Murder in Vein

by Sue Ann Jaffarian

  "So this is the girl," the woman announced rather than asked as Madison reached the table.

  "Madison," Dodie said with a smile. "I want you to meet a good friend of ours. This is Stacie Neroni. She's an attorney who does a lot of work for the community."

  Stacie held out her hand to Madison, who took it with a slight hesitation. They shook, and Madison noticed that Stacie's hand was ice cold.

  "You're a-," Madison started to say as she took her seat.

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Stacie said, cutting her off with a wave of her hand. "I'm a vampire attorney. I know, go ahead and say itit's redundant." Her words came at Madison fast and aggressive, like the beat of a hard metal rock song but without the harshness. "I've heard it all before," Stacie continued with a smirk. "`Bloodsucking should come easy to me. It's a natural career step. I want to bite your wallet' In the forty-two years since I was turned, I've heard it all."

  "Turned?" Madison ventured.

  "Turned," Dodie answered her, "means when Stacie became a vampire. It's the term we use to denote the event of going from living to undead."

  Stacie studied Madison, making a frank and speedy assessment. "Bet you're learning a lot in a short time. Bet it's more than you want to learn, too."

  Madison looked directly into Stacie's brown eyes. Attorney or not, vampire or not, Madison's gut was telling her to like and trust the woman. She could see that Dodie did. "When it's TMI, I'll let you know."

  "TMI?" asked Dodie.

  "Too much information," Madison and Stacie answered in quick unison.

  The attorney smiled at Madison. "I think I'm going to like you, Madison Rose." Before Madison could answer, Stacie shifted her brain into a higher gear. "So tell me what happened Saturday night. What do you remember? Did you see anyone besides the creep who grabbed you?"

  "I've already told Detective Notchey everything," Madison answered.

  "So now tell me," Stacie pressed. "Everything"

  Madison looked over at Dodie. The older woman smiled and gave her an assuring nod.

  "Like I told Notchey, I came out of the diner where I work. I was alone and it was late, after one in the morning. We stay open late on Saturday nights to feed the club crowd. It was very dark in the parking lot." Madison scrunched her eyes in thought. "Now that I think of it, it was darker than usual, like the light back there was burned out or something."

  "See," Stacie said, "sometimes new details crop up in the retelling. Things you might have forgotten before."

  Before continuing, Madison took a drink from her coffee, which was now cool. "I was about to get into my car when I felt someone come up from behind and hit me hard. It happened fast, too fast for me to react. I must have blacked out, because when I came to, I was tied and gagged and in the trunk of a car. Turned out to be my own car." Madison focused on the tabletop to keep her concentration. "When the car stopped, he dragged me out of the trunk and into a small clearing. He smacked me around a bit, then threw me to the ground. Then ... nothing."

  "Nothing?" Stacie asked. She frowned, causing her bangs to fall farther over her eyebrows.

  "Nothing," Madison repeated. "After dumping me on the ground, he grabbed a beer and sat down against a tree, like he was waiting for someone. When I started to struggle, he moved over to me. That's when ... that's when..." Madison looked over at Dodie.

  "That's when," Dodie finished for her, "Doug and I arrived. We were taking a moonlight stroll through the woods when we saw that Bobby person crouched over her and thought he was going to kill her."

  Stacie aimed her frown at Dodie. "Too bad you two didn't take this guy alive. We could have gotten some answers out of him."

  Dodie straightened her shoulders. "I'm afraid Douglas got a little carried away," she said in defense of her husband. "But his heart was in the right place. Our only thought at the time was to save the girl, not to capture her assailant."

  "Then I hope the creep was at least tasty." Stacie delivered the line in a well-timed one-two sarcastic punch.

  "I can assure you, Stacie," Dodie told her, her lips pursed in displeasure at being chastised, "Samuel gave us a thorough and well-deserved tongue lashing last night."

  Turning back to Madison, Stacie prodded further. "You saw no one else?"

  "No one, except for Doug and Dodie. But Bobby did seem to be nervous, and whoever it was he was waiting for seemed to be late."

