Blood Bath & Beyond

by Michelle Rowen

  “I get it, Thierry. You don’t want to be distracted by someone who has a tendency to get into trouble at the drop of a hat. I can take a hint. I’m a liability. You want me to stay here.”

  He let out a small, humorless laugh. “What I want is irrelevant. Can you honestly say you’d leave behind your life here in Toronto, everything you’ve ever known and most of your possessions, in order to accompany me on a job that will be frequently boring for you; one that will mean you’ll never know where your true home is?”

  I stared up at him. “Are those rhetorical questions?”

  “No, they’re real questions.” His brows drew together. “Would you come with me if I asked you to?”

  I let go of the balloon, which floated up to the high ceiling of the front foyer before catching on a sharp crystal from the chandelier. It popped on contact.

  I grabbed the lapels of his black jacket. “In a heartbeat.”

  Something I rarely saw slid behind his gray eyes then, something warm and utterly vulnerable. “Then I suggest you pack a bag. Our flight leaves in three hours.”

  I looked at him, stunned. “Our flight?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d be open to this abrupt change, but I did purchase you a ticket just in case.”

  My heart lifted. “You’re so prepared. Just like a Boy Scout.”

  “I try.” A smile played at his lips. “I just hope that this trip doesn’t make you change your mind about me.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” My smile only grew wider before faltering just a little. “But I thought they wanted you to come alone. Won’t they give you a hard time about this?”

  “If they want me for this job, then they will get my fiancée as well. They’ll just have to deal with it.” He took my face between his hands. “I love you, Sarah. Never doubt it.”

  He kissed me and I couldn’t think of any happy happy balloon that could make me this happy happy.

  Change was good. I liked change.

  Chapter 2

  There’s something important that should be known about me. Despite being an immortal vampire, I’m deathly afraid of flying. It’s too bad that it’s the best and quickest way to get anywhere worth going. The flight to Las Vegas was traumatic. And turbulent. And long. And I think I nearly injured Thierry’s hand as I nervously clawed at it during half the flight, but we landed before too much damage occurred.

  Once he’d managed to escape my death clutch as the plane taxied toward the Vegas airport terminal, he was immediately on his phone again, taking a call from someone—probably this Bernard DuShaw guy—about more details to do with this trip. I sat in my seat and relearned how to breathe before applying some lip gloss to offset the sickly green tinge my skin had taken on for the last four and a half hours.

  Being on the ground was a very good thing, and I was thrilled to be in Las Vegas for this unexpected but exciting trip.

  We would be staying in a suite at the Bellagio, a stunning hotel and casino right in the middle of the Vegas Strip. The one with the Italian theme and the dancing fountains out front. Our tab was being picked up by the Ring and I was more than happy to let them do the picking. It was a gorgeous hotel—the lobby took my breath away as we stepped through the entrance doors with our luggage. Marble floors, floor-to-ceiling columns, Italian archways, and a beautiful sculpture attached to the ceiling of thousands of colorful crystal flowers, which was the artistic focal point of the lobby.

  I must have appeared to be a typical awestruck tourist as we walked across the floor toward the reception desks to check in. We were surrounded by scores of other people and the buzz of activity and conversation. I was having a visual overload at everything around me, and my gaze remained fixed on the flowers above my head. I really should have brought a camera.

  “Stand back, Sarah.” Thierry’s hand tightened on my waist.

  I tore my attention away from the lobby ceiling as he pulled me to my left toward a column. It was then I noticed that while we were arriving at the hotel…someone else was leaving.

  On a stretcher.

  A shiver went through me at the sight of a white sheet draped over the occupant’s head, which meant he wasn’t being rushed anywhere but the morgue.

  As the paramedics came within a few feet of us, the top of the white sheet snagged under the front wheel of the stretcher and pulled away, revealing the face and shoulders of the man beneath.

