Lust for Life
JERI SMITH-READY
“. . . is one of my very favorite reads!”
—P. C. Cast, New York Times bestselling author of the House of Night series
LUST FOR LIFE
“A perfect conclusion to my favorite modern vampire series. Jeri Smith-Ready is the perfect DJ for this universe, spinning a high-stakes story with heart, humor, and more than a little bite!”
—Seanan McGuire, New York Times bestselling author of the October Daye series
BRING ON THE NIGHT
“Packed with complications, offbeat humor, and believable characters, and of course the playlist is spot on! Great stuff!”
—Romantic Times (41/2 stars)
“Jeri’s writing is majestic, spellbinding storytelling that keeps you on the edge of your seat. . . . Along with a spine-tingling twist in the WVMP world that will have readers feeling as though they’ve just come off the Tilt-A-Whirl, this book is an engaging, fast-paced read that you won’t want to put down.”
—The Official Fiction (5 stars)
BAD TO THE BONE
Nominated for the Pearl Award
“Offbeat and hugely entertaining.”
—Romantic Times
“Believable, captivating characters abound. . . . By turns funny, sexy, and gripping.”
—Library Journal
“An entertaining, fast-paced, toothsome tale wrapped around an eclectic playlist of six decades’ worth of hot music.”
—The Green Man Review
“Bad to the Bone’s action-packed plot, realistic characters, original vampire mythology, sinister secret societies, and shadowy government organizations make it a great read for both vampire fiction and urban fantasy fans.”
—Love Vampires
“Filled with edge-of-your-seat suspense, hot love scenes, and plot twists that you never see coming. Jeri Smith-Ready has scored another hit. . . .”
—Bitten by Books
WICKED GAME
Winner of the PRISM Award
A nominee for the American Library Association Alex Award
“An addictive page-turner. . . .”
—Kresley Cole, #1 New York Times bestselling author of Lothaire
“Smith-Ready’s musical references are spot-on, as is her take on corporate radio’s creeping hegemony. Add in the irrepressible Ciara . . . and the results rock.”
—Publishers Weekly
“A colorful premise and engaging characters . . . a fun read.”
—Library Journal
“Just when I think the vampire genre must be exhausted, just when I think if I read another clone I’ll quit writing vampires myself, I read a book that refreshed my flagging interest. . . . Jeri Smith-Ready’s Wicked Game was consistently surprising and original . . . I highly recommend it.”
—A “Book of the Week” pick by Charlaine Harris at charlaineharris.com
“This truly clever take on vampires is fresh and original. . . .”
—Romantic Times
“Jeri Smith-Ready has created a set of strikingly original, fascinating characters, rich with as much style and rhythm as the music her vampires love. Lyrical and uncompromising, Wicked Game is a winner I’ll be reading again.”
—Rachel Caine, bestselling author of Thin Air
“Clever, funny, creative, and way too much fun. . . . A sure-fire winner.”
—The Green Man Review
“A wicked delight. . . . Urban fantasy that makes an irresistible playlist and an irresistible read.”
—C. E. Murphy, bestselling author of Urban Shaman
“Sharp and smart and definitely not flavor of the month, Wicked Game is wicked good.”
—Laura Anne Gilman, bestselling author of Flesh and Fire
“Will make your corpuscles coagulate with corpulent incredulity. It’s for young bloods and old jugulars alike.”
—Weasel, WTGB 94.7 The Globe, Washington, DC
“An imaginative tale that adds new dimension and limitations on the otherwise long-lived lives of vampires. . . .”
—Darque Reviews
“Excellent dialogue, skillfully crafted characters, and unique plot. . . .”
