by Megan Hawke
I lifted my chin. When I realized she was going to buckle a collar around my neck I started to protest. Technically, I already had a collar as part of the dress. Besides, I was a vampire. I might not be able to break the manacles, but I could morph into a bat and be free before she could say "Kneel slave."
A jolt of icy cold flowed through me the second the collar touched my skin. I had less than a second to realize the collar was enchanted. A talisman. All I managed was a gasp and grunt, and Nessa had it buckled tight around my throat.
The collar's effect was instantaneous. All strength flowed out of my limbs. Her hand in my hair was all there was to keep me on my knees. She kicked my feet wide, then stepped back to admire her prize. I tried to morph, but nothing happened.
I was trapped.
"Why?" I asked, barely able to speak.
"You're about to find out," she said, pulling a phone out of her purse. She dialed a number, smiled down at me, and put it to her ear. "Hey, it's Nessa. I got her. Room three."
"Who are you giving me too?"
"No one you want to be given to," she said, and laughed.
"But I'm here to help you, to save you from the killer," I said.
"And who would that killer be?"
"I don't know. Yet," I said.
"Well, you better know something real quick," she said. "You don't have much time." She dropped to her knees before me. She cupped my breasts and started to kiss me. Open mouth. Tongue. Nessa knew what she was about. "If you tell me something I believe will save my life, I'll let you go."
My body was enervated, but my mind was still sharp. What could I tell her to save myself? I just had a vague threat from one of two vampires. Nothing specific.
"There are three vampires in the club, one is the killer," I said.
"Names?"
"Philip Murphy and Gustav Herrman. I think it's Gustav, but can't prove it yet," I said.
"That's only two vampires. You said there were three."
"Oh, well, Roger couldn't possibly kill anyone," I said.
"Roger Rippner? He's a vampire? Really?" she said. "Okay, if you say so. Why do you think Gustav killed them?"
"The way they were tied up, for one," I said.
"Describe them."
I described how each girl was bound and suspended, in detail. Something about Whitney's bondage sparked something in her, but she wouldn't tell me what. She asked specific questions about how the ropes lay, what body parts were bound up and how. If the breasts were bound. Strangely, when I told her about the knife stabbed through Roger's picture at Penny's apartment she found that interesting, and looked as if that confirmed something for her.
"Oh my God, he did it," Nessa said. "He really did it. That sneaky, slimy bastard."
"Who?" I said. I heard footsteps coming down the hall and my heart began to race. Nessa figured out the killer. "Tell me."
"Mmmm, no," she said, and laughed. She forced a rubber ball gag between my teeth. I didn't have the strength to stop her. All I could do was groan as she buckled it behind my head. "I just have to check one thing, then I'm going to Henri and tell him who Whitney's killer is. I will be one lucky girl. Very lucky. I wouldn't be surprised if he Changed me as reward."
"Hhhh!" I cried, and the door opened. Mercedes walked in, with four werewolf goons following in her footsteps. "Uuugghh."
"Hello, Black Heart," Mercedes said, smiling darkly.
"Well, ladies, I'd love to hang around and see what a pound of vamp flesh looks like, but I got things to do, people to please," Nessa said. She looked at Mercedes, "Are you going to kill her?"
"I haven't decided," she said. "But if she lives, she will have a profound understanding of which of us is dominant, and which one does what she is told."
Nessa looked contemptuously down at me. "Good. I am going to ask Henri to give me her sister. I've always wanted Sabrina to submit to me."
And then Nessa was gone, and the door closed.
"Are you ready to have some fun, boys?"
"Yes!" they said.
I sucked in a deep breath, smelling their needs and desires. Dark desires, but very sexual. Needless to say, despite my dire circumstances, I became aroused.
Mercedes dragged me to my feet by my hair. Then two of her goons each grabbed an arm.
"Not so smug now, are we?" Mercedes said. She slammed a fist into my belly. The angry alpha werewolf spent the better part of ten minutes pounding my stomach, breasts and face with her fists, elbows, knees, and feet. Long and hard enough for her to work up a sweat. "No, not so smug."
