Second Chance Page 5

  Cratian nodded. “We could kill him.”

  “I could.” Joss eyed them all with the first bit of confidence he’d felt since stepping off that plane at LaGuardia. “I could kill him. And I will.”

  Morgan returned to the living room an hour later, his arms loaded up with file folders. He passed them out, and Joss flipped open the red one he’d been handed. Inside was a photograph of a young girl, roughly sixteen years of age. And way, smokin’ hot—as Henry would have put it.

  She reminded him of Kat.

  Kat. He wondered where she was now, and if she ever thought about him in a way that didn’t call for vengeance. He doubted it very much. He understood, perhaps better than anyone, Kat’s driving need for revenge against the person who’d stolen her father away. After all, Joss shared that same drive, those same emotions, when it came to the vampire who’d killed his sister. He couldn’t blame her for wanting to kill him. But he did miss her friendship, despite the fact that he worried that she might follow through on her threats. Her text messages oozed hatred, but also, beneath the surface, showed her pain at having lost Sirus. Because of Joss’s actions. His insides twisted with guilt and loss that only Kat could understand. He missed Sirus, too, hate it though he did.

  Morgan gestured to the file folders. “These are all some pretty high rollers in Vamptopia, but one is particularly nasty. Who drew Em?”

  Joss slid the photograph to the side and read three words that gave him pause. SUBJECT’S NAME: EM.

  Morgan looked at him and shook his head. “Figures. She’ll be a fun one to track, little brother. Cunning, cruel, and not to mention the oldest vampire that we know exists, which means she’s crazy strong. Of course, if anybody has a shot at getting close to her, it’s you.”

  Joss blinked. “Why would you say that?”

  Paty chuckled, shoving Joss playfully. “Because you’re a teenage boy, Joss. Em is trapped in her age. She’ll likely gravitate to other teens. Besides . . . you’re cute.”

  There was a distinct pause. One followed by uproarious laughter from Ash, Cratian, and Morgan. When it finally died down, Cratian patted Joss on the back. “And cute is definitely something you want on your Slayer resume, kid.”

  Joss rolled his eyes and looked down at one of the sheets of paper inside the red folder, the one that listed usual haunts. “Whatever. I’m going to head out to Toys “” Us and then this Obscura place, see if I can dig anything up about Em.”

  It wasn’t long before Ash and Paty decided to start out on their own respective investigations as well. It felt good to start his journey with two other Slayers. If nothing else, it was a little less lonely.

  They stepped outside of the brownstone and Joss marveled in the warm air. Paty grabbed him by the sleeve as they reached the sidewalk and tugged him off to the side, where they were met by Ash. “We have to run through a little tutorial before you hit the mean streets, little man. Camouflage, tracking . . . have to touch on them all before you get started.”

  Joss drew his eyebrows together in mild insult. “But I know that stuff already. Or are you forgetting that grueling summer in the Catskills?”

  She shook her head. “Things are different here, Joss. That was a wild environment, out in nature, where you have to hide, move, search in a certain way. This is an urban environment. They’re two completely different approaches.”

  Great. Joss’s shoulders slumped some. Back to square one. Back to makeup application and not knowing what the hell he was doing.

  Ash patted him roughly on the arm. “Don’t get so worked up about it, kid. It’s easier in an urban environment. No mascara required.”

  Paty gawked. “I never made him put on mascara!”

  That made Joss smirk, but he was still worried. How was he supposed to hide from vampires in a place with few trees, and track them on concrete sidewalks? It felt like everything that he had learned last year hadn’t prepared him for this scenario at all. He couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at having to, basically, start over.

  Ash met his eyes, and even though he’d looked angry at what Abraham had revealed to them about Joss taking money to kill a vampire, there was kindness in his gaze now. Understanding, even. “The crowds are your friends. Blend in with them. The vampires will see you, but they’ll care less about a skinny kid who’s surrounded by people than one who’s not. Stay out of empty alleys and places you’ll likely find yourself alone. That makes you an easy target, which is the last thing you want.”

