But they called The Crimson Post a daily newspaper for a reason, and Jill was going to get her story. Now, as daylight crept in, she was finding out what she could.

The city looked like it had just won a major sports championship. Except this wasn't a game. There even looked to be a couple of bodies along with the trash littering the city, but she didn't go over to check, there was an even bigger story to be had.

No, it wasn't like it had been in the old days. Back when she was in college, only starting to come out at night. Then it had been more peaceful-or at least as peaceful as Crimson City got.

Of course, it also wasn't as bad yet as they'd described the old no-holds-barred battle between the species. But things were headed in that direction. If somebody didn't do something soon, they were all going to end up dead.

Rounding a corner, she was surprised when she felt a lurking presence. She whirled around, but there was n.o.body there. Swallowing hard to control her emotions, Jill changed the lens on her camera to one with better contrast between light and dark. The world was all the same color right now-a soupy, hazy gray.

She wasn't provoking anyone. Her first thought had been werewolf, but the dogs were still lying low as the humans and fangs circled each other. That left vampire, mech or... something else. It wasn't inconceivable that someone would want a newspaper reporter dead. Happened all the time. But Jill wasn't investigating anything-or anyone-in particular. She wasn't uncovering a drug ring or trailing a murderer. She was just reporting on Crimson City.

"h.e.l.lo?" Oh, for G.o.d's sake, Jill. Grow some b.a.l.l.s. "Who's there?" she called more authoritatively. She swung around, frightening herself more by imagining sounds and shapes in the nooks and crannies of the alley.

Moistening her lips, she lifted her camera to her face and took a few shots. But the p.r.i.c.kly feeling on her neck wouldn't go away. She put the lens cap back on and started walking. And then she knew. She just knew. A smile crept over her face as she stopped in her tracks. "Why are you following me? Every time I turn around lately, it's you. But you never stay and talk to me."

"I felt you needed something. I sensed you were unhappy."

She turned to face him, and the breath was nearly knocked out of her by the sight of what she'd come to think of as her own personal vampire. He was standing in the shadow of an overhang. Resplendent in a tuxedo, he seemed entirely perfect except for the worried look on his face and his white bow tie, which lay undone against his lapels.

"Dressed to kill," she murmured, then c.o.c.ked her head. "So, is that how it works-I call and you come?"

He chuckled. "Something like that."

"Do I know you?"

The vamp studied her face but didn't answer her question. "It's not safe out here."

Jillian started to laugh. It felt good to release the nervous energy. "You're a fang. I'm supposed to believe having you follow me around the city is safe?"

The corner of his mouth twisted in a slight smile. "I think you should go home."

She lifted an eyebrow. "The sun's almost up. Maybe you should go home." Her fingers itched to take a picture of him. She'd hardly had an opportunity to really look, but there was no question he'd photograph well. Jet-black hair and blue eyes, strong features and an even stronger body. That was clear enough from the perfect lines of his tailored clothing.

Jill giggled at the thought, then suddenly remembered Cydney Brighton's blood spattered over shattered gla.s.s and nearly burst into tears. She suddenly realized how tired she was, and how vulnerable, standing here in a deserted street with somebody she didn't know and couldn't trust.

As if he'd read her mind, the vampire leaned back against the building, his face fading even further into shadow. "I'm never going to hurt you. You don't need to be afraid when I come to you."

Why do you come to me? she wanted to ask, but couldn't quite find the nerve. Exhaling to calm herself, she finally said, "This city has become a very difficult place. I find myself understanding fewer things every day.

"Why are you sad?" he asked.

Jill looked up in surprise. "I lost somebody recently."

"Dain Reston's partner."

She nodded. "Her name was Cydney Brighton. I'd known her forever. She gave me scoops. We weren't super close, but she... she was still my friend."

"I'm sorry."

She suddenly felt stupid, asking for sympathy from a vamp. She gave a shrug and said, "But I'm okay, you know. So... you can go." He just watched her for a moment, running his thumb absently across his lower lip in a movement so un-self-consciously sensual it made Jill's knees a little weak. "You're okay," he echoed and took a step backwards.

"Wait!"

He stilled, and Jill walked around behind him, standing on her tiptoes to put her hands around his neck to tie his bow tie. She let her fingers graze his skin, somehow unafraid to touch him. Closing her eyes, her mouth just a breath away from the back of his neck, she felt oddly like she was somehow being sucked underwater-and that he was the one doing it.

