Halfway Bitten (16 page)

With Gran’s presence woven through my magic, it was little effort to open the door and let my spell burst into silent radiance throughout the tent. Unseen by the crowd, I became a nucleus. I was a focus, a gem, an origin, and I was all of those things at once in a split second of divine energy that lashed out to detect the beings hidden among the good families packed into the stands around the ring.

In the swirl of gloom, my eyes flickered like a guttering candle to settle on a—no, on
two
glowing shapes that floated like disembodied sigils among the crowd. A flash of motion near the main entrance drew my eye to a third glyph that pulsed in cool blue and green. In a second, the bearer of my spell vanished into the night, but the original two remained where I had first seen them.

“Two, Gran.” I was up and moving before the ringmaster could say another word, but I felt his eyes on me as I leapt from the edge of our bleacher to land with a muffled grunt. His gaze turned unerringly toward me even as his voice continued on in a silken shout, unbroken and slick. “Too bad, creep,” I muttered over my shoulder as I moved into a low, dodging sprint, although everything I do is low. Okay, since I was at a half crouch, I was more or less at the level of a kid, but with my adrenaline pumping I covered the semi-circle in seconds, despite my short legs.

I could
feel
the vampires as I crept behind their section of bleachers, and, to my shock, they just sat there. I stopped directly left of their row some twenty feet away, level with the pair whose eyes were diverted from noticing me. For now. I’m not used to magical beings behaving as if they aren’t in the grip of a paranoid dream, so curiosity began to tickle my senses at their lack of activity. With charms at the ready and a spell on my tongue like a vicious rumor, I crouched, unseen in the darkness between sections of bleacher, but they were too busy watching the ringmaster. That was interesting in and of itself. Vampires are often so old that their primary enemy is boredom. To pay attention to humans was somehow beneath them, but they watched the show with rapt attention. If there was any lingering doubt as to the nature of this circus, it sublimated there and then.

I squinted to see them with any clarity, and the first glimpse was revealing. There was one male, one female, and they had once been young, but their vampirism was well advanced to my trained eye. Dressed like tourists, the girl was a blonde, with alabaster skin and fine hair that curled about her like a living halo. Her lips were a small red bow under a thin nose. She might have been Russian when alive, and even with the angular effects of being undead, she was beautiful in the manner of a serpent. I watched as she smoothed her hair with long, pale fingers. In another life, she might’ve been a scribe or a musician, but now I knew all of that malignant beauty was designed for seduction and death.

I knew she’d killed many. I could feel it. When she smiled, her teeth were even and white, the fangs hidden by the plump upper lip that curled up as she began to survey the crowd. What was she looking for? Her eyes flickered across the faces illuminated by the erratic, wobbling spotlights. I was
really
tired of those stupid lights, and if it wouldn’t cause people to stampede in fear, I would’ve popped them all with a single word. I let discretion win out over my irritation, and the lights continued their relentless, spasmodic sweeping of the crowd.

The biggest spotlight landed on Gran, lingered for a moment, then moved on, and I heard both vampires utter words of satisfaction in some unknown dialect. The male leaned forward in his seat as his hands began to flutter with excitement. He was average height, thin—aren’t they all, they’ve been on a permanent juice cleanse for who knew how long—and dark. Everything about him was dark. Eyes, hair, clothes, but of course his skin was that nerdy shade of pale you can only get from living inside for . . . well, forever. He didn’t point in Gran’s direction, but his body was rigid with attention.

I knew that Gran was in no great danger, but the chance to pluck any information at all overpowered my initial desire to unleash a ray of sun into both of the bloodsuckers. How
dare
they even look in her direction? My anger began to boil, and I felt the delicious fingers of rage whisper up my neck to set my cheeks aflame. Unlike most witches who practice caution, I throw care to the wind when it comes to my family. Anyone would feel that way; the difference with me is that I have centuries of magical energy at my disposal, and I’m not afraid to cut it loose. My charms flashed hot and cold in waves of reflexive emotion, and I had to forcibly bite my tongue to keep a spell from popping off like a relative who’s had too much wine at Christmas.

It was touch and go, believe me. In my anger, I failed to note that the music announcing the show’s end had come and gone. I had seconds at most before people began filing out, the ringmaster had vanished, and the vamps stood, glared at each other, and began departing in different directions. The woman came in my direction and her lips were moving in what was
certainly
dirty words in some language. She was unhappy, and her pretty features were contorted in the kind of face that means someone is about to get hurt. That was interesting, because I’d assumed they were a couple, or at the very least pair-bonded out of duty to some clan.

When she reached the end of the bleachers, the vampire stepped off. She didn’t leap, or jump, or brace herself, she simply took a short step, fell, and landed with the impact of a feather. When her feet hit the sawdust, she grimaced, brushed at her dark pants, and began to turn away. Lips parted in hunger, she began to size up the crowd, and I knew it was too late to stop the male from feeding. Vampires fed nightly unless they were young or wounded; a fact that led to tracking them easily. I didn’t like knowing that they found a victim every night, but in a grim sense it made my job easier. I simply had to listen for screams, or look for the signs.

But the vampire in front of me? I was about to ruin her night.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

At my words, she froze in place, then turned to face me with a quizzical half-smile on her lips. Vampires are notorious for being easy to read; they have two effective settings—hungry and sneaky—and the angular beauty of their faces always reflect one or the other. In this case, unknown female vampire number one was hungry, which in turn meant that she was ready to turn on the charm at the drop of a collar. In the darkness between the bleachers, I looked like a perfect snack.

