“I came ahead as you bid me,” she murmured, the night wind picking up her voice and tossing it. Her face looked oddly dark.

“Pam, step into the light,” I said.

She did, though certainly she was not obliged to obey me.

The darkness under Pam’s white skin was the result of a beating. Vampires don’t bruise exactly like we do, and they heal quickly—but when they’ve been hit hard, you can tell it for a little while. “What happened to you?” Eric asked. His voice was completely empty, which I knew was an awfully bad thing.

“I told the door guards that I needed to come in to make sure Victor knew you were arriving. An excuse to make sure that the interior was secure.”

“They prevented you.”

“Yes.”

A little breeze had sprung up, dancing the night air across the smelly parking lot. The breeze picked up my hair and blew it around my face. Eric had his tied at the nape of his neck, but Pam reached up to hold hers back. Eric had wished Victor dead for months, and I was sorry to say I felt the same. It wasn’t only Eric’s worry and anger that I was channeling; I myself understood how much better life would be for us if Victor was gone.

I’d come so far from what I’d been. At moments like this I was both sad and relieved that I could think about Victor’s death not only without qualms, but with positive zeal. My determination to survive, and to ensure the survival of those I loved, was stronger than the religion I’d always held so dear.

“We have to go in, or they’ll send someone after us,” Eric said finally, and we walked to the main door in silence. All we needed was a badass theme song playing in the background: something ominous and cool, with a lot of drums, to indicate “The Visiting Vampires and Their Human Sidekick Walk into a Trap.” However, the club’s music was out of synch with our little drama—“Hips Don’t Lie” was not exactly badass music.

We passed a bearded man hosing down the gravel close to the door. I could still spot dark patches of blood. Pam snorted. “Not mine,” she muttered.

The vampire on duty at the door was a sturdy brunette wearing a studded leather collar and a leather bustier, with a tutu (I swear to God) and motorcycle boots. Only the frilly skirt looked out of character.

“Sheriff Eric,” she said in heavily accented English. “I am Ana Lyudmila. I welcome you to Vampire’s Kiss.” She didn’t even glance at Pam, much less me. I pretty much expected her to ignore me, but her disregard of Pam was an insult, especially since Pam had already had an encounter with the club personnel. This behavior was the kind of trigger that could send Pam over the edge, which I figured might be the plan. If Pam went ballistic, the new vamps would have a legitimate reason to kill her. The target on Eric’s back would assume large proportions.