Black Market Blood (The Lazarus Hunter Series Book 2)

by Cas Martin

  ‘Does that mean you have something?’ Monica looked hopeful and Elizabeth felt bad for giving her a sense of false optimism.

  ‘Only very tentative references. They may mean nothing. You might see something I don’t.’

  ‘My driver is available all night. I had no idea how long it was going to take.’

  ‘Great. We can talk more openly at my place than we can here anyway.’ Elizabeth checked her watch. ‘And to be honest, I’d like to be around when you get the report from your mad scientist.’

  15

  Jet stood alone in the bar, her back against the wall. It smelled strange. Neutral, like the place itself was. Far from the only vampire in here, she recognised her kind scattered around the room. The Gold Bar was a popular spot to have fun and unwind, if you were of a certain age. This was her fourth sober visit, but she was yet to relax. Back in her homeland, there was no such thing as neutral territory. Families did not mix. Lines were clearly drawn and although she was often on the wrong side of them, they still made sense. Here, in addition to humans, there were vampires of many other families, all being civil. Some even appeared friendly. Yet cross into their territory on the open street and they would rip you apart.

  America was a strange place, she decided.

  As a man she had seen there on a previous visit walked up to say hi, Jet reminded herself she wasn’t here to make friends. It was all business. She’d watched for long enough. It was time to make her move. She flexed her hands, feeling the sweat on her palms. If she played it wrong, there would be hell to pay.

  ‘Hi.’ He placed himself next to her, also leaning against the wall for support. He was vampire alright, but she could tell he wasn’t from her family. His features belonged to those separated from her part of the world long ago.

  ‘Hi.’

  ‘This is the second time I’ve seen you here, all alone.’ He wasn’t American, but she couldn’t place his accent. Perhaps it was a deliberate move on his part.

  ‘I thought I would see what it was like. A friend recommended it to me.’

  ‘Your friend has good taste. This is one of the best places for people like us to come when we’re in town. How long are you staying for?’

  ‘A few months,’ she lied, aware now that her accent had given her away. Either that or he had already made subtle enquiries about her. That thought worried her more.

  ‘Business or pleasure?’

  ‘Business.’ This was not so much of a lie.

  ‘Well I hope New York is treating you well. Perhaps I should offer to show you the sights.’

  ‘Perhaps. Or perhaps we should stick to business.’

  ‘It’s the weekend. Who wants to do business at the weekend?’

  ‘Weekends don’t matter so much to me.’ Jet took a sip of her drink and took a longer look at the stranger. The relaxed slope of his shoulders was forced. He had come to her, but perhaps he was less confident in his status than he was pretending to be.

  ‘So what do you have to offer that’s so important you think it’s worth working for every day?’

  ‘Blood,’ she replied simply. Jet stared straight ahead as she tried to conceal her fear.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Blood. All kinds. The very best quality.’

  ‘Are you being serious?’

  ‘Yes.’ Jet felt unsettled. The man seemed to be laughing at her. What was more serious to their kind than the subject of blood? Especially when it was important enough to stockpile in vast quantities.

  Volumes so huge that she was confident no one would notice if it began to go missing.

  ‘I know you’re fresh off the boat, but you have to realise that getting blood is not a problem here. Free blood, at that.’

  ‘Yes,’ she persisted, ‘but is it the very best quality blood?’

  ‘The very best?’ his humour changed to confusion. ‘What has that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Don’t you want the very best blood, rather than what is on offer here? I will give you a very reasonable price.’ Jet tried her best to remain calm and professional. She was almost sure she wasn’t crossing any rules of etiquette here but, should the transaction go ahead, she was still stealing from her employer.

  The employer who was also her leader, the one with ultimate power over her life and death.

  ‘I’m sure you would give me a good price, but why should I pay at all for something I can get for free?’ He held up his hand to stop her from interrupting. ‘I don’t know what the situation is wherever you come from. But here, we don’t struggle for blood. So it might not be A Rated, but who needs to eat steak every night?’ He shrugged and took another pull on his beer.

