by Unknown
His mom called his cell as soon as he hit his apartment. He considered not answering, but decided to call her back as he went to the kitchen to put the liquor away. He assured her that he was fine and that Susan would be too, and yes he did get suspended but the little coward Lynch had it coming so he’d take the days and get it over with.
“I bet Susan will be having some time off, too. It would be good for you to go visit her, take care of her and get to know each other away from that crazy job.”
“Look Mom I gotta go, okay? Love you. Bye.”
Shit. He grabbed one of the wine bottles and uncorked it then took a couple of long swallows without benefit of a glass. Matchmaking . . . just what he needed. He caught sight of the dish the bird had been on and wondered if that bastard Sakurai had had a hand in that as well as the cleaning of his room and the leaving of the cumsplattered towel. Of course he had . . . .
Sick fucker.
Dai went to the living room and automatically reached to remove his gun and shield before plopping onto the couch.Fuck. He reached around to grab his wallet and pulled out the envelope from his mailbox along with it. Dai took another swig of wine then set the bottle down and tore open the note. In a fluid, old-looking Chinese script it read:
You tasted it didn’t you?
There’s more where that came from.
“Fuck you!” Dai tore the note and threw it toward the TV. Or rather toward the empty space where his TV had been. “Fuck!”
He jumped up, searched the apartment and found nothing else amiss. Only his TV and his DVD player were gone. It had to be that fucker, Sakurai. Dai checked the front door. The lock hadn’t been tampered with nor had the bedroom window. In fact, the window was locked from the inside and his stupid cat was out on the fire escape trying to get in.
He jerked the window up. “Get your furry ass in h---”
Dai broke off as he saw something dangling from a ribbon tied to Stupid Dude’s collar. A chocolate bar. The kind with the special wrapper saying that it was for a school fundraiser.What the fuck?
He pulled the ribbon off and Stupid Dude jumped down from the sill to rub against Dai’s legs.
“‘With twenty-five percent more almonds . . . .’“ Dai’s eyes widened in shock as the deeper meaning behind this ‘gift’ sunk in.
Of all the fucked up things he did as a kid to try and make some cash, this was one scam he never got busted for. When he was about twelve, he ran into a couple of kids from a private school. St. Augustine’s, Dai remembered now. He could still picture their neatly pressed grey and white uniforms and black ties, for Christ’s sake. The dumbass kids were trying to sell chocolates as part of a school fundraiser.
Dai couldn’t resist—being the little bastard he was. He beat up the kids, stole their chocolates, and then ran up and down the neighborhood selling the candies so he could pocket the cash. Everyone who bought one thought that he was selling them for his own school’s fundraiser. Of course, he was careful not to sell them to anyone who really knew him. If Magera had ever found out, the old man would still have Dai kneeling on the restaurant floor saying “Hail Marys.”
Ingenious.
Dai felt the heat rush to his face at the sound of Sakurai’s voice echoing in his mind. He dropped the candy and slammed the window shut, his heart racing.
“How the fuck do you keep doing that!” he roared. “Stop it!”
Someone pounded on the apartment door and Dai spun around, praying to God it would be Sakurai so he could beat the ever loving shit out of the creep. He had to work very hard to ignore the part of him that wanted to do something quite different, though . . . .
“You fuck!” Dai threw open the door and almost shoved his fist through Wei’s face.
His brother backed away and raised his hands. “Hey, take it easy, Dai. Next time I’ll call ahead—don’t whack out on me.”
Dai looked up and down the hall. No sign of the bastard, yet Dai had the feeling Sakurai was somewhere close.
“Come on in,” he said, stepping aside to let Wei enter.
“I saw the news and . . . .” Wei’s voice trailed off and he gave his older brother a look of pity. “Did they go ahead fire you, ge-ge? Did you sell the TV already? Shit, man you were always the responsible one with money. I figured you had a stash in the bank. Hell, mom still has you help with her checkbook and taxes. Man, I can help you get some cash if you need it.”
“Goddammit, Wei-Wei I---” Dai paused and ran his hand through his hair. “What exactly would it involve?”
