Fang & Metal: A Science Fiction Vampire Detective Novel (Vampire Detective Midnight Book 4)

by JC Andrijeski

  Getting off the barstool was interesting.

  He knew bartenders didn’t have a cut-off limit for vampires, which was why this guy let Nick drink as many as he wanted. They didn’t have to worry about vampires dying of alcohol poisoning. They didn’t have to worry about them getting into car accidents, given their reflexes. Legally, they didn’t have to worry about some human trying to rape them, although that did happen. Basically, human laws didn’t really exist to protect vampires from themselves, just to protect humans from them.

  Nick made his way more or less in a straight line back into the train’s corridor.

  He struggled a bit to remember which car was his.

  He found it eventually.

  He jerked open the door even as the final warning blared overhead in the train’s PA system, that unnervingly mechanical voice ordering them back to their assigned seats within the next three minutes.

  Without looking at anyone, Nick made the opening big enough to squeeze inside, using the door for balance so he wouldn’t embarrass himself completely. Once through, he shut the sliding door behind him, still managing to keep his back to the others, still managing to remain more or less steady on his feet, although he knew Wynter would notice.

  Wynter would definitely notice.

  Making his way carefully across the car, he sat in the same contoured seat he’d sat in before he left.

  Only once he was legally where he had to be, for train safety and regulatory reasons, did he glance around at the faces of the other three occupants of the cabin.

  None of them returned his gaze.

  Tai and Malek had gone back to staring out the window.

  Instead of the dark wasteland that stretched between the protected zones, they now watched the approaching dome of New York and its dense cluster of lights and morphing virtual billboards. Other than that, they looked the same as he remembered.

  Nick made himself look at Wynter.

  She was staring down at the floor of the train car.

  He couldn’t read her expression any better now than he could before he left.

  He could tell she’d been crying. No… she was crying, as in she was crying still; she had been crying when Nick walked in.

  Clenching that delicate jaw, she wiped her cheek with her fingers even as he thought it, almost like she heard him.

  She still wouldn’t look at him.

  Looking at her, the pain in his chest grew unbearable.

  She cleared her throat, staring at the floor, and Nick had a flash of self-anger so intense, he wanted to punch himself in the face.

  Why had he left her alone in here?

  What had he been doing in that bar? Why had he gone there, downing shots like an asshole, like some kind of coward?

  More to the point, why hadn’t he taken her with him?

  She probably needed a drink right now more than he did.

  Of course, Nick knew the answer to all of those questions.

  He knew why.

  He’d flipped out. He hit his mental limit, and the circuit breaker fried, killing all the fuses that kept the logic functions working. The lights went out, and Nick bolted.

  He’d done his usual, and run away.

  From across the cabin, Wynter grunted.

  He winced when she looked up, when those stunning, too-bright eyes met his.

  He expected a wisecrack. He expected her to remind him that Nick running away from emotional intimacy wasn’t exactly new-news in Wynter world.

  She didn’t, though.

  Maybe she felt it would have been redundant.

  Maybe she was too tired of saying the same thing over and over again.

  She studied his eyes for what felt like a full minute, as if taking in every nuance, every last flicker of emotion or thought, anything she could feel or see coming from him.

  Then, out of nowhere…

  The barest whisper of a smile touched those perfect lips.

  Chapter 24

  Not Even A Little

  “You are absolutely not allowed to be here.”

  St. Maarten stared at him, her green eyes hard as they flickered to Wynter to the two seers, then back to Nick.

  She stood just outside the massive, glass revolving doors of the Phoenix Tower lobby. She stood there, a formal gown swirling around her ankles as her fingers tugged at the ends of long gloves, arranging them where they ended at her elbows.

  “Are you psychologically incapable of following instructions?” she said coldly, looking up from the gloves just enough to give Nick a look. “Even when those instructions were meant to keep you alive?”

  She frowned at Malek, her dark green eyes shining in the light, then looked at Tai.

