by Casey Lane
“Didn’t you think to bring a stroller for him?” Fang whispered. Shivers raced up my spine when his breath tickled my ear. I could feel myself weaken. Fuck it. I wasn’t made of stone.
I spun around, grabbing Ben. He basically stumbled into me because he’d been gawking. Mr. Figgles yelped in protest at the jostling, but I silenced him with a hiss.
“I need to feed, Ben. I can do it with or without ruining your fancy coat.”
“Here.” Ben handed Mr. Figgles to Fang without the slightest alarm at my request. Paranormals streamed around us toward the entrance. “Why didn’t you do this before we left the motel? You know how hard it is to get blood stains out.” He divested himself of his duster before working on his shirt buttons. Goosebumps rippled across his tanned skin in the cold. I wished he’d stay away from tanning beds, but like all the young, he assumed he’d live forever. “I’m ready.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fang start to move.
I pulled Ben into my embrace. He went limp in my arms like a heroine in some black-and-white movie. “Never forget this is what I am.”
Fang was unperturbed by my snarl. Instead he ushered us to the side of the entrance. “I’ve not forgotten anything, Silverthorne. Any one thing. But the sign says ‘No Outside Feedings,’ so let’s at least move out of the horde.”
As soon as we were off to one side, I pulled my arm loose from Fang. He stood, Mr. Figgles huddled against his ankles, his broad form blocking us from the view of the distracted patrons hurrying inside. “You’re starving. Eat.”
My fangs broke the skin in Ben’s neck easily. The spurt of his fresh blood made me salivate. I fixed my lips over the gash, letting his blood coat my tongue. I can’t remember any equivalent for what it’s like to feed from when I was a human. It’s like a million times more powerful than a craving. Ben’s blood tasted sweet and salty. I closed my eyes, feeling my body calm down as the nourishment entered me.
I wouldn’t say I have a clinical diagnosis when it comes to feeding, but I’m aware it’s not healthy for a vampire to fast as much as I do for as long as I do. Maybe sometime I’ll study psychiatry and find out what is really going on. But for now, I’d rather not think about it.
I stopped abruptly just when I was starting to feel the edge come off. Ben could easily become anemic, and I needed him functioning to full capacity here.
I applied pressure to his puncture wound to stop the bleeding and licked my lips, savoring the last of his blood.
He’d fallen into a semiconscious state not unlike what most humans experience after sex. I held him in my arms. We were about equal height, which made feeding from him easy.
After his bleeding stopped, I rested my forehead against his. He appeared to be asleep. He was trusting, and so very young.
“Ben, wake up.”
His eyelids fluttered. He looked a bit dazed. “That was fast.” He wobbled and I steadied him on his feet. “I guess that was like the equivalent of a drive thru, huh?”
I was shaking. That taste of blood was heaven and hell. It nourished my body, but it reminded me how hungry my spirit was. I turned away from Ben. Fang was right there. Mr. Figgles moved to sit on his boots. The dog’s tail swished when our eyes met.
“Let me see, Hattie,” Fang said so quietly I wasn’t sure he’d spoken.
A fight broke out between two valets, and several more joined the ruckus. And we’d not even gotten inside yet.
I raised my eyes to meet Fang’s calm gray ones. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, feeling guilty about what had just happened but knowing there was nothing I could do about it if I wanted to survive. I drank blood.
In Fang’s eyes I saw no condemnation. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a white cotton handkerchief. I hadn’t seen one of those in years. These days everything is disposable.
I reached up to take the cloth from him.
“Here, let me.” He dabbed it to his tongue to wet it, then gently wiped at the edge of my mouth. His eyes were on my lips.
I pulled away. “Thank you.” Turning to Ben, I asked, “You ready to go?” He was briskly buttoning his shirt.
Fang handed him his coat. “Don’t forget your dog.” He pointed to Mr. Figgles, who seemed quite happy sitting at Fang’s feet. “I encourage you to keep a good hold of the dog when we get inside.”
