When Vamps Bite: A Mayhem of Magic World Story (Bedlam in Bethlehem Book 1)

by Nicole Zoltack

  His ice-cold breath on my exposed skin turns my body into an icicle. My human frozen popsicle-ness is not gonna stop me. His hold is too strong for me to jerk free. Still, I twist my body enough that I get in a solid right hook.

  Right into his fang.

  Which cracks.

  He drops me to the ground, more or less throwing me down. The impact jars me so badly that I can’t stand. His howls sound like a wolf’s, and I swear I hear the flapping of huge wings.

  Bats? Can they really shapeshift?

  Better bats than wolves.

  Oh my God, werewolves better not be real, too.

  The female vamps the injured one back a three-graves distance.

  Something glitters, glowing, smiting the fog. A piece of fang. The sharpened edge slices through my skin as I pick it up. I don’t feel as vulnerable or frightened now, only furious. They’ve provoked me enough.

  Thoroughly furious and even more determined now, I force my legs to cooperate and stand. The intruder materializes in front of me. His cocky smirk makes me want to punch him.

  So I try.

  He grips my necklace-wrapped hand. The scent of burnt flesh sears my nose. Black smoke rises from our clasped hands. Wow. Silver really does hurt them. Burn them.

  Does the sun? Is that why they have a mist? The fog blocks out the sun so the light can’t bother them? The moon reflects the sunlight, and that includes UV light.

  We need UV guns or something.

  “We really need to stop meeting like this,” he says, not flinching despite the world of pain he must be in.

  Sadist.

  “Yeah, or else I’m gonna expect you to start buying me dinner,” I snap. “With plenty of candlelight.”

  “Stop toying with her,” the female snaps.

  “Oh, can it, Lucille.”

  Really? Really? She shares a name with a barbed-wire bat?

  Of course, she does.

  “Can it?” I mock with disgust, trying to provoke a reaction from him. “You a newbie vamp or what? Or maybe you’re old, really old, and have just adapted to the vernacular.”

  Enraged and frustrated by my human limitations, I press the necklace deeper into his palm.

  His grin grows. “Trying to learn more about us, huh? What did you say? I hate to break it to you, but I’m not stupid.”

  “Yeah, you are. Because you haven’t killed me.”

  Maybe the pain’s getting to be too much for him. Maybe it’s adrenaline, or maybe it’s something else altogether. Regardless, I yank my hand free and slam my fist into his gut.

  He doesn’t react.

  What in the world? I’m so shocked I back up a step.

  “Hands up,” a sharp voice calls out.

  My heart skips a beat and another and another. I’m not breathing. Diego Garcia. He knew what I had planned, but how had he known to come here?

  My cell. I never turned it off. Or maybe he’s put a tracking device on my car.

  That slick dog. If the two of us make it out of here alive, I might just owe him a kiss.

  His voice is enough to make the intruder vamp turn aside, and I lay my palm against his neck. He hisses and recoils. I glimpse his ruined palm as he seizes my throat. His tight grip makes me see red flares of speckled light immediately.

  “Drop her or we’ll shoot,” Diego warns.

  Your bullets won’t work! I want to yell but can’t.

  Wait. We?

  Who else is here?

  Now I hear it, as if from far away, as if I’m dreaming. Footfalls of at least twenty people.

  “I said to drop her.” Diego fires.

  His bullet hits the intruder’s right hand, the unburned one.

  And his bullet blasts a small hole through the skin.

  The vamp and I stare at it. He drops me. At least I’m not thrown to the ground this time.

  What in the what? How does Diego have a silver bullet and I don’t?

  The other vamps… Where are they? In the chaos of being attacked by the intruder, I lost track of them, but the police haven’t. They’re tying them up in what must be silver rope.

  Diego trots over and hands me another silver rope. He’s grinning, and I just gape at him, confused and shocked by this turn of events.

  “I assume you want the honors?” he asks.

  “Hell yeah I do,” I say, eager and willing.

  With almost giddy glee, I wrap the vamp tightly even though the necklace digs into my skin, making me bleed. His eyes flash darkly, and his nostrils flare.