  "You knew this Bobby guy?" Stacie asked as if grilling a witness in court.

  "Not really," Madison answered. "Like I told Notchey, he'd come into the diner a few times. Tried to chat me up in the last few weeks, but he didn't appear nuts or anything."

  A waitress brought Madison another coffee drink. When she started to protest, Dodie said, "Don't worry, I asked them to make it with decaf. Can't have you up all night like us."

  Madison gave Dodie a small smile and wrapped her hands around the warm mug. The restaurant was chilly, but no one seemed to notice but her. She looked from Dodie to Stacie and continued her story. "Today Mike Notchey brought some photos by for me to look at. He said they were people who had vampire clubs or cults here in LA. Asked me if I'd ever seen any of them before."

  Stacie sat erect with interest. "And had you?"

  Madison shook her head. "Nope, not unless they looked different from the photos when I did. Several were in goth makeup in the pictures."

  Madison paused to take a drink. She started to say something else, then took another drink. Finally, she took a deep breath and continued. "He also showed me other photos ... photos taken of the dead women." When she started to say something else, a choked sob came out of her mouth, but her eyes remained dry. Slapping her right hand over her mouth, she squelched further sobs and fought to control her emotions.

  Without warning and without regard to Madison's distress, Stacie grabbed at Madison's left hand, which was nearest to her. Madison instinctively pulled it back.

  "Let me see your hand, Madison," Stacie insisted.

  After a slight hesitation, Madison let Stacie take her left hand. The attorney examined it closely.

  "What's with all the hand grabbing?" Madison asked after taking several deep, cleansing breaths. "Notchey did the same thing today. And last night I had a dream about a guy checking out my hand."

  Dodie looked at Madison with concern but leaned toward Stacie, who was still scrutinizing Madison's left palm. "We told you, Stacie, she doesn't have the bloodline."

  Madison snatched her hand back from Stacie. "What in the hell is a bloodline?"

  "TMI?" Dodie asked Stacie.

  "No," Madison said before Stacie could reply. "In this case, it's not enough information. So what's with my hand?"

  Instead of answering, Stacie pumped Madison for more answers. "You dreamed about someone looking at your hand? What did the guy look like? Maybe you did see someone and it's buried in your subconscious."

  "He was a black man," Madison answered. She dug back into the part of her brain that stored dreams. "And bald, I think. But he didn't grab my hand rudely, like you and Notchey. He held it gently, like a boyfriend, and traced the lines on my palm." She took a drink of coffee. "Oddest thing," she continued. "Even though it was night, he was wearing sunglasses."

  Stacie swung her head in Dodie's direction, the end of her long ponytail nearly hitting Madison. "That true?" she demanded.

  Dodie nodded. "Yes. He came by last night to see her and to discuss what's happening."

  "Okay, guys," Madison said, holding up both of her hands in protest. "Just hold on a minute." She turned to Dodie. "Are you telling me that I didn't dream that guy holding my hand?"

  Dodie squirmed a bit. "Technically, dear, you did dream it. You were asleep when it happened. But, yes, someone came by last night, and he checked your hand. And he looks exactly as you described him."

  "Whoa!" Madison pushed back from the table. A few people nearby turned to look at them, but one steely look from Stacie Neroni sent them back to their own business.

  Madiso
n shook her head to clear it. "Just when I'm thinking I can go along with this whole vampire thing, something even creepier happens." When neither woman said anything, Madison asked again, "So what's with my left hand?"

  When Dodie started to answer, Stacie stopped her. "I'll handle this."

  Stacie turned her attention to Madison and held out her hand. "Give me your left hand again"

  Madison hesitated, then scooted back to the table and put her left hand into Stacie's cold right one.

  "First," Stacie began, "you have to understand that vampires aren't created randomly. You don't become one simply by being bitten by a vampire or by drinking a vampire's blood. If that were true, there would be a lot more of us running around. Certain people are predisposed to becoming vampires. Only they can become vampires and only if a certain action occurs between them and another vampire. People not predisposed will never become vampires, no matter what happens."