Ben picked up Mr. Figgles, who tolerated them rubbing noses.
“Let’s go.”
There was no way Fang was leaving his weapon at the door. The door-check demons had their orders, though, and stood fast. And to be honest, they were a more professional lot than the valet crew.
Still, I insisted they call Leon, and he arrived quickly. He was dressed in a black tuxedo with tails and top hat. He even brandished an elegant walking stick. A small pack of shifter hangers-on followed in his wake.
“So good to see you, Dr. Silverthorne.” He took one of my hands in his, then brought it to his lips for a kiss. “Love the costume! Très sexy.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Sheriff.” He and Fang nodded mutual greetings. I could feel Ben quiver with excitement. He was sandwiched between me and Fang, like a curious child leaning over the front seat in the car. I’d never stopped to consider Leon’s sexual preference, but I was certain that Ben hoped it was in his favor.
“Fang, I didn’t know you had a younger brother!” Leon exclaimed.
Ben thrust his hand between us, but neither I nor Fang budged to let him through. “I’m Ben Wakefield. Dr. Silverthorne’s personal assistant.”
“We’re not related,” Fang said through stiff lips. “Now let us through so we can do our job.” The demon security team was ready for a rumble with Fang. Leon had his hands plenty full tonight.
“No blood ties? Incredible. You two share such a strong resemblance. He could be your son.” Leon glanced at me quizzically.
“We really should be getting a look around,” I said, offering no comment on Ben, Fang, or Figgles.
He swept his arms wide. “Be my guest.”
Security grudgingly waved the four of us through. Inside, the club looked exactly like the Las Vegas casinos I’d seen while attending a conference there.
A deep red carpet covered the entire vast floor. The color was an excellent choice, given the patrons. Unlike Leon’s mansion, there wasn’t a window in sight here. Chandeliers glittered from the ceiling.
The vast, open casino floor was divided into areas according to blackjack, one-armed bandits, poker, dice, and roulette. There was a massive bar at one end. Even though the place had just opened, a thick layer of cigarette smoke hung like a fog over the place.
And it was packed with every form of paranormal life—mostly shifters, I could tell by the smell, but also witches, vamps, demons, trolls, and dwarves. Plus an assortment of creatures I could only describe as Muppet-collection rejects under “Other.”
I stopped to read a massive banner in the center of the room.
Twin Moons Casino Rules:
Proceed at your own risk.
Bite at your own risk.
No weapons. Ever.
No outside food or drink.
The management reserves the right to remove you and/or your bodies at any time.
The management accepts no responsibility for anything.
* * *
That pretty much covered everything for a paranormal casino.
I was feeling alert and sparkly, almost upbeat, after Ben’s blood. I mostly drank donated blood these days. I’d tried not to remember how delicious the fresh stuff was. I guess it’d be like the difference between powdered orange juice and fresh squeezed.
Fang and I split up, and he and I began asking patrons if they’d seen or heard from Tina. Ben and Mr. Figgles stayed close behind me, but I was less worried about it than I’d been at the hotel. Even if the visible blood had been washed off him, my scent still clung to him. The way he trotted after me docilely, no one missed what his relation was to me.
; “Didn’t you read the rules, little girl? No outside food or drink.” Another vampire, wearing a sky-blue leisure suit and a pompadour wig, eyed me over the top of his sunglasses from the poker table.
He was a young vampire. Less than fifty years old. I could tell because he engaged me. The young ones still crave some sense of community or belonging. They haven’t adjusted to the fact they are alone for eternity.
I ignored him. He wasn’t worth my time.
After Fang and I made one circuit, we met to compare notes—which were nil. No one had seen or heard from Tina since the night she’d argued with Fang. They were, however, eager for any details. Paranormals are the biggest gossips.
