by Maria Arnt
“I’m not talking about revenge. I’m talking about justice.”
He sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “Justice?” He eyed her warily. He appeared to recall their conversation in Missouri and didn’t like the idea of having his words fed back to him.
Tanya took a deep breath. She’d actually been thinking about it a lot. “Yes, justice. If I’m going to continue hunting vampires, this seems as good a place to start as any. Might as well send a message in the process,” she explained.
Seth stared past her for a long moment. “You know, I might have turned him if I hadn’t been busy getting ready for you,” he said vaguely.
She bit back the urge to be offended, somehow she knew he wasn’t blaming her. “Did you love him?”
His gaze focused on her once more. “No,” he said sadly. “It’s been a long time since I let myself fall in love with a human,” he admitted. “But he had such potential...”
“Well, then it’s not revenge, is it?”
“No,” he agreed with a small, sharp smile. “It shall be retribution.”
It was at this moment they heard the sound of Beatrice returning home. It didn’t escape Tanya that Seth had obviously given her the passcode for the front door, although he still kept it, and the code for the garage, from herself.
Pushing her irritation aside, Tanya hurried out of Seth’s room. Beatrice stood just inside the door, examining the damage with wary apprehension.
“Hey,” Tanya called, “It’s okay, we’re safe,” she reassured her.
Beatrice relaxed incrementally. “What happened?”
“Seth got some bad news and took it out on the furniture,” she explained in a whisper, although she knew he could probably still hear her.
This seemed to relieve Beatrice, who dropped her small bag next to the door and immediately began picking up the mess.
Seth came out of his room, somewhat more composed. “That’s not necessary,” he said, almost looking embarrassed.
“I don’t mind,” Beatrice said cheerfully, but she stopped for the moment. It was obvious she wanted to ask, but held her tongue.
“One of my friends has been killed,” he said hoarsely. “A human.”
“Oh I’m so sorry...” she looked around at the carnage, clearly wondering at its extent as Tanya had. “Was he... in service to you?”
Seth shook his head. “Not officially. I didn’t mark him. He wouldn’t have objected, I think, but I’ve always found it demeaning.”
“Mark him?” Tanya asked. She had a feeling he wasn’t talking about leaving wounds from feeding.
“Each Master has a mark, a symbol, and if they particularly like a human, if they want sole rights to feed on them or they plan to turn them at some future date, they have the mark tattooed on them, usually on the left wrist,” Beatrice supplied, her tone conveying that she agreed with Seth’s dislike of the practice.
“Like branding?” Tanya wrinkled her nose.
Beatrice nodded.
Seth sat on an end table that had miraculously survived his wrath and pushed a shaky hand through his curls. “Gods, I should have done it, though. He was reckless.”
“So it was another vampire?” Beatrice guessed.
He nodded. “They didn’t even bother to hide it.”
She seemed to consider this. “You don’t suppose... even if he wasn’t marked, they might have known he was a favorite of yours?”
Seth looked up. “You think Michael did this? To lash out at me?”
“It would be his style,” she agreed ruefully.
He thought it over and then shook his head. “If it was done on my turf, then yes, I would agree with you. But it was on neutral territory. They had that much tact, at least.”
“I suggested we investigate,” Tanya put in.
Beatrice nodded. “It wouldn’t be good to let something like that slide. The Master of whoever did it will need to reprimand them.”
Tanya looked to Seth, who shook his head surreptitiously. They were going to kill the responsible party, but Beatrice didn’t need to know it.
“And while you’re out, I’ll get this all cleaned up,” she added, cheerful once more.
“That really isn’t necessary,” Seth said, although he seemed to be wavering. “I’ll have someone come and clear it out tomorrow morning, buy some replacements...”
“Nonsense,” she set to work, collecting the shards of wood and scraps of leather. “I’m here, and I’m not going to be doing anything while you’re out, I might as well make myself useful.”
Seth sighed. “If you like. Call if you need anything.” Fishing his keys out of the shattered mess of the bowl he usually kept them in, he gave Tanya a dark, expectant look.
She nodded, adrenaline coursing through her veins already.
“Seriously?” Tanya leaned forward to get a better look through the windshield.
The gaudy neon sign above them read, as she had suspected, “Love at First Bite.” The V and E in “Love” had been lengthened to look like a pair of fangs.
“Is this what I think it is?” She looked at Seth, eyebrow raised.
He gave her a rueful smile. “Welcome to Love’s, Chicago’s premier vampire club.” Unbuckling his seatbelt, he got out of the car.
Checking the sign once more, she scrambled out as well. “Yeah, but it’s not a real... I mean... fangs.” She gestured to the sign.
He shook his head. “The proprietors have no idea. It’s aimed at humans with a vampire fetish.”
Tanya made a face. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
Seth shrugged. “The current fascination in the media offers us a great deal of protection, but this is one of the downsides.”
She followed him towards the front door. “So why are we here?”
“Justin thought it was funny. Apparently, he wasn’t the only one. In addition to the costumed idiots, it’s a popular hangout for donors and junkies. It’s supposed to be ironic.” Seth sounded very disapproving.
“The whole thing sounds stupid,” she grumbled.
“Indeed. Especially since, on occasion, it attracts the real thing.”
Tanya shot him a shocked look. “Who would eat here? Is this supposed to be like slumming or something?”
“If only. No, I’m afraid it’s much worse. If a real vampire comes here, they’re looking for someone who will... appreciate what they really are,” he winced.
She frowned. “Then why not find a donor?”