  Stacie looked at Madison to see if she was following. Assured she had the girl's full attention and understanding, Stacie continued. "There is only one way to tell if a person is predisposed toward immortality-a mark, so to speak."

  "And that mark is on a person's left palm?" Madison asked.

  "Yes."

  Madison looked down in horror at her left palm resting in Stacie's hand. "And am I marked?"

  "No, that's the thing," Stacie explained. "We were able to view the bodies of all the other victims, or at least the ones we know of, and they were." Stacie traced several of Madison's lines with a fingertip. Madison wiggled her fingers when it tickled.

  "You see," Stacie said, showing Madison, "people who are marked for becoming vampires have an extra lifeline. It doesn't always show up in the same place on the palm like the usual lifeline, but it's there. Usually, it's a dark brownish red, like brick red, but not always. And it's not always obvious, but it is noticeable to someone who knows what they're looking for. We call it a bloodline."

  Madison pulled her hand away and studied it before looking up again at Dodie and Stacie. "So you two have this bloodline on your hands?"

  "Not anymore," Dodie answered.

  "Once someone becomes a vampire," Stacie continued, "the bloodline disappears. It's only noticeable on people who have the potential of becoming vampires." She shrugged. "Who knows, maybe it was put there so we could identify those who could become vampires, then it disappears so others can't identify us after we've turned."

  "And my not having this bloodline is big news to you guys?"

  "It was unexpected," Stacie told her. "Like I said, so far, all the victims seem to have been vampires-in-waiting"

  Madison gave it some heavy thought. "You think someone is trying to kill off these marked people before they become vampires, so more vampires can't be ... well, born?"

  "Originally," Stacie answered with a shrug, "we thought it might be something like that. But so far, it has only been women who have been killed-again, that we know of. And now, with you not fitting the profile, maybe that's not what's happening here."

  Dodie sighed. "Then again, maybe what happened to Madison had nothing to do with those other poor women. Maybe Bobby Piper took her for another reason, totally unrelated."

  "Hmmm, that's what I'm beginning to wonder." Stacie looked at Madison. "Could be, Madison, you got mixed up with us in error.

  "Lucky me." Madison drowned the rest of her sarcasm by taking a big gulp from her mug.

  "And if we're thinking that...," Dodie said, catching Stacie's eye.

  "So is Samuel," Stacie finished. "Shit!"

  Something jolted Madison's internal awareness. "Samuel? Is that who looked at my hand last night?"

  The two vampires exchanged concerned looks, but it was Dodie who answered. "Yes, dear, Samuel was the man you saw in your dream." "

  "How did you know that?" Stacie asked, her eyes boring into Madison's face, looking for unspoken answers.

  I ... I don't know, exactly," Madison answered truthfully. "But as soon as you said his name, I felt something moving around deep inside me, like a mouse looking for a way out."

  Again, the two vampires looked at each other. Their unspoken dialog was making Madison even more nervous. "What?" she asked them, her voice raising a notch in frustration and fear.

  Dodie turned her attention back to Madison. "Samuel La Croix is the chairman of the California Vampire Council. The council governs the vampire community in the state much as a homeowners' association would govern a neighborhood or condo development."

  "So he's the big cheese here in vampire world?" Madison knitted her brows, absorbing the information.

  "The biggest of cheeses," answered Dodie. "Before he came and set up the council, it was like the Wild West. Many vampires were out of control; it was total anarchy. Samuel came in, brought order-often through very violent means-then set up the council to keep things running smoothly. Doug and Stacie both sit on the council board."

  "One of the ways Samuel keeps everything running well," Stacie added, "is by keeping outsiders from learning about us." She gave Madison another intense study. "He's not going to like it that you know so much without a good reason for it."

  Madison's hands started to tremble as her earlier fears rose up and took on renewed life. "So is this where you decide to kill me?"

  "Now, now," said Dodie, trying to comfort Madison. "The council will not vote to kill you without a good reason. Not even Samuel will overrule his own council. He can be terrifying, but he's fair. Just don't give him or the council a reason to doubt your loyalty."

