Whatever that took.
Chapter Seventeen
The bar was on the wrong side of Burnside, closer to the Mission District than Portland's downtown. But Ben was gaining an instinct for these kinds of places. He drove right to it, although he didn't remember Steve's exact instructions from the first time.
Most of the cars parked along the street were twenty years old, dented and the size of small boats. The men who appeared under the glare of the streetlights wore too many clothes for the warm spring night. Their hair was matted and their eyes empty from too many drugs, too much booze, or an encounter with the wrong kind of people. The Targa, with its shiny black paint job, was out of place here.
Candyce sat quietly in the passenger seat. She had said nothing in the two-hour trip north from Eugene. Occasionally, her left hand would caress his leg and move up his thigh. He would clasp his own hand over hers before she could move it higher.
Her touch disgusted him.
The bar was in the middle of the block between Rick's House of Sleaze and the Ruby Chasm. Ben didn't give them a second glance, any more than the men who clustered outside gave him.
Candyce didn't move, waiting for him to tell her what to do.
If he left her there, she would become prey to any lowlife who passed. If he took her inside, the baby might not survive. The Targa didn't have a real back seat, so he couldn't tell her to lie down and stay out of sight.
Damn. He hadn't realized traveling with her would be this annoying.
"Come on," he said as he got out.
She opened her door and got out of the car. She didn't even move like Candyce any more. Gone were the quick, confident movements, the comfortable ease that made her seem so intelligent. Instead she hunched, just a bit, and watched his every move.
"Stay beside me." He took her arm to protect her from the men. They watched her walk. One man licked his lips. Another reached for her breasts. Ben gave him a look that made him change his mind.
Candyce didn't seem to notice.
The name of the bar had once been the Keg, but someone had removed the letters and not replaced them, leaving a ghostly imprint above the door. A dirty bulb burned beneath a boarded up window, providing a thin light. Ben led Candyce down the five stairs, and yanked the wood door open.
The noise hit first—Springsteen at top volume and a hundred voices trying to shout above it. Then the smell—smoke, beer, fresh meat and blood. Candyce moaned. Ben slipped his hand from her arm to her buttocks and squeezed. He liked this place.
Amazing how his tastes had changed in the last few weeks.
The light bulbs had been painted red, so everything had a red tinge. Faces looked like they had been smeared with blood. Candyce clung to him and he shook her off. There would be more entertainment here than he had found since he arrived in Seattle.
A statuesque woman wearing black leather—her breasts and buttocks sticking out, nipples covered with steel points—passed, a whip in her right hand, a chain in her left. A handcuffed man wearing a pinstriped suit followed her. They disappeared into a side room.
Regular patrons sat up front. They smelled slight sour, as if they had been overused. Some drank. Others held their glasses and watched the back of the room with furtive glances. Ben followed their gaze into the pit.
Three male vampires sat against the back wall, all of them showing the effects of years of indulgence—the too-thin bodies, the too-red lips. One of them humped a woman while sucking on the wrist of another. The other two males were engaged in conversation with the people around them as if nothing were happening. Another male vampire appeared from yet a different side room. His male cow, swaying beside him, was drained to the point of coma.
"In the back," the bartender yelled at Ben in the break between songs. "I don't want you near the customers."
Ben frowned and wondered how the bartender knew. But even new vampires had a certain air to them—a confidence and sensuality that most humans didn't have. Most people didn't notice, but folks who had been around vampires a long time got an idea. He glanced at the patrons up front. Customers, eh? Good plan by the bartender. Make them pay for the use of the bar, and the vampires. Good drugs, of all kinds.
He walked to the bar, dragging Candyce beside him. "She's stoned, but I need to take her with me. Any where I can leave her?"
The bartender glanced at her. He was an overweight pimply man whose alert gaze and ruddy skin marked him as a leech—a human who made money off a vampire. He clearly wasn't drugged—he looked too healthy to be someone's cow—and he didn't have that air of authority that most vampires had. He probably acted as human cover for the vampire who owned the place. "Have her take that stool by the waitress station. But be sure to collect her when you go."
