Last Vampire Standing

by Nancy Haddock

  “Fine. So you question Ike, and she”—he pointed to my quiet, respectful self—“can do her bloodhound thing.”

  “Arf,” I muttered too softly for Jackson to hear.

  Saber did hear and shot me a zip-it look.

  At Jackson’s signal, one group of officers fanned out to cover the back door while others took up positions with rifles aimed at windows. Another five men marched along the sidewalk to the front entrance, with Jackson leading. Saber and I followed.

  Tower was on doorman duty. Skin and eyes the color of dark chocolate, he nearly filled the double doorway in height and breadth but wore a flat expression.

  Jackson flashed his badge under Tower’s nose. “Daytona Beach police. We have a search warrant.”

  “Ike is expecting you.”

  Well, of course he was. It’s not like he could’ve missed the circus in his parking lot. I kept quiet and slinked behind Jackson and Saber into a cavernous room dominated by an empty dance floor. Two massive flat panel TVs hung suspended over an elevated DJ booth, and both were tuned to ESPN.

  ESPN in a vampire club?

  A bar of rich, dark wood sprawled into the shadows on my left, and tiny colored lights winked around the perimeter of the room, maybe twenty feet high. No disco ball here, but the blinking lights gave a strobe effect.

  One that made Ike’s dark looks more foreboding, even from across the dance floor. He uncoiled from his seat at a cocktail table, and I noticed he wore black dress slacks and a silky black shirt.

  Huh? No leather?

  I took a quick peek at the other seven vampires seated at the table in a haphazard semicircle. The Scandinavian-featured Zena wore jeans and a tropical-print button-up blouse that looked great with her pale blonde hair and white skin. An older-looking female wore a modest sundress, and a younger one sported a red and white cheerleader outfit.

  Rah, rah, Fang U?

  Tower and three males I didn’t know wore jeans and shirts; one was built like a linebacker sporting a Florida Gators T-shirt. What was up with the normal clothes? Had they all come fashion forward, or was this costume night?

  And what was that smell in the air? It wasn’t blood. I didn’t catch the slightest whiff of blood in the room, and I was a shark when it came to that odor. This essence was more a light citrus scent. Oranges? Had Ike installed an air freshening system, or did I smell the fruit the bartender used for drinks?

  Captain Jackson finished sizing up the vampires but didn’t seemed fazed by the anger emanating from Ike or by having to cross the expanse of dance floor to reach him. Nope, Jackson strode forth, slapping the warrant against his palm, until he stopped close enough to Ike to crowd him.

  “Daytona Beach police.”

  “I know who you are, Officer.” Ike held his ground.

  “Captain,” Jackson corrected.

  “As you see, I have gathered everyone for questioning.”

  Jackson’s gaze swept over the assortment of vampires. “There’s no one else in the building?”

  Ike waved a hand. “The humans are there, in the booth on the far side of the bar.”

  “Is your light-fingered girlfriend over there?”

  “Allegedly light-fingered.” Ike paused, looked like he was waging an inner war. Or eating dog poop. “Captain.”

  I squinted at the booth, my vamp vision kicking in. Sure enough, four women sat at a barely lit booth, three of them blood bunnies I’d met in March. Last time I’d seen that trio, they’d been dressed like they’d mugged a herd of cows for the leather. Tonight they wore shorts, Capris, and jeans with casual blouses. Maybe this was costume night.

  The last woman in the deepest shadow, was that Donita Ward? All I could see in the dimness was a slim figure with short brown curls scribbling on a clipboard.

  Maybe my vamp vision wasn’t twenty-twenty, but Donita didn’t look like a hardened criminal. Even her energy signature felt soft. Calm. If that was Donita.

  Jackson dispersed cops to question the women. Another group headed upstairs, and a third went down the hall where a sign read Restrooms. Saber sauntered over to stand with Jackson, but I stayed put. I made myself a shadow so I could observe and puzzle over that elusive scent.

  “Now perhaps you will explain, Captain,” Ike said with a sharp edge of impatience. “Why am I being targeted for a search twice in less than twenty-four hours? What is the complaint?”

  Jackson handed Ike the warrant. “We have a male victim with bite marks who also claims he was robbed here.”

