The Murder King’s Woman
Jamie Leigh Hansen
“Ninety-nine veins of blood to tap,
Ninety-nine veins of bloood . . .
Pick the best flavour and drain it dry.
There’ll be ninety-eight veins of blood to try.”
Sasha sashayed her curvy human body across the busy foyer of the San Francisco Vamp Palace, her booted steps in sync with the rousing chorus of vamps in the next room, her jaunty nurse’s cap bobbing with the tune. Grasping hold of the song, she continued the refrain silently as she pushed the empty black wheelchair through the crowd of costumed, but deadly, vampires.
She wore a traditional white nurse’s dress, with the neckline cut low to the thick, black belt on her waist. A bright-red Wonderbra pushed everything she had out and up in a bountiful display. The skirt stretched high on her thighs, leaving a few inches of skin bare to the tops of her thigh-high black boots. With her vivid, glossy make-up and her latex-gloved hands, her costume was perfect.
Sasha pushed the wheelchair to the elevator behind the grand staircase. A Bela Lugosi lookalike cast lascivious glances all down her body as a Queen Elizabeth smiled at her with condescending indulgence. Contrary to modern myth, vampires loved Halloween. It was the one night a year they could let their fangs hang out. Though, tonight, their fangs were a bit sharper than usual.
Smiling vacuously, her mind only shielded with the most basic of barriers expected from an average mortal like her, Sasha continued to sing silently. Ninety-eight veins of blood to tap . . .
Sasha entered the elevator, pushed the button for the fourth floor, and gripped the wheelchair handles tight. She smiled, wide and excited, for any who glanced her way. Ninety-five veins of blood to tap . . .
The elevator doors slid open to reveal a long, darkly panelled hallway with doors on either side. Some were open, some weren’t. At one, a beautiful ice-blonde in a dress Cinderella would envy smiled teasingly at a dashing, kilted Scotsman. Her voice was a smooth purr. “You can look under mine if you let me look under yours.”
He chuckled, his voice low as he leaned forwards and opened the door behind her. “Only look?”
Sasha’s smile came easier as she passed them, the chair rolling quietly along the deep red carpet. Eighty-nine veins of blood to tap, eighty-nine veins of bloood . . .
At the end of the hall, between two closed doors where the wall only appeared to be a smooth mural, she deftly swiped a card through the nearly hidden slot. The hallway was silent for the moment, but the pounding of a human heart would carry easily through the walls and into the many bedrooms. She only had seconds before someone would come to see why hers pounded.
Adding even more joy to the refrain in her head, she slipped into the secret hallway, its walls thick enough to hide almost anything thought or spoken, and pushed the chair down the narrow tunnel. Halting outside the guard room, she parked the chair and stepped into the opening, leaning against the door frame in a seductive pose.
There was only one guard, sitting with his feet propped up and staring morosely at the monitors. He glanced back at her then did a swift double-take, nearly falling off his chair. Sasha grinned wickedly. “I heard you were hungry.”
As he stood, the light hit his name tag. Stan. Stan took his time, gazing from the pulse in her neck, down her exposed cleavage and lower, to the inches of thigh exposed between her skirt and boots. In less than a blink, he stood before her, taller, faster, stronger.
Sasha shivered.
Stan wrapped his large hands around her sides and grinned with anticipation.
Pick the best flavour and drain it dry.
Stan groaned, “Oh, yeah.”
There was a reason the little ditty was popular among vampires. Stan leaned forwards and licked a trail from the curve of one breast to her neck, meaning to tease her.
Instead, Sasha held him as he slid silently to the floor. Any of her personal taste he’d managed to pick up would be disguised by the knock-out gel she’d smeared all over her skin. It left a brutal aftertaste.
From one of the large front pockets of her dress, Sasha pulled a flash drive and plugged it into the computer tower. Three key strokes and Enter executed the desired file upload. The monitors and hard drive were busy recording an old episode of Buffy when she left the room.
Eighty-five veins of blood to tap . . .
Eighty-five veins of blood . . .
Only intense practice kept her focused as she pushed the wheelchair into the next room and saw the once healthy and robust vampire lying there. The bed holding him was more like an incubator, enclosed with glass and bright UV heat lamps shining directly on his skin. He wouldn’t burst into flames from this false sun, but he was burned a deep red from head to toe. Tainted blood flowed through an IV into his right arm, while the blood he’d filtered through his ancient system flowed from an IV in his left thigh, to be used in other ways later.