  Yes, that was a dead person, all right—and definitely not something I saw every day. On the heels of my warm and elated feeling from arriving at the beautiful hotel, this particular sight made my blood run cold in my veins. Especially when I saw something unmistakable on the dead man’s throat.

  This man hadn’t died from having a heart attack at the roulette table; that was for sure.

  The paramedic hurriedly covered up the body again and they departed through the main doors toward the waiting ambulance with its lights flashing.

  “Was that a vampire attack?” I asked under my breath. “Or am I just seeing things?”

  “You’re not seeing things.” Thierry’s voice was low enough that no one else around us would overhear.

  His calm tone surprised me. “You sound like you almost expected to see something like that. Did you?”

  He nodded. “When we landed, Bernard called to fill me in on a new situation the Ring is dealing with here. Very recently, there have been a few incidents just like this. Humans with puncture marks on their throats, drained of blood, left in public places. I didn’t think it would be quite this public, though.”

  My stomach lurched. “A few incidents?”

  He took my hand in his. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’s part of the reason the Ring exists in the first place, to help police those who step out of line and allow their thirst to rule their behavior. But vampire-related murders like this are rarely so public.”

  Nothing to worry about. Sure.

  You might expect that a vampire like me would relish the very thought of blood and death. Well, you would be wrong. I couldn’t help but cringe at seeing a human used as an unwilling chew toy like that. Blood, in my humble opinion, should be procured at a local “blood bank”—businesses where the red stuff, courtesy of paid human donors, flowed for a set price. If that made me a fanged wimp who didn’t hang with the cool kids, then so be it.

  Vampires like me preferred to get their drink of choice from humane sources, rather than some random victim in an alleyway. That was messy as well as completely evil.

  Vampires weren’t evil.

  Actually, let me rephrase that. Most vampires weren’t evil.

  Just like humans, we had some bad eggs in the basket. If you were evil as a human, then you were still evil as a vampire. No major personality change happened after a vamp acquired his or her fangs—unless there was a spell or a curse involved. At least, that had been my experience so far.

  “Is that why Bernard called you? Are you supposed to investigate these murders, too?” I asked uneasily, eyeing the crowd in the lobby. Some of the people seemed disturbed by the passing stretcher a minute ago, but most were going on with their day like they hadn’t even noticed.

  “No, I’ve been given another assignment. Bernard is here to head the separate investigation personally. He has a source with the Las Vegas CSI team he’s meeting with as we speak.”

  “I think I prefer the TV version.” The whole situation had given me an incredibly uneasy feeling in the pit of my stomach, which had very little to do with the turbulent flight.

  I gazed out the glass doors as the ambulance drove away. “Welcome to Las Vegas, huh? That poor guy.”

  “Humans are delicate creatures.” Thierry squeezed my hand reassuringly. “Try to put it out of your mind, Sarah. This unpleasantness won’t come anywhere near you, I promise.”

  Humans were delicate. I had been delicate. There might be a lot of negative things about being a vampire, but at least I wasn’t quite as breakable as I’d once been.

  I decided
to do exactly as Thierry suggested and try my best to put the blood-free dead body out of my head as much as possible as we checked in. The woman behind the registration desk eyed my tall, dark, and handsome fiancé appreciatively before glancing at me with some obvious disdain. I made sure to subtly flash her my engagement ring so she knew I had every right to be standing next to him—and that she should, very kindly, back off.

  I never said I wasn’t petty.

  On the way to the elevator, we walked past a poster on an easel that caught my attention.

  “Hey, check it out,” I said. “They have one of those child pageants going on here. Like that reality show with the toddlers who wear tiaras.”

  “Does this interest you?” Thierry asked.

  “Not really. It just always struck me as strange—putting lipstick, a wig, and a fake tan on a little kid. It’s like they’re a thirty-year-old stuck in a toddler’s body.”

  “It’s very much like that, actually.” He nodded at the poster. “This is the case Bernard’s officially handing off to me.”

  I looked at him. “Seriously? What kind of case is it?”

  “One of the contestants is a vampire.”

