Blood Melody

by Val St. Crowe

  Viggo turned on him. “Since when do you care about my comfort?”

  “You’re right,” said Landon. “I don’t. Never mind, Camber. Forget it.”

  “No,” said Viggo, holding up a hand. “Some wine would not be remiss.”

  “Okay,” I said. But I remembered that Landon had complained that we didn’t have any beer in our refrigerator. I didn’t think we had wine. I went into the kitchen and looked in all the cabinets. No wine.

  “Look here,” said Viggo.

  I turned to see him striding across the kitchen. He palmed the counter and a rack popped out next to the stove. It was a wine rack, fully stocked.

  “What the hell?” I said. “That’s been here all along?”

  “Yes, I’m surprised your bloodhound didn’t tell you about it,” said Viggo. “He would have known that all of the apartments tend to have these installed.”

  “I actually didn’t think of it until just now,” called Landon from the living room. “But maybe it’s a good thing. It doesn’t do to be muddle-headed when being held prisoner by vampires.”

  Viggo gathered up four bottles of wine. He gave two to me and took two himself and we went into the living room. “I think you’ll join me in a glass of wine, bloodhound. Of course, I wager you’ll find it’s not easy to muddle your head as a bloodhound. Haven’t you had anything to drink since you’ve been changed?”

  “You know,” said Landon, “it’s not as if you vampires supply the bloods with libations. The only way to get drunk is to go to one of those werewolf whorehouses, which generally tends to result in a body count, and I’m just not really interested in killing innocent people.”

  Viggo glared at him. Then he rounded on me. “Where are the wine glasses?”

  “Um, I don’t know?” I said.

  “Try the top cabinet above the sink,” said Landon to me.

  I went back out into the kitchen and found the glasses. I guessed that all these apartments were set up similarly, something he maybe knew from being a blood slave. I brought back out the glasses and set them out.

  Both of them looked at me.

  “I’ll pour the wine, why don’t I?” I said. “Being the only female and all, it naturally falls to me.” I rolled my eyes. But maybe I was making too much of it. Landon obviously couldn’t move or Viggo would realize he wasn’t actually chained to the wall, and Viggo wasn’t about to serve Landon.

  Anyway, then we were all drinking.

  I didn’t see how Landon’s idea for me to get Viggo talking was going to work. He had let down his guard for me, but he wasn’t about to let down his guard with Landon. He didn’t like Landon.

  “So, yeah,” Landon said, draining his wine glass. “That’s amazing. It’s not going to my head at all. What kind of alcohol tolerance do bloods have, anyway? In most areas, we’re just a little better than vampires—a little stronger, a little faster. Not to mention the fact that sunlight doesn’t bother us. So, can we outdrink you too?”

  Viggo glowered at him. “What is this, bloodhound? Are you trying to get under my skin? It’s not going to work.”

  “Maybe that’s why she prefers me to you,” said Landon. “Maybe Desta just likes a man who can hold his liquor. Or wine, in this case.” He held out his glass. “Come on, Camber, fill me up. Let’s do this.” He nodded at Viggo. “You’re behind already.”

  Viggo’s nostrils flared. “I’m not entering into a competition with the likes of you.”

  “You already have,” said Landon. “And Desta keeps picking me.”

  Viggo downed his glass of wine. “Very well. Let’s do this, as you say.” He thrust his wine glass at me.

  I was horrified by this turn of events. Landon was going to try to outdrink the vampire king? There was no way this was going to work. But now that we’d started down this path, there didn’t seem to be any way off. It was all in motion. So, I poured the wine, and I kept the bottles coming, and I watched the two of them drink and drink and drink.

  There wasn’t a lot of talking for a while, not until we had gotten maybe ten bottles deep, and then their tongues got loose, but they didn’t say much of anything of consequence.

