Spirit Sanguine

by Lou Harper

  She didn’t move to touch Gabe this time, but the sultry caress of her gaze was nearly tangible. It wasn’t simply for show either; Gabe sensed the vampire’s craving like a warm flush spreading through him. A disconcerting recognition rocked Gabe—he’d felt this before, although in brief flashes, from Harvey. Food for thought.

  Gabe cleared his throat and looked down at his notepad. “Where were you last Friday night?

  She let out a frustrated huff. “For someone so appetizing, you’re no fun at all. That scrawny boyfriend of yours must be keeping you on a tight leash.”

  Gabe, his composure back in place, gave her a stern look.

  She gave in. “Last Friday. That’s easy. I was in New York for the weekend with a friend. So you see I couldn’t have been in Chicago murdering poor Paul. Despite what television would have you believe, we can’t fly or turn into bats.”

  “And this friend of yours can corroborate your alibi?”

  “You sound more and more like a real cop. You better stop, because it’s making me hot and bothered.”

  “Are you always this…on?” Gabe asked incredulously.

  She laughed. “Honey, I was on before I got my fangs, and ever since then, I’ve been on even more.”

  She gave Gabe the name and particulars of her traveling companion and the hotel where they’d stayed, then stood. “You need to scoot now, honey, if you won’t even let me have a nibble. I’m getting peckish.”

  Gabe drove back to pick up Harvey next.

  “How did it go?” Gabe asked, as soon as Harvey got into the car.

  “Better than expected. There was shouting and crying—the first by Ray, the latter by Dill—and a group hug. There will be peace and quiet in the manor for a while.”

  “Till Dill drives himself into a snit again?”

  “He’s been getting better. Slowly.”

  “Stan and Ray must have infinite patience.”

  “Honestly, when they first brought Dill on board I couldn’t fathom what had possessed them. But then I realized they truly love the little idiot, more than he knows. It’s not Dill’s fault he’s so fucked up—his family did a number on him. He’s insecure and has major abandonment issues.”

  “He’ll have to grow up eventually.”

  “He’s working through it. And he’s a sweet kid underneath. How was your date? You smell like lavender.”

  “Jade is a colorful character.”

  “She put the moves on you, didn’t she? I’ll rip her throat out.” Harvey’s tone was jokey, but something flared through Gabe for a split second, and the sensation was only part physical. It moved Gabe to realize Harvey’s feelings for him were deep enough to manifest in such a manner.

  “It’s getting more complex,” he said.

  “What is?”

  “The way I feel you. All of you. At least at close proximity. Like, you’re really jealous of her, aren’t you?”

  “You’re imagining things.”

  “And I could feel her hunger.”

  There it was again but stronger, almost pain.

  “Ah, there it is, I felt that. You have a temper, you know.”

  Harvey stared at him, intrigued. “I have my own issues to work through.”

  Gabe reached out and squeezed Harvey’s knee. “You’re much hotter.”

  “Oh, am I?”

  “Sure. You’d look better in a dress too.”

  “You kinky bastard!” Harvey did his best to sound scandalized, but his eyes sparkled with glee.

  Chapter Seven

  When he’d been a teenager, Gabe had devoured all the Sherlock Holmes mysteries. However, as he’d gotten older, the idea of the sole genius detective who can deduct a case from a speck of mud or fallen cigarette ash started to sound ridiculous, and his reading preferences shifted to police procedurals. Neither was of any help to him now. He was stuck—he had a pile of suspects but no clear motive. Gabe went through the list in his head several times.

  Jade, who knew both of the victims, took the top spot. It was too much of a coincidence. Her alibi had checked out, but it wasn’t exactly airtight. Her friend—a respectable businessman by day—could’ve easily lied. Gabe didn’t discount Harvey’s ex, Frank, either. Harvey ridiculed him for it, saying he was jealous, and Harvey might even have been right about it. Didn’t matter—Frank was the last vamp known to have snacked on Paul. Rico remained on the list too, for similar reasons. There was something slippery about him, and Gabe didn’t trust him for a second.

