didn’t get together as often as they used to. But when they did, it was as if no time had passed at all, and they easily slipped into the banter of old friends.
Brenna lowered her voice. “Are you sure I don’t have lipstick on my teeth?”
“For the hundredth time, no,” Lily said with a dramatic sigh. “You look great, Bren. You’re well prepared for this. It’s not every day you get awarded a full-ride scholarship that allows you to attend medico school. Focus on your goal, not this current unpleasantness.”
Brenna had been working as a vampire medic, the equivalent of a human EMT, but her dream was to continue her medical training with the goal of becoming a physician. She wanted to treat and solve injuries and illnesses, not just put bandages on them.
“I’m a creature of habit, Lil. I don’t handle new and different very well.”
“Then I’d say you’re hosed, love.”
Brenna found her friend’s exasperated tone mildly reassuring, yet it did nothing to stop her racing pulse. No matter how many times she told herself she was ready for this speech, she was still a bundle of nerves. Was this what Jung had meant when he’d talked about dynamic opposition, two opposing forces colliding? Glancing around the elegant ballroom, she recognized a few faces from Seattle’s small vampire population, including several Council elders, and her heart thundered even louder in her ears.
“Gee, thanks, but—”
“Shush. You can put up with a little—” Lily hesitated as a dark-haired man rose from a nearby table when his name was called. He dodged the tables and chairs with the grace of a jungle cat. But just as quickly, she finished her thought. “—discomfort.”
It’d be good for Lily to hook up with someone, Brenna decided. Get her mind off things. As the man sauntered past their table, he touched the back of Lily’s chair, his gaze lingering on her bare shoulders. There was a time when a look like that would’ve meant the two of them would be hooking up before the night was over. But tonight Brenna wasn’t so sure.
Like most of their kind, her friend regarded her voracious sexual appetite as a natural way to channel excess aggression. Hunting humans for bloodsport was considered barbaric today—only Darkbloods, rogue vampires who lived on the fringe of their civilized society, believed otherwise.
Centuries ago, when the elders realized they could survive on only the occasional sip of blood combined with regular absorption of human energy, vampires had begun to live peacefully and in secret among the human population. But because vampires had learned to contain their need for blood, this excess aggression had to go somewhere, so their need for sex increased. Vampire-owned establishments often had private rooms where their patrons could engage in sexual activity. This elegant old estate was probably no exception, Brenna thought, remembering a bank of doors in the vestibule.
“He was totally checking you out,” she whispered.
“What?”
“That guy up there. Mr. Handsome. He was checking you out.”
Lily didn’t even look at the stage, just picked at her red-tipped nails. “Bren, I’m not ready for that. Not now.”
“I think it’d be good for you. I’m not talking commitment or anything. Just, you know, a distraction.” God knows she could use one.
Just over a year ago, Lily’s significant other had been presumed killed in a massive explosion when Guardians stormed a Darkblood facility where macabre experiments were being done on sweetbloods, humans with a rare blood type that was extremely addictive to vampires. He had worked undercover in the Darkblood Alliance for years, with Lily as his Agency contact. A few months later, Lily had discovered he hadn’t died after all. He just hadn’t wanted to be with her any longer. She’d taken his betrayal pretty hard and hadn’t fully been herself since.
“What about you, eh?” Lily’s Canadian accent seemed more noticeable when she was about to say something snarky. “Maybe you should sweep him into a dark corner and feel his…assets.”
“Ha. I’m too busy to be involved with someone right now.” The minute she said it, Brenna wished she could take the words back. Those were the exact words she’d used when she’d broken things off with the man she’d once loved. Though she’d been lying when she’d spoken them.
Before Lily could reply, Phillip Creighton, assistant to Mr. Westfalen, tapped a finger on the microphone. Westfalen himself sat on the stage in his wheelchair, a wool blanket covering his legs, and stared absently into space. A wealthy philanthropist who donated money to various vampire causes as well as a few human ones, he seemed nothing but a shell today, oblivious to the fanfare going on around him.
Brenna sighed wistfully, recalling how an elderly patient had once told her that living for centuries wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
“And our next scholarship recipient is Miss Brenna Stewart.”
She swallowed hard and stood, smoothing down the crimson silk of her evening gown.
“Knock ’em dead, Bren.”
“Thanks.” She managed to approach the stage as Mr. Creighton continued the introduction.
“Mr. Westfalen is pleased to bestow upon Miss Stewart the Westfalen Award of Excellence in order for her to begin medico training. Her goal is to open her own clinic here in the area in order to help Guardians who suffer regeneration setbacks like her father, Dutch Stewart—who, as we all know, was a very great man indeed.”
The room erupted in applause and Mr. Creighton held out his hand to her in gracious welcome. His words echoed in her mind as she moved toward the stage. Her father’s reputation was legendary in the community. One of the first Guardians to work out of the Seattle field office, he’d helped establish many of the policies and procedures still in use today. But during a raid on a Darkblood cell, he’d been stabbed with an unusual blade made from highly potent Mexican silver. Severely injured, he’d been unable to return to work and had died a few years later from his wounds. Knowing that the clapping was primarily because of him made things a bit more bearable.
She climbed the five steps to the stage, careful not to step on the hem of her gown. Although grateful for the award, she wished it didn’t involve all this attention. Working one on one with patients was much easier.
After limping through her acceptance speech without too many blunders, Brenna was relieved when it was finally over and everyone turned their attention to the next award recipient. When the last speaker had wrapped up and all the pictures were taken, she exited the ballroom, stepping through the French doors onto the terrace. Away from everyone, she was finally able to catch her breath again. She pulled out her cell phone. Her mom would be eager to hear how the ceremony had gone.
Great. No signal. She shoved the cell into her handbag. She’d have to make the call after they got back on the road.
“You’re welcome to use the house phone, Miss Stewart.”
Brenna jumped. She hadn’t heard Mr. Creighton approaching. His tone reminded her of the way people spoke in old Hollywood movies, their voices vaguely condescending and their accents quasi-British.
“Unfortunately, out here in the wilds at the base of the Cascade Mountains, cellular service is terribly lacking.”
“That’s okay, sir. I can make the call later.”
“Very well.” He turned and left.
How much longer should she stay? What was the protocol for these things? She had smiled for dozens of pictures and thanked old Mr. Westfalen even though she couldn’t be certain he’d understood her. She’d watched tonight as others had spoken to him; each time, he’d given the same blank smile while continually patting the head of a large German Shepherd guide dog who never left the side of his wheelchair. A former Council member from the old days, when the vampire governing body had still been called the Night Brethren, he had many esteemed guests in attendance tonight, which had only heightened