by Lauren Dawes
I caught Sawyer’s smirk at my words.
“It might be the last mistake you make, human.”
“Promises, promises,” I replied.
I was left with all four stakes and Reaver. I would kiss that damn sword if we got out of this alive. The two lackeys finished frisking us, then dumped my sidearm as well as Sawyer’s small arsenal of a gun, half a dozen knives, and a stake onto the table. The pair of vampires disappeared as quickly as they’d arrived, and I was left with a distinct case of vertigo.
Clearing my throat, I asked, “What’s with the bar on the door?”
Alistair said, “The kiss sleeps here. Having someone come through that door during the day would be a disaster. This way.”
I wanted to argue that it was evening and the vamps were awake right now, but I shut my mouth. The fact that the bar was on the door wasn’t the point. The point was Roxanne Monroe was flexing her dominance and power, and I wasn’t about to cry foul.
I half expected Alistair to take us into a parlor where sweet tea would be served. Alas, no such luck. Instead, the vampire led us down a long hallway before opening a door that revealed a void of darkness.
“I’ll wait out here,” I told Sawyer, eying the descending stairs that disappeared into nothingness. There was no way I was going to go down there when I had no idea what was waiting. It was like the start of every fucking slasher movie I’d ever seen.
“It’s not safe to be left on your own,” Alistair pointed out. “There are some vampires here that will claim they didn’t hear the mistress’s edict to do no harm to you and Sawyer. But if you come with me and stay by my side, on my honor, no harm shall come to you.”
I hated this. I hated that I had to trust a vampire with my safety while we were in the belly of the beast, but what other choice did I have? Swallowing hard, I gestured Sawyer to go ahead of me while I took the rear position. I reached out for the handrail, the metal cold as ice against my palm. My necklace started to heat up a bit, just a little warning, and I clung to it. Lower and lower we went, the basement stairs defying logic and the laws of physics it seemed. Water dripped somewhere deeper into the darkness, but I focused on a flicker of what I thought could be torchlight up ahead.
“You know, electricity is a wonderful invention,” I said offhandedly.
Alistair chuckled. “Vampires don’t need light to see in the dark.”
“Fantastic,” I deadpanned. “I was thinking more about your visitors.”
When we finally reached the bottom of the stairs, it felt as if we’d been walking for hours. More torches flickered in gothic wrought iron sconces on the walls, making the large cave we were standing in glow with warm yellow light. The walls flickered, the flames dancing on its smooth surface.
“I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto,” I whispered to myself.
There was a circle of vampires waiting for a us, and I wondered briefly whether there was another collective noun for a group of vampires. A seduction? A flock? I giggled, then sobered almost immediately. But come on, a flock of vampires? I got an image of white feathered birds begging for scraps at the beach. Then I imagined them as a late seventies band with a penchant for Aqua Net. I could go on.
“Something funny?” Sawyer asked softly.
“Just amusing myself,” I replied. “It stops me from having a full-blown panic attack.”
“I suppose laughter is better than screaming.”
“Is that what you say to all your dates?”
Sawyer blinked at me, then turned to face the bigger threat, because although I liked to think of myself as a threat, I was clearly not one. I was five foot four, so I could barely scare a kindergartener.
“Sawyer Phineas Taylor,” someone purred in a throaty voice. I jerked my head up to see a blonde woman stepping away from the circle of vampires, approaching us. She was wearing a dress that matched the era of the house, all frills, corsets, and petticoats. Did she not realize it was the twenty-first century yet?
“Roxanne Monroe, how nice to finally meet you.”
She held out her hand to him, and he kissed it, keeping his eyes on her face. “I’ve heard so many things about you.”
“All good, I hope.” With a wicked smile that matched the wicked gleam in her blue-lilac eyes, she turned her attention to me. My necklace grew a little hotter, and I sensed it was glowing. Thank God I had a thick sweater on to hide that fact.
