Shamira could see the cogs turning in Shane's head, figuring out how she could be useful to him.
"Listen, I guess I owe you thanks for . . . doing what you did. I guess I'm just not sure why you did it or what you expect of me?"
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a couple of the other residents arrive and be seated. She guessed it was close to dinner. "Hey . . . Uhm . . . dinner --"
Clara placed a hand on her young charge's arm. "Fledglings can eat normal food or consume blood. Feeding is an art, so Shane thought it would be wise to present you with a normal meal this evening. Personally, I prefer to drink blood, but I'll be dining on solid food today. Make you feel more at home."
"As for what I want from you and why I changed you --" Shane paused. "First, I owed you something for helping us out that night. I had agents in place that you couldn't have known about, but we had still found ourselves in an awkward predicament where innocents might have gotten hurt.
You showed great courage, and you saved the life of the girl who had been left chained to the wall. And while you were dying, Clara explained the kindness you showed her outside the club."
"She was part of your backup plan, wasn't she?"
Shane nodded. "She was to keep an eye and make sure that there weren't more of my adversary's men coming in. Compassion, loyalty, strength – these are things I could tell about you before you closed your eyes. And you must have great dedication and resilience to carve a physique such as yours.
So I took your blood and shared some of mine with you. Then you died, only to be reborn a day after being laid to rest. I got a copy of your personnel file, and I see potential in you.
Your aptitude scores are phenomenal, and the only reason you're not on SWAT or a detective is, I assume because you encountered a 'good old boy' network. Or they are complete idiots. I would not waste your talent, Shamira. I would waste nothing you had to offer."
Shamira was nervous about the way he said that and by the look in his eyes while saying it. Was he still just talking about her skill set?
"I would like for you to be one of my new enforcers," Shane told her. "You would be for me as you were in life. Only instead of enforcing mortal law, you would be enforcing Tribunal law."
"Why can't I just go back to being a cop?" she asked. Then she slapped her face. "Never mind. I'm dead."
"Indeed." Shane looked at the cowboy dom who Clara had called Henry. "Henry is going to be my chief enforcer, but I'm going to need more. You have the knowledge, the ability, and the desire to do good. You would be under his supervision when in the field."
"What about my family? My friends?" she whispered. Not that she had many. She noticed the room was very quiet now. "Can I see them?"
Shane nodded. He had been expecting these questions. "I encourage all my children and employees to break from their old lives. Humans, for the most part, simply are unable to deal with our reality, much less keep it a secret.
Our world is dangerous, Shamira. Do you really want your family to be part of it? I will not lie to you. I can command you not to see them, but I will not do so. The choice is up to you. But remember that exposing us and our secrets puts us in danger, and you would be held responsible. So choose wisely."
Shamira wasn't able to ask any more questions since food chose that moment to arrive. Apparently, Shane had a number of household servants, and several of them deposited a feast on the table.
After putting down a tray of roast beef, mashed potatoes, assorted greens, a huge bowl of salad, and just about anything else a girl could desire, they sat down next to some of the vampires and cocked their heads.
'They're not just delivering food,' Shamira realized. 'They ARE food!' Sure enough, Shane, Bjorne, and Banshee all dug fangs into the necks of their dinners, and those servants didn't seem to mind.
She was pretty sure the young man that Shane was chewing on was about to shoot a load in his pants. She turned to Clara, who was in the process of filling half her plate with mashed potatoes. Shamira actually found herself amused.
"What?" Clara said primly. "I like mashed potatoes." She slathered enough butter on them to clog a cow's heart and then covered it with cheese and bacon bits.
"How do you . . . we . . . do the fang thing?"
"Ah, that. Well, it'll happen automatically if you get really angry or really thirsty, but it's also something that you can will. Like concentrating on scrunching your eyebrow or clenching your jaw."
She watched as Shamira started to flex the muscles of her face, wishing she could watch muscles all over her body flex. Well, one thing at a time. Finally, she saw that the other woman had succeeded when she grasped her mouth.
"Ouf! I bith mah lib!"
Everyone at the table got a chuckle at that. "It happens to everyone the first time," Shane said.
Clara was watching as Shamira practiced expanding and retracting her fangs until she obviously felt comfortable, then went about eating. 'Interesting,' she thought. 'She finds a problem and stays with it until she solves it, then moves on. I think Shane was right to bring her over.'
