by Hayden, Sean
When the sun dropped below the horizon, I woke to find her still sleeping. Her arms wrapped around me like a cocoon, and I just basked in the feeling of being safe. The governor would be spending the entire evening in his office doing governor things, so we sort of had the day off. Well, we didn't have to play body armor at least. Does it make me a bad person to hope somebody blew up the mansion? That way we wouldn't get blamed, and we could go home. I missed my small apartment in DC. I just hoped Vic would like it.
"Morning, master," Vic whispered in my ear and gave it a little kiss. A shiver ran from my earlobe, down my neck, and straight down to lower things. I smiled and gave her a quiet thank you. I couldn't come up with a better way to wake up, until my thoughts drifted to Marcel. What the hell is wrong with me?
Vic released me and got off the bed. I slept in my underwear and T-shirt. Vic must have crawled into bed with me buck-naked. I hadn't even noticed I'd been so tired. I noticed now. As she bent over to retrieve her clothing from the floor I caught sight of her magnificent body and felt a slow, hot blush creep up into my cheeks. I resisted the urge (with some difficulty) to run my hand over her ass to see if it was as soft as it looked. Don't get me wrong, there isn't a spot on her that isn't incredibly muscled, but her skin has an almost glow to it. She must have been even more breathtaking when she could tan. I found myself wondering what she'd looked like as a human.
A knock at the door broke me from my reverie. "Who is it?" I expected it to be Thompson.
"It's me, chere. May I come in?" Marcel's voice sounded slightly muffled.
"Oui," I answered jokingly. Vic stifled a giggle.
The door opened and he stepped inside. I shot a quick glance at Vic who still hadn't dressed, nor did it appear she was in a rush to do so. I guess working at a strip club will get you over any nudity issues you might have. I wish I could. I didn't even like to be naked in front of myself. Maybe hanging out with Vic would rub off on me.
"Still in bed? I thought the youth were supposed to be full of energy."
"Not after the night I had, Marcel. What did you need?"
"Yes, I can see how you might be a little drained. I wondered if I might take my leave. With Strozzini gone, you don't really need me here right now, and I have some urgent matters to take care of back in Chicago."
I turned and gave him a concerned look. I understood his need to leave, but I didn't like it at the same time. I wanted to plead with him to stay, but said, "Sure."
"Would you promise me one thing? When you have some time, please make your way back to me. There is much I need to teach you. Your premier enfant understands much. She will keep you safe while I am gone."
"Marcel, I can't begin to thank you enough. My ass would have been grass if it weren't for you." He stared at me before glancing down at my comforter-covered butt. I guess he wondered what it would look like green.
"Just promise, come as soon as you can."
I nodded and pulled myself out from the covers and walked to him. He refused to lower his gaze below my neck. I felt a little pride at standing in front of him in just my underwear. I leaned in and gave him a hug. He made a little harrumph noise and I thought I might have been embarrassing him until I heard his rib creak a little. Oops. I guess I hugged him too hard.
I pulled away and he touched the back of his fingers to my cheek. He nodded once at Vic and gave her a quick, "Keep her safe." I didn't turn to see if she nodded back, but he gave Vic another of those melt your heart, make you swoon, grins. He needed to bottle those. My heart did something a little funny when he turned and left, pulling the door closed behind him. I decided I better get dressed and figure out what Thompson planned for us to do today. If he suggested a movie I would punch him in the face.
* * *
The helicopter touched down in the arid San Jose night. I'd have preferred going to a movie rather than being quickly shipped ninety miles to look at a dead vampire. What was the old saying about being careful what you wished for? Such is life. Apparently, somebody killed the master of San Jose. With the death of Claude Wagner and now this, the Deputy Director feared somebody was targeting all the influential vampires in California, and not just the governor. Thompson actually asked me if I wanted to fly solo on this one. He would stay and guard Greer, and I could come and check the body to see if I could find a connection. I wanted away from Greer for a while anyway.
