In their world, they have been outted for seventeen years and things aren't going well for them. Though they are stronger and faster, the government has plenty of resources to beat them down and get them in line. And they have. But that is no longer enough for the government. Now they want to kill them...all of them. And they have a terrifying, viable plan to do it.
Read an excerpt from Book One Blood Judgment.
Chapter One
THAT JULIAN could
sense vampires was bad. That vampires could sense something in him was worse.
He knew
what lurked on the other side of the heavy, vault-like door. He also knew that
the creature was aware of him.
He
put his shoulder against the cold metal and shoved. The door groaned open and
the warm April night wrapped around him. It failed to lift the chill that had
descended over him.
Which
response would he get this time, the usual hostility or veiled disdain
masquerading as cool indifference?
“Come
on, man, get the load out of your shorts and move it.” Tommy, a fellow
musician, spoke over the chatter of their colleagues.
“Stuff
it,” Julian said and exited Benaroya Hall, home of the Seattle Symphony.
The rear
door slammed shut, locking behind them.
A
vampire sprawled on the sidewalk, legs spread wide as he slouched against a
trash bin. Filthy, ill-fitting clothes clung to his frame and unkempt hair fell
over his brow. From his unwashed skin came a musky, feral stink. His shabby
appearance was at odds with the grand concert hall and pristine grounds surrounding
it.
Julian
hoped he would make it past the creature without incident. Being singled out by
vampires disconcerted him no matter how many times it happened. Switching his
violin case to his left hand, he pretended to notice something down the street.
Derisive
laughter compelled Julian to look at the vampire.
Surprise
jolted through him. Though Julian couldn’t place him, the vampire was familiar.
The
vampire bared his teeth in a silent snarl.
Julian
darted a glance at Tommy who seemed oblivious to the exchange with Nosferatu.
The
two men skirted the trash bin and waited at the curb for a break in traffic. Julian
kept the vampire in his peripheral vision.
“What
the hell’s up with so many of them coming into the Restricted Zone?” Tommy
asked. “The damn things are nasty. And they stink.”
“Maybe
if they weren’t forced to live in slums they’d stay out of the restricted
areas.”
“I know you aren’t defending them.”
“No.
It’s just—”
“The
government should have exterminated them when they were outted,” Tommy said.
“Not
all of them cause trouble.”
“Only
because they’re afraid.”
There
was truth in what Tommy said. Seventeen years of subjugation and the
repercussions against those who refused to give in had made a lasting
psychological impression on the vampire community.
“They’re
dangerous. They should be eradicated.” Tommy’s eyes narrowed and his face
morphed into an ugly expression.
“What
would that make us?”
“Smart.”
Without missing a beat, he asked, “When’s your audition?”
“Tuesday,”
Julian said.
“Don’t
bother. Mine’s Monday.”
“You
wish. The concertmaster chair is mine.” It had to be. The violin was his love,
his passion, his mistress. And it was all
he had.
From
the corner of his eye, Julian saw the vampire shift. His dark eyes burned into
Julian, watching him like prey.
Quit staring at me. He almost spoke the
words out loud.
The
vampire’s eyes narrowed. What’s the matter,
Blondie? Afraid you’re gonna be found out?
A
barb of surprise hooked Julian’s insides. What? He gaped at the sneering fiend.
Frosted
amusement curled the vampire’s lips. You
don’t remember me, do you?
Julian’s
mouth dropped open. He clapped it shut. Get
out of my head.
I bet you remember my son.
Cold
fear jabbed Julian’s guts.
I know what you did, Julian.
It wasn’t my fault.
Liar.
The
light at the corner changed and the two musicians hurried across Union Street.
A spot between Julian’s shoulders itched with maddening intensity and his skin
prickle with cold.
Watch your back, Julian.
Surely
the vampire knew better than to do anything stupid. They might not be afraid to
harass a human, but they rarely crossed the line into violence. Not when it
carried the death penalty.
