I'm on TDY from Hell
Page 15
Alfred held an access card to the electronic reader beside the heavy exterior door. She could have walked in the front if she wanted, but she liked to keep a low profile. The local, state, and federal government didn’t take kindly to young girls running nightclub empires.
The door clicked open and she was met by Elisa.
Elisa was a pretty thing, which was why Vicky had turned her in the first place. Her skin was pitch black, but death made it look chalky. Her assets were perky and respectable, her dark hair silky and smooth, complete with a heart-shaped face you just couldn’t help but want to kiss. Unfortunately, she was as prude as an unmarried woman on the Mayflower, so Vicky had slotted her into an administrative position. Elisa’s attention to detail, near OCD attitude, and accounting degree from Duke made the young whore manager indispensable.
“Ms. Vicky.” It always looked weird when Elisa addressed her like that because Elisa was at least physically five years older.
“We have a problem. I know.” Vicky cut to the chase. “Take me to him.”
That thought made her smile as Elisa led the way through the club. Even through the soundproofing she could still feel the pulse of the music, the clatter of feet dancing, and the pulsing of blood through hundreds of people’s bodies. The sensation was intoxicating, but she’d spend a lifetime beating back the desire to open up a human’s jugular on a whim. Killing indiscriminately was a good way to get caught and killed.
But unlike the movies it wasn’t easy to kill a vampire. A stake through the heart or beheading worked, but at night their skin was as strong as granite. They were only vulnerable during the day, but where sunlight weakened them it also gave them camouflage. You wouldn’t be able to tell a normal human from a vampire on a balmy Carolina summer day, which was half the reason she’d stayed in Charlotte to begin with.
Wannabee hunters didn’t think to look for her kind in a place like Charlotte.
Back here about a half dozen people lounged. A young woman sat in the corner with an IV in one arm with a tube in the other dribbled blood into a golden chalice. When the chalice was filled it was passed around the room like a bong in a college dorm room.
The human’s head was resting on the headrest and her eyes were rolled up into her head. The IV was a potent combination of drugs and fluids designed to keep her alive while they drained blood from her. Vicky recognized the woman as a regular donor, and she also recognized that she’d was nearly tapped out.
“Enough! “Her voice cut through the small group’s laughter like a fart at a funeral. “Cut her off, get her hydrated, and send her home.”
The group looked at her like she was a party pooper, which she was, but she held their gaze and raised her hackles. This group from her coven was all young rebels with a leather fetish. If they pushed, she’d show them real bondage. She’d done it before.
Reluctantly, they expertly removed the needles from the woman’s arm and started to nurse her back to health. It would be days before the young lady was good to go again, and she wouldn’t be allowed back into the club until she had a clean bill of health from a vampire approved doctor, who just happened to be Alfred.
With a tilt of her head Alfred got the message and stayed to oversee the rest of the woman’s treatment while Elisa and Vicky continued on.
This back section of the club held a few rooms like the one occupied by the BDSM gang. This club was one of the safe spaces set aside for her coven to come, feed, and let their vamp flag fly. But it was also a place where she held court and ran shit like a boss. For that she needed dedicated places to politely question certain individuals about their wrongdoings.
One such place sat next to her usual office for ease of access. Elisa opened the door and stepped back so Vicky could enter first. The second she stepped into the light of the room’s single hanging bulb the room was filled with laughter.
Even though the sound made her bristle, she was used to it by now.
“Oh baby, you had me worried there for a minute.” The man zip-tied to the chair looked like a child rapist and a used car salesman got together and did the nasty. She could smell from here that the guy was about five years from needed his arteries unclogged.
“Mr. Smith,” she looked down at the name on his driver’s liscense and raised an eyebrow. “If that’s not a fake name then I’m a virgin,” she laughed.
“Honey, baby, we don’t need this to get ugly. My employer will look the other way for a sweet thing like you. So untie me and show me to your boss.” The guy smiled, and didn’t expect the slap that caught him across the face.
She’d found getting slapped in the face had a primal reaction for humans, especially if it was done by a woman. It was an act that took them back to their childhood, to their momma smacking them for being stupid, or teaching them to not touch the hot stove. The act of slapping registered deep in a human’s psyche, and it told her a lot about the person’s inner fortitude.
The way Mr. Smith reacted told Vicky that he was a low level worthless sack of shit.
“I’m going to ask you again, Mr. Smith. Is that a fake name?” Influence and power leaked through her voice and into the man’s mind.
It was a trick that Vicky hadn’t figured out how to utilize until after her hundredth birthday, and one of the few things pop culture got right about her kind. As a Soulless vampire she could compel people to do what she wanted or answer her questions. They had to be weak of mind and spirit, but even if they weren’t, a little T&A helped push them along to do her bidding.
She didn’t even have to show a little leg to get Mr. Smith talking.
“It is a fake name.” The shit eating grin the greasy man had been wearing a second before turned into confusion.