The entertainment was about to begin. Beyond the gaming section was a tall dining room with a theater stage. It looked like Leon was moving into the entertainment business wholeheartedly. His voice boomed over the speakers. I wasn’t sure what we would accomplish here unless we got lucky and picked up Tina’s scent. So far it was a whole lot of nothing.
I wished Tina would just show up unharmed with some silly explanation that would free Fang from suspicions. Apparently she’d been planning to work here. I should go through Fang’s house to see if any clue was missed. Apparently Leon’s cleaners had it all scrubbed up before I had the chance to see its original state.
The overhead lights dimmed. A spotlight shone on the vast black velvet theater curtain. The crowd leaned forward in anticipation.
When the body dropped from the ceiling, I assumed it was part of an act. So did everyone else, judging from the applause.
But the body just hung there, and then its decayed scent drifted down to the crowd.
“Oh, hell.” Fang’s face grew pale under his tan. His fingers dug into my forearm.
The body was a blond humanoid female. With all the smells crawling around this place it was impossible to identify her at this distance. I could smell she’d been dead a while, though.
“It’s her dress.” Fang said.
“Whose?” Ben gazed up at the dangling corpse in morbid fascination.
“My wife’s.” Fang grimaced. “I bought it for her.”
The clapping ceased as the body continued to dangle. It had stopped swinging like a pendulum, and now it turned one direction, then the other. Someone killed the spotlight. The crowd booed.
The band started again. Complimentary cocktails were passed around by waitresses dressed suspiciously similar to the way I was.
Tina’s case had gone from missing person to murder or suicide. None of this was good news for Fang.
“We’ve gotta cut her down. Now,” Fang told Leon as he approached us.
Leon snarled. “What the fuck do you think I’m trying to do?” His hangers-on still trailed behind him, but they now they were agitated. One of their own was dead.
“I’ll do it.” Fang turned to leave.
“You can’t get through the back. I had someone check; the door to the catwalk is blocked from the inside.” Leon stared up at body.
“Then how?” Fang asked. “She’s gotta be thirty feet up.”
“I can do it.” I said.
Fang and Leon looked at me like I was crazy.
“Just get me some damned rope and a knife so I can cut her down. And hurry up before there’s a riot.” I scanned the room before returning to study the body dangling over our heads.
“This is crazy,” Ben said.
“Agreed,” Fang replied.
“There’s a dead shifter hanging from the ceiling. I’m small enough to not break the rope and yet strong enough to carry her down. Hopefully, though, I can get the connecting door up there unblocked. And it seems unlikely you’re going to find someone else to do it immediately.”
A death in a pack is a big deal. Something like this could lead to a major freak-out. The last thing I wanted was a bunch of agitated wolves targeting Fang.
“If you fall from that height—” Ben shuddered.
“She’s not going to fall,” Fang said. “She’s an excellent climber.”
That’s how I happened to climb up a thirty-foot rope dressed like jailbait, with pretty much the entire casino staring at my ass.
“My offer still stands if you want to borrow my coat,” Fang murmured as I prepared to climb.
It was a sweet thought and so like Fang, but I had no time for it. “No, thanks. Though I should probably think of a way to charge Leon for this service. Judging by the crowd gathered, he’s going to cash in on the tragedy.” The shifters were still genuinely grieving, but the rest of the paranormals were curious, at least, and enjoying the drama. It wasn’t every day that the casino owner’s missing sister dropped dead out of the ceiling on opening night.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Fang replied.
“Here, take these.” Ben shucked off his leather gloves. “They’ll be a little big but better than nothing.”
Fang produced a coil of rope that I looped over one shoulder. He pulled a hunting knife out of his boot.
I looked up.
Tina still dangled. She swung slightly, looking like a macabre wind chime. It was long way up. I was really going to risk my life, such as it was, for this shifter who was already dead and who, quite frankly, I had no affection for in real life. But it wasn’t for Tina that I was doing this. It was for Fang. He wasn’t the killer. This was way too flashy for him.
“You can do it.” Fang put his hand on my shoulder.
