Lore vs. The Summoning (35 page)

Read on for a preview of Lore book 2
 

Lore vs. The Demon

The last thing I expected to see when I turned up at the Dungeon at twenty past six was an emofied vampire chained to the grungy facade. By the nasty marks on his wrists, ankles, and neck I gathered the thick chain embedded in his reddened flesh was made of silver. And whoever had trussed up the vampire knew what they were doing because in addition to the restraints, they'd nearly drained the creature to death through several holes that had yet to heal. This guy wasn't going any place without an infusion of blood.
 

Well, I sure as hell wasn't going to be the donor.

I stood staring at the slumped vampire, contemplating what to do apart from open up a vein. The sky was already the blue-gray color that heralded the sun would soon be making its ascent. If I didn't get him inside in the next handful of minutes he would die the final death the immortal feared so very much. But after my night from hell I didn't have a whole lot of compassion for the circulation challenged.

Chances were this guy had done something to deserve the fate that had been thrust upon him. Would it really be a bad thing if I turned around and walked away? I inhaled a long breath through my nose while considering that question.

"Damn it," I cursed aloud. It had been said for the benefit of my stupid conscience. Why couldn't I be as heartless and badass as I pretended I was?

I walked forward with the intention of finding a way to free the guy until I was distracted by a curious glint between the folds of his black silk shirt. Carefully I parted the blood-soaked fabric to get a look at what it hid. My eyebrows shot upward. Someone had nailed a sheet of metal to the vampire's chest. No, someone had
spiked
the sheet onto his chest using a silver railroad spike, perhaps by way of his heart.

I wasn't certain I should disturb a wound this serious. The vampire wasn't dead. Yet. But if I moved the spike in the wrong direction that could very well change.

Bending at the knees brought my head level with the metal sheet for a better look. There appeared to be words etched onto the metal's sleek surface. Using my cell phone's screen to brighten the area, I read the three lines four times before moving into action.

It took me ten minutes to fight the crush of bodies on the Dungeon's dull black dance floor to reach J at his security post near the club's iconic iron maiden. I didn't know what kind of creature J was but I thought he was probably stronger than I was. He would have to be in order to be able to hold his own against the myriad creatures that frequented Boston's only neutral Underground club.
 

I waved for him to follow me. The only indication that the guy recognized me was a slight lift of his bushy eyebrows. Maybe that was a typical surprised expression for him.

The crowd parted easily for the beefy head of security leading the way back up to the surface. I shuffled at his heels with my face hidden behind the curtain of my sable hair. If I could manage it I was going to keep my identity a secret for as long as possible.
 

With J at the helm no one dared to stop us on the way out. He had the chains off the vampire faster than I could follow and was carrying him in the entrance seconds later. Down the four flights of stairs I followed the crew cut covered head until we stood inside the sitting room of the former owner's private apartment.

The security boss carefully set the vampire on one of the three brocade couches available. Then he drew back to survey the damage. The exact moment his eyes caught sight of the note pounded into the vampire's chest was signaled by the true lifting of his eyebrows. I shoved a finger into my mouth for a good gnaw on my nail when he bent to read it aloud.

"'Let this be a warning to all those of impure creation. Your days are numbered. The world will be cleansed.'"