The immortal seductress had insinuated herself into all sorts of unsavory operations since coming to town as an indentured servant to a fallen angel. When the angel had suddenly became un-fallen, Lilith was stuck here running his operation, and she was not happy about it. She was pretty pissed off at us the last time I saw her, but apparently ten grand bought a lot of tolerance these days.
“So where the hell did you get ten grand?” I asked.
Greg looked at Sabrina, then back at me, then shrugged. “I play a lot of online poker.”
“I thought that was illegal.” I clapped my hand over my mouth as soon as I said it, but the damage was done.
Greg glared at me. “Actually, playing poker on the Internet is perfectly legal. It’s against the law to process payment transactions, or to accept wagers from American players.”
“Do I even want to know?” I asked.
“Probably not, but since we’re this far in I may as well finish. The server in the coat closet is mirrored with one I own in Costa Rica, and I bounce my signal between them to play.”
“I have no idea what that means,” I admitted.
“It means that the poker site thinks I’m in Costa Rica, so it’s legal for me to play.”
“I was right. I didn’t want to know.”
Sabrina took the cash upstairs and deposited it on the seat of the ambulance. While she took care of that, I cleaned my guns while Greg started his online investigation. The vampiric blast from my past had kicked my normal paranoia into high gear, and I wanted to make sure all my weapons were in tip-top shape. A few minutes later Greg called me over to the computer.
“Check this out,” he whispered, clicking through a series of web pages faster than I could see them, much less read anything. Ten seconds of that, and I snatched the mouse away from him. I clicked through the tabs more slowly and saw that he’d called up the Charlotte Observer online archives as well as somehow gotten into the paper’s internal document storage. I looked through the articles on missing students, then swung Greg’s other monitor over. On that screen, he’d hacked into the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department case file database, and he had called up a good dozen or more missing persons cases.
“Anything look familiar?” he whispered.
“Why are you whispering?” Sabrina asked from over my shoulder, making us both jump.
“Look at this.” Greg pointed, drawing our attention to the screens. “Fifteen students missing over the past eighty years. All seniors or juniors ready to graduate early. All missing after a night class, and no bodies ever found. Sound familiar?”
“Yeah, it sounds like Little Mary Sunshine in there is just the latest in a whole string of vampire kills on campus.” I pointed to the case file screen again. “But something’s wrong. The last missing person was just six months ago. None of the other attacks have happened within three years of each other.”
“So our vampire got careless,” Sabrina said.
“Careless vampires don’t live very long. And they certainly don’t live most of a century in one location and then make a stupid mistake like turning someone too close to the last victim. Besides, look at this case.” I clicked on one of the older files and pointed at the date.
“What about it?” she asked.
“I know two things for a fact. One, the vampire that turned Abby was the same vampire that turned me. I’d know that smell anywhere. And two, I know that she was not in Charlotte when this murder was reported.”
“What makes you so sure? I mean, I believe that it smelled like her, but don’t some people smell alike?”
Greg and I didn’t even hesitate, we both just said, “No.”
My partner, ever the more educational type, explained a little. “Scents are like fingerprints, at least in our experience. No one smells just like someone else. There are a lot of things that go into a person’s scent—their ethnicity, their blood type, their geography, their occupation, their diet, their drug uses and abuses, even whether or not they drink regular coffee or decaf. The odds of two people having the exact same scent is so astronomical as to be impossible.”
Sabrina’s eyes were wide. “I didn’t know you got that much out of someone’s smell.” She looked at me pointedly.
“It can get a little personal if we’re not careful, so we don’t talk about it. But trust me, when a vampire says he likes the way you smell, it’s a pretty huge compliment.”
She blushed and looked away. After a minute she asked, “And how do you know the vampire that turned you wasn’t in Charlotte that particular night?”
“Because that’s the night she killed me in Clemson, almost three hours from here. She didn’t have time to do both.” I didn’t elaborate, and didn’t intend to.
