by J. A. Saare
“Take this one, John,” one of the men said.
“I didn’t pick her,” a deep voice complained.
“Tough shit. This is getting too risky. You want to know what it’s like? Then take advantage of the situation.”
“It’s his fault! We all agreed to pick dancers, not employees. He fucked it up by changing the rules at the last minute.”
“Shut the fuck up and do it. This has to end. Tonight. Before we all get caught.”
End tonight. Of course. There were four of them. Two strippers were dead. Deena was next on the menu. If they killed me it would even everything up and they could spend the next few years relieving their repulsive glory days.
My stomach bottomed out when someone grabbed a handful of my hair and yanked me to my feet. The tugging on the strands forced me to turn and face the man I assumed was John. He was one of the blonds with short hair. The last of the boys to take a drip into madness to learn what it felt like to end the life of another human being. I got a decent visual, planted my feet, and brought my right knee into his crotch. Softness met bone. He let go and yowled like a cat in heat.
“Get a handle on that crazy bitch!” The man who’d chosen Deena for the evening’s fucked up entertainment ordered. “The longer this takes, the bigger the risk.”
I watched him turn back to Deena, who had lost consciousness. He picked up the knife he’d dropped, and I knew if I didn’t do something right then he’d cut her throat. I started to make my move when I was grasped by the shirt and jerked forward. There was no way I could take on four men who were so much larger than me. It was impossible. Goose always told me to think smart, so I did. Left with no other choice, I did the only thing I could.
I screamed.
My call for help lasted a second or two. A fist connected with my mouth, creating a split I could feel from the crest of my upper lip all the way to the fuller bottom. The blow was hard enough to send me spinning, although somehow I did manage to remain standing. When a hand clasped around my throat, shoved me against the wall and lifted me into the air, I wanted to laugh at the irony.
Who would have thunk it? I was finally going to meet my end, and it wasn’t at the hands of a vampire, demon, or fallen angel. My ticket to the other side was provided courtesy of a perverted human cockbite.
He squeezed his fingers, applying pressure to my windpipe. I wrapped my hand around his wrists and tried to break free, gagging as I attempted to breathe, gurgling on my saliva. I kicked out with my legs as best I could, but since I was unable to touch the ground it didn’t do squat.
“So disappointing.” John’s gaze told me how unhappy he was I would be the one to introduce him to murder. “I don’t like brunettes.”
I peered from the corner of my eye and my heart sank. Deena was on the ground, a knife was against her throat, and the man who planned to fuck her as he killed her was unbuckling his pants. Unable to do anything else, I released my attacker’s wrist, brought my fingers to his face and raked my nails from his temple to his chin. The vampire strength ensured I removed skin—four rows of it to be exact—when I clawed him.
I hit the ground again as Johnny—the friendly neighborhood pervert—howled. But I didn’t get to enjoy my reprieve or use it to my advantage. You can only piss a man off in so many ways before he loses his temper.
A kick in the side isn’t the most painful thing in the world—I’d had worse—but repeated landings in the same spot were not a good thing. A snap and sharp bite of pain told me one or more of my ribs were probably cracked, and a dull cramp warned me he was dangerously close to my kidneys. I quickly wrapped my body into the fetal position, trying to protect my face. Another kick to my ribs was like pouring alcohol into an open wound. I screamed again and hoped like hell someone at the bar—Cletus, Butch, or Hector—heard and came running. I waited for the next kick, clenching my muscles to take the impact.
“That’s right, you little bitch,” John snarled. “You’re going to die slow.”
“I don’t think so,” a deep, dark voice interrupted.
I lifted my head from the shelter of my chest, peered up through my arms, and watched in astonishment as Bane—the arms dealer and someone I hardly knew—came to my rescue. He was dressed from head to toe in black, from the black cap on his head to the dark boots on his feet. The man who sold me several guns the day before wasn’t alone. The men with him were just as massive as Bane, with bulging muscles and tattoos.
The murderous bastards who attacked me tried to strategize, coming together in a semi-circle. Then odd sounds penetrated the alley, little poofs of some sort. It was only after the men dropped, and I saw their blood creating large puddles on the concrete, that I noticed the guns in the hands of Bane and another man.
“Someone call the police,” Bane said in a menacing voice, without looking at me, surveying the damage. “Keep it short and sweet. We’ve got to move.”
One of the men took a knee by Deena’s side, lifted her shirt, and examined her injuries.
“How bad is it?” Bane asked.
“The knife bounced off her rib. She’ll live.”
I managed to make it to my feet when Bane finally glanced at me. He strode over and wrapped an arm around my waist when I stumbled.
“What are you doing here?”
“I was in the area,” he replied evasively. He captured my chin between his thumb and forefinger and studied my face. “How about you? How bad are you hurt?”
“I’ll survive.”
“Figures,” he muttered and released my chin.
“What does?”
“You didn’t thank me when I cut you a deal. I’m not surprised you wouldn’t think about saying it now.”
The man had a point. “Thanks,” I mumbled in embarrassment.
“Not a problem. We’ve been looking for these assholes all week. I’m just sorry we didn’t make it here before your friend got hurt.” He waited until I was leaning against the wall to let me go.