  I glanced at the colorful poster with shock this time. “That is messed up.”

  “It’s also against the Ring’s rules. It’s possible that she’s unaware of this, but she has to be told. It’s my job to learn her history, find out when she was sired, and who exactly was responsible for turning a child. Also, she must be made aware that public spectacles involving children that never age could only draw the attention of vampire hunters.”

  I took this all in. “And what happens to the vamp responsible for siring her?”

  “Whoever it was—if they’re still alive—will be dealt with.”

  I grimaced. “That doesn’t sound pleasant.”

  “It won’t be. But that isn’t up to me. That goes to another department.” His jaw tensed. “Enforcement.”

  Just the sound of it chilled me. “What a fun job you’ve acquired, Thierry. Death, mayhem, sequins. Sign me up.”

  He reached down to take my hand again. “It’s much better now that you’re with me.”

  “Sweet talker.” I grinned, but my smile faded as I glanced at the poster once more. “So what happens to the little vamp herself?”

  “She’ll be asked not to take part in these public displays in the future. Like I said, it could attract hunters. Her life, and the lives of her fellow contestants, could be in danger.”

  That caused a fresh churning in my gut. “That would be a very bad thing.”

  “Yes, it would.” Thierry glanced at his watch. “There’s a little time to settle in. We’re meeting Bernard and his wife, Laura, for dinner at eight o’clock.”

  First time I’d heard about this, which wasn’t a surprise to me at all. Thierry wasn’t exactly what I would call the most “forthcoming with details” guy I’d ever met in my life.

  “Bernard has a wife? That’s interesting.”

  “They’re a lot like us, Bernard and Laura. Bernard’s a master vampire and Laura’s a fledgling. She was sired only a few years ago.”

  “Okay, now I’m very interested to meet them,” I said.

  A “master” vampire was just another way of saying that, despite the attractive exterior, he’d been around a long, long time.

  “I think you might get along. After all, you have a great deal in common.”

  I liked the sound of this a lot. It was the chance to meet someone living a life parallel to mine. Thierry and I were still engaged, not married, but I hoped to tie the proverbial knot soon. The trouble was, picking a date that would have all my loved ones—both human and vampire—in one place at the same time was proving to be a challenge now that everyone had scattered to the far corners of the earth.

  I glanced down at my engagement ring, which was absolutely gorgeous. Three carats. Princess cut. Flawless in every possible way.

  I wondered how big Laura DuShaw’s ring was.

  “Six carats?” I held her hand and stared at the monstrous diamond with disbelief. “Wow, it’s incredible.”

  She smiled. “Diamonds are a girl’s best friend.”

  Laura reminded me of myself more than I would have thought possible. She even looked like she could be my sister, with her shoulder-length dark brown hair and hazel eyes that mirrored my own. However, she wore more makeup than I did and her clothes looked a bit more designer and custom-made. I used to have a serious obsession for clothes and shoes, but had toned that down lately. I’d had to run away from a whole lot of vampire hunters and I’d come to the quick realization that this was much easier to do when not wearing four-inch stiletto heels—although I was wearing a pair right now.

  I still enjoyed shopping, and being romantically involved with someone with cash to spare, I could do it every day if I wanted to, but it had lost some of its flavor for me. And now that I’d agreed to live exclusively out of a suitcase for the foreseeable future, I wasn’t in much of a hurry to stock up on new threads.

  But I could admire those who did. And their threads.

  As for Laura’s husband, Bernard…he was a very handsome man. Thierry told me on the plane ride here that he was a little over three hundred years old and, in his youth, had even been associated with Marie Antoinette during the French Revolution. Thierry warned me not to bring up Marie Antoinette’s name in conversation since it was a touchy subject for Bernard. As if I would. My knowledge of the French queen went about as far as knowing she said something like “let them eat cake,” and Kirsten Dunst had played her in the movie version.

  Thierry was the history expert in our relationship, not me. Of course, he’d learned everything not from books but by living through it all firsthand—from the Black Death and beyond.