Greg moved me out of the way and reclaimed his rightful position as master of the mouse. “Then we have two vampires working here. The original vampire, who’s been hunting on the campus for a long time, and your sire, who has just stepped all over his hunting ground tonight.”
“Dam,” I said quietly.
“What’s wrong?” Sabrina asked.
“Nothing, but she’s not a sire. Sires are male. She’s a dam.”
“Like a horse?”
“You know it, missy.” I grinned at her and waggled my eyebrows.
I opened my mouth, probably to put my foot in it with a lame innuendo, but Mike saved me by opening the door to the bedroom and walking out. He’s at least moving under his own power. That’s always good. Abigail followed meekly behind him, apologizing to all of us as she went to the fridge, grabbed the last bag of blood and joined us around the big screen.
“So what’s the plan?” Abigail asked, slurping on the blood. Sabrina looked a little pale, and I reached over with a paper towel and wiped a thin line of blood off the kid’s chin.
“You missed a spot.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You get the technique down over time. For the first few days, though, it’s easier to use a straw.”
“Huh. Never thought of that.”
“Neither did I. Greg came up with it.”
“Easy to see who’s the brains of the operation, huh?” The kid leaned in a little closer than I was comfortable with, and Sabrina kicked me under the table.
“What?” I asked, sitting up straight.
“Oh, nothing.” That woman had an uncanny ability to lower the temperature of a room with just a couple of syllables.
“All right, then. If it’s nothing, then let’s get back to the business at hand. Namely, the sudden increase in the known vampire population of Charlotte,” I said, standing up and starting to pace. “Here’s what we know. First, Abigail here was turned by the same vampire that turned me fifteen years ago in a bar outside Greenville, South Carolina. Second, we know there’s another vampire that’s been turning UNCC students for a lot of years, and has been very discrete about it. So, maybe the vamp that turned me and Abby is working with this local vamp?”
“That doesn’t work,” Sabrina said. “From what you’ve said, the vampire that turned you is anything but discrete. She picked you up from a populated area and took you back to your apartment without any regard for who else might be home, then left you there on the couch.”
I turned away a little at the memory. It wasn’t the best night of my life, waking up dead with my boxers around my ankles while my best friend screamed at my corpse. Then there was the part where I killed him. That was a buzzkill, too.
Sabrina went on. “That, coupled with the way she posed Abigail’s body after she drained her, tells us that she has no compunction against killing and leaving her victims where they could easily be found. There’s no way she’s been in Charlotte all this time without us knowing about it.”
“I agree,” Greg added. “The third thing we know is that we know very little else. She killed Abigail sometime between 11 P.M. and two in the morning, and she could have been anywhere from around the corner to Nashville in the time between committing the murder and sunrise.�
�
“She’s still here,” Abigail said suddenly.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I can feel her. She’s still close.”
“What, like some kind of vampiric radar? Like you’re tied to your sire or something?” Greg asked.
I didn’t bother correcting him this time.
“I dunno,” the girl said. “I just know she’s still close. Like she’s not finished with me.”
“Maybe she mojo’d you before she killed you so you’d know she was close,” Sabrina chimed in.
“Can we stop saying she killed me?” Abigail pleaded. “I’m right here, after all.”
“Just being precise, dear. You are now part of the walking dead, after all.” Sabrina had a snippy tone I’d never heard from her before.
Before the girls escalated things into an all-out catfight, I said, “Why don’t we all just get a little sleep and go back to the crime scene tonight? We should still be able to pick up any scents or clues then, and with decidedly less risk of spontaneous combustion. Besides, I’m sure the humans in the room aren’t the only ones who are starting to drag. Between bowling, fighting a newborn and hijacking an ambulance, it’s been a long night.”
Sabrina started to gather her things to leave. “Good idea, Jimmy. I’ll meet you guys back here around eight tonight. We can figure out where this vamp-factory is hiding out, stake her and then your little sister can be on her merry way.” She pulled on her jacket and holster as I gaped at her.