He
glanced behind him. The creature sat motionless, head down. Julian relaxed. The
moment had passed.
Julian
had told the truth. Mostly. He wasn’t responsible for the actions of an
unstable schoolmate. A schoolmate who hadn’t even had the right to be there.
He
wasn’t going to beat himself up over it. Not anymore. Nor was he going to be
intimidated by a fleabag vampire. In an attempt to shut out the incident, he
said, “I’m going to meet some of the girls at Magpies. Want to come along?”
“No,
I’m crapped out. I’m going home.”
“Wimp.”
“Whatever.
If you bring one home, keep it down.” Tommy rolled his eyes. “I don’t need to
listen to you screwing one of your groupies all night. Again.”
“You
know you like listening, you perv. Besides, you’re just jealous.”
“Fuck
off,” Tommy said and smirked.
“That
hurt.”
“Yeah.
Right.”
“You’re
such an asshole.”
“Whatever.
I’ll see you later.” Tommy took off in the direction of their Belltown
apartment.
Julian
continued toward Magpies. Lightning streaked across the sky followed by a
rumble of distant thunder. A storm brewing meant a cab ride home and less money
to spend at the club.
The
notes to O Fortuna burst from his
phone, the ringtone he’d set for Rachael. He scanned her text message.
Hurry up. I wore the red dress for you.
The
first time she’d worn that dress, he’d discovered bare skin beneath thin
fabric. From there, it had been a quick trip down to the lower level of the
club where they’d had heated sex in a tiny bathroom.
He
turned down an alleyway, a familiar shortcut that shaved fifteen minutes off
his travel time. Focusing on the street light at the far end, he hurried
through the darkened passage.
At
the fourth alley, a gust of wind shot down the narrow pathway, scattering loose
newspaper and debris. Squinting, he shielded his eyes from flying dust particles
and whipping strands of hair. He pressed on, staying close to the walls where
shadows swallowed him.
Moments
later, the hairs on his arms lifted.
Tittering
laughter floated on the air and the quiet fall of footsteps confirmed the
presence of others.
Already
knowing what he would see, Julian spun.
Vampires.
Three
young males closed in with the lethal grace of predators.
A
soft thud sounded behind him.
He
whipped around.
Another
vampire, larger than the others, blocked his path. Where had he come from? The rooftop? The fire
escape?
Heart
beating his ribs in a surprise solo, he pivoted to keep all four in sight. How
had they gotten so close without him picking up on them sooner?
The
lone vampire, the obvious leader, advanced. The other three moved with him,
hemming Julian in.
He
appraised each one in an effort to appear unaffected, though he suspected they
picked up every tell-tale sign of fear his body generated.
The
leader’s muscles bulged under a metal-studded coat, stretching the black
leather tight over his form. Long hair fell over his forehead in neon indigo
spikes, highlighting a youthful face set in hard lines.
Indigo’s
eyes glittered with menace and something Julian had never seen before, something
that made his skin clammy. Raw jealousy—that guarded, malevolent sparkle of
greedy anger—burned in the fiend’s gaze.
His
companions were only slightly less bizarre. The smallest sported waist-length
black hair streaked with pure white. A little gold hoop decorated his lip. Adding
to the disaster, a snake tattoo coiled around his throat in overlapping loops.
The
other two had to be brothers. Thick kohl circled their eyes, standing out in
sharp contrast to their teased, hair-sprayed, platinum-blond hair. Each wore a
leather bondage collar, though one had spikes and the other hoops. They stood
so close together they might have been conjoined at the hip.
All
of them were adorned with lace in one fashion or another. They looked like an eighties
new-wave-glitter-band-gone-wrong. An urge to laugh struck Julian so hard he bit
his lip to stop it.
The
vampires circled him and their image lost its humor.
Julian’s
hand tightened on his violin case, easing it away from them. “What do you
want?”
Indigo’s
lip twitched into a snarl. “What do I
want? Justice for my cousin.”
“What?”