  Diego grabs his shoulder to lead him away, but I hold up a hand. No longer frightened, fueled by anger, I step real close to the vamp. I’m on tiptoes so we’re closer to the same level, somewhat, given that he’s part-giant.

  “You never did give me your name,” I say sweetly.

  He snorts. “I will taste your blood no matter what Lucille says.”

  “She the boss? I wouldn’t have thought you’d allow—”

  “I do what I want.”

  “Ah. Spoiled, pampered little vamp. Not having a good day? Night? Whatever.”

  He merely grins. The silver rope only touches his clothes, but the scent of seared skin won’t leave my nose. It does, however, crumble that boulder of fear into dust. He’s cocky, I’ll give him that. Arrogant, too. Neither of which are good qualities.

  Okay, yeah, both could be attributed to me. I know that. I own it.

  “This isn’t over,” he promises.

  Just like that, I’m all anxious and uptight again.

  “What do you mean?”

  “We’re taking them in now,” Diego says, nodding to the officers forcing the other vamps forward. Once they’re tucked safely in the police car, most of the fog rolls away.

  I walk the intruder to Diego’s car myself. I so want to learn the vamp’s name! I sit next to him, eyeing him, not trusting him to not make a move. He watches me the entire time, and it’s more than a little unnerving. He’s in custody. So are the others. You’re safe. You did it.

  But I still have so many unanswered questions, and I have a feeling interrogation won’t go over so smoothly.

  Still, I’ve gotta take pride that we’ve managed this so far. The vamps are gonna be locked up and off the streets.

  No more bedlam for Bethlehem. Here is justice for Jennifer Hamilton, Calinda Moore, Gizmo, the pawn store guy’s cousin, Carol Sue, and all of the others.

  So why do I still feel on edge as if another shoe is about to drop?

  Chapter 29

  There’s a ton of fanfare at the station as we book the vamps and place them in separate interrogation rooms. At one point, I go up to Diego, wanting to thank him, but words fail me for once. He just smirks and winks. He knows I appreciate him being my backup, even though I hadn’t asked for it. The last thing I want is for him to get a fat head, a fatter head.

  I ask Felix to head over to the hospital and tell the lieutenant in person that we’ve captured them. He grins and leaves. I’m on my way to interrogate a vamp when Marlon comes over.

  “So, I guess we’ll find out for certain if you’re right about your vampire theory soon enough.” He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “I gotta tell you I really didn’t know what to think about that, but their eyes…” Marlon shudders.

  “Don’t tell me they scare you,” I tease.

  “You’re injured.” He holds up my hand that’s still wrapped in the necklace.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Don’t be silly. Diego was ranting and raving about needing silver, pure silver. Said he had placed an order at the lieutenant’s insistence. He was only able to make about six bullets before he said he had to get going. I’m sure he’ll let you have one, so…” Without asking for permission, he unwraps the necklace from my hand to reveal angry cut lines. The scent of blood is strong enough that I can smell it. The vamps must be going crazy.

  Marlon has another officer grab him a first aid kit, and he washes the wounds and patches me up. Doctor Dean could’ve
done a better job, but this’ll suffice.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispers, patting the bandage. “I should’ve believed you. Chasing down the drug angle… I always knew it was a stretch because the first victim had no drug connection, but… it was easier than…”

  “Believing in vamps,” I say, wincing at my cold tone because, basically, I mean believing in me, believing me.

  He flinches. “Yeah, I owe you a beer. A rum and coke. Sorry. You don’t drink beer.” Marlon runs a hand down his face.

  At least he corrected his error, and the bags beneath his eyes show how hard he’s been working his angle. It takes a lot to apologize and admit when you’re wrong, and I do appreciate that.

  Pushing aside any lingering hurt feelings, I grin. “Sure. But I might need a bottle of wine instead.”

  “It’s a date.” He winks.

  My grin fades slightly. It’s amazing how much I’ve changed in such a short amount of time. I would’ve been thrilled to hear that not that long ago, but now? Now I’m not sure what I want, who I want. I mean, I believe in vamps and now I’ve proven they exist.