Wei blinked like maybe he hadn’t heard right, then he smiled cheerfully. “Now that’s more like it, Dai.” He eyed the open wine on the coffee table and picked up the bottle. “Let’s make this a party for two.”
Dai frowned as he watched his brother take a long drink. “Just answer my question—what do I have to do?”
“It’s not that simple.” Wei offered him the bottle and plopped down on the sofa. “I can’t just come out andtell you . . . that’s not how it works.” He picked up the crumpled note from Sakurai off of the table and Dai ripped it out of his hands.
“Dammit, Wei!”
“What the fuck, Dai? See, this cop jazz has you wasted, man.” He nodded knowingly while Dai tucked the note away. “This is going to be the best thing that ever happened to you. You’ve worked your ass off for those guys and this city—put your own neck on the line for years--and all they’ve ever given you was shit. By dragging you into that, Watts totally fucked—”
“Don’t go there,” Dai warned. “I mean it.”
Wei leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.
“All I’m saying is that it’s time for you to start looking out foryou,” he said quietly. “You think it was easy hearing the news and finding out my older brother could’ve been shot by some prickhead on ice or something? Fuck no.”
“It’s part of the job,” Dai mumbled, staring at the label on the wine bottle in his hand.
“Oh, right,” Wei said angrily. “‘The job’. Like they’ve treated you so great over the years. How many times have they shafted you, man? Didn’t you run down like three perps just so one of the fat old-timers could add the arrests to his quota?”
“Five.” Dai gulped down a mouthful of the liquor, not even tasting it. “It was five perps.”
“There you go.” Wei sounded as bitter as Dai felt. “And I’m sure there’s a lot more going on that you haven’t told even me.”
Like how he always used to get put on the worst beats because he didn’t kiss ass like Allen and some of the others at the academy. How the politics at the precinct were sometimes just as ugly as the hierarchies set up in street gangs. Yeah . . . there was a hell of a lot of shit he’d never told Wei about.
“So . . . .” Wei stood up and took the bottle from Dai’s hand. “Instead of getting drunk to forget today’s shit, let’s go get drunk to celebrate the way your life is going to get better.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Dai whispered, suddenly very, very unsure of where his life was headed . . . and not as afraid about it as he should be.
“I’m serious,ge-ge.” Wei wrapped his arm around Dai’s shoulder and steered him to the door. “Come with me, and I’ll show you what I mean. For real this time--no tests, no tryouts. What do you say?”
Dai looked at his brother and then opened the door. “Sure.”
* * * * *
A quick stroll through one of the city’s rougher areas afforded Sakurai a veritable feast of blood and high emotions that replenished his strength though it hardly whet his appetite. No, that honor would go to his new pet, his new “little brother” hisdai-dai . . . the intriguing and hot-blooded Detective Daisuke Matsui.
Feeling rejuvenated enough to deal with the tiresome new breed of chiang shih in lower Manhattan, Sakurai headed toward theResurrection. As he had the other night, he approached over the rooftops of adjacent buildings then crouched up between the old stone gargoyles, watching the mortals line up to experience th
e decadence upon the upper floors. Young vampires mingled with the crowd, apparently so they could pick out “dinner companions” from amongst the humans. How pathetic, Sakurai thought, and yet he found himself wanting to meet this “Mistress” Jung Kai and the others feared.
As before, Sakurai jumped down into the narrow, dimly lit passage, but this night he met no resistance at the door. He was admitted freely and the ipso facto “leader”—Mikail, Sakurai discovered—greeted him with what Daisuke would no doubt refer to as a “shit-eating grin.”
“Welcome, Master Sakurai, we are so pleased to have you here again. The Mistress has been anxious to meet you,” he said in a slithery tone. He gestured toward a glassed-off enclosure with curtains shielding the occupants from the main portion of the room.
“Well then I shall remedy that right now. “
“No.”
Sakurai stared.
Mikail offered a slimy smile. “I mean please, not just yet. She is having a
conference with Yun on a most important matter.” He gestured to an empty leather sofa facing a bare portion of the floor. “Please come and have a drink. We have entertainment. Most interesting entertainment this evening.”
