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Authors: DB Reynolds

Tags: #Vampires, #Romance, #Contemporary

BOOK: vampires in america 7 - Aden
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Chapter One
 

Six months later

SID GAZED AROUND the crowded ballroom, fighting against the urge to pinch herself. She’d done it. She was actually standing in the midst of the most powerful vampires on the North American continent while they decided who would be the next Midwestern Vampire Lord.

She’d be the first to admit that she didn’t know precisely what that meant, didn’t know the boundaries of the territory, or what powers such a vampire possessed. But what she did know was enough. The winner of this competition—and she wasn’t entirely clear on what sort of
competition
it was either—would rule Chicago. That meant he’d also be the one picking up the reins of the white slavery ring the old vampire lord, Klemens, had operated out of this city for nearly twenty years before his death. And that was something Sid did know about. She’d spent all the last year, and especially the six months since Janey’s death, researching and writing the stories about Chicago’s connection to sex trafficking.

Ostensibly, the series was for her hometown newspaper, the only piece of serious journalism in a paper that was better known for covering the high school basketball team’s pancake breakfast. The town was a distant suburb of Chicago, an upscale community that did its best to resemble Mayberry in everything except its property values and fashion sense. Her stories often motivated little old ladies to stop her on the street and chastise her for reporting on the kind of ugliness they’d moved to suburbia to get away from. Couldn’t she find something
nice
to write about? But Sid didn’t care about nice. She wanted to make a difference, and since her father owned the paper
 . . .
well, she might hate the idea of riding on the coattails of her daddy’s money, but if that was the only way she could get the story told, then that’s what she’d do.

Because Chicago wasn’t simply a convenient marketplace for slaves. When it came to this particular trafficking ring, the city was
the
transit hub to the rest of the United States. Shut the Chicago operation down, take out the vampires operating it, and you would disrupt the entire supply chain. And that’s what Sid wanted, to shut them down. She wasn’t naïve enough to believe that would end the problem. As long as there was a demand for sex slaves, someone would come up with the supply. But shutting down the Chicago pipeline would deal a major blow to the traffickers, and that was a good first step.

It was also a very dangerous step. The traffickers would do almost anything to stop her from exposing their disgusting, but extremely profitable, business. She’d learned that the hard way, although it was Janey who’d paid the price. Janey had been one of those slaves, but she’d been luckier than most. When her owner had decided he had no more use for her, he’d given her a hundred dollars and dropped her on a corner.

But Janey hadn’t stayed on that corner. She’d found a shelter and a program. She’d gotten off the streets, earned her GRE, and was working as a waitress when Sid happened to stop at her diner one night. And when she found out what Sid was investigating, Janey had offered to help. Which had gotten her dead.

The slavers hadn’t dared go after Sid directly; her father had too much money, too much influence. Sid’s death would have brought in the police and the press, would have triggered a real investigation. But not Janey’s. Her death had gone all but unnoticed by everyone except Sid.

And while Janey’s death hadn’t changed Sid’s mind about exposing the ugly truth, it had convinced her to try going to the cops. She’d called in every favor, had thrown her family name around, but eventually even the cops had stopped taking her calls and wouldn’t return her messages. They had more important crimes to solve, crimes with American victims, monied victims, high-profile victims. The women caught in the slavers’ web were nameless, faceless foreigners, and by the time they arrived in the US, most were hopelessly addicted to heroin. Their story was lumped in and buried beneath the overall problem of drugs, and nobody cared about one more heroin addict or how she got that way.

What Sid needed was a blowout story, something no one could ignore, and the vampire angle was it. She was determined to do whatever it took to get close to the big honcho vampire, to get her story from the inside. Vampires needed blood, and Sid had plenty of blood. She just needed to meet the right vampire. Past experience had taught her she could draw the attention of any man she set her sights on, and a male vampire couldn’t be all that different from any other male, right?

A bit of research had led her to Claudia Dresner, a sociology professor at University of Illinois who was writing a book on vampires. Dresner had tenure and so couldn’t be fired for her choice of subject, but that didn’t mean her colleagues respected her work. Sid had provided a sympathetic and interested ear for the professor and in the process gleaned a wealth of information on vampires, including the existence of something called a blood house, a place where vamp groupies and wannabes went to mingle with the real thing and offer blood on the hoof, so to speak. There were several in a city the size of Chicago, but Professor Dresner had taken her to the one closest to the center of power, a club where she’d insisted Sid could meet the kind of vampire who could take her to the top. Dresner had only gone with her that first time, but she’d pointed out a couple of possibilities. Not the big guys themselves, but vampires who could get her access to the big guys, the vampires powerful enough to go all the way to the top.

Sid had been an excellent pupil, and her reward was the vampire standing next to her, the one who’d wrangled an invite for her to this highest of vampire galas. His name was Travis, and if she’d met him under any other circumstances, she’d have seen nothing more than an easy-going surfer dude who had somehow been displaced to Chicago. Just over six feet, he had the sleek, muscled body of a swimmer, with the sharp edges of a tribal tattoo visible below the right sleeve of the black T-shirt he wore like a uniform. And underneath the hustler attitude, he was a surprisingly sweet guy.