  Paty nodded in agreement. “Dress in dark colors. Bright colors draw attention, and you don’t want to stand out in any way. The key in an urban environment—as any environment—is to blend in with the background. The background in a place like New York is busy streets and bustling places.”

  “And that,” Ash remarked as he stepped onto the street, “is all you need to know.”

  Paty looked from Ash to Joss, a worried crease on her forehead. “Ash . . . what about the kid? We can’t just leave him to his own devices. I mean, we’re tracking some of the most powerful vampires in the world, here. And he’s barely out of the ninth grade.”

  Midstreet, Ash turned back and smiled. “I don’t see a kid. I only see a Slayer.”

  Paty released a frustrated sigh. “Be back here by seven tonight, Joss. And whatever you do, don’t engage any vamps you come across. Evade and get your butt back here to report. Remember: reconnaissance and planning before action. If you want to live, that is.”

  A proud smile curled Joss’s lips as he moved down the sidewalk, not knowing where he was headed, exactly, confidence aided his stride. Live? Yes. He wanted to live. He was a Slayer. And nothing and no one could change that.

  7

  RECONNAISSANCE

  Abraham had been very clear in his instructions to Ash, Paty, and Joss: do as much reconnaissance as they could before the sun set. Get done and get home before the shadows stretch. As the sun was the vampires’ enemy, so it was the Slayers’ greatest ally. They had to get out, learn what they could about the vampire leaders, and get back to home base before New York City transformed into Vampire City.

  New York, it seemed, was not a place to take unnecessary risks when it came to vampires. It was a common area for the beasts, and once the sun had set, no one was really safe. Especially not Slayers.

  Joss moved down the street, his nerves jumping at the idea of navigating Manhattan on his own, let alone encountering vampires. He’d studied a map of Manhattan the entire flight here, and had Internet access on his phone, but none of that could set his nerves at ease. The fact remained that he was still a fourteen-year-old boy in an unfamiliar city, full of a million and a half people—some of whom had fangs.

  He took a second to get his bearings, wishing all the while that he could sneak back into the house and get his stake—an impossibility, what with Abraham on high alert and none of the Slayers realizing that Joss already had one. It was a strange thing, the idea of being on such a serious mission, armed with a dangerous weapon, headed for one of the largest toy stores on the planet. But Toys “” Us in Times Square was one of Em’s usual hangouts, so that was precisely where Joss was headed . . . once he consulted his map, of course.

  He remembered the cab passing through Midtown on the way from LaGuardia, and once he figured out which way was north, he started walking. It took him about a half hour, but it wasn’t long before he was standing in a crowd of people, wondering where on earth Times Square could possibly be. Only then did he lift his gaze and realize that he was standing at its center. Part of him—the part that was just a simple teenage boy—marveled at the enormous neon signs, bright even during the day, and the tourist in him wanted very much to visit the Hershey store and a few of the shops he passed. But Joss pushed that part deep down inside of him and focused on what he’d come here to find: vampires.

  It was a strange thing that one of the oldest vampires in existence preferred to hang out at a child’s toy store. Did vampires appreciate toys in the same wa
y that humans did? Did they really appreciate anything other than blood? He wasn’t so sure. And he doubted very much that there were many vampires in Midtown. It was such a busy place, full of humans who could see them, could see what they were trying to do. Seemed like an easy place for a vamp to get caught. He imagined vampires would visit the area and then get out quickly, like a buffet of tasty food. He wondered briefly if Vlad had ever been to Times Square before—or Sirus, who he’d tried hard not to think of since the day Joss had found blood bags in his refrigerator, the day Joss realized that Sirus was a vampire. He couldn’t think about his old friend, couldn’t think about the explosion he’d caused that had killed him. And he certainly couldn’t think about Kat and the way that things had been left between them. It hurt too much, and he’d had enough pain to deal with without dredging up something that he had no control over. Someday, he had no doubt, Kat would come for him, and for vengeance for her dead father. But until she did, he had to push her out of his mind and focus on the task at hand. Responding to her texts, acknowledging her in any way was just inviting her into his life. He had to ignore her, to focus on what he was doing. And that meant learning all he could about the serial killer that the Society had tasked him with destroying.

