appeared black. He wore an ascot around his neck, but did not look at all dorky like Fred from Scooby-Doo. His was different. His spoke of another era. Another time. One from which pages this man, this creature, had stepped directly out of. Joss slipped the phone back into his pocket but remained standing. He couldn’t explain it, but he had an overwhelming sensation that this man, this creature, was not only a vampire, but the vampire that he’d been waiting for. With his eyes locked on his mark, Joss thought his target’s name—hoping that the creature was listening with its telepathy and would pick up on the single word that burned in his mind.
Boris.
Immediately, Boris turned his head toward Joss, and with a slight twitch in his smile, nodded. Joss waited a moment, then sat down again to wait. Boris approached the bar, saying his hellos as he moved. Clearly, this was a regular stop for him. The women lavished him with attention, and the bartender already knew what drink to have waiting once he got there. After several minutes of social pleasantries, Boris made his way back through the room and took the plush Queen Anne–style chair across from Joss, as if they were old friends. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
Joss shook his head, keeping his expression pleasant. He’d promised Stephen that he would try to reason with his friend, and Joss intended on keeping that promise. “No, thanks. The smell of lavender isn’t very appealing to me. Reminds me of bath salts.”
Boris chuckled and held his glass up to Joss in a toasting gesture before taking a sip. The contents were red, and Joss wondered if it were an effect of the lights, or the contents themselves. After Boris had swallowed, he swished the liquid slightly, watching his drink move about in the glass before speaking again. Joss did everything he could to keep his thoughts far away from the stake in his back belt loop. It was surprisingly easy. “Not many know my true name outside of Elysia. Would you mind telling me how you came about this privilege?”
Joss kept an eye on the other people in the room with his peripheral vision. He still didn’t trust that this wasn’t a vampire hangout. “I met a friend of yours at V Bar earlier today. Stephen? He told me.”
“V Bar.” Boris raised an eyebrow. “Why would a human who clearly has knowledge of Elysia choose to socialize in such a well-known vampire location? Unless you were somehow involved in the trial?”
Joss shook his head earnestly. “I wasn’t there for that.”
“So why were you there? Unless . . .” He widened his eyes for just a moment and then chuckled, taking another sip of the red concoction. Joss swallowed, straining to keep his thoughts away from his fear that Boris would discover that he was a Slayer before Joss was ready for him to. Then Boris set his half-empty glass on the table between them and spoke again. This time, Joss had the feeling that the words weren’t intended for Joss, but for Boris himself, perhaps to ease his mind. “But you’re too young to be a killer, now aren’t you, boy?”
Feeling slightly more at ease, Joss relaxed a bit, but stayed on high alert. Just in case Boris wasn’t above attacking and killing him in such a public space. After all, wasn’t that what the serial killer had been doing that had so upset both the Slayer Society and the vampires themselves? Joss pushed that thought away and met Boris’s gaze. “Stephen sent me to talk to you about something. He’s very concerned that his father and the other”—Joss swallowed the word vampires in case any other humans were listening—“the
others
will hurt you.”
Boris’s smile lost some of its honesty then. He shook his head, reaching again for his glass. Joss wondered if the glass acted like a kind of security blanket for him, or if Boris really needed a drink. “Oh, he needn’t be concerned with that.”
“He seems to think so.” But looking into Boris’s eyes, Joss
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