  “I was specific. Was I not?” Her narrow, dark-red lips pressed together. “I thought I was crystal-clear that you were to enforce my instructions, if Detective Tanaka refused to cooperate. You were to knock him out, and leave him somewhere safe. That was not here. Here is not safe. He was not to be in the New York Protected Area at all.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Wynter that time, her voice holding a harder outrage, despite her laugh.

  “You instructed Tai and Malek to do what?”

  St. Maarten acted as though Wynter hadn’t spoken.

  She acted as if Wynter wasn’t there at all.

  She stared at Nick.

  “He told you, didn’t he?” she said, her dark green irises looking like polished jade. “Malek. He told you they are targeting you? You could not have picked a worse night to pull your usual boy scout, holier-than-thou, martyr routine, Detective Tanaka––”

  But Nick wasn’t in the mood for her crap, either.

  “Where’s Morley?” he said.

  St. Maarten’s eyes flinched. Then she turned, staring at him directly.

  She looked angry.

  She definitely looked angry enough to speak.

  But instead of doing that, without warning, she moved.

  Brushing past him, she walked gracefully on four-inch high heels to a long, hyper-modern, deep red limousine. Her formal, floor-length gown––emerald to match her eyes, covered in AR enhancements that made it appear to shimmer like it was made entirely of diamonds––swirled like liquid around her calves and thighs as she made her way to where a chauffeur already held open the back door.

  For the second time that day, she looked like a queen.

  Despite her dress’s liquid delicacy, however, he wouldn’t have been surprised to discover it doubled as some form of battle armor. Hell, he wouldn’t have been surprised if he saw her strap a medieval broadsword to her hip.

  “I cannot permit you to remain here, Detective,” she said, her voice now final.

  “That thing you built doesn’t only kill vampires,” Nick said, angry. “Did you even look at Mal’s painting? You’re risking them as much as you’d be risking me.”

  She didn’t even bother to answer that.

  Glancing over her shoulder and past Nick, she clicked her fingers.

  His head turned to follow the direction of her eyes, just in time to see four enormous male vampires come out the front of the building, all of them obviously armed to the teeth, and likely new-hired security, replacing Veronica Racine.

  “I’m sorry,” St. Maarten added, her voice not sorry at all, her hand on the top of the car door as she looked at him with cold, reptilian eyes. “It’s simply out of the question. We got credible evidence of a threat to your life. Unfortunately for both of us, Detective Tanaka, you are valuable to me. You are valuable to a lot of people, I am learning… people I cannot afford to piss off. I assured the I.S.F. I would not involve you in this. Not to mention your sire, a rather colorful vampire who just happens to lead the most dangerous faction of terrorist vampires on the planet. I assured Farlucci the same––”

  “Farlucci?” Nick frowned for the first time, glancing at Wynter. “How the fuck is he involved in this?”

  St. Maarten gave him a scathing look, one that verged on dis
belief.

  “The I.S.F. briefed all your current employers…” She emphasized the word with a meaning Nick couldn’t fail to hear. “…on the threat to your life. They strongly recommended placing you on quarantine until that threat was addressed. I assured them I would handle it. I should have known you would strive to make me a liar.”

  Nick frowned.

  Employers? Was she saying she was one of his employers? Archangel? Because it sure sounded like that. And since when did St. Maarten have a contract for him? He thought what he did for her, he did on the side.

  He glanced at Wynter, noting that she’d caught the “employer” thing, too.

  She looked furious.

  For the first time that night, her fury wasn’t aimed at him. Her hands clenched at her sides, but she aimed her stare and every ounce of her rage at St. Maarten.

  I hope to hell he never slept with that bitch… she sure seems to think she owns him…

  Nick flinched, then, hearing her thoughts, almost laughed.

  Not even close, honey. Not in a million years.

  Her blue-green eyes flickered towards him. Good. I have enough reasons to want to kick your ass tonight. Whatever Mal says, you’re not getting off so easy.