  He stopped people inside the store—a few employees, but mostly fellow shoppers—and showed them Em’s picture, but no one had seen her. Or at least, no one was admitting to having seen her. He stepped outside and glanced around, marveling at all of the people, but sighing just the same. As entertaining as Times Square was, Joss was here on business. His next stop was the strange little antique store called Obscura—that, according to his map, was much closer to the Slayer brownstone. It was practically on its doorstep, at only seven blocks away.

  Joss grumbled under his breath. This meant another half-hour walk back to the brownstone. He should have planned better. Just when he was sure he had studied the map of Manhattan well enough, he’d get all turned around again and waste time. Next time, he swore, he’d do better.

  As he walked, he thought about how enormous Manhattan was. There was too much ground, too many buildings, too many small places in between and underneath for one Slayer to cover in a single day. It would take Joss years to search it all. And that was just Midtown. And it was also working under the assumption that the killer that he was looking for wouldn’t be moving around all that much—a hugely stupid assumption, at that. As if a bloodthirsty monster was just going to sit around and wait for a Slayer to find it. Highly, highly doubtful.

  His phone buzzed and, with some reluctance, Joss withdrew it from his pocket. He wasn’t certain why he felt the compelling need to read Kat’s messages, but he did. Even though they were threatening, with an undertone of sadness, he found them comforting. He missed her, after all. As sick and stupid as it was, he missed having Kat as a friend. She’d been the only friend, besides the Slayers, who hadn’t been related to him, or turned out to be a monster.

  He flipped it open and read. YOUR MOTHER IS VERY PRETTY. SHE MISSES YOU, YOU KNOW.—K

  His throat dried instantly. His heart picked up its pace. How did she know what his mom looked like, or anything else about her? What was she doing, if she was where Joss thought she might be?

  Reluctantly, he typed in a message and hit send. ARE YOU AT MY HOUSE, KAT?

  There was a brief pause. FRIGHTENING, ISN’T IT? TO THINK THAT SOMEONE COULD BE SO CLOSE TO HARMING THOSE YOU CARE ABOUT? YES. I WAS AT YOUR HOUSE. SORRY I MISSED YOU.—K

  He hurried to send another message, promising himself it would be his last. COME AND GET ME, KAT. IF IT’S ME YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH, THEN COME AND GET ME. I’M WAITING FOR YOU. YOU JUST HAVE TO FIND ME FIRST.

  Joss hit send, pocketed his phone, and moved down Seventh Avenue at the same pace as many of the tourists, pausing every few minutes to survey his surroundings. It’s not like it made him stick out or anything—hundreds of tourists were doing the same thing, only they were pointing up at the buildings or holding up their cameras, not caring that people behind them were just trying to walk. It was annoying, but it really did make it easier for Joss to blend in, and it gave him time to get a good look around and see if there were any noticeable signs of vampiric infiltration. But all Joss could see when he stopped and looked all around were tourists and frustrated-looking people behind those tourists.

  Joss continued down Seventh Avenue and took a right on Fourteenth Street. The sounds had changed since he’d wandered away from Times Square. It was already quieter, already more pleasant, less busy. The street still had tons of people on it, but no one was looking aggravated because someone in front of them just couldn’t move another step without snapping a picture of the Coca-Cola sign. There were a couple of street vendors, some businessmen, two young mothers pushing strollers that held tiny babies, and people that Joss was certain he’d forget the moment that they passed. The smell of falafel cooking on one of the food carts made Joss’s stomach rumble, but he resisted the urge to stop and buy a snack. After all, he wasn’t on vacation. He was doing reconnaissance. He was supposed to be on the lookout for any sign of Em or the serial killer, not tasting yummy street food.

  The problem was, he was finding a lot more street food than vampires.