“Little sister?”
“Well, yeah. After all, you two were made by the same vamp, so doesn’t that make her your sister?” She flashed me a vicious grin and headed up the stairs.
The more I hung out with her, the more confused I was as to exactly which one of us had the fangs.
Greg rolled in his chair a little until she leaned back around the stairs and said, “So what does that make her to you, Greg? Your aunt?”
He fell out of his chair with a thwack, like a side of beef hitting the carpet, kind of wet and fleshy. Mike smiled and followed Sabrina up the stairs.
“If you two comedians are done, I’m going to bed,” I said, heading toward my room.
“Uh, where am I supposed to sleep? Should I have a coffin or something?” Abigail stood in the middle of the den looking confused and a little scared.
“Nah, there’s an air mattress in the coat closet, and the couch pulls out,” Greg said, demonstrating the convertible sofa. “You’ve seen the shape of my room, and Jimmy’s is much, much worse, so trust me when I say this is the safest place for you to sleep.”
“But what if somebody comes in and tries to stake me in my sleep?” She was starting to shake a little, and I felt something I hardly ever felt—sympathy. The first few times I went to sleep I dreamed a lot. And they were all dreams of being alive, which made waking up really rough when I realized I’d never see my mom or dad, or anyone I’d ever known, again. I didn’t envy her the next few nights.
“Okay, look,” I said. “We’ll all camp out in here for the night. It’ll be fine.” I dragged my mattress onto the floor and plopped it down between the stairs and the couch. I went to the coat closet for my shotgun and deposited it on the floor beside the mattress. “There. Now anything coming in the door will have to get through me, and my little friend.” My best Pacino impression was pretty bad, but it got a smile out of her.
Greg dropped his mattress on the other side of the couch, between the den and the kitchen, effectively barricading our guest in the general vicinity of the sofa.
She looked around at the arrangement and settled in on the couch. “Thanks, guys. I’m just a little scared, you know?”
“I know,” Greg answered from the floor. “It’s been a while, but I remember what it’s like to wake up a vampire. It’s a scary thing, but we’re here for you.”
“Just in case,” Abigail said, as I turned off the last of the lights and settled in for a quick snooze, “Can I have a gun?”
“No!” Greg and I shouted in unison.
Chapter 6
I awoke with a tickling sensation under my nose and resisted the urge to sneeze. I shook my head, trying to figure out what it was. I pried one eye open, saw a veil of yellow across my vision and became even more confused. I took a deep breath and stretched, or tried to. I realized that my face was covered in hair, and there was something lying on my arm. A half-second later, I realized that the something was a someone, and exactly who it was.
“Oh, crap,” I whispered, as I sat bolt upright, dumping Abigail off my arm, off the mattress and onto the floor. I looked around the room and saw Sabrina sitting in the armchair drinking a soda and staring at me with eyes full of hurt.
“This isn’t what you’re thinking,” I blurted, trying to disentangle myself from the blankets and the blonde. I eventually stumbled to my feet.
“And what am I thinking, James? Are you suddenly psychic on top of your other gifts? And what business is it of mine if you fall into bed with the first cold body that comes along? After all, I have no claim on you. So what do I care?” Her tone of voice said she was unconcerned and didn’t have a care in the world, but her pounding heartbeat said she was a hair’s breadth away from shooting me in the face.
Greg had woken up at the noise, and in a fuzzy sleep-haze, was looking between Sabrina, me and the blonde lump on the floor that was Abigail. “What’s going on?”
“Shut up,” Sabrina and I said in unison.
“Oh,” Abigail said from the floor. “Sorry. I got scared in the middle of the day and crawled in bed with you. I hope that’s okay.” She stretched, doing that languid movement that only really attractive women can do first thing in the morning, and I just sighed.
