“Help,” Leonides echoed flatly. “You realize I already have a lawyer on retainer. Several, actually.”
Len huffed. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Fine, you’ve got more money than god. We get it. But I don’t get the impression this is about lawyers. Not really.”
I raised a finger to address something that had been niggling at me for the last couple of hours. “Would this be a good time to ask for reassurance that you’re not, in fact, laundering money through the club?”
Leonides stared at me. “Vonnie, do I look like someone dumb enough to launder money anyplace other than offshore?”
I opened my mouth, hesitating for a beat before replying, “I’m not sure that’s what you’d call a reassuring answer.”
He continued to stare at me. “No. I’m not laundering money through the Den.”
“Okay,” I said, deciding that it was in the interest of my already tenuous mental health not to push the issue any further. “Still, maybe Len’s right. If you’ve got people you can call for backup, this seems like the time to do it, you know?”
Len straightened and crossed his arms, his shock of blue hair falling over his forehead. “I can’t believe I’m actually the one suggesting this, but you should call Albigard. At least, you should call him as long as I don’t have to interact with him at all, and assuming you promise not to tell him I was the one who suggested it.”
“Who’s Albigard?” I asked.
“Another Fae asshole,” Len said tightly.
“A friend,” Leonides corrected. “Or at least, a friendly acquaintance who’s acted as an ally in the past.”
Something pricked at my memory. “Hang on. The demon guy, Nigellus... he mentioned you having a ‘Fae acquaintance.’ Is that who you’re talking about?”
“Yes. And you may recall that Nigellus also mentioned Albigard having pissed off the Fae Court, recently. He’s probably not in a position to help anyone right now.”
Len sighed. “Still worth a shot, though, isn’t it?”
Leonides looked pained, but after a moment he shook his head. “What the hell. It’s actually not the worst suggestion in the world.”
“Gee, thanks,” Len said, deadpan.
Leonides pulled out his cell phone and unlocked it, scrolling through contacts. There seemed to be a lot of them. After a moment, he tapped one. There was a longish pause, and then he disconnected the call.
“Out of service,” he said. “Not a complete shock.”
Len ran a hand through his fauxhawk, mussing it further. “So call Bela Lugosi and your granddaughter, the Bride of Dracula. I’m telling you, man, you don’t want to go into this without someone watching your back. Someone who knows what you’re really up against, I mean.”
I blinked at Len, running through the connections in my head. “Hang on. Back up a minute. Are you saying Zorah’s crazy-rich boyfriend is... also a vampire?”
“Oh, yeah,” Len said. “Seriously, it’s like Anne Rice and Stephanie Meyers had a pasty-skinned, sparkly baby together. I could not make this shit up.”
“Yes, he’s a vampire,” Leonides confirmed. “He’s also a giant pain in my ass.”
Len glared at him. “Oh, give me a break. Those two would walk through fire for you, and you know it.”
I watched the rapid-fire exchange like someone watching a tennis match. Leonides growled and squeezed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. I wondered idly if vampires got headaches.
“Fine,” Len said, when the silence dragged on too long. “Look, I’m not explaining to Zorah after the fact how you tried to do this on your own, while I stood by and let you get killed. Either you call them, or I will.”
Leonides’ eyes narrowed. “Or I could mesmerize your punk ass into forgetting all about it.”
Len’s eyebrows shot up, the silver piercing glinting. “Sure, try it. Then you can figure out how to deal with Vonnie, since that trick doesn’t work on her when she’s wearing her necklace. Hey, Red? C’mon now, back me up here.”
Two pairs of irritated eyes landed on me—one steel gray, and one dark brown.
“Umm...” I looked between my vampire boss and my crazy coworker, feeling like I’d just been dragged into someone else’s marital tiff.
Len huffed, and turned on our boss again. “Oh, and did I forget to mention the part where the Fae showed an unhealthy interest in her? He knows her name now, Gramps.”
“Just my first name!” I protested, not liking the way Len’s words twisted in my stomach like restless snakes.
