Within a Forest Dark

An update, finally! Thanks to everyone who left me such lovely comments, and be sure to head over to my lj to check out huabot's awesome fanart. I also wanted to reassure a few readers that even though I'm a slow reader, I'm not about to abandon any of my stories.

I hit the ground anything but running. I’d smacked into pavement enough times to recognize it when I felt it, but I’d never fell face forward onto it so happily. After the roller coaster of the portal, smashing into solid ground was a relief. I rolled to my feet and tried to get my bearings, feeling my scraped face and hands heal over as I took in my surroundings.

I knew down to my bones that I was in the city. It wasn’t a street I recognized, but nowhere else in the world held that mix of river and grit and gutter stench.

Thank fucking God.

The street was empty, so I took off running. In a crowd I would have walked to avoid attention, but I already stood out here, alone and bare foot, and I wanted to get as far away from Santo as quickly as possible. He had to be right on my trail, possibly already turned into a monster.

It was stupid to feel this relieved. Nothing was all right. The same doors were shut against me that had been before I was captured, and this time I had an angry vamp and a powerful monster hot on my trail. I had been thrown into a whole world of politics I had never known about, and I still had a fucking magic collar on my neck.

But I was out.

Figuring out where I was didn’t take long. This far downtown and so close to the river, the place had to belong to Kincaid. It could have been worse. One of Lupos’ closest neighbors and oldest rivals, she had probably rooted for me while I hunted down his family. I hoped that she had enough going on in the wake of Lupos’ death that she couldn’t be bothered to sic her dogs on me.

The vamps weren’t my biggest problem, anyway. I needed a weapon. A knife wasn’t going to cut it, obviously, what with the collar and Santo’s habit of not dying. I needed something sharper, more subtle, who knew what the fuck was going on and how to stop it. Enemy of my enemy and all that jazz.

And I had to do it fast. Nothing told me I was being followed, but I knew it wouldn’t be that easy. I remembered that Santo had let me run before just to see how far I could get, that he had been able to sneak up on me at the mansion at will. I refused to let myself panic at the idea. We were on my turf now, and I wouldn’t let him get away with it for a second time. If I had any chance at all, it was here, in the city I had made my mark on for the past five years.

Except the city had changed. It wasn’t just the old hunting ground anymore, dog eat dog in back alleys. There were clans and covens and agreements and debts, things that did a whole lot more than go bump in the night. They were the ones who had gotten me into this shit in the first place, and they were going to get me out.

I trotted uptown, keeping to out of the way streets. I wasn’t worried much about human attackers, but it was twilight, and the vamps would be newly rested and ready to play. I looked like prey if they didn’t recognize me, and if any of Lupos’ circle ran into me my name was mud.

I got through Kincaid’s territory without incident, and crossed the broad street that marked out the beginning of Central, the part of the city with free hunting. No nests ruled the area, which meant no battles over territory, but also no back up if you ran into shit. What happened in Central generally stayed in Central. It had the most bars, the best parties, and the worst fights in the entire city.

My main haunts had always been The Fifth Circle, the one neutral bar of the city, and various hunter bars: Hawthorn, High Stakes, Styx, and the rest. I had only ever entered a vamp bar once, and that had back before I’d been a hunter, when I had been too busy worrying about the lights and the drinks and being an enormous gay to notice any fangs. The memory still burned.

Asylum was the oldest vamp bar in the city, as far as I knew. It didn’t look like much, not like some of the blood raves uptown, where Louis used to get his information. They were roaring hellish pits, and this place was deceptively calm in comparison. It looked like it had been built back when the streets were cobblestone, and it suited the cramped, dark street it stood on. “Asylum” was scratched out on the top in dark letters, and the door at the front was closed.

It was a huge risk. Louis walked into these places all the time, but he had vamp friends and known vamp connections. Going in alone was asking for trouble. If I’d had more time I might have scoped out a hunter bar first, but time was the last thing I had. It had been the vamps who had known Santo on sight, when in five years of talking to hunters I had never heard about the older set.