I couldn't answer or speak at all, not with that ball gag buckled in place. I wanted to tell her that Nessa knew who the killer was. Tell her that Nessa was in grave danger. Not sure why I wanted to protect Nessa after she betrayed me.
Considering how angry the Trudeau Pack was with me, I thought the men would line up behind Mercedes to take their turn pounding my body. Nope. Once Mercedes was satisfied with the pain she'd inflicted, they moved me to the center of the room.
A rope was tied to the manacles, and ran up through a ring in the ceiling. They pulled that tighter and tighter, until I was bent over horizontal to the floor, arms straight up. My legs were straight, knees locked, feet barely touching the floor and trying to ease the pressure off my shoulders.
"Comfy?" Mercedes said. "I guess you didn't know Nessa was also a Trudeau minion. Shame. That would've been good info to have. Could've saved you a lot of pain and humiliation. Well...delayed it, anyway."
"Uuuugggh," I screamed.
Once my body recovered from Mercedes' beating, I became more pissed than scared. That petty bitch was interfering with my hunt. Finding out that Nessa was one of them just ticked me off even more.
I tried to kick her, but that sent me to swinging by my wrists. For a second I thought my shoulders would separate. The pain was incredible. It was a stupid thing to do. I forgot I had no strength in my limbs due to that damned talisman.
"I've meted out a bit of pain. There will be more, my undead punching bag, but I think it time for a little pain and humiliation," Mercedes said. She walked toward a wall display of various whips. "Pull her dress up as high as possible, boys."
That red and black latex dress was promptly hiked up over my hips. Then another yank got it just under my breasts. A little extra effort and they got it above my boobs, and left it wadded up there.
Mercedes didn't return with a cat-o-nines. Oh no. She walked back over to me while snapping a bullwhip menacingly. Just the thought of a bullwhip sent a chill up my spine. Hearing her snap it expertly almost made me pee myself.
Thwack!
"Uuugggghhhh!" I screamed as my lower back lit up on fire.
Thwack!
"Uuuuuggggghhh!"
Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!
My bladder empted. White hot pain burned from my knees to my shoulders. She laughed, brought it across my rump, and down and up across my naked boobs.
Thwack! Thwack!
"Uuuuuuuuuggggh! Uuugggh! Mmmmuuuuuuuuuuugggh!"
One might say, buck-up. You are undead. You, missy, are a vampire. What is a little whipping? Your body heals at an extraordinarily rate. By the time the pain registered in my mind the injury of a mere whip was halfway healed. Ah, but the pain of that whipping radiated through my body, and then lingered.
A mortal would pass out after a short while. Whip a mortal too long, too brutally, and he will die. I don't think people understand how quickly a person can be killed by a severe whipping. But not a vampire. No, I healed so fast that I was allowed to stay conscious, to stay alive, to endure many long hours of whipping.
I don't know how long Mercedes whipped me. I do know not a single square inch of naked flesh was spared her attention. Not even my face. And it takes a long time to wear out an alpha werewolf.
"Whew!" Mercedes said, dropping the whip. "I haven't had that much fun since we caught Chucky cheating the boss."
"Now what, Mercy?" one said.
"I don't c
are," she said. "Fuck her if you want. When you're finished, run her up a flagpole and let the sun have her."
The painted over window exploded in at that moment.
"Wrong answer!" Roger cried.
A second later he ripped the ring I was bound to out of the ceiling, picked me up and jumped back out the window. His wings came out, and we beat a hasty retreat into the night sky. The eastern horizon was beginning to lighten up. It was cloudy with a light drizzle, so there would be no direct sunshine before we reached his house.
"You saved my life," I said when he finally removed that damned ball gag.
Mercedes had tortured me half the night. Felt more like years.
"Well," he said. "You've saved mine before."
"The collar around my throat is sucking my strength away," I said. "Can you get it off? I could fly myself then."
"No. I might lose my strength if I touch it. I'll take it off when we get home."
