by Margaret Carter, Crystal Green, Erica Orloff, Patricia Rosemor
Staring at the oozing blood, I couldn’t stop myself from saying, “What you want is sick.”
“Come on, Caldwell,” Norelli urged. “Loosen up. Give us a little lesbo action up close and personal. It’s damn boring out here.”
The woman sighed and appeared disappointed. “Oh, you’re one of those. Open your mind, honey—it’s the only way to fly. You really should try it sometime.”
She was sliding her hand down into the front of her pants. That was all I could take. I bolted out of there as fast as I could.
“What’s going on?” Norelli demanded to know.
“I’m leaving the scene. That might have been some sick shit, but it was consensual.”
“What kind of sick?”
“The kind where the hostess gets off while she sucks her guest’s blood.”
“Mother F!”
“Right. But both parties are alive and apparently happy.”
“I don’t know about that. The fangbanger apparently wanted you, Caldwell.”
“Go to hell.”
“Hey, some girl-on-girl action might loosen you up, and—”
“I can’t hear you, Norelli,” I singsonged and removed my earpiece and pocketed it.
Silently, I descended into the kitchen, careful not to give the caterer a clue as to where I’d been. “I’m back for those appetizers.”
“Right here,” she said, indicating a couple of loaded trays.
Smiling tightly, I transferred the snacks from the kitchen to the dining-room table.
I don’t know how I worked the rest of the party without giving myself away, but somehow I managed it. And every once in a while, I caught a glance of the bar owner. Desiree glowed from the inside out. No longer wan, she was more beautiful than ever, vivacious, the life of the party. Her guests seemed drawn to her, as if they wanted a piece of whatever it was she had to offer.
Or maybe that was just me imagining things. If nothing else, she had regained her strength.
As if the blood had worked some magic on her.
Eventually the blond sex partner came back downstairs. She was obviously still turned on and ready for more. She looked right through me, and I was relieved that I saw no hint of recognition. When she tried to get close to the object of her desire, Desiree merely tolerated her fawning. I sensed the bar owner was already looking for another sex partner. Someone else who would indulge her sick fantasies.
Only Jake sensed my disgust. I could tell, even though he didn’t say anything to me during the rest of the party. Around 4:00 a.m., most of the guests were gone and I was beyond exhausted. I noticed Desiree had disappeared, undoubtedly with another fangbanger, as Norelli had dubbed them.
We were cleaning up when Jake broke the silence between us and asked, “So what happened to get you so upset?”
“Nothing,” I lied. Norelli was still listening in and I wasn’t about to give him an earful.
I dropped the last of the wandering beer bottles into a plastic garbage bag and left it against the wall behind the makeshift bar.
“It’s something,” Jake insisted, setting stemmed glasses of various shapes in a plastic carton that would go to the caterer in the kitchen.
“If you say so.”
Not wanting to be pressed further, I walked off and headed for the powder room. I felt Jake’s gaze on me all the way. Under different circumstances, I might be turned on, but tonight had been way too weird for me.
Once inside the powder room, I spoke in a low voice. “Norelli, we’ll be cleared out of here in a few minutes, so I’m signing off. You and Walker go home. I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
Hopefully, they would actually leave. I should go back to the office, of course, to turn in the equipment and to write up a report. But it was half-past four in the morning, coming up quickly on dawn.
Screw the report. It could wait until tomorrow.
I needed some sleep. More than that, I needed a drink. I thought about having a double of anything before I left, but decided I didn’t like the eerie atmosphere of the place. And I didn’t want to give a certain bartender the chance to give me the second degree.
Jake was standing at the cleaned bar, looking ready to leave.
“I’m gone,” I said.
“Desiree won’t like it if you leave before she dismisses you.”
I wasn’t liking Desiree much at this point, but I kept that thought to myself. “If she shows, tell her I was all played out.” And let her do with that information what she chose.
Jake didn’t argue and I took off.
First thing I did when I got outside, I checked for Norelli’s car. Gone. Good. I didn’t need him ragging on me for removing the earpiece. I was too tired to fight with him.
But not too tired to remember what little I’d seen go on in Desiree’s quarters as I drove home. The violence of the sex act had sickened me, as had my inability to do anything to stop it. Well, legally, anyway. There were lots of sick bastards in this world. I knew that. I just didn’t want an up-close-and-personal look at their perverted activities.
I was grateful to find a parking spot practically in front of my doorway. I didn’t have much left in me as I climbed the stairs to my apartment. To my shock, Jake was waiting for me in front of my door again.
“It’s late, Jake.”
“We need to talk.”
“Tomorrow.”
“It is tomorrow.”
He was blocking my path. If I didn’t give in, I might never get inside my apartment.
“All right. Come in. I’ll give you five minutes.”
Once inside, I looked for the cats, but they weren’t waiting for me at the door as usual. Sarge was sitting in the bedroom doorway, his eyes wide as he stared at Jake. In the middle of the living area, Cadet made a weird growling sound, fluffed out her tail and ran into the bedroom. Sarge whipped around and followed her.
