To Walk the Night by E. S. Moore

simply knock on the smudged glass and wait, or I could just walk right in and see what happened. Neither scenario was very appealing. I was a sitting duck standing there, so I had to make up my mind fast.
    I couldn’t see anything through the glass doors. It wasn’t that they were too dirty to see. It wasn’t even that it was too dark in the building. Somehow, a combination of both managed to conceal any hint of what lay inside.
    I wiped away some of the dirt and tried to squint through the grime that remained. Still nothing. My night vision as a vampire was pretty damn good. The fact that I couldn’t see even the slightest outline of a chair or an old bookshelf through the glass bothered me more than the watchful eyes I felt on my back.
    I didn’t like this at all. Someone should have met me by now. Or at least attacked me. If this was indeed the Den, I should never have been able to walk up to the front door unmolested.
    And where were the lights? The Cult was made up of Purebloods. They couldn’t see in the dark. Unless they turned off all the lights for my benefit, I supposed. Something was definitely wrong here.
    I reached out and pulled open the doors. What else was I going to do? I wasn’t about to turn around and head back home after coming all this way.
    The doors swung open soundlessly. The darkness from the inside seemed to ooze out from the gaping opening. I hesitated. This was definitely not right, not right at all.
    I took a deep breath and held it. I was here for a reason. I could do this.
    Taking one last glance over my shoulder, I stepped into the darkness, knowing deep down that it was the wrong thing to do.

9
     
    Sudden light blinded me.
    My hands immediately went to my weapons and I drew my sword. I couldn’t see and that made me vulnerable.
    I hated feeling vulnerable.
    I blinked rapidly to clear my vision. The whole Den was aglow with the soft light from the overhead chandelier. Sconces lined the walls, and simulated flames lit up every shadow in the room. The floor beneath my feet was polished to the point it reflected every flicker of light.
    And I wasn’t alone.
    It took a moment for my eyes to fully adjust. When they did, my tension level rose through the roof.
    Tattooed faces stared at me from all about the room. Cultists watched me from the floor, as well as the second floor balcony. Everyone was shaven bald, including the women. There had to be two to three dozen people there, all of them wearing light brown robes tied at the waist by a cord. It was like I had walked into a monastery full of monks rather than the Den full of werewolf worshippers.
    The urge to draw my gun and start firing was almost overpowering. They might look clean and ordered, but I had seen the Cult at their worst. More than one victim had lain beaten in the streets from a Cultist attack. They may clean up nicely, but they were still just a bunch of thugs.
    But I held back. They had asked me to come here. This could still be a trap, but somehow it didn’t feel like one. Not any longer. The Cultists could have jumped me the moment I was through the door. I had been blinded, stunned by the light. I had been vulnerable, and yet none of them took advantage of my moment of weakness.
    I sheathed my sword and eased my hands away from my weapons, keeping my face serene. Many of the Cultists watched me with wary eyes, others with curiosity. But none of them made a move toward me. They just stood there, watching.
    I glanced over my shoulder to the doors behind me. They had already swung shut. I hadn’t even heard them close. I could see outside just fine, even through the grime. The green looked just like it had while I was out there. Only the door and the inside of the Den seemed to have changed.
    What the hell?
    “Impressive.” I said, turning back to the Cultists. My voice seemed loud in the strangely quiet library. “You do know how to make a girl feel welcome, don’t you?”
    Not a face twitched. No one approached