A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(19)

There was no screen, and she leaned out, peering with surprise at the tight crowd of structures, all of which appeared to be in good repair, unlike those she'd seen west of the White House. She could even see lights glowing here and there in some of the large structures back behind. Her eyes narrowed. It was a city block, she realized. Houses, or row houses, along the street fronts. While behind . . . what would they have had in the 1870s? Stables, probably. Maybe a cookhouse or washhouse? Servants' quarters? Whatever they were, this part of Vamp City was apparently occupied. Unfortunately, the occupants were almost certainly vampires.

Her fists clenched at the prospect of trying to escape when vampires could be anywhere. Do they sleep? She had no idea. And if they did, she couldn't begin to guess when. She'd yet to figure out the difference between day and night.

Peering down, she saw what appeared to be a large generator. Over the hum, she could make out other sounds - the cheering of a crowd in the distance that reminded her of the high-school football stadium about a mile from her home when she was growing up.

A shout sounded closer, followed by laughter. A moment later, a man's scream of agony cut the night, stopping Quinn's breath.

Did she really want to venture out into this place alone? No. If she were perfectly honest, the answer was no. The thought of what awaited her terrified her. The vampire had said her blood tasted sweet. If another vamp caught her, she might not survive. But staying here wasn't an alternative. She had to find Zack.

Slipping back between the curtains, Quinn headed for the bed, intending to pull off the linens, then glanced at the dresser and decided to do a quick search of the room first. Pulling open the bottom dresser drawer, she smiled. Sheets, blankets, towels. She grabbed several white, crisp, cotton sheets, opened them wide, then twisted them into ropes as she'd done too many times as a girl. Her stepmother, Angela, used to ground her for anything and everything. Most of the time, Quinn had taken the punishment and retired to her bedroom to do homework or read, but sometimes, especially as she got older, she'd slipped out of the house after her dad and Angela were asleep.

If not for Zack, she'd probably have run away and never returned. What would she have done without him? He'd been the keeper of her heart and the protector of her soul when they were growing up, the only one who'd stood by her, even if it was only to sneak into her room and play GameBoy on the rug while she did her homework after she'd been grounded. It used to drive Angela crazy that she couldn't keep the son she adored away from the stepdaughter she loathed. But she'd never succeeded. Zack had always known when Quinn was angry or hurting, which had been all too often. He'd always come. Always. A silent presence offering unquestioning love.

When it was time to choose a college, he'd told his parents he was moving to D.C. to live with his sister. The years apart had been hard on them both. Angela had been livid, but in the end, she'd been unable to deny her beloved son even that. And when Zack got accepted to George Washington University, Quinn, who'd been living near work in Bethesda, promptly rented an apartment in the heart of G.W.'s main campus. And they'd been living together ever since. Three years.

Now she'd lost him. Maybe even gotten him killed.

The thought twisted like a blade.

No, she couldn't think like that.

With the sheets knotted, she tied one end around the dresser leg and gave a hard tug. The heavy dresser didn't budge. Perfect. Nervously, she glanced at the window, then strode to the washstand and the tray of food. Quickly, she shoveled down a few bites of eggs and ate half of one of the rolls, then slid the knife into her back pocket. It was an eating utensil, not a weapon, but it was better than nothing.

She pulled on her socks and tennis shoes, which were sitting neatly against the wall, then grabbed the sheet rope and carried it to the window. Peering into the dim light, spying no one, she dropped it. The sheets hit the top of the generator with a thump.

Okay. She shook her hands at her side. Nerves were about to crawl out of her skin. I can do this.

Climbing over the sill, she gripped the rope between her legs, then lowered herself slowly and carefully. Sweat broke out all over her body. She began to shake, not with fear, but weakness. Since when was she too weak to climb down a sheet rope? She'd been doing it since she was thirteen!

But she knew the answer to that. Since she'd nearly been sucked dry three days ago. She'd felt fine, but clearly she wasn't fully recovered. Not at all. Holy hell, her muscles were turning to rubber. She started to slip, her arms beginning to shake so badly she feared she might not be able to hold on. Even her legs were beginning to feel nearly useless.

Sliding the rest of the way, uncontrolled, she landed on the generator with a dull thud, then sat there, out of breath, stunned, and dismayed. If she'd had the strength, she might have tried to climb back into the room and try again later, but there was no way in hell that was going to happen. She was committed, now. She was just going to have to go a little slower than she'd anticipated, that was all.

Pushing herself off the generator, she landed on her feet and swayed, her face feeling cold and clammy as she reached for the wall to steady herself. In a minute, she'd be fine.

The sound of footsteps coming at a hard, fast run had her pressing back against the brick. A moment later, a man rounded the corner and dashed across the vampire's backyard without a glance her way. He was shirtless, his hair long and dirty, his body gleaming with sweat and blood from the lash marks striping his back. Terror radiated from him with every movement, every racing step.