I left before anyone else had the chance to zip up their backpacks or shut their notes. I groused as I walked the long, artificially lit hallways, watching my reflection ripple in the tinted windows. Around me moved the student populace and harried professors, an influx of night students coming through the doors with fresh faces while the day-wakers were all but stumbling their way out of the building.

The corridor was loud and exceptionally hot with the presence of so many bodies crowding the narrow space. There were young vampires here, their energy swamping the halls like a marsh tide—and there were Fae, their power weaving strong clouds of pressure above our heads, crawling along the ceilings in thick plumes of energy. Other people couldn't sense the imbalance of it all, but I could. The sensation was choking. Perspiration beaded my temples as I held my talent in check with an iron-grip, willing myself to push through the crowds without vomiting on anybody's shoes. 

I had an office space, of sorts, on the second floor. Full-time, tenured professors and instructors had nice, if small, offices will walls and doors that shut. The rest of the university's staff shared a floor space separated into sections by flimsy, gray cubicle walls, the entire low-ceilinged space smelling distinctly of someone's preheated ramen lunch and mold. It wasn't a pleasant combination.

I was a barely tolerated part-time, untenured, and untitled instructor, but I was one of the very few people in my specialized field, and among that number, I was one of the only people with a master's degree. As I said to Professor Hendrick's low-level local history class, national law required all courses to supplement their traditional instruction with ideas, concepts, and histories relevant to supernatural culture. The university muckety-mucks might dislike my demeanor, my clothes, and my instruction style, but they couldn't get rid of me, and they'd be hard-pressed to find someone with my credentials as a replacement. As such, the corner cubicle I claimed as my own was a bit more spacious than some of the others, and since it opened onto a vacant corner of the floor space, I was afforded a modicum of privacy. 

I sat in my squeaky chair at my desk and sighed, listening to the gentle murmuring of other instructors hidden somewhere in the maze of softly lit cubicles. It was an odd, liminal hour. Many of the human professors and instructors had packed up and disappeared just before the sun set. They were replaced by a thin slew of vampire professors—most of whom could have probably qualified for tenure before my grandpa was born. They still strutted around in long black academia robes with golden tassels about their necks, fangs glinting whenever students asked stupid questions. They didn't mix with the low-blood, unlettered instructors—thank God—so my floor was left quiet and subdued in the growing night.

Books crowded the flimsy, build-it-yourself shelves I had leaning against the inner cubicle wall. My desk was dusty and littered with gum wrappers, used post-it notes, and half thought out scribbles of lectures I would have to give in the next week. I poked my keyboard, lost in thought, watching as the digital fish swam on my screensaver and the cool night air came in through the cracked window at my back. Somebody complained loudly about the draft, but I ignored them. My tolerance for the cold was extreme; my tolerance for the dry air being pumped in from the heater was not.

My phone pinged, and I slid it from my pants pocket. I read the text message from Sibbie, telling me she was going to be staying late, caught in the maelstrom of judicial crap coming from the Seelie now storming the station, and that I should leave without her. I shot back a reply before returning the phone to its pocket. I felt bad for her. I thought my job was dull, but at least I got to go home when my hours ended. 

Someone left through the far door, their silhouette visible through the interior windows for just a second before they disappeared. Hearing the heavy silence surrounding me, I hunched in my chair and leaned my elbows on the desk. Hesitant, I pinched the edge of my sleeve and tugged it down to bare a swath of pale wrist and forearm.

Large, intricate scars created a vaguely macabre, almost damask pattern on my skin. They were emitting an intense, unnatural cyan light. 

I couldn't remember my formative years—not very well, anyway. Sometimes muffled recollections came back to me, drifting through the nether of my subconscious mind, and they were typically memories I didn't want to remember. I could recall the glint of harsh light on a scalpel, a reflection of my terrified childish face in a pair of rectangular glasses, the searing pain of my skin being carved into without any form of anesthetic, the murmured sobs of apologizes falling for my mutilator's lips. I didn't try to remember anymore. The ghost of remembered agony sometimes fell over me, and I eagerly shook it off every time. 