“Why were you looking for them?”
He snorted. “I should ask you the same question.”
“Is that supposed to mean something?”
“Only that I know this area and the people who live on its streets. You talk to one of the squatters, I’ll find out about it.”
“You knew?” I couldn’t believe it. He knew I’d talked to the old homeless man?
“I know everything. My people own this side of the city. If something goes down, I’ll know within minutes. That’s the way it works, and it’s the only reason I cut you a break when we made our deal. Although I was surprised to learn a girl was putting her nose where it didn’t belong. Only someone with a death wish would be searching for a killer.” His gaze swept over my body. “Too bad you didn’t have protection on you. Then you could have taken care of business with minimal questions asked.”
“An unmarked gun?” I tried to laugh, but stopped when my side cramped. “No way. I have a license to carry, but if the cops caught me with one of those I’d lose it and wind up in jail. Time behind bars isn’t something I’d like to experience.”
“Better than getting raped and killed.”
Excellent point. “I’ll remember that next time.”
“Why did you want those guns and so much ammo?” Bane’s voice lowered, becoming soft. “I know it wasn’t for protection.”
It was for protection, but I couldn’t tell him that. If I did, he’d ask for protection against what. He’d really think I’d fallen off my rocker if I said, “Oh well, you know, I have vampires who want to kill me. Better to have some silver rounds to hold them off just in case.”
If only I could say that, my life would be so much simpler.
Instead, I sighed. “A girl’s gotta have some secrets.”
“From the looks of it, you have secrets that will get you killed.”
“Doesn’t everyone?” Considering what he did for a living, I was sure he had a few targets on his back.
He opened his mouth to say s
omething when police sirens echoed in the distance. We both looked in the direction of the noise, knowing they’d be on the scene in minutes.
“Listen up,” Bane said and took a step back. “You came upon the scene, you saw what was happening, and you tried to help. They attacked you, gang members showed up and offered assistance and fled when they heard the cops coming. That’s the story. Stick to it. You don’t remember faces and you don’t remember names. Got me?”
“You want me to lie?”
“Not a lie, bending the truth. Besides...” He cracked a grin. “If we get called in, so do you. I won’t hesitate to tell them what our connection is, and you wouldn’t want that. Would you?”
There was that. “You’re actually going to blackmail me?”
“Whatever it takes.” He motioned to the men with him, and they started hurrying from the alley. Then he faced me one last time. “You’ve got a mark on you.” He lifted his hand but stop shorting of touching my neck. “I noticed it the first time we met.”
He knew about the mark. Shit. How could he? Was he aware vampires existed? That they thrived in the city he considered his?
“What would you know about that?”
“More than you’d be comfortable with.”
“Try me.”
His grin was pure evil. “You have to be a newbie. Only someone fresh on the scene would buy weapons with silvers bullets and not recognize what’s selling them.”
What’s selling them? What did that mean?
“You can share at any time.” I snarked, no longer riding an adrenaline high, coming down to shaky ground.
“What do you think I am?”
At the moment, I was drawing a huge blank. I had no idea what Bane was. “Something that answers questions with questions?”
“There’s that.”
To hell with it. I was going to ask. The nagging inner voice wouldn’t let it go.
“Are you a shifter?”
I’d met plenty of lycanthropes during my trip to the future. Bane was large and mean enough to qualify as one, and I’d learned vampires and shifters weren’t exactly friendly with each other when I made a trip into the future. Maybe that’s what he was—a shifter of some kind—and recognized my mark because of it.
He answered without blinking. “I’m something worse.” His eyes swept from my head to my toes, assessing me for injuries. When the trip was over, he lifted his head and met my gaze. “You better grow eyes in the back of your head, princess. I might not be around next time.”
Instead of bestowing a sarcastic retort about him calling me princess, I replied through gritted teeth. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
He moved closer, so I could hear his softly spoken words. “You remember what I said. With that mark on your throat, you’re likely to need a friend at some point. You’re not the first person to be sucked into a life you don’t want with no way to escape, and you won’t be the last. No one associates with vampires without getting hurt. If and when you get a clue, give me a call.”
I wanted to stop him when he walked away, to get some fucking answers for a change, but as quickly as he appeared he was gone.
The police arrived two minutes later.
Chapter Ten
I had planned on leaving work and returning to Disco’s. I had planned on handing over the knife to Marius and finding some measure of relief, no matter how small.
The New York Police Department had other things in mind.
Childhood flashbacks had flooded my mind when I’d stepped into the building, taking me back to another time and place. Even though I’d been questioned about the death of my foster father in a temporary home—until I could be relocated—for some strange reason police stations reminded me of Ray. Maybe it was the uniforms, or because I knew when I stepped into their inner sanctum I had to live by their rules. Either way, I wasn’t pleased when the medical unit had looked me over, deemed me safe to transfer to the station, and I had been brought in to answer questions.