  I wave my bandaged hand at him and step toward the interrogation rooms. Diego leans against the first door and wordlessly hands me a gun.

  “So the lieutenant ordered silver but never told me,” I say without preamble. It’s irrational, I know, but anger and frustration flow through me. It took so much for me to be able to arm myself, and I felt so alone. Here, the lieutenant was more on my side than I ever knew, if someone can be on my side while keeping secrets from me.

  “Nah. I ordered the silver myself and blamed it on the lieutenant.” He grins recklessly. “The bill is waiting for him on his desk.”

  “You’re insane, you know that?”

  His grin remains, but his eyes narrow slightly. He’s pissed but trying to hide it. “You’re the insane one.”

  “It all worked out.” I reach for the door handle.

  He grips my forearm. “I appreciate you going after them yourself. I swear to God, Clarissa, if you pull a stunt like that again, I will not be there to save your ass.”

  I scowl, my temper flaring. “I didn’t ask for—”

  “That’s the problem,” he explodes in a whisper. “You didn’t ask for help, and you should’ve. You think I didn’t realize that you were saying goodbye? That you planned on dying to prove they were vampires? God, Clarissa. I barely had enough time to set everything in motion for the perimeter. We didn’t have enough bullets for everyone, so it was a really dangerous affair.”

  “I had everything handled,” I say stubbornly.

  “You wouldn’t have been able to bring all three in and you know it. You might not have survived. Or was that what you planned? On sacrificing yourself, on not surviving to try to bring us all on board with your theory?”

  I swallow hard. He’s way too close to the truth. “I was doing just fine.”

  Rolling his eyes, he crosses his arms. His scowl is severe, and he shakes his lowered head. “You really believe that, don’t you?”

  I bite back my frustration. “Look, I do appreciate you coming out and helping me. Being my backup. I was stupid and reckless, yes. I… I didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

  “You did.” He’s eyeing my bandage.

  “Self-inflicted.”

  “Isn’t that the worst kind of pain?” Something flashes in his eyes.

  We could have a moment here. I could ask him to explain, to dig deep into his soul, to learn about his own demons.

  But I pull back. I’m damaged enough without needing to battle someone else’s demons.

  “Where’s your jokes and teasing?” I grin, trying to show I’m unaffected. “Aren’t you going to offer to kiss my boo-boo?”

  “Didn’t Marlon already do that?”

  “Jealousy doesn’t suit you,” I say lightly.

  “I’m not jealous.”

  “Good.”

  “Good.” He glances at the door. “Lucas is in there. Want me to come in with you? None of them have been questioned yet.”

  “Actually, I want to talk to the female first.”

  “Next door down.”

  “Thanks. And watch through the glass. Please.”

  He hesitates before nodding. “All right.”

  My aggravation is shoved to the back burner, but now frustration rolls in to take its place. Because I know none of the vamps are gonna cooperate. They’re off the street, but they remain an issue. There have got to be more vamps out there, outside of Bethlehem.

  The coldness of the handle seeps through my bandage.

  Lucille stares blankly ahead, not blinking, as still as a statue, inhuman. A slight hissing sound comes from the silver anchoring her to the table. She’s being burned, but she’s acting unaffected. Unreal.

  “Hi.” I sit across from her and place the gun on the table, pointed toward her. “Ready to talk?”

  Frozen. No blinks.

  “How many vamps are there?”

  No acknowledgment.

  “Why not just drink blood from donor bags? I mean, stealing is a crime, but at least it’s not murder.”

  Nothing.

  “Speaking of blood, how long can you go without any?” My fingers caress the gun’s handle.

  Now she blinks. With fear? With worry? I can’t tell.

  “Ah. Yeah,” I say with mock pity. “You really think we’re gonna feed you? Nope. Not gonna happen. We aren’t sure if you’re human at all, so you technically don’t have any rights. If you try to complain to the media, well, you really don’t want to be outed, right? Or else you wouldn’t have been sneaking about in the shadows.”

  She’s back to being a statue. Her mask is solid.

