Blood Sport (The American Arcane Book 2)

by Justen Hunter

  Ishmael paused for a moment, considering. “A few. I'm not particularly enthusiastic about her myself, and she has been rebellious towards me in the past.”

  “Any reason you would want to knock off two vampires?” I asked, and immediately regretted I did.

  Ishmael turned, holding his whiskey glass in his hand as he strode towards me. “Mister Carpenter,” He growled. Vampires can move fast. Really fast. I had never seen Ishmael use his powers before. I didn't even see him pick me up by the scruff of my shirt and lift me up. I squirmed, letting out a sound that I was ashamed to call a squeak. “Do not ever, ever again, question my motives.” He hissed.

  Teresa stood up. “Sir, I-”

  “-If I wished for your help in scolding an insolent witch, I'd ask for it, Teresa.” He looked me in the eyes. “Even in jest, I do not appreciate you making the remark that I would have two vampires, two of my kind, killed. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, Count Ishmael.” I was able to gasp out.

  Ishmael tossed me back into the chair, making me relieved that it was padded. “Witches, you don't know your place.” He hissed. “Get out of here, Mister Carpenter, before I really lose my temper with you.”

  I pulled myself up from my seat, avoiding eye contact with Ishmael as I beat a hasty retreat. For Ishmael, this was new. Hell, this was unique. I had never seen him lose his temper before. I walked out of the room, shutting the door behind me. I pulled out my phone, and type out a quick text message to Teresa.

  The message that I got back from her wasn't too encouraging. “Talk later. Politics.”

  I groaned, running a hand through my hair in frustration. I decided that if I had to get information through Ishmael, it might be best to return when he wasn't in the most insane mood I'd ever seen him in.

  After stuffing my cell phone back in my pocket, I went back to the car. I decided to head back, and see if I could find Renee Corazon on my own without prodding master vampire.

  Chapter 9

  I was checking my official “Knight of the Bay” email when I heard the front door of Matt's house open. “Hello,” I called out.

  “Eric,” I heard Amy and I turned my head back. She and Serena were walking through the door, carrying take out.

  “How did it go in Bakersfield?” I asked.

  “Well enough,” Amy said as she sat across the table from me and grabbed some noodles from the bag she had brought in. “Serena?”

  “They asked me a bunch of questions, and they're going to make me register with the Bureau of Arcane Affairs, but it's cool now, I guess. With Bauer dead, there isn't much they need me for unless some other investigation comes up.”

  I looked over to Serena as she sat down. “So how are you doing through all of this?”

  She shook her head. “It wasn't fun reliving that if that's what you're asking.” She pulled out her own dinner, and sighed. “Amy was nice to have though.”

  “I did my best to help her through it,” Amy assured me.

  Serena gave an indignant snort. “She did a lot more than that. She was really a good person to have there.” Her expression softened. “Really, she was.”

  “Aw, Amy, you big softie.” I teased, then softened my tone. “Thanks, Amy. Seriously.”

  “She wasn't too bad of company,” Serena said. “Even if she eats vegetarian.”

  I smirked. “Yeah, she does have that little fault, but I can forgive her that one.”

  “I prefer not to eat flesh.” Amy shrugged. “In the grand scheme of things, it matters little. How did your investigation go tonight?”

  “Well, where do you want to start? There's the vampire baroness who I'm pretty sure is hiding something, or we could go with Ishmael tossing me around like a rag doll when I ticked him off.”

  “He WHAT?” Amy looked up from her meal, nearly dropping her fork. “You cannot be serious.”

  “I hit some button or something. I made a...okay, I may have made a joke about him having any reason to kill two vampires. He flew off the handle over that.”

  Serena frowned. “Is he usually like that?”

  “No, Ishmael is one of the most calm vampires I've ever met. The guy is usually a vision of control. I imagine something has been eating at him or something. Teresa mentioned that it might have something to do with politics.”

  Amy frowned. “Even so, it is perhaps best you do not anger the Count in the future. Ishmael is by far the oldest vampire in the Bay.”

