Extremely dangerous.
The one who turned him must have let his guard down, and paid for his carelessness with his life.
The creature raced at me, sword raised over his head, bloodlust filling his eyes. I stepped to the side again, and sliced him open at the stomach.
“Your technique is poor.”
The sword dropped from his hands as he grabbed at his stomach, trying to prevent the innards from spilling out. I felt sorry for the poor bastard. He was probably a local, the girl would probably have recognized him if her parents weren’t all over his face. I spun, the sword extended, making a long arc, whipping through the air. This time there was nothing to protect him, and the distinct feeling that vibrates through the blade when skin, bone and sinew are sliced, was horrifyingly familiar.
His body stood there for a moment, the reality of the situation not registering at first on his face, but then the muscles went slack, the bloodlust dimmed, and the body crumpled to the ground, the head rolling to the side.
I grabbed the body, and the head, and brought them to the barn, and out of sight. I immediately dropped, plunging my bared teeth into the flesh of what was left of his neck, and fed. I could feel the power surge through me, the gnawing hunger I had been experiencing disappearing, replaced with a radiance that consumed me. I drank of his essence, sucking on his neck as hard as I could, a vampire’s blood always harder to draw, but far more precious than any human’s. As I consumed what was left of him, contentment surged through me as I knew I would now be sustained for months, and there would be no risk to the humans, or their animals, around me.
Nothing more came and I pulled my teeth from his neck, tossing the corpse I had been cradling in my arms to the ground.
I heard a gasp.
I spun to see the source, but I already knew. It was her. The girl with no name, the look of horror on her face revealing she had seen enough to know I had just fed on her neighbor. I pulled a handkerchief from my pocket and wiped the blood from my mouth and chin, then stood.
She turned and ran.
“Wait!”
I took after her, emerging from the barn and the glare of sunlight. I shielded my sensitive eyes from the rays, and saw her cross the porch and enter the house, slamming the door behind her. I walked over, my legs already protesting the lack of rest during the knitting process. I opened the screen door, then tried the inner door.
Locked.
I shoved, and the bolt pushed through the wood of the door frame, and I stepped inside. “Hello?”
There was no answer. But of course there wasn’t. What was I expecting? A warm welcome?
“Listen to me, I’m not here to hurt you. If I was, I would have done it long ago.” I paused. Still nothing. “There’s an explanation for everything you’ve seen here today. Come out and I’ll tell you everything.”
I heard the distinct cocking of a gun.
“Like hell I will.”
I spun on my heel, just in time to see the shotgun leveled at me, and this young girl, her tear stained cheeks belying the look of determination on her face, squeezing the trigger.
“Die freak!”
The report of the gun was deafening in the tiny kitchen, but that was nothing to the shock of the bullets impacting my stomach, sending me flying across said small kitchen, and into the cupboards lining the wall behind me.
Pain!
Yes, getting hit by a car hurt, but nothing compared to being shot. I can just imagine how bad it must be for regular humans. But then again, double barrels into the stomach would most likely kill a normal person instantly. Me on the other hand, I got to enjoy the pain as my body slowly healed itself.
I had been shot quite a number of times in my life, especially during wars. I usually volunteered for any suicide mission, because I knew I would most likely survive, there was always a chance of feeding on the enemy, they gave me pretty medals if I made it out alive, and it saved my buddies who weren’t nearly as immortal as I was. But quite often, there was plenty of pain, and I would usually curl up in a foxhole somewhere, healing, then return a few hours later to my heroic welcome.
But today, I had no hole to curl up in, and I had a teenage girl reloading her damned shotgun.
“Why won’t you die?” she screamed as she slammed the breach shut, placing the barrel within inches of my head.
Okay, now that just might kill me. My hand swung out, lightning fast, grabbing the barrel and pushing it away from my head. I yanked it toward me, causing her to squeeze the trigger, putting a one foot hole in the cupboard door beside me. I grabbed her arm with my free hand, and yanked her to the floor. I tossed the weapon aside, and sat there, my back to the cupboard with a hole in my stomach, gripping this little girl by the arm, who also sat, her back against the same cupboards.
“Are you ready to hear my explanation?”
She said nothing.
I looked at her. “Well?”
“Fine.” She didn’t sound happy about it.
“Good. Now I’m going to let you go, but don’t run. Even though I’ve been shot, I can still easily catch you. Look.” I pointed at my stomach.
She slowly turned her head, as if fighting an inexorable force pulling her chin toward me. Curiosity. It kills more than cats.
But not today.
Once she caught a glimpse of my stomach, she gasped. Already my skin and organs were regenerating, fast enough to be seen by the naked eye, and she stared, fascinated, the look of horror I expected nowhere to be found. She looked up at me.
“What are you?”
I tried to put my most pleasant face on.
“I’m a vampire.”
Surprisingly, she didn’t seem shocked by that. It occurred to me that maybe she didn’t know what a vampire was.
“Like in Dracula?”
My eyebrows shot up. “You read the book?”