“Our
uncle wanted to kill you, but I had a better idea.”
Julian
had a sickening feeling he’d misread the incident at Benaroya Hall. “What are
you talking about?”
“I
think you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about. Juilliard ring a bell?”
Fear
spider-crawled over Julian.
Indigo
sidled closer. “You must think you’re pretty damn slick, weaseling into the
symphony.”
Slick? For being a musician?
A
blast of wind shot through the alley again, whipping Julian’s hair into his
eyes. He blinked and shoved the strands away. The vampires had slipped closer
in the second his eyes were closed.
He
shifted his weight, fighting the urge to move back. Any outward sign of fear would
invite an attack. The foursome meant business, the kind that might leave him on
a slab in cold storage.
Sneering,
Indigo stepped forward. “You little fraud. You have a hell of a fucking nerve.
How long have you been fooling them?”
Julian’s
heart thudded. “Fooling who?”
“How
long have you been passing for human?” Indigo took another step, now
threateningly close.
“What
the hell are you talking about?” Julian fell back a step to regain his personal
space, then silently cursed himself for the unthinking submissive move.
“Cut
the shit. We smell you. Sense you. Vampires always know each other. Even
half-breed, mongrel bastards like you.” He advanced a step, closing the space
created by Julian’s retreat.
Half-breed? “Are you crazy? I’m not a
vampire.” Julian retreated another step. His back touched cold brick. Sweat
slicked his skin. He was in mortal danger. One mistake and the situation might
escalate into something fatal.
In
unison, the fanged quartet stepped closer.
“You’re
vampire all right,” Indigo confirmed. “Just not a full-blooded one.”
Afraid you’re going to be found out? The
words whipsawed through Julian’s mind. Oh,
God. But it wasn’t so. Couldn’t be so. “You’re wrong. My parents were
human.”
“Do
you believe this, the asshole don’t know?” Indigo rolled his eyes.
The
Bondage Twins snickered and Snake Tat shook his head.
“Nope,”
Indigo said. “I don’t believe it either.” A predatory smirk spread over his
face. “But it doesn’t matter. That isn’t the issue, is it?”
“What
do you mean?” Julian asked.
“I
think your punishment should fit your crime.”
“What
crime? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Liar.”
Panic
smothered Julian in a blanket of reeking fear.
“What
do you boys think? Should his punishment equal his crime?” Indigo asked his
comrades.
“Fuck,
yeah,” Snake Tat said.
The others
nodded agreement.
Julian’s
heart crawled up his chest and lodged at the base of his throat.
His
gut instincts screamed that damage to his hands or wrists might end his career.
But it wasn’t a valid concern considering he probably wasn’t going to live to
worry about it. How could he take on a pack of vampires and have a hope of
coming out alive?
He
couldn’t.
Indigo
shook his head in a parody of regret. “No. You can’t win. Poor little
half-breed. Your days of fancy clothes and livin’ it up are done. It’s time to
man-up and pay for what you did.”
Like
the shadows cloaking the alley, the dark scent of fear and anger at his impending
murder hung thick around Julian. “I’m not one of you.”
Indigo
made a show of sniffing, drawing in the poisoned air. His eyes glittered.
“Yeah, pretty-boy, you are.” Then, as if on cue, all four surged forward.
Indigo
grabbed the front of Julian’s jacket and slung him around, slamming him against
the brick wall. He wasn’t prepared for the pain, bright and dazzling, freight-training
from his shoulder down into his hand. His fingers lost their hold on the violin
case and it clattered to the pavement.
Despite
the pain, he drove his fist into Indigo’s guts.
Indigo
let go. And smirked.
Julian
wanted to smash the grin off his face, but he didn’t get the chance. One of the
Bondage Twins struck, slashing downward with long, sharp nails, shredding cloth
and flesh. The claws left burning trails and shocking pain from Julian’s chest
to his navel.
Bellowing,
Julian kicked hard, connecting with the twin’s knee. The blond vampire yelped
and took an awkward step back.
