As fascinating as the discussions were, they didn't help Victoria in eliminating possibilities.
It wasn't until mid-afternoon when Kate finally called her. Victoria checked on her condition, making sure she was okay. Kate's voice was still emotional, but she insisted she was fine. She gave instructions for how to access their network and check the security cameras, as well as taking down one of Victoria's email addresses for the records she wanted to send.
Victoria spent nearly an hour simply combing through data. Finally, she found what she wanted, the appointment log. At long last, she knew the identity of the second mortal, the one who followed Olivia to Tony's club. Trish. Trish had filled out a personality profile for the Vermilion, along with every other mortal and vampire that wanted to use its services. Victoria frowned at the collection of nearly two-hundred profiles. Did someone really have to fill out their hobbies and interests in order to feed, or have a desire to be fed from? Did Frank do any kind of personality matching before scheduling a suite? The idea seemed ludicrous, but she had to appreciate his thoroughness if it were true.
The appointment log for the day prior confirmed what she'd already seen. A slow evening, which looked to be the case for weeknights in general. Olivia was paired with a vampire named Matthew, their first time together. In fact, it was Matthew's first trip to the Vermilion. Victoria felt sorry for him, more than for anyone else. His first visit to the Vermilion was his last.
Trish was paired with a woman named Molly. Victoria double-checked the personality profiles, and sure enough, they'd requested to be matched with women only. Frank really did do his homework. Victoria noticed that Trish and Molly had been together before, several times. If they were familiar with each other, why use the Vermilion at all? Perhaps it was the same reason married couples rented hotel rooms, even though their bed was perfectly fine at home. Or maybe it was out of loyalty to the place.
The appointment logs mostly followed the same format, although oddities stuck out every so often. Most appointments were for an hour, with several stretching to two. Most pairings were one on one, but Victoria raised an eyebrow at some of the exceptions. The exceptions went beyond pairings, and dipped into exotic territory. Groups of three, four, and five, with differing amounts of men and women. She wouldn't want to be the one responsible for the cleanup after those appointments.
Victoria nearly missed it, as the names were starting to run together in her mind. But she noticed that Olivia and Trish's last visit to the Vermilion also happened to be at the same time, three days ago. They were with different partners in different suites, like before.
The two women used the Vermilion's services, and then three nights later, the vampires that fed from them died. Victoria didn't believe that was a coincidence. She also felt a stab of anger and shook her head in frustration when she saw the name of the vampire Olivia was paired up with.
Thomas Sanders. The vampire she tracked and politely lectured before her trip to New Delhi.
"Son of a bitch," she muttered.
She followed Kate's instructions, and within ten minutes was browsing the Vermilion's security system. The footage wasn't as fluid, running over the Internet through a VPN connection, but it was still serviceable. She went back three days, to the hallway camera. Sure enough, she watched Kate lead Thomas and Olivia to their suite. Ten minutes later, Trish and a vampire named Elisha, according to the log, were led to another. Several more suites were filled, one with a threesome, nearly filling up the Vermilion. It was no wonder Frank didn't want to close down.
After a five minute lull, the real fun began.
Victoria was reminded of some of the episodes of Scooby-Doo she watched in the seventies. Vampires and mortals alike moved from room to room. Some were half dressed, while others didn't care and braved the hallway sans any clothing at all. She couldn't keep track of all the body parts bouncing around, but in the end, Thomas, Trish, Olivia, and another female vampire were in a suite together.
Where was security during the swapping? She doubted the cost of a pairing was the same as a foursome. Where were Frank and Michael?
The answer lay within the lobby camera. Kate was alone for most of the night, with Frank only making an appearance occasionally before leaving through the main doors to the club. Michael spent more time in the lobby, but it seemed he flirted with Kate more than anything else. The body language said it all. He leaned against her desk, bright smile, and hovered over her shoulder while they watched videos on the computer.
It was in the middle of those videos, only an hour after opening the doors, that a man stepped into the lobby.
At first Victoria thought he was only a customer. He sat in the lobby and browsed his smartphone, his attention far away from Michael and Kate. Victoria waited for his partner or partners to show up, but none of the mortals or vampires that passed through the Vermilion were there for him.
He did, however, take an active interest in everyone that arrived.
While Kate checked the customers in the mystery guest chatted up mortals and vampires alike. He spent an extra amount of time with Thomas, which she made a mental note of.
It was his conversation with the first mortal that arrived, Olivia, that grabbed Victoria's attention.
The talk was simple enough. A few laughs, a touch on the shoulder. Finally, Thomas arrived, and Kate moved from behind her desk to whisk them away.
But before the couple left the lobby, the guest gave something to Olivia. Victoria had to freeze the footage to make it out. It appeared to be a plastic bag, its contents unknown.
As the vampires and mortals showed up for their appointments, he gave a plastic bag to every human. He attempted to do so with the vampires as well, but they refused him.
Victoria watched the footage three times.
Each hand-off went the same way. Casual conversation, sometimes cupped whispering, almost flirting with the ladies. Handshakes and pats on the shoulders with the guys. Then he would hand them a plastic bag. They made sure neither Kate or Michael saw the exchange.