Sakurai sat at the table the other vampire indicated. A moment later a scantily clad young woman appeared, wine bottles in hand. She offered him a taste of each and he chose the Merlot, for the blood it contained had that hint of sexual frustration that added that special something to the blood of his new pet Daisuke. Settling back, Sakurai sipped the drink as the “entertainment” began.
Within moments Sakurai looking away. “This is nothing compared to what I used to provide at the House of Ecstasy.”
“Oh?” Mikail said.
Sakurai smirked. “Yes.” He glanced toward the curtained enclosure but could perceive nothing. He finished his drink then set the glass down on the table to his right. “I noticed a few familiar things in your upper area. Tell me, Mikail, are you in an exhibitionist mood this evening?”
Dark Whispers Sheridan and Cain 2009
Chapter Ten
Wei led Dai past the line of people waiting to get into the kink club and went farther along the narrow passage then around the building to a short flight of concrete steps that led down to a narrow door, on a lower level of the club.
“It’s Wei Qing,” Wei said in Cantonese as someone cracked open the door. Wei turned back to Dai and leaned in to speak softly in Japanese. “You may see some weird shit, brother, but just stay cool. It’s all good. Trust me.”
Trust him. Yeah. Right. Dai frowned but slipped through the door behind Wei into a room where a few couples lingered here and there talking. Heads turned when they passed through the outer room and the hairs on Dai’s neck shot up as a wave of unknown bad shit swept over him. He inhaled a slow breath, thankful for the weight of his off-duty weapon concealed beneath his leather jacket. He let his gaze sweep the room and though the lighting was even dimmer with the presence of his sunglasses he kept them on.
Wei led him to a corner sofa facing another smaller room, this one glass and curtained from the inside. Wei stared at the room like some hungry puppy looking into a butcher’s case and when that Captain Jack-looking fucker, Yun, peered out between the curtains, Dai narrowed his eyes. It figured that piece of shit would be involved. A scantily clad waitress appeared, drawing his attention. She carried a small round tray bearing a wine bottle and two glasses. Dai peered at the label over the top of his glasses. “Blood of the Vine, huh?”
“It’s better than nothing in a pinch,” the girl said, licking her lips and the tips of some dime store fangs before leaving.
Dai settled back, resting his arm along the back of the sofa. “So this is the kiddie Goth version of the kink club upstairs?”
“This ain’t no kiddie shit, ge-ge.” Wei poured himself a glass of wine and gulped it down, shaking his head as one would after downing a shot of throat-searing liquor.
“Yeah, right.” Dai poured himself a drink and paused when Wei touched his arm. “Go slow. It takes some getting used to.”
Dai smirked. “Shit. I was drinking when you were still sucking on Mamma’s milk.” He took a mouthful of the wine and spit it out. “What the fuck?”
“Shit! Man, Itold you, ge-ge!”
Heads turned and Wei took his jacket off and sopped up the wine with the lining —the wine that tasted like backwash from a fucking bloody nose. Dai looked around at the other patrons, as the freaks all snickered and gave each other the eye. Dai noticed a flutter of curtain and caught another glimpse of Yun and someone else, someone smaller, a woman maybe?
Wei snapped his head around. “Oh fuck! Tell me the Mistress did not look out and see you!”
“TheMistress.” Dai laughed. “You really are some kinky bitch’s whipping boy aren’t you?”
“Shut up!”
Dai flipped Wei off and stood. “Fuck this shit. I’m gone.”
Stay.
Dai froze.Sakurai. He was here; that was his voice. He whipped his head around, pulled off his sunglasses and looked again. He couldn’t see him but fuck hecouldfeel his presence.
Dai sat, his gaze still sweeping the room.
Such a good pet.
I am nobody’s pet, you fucker. Certainly not yours.
Sakurai’s laughter rang out inside Dai’s head. How did hedo that? Cocksucker.
I never suck. I only receive, as you’ll soon see . . . .
