Elle Jasper - Everdark

Luc grinned and answered. “London.”

“And . . . how long has Jake Andorra been dead?” I continued.

“About four hundred and sixty years,” Eli said with a laugh. “Good thing he’s not here.”

“Why?” I asked, pushing my shades up into my hair.

Eli stared at me for a moment, his grin widening. “He’d like you too much.”

I shook my head. Eli grabbed my bags and his from the backseat and rounded the Jeep; Luc did the same, as did the ever-silent Zetty. We walked toward the others. I glanced at Luc. “And does he drink V8’ like the Duprés, or—”

“Don’t ask,” Luc replied. I couldn’t tell by his expression what that meant exactly, so I dropped it.

Phin, Josie, and Seth, loaded down with backpacks, and Jack and Tuba, loaded down with . . . something, turned to us as we walked up.

“We’ll get our gear inside. Zetty, Jack, Tuba, and Josie will make the place safe while you and Seth learn the city,” Phin said. He stared at me. “Ready?”

“Have been,” I answered.

“Me, too,” Seth answered. He glanced at me and smiled. I can’t say I was happy at all to have my baby brother facing fight club vamps, not to mention be in the same city as the monster in my visions. All I can say is that his tendencies were smack-daddy kick-ass, and to have him backing me up made me feel a helluva lot better.

With a nod, Phin led the way into Jake Andorra’s mansion.

Inside, everything was spotless. Yet empty. Vaulted ceilings and an open plan made it look even emptier. Just at first glance, as Seth and I walked through to the second level, I noticed no photographs; very little home décor—a vase here, a plant there, probably fake—and everything squeaky clean. Yet empty. It was a fully stocked home with no personal touches. Upstairs, the rooms were massive. Phin led us past a mammoth library that I barely glimpsed. Then, into my room; our room, rather—mine and Eli’s.

“Home sweet home, Riley,” he said, then inclined his head to Seth. “Come on. Yours is across and down the hall.” Seth grinned and wagged his brows at me, adjusted both packs on his shoulders, and followed Phin out.

Any woman would just melt in a house like this. I glanced around, only slightly miffed that this was no vacay but instead, a vamp hunt. But day-yum, it should be. In another life, maybe. The room held an enormous king bed piled high with pillows and topped with a down comforter, fireplace, ceiling fan, and various pieces of antique furniture. A wicker love seat sat close to the white-painted French doors leading to the veranda outside the room. I dumped my stuff on the floor next to the bed. I wasn’t an indulger, but I couldn’t help opening the door and taking a step out. The air smelled like home, heavy and tinged with brine. I breathed it in and took in the view. Charleston Harbor was just across the way, and, in the distance, boats dotted the water. Nice. It was . . . nice. With a deep inhalation and slow exhalation, I resigned myself to doing what I did, being who I was.

“You like it?” Eli asked.

I nodded. “Definitely.”

“Ready, guys?” Seth asked from the door.

“Yeah, Bro,” I said. “We’re ready.”

After a quick trip to the bathroom, we headed downstairs and rounded the corner just in time to see Luc lift a small vial to his mouth. I sidled up next to him. “What’s that stuff?”

Luc grinned. “Preacher gave it to us. It masks our origins to other vampires and allows us to slip into their zone without being detected.” He slurped the last drop and set the vial on the counter. “Lasts for about three days,” he said. He handed Eli a vial.

“You have more, right?” I asked. Three days wasn’t a long time.

Phin walked up, Luc tossed him a vial, and he and Eli downed theirs in one sip. “Yes, we have more. Preacher gave us a decent supply.” He wiped his mouth and set his vial next to Luc’s. “And this is our second vial. Took the first one a few days ago. You two ready to learn the city?” He glanced at Seth and me.

I looked at my brother, who seemed overly eager. “Yep,” I answered, and we headed outside.

“I’m sitting this one out,” Eli said. “I have some things to get in order with Noah.” He kissed me, and the others made goofy noises. “See ya in a bit.”

“Okay,” I answered, and gave him a saucy smile.

Jack and Tuba had unloaded the bikes. I rode with Luc; Seth with Phin. Before Seth slung a leg over Phin’s bike seat, I stopped him with a quick pat-down. Seth’s green gaze, slightly humored, met mine.

“Yeah, I got my silver, Sis. Don’t worry so much,” he said, then kissed my nose, pushed my glasses down and in front of my eyes, and slid his shades on. Phin handed him a half helmet, despite the no-helmet law of South Carolina, and Seth snugged it in place.

My brother looked and acted way older than fifteen these days.

“Just checking,” I answered, then threw my leg over Luc’s bike seat. He turned, handed me my half helmet, and grinned. “Law or not, I’m not taking any chances with yours or your brother’s noggins.” He looked at me over his shades. “Ready?”

I pulled my helmet on. “Been.”

With a laugh, Luc jumped and kick-started the bike; Phin did the same, and we pulled down the driveway, past two tall palms, and onto the street.

For several hours after, we rode every street and alley of historic Charleston; from Market Street, to Church Street, past the white exterior of the French Huguenot Church, the unique salmon-colored Unitarian Church in Charleston with its square-topped steeple, up to Marion Square, and then down again. We learned King Street, Queen Street, Meeting Street, the open market, the historic district. The church district lent tall spires that stabbed the sky, and the French district had cafés and shops. That was all pretty easy to get the hang of. It reminded me a lot of Savannah, although we had more squares. Still, it was pretty easy to get, and simple to get the feel for. For a couple more hours, we rode; no alley, no side street next to a tourist shop, no restaurant, went unsearched. Late afternoon approached fast.

Then we rode out a ways, to the industrial part of the city, where the scenery wasn’t so picturesque. Compared to the clean-lined historic district, with its palms and white buildings and pristine parks, this part of the city had an underground, postapocalyptic feel to it. These streets and barred-windowed businesses were purposely kept out of the travel mags and tourist brochures. Everything looked . . . dirtier. Rather, forgotten. We pulled up to what appeared to be an old brick warehouse. In faded red letters against a gray metal sign, the words MALLORY’S FISH MARKET stretched in an arch. The moment Luc killed the motor, a single door opened and Noah Miles stepped out.

He looked dead at me.

“Know the city now, do you?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said, and glanced around. “Where’s Eli?” I asked.

“He left about an hour ago. Had to go make arrangements with Garr, Preacher’s cousin.”

Luc braced the weight of the bike with his legs, and I stayed on the bike. “So where’s the fight club?”

Noah rubbed his jaw and grinned. “Not anxious, are you? Already packin’ silver?”

“I’m ready to get this over with,” I answered. And dammit, I was.

He nodded, and the others we’d met at the Dupré House the night before filed out and stood behind Noah. Street tough and ready to fight as they were, one would have a hard time believing they were actually vampires. Jenna, no more than nineteen, was of medium build and had long blond dreads she wore pulled back, similar to Noah’s. Saul was Asian, early twenties, and had zero readable expression on his face. Cafrey and Tate, I’d learned, were brothers from Arkansas, both with buzzed hair with a sturdy, kick-ass build.