  “I don't have any plans to the contrary.” I reached up to rub at the back of my neck. “I do have one lead. Know a Renee Corazon?”

  “I have heard of her. She runs a New Age store. I have no idea if she is legitimately magical, though.”

  “We'll take a look tomorrow.” I said. “Hopefully she'll have some answers.”

  Serena headed over to the couch and slumped down on it. “So, Ishmael. What's he actually like?”

  “Insanely smart, and a good business man. I've never really figured out his background beyond his age, which is best described as very old. He's never been too keen on sharing.”

  Amy nodded. “He is a shrewd man. He was not happy about public exposure when Four-Thirteen happened, but he was a generous investor in the artificial plasmas that were being developed.”

  Serena tilted her head curiously. “So vampires could actually live off it? One of my room mates in college was sure it was a scam that the vampires had made up.”

  “Nope. From what I've heard, a lot less sustaining than blood, but you can drink it. Definitely easier than picking willing donors.”

  Serena looked at me. “Come on, I'm pretty sure I could find lots of pretty people who'd willingly go for a bite.”

  “You don't want the junkies.” I said, and blanched a little. I thought of one of my old coworkers, who didn't seem too bad, but fetishizing vampires wasn't exactly something I understood. I was dating one, but I liked Teresa for Teresa, not because she was undead.

  Amy nodded. “Indeed. The bottled alternatives are generally hold less risk. There are still the human activist groups occasionally stalk clubs.”

  “Really?” She tilted her head to one side.

  Amy nodded. “Some of them even bring holy water to attack vampires.” She said with just a little mirth. Holy water was about as useful as tissue paper with vampires. “I am sure that, should you wish to peruse clubs for blood donors, Teresa would show you the ropes.”

  I paused for a moment, thinking about that. “My girlfriend showing you how to pick up people to suck blood. I am entirely unsure how to process that.”

  Serena shrugged. “I'm entirely sure we can figure out something that doesn't offend your sensibilities.” She teased.

  I shook my head. “I...” I thought about it. “I suppose she does hunt, occasionally, or just pick someone up.” I didn't equate drinking blood with sex. Definitely not. But I didn't even really know how I felt about it. How were you supposed to feel about that fact that your...well, what was even our label?

  There were too many questions for dating a vampire, and way too many that I suppose I should have answered in the past.

  My phone rang, and I checked the caller ID. Speak of the devil, it was Teresa. I answered. “Hey there, what's up?”

  “Hi there, Eric. Sorry about Ishmael. He's been under some pressure lately from the local lords. The murders didn't help matters.”

  I took a breath, then just replied. “It's all right. So what's up?”

  “I have a lead for you on Bauer's bloodline.” Teresa said. “Have you heard of Arnaud Dumont?”

  I thought for a moment. “Should I have?”

  “Not necessarily. He's independent, outside of the County. He's an information broker, and a fairly successful one.”

  I considered for a moment. “He would be able to help? And willing?”

  “Most likely,” Teresa paused a moment. “You would have to deal with him. You would be outside your jurisdiction, and while Dumont is a generally pleasant man, he would
expect some sort of trade.”

  “Give me the directions,” I sighed, and she did. After I hung up, I turned to Serena. “Up for a little drive?”

  Road trips were starting to become all too common. Tonight, to wrap up an insanely crazy evening, we were headed to visit Arnaud Dumont.

  “Rules,” I started. “We're the cops, but we're also fair game. We are in ridiculously murky waters.”

  “Why's that?” Serena asked from the passenger's seat.

  I sighed, figuring out how to explain it. “The Arcanes play by their own weird rules. Teresa should explain it to you, but she's not here, and I guess I'm responsible for you. They play by the “letter of the law, not the spirit' game. They're always looking to exploit.” I said.

  “Do you know how to use a knife?” I asked as I turned the car into Dumont's neighborhood. “And I'm not talking about a kitchen knife.”

  “I took a few classes. There was this European martial arts school near campus. I went a few times, and I picked up some stuff.”

  “Good.” I said. “Open up the glove compartment.”