It was only after everyone arrived and the suites were filled that Michael seemed to notice the stranger. He had a brief talk with Kate before approaching the stranger and asking him to leave.
Victoria was very interested in meeting that person.
She watched the footage four more times, studying every nuance, every flinch, every footstep. She guessed the man was mortal, although she couldn't be sure. His movements seemed to match his physical appearance. He didn't move with the balance and grace of an older being, even when unwatched. But that could simply be knowledge of the camera that dictated his behavior.
Victoria reached for her phone and called Greg Walters, the private investigator, one of many employed by her, responsible for keeping an eye on Thomas Sanders. She hadn't talked to him in a few weeks, and hoped that her silence didn't give the impression that she didn't wanted Thomas tracked.
"Hello?"
"Greg, it's Victoria."
"Ah, my favorite client. It's been a while."
"Yeah, listen…." She wanted to skip the small talk. "Tell me you're still keeping track of that little worm Thomas Sanders."
"Yeah, I have people on it. And look, about that. That whole job has already bought me a new motor home. We're still going because you haven't given the red light, but when are we stopping on him?"
"Not anytime soon. Where is he now?"
"Hold on. Let me send a quick text." Greg's phone shifted to speaker while he typed away. "Hey, while I've got you on the phone, tell me. Uh, how do I phrase this? Is there something going on with your…uh, race?"
"What do you mean?"
"You guys aren't planning a takeover or anything? I've had a few missing persons cases tossed my way this week. All of them involving vampires."
Victoria sighed. An uneasiness settled over her.
"We're definitely not taking over."
"Okay. That's all I want to know. I wouldn't make it as some kind of bloody sex
slave. I just got the text. The last few nights he's been staying at an abandoned parking garage. I'll send you the address. Partying, feeding, whatever else you all do. The bottom level is underground. Pretty clever."
"Yeah, that Thomas is a wily one. Thanks, Greg. Keep sending those bills."
"Oh, don't worry about that."
Victoria hung up and left the basement. She was surprised to see the night was slowly beginning to take hold. She'd been in front of the computer and on the phone all day. If she confronted Thomas she wouldn't have the sun as an ally.
Not that she needed it.
CHAPTER 14
Zoey let out a deep breath as she slowly pulled up next to the gas pump. She was somewhere in the middle of Indiana, having turned off the interstate to find a convenience store or gas station. Her goal was approaching ever so slowly, after a night of driving. She tried to hold onto that, let it strengthen her. She was going to confront Steven, make him pay for what he did.
She was going to kill him. The how of the matter was still unknown, but the end result of her trip was clear in her mind. She was standing over him, watching him bleed to death, with a wooden stake sticking out of his chest as his body burned.
The anger, the strength that she felt threatened to leave.
She'd never been so scared in her life.
The true depths of the mess she was in, that she created for herself, struck her two hours before. She'd ran over something on the interstate, giving her a flat tire. It was the first flat she'd experienced in her short life. She'd never even held a tire-iron before.
It took her ten minutes of searching the Jeep, three of which were spent crying, to even find the jack, secured under the hood. She spent another ten trying to figure out how to remove the spare mounted on the back. No one pulled over to check on her.
Her newfound strength did help her. After lifting the Jeep she went to work on the lug-nuts. She didn't know what they used to tighten them, but it took more effort than she would have thought to loosen them. A regular human wouldn't have been able to do it.
Zoey managed to swap the tire, but the inconvenience slapped her awake, forced her to face the truth. She was alone. She was alone in a state she wouldn't have been able to point out on a map a week ago. She had no working phone, didn't even know the phone numbers of anyone to call. That was what contact lists and smartphones were for. Even if she wanted to call Victoria and beg for help, she didn't have the means to do so.
Not that Victoria even wanted to talk to her.
As she sat miserable in her own world in the Jeep, her eyes caught the gas gauge, the reason she was detouring in the first place. The needle barely hovered over empty. Not only was she alone in the middle of nowhere, but she was also nearly out of gas.
A tapping at the window made her jump. A middle—aged man peered at her, concerned. Zoey rolled down the window. He smelled of coffee and tobacco.
"Hey, miss," he said. "Are you okay?"
Zoey eyed her surroundings. The gas station was nearly empty, with only a few scattered cars spread about the pumps. The hour was late. A truck with a trailer sat behind the station, away from everything else. She assumed the big rig was his.
"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she said, forcing a smile. "Just tired."
"Well, alright. Listen, be careful out here. Pretty young thing like you shouldn't be out so late."
The line sounded creepy, but he meant nothing by it. She thanked the man, and he nodded a farewell. Opening the glove compartment, she wondered how she would pay for gas. Victoria's credit cards sat there, mocking her.
"You should have taken a damn airplane," she scolded herself. "It would have been two hours. No sun at all."
The idea sounded so clever, so good, but totally impractical. She left Victoria's house in a hurry, with only a sliver of night remaining. She didn't have the time to browse for a flight, buy a ticket, or drive to the airport.