  A woman in a crisp purple suit walked by, and as she did, she smiled at Joss. The look in her eyes seemed off, as if her smile hadn’t quite reached her eyes and she knew it. As he continued down the street, he glanced over his shoulder. The woman had stopped walking and turned around, her eyes locked on Joss. His stomach did a flip-flop, but he wasn’t sure what to make of it. She wasn’t glaring at him or anything, or even making her way toward him, but for some reason, Joss felt oddly threatened by her presence.

  Then his eyes scanned her face, her body, and Joss knew what was going on, and why he felt like this woman despised him, even though they had never met before. She was pale—paler than she appeared to be. He could make out the line of tan foundation on her neck, covering up just how pale she really was. And something in her eyes reminded him of a show that he’d recently watched on the Discovery Channel—one that featured lionesses hunting. She looked hungry. She looked fierce. She was a vampire, and Joss was completely unarmed.

  The corner of her mouth trembled a bit in satisfaction, as if she could see the acknowledgment on his face. She couldn’t, though. Joss had become a talented actor in recent months, so clearly there was something more to her reaction, something solid in her mind. An affirmation that could only be brought on by knowing precisely what he was thinking. It was as if she was reading his thoughts, like pages in a book. And something in those pages had amused her.

  Joss didn’t want to turn away, didn’t really want to move in any way. All he could picture was a lioness waiting for her prey to make a sudden movement, and then leaping on it, killing it. He tried to push the image from his mind, but it refused to budge. As did the looming knowledge that Joss’s stake remained packed in his suitcase back at their base of operations.

  At that thought, her lips twisted into a grin. She was reading his thoughts. Abraham had taught him that much last summer. Only he hadn’t taught Joss any way to block a vampire’s telepathic ability. Maybe, Joss thought, because there was no way to do so. The evil glint in her eye said she knew that he was a Slayer. An unarmed Slayer. The upper hand in this confrontation belonged absolutely to her.

  Joss mulled over his options for a moment. He was on a street with people, but the population was quickly thinning. Continuing this trek would likely lead him to a place where he’d be completely alone with the vampire woman. At least . . . if he was right about his map directions. He was feeling foolish, and more than a little bit lost. On paper, New York didn’t look this big. It was very different in real life.

  He thought it was possible that he was heading in the direction of Washington Square Park, but his confidence was suffering a bit. And even if he was right, to do so, he’d have to walk directly past her—something that sent his nerves jumping like crazy
. He didn’t want to go anywhere near her. What he really wanted to do was run.

  Joss furrowed his brow. Run? That hadn’t been his thought. He didn’t run when he was frightened. He never had—not since he was ten years old. He buckled down and faced what he was frightened of—except in his dreams, except when it was Cecile who was chasing him. That thought, that panicky suggestion that he should take off down the street in terror, hadn’t come from his mind at all, and yet he could still hear echoes of it whispering from the far corners of his brain. Run! Ruuuuuuuuun!

  Narrowing his eyes at the woman, Joss realized that the thought was coming from her. She had, somehow and against all reason, put the thought into his mind, and he realized with anger that a person who was less in touch with their usual selves might believe that thought to be theirs. She was capable of mind control, of all things. It both horrified and intrigued him.

  It also reminded him of a moment he’d shared with Vlad right before he’d staked him. Inside his mind, he’d distinctly heard the words StakeVladStake VladStakeVlad . . . but had they been his thoughts, or something put there by someone—something—else? By D’Ablo, maybe?

  No. Of course not. He was just having a moment of self-doubt. He’d gone to Bathory to stake a vampire. He was just second-guessing those actions now, because the vampire had tricked him into believing they were friends.

  Clenching his fists at his sides, Joss strode with a confident step toward the vampire woman. A look of intrigue passed over her features as he approached, but she said nothing. As Joss passed her by, he muttered, “Nice try, bloodsucker.”

  He walked by, keeping his stride as certain as he was able, and as he turned back onto Seventh, he glanced in her direction. Only she wasn’t alone anymore. Two more vampires stood at her sides, bookending her. They were both male, but one was tall and lanky, the other short and with a stocky build. And all three of them were watching Joss with a noted hunger in their eyes.