I shifted uneasily on my feet as Roxanne sniffed me like I was a fine dinner… or a bag of blood. I guessed I was a glorified bag of blood. “And who is this delectable treat you’ve bought?”
“Officer Cat McKenzie,” I told her. “Sawyer’s partner.”
Roxanne turned her attention back to Sawyer. “Well, isn’t she delightful?” she drawled.
“See?” I asked him.
“It was a rhetorical question,” Sawyer shot back, never taking his eyes off the mistress of the kiss. “I assume Alistair has enlightened you on our current situation?”
She waved her long elegant hand through the air, then spun around, her skirts and petticoats kicking out around her ankles. “Yes, yes. Baby vampires running amok in Buxton.”
She glided to a chaise lounge I hadn’t seen pressed against one of the cave walls. Was this place where they hung out when they were entertaining, or was this their full-time living quarters?
“Correct. I was just wondering whether you could share some more information with us.”
She laughed throatily. Damn, talk about a phone sex voice. “Why would I help PIG, or humans for that matter?”
I bristled at the tone of disgust she used when she said ‘humans.’ I understood we were no longer the apex predator, but we didn’t need it rubbed in our faces all the time.
“They’re your food source,” Sawyer countered. “Why wouldn’t you want to protect them from a foreign vampire?”
“Foreign?” she asked, testing the word. “Is that what Ali told you?” She fixed the other vampire with a deadly stare.
Beside me, Alistair shifted from foot to foot. Really, it was quite unbecoming for a vampire his age to fidget. “I told them he was an acquaintance of yours from Italy, Mistress.”
“True enough,” Roxanne replied in a menacing tone. “But not quite the truth.” She looked around the cave, her gaze settling on every single one of her vampires before finally landing on me. I forced myself to stand still. She continued, “I knew him in Italy, but he was more my enemy than a friend.”
“Why did you let him come into your territory then?”
Roxanne narrowed her eyes at Sawyer, the temperature in the cave plummeting. “Leave us.”
I jumped at the command, but it wasn’t aimed at me or Sawyer. As the rest of the vampires moved away, I realized she was giving us privacy…or she was trying to hide something from her minions.
“You too, Alistair,” Roxanne added when he remained at my side. I glanced over my shoulder at him, startled to see his green eyes glowing faintly. There was a heartbeat of time where they simply stared at one another, both his and Roxanne’s expressions shifting ever so slightly as if they were having a mind-to-mind conversation. “Go,” she finally commanded.
Ali bent at the waist, bowing to his mistress. “As you wish.” The words were benign, but the anger in his clipped tone gave away his feelings about being dismissed.
Once Ali was gone, Roxanne said, “Can I get you something to eat or drink?”
Sawyer said, “We’re fine.”
She sighed, but the action looked forced, like she hadn’t done it in a long time. “Draco Vasilli is his name, and I don’t know why he’s here.”
“Yet you allow him to stay,” he said. “Why?”
The glare she gave him made me flinch, but Sawyer absorbed the blow effortlessly. “I don’t allow him anything,” she snipped. “He is more powerful and older than me. Therefore, I cannot stop him from doing as he wants in my territory.”
“You have a kiss at your disposal though.
Why not use your force?”
“Because Draco’s particular skills lie in manipulations of the mind. He can force anyone to bend to his will or make them believe any number of illusions he’s spun up to benefit himself.”
“Anyone?” I asked.
She turned her Elizabeth Taylor eyes on me, lilac flames bursting life. “Anyone. Draco is a plague among our species. He comes into a place, takes what he wants, then leaves it ravaged and barren.”
“It sounds like Draco has been a bad vampire,” I muttered.
“He has,” she replied in a smooth purr, effortlessly standing up from the chaise. She prowled toward me, coming to an abrupt stop less than a foot away from me. “And if it’s in your power to remove him from this earth, I believe I would find myself in your debt.”
“And how are we supposed to do that?”
Her gaze drifted down to my décolletage. “I know of a witch who can help.”
