A Blood Seduction (Vamp City #1)(36)

"And you?"

"I long ago swore an oath of loyalty to Cristoff."

At the corner, they turned right, heading north. "Where exactly is this kovena?"

"Gonzaga Castle is only a few blocks."

"A castle? In D.C.?"

"Not D.C."

"Right." Unlike last night, the light was back, though so dim there was no color anywhere, just shades of gray. Her scientist's brain rejected the possibility that such a thing was possible. When she looked up at the sky, she saw clouds, gray smudges against the grayer sky. It made no sense. Magic. "This place shouldn't be possible," she murmured, then turned to him. "Do you really like living someplace so . . . dead?"

He grinned at her, making her stomach flip. "It is the perfect place for vampires, is it not? No sun, no need to hide for fear of detection by the far more numerous human race. Vamp City was promoted as a utopia, cara. And in many ways, it still is. Where else can vampires hold horse races and soccer matches, hunts and other games at any time, day or night, free to use our full range of abilities, free to feed on the humans in our midst without fear of reprisal or discovery? Without fear of the sun? We are free to be ourselves here, as we are nowhere else."

"I suppose it does sound kind of perfect from a vampire's point of view. But if it's so great, why do . . . did . . . some of you live in the real world, too?"

"Personally, I am fond of modern conveniences. And I have many investments to look after."

"You're wealthy."

"Only a fool or a layabout would not be after six hundred years."

As they crossed the next street, the buildings all but disappeared, nothing left but foundations. "What happened here?"

"Fire. We lost several blocks before we were able to contain it. It happened decades ago."

No volunteer all-vampire fire department, she supposed, which was probably too bad. As fast as they moved, with the right equipment, they could probably put out a fire in seconds.

"How many vampires live here?"

He glanced at her with amusement. "You are full of questions this morning, cara."

"I'm a scientist. I'm always full of questions. Do you mind answering them?"

His response was a little late in coming and not as enthusiastic as she might have liked. But he shrugged. "There are roughly four hundred vampires divided into nine kovenas. Most prefer to live in the strongholds though some prefer their own abodes."

"Like you."

"Like me." He pulled something out of his pocket and held it out to her. "Would you like one?"

"What is it?" The silvery wrapper shone in the low light. "SweetTarts?" she asked incredulously.

"I have a weakness for them."

She reached for the roll and pulled off the top candy, popping it into her mouth, enjoying the explosion of tart green apple. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He placed one of the candies into his own mouth and pushed the roll back into his pocket.

When they were past the Treasury Building, Quinn glanced left, drawn to the sight of the White House, standing like a once-beautiful woman, now age-ravaged and graying, and very, very alone. "I'm surprised no one moved into the White House. It would have been fully furnished."

"It was. And we did. For nearly a hundred years it was my master's stronghold."

She looked at him in surprise. "What happened?"

"Time and neglect. The president's mansion, as it was known back then, was built of sandstone. Without proper maintenance, sandstone slowly turns to mud."

"But the real White House hasn't disintegrated."

"It is painted regularly. And it underwent a full reconstruction in the early 1950s, when it was discovered to be in imminent danger of collapse."

"I didn't know that."

"You weren't around at the time." A lilt of humor lifted his voice.

"So is that when you decided you needed to move?"

"Five years prior, the ceiling over the kitchens in our version collapsed. The deterioration here had been more swift, but then we've never maintained our properties with the same vigilance as the humans."

"Your house seems to be in great shape."

"It is."

"Because you care about it."

"I do."

A distant scream broke the stillness up ahead. Quinn tensed. She could just make out what appeared to be a walled compound beyond the derelict properties making up the next block. The sound of classical piano music carried on the air, along with voices and a peal of laughter.

"Is that where we're going?" she asked warily.

"It is." As they rounded the corner, the compound came into full view. The walls were made of stone and were at least twenty feet high, all but obscuring the large house within. "Is this it, the castle?" She grunted. "Calling it a castle might be pushing it a bit."

They followed the wall, approaching a pair of huge, black, iron gates with a design of intricate swirls. When they were finally upon them, she got her first glimpse of the mansion inside. And it was huge. Maybe castle wasn't a bad name for it after all.

Just inside the gates stood two guards, dressed in what appeared to be some kind of eighteenth-or nineteenth-century military uniform, swords strapped to their backs.