“Exciting, huh, babe?” Trav was standing too close, his body constantly brushing her ass as he fidgeted from side to side. If anyone was excited, it was Travis. He was like a little kid about to meet his superhero for the first time. Either that or a dog with a juicy piece of meat that he worried would be stolen by a much bigger dog at any moment. Unfortunately, that made Sid the meat. And she wasn’t anyone’s dinner, not yet anyway. She’d managed to avoid actually letting Travis drink from her, although she’d have been willing to go that far, if necessary. And she had a feeling that the next time she met him, Trav would be asking for payment for getting her in here tonight, but for now, at least, she was off the menu.

“So,” Sid said, taking a sidling step away from Trav’s nervous twitching. “Any idea who’s going to win this thing?”

“Sure, no question. See the big guy over there?”

“I see a lot of big guys, Trav. Just point him out for me.”

“Wow, great idea! These guys are pumping adrenaline like prize fighters on cocaine, but I’ll just stick my finger at the baddest guy in the room for you. You can scoop up my ashes later.”

“Don’t be dramatic. Can you at least give me a clue?”

“He’s the one standing alone over there, no drink in his hand.”

Sid scanned the crowd in the direction Travis indicated and huffed an exasperated breath. For fuck’s sake,
most
of the vampires here were standing alone. According to Travis in his less dramatic moments, tonight was about the contenders displaying their power, kind of like animals giving off
aggression
pheromones during the rut or something. She figured it wouldn’t be long before one of these guys pulled out his dick and start spraying everything in sight. The mental image had her snickering, but her laughter died in her throat when her gaze fell on
him
.

Oh, yeah. Trav had been right. He
was
standing alone. But his aloneness was more than a physical separation, it was an invisible wall that kept anyone from getting too close, a force field of
get the fuck away from me
.

“What’s his name?” she whispered, afraid he could hear her somehow from across the room.

“Aden,” Travis supplied, and his voice was quiet and drenched in awe
 . . .
and something else. Worship?

“Do you know him?”

He nodded. “Yeah. I mean, we’re not buds or anything, but
 . . .
he’s the one.”

“I want to meet him.”

Travis laughed. “Right.”

“I’m serious,” she said, tugging on his hand. “Introduce me.”

He shrugged. “Introduce yourself, babe. Just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

Sid tightened her hold on Travis’s fingers, though whether it was to keep herself from moving or to drag him along with, she couldn’t have said. Either way, it didn’t matter, because Trav had a mind of his own, and he was a vampire. He wasn’t going anywhere he didn’t want to. He shook his fingers free.

“You’re on your own for this one,” he said, “but take a tip from someone who knows
 . . .
be polite.”

She scowled. “I’m always polite.”

“Sid, what’s your gut telling you right now? Be honest.”

She glanced over at him in surprise. This was more serious than she’d ever seen Travis, and it made her swallow the clever response on her tongue and go with the truth instead. “My gut’s afraid of him.”

“You’ve got a smart gut. Talk to him if you want, but listen to your gut and watch what you say.”

Sid flattened her lips in irritation, then quickly rolled them together, not wanting to ruin her lipstick. She hated using her looks instead of her brain, but first impressions mattered, and she’d use every weapon she had. She found herself considering a dash to the restroom for a quick makeup check and discarded that idea, seeing it for the act of cowardice it was. This was what she’d been waiting for, what she’d spent the last several months working toward, a chance to meet someone who could make a difference. And if this Aden really was going to be the next vampire lord, she couldn’t afford to blow it.

She sucked in a breath and started across the room. She took a roundabout path, moving from cluster to cluster of gala goers, both human and vampire, stopping for a few minutes and pretending to join in the conversation, then moving on. And all the while she kept an eye on her target, studying him.

As she’d told Trav, there were a lot of big guys in the room. And not just big, but unusually good-looking. Professor Dresner had offered the theory that what she called the
vampire symbiote
—the thing that turned an ordinary human into a vampire—worked a lot of physiological changes on its host for its own survival. The most obvious changes were the new vampire’s need for blood and an aversion to sunlight. But there were additional, more subtle, changes that happened over time, things that made vampires better hunters, made them more attractive to their human prey. The professor had suggested that vamps eventually became better looking, because the longer they were a vampire, the more time the symbiote had to work on them.

Sid didn’t know if that was true or not, but she did know that there were a hell of a lot of gorgeous men here. Far too many for it to be random.

But even in a room filled with handsome men, Aden stood out. He was beautiful and wild, an untamed beast who’d donned a tuxedo for the night. It was a thin veneer of civility, and one that barely managed to contain his savagery as he scanned the gathering with a predator’s gaze, a single breath away from ripping out someone’s throat.

She glanced away, then back, and caught him watching her. She shifted her gaze quickly, but not before she saw that he hadn’t bothered to do the same. He stared at her unabashedly, his eyes so dark that at first she’d thought they were black. But then the light caught them just right, and she realized they were the deepest dark blue, with thick, black lashes that flirted with his sharp cheekbones on every lazy blink. His wavy hair was as black as his lashes, a little too long and curling above the stiff white collar of his formal shirt. He had a sexy mouth, full and soft-looking, but saved from pure sensuality by a touch of cruelty that tilted his lips into a small smile as he eyed her approach.

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