I stalked over to Sabrina in my T-shirt and boxers, hair haystacked all over the place like a porcupine on a bender, and pulled her to her feet. I looked the furious detective square in the face and said, “I don’t know exactly what’s going on between us, and I don’t think you do, either. But I know this—you matter to me. You matter more to me than any person has since I’ve been dead, and I will not do anything to screw that up. I don’t have a whole lot going for me. I’m skinny with bad hair and a big nose. I’ve been dead since you were in middle school, and I can’t ever go on long walks in the sunlight with anyone again. I can’t write poetry or play music, and I have dietary restrictions that make veganism look easy. But I am one thing above all else—I am loyal. I don’t have many friends, or whatever we are, in my life, and I will fight past death to keep the ones that I have. So if you’re pissed at me, fine. Be pissed. I earn that a couple dozen times a day. But if you think for one second that I would ever do anything to hurt you, then you better think again, Detective.”
Then I kissed her. I grabbed her face in both my hands and I kissed her like my life depended on it. She stiffened at first, but after a second, she put an arm around me and kissed me back, and it was the greatest feeling I’d had in all the years I’d been dead. After a long minute, she pulled back, and I saw one tear rolling down her right cheek. I reached up with my index finger and wiped it away.
“No more of that.” I pulled her to me for a tight hug. I could have sworn in that moment that I felt some of her warmth leach into me and push away the cold for just a second.
“Well, then,” Sabrina said. “I suppose we’ll talk more later. But we’ve got a few things to do first. One, put some clothes on. We’ve got a crime scene to check out.”
“What’s two?” Greg asked, heading toward his room and a shower.
“Two is this.” Sabrina walked over to Abigail and leaned in very close. She whispered too low for even Greg and me to eavesdrop, but I saw Abigail turn a couple of shades paler as she listened. After a long moment, the dark-haired detective leaned back and looked deep into the blonde vampire’s eyes. Abigail looked back, swallowed deeply and nodded. Just to make things even more surreal, Abigail then threw her arms around Sabrina’s neck and hugged her fiercely before getting t
o her feet and running to the bathroom.
“What was all that?” I asked, as Sabrina came back to my side.
“The facts of life. I don’t think she’s ever had very many girlfriends, so I explained the way the world works.”
“Is that all?”
“That and I told her if I ever found her playing all snuggly with you again that I’d stake her and leave her in the middle of Panthers Stadium to watch the sunrise.” She gave me a little kiss on the cheek, and said, “Now, go get cleaned up. We’ve got work to do.”
A quick shower later, we were back at the big hole on campus. According to Sabrina, she’d gotten a ton of pressure from the upper floors of the Charlotte-Mecklenburg Police Department to release the crime scene so that the city’s latest construction jewel could move forward, but she had managed to buy us one more night to poke around. That meant anything we wanted to collect had to be gathered right now because any trace evidence would be gone come sunrise.
“I don’t get it,” Abigail said, as we got out of Sabrina’s unmarked car at the crime scene. “Weren’t the CSI guys or whatever here already?”
“They were,” I answered. “But we have a few resources they’re lacking.”
“Like what?”
“Like a super-sniffer that knows what it’s looking for,” Greg replied, jumping down into the foundation where the police found Abigail’s body less than twenty-four hours before.
I followed him down the vampire way and grinned a little at Abigail and Sabrina carefully picking their way through the red dirt and rocks.
“You could jump, you know. I’ll catch you,” I yelled up at them.
Sabrina looked up and shot me the finger, while Abigail responded, “You’d enjoy it too much.”
A few minutes later, we congregated in the bottom of the construction site. Greg took Abigail off to one side to give her a lesson on her newly enhanced senses, and to get her away from the place where we had found her corpse, while I started sniffing around the actual crime scene. It took a few moments to separate the scents of diesel fuel, mud and hydraulic fluid, but after I zeroed in on the location where she had been drained, I found the trail almost immediately. The spot was a couple of yards away from where the body had been, and there was just one tiny drop of blood in the dirt to mark it. I stood still, breathing deeply.
The Black Knight Chronicles (Omnibus Edition) Page 41
