Free Blood Ties by Kevin Emerson

genuinely excited as he ever had.
    â€œWe’re expected right away for dinner,” said Phlox. Since about New York, her mouth had taken on a permanent tight frown, and her scent was tense. She started quickly down the wide stairs, angling to the left. “Our train was a little late, so keep up!”
    They weaved through the narrow streets, passing shops and open-air markets, and there was a general din and stench to the place that Oliver found overwhelming, but maybe a little intriguing. Even he had to admit that the Underworld had a relaxing air of simplicity and darkness.
    Reaching the pueblo walls, the Nocturnes lined up for one of the manual elevators, which ran up the outside on thick ropes and pulleys. It was operated by two zombies in nondescript gray clothes.
    â€œI’m not going to have to wear that, am I?” Dean asked, gazing dejectedly at the zombies.
    â€œOnly if I make you,” Oliver replied.
    â€œHa ha.”
    They rode the squealing contraption up thirty floors, then stepped off onto a narrow rock walkway. They edged along, a precipitous drop beside them, and finally ducked into a cramped alley.
    Phlox stopped in front of an apartment door. Oliver watched her take a deep breath, then knock. There was a muffled exchange of voices from inside. The door creaked open. A burst of spices greeted Oliver’s nostrils: cinnamon, cloves…
    â€œWell, they arrive at last!” a thin voice hissed, and Phlox’s mother, Myrandah, appeared. She was in her early four hundreds and still stood fairly straight despite her age. She had most of her skin, and her teeth were as white as ever behind black-painted lips. As she stepped out of the dim apartment, the layers of beads and crystal jewelry that she couldn’t get enough of jangled on her wrists and around her neck. She wore a long black dress that flowed to the ground, with a high, embroidered collar that mingled with the many carved earrings that hung low from her ears. Her hair was platinum like Phlox’s, yet pulled back and piled in thick curls atop her head.
    The combination of the dress and the hair was so similar to Phlox that Oliver noticed his mother reach up and quickly stroke at her own hair. He wondered if she was trying to make it look neat, or was worried because it wasn’t as ornately done, or was checking to make sure it didn’t look just like her mother’s. Oliver guessed that it was a bit of all three.
    â€œHello, Mom,” Phlox said, and leaned in as Myrandah offered a cheek.
    â€œHello, my darling Phloxiana. And where are the precious hellspawn?” she asked affectionately, darting right past Phlox and seizing Bane and Oliver in a single hug. She pulled back and smiled warmly at the two of them. “Look at the darling young…” Her eyes momentarily glowed pink with emotion. Then she glanced past Oliver and spied Dean. Her lips tightened to a knowing grin. “Ahh, yes … Oliver brings along his pet. What did you name it?”
    â€œHe’s Dean,” Oliver answered awkwardly.
    Myrandah reached out and stroked Dean’s shoulder. “Does it obey its master?” she asked.
    â€œYeah—” Oliver stammered. “But he’s my friend, too.”
    â€œHa! Of course it is! A vampire’s best friend.” Myrandah turned to Bane. “And ah, yes, how fine and lethal this one becomes.…” Her eyes glowed as she rubbed Bane’s arm, but Oliver noticed her cast a lightning-fast glance at Sebastian that didn’t seem as pleasant. “I bet he excites at the notion of a real blood hunt with the cousins for once.”
    â€œDefinitely,” Bane agreed.
    â€œMother,” Phlox groaned, “Charles doesn’t need to spend his whole time—”
    â€œ Tsss! ” Myrandah interrupted. “What else are the young adults like Bane supposed to do?” she countered, making sure to use Bane’s chosen name. Oliver