  I figured that, his mind muttered.

  His eyes swiveled to St. Maarten.

  “You’re really going to this fucking banquet?” he growled. “Even knowing what’s likely going down there tonight? And I’m just supposed to be cool with that? With you dragging my girlfriend there?”

  “I’m not discussing this with you,” St. Maarten said coldly. “Since your friends here are unwilling to rein you in, even to save your life…” Once more, she aimed a glare at Malek. “…Then I’m afraid we’ll have to handle this a different way.”

  She jerked her chin, aiming it over Nick’s head and causing him to turn a second time, taking in the vampires, who were now a lot closer.

  Nick didn’t think.

  He pulled Wynter back, flipping her over behind him, putting himself between her and the vampires. He didn’t modulate his movements at all, executing all of it at full vampire speed. He felt her breath catch, a flicker of her disbelief as she realized what he’d done.

  “Naoko!” Wynter snapped. “What the fuck?”

  “Get in the limousine if you want,” he growled. “Go with the others. I’ll catch up.”

  “Catch up?” Wynter said, her voice still angry, and now bewildered. “What the hell does that…”

  Her voice trailed off as she saw the four vampires walking from the front of the Phoenix Building towards Nick.

  “Oh, hell no!” Wynter snapped. “Are you kidding me? You are not fighting them, Nick! You need to go. Now. Just do as Lara says. Go upstairs. Stay away from the banquet. Let us handle it.”

  “Over my dead body,” Nick muttered, without turning his head.

  “Then maybe she’s right,” Wynter shot back. “Maybe they should knock you out. You’re obviously too stubborn to avoid a banquet where people are actively trying to kill you, even when people who care about you ask you to.”

  At Nick’s growl, she exhaled in frustration.

  “For fuck’s sake! Just let me, Mal, and Tai handle it… and the rest of the Archangel team. Maybe you could just not be a suicidal asshole for a change and sit this one out?”

  Nick’s jaw clenched.

  He could hear the logic of her words.

  Moreover, he knew damned well he’d be saying the exact same thing, if Wynter was a target and wanted to recklessly come with them anyway.

  He turned, glaring at her.

  “Then come with me,” he said, dropping his fists and staring at her. “Come with me. Back to your place… back to my place. Whichever. Let these assholes deal with it.”

  “No,” St. Maarten said from behind Wynter, her voice furious. “No, damn it! You are not calling the shots here, Detective Tanaka. I need her. She has… skill sets. Skill sets I require for the operation tonight.”

  Nick glared at her over Wynter’s shoulder.

  “You have Mal. You have Tai. You don’t need her––”

  “Except I do,” St. Maarten cut in. “And maybe I know more about what I need than you do, Detective. Maybe I’m more aware of the precise skill sets your partner possesses than you are, as well.”

  Arching an eyebrow, she made her voice even colder.

  “Maybe I bothered to find out what those skill sets were. Unlike you.”

  Nick scowled.

  He looked down at Wynter, meeting her blue-green eyes, and felt his chest start to hurt all over again. The thought of leaving her, of letting her go with these people, without him––

  I’ll be okay, Nick. I’ll be careful. I promise.

  You let her test you? Nick didn’t want it to come out accusatory, but somehow it did. You let that bitch test you? As a seer?

  Wynter sighed, fingering the hair out of her face.

  Folding her arms, she stared up at him. Nick, we don’t have time to discuss this now. You’re just going to have to trust me.

  He let out a disbelieving grunt.

  She glared at him harder.

  I’ll keep you in the loop as best I can. I’ll send you live footage, so you can watch the whole damned thing––

  Like that’s going to reassure me? Watching that shit go down, without being able to do a damned thing? Watching you, potentially in a room with those things, after they killed those people in the vault? He paused, his jaw hardening. Wynter, what the fuck. I showed you the painting. It wasn’t just vampires that got killed. Even Malek knows that. Anyone who gets in the way of those things––

  “Nick. Go home,” she said out loud, her voice hard.

