LITMIR.BIZ

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do I need to buy in order to play video games on this thing?”

      “That depends,” said the kid behind the counter. He wore a name tag that said, I’m Kenny. Ask me, I know. “What game are you interested in playing?”

      “Why does it matter? Just get me a game controller and a headset.”

      “Depending on your laptop’s capabilities, it might not have the best graphics card for gaming. Or enough RAM. Or decent speakers. You might need a new computer in order to—”

      Alfonso held up a hand. “No. I need to play it on this.” The laptop had been configured to make his online movements virtually impossible to trace. He certainly didn’t want to leave a trail; he worried enough about his blood assassin finding him without laying down a bunch of virtual bread crumbs.

      “All right,” Kenny said slowly as he scratched his head. “How much memory you got? Are you interested in playing first-person shooter games, strategy, RPGs …?”

      Oh for chrissake. Alfonso opened the laptop and typed in the URL of the Hollow Grave website. The screen went black for a few moments before animated trickles of blood dripped downward, and the sounds of blowing wind and a pipe organ echoed through the tiny speakers. “This game. What do I need to play it?”

      Kenny’s face lit up as if he’d just stepped into Disneyland. “Dude, that’s totally sick. It’s like the forest in The Blair Witch Project. And the haunted house. What’s this called—Hollow Grave? How’d you hear about it, anyway? I’m a gamer and I’ve never heard of it.”

      “From a friend. Now what?”

      Kenny cracked his knuckles and excitedly rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Do you mind if I check out the system requirements to play the game?” With his fingers poised over the keyboard and his heart beating fast and loud enough for Alfonso to hear, he looked inquisitively at Alfonso.

      “Go for it.”

      Kenny’s hands flew over the keys and in a few seconds, he was smiling. “You’re lucky. Your machine is totally kick-ass. With just a few add-ons, I think you’ll be in business.”

      He soon had the laptop outfitted with a controller, a headset and a pair of external speakers. Anxious to get home to start playing, Alfonso quickly paid and threw Kenny an extra fifty bucks.

      “Thanks, kid,” he called over his shoulder.

      Before he got to the door, Kenny ran around in front of him, the money clutched in his hand, face flushed, eyes wide. “Want me to help you with the game? You know, set up your user name and stuff.”

      “Nope. I’m golden. Just needed this stuff to get me going.”

      “Are you sure, mister? I could show you some tips, get you started. It doesn’t seem like you’ve played many games before and I’ve played a lot.”

      Alfonso took a deep breath and considered the offer. The tile delivery should arrive tomorrow, he reasoned, and after that, he wouldn’t have much time to waste learning how to play Hollow Grave. Alfonso could just wipe the kid’s memory clear of the website when they were done.

      “All right then. Let’s see how fast you work.”

      Soon they were situated in The Garage, the store’s gaming lounge, the screen open on the table before them.

      “You’re going to need a screen name,” Kenny began.

      “How about BlackNight?” He had to devise a new persona, someone who was looking to party at the Night of Wilding.

      “Lame,” said Kenny. “Bloodsucker?”

      Alfonso stifled a smile. “Too clichéd. There are probably many with that name.”

      “Yeah, you’re probably right. SoulEater?”

      “Maybe. BloodySunday?”

      “Ooh, I like it. It’s perfect.” Kenny held out his hand. “Now, we’re going to need a credit card.”

      Ten minutes later, BloodySunday was the newest user on the Hollow Grave website, complete with a skeleton avatar dressed as a military operative, three starter grenades and a full syringe of liquid power, also known as Bleed.

      “Now what do I do?” Alfonso couldn’t even get his character to move out of the foyer of the haunted house.

      “Here, can I try?” Kenny twisted the laptop toward him slightly and with a few clicks, BloodySunday grabbed a knife inside a small cobweb-infested box sitting on a hall table, slit the throat of a zombie who stumbled out of the dining room, filled a second syringe with Bleed and headed down a long flight of stairs.

      He glanced over at the redheaded kid sitting on the edge of the seat, his heart beating loudly enough to make Alfonso’s mouth water. That kind of enthusiasm for adrenaline-induced excitement reminded him of when he’d been a spirited youthling centuries ago. He and his friends had sought out anything that produced crazy, mind-numbing thrills. Wild rides on horseback through Spanish hill country at night. Masquerading as swordsmen for hire. Tormenting human grave robbers, which in turn had sparked rumors about the existence of vampires. That stunt had landed him in all sorts of trouble with his parents. Too bad he hadn’t obeyed his father, who’d been newly appointed to the Governing Council. Instead he’d chosen to frequent the gaming houses and brothels of Paris that summer, where nothing was more seductive than a pile of notes, the écarté tables and beautiful women well-versed in the art of male pleasures. He sighed and turned his attention back to the game.

      They continued playing and a short time later, a message popped up in the corner of the screen, congratulating BloodySunday on his progress. Not only had he gotten past the Newly Anointed level, he’d achieved Grave Crawler status, which gave him access to the forums where players shared special tips and tricks, and could make teams. He was on track to learn the location of the Night of Wilding party.

      Which meant it was time to go. He’d post something in the forums about wanting to party when he got home. He pushed back from the table and faked a yawn. “I don’t know how you guys do it, playing all these games, staring at a tiny screen all day. My eyes are about to pop out of my head and my ass is numb. Thanks again, kid.” He’d have flipped him another fifty—he really couldn’t have gotten this far on his own without getting completely frustrated—but didn’t want to draw more attention to himself.

      “If you ever get stuck or need more lessons or anything, I’d be happy to help,” Kenny said.

      Not knowing whether Darkbloods used the game to troll for human victims, Alfonso didn’t want to risk it. He gripped the kid’s outstretched hand firmly. “Thanks for helping me restore my computer. When it crashed, I thought I’d lost everything.” The kid’s eyelids fluttered a moment as the altered memory took hold.

      “Uh, sure.” Kenny blinked. A confused look flashed across his expression, and then it was gone. “If you continue to have problems with that hard drive, bring it back and I’ll see what else I can do.”

      In a half hour, Alfonso was back at the estate. He right-clicked on an icon Kenny had shown him and memorized all the screen names currently logged on, noting the ones highlighted in red. They were the forum moderators and, quite possibly, Darkbloods. He wasn’t sure if the whole game had been created by the Alliance or if they only moderated the forums.

      He scanned the thread topics but saw nothing out of the ordinary. Taking a deep breath, he created a new thread asking if anyone knew of some good parties in the Bellingham area. Then he logged off and strapped on his tool belt.

      AN AIR–CONDITIONED CHILL blasted Lily in the face when she pushed open the heavy double doors at the end of the tunnel that connected her condo to the field office facility. Housed several stories beneath the city, it occupied a large but secret portion of Underground Seattle. The city had been damaged by fire over a century earlier, but instead of demolishing and rebuilding the structures, city planners at the time had elevated the

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