Roger's garage door was open. I could see his gray Mustang parked there. There was a silver Toyota Camry parked in front of his house, also. I wondered where it came from. Never saw it before. But before I could ask about it Roger carried me inside. The garage door closed behind us.
His little three bedroom, two bath brick home was the perfect vampire home. Popular myth said vampires were either wildly wealthy, or lived in graveyards. No one suspected vampires lived in the burbs.
Roger finally set me down in the middle of the living room, and quickly freed me of all my bindings. Everyone said he was fast, and he proved it there. It was good to be free and able to move.
First thing, I saw Roger's phone on the coffee table. I picked it up and called Dane. I told him what happened, and set him, Kale, Sabrina, and Desiree the task of finding Nessa. Find her alive.
I had some of Roger's expensive human blood. That does an undead body good. Then we retired to the bedroom. For the first time ever, we did nothing but sleep the day away. Neither one of us was in the mood.
If word gets out, we'll have to turn in our fangs.
Chapter 14
"Do you have cow blood? Pig blood? Anything but human blood?" I said. "Right now I'd take monkey blood."
"What's wrong with human blood?" Roger asked. "Don't you like it?"
"I like it too much," I said. "With all the killings lately, I'm feeling a bit guilty enjoying it so much."
"I know," he said quietly.
"I guess not," I said, punching a straw into the black bag of human blood. It was fresh from the refrigerator. Cold blood didn't taste as good, but I didn't want to enjoy it too much. I just needed nourishment. Nothing nourished vamps better than human blood. "Where's your phone? Do you have a landline?"
"No."
I paused to take a deep breath. I'd only been awake five minutes and I was stressing out. No one bothered to call me with the results of their search for Nessa. Or I slept through the phone ringing.
"Can I borrow your phone again?"
"Where is yours?"
That stopped me. Were we on the same planet?
"You snatched me out of The Crimson Knot, where I was being kept prisoner while werewolves tortured me," I said, and he rolled his eyes. "Do you see a cell phone on me?"
"Don't go postal on me," Roger said.
Pointing my finger in his face, I said, "Don't tell me not to go postal. I am fine."
"You are definitely not fine," Roger said.
"No I'm not, which is a better reason not to piss me off," I said. He handed me his smartphone. Didn't even look me in the eye. "Thank you, Roger. I'm sorry I snapped at you."
I wasn't really sorry, but I didn't need Roger freaking out on me. I looked at the phone. It was off.
"So, do you always turn off your phone?"
"Yes," he said. "I don't like being disturbed during the day."
He gave me the most innocent look. How could anyone be that clueless? I just turned the phone on. Yelling at him wouldn't do any good. Well, I'd feel better afterwards, but not Roger. I reminded myself that he saved my life, and then I dialed Dane's number.
"Hello? Is this Roger or Sable?" Dane said.
"Sable. What's going on? Did you find Nessa?"
He paused a long moment. "Yes."
"Good!"
"No, not good," he said. "She was found behind The Crimson Knot. Dead."
"Drained of blood?"
"I don't know. I just got the call fifteen minutes ago," Dane said. "I'm heading over there now."
"Swing by and pick me up," I said. I gave him directions to Roger's house.
"I'll be there in less than five," he said, and hung up.
"They found Nessa? Dead?" Roger said, and walked away from me. I could hear his heart pounding. "Just me and Sabrina left."
"Maybe you should call off work tonight," I said. "You might want to take the rest of the weekend off, too."
"No, I can't do that. I'd lose my job," he said. "I can't lose my job."
"You have a lot of money. You'll survive," I said.
"No, not enough. Not enough," he said. "I need my job. It makes me normal. Do you know how hard it is to find a job that will let you interview at night?"
All I could figure was he identified with his job. He was his job. So many people were that way. I never expected a vampire to be like that.
"That's Dane," I said. He was cruising down the street slowly, looking for Roger's address in the dark. "I have to go. I'll you call later."
"I'll need my phone back," he said.
"Sorry," I said. I kissed him and left the phone on the coffee table. "Bye-bye, babe."
Dane was stopped in the street. Heidi was half out of the Jeep when I came out. She pulled the seat forward and indicated I should get in the back.