  Ike lifted a brow. “The victim is alive?”

  “That surprises you?”

  “What surprises me,” Ike said as he scanned the warrant, “is that a mortal has the nerve to complain about being bitten when the bite had to occur during sex.”

  Cheerleader Vamp gave Ike an odd look. “But Ike—”

  “Silence, Susan.”

  The female twitched her shoulders at the rebuke but still looked puzzled.

  “These bites weren’t clean or neat.” Saber held up the victim’s photo for Ike to see. “If this was a consensual bite, the vamp involved either didn’t put him in a deep thrall or didn’t keep him there.”

  “You recognize him? Know who bit him?” Jackson demanded.

  “I do not recognize him, but then I am upstairs in the office, not in the club. May I?” He indicated the other vamps with a sweep of his hand.

  “Sure, show them.” As the photo was passed around, only Tower and the guy in the Gators T-shirt showed a clear reaction.

  “He was here tonight,” Tower said and nodded at Gator guy. “Coach served him at the bar.”

  Coach nodded. “He stayed about an hour. Had two beers and paid cash.”

  “He say anything?” Saber probed.

  “Naw, man, he was the surly kind. Just watched the crowd for a while and left. Ya ask me, I think he was Covenant.”

  I sucked in a little breath. If the victim was one of the vamp-hating Covenant members, any vampire might have gone after him for that alone. And yet, I didn’t have the sense Ike or his buddies were lying.

  Ike folded the warrant and looked at Jackson. “There you have it, Captain. This man was here but he left whole. None of my people harmed him.”

  Saber ran a hand through his hair. “You didn’t happen to install outside security cameras like I suggested, did you?”

  “I have hardly had time to replace the computer hard drive,” Ike responded, heavy on the sarcasm. “The only cameras we have record activities in this room.”

  “You’d save yourself a heap of hassle if you’d wire the outside, too. Where’s Laurel tonight?”

  Ike’s mouth tightened. “As of our wakening, she is being punished.”

  “For what?” Saber asked sharply.

  “Normally this would be our business and ours alone, but I will tell you. Laurel gave Donita the stolen property to pawn. After my day manager informed me of your search, I forced the truth from Laurel.”

  “Why didn’t Donita tell us Laurel gave her the stuff when we were here earlier?” Saber asked.

  Ike gave a negligent shrug. “Because she knows I can deal with Laurel as you cannot.”

  I gulped, remembering the discipline Normand dished out in the old days.

  Jackson snorted. “What’d you do, Ike? Slap her hand? If Donita didn’t lift those things, then Laurel did.”

  Ike’s mouth stretched into a most unpleasant smile. “Laurel has not adequately explained where she . . . acquired the jewelry, but I am persuading her. I have banned her from the club for now and given her the task of cleaning our residence. Thoroughly, nightly, and in shackles.”

  “Laurel can break shackles, Ike.”

  “Not these, Saber. Laurel is not free to leave and will not be until I allow it.” He paused. “When I am satisfied she is telling the truth about where she came by those items, naturally I will inform you.”

  “We’ll still need your surveillance feeds,” Jackson said instead.

  “I unde
rstand. Take the hard drive, and leave another receipt.” This time Ike sounded resigned. “I suppose you want to examine the lost-and-found box again as well?”

  Jackson nodded, and Ike signaled to Zena. She and one of the cops headed to the bar.

  As they passed near me, Ike made full eye contact, and I fought the instinct to flinch.

  “Francesca, Princess Vampire,” Ike purred. “Welcome to my humble establishment.”

  The blonde in the cheerleader outfit gave me a double take, squealed, and bolted from her chair.

  “Oh my little G-god, you’re the Princess Vampire!” she said, bouncing toward me. “Can I call you Francesca? I’m Suzy with a ‘y.’ Am I supposed to curtsy?”

  I peeked at Saber’s amused smirk and deduced that Suzy wouldn’t perk me to death.

  “Uh, no. No curtsying.”

  Her nod sent her ponytail dancing around her neck. “ ’K. Can I have your autograph? There are napkins and pens at the bar.”

  “I don’t think—” I got out before Ike interrupted.

