Chapter Nine

The waiting room at The Black Swan was deafeningly quiet compared to the main area of the club, but no less trendy. Large black leather sofas rested against the red walls, giving the entire room a dark, closed-in feeling despite how big the space really was. Abstract paintings hung on the walls here and there, and potted plants that looked like miniature palm trees stood in the lonely corners. The undersides of the arms on the oversized couches matched the cocobolo coffee table perfectly if one looked closely enough to see past the assortment of magazines scattered across the tabletop.

The only real sound was the faint pulse of music pumped into the room through small, black speakers on the ceiling. Rather than the pulsating rhythm of the club just beyond the door, this music was light and relaxing. Mixed with the gentle, artificial smell of flowers that something hidden in the room sprayed, it was rather calming. Though some of the songs from the 90’s were beginning to throw Amara for a loop. She never realized just how little she missed the Spice Girls.

Not that Christopher would notice as he picked up the beer bottle from the table and chugged his drink again nervously. He was starting to worry Amara. This was his second drink, and they were here on business.

“Do you really think you should be drinking?” Amara asked him in a harsh whisper. “What if we need to fight?”

“It’s just one,” Chris said lightly. “I just need to relax a little bit before we go in.”

“Relaxing is one thing,” Amara said sharply. “Getting a little buzzed is another. I don’t want to go in there and end up with you shooting me because you can’t see straight.”

When Christopher opened his mouth to retort, Stephanie cut him off.

“Can’t you two just get along for one damned minute? Give it a rest.”

It was hard to argue with Stephanie while she sat there and glared at the two. Her arm was still in a sling and a bandage around her wrist. She wasn’t really hurt that badly, but the doctors insisted on her taking a rest—or at least dressing her wounds. When they suggested that perhaps Stephanie should go back to the hotel to rest for the night, she refused. She was part of the team, and as much as Amara hated it, she had no intentions of going anywhere.

“I’m going outside for some air.” Amara huffed a complaint and grumbled as she got up and headed for the door.

* * * *

Stephanie closed her eyes and leaned back. They had waited there for nearly two hours. Whatever was killing these people could be out on the streets right that moment cutting up another victim. She didn’t really want to think about it when it came right down to things. Her mind didn’t give her much of a choice. The unpleasant visions invaded her peaceful thoughts like an army of fire ants, eating away at her pleasant attitude.

“Are you all right?” Christopher asked her. He had been watching over her carefully.

Stephanie looked over to him and nodded. “I’ll be fine. I’m just a little worn out and a little aggravated.”

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “Amara is just…”

“Hard to get along with.” Stephanie paused and sighed deeply. “I know.”

“How long have you two been partners?”

The girl looked up at the ceiling to think for a moment before she answered. “About two years.” She finally looked back down at Chris as she responded. “Nearly three. She’s never been thankful for me being around. At least not that she’s expressed.”

“I couldn’t deal with it if she were my partner all the time. Is she always like this?” Chris gave her a sympathetic look.

“What?” Stephanie asked with a dry laugh. “Argumentative? Disagreeable? Arrogant? Yeah, that’s Amara. She’s one of the top hunters for The Administration, and she knows it. She thinks it makes her better than everyone else.”

“It shouldn’t be something she’s that proud of. Just because she can kill better doesn’t make her the better person.”

Stephanie smiled softly at that. She hadn’t met many hunters who realized they were all just killing vampires in the end. That they would all die at one point or another.

“You’re not at all like that, are you, Chris? You seem very laid back. Are all the hunters where you’re from like you?”

“No. I’m really not. I just know where I stand.”

“But you’re at the top,” she said quickly, happy to point it out for him as if he hadn’t realized it for himself. “You’re number one, Chris. Doesn’t that mean anything to you? I know we’re all just killers, but to be number one at something, anything…it doesn’t it matter?”

He shook his head. “I’ve always been number one. For as long as I can remember. It doesn’t stop them from taking what you love most and using it against you. One step out of line. One note out of tune. Then, boom. You’re dead. At least you hope that you are. If they’re really angry with you, they put you in The Clinic.”

“The Clinic? That’s an Administrative branch, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. Crimson uses it too,” Christopher nodded quietly. “A little more left handedly, I think.”

Stephanie watched as the light slipped completely from Christopher’s eyes. Finally, it hit her. Something happened to him. Sure, she knew the stories: , that Christopher’s best friend ran off as a rogue hunter, plotted against the association they worked for. They killed him for it, but she suspected there was something more. Something in the way Christopher spoke, something in the way he went blank when he talked about it. The way the emotion drained away from his face made her think that something truly horrible happened to him. Something more than the average vampire hunter would experience. At least in The Administration.

