NightRising by Night Rising

Author:Night Rising [Rising, Night]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-06-16T20:01:43+00:00

SIXTEEN

BELOW,PHASETHREE

THATnight, the Underground rang with the presence of all its members, save for those who had been released Above. They had been gathered into a community meeting to pass judgment on a threat that could steal their utopia.

On the top tier of the stone theater, the elite citizens sat next to Sorin in cushioned throne seats. The top vampires shone in all their unfathomable beauty, their skin rosy from feeding, their eyes a swirl of colors that did not exist on the surface of earth. Males were bare-chested, dressed only in loose-fitting silk pants. Females decorated themselves with the finest of embroidered materials that seduced Sorin with thoughts of a mighty old world.

Then came the Groupies on the lower tiers. Dressed in thin silks, their skin shining with scented oils and glitter, they lounged like cats, rubbing against each other, draped over the stone in lazy luxury. Some had been chosen by the Elites to sit at their feet, the lower-ranking vampires leashed in jeweled collars as they nuzzled against their masters’ legs. Amusing, tasty pets. That was the niche of the Groupie.

Guards and human Servants were generally not allowed at any gatherings. Their opinions—if they had any—were of no importance since the manufactured Guards were merely puppets who, unlike the Groupies or Elites, did not even have the ability to change from preternatural creature to blending, quasi-human being. And as for the mortal Servants? Food. And, more importantly, they were the extremely willing worker bees who facilitated the vampires’ needs Above, rewarded for their efforts and kept loyal through their addiction to the Underground’s decadence and glamour.

Sorin stirred in his throne chair as he listened to the speaker who had been lending testimony from her position on the stage, her voice amplified by the stone acoustics. Next to her stood a coiffed man with graying hair and glasses. He was dressed in a black suit and maroon tie, the only human Servant in attendance.

“After being shielded from Dawn Madison’s mind and failing to get any information,” said Goth-laced Galatea, the Groupie who had been charged with spywork at Bava last night, “we chased the human Servant Lee Tomlinson, who took sanctuary in a church where we could not get to him.”

Sorin grimaced. They were talking of the bartender from Bava, a man who resembled a deceased actor from Above—Brandon Lee had been the name. Under the threat of having his pretty face harmed, Lee Tomlinson and his massive ego had gone against the code of secrecy by surrendering information about Robby Pennybaker to Dawn Madison and her friends last night.

Damage control was now called for.

“And what say you?” Sorin directed this at the man standing next to Galatea, a lawyer whom the cowardly Lee Tomlinson had contacted Above as a liaison to the Underground—a man who was pleading his case.

He bowed to Sorin, fingers to forehead. “Lee is genuinely sorry for what he’s done, Master. We ask to take into account his service to our community. First, he’s a

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