A small, horrified moan passed her lips and she stiffened. If she broke her mental block now, she’d never have the calm concentration to get it back.
Eighty-three veins of blood to tap . . .
Her movements trained to smooth efficiency, deep breaths keeping her heartbeat slow and regular despite the strain, Sasha set the brakes on the wheelchair and opened the “legs” to give her room to seat him. Then she lifted the clear lid and removed the tainted IV from his emaciated arm and thigh.
From the backpack hanging on the back of the wheelchair, she pulled a bundle of clothes and a bag of fresh blood. She attached the blood bag to a new IV to begin feeding him immediately. Pulling him into a sitting position, she managed to snap a hospital gown on him and belt a large, fluffy bathrobe around him. He wasn’t his regular weight, though still tall and bulky, or she couldn’t have manoeuvred him so easily. By now his eyes were blinking and he was trying to steady himself so he wouldn’t hamper her further. His small amount of balance helped when it was time to swing him into the chair.
Gently, Sasha placed the bag of blood in a discreet pocket she’d sewn to the inside of his robe. Slippers and a thin cashmere blanket covered his skin from the toes up. She tucked the blanket snug around his legs and inside the legs of the wheelchair so nothing trailed to catch in the wheels. The sleeves of the robe bunched over his clasped hands, where they rested in his lap.
Moving even more quickly now, Sasha powdered his face to transform his skin from the quickly healing UV burn to a sickly white-yellow. Then she turned his blue eyes brown with contacts and wrapped a scarf around his neck. Almost done. A yellow hospital mask, a dark brown curly wig to hide his straight black hair, plus a cap to hold the wig in place, and he was ready.
She didn’t have much time and the urgency to leave warred inside her with the necessity of his disguise. To push the wheelchair, she’d be standing behind him, unable to shield him by drawing all gazes to her body. No, with him in front, he would need a costume no one would want to stare at. This was as close as they had time for.
Twenty-nine veins of blood to tap . . .
Sasha pulled two canisters from the bag. Five seconds after being set, the canisters would release a gassy burst of ammonia and bleach in the tightly sealed room, filling the air and erasing any traceable scent. She set the first one on the bed he’d been in, the metal of the can clicking against the frame. Rushing, she pushed the wheelchair to the guard’s office and released the second canister. Holding tight to the handles of his chair, she ran down the tunnel to the hallway exit.
One deep breath to slow her heart, and they flowed out from behind the hidden wall, quick and brazen, as if they’d exited the room next to it. Behind her, the trick wall slid shut and a part of her eased. So far, none of the vampires moving in and out of the rooms in the hallway had paid them any attention, but her heart was beating too fast for a fun little song to explain. Seamlessly, Sasha switched her thoughts to a vampire movie she’d watched, in which a seemingly sick vampire chased his sexy nurse around the hospital room. Only, in her m
ind, she was the teasing nurse evading an easy capture. And her patient was no longer in a wheelchair.
The imagined chase made her heart beat faster, nearly bringing life to the heart of her vampire patient as he followed her around the bed and pushed her to the mattress. Her belt popped open, displaying her from her vulnerable throat, two tiny spots dripping blood, to her bright red I-Wonder-How-It-Holds-’Em-In bra. She landed with her thighs spread, exposing the matching red panties under her skirt.
At least two of the male vampires in the hallway glanced her way because of that image, their eyes burning red at the centres while their fangs pressed against their lips. Sasha bit her lip coyly and thrust out her chest and she played the fantasy further, focusing their attention on her.
At the elevator, Sasha pushed the chair into the corner, pressed the down button and planted herself in front of the wheelchair while they waited for the elevator to arrive on their floor. When the doors slid open, she froze, her mind going blank as she stared into the sharp eyes of the Master of San Francisco. David. He did not look happy. In fact, he looked a bit panicked.
Sasha looked his tall frame over, her mind still empty of thought. When his gaze swerved from her to the chair behind her, she licked her lips. Imagining flesh and sweat and blood, anything to recapture his attention. David’s gaze snapped back to hers, his look considering, then all too interested. He arched forwards, exiting the elevator.