  ‘So you don’t need to buy any? Perhaps to make sure you have your own, very good supply?’

  ‘I don’t. And no one else in here will either.’ He looked at her hard and pushed himself off against the wall. Something had changed. She had done something wrong. ‘Do yourself a favour. Take whatever scam you’re trying to pull and take it elsewhere. This is a good place. Fun. People come here to get away from it all, not to play politics. We don’t want any trouble.’

  ‘I’m not trying to cause trouble.’

  ‘You could have fooled me. So either drink up and have a good time, or get the hell out of here. Other people won’t be as kind to you as I’m being.’

  ‘I’ll go.’ Jet wasn’t sure how she’d misread the situation so entirely, but the man was serious. He didn’t need to buy blood from her and if he was right, then neither did anyone else. So if the blood in the room was so easy, why was she crossing the floor from pallet to freezer all day, every day?

  As she walked to the door, she looked back one last time to survey the room. The man had been right about one thing. No one there had a care in the world. They didn’t need her blood.

  But just because they didn’t know it yet, didn’t mean that it wasn’t the truth.

  16

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘Not a bad office, huh?’ Elizabeth watched as Monica looked around the room. As far as she knew, no vampire had ever set foot in her father’s study, except to rob him and take the things that mattered most to him. Then kill him. She chose to put that out of her mind. This was an entirely different situation.

  ‘It’s an honour to be here.’

  ‘I presume you mean because of my father and not because of me,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Please, take a seat.’ She pointed to a large leather sofa in front of the fireplace. Wood stacked in a wicker basket, ready for when autumn came. It was extravagant, and a hassle compared to flicking a switch, but it had its own special appeal. ‘I’ve been using the room as my study now. Not for the same purposes of course, but for tonight I guess that could change.’

  ‘I really appreciate you doing this.’ Monica sat back and made herself comfortable.

  ‘That’s okay. You’ve saved my life. I owe you this.’

  ‘Let’s not forget that you saved mine as well.’

  ‘Can we not talk about that? Not yet.’ Another closed door she would need time to reopen.

  ‘Whatever you want. Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.’ Monica looked horrified again and Elizabeth felt instant remorse. That night had been on both of them. It was unfair to make Monica feel as though she was the only guilty party in the room.

  ‘It’s not that, it’s just…I don’t know.’ She couldn’t articulate the sensations that arose with the memory. Seeing Monica made the scar feel as fresh and raw as when the bite happened.

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Monica looked genuinely upset.

  ‘That’s okay. I’m making too big a deal about it. It’s my own fault for refusing to think about it for so long.’

  ‘We should have talked about it properly back then. It would have made it easier now.’

  ‘Would it?’

  ‘I should never have let it happen. I should never have given in.’

  ‘It was that or die. I wouldn’t change that. I would rather know that you were he
re. Alive. We can’t change the past.’

  ‘Okay. We’ll stop talking about it then.’

  ‘Good.’ Elizabeth’s phone vibrated. ‘Oh, I’ve got an email. From Garth.’

  ‘What does it say?’

  ‘It’s only two lines. Think I may have a lead. Word on the street is it’s in the blood. Does that mean anything to you?’

  ‘No, but there’s only one thing that it could mean. Somehow people have been drinking infected blood.’

  ‘I checked the WHO database earlier. There are no epidemic concerns right now I could link to this.’

  ‘I don’t know what else it could refer to. I’ll hear from Harlan soon. But if Garth is right then we have a huge problem. Unless we can see someone is carrying the infection, there is no way of knowing whether or not to feed. Without feeding we die. It’s a catch-22. Sorry for being so blunt.’

  ‘I guess I’m going to have to get used to having these kinds of conversations again.’

