He raised a large, black gloved hand. “I didn’t ask about her. I asked, how many?”

“One, Sir.”

“And do you recall the punishment for breaking that one, very simple rule?”

All three managed to nod before their bodies burst into a golden red haze, which quickly dissipated in the falling rain. No flash and flare, no theatric sounds, not even an angry declaration…they’d simply vanished.

Had Logan not seen a vampire die before, she might have felt a tad unnerved by the sight. But having witnessed it a time or two already, she mainly found herself intrigued by how clean the whole process was. There was no release of foul smelling body fluids, no pools of blood to clean up, not even a body to dispose of.

It must be nice to leave nothing behind. Shaking her head to clear the dark memories threatening to overtake her, Logan stepped around the stone-faced ghost and continued down the alley.

She’d barely gotten more than a few feet away before she sensed him fall into step beside her. Eyes focused ahead, hands in her pockets, she kept moving. “Am I supposed to say thank you or something?”

“You have no questions about what you just witnessed?”

“Nope.”

“Why?”

“Why should I?”

“I would think, to one such as yourself, it’s not exactly normal, surmise it’s not something you see every day.”

Great. She was being stereotyped by a vampire. She made a mental note to return the favor at the first available opportunity before shooting him a sideways glare. “Well, since one such as myself happens to walk these alleys rather frequently, one such as myself happens to see that on a fairly regular basis.”

“How often?” he asked, his tone tinged with something between anger and concern.

She shrugged. “Once every two, maybe three weeks. It usually ends with one killing the others or all of them running away when the sun spills over the horizon.” She balanced her arms out to her sides as she prepared to jump over a large, overflowing pothole. “Does it really matter?”

He caught her just as she landed, strong fingers closing tight around her elbow. “Look at me.” He didn’t leave her much choice when he whipped her around to face him.

She tipped her head back and stared up into his piercing blue eyes. Had it been a much earlier time in her life, she might have thought him handsome and those eyes incredibly beautiful, but a decade on the street had done strange things to her perception of beauty.

Had it been a few months ago, she’d have also spit in his face and kneed him in a very special place until he let her go. But after what he’d done to the guys in the alley, she thought better of it. If he could kill other vampires so easily, she could only imagine the mess he’d make of a human.

She momentarily considered the distinct slope of his cheekbones and chiseled cut of his jaw before returning to his eyes. “Happy?”

His firm, full lips drew tight after what felt like an hour of intense scrutiny. “No.”

She wrenched her arm free and started across the street towards a rundown convenience store on the corner. Casting a glance back over her shoulder, she smiled when he moved to follow. “That makes two of us.”

Chapter 2

Kerestyan Nelek stared through the dingy windows of the convenience store, watching intently as the street waif pointed at something on the wall behind the clerk. Unusually tall and thin to the brink of emaciation, she nodded before tossing a few crumpled dollars on the counter.

She stepped out onto the sidewalk less than a minute later, a pack of cigarettes in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Shards of short black hair hung in her green eyes, rain still dripping from the jagged ends even as she stood beneath the tattered green awning.

It wasn’t until she’d opened the pack, discarded the wrapping in a rusty trashcan and lit a cigarette that she finally acknowledged his presence. “Why are you following me?”

He considered her for another long moment. Thus far, she appeared to have little concern for how dire her situation was. Perhaps she didn’t understand. “You’ve seen something you shouldn’t have.”

She laughed. It was a light, feminine sound and far more carefree than he’d anticipated. “Buddy, I’ve seen a lot of things I probably shouldn’t have, and done even more.”

He narrowed his eyes at her dismissal. “My name is not Buddy, and what you’ve seen doesn’t bode well for your survival.”

Again, her melodic laughter filled the air. “Look, Vlad, I’ve lived on the street for a long time. A lot of things don’t and never did bode well for my survival. But at the end of the day, you know what?”

Internally, he grinned at the Dracula reference. It was amazing what modern media had done to his kind. Outwardly, he showed no hint of amusement. “What?”

She drew in a deep breath and blew out a cloud of white smoke. “I’m still here. So spare me the threats and get on with whatever it is you’re going to do.”

Whatever it was he was going to do, had been decided the moment he’d learned of her presence in the alley. Even more unfortunate for her was the lethal edge the decision gained when he’d stared into her eyes and found she possessed several months’ worth of memories involving vampires. However, her apparent and decided lack of concern for not only his very existence, but her own, caused a long forgotten emotion to spark in his mind.

He stepped forward to join her under the awning. “What’s your name?”

She turned and, much to his surprise, motioned for him to follow as she began walking down the sidewalk. “Logan. You?” Taking another drag from her cigarette, her words puffed out past a smile, “Unless it really is Vlad?”

“No, my name isn’t Vlad. It’s Kerestyan.”

“Sounds old.” She tucked the bottle of water into a large pocket on the side of her ragged coat, which was easily three sizes too big and made for a man. “So, Kerestyan, what brings you out into the city on a beautiful night like this?”

The sarcasm dripping from her words wasn’t lost on him. He returned it. “I was watching the Children.”

She coughed out a laugh. “Are you a babysitter?”

“I’m the Lord.”

Another smile spanned her colorless lips, lingering somewhere between playful and devious. “Had I known God was so easy on the eyes, I might have thought twice about giving up on Him.”

He ignored her appraisal of his physical body and focused on her admission. When he chose to engage with human women, they often commented on his pleasing appearance, but very rarely did they bother to share their beliefs with him. “You don’t believe in God?”

She shook her head, lips pursed as she inhaled another mouthful of acrid smoke. “Oh, I believe in Him. I just don’t think He believes in me anymore.”

Kerestyan absorbed the irony of her statement and followed when she turned down another alley. Ambient light from faded billboards and storefronts cast a pale blue glow down the corridor. Refuse containers lined the crumbling brick walls, their contents spilling over the edges, littering the broken pavement in a rainbow of decaying colors. The stench of rotten food, wet animals and old blood hung heavy in the air, reminding him of London a thousand years previous.

He ground his teeth together, a habit he’d adopted well before his earliest memories of London. Vampires were long rumored to be the most depraved, debased species, yet what humanity allowed itself to be surrounded by never ceased to amaze him. He knew few vampires who didn’t surround themselves with luxury at every turn, and even fewer who wouldn’t be enraged if caught in a place like this.

A few feet behind her, Kerestyan watched as rats scurried under windblown tents of damp, yellowed newspapers, squeaking and screaming near Logan’s feet. She appeared to pay them little mind as she moved forward, her long legs allowing her to cover almost as much ground with one step as he could.

He stared at the back of her dark brown coat, which his heightened perception told him had once been a light caramel color. The woman moved with a confidence, a certainty that belied her familiarity with the territory, as if she knew nothing else – no other home.

Although he knew many humans did, Kerestyan had never understood how one could call a stretch of concrete their home. A lush swath of land one fought for and protected, yes. But not a cold, vapid maze of pavement that lent no comforting qualities.

He cast another glance over the dark alley. A home was a place for family, where safety was felt as easily as warmth and comfort. Even in death he knew what it was to have family, what it meant to have a home.

Did Logan have such a place, or was this truly all she knew?

He closed the distance between them in a single stride and tilted his head towards her. “Where are we going?”

“To see Larry.”

“Who is Larry?”

“A drug dealer.”

Kerestyan felt his lips curl. He only knew one dealer in the city who went by the name of Larry, and he’d never been overly fond of the man. “Why are we going to see a drug dealer?”