  Of course, the killer could also have been a random stranger, vampire or not. The only connection between the two victims—aside from Jade—was that they had both liked to party and been regular vampire snacks. The latter part could even have been a coincidence, although Gabe’s instincts told him otherwise. Poring over the police records and his own notes for the umpteenth time got him nowhere.

  He had to drop the whole thing when Augustine requested his services again. It was nothing exciting, Gabe was sent all over town with messages to associates of Augustine. It was like being a messenger boy, but Gabe couldn’t even complain—he was too well paid. So he put on his suit and drove around town delivering black envelopes. Some of the vampires he encountered this way were quite old. He didn’t know how he could tell, but he did. Now that he’d been exposed to many different vamps, his senses were fine-tuning themselves. It was a territory his training with Uncle Miklos hadn’t prepared him for, so he went with instinct.

  He felt utterly stuck in the investigation, but evidently, his little gray cells kept working in the background. The answer jumped out at him on Wednesday, straight out of his dreams. His eyes flew open, and he was wide awake and charged with absolute certainty.

  He tramped out into the living room. Swallowing his irritation over finding Harvey on the sofa again, he shook Harvey awake.

  Harvey blinked at him. “What time is it?”

  “I dunno, around noon. I know who the killer is.”

  He explained his theory point by point.

  Harvey had doubts. “That’s rather circumstantial.”

  Gabe agreed, but his gut told him he was right. He had an idea. “We set up a trap.”

  “How? When? Where?”

  “This Friday at Nightcrawler.”

  “How do you know your killer will be there? Assuming you’re right?”

  “Everyone will be there. We’ll make sure of it. We make it into a celebration.”

  “What’s the occasion?”

  Good question. “Hmm… Ah, I got it! You organize a welcome home party for me.”

  “You’ve been back in Chicago for months,” Harvey pointed out.

  “Yeah, and it’s about time someone threw me a party.”

  Harvey gave in. “Right. Fine, we’ll have a party. Now what?”

  “Well, first of all I need you to stop at the bar, talk to Gustav, make sure he spreads the news. Then you go around, invite people.”

  “Vampire people?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then what?”

  Gabe explained his plan. Harvey argued it wasn’t much of a plan but agreed to go along with it anyway.

  “We can start preparing at dusk,” Harvey mumbled and went back to sleep.

  Harvey and Gabe got to the Nightcrawler early on Friday. It was only them and Gustav there. A bargain bin Welcome Home banner dangled on one wall, along with a few limp balloons. In hindsight, leaving the decorating up to Gustav hadn’t been a good choice. The burly vamp in question motioned them to the far end of the bar and started mixing drinks.

  A minute later, he placed in front of them two glasses filled with red liquid over ice.

  “Try it,” he said, practically glowing.

  Gabe didn’t care for fancy cocktails, brightly colored concoctions with crap floating in them or umbrellas sticking out. Beer or gin and tonic were more to his liking. He took a cautious sip anyway. Alcohol mingled with fruity sweetness, hiding the tartness of Harvey’s tonic. It still lingered as an aftertas
te, but the cranberry juice generously took the blame.

  Gustav loomed over them like an eager and impatient mountain.

  “Ehm…good.” Gabe’s tactful lie didn’t please the burly vamp.

  Harvey made a high-pitched sound that came dangerously close to being a squeak. “It tingles!”

  The dark clouds lifted off Gustav’s broad face, and he grinned like a child on Christmas morning. The look clashed terribly with the rest of him.

  “I had the idea to disguise that ridiculous tonic of yours as something like grenadine. I cooked it down to simple syrup with sugar and added red food coloring. Easy, right? But when I mixed it with vodka, things got interesting. It still won’t get you drunk, but it makes you feel the flavors,” Gustav explained.

  Harvey gaped at him. “That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.”

  He pulled Gustav’s face down and gave the guy a kiss right on the lips. It lasted a second, without tongue, but there was too much skin contact for it to be called a peck. Gabe gave them a dirty look, but nobody paid attention to him. Gabe had never liked Gustav, but now his fingers itched for the stake that wasn’t under his jacket.

  “It’s a mucked-up version of Bay Breeze, and it needs a name—I reckoned you’d want to do the honors,” Gustav said, practically blushing.