—Romance Reviews Today
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Contents
Epigraph
Author’s Note
Playlist
Chapter 1: Somebody to Love
Chapter 2: I Walk the Line
Chapter 3: Sunshine, Lollipops, and Rainbows
Chapter 4: The Boxer
Chapter 5: No More Words
Chapter 6: Trouble Me
Chapter 7: Sour Girl
Chapter 8: Paint It Black
Chapter 9: Stand by Me
Chapter 10: Kashmir
Chapter 11: Secondhand News
Chapter 12: Question
Chapter 13: Lust for Life
Chapter 14: He’s in Town
Chapter 15: Lawyers, Guns, and Money
Chapter 16: New Slang
Chapter 17: Bargain
Chapter 18: True Faith
Chapter 19: A Murder of One
Chapter 20: You Don’t Know Me
Chapter 21: Our House
Chapter 22: Bullet with Butterfly Wings
Chapter 23: No Sunlight
Chapter 24: Follow You Down
Chapter 25: Into the Mystic
Chapter 26: Now We’re Getting Somewhere
Chapter 27: Pretend We’re Dead
Chapter 28: Viva la Vida
Chapter 29: I Feel Free
Chapter 30: Like a Prayer
Chapter 31: Changes
Chapter 32: Nowhere to Run
Chapter 33: Magic Man
Chapter 34: You Know You’re Right
Acknowledgments
About Jeri Smith-Ready
To Adrian,
at last
For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only through love.
—Carl Sagan
Author’s Note
For the complete WVMP RADIO story, check out Book 3.5, “Let It Bleed,” a novella available for free download through Summer 2013 at www.jerismithready.com/books/let-it-bleed (and for sale at all major e-book retailers thereafter). Instead of being an offshoot side story like most novellas, “Let It Bleed” is an essential piece of the WVMP Radio puzzle, bridging the events of Bring On the Night and Lust for Life, as well as providing a rockin’ good time. Enjoy!
Playlist
“All Day and All of the Night,” The Kinks
“Season of the Witch,” Donovan
“Shake Your Moneymaker,” Elmore James
“Fire and Rain,” James Taylor
“Tubthumping,” Chumbawamba
“Flavour of Night,” Robyn Hitchcock
“Monsters,” Matchbook Romance
“Death Letter,” Son House
“Unbelievable,” EMF
“It’s Only Over When . . . ,” Bad Religion
“Wish I Was in Heaven Sitting Down,” R. L. Burnside
“Forty Miles of Bad Road,” Duane Eddy
“Crystalised,” The xx
“Radar Love,” Golden Earring
“Get Together,” The Youngbloods
“Atlantic,” Keane
“Rehumanize Yourself,” The Police
“Runaway,” The National
“No Surrender,” Bruce Springsteen & the E Street Band
“Ciara,” Luka Bloom
“I Will Follow You Into the Dark,” Death Cab for Cutie
“One Day Like This,” Elbow
“Asleep,” The Smiths
“After the Gold Rush,” Neil Young & Crazy Horse
“Telstar,” The Tornados
“Good Lovin’,” The Grateful Dead
“Where Did You Sleep Last Night,” Nirvana
“One Love,” Bob Marley
1
Somebody to Love
Halloween is a great day to be dead.
Or, technically speaking, undead. A vampire like me can be just a bit more herself in public, fly the freak flag a few feet higher. At WVMP, the Lifeblood of Rock ’n’ Roll, we hide our secret in broad daylight all year (not literally broad daylight, unless we want to spontaneously combust). But come October, we revel in it.
The station’s Halloween parties at the Smoking Pig are legendary, and tonight’s is no different. The bar is packed to near-fire-code-violating density, our listeners dressed as their favorite musical icons from decades past.
This year I gave in and dressed as Courtney Love, lead singer of Hole and widow of my fiancé Shane’s idol, Kurt Cobain of Nirvana. My messy blond hair, white baby-doll dress, and torn stockings enhance the riot grrl ’tude. So does being undead.
Our latest ’60s DJ—Vincent, who is, alas, not a vampire—cranks up the energy with the Kinks’ “All Day and All of the Night.” The crowd cheers and bounces, heads bobbing.