Coming to her senses, she stepped back, quickly finished the bow tie, then walked around to his front. "There," she said.

He was just staring at her, one hand on his tie and an odd look on his face.

"Why do you care?" she asked. "I mean, about me? For that matter, who are you?"

His eyes searched her face. "My name is Marius Dumont," he said, backing further down the alley. "And I shouldn't care."

Jill hovered on the edge of pursuit, staring at him in bewilderment. "But, why? h.e.l.lo?"

She glanced back over her shoulder, up into the coming dawn, then took a tentative step after him. But he was gone. Where before she'd felt a strange warmth around her, now there was only cold.

"Marius," Jill whispered, just to test the name on her lips. "Marius. Why me?"

Chapter Twenty-three.

Fleur had to laugh as her cousin came flying onto the balcony of the c.o.c.ktail lounge alongside her; they were both ridiculously late, though Marius had wisely dressed for a.s.sembly before going out. She, on the other hand, had gone out dressed in battle gear to ask around about Hayden. Not only had she come back without the information she sought, but by her own standards, she was hardly dressed appropriately.

Fleur was actually rather glad to have Marius alone-at least, as alone as one could be in the middle of an enormous club room filled with people. He sat at their reserved table, rather gloomily nursing his customary drink while Ian and Warrick visited other tables.

Dodging a server speeding by with a silver platter laden with strawberries, Fleur deftly plucked one off the top as he pa.s.sed and settled into the chair next to Marius. Without a word, her cousin handed her his c.o.c.ktail napkin to discard the stem. "Delicious," she said after eating the fruit.

The club room was packed tonight. And the clink of champagne gla.s.ses and merry peals of laughter couldn't disguise the current of tension running through it. The reason, of course, was the curfew and sirens and other policies established by the humans. Fleur could feel the constant stares and whispers, and every once in a while, she'd look up and catch someone's eye. The looks were friendly enough. Nods and waves. People she knew, various friends and acquaintances-they were all wondering what she would do, what action she would propose. They were looking for signs of weakness; they were looking to see if they wanted to keep her as head of the a.s.sembly.

Marius pierced her with a look. "Dain Reston was here last night," he said.

Fleur choked a bit on a swallow of champagne and looked around nervously. "Cut to the chase, why don't you."

"What do you plan to do about him?" Marius asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard."

Fleur stared right back at her cousin. "It's none of your business," she said rather stonily.

"I realize that your personal life is none of my business-except for the fact that everything you do is by default my business. But what I want to say to you is not to do anything you'll regret. Do not take without him asking. And when he asks, do not take him then, either."

"What did you hear? I was only playing," Fleur said through gritted teeth.

Marius gave her a surprised look, like he didn't know what she was talking about. Then, to her chagrin, Fleur realized that if her cousin hadn't known before, he knew now. "What did you do to him?" he asked.

"I sort of... nipped at his throat. I don't feel like discussing it." She sighed as Marius laughed. "I'm so glad it amuses you."

"Reston probably hasn't been that scared in years," Marius said.

"It hurts. It really b.l.o.o.d.y hurts," Fleur said, finding herself oddly close to tears.

Marius ran his index finger around his gla.s.s. "Are you in love with him?"

"I was just playing. I mean, I was playing at first, and then I suppose it was just suddenly... We were... Oh, d.a.m.n." Fleur stared blankly out into the night, not wanting to answer. Such a point-blank question, but Marius was like that. And she could tell him the truth because she knew he understood. "Look, I suppose I didn't want to just play anymore. I wanted everything. Somewhere inside, I knew what I was doing when I bit him. Which is the worst everybody thinks of me. I know they think I lack control, discipline, training. I know everybody still doubts me. You doubt me. But I believe that I would have stopped myself even if he hadn't stopped me." She blinked rapidly, refusing to cry. "Of course, he saw what I wanted. I could see it in his eyes. I don't know what he thinks of me now."

She turned back to Marius, choosing not to tell him about looking for Hayden, because she knew what he would say. That she wanted the vampire she'd made against all code to give her hope about Dain-that wasn't the only reason she wanted to find him, but it would be enough to set her cousin off.

"I know how you feel," he said, reaching out and clasping her hand. "I know how you feel."

"Ah, our lovely Fleur," Paulina said, interrupting their talk, sashaying up with Warrick and Ian hooked on either side of her. Warrick pulled out a chair for her, but Paulina chose Ian's lap after he'd settled into his own chair.