  Harvey lifted up the glass, tilting it this way and that. Ice cubes clinked merrily against the glass, and the deep red liquid sloshed around.

  Harvey’s face lit up. “I got it! Sanguine!”

  Gustav nodded and that was that. He and Harvey began to hatch plans for hyping Sanguine. While they were busy conspiring, Gabe carefully checked over the place, knowing trouble could hide in every nook or cranny.

  As patrons filtered in and the bar filled up, the atmosphere gradually became heavy with tension. The regulars showed up first, claiming their usual stools. Then the new people started arriving and disturbing the established ecology of the watering hole. Nightcrawler usually had two or three vamps to a full bar of regular people on a busy night. Perfect hunter-to-prey ratio, Gabe had clinically assessed when he’d first noticed it. However, on this night the number of vampires rose, and they eyed each other testily.

  Gabe began having second thoughts about his own plan but didn’t share them with Harvey, who’d been dubious from the start. He saw many familiar faces, bar regulars, the vampire couple Gabe ran into at his first visit to Nightcrawler, even Joe the boozy Russian.

  Stan and Ray arrived with Dill, darkening Gabe’s mood considerably. As far as Gabe was concerned, Dill was a trouble magnet. All the vamps became attentive the moment Dill stepped into the bar. Seeing the two older vampires with him, they kept a respectful distance but didn’t stop watching him from the corners of their eyes. Stan and Ray had good reason not to let him out of their sights. One of them even went with him to the bathroom. Especially to the bathroom.

  Jade, on the other hand, in her skintight red dress, attracted attention from the regular customers.

  “She stands out, doesn’t she?” Joe practically drooled.

  “Like a ketchup stain on a wedding dress,” Harvey snarked before Gabe could voice his own opinion.

  Aside from Harvey, Rico gave Jade a contemptuous glare too, but then he treated Gabe, Harvey, and the rest of the obviously gay contingent the same. Evidently, vampires could be bigoted too. Rico himself didn’t blend well with the locale either.

  “How did you make him show up?” Gabe asked Harvey.

  “I didn’t. Ray did. I’ve told you, he knows almost everyone in town.”

  Denton’s arrival sent another ripple through the vamps, but not a pleased one. Gabe noticed the repulsed looks and the way Denton snatched his gaze away when it accidentally strayed onto a vamp. The distaste was mutual. So Gabe made sure to make Denton feel extra welcome, wedging Denton between him and Joe by the bar. He ignored the irritated flash in Harvey’s eyes, as much as his own sense of guilt.

  Discreetly, Gabe had a word with Gustav, asking the vamp to look after Denton and make sure nobody messed with him.

  “He ain’t right,” Gustav said in hushed tones.

  “I know, but Augustine would be cross if anything happened to him.”

  “Don’t worry, none of us here want to touch the dead guy, and I’ll make sure nobody else does either.”

  “Thanks, Gustav.” It pained Gabe to be so chummy with the vampire.

  “Right,” Gustav replied and turned away.

  From the sound of it, he had reached the limit of his friendliness too.

  The collection of ill-fitting patrons and Gabe’s discomfort became complete with the arrival of Frank. He’d obviously dressed down for the occasion in jeans and a polo shirt, but even the way he carried himself put him apart. It didn’t appear to bother him at all—the dirty looks simply bounced off him. He greeted Stan and Ray with casual familiarity and ignored most everyone else. Gabe received a congenial nod. Or was it condescending?

  The so-called party lurched along like a creature from a Sam Raimi movie. As the guest of honor, Gabe made some effort at mingling, but it wasn’t his strong suit. He had a curt exchange with Rico, an innuendo-laden one with Jade, and traded painfully civil words with Frank.

  Harvey, on the other hand, flitted around effortlessly, urging everyone to try Sanguine. They did. The vampires showed pleased surprise and kept ordering it, while the regular customers drank it because it was free. Officially, all the Sanguine was on the house for the night. Unofficially, Harvey paid for it, although Gabe knew Harvey got a deep discount. Even Gabe kept swilling the too-sweet stuff as a show of support.