"I will." Ben pulled a fifty from his money clip. "Make sure nothing happens to her."
"What do I look like, the police?" the bartender asked, but he pocketed the bill.
Ben propelled Candyce to the empty bar stool and sat her there. The bartender put a glass of water in front of her. "Wait here," Ben said.
Candyce nodded. She reached for him, but he moved out of her grasp. Others, having seen her reaction, grabbed for him as he passed, knowing that he could give them the kind of release they wanted.
The back room of the bar smelled of blood instead of beer, incense instead of smoke. A female vampire, in the dark left corner, was sucking the penis of a male cow. Judging from the pasty color of his skin, he would be dead before the night was over, but he would die in ecstasy.
He glanced back until he saw a bouncer, a big man dressed in all black. Bouncers had a different function in these bars. They got rid of the unwanted bodies, usually by dumping them in the Pacific. There were several places along the coasts of Oregon and Washington where a body dropped into the ocean would not be recovered or ever seen again.
Doors led to private rooms. Most of the vampires took their cows inside, preferring not to perform in public. The male vampire with the two cows had brought a third over. The women were servicing each other, using him as a toy, while he sampled from each neck.
In spite of himself, Ben found the scene erotic. He was tempted to find a cow of his own, take her to the back room, and drain her completely. He was hard. He would wait fifteen minutes and then take a cow of his own.
He scanned the faces of the vampires in the room, but recognized none of them. He slipped into a chair, deciding to wait. Steve would be here. People said he never left.
Ben couldn't be in a place like this all the time. Not even when he first succumbed to the blood lust. And now, now Mikos had been flaming another lust, the lust that had made Ben pursue pre-law in the first place.
Power.
It wasn't enough to have the sexual mastery. He knew himself well enough to know that he would tire of it. No. He wanted to live longer than Mikos had, to be wealthier than Mikos and to control the world around him.
Ben was young and fresh and unknown. He had the ability to do that.
The bass line of the music thudded along his spine. He found a chair that faced the other vampires, his back to the cows. He didn't want to see them. Smelling them was hard enough. He made himself watch. Mikos had told him about these places, where less successful vampires spent their time. Mikos had called them dangerous, claiming that eventually some unconnected, zealous human would find it, and kill all associated with it.
Ben was amazed no one had found this one yet.
The smell and the sexual energy were[C&F92] making the wait unbearable. He needed to see Steve, to talk with him about that fuck-up, the one Mikos had punished Ben for, but Ben needed the release too. Screw the back room. He would have his pleasure and wait for Steve. After a moment, he stood, adjusted his pants leg to relieve the pressure and walked back to the customer tables. He grabbed a slender black-haired woman in a miniskirt. She didn't have a visible mark on her bare skin. He gripped her wrist and dragged her into the pit.
She was breathing heavily, a
nd she licked her lips like one anticipating a snack. He sat back in his chair, keeping his gaze on the doors to the private rooms. He unzipped his pants and pulled his penis free. Then he hiked up her skirt, please to note that she wasn't wearing any underwear. He grabbed her hips and forced her down. She was already wet.
God, she felt good. The orgasm wasn't far away. She pushed up her leather top, and then he saw the marks—bruises lining both breasts. He no longer cared. He bit into one of the blue veins visible near her nipple and sucked.
Her orgasms were strong. She had been a cow for a long time. He could hear her cries over the music. Her blood was warm, and a bit sour—not nearly as fresh as Candyce's.
Then he exploded into her, burying his face against her breast. He kept sucking, feeling himself grow hard again, before he remembered Steve.
He pulled his teeth out of the holes he had made next to her nipple and licked the blood off the wound. She put her hands under her breasts and extended them to him. "Oh, God," she murmured. "You're young. More. Give me more."