“No shit.” She backhanded him back across the face just to see his eyes water. “This will be a lot easier if you just tell me the truth.”
“Kid, I don’t think you know who you’re messing with. Just…”
She interrupted him by placing the heel of her stiletto against his nuts. Mr. Smith squealed like a little piggy, and it was her turn to laugh.
“Answer my questions and I won’t turn you into half a man. Understood? Don’t speak just nod.”
The man nodded.
“Good boy.” She patted him on the head like a dog. “Who do you work for?”
“Come on lady, you know I…”
She lowered the heel a fraction of an inch and the man jerked violently, which only brought his nut further into contact with her heel.
“Who do you work for?” Compelling people was exhausting, and she didn’t want to do it unless she had to.
“Juarez sent me. For fucks sake the Cartel. They wanted me to scope out the area for possible expansion.” The man practically cried.
“See, that wasn’t so hard.” She removed her heel from his groin and then straddled him to sit on his lap.
“What’s your name?”
“Mikey, but they call me Big Mike.”
She laughed at the statement. It was such a bad line. She could feel him getting aroused at her proximity and there was nothing big about him.
“I’ll tell you what Big Mike.” She looked him in the eye while she grabbed a fistful of his unwashed hair. “I want you to send a message back to the cartels.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you want.”
The man screamed and struggled but it was useless. She sucked at the wound and the blood shot into her mouth from the arterial spray, but it wasn’t the blood that was important. It was the life in the blood, the
very essence of humanity that a Soulless vampire couldn’t naturally produce. She sucked the life out of the cartel’s errand boy one gulp at a time.
“Get a bowl or something. We can’t let this go to waste.” She pulled her bloodstained face away from the man’s neck and blood sprayed onto the floor. His struggles were growing feebler as he bled out.
Elisa appeared next to her, her fangs fully extended, and held a container to the wound.
“Why did we bring this guy in again?” Vicky hadn’t gotten that far into the conversation before ripping the assholes throat out.
“He was selling substandard product in the club.” Elisa was practically drooling over the liquid sloshing into the container, but she was restraining herself.
“Hmm, then this is fitting punishment.” Vicky hopped off his lap and started to wipe her face clean. “Go ahead and have some.”
Elisa face was in the man’s throat before Vicky finished speaking. The man gave a weak mumbled of resistance before going limp. The aroma of freshly shit pants started to fill the room.
“Elisa…Elisa…ELISA!” Vicky grabbed her whore manager by the hair and pulled her back.
A century of practice made Vicky’s feeding relatively clean. Elisa was the opposite. Blood coated her face, shirt, and was even in her hair.
“Get a hold of yourself.” She pulled Elisa away from the dearly departed Mr. Smith. “Skin this fuckface and then dump his body near the border. Hopefully the cartel will get the message and stay out of Charlotte. We might even be able to pin another murder on the pack of mutts roaming around out there.”
She smiled to herself.
“I’m going to shower and get ready for school tomorrow. Homecoming is coming up and I’m going to be queen…again.”
Reconnaissance
“Jesus Christ!” Caroline’s chest heaved up and down from the workout. “Did you just get out of prison or something?”
“Something like that.” Gerry smiled as he stepped backwards into the warm water.
The shower was spacious and tiled in an expensive off-white marble. There was a raised portion at the end opposite the showerhead that Caroline was using as a seat while she used a washcloth to wipe herself off.
He looked around and smiled. The fogged up glass door still had smudges where her perky nipples had been pressed up against it during their ruckus morning sex. Several times last night had not been enough for the newly freed Dux , but judging by the young whore’s wincing she’d reached her limit.
He felt his appetite rising again, but he calmed himself with a few deep breaths. The feeling of satisfaction after release was something he hadn’t felt in two hundred years. It was all he wanted to feel right now, but he had work to do. Prince Seere had entrusted him with an important mission, and all missions started with reconnaissance.
“Thanks for stopping by, Caroline.” He took her hand and gently brushed his lips against it. “Please see yourself out when you are finished.”
“Yeah…ok.” She hesitated.
“Don’t worry about the bill. It has already been taken care of. I have an arrangement with Vicky.”
“Yeah…sure. Well, it was nice to meet you Gerry. Let me know if you want to hang out again.”
It was a weak sales pitch, but he’d fucked her so long and hard she had to be exhausted. They hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. The last thing on her mind was convincing a client to have even more sex with her.
He stepped out of the shower while she continued to clean herself. He’d made a mess all over her. The fluffy towel felt wonderfully soft as he toweled off and went to look at himself in the mirror. A ruler, strong and powerful looked back at him. He could feel the power collecting in him from the demesne. It had been leeched from the city all night long and was just waiting to be used.
He was nowhere near as strong as when he was an Infernal Knight. At least not yet, but he was more than powerful enough to deal with a few measly humans.