“What happened to you, Chris?” she asked quietly. “Why are you so afraid to be here?”

Christopher shook his head and took another drink from his bottle before going on. “It isn’t anything you should worry your pretty little head about, Steph.”

“I want to know about you,” she said softly, touching his hand gently as she said it.

Chris looked back into her eyes for a long moment, then set the beer down on the table again, missing the coaster by a country mile.

“Alexander and I have an extensive history. I don’t want to go into detail. When I was younger, he stalked me. He tore apart my family, my friends, my life. The love of my life was taken away because of him. He’s always given me some leeway because of it. I don’t think he really meant for so many bad things to happen to me because of him. I think it was just part of a game that he lost control of.”

“What happened?” she prompted him, but he shook his head. Stephanie watched Chris with interest, hoping he’d tell her more.

“No, this really isn’t something I want to talk about.” His voice had gone quiet again. He leaned forward and got his bottle off the table. “It’s hard for me to talk about it at all, let alone here. I have to see him in a few minutes. I’m trying to get into the right mind set.”

“Drunk?” Stephanie asked him lightly.

Chris looked at the bottle and put it back down. “Not drunk, just…,” he paused, thinking of the right word, “relaxed. I need to be more relaxed. I’m afraid if he gets one hint that I’m nervous, he’ll tear me apart. It’ll be like blood to a shark. He loves to eat people alive.”

“Maybe—just this once—Amara is right. We should be trying to focus, not trying to keep our minds off things. We need to be ready for him.” Stephanie leaned over, taking the bottle from Christopher’s hands. He slumped in the chair a little.

“I’m starting to wonder if Amara is right on more than one thing. Maybe he’s really got no intentions of seeing us.” Chris looked over to the two large burgundy doors that leading to Alexander’s main conference room.

“It is taking a while.” Stephanie stretched as she said it, the late hour and excitement on the way had worn her out.

“Why don’t you close your eyes for a little? I can wake you when he’s ready to see us,” Chris offered. “Maybe you should have stayed home. You’re knackered.”

“Thanks, Chris I just couldn’t have you two come here alone. We’re a team.” Stephanie chuckled a little and leaned her head on his shoulder.

“Get some rest.” He nodded and smiled at her gently.

* * * *

Stephanie closed her eyes, and it was only a few more minutes before Amara came back into the room. She looked at the two and shook her head. “Getting comfortable?”

“She’s exhausted. If I knew we had time, I’d say we should take her back to the hotel, but with our luck, if we leave, that’s when he’ll come out looking for us.” He watched Stephanie worriedly again.

“I’m giving him ten more minutes,” Amara glared at the doors as she said it. “Then I’m taking matters into my own hands.”

“What do you mean?” Chris looked up at Amara again. “Don’t do anything stupid. I don’t want to fight if we don’t need to.”

“I never do anything stupid,” Amara snapped as she sat down on the far end of the sofa, sinking into the stuffed cushions and crossing her arms. “Ten minutes.”

Chris sighed deeply and shook his head. He didn’t expect Amara to really mean it. What sort of idiot would give a vampire “ten more minutes” when he was doing them a favor? It was hard enough just to get in to see him. Sure, he was running late, but at this point they needed him. Making him angry would only make their jobs harder.

* * * *

Amara watched the clock tick by in silence while she waited for the doors to open and for Alexander to waltz out as if nothing happened. That’s what he would do, she was sure of it. Walk out gracefully and greet them as if he hadn’t kept them there waiting for ages. Twelve minutes went by, and Amara still sat impatiently in the overstuffed chair. She pushed to her feet quickly, fueled by her irritation, and headed for the door.

“Amara, what are you doing?” Chris asked quickly as he got up to swiftly to grab her arm. When he jumped up from the sofa, Stephanie woke suddenly.

“What’s going on?” she asked with a yawn. She realized saw Amara headed for the large wood doors and got up as well.

“Amara stop,” Chris shouted at her.

“We’ve waited long enough. I’m not going to spend my night sitting here waiting on a vampire who isn’t intending on seeing us.”

“Just give him five more minutes,” Chris pleaded. “If we barge in now and interrupt a meeting, he won’t see us anyway.”

“I’m sick to death of waiting,” Amara snapped. “Five minutes isn’t going to make a difference.”