for some time.
Part Five
CITY OF THE DEAD
‘Tis now the very witching time of night,
when churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out
Contagion to this world.
—William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of Hamlet, Prince of Denmark
Aye, this lass is by far the most intriguing of Andorra���s pack of misfits. Riley Poe. I vow she’ll give the Fallen a run
for their coin. Makes me want to stay and join the team, although I know my bride,
Andrea, would no doubt clout my ears for doing so.
—Tristan de Barre, of Dreadmoor Keep
“O h, hell. Go ahead. I’ll catch up with you guys downstairs,” I say to Eli, just as
we start to leave our room. Noah’s at the doorway, waiting. “What’s wrong? Forget
your purse?”
Idiot knows I don’t carry a purse. Not that there’s anything wrong with purses; there’s
just no room on my person. Not while I’m lugging a sword.
Our task for tonight: conceal a sword while maneuvering through the fishbone streets
of Edinburgh.
“Where’s
your
purse?” I throw at Noah. He grins and shrugs.
Eli kisses my nose. “See you downstairs, then.”
I love the way his blue eyes take on a dark shine when he looks at me.
“I think I’m gonna throw up now,” Noah says, then turns and walks off.
Eli joins him. Funny how normal a pair of vampires can be.
I turn back to our room. Hurrying inside, I cross over to my duffel—I haven’t even
unpacked it yet—and find the concealed leather sheath containing a silver dirk. I’m
wearing a snug black long-sleeved Under Armour shirt that clings to my body. I assemble
the thin leather straps of my holster—thinner than a Victoria’s Secret bra strap—adjust
it over my shoulders and around my waist, and slip my sheathed dirk inside. I grab
the black, ankle-length oiled canvas coat, which will completely hide the sheath,
dirk, and sword, and turn to leave.
I noticed you the moment you set foot in Edinburgh. And I’m completely and irrevocably
intrigued.
Adrenaline surges through me and I snap my head around. I search the room. There’s
no one around. Of course there’s not. The voice just formed in my head.
So who the hell is it?
Aye, in time we shall meet. And I look forward to it, Riley Poe. This changes things,
you know. You being here. It changes . . . everything.
“Who are you?” I ask out loud. “Don’t be shy. Give up a name.”
Ah, if only I could. We’ll meet soon enough. Then you’ll know more than my name. Until . . .
I know the voice is now gone. I can no longer feel it residing in my mind. I have
no idea where it came from, but I know it’s not someone on the team. Is it another
vampire lurking in the city? Another otherbeing? One of the Fallen? The voice is almost
familiar. Almost, but not quite. All I know is that it leaves within me a quiver in
its wake.
Just as I jog through the doorway, I jerk to a stop. A sensation of dread fills me.
I glance behind me, look into the gloom of my room, and see nothing there but long,
stretching shadows and furniture. The moment I turn back around, she’s there. She
wasn’t seconds before. Standing just on the other side of the threshold is a young
girl. Black hair. Black dress. Black stockings. Black shoes. Her skin is pasty white,
and large dark eyes stare at me.
For a moment or two, I’m paralyzed. I can’t even speak. Despite being surrounded by
otherbeings on a daily basis, this one feels different.
With mouth wide open and distorted, as if releasing a silent, strangled scream, the
strange little girl throws herself straight at me.
Through me.
My body jerks, and I gasp. I’m filled with icy cold. Not a cool draft on my skin,
but freezing cold
inside
. Like it sifts through my skin, freezes my blood, and scrapes my bones. I shiver
and spin around.
She’s gone. Only the eerie shadows in my room remain. I blink several times.
“What’s wrong?” Victorian says behind me.
I turn toward him. I