Vamps could smell fear, I reminded myself as I knocked on the door. I had jumped blindly into a magical portal only fifteen minutes ago, so this should be nothing. This was the devil I knew.

The vamp who answered was big and bulky, not the usual weasel variety. He still had a bit of color on him – probably changed recently, and most likely for the sole purpose of guarding the place.

He gave me the once over. I smiled, hoping my expression didn’t betray how badly I wished I was armed. “Hi, stud. You gonna let me in?”

He snorted, crossed his arms, and nodded at my collar. Way back when, before all the vamp business, I would have thought he was just a grumpy bouncer. If I had been the hunter I was before Santo – had that been only weeks ago? – I would have taken it as the usual vamp posturing and communication. Now I wondered if he was trying to speak with his mind as well.

Either way, I got the message. I touched the collar as if I had forgotten it was there. Fat chance. “Gift from a friend – name’s Benedict. Maybe you’ve heard of him?”

The vamp narrowed his eyes, and I tensed. He stared at me for a moment, and then made a noise so mangled by fangs it took me a moment to figure out it was “clan.” Definitely a newbie.

“Tarquin,” I said, remembering Santo’s introduction.

The vamp moved out of the doorway, and I stepped into the lion’s den.

The lights were low and red, making the vamps’ eyes glitter reflectively as they hissed and gestured at each other. There was low jazz playing somewhere, and the murmur of humans amongst the hissing. The place was far from empty, but it wasn’t packed either. So far, so good.

I made my way to the bar, feeling eyes on me as I passed. I knew I smelled good. Luring vamps in used to thrill me, closing in on them as they closed in on me, but now the looks just reminded me of how vulnerable I was. I wasn’t even wearing shoes, for fuck’s sake. This wasn’t a neutral bar, no matter how at ease the humans looked. If they decided to tear me apart, no one would care, and I couldn’t fight back.

I surveyed the people at the bar, and found my mark sitting out of the way, wrapped up in a glass of who knew what. Too quiet and mousy to be a thug, but confident enough to come alone. If things went my way, he was old enough, smart enough, and eager enough to please that he’d tell me what I wanted to know without asking too many questions. If things didn’t go my way… I’d cross that bridge when I got to it.

“Hey, gorgeous. Buy me a drink?” I asked, sitting down next to him.

He jerked and gave me a startled once over while I smiled at him. His hair was rumpled and messy, and his clothes were faded and worn. He had a face like a school teacher, and to complete the image he had a book with him, something Latin on the cover. He nodded, looking nonplussed, and the bartender made her way over. She was everything Collins wasn’t, young and perky and female, and for a moment I thought about how much I’d give to be back at The Fifth Circle. The memory of Collin’s curse and the slam of the door rang in my ears. She fetched me my beer and left, and I was grateful.

He stared at me some more, watching my throat as I swallowed. Classy. I put my beer down. “If you’re trying to talk to me with all that thought stuff, I don’t get it. Too hard headed, I guess. Name’s Victor.”

“Oh, uh… hello, then. Victor. My name is Martin.” His accent wasn’t too bad. Better than most of the vamps I had killed.

“So, Martin, what’s a nice vampire like you doing in a place like this?”

Martin looked around the place like he hadn’t noticed it wasn’t his local library. “I, well, I’m a creature of habit, I suppose.”

I moved closer. “Yeah? I’ve got some habits, too.” I had worked the vamp-slut angle before, but never with this much to lose. I didn’t like it.

Martin swallowed and fumbled with his glass. “I’m not – not sure I’m the one you...”

A shy vamp? I couldn’t help but laugh, nerves making it funnier than it warranted. “No, I think you’re exactly the one I want. See, I’m looking for a bit of information, and you look like the knowledgeable type.”

“Oh.” He muddled with that for a while, and then offered, “So, how may I be of, ah, service?”

Bingo. Now came the tricky part. “I’m new in town, and looking for Benedict of the Tarquin clan. You know where I could get in touch with him?”

“Why would you want to find him?” He seemed genuinely confused, startled out of his blushing virgin routine. Clearly he knew the name, and he didn’t immediately get suspicious or angry or misty eyed.

