I took a short cut down the alley. The moon was full, the night was late, and I was alone. None of these things worried me.

  There were things in the night, and in being alone, that would have made me tremble had I not known them so intimately. Things that still gave me shivers in spite of, and because of, my knowing them so well.

  My lover waited for me in the alley but, by the time I reached where she was to meet me, she was dead. I saw the blood, one of her shoes flung carelessly on the ground, and a strip of her dress caught on the edge of a fire escape two floors up.

  I remember climbing the fire escape stairs, bile a cold lump in my throat, and my heart hammering in dismay as I retrieved the scrap of dress. My lover had planned a night of ‘pleasure untamed’ judging by the sequined green velvet she had worn.

  I looked down from the fire escape at the shoe and the blood spray on the wall and alley floor, and shivered. Somehow the secrets of the dark didn’t seem so safe anymore.

  Nicola hadn’t known them. I hadn’t had time to tell her, had been sworn against telling by the Lady herself. I had sworn on pain of...something worse than death.

  Then, as I climbed back down to the shoe, clutching the scrap of velvet in my hand, I remember saying over and over to myself, “But I didn’t tell her. I didn’t.”

  I remember, too, the velvet mockery in the laughter that greeted me as I picked up Nicola’s shoe.

  “You don’t have to, now,” it teased. “She knows all about us, now.”

  I remember screaming my denial at it, and drawing the silver length of the stiletto I carried holstered at my thigh. The air whispered in a darkened corner and I leapt toward it, the stiletto’s blade winking in the moonlight.

  Again, laughter rippled out of the dark, and an eddy of night mist drifted away at my feet. With a sob, I struck at the mist, the silver blade causing it to hiss with rage.

  Suddenly, I was not facing mist any more, but a man. He was handsome by anyone’s standards. I wondered if Nicola had found him so, but I knew she would not have betrayed me, that way. He was quick, as well.

  One hand reached for my throat. Not quick enough. I rammed the stiletto home, again, making him recoil as the silver burned his flesh.

  I saw his eyes narrow and knew that, this time, he was truly enraged. Instead of the deadly fear I should have felt, I had only bitter joy. I jabbed viciously at his chest, but suddenly, he glanced beyond me, toward the alley mouth, and he was no longer before me.

  “You are lucky to be under such protection,” he growled, though I could no longer see him.

  The wind whispered around me, and I knew he was gone. I looked toward the end of the alley and saw nothing. Nevertheless, I had the feeling I was not alone, although whoever accompanied me did not show themselves, and I did not have the spirit to look for them.

  I had to report Nicola missing. There was nothing else I could do.

  I remembered the sound of the vampire’s laughter, teasing me in the alley, and knew there was one thing more I could try: the Lady.

  I hesitated even as I thought it. The Lady was known for her reluctance toward outsiders like myself. What if Nicola’s death—and she was dead, I was sure of it—had been a ploy to get rid of me? I doubted it; the Lady would not have soiled her own hands to achieve such ends, and I doubted she would risk her reputation by having someone else do it.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I decided to begin the hunt for Nicola’s killer myself. I would report Nicola’s disappearance to the usual authorities, and then go about my usual business as though I grieved. That way no one could realize I had started a hunt, and no one would be forewarned. My vengeance, when it came, would be swift and without mercy.

  The police told me they would do their best, but I knew they wouldn’t. The voice on the end of the line seemed to suggest I was a fool for not waiting longer before declaring my ‘friend’ missing.

  I shrugged. They probably received hundreds of calls a week that were genuine cases of a ‘missing’ lover, actually being that lover dallying with another. They still had no right to judge that of Nicola.

  It was of no consequence. I took the stiletto from its sheath, and inspected the blade. A careful lick with the wet-stone saw it ready to face my prey, again. I had only to collect the other weapons of my arsenal and the hunt could begin in earnest.

  Someone knocked at my door. I glanced at the clock. Eleven. Late enough for this not to be a social call. I made sure my defenses were ready before lifting the security chain.

  The woman on my apartment’s threshold was stunning to look at. Nicola, she was not.

  “Yes?” I said.

  “May I come in?” she asked.

  I opened the door wider, and stepped out into the corridor.

  “I think not,” I replied.

  The woman sighed, and I felt a brief urge to trace my fingers over the ivory smooth skin of her cheek, just like I used to do with Nicola. Nicola!

  The stiletto was in my hand almost before I could think, and the woman was no longer before me. I’d forgotten they could move so fast. Even as I spun to face her. I knew I’d be too slow. Another part of my mind wondered if her agility applied elsewhere.

  Her boot met the wrist of the hand holding the dagger, and the blade glittered out of my grip, and clattered to the floor on the other side of hall. Knowing it would do me no good, I swung my fist, anyway.

  She caught it with one hand, using her free arm to pin me against the wall, and slamming her body against my own to stop me struggling.

  “Invite me in, Denie,” she snarled. “You know I can’t enter any other way.”

  “Why should I?” I gasped, trying to wriggle out from between her and the wall.

  She tilted her head back, and regarded me with startlingly green eyes.

  “Because you need me more than you know,” she replied, “And because Nicola meant something to me as well.”

  I stopped wriggling, stunned by her admission.

  “Nicola?” I squeaked.

  She looked up and down the corridor outside my flat.

  “Yes, Nicola,” she hissed. “Now can we go inside where it’s safe?”

  Her name was Samantha. She and Nicola had been lovers, had still been lovers, when Nicola had started seeing me. I felt both jealous of, and sorry for, her at the same time.

  We drank coffee together at the kitchen table, and I told her what had happened in the alley. When I related his parting words to me, Samantha looked puzzled, then affronted.

  “Who else was she seeing?” she snarled, more to herself than to me, though I shared the same consternation.

  “More than you would care to know.”

  We both spun in startlement to face the owner of the new voice. Samantha became even paler than she already was, but I felt more angry than afraid.

  “I thought you had to be invited before you had entry to a home,” I snapped.

  The newcomer smiled condescendingly at us.

  “I have been invited already,” she told me.

  “Nicola,” I groaned.

  “Nicola is dead,” the newcomer said, “And I would have my vengeance on her killer.”

  “You might stand a chance of achieving it,” I said, and sighed.

  They froze, then, the newcomer and Samantha. I sipped my coffee trying to hide my embarrassment at admitting that I might be incapable of avenging my lover’s death, then watched as they exchanged looks, communicating in a way not open to me. At last, Samantha turned to me.

  “The Lady says you may become as we are,” she said.

  Slowly, I lowered my coffee cup to the table. It had been this very thing she had threatened me with should I ever divulge her secret.

  “And what good would that do?” I asked, wearied by the events of the evening, and by the growing hollow inside my chest that was my grief for Nicola.

  “Trust us,” Samantha whispered, curling her fingers around my hand.

  The touch of her skin against my own sent a shiver racing through me. I wanted to pull away, to say I would have none of it so close to my own loss, but my eyes met hers, and I knew she did what she did with a purpose.