During the meal, Shamira kept her ears open but her eyes mostly downward, occasionally stealing glances at the other feasters. At the table, she didn't hear any "masters" or "slaves" uttered. They talked about the news, sports, and some magical politics that she struggled to keep up with.
She glanced several times at the Brazilian hottie Renata, who was relaxed at the other end of the table and talking with Raul about increasing their magical security.
If she hadn't seen it with her own two eyes, Shamira never would have believed that the woman had been whipped and fucked less than half an hour earlier.
Instead, she was being a professional, albeit dressed in a black silk robe that probably felt heavenly against the stings on her skin.
And Shamira's mind kept drifting back to when she had seen Renata's face. Sweaty, hungry, satisfied. She shook her head.
She couldn't imagine doing what that girl had done. She was stronger than that. But no matter how hard she tried, that look haunted her.
'What do I do?' she thought. 'They can't expect me to make a decision right away. I've lost my job, maybe my family, and hell, I lost my life.' She remained quiet for the entire dinner and, when it was over, sat there quietly. She didn't know what she was supposed to do next.
Shane had been keeping an eye on the young woman. She had not been brought over under optimal conditions, and he felt sorry that she was so lost.
He normally tried to let people know about what being a vampire meant and what living in the world with little sunlight meant, but there had been no time.
He had made a decision that had completely turned her life upside down. "Clara, why don't you take Shamira down to the club? Show her a little of my empire? I have to make some calls and see how much leeway I have with our would-be conquerer, otherwise, I might join you."
"Wait," Shamira said. "What club? Not the one I was killed in, right?"
"Absolutely not. It was a second-rate establishment and gaudy besides. No, this is the club I own, and you'll find it considerably more tasteful. At least I hope you will, otherwise I may have to fire someone."
"I'll go with," Renata said. "I need to talk to Travis anyway and see if he can recommend any other weres that might help boost the security. When will the new housing be ready, by the way?"
"I'll be closing on an adjacent property next week, so we'll be able to house them as soon as you find them and approve them."
"I'll tag along as well," Henry said, a sexy Texas drawl in his voice. "If the missus decides to take ya up, I might be able to help answer her questions."
"Okay," Clara said.
"Hey, I don't really have anything to wear for a . . . night out . . . after being dead."
Monique perked up. "I can --"
"I think it's a bit early for that," Clara chuckled. "It's okay. Just throw a long coat over what you have on and you'll be fine. It'll make everyone wonder what, if anything, is beneath it, and sometimes the mystery is the greatest aphrodisiac of all."
"Okay, you're creeping me out again."
"I'll meet you in the garage," Renata said, eying the new girl over. "I think I've got a coat that will work for her."
She stood up, dropped her robe over the back of the chair, and strode out naked, wearing the red welts on her back like badges of honor. Shamira was apparently the only one shocked by this.
"She's got a great bod," Clara muttered. "Why not show it off?"
Shamira couldn't argue. She stood up and followed Clara to the garage, and she got the sinking suspicion that Henry was checking her out. She wasn't sure what he was judging, and it certainly wasn't any romantic interest.
Guys, even vampiric ones, that looked that good could have anyone they wanted. That meant they didn't wind up interested in Shamira.
They got to the garage and Shamira's heart and mind took another shock. The garage was an attached building, and inside was every kind of vehicular toy you could imagine. Truck, cars, motorcycles . . . hell, there were even golf carts. "Damn, now all I need is a golf course," she murmured. Clara smiled. "Shane has a nine-hole course on the property. He turns on the night lights and plays to unwind sometimes. You play?" "A bit. I'm not great." "Shane would be thrilled to have someone to play with," Clara replied. "The only other person who plays is Banshee and well, she's a sore loser. Love her to death, but don't ever get competitive with her." "I'll keep that in mind." Normally, Shamira wasn't a car person, but she couldn't help but drool over the selection she was looking at. "Which one are we taking? Oh my God, he has a Prius?!"
"It's a magical drug. It's a mixture of vamp blood, were blood, and some faerie blood to bind it. Makes the user pretty much God-like for about thirty minutes before the crash. Unless they're in good shape, it might collapse their heart and make their brains leak out their ears. It's the most illegal drug in the underworld of course, but that doesn't stop people from dealing with it. It's death to be caught carrying or distributing.""Death?!""Considering the blood has to be harvested from a dying host, yeah. Our world is dangerous," Renata said, looking a bit impatient. "Keep that in mind."Shamira realized that not everyone in Shane's brood was necessarily happy about her being brought over. She wondered if she'd done something to offend this woman. She had seemed nice earlier, and Clara had said she was normally perky. "How many doses per vial?""One."