She nodded. “It’s one of my favorites.”
“Then, yes, I’m a vampire, like in Dracula, but not like in Dracula. That was a work of fiction, I’m the real thing.” I raised a finger. “But don’t worry, you have nothing to fear. I have control of my hunger.”
“But I saw you, eat, suck, I don’t know, whatever you call it, that man.”
“Yes, but he was a vampire as well.”
“He didn’t seem under control.”
“No, he wasn’t. He was recently turned, and they have almost no control.”
“I think he was Mr. Crowley from three farms down.”
“Sorry to hear that.” I looked at her. “What’s your name, by the way?”
She smiled and extended her hand.
“Rose.”
FIVE
New York
Present Day
“You okay?”
I jolted awake, and looked up. Sydney was leaning in the doorway, her eyes narrowed with concern. I looked around, then sat up. “Yeah, I’m fine, why?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “You were jerking around a bit. Bad dream?”
I shook my head and smiled. “No, good dream actually. About when I met your great-grandmother Rose.”
She smiled and sat down beside me. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like for her. It was such a simpler time back then. Now we’re all so jaded. When Mom told me your secret, I just remember thinking, ‘that explains a lot’. I don’t know if I even felt any fear.”
“Well, by then you had known me almost eighteen years, since you were born.”
“It’s too bad Dad can’t know.”
“You know what happened to your great grandfather when he found out.”
She frowned. “Yeah, I’ve heard the story.” She looked at me. “It would be even worse now, I think.”
“Why?”
“Well, now vampires are all supposed to be hot and sexy, so he’d probably think Mom and you had a thing.”
“Sydney!”
“What? It’s true! Haven’t you been paying attention to all the books and movies lately?”
“Don’t believe everything you see in the movies.” I held my arm into a shaft of sunlight that had made it through the blinds. “See, no sparkle.”
“Or fire.”
I shook my head. “We’re just really sensitive to light, especially sudden changes, so we avoid it when we can.” I shrugged my shoulders. “Probably how the belief got started.”
“Makes sense.” She nodded and stood up. “You ready to work?”
“Yup. You got something?”
“I found out something about that symbol.”
My heart pounded in my chest, not rapidly, the distinctly non-viscous liquid it now pumped not allowing it to hammer like a normal person’s, but it and I were clearly excited by this news. Apparently my face showed it.
“Come to my desk, I’ll show you.”
I jumped up and followed her out of my office and to her desk, watching her lithe form drop into her chair. She was beautiful, just like her mother. Just like all the women I had known in her family. Why Rose had chosen to work with me had never been clear to me. I think she enjoyed the adventure of it, the fear factor, and I know she had been in love with me. Her hidden glances, her gentle touches, her smiles and blushes. And the pheromones she let off whenever I walked into a room.
But I hadn’t acted on it, and neither had she. She had married. I could tell she still carried the torch, but out of respect for her husband, whom I know she truly loved, neither of us ever said anything. It had been difficult, as I had to avoid him for much of his life, an un-aging boss a little too Dorian Grayish for most people to understand. But she had stuck by my side, and on her death bed, a death bed occupied far too soon for my liking, told her own daughter my secret.
It had been a shock to both of us. I remember attending the funeral, mourning her passing, when her daughter, Emily, had come up beside me and taken my hand.
“I’ll take care of you now,” she had said.
And the rest was history, four generations of women from the same family working for me, working with me, as I sought my revenge. And all had loved me.
Including Sydney.
She pointed at the screen. “Here it is.”
I leaned over, one hand on the desk, the other on the back of her chair.
I could smell her pheromones.
“What is it?”
“Seems to be some members only club. Chapters all over the world by the looks of it.”
“What do you have to be to become a member?”
“It doesn’t say. It’s a barebones website. Just the symbol, and a bunch of addresses.”
“Any here?”
She nodded, tearing off a piece of paper and handing it to me. “Already wrote it down for you.”
I smiled and kissed her on the top of her head. “You’re a doll,” I said as I rounded the desk and grabbed my duster off the coat rack.
“Hey, that’s sexist.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Hey, weren’t you the one who said I was hot and sexy a minute ago?”
Her jaw dropped and cheeks blushed. “I wasn’t talking about you!”
I opened the door and stepped out, then poked my head back in. “Sure you weren’t,” I said with a grin, then closed the door.
“Ewww! You’re like three hundred years old!” I heard her yell as I strode down the hall toward the stairs.
I smiled. They had all loved me.
And I loved them all too.
SIX
I wasn’t sure what I was expecting, but I don’t think it was this. It was an old warehouse sitting amidst a bunch of other old warehouses. Nothing looked abandoned, everything seemed to actually be in use, just not by the Walmarts of the world. I guess it made sense. You put your secret club in a warehouse district so there’s less prying eyes, God knows how long it’s been here, so an older district was logical. I looked at the door that stood in front of me, the same logo from the matchbook painted long ago on the door, it barely visible through decades of wear and tear.
I knocked.
A Judas hole in the door slid open and a pair of eyes peered out.