Ben’s eyebrows shot skyward. Generally I wasn’t big on being touched unless I initiated the contact. “Good luck,” he whispered.
“She doesn’t need it. She’s an excellent climber.” Fang said.
“Why do you keep saying that? I’ve known her eight years, and I’ve never seen her go climbing once. I never even heard that was a vamp thing. I mean, what’s the point of climbing at night anyway?”
“You’d be surprised,” Fang murmured.
I removed my boots and handed them to Ben, then grabbed hold of the rope, pulled myself up, and started to climb.
The first part of the climb was easy. About halfway up, my shoulders and arms started aching. With about a quarter more to go, I made the mistake of looking down. I wasn’t bothered by heights in general, but this wasn’t exactly routine for me. Plus, shimmying up a rope is not the same as rock climbing.
Above me, Tina hung so that her long hair obscured her face. She was roped around one ankle. Her other limbs dangled downward. I craned my neck, curious about the color of her skin. It could tell me a lot about how she was died and when. But I couldn’t tell much. The spotlight was still off.
A flutter of excitement flitted through me at the thought of doing the autopsy. I really missed pathology. Brain surgery was rewarding for the living, but pathology provided answers for the dead. The dead didn’t need them, but those left behind sure did. And don’t get my started on the whole justice of it all.
Inside my gloves my palms were sweaty. I climbed further.
Between the dress and the blood, Tina’s corpse was covered in red, as though she’d been dipped in it. I wrinkled my nose. She didn’t smell good either. She’d been dead a while before dropping out of the ceiling, judging from the odor. Who would do that? And why?
Did she have a scorned lover or crossed business partner?
Someone would be held responsible. I didn’t want it to be Fang.
I was almost close enough to reach her. Now I had to get us both down without falling. I didn’t want any evidence crushed in the fall. And unlike cats, vampires didn’t have nine lives.
I needed to crawl over her because I couldn’t do anything from this vantage point. A few raucous catcalls reached me, followed by protests at being removed by security. I made it over her body, trying to touch her as little as possible, but my arms ached. She smelled rank.
I kept climbing. I was almost at the lower edge of the catwalk when my right hand slipped. I had a moment of terror before I realized my left hand was still holding on. My fingers were slipping ever
so slightly. It would be a long way to fall.
Swinging my right hand up to the rope again required the rest of my energy. I should’ve fed more earlier. This is what happens when a vamp runs close to the wire with nourishment. We are less invincible than we think.
I pulled myself up and then lay on the catwalk for a few minutes, catching my breath. There was no sign of anyone up here now.
It was going to be much easier to exit from the barred catwalk than to try to rappel down with Tina. That latter option would be more dramatic, and I suspected Leon in his craven heart was probably disappointed the show was over, even if it was his sister.
The door was locked from the inside, and a fire extinguisher was lodged under the door handle. Easy enough to remove from this side, but from the outside the steel door would’ve had to be cut off its hinges. I removed the tank and popped the door open, very happy to have Ben’s gloves so that I didn’t leave any fingerprints to contaminate the scene.
I leaned over the catwalk, giving a thumbs-up to those below. Then I sat down to wait until help arrived. I was deeply grateful the rope had held my body weight and Tina’s. Her murderer could’ve damaged the rope, and I’d had no way to know that before I began. Plunging to my death on top of Tina was not how I envisioned my life ending. Especially in Nowhere.
In LA, I didn’t need superior physical strength. I could channel my energies to my mind. But up here in Nowhere, among an exclusively paranormal population with a killer on the loose, it wasn’t wise.
I had expected this to be easier. I’d been out of doing field work long enough to forget that it was a lot of work—and mostly led to nothing while you searched for a break in the case. Finding Tina’s body, though, would mean the limbo was over. Things would happen, good or bad.
I closed my eyes.
“Are you all right?” I could feel Fang’s breath on my face as he crouched before me. “Ben, come here, she needs to feed.”