"Paulie," Fleur said, truly delighted. She and her friend hadn't gotten together in ages; they used to be inseparable.

"What a pleasure to see you." Paulina's vivid red hair, heavily made-up green eyes, and exquisite sky-blue satin evening gown embroidered with b.u.t.terflies was a dramatic contrast to Fleur's own garb. Paulina snuggled closer into Ian, who didn't look the least bit unhappy. "Fleur, you never come out to play anymore! The girls miss you. But of course we understand. Though you missed a fantastic rampage through Louis Vuitton last week. Such a crush. Oh, my G.o.d, how we spent! It was practically an orgy."

Fleur had to admit she rather missed the days when her biggest concern was making sure n.o.body wore the same dress on the same night. Of course, she'd not appreciated her situation then. There was a certain freedom when nothing much mattered. Now everything mattered so very much.

Paulina reached out and ran her hand down the side of Warrick's face. "You boys are turning our Fleur into a positive savage! We've been hearing all about it." She looked at Fleur and made a face. "Of course, we've managed to exaggerate everything to the point where you're killing ten humans a day and sucking them dry for breakfast. At least tell me you're happy, darling. We're wondering if we must kidnap you back and take you to high tea at the Bel Air Hotel just to reindoctrinate you."

Fleur laughed. "Have I changed so much?"

Paulina made a show of looking her over. "Are you joking? Darling, you're horrifying." She sounded delighted. She leaned over, strategically revealing her more-than-ample a.s.sets to Marius and Warrick, then said in a loud whisper, as if the lot of them were coconspirators, "They say Fleur is gallivanting about the city with a certain very s.e.xy human, and he's bringing out the very bad girl in her."

Warrick snorted loudly.

Paulina looked at him and uttered in faux horror, "Shocking, isn't it? I mean, look at her. When the rest of us fall in love, we dress up for it. Even her hair is down."

Fleur was annoyed to find herself blushing. "It would seem that without you, I've completely lost my style compa.s.s."

"That's an understatement. In all the years I've known you, you've never once come to the clubroom dressed like a... like a... Warrior! I don't even know what you've got hanging on and strapped to you, but I'm sure you could kill me in at least three different ways if I were human." She jumped up from her chair. "Darlings, I must go. And I'm sure you're busy saving us all. Fleur, honestly, though, the girls admire you so-at least the gallivanting with that human. A wild streak is always so attrac-tive." She ran her palm down Ian's inner thigh and kissed him on the neck. "It's been ages. I miss you. Stop by anytime. Ta!"

Suddenly self-conscious, Fleur looked at Ian. "I don't look that bad, do I?"

He quirked an eyebrow. "You look fine. You look like you've been putting in some hard work, which you have. Frankly, I think this getup will give you added credibility tonight in front of the a.s.sembly."

"Speaking of which," Marius commented, swirling the ice in his drink. "What do you plan to say, Fleur? What's your message to the a.s.sembly?"

Warrick downed his drink and signaled for another. "How about we kick some serious human a.s.s? We've been holding back longer than should have been expected."

"I want to make sure that if we go to war, we're attacking the right people." Fleur stared at the ice cubes in her drink. "Rashness is what everyone expects, and vengeance is what everyone wants, but we need to be smart about this. We need to figure out exactly what's going on. In the meantime, the trick is going to be to kill the message, not the messenger. Meaning that the humans are trying to take away our freedoms-but rather than killing humans, we should work on dismantling their structures and implementations. The idea is to maintain our rights and protect ourselves. That's all we'll do. Keep what is rightfully ours."

The Protectors were silent for a moment, then Ian leaned forward. "Fleur, you really don't think the humans are behind the a.s.sa.s.sinations. Do you?"

She looked him straight in the eye. "No, I don't. I think that's what we're meant to think."

Marius nodded. "Fair enough. But if we send out strike teams to tell the humans where to shove their regulations, it's going to devolve into a free-for-all. There's going to be killing everywhere, and on a scale much larger than what we've been seeing lately. We'll be right back where we were before the truce. Hmm. Perhaps that's what the group behind the a.s.sa.s.sinations had in mind in the first place."

"The rogue vampires?" Warrick suggested hopefully. "They might be behind it. And they could use a little att.i.tude adjustment." He was obviously itching for a fight.

"They're my best guess. I'm looking into it." She looked down at her gla.s.s and decided to tell her cousins the truth. "I've been trying to get into contact with Hayden."

"What?" Marius asked.

