(Vanessa Moe🔝)

We met in the same room Lauren had escorted me to when I first met her. The room was upstairs, past the dining area, in a shadowed corner of the club. I followed Lauren as the throng of vampires parted before us. The candles in the room had been lit and cast flickering shadows along the walls. Lauren took a seat on the couch and I followed. Normani stood next to it, arms crossed, watching each vampire enter the room with a cautious gaze. Although she was likely an occasional blood donor, she played another role in Lauren's life. Normani was a bodyguard. But what the hell was she hiding under the trench coat?

"My lady." The vampire who had spoken moved to the middle of the room. His long brown hair fell around his shoulders like a sandy waterfall. He went to one knee before Lauren, bowing his head. "You requested our presence."

Like most of the other vampires in the room, he was incredibly pale. My skin was almost as light as the vampires', but human and lycanthrope skin doesn't take on that luminous paleness.

"Futhark," Lenorre said, "you may stand."

The vampire rose. Futhark? Was that his name? I wasn't oblivious to the Norse path. In fact, I'd studied the Futhark runes, once upon a time, but a vampire named Futhark? He was tall, about six-five. Guiding the long silky tresses behind his shoulders, he looked at me with incredibly blue eyes, but they were not true blue. Specks of chestnut brown ringed his pupils. He was slim, with a slim face, his cheekbones high enough to make his eyes seem deeper and give him a wise, thoughtful expression. Suddenly, the name suited him. He was named after the old Germanic alphabet. He dipped his head in greeting, and I returned the gesture.

"Thank you, my lady," he said. By the way he carried himself, I was betting he was an older vamp. He moved with casual grace, as if it was second nature. He seemed mild-mannered and candid, qualities I hadn't seen much of among the vampires. His aura of intelligence and power continued to scream, "Older."

"Camila." Lauren's voice wasn't exactly empty, but it had taken on a polite, almost political edge. "I would like to introduce you to Futhark. He is one of the Primes in this city."

Futhark actually bowed to me.

"Prime?" I asked.

"Yes." He looked a little confused.

"My apologies, Futhark," I said as politely as I could. "I'm a little ignorant of vampire society."

"There is no need to apologize. You are wondering what the title means?"

I nodded.

He looked at Lauren again. "I can see why you like her, my lady. She has a sense of honesty and forwardness you do not often see."

Oh, yeah, he was an old vampire. I'd bet my ass on that one.

He swept his arms out in front of him. "A Prime vampire," he explained, "is a stronger vampire within the vampire community. We are older and offer our loyalty to the Count or Countess of a territory."

"You seem old enough to have your own clan," I said.

Futhark nodded. "I am powerful enough to become a Count if I did so choose. It is not a burden I wish to carry."

"Thank you, Futhark."

He gave a slight bow. "You are most welcome. My lady Countess has always had impeccable judgment. Any friend or ally of hers is a friend and ally of mine."

I didn't really know what to say. I felt like I was suddenly stuck in some type of old court. Which, in a sense, I guess I was. Vampire court. Whoohoo.

"Countess." A woman's voice rose from the group of vampires, and the speaker stepped forward, her sable hair gleaming where it fell past her shoulders. "Might I ask why you have called us into council?"

"You may." Lenorre looked at the vampire, her voice now empty. "One of our kind has murdered a boy. I want those of you assembled to be on the lookout. Gather what information you can. Either a traitor is among us or a stray is in town."

"Very well," the woman said, smiling. Her gaze shifted to mine, and the breath caught in my throat at its intensity. Her sea-green eyes were unflinching as she stepped toward me. "Is this your new pet? I have heard a little about you." She watched me intently, as if memorizing my every expression. I resisted the urge to squirm. I wasn't a child, and I wasn't human. I refused to let the big bad vampire scare me or make me uncomfortable.

"Camila is no pet," Lauren said, and although she looked calm, I could feel the tension in her body where it touched mine.

"Camila," the vampire said, as if tasting my name on her tongue. "A lovely name for such a lovely young woman."

"Vanessa," Lenorre said.

She looked at me, and something in the way she did so made me think Lenorre wasn't the only vampire with a taste for women.

Vanessa turned her full attention back to Lauren. "Countess." She lowered her head, though unlike Futhark, she didn't fall into a bow or curtsy. "You have done well for yourself." Her sea-green gaze met mine again and the tension between us was like a cord being pulled tight. I didn't like it.

There were less than thirty vampires in the room, and not all of them introduced themselves as Futhark had. As I watched from my seat beside Lauren, I remembered Stanley, a vampire I'd met during my first visit to the club. It was hard to miss his eyes, which were as blue as any Siamese cat's. It was equally difficult to miss the labret piercing beneath his lower lip. I'd thought he was a younger vampire, but apparently I was mistaken. He stood in one corner of the room, wearing a knee-length velvet jacket the color of a green apple with a pair of tight black pants. I watched his slight nod in profile, the chin-length black hair swaying as he listened to a gothic-looking doll-like woman I didn't recognize. As if he sensed my gaze, he turned, offering a wink.

Lauren advised them to find out what they could and report back to her. The vampires were taking their leave when I caught Vanessa staring at me. I was standing with Lauren, waiting to leave, when she visually dissected me as if I stood naked in front of her. I fought my own discomfort and forced myself to look away, sensing the wolf's agitation at my refusal to rise to the challenge. But I knew better than to take on a vampire in Lauren's club just because she was staring at me.

I sensed more than saw Vanessa turn her attention back to Isabella. Isabella was the girlfriend of a guy named Trevor, and I had met them both at Lenorre's when I was working my last case. Isabella lived in Lauren's house, but I hadn't known she was one of the older vampires, though I remembered seeing her wearing a frilly, old-fashioned nightgown. That should've hinted at her age, but the first time I'd met her she'd worn a miniskirt.

Once the room was near empty, we left. Normani sat in the backseat as I drove back to Lauren's. On the way home, she even managed to keep her mouth shut. I was tempted to swing by a gas station and buy her a damn cookie.