The demesne conjured up clothing that came to mind, but he guessed most of it was centuries out of date. The only modern pieces of clothing he’d seen were what his lieutenants had been wearing and the black track suit he’d been given.
Those were either too fancy or too casual for what he had planned. He needed something in the middle.
“Caroline!”
“Yeah?” She poked her towel-wrapped head out of the bathroom.
“What would I look good in?”
If things were the same as when he was human the best fashion advice came from women.
“Are you asking for fashion tips?”
He could see her decision making process in her eyes as she decided if this was chargeable time for her.
“Yes, please.” His words were polite but his tone had a bite to it.
“Honestly, if you had a beard you’d have the sexy lumberjack look down.” She smiled coyly.
“And how would such a lumberjack dress.” Despite his mindset, he couldn’t stop his own smile from being suggestive.
“Jeans, plaid shirt, boots, and a light jacket for this weather.” The demesne read her thoughts as she imagined him in her mind.
“Like this?” He pulled the exact faded dark blue jeans, red, white, and blue long-sleeve plaid shirt, dark brown work boots, and dark brown leather coat she’d been imagining.
“Holy shit…” her jaw dropped.
“Thank you, Caroline. I am leaving soon so please make sure you’re ready to go in the next few minutes.” He turned his back on her and shrugged into the clothing, ignoring the frown on her face.
He didn’t have the beard, but he could grow it out a little bit over the next few days.
The elevator bell dinged in the other room and he felt Jeb’s presence lingering just outside his demesne. “Come on in, Jeb. I’ve got a few questions.”
“Yes, my Dux.” The demon of greed entered and waited patiently until Gerry exited his room. Then his face soured. “That outfit is rather casual.”
“Relax, Jeb, I need to blend.”
“Blend where, Sir?”
“That’s the question I need answered.” The living map of the city denoting the various factions rose from the formal dining room table. “Where does the Salvatore family spend their days?”
“Sir, I don’t think…”
“I’m not asking for your thoughts, Jeb.” Gerry cut him off with a snap. “I’m asking you for the Salvatore’s location.”
“Taking them on at this point would be unwise, my Dux.” Jeb corrected himself.
“I don’t plan on taking on anyone. I’m just going to gather a little information. Have you ever heard the saying information is power?” Gerry asked.
“Yes, Sir.”
“It’s true to an extent.” He pointed at the table and gestured for Jeb to do what he was told. “Information is the gateway to power. Information alone is nothing, but action taken because of information not only exercises power, but accumulates it.”
He had seen Generals make the mistake of having good intelligence but not acting on it during his centuries with the legions. When they didn’t act people died. When they did act, less people died.
“Here, my Dux.” Jeb pointed at a section of high-end retail stores about two miles from where they were standing. “The Salvatore’s have several business fronts throughout the city, but they are peddlers of fine tailoring. I would suggest you start there.”
“Then I will.” Gerry smiled, and gave Jeb a pat on the back. The smaller man practically cringed from the contact. “Caroline!”
“Geez, I’m coming.” The whore stepped out of the bedroom with her hair still wet and looking frazzled. “You could at least let me use your blow dryer.”
He knew what the contraption was, but he’d never seen one and was pretty sure there wasn’t one h
ere. He wasn’t about to use power to manifest something the woman had at her own home.
“Goodbye, Caroline.” He gestured for her to enter the elevator, and the operator took her away.
“Be careful with Victoria’s minions, my Dux. She’ll do anything to get her fangs into you.” He scowled at the closed elevator door.
“Play nice, Jeb.” Gerry lightly reprimanded him. “She has considerable assets right now. More than you.”
Jeb’s face flashed pure hatred before he got it back under control. “That is not true.” He fiddled with his already perfectly straight tie to try and pull attention from his reaction.
Gerry sensed that was the truth, and waited for him to continue.
Jeb pulled out a manila envelop from the confines of his jacket. “Here are your documents, my Dux. You have a birth certificate, driver’s license, US Passport, a Social Security Card, tax documentation dating back seven years, and the deeds to all the property.”
Gerry pulled open the folder and pulled out the top document. “Gerald Fuller.” He smiled at seeing his human name for the first time in centuries.
“Of Boston, Massachusets, my Dux.”
“You’ve done your research.” Gerry pocketed the driver’s license and tossed the rest of the documentation on the table.
“And then some.” Now Jeb was smiling. “Here is a debit card and some cash.” He handed over a sleek piece of plastic and a roll of hundred dollar bills. “There is three million dollars in the account. It was all I was able to get without drawing human suspicion. I can assure you, my Dux, our resources are far vaster than that.”
Gerry only knew the abstract value of that much money so he simply nodded.
“I also have information on your backstory.” Jeb continued, still eager to please. “We based your identity off your own mortal family.”
“That’s impossible. I was an only child and I died without children.”
“Not entirely true.”
Gerry barely contained the shock.
“You had one illegitimate son from a woman who worked in a marketplace.”