I spy my best friend Lori leaning against the far end of the bar, near the restrooms. I clomp over in my one-size-too-big combat boots. “It’s one of your favorite songs. Come dance!”
She passes a hand over her forehead. “You go ahead. I’m tired.” Her face is almost as pale as her white-blond hair, but maybe it’s just her Madonna circa Blond Ambition costume.
I examine her glass, which holds only ice. “Too many sea breezes?”
“No, I’m sticking to ginger ale. My stomach’s been funny lately.”
When I was human, I would’ve backed away fast to avoid a dreaded intestinal virus. But that’s not so much an issue for vampires, so I gently loop my arm over her shoulders. “If you’re sick, then go home.”
“I will, after Shane gets here. How much longer?”
I don’t bother glancing at my watch. “Half an hour. I’ve forbidden myself to stare at the door for another thirteen minutes.” I look at the front entrance. “That was a glance, not a stare.”
She gives me a wan smile as she subtly adjusts her “bullet” bra up a few inches. “Are you nervous?”
“If by ‘nervous’ you mean ‘ready to drag him into the nearest alley and rip off his clothes,’ then yes.” I let go of her and do a goofy little shuffle dance, very un-Courtney-like. “I am so stoked. And in six nights, daylight savings time’ll be over!” Winter means to me now what summer meant when I was human: freedom.
Lori goes to take another sip, then realizes her glass is empty. “You’re not worried Shane’ll be different after boot camp? They’re teaching him how to kill.”
“The Control’s first precept is ‘cooperation before coercion.’ ” I recite it like I’m back in basic training myself. “They teach us how to avoid killing.”
“But, Ciara”—Lori draws out the two syllables of my name, KEER-ah, in that lecture-y tone that somehow soothes me—“you didn’t train as an Enforcement agent like Shane. That division is hard-core. David’s told me stories of his days in uniform.”
Lori’s right—I do wonder if Shane has been changed by his training with the International Agency for the Control and Management of Undead Corporeal Entities. I wonder if they’ve turned my laid-back, grunge-DJ vampire into a hardened warrior, carved out his gentle soul and replaced it with the heart of a killer. I wonder if they’ve cut his hair.
I take a sip of my beer and change the subject. “Seen any of our advertisers tonight?”
“Mel from Creaky Antiques is dressed as Chuck Berry, and Bernita from Waxing Nostalgic is pulling off a pretty sweet 1980s Grace Slick.”
“Good to see our clients getting into the holiday spirit. What about Ray from the Pontiac dealership?”
“Franklin’s got him now.” She points past me, near the bar’s side door, where our sales and marketing director is chatting up one of our most fickle advertisers. Neither is in costume, but Franklin might as well be, with his animated, garrulous, downright swishy public persona.
It’s all an act, especially these days. His boyfriend, Aaron, died of the same mutant chicken pox that would’ve killed me permanently had I not been turned. Since then, Franklin’s real-life demeanor has been even grimmer than usual.
The slithering strains of “Season of the Witch” creep out of the speakers, and the partygoers wrap around each other in pairs, slinking together in the darkness.
Our punk/Goth DJ Regina spies us and starts to head over. Lori dashes for the bathroom, covering her mouth. I’ll assume those events are a coincidence.
Regina strides toward me, the chains on her black leather boots and jacket clinking, because she wants them to. She has the stealth of most vampires, but she likes to make an entrance.
I step forward to meet her at the corner of the bar. “Vincent’s playing your song.”
“Ha ha.” She taps her black-lacquered fingernails on the bar’s polished brass railing, so softly it’s barely audible under the blaring music. Still, Stuart the bartender turns instantly.
“Another Bass ale?” he asks Regina, who just smiles.
I pull my list of clients from the pocket of my denim jacket and take a surreptitious glance around, trying to figure out who I’ve yet to schmooze. “Vincent’s great with the crowd. Best we’ve had since”—I clear my throat to force out the name stuck there—“since Jim.”