I shrugged. “Call me ambitious. Can you tell me or not?”

“Uh, well, he owns Revenant, I believe, so you could always leave word there. He’s had a hand in the city since before my time, however, so I doubt there’s much you could do without his knowledge.”

Hadn’t I learned that the hard way. “Just my kind of vamp. The whole city, huh?”

Martin nodded, an earnest undead puppy. “The entire country, if I’m not mistaken, although I’m not a politician by any means. He’s the inferus imperator… do you know what that means?”

“Educate me.” I tried to make it an invitation and not an order, feeling awkward and whorish.

Martin just looked rattled. “Well, um, it’s from the Latin – that is, obviously – I mean, he’s the head vampire. ‘Undead ruler.’ Of the north. North America. There are thirty-five in the world.”

I let Martin fidget while I digested that. The information was new, but not useful. I had been hoping to find Benedict’s territory to avoid it. Now it looked like I would have to cross the pond to get away.

No. Benedict was too pissy to be overflowing with loyal followers, and too powerful not to have enemies. I had heard him talking about them. I just had to find them. And avoid Santo. And the other vamps. And keep my head on my shoulders.

Piece of cake.

“That’s good to hear,” I said, trying to sound relieved and grateful and a little vulnerable. “Anyone I should avoid if I’m looking to play nice with Benedict?” I was taking a risk by aligning myself so hard with Benedict, but who was I kidding? This whole shebang was risk city.

“He’s rather adept at eliminating threats,” Martin said dryly. Like that was news. “But you might want to avoid Charles of Thule. His only hold on the city is Sleepwalk, however, and that’s all the way uptown.”

I had to assume that this Charles was the one Benedict had mentioned, which meant he would be pissed at Benedict and Santo, and someone Benedict had considered a big enough threat to mention. As for the bar, I’d heard the name before. The bar was all the way at the north end of Central, above the park, and not a rave by any means. That could be good news or bad, but I would have to figure it out there. I touched the collar and watched his flat eyes follow the movement. Time to put this baby to bed. “Want to find the bathroom?”

“Yes,” Martin said decisively, only to look scandalized right after. I had never seen a vamp look so conflicted about his desires. Strange. On the other hand, he was still drooling for me, so who cared?

It got worse once we got to the stalls, which were filled with the same red light. He started pulling at his sleeves and making a fool of himself and looking agitatedly at my neck. His accent got worse as his tongue stumbled over his teeth. “We don’t have to – of course, I want to, but you needn’t feel obliged. That is, I wouldn’t want to anger anyone, especially if you belong to – to someone.”

“I don’t belong to anyone.” I drew him into a stall, trying not to think about how small this room felt, about how deep in enemy territory I was, unarmed and hunted. I pulled him in close, watching his eyes widen as he smelled me. He looked terrified. When was the last time he had had blood straight from the source? “Don’t you want this, Martin?”

“Yes.” Bloodlust melted the word. “But… your collar.”

“Don’t worry about it.” I kept my tone soothing, even though all I wanted to do was punch this leech for his obsession with my goddamn collar.

“Who are you, really?”

“No one you know.” I didn’t have time for this. I held up my wrist and bent his head to it, and saw bloodlust overcome him.

I’d never felt anything from a vamp’s bite than irritating pain, and this time was no different. It was watching that had changed. I had no knife to reach for now, and no need to wait for the opportune moment to slice Martin’s neck open. It was just me and him in the red light, and he looked… adoring. He acted like he was seeing God, not sucking out my heartflow like the parasite he was. It was strange.

He collapsed finally, and I caught him and lowered him to the toilet seat. He stared up at me with glazed eyes, in the same melting high vamps always got when they had a taste of my blood. I was counting on it to last a few hours at least, enough to stop him from tattling to anyone long enough for me to get the hell out of dodge.

“Oh god,” he croaked through blood stained lips.

I licked at the blood at my wrist, feeling the cuts from the vamp’s teeth close up under my tongue. There was no way to cover the smell of my blood, but I wanted to keep it under my skin as much as possible.

