by Debra Dunbar
It was my turn to laugh. “Deal.”
He led me over to the sofa and we both sat. “We’ve been spending a good bit of time and resources in the north part of the city. After your text Wednesday night, Madeline and I went up to Perring Parkway and I sent Zoe, Balen, Geraldo, and Kayson to Cedmont and Belvedere to check out the alleged animal attacks. We spent Wednesday and Thursday night tracking down those vampires. That situation is resolved.”
“Tremelay said the last animal attack was Wednesday night,” I warned him. “I think we need to make sure there weren’t any additional rogues that snuck in or one or two that might have been missed.”
Dario nodded. “I sent five up to Taylor Heights and North Harford Road this evening to search for and clear out any others, but I’m confident that area is secure. At least for now. Thursday I sent ten down to Arbutus in a show of force because there was information that three or four rogues were joining together down there to enter the city. Let’s just say they’ve decided to head further west and try their luck elsewhere.”
That was one good bit of news I could tell Janice—and Tremelay.
“Sadly, there’s more,” I warned again. “Remember when I told you there were people in the central part of Baltimore, homeless drug addicts, who had died from overdose but were seriously anemic?”
He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I shook my head. “One found last night does appear to have been either a willing or unwilling donor, and Tremelay thinks the others may be related.”
He frowned. “How anemic were they? We do have several paid donors who are drug addicts, but I haven’t been made aware of any deaths. We keep track of those things.”
“Tremelay says they were down maybe two pints. There were at least three found dead the last week and the one guy from Thursday night or early this morning who was down way more than a few pints.”
Dario rubbed his forehead and sighed. “And they had fang marks?”
“The recent death had clear fang marks on his neck, but the others… Theirs could have been track marks from drug use,” I admitted. “On both arms. Inside the elbow. Do vampires bite there? I’m honestly asking, because I really don’t know your preferences.”
A faint smile flickered across his face. “It is a preference where we choose to feed from, and it can also depend on the relationship between the vampire and the donor. Neck is always the first choice. It’s easy to access. Good strong blood flow for drinking deeply, and it gives us the opportunity to leave a visible mark when humans and vampires want that. It’s…it’s sensual even when you’re not going to actually have intercourse with the human. Holding someone in your arms, feeling their breath against you, their hands clutching you as you feed…it really adds to the experience.”
Yeah, I was getting breathless just thinking about it.
“Wrist is also very common. It’s almost courtly, and not as sensual although for the human our venom always triggers an orgasmic response. Wrist and inner arm have thick veins, but less pressure, so it’s a slow leisurely experience. If a vampire is concerned about losing control, wrist and arm are the best choice since those areas clot fairly quickly and it would take a quite a lot of effort to take too much blood when feeding from those spots.”
“Could a vampire manage to imbibe two pints if they bit one arm, then the other?”
He nodded. “It would take time, so in that case the vampire probably wasn’t worried about being caught in the act.”
My mind slipped back to the man I’d tripped over Tuesday morning. “Remember when I said I’d fallen over the body of a homeless man when I was jogging this week? Turns out he wasn’t homeless. He was some businessman that the police suspect had been lured to Baltimore where he was drained of all his blood. The only marks were on his inner arms, and from what I saw they didn’t look to be the right size and distance apart to be fang marks. The police are looking for a human murderer in some blood-for-money scheme, but I wondered…”
Dario thought for a moment then shook his head. “I’m not sure if a vampire could actually drain a human from those veins. There’s an artery there, but it’s not easy to access unless you’re going to bite a chunk out of the human’s arm. You’d probably sever the vein getting to it with your fangs. It would be messy, and the human would have more damage than puncture wounds. If the vampire kept it neat and only to the vein, feeding would be too slow to take more than a pint or two, especially with clotting. If a vampire wants to feed deeply and doesn’t care about killing the donor, they’ll always choose the neck.”
“I was just curious.” It sounded like Tremelay was definitely on the right path. I was relieved it wasn’t vampires because Dario had enough to deal with handling the issues up north and now the possible rogue feedings in the central part of the city.
“Where was the recent death? The one with the fang marks on his neck?” Dario asked.
“Upton, Druid Hill, and Franklin Square are where the anemic junkies were found,” I told him. “The one with the fang marks on his neck was in Pigtown.”
A muscle twitched in Dario’s jaw. “Pigtown is near here. It makes me wonder if this isn’t a message meant for me.”
“Two miles isn’t exactly on your doorstep,” I commented. “If it was a message, then wouldn’t they leave the body on your lawn?”
He shrugged. “Maybe you’re right. We got some information on Wednesday that someone had organized a band of fifteen to twenty rogues. We don’t know if they’re in the city or not, or even where and when they plan to make a move, but it’s got me worried.”
I stuffed my phone in my pocket curled up next to him. “I really don’t understand this whole rogue thing. I know you guys are suspicious of each other, and that family blood means a lot in terms of who gets accepted and how quickly, but why don’t more of these rogues band together? You’ve told me how difficult it is for a solitary vampire to remain safe.”