Her mind reached beyond the problem currently staring at her. It was nearly four in the morning. She didn't have much darkness left. After somehow getting gas, she would have to find shelter. She wasn't going to make it to Illinois before the sun came up. Not even close.
"Relax, Zoey," she told herself. "One thing at a time."
She stared at the phone to help ease her spirits. Despite everything that had happened, everything that had gone wrong, from sleeping under the Jeep to being without gas at a gas station, the phone was doing exactly what Kevin said it would. Slowly, with each passing hour of travel, the map on the phone was changing. It no longer showed a map of the country, but instead resembled something she'd find on the Internet. A map of Indiana and Illinois, with routes and streets, and the now-familiar flashing light.
Zoey was getting closer. She would find Steven. She just needed gas.
Opening the driver's door, she glanced at the few others filling their own vehicles. Given the hour, she wasn't surprised many of them didn't look like they wanted to socialize. She wasn't above asking for help, begging for gas money. It was only two short years ago, three months removed from their sixteenth birthdays, that Kylie and Zoey were stranded in another town, on their way home from a Halloween party. Zoey approached anyone she could, asking for help getting home. She tried a mix of being adorable and upset, which wasn't far from the truth. She always wanted to believe it was the goodness in people's hearts, and not her skills at flirting, which helped them get home.
She'd been driving all night, and was sure she looked it. A glance in the rear-view mirror held a surprise. She actually still had a glow to her. Her cheeks were flush, her hair bouncy. At least she wouldn't look like zombie, shuffling slowly to the first person she saw.
"You go, you vampire," she whispered.
She reached across the seat to close the glove compartment, and saw the credit cards once again. Plucking one at random with her fingers, she glanced between the card and the gas pump. What was the worst that could happen if she tried it? Irrational thoughts attacked her. Police could swarm out of nowhere. Helicopters might fly overhead, or loud sirens would go off.
"Stop being stupid," she told herself.
The worst thing that would happen is the card wouldn't go through, and she'd be back to her original plan.
She swiped the card and hoped for the best. The declined or try again message she was expecting didn't greet her. The pump told her to wait, and then prompted her to select her gas.
Zoey broke into a small smile. It was a minor win, but a win all the same.
It simply wasn't possible that, in nearly twenty-four hours, Victoria hadn't noticed Zoey was gone. It was possible she didn't notice her credit cards were gone, and didn't cancel them.
But Zoey didn't believe that. Victoria was too smart.
"Thank you," she said.
She had new life in her stride after she filled the Jeep and headed for the store. If the cards were still working she figured it would be okay to spend the day in a hotel. She had to remember to make a list of the few things she bought. Somehow, someway, she would pay Victoria back.
The man behind the counter poked at a smartphone, and didn't look up even when Zoey approached.
"Excuse me?" she said.
He looked up, and then she had his attention. Zoey was no longer frail, no longer hid in her basement crying and moping. She could turn heads once again, even more so than before.
"Hi," she said, flashing her brightest smile. "Is there a hotel I can stay at around here?"
She felt silly as soon as she asked the question. There was a GPS in the Jeep, capable of leading her anywhere.
The attendant gave her directions to a hotel a few blocks away, adding some flirting for good measure. She found the hotel without incident, and shoved everything in the back of the Jeep into her bag. She was down to two bottles of blood. Two bottles of blood to last her another day.
Then she'd be without a drop.
The hotel lobby was empty. She hoped checking in would be as easy as buying gas. Paranoia hove
red nearby as she approached the desk. She made sure she knew every exit, in case she had to run. A camera was in the corner, down the hall leading to the bathrooms and snack machines. She kept her head low, as if she were an international criminal.
Zoey checked in with no issues. She even signed her own name while using Victoria's card. The woman behind the desk seemed to be more interested in Zoey herself than any forms she was filling out. She guessed not many teenagers checked into their hotel carrying a single bag over their shoulder.
Her eyes lit up when she opened the door to her room on the second floor and saw the bed. It was only a single, nothing special, but she was so tired. Vampire or not, she ached. She'd found herself nodding off at the wheel several times on the tail end of the drive, one of the most dangerous things to do. Tossing her bag onto the chair in the corner, she kicked her shoes off and stepped inside. She didn't bother to unpack, or even remove her clothes. She was going to enjoy beautiful sleep.
Zoey stopped as her knee touched the mattress. There were two large windows overlooking the street below. She sighed as she put her hands on her hips, taking in the view.
There was still work to be done.
Studying the room, she searched for anything and everything she could use. Sheets covering the windows were useless. Sunlight would flood in and fry her to a crisp. What she needed was thick, heavy trash bags, and plenty of tape, of which she had none.
In the end, she went with a solution that made her laugh aloud. She made a tent with the mattress and box-spring, using the large heating and cooling unit in front of the window as a support. The mattress was flat on the floor, with the box-spring serving as an angled roof. The triangle shape cut into her sleeping room a bit, but it provided all the darkness she needed.
Damned and Cursed (Book 7): Four Centuries Page 22