  “Susan, escort the princess here to meet your nestmates.”

  “But Ikey—”

  “Susan, come.”

  Suzy pouted a little but grabbed my hand and practically galloped me to the table where Ike now sat at his leisure.

  “Saber, may I ask the humans to join us now?”

  Saber raised a brow at Jackson, who hesitated, then called his cops away from the booth.

  While the human women came toward us from one direction, Zena and her cop escort closed in from the other.

  “Thank you, Zena,” Ike said when she placed a file-sized cardboard box on the table. “Princess, you remember Zena and Tower, of course.”

  My manners kicked into high gear, and I offered a smile. “Of course. Nice to see you again.”

  Saber, the smart-ass, made a choking sound beside me. Tower and Zena remained impassive.

  “And may I also present,” Ike went on, “Susan and Coach, Ray, and Miranda and her husband, Charles.”

  Ray looked enough like Antonio Banderas to make my heart thud the fandango. Then he smiled, the sparkle reaching his chocolate brown eyes, and my tongue swam in a pool of drool.

  Oh, my. A vampire whose eyes sparkled with humor instead of glittering with hunger? Talk about babe bait. For the club, of course. Not for me. I had Saber. I wrenched my gaze from Ray to study the older couple who looked like they’d been in their mid-forties before they were turned.

  “Miranda, how long have you and Charles been married?”

  The woman smiled back. “Oh, my goodness, Princess,” she said in a British accent, “it must be close to a hundred years.”

  “One hundred and two,” Charles said in an equally clipped tone and took Miranda’s hand.

  “Miranda and Charles normally act as my household staff,” Ike put in. “I brought them here to get them out of Laurel’s way. And Ray is my longtime friend and attorney.”

  A vampire attorney? That was as bad as a vampire comic, and my eyes watered with the effort not to laugh.

  Ray startled me by chuckling. “Yes, a vampire attorney is somewhat redundant, is it not?”

  I returned his grin. “No comment.”

  “Ah, and here is Donita. Donita, this is Francesca, Princess Vampire of St. Augustine.”

  Seeing Donita Ward in brighter light vaporized the last of my expectations. Medium height and slender, her hazel eyes were clear, her gaze direct, her expression open. She wasn’t a sweet young thing, either. Maybe thirty-four, she was dressed in a beachy version of business casual.

  She stuck out a hand for me to shake. “Francesca, good to meet you.”

  “Uh, you, too.” I motioned to the clipboard in her left hand.

  “You must be very organized.”

  She laughed. “I hope so, since it’s my job. I’m a business consultant focusing on organization and image.”

  “And working solely for me,” Ike said, his hand on her shoulder.

  Donita smiled up at him, not like she was infatuated out of her mind, but something comfortable passed between her and Ike.

  Ike going domestic? Nah, couldn’t be.

  “Captain,” Donita said. “Would you like to go through the lost and found now?”

  In silence, Jackson lifted the cardboard lid and pulled out one thing after the other. A lipstick, two brown plastic hair clips, a Dallas Cowboys cap with a bent bill, and a dingy white sweater. I swear he growled in disappointment.

  “I assume what you seek is not there?” Ike said.

  “No,” Jackson snapped.

  “Not to tell you your job, but has it occurred to you that bite marks are not always the work of a vampire? As Saber and the Princess know, the French Bride’s bite was made using a fanged prosthesis.”

  “We’ll check that out,” Saber said, “but we’ll also be contacting the VPA to compare the casts of your fangs with the entry wound.”

  “By all means. We have nothing to fear.”

  “Do they, Marinelli?” Jackson shot at me. “Do you smell blood on them?”

  I knew he’d be disappointed. Unless the security cameras showed something, the search had been a bust. But I wouldn’t lie, so I shook my head.

  “No one here has bitten anyone tonight, Captain. Not even each other.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Absolutely positive.”

  “All right.” He signed a receipt for the computer tower his officers had brought down from Ike’s office and left.

  “Thanks for your cooperation,” Saber said when the cops were gone.

  “It kills you to say that, does it not?” Ike returned.

  Saber hesitated. “No. I’ve learned to give credit where it’s due. You seem to be making changes, Ike.”