He swallowed. He was losing track of his purpose.
Control, Van had said.
He grabbed the woman by the waist and yanked her off him. His body still throbbed. If he had known that vampires had this kind of sexual staying power, he would have sought this out.
But he had to concentrate, and the cow wasn't going to let him.
"That's it, darling," he said.
She started to go down on him, but he caught her chin, and dug his fingers into the sensitive flesh. She cried out, but not with pleasure.
"I said that's it." He tossed her away like a used condom. She tumbled onto the bloodstained floor, skirt still hiked up over her perfect ass. She pushed herself up on her elbows, staring at the other vampires, seeing if one would take her.
Ben was soft. He tucked himself in and zipped up. So far the cow hadn't found any takers. Ben looked away, just as a back room door opened. Steve came out. He looked pudgier than he had before, his long brown hair curling behind his ears. He wore faded jeans and a leather bomber jacket. The two women with him were habitual; their drained faces were filled with an obvious ecstasy only an overexposure over a long period of time could give.
He patted them affectionately on their asses and pushed them away.
Ben was out of his chair and across the room before Steve had a chance to move. As Steve looked up, Ben caught him around the throat and pushed him back against the wall. The loud thunk echoed over the music. The conversation stopped. Heads turned among the vampires to see what was going on. Most of the waiting cows didn't bother to look.
"You had no right," Ben said, his face inches from Steve's, "to tell anyone where I was."
Steve's teeth were stained brown and his skin was bloated. He overfed. No wonder he had never gone beyond places like this. He put his hands around Ben's wrists and tugged, unable to free himself. "It was just Candyce, man," he said, his voice hoarse from the pressure. Ben could feel Steve's Adam's apple moving beneath his palm. "I thought you would want to see her."
"The next time you think something," Ben said, "you call me. I'll tell you what to do."
He let go of Steve's neck. Steve rubbed his throat. "Who the hell do you think you are?" Steve asked. "Two months ago, you didn't even know what you were."
"A lot changes." Ben tugged his silk suit coat. Then he adjusted Steve's collar. "At least for some of us."
Steve slapped his hand away. "I could work with Mikos any time I want."
"Oh, really?" Ben asked. "Then why don't you?"
"His place is dull. Those weird parties night after night."
"Mikos said he made you leave," Ben said. The blood lust was still flowing through him. He was shaking. "He damn near made me leave after Candyce called me. 'Damaged the integrity of the Nest,' he said. But I swore on my blood that I didn't tell her anything. Now she tells me she found out from you. I'm going to make sure you never fuck me over again."
The conversation around them had resumed. They had lost their focus as the center of attention when their moment of anger had not erupted into a fight.
"I was right to send you to Mikos." Steve smiled. He touched the corner of Ben's mouth with one dirty finger. It came away covered with blood. Steve licked it off. "Never thought you'd be able to function in a place like this."
"You were wrong," Ben said. He felt as if he had aged years since he last saw Steve. Steve had been the wise one then. Ben was now. "And you were wrong to tell Candyce how to find me. If she told anyone else—"
"She didn't." Steve smiled. "I told her not to."
Ben froze. "You told her. How exactly did you tell her?"
Steve seemed to be standing up straighter. "Don't worry, man. I already knew about the baby. I wasn't going to mess what was rightfully yours."
"How did you tell her?" Ben moved closer.
"You know, hurting each other is against the rules," Steve said. He leaned against the wall, as if it would give and protect him from Ben.
"Really?" Ben asked. "There are rules?"
Steve nodded. "Lots of rules. Don't they teach you anything up there?"
Ben took another step forward. His body leaned against Steve's. "They didn't teach me some silly ass rule like that. It wouldn't serve any purpose, now would it?"
"It keeps our clan going," Steve said.
Ben shook his head. "We have to cleanse the clan of those who aren't worthy of it."
"I didn't do anything wrong." Steve pushed on Ben's shoulders. Ben took a step back.