“Oh god,” Martin repeated, sounding like he was figuring something out, his voice awestruck. “I – you’re…”

I looked up, tensing at the thought that he might have somehow recognized me. I’d had a growing reputation before Lupos, and he might have publicly attached a face to the name. If Martin cried vamp-hunter the shit could really hit the fan.

“I love you.”

That was a new one. Martin looked as shocked as I was by his declaration, and I couldn’t help cracking a relieved smile. Martin was a weird little vamp. Much as my hand itched for a knife to gut him with, I wouldn’t lose sleep over letting him go.

Martin must have gotten over his shock, because he started up as I turned to go: “Don’t leave me. Please. Oh god, please. I love you.”

I didn’t have time for this. I turned back and gave him my least threatening smile. “Stay right here, Martin. I’ll be back.” He nodded obediently and I hustled out of the bar, ignoring the undead eyes on me.

My little adventure hadn’t taken long, but twilight had given way to true night while I was inside. It felt like a different city now that I had a goal in mind, even if it was all the way uptown, over the proverbial hill and through the vampire-ridden woods.

I headed for the nearest uptown subway. It was the quickest route. It might be easier to get trapped there, but I wasn’t safe anywhere, and the sooner I got where I was going the better. I had no money, but the kindness of strangers could be pretty dependable, as long as they were human. I’d dragged myself home in much worse condition.

Home. I hadn’t seen my apartment in almost a month and a half, between Lupos and Santo and my habit of crashing at Louis’ place. My apartment had never felt like home anyway, and my landlord probably thought I was gone for good this time. When this mess was over, I would have to find a new one, and spend a good amount of time it since Louis had so emphatically shut his door in my face. Collins would come around as soon as the danger had passed, I hoped, but Louis…

Louis was not someone I wanted to think about right then, and if nothing else the hissing of vamps saved me from that. They rounded a second later, and it was just my luck that there were four of them, all Lupos’ bitches, and looking hungry to boot. They rushed me and I ran. The race was on.

I pelted to the other side of the street and took off uptown. Lupos’ little weasels were hot on my tail, even if my long legs gave me edge. Shit shit shit. I needed a plan fast. I had no idea if they knew what Santo’s collar had done to me, or if they were just pissed and desperate enough to launch themselves at me, but it didn’t matter. They’d find out soon enough if they got their dead little hands on me.

I turned a corner, heading east, and knocked down a garbage can on the way. I heard a vamp trip and curse, and glanced back. He had picked himself up, but it gave me an idea. The collar hadn’t knocked every weapon out of my hands.

Vamp hunters had their own territory, all the way above the park on the east side of the city, across town from where Sleepwalk was. If there was one place vamps avoided, it was that corner of town. If there was another, it was well lit and well populated public places. And if this city couldn’t provide those, I was a monkey’s uncle.

And dead meat.

Being chased down the street by four vamps I should have been able to shank in my sleep ranked pretty fucking high on my shit scale, but it wasn’t like running from Santo. I knew exactly what was chasing me, and I knew where I was going. I changed direction and hit my stride, my breath coming long and easy. I barely noticed the harsh pavement under my bare feet. This was my city, not some twisted labyrinth I was trapped in. I owned this.

The sixty-fourth street station wasn’t big enough that there would be policemen who would get pissy about my footwear, but it was a dependably trafficked place. There was a good chance the vamps wouldn’t follow me down at all, but if they did there would be enough people to make them cover their freak teeth. I all but flew down the steps, with the vamps only a block behind me.

Silence greeted me. There was no one, not even the normal city worker at the kiosk. Nil, niente, nada. Dead fucking silence, except for the distant rumble of a train. What were the fucking odds of that?

The vamps would have heard the lack of people. I snapped out of it and turned back as they whipped down the steps, teeth definitely not covered. Trapped.

And this had seemed like such a good plan.

They paused as they reached the bottom of the steps, catching their breath now that they had me cornered. It was a moment I should have been taking advantage of, but where could I go? The rumble of the train got louder as they panted.