  "Loyalty?" Madison asked, incredulous. "To a group of dead people I didn't even think existed a few days ago?"

  She started to take a drink of coffee to steady herself but stopped and put the mug back down on the table with a decided thud. "Look, I'm not going to tell anyone anything about vampires. No one would believe me if I tried. But that's also not my style." She glared at Dodie, summoning the courage to break through the thickness of her fear. "While I appreciate you saving my life, you and Doug put me into this situation. Now I expect you to do your best to make sure I come out of it in one piece."

  Dodie shook her head. "It's not that simple, Madison."

  TEN

  ake up, Madison." A hand gently shook Madison, rousing her from her slumber.

  It had been a long night. After returning home from their girls' night out, Madison had been agitated and unable to sleep, partially from the coffee but mostly from everything she was learning about the vampires. Dodie again offered some medicinal help, but this time Madison rejected it. For hours she'd turned over all the information that had been thrown at her in the last couple of days until her brain finally gave in and turned off for the night.

  "Come on," the voice told her. "You need to get up." The bedside lamp snapped on as the hand shook her again.

  Shielding her eyes from the light, Madison slowly opened one eye. Standing over her was Dodie. "What's going on?"

  "I need you to get up right now."

  Madison glanced at the clock. It was 4:20; she'd only been asleep for three hours. She turned over. "Just give me another hour."

  "We don't have an hour."

  Dodie threw back the covers, letting the chilly air hit the girl's body. Madison shivered and started moving to get out of bed. Now that she had some of her own clothes, she'd returned to wearing oversized tee shirts to bed.

  "You need to come downstairs right this minute," Dodie insisted.

  "Can't I pee first?"

  Dodie hesitated, weighing the request. "Yes, but hurry. Use the bathroom, then slip into some jeans."

  It was then that Madison heard voices coming from downstairs. Again, she glanced at the bedside clock, letting the time register in her exhausted brain. "Shouldn't you be getting ready to go to bed and not entertaining?"

  "Hurry!" Dodie hissed. "The council is downstairs waiting for you.

  The news hit Madison like a cold shower. She backed away from Dodie and looked around for something to use as
a weapon. "You are going to kill me, aren't you?"

  "This isn't about you, Madison." From the back of the desk chair, Dodie plucked the jeans Madison had worn just a few hours earlier and shook them out. "It's an emergency meeting. Mike Notchey's downstairs, too." She looked up at Madison. "Another girl's been found dead."

  The memory of the horrible photos exploded in Madison's head. "But-," Madison started to say.

  Dodie cut her off. "Madison, please. Samuel does not like to be kept waiting. And he gets more surly as the sun comes up."

  Letting the urgency in Dodie's voice guide her, Madison buttoned her lip and dashed into the bathroom. A minute later, she came out, face washed, teeth and hair hastily brushed, and pulled on the jeans Dodie handed her.

  "What about this?" Madison asked, indicating the tee shirt she'd worn to bed.

  "It's fine," Dodie said, then hesitated. Taking in the seductive way the shirt outlined Madison's bare breasts, she remembered how Samuel had looked at the girl. "On second thought, you'd better put on a bra."

  As Madison pulled off the tee shirt and slipped into a bra, Dodie went to the closet and sifted through the few items she'd brought over from Madison's apartment. Settling on a loose and shapeless sweater in a dull brown, she brought it to Madison. "Here, put this on, and pull your hair back into a ponytail. And don't cover your bruises."

  Even though her head was full of questions, Madison quickly did as she was told, ending with slipping her feet into a pair of basic sneakers.

  "Come on now," Dodie called over her shoulder as she headed for the door.

  As she followed Dodie down the staircase, Madison could hear the voices better. They were coming from the great room, the spacious living area that served as a living room and dining room located to the right of the stairs. Several people were talking at once. As she got closer, Madison realized an argument was in progress. She recognized Stacie Neroni's voice immediately, as well as Mike Notchey's, but she couldn't tell if they were arguing with each other or in favor of the same issue.