By the time I’d finished, it was past six in the morning. The popo had taken me to the station, grilled me over the coals despite the fact I told them the same story and had refused to relent with their questioning until I’d fallen asleep at their cheap-ass interrogation table. Someone shook me awake later, telling me it was okay to go home. The only bonus was the police were so concerned with Deena that none of them had remarked about how quickly my split lip seemed to heal, or how lucky I was to escape without a bruise or broken bone after such a brutal assault.
When I’d asked about my co-worker and friend, I learned she was going to be just fine. Turned out Deena was resting comfortably in the hospital and would be back to fighting form in no time—at least physically. I’d seen her put up with some crazy shit at the bar, but she’d never been attacked at knife point and almost raped. I had a good feeling her experiences were going to require a dose of counseling and time to get over.
There wasn’t a big enough jimmy club in this world to conquer her demons now.
The detective who’d introduced himself as Andrew Cohen gave me his card, told me to call if I thought of anything else and sent me on my way. I knew Disco had to be pissed I hadn’t called him. I’d promised I’d be home after work and that I wouldn’t keep him waiting. Not only had I kept him waiting, but it was almost dawn. More than likely Marius was already planning my early demise, convinced I couldn’t be trusted.
My thoughts turned to Bane.
What in the hell had he been doing in that alley? True, he could have been looking for the men who were attacking women like he said. It wasn’t uncommon for people to take matters into their own hands when it came to crime in the city. Of course, it was uncommon for people to run around hunting down vampires.
What was the connection? Was there one? As far as I knew he didn’t know either of the deceased victims. Had he been watching me? Hoping to scope out vampires? I quickly ended that notion. I’d traveled to Disco’s home already. If Bane wanted a piece of the Master of New York he knew where to get it. Perhaps he’d stalked out my place of employment because of the person I reminded him of? Maybe he decided to swing by to check things out after I got off work? Most of the clubs shut down after 2:00am. There was also a good chance it was blind luck.
Then again, maybe it was something else.
I’m something worse. What kind of something worse? Was he the man he appeared to be? A simple gun dealer and part-time vigilante? Or was he something more?
Shape shifter.
He moved with a grace that was fluid, and he killed the men in the alley without hesitation. Just like the werewolves in the future would have. When it came to the pack, or protecting their territory, there were no limits. Life, death, none of it mattered. They lived and breathed for each other. If more shifters lived in the city, Bane was probably the alpha, which meant he had to keep peace on the streets.
The thoughts of Bane were obliterated when I exited the station and saw Hector’s waxed and shiny Mercedes waiting out front. The black paint was as pristine as the day he drove it off the lot, the chrome rimmed tires gleaming. He opened the driver’s side door and climbed out as I came down the stairs. I tried to mask my shock. I couldn’t believe he’d come to the police station. Maybe they’d brought him in for questioning, too.
“I’ve been waiting for you. They said it wouldn’t be much longer. I figured you might want a ride home.”
“A ride home would be nice.” I tried to smile, to show some level of bravado as I approached his vehicle, but it was piss poor. Although I was healing fast, I was tired and achy.
“Hop in.”
He slid into his seat and closed the door as I did the same. The leather smelled brand new, and there was no trace of cigar smoke. Hector might light up a spiff at work, but not in his baby. We bucked our seatbelts and settled in. Something nudged my feet and I glanced down. The large UPS box was there, as well as my duffel and coat.
“I saw you stuff them under the counter. I didn’t
want you to have to make a trip to the club.”
“Thanks.” I brought the box into my lap first, tossed the duffel on top, and retrieved the amulet from my jacket. I hesitated for a second before I put it on. Jesus, it was like a drug, calming me the instant I put the leather around my neck and the stone settled against my shirt.
“You want me to take you to your apartment?”
I closed my eyes and rested my head on the cushioned seat. “Sounds like a plan.”
Hector started the car, pulled onto the street, and we drove in silence for several minutes. I didn’t mind. I was exhausted. Knowing I had to return to Disco, explain what had happened, and go through another round of questioning didn’t help.
I was just thinking about the many things Disco might say when Hector interrupted the quiet. “I’ve made a decision about the club. I’ve already told Deena.” I peered at him from the corner of my eye and he was clenching his fists on the steering wheel, unhappy about something.
“What have you decided?”
“I’m hiring new bartenders. Keeping the dancers safe is hard enough without worrying about you and Deena. Having a couple of extra men in the club will tone things down and ramp up safety.”
“You what?” I said, faulting my ears. I had to have heard wrong. It wasn’t possible.
His curt, “You heard me,” proved me wrong. I hadn’t heard him wrong. He did just say he was hiring new bartenders.
Hell no.
“Hold up.” I squirmed in the seat and faced him. “You can’t do that. I need my job.”
“I’ll give you and Deena glowing recommendations. Neither of you will have to worry about finding work, I promise. I’ve even put in a few calls. There are several restaurants that need talented staff behind the bar uptown. You’ll make better tips, and you’ll be in a safer environment.”
“You didn’t hire me because I was safe,” I snapped, remembering how and why he’d offered me a job. After I’d shoved a drunken asshole’s face into a bowl of peanuts at my previous employer’s bar—something Hector had seen with his own eyes—I was as good as hired. “You hired me because I’m capable of defending myself. That’s why you gave me a job. Don’t give me that shit.”