“Son of a bitch.” Leonides rubbed at his temples. His hand fell to the table with a thump. “He doesn’t need your last name. He’s playing house with the state auditor’s office. He can pull the W-4s for this place, and get all of your personal information. You’re the only Vonnie here.”
The snakes wriggled deeper into my guts, bringing clammy sweat to my palms. Leonides grabbed his phone again, and the tense line of Len’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.
“That’s more like it,” he said.
Leonides shot him a dark look as he connected the call. “You realize it’s, like, five a.m. in the UK?”
Len returned the look measure for measure. “And you think they’re gonna care about that once they hear what’s going on?”
Leonides started to reply, only to cut himself off and bring the phone to his ear. I could make out a voice on the other end—male, I was pretty sure—but not what it was saying.
“Yeah, it’s me,” Leonides said. “I wouldn’t bother you like this, but I’ve got a minor Fae problem here that needs addressing.”
He said it in the same way someone might say they had a minor cockroach problem that needed addressing. I still couldn’t make out the words on the other side of the conversation.
“No,” Leonides replied. “Apparently, gossip about your little resurrection routine reached the wrong ears. He was yapping on about the ‘unwritten rules of the treaty’ and ‘the last bloodsucker spawning another of his foul breed,’ yadda, yadda. That’s not the part I’m worried about, though. I’ve got someone working for me here, and the Fae is taking an unhealthy interest in her. She’s a friend of Zorah’s, in fact.”
I winced, not sure if ‘friend’ was really an accurate assessment at this point. After another brief response from the other end, he covered the speaker and looked up at me. “Do you want to talk to her?”
I shook my head rapidly and mouthed ‘no,’ feeling completely unprepared to try and bridge that gap over the phone—not to mention, in front of witnesses.
Leonides raised an eyebrow, but returned to his call without comment. “No, it’s late here, and it’s been a long night. Just... get here when you can, I guess. You know where to find me.”
With that, he hung up. “Happy?” he asked Len.
“Ecstatic,” Len replied dryly.
“I’m... just going to head home now,” I said, feeling the sudden need to escape so I could deal with all of these new revelations in private.
Len frowned. “You should know before you go out there—I stuck my head outside earlier, and the place is surrounded by local news trucks. Almost like someone tipped them off ahead of time.” The last sentence dripped with irony. “Do you want me to help you run the gauntlet?”
I waved him off, not able to deal with even that much company right now. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”
He nodded reluctantly. “Okay. Just remember—the phrase ‘no comment’ is your friend.” He shrugged. “Or you could try raving about how the owner is an undead creature of the night who consorts with demons. That could be another possible approach.”
“Hilarious,” Leonides said flatly.
“Don’t be stupid,” I managed. “You know our boss is the beating heart of this place, Len.”
“Good one, Red,” Len approved.
Yeah, I thought as I pulled on my coat and headed for the building’s back entrance. Good one. Things might be going to hell, but bad vampir
e jokes are forever.
* * *
Foolishly, I’d hoped that the news crews would all be around the front. No such luck. If I’d been in a better frame of mind, I could’ve pretended I was a movie star leaving the high-end club, being mobbed by paparazzi. As it was, I just wanted to be holed up back at my apartment with Jace.
Plus, the unpleasant smell from the dumpster at the end of the alley kind of ruined any illusion of glam.
I held my hand in front of my face with outstretched fingers as I’d seen people do countless times when confronted with unwanted cameras. “Let me through,” I said. “I’ve got nothing to say. Uh... I mean, no comment.”
One woman followed me halfway down the block as I strode with determination toward where I’d parked the Taurus.
“Is it true that your employer is facing RICO charges?” she asked chirpily, jogging along with her microphone held outstretched.
I gritted my teeth and kept silent, increasing my pace until she finally gave up and turned back to rejoin the herd. Eventually, the form of my aging car swam into view, a lighter shape among shadows. The streetlight I’d parked under had given up the ghost at some point during my shift, and I looked around cautiously before entering the darkened area.