The lights in the room dimmed further and soon a spotlight came up, creating a pale blue circle illuminating a small wooden platform in the center of the floor. The anticipation of the crowd was palpable and Dai found himself sitting on the edge of his seat with the rest of them. A ripple of gasps filled the room and Dai glanced over his shoulder to watch in rapt fascination as a familiar figure crawled out from the shadows on all fours. He was the one from the other night, who’d calmed the blood-licking crazy. Stocky, with a shaved head, the guy reminded Dai of a Buddhist monk except for the fact that he was wearing that red leather jumpsuit. And a studded dog collar. The collar had a leash attached and it trailed on the floor beneath him as he crawled.
The guy crawled to the edge of the platform and sat kneeling, his hands placed behind his back. The room grew deathly silent and Dai had no trouble hearing the sharp click of boot heels upon the floor behind him. He turned and watched Sakurai step out of the shadows, dressed in a uniform reminiscent of an old German Gestapo officer. He’d tucked his long hair up beneath the officer’s cap. He wore leather gloves and in his right hand he carried a long riding crop. A riding crop which had tiny metal spikes affixed to the final two inches of the tip.
With each slow, measured step Sakurai slapped the tip of the crop against the top of his high leather boot. He gave Dai the barest passing glance, his dark, ominous gaze for the most part riveted to the man kneeling on the stage.
Dai felt a surge of heat, a swell of blood in his groin and he shifted forward a little more.
Sakurai approached the kneeling man from behind, placed one booted foot in the middle of his back and pushed until the man’s face rested on the stage. Sakurai stepped over the prone man then lifted the man’s chin with his foot. “You know what to do, bitch.”
The man cradled Sakurai’s foot in both hands and laved his tongue over the highly polished leather as if he were making love to a woman. Without warning, Sakurai kicked and the man went sprawling on his back then quickly righted himself and crawled back to the stage. He paused at the edge, only climbing back up when Sakurai gave a quick nod.
Dai licked his lips, wishing he had a real drink as his mouth went dry watching Sakurai circle the submissive man, the riding crop slapping against the top of his boot with each step.
“Take it off, whore. Show me what’smine.”
For a moment, Sakurai looked up, his gaze impaling Dai, who felt the power of that stare deep inside.
* * * * *
“What an interesting pair,” Madame Viktoria said before running her thi
n fingers through the hair of her human “dinner companion.”
The girl purred groggily and snuggled in closer. Viktoria bent to drain the last of the teen’s blood then gave the girl’s dying body a shove off the edge of the thickly padded chaise.
A stone-faced servant quickly dragged the body away as Viktoria daubed at her painted lips with a crisp linen napkin. “I take it you have use for Wei Qing’s brother?”
Yun turned, a sly smile upon his lips. He smoothed down the edges of his moustache. “I may at that.”
Viktoria gestured toward the narrow slit in the curtains. “The other one . . . Sakurai . . . he intrigues me greatly.”
Yun frowned. “I’m certain that’s his plan, Mistress. Thisshow of his is totally unnecessary.”
“But quite entertaining,” Viktoria said, gesturing for Yun to move and open the curtain a little wider. She steepled her fingers and peered over the tops of her long, pointed nails. I’m quite surprised to see how he’s thoroughly cowed Mikail.”
Yun replied with a sneer, turning his attention back to the show.
* * * * *
On the sofa next to Dai, Wei made a strangled little noise that sounded something like a cross between a gasp and a cough. Dai barely heard him, and cared even less that there might be a problem. Completely, totally, fucking enthralled, he couldn’t take his eyes off the stage. Off Sakurai.
“Show me what’s mine,” Sakurai repeated, his voice barely more than a slithering whisper this time.
The way the man spoke, with his dark gaze still locked on Dai . . . . Dai wasn’t sure who the command was meant for—the man in the red, or him. He gripped the sofa’s armrest until his hand ached to stop himself from standing up, from walking to the stage himself.
“How fucked is this?” Wei grabbed Dai’s shoulder, unknowingly helping to hold him down. “That guy, I don’t know who the fuck he is, but the one in red—that’s Mikail. He never been a pussy like this.”
“Shut up,” Dai whispered. “You have no idea what’s going on up there.”