The pilot shut down the rotors and I listened to the rhythmic thwump, thwump, thwump as the blades slowly halted their spin. "You can exit now if you want, agent," the pilot spoke to me through the intercom in my helmet.
"Thanks, Charlie," I shot back and began to un-strap my harness before taking off my helmet and opening the door. I watched two people dressed in black suits rushing across the landing field. They must be my babysitters in this strange land. Even though the rotors of the chopper had almost completely stopped, they still ran hunched over. I never really got that. The blades of the helicopter are almost fifteen feet off the ground. Even a professional basketball player could stand with another professional basketball player on their shoulders and not worry about decapitation. Yet whenever humans get near one, they instinctively hunch over like they have appendicitis. It'd be funny if they did it with ceiling fans, too.
I stepped off the edge of the door, dropped the few feet to the concrete pad, and stood proudly straight, I ain't afraid of no chopper. I could have started walking forward, but the agents went through all that trouble to face their fear of having their heads detached to meet me, so I let them come.
"Ashlyn?" The taller of the two made my name a question. I didn't like that he left off the "agent" but I let it go and nodded. "I'm Special agent Devries, this is Agent Mahoney. We're supposed to take you to see our dead vampire?"
"Lead the way," I said in a little bit of a snit. They get titles, and I don't? Oh well, maybe I was just being childish. I tried to not let it get to me as I followed them to their black SUV. They weren't running, so I fell into step behind them. Devries made his way to the driver's seat and Mahoney rode shotgun. I opted to sit behind him.
"Don't know what you expect to find here," Devries said as he started the vehicle and drove out of the helipad parking lot.
"I don't know either. We've had a lot of dead masters in different cities popping up. Just making sure they're not related." I experienced a little twinge of guilt since the master of Sacramento definitely hadn't been murdered by the same people as Claude and the attempted murder of the governor.
"Well, I'll take you to the body and let you decide. Warning you though, it isn't pretty."
"It never is." My reply made Devries look up from the winding road and glance at me in his rearview mirror. I could have met his gaze and not enraptured his mind, but I looked out the window and pretended not to see him looking at me.
"So, why did the Deputy Director send you? Do you have crime scene forensic experience?"
I gave a little bark of laughter and didn't take my gaze off the road. "You could say that." Apparently, Devries and Mahoney didn't know who or what I was. Sometimes I think Sanders did stuff like this on purpose. I mentally clicked him up a notch on my people who annoyed the crap out of me list. "Let's just say I have special abilities that help out from time to time," I finished.
"You're a supe?"
"Yes. Yes I am."
We rode in silence after that. Finally, after about twenty minutes, we pulled into the parking lot of a bar. How come Claude Wagner seemed to be the only vampire who lived in a house? Vampires are just plain stereotypical. I caught the name on the sign and gave a little chuckle. Bloody Mary's wasn't the most original name for a vampire bar. Especially when you considered some of the ones I'd been to.
"Come on, Ashlyn, your body awaits," Devries said and opened the door, letting the dry, hot air back into the Suburban. I didn't say anything in return. Devries plucked a nerve in me and I tried not to let it show. I could be a good little agent and play nice in the sandbox. I could.
I noticed Devries and Mahoney practically running through the parking lot to get out of the heat. I didn't mind it. It felt like something inside me had gotten a little warmer. I could get used to this. I finally reached the glass double doors leading into the bar and pulled the right one open. The blast of arctic temperature air instantly washed my newfound warmth away.
Dead silence filled the club, no pun intended. I half expected the bar to be full of police interrogating witnesses and crime scene investigators looking for tiny shreds of evidence, but the club sat deserted, completely. Devries waited for me at the far side of the large room by a door leading to the back. I crossed the floor quickly and waited for him to either lead the way or open it for me. He led the way.
The door opened to a stairwell leading downward. I should have known. The master of San Jose hadn't been killed in the middle of his club. Somebody had gone hunting for him. That differed from all the other attacks. If they were the same people responsible, maybe the governor wasn't safe tucked inside the mansion. I pulled my cell out and texted Thompson. Better safe than sorry. I even managed to walk down the stairs while texting. I have talent.
