Page 55 of Because the Night

“It pays to be cautious, and the creatures in L.A. know that. No one wants another cull.” Henry sighs. “Is it true two bodies were found drained of blood and left in public spaces this morning?”

Samuel’s lips thin in irritation. “Yes. Long Beach and Pasadena.”

“Hopefully just a few foolish vampires acting out,” says Rose. “They’re being hunted as we speak. But I understand some of the parties celebrating the easing of the rules were quite rowdy.”

“We’ll find them. Sooner or later.”

Henry throws a leg over the arm of the chair and says nothing.

I take another sip of blood. Not sure where they get the good stuff from, but it tastes so much better than my usual fare from plastic bags. “This world is so complicated.”

“Feeling overwhelmed?” asks Leilah. “Give yourself time. It’s a lot to adjust to.”

And Lucas and Zofia dance on. She throws her head back and laughs and ugh. I can’t do this. Not with all of these people watching me from the crowd. Having all of these emotions about him in the first place is discombobulating as fuck. I rise from my seat with my clutch in hand and say, “Back in a moment.”

“Where are you going,” asks Henry, who has already jumped to his feet.

“Just to check my makeup.”

“I did your makeup. It’s flawless. What are you insinuating?”

I think calm thoughts and smile. “Henry, be calm. I just need a moment.”

“All of these nosy assholes watching all the time,” says Leilah. “I don’t blame you for wanting a break. Lucas and the Woodsman legend was bad enough before he went into hiding for seventy years. Now it’s out of control.”

Henry grunts. “You’re not going to hide away and cry, are you? Father doesn’t like it when you cry. But he especially doesn’t like you crying on your own.”

“No, I’m not going to cry,” I say.

Henry just gives me a look. I have no idea what it means.

“Human girls go to bathrooms in groups, I’m told,” says Leilah. “Would you like some company?”

“I’m fine. But thank you.”

She nods and searches the crowd for Margaret. Her partner stands at the bar with a glass of scotch or similar in her hand. And the look they share…I want that. The open affection and support they show each other. To go through life together as they do. It’s a beautiful idea. Though, I don’t know how practical it is, since my current crush is dancing with his ex-hookup who looks like a supermodel.

Eh. Whatever. As my mother once told me, you can’t control what other people do, you can only control how you react to same.

“I’ll walk you to the door,” says Henry, in an unusually no-nonsense tone.

Benedict watches us go. Nicholas seems to have disappeared. Guess he’s gone hunting.

In a dark hallway off to the side is the bathroom. A pack of giggling humans stumble out and hurry past me. Though, one bares his neck in what I assume is a tease. He should really be more careful. My control is getting better each night. But it’s still not great. The familiar sound of their blood rushing through their veins, the warmth of their bodies, and the scent of them is all right there, making my mouth water.

Henry snaps his teeth playfully at the group. I hustle my ass into the bathroom and ignore them as best I can. To think that less than a week ago, I was one of them. A real live mortal girl with a beating heart and working lungs and all the rest. NowI am this magical, messed-up thing. Who knew being undead came with such a complicated romantic life?

Henry was right, my makeup is flawless. I touch up my nude lipstick just the same. The music from the bar is reduced to a muted thump in here. Whoever built this place put in some seriously thick walls. To have no one near me waiting or watching for a moment is exactly what I wanted. I stretch my neck and roll my shoulders. Just generally trying to decompress. Sometimes you need some space and silence. Along with the administration of a healthy dose of self-respect.

The woman in the mirror is fire. I’ve never looked so good in my life. And if Lucas doesn’t appreciate that fact, then he can go fuck himself. Honestly.

A loud thud comes from out in the hallway, making me jump. It almost sounds like some sort of skirmish is taking place. Then I hear a faint scraping noise behind me, someone moving or something. But it’s too late to so much as turn because the whole world goes dark.

The hard smack of an open palm hitting me on the cheek wakes me up. I gasp and jerk back to evade more of the same, but there’s nothing I can do. Nowhere I can go. I am slumped uncomfortably on the floor. My hands are secured behind my back to a steel post, and silver chains are burning my skin. My face stings, though the pain soon fades. I don’t think I’ve ever actually been hit before—at least not in the face like this.

The last thing I remember is being in the bathroom and hearing the noise from behind me. My shoes and clutch are missing. And the back of my head hurts. Guess they knocked me out to bring me here. Though, if they did, I would have thought an injury like that would be healed by now. But I feel dizzy and weak, and I don’t know what.

This is bad. Really bad. It looks like I’m in another basement. This one, however, lacks all of the faded charm of the speakeasy. Concrete walls, three thugs, and a selection of implements just perfect for torture laid out on the floor. A hammer, pliers, a saw, some knives, and a baseball bat. Along with scissors, a steak knife, a jar of salt, and needle and thread. No idea what the last few things would be used for. But none of it is giving me comfort.

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