“Vincent’s totally brill.” Regina leans back against the bar, crossing her arms over her chest. “Shame we’re going to lose him.”
“Not another one!”
“He put in his two days’ notice tonight.”
“Two days? What did you guys do to him?”
“Nothing, swear. We even let him play cards with us.”
“You didn’t.”
“Just wanted him to feel like one of the gang.”
Playing poker against creatures who can sense the slightest rise in body temperature or heart rate is the surest path to poverty. “How much did you take from him?”
“Total last week? About six grand.”
“Regina . . .”
“David needs to hire one of us to replace Jim. That’s the way it’s always been.”
“The job description does not include the word ‘undead.’ Besides, Jeremy’s a DJ and he’s human.”
She scoffs. “Despite his best efforts.”
Ever since he discovered vampires were real, our emotastic ’00s DJ has tried to become one. Nothing’s dampened his enthusiasm—not even watching me bleed and suffocate on the cold dive into death, then scream and shudder on the twisting climb into un-life. Jeremy likes pain.
I spy him on the far side of the bar and offer a wave. Jeremy waves back with an actual smile, making his lip ring glint in the overhead light. The cute (and surprisingly straight-edge-looking) girl with him probably has something to do with his unusually sunny mood.
I elbow Regina. “Isn’t that Lea from Legal Grounds?”
She glances away from the stage over to Jeremy. “I guess.”
“He told me months ago he had a crush on a girl who worked at the coffee bar. I figured it was Emma-Rae, the only person in our zip code with more tattoos than he has.”
“Opposites attract, right? Look at me and Noah. Or you and Shane.”
“You think Shane and I are opposites?”
“That boy is a marathon brooder. But nothing bothers you.”
“Would I need six months of therapy after that zombie battle if nothing bothered me?”
“Most people would need six years of therap
y after what you’ve been through.”
She has a point. In a four-week span last spring, I became a vampire to avoid death by mutant chicken pox; staked my Control commander to save the entire town of Sherwood, Maryland, from zombies; impaled myself on a fallen tree (don’t ask); and had my throat nearly torn out by one of my coworkers.
I’m either resilient, shallow, or totally lying to myself, but whatever the reason, I feel glad to be “alive.” Especially now that the nights are getting longer.
“We interviewed a new candidate for the sixties job,” Regina says. “Adrian’s the real deal. Metaphysically, musically. He’s even got the hair.” Her lip curls a little. Punks aren’t fond of hippies, even though their music shares a call for revolution.
“I don’t care if he’s a mummy with a mullet, as long as he keeps the ratings up.” I chatter on, making alliterations with monsters and hairstyles, while another part of my brain has zoomed in on the name Adrian.
First, the silliness test: The Vampire Adrian. Not bad. Many names are too tame or diminutive to work with the vampire title. Someone named Bob, for instance, better switch to Robert after he’s been turned, or he’ll be laughed at. By me, at least.
Second, the barrage of Adrian anagrams, which I can’t stop: A NADIR, AD IRAN, AND AIR. I’m particularly proud of RADIAN—extra points for keeping it to one word.
Vampires tend to develop obsessive-compulsive behaviors, a nasty side effect of our “temporal adhesion,” which is a fancy way of saying we get stuck in time in the era we were turned. Most vampires still dress and speak as we did when we were alive—we’re basically walking, stalking time capsules.
So the OCD quirks help us feel in control as the world changes around us. Usually the weirdness takes years to manifest, but I started obsessing over wordplay and correct grammar on my first night.
The phone rings behind the bar. I flinch as the sound cuts through the background noise to scrape my spine. Stuart keeps the ringer turned all the way up so he can hear it—he doesn’t know it hurts our sensitive vampire ears, since, like most people, he doesn’t know vampires exist.
He answers after one ring. I turn back to Regina.