“Been looking for you for a long time, cocksucker,” one of the vamps taunted. I didn’t know his name, but recognized his face. He had been the last fucker to drink from me before Santo came. “Play nice now, and maybe we can work something out,” he continued, acting like he wasn’t lisping ridiculously with every word.

I thought fast. Was it worth my while to throw in my lot with these assholes? They would certainly have beef with Santo, given the head-ripping incident. But with Lupos’ death their names would be mud, just like I’d wanted when I’d set out to kill him myself. Should I still deal with them? Did I have a choice?

No, I wasn’t doing this. I wasn’t going to let myself get caught again, especially not by these weakling little bastards who had needed to tie me up and beat me before they stooped to drink my blood.

“You want me? Come get me.” I spat and turned, launching myself into the tracks as the roar of the coming train came rushing in at the other end of the station, lights blaring.

I knew I was far enough to clear the train; it was all the way at the other end of the station. But as I leapt into the tracks there was a horrible screeching sound. It was everywhere, making adrenaline burn through me as I bolted for the opposite platform, all half formed plans of running down the tracks gone. I had never heard anything so loud, even when Santo was bellowing in my ear. I leapt up out of the muck, onto the platform, and couldn’t resist looking back.

The stench of blood hit me almost as soon as I did. It was everywhere, spattered all over the bottom of the train, which had clearly only stopped after smashing into the vamps. The ground beneath it was littered with what had been a vampire or three. I didn’t have time to count limbs. I hopped the tollbooth and nearly flew up the steps.

Holy fucking shit.

No vamps had come up the stairs across the street, and I took the chance to stop, psychotic sorcerer on my ass be damned.

What the fuck had happened?

I leant against the entrance to the subway station and let my heart calm down. The city around me was quiet and still, like I hadn’t just killed a couple of vamps with a convenient train. I couldn’t believe it.

I didn’t have time to muddle it out, either, much as I wanted to sit down and puzzle out what had happened. Just because those vamps had either died or given up didn’t meant there wouldn’t be others, and cops were bound to show up any minute.

I ran a quarter mile and got to a more residential area, where I had to walk to avoid attracting notice. I got stares anyway, some of the “hey, sexy” kind but a lot more of the “where are you shoes and when did you bathe last?” kind. Anything that wasn’t Santo’s eerie gaze or a vamp’s flat glare was fine with me.

Except for police sirens, which started blaring at me about a mile north of the train station. “You there,” the megaphone blared in what I doubted was standard protocol. “With no shoes. Stop.”

There was nothing they had on me except curiosity, but I couldn’t afford a stop. Talking to the police would only lead to more questions, none of which I wanted to answer. Then again, unlike vampires there was no part of town the police would avoid, and the vamps wouldn’t attack while I was with them. Even Santo, wherever the fuck he was, might balk a little.

“Hello, officers,” I said, pushing thoughts of Santo out of my mind as the cop riding shotgun got out. She gave me a look that said I had to be guilty of something, but I didn’t let it sway me. The vamp thing had worked. I could play this. I took a page from Martin’s book: “I guess you’ll want to talk to me. I mean, obviously you do. I mean – are they all – you know – did the train?”

The first cop looked only annoyed by my pathetic stuttering as the other cop got out of the car. He was about a foot shorter than me and almost painfully perky. “It’s all right, sir. You’re not in any trouble. We just need to ask you a few questions.”

“Sorry I ran,” I said, running a hand through my hair and looking sheepish. “I just – you know – they were chasing me and then they – oh god – it was awful.”

“What’s your name, sir?” asked the perky cop. “We just need to ask you a few questions."

“Victor Johns.” I gave them a fake address.

“They were chasing you, they said?” asked the first cop.

“Yeah. They got me about, uh, fifteen blocks back, maybe? I’m a pretty good runner so I figured I’d just wear ‘em out, but they weren’t, you know, stopping, so I figured it would be a good idea to head for the train station, ‘cause I thought there’d be people there, you know? But there weren’t, and they were still after me, so I figured I could just, you know, jump and clear it in time and they wouldn’t follow me, but – but…”

“Are you injured?” asked the perky cop, giving me a proper once over first as a cop and then with a less professional interest.