Travis motioned for her to follow, so the three of them went charging through the bar, through another door, and into what looked like a holding cell. A single light swung overhead, making the room seem even more ominous by casting shadows in the corners. There was also a drain in the middle of the floor. Shamira didn't want to think about that. The security forces were backed up against one wall; one perpetrator sat cowering in a corner, and the other held a young woman by the throat. "Don't come any damn closer!" the man said, snarling like an animal. His eyes were as red as a sunset and his face had lost all vestiges of humanity. "Clear the damn way! I'm taking her and leaving. Anyone tries to stop me and she dies, along with the would-be hero. Got that?" Travis motioned for Renata and Shamira to move back. They wer
'Screw him,' she thought. 'This is his fault, so he doesn't get a break.' She threw a punch as his too-damn-pretty-anyway face, but she missed by a country mile. He had moved so quickly that it was as if she had swung at him in deep water. Her next swing missed as well, as did her attempt to kick him in the knee."Fight me damn it," Shamira growled when she realized that Shane wouldn't fight back. She stood there for a moment, wanting badly for him to swing. She wanted him to hit her so hard that she didn't wake up again. She wanted anything but to feel the way that she did at that moment. "You should have just let me die. Why couldn't you just let me die?"He sighed. "Because I saw someone I thought would be worth saving. I don't regret it. You saved an innocent life tonight. Doesn't that count in your mind?""I killed someone!" she hissed violently. "I don't even know what the hell I am. I d
He stood up. "I would like my keys back though. You stranded the others at Prometheus." He smiled, but she didn't smile back. She just handed over the keys. "I won't ask that you make your decision now. You haven't even really had a chance to get used to being a vampire yet, much less this other business.You are welcome to stay at the house while you figure things out. Talk to the others. They can help, and they want to. Clara has been sick with worry since you ran out." He raised his eyebrows and smirked. "And if you think that I have unusual designs for you and your body, then you might want to ask her what SHE'S been thinking." He got into his car and drove away.Shamira shivered a bit, but not from the cold. Sure, Clara had made some "interesting" comments, but she had just assumed it was vampire freakiness. But she wanted Shamira too?She took another look at her family hom
The next evening . . . Shamira had never been a big shopper before, much less closed down the mall. It seemed that her traveling companions were more than used to it. She learned some things about them, such as the fact that Lillian and Monique had both once been swimsuit models as well as lovers. Lillian had taken up the art of necromancy when she was younger but kept it relatively in the background until the night that she and Monique had been attacked by a rogue werewolf while walking through the woods in Northern Georgia. The wolf hadn't realized that necromancy was potent magic, as Lillian had sucked the life energy right out of him before managing to kill him with the animated skeleton of a ten-point buck. But Monique had already been bitten, so Lillian had to keep her lover alive and help her adjust to the new world
Two hours later . . ."How's she doing?" Shane whispered as he and Reaper watched Shamira go through her strength tests. Vampires were stronger than humans, so having a standard gym was impractical. Instead, they had a set of hydraulic equipment that was derived from the stuff used to test the power of heavy-duty industrial machines.The big black man didn't bother to glance at his clipboard. Reaper probably never forgot anything he heard or saw. His brain would probably explode with information in about a century or so."Well, she's bench-pressing about half a ton, she did the twenty-yard shuttle run agility test in 1.5 seconds, did the hundred-yard dash in 4.23 seconds, scored higher on her shooting proficiency than anyone here besides me --" He paused. "Shane, have you ever met a fledgling so advanced?""No," Shane said. "Shadow H
Several days later . . .Shamira liked having a routine again. Strangely, being a fledgling vampire wasn't so bad. She didn't need much sleep, couldn't gain weight, didn't have any more periods, and could eat anything she wanted. She slept from sunup until the middle of the afternoon, even though she could navigate in daylight if she chose.She was still wearing sweats all of the time, but at least they were her own sweats. The modified Desert Eagle hung in a low shoulder holster underneath a light jacket, and the snakewhip was wrapped around her waist. She'd been practicing with the whips a lot the last couple of days and had made great progress. And while she would never admit it, she enjoyed the sound of it cracking."What's the name of it again?" she asked. She liked Henry. He had a nice smile on top of a gorgeous body, but he didn't feel the need to