“Great, there are witches too?” I asked, getting blank looks from both Sawyer and Roxanne. I shrugged, unrepentant. “This has been an enlightening few days.”
Roxanne smiled like a viper. “Oh, you have no idea what else is out there.”
I held up my hand to stop here. “All I cared about was unicorns, and apparently, they’re not real.”
“They were in the Dark Ages,” the vampire replied, licking her fingers. “Absolutely delicious to eat.”
I blanched. That was like watching Bambi and then saying, ‘Let’s have venison for dinner!’ Argh, I felt sick.
“Alistair will have the witch’s details for you. If you rid this earth of Draco Vasilli, Cat McKenzie, I will be at your disposal whenever you need me.”
I didn’t know what to say. It was like having a tame tiger on standby. Thankfully, Sawyer saved me from awkwardness.
Bowing ever so slightly to Roxanne, he said, “Come on, Cat.”
I followed behind him, cursing when more scones came to life on the walls with a burst of flame. They illuminated the way up the stairs, revealing well-worn stone with dips in the center where centuries of foot traffic had worn them away. When we got back to the top, I screamed when Alistair appeared out of thin air.
I clutched at my chest. “Jesus Christ! Can you make a sound when you move? Please?”
The vampire gave me an amused look before saying to my partner, “The mistress said you needed this.” He handed him a piece of thick, folded paper.
Sawyer tucked the information into the inside pocket of his jacket. “Thanks.”
With a nod, Ali added, “Your weapons are where you left them on the front table.”
We re-armed ourselves, then left the house. I practically crawled onto the back of Sawyer’s bike in an effort to get us out of there even sooner. I wasn’t ashamed that I clung to him as he drove back down the driveway and out onto the main road, the headlights on his bike the only thing chasing the shadows away.
“When do we have to go and see the witch?” I asked.
Please say never. Please say never.
“I’ll call them tonight, but I don’t think it’ll be until tomorrow if I’m being honest.”
“I like honesty.”
He chuckled.
Fourteen
“We’re not done yet. We’re going out.”
I glanced up at Sawyer. “Now?” He opened his mouth, and I cut him off. “I know, crime doesn’t sleep.” Heaving a sigh, I stood up. We’d literally only come back to the office for a minute to divest ourselves of the stakes. I’d been slumped down in my chair for precisely thirty-five of those glorious sixty seconds. The office was empty, but not the building itself. There were still about two dozen cops working in other departments, all not getting involved in supernatural work.
“Where are we going?”
“The witch’s place. She returned my call and said she could meet us now.”
I stared forlornly at the clock on the wall. “It’s almost nine.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you have somewhere else to be? Got a hot date?”
I went to cross my arms, but stopped when my shoulder screamed at me. Settling my hands into my lap, I said, “And what if I did? I certainly wouldn’t be telling you.”
He leaned closer to me, making my heart rate lurch. I did my best to ignore his dark chocolate and smoky whisky scent. His sinful mouth curled up in the corner. “You don’t have a date. Come on. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can all go home.”
The witch, as it turned out, lived in my building. I was definitely going to have to look for somewhere else to live. On the plus side, I only had to climb one flight of stairs to get home. Hello, silver lining.
Sawyer knocked on the door with all the authority of a cop on a mission. It opened up a moment later, and the woman on the other side looked like she hadn’t bathed in a month. She kind of smelled like that too. Her dirty gray hair was loose around her face, but there were clumps of it that stuck up at odd angles. She couldn’t have been any older than fifty, but the way her shoulders rolled forward made it seem as if she’d seen a few more years on this earth than that. She would’ve been beautiful thirty years ago, but that beauty had long withered away.
“Ms. Flynn? Sharyn Flynn?” Sawyer asked.
She bobbed her head, her greasy hair sliding into her eyes. She shoved it out of the way with an impatient noise and narrowed her cool blue eyes at us.
“Who are you?”
“Alistair sent us,” he replied. “I’m Detective Taylor and this is my partner, Officer McKenzie. We were hoping you could help us.”