  Serena opened it up and pulled out a fairly plain looking knife. It was mostly a stabbing weapon, though I knew you could get a few good cuts in with it. “Awesome,” She smiled and tucked it away.

  “Now, things to understand. Silver blades hurt Arcanes, but don't just count on it being Achilles' heels. It hurts them better, but your average Arcane's pretty tough.”

  “How strong are they? I mean, compared to a newborn vampire?”

  “It really depends on the Arcane. Shapeshifters can be really strong. Vampires variate, but generally the older they are, the more they can dish out.”

  “There's more than that, though, right?”

  “Yeah,” I nodded. “Red Angels...well, it depends how much they've got in their system. They're not fighters, though. I mean, they can match a linebacker, but it's not going to be inhuman.”

  Serena looked at me for a moment. “How about witches?”

  “We are the absolute bottom of the totem pole.” I shrugged. “Close to human.”

  “Except for the magic deal.”She added.

  “Well, yeah. Unfortunately, I'm not entirely good at that yet. Witch's fire is the big goal, I suppose.”

  “Witch's fire?” She asked, curious.

  “Magical fire. My mother wrote about fire a lot in her journals. Witch's fire can hurt Arcanes badly.”

  She looked at me for a moment as I started to approach Dumont's address. “Have you ever done it?”

  “Nope. I'm still a relative newbie when it comes to the magic stuff.” I explained. “Fire has, well, eluded me. That's what guns work for, though.”

  Arnaud Dumont's house was, well, beyond a house. The house had an approach beyond the gate up to the front, with a side road that led to a large garage on one wing of the house. I wasn't sure what the transition point between house and mansion was, I mused as I rolled down the window.

  “Name.” A voice crackled out of a speaker.

  “Eric Carpenter, Knight of the Bay, to see Mister Dumont.” I really wanted a badge to flash.

  There was a pause for a moment. Then the gate started to roll open. I drove us up the driveway, the large house looming even greater as we rolled up the driveway.

  “I didn't ask.” She said softly. “What kind of Arcane is Arnaud Dumont?”

  I looked back to her for just a moment. “I have no idea, Serena.”

  We drove up towards the front and I shut off the Jeep. I looked towards the front of the house, scoping it out. Two guards, both of them wearing turtleneck sweaters, were standing at the front of the door. “Ready?” I asked Serena.

  “Ready.”

  I was certainly hoping that we were. I had my Colt in its shoulder rig under my jacket, as well as the knife strapped down in an ankle holster. I hoped to not need either of them.

  We got out of the car, and I started to approach the mansion. One of the guards, a Hispanic man with a crew cut, approached. “Mister Dumont is expecting you.”

  Serena was right at my side as we walked up the steps to the door. The other guard opened up the door for us.

  The guard smiled. “Mister Dumont will see you in the study. If you'll follow me.” He turned to the right and gestured for us to follow. “I am Daniel, Mister Dumont's chief of security.”

  As I stepped over the threshold, I immediately felt something beat down on me. There was something here. Something that had magic. There was something there, and they had built something, like a net. I focused my energy, and thought on the net. I shoved it away, focusing the magic on it. Slowly, it brushed away like pushing through cobwebs.

  “You okay?” Serena whispered in my ear.

  I opened my eyes and shook my head. “I'm fine.” I insisted. “Just something here. Magic.”

  Daniel was waiting for us, paused. He had an eyebrow arched expectantly. “Mister Carpenter?”

  “Coming.” I grunted, and I followed him into the entry hall.

  To be fair, I didn't know what to call it. An entry hall sounded so blah. Matt had an entry hall. This was massive. It had two staircases, circling up to the second story of the house. A table was in the center of the hall, situated on the center of rug on top of the tiles. On it, there was an actual guest book with an actual feather pen.

  “Hell,” I murmured. “I could fit my old apartment in here.”

  Serena laughed. “You could fit my room and the two neighboring ones from my dorm in here. Life styles of the rich and Arcane?”

  “Get used to it.” I whispered back.