  She stared up at him, her stunning, peacock-colored eyes uncompromising.

  “Go home, Nick. Let us handle this. Let me handle it.”

  Nick frowned.

  Feeling the shift in mood around him, he realized he wasn’t going to win this fight. Wynter didn’t want him along. He could see it in the kid and Mal; they didn’t want him along, either. He turned, measuring the four vampire bodyguards who now stood behind him. He could fight them. He might even win. But there was also a good chance he’d end up tranked and thrown in a metal room inside Phoenix Tower until this was all over.

  His mind calculated those odds.

  Nick didn’t like what it came back with.

  Without saying another word to any of them, he stepped back, releasing Wynter and holding up his hands in surrender.

  He gave a last look at Tai and Mal. He gave a longer look at Wynter.

  Then he walked away from all of them.

  He tensed as he walked, half-expecting them to stop him.

  He didn’t say a word about where he was going. He simply left, aiming his feet for the gated entry to the exclusive neighborhood of the River of Gold. He knew they’d likely follow him, at least via his implants, at least using drones.

  He knew that, but for the moment, it felt like an escape.

  He walked through the security checkpoint at the end of the private street.

  Once he knew he was at least out of the local surveillance vector, he clicked on his headset and pinged Kit.

  He didn’t manage to get a word out before she spoke.

  “I can’t talk to you,” she said, her image flashing into a corner of his screen.

  She looked and sounded nervous.

  “Nick,” she said, anxious. “Don’t pull me into this crap, okay? Ms. St. Maarten just laid into me for ‘encouraging’ you or some crap. She really thinks you’re going to die if you go to this thing. She’s working with those guys remotely, so you don’t need to worry about Wynter or Tai, okay? She promised me she’d keep them safe––”

  “Calm down, kid,” Nick sent, using sub-vocals and scowling in spite of himself. “I’m nowhere near the banquet, okay?”

  “I’m not telling you where it is––”

  “So they moved locations.” Nick grunted. “Figures.
Knowing that fucker, Kingsworth, that’s his idea of ‘dealing’ with the problem.”

  Thinking about that, he felt his teeth grind together harder.

  “Well, clearly St. Maarten doesn’t think it’s safe,” he said, still scowling as he hung a right onto Columbus. He figured St. Maarten was likely watching him, even now, and probably the I.S.F., so he went north.

  That way, he could plausibly be returning to his apartment.

  He checked his timepiece.

  Probably ten minutes had already passed since he left the front of Phoenix Tower.

  “…She wouldn’t have freaked out about me going there,” Nick added to Kit. “Not if she thought it was safe. Which tells me she fully plans to put Wynter, Malek, and Tai in the line of fire, whatever bullshit she told both of us––”

  “Nick, damn it, don’t pull me into this!” Kit wailed. “Not this time! I swear to God, if I end up in a jail cell because of you––”

  “Since when are you a company person?” Nick snorted, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. He went on before she could answer. “Anyway, I’m not going to ‘pull you into’ anything. I was going to ask one, small favor––”

  “No,” she snapped. “No, damn it! Nick, I saw what those things did, okay? You don’t get to blow this one off, not this time. Hell, your girlfriend will kill me if I help you with this. Can’t you just let Archangel handle it? It’s not like they’re short on resources––”

  “You heard what we were talking about? Outside Phoenix Tower just now?”

  There was a silence.

  Then Kit exhaled angrily.

  Nick suspected she might even be embarrassed.

  “Yes,” she said, annoyed. “She wanted me to tap your implant. She’s worried about you, Nick. I don’t understand why you don’t seem to understand that. We’re all worried about you. If these things are coming after you, you shouldn’t even be in the city. From what St. Maarten told me, they can probably track you. Yi’s got people working for him who are really good. Better than me. If they figure out your I.S.F. ident-code and use it to hack your implant––”

  Nick scowled harder.

  He only half-listened as she continued to rant at him.