Page 4 of Soulbound Shadows: Part 1

I raised an eyebrow. “You do know you can go out without me, don’t you?” I asked dryly.

“We don’t get the VIP treatment when we’re not with you, though,” Vic pointed out. “Being friends with the son of a vampire king definitely has its perks.”

“Oh, I see how it is,” I said, faux-mournful. “You’re only friends with me for my connections. How cruel of you. How shallow.”

Theo snorted into their drink and kicked me lightly in the shin. “Yep. You caught us. Sorry you had to find out this way.”

“I’ll never forgive you,” I said, utterly deadpan. Nathan looked mildly terrified, his eyes wide under his curly blond mop of hair, and I took pity on him. “I’m joking. These three have been with me through a lot. Besides, they have plenty of influence in their own right.”

Lissa grinned sharply, and Theo gave me their best innocent “who, me?” look, which I’d grown immune to several hundred years ago.

“Seriously, though,” Lissa said. “We’ve barely seen you lately, and given that we, you know, live together, that’s saying something.”

I grimaced. “Council business. You know how it is. I’ve been trying to convince my father to put some of my plans into motion, but he’s…” I trailed off, baring my fangs in a grimace.

“A dick?” Lissa offered.

“Not a big listener,” Theo said.

“Stubborn as hell,” Vic added.

“Uh… A little set in his ways?” Nathan said meekly.

“Set in his ways,” I said. “Yes, that’s one way to put it.” I sighed, reaching up to run a hand through my hair, but Lissa caught my wrist before I could ruin the work she’d put into styling it for me. Grooming was a social activity for vampires, both as a form of bonding and because it was difficult to do your own hair when you couldn’t use a mirror.

“I keep telling him we need to do something about the disappearances. He always listens, always says he’ll take it into consideration, then he doesn’t do anything.” I didn’t bother hiding my frustration. I trusted my friends, and our alcove had a mild sound-muffling charm that not only meant we didn’t have to yell over the music, but also that it would be practically impossible for anyone on the dance floor to eavesdrop. I couldn’t honestly say if I would have tried to mask how irritated I was even if everyone in the club had been listening in. I had plans, actual researched plans, with proposals on paper and numbers to back them up, yet my father still treated me like a foolish, blindly optimistic child. The truth was that I was over nine hundred years old, and it seemed like I was the only high-ranking vampire taking the recent vampiric disappearances seriously.

I thought about the stacks of paper that had accumulated on my desk. Plans for food banks, educational programs for the newly turned, accommodations for vampires who struggled to deal with their heightened senses… all ignored by my father. I slammed back my drink and stood up.

“We’re not here to talk about politics,” I said firmly. “We’re here to dance.”

Lissa and Theo whooped and hollered while Vic grinned as his mate tugged him to his feet. I pulled two small black and silver items from my pocket and pressed one into each ear before I stepped out of the bubble of the muffling charm. Vampiric hearing didn’t mix well with loud nightclubs, so earplugs, lightly enchanted to keep out background noise while keeping music and conversation clear, were a must. The more fashion-forward among us had gotten sets with charms that made them always coordinate with the wearer’s outfit. Perhaps if I got in touch with a few of the enchanters, they would be willing to supply some for less fortunate vampires…

I shook myself. Not what I was here for.

I slid into the crowd, letting the throb and pulse of the music take over. Time became fluid as I lost myself in the energy of the club, and I couldn’t have said how long it was before a vampire with long black hair and gold makeup gleaming on her dark skin began to dance with me. She looked up at me through her lashes, and I grinned, moving closer. The scent of her perfume filled my nostrils with something spicy and warm as she pressed against me. My hands found her waist, then her lips found mine, and not long after, the two of us found a cab back to her place.

3

EVANGELINE

Artifacts, artifacts, artifacts…

I stared at the bookshelf in my living room as I twisted my hair into a bun at the nape of my neck. It would have been more practical to keep it short, given how many scrapes I got into, but I allowed myself a little vanity here and there. As a treat to myself, I’d let the chestnut curls grow out to waist length. I shoved another hairpin into the bun and hoped for the best.

I’d managed to get some sleep. Unfortunately, the later I went to bed, the earlier I woke up. It was just past dawn, and I knew I wouldn’t be able to get back to sleep, so instead of lying in bed thinking about the little mystery that had landed in my lap, I decided I might as well start investigating properly.

I tugged a few books off the shelf and stacked them on my coffee table, but flipping through them didn’t yield anything useful. With a wave of my hand, I sent the books back to their spots on the shelf, then stood to brush some grass-green cat hair from my pants. Time to break out the big guns.

I shrugged on my jacket and headed out into the early morning. The streets of Eldoria were already bustling. That was what you got when a third of the city was nocturnal, while another third didn’t need to sleep at all. It had its downsides—the city was never really quiet, for instance—but it also made the place an ideal spot for all-hours diners.

One of those diners was just down the street. Big Sal’s was the kind of place that seemed as though it had always been there, like when the first creature got the big idea to crawl out of the primordial ooze, Sal had been waiting, with chipped Formica tables, and a plate of hash browns ready to go. The bell jangled when I pushed the door open, and the smell of coffee and cooking meat hit me.

“Angie!” Sal called from behind the counter. She was the only person who called me that, and I was always a little surprised to find I didn’t mind. Sal was a tall, sturdy woman, with short black hair, and a battle axe tattooed on one bicep. She and a few of the other werewolves organized community runs through the parks of the Garden District, and they usually wound up back at the diner, refueling with whatever Sal could make in bulk.

“Sal,” I said warmly. “Could I get my usual breakfast to go, please?”

“ ’Course,” Sal said. “Bruce! Bacon, egg, and cheese to go!”

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