  It was a bit of a startling experience. I’d never really listened to drunk people talk when I was stone-cold sober, but drunk people were not fun to listen to when I was not drunk too. I felt as though I couldn’t really keep up with what they were saying and that they weren’t making sense and that they were repeating themselves a lot.

  Most of it was stupid male bravado, anyway. Landon was really egging Viggo on, telling him things that he remembered Desta had said about him. “She used to tell me that she’d rather be with me any day of the week than be with you,” Landon said, sloshing down another glass of wine.

  “Yes, but that was because you adored her unnaturally,” said Viggo, hiccuping. “Once I informed her that your love for her wasn’t real, she felt differently.”

  “You saying Desta only liked me because I flattered her? That’s a pretty crappy thing to say about the woman you supposedly love.”

  “I wasn’t saying that, bloodhound. I should kill you for that.”

  “More wine,” said Landon. “Drink me under the table, then kill me, old man.”

  It went on for an agonizingly long time.

  They drank, and they babbled, and their voices grew slurred, and Viggo stumbled around the living room, and Landon forgot he was supposed to be chained up and stumbled around too. But Viggo was so drunk by then that he didn’t seem to notice.

  I was nervous. I didn’t see how this was going to turn out well. Say that Landon did manage to win. So what? He was supposed to kill the bloodhound guards on the door, and Landon was not in fighting shape. He was very, very drunk.

  Viggo and Landon faced off in the middle of the living room. Both were swaying a little on their feet.

  “Why are you doing this, anyway, bloodhound?” slurred Viggo. “You don’t even want her.”

  “I just enjoy making you sweat,” said Landon, smirking.

  “I’m beginning to think there’s more to it than that,” said Viggo. “I’m beginning to think that you’re trying to make a fool of me.”

  “You do that well enough on your own,” said Landon. He shook his wine glass at me. “Come on, Camber. We’re empty here.”

  “Right,” I said, filling their glasses.

  Viggo staggered. He held up one finger. “I should have you killed for this, you know?”

  “Yes, you keep threatening that,” said Landon. “But you know Desta wants me alive.” He took a swallow of wine.

  “I’ll tell her it was an accident,” said Viggo, tipping his glass to his mouth. He drained it in one long draught. “There. Now you, bloodhound.”

  Landon put the glass back to his lips.

  But Viggo was staggering back towards a chair. He sat down hard in it and groaned a little. Then he shut his eyes.

  I was stunned. No. Had we done it? Had we made the king pass out? Really?

  Landon laughed. “That’s right,” he said. “I knew I’d be just a little better at drinking than you. I knew it.” And then Landon collapsed on the floor.

  I surveyed the both of them.

  Well. Great.

  This was perfect.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I opened the door to the apartment. “Um, you guys are going to want to come in here and see this,” I said to the bloodhounds out there standing guard.

  “What are you talking about?” said one.

  “It’s the king,” I said. “You need to come quickly.”

  They exchanged a look, but then they followed me into the apartment. I had dragged Landon’s inert form over to the entryway and hidden him behind the door, so they didn’t see him as I led them inside.

  When they entered the living room, there was Viggo, sprawled out on a chair, his chin resting against his chest.

  Alarmed, both of the bloods rushed toward him.

  I immediately shut the double doors that
led to the living room, locking them in.

  Bloods were strong. That would hold them for about two minutes. I raced back to the doorway and grabbed Landon’s feet. I dragged him out into the hallway and laboriously made my way to the elevator, which was blessedly close to my apartment.

  I had racked my brain for some kind of way that I could carry Landon in wolf form. I was much stronger in wolf form. But I couldn’t think of a way. Even if I made a harness, I would need to be in human form to put it on, and then when I shifted, it would break, so it was impossible.

  I got to the elevator and set down Landon’s feet.

  “Mmmph,” he said.

  I hit the button to go down.

  The bloods burst through the door to my apartment at the other end of the hallway.

  I glared at the elevator. “Come on, come on,” I said.

  The bloods were coming down the hallway towards me.

  The elevator door slid open.