“Nah, just scruffy,” I said, trying to sound disarming and in reality just annoyed. Did these cops have nothing better to do? If they questioned hard enough they were going to realize I had no ID and was alive when I had been presumed dead for five years. Sometimes I wished my blood worked on humans. “It’s kind of, uh, a long story, actually. My boyfriend’s kind of a tool.” Bad boyfriend stories worked to turn off most people, but perky cop actually got perkier.

“Maybe you should come down to the station with us. I don’t want you to…” He trailed off as a car pulled up just beyond the cop car. It practically purred to a stop, and even in the darkness I could recognize a Lamborghini. My heart sank. There were only two people I could think of who would come looking for me in the middle of nowhere in a car like that, and I didn’t want to see either of them.

But it wasn’t Santo or Benedict who got out. I didn’t recognize the man at all, although he smiled at the sight of me like an old friend. “There you are!” he said with obvious relief. “Ben told me about the fight, so I figured I’d come over. What’s going on? You look terrible. Were you mugged?” He got to me and gave me a hug before I could back away. I could feel the heat of him even through my shirt. “My name’s Romeon,” he whispered in my ear with his arms around me. “You and I have a lot to talk about.”

“Uh, no,” I said, answering the question he had asked before while I tried to catch up to the latest insane event in my life. “Well, kind of. These guys chased me, but, uh, they got hit by a train.” Romeon had been the other person Benedict had mentioned, the one who would consider attacking Santo “a challenge.” I knew squat about this guy, but that was a pretty good recommendation. There were still way too many unknowns for comfort, like what he was and how he had found me and how he even knew who I was, but I had to start somewhere.

“That’s awful,” Romeon soothed, before turning to the police. “Listen, officers, is there any way my friend could talk to you later? I think he’s still a little shell-shocked. He’ll be staying with me.” He gave them a fake name and an address, and I took the moment of reprieve to make up my mind. My options were leaving with the police, leaving with Romeon, or leaving on my own to head for Sleepwalk. The police would keep asking questions and Charles was still all the way uptown. Romeon was right here, and for everything I didn’t know about him odds seemed good that he was a weapon that could hurt Santo. I just needed to figure out how to use him.

The police gave me a few more stupid platitudes and then zoomed off. I was left with Romeon under the streetlight. We regarded each other silently. He was about my height, with hair as black as mine and cropped short. His refined features didn’t fill me with the same sense of wrongness that Santo’s had. His smile earlier had proved he wasn’t a vamp. Was he human?

“You look like you’ve had a long night,” Romeon offered eventually. Now that he wasn’t acting for the police or whispering, his voice was elegant and almost musical.

I rubbed the scruff on my face. “You have no idea.”

He smirked. “I can guess.” He offered his hand. “Romeon Karnakae.”

After a minute I took it. “Bello Armitage.” His handshake was firm, and his hand was as hot as his hug had been.

He gestured to his silver beast of a ride. “My apartment is across the park. Shall we?”

I eyed his car. I was ready to give Romeon a chance, but my mother didn’t raise no fool.

Romeon smiled at my obvious balking. “I suppose I shouldn’t have expected it to be that easy, but we don’t have much time. Word’s out that you’ve escaped, and it’s only a matter of time before Santo figures out where you went. My apartment will be much safer, trust me.”

“Why would I?”

His smile turned into a chuckle at that. “You must piss Santo off something awful with cheek like that. I like it. Tell you what, would a Lamborghini work for a trust pledge?” He held out the keys.

It was the best offer I’d had from anyone in a long time. I still didn’t trust Romeon as far as I could throw him, but for the first time that night, things had the chance to work out. If I could get somewhere safe, and talk to someone who knew what was going on, I could beat this.

I would beat this.

I grabbed the keys and got in. Sitting in the driver’s seat felt fantastic. Romeon got in next to me, and we sped off into the night.