  “As does the princess.” Ike pinned me with those inky eyes and a sudden flare of suspicion. “I hear you have taken a vampire under your wing. Is this so?”

  I gaped. “How did you find out about Jo-Jo?”

  Ike waved a hand. “Laurel told me, though I didn’t know his name until now.”

  “Uh-huh, and how did Laurel know about him?”

  “If Laurel’s been spying on Cesca—” Saber began.

  “It was not on my orders. But I believe Laurel heard the news from that lispy chatterbox, Cici.”

  Had I not been watching the blood bunnies—Claire, Tessa, and Barb—from the corner of my eye, I’d have missed the startled look they exchanged.

  “Ladies,” I asked them, “where is Cici tonight?”

  Claire tossed her long black hair over her shoulder. “We don’t know. She moved to St. Augustine to go to school and work at”—Claire leaned forward to stage whisper—“Wal-Mart.”

  “Well, good for her,” I said, doing an inner happy dance that Cici had dropped out of the bunny club. “But if Cici’s been in St. Augustine, when could Laurel have talked to her?”

  Tessa shrugged. “Cici stopped by on Saturday night to hang awhile. I guess Laurel talked to her then.”

  A quick psychic flash, and I knew that wasn’t true. Not even Tower and Zena bought it, and they didn’t seem to have two thoughts to rub together. So, who was lying? Laurel or Ike? And why?

  “You have strayed from the point, Princess,” Ike said testily, pulling my attention back to him. “You told me in March that you would not set up a competing nest. Have you gone back on your word?”

  “I said I haven’t. I’m not the nesting type.”

  “Why, then, is this vampire in town?”

  “He’s working on a comedy act,” Saber supplied.

  Vamps and blood bunnies exchanged puzzled glances, but Donita leaned forward.

  “Is he any good?”

  I opened my mouth to tell the truth but reconsidered. “He’s getting there. In fact, you might want to book him for a gig here at Hot Blooded.”

  “But this is not a comedy club,” Ike objected, making comedy sound both foreign and dirty.

  “We’ll bill it as
a special performance,” Donita said. “Trust me, the curiosity factor alone will pack the house.”

  Ike still looked appalled, but Donita whipped out a business card, sparing a glance at her simple, utilitarian watch as she did. “Francesca, talk to your guy and call me when he has an opening.”

  “Donita,” Ike said with an edge of warning.

  It didn’t faze her. She patted his arm.

  “Ike, it’s cool. Now, we have about two hours before dawn to get this place closed down.”

  Saber and I took the hint and left at four forty-five, me wedging Donita’s card into my jeans pocket.

  A breeze hit us outside, brisker than it had been an hour ago. Saber slung an arm around my shoulders as we walked to our cars.

  “What do you think of Donita?”

  “She’s sure not what I thought she’d be, but she’s telling the truth about that jewelry.”

  “I’m convinced, too. Wish she’d have come clean earlier though. I would have liked putting the silver screws to Laurel.”

  “What I’d like to know is how Laurel found out about Jo-Jo. There’s no way Cici told her.”

  “You’re right. Jo-Jo didn’t crash the cookout until after nine o’clock, so the timing is impossible unless Cici saw Jo-Jo at Wal-Mart.”

  “He did have new duds by Sunday night.”

  “I still think Ike’s had Laurel keeping tabs on you.”

  “There’s a spectacularly creepy thought. Saber, why is Ike so paranoid about this nest competition business? Why doesn’t the VPA shut nests down entirely?”

  “Nests bind vampires together. Gives them a sense of community and safety.”

  “Huh. Like a club?”

  “More or less. You might be in one now if you hadn’t been buried and out of circulation.”

  I snorted. “Not likely.”

  “Why not?”

  “Been there, despised that. I wouldn’t feel safe in a nest if my afterlife depended on it.”

  He grinned and opened my car door. “Go keep your surfing date with Neil, and imagine flying is as easy as surfing.”

  SEVEN

  All right, so maybe surfing might feel a little like flying. Neil and I sure flew through the bitchin’ waves that an offshore storm was kicking up on Monday morning.

  Falling was still another matter. Taking a tumble into waves, I could handle. Concrete? Not so much.