The stairs ended in a very, very large underground facility. Apparently, the master had felt safe behind his big metal door. Usually, the lairs of powerful masters were a little more secure and hidden. Maybe the master of San Jose had a learning disability. When everybody really is out to get you, it's not paranoia.
Devries' feet echoed throughout the cavern as he strode across the empty area to what looked like a living room setup toward the back. Couches, sofas, and huge ornate chairs spread out across the area nestled on rugs of various sizes and shapes. Everything was beautiful and ornate, just horribly mismatched. Oranges, blues, reds, and yellows all clashed and assaulted the eyes like a movie made in the seventies. The Technicolor living room smelled funny, too.
The closer I got the stronger it became. It smelled like nothing I'd ever encountered before. I can't even begin to describe it. I smelled blood, and that I knew. I smelled fear and death, and those I knew. Finally I had to ask, "Devries, what is that smell?"
He looked over at me and my crinkled nose and gave a quick chuckle. "Don't tell me you've never smelled weed before, Ashlyn?"
"Oh," I said and shook my head, no. I've seen hundreds of movies and videos with people smoking it, but I'd never smelled it or seen it in person. It was really unpleasant. The smell filled the air like a pungent perfume. I didn't know vampires smoked pot. Would it have any effect?
I made my way around the couches and I saw the body sprawled out on the finest couch. The silver stake in the middle of her chest probably put a damper on her festivities. A lighter and paraphernalia on the floor indicated she'd been mid puff when she died. "Where's the master's body?"
"That's her, Mary Moore."
Duh. I'd automatically assumed the master of the city would be a man. Not in this case. She'd probably been very beautiful before somebody put the huge chunk of metal through her heart. Long blonde tresses had been tied up with a strip of leather and the rest of her attire looked Native American, but a cheap imitation. Long dangling strips of leather hung from her arms and legs and had been decorated with cheap shiny beads. Hippie. I closed the distance and bent to examine the body a little closer.
Her head had been turned so I couldn't see her right eye from where I stood before. I'd missed the silver stake embedded in her brain. I should have known. If you're going to take out somebody strong enough to be master of the city, silver through the heart wouldn't always do it. The stakes were the kind fired from the snuff guns the FBI used. Whoever killed her had not only been a professional, but a damn good shot.
"I have a feeling it's the same vampires who killed the others and tried to kill the governor."
"How can you tell?" In the distance I heard footfalls echoing. I turned and saw Mahoney joining us. I guess he didn't want to wait in the car anymore.
"Because I took three of them in the back while protecting the governor," I told Devries.
"You took stakes for that bloodsucker? You should have ducked. Undead fuckers running for governor, what's next?"
I so couldn't resist. I turned toward him and flashed my fangs. "I know right, next thing you know they'll want to join the Bureau." I watched him turn from red to white and back again while the implications flashed through his head. He started backing away and tripped on one of the rugs, landing hard on his ass. Priceless. I ignored him and looked around some more.
If there had been any other evidence around, the CSI team had been very thorough. I looked with my vampire eyes for anything they might have missed and came up empty. I could smell the clove scent from the dead vampire and I could smell about fifty other vampires, but I had no way to tell which one belonged to our killer. Mary probably just entertained a lot.
"Were there any witnesses?" I turned to Devries who had picked himself off the floor.
"Not that we know of, agent." Oh, look who had turned into Mr. Formal.
"Great. I think I've seen enough. Would you mind taking me back to the helicopter?"
If I thought the club had been dead silent, the ride back to the chopper was worse. I didn't even get an apology. Not that I wanted one, but still. Some people could be so rude.
Chapter 16
"I'm sorry, the what?" I stared at Thompson incredulously.
"Governor's Ball," he annunciated slowly like I held the title of village idiot.