And a nose.
It sniffed.
So did I.
I guess he determined the same thing I had. We were both vampires. The hole slid shut, then the door opened. I stepped inside and the door shut behind me.
“You’ve never been here before.”
It was a statement. A bold statement. He had no idea how old I was, and would he have me believe he was the only one to ever man the door?
I shook my head. “No.” My eyes narrowed. “But how did you know that?”
“I founded this chapter over two hundred years ago, and make it my business to meet everyone who enters.”
“Long time for a single career.”
He chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s a living.” His smile disappeared. “Do you know the rules?”
I shook my head.
He raised his hand, and started counting off fingers. “One, this is a safe haven. Any problems from outside, you leave outside. Two, this is a safe haven. Any problems you have with another member, stays outside. Three, this is a safe haven. You don’t feed upon the guests, you don’t leave with the guests. You can party with the humans, but they leave alive, and alone. Four, this is a safe haven. You cause any problems here, I decide whether or not you’re banned, or fed upon.” He leaned toward me. “And I usually go with a good feeding.”
I smiled. “Anybody ever make trouble?”
“Never more than once.” His face was deadpan. Then he broke out in a roar of laughter. Then stopped. He raised a finger, shaking it at me. “No trouble. I can always read people, and I can see it written all over your face. You’re looking for someone, and you intend to kill them.”
“You’re good.”
He leaned in even closer, his scent filling my nostrils. “No trouble.”
“I’m just looking.”
“Uh huh.” He exited my personal space. “Just be careful.”
“I’m always careful.”
He tipped his head in acknowledgement. “Of course you are. Just make sure that extends beyond these walls after you leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“You may just find what you’re looking for, and if you do, it may follow you out, where I can’t protect you.”
“That may be exactly what I want.”
“People here tend to have friends. A loner like you could quickly find himself on the wrong side of a buffet line.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time.”
He frowned, looking at me. “I have no doubt.” He pointed a finger at my boots, and ran it up to my hat. “Now, weapons. All of them. Put them on the counter.”
I nodded, expecting this. No self-respecting club would allow the type of weaponry many of us sported. I removed my sword, placing it on the table. The man whistled.
“She’s a beauty,” he said, gently holding the sword up as he inspected it, two fingers on the hilt, two on the tip. “Where’d you get this?”
“Napoleon gave it to me.”
He nodded, but didn’t ask any more questions as I continued to disarm myself, pulling throwing knives, knotted ropes, stakes, and two handguns from my various hiding places.
“Travelling light?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve never needed more.”
He chuckled and pointed to my left. “Down there, first door on your left. Enjoy.” I was about to take a step when he added, “And no feeding on the humans.”
I nodded, and walked down the hall and opened the door.
The smell was overwhelming.
It wasn’t that it stank, it was just that there was the smell of dozens of vampires currently occupying the club, mingled together with the traces of hundreds more from previous nights. I inhaled deeply, my nose and brain working their magic, trying to distinguish anyone familiar.
And I froze.
Lazarus.
I sniffed again, deep, long.
&nbs
p; It was definitely him, but not fresh. It was days old, only a trace amongst the hundreds I could discern, but it was there.
And he was gone.
But I had never been closer.
I rounded a corner and I came to a stop. The hall opened out into a wide set of steps leading down into the club. It was dark, lit in a pulsing red, a large circular bar occupied the center, every manner of liquor on display, a dozen bartenders serving the customers surrounding it.
And there were hundreds of them. I had only detected several dozen of my kind, so the vast majority of those here were plain old humans. Do they even know where they are, or do they just think it’s a theme bar?
Industrial music pounded from the speakers, a dance floor to the left filled to capacity with scantily clad girls, most Goth, but many others just dressed for a night on the town, gyrating, with a good number of panting boys with them, and several that I knew were seeking new thralls, the looks from the corners of their eyes obvious even to me.
I was being checked out.
Two bouncers at the bottom of the stairs nodded to me as one of them stopped a new couple from mounting the stairs. “Members only.”
“Well, how do we become members?” asked the young man, full of bravado as he tried to impress the young girl he had just scored.
“You don’t want to know.”
The kid was about to say something when I stepped into his path, two steps and my six foot two frame filling his field of vision. He looked up at me, and I down at him. My gaze fixed on his eyes, unblinking, unfeeling. This was a stupid kid, he needed to be taken down a peg, or he’d risk becoming someone’s dinner.
I said nothing. He tried to return my stare for a few moments, but then his confidence broke when I flared my duster, putting my hands on my hips.
I smelt fear.
He turned to the girl. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
He led her away to protests, and I returned my attention to the room.
It seemed to be a series of smaller rooms, two levels of them in fact, surrounding the bar, each open to the main area. Each could hold anywhere from five to twenty people, depending on the room, and all were filled. As my eyes peered into each room, a nod of acknowledgement was received from those who were the center of attention, and clearly my kind.
Turned (Zander Vargar Vampire Detective, Book #1) Page 4