My key fob had stopped working more than a year ago. I gave a final nervous glance at my surroundings before sticking the key in the lock and turning it, but everything was quiet. With a sigh, I slid into the driver’s seat, with its worn upholstery that had long ago molded itself to the shape of my ass.
The door slammed more easily than it should have, and my breath caught as I felt a chilly draft stir my hair against my neck. With a dawning sense of horror, my eyes slid to the rearview mirror. Two dark silhouettes loomed in the back seat. The faint glow of a streetlight further down the road illuminated shattered glass in the rear passenger side window, where they must have broken into the car.
“You’re late with our money, little girl,” said a gravelly voice. “Time to pay up.”
FIFTEEN
MY HEART hammered as I debated the merits of throwing the door open and trying to make a run for it. If I could get back to where the news trucks were gathered around the club...
A meaty hand closed on the collar of my coat before I could move, like someone grabbing a cat or dog by the scruff to restrain it. There wasn’t enough room inside the car to maneuver—I’d never be able to unzip it and get my arms free of the sleeves fast enough to get away.
“I don’t have it,” I said, hearing the quaver in my voice. “Look, I... I already explained, I’ve just changed to a better job, but there was a gap in paychecks—”
“Not our problem,” said the voice. “Boss says to go and get the money, we go and get the money. Everyone’s got a fuckin’ sob story, bitch.”
My mind raced. “Yeah, but—I told you. This job is better! If he’ll just wait a few more days, I’ll... I’ll pay double. Call it added interest? And then we’ll be square again.”
Silence. I swallowed hard. “Just tell him for me? That it’ll be double, if he’ll give us a few more days?”
Jesus. Why had I decided to keep my pepper spray in an inner pocket of my bag? It might as well have been in Kazakhstan for all the good it did me in a crisis.
“Sure,” said the man who was holding me, his voice gone suspiciously friendly. “We’ll tell him for you, baby.” His finger traced the side of my neck, and I shuddered. “The boss—he’s a real soft touch. He’ll probably be real understanding when he hears about your new job an’ all.”
The other goon snickered.
“I’ll have it for him. Double, like I said,” I whispered hoarsely. “Just give me a bit more time.”
One of them snorted derisively—I couldn’t tell which one. But the grip on my coat fell away. I sat frozen, hands at ten o’clock and two o’clock, as the backseat door creaked open. The car’s suspension swayed as the two men got out. I flinched as the door slammed behind them, watching unblinkingly in the side mirror as they walked away and disappeared into the night.
When I was sure they were gone, I folded forward until my forehead rested on the steering wheel, shaking like a leaf. I fought the urge to jam the key in the ignition and peel away from the curb as fast as a twenty-five-year-old Ford could accelerate, knowing I was likely to wrap the car around a utility pole in my current state.
Something had to give. Unless Richard had magically managed to hold onto money for the first time in the sixteen years since I’d known him, there was no way I was going to be able to come up with twice the usual payment.
A day ago, this might’ve been enough for me to finally go to the police, despite Richard’s argument that doing so would mean all three of us entering witness protection and disappearing. But, since then, I’d seen police acting under some kind of zombie-like control by a supernatural creature who apparently also controlled judges and politicians.
A day ago, I might also have swallowed my pride and gone crawling to Leonides for help, or at least for a paycheck advance. But now, Leonides had his own set of problems to deal with, and I didn’t think he’d be too thrilled to have mine dumped in his lap on top of everything else.
I drew in a breath as the kernel of an idea began to form in my mind, a fresh blast of adrenaline sparking neurons that obviously hadn’t been firing on all cylinders until now. I straightened in my seat, my heart beating fast as I thought it through.
This could work. I just needed to get home safely, reassure myself that Jace was all right, and call Richard. I intended to give my ex a long-overdue piece of my mind, that was for sure... but I also needed him on board if we were going to make my idea work. With fingers that were barely shaking, I stabbed the key into the Ford’s ignition and turned it.
