corner and were now so close I could see their gaunt features, their scars, and the red of their eyes.
Fear shuddered through me. Whatever these things were, they
werenât
human.
âWe need somewhere to hide.â I scanned the buildings around us somewhat desperately. Brokenwindows, shattered brickwork, and rot abounded. Nothing offered the sort of fortress we so desperately needed right now.
âI
know
.â He yanked me to the right, just about pulling my arm out of the socket in the process. We pounded down a small lane that smelled of piss and decay, our footsteps echoing across the night. It was a sound that spoke of desperation.
The red cloaks were quiet. Eerily quiet.
A metal door appeared out of the shadows. Sam paused long enough to fling it open, then thrust me inside and followed, slamming the door shut and then shoving home several thick bolts.
Just in time.
Something hit the other side of the door, the force of it enough to dent the metal and make me jump back in fright. Fire flicked across my fingertips, an instinctive reaction I quickly doused as Sam turned around.
â
That
wonât help.â His voice was grim, but it still held echoes of the distaste that had dominated his tone all those years ago. âWe need to get upstairs.
Now,
â he added, as the door shuddered under another impact.
He brushed past me and disappeared into the gloom of the cavernous building. I unraveled the scarf from around my face and hastily followed. âWhat the hell are those things? And why do they want to kill you?â
âLong story.â He reached a grimy set of stairs and took them two at a time. The metal groaned under his weight, but the sound was smotheredby another hit to the door. This time, something broke.
âHurry,â he added rather unnecessarily.
I galloped after him, my feet barely even hitting the metal. We ran down a corridor, stirring the dust that clung to everything until the air was thick and difficult to breathe. From downstairs came a metallic crashâthe door coming off its hinges and smashing to the concrete.
They were in. They were coming.
Fear leapt up my throat, and this time the flames that danced across my fingertips would not be quenched. The red-gold flickers lit the darkness, lending the decay and dirt that surrounded us an odd sort of warmth.
Sam went through another doorway and hit a switch on the way through. Light flooded the space, revealing a long, rectangular room. In the left corner, as far away from the door as possible, was a rudimentary living area. Hanging from the ceiling on thick metal cables was a ring of lights that bathed the space in surreal violet light.
âDonât tell me you live here,â I said as I followed Sam across the room.
He snorted. âNo. This is merely a safe house. One of five we have in this area.â
The problems in this area were obviously far worse than anyone was admitting if cops now needed safe houses. Or maybe it was simply a development linked to the appearance of the red cloaks. Certainly I hadnât come across anythinglike them before, and Iâd been around for centuries. âWill the UV lighting stop those things?â
He glanced at me. âYou can see that?â
âYes.â I said it tartly, my gaze on his, searching for the distaste and the hate. Seeing neither. âIâm not human, remember?â
He grunted and looked away. Hurt stirred again, the embers refusing to die, even five years down the track.
âUV stops them.â He paused, then added, âMost of the time.â
âOh, thatâs a comfort,â I muttered, the flames across my fingers dousing as I thrust a hand through my hair. âWhat the hell are they, then? Vampires? Theyâre the only nonhumans I can think of affected by UV.â
And they certainly hadnât
looked
like vampires. Most vamps tended to look and act human, except for the necessity to drink blood and