From wrist to shoulder, neck to waist, waist to ankle, I was covered in thick, swirling scars made in a painstakingly exact pattern. They hadn't distorted as I grew older and didn't lessen with time. Whenever I used my talent, they gave off this warm, burning glow of color and energy, and when my talent was dormant they remained dark and cold. They were clearly scars and could not be passed off as tattoos, even when they weren't glowing. I hid them at all times. They were clearly unnatural, and anyone who saw them would have to speculate how I got them, and what I was.

Annoyed with myself for being dumb, I jerked the sleeve straight again, covering my glowing skin. The light was more intense than usual, as was the creeping heat crawling through my veins. I should have done something else to thwart the vampire and get Sibbie out of the way. I had been stupid.

I slipped my glasses off and cleaned my fingerprints from the smudged lenses. I didn't even have them back on before I realized there was someone standing behind me.

"Hey—!" I gasped, fumbling with my glasses as a hand gripped my upper arm and jerked me out of my chair. "Who in the hell do you think you are?!"

Power tickled my nose, and the hand on my person squeezed with cold, immutable strength. There were two of them in my cubicle, one behind my chair, another in the aisle, both dressed in black suits with buzzed hair. I hadn't heard even a breath of their approach. Both were pale, their eyes dark, and the one standing with his arms crossed in the aisle grinned at me. Fangs gleamed in his crooked smile. 

Shit. Vampires?! 

"Yes, that's the one," the second vamp said to the one holding me. Suddenly a sack was jerked over my head and I gasped, foul-tasting fabric cleaving to my mouth as the drawstrings were savagely drawn closed at my throat and choked my air. The vampire hoisted me onto his shoulder, one arm going around my thighs to hold me stationary as I hung like a limp, shocked fish. 

"W-what are you doing?!" I demanded, my hands flying to my neck to get the damn sack off my head—but a sharp thwack across my knuckles made me stop. The vampires were already moving, the gait of the one carrying me not shifting in the slightest despite the burden of my weight. Startled cries followed their passage, and I distinctly heard a security guard yelling at them to stop. They didn't.

I hated being blind, but I refused to allow my ability out of my body, terrified that might be exactly what these thugs wanted. Oh my God, what did they want? Where were they taking me?! I gave a thought to the phone in my pocket, but I wouldn't be able to reach it before one of the vamps took it from me. What was going on?!

We were outside. I felt the air shift, heard the shouts of students and university staff being shunted aside as the vampires moved at their frightening clip. "Help!" I shrieked, hoping anyone—anyone at all—could stop my abductors. One of them whacked me on the back of the head. Dazed but not yet unconscious, I did nothing when I was unceremoniously dropped into the trunk of a car and the lid slammed shut above me, sealing me in darkness.

"Hey!" I yelled as I struggled with the stupid hood on my head, trying to get the damn thing off, but the vampires had triple knotted the strings and I'd be damned if I couldn't get them undone. The car jostled beneath me when the vampires got in the front, their doors slamming. The engine revved to life.

Holy shit, I had been kidnapped from my desk by two vampires and no one had stopped them.

I kicked and thrashed, fumbling blindly for the release lever car manufacturers installed inside trunks—but either the vampires had removed the little tag or I simply couldn't find it in my panicked haze. The smell of grease and oil was heady in the trunk and it mixed terrifically with the stench of cooked vampire that had soaked into my clothes. I kept trying to spit the fabric of the sack out of my mouth, but my heavy breathing made it impossible. 

They didn't drive for long. I counted three, maybe four turns, and two stops at lights or signs. I could have been wrong, of course. It was difficult to tell what was going on with how disoriented I was. They slammed on the brakes suddenly and I slid with the rest of trunk's contents, grunting when my head slammed into a wheel-well. Nice. Bet they did that on purpose. 