He put his arm around me and pulled me close. “We don’t trust easily. We’re territorial, so when a vampire is on their own, they’ll claim a small bit of territory that they feel they can hold—maybe a few blocks around where they’re bedding down for the day. It’s difficult because having a safe hiding place while we’re vulnerable in daylight hours is as important as finding a safe and available source of donors. Normally you don’t want to hunt where you sleep, because that sort of activity risks discovery of your resting place, but waking and traveling elsewhere to find a food source means you risk encroaching on another rogue’s territory.
“The death rate is huge. Either you die in a fight over territory, or you starve. Ideally you want to find willing donors, but if you can’t and end up feeding from someone you grab off the street, you risk being caught. A lone vampire can be overcome by humans. We heal, but unload a magazine full of bullets into us, and we might not heal fast enough to get away, or get underground before the sun comes up. And if someone finds your resting place…” Dario grimaced. “We’re dead during daylight hours. Imagine a human coming across what appears to be a dead body in a basement room or hidden away somewhere? The police are called, and we’re brought out into the sunlight and truly die as we sleep.”
“Don’t they take bodies out of places in black bags?” I asked. “Wouldn’t that shield you enough from the sun to keep you from truly dying?”
“If they bag the vampire in the dark, yes. Usually they open up the area for light as they investigate. There have been a few cases where a vampire managed to survive the ordeal only to wake up in the morgue refrigeration unit.”
I was horrified at the image running through my mind. Worse, what if they did an immediate autopsy? Removing the vampire’s heart would kill him just as sunlight would. Clearly modern times had changed the dynamic between predator and prey quite a bit.
“We’re handling the threats from outside the city. My main worry right now is this group—if they even exist. I’m confident that once we tak
e care of them, things will settle down. We’ve shown that although we’re small in numbers, we’re strong and organized. The initial rush to test us and try to chip away at our territory is dying down, and I truly believe in the next few weeks, things will somewhat be back to normal.”
That was a huge relief, and very different from the stressed and worried Dario I’d spoken to Tuesday night.
I snaked an arm around his waist and scooted even closer. “I’m glad. Does that mean in the near future we’ll actually be able to have dinner together? Maybe go see a play or a concert? There’s one of those reenactment things coming up in January and I’d love for you to go to that with me. Or maybe even come with me down to my parents’ house for Christmas.”
“Dinner and possibly a concert or a play on a regular basis, yes. The others…” He pulled me onto his lap. “I haven’t been exactly forthcoming about some of my new responsibilities. Remember when I said after we had control of the territory that we’d need to think about turning Renfields and blood partners who were eager to become vampires?”
I took a steadying breath, knowing where this conversation was going. “I’m assuming you’re about to tell me that you’re going to be one of the vampires who is going to be doing this turning, and that you’ll be unable to see me for weeks? Or months?”
“Yes, but there’s more. Those of us who remain have a duty to blood partners who have lost their vampires. Some don’t want to be turned, but want to remain part of the family. Others want to be turned, but we need to be responsible for their needs while they wait.”
I stiffened, realizing where this was going. “How can you feed from another’s blood partner? Doesn’t there need to be an emotional bond?”
“It’s not like that. Blood partners can leave the Balaj, or stay and have their needs met by a vampire of their choosing. If they leave, then we provide them with funds for addiction support and enough to get them settled back into a human life. For those that stay, it’s their decision who provides for them and how that is done.”
They were in mourning. And where I couldn’t imagine having an intimate blood exchange with another vampire if Dario died, some might feel comfort in being around those who were their beloved’s family. As long as it was their choice, their decision, then I guess I needed to accept it.
“If they choose, we will turn them when we are able. If not, they can continue to be a part of our family as long as they wish. We will make sure their needs are met, and that they are safe and taken care of for as long as they live—or until they decide they no longer want to remain with the Balaj.”
I suddenly realized there was a deeper layer to his revelation. He’d said he would personally need to help turn new vampires, possibly in the next month. I’m sure with only twenty-five vampires left in the Balaj, he was also needed to take responsibility for his deceased family’s blood partners. It bothered me. It was one thing to accept that Dario needed to feed each day, and that those exchanges involved an intimate euphoria on the part of the donor even if they didn’t involve sexual activity. It was another thing to think he would be providing for and taking blood from someone who was a part of his family.
I tried to put the thoughts out of my mind and imagine it all as if he were simply providing food, shelter, and emotional support to a grieving, newly widowed brother-in-law, or sister-in-law.
“So who are you taking care of? Which blood partner, or partners, are you personally…helping?” I asked.
His arms tightened around me. “Erica, Leonora’s blood partner.”
Erica. Gorgeous, annoying, bitchy Erica who had blonde hair and the slight feminine form I lacked, who’d been Leonora’s beloved blood slave. I know it was uncharitable of me, but as soon as he mentioned her name, I felt a stab of jealousy and wished the woman at the bottom of the Patapsco River.