  ‘How do you feel about that?’ A gentle buzz from Monica’s phone distracted them both before she could answer. A gentle nod said it was the email they were waiting for. She watched as Monica scrolled up and down the message, reading it a few times first.

  ‘Do you want to read this too?’

  ‘Sure.’ Elizabeth walked over and sat next to her. She read the mail over Monica’s shoulder.

  Hi Monica,

  Firstly, please let me apologise for the delay in getting this information to you. This process has been trickier than I had anticipated. However, there has been a degree of success.

  The blood you sent to me for testing showed clear signs of infection. I would like, if possible, for you to send me a human sample of a suspected individual, so I can compare the two. Any differences in presentation would greatly move things forwards.

  Unfortunately, despite being able to isolate this pathogen, I’ve yet to identify it. This concerns me. I might not be a subject matter expert, but I have access to a complete database of diseases that are comparable to this.

  I can, however, report that this is the most likely cause of death once it is contracted. It destroys certain cells in the blood stream, making it impossible to utilise the specific nutrient carrying mechanism that we have. Once established in the host, there is little to no chance of being able to eradicate it naturally.

  My current working hypothesis is that due to the differences in human blood, this pathogen can live in the system without fully being able to establish itself. It is my belief that this is why the human population as a whole has yet to present any signs of disease.

  As I currently have nothing to compare it to, I cannot verify the mechanism or identify a potential route for a cure. Obviously, I will continue working until I do.

  If possible, could you please send me, where available:

  1) Human blood showing the same infection.

  2) Another blood sample of the type you originally sent in order to do a comparison (I am currently using my own blood as a control).

  Apologies once again for the delay, and I hope to bring you more positive information soon.

  Regards, Harlan.

  ‘I guess Garth was right,’ muttered Elizabeth.

  ‘At least now we know where to start looking. I’ll order the samples he’s requested to be couriered over as soon as possible. Anything that will help him.’

  ‘I guess he didn’t rule out the possibility of there being a cure. That would have been much worse.’

  ‘True, but he doesn’t sound like he knows where to look for one either.’

  ‘Try to be positive. It sounds like he’s been working hard on this. Think about how long it takes whenever there’s a new outbreak of any disease. That’s with limitless amounts of money and facilities to throw at it. They probably have hundreds of people. Harlan’s just one man working flat out. Already it’s pretty impressive.’

  ‘I suppose you’re right. I’m just frustrated. If it sits in the blood for a while before it becomes obvious you’re infected, then it’s a time bomb waiting to go off. My entire family could already be infected. How can I protect them against something I can’t see?’

  Elizabeth didn’t know what to do. She wanted to comfort her, but there was very little she could say. Monica needed answers, not empty platitudes. ‘Do you want coffee? Or something stronger?’

  ‘What do you have?’

  ‘I’ve got three different types of Scotch. Poor, good and excellent. As well as vodka, brandy and something from Eastern Europe I can’t pronounce that will blow your head off.’ She stood up and walked over to her father’s liquor cabinet.

  ‘None of that is your father’s is it?’

  ‘Only one bottle of Scotch at the back and the Eastern European stuff. A gift, I assume. The Scotch falls into the excellent category.’

  ‘Excellent Scotch deserves a better occasion than this. I’ll take the merely good version instead. I probably shouldn’t, but…’

  ‘You deserve a drink after the day you’ve had.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You don’t need anything else do you?’ Elizabeth tried to act casual as she set out the glasses and unscrewed the bottle. There was still no easy way to ask if Monica needed to feed. If she said yes, then Elizabeth had no idea where to send her anyway. Student bars were hardly Monica’s type.

  ‘No, I’m fine, but thank you for asking. I’ll be able to last another week or two.’

  ‘Wow.’

  ‘I know.’ Monica took the glass from her with a hint of pride. ‘I have good days and bad days, but I still have it more under control than anyone else I know. Like I said, practice. And yoga.’

  ‘That’s because no one else is trying,’ said Elizabeth, raising her glass. ‘You always like to be different. Cheers.’