A silky look swept over the pale oval of her face, which was hovering in the dark with near luminous beauty. Her eyes were dark chips that glinted with a feral hunger. She was still in that creepy stance that vampires adopt when they’re sizing you up for a bite; it set my teeth on edge that she regarded me in that manner but, after all, I’d baited her into doing it. Her fangs drew downward as she pulled at one lip with her long, mobile fingers in a playful imitation of flirtation. Nothing about her was real, I knew, but I had to give her credit. Without saying a word, she’d told me a story of lust and desire that confirmed I was in the right place at the right time.

As for her, well, the next few seconds would determine how long she lived.

“Yesss, dear?” she trilled, low and coy. Her lips pursed into something between opportunity and invitation. That’s the problem with vamps; they don’t see anyone as a threat. I detest that kind of arrogance in everyone except quarterbacks and lead guitarists.

I held up my arm, charms jingling in happy metallic notes. “Quite a show we’ve just seen, won’t you say?”

She laughed at me, a hint of antiquity in her breathy rasp. “If you say so. I doubt you’ll feel this way later, but for now, enjoy what you’ve seen.” There was triumph in her voice. I know when I’m being left out of a joke. I don’t like it.

I took a step toward her. That gave her pause, but then her eyes went wide when she sensed my nature. Let me just say that being sniffed by anything other than a pet is just weird, especially if the sniffer is deciding whether you’re good enough to eat. Watching her nose twitch like a hamster made me queasy, but I covered the feeling with a question.

“You’ve mistaken me for a human. Let’s start with something simple. Why are you here?” I held my hand casually before me, and yes, I had two spells ready. One can never be underprepared.

There was a short pause, before she blinked, cleared her eyes, then blinked again. She was using some sort of racial sight on me, and it wasn’t working. Score one for my family magic.

“I’m a witch,” I offered, by way of moving things along. “And you are, of course, a vampire. My boyfriend’s a half vampire, so you’re getting the benefit of the doubt right now, and by that I mean you aren’t ashes.”

When she raised her blonde brow at me, I explained, “You know. Toast. Kablooie. Finito.” I made an explosive gesture with my hands, setting my charms jingling. Her eyes cut at the silver shapes, then came back to rest on my face. I had her attention.

Lights began to come on in the tent, so I asked again, with more force, “The things I need to know. Who. Why. What. Stuff like that. You should start talking now.” I cocked a hip and prepared to wait up to ten seconds before I got an answer.

She was going to run, and I felt her body tense just before Gran’s voice rang out from behind her. “I think you’ll want to chat, dear. My granddaughter has been rather polite . . . for the moment.”

The vamp twitched once, then set her feet without turning. Her head swayed as she decided who the bigger threat was, then settled again on me since Gran was an unknown. It was the smart move, given that any movement might be construed as aggression, and the math of two witches and one vampire was in our favor by a large margin. I smiled disarmingly, but said nothing to disabuse our visitor of my potentially-violent nature.

“Collette,” she ground out. The name was uttered as a curse, and there were high spots of color on her cheeks. So, vampires
could
flush with anger. Good to know.

“And where are you from, Collette?” I asked, still polite.

She sagged a bit, but it was an act. Vampires don’t admit defeat. They negotiate, trick, or cheat. It’s in their nature. Still, she spoke. “Originally, or now?”

“How about both?” I asked. My charms winked ominously in the lights, turning on one at a time to facilitate the crowd’s departure.

“As if you would understand—” Collette began, but Gran’s noise of derision interrupted her.

Gran stepped to within a pace of the vampire and pointed to her hand, which was held out, palm up. “I want you to look here, Collette, so that there can be no further misunderstandings.” Without waiting for an answer, Gran began to sketch in the air above her hand. In a series of elegant, loping motions, I watched her long fingers trace some unknown shape in the air. A filament of golden light trailed behind her fingertip and, in seconds, a fairly good, if cartoonish, sun with rays in a circle around it had taken form.

“I didn’t know you could draw, Gran.” I smiled, and she rewarded me with a narrow gaze.

“Don’t patronize me, Carlie. I know my limitations.” With a grin, she pursed her lips and blew at the sculpture of light, setting the sun and its accompanying rays adrift . . . toward Collette. The vampire sneered, but it was a nervous, defensive noise, and then the sun landed on her chest with a sizzle.

Collette’s gasp of pain was so vivid I felt tears spring to my own eyes before I could control my emotions. The stench was ungodly—somewhere between rotted meat and hot pavement—and Collette’s back arched in pain as she staggered and slumped to the ground without another word. Gran smiled beatifically at the creature, who had once been human, but now was only worthy of Gran’s most devious scorn.

Or so I thought.

With a tender gesture, Gran extended a hand to Collette, who quite naturally regarded her with open hostility and suspicion.

“I won’t use my magic again, unless you prove to be difficult. I don’t enjoy inflicting pain, as I can surmise that your whole existence is predicated upon finding a way to live with the unnatural horror of your own curse. Do you understand, Collette? I pity you, I don’t hate you. Now, answer my Carlie so that we may bring a close to this unpleasant discussion.” Gran pulled Collette upright and stepped back, folding her hands in a sign of peace.

It took a long moment for the vampire’s natural healing ability to remove any effects of Gran’s spell. I made a note to ask her about that bit of magic—it was damned impressive, and utterly new to me. Even in her eighth decade, she was teaching me that it was wrong to think I knew everything about her. I loved her even more for that.