Snake
Tat danced forward and his fist caught Julian in the ribs. Agony flared in his
side and he stumbled back.
Hands
raked at him, nails cutting deep. More blood. The scent permeated the air.
A
fist slammed into Julian’s stomach, doubling him over. Hands shoved him
backward. More fists connected. Nails raked him. His vision wavered. Another
shove. He stumbled and went down hard.
Indigo
advanced and yanked Julian off the pavement. “You’re nothin’ but a sorry piece
of shit,” he said and tossed Julian like a sack of garbage.
He crashed
into a waste bin before dropping to the asphalt. Pain knifed his side, deep and
sharp. His insides felt torn loose, unanchored, and blood coated his mouth. He
groaned and his would-be killers closed around him.
He didn’t
want to die like a dog run down in the street. Gathering the last of his
strength, he tried to rise. Unrelenting pain closed over him and a pit of
blackness rose up.
It
was over.
He
was done.
PAIN WAS the first
thing Julian became aware of. His body sang with it. The next thing was that he
lay on the pavement with Indigo cradling him, stroking his face as a parent
might do with a sleeping child.
Julian
stiffened.
Indigo
tightened his grip. “Smellin’ all that blood’s kicked up my appetite.” His lips
twitched.
Julian’s
stomach clenched. Oh Jesus. “No!”
“Oh
yes, pretty-boy,” Indigo crooned.
Tensing,
Julian growled as he stared into blazing blue eyes lacking even a spark of
humanity. Teeth bared, he fought to yank himself free.
Indigo
snorted. “And you think you aren’t one of us. The traits are all there.”
Almost
too fast for comprehension, he sank his fangs into Julian’s throat.
Sharp,
searing pain froze Julian as horror took control. The thick scent of fresh
blood rose in the damp air. He broke free, and with a blind swing of his fist,
connected with Indigo’s face.
Indigo
backed off. Blood smeared his lips and trickled from the corner of his mouth. His
hand lashed out and caught Julian’s jaw in a painful grip. He jerked back, but
Indigo held on.
Eyes
darkening, Indigo’s hand tightened. Something cracked. Agony exploded through
Julian’s face. He howled, causing more pain with the movement of his jaw.
Indigo
dragged him close, fastened on the bleeding neck wound, and fed voraciously.
Panicked,
Julian flailed uselessly. After long moments of heart-pounding horror, his
vision blurred. The alley distorted and struggling became difficult. Unable to
do anything else, he stilled and lay helpless against Indigo.
The
warmth of the creature felt good, countering the deep chill taking over his
body. Indigo was killing him. Moaning, he closed his eyes.
The
vampire thrust him away. Julian collapsed on the asphalt where he lay in a
shivering heap. Blood flowed from the puncture wounds and ran down inside his
shirt with each slow beat of his heart. He smelled it. So did the others.
One
growled, another hissed.
Bastards. He struggled to draw his legs under
him. If he could get up… Wasn’t going to happen. He tried again. The alley
spun, nauseating him. Groaning, he curled up.
He
didn’t want to die in a dirty, stinking alley. He didn’t want to die at all. He
was only twenty-four years old. He wasn’t ready.
They
talked among themselves, but it sounded far away as deeper coldness stole over
him. He shivered and waited for unconsciousness to release him from the inescapable
nightmare.
Indigo
sauntered over and dropped to his knees. Without forewarning, he bit into his
own wrist and wrenched Julian’s mouth open.
Pain
cut through the fog, jerking him to full cognizance. Indigo jammed his wrist to
Julian’s mouth, cutting off his agonized cry. A horrific gush of blood poured
down his throat in a hot, choking surge. Gagging, he shoved at Indigo.
Indigo
grabbed a fist-full of Julian’s hair. “Drink. Or you’ll die within the hour.”
He ground his wrist into position.
Julian
pushed against Indigo, trying not to swallow. He wouldn’t die if he made it to
the street. Someone would help him.