“Cops?”
“PIG,” Sawyer replied, reaching inside his jacket and pulling out a thick envelope, no doubt stuffed with cash. Had PIG foot the bill for the informant, or was this money from Sawyer’s own pocket? “For your trouble.”
She reached out with greedy fingers and stepped away from the door. I looked longingly in the direction of the elevators, wondering if I could simply go home and get the report later. Judging by the glare Sawyer gave me, that would be a hard no.
It was a struggle not to throw my arm over my nose when I stepped into the apartment. It smelled of blue cheese that had been left on a radiator for a week. I knew the smell because I’d ‘accidently’ done that to an ex-boyfriend in college. What? The bastard had cheated on me. That stunt was performed by restrained, past Cat.
I wasn’t nearly as forgiving now.
Layered with that blue cheese funk, there was smell of unwashed bodies and putrefaction. I wondered if the super knew what she was and what she was doing, but I’d bet my favorite unicorn statue that she was killing puppies and kittens in here too.
The layout was identical to mine–kitchen on the left, living room in front of me. To the right was a short hallway to the bathroom, bedroom, and a small storage closet. Unlike my apartment, the walls were painted a dark gray, almost black, and everything was coated in some kind of oily film.
“What do you need? Alistair was spare with the details,” the witch said impatiently, gesturing to the couch. Both Sawyer and I shook our heads. It looked like one of those sofas that was deep enough to hold you in place if you needed to get up unhindered. In other words, they were a fucking death trap.
“There’s a vampire turning kids. We need to find him before any more children are killed or turned needlessly.”
She clacked her yellow-stained teeth and cocked her head to the side. “I’ve heard stirrings of vampires.”
“Can you help?”
“Yes, but I need something either the vampire, or one of the vampire’s progenies has touched in the last twenty-four to forty-eight hours.” She stared directly at my throat, which was still covered by the neck of my sweater.
“Why do you need that?” I asked, resisting the urge to touch the spot her eyes lingered on.
“I can create a tracking spell, but I need to have something organic from the person you’re trying to track. If he’s creating vampires, any saliva or blood from one of them will do what I nee
d it to do.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Sawyer look at me pointedly. The bastard. He probably knew this, yet he couldn’t have given me a fucking warning?
I shrugged awkwardly out of my jacket and, despite feeling vulnerable, peeled the turtleneck sweater off too. “Fine. Yes, one of his vampires bit me. How is this supposed to work?”
The witch’s eyes lit up when she saw my opal necklace against my chest on the outside of my black tank top. A small hiss escaped her throat, and I drew the opal back under the fabric. She was going all my precious on it and freaking me out even more than I already was.
As soon as the stone wasn’t visible, she gave herself an avian shake and said, “I need something personal of yours. The necklace perhaps?”
“How about fucking no?” I replied defensively, folding my arms over my chest.
The woman shrugged like it was no big deal, but I saw the desperation in her eyes. “Blood will suffice.” Her words were cool and clipped.
“Ooo, another hard limit of mine. Sorry.”
“Cat,” Sawyer said softly. I glared at him. “This is our only chance.”
“I highly doubt that,” I shot back. I didn’t enjoy being backed into corners. I tended to get bitchy.
“Maybe you’re right, but how many more baby vampire attacks do we need to go and investigate? If we have a chance to catch this guy, shouldn’t we?”
I digested his words. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like that I seemed to be the one sacrificing everything here. My truck. My promise not to murder children. My staunch belief that all supernatural beings were evil monsters. Now, I was being asked to give up my blood. All so that Sawyer could catch a vampire.
“You will pay for this, Sawyer Taylor. I swear it.”
“Noted,” he replied. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You have no idea what kind of revenge I have in mind. I can be very creative.” Turning to the witch, I asked, “You can take one drop of blood.”
She shook her head. “Not enough. Too weak. Not enough,” she repeated. “A deep cut. Deep blood.”