"I don't like riding in back," I said.
"Neither do I," she said.
Heidi wore dark blue designer jeans, white tank, and baby blue leather jacket, with a pair of red patent pumps. Her outfit was remarkable in that even as a mortal she rarely dressed so normal, or in her vernacular, "dressed down." Of course, she was a vampire, so even dressed down she dressed sexy.
"Why did you bring Heidi?" I said to Dane.
"You ever try saying no to a vampire?"
I crawled in the back. I had to pick my battles with Heidi. Using my power over her was wrong, yet she tempted me so. Heidi seemed to be testing me, seeing how much I would put up with. We were going to have a long talk once things simmered down.
"What do we know?"
"Only that Vanessa Wicker is dead," Heidi said. "She was killed last night and dumped behind the club."
"What happened at the club last night?" Dane said.
"Bad things," I said. "Mercedes."
We rode in silence the rest of the way. At least the rain had stopped. There were a lot of police cars there when we arrived. I could feel people upstairs in the club. Maybe a dozen. They were all subdued. Uniformed cops stood at the entrance.
Detective Morris and Sergeant Longhouse were there almost before I got out of the Jeep. Longhouse seemed relieved to see us, while Morris looked me up and down with disapproval.
"Just get out of Church, Sable," Morris said.
Did he have something against tight latex?
"Is it Sunday?"
"If the pleasantries are over with, can we get this over with?" Longhouse said. He glanced up. "It could start raining at any time. I'm a desk cop now. I like dry."
We went through Isabella's boutique, Isabella's Sins. I was grateful we didn't have to walk all the way around. Nessa still lay where the boutique's sales girl found her, behind the dumpster. Her body was the most abused, most damaged I'd seen. I wouldn't have believed it was the same killer except for the red ropes binding her body so tightly.
Nessa was bound in a modified hogtie. Her face was severely damaged and abraded, and there was blood splattered on the concrete block wall behind the dumpster, on the back of the dumpster and on the ground below and around her body. Not much, but enough I could
smell it.
"Was she drained of blood?"
"Yes," Morris said. "Raped and drained of blood, just like the others. No bite marks, but she does have the needle marks on her neck."
"But she wasn't suspended. Not here anyway," Longhouse said.
"Was she killed here?" Dane said.
"No," Morris said.
"Are you sure it is the same killer?" I said.
"No," he said. "We won't know for sure until we get the DNA."
"If she wasn't killed here, then why all the blood?" I asked.
"Her body was thrown from the roof," Morris said. He pointed up at the top of the building. "The crime scene boys think the amount of blood and splatter is consistent with a fall from that height of a corpse with little blood left."
We all turned and looked up. There were five people up there. I couldn't see them, but I could hear and sense them. They were calm. Probably cops.
There was about twenty feet between the back of the building and the concrete wall. The dumpster was maybe three feet from the wall. As good a place to dump a body as any. It was probably a fluke the sales girl found her so fast.
Something about the whole thing bothered me.
I crossed the alley, and leapt straight up. Morris cried out, "Holy shit!"
Anderson from the Penny Degge crime scene was up there. He cried out, "Jesus!" and fell straight back on the rocky roof top. Seconds later five pistols were pointed at me.
"That'll really piss me off if you shoot me," I said.
"Stupid fucking vampire," Anderson grumbled under his breath.
"I heard that," I said, and grinned at him. "And I'm not stupid. Merely foolish."
There were no scents of Nessa or anyone other than the cops up there. No sign anyone had been up there in weeks, or months. I looked over the edge, down at the dumpster and crime scene.
"Officer Anderson, a word please," I said, motioning him over.
"Detective Anderson," he said.
"Sorry, Detective," I said. Indicating the dumpster. "Can you see the body from here?"
"Of course not," he said.
"Why not?"
"Well, besides being dark, she's behind the dumpster."
"Exactly," I said. "If she'd been thrown from up here, her body would've hit the dumpster, or bounced off the wall. Or both. The blood and splatter would be all different, don't you think?"