  I picked up Landon’s feet. I pulled him inside.

  The bloods were getting closer.

  I jammed my hand against the button to close the door.

  “What did you do to the king?” one yelled.

  Geez, didn’t they see all the empty wine bottles on the coffee table? I would have thought it was obvious.

  The elevator doors slid closed.

  I hit the button for the ground floor.

  Something hit the other side of the elevator door hard, denting it.

  I yelped.

  The elevator lurched to life, carrying us downward.

  Landon sat up. “What the hell?” he said, still sounding slurred and drunk.

  “We’re escaping,” I said. “Great plan, by the way. You were supposed to take care of the bloods on the door.”

  “Huh?” he said. “Everything is spinning.”

  “Please tell me you’re not going to throw up,” I said.

  He moaned. He tried to stand up. Couldn’t. Moaned again.

  “They’ve probably alerted the entire building,” I said. “I’d expect company when we get to the bottom floor.”

  Landon tried to stand up again.

  “Just stay down,” I said. “Don’t waste your strength.”

  He moaned again.

  I started to unbutton my pants.

  “What are you doing?” said Landon, alarm in his voice.

  “Shifting,” I said. “Someone’s going to have to fight when we get down there.”

  “You’ll never take the bloodhounds,” he said, and this time he did manage to get to his feet. He grunted.

  “Landon, you’re drunk. You can’t fight.”

  He flexed his shoulders, rolling his head. “Watch me.”

  And suddenly, we were on the ground floor, and the door was opening, and…

  No one out there. Just the too-yellow light of the parking garage.

  “Did you get the key?” said Landon.

  “Key?” I said.

  “To the car, to Viggo’s car. We need a key to get out of here.”

  “Hell,” I muttered. “Well, we’ll just go back up to the penthouse.” I started to hit the button to close the elevator door.

  “Don’t be crazy. That’s never going to work,” said Landon. “Come on.” He dragged me out of the elevator.

  “Well, how are we going to get a car?” I said.

  “Viggo’s cars are fancy,” said Landon. “Built-in phones, built-in screens with internet access. We’ll break in and then we’ll use the internet to look up how to hotwire a car.”

  “Right,” I said. “Great. Because we’ll totally have time to do that.”

  The door to the stairs burst open and six bloodhounds rushed out into the garage.

  I yanked off my shirt, letting the change flow over me. I was a wolf. I started to run. Landon ran with me.

  The bloods came after us. They were gaining on us.

  There was no way this was going to work. We were screwed.

  I threw back my head and howled, and as I did, I felt my pack, far off in the forest. They weren’t with me, but they were alive. They were whole. I had to fight for them. I had to make this work. The pack needed me.

  We darted in between cars and ran down the road in the center. The garage delved down into the earth another level, and that’s where we were headed. We were trapping ourselves. This was a bad idea. We were going towards a dead end.

  I wished I could tell Landon this, but I was in wolf form, and I couldn’t speak. Besides, Landon was lagging. He was bobbing and weaving and panting. He was too drunk to run.

  I stopped.

  Landon didn’t, but then he skidded to a stop. “Camber, what? Are you nuts?”

  I lunged at the bloods, snarling.

  “Camber!” screamed Landon.

  I tackled a blood, and I went for his throat, my jaws gaping. My teeth sank into his skin.

  He shrieked.

  Blood arced out. There was blood everywhere. On his face. In my mouth. In the air.

  I ripped away his flesh, shaking my head and spitting it out.

  The bloodhound writhed on the ground. He wasn’t dead, of course. He would heal. But he was down for now.

  The other bloods looked at their fallen comrade.

  “Hey,” said Landon.

  They turned to look at him.

  “You want the chips out of your necks?” said Landon.

  I panted, surveying the bloods. Would that work? Could he possibly convince them—”

  “I don’t have mine anymore.” Landon fingered the scar on the back of his neck. “You let us go, we’ll be back, and we’ll find a way to free every last bloodhound in the city.”

