A Dozen Black Roses Read Online Free

and produced the switchblade she'd used earlier on Cavalera,

    Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) the handle of which was decorated with a sinuous golden dragon. Her thumb brushed the dragon's ruby eye and the blade leapt from the hilt. In the dim light, the knife resembled a frozen flame.
    Cloudy's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "I didn't get a good look at that before—but that's real silver! And something else is weird about it too. Gives me a really creepy feeling."
    "It's enchanted. Specifically to slay Kindred. For someone who may not be Van Helsing, you know much."
    "You learn fast if you want to survive in Deadtown," he replied tersely.
    "Then I don't have to explain what this means." She drew the blade across her left palm. The cut was deep; dark, almost black blood welled from the wound and dripped between her fingers. Then, as Cloudy watched, open-mouthed, the lips of the wound began to seal themselves, leaving a scar that pulsed bright red for a second or two, then rapidly paled.
    Cloudy frowned. "What the hell are you, lady?"
    The stranger shrugged as she folded the blade back into its hilt. "It's a long story. Let us say for now that there is more than one kind of vampire, my friend. And more than one kind of vampire slayer."

Chapter
2
    Nikola sat in front of the dressing-room vanity and stared at the black paint covering the mirror as she applied her mascara. Over the last few months, she had grown adept at putting on her makeup without the aid of reflective surfaces. Lord Esher did not approve of looking glasses. Still, she had managed to glimpse enough of herself in shop and car windows to know that she no longer looked like herself.
    Whoever that might be.
    She knew that her name was Nikola, that she was a dancer, and that she was betrothed to Lord Esher.
    Beyond that there was only mist and the occasional murky recollection. She had the nagging suspicion that her life had once held more than these few reference points, but every time she tried to focus on remembering, her head began to hurt and the mist surrounding her thoughts grew thicker.
    Sometimes—but not that often—the fog would lift for a moment, and she would become painfully aware of what was happening to her. During those brief moments of clarity, horror and helplessness so overwhelmed her that she would deliberately wrap herself in the mist. It was less scary that way.
    Like what had happened outside the club earlier. When the street urchin darted forward and touched her—it was as if she'd been startled from a waking dream. She had looked down into the child's unwashed face and recognized it. Even now, the boy's features were trying to swim out of the mist, as if he were drowning and desperate to reach her. The face had a name. And on some deep, instinctual level, she realized she should know it. Nikola put aside her mascara, fearful that her trembling hands would ruin her makeup. Lord Esher was most particular when it came to how she looked while dancing. It would not do to displease him. Nikola blinked her eyes and, to her surprise, found that she was crying.
    How strange.
    Why should she weep? She was Lord Esher's newest bride-to-be. Shouldn't that make her the happiest woman on the face of the earth?
    She wished she knew.
    The door opened and Lord Esher, accompanied by his lieutenant, Decima, entered the dressing room.
    The vampire lord wore tight-fitting black leather jeans, a black muscle shirt, dyed-black lizardskin cowboy boots, and a floor-length black leather duster. His dark, square-cut hair fell well below his wide, heavily muscled shoulders. Although quite striking physically, the vampire lord did not look much different from the mortals who inhabited the city's rowdier districts. The only things that marked him as one of the Kindred were the black-and-gold enamel clan totem, a squared circle and captive triangle, pinned to his left lapel, and the chromium-plated skull