Then she took a deep breath, eyes shut. She needed to work to focus, because she'd never done
anything like this before. The vampires she'd killed had usually been caught in the middle of some
despicable act-and they'd all been fighting at the end. She'd never staked one that was lying still.
Concentrate, she thought. You need zanshin, continuing mind, awareness of everything without fixing on anything.
She felt her feet becoming part of the cold concrete beneath them, her muscles and bones becoming
extensions of the ground. The strike would carry the energy of the earth itself.
Her hands brought the sword up. She was ready for the kill. She opened her eyes to perfect her aim.
And then she saw that the vampire was awake. His eyes were open and he was looking at her.
Chapter 5
Rashel froze. Her sword remained in the air, poised over the vampire's heart.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" the vampire said. "Go on and do it."
Rashel didn't know what she was waiting for. The vampire was in a position to block her sword with his
wooden handcuffs, but he didn't do any such thing. She could tell by his body language that he wasn't
going to, either. Instead he just lay there, looking up at her with eyes that were as dark and empty as the
depths of space.
His hair was tousled on his forehead and his mouth was a bleak line. He didn't seem afraid. He just went
on staring with those fathomless eyes.
All right, Rashel thought. Do it. Even the leech is telling you to. Do it fast-now.
But instead she found herself pivoting and stepping slowly away from him.
"Sorry," she said out loud. "I don't take orders from parasites."
She kept her sword at the ready in case he made any sudden moves. But all he did was glance down at
the wooden handcuffs, wiggle his wrists in them, and then lie back.
"I see," he said with a strange smile. "So it's torture this time, right? Well, that should be amusing for you."
Stake him, dummy, came the little voice in Rashel's head. Don't talk to him. It's dangerous to get in a
conversation with his kind.
But she couldn't refocus herself. In a minute, she told the voice. First I have to get my own control back.
She knelt in her ready-for-action crouch and picked up the flashlight, turning it full on his face. He
blinked and looked away, squinting.
There. Now she could see him, but he couldn't see her. Vampire eyes were hypersensitive to light. And
even if he did manage to get a glimpse of her, she was wearing her scarf. She had all the advantages, and
it made her feel more in command of the situation.
"Why would you think we want to torture you?" she said.
He smiled at the ceiling, not trying to look at her. "Because I'm still alive." He raised the handcuffs. "And
aren't these traditional? A few vampires from
the south shore have turned up mutilated with stocks like these on. It seemed to have been done for fun."
Smile.
Vicky's work, Rashel thought. She wished he would stop smiling. It was such a disturbing smile,
beautiful and a little mad.
"Unless," the vampire was going on, "it's information you want."
Rashel snorted. "Would I be likely to get information from you if I did want it?" "Well." Smile. "Not
likely." "I didn't think so," Rashel said dryly. He laughed out loud. Oh, God, Rashel thought. Stake him.
She didn't know what was wrong with her. Okay, he was charming-in a weird way. But she'd known
other charming vampires-smooth, practiced flatterers who tried to sweet-talk or cajole their way out of
being staked. Some had tried to seduce her. Almost all had tried mind control. It was only because
Rashel had the will to resist telepathy that she was alive today.
But this vampire wasn't doing any of the ordinary things-and when he laughed, it made Rashers heart
thump oddly. His whole face changed when he laughed. A sort of light shone in it. Girl, you are in trouble.
Kill him quick. "Look," she said, and she was surprised to find her voice a little shaky. "This isn't
personal. And you probably don't care, but I'm not the one who was going to torture you. This is
business, and it's what I have to do." She took a deep breath and reached for the sword by her knee.
He turned his face to the light. He wasn't smiling now and there was no amusement in his voice when he
said, "I understand. You've got... honor." Looking back at the ceiling, he added, "And you're right, this
is the way it always has to end when our two races meet. It's kill or be killed. The law of nature."
He was speaking to her as one warrior to another. Suddenly Rashel felt something she'd never felt for a
vampire before. Respect. A strange wish that they weren't on opposite sides in this war. A regret that
they could never be anything but deadly enemies.
He's somebody I could talk to, she thought. An odd loneliness had taken hold of her. She hadn't realized
she cared about having anyone to talk to.
She found herself saying awkwardly, "Is there anybody you want notified-afterward? I mean, do you
have any family? I could make sure the news gets around, so they'd know what had happened to you."
She didn't expect him to actually give her any names. That would be crazy. In this game knowledge was
power, with each side trying to find out who the players on the other side were. If you could identify
someone as a vampire-or a vampire hunter-you knew who to kill.
It was Batman and Catwoman all over. The important thing was to preserve your secret identity.
But this vampire, who was obviously a lunatic, said thoughtfully, "Well, you could send a note to my
adopted father. He's Hunter Redfern. Sorry I can't give you an address, but he should be somewhere
down east." Another smile. "I forgot to tell you my name. It's Quinn."
Rashel felt as if she'd been hit with an oak club.
Quinn.
One of the most dangerous vampires in all the Night World. Maybe the most dangerous of the made
vampires, the ones who'd started out human. She knew him by reputation-every vampire hunter did. He
was supposed to be a deadly fighter and a brilliant strategist; clever, resourceful... and cold as ice. He