  We would? What?

  The bloodhounds exchanged a glance.

  The one on the ground was already healing. His neck was knitting itself back together.

  “Why do you think the vampires are chasing us?” said Landon. “Why don’t you think they want us to escape? Because we’re going to change everything.”

  One of the bloods pointed in the opposite direction we’d been running. “That’s the way out,” he said in a hoarse voice.

  “We need a car,” said Landon.

  “Ms. Raina always leaves the keys on her dash,” spoke up another bloodhound. He pointed. “Black car, about five cars up on the right?”

  “Thank you,” said Landon, and he took off for the car.

  I was right on his heels.

  Landon started for the driver’s side, but I barked at him. He couldn’t drive. He was wasted. Of course, I was going to have to shift, and I didn’t have any clothes, and then he was going to go into rage mode, so maybe everything was still screwed up.

  Landon climbed into the back.

  I shifted. I got into the front. I started the car. I glanced in the rearview mirror.

  Landon was pointedly not looking at me.

  Okay, so far, so good. “Desta,” I said.

  “We can’t,” he said. “We’re pushing our luck as it is.”

  “But—”

  “Camber, your sister has survived here for years. She’ll be okay. You want to come back for Waterfield, right? We’ll get her then.”

  It wasn’t ideal, but I didn’t see any way around it. “Okay,” I said, agreeing. “Okay, I guess that’ll have to do.” I pulled the car out and drove out of the parking garage.

  * * *

  I drove through the city streets. It was dark outside, and the stars glittered overhead. Even though it was late at night, the city was still full of activity. Since vampires didn’t much like the sun, they tended to do most of their socializing at night. Another misstep we’d made. We should have left during daylight. That would be the time to stage an escape.

  But of course, the bloods were always around.

  My heart was beating wildly. I wasn’t used to this car, and I was a naked woman driving around with a bloodhound in the back. I hoped there wouldn’t be any reason to stop.

  I’d never driven much in the city. My fath
er had always driven us in whenever we’d gone to meet Desta. I tried to remember the way out, but every other street that I turned down only went one way, and I wasn’t sure if it was the right way.

  I looked for signs for the highway.

  Finally, I spotted one. I turned down that street, and things started to look familiar. Yes, this was the way out. We’d take a few more turns, and then come to the gate…

  The gate.

  Why hadn’t I thought of that? There was going to be a vampire sitting there, asking to see our IDs, and checking against a list to make sure that we were authorized to leave the city. Which, of course, we weren’t.

  If we had Desta with us, maybe she could get us out of it, but we didn’t have Desta.

  “Landon,” I said. “There’s a gate. We have to go back and get Desta. Does this car have a phone like Viggo’s does? We can call her, and she can meet us outside her building.”

  “I don’t know if it has a phone,” he said. “But going back is a bad idea.”

  “You just don’t want to save Desta. You want her to suffer.”

  “Well…. I mean, I do want her to suffer. But it’s still a bad idea.”

  I pounded my hand against the steering wheel. I didn’t think this car had a phone. The dashboard seemed pretty standard. No screens or anything fancy.

  Then I had an idea.

  It was probably a dumb idea, but I thought it might work. We only needed a minute to get by the gate anyway.

  I kept going on the route we were on, the one that would take us out of the city. I turned where the signs told me to turn to get to the highway. And then the gate loomed ahead of us, and the bored looking vampire in his uniform watched our car approach.

  I pulled up and rolled down the window. I was hoping the window was going to be big enough. It looked like it was.

  “IDs?” he said boredly. And then he looked up and saw that I wasn’t wearing any clothes. His brow furrowed.

  Just like that, I shifted. I leaped through the window and I bit him.

  He screamed. A werewolf bite would weaken a vampire. I shifted again, half inside the checkpoint house, half in the car. I hit the button to open the gate.

  The vampire reached for me, his fangs extended.