  ‘To being different.’ Monica saluted her with the glass. Elizabeth knew she was no longer referring to herself.

  17

  Jack LeTraub looked out of the window of his apartment, unseeing. He didn’t need to watch anymore. Even when he closed his eyes he could picture every detail.

  It was nothing more than the old habits of a man with too much time to think. That was what came from so much time but too little to do.

  He was the invisible man. He saw everything, but no one saw him.

  No senior vampires knew of his presence amongst them. Even Monica still had no idea of his existence. There was only one possible weak link in that chain. Elizabeth.

  He must trust that she was like her father, sensible when it counted. He smiled to himself. In those moments when he had met her, it had been like having his old friend back again. A few mannerisms and a cautious optimism that covered a ruthlessness. Her father had been so stubborn when he had made his mind up about something. She was the same.

  When she had returned to England he had made sure that she was safe. She had no idea he was still watching over her, even from a thousand miles away. She had made good on her promise to return to a normal life.

  Until two days ago, at least.

  When Monica Carletto booked a sudden flight to England his internal warning systems all went off. Long haul travel was risky, even for one more immune to the brutality of sunlight than most. If such travel was necessary, it was usually planned well in advance. Carefully organised. It was never spur of the moment unless there was a real emergency. He wasn’t a fool. He knew where she was going.

  Things had been going downhill for awhile. Two of his own contacts were already dead, and the ones still alive were beginning to get scared. Rumours and gossip spread like wildfire. In one short week, the panic began to take over.

  Jack understood it was Monica’s place to react. What he didn’t like was that she was prepared to drag Elizabeth out of the safe, sensible world she had created to do so. He had, after all, made a promise to Elizabeth’s father to look after her. It was a promise he intended to keep no matter how old she got.

  No matter how wrong her choices were. How misguided she w
as in her desire to help a vampire she had allowed to come in too close.

  His fear was not one of death itself. Or illness. It was the panic death created that kept him sat at his window, ticking the days away. Panic made vampires afraid and when they were afraid, they did stupid things. They did crazy things. They did dangerous things. Killings that might bring them into the light and destabilise society forever. The most unpredictable vampire was the one with nothing left to lose. Jack LeTraub could see the strands of a bigger picture, weaved together with Elizabeth at its centre. There were countless lives at stake here.

  He didn’t trust Monica not to abuse the relationship she had with Elizabeth. The two of them were closer than they should be, for reasons he could not understand. He had seen before how it had given them a great strength.

  But it was also a fatal weakness.

  18

  Elizabeth’s head was heavy as it hit the pillow. She wasn’t drunk, but she’d had enough to take her back to a person she used to be.

  One drink had turned into two. Two had turned into three. By then her guard was down. Her best intentions from earlier that day had evaporated. The conversation had wandered over so many topics it was easy to pretend they were old friends, just catching up. Like there was so much more history between them than there actually was.

  After drink number three, Elizabeth had told Monica to send her driver away. She had a spare room made up anyway and she could take her to the train station the following day. Monica had declined at first, but the whisky made Elizabeth insistent.

  Elizabeth had few female friends. Close ones, that she could share the non-vampiric parts of her life with. As she talked to Monica, even about the boring stuff, there wasn’t the constant reminder to hold back. As they sat on the cracked leather sofa, Elizabeth felt more relaxed than she had been since before her father died.

  How would he have felt knowing she had invited a vampire to stay in his house? She wasn’t sure. Never discussed when he was alive, she only had the writing in his journals as a measure. The impression was that he was fair and non-judgmental. It was the photograph Elverez had shown her that made her question whether it was more than tolerance. Her father had been smiling, completely comfortable and familiar in a vampire’s home. There was no fear in his eyes, only friendship and camaraderie. His written word never conveyed that event and there was regret she had never been able to see it for herself. Another of the many questions that she would never have the chance to ask.