“Drink
my blood or die. Your choice.” Indigo shifted his arm, straightening it until
his blood flowed faster. The coppery, nasty poison pushed down Julian’s throat
in a strangling rush. Choking on the hot liquid, he swallowed.
Long minutes
passed before Indigo pulled his wrist away. Gagging, Julian rolled to his side.
Indigo grabbed Julian’s jacket and yanked him onto his back. “Puke and I’ll
make you do it again. Got it?”
Julian
moaned, but nodded.
Sneering,
Indigo launched to his feet.
Julian’s
fingers scraped over the asphalt in halting, clawing motions as revulsion
twisted his insides. Vampire blood wouldn’t convert a human. But a cross-breed
would turn.
What if Indigo was right? What if a vampire
had sired him instead of a human? He sure as hell wouldn’t know. How could he
when he had no memories of his father?
Pain
lanced his stomach and he curled up again. What was going to happen to him? Why
hadn’t they killed him instead? Why this? A shudder ran though him. They hadn’t
slaughtered him because this was worse than death.
“That
isn’t enough. He won’t survive.” The voice sounded faint and distant,
unimportant.
Julian
didn’t know which vampire spoke and he didn’t care.
As he
fought to keep panic at bay, a memory of Juilliard and a student drifted up
from the flotsam of his mind. A half-breed. A kid he’d hated. He squeezed his
eyes shut, trying to will the memory away.
“It’s
enough,” Indigo said. “It’ll start the conversion. I want him starving as soon
as he changes. I want this little fuck to suffer.”
“He’s
in for a hard adjustment on his own,” Snake Tat said, his voice softening a
tad. If he’d developed a conscience, it was too late now.
“So.
You think I give a flying shit?” Indigo strode back to Julian and patted him
down. He plucked Julian’s wallet, took the money out, and discarded the rest.
Then he sauntered across the alley and squatted by the violin case.
Julian
didn’t give a shit about the money, but the violin was part of him. “Please,”
he said, not caring in the least that he’d been reduced to begging. “Please.
Leave my violin alone.”
Indigo
popped open the snaps and went for the zippers.
Julian
tried to get up. He had to save the violin.
Indigo
clicked open the latch and lifted the lid.
Julian’s
heart twisted and he struggled to rise. “Please, please don’t hurt it!”
Indigo
took the violin from its velvet-lined case. “You won’t need this sissy-ass shit
anymore.”
“No!”
Indigo
hoisted the violin and slammed it down on the pavement. The antique instrument
splintered and pieces skittered across the asphalt.
Julian
jerked as if kicked.
Indigo
took the bow from the case and ripped the horse hair from the stick. Not
satisfied with that, he bent the wood until it snapped in half and tossed the
pieces on Julian.
Julian’s
hands curled in helpless impotence. “You’ll pay for this,” he croaked.
“Someday, you’re going to pay for this.”
“Yeah?
I’m scared.” Indigo motioned to his cohorts. “Come on, we’re done with this
piece of shit.”
Their
laughter floated behind them, leaving Julian alone with the remnants of his
life. His clawing fingers touched and closed on a piece of varnished wood. He
made a fist around the fragment.
Shuddering,
he drew himself into a ball against the growing cold in his body. He lost track
of time, of how long he laid there on the pavement.
A few
minutes, or hours, later, fat drops of rain pelted his face and the need for
shelter overrode his pain. He sat up, grabbed his wallet with numb fingers, and
staggered to his feet.
A fresh
wave of cutting pain assaulted his body. Shit, he was messed up.
On
unsteady legs, shivering, he considered his options. Overhead, gray, rain-thickened
clouds choked the sky. He had to get moving.
He
needed medical care, but that was out of the question. Only humans received
services. He couldn’t chance it. Not when he no longer knew what he was.
Seeking help might backfire and send him into the clutches of the Vampire
Control and Security Center. A chill crawled over him.