  Daniel led us through a door on our right, which led into a hallway. The hallway had dark woods as the walls, with fine rugs covering the floors. The rustic feel was interrupted by the glass cases on one wall.

  Inside the case were several books. Each was old, incredibly so. The one that immediately jumped out at me, however, was a Bible. On a hunch, I started to count the lines, stopping only a second.

  “What are you doing?” Serena whispered, tugging at my sleeve.

  I smiled. “He's a collector.” I whispered. “Damn.”

  “What is it?”

  “I have a theory on that Bible.” I said quietly. “I'll bet Mister Dumont picked it up at the source. Come on.”

  Daniel was very displeased with how we were keeping him up. I offered an apologetic shrug as we continued on. We walked down towards the end of one wing, where Daniel stopped at a door. He opened it for us, and ushered us in.

  The study itself matched the rest of the house, with some notable exceptions. There was an obvious mismatch of old rustic architecture and modern technology. There was an unlit fireplace, bookshelves, and a huge wooden desk that a family of four would have felt awkward eating off of just from its size. On the desk, however, were a number of computers, each relatively new, those touch screen models. A screen was up on one wall, currently deactivated.

  Arnaud Dumont, however, was by far the most impressive looking thing in the room. He was a black man, who appeared to be in his early forties. He had salt and pepper hair, shaven close to his skull, though he had a beard that looked like it had been left unchecked for a few days. His face was utterly dour, with big dark eyes. I met his eyes for a moment, and they were like dark whirlpools. I had to close my eyes to keep from losing myself. Power flowed from him like a subtle aura, infesting the air around him.

  “Mister Carpenter. I'm sorry I couldn't have met you out front. Work, as always, is a demanding mistress.” He chuckled a little, and he stood.

  He was of an average height, but he carried himself to appear taller. He wore a white dress shirt, with gray slacks and, Heaven help me, Superman socks. There was something reassuring about this. I wondered if Ishmael had secret sock choices.

  “Mister Dumont,” I approached and extended my hand. “For someone I didn't know existed before tonight, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

  He replied in kind, and shook my hand. Power flowed
across his hand. He didn't feel like anything I had met before, and I immediately knew he wasn't a witch, either.

  “I'm not a citizen of the County of Gold and Iron.” He informed me. “My house is an independent freehold.”

  “Oh, so I'm outside my jurisdiction.”

  “But I am a very gracious host.” He patted my hand, then turned to Serena. “I don't know who you are, though. That leaves me in an unusual situation.”

  Serena smiled as she walked up. “Serena Laurent, Mister Dumont. I'm the reason we're here.”

  “Ah,” He smiled a little. “Yes, the vampire fledgling.” When Serena extended her hand, he didn't shake it, he kissed it. “What Anselm Bauer did to you was nothing short of horrifying.”

  “It's been horrible, yeah.” She whispered. “But Eric and his friends have been great, really.”

  “But you need questions answered. Anselm Bauer wasn't a part of any nest or larger vampire group, as I am aware.”

  Serena nodded. “Apparently bloodlines matter with vampires.” She said.

  “Right, right, of course.” Dumont nodded. “Anselm Bauer was an interesting vampire.” He paced back towards his desk. “In that he was entirely uninteresting.”

  Serena's face twisted up in confusion. “Wait, what?”

  “That's the thing,” He explained. “Bauer was born in Prussia, turned at forty-one.” He shook his head. “Most vampires are turned for youth, or power. Bauer was a clerk at some office. Who knows what his maker saw in him?” He offered, musing.

  Serena looked down at herself. “Was that why he did it? I mean, to me? I never even met the guy.”

  “Insanity does occasionally appear in vampires. Two centuries can take its toll in a mind.” Dumont looked between us. “I don't know who Bauer's maker was. Simply put, my sources haven't been able to find it immediately. I can put some feelers out, find some information.”

  “Do it.” Serena said immediately. “What's your price?”

  “Serena.” I took a step in front of her. “Be careful what you say around Arcanes. You don't want to give him a blank check.”