"I have to know if this is personal. Maybe revenge."

"Is that all?" Marius asked, keeping his face blank.

"More or less," Fleur answered. Quickly changing the subject, she added, "That leaves the dogs. They're entirely a wild card. We're being positioned to fight a war on two fronts. We were attacked, and now all fingers are pointing in our direction. The humans are giving us trouble, the rogues are giving us trouble... but the dogs are so quiet I can't help wonder what's going on with them. Especially after-"

The bell chimed for dinner. Fleur stood up and faced her cousins. "So, my message to the a.s.sembly is this: "Someone is driving the recent chaos in Crimson City, and they seek to pin the responsibility on us. In the short term, we must quash any and all policies that seek to undermine our freedoms, and in the long term we must begin preparing for the possibility of a second war between the species."

She looked at Ian, Warrick, then Marius. "Well? Does that work for you? Do you disagree? It should quell the warmongers and lay out our best hope for the future."

After a pause, Marius nodded and offered her his arm. "Dinner?" he said with a smile.

"That's our little girl," Ian added to Warrick, his hand clutching his heart melodramatically. "Look at her now."

Fleur looked between her three cousins and broke out into a huge laugh. She could tell by their faces that they truly approved. They believed she was ready to stand on her own; they'd given her leadership their blessing. They were truly just her council, now, and nothing more. Fleur took Marius's arm and let him lead her to the dining hall, where they took their seats.

The long narrow headtable ran down the center of the room, next to a series of individual rounds. The candles were all lit; the servants began to serve, and Fleur began to slip back into the simplicity of her former life, when all that was required of her was witty repartee and the occasional well-placed compliment. But things had changed, and constant vigilance had become second nature: She noticed the charge in the air only a few moments after her cousins, who stopped eating, their cutlery frozen midair. The others in the hall eventually noticed too, the festive overlap of their conversations unraveling and dropping off one by one until there was nothing but silence.

Their world held a measure of inherent protection by virtue of their distance from the ground, but her people's defenses were by no means fail-safe-as was proven by her brothers' murders. Fleur moved her chair back from the table, the sound of its legs sc.r.a.ping against the floor. Her own shallow breathing seemed immeasurably loud.

It didn't escape her notice that everyone was waiting, watching to see what she would do. The tension in her body was immense, but it wasn't the tension she'd felt while interacting with that werewolf, and she felt certain it wasn't a human she sensed. What worried her was the possibility of being beseiged by mechs, who were quite possibly the most dangerous thing she'd ever seen. Would she even sense them coming?

The a.s.sembly dining hall was an enormous s.p.a.ce, but it was packed with the tables and chairs that made everything seem so festive and familial; there was a certain claustrophobia, and a lack of s.p.a.ce in which to move and defend. Fitting a ball gown between the tightly s.p.a.ced chairs had once been the prime complaint; it was hardly a concern anymore. With guards on the floors below and above, the room's true weakness was an a.s.sault from the sides. And without the sound of any airborne machinery, Fleur realized her sense of dread could come from only one thing.

She slowly drew her weapons and looked around. One breath, one exhale. She looked over her shoulder at the window on the far wall. One breath, one exhale. She looked over her shoulder at the window on the far wall. One breath, one exhale. Fleur looked to the right. Nothing. One breath, one exhale. To the left. Clear sky through gla.s.s. One breath, one exhale. Then she brought her head up and stared past the rows of tables to the window beyond.

Raising both hands, with a flick of her wrists she loaded ammunition into her pistols. Silence reigned, then all four windows shattered. Gla.s.s exploded with tremendous force into the room, which erupted into chaos. The a.s.sembly followed protocol; those trained to defend going for armament, those not part of the defense seeking cover in a swirl of color.

Fleur stood her ground as four shadowy figures appeared, each flying through a frame of one of the four shattered windows, coat swirling behind him. Each moved in a picture-perfect, calculated swagger.

The rogue vampires.

Feathers and finery waved fiercely in the wind that blew in from outside. At the end of the a.s.sembly room, Paulina shivered. Ian covered her bare shoulders with her wrap.

The rogues landed along the periphery of the chamber, gla.s.s shards raining from their clothing and sprinkling the floor. Compared to the primaries, these vampires embraced a look that spoke of roughness and rebellion. Their clothing incorporated elements of street style found down on the human and werewolf levels. And while there was little similarity amongst them in dress, they had one thing in common: the notion that anything goes. Which described their nature as well.