  Just as Laura looked a lot like me, Bernard looked a lot like Thierry. He had dark hair, pale eyes—although Bernard’s were green, not gray—and expensive suits with clean lines. Tall and lean, with an air of authority and an edge of power about him, this man wasn’t a pushover.

  He had a softer side, I was sure. I wondered if it had taken Laura as much digging and sheer pigheaded stubbornness to find Bernard’s as it had taken me to find Thierry’s.

  A typical restaurant dinner for vampires included wine and coffee, which were consumed, and plates of food, which were not. I used to wait tables in university. I’d often retrieved full plates of food at the end of the meal that looked only picked at, but it never raised any red flags for me. Everyone seemed to be on a diet at any given time. It didn’t necessarily mean I’d been serving a table full of vampires.

  But maybe I had been.

  “If you’ll excuse us,” Bernard said, rising from the table after the untouched dessert plates were cleared away. He, unlike Thierry, had a strong French accent. He fixed both Laura and myself with a charming smile. “Thierry and I have some business to discuss. We’ll be outside by the pool to get some fresh air.”

  Thierry nodded. “Bernard is kind enough to give me some tips on how best to present myself tomorrow when I meet with Ms. Corday.”

  The miniature pageant vamp. That should be an interesting meeting.

  “Take lots of notes,” I suggested.

  “I’ll do that.” He brushed his hand against mine as he got up from his seat, and then he and Bernard left Laura and me at the table.

  “Bernard brought some Cuban cigars to share with Thierry,” Laura told me. “He wants to celebrate.”

  “Nothing says congrats on your retirement like illegal tobacco.”

  I took a sip from my glass of red wine. As a vampire I couldn’t eat anything solid, but I’d never had much of a problem with alcoholic beverages. Some vampires could still eat normal food; however, I’d noticed this was rare. They were the freaks, not me.

  At least, that’s how I liked to think of it.

  “Have you been to Vegas before?” Laura asked.

  “Never. I always wanted to, but never got around
to it until now. You?” I’d butter her up with small talk before we got into the real nitty-gritty details of hers and Bernard’s relationship and how that information could benefit me in the future.

  “Yes. But I don’t like it here very much.” Laura leaned back in her seat and ran her perfectly manicured index finger along the edge of her wineglass.

  “No? Why not?”

  “Oh, I’ve been here too many times to count—many memories…good and bad ones. Plus, with the murders this week, it’s not exactly safe for our kind to spend too much time here at the moment.”

  I cringed at the reminder of what I’d seen earlier in the lobby. “How many murders have there been?”

  Her expression tensed and her gaze swept the crowded restaurant. “I probably shouldn’t have mentioned it. Bernard didn’t bring it up during dinner because he didn’t want to upset anyone, but I’m sure that’s one of the things he’s talking to Thierry about in private right now. There have been six humans who’ve turned up dead in the last week here on the Strip—one a day, including the one found in the Bellagio casino today. All were drained of blood and had fang marks on their necks.”

  Six! That was definitely more than a few. “Thierry mentioned to me that Bernard has a source with the police?”

  She nodded. “He knows it’s an out-of-control vampire who’s willing to expose the rest of us to get his next meal. Frankly, I think he’s trying to make a statement by being so public about it.”

  Most vampires didn’t drink blood directly from humans, so they didn’t run the risk of leaving a dead body lying about. This was a huge no-no—and one enforced by the Ring. Killing humans = BAD.

  Vampires were to keep low profiles and not risk exposing themselves to humans at large. It was bad enough having scores of hunters looking to put a stake through our hearts, let alone having the entire world alerted to our existence.

  “Why would he do it on purpose?” I asked. “That makes zero sense.”

  Her red, glossy lips thinned and she counted off on her manicured fingers. “Troublemaker. Attention hound. Sociopath. You name it. He definitely came to the right town if he wants some attention. However, if Bernard finds out who it is, he has the authority to stake him on sight.”