"You told Candyce where to find me," Ben said. "Now look at her."
He gestured toward the bar. Steve followed Ben's movement. Candyce was facing the bartender, swaying and singing to herself. She had the same distracted air the other cows had.
"Jesus," Steve said.
Ben saw the disgust travel across Steve's face. The three of them had grown up together—had considered each other good friends. This change in Candyce would affect Steve as much as it affected Ben.
"See?" Ben said. "If you had called me instead of trying to control things yourself, I would have told you to keep an eye on her, and let me know when the baby was born. Then I would have taken the child from her. But as it is, she has to spend the rest of her term like that, with me."
"Jesus," Steve said again. "You learn fast, don't you?"
Ben looked around the bar. Another vampire had moved into the back corner, helping the female drain the man. A small shudder ran through Ben. "It's the only way to survive," he said.
Steve got a half smile on his face. "You haven't survived yet, man. It's only been two months."
A cow walked behind Ben and trailed a hand along his buttocks. Instantly his erection was back. Control. Only for a few more minutes and then he could ease himself again. Since he was here, he might as well take advantage of it.
But first he had to finish the conversation. He would do as Mikos asked. He would spread the word, although he doubted that there would be many who would want to go beyond living for the moment.
He said, "If you got any friends who are looking for something to keep their minds busy as well as their mouths, call me. I might be able to use them."
Steve grabbed the cow that was feeling up Ben and yanked her beside him. She rubbed against him like a cat. "What kind of busy?" Steve asked.
"I need people who can think, Steve," Ben said. "It's time we move beyond cheap little places like this one."
Steve brushed the cow's hair away from her neck. "I don't want to move beyond this, Ben. That's Mikos' problem. He wants to rule the world. But he doesn't realize that we already do."
He buried his teeth into the tender skin that joined her neck to her shoulder. Ben couldn't take it any more. His mouth was full of saliva. If he didn't have something right now, he would burst.
He glanced at Candyce. Even drugged and disgusting, she was beautiful. He had loved her. He really had. If she didn't have that precious little being in her belly, he would tak
e her here. Now. But he couldn't. He had that much restraint.
He went over to the cow section and picked two young women, then took them into the private room Steve had vacated. Ben would use them until he couldn't any more. He had to leave Candyce alone. That's all these places were good for, to funnel off excess hunger. Ben was going to use that hunger and gain a different kind of power, a kind that humans could only wonder at.
They would never know what hit them.
Chapter Eighteen
Cammie sprawled on her bed in the hotel room, papers scattered in front of her. Her high heels were off, one lying near the door, the other near the dresser. She lay on her stomach, her nylon-stockinged feet crossed at the ankles and swaying in the air.
She felt more comfortable in the hotel than she had the night before. The smell had disappeared, at least from the elevators. She had avoided the eighth floor. Her floor smelled clean—of conditioned air, lemon-scented polish, and that slightly damp odor she was beginning to associate with the Northwest.
The Northwest surprised her. It was fifteen degrees warmer than Madison had been when she left. The sunshine was crisp and clear, providing a view of the Cascade Range to the east, and the Coastal Range to the west. The large butte near the hotel beckoned her invitingly. Maybe, before dinner, she would see if she could drive to the top.
She had expected rain, but the woman at the desk told her that most of the rains came in the winter. Even then, the woman had said, the sun shone every day. What a change from the Midwest, where grayness could last for weeks at a time.
Despite the comfort she felt, she had kept the garlic on her door. The maid had not touched the garlic on the curtains when she cleaned. That had reassured Cammie as well. A vampire's attraction to garlic would have made the vampire remove the garlic, even a vampire young enough to be seen in the daytime.
She rubbed her eyes and poked at the papers in front of her. The letters that Ben's adopted mother had given her were in seventeen piles, one for each family. The most typical—and the most interesting because it contained the first letter that went to the Westrina Center—came from the Ellis family.
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