  After disentangling himself from an unwieldy and one-sided conversation about local politics with one of the regular customers, Gabe shuffled back to his own spot by the bar. He found Denton in deep discussion with Joe. As far as he could tell, the topic was cars. Not interested in the subject, Gabe hoisted himself up on a stool and watched Harvey, who was laughing heartily at something Frank had said. As he talked, Frank touched Harvey’s arm several times. The contacts were always brief, yet too intimate. Gabe wished he could stake Frank—if not in the heart, at least in the kidneys.

  Denton bumping into him woke Gabe from his hostile thoughts. Denton apologized, then wandered off in the direction of the bathroom. Gabe waited a couple of minutes before pushing himself off the bar. He casually walked to the short, dark hallway leading to the bathrooms, then past them, out to the alley.

  Denton waited for him, leaning against the brick wall. “I got you alone at last.”

  “So, what’s the verdict?” Gabe asked.

  “You were right. And now you owe me two.”

  Gabe nodded. He put a hand on Denton’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “Stick around for a little longer. I’ll drive you home.”

  “No thanks. It’s past my bedtime. Unless you want to tuck me in.” He arched a studded eyebrow.

  Gabe snatched his hand back.

  “It was a joke. Sheesh. There’s too much tension in the air tonight. Your ghost’s flickering like a bug zapper.” He stared into the empty air beside Gabe, then shook his head and pushed himself off the wall. “I’m off. Smell you later.” He flashed a crooked grin at Gabe and strolled away.

  Gabe ambled back inside alone and straight into a seething Harvey.

  “Where’s your freaky friend?” Harvey’s eyes shot daggers.

  “He left.”

  “Good.”

  “What’s your problem with Denton anyway?”

  “He’s wrong.”

  “Wrong how?”

  “You know how I feel living things more acutely?” Harvey kept his voice down—they stood at the edge of the room, but it wasn’t a big place, and quite full that night.

  “Yeah.”

  “I don’t feel him at all. Gives me the creeps. Plus he has the hots for you.”

  “Who doesn’t?” Gabe tried for flippant, but it didn’t go over well.

  “This party was a bad idea. Everyone’s too keyed up. Go
od thing Sanguine soothes the appetite.”

  “They wouldn’t be so keyed up if Dill wasn’t here. Didn’t you tell Ray to leave him at home, like I asked?”

  “I did, but Ray makes his own decisions. He wanted to reward Dill for being good.”

  “Are you all crazy? The kid is vampire bait. He could ruin everything,” Gabe whispered through gritted teeth.

  A few heads turned in their direction, watching the enfolding argument with varying degrees of interest.

  “Dill’s not a kid, and the guys can keep him safe.”

  “Like they did last time?”

  “That was completely different!”

  “Right. He got kidnapped from a bar. No, wait, he willingly went with his kidnapper.”

  “You know, you’re such a dick sometimes.”

  Gabe huffed himself up. “Unlike your tattooed pirate ex? Or your French snob ex? You spent all night with them.”

  “They’re friends. Do you expect me to dump all my friends for you? And don’t think I didn’t notice you slobbering over everything with boobs, real or not. Are you sure you’re not a closet hetero?” Harvey snarled.

  “You’re not half as funny as you think.”

  “I don’t think I’m funny at all. I think you’d happily fuck anything that moves. I really don’t like you right now.”

  “Then maybe I should go.”

  “Maybe you should.”

  Nightcrawler’s neighborhood was drab but reasonably safe during the day. However, the night wrapped it in an ominous ambiance. Gabe zipped up his jacket and set off on the empty street with unsteady steps. He had a fair bit of walking to do to reach the nearest El station, but he knew he could shorten it by cutting through a nearby business park. By the time he made his way through the vacant parking lot and entered a dimly lit stretch of a footpath, he knew he wasn’t alone. He came to a halt in a sickly splash of light and turned. He grabbed the light post for balance.

  “I know you’re there,” he addressed the darkness.

  He waited. A figure emerged from the shadows.

  “You have good senses.” Joe ambled up and stopped a few feet from Gabe.

  “No, what you mean is sharp senses.”