Sable Hart, Vampire Slayer (Book 3): Blood Hunger

by Megan Hawke

  "Why?" I said. "Everyone knows that sworn statements by vampires are not admissible in court. We're evil, so can't be trusted to tell the truth."

  Both Dane and Longhouse rolled their eyes and turned away. I got that reaction a lot. Even before I was Changed into a vampire.

  "Was that weapons cache on Harry Hines really yours?" he said.

  "Yeah. Why?"

  And why was he bringing all this old shit up? I thought all that was resolved weeks ago. The DA's office released a statement saying no charges were being filed.

  "Do you know how many men died that day?"

  "No," I said. I really didn't. It never occurred to me to find out. "They were trying real hard to kill me, Detective." I opened wide and showed him my fangs. He was not unaffected by the sight. "They succeeded, in a way. That was the night Yuri Romanov Changed me into a vampire. At that weapons cache."

  "That's history anyway," Dane said. He was very uncomfortable. Not a subject he liked to discuss. That was the night he lost his girlfriend. Me. "We're here to help with the murder of Penny Degge."

  "What he said," I said. "Could we get the apartment cleared of people before I go in?"

  "Why?" Morris said, eyes narrowed.

  "Their scents muddied the air," I said.

  "You can smell who the killer is?"

  "Maybe," I said. "If you and your men haven't muddied the air too much."

  "No one said anything about letting you have free rein inside without supervision," Morris said. He looked at Longhouse. Then he narrowed his eyes at me. "You've already stolen evidence from another crime scene."

  I did, but how did he know? I never admitted to Longhouse I took anything. It could've been the two Family wolves. Was he just blaming me because I was convenient?

  "If you stay back, you can come inside too," I said, shaking my head woefully. "I only need a short walk through to catch his scent. I think."

  "You don't know?"

  "I've never done this before, Detective," I said. I leveled my coldest gaze on him. He shivered. There was power in a vampire's gaze, even without mesmerizing. "I hunt vampires. I've been hunting this one. If I can catch his scent, then I can confirm who the killer is when we cross paths."

  "I got the impression you already might know who the killer is," he said. I nodded. "I suspect it is a secret vampire member of The Crimson Knot, or one from the vampire strip club across the street."

  "So do I," I said. I indicated the apartment again. "If you would be so kind."

  "Anderson!"

  "Yeah?" a tall, slim redheaded man said.

  "Clear out the apartment," Morris said, not taking his eyes off me. I think he was looking me in the eyes to prove he wasn't afraid. Unless he was a dhampir, he should be afraid. Some Dhampirs cannot be mesmerized. "I am going to find out who killed all of those people, and that person will be punished. After you, Miss Hart."

  Was he talking about the serial killer murders? Or all of my many dust-ups with Yuri, Clive, and their Families? I had a strong feeling it was a threat and a warning.

  "Well bless your heart," I said.

  His dark eyes narrowed, then he smiled grimly. We understood each other perfectly. Of all the people there, I think only Dane didn't understand that what I said wasn't meant to be nice. Dane wasn't from Texas or the South.

  A dozen men filed out of the apartment and down the stairs. My senses showed there was still one more up there. He came out a few seconds later, stuffing something too small to see into a resealable bag. They formed a double line between me and the stairs, whether intentionally or not, I couldn't say. But it gave me the chance to get their scents as I walked past.

  Morris followed me up the stairs. Dane came next, with Longhouse bringing up the rear. Morris stayed just inside the door, while Dane and Longhouse remained out on the landing. I walked to the center of the living room and stopped.

  Penny's apartment was expensively decorated. Nothing but the best in furnishing and decorations. I guess I expected kinksters like her to decorate their homes like brothels. Don't know why. I just do.

  The carpet was beige. The furniture was modern and comfortable looking. Everything was immaculately clean. But she couldn't clean away her scent. It permeated everything. I didn't smell Gustav, Philip, or even Old Spice in there.