  I place my hands on the table and suppress a wince as my injured palm touches the hard surface. “Can you tolerate the sun? Does the light burn you? Or just silver? What about gold? You drink blood, so iron shouldn’t affect you, I guess. No answer, huh? Well, the sun will be up soon. Maybe I’ll take you to a window. See what happens.”

  She shifts her head a fraction of an inch, contempt and disgust visible in the curling of her upper lip. “Your ignorance is showing.”

  “Then enlighten me. Please.”

  “Oh, yes. Please. Such a magic word, right? I’ll tell you everything because you said please.”

  Her blank stare hides no warmth, and her cold tone is enough to make me shiver. There’s so much coldness from her. At least the intruder, for all of his posturing, will at least grin at times. It’s as if her facial features are frozen. She’s a giant block of ice in vamp form.

  “Then get started.” I tap my foot impatiently.

  But she says nothing. No amount of pushing and prodding or yelling or cursing will get her to say even one more word.

  So I move onto the intruder. He flashes me a smile as soon as I enter the room, but there’s something about him that seems… off. Like he’s lost a step.

  “Name please.”

  “Fernando.”

  “Fernando? That’s your name?” For some reason, this shocks me. It just doesn’t fit him.

  He rolls his eyes. “No. You asked for a name. I gave you a name. I didn’t give you my name.”

  It takes everything in me to not snap at him. “What is your name?”

  “Vincent.”

  “Do you have a last name, Vincent?”

  The vamp tilts his head to the side. “I don’t much feel like answering another question.”

  “Why is that?”

  “That’s another question.”

  I flare my nostrils. Impatience and agitation are quickly becoming my best friends. “You said in the cemetery that I wanted to learn more about you. That’s true. Very true.”

  Forcefully, I pull out the seat opposite of him and sit down. The table isn’t nearly big enough for my liking. He’s way too close, but at least he’s tied up. I take a measure of comfort in that, even if I’m anxious to get answers and to hightail it out of here.


  “Knowledge is power,” he says, staring with disapproval at the silver strapping him to the table and chair.

  Interesting. He’s not showing any signs of anger or fear. Just disgust.

  “Yes, I know silver harms you. And if you don’t talk, we’ll have to conduct experiments to find out what else can harm you. You might feed on us, but it’s about time that we learn how to defend ourselves against you.”

  He keeps his head lowered but rolls his eyes up to look at me. “You do not fear me.”

  I tighten my jaw. “No, I don’t. And yes, I do.”

  “You have no reason to fear me.”

  It’s not the smartest of ideas, but I lean forward. He might be able to reach out, despite the silver, and touch me. “Why not? Why will you attack and drain and kill others but not harm me?”

  “Do you wish to be harmed?” He tilts his head, a hint of amusement curling his lips.

  I hate his condescending tone. “I don’t enjoy pain or inflicting pain. My concern is with the safety of—”

  “Everyone else other than yourself.”

  My cheeks flush. “I don’t need a vamp psych, okay?”

  “Merely stating my observations.”

  “Well, observe this.” Standing, I whip out the gun and place the barrel against the middle of his forehead.

  “You won’t pull the trigger,” he says calmly.

  “Watch me,” I snarl, my rage getting the best of me. “We have two other vamps. We don’t need to keep all of you alive.”

  He holds unnaturally still. Is that their normal state? That they don’t move unless it’s necessary? Maybe they store up energy to be able to move so fast.

  With a growl, I press the gun harder against his forehead before pulling back and collapsing onto the seat again. “You won’t answer my questions? Fine. But I’m not answering yours either.”

  “Doesn’t matter to me.”

  Suspects don’t always talk the first time you ask ‘em questions. Sometimes it takes days. Sometimes it requires multiple interrogators. Sometimes you never know what will make them crack, and it’s more luck than anything else.

  Right now, it seems like none of the vamps will talk to anyone, least of all me.

  Still, I move onto the third vamp, Lucas, the one who wanted to drink from me. Just a small taste, he had said. How much blood do they require? I would guess that a sip wouldn’t be enough, so why would he only want a taste of my blood? Wouldn’t that make me sick like the lieutenant, like Calinda Moore?