“That’s weird. They’re usually okay with strangers. Sarge, Cadet, din-din. C’mon, kitties, come out and eat.”
But the cats didn’t respond. I set out their food in case they changed their minds and then I poured myself a drink. Not the red wine I might normally choose, but a shot of straight añejo tequila, aged long enough to be reminiscent of whiskey.
“Want some?” I asked Jake.
“Don’t need it.”
“Well, I do.”
I downed the shot and appreciated the burn as it hit my gut.
“So talk,” Jake said.
“I thought you were the one who wanted to do the talking,” I said, feeling my body relax from the tequila.
“I will, but you go first. What happened at the party that got you so upset?”
“I was an involuntary Peeping Tom. I got a load of Desiree in action.”
“Action?”
“Sex with a twist.” Thinking about it, I poured myself a second shot and downed that one, too. “She mainlined her sex partner’s blood.”
“That would explain it.”
I threw myself down on the sofa. “There’s some explanation here?”
“When Desiree rejoined the party she was so much more…vital than she has been all week.”
I shivered. “What she did was disgusting.”
“I agree. But feeding on human blood is what vampires do to stay undead.”
Chapter 16
There was that vampire thing again. And Jake was staring at me straight-faced. Surely he meant vampire cult.
There was only one other possibility I was willing to consider. “You mean in mythology.”
“I mean in real life.”
I was afraid of that. I shook my head. “Jake, I’m too blasted tired for this.”
He sat in the chair across from me, his elbows on his knees as he leaned toward me. “You have to face it, Shelley. You’ve seen Desiree—in action, as you called it—for yourself. How can you not believe what I’m saying?”
“You want me to believe that Desiree is a vampire. A real, bloodsucking vampire.”
“You witnessed the bloodsucking part for yourself.”
“We almost saw Elvin Mowry do the same thing to that girl Annie.”
“Not the same,” Jake argued. “He’s playing at it, imitating the master.”
I frowned at his use of the word master, but I didn’t question it. Was that supposed to be like the sire I’d read about?
Still not believing him, I said, “So, you think Desiree is our murderer.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Then what are you trying to say?”
“Just that not every vampire is a murderer, so I’m not ready to jump to conclusions about Desiree. Vampires don’t need to kill to stay undead. Instead, they develop a parasitic relationship with a donor. Or with multiple donors. But they don’t drink enough blood to kill them. That would be wasteful.”
I decided to humor him, to see how far he would take this twisted fairy tale. “Then why are people dying?”
“There are psychopathic vampires just like there a psychopathic humans. But I think the one you call a murderer is a vampire who wants companions, so he or she is turning young women to serve him or her.”
“Like a harem? What about the homeless men who’ve died?” I asked, before realizing I’d told him something that maybe I shouldn’t have.
I watched Jake register the new information. He didn’t challenge me, but he looked disappointed, as if he’d expected me—a cop—to tell him everything.
He finally said, “The new ones need to feed and they don’t have control of their appetites yet. That takes time. And practice. In effect, they’re greedy children. And the master hasn’t managed to rein them in.”
I felt as removed from these crazy suppositions as if I were listening to Jake tell a ghost story. “This is all too unbelievable.”
I whipped off the couch and considered getting myself another drink. Then I thought better of it. That might make me too vulnerable to Jake. I’d been suppressing feelings for him since Mom told me that Jake DeAtley didn’t exist. But now my mixed emotions were tearing me up inside.
“I know you don’t want to believe that vampires really exist,” Jake said, getting up and stepping into my path. “But you need to start thinking outside the box for once in your life. I want you to know what you’re up against. This vampire is devious and dangerous. This one will do whatever is necessary to stay undetected by humans. That means you’re not safe.”
“It sounds like you know a lot more than you’ve been telling me,” I said, unconvinced I was in great danger.
“You’re right. I am familiar with this particular vampire’s style—drinking from the median cubital vein, the one in the elbow where medical types draw blood.”
He turned his arm and indicated the very spot I’d seen Thora cut. And it was the place that Mowry had intended to cut Annie, though it wasn’t where the homeless men had been drained. The homeless men had gotten it in the neck, the way I’d seen Desiree bleed the blonde.
Not that I actually believed in real vampires.
But Jake went on. “I’ve been moving from country to country trying to catch up to the killer vamp, but I’m always one step behind. When I got to Chicago, I did some checking on Desiree. I couldn’t find anything to indicate that she was in the right place at the right time. It doesn’t eliminate her, but it doesn’t incriminate her, either.”
“Let’s just say that I believe you.” Which I didn’t, of course. “You’ve known Desiree was a vampire. How?”
“Let’s call it…vibrations,” he said cryptically.
“How many other vibrations have you recognized?”
“Here? Only one other, but he seems to have vanished. But again, that doesn’t prove anything. He could simply have gone underground.”
That reminded me of the tunnels under the city and Sheena’s reference to them as the lair that Mowry talked about.
“If the master is very, very old and adept at being a chameleon, I probably wouldn’t be able to sense enough to make an identification. “
“What are you, some kind of vampire slayer?”
“My mother was a vampire.”