  No luck in the kitchen or dining room, either. I avoided looking into the bathroom, instead going into the spare bedroom. Penny had turned it into a combination office and kinky closet. Several racks of rubber and leather fetish wear were kept in there, along with a good three dozen shoes and boots. Most was fetish footwear, with five inch and higher stiletto heels. Her computer was booted up, and the screen saver shifted through image after image of women bound tightly in different positions.

  There was a tall chest of drawers and two sets of six foot high book shelves, all heavily laden with BDSM paraphernalia. Mostly rope, chains, shackles and manacles. I was surprised by the wide range of design for manacles and shackles, including spreader bars and combination manacles and shackles. Half the stuff I didn’t even have a name for, but could figure out how it was used. The chest of drawers was filled with various kinds of gags, whips, cat-o-nines, butt plugs, and other more sinister looking things.

  "She took her kink seriously," I muttered. That room reeked of Penny, with very minor traces of Sabrina, Isabella, and Nessa. No male scent.

  There was a vanity in the spare bedroom, and on it she had that same photo I stole from Whitney's apartment. Only this time it was shattered, with a wicked looking steak knife stabbed through Roger's picture, pinning it to the vanity. I had to wonder if that was intentional.

  I got no scent off the knife handle at all.

  Going across the hall to the master bedroom, I once again avoiding looking at Penny's corpse hanging in the bathroom. There would be way too much time for that unpleasant job.

  I stopped dead in my tracks just two steps into the master bedroom. I sucked in a deep breath.

  "What?" Morris said. "What did you find?"

  "This room reeks of sex," I said. It was riling up my libido. There was vamp pheromones in there, almost faded away. And trace scents of Old Spice and Penny's Shalimar perfume intermingled. "There was a lot of sex going down in here, and I don't mean just when she was raped. Prior to that, Penny entertained a lot of different men in here."

  Gustav’s scent was there. And Philip’s and Roger’s scents, too. In fact, I could pick out over a dozen scents of men, and almost that many women. Whether they were all having sex there I didn’t know. One of the scents was Sabrina. Actually, the two strongest scents were Sabrina and Roger. Two of Penny’s best friends.

  Does Sabrina sleep with other women?

  I was happy to note neither Sabrina nor Roger left their scents on the bed itself. Both Gustav and Philip had been in Penny’s bed. And Isabella, Nessa, and Master T.

  Penny was a very active girl.

  I walked over to the closet, looking inside. The door was ajar, so Morris shouldn't be too outraged that I touched the knob and pulled the door wide. He did growl low when I did it.

  The closet was full to overfilling with "normal" clothes. Most of it common college girl stuff, like jeans and tanks and other cute clothes. She had some stunning designer evening wear, too. Versace. Donna Karen. Gucci and Chanel.

  "College girl, huh?"

  "We think she had a rich boyfriend, or was an expensive call girl," Morris said. "We haven't figured it out yet. She's never officially had a job. Nothing she paid taxes on, anyway. Do vampires pay taxes?"

  Was he looking for a way to take me down? The man made me feel paranoid.

  "If they know what's good for them, they do," I said. “It was the IRS that took Capone down. Vampires never survive their first day in jail.”

  “Saves a fortune on trials and incarceration.”

  “Nice. Back to Penny, was she an SMU student?” I said. “All of the others were SMU students, right?”

  Morris paused to flip open
a note pad. He flipped through a few pages before answering.

  “Penny is the first non SMU student. She went to Dallas County Community College. Richland College.”

  That would make sense. Richland College was just up the street. Five minutes away.

  “She seems to have money,” I said. “Why not attend a major university? We have several in the area.”

  “Low SAT,” Morris said.

  Wow. He was thorough. I didn’t want him looking to pin anything on me. Detective Morris rated some attention after this sordid affair was resolved. A visit to Boney was in order, to learn the best ways to keep the prying eyes of the local police off me.

  I steeled myself the best I could. Time to check out the body. Penny Degge. I didn’t know Penny well at all, but I did know her. There was guilt, too. If I had already found the killer she would be alive now. What if I had told everyone at The Crimson Knot that Gustav and Philip were vampires? Would that have forced them to flee Dallas, and thus save Penny? Was I partly to blame for her murder, due to inaction?