"I know what it is. I just can't believe you agreed to it. How the hell are we supposed to keep him safe?" I tried really hard not to slap some sense into him.
"You know Greer. 'I shall not be deterred by these terrorists.' I tried to talk him out of it."
"Yeah well, you shoulda tried harder. I want it in our file that I think this is a very, very bad idea."
"Me too, kid," Thompson said and took his size fifteen shoes off the coffee table in our hotel suite. With Marcel's departure, I worried that we would have to go back to our meager hotel rooms, but Thompson assured me Marcel insisted we stay right where we are. His treat.
"Where's Vic?" Thompson hit me with the news about the ball as soon as I'd walked into the suite. I guess he wanted to get it out of the way.
"She said she was heading to the ugly vampire club."
I laughed. "They're called nosferatu, Mr. Kittycat. Don't be rude."
"Whatever, all you bloodsuckers look the same to me." He winked.
I smiled at him. With Thompson, I didn't mind the vampire name-calling. I'd filled him in on what happened in San Jose on the phone once the helicopter landed. I left out the part about Devries' comments, and I debated telling him now. I'd been pretty opinionated about vampires myself; until I found out I could be counted among their ranks. Maybe I should just leave him to his prejudices. If I told Thompson, I'm sure he'd make a big deal about it and try to get Devries reprimanded. I didn't want that. The guy was a complete jerk, but he'd probably be a bigger one if I got him in trouble.
"Did you get my text about the governor's safety at the mansion?"
"Yeah, I doubled the guard at the mansion and made sure there were plenty of supes to help out. Turns out he has some werewolves on the state trooper detail. Shame they weren't working when his limo blew up. They might have survived it."
I nodded at him and debated what to do for the evening. Vic was out dancing and having a good time and Thompson seemed content to sit and flip channels between the dozen or so national news networks. My gods, he was boring. I debated sneaking up on Vic and having fun with her, but maybe she wanted a little time away from me. Then I thought of my seriously depleted closet of clothes without blood or holes in them. Maybe now would be a good time to replenish. I've never been a huge fan of shopping, but this time the thought of it didn't scar my soul.
"I'm going shopping, you wanna come?"
Thompson laughed.
* * *
The Arden Fair Mall seemed like a logical choice for shopping. I parked the b
ig SUV in the tiny mall parking spaces and tried to seem inconspicuous as I made my way through the glass entrance. I passed by a Sears and decided to forgo looking for clothes in there. All the suits I owned (that hadn't been destroyed) seemed kind of reserved. I wanted to start dressing a little nicer. Kinda like Will Smith at the end of MIB. I wished Marcel hadn't left. I had no idea what fashionable meant, let alone how to dress that way. Marcel had more fashion sense in his little pinky than most people in the fashion industry combined.
I stopped and looked around to get my bearings. Sears was behind me, and the closest stores ahead were someplace called a Wet Seal and Chico's. I looked briefly through the window of both, and while the Wet Seal appealed to my jean and T-shirt persona, neither exactly screamed business attire. I made my way down the entire length of the mall only to stop briefly at the counter at Starbucks to sit there and smell the coffee. I think I would give an appendage to try coffee. Finally, after what seemed an eternity I came across Macy's. Jackpot.
Several hours later, as well as several armfuls of bags, I reached my limit. I carried the items out to the car and loaded it up. Thankfully, I put the last bag in and shut the monstrous trunk when I dropped my keys. The simple fumble saved my life, or at least a pain in my neck. I mean that literally, the silver stake that shot through the window of the Suburban would have pierced my neck.
I crouched low and spun around. I looked everywhere before I spotted him on the roof of the mall. Motherfucker, how the hell did you know I would be at the mall? Even I hadn't known I would be at the mall. I stood and ducked between my SUV and the next. As soon as I stepped out to run over to the building another stake buried itself partially into the asphalt in front of my foot. Seconds later, I heard the telltale snuff, of the air-powered rifle. At least he wasn't running, that gave me a shot of catching the bastard.