It took me a moment to register Jake’s meaning. That he was a vampire?
“Right. So where are your fangs?”
Jake glared at me and moved closer.
I stepped back, away from him, saying, “Come any closer and I’ll flatten you.”
Heat seared me and I recognized it as anger. Anger coming from him. The heat dissipated but the fear it wrought in me didn’t. Jake was a dangerous man, but of course I’d known that all along.
I was ready for him, though after seeing him at work in the cult’s nest taking care of Mowry’s minions, I knew how strong he was. Could I take him on some tequila added to a day filled with exhausting stress?
But he wasn’t making his move, and I was grateful for that.
“I’m not a vampire in the truest sense. My mother was already pregnant with me when the master got hold of her. My blood was affected, but not to the same extent, because somehow I didn’t ‘die’ as she did while being turned.”
His voice was calm but I read pain in his eyes. It gave me the oddest feeling, as if I should comfort him. He moved away from me and stopped in front of the window, where he stared out into the dark.
“Normally, she wouldn’t have a choice but to follow and to do as commanded,” he went on. “But her hormones were all screwed up due to the pregnancy—at least that’s her theory of how she fought it—and the master wasn’t able to hold on to her.”
“And she never identified the master in any way?”
Jake faced me and shook his head. “She didn’t want to put me in any more danger. She knew how angry I was at what she had to do to survive.”
“So you’re saying your mother used humans for their blood.”
The repulsive words stuck in my throat. I could hardly believe I was giving them credibility, but when I looked at Jake, he appeared absolutely serious. And tortured by what he was telling me.
“My mother hated having to feed. She swore to me she never killed anyone. She stayed on this earth for me, Shelley. To give me life. To protect me. She made sure no one ever turned me.”
I remembered his reaction to the cut on my arm, when my blood had bubbled with the hydrogen peroxide. “But if she was turned while you were inside her…”
“I told you I wasn’t a vampire in the truest sense. I’ve never tasted human blood myself. It’s not that I haven’t been tempted, but when I can think clearly, the idea repulses me. And I don’t need to drink blood to stay alive.”
“You’ve been tempted?” The thought made my stomach turn over.
He began pacing again, as if trying to flee the truth.
“I imagine it’s like a recovering alcoholic wanting liquor or a recovering drug addict needing a fix. Only I’m not recovering in that sense of the word, because I’ve never gone there. But I am aware that blood could be an addiction for me, just like liquor or drugs would be to an average human.”
Average rather than normal. Good choice of words. I listened to him go on with a sense of unreality. As he spoke, I became more distant from the situation. I felt as if I were viewing this scenario from afar. Like watching a movie.
A really bad B movie in which I was the star.
“I can see you still don’t actually believe me,” Jake said. “Remember your first night at the bar and your encounter with the groper? How do you think I knew about the how-many-bones-in-the-human-hand comment? And I’m the one who heard the voices that led us to the vampire cult’s hangout. I didn’t need a light to find you in the tunnels. My senses are all heightened. And my speed and strength.”
“Just like a vampire?”
“Exactly like a vampire.”
“So you can’t go out in sunlight?”
“My skin is sensitive to sunlight, my eyes more so, but I’m not a creature of the night. And I don’t need blood to survive. I age normally, too, although I
assume I’ll die like a normal person. I won’t test out that theory until I have to.”
If he thought I’d be amused by his tall tale, he had another think coming.
I felt…let down.
I’d liked Jake. I’d felt challenged by him. But now I was wondering how I’d gotten so deeply involved with a nutcase. A nutcase who was playing me for some reason.
“I told you I was after the one responsible for my mother’s death, the master, the one who turned her. Her conversion wasn’t voluntary. And she couldn’t stand the life. So once I was grown and able to be on my own, she simply walked into the sun and committed suicide.”
He’d told me before that she’d burned to death; now he was talking about vampire suicide.
It was all too much for me to take in.
“You’ve given me a lot to think about.” Not that I actually believed any of it. But perhaps there were truths I could learn from his story if I was less exhausted and more sober. “I want to think about it alone. In case you didn’t get it, that was your invitation to leave.”
“I’ll go. I can understand your need to think about this. Only don’t think too long.”
Though I wondered if Jake had some time limit for me, I didn’t ask. What was the use? This whole thing was insane. He was insane.
Or very, very clever.
But try as I might, I couldn’t think of Jake as a criminal. I didn’t really think he was trying to trick me. Either he was sincere but misguided or he was out of his mind.
The moment the door closed behind them, the cats reappeared.
“So what’s going on with the two of you?” I asked, realizing they were staring at the door.
They still seemed stressed.
Just like me.
My psychic cats must have been sensing and absorbing it themselves.
I threw myself in bed fully clothed and slept awhile, but I hadn’t adjusted the blinds and the morning sun crept through them to wake me. Sarge had wrapped himself around my head, and when he realized I was awake, he started purring and exercising his claws in my scalp.
“Hey, watch that!” I warned him, taking his front paws in my hand so he couldn’t continue. “No, Sarge.” He stopped flexing but kept purring anyway.