With wide eyes, Sasha glanced to the man at David’s side. His second-in-command, Alexander. He was also tall and well formed, thick veins branching down his forearms and over his hands. He looked at David and in her mind she exaggerated his expression. A touch heavy on the possessiveness, more than a touch to see a spark of lust for David.
David jerked, his attention snapping to his second as he followed from the elevator. David set a startled, analytical gaze on Alexander as his second frowned in confusion.
Sasha stepped past them, pushing the wheelchair inside the elevator then turning and pushing the button for the lowest level. With nothing between her and the Master but her imagination, Sasha pictured both of the men bare, tanned and wrapped around each other. Posing for her.
Both David and Alexander stared at her with wide eyes, both aroused and nearly comically shocked at her vivid mind. In the second it took for the doors to slide closed, Sasha projected one final thought.
If Alexander were on top, would he take advantage of the power exchange?
David snarled at his second-in-command while Alexander tried to look innocent.
The doors clicked shut and Sasha turned the wheelchair, tugging down the mask to examine her vampire’s healing skin. Familiar eyes, despite the brown contacts, twinkled up at her and his lip tugged up slightly at the corner. In the depths of her mind she heard his whisper.
Diabolical.
Sasha replaced the mask, her lips twitching at his praise. Circling behind the chair, she began a new fantasy for those who might listen, this one in the maze hedge at the back of the grounds. The leaves were dark and dense, turning the night from the darkest of blue to an inescapable pitch black. Perfect for the predator vs. prey game her fantasy master loved.
This is a side of you I’ve never known.
And he knew nearly all of her. Sasha grimaced. All except the grown woman struggling for freedom inside her. The woman with her own needs and desires. Sasha changed the course of her thoughts as her heartbeat slowed during the elevator ride, even her breathing sedate and regular by the time the doors slid open.
Twenty-eight veins of blood to tap . . .
Sasha opened the door to the guest parking area. Rolling him to her SUV, Sasha aided him inside and loaded the wheelchair in the back, to be sterilized later. Taking her place behind the wheel, she pulled out and drove down the long, tree-shrouded driveway. Her watch beeped its notice. Five minutes. The rescue was on schedule. She needed to hurry a bit, but nothing obvious.
Flipping on the radio, she hummed the words, picturing the stories the songs told. Soon, she passed the guards at the end of the drive, giving them a jaunty wave goodbye as she did, and upped her speed just understandably past the limit. With one hand, she reached into the console between them and handed him another bag of blood.
He pulled off his hospital mask and pierced the plastic with his fangs, too starved to care that it was lukewarm. He took out the contacts, dropping them in the garbage sack she handed him. The empty bags and IV followed.
Singing louder, Sasha unpinned the nurse’s hat and shook out her hair, then released the belt and unbuttoned the nurse’s dress. Before it was fully off, she pulled on a loose, scoop-neck blouse. Changing was a trick while driving, but doable. It would be wonderful if she could give him her wrist and let him feed while she drove, but passing out at the wheel would be bad. Besides, she would give him fresh blood as soon as she could wash away all the knock-out gel coating her skin. It was the least she could do. This whole evening was the least she could do. She owed him her life.
He covered her hand with his and his voice was deep and raw. “Not any more.”
“Always.”
Ten minutes until dawn. It was a huge risk, but the only way this could have worked. Vamps weren’t locked in sleep at dawn, but they would have to stay inside, well away from any light. She looked to the side. All of them have to take these precautions – including her vamp.
A few miles down the road, she pulled into a parking garage. Up and up, she drove to the top end, to a dark, lonely area that few people preferred. She backed into the parking spot so the passenger side of the SUV was near the passenger side of a blue Dodge half-ton.
Sasha parked and left the keys in the ignition. As she exited the SUV, she pulled out a long, flowing wrap-around and tied it at her waist. Taking the key from its hidden spot under the truck, she unlocked the doors and exposed the truth of the extended cab. The back seats had been removed, allowing a long, deep, light-proof box to fit snuggly behind the front seats. The box’s camouflaged top made it appear to be a set of large speakers.
Love Bites UK (Mammoth Book Of Vampire Romance2) Page 29
