and took a deep breath. After a moment or two, the noise was manageable.
But her heart still thudded out of time with the drumming bass.
It must have been hella hot in the space because her hair was starting to stick to the back of her neck. All she wanted to do was take the hair tie that circled her wrist and capture the pale-blond locks up into a messy bun. But over the years, she’d found that her hair was a feminine weapon. And the vamps would like it.
Leaving it to sway against her bare back, almost touching her arse, she pushed with determination into the clogged club. Eventually she would sense them.
The burn she’d been feeling lately flared now and then as hands took advantage of her in the crowd. Pats on her bottom, caresses across her bare waist. When a girl groped at her breast, the burn inside her spit out embers and she grabbed the girl’s wrist. Careful of her strength, she gave it just enough of a twist to cause the girl to cry out in pain. Releasing her, she continued pushing through the crowded club.
Then she felt it.
All the fine hairs on her body rose as if static electricity charged the air.
There was another supernatural in the vicinity.
She veered between triumph and anxiety.
Hoping neither showed on her face, she turned her head to follow the feeling and her eyes locked with a vampire’s.
Beams of light flickered across the vamp’s face, causing his eyes to flash mercury silver.
With a coquettish tilt of her head, she gave him a deliberately bashful but inviting smile and then continued to push through the crowd toward the edge of the room where there was space to breathe.
To her gratification, the nape of her neck tingled. Awareness tightened her muscles.
He was following her.
Once she’d stepped out of the wave of human bodies that pulsed toward the stage, she turned to lean against a wall. It wasn’t hard to pretend she needed a moment to compose herself.
How anyone thought this was good craic, she’d never understand. It was minus craic, as they said back home.
She’d take a cozy fireplace, an armchair, and a bloody good book over this shit any day of the week.
You were born an eighty-year-old woman, you know that?
Pain clawed at her throat and she grit her teeth, forcing his voice from her head.
Then the vampire was there.
He was the same height as she was with a wiry, ropy physique that belied his strength. None of the humans would know just how strong he was. His dark hair was slicked back off his forehead and looked oily under the lights.
She supposed, though, he had a pretty face with his cut cheekbones and pouty, full lips.
She brushed her fingers across the imaginary sweat on her forehead and gave him a shrug. “It’s a bit warm in here!”
He smirked as he approached and then as he inhaled, he tensed. His eyes flashed silver and he stared at her, completely arrested.
Pretending to be oblivious to the reason why, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and asked shyly, “Something wrong?”
He shook his head. “No. You are just very beautiful.”
The vamp had an accent. Not Lithuanian. She wasn’t sure where he was from. Her vision didn’t tell her that much. He was perhaps Scandinavian or Nordic. She wasn’t schooled enough in accents to be certain either way.
Does it matter? She felt that familiar burn of irritation, this time at herself.