  Stepping past Detective Morris, I went into the bathroom. It was as immaculately clean as the rest of the house, but everything on the counter was pushed to one side. Penny was hanging over the bathtub. The silvery steel ring she was hanging from was screwed up into the ceiling, into a joist. There were two other holes next to it, where he tried and missed a joist. The bits of sheetrock were still in the bathtub, so he didn’t bother cleaning up after himself.

  There was also urine and feces in the bathtub. I guess from Penny’s dying body. That caught me off guard.

  The combined stenches of sex, urine, and feces filled the room, with just an undertone of Old Spice. The smell of Old Spice was coming off her. Faint traces, really. On her breasts, rump, neck. All the places a man would put his hands or face.

  Let me tell you, a two day old corpse is not a pretty sight. I didn't deal with such old corpses as a rule. It rattled me to see her in that condition. The only marks on her body were four little needle wounds in her neck.

  Despite all of that, what struck me, what caused me to freeze in place the second I stepped in was how Penny was tied up and suspended. It was exactly the same way that Gustav suspended her at The Crimson Knot, late Sunday night. With the same red rope they used at the bondage club. She was killed later than night.

  “Do you have a time of death?”

  “Around six in the morning, Monday morning,” Morris said. “That’s crime scene boys’ best guess at this time.”

  Penny hung very low over the tub. Her ankles were bound and held higher than her head, with only her breasts lower than her neck. The only real difference was her hair was tied in a ponytail and another rope ran between it and the shower head, thus holding her head up high.

  "He certainly took his time tying her up," I said, noting how exquisitely each knot was tied. Every rope looped around her body or limbs was laid with precision. I knew just enough to recognize the killer tied her with what the membership of The Crimson Knot would consider perfection. "I've only seen...hmmm."

  Roger tied me up that well. He was obsessive compulsive about his knots and ropes. But he was even faster than Gustav.

  For the first time I considered whether Roger could be the Crimson Knot Killer. Penny's murder, and the way she was bound, seemed to cast the spotlight on both Gustav and Roger. Strangely leaving out Philip. The club membership I spoke with thought Philip a close second to Roger in talent.

  "You've only seen what?" Morris said. "We're not paying you to hold back information, Sable."

  I slanted a raised eyebrow look over my shoulder. "You're paying me? How much?"

  "Huh?" he said, eyes glazing over. He'd made a mistake, and needed to figure a way out of it.

  "Were the other three victims tied up like this?" I asked, changing the subject. I couldn't let him get his wits too fast. "With the same red rope?"

  "Yeah. Same rope. Same position."

  "Exactly like this?" I said. "Really?"

  "It's important?"

  "Extremely," I said.

  "Same basic position," he said slowly, thinking hard. "No two are exactly the same. The other three are more alike than this. Now tell me why it is important."

  Now it was time for me to dance around. How much could I tell him without ruining the lives of two other vampires?

  "Some of these bondage aficionados can get into ruts, so to speak. If every victim was tied up exactly alike, then that would be a clue to his identity," I said. "Since they are not exactly alike it isn't really helpful. But I'm not a detective like you, so maybe you can discern something useful out of it."

  If he did Morris was not forthcoming with that information. He made some notes in his small pad, then pointed at Penny.

  "Don't you think that's a bit much just to drain a girl of blood?" he said.

  "Absolutely," I said. "But the killer and victims are all people heavy into the art of bondage."

  "Are you absolutely sure?" he asked. "Could the killer be using all this elaborate bondage stuff to throw us off his trail?"

  "Could you tie her up like that? With that degree of precision?"

  "No."

  "Neither could I," I said. "The killer is obsessed with this flavor of kink. Too obsessed to just tie her up and drain her."

  "Miss Degge is a member of that bondage club, The Crimson Knot. Correct?" Morris said.

  "Yes."

  "Do you think the killer is a member of that club?"

