TWENTY-THREE
Likewise, some vampiric abilities we can regard as
mere myth. Cade has not proven capable of changing into a bat, or
fog, or a wolf. These stories no doubt rose from accounts of
vampires’ actual speed and strength, which are impressive enough.
But we can safely say that for all the power Cade has displayed,
vampires cannot fly, or change shape.
—BRIEFING BOOK: CODENAME: NIGHTMARE PET
Tania wanted to hit Cade in the back of the
head as he walked away. She didn’t know why she bothered. It was
like spraying graffiti on a wall and expecting the wall to learn
English.
She’d even had herself shipped FedEx for him. In a
crate. She hated to do that.
Tania didn’t know how Cade could stand at the edge
of a never-ending feast, a buffet that stretched for eternity, and
not join in. She didn’t know what he had inside him that replaced
the need.
And when she was honest with herself, she really
didn’t care.
She turned and walked in the opposite direction,
headed west on Wilshire.
She checked her watch. It was auto-synched with
sunset and sunrise in every time zone she entered, and beeped a
series of alarms as they approached. It cost about as much as a
used car.
Well. If Cade wouldn’t do what was necessary, she
would. She had plenty of time, if she didn’t bother with
traffic.
Fortunately, this part of the city had tall
buildings. Not skyscrapers, really—but tall enough.
She slid into a crowd clotted around the entrance
to the Wiltern Theatre, waiting impatiently for the doors to open,
some band she’d never heard of. She made a mental note to check
them on iTunes.
She took a brief, heady sniff of the crowd
scents—the hair gel, the perfumes, the slightly sexual
anticipation, and the blood underneath. She didn’t have time to
pull any sheep from the flock, but she still liked the aroma.
She cut ahead of one young man, gym-muscled,
dressed in expensive rags, stinking of creatine and protein
supplements and Polo by Ralph Lauren. He was about to protest, but
she gave him a smile, and the fight went out of him.
She slid on by, her hand brushing his chest, and
then followed the building around to the alley. Behind her, she
heard the young man’s girlfriend say, “Hey!” and punch
him—hard.
She grinned. Then stifled it. Maybe Cade’s remark
about her age bothered her more than she wanted to admit.
She shook it off as she found the fire escape in
the alley. Rust-eaten ironwork, only used for smoke breaks by
people in the offices above the Wiltern. But it would do.
She hopped up, and was at the second story. Another
leap, and she swung forward easily onto the roof.
She took a moment to orient herself, laying the map
in her head, memorized with a glance earlier that night, over the
real-life grid of the city lights.
There. Her destination was that way.
She stilled herself, prepared for the shift.
It would have been easier if she had eaten. But
then, she would have missed Cade entirely.
She wondered, not for the first time, why she
remained so attached to him.
She remembered feeling something for him. Fierce
and hot and bright, like the sun.
But like the sun, she couldn’t see it
anymore.
It was the memory of the feeling that kept her
coming back. She wasn’t sure she would like it if she forgot that
sensation.
Plus, over a century old, and Cade was still sexy
as hell. That helped a lot.
She slipped out of her dress, wearing nothing
underneath.
She folded the dress into a neat square, then
slipped the dress and her shoes into her bag. She slung the strap
of the purse around her neck.
For a moment, she just savored the cool night air
on her bare skin. She imagined someone in the nearby buildings, a
guy working late maybe, glancing out of his window, unable to
believe his eyes when he saw her.
She tilted her head back, ran her hands over her
neck, her breasts, her flat stomach. Imagined her watcher watching
this, getting excited. Hoping she would touch herself some
more.
Then she grinned. This ought to wither his
erection.
And she started to change.
She shoved all thought out of her mind. Pushed her
mass to her center. Lengthened her tendons, stretching herself,
feeling joints pop into new positions. Sucked marrow from the
inside of her bones, stored it elsewhere.
Distantly, she heard the cracking noises as her
skeleton set into its new position. She reached inside herself, as
if withdrawing arms inside her sleeves, and pushed outward, pulling
the skin away from her ribs, forming a great wing of flesh on each
side.
Then she stopped thinking rationally, as her skull
flattened at the cranial sutures, giving her a more aerodynamic
profile.
She would operate mainly on instinct now, heading
toward her destination, which shone in her mind like light through
a keyhole in a dark closet.
She stepped off the roof. The wind rising off the
street caught her, and she began gliding across the night
sky.