The engine fired, and I checked the mirrors carefully before pulling onto the street. Cold air swirled through the broken window, bringing gooseflesh to the bare skin of my face and neck.
* * *
I snuck into the apartment as quietly as I could, removing my shoes and tiptoeing down the hallway to peer into Jace’s room. He was out cold, lying facedown on his pillow and snoring softly. I stood there for way too long, just watching him sleep and trying to get my nerves under control.
Eventually, I tore myself away and closed his door with a quiet click before returning to the kitchen. My phone was down to a twelve percent charge, but it would be enough for what I needed. I called Richard, and when he didn’t pick up, I called again and again, hanging up each time it went to voicemail.
After about five minutes of this, a groggy voice came on the line. “Vonnie? ’S after midnight, why are you calling? Is something wrong?”
Sometimes, I could just smack the man.
“Yeah, Richard. You could say something’s wrong,” I said, my voice a low hiss that wouldn’t carry to Jace’s bedroom and risk waking him. “A pair of goons broke into my car and ambushed me after work, demanding the money that you fucking owe them.”
There was a stretch of heavily loaded silence.
Then, “Von... you know I’m trying to get the shop ramped up to where it’s profitable. Then I’ll be able to...”
I ground my teeth. “Shut up. I’ve heard the excuses. Hell, Richard, I’ve been hearing nothing but excuses for years. I’m done. You thought a CBD and smoke shop would be the key to untold riches? Well, guess what—it’s obviously not. You get your ass over here to my apartment tomorrow evening after Jace goes to bed, and you listen while I tell you how we’re getting out of this mess. And once we are, you don’t ever drag me into another one of your get-rich-quick schemes. Text me tomorrow when you’re on your way over.”
I hung up and powered the phone off, breathing heavily. No more of this. I’d spent most of my life trying to play by other people’s rules... trying not to rock the boat. And look where it had gotten me.
I hadn’t been lying to Richard. I was done.
* * *
I spent a restless day taping a plastic bag over m
y broken car window and doing internet research on my phone, interspersed with periods of torturing myself by watching news coverage about the closure of the Den. By dinnertime, my jaw ached and I had a pounding headache.
Jace had been giving me sideways looks since he got home from school. As we sat down to eat, he couldn’t contain himself anymore, it seemed.
“What’s up with that club where you work?” he asked. “It’s all over the news. Do you still have a job?”
“For now, yeah,” I reassured him. “The boss says he’ll keep paying everyone until the mess is sorted out. He’s rich, so I don’t doubt his word on that.”
My son’s deep-set eyes narrowed. “So... is he some kind of mafia don or something?”
“No,” I said firmly. “He’s not some kind of mafia don or something.”
Just your garden variety vampire, I added in the privacy of my own head.
“Is that why you’re so upset today?” he asked. “Because of the club closing?”
“Yeah, mostly,” I told him. “I think he’s being framed. Hopefully the lawyers can sort it out.”
Len’s words floated through my memory, unbidden. I don’t get the impression this is about lawyers.
“Huh,” Jace said. “Well, that sucks. I know you like that job.”
“It does suck,” I agreed, pushing down the little bubble of hysterical laughter that wanted to rise as the ‘sucking’ joke registered, out of context. “The place is a lot better than working retail.”
And oceans better than working a phone sex line, I didn’t add.
“Maybe it’ll get straightened out quickly,” he offered.
“I hope so,” I said calmly. “But, hey, in the meantime, it’s paid time off, right?”
He shot me a little smile. “Yeah. Can’t complain about that, I guess.”
I gestured to his empty plate. “If you’re done, rinse that off and go start your homework. I’ll clean up in the kitchen.”
After he went back to his room, I tidied everything and ran through more calculations in my head. After a couple of hours, Jace called out that he’d finished his homework and was going to play video games until bedtime.
Vampire Bound: Book One Page 11