They parked the car and I heard the motor die. I prepared myself to throw an almighty kicking fit, but when the trunk opened I could hear voices. A lot of voices. I could hear music thumping, people shouting over the rhythmic beat, and...water lapping? Water? Are we at the waterfront?

I was plucked out of the car and thrown onto a shoulder again, and this time I went without complaint. I knew where we were now, and I knew no one would help me.

The vampires pressed deeper into the waiting heat and noise, waves of unrestrained vampiric power eddying about us. I crossed my arms and waited, digging my elbows into the vampire's back with as much strength as I could muster. He jostled me, taking a few steps, and dropped me into a chair. I yelped when I landed, hands flying out to grab a table. The sack was ripped off my head, almost snapping my neck with the force. It was a miracle my glasses managed to remain fixed to my face. 

I was in a crowded bar, the lights on low, tinted red to glow against the black tiles on the floor and ceiling as the mirrored walls reflected the scene in disgusting sanguine shades. The music pulsed through me in a low, gut-wrenching note, and people swayed on the cramped dance floor. I sat in a chair before a secluded booth raised above the floor on a glass platform. My abductors fell back to the velvet rope, shooing away scantily dressed women trying to sneak inside the restricted area. 

The four vampires I had seen at the crime scene sat at the booth, ringed before me, shadowed by the eerie lighting and the slick, rounded back of the booth's bench. Emial sat in the middle with a leggy brunette vamp at his arm, her pouty lips at his ear, whispering. Roccia Nera's Baron was staring at me, fangs visible in a wide, menacing smile. 

I was so dead. 

Aurel Havik was there as well, face lost to the shadows. He had unbuttoned his long trench coat, revealing the crimson and black waistcoat and pale grey cravat underneath. The antiquated fashion suited the vampire. He was far too intimidating and giant to be called elegant, but the monster dripped an old-world, debonair aesthetic new vampires could never imitate. He was staring at his large, spindly white hands on the table.

I huffed, straightening my clothes even as I started to tremble. I ignored Havik, the woman, and the young, modern vamp at Havik's side and gave Emial my full attention. "The hood was unnecessary," I seethed as I gently touched the back of my head, where the vampire had whacked me. There was a prominent lump. "I know where we are."

I really did. We were in Fiume di Sangue, a bar on the aqueduct's western bank that attracted a large following because it was owned and frequented by vampires. The media snapped pictures of the vampire elite coming in and out of this place all the time. I had seen the inside before, but only once, and only during the day when the bar was open for a quiet, normal lunch crowd.

It was at night this place turned into an absolute madhouse.

Emial laughed and his voice carried over the music. I glanced over the second booth inside the VIP section, finding it empty. No one beyond the velvet ropes was paying us any mind, and I realized—with another grimace—that someone at this table must be pulling a shadow. Vamps couldn't become invisible, but they certainly could redirect attention, clouding the minds of the mundane to ignore their presence completely.

"Forgive my children in their heavy-handed ways; they were simply eager to follow my wishes."

I squared my shoulders, but I knew all of the vampires at the table could see my terrified shivering. The female vamp was snickering. "Don't blame me when they get brought up on kidnapping charges. They dragged me out of the university in front of dozens of witnesses."

The vampire lifted a wine glass to his lips and let a thin trill of red liquid pass his lips. My throat was suddenly so dry I didn't know if I could speak. "Oh, I doubt that will be a problem."

Yeah, I doubted it too.

I didn't ask how he knew who I was, or how to find me. He was the Baron of this city, he could find anyone he wanted—and Havik knew my name through a once mutual acquaintance. I didn't ask what he wanted, either. I didn't want to know.

"You know who I am," Emial said, tipping the wine glass from side to side, considering the viscous liquid inside with a bored eye. He didn't ask me a question so I didn't respond. "My associate here tells me you are adept at finding people—that you have assisted the RNPD with locating many suspects in the past, with a certain...anonymity." His famished gaze lit upon me, then slid away, uninterested. "I have my doubts."