  I hesitated. If I answered truthfully, it could damn Roger, Gustav, and Philip, whether any of them were guilty or not. But what was more important? Preserving their kinky little lifestyles, or stopping the killer?

  "Yes."

  "But vampires are not permitted," Morris said. "In fact, according to the owner you are the only vampire member of the club."

  "Are you accusing me of being the killer?"

  "No. We know the killer is male. Of course, you could be assisting him," he said, and wrote something else on his little pad. "I'm going to need some hair samples from you before you leave."

  I didn't answer. That wasn't going to happen. The less the police had on me the better.

  "You know who all of the vampire members are, don't you?"

  "Maybe. I've met less than half the membership," I said. My heart began to race. I had bargained my knowledge to gain access, and now Morris was collecting. The crime scene was only giving me more questions, and few answers. I had hoped I would be able to sniff out the killer by visiting, but everyone's scent was present. "I only joined this week, and have only visited twice."

  "Names, Sable. Names," Morris said, his voice dropping into a dangerous tone.

  I felt like a traitor. How did I get to that place, where destroying any vampire was not only acceptable, but paramount? One of them was probably the killer. Just probably. It felt wrong to out them, but then I looked at poor Penny. I couldn't allow another woman to die.

  "Gustav Herrman," I said, almost choking on his name. "And Philip...I can't recall his last name."

  "Philip Jenkins or Philip Murphy?"

  "Murphy. Philip Murphy is a vampire," I said.

  "You're Black Heart. How come you haven't staked them?"

  "They haven't proven to me they are rogue," I said. "I can't stake every vampire in Dallas. Some are decent, law abiding citizens." I laughed when he frowned. "I know, I was surprised, too. Most vamps drink cow blood and lead rather bland, normal lives. When they snap and go rogue, I hunt them down and stake them."

  "Hmmm," he said, flipping through several pages of his notes. "Do any of these vampires have alibis?"

  That was the question. Roger had an alibi. He was at work, then with me afterwards. Gustav seemingly had an alibi, with Sabrina, but with his vampiric powers that was debatable. I had no idea where Philip was Sunday night, Monday morning.

  Every indication was that Gustav and Philip were jealous of Roger and his friendship with those six girls. But was that really the issue? Wh
at was it about Roger, or those six girls? Or was it a specific girl? No, this looked too much like revenge killings to me.

  The knife stabbed through Roger on the picture in the next room indicated a deep hatred of him. Someone really had it out for him. It occurred to me that I really hadn't discussed with Roger how he felt about these young women being killed. They were his friends, and mostly I asked him about Gustav and Philip.

  I couldn't keep the frown off my face. We discussed the killings, and the two other vamps. His feelings never came up. Of course, we were both vampires so grief eluded us to a certain degree. We could feel all the emotions, like grief, shame, and loss, but it never lasted. That was just another aspect of my humanity I lost, and missed.

  "I don't know," I said. I shrugged when he gave me a sharp look. "I just met them, Detective. I've spoken more with you this evening than them combined. I'm Black Heart, and other vamps are terrified of me. Few are interested in speaking with me, much less establishing a friendship."

  He looked my barely clothed body up and down.

  "Really? That's hard to believe. You look like the kind of girl your average vampire loves to sink his fangs into," Morris said.

  "I know, right?" I said, and laughed. "I guess they can't get past the fact my hobby is driving wooden stakes through the hearts of undead fiends. Go figure."

  "Yeah, go figure," he said, putting his note pad away. "Well, it's been more helpful having you here than I thought. I have work to do, and a killer to find."

  "Me, too," I said. "And when I find him, Black Heart will have her way with him."

  Chapter 9

  We had work to do, and Dane wasn't happy. After leaving Penny's apartment, I took him back to Kinky Corner and got him kinked up. He wouldn't go too far, but I got him in black leather pants. Nice and tight ones, too. Yum. With a matching leather vest. Dane categorically refused to wear a slave collar, but I coaxed him into a pair of leather braces that covered half his forearms. He was wearing black cowboy boots, and those worked well after a couple coats of polish.