“I realize our situation is…odd between a vampire and a human,” Dario continued, “and I know you have concerns about who I take blood from. Every evening it’s a different donor. It’s always a man, which is not my preference. My only contact with them is when I feed. That’s the first and last time I see them. I’m going out of my way to do this so you don’t feel threatened by those who I take blood from. But this is different. Erica was Leonora’s blood partner. She had status in the Balaj—still has status in the Balaj. She has asked me to provide for her and to turn her when I can. It would be dishonorable of me to refuse.”
The guy had to feed, and I knew he was going out of his way to make sure the sexual component wasn’t there for him, even if those feelings did happen for the donor. But Erica was a part of the Balaj. She’d been privy to all their secrets. Leonora had told her things, given her knowledge that I didn’t have. She was a member of the family, she was in.
And I wasn’t.
And the beautiful woman was now giving Dario something that I’d refused. The thought of her orgasming in his arms as he fed was too much for me to handle. Dario might not feel anything for her now, but eventually he might. How could he not, when she was perfectly suited to be the blood partner to the head of his family, where I’d always be that Templar outsider, cautiously respected and never fully trusted?
I didn’t want that life. I didn’t want to be a blood partner, a lesser part of the Balaj. But I couldn’t help but envy her even more now that I knew Dario was tasting her blood.
I had no doubt she’d be the first to be offered immortality given her status, as a way to honor Leonora. And of course Dario would perform that honor.
And there was nothing I could do about it.
“Okay.” It was all I could say at the moment.
Dario eyed me. “Okay? You’re fine with this? No argument? No insistence that someone else needs to take care of Erica?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I’ll be honest here, it bothers me, but I see your side of this. I just wish it was anyone but you.”
“I know.” His voice was soft, with a note of relief. “There’s a hierarchy among blood partners that mirrors ours, and it hinges on which vampire they belong to. This isn’t just me being respectful of Erica’s former position, it’s me honoring Leonora. She loved that woman, and Leonora wouldn’t have wanted Erica to lose her position or status after her death.”
“But she’s not your blood partner?” I needed to clarify this. “She’s in some kind of limbo right now?”
“She’s still considered a blood partner, only one without a vampire of her own. She’ll retain her status through me. I’ll refresh her mark every night, and take a bit of her blood.”
I clenched my teeth. “What other privileges is she afforded? Does she stay here with you? Act as your hostess? Stand by your side as you conduct Balaj business? Will you feed deeply from her every eight weeks? She’s pretty much your blood partner, only without the emotional attachment or the sex.” I hesitated, my stomach twisting. “Or is there sex?”
A muscle twitched in Dario’s jaw. “There is no sex—I promised you that. She’s not by my side while I conduct vampire business. She is staying here though—that’s part of her retaining her status. And she does help my new Renfield with various duties concerning the running of my household and daytime operations.”
I took another deep breath. “Okay.”
What else was I supposed to say? It’s not like I could punch Dario in the face and scream at him that he had to throw her out. He was a vampire. This was their culture, their life.
“I don’t have any feelings for her beyond respect as Leonora’s blood partner. None.”
I turned on his lap a bit to face him. “None?”
“None.”
I kissed him. “Good. Now, are we going out to dinner or what?”
He sighed and I realized that I probably wasn’t getting dinner tonight.
“I need to go out to check on this man who was found dead in Pigtown. Do you have an address? Hopefully there is enough scent left for us to track, or to at least get an idea of how many rogues we may
be up against.”
“Good thing I brought my sword.” Because there was no way he was leaving me out of this one.
Dario glanced over at the weapon.
“I go or you don’t get the address.” I was still going to give him the address, but hopefully the threat would help convince him to let me go along.
He shook his head with a rueful laugh. “Okay. You win. Just let me text Richelle to meet us there, and we’ll head out.”
Chapter 13
I ’d formed a mental picture of Richelle that was completely wrong. The name conjured up a tall, elegant, dark-haired woman with a French accent. Instead Richelle looked like the sort of woman who would sit you down at her kitchen table and serve you a big slice of buttery pound cake with fresh berries and a cup of strong chicory coffee by its side. She had a round, dark-skinned face with huge dimples in her cheeks and eyes that squinted into happy lines when she smiled. Her body was equally round with soft curves on a short frame. When she spoke, her soft accent conjured images of warm rain on a tin roof and lush green ferns swaying lazily in a hot summer breeze.
She was a vampire, and I knew she was as fast and deadly as any of them, but I still half expected her to launch into a story about last week’s church bake sale and potluck.
“I took the liberty of askin’ Fidel to join us later as he’s taken to socializin’ in this part of town,” she told Dario with a cheerful smile. “I’m hopin’ that’s okay with you, Sir?”
“Thank you, Richelle.” Dario grimaced. “I’m thinking it might be a good idea to keep track of who tends to hunt where so we know what sections of the city are being monitored.”
The unspoken part of that was if a vampire went missing, the Balaj would know where to target their search.
“It’s been a fair bit,” Richelle commented as she looked around the street corner where Tremelay had told me the man’s body had been found. “Might not be able to pick up much of a scent.”