Still, I said nothing. The thunderous beat of the music gave me a headache, as was the unchecked wash of magic radiating off the lesser vampires dancing in the fevered crowd. They were pulling small shadows, confusing the minds of people so they were perceived as more beautiful, or less threatening. It was a minor trick, but with several vampires allowing strains of their magic to whisper through the air, the magnitude was vast. The energy rubbed against my skin in silent invitation. I wiped my wet brow on the back of my hand, certain the vampires thought I was sweating because of fear and not magically induced heatstroke.

"I want you to find a vampire from one of my cadres who has gone missing." Emial plucked a photograph from the front pocket of his vest and slid it across the table with one finger. In the harsh light I could discern the outline of a young woman, but that was all and I wouldn't lean over to study it further. Emial's brow quirked.

"I don't know what you've been told," I said slowly, annunciating my words with care. It wouldn't be wise to let a misunderstanding remain between me and the city's head-vamp. "But I'm just a part-time lecturer at the University. I wouldn't even know where to start looking for a person!" I added an upward inflection to my words, hoping I sounded clueless. I swallowed around the trembling knot in my throat. "I have a friend who's a detective. I don't work with her. Maybe I've been confused for someone else?"

Emial swiveled the dark liquid in his glass and gave it a thoughtful taste. His gaze was heavy enough to make me fidget. "Perhaps."

"I'm certain that's it. Your associate is wrong about me." Said associate glared at me from his indomitable height and I refused to glance in his direction. The other vamps were watching Emial instead of me, which was a relief. I shoved my chair back from the table, and when no one moved to stop me, I stood. "Well. I, uh, need to be going. Good luck with—." I waved a hand over the spotless table and the single photo centered on its top. I swiveled on my heels and stepped over the VIP rope before either of Emial's thugs could let me pass. I all but ran through the vibrating crowd, not daring to look back.

Stupid, stupid Grae, I thought, gnawing on my lower lip as I elbowed a pierced partygoer in the gut to get out of the front door. I brought too much attention to myself tonight. Way too much attention. If Ishcer Emial discovers what I am and that I really can sniff out people, I'll never dig myself out from under the mountain of blackmail that'll land on me. Stupid!

A hand grabbed my forearm and I jumped. "The Baron told me to drive you home," said the fanged bouncer at my side. He was less polished than the men Emial had snatched me from work, but his security shirt looked freshly laundered and the close cut of his curly brown hair was well-kept.

"Listen—!" I flicked the nametag pinned to a firm pectoral. "—Dominick! I'm quite capable of getting home on my own, thank you very much!" I threw a hand out toward traffic to illustrate my point. The vehicles on the street weren't moving very quickly thanks to the oblivious tourists drifting on and off the sidewalks at will. A yellow taxi swerved closer. "So back off!"

Dominick frowned, but he did release my arm. "Fine. No need to get snippy."

"I think there's plenty need to be snippy," I retorted as I grabbed a door handle and jerked. I leapt into the car before anyone came running out of the club after to me.

The front of Fiume di Sangue was framed with two black pillars marbled with veins of white, the neon letters of the establishment's name glowing bloody above the yawning entryway. People crowded the walkway, desperate to get past Dominick and his muscled ilk, desperate for just a peek of their fangs or something else equally freakish and unknown to them. The black doors leading inside parted, admitting one bubbly woman obviously too inebriated to be allowed into another bar—but it wasn't the woman I was interested in.

No, it was the tall silhouette highlighted by the pulsating lights of scarlet and orange standing motionless just inside the bar, staring out. Staring out toward me.

I swore under my breath and clasped my hands together. Stupid. Damn I'm stupid.

"Where to?" the cabbie asked with a casual tilt of his head.

"Anywhere," I muttered, ignoring everything and everyone—including the swell of vampire energy I could sense passing ineffectually over my skin. "Just anywhere but here."