His
phone! He would call Tommy and he could… What? He didn’t know. Still, he fished
out the phone. It rattled in his shaking hand and a crack zigzagged across the
screen. He pressed the power button. No response. His gut tightened.
What
the fuck was he going to do? He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back
from his face. He had to get home. He’d figure it out from there.
He
took a step. His shoe crunched on the shards of the one-hundred-year-old violin.
Its loss ripped his heart. With its destruction, he’d lost a friend, but the
world had lost a thing of beauty. Now it, like him, was destroyed. Dead. There
weren’t even enough remains to gather up.
Forcing
his feet to move, he stumbled through the alley and headed for Belltown. It
took less than a block of shaky steps and shocked stares from the people he
passed to know he wasn’t going to make it home.
He cut
into another alley. Warehouses flanked both sides. One had cracked and missing
windowpanes. He tried the door. Locked.
Undeterred,
he wrapped his jacket around his hand and knocked the remaining glass from one
of the windows. After brushing away the shards, with some difficulty, he hauled
himself through the opening.
Off-balance,
he fell, landing on the concrete floor with a thud. White-hot pain shot through
his brutalized body. Moaning, he curled onto his side.
Enough
light from an outside lamp filtered through the dirt-crusted windows for him to
see his surroundings. Haphazard stacks of discarded boxes, scattered skids, and
trash attested to a building long devoid of use.
When
he was able, he struggled to his feet and headed for what looked like an office.
The door opened onto a tiny, stale-smelling cubbyhole with ratty orange
carpeting and nothing else.
He stepped
inside and closed the door. Darkness enveloped him. Feeling for the lock, he
flipped it and eased down on the floor.
Cold,
shivering, and hurting, he pulled his jacket tighter and stared into black
nothingness. The total darkness unnerved him. The unknown past, present, and
future ate at him like crows picking his guts.
He
couldn’t be part vampire. It wasn’t possible. Fear, anger, and confusion tore
through him. He found the inside pocket of his jacket where his hand closed on
a tiny knife.
Moving
slowly, he managed to free himself from the remaining shreds of his expensive
jacket. With shaking fingers, he unbuttoned the cuffs of his ruined shirt and rolled
up the sleeves, exposing forearms bearing countless scars.
A
flicker of shame ignited, but it wasn’t enough to stop him. He’d gained more
than a music education at Juilliard. He’d learned how to cope. He’d learned a
knife brought relief from gut-twisting guilt, relief from anguish and
loneliness, and relief from the stress of constant competition.
Right now, he needed relief.
He opened the blade, placed it on the inside of his arm and
dragged it downward. He didn’t need light to sense blood welling in a long,
thin line. He made another cut and another, until everything faded and blessed
relief spread through him like a drug.
Unlike
the other pain in his body, this was sweet, healing pain. Something within his
control. Something he needed. Something to help him stay sane.
JULIAN JERKED awake
and lurched upright. Guts churning, clammy sweat slicked his fevered skin. Sure
he was going to be sick, he rolled to his knees and folded his arms over his
stomach.
Agony
slashed through him. He moaned and held himself against the pain. A second wave
hit and didn’t relent. His stomach convulsed and vomit spewed from his gaping
mouth. The retching continued for long awful moments until he was empty and
weak.
Shaking,
he crawled away from the stinking mess and collapsed, writhing helplessly as
pain cut through him.
Time
skewed. He didn’t know if the agony lasted one hour or a dozen. Even his mouth
hurt. He pressed on his gums. The pain increased and something shifted under
his fingers. He snatched his hand away.
When
the ache eased, he touched his canines which were now slightly elongated and sharp.
He stroked his tongue over them.
Oh, fuck.
Shudders
racked his body, but the pain lessened and that was worse.
Because
now he knew.
Now
the vampires’ hate-filled stares made sense. Ignorance was no excuse in their
world.
But,
oh God, he wanted that ignorance back. He wanted what those four thieving
bastards had stolen from him.
No
longer welcome among humans, he had no idea how to survive among vampires.
Or even
if he could.
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