He hesitated with his hand on the door and pulled back. The loud music within was enough to cover their murmured conversation from anyone else passing by. “Because they’re not looking for consent, Tanya. They’re looking for fear. To these people,” he waved a hand at a goth-clad couple as they exited the club, “we are a fantasy. Imagine the terror if one of them were to discover the reality, in the worst way possible.”
Tanya swallowed, nauseous with memories. Hold her, I wanna watch her face.
Seth stepped closer, his expression softening. “We’re not all like that, Tatiana.”
She glanced up, meeting his eyes. “But that’s what I’m here for, right?”
“What?” he frowned.
“To kill monsters like that.”
He blinked. “Yes. And so you shall.”
“Let’s go then,” she said, and pushed through the door.
27
Three hours later, Tanya found herself leaning against the wall in a line which supposedly led to the bathroom, but hadn’t moved in some time. Not that she really minded, since she wasn’t there to use the facilities anyway. But after living alone for so long, and then with Seth, it was weird being surrounded by the chatter of female voices. It made her realize how quiet Beatrice was.
The music wasn’t nearly so loud back here, which was a relief and let her listen in on conversations more easily. And the things she heard....
“And then he actually said ‘I vant to darink your bloood.’ I mean really? Bela Lugosi? He would have had
better luck with Leslie Nielsen.”
“Are my fangs in straight? They feel like they’re crooked. I keep biting my lip.”
“I think wearing a scarf is kind of cheating, really. I mean, it’s not like it’s hard to make bite marks, a little concealer and some lip gloss can be pretty convincing. “ This one Tanya found particularly amusing as she was fairly sure that the girl being gossiped about was actually a genuine donor, based on the suspicious glance they had exchanged in passing.
She had split up with Seth because he had the same general effect on the crowd that a shark has on a school of fish. None of them appeared to be directly avoiding him, but nevertheless, there was always a sizable gap between him and the nearest patron.
Here it was much easier to go unnoticed, and she was more likely to actually hear something important. But after an hour or so, she started to worry that Miss Scarf was the only donor present.
At last, her section of the line moved into the bathroom proper. Tanya began brainstorming another way to get the information they needed, and almost missed an exchange between two girls at the sink.
“Are you sure? He seemed so handsome,” a tall brunette sighed.
“Yes, Sheila, I’m sure. The fangs were a dead giveaway. I told you that,” her friend replied as she checked her weave in the mirror.
It wasn’t much, but the two girls weren’t dressed in the usual gaudy costumes, either. She kept her ears open as they were joined by a third girl who had just left her stall.
“Oh my god, Kelly did you hear the news?” she whispered as she turned on the faucet.
Kelly frowned. “Yeah. Poor guy.”
“So awful!” the new girl lamented. “He was such a nice guy.”
“I told him not to go to that party at Johnny’s,” Kelly turned to Sheila. “Stay away from Italian suckers,” she advised. “They’re bad news.”
“What happened, Jasmine?” Sheila asked.
“This really nice guy got snuffed,” the third girl said conspiratorially. She finished washing her hands and went to get a paper towel.
“They didn’t even bother making it look like an accident,” Kelly shook her head.
When the line shifted, Tanya took the sink that Jasmine had left and turned it on. “Are you guys talking about Justin?” she whispered conspiratorially.
“Did you know him?” Kelly asked suspiciously.
“Not very well. Red hair, kind of a hipster, really tight pants?”
Kelly relaxed. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Any idea who it was?” Tanya asked.
“Somebody at Johnny’s, I’m sure of it. Poor guy, he was really turning into a junkie. I heard he ran into his first, and the guy had actually made somebody.”
“Ouch,” Sheila winced.
“Yeah, it really cut him up,” Kelly agreed.
Something inside Tanya twisted. Could it really be because of her that Justin got killed? “Who’s this Johnny guy?”
Apparently, she had asked the wrong question because Kelly and Sheila both turned to look at her like she was crazy. Jasmine, who had been eying her from the paper towel dispenser, finally came forward and put a protective hand on each of her friends’ shoulders.
“You’re looking for one of Johnny the Fox’s crew. Go tell your Master that, although it won’t do him much good.” Jasmine stared her down.
Kelly blinked and gave Tanya a closer look in the dim bathroom light. “You could have just asked,” she muttered, and she and Jasmine turned to go, dragging Shiela with them.
“Was that a real—” Sheila glanced back over her shoulder.
“Yes, shut up, we’re leaving,” Jasmine hissed, and then they were gone.
Feeling awkward, Tanya finished washing her hands and checked the mirror to see if anyone had been listening in. Surprisingly, no one seemed terribly interested, even though Jasmine had said ‘Master’ rather loudly.
This place is weird. She shuddered.
She found Seth sitting at a well-lit table, which seemed odd until she realized all the dark corners were already taken. “Let’s go,” she said as she walked up.
He gave her a surprised look, but got up and followed her out. She waited until they were in the car to give him the name.
For a long time, Seth said nothing, although the steering wheel creaked with the force of his grip. At last, he hissed some foreign expletive and started the car.
“She said it wouldn’t do us much good to know?” she asked cautiously.
He sighed, pulling out into traffic. “Johnny isn’t the oldest or strongest vampire in Chicago, but he is the most powerful, politically speaking. You said you wanted to send a message, I don’t think you could pick a better target. Johnny owns Chicago.”
Tanya frowned. “Is he a businessman?”
“Of a sort. Some say he invented syndicated crime. Of course, he’s more of a behind-the-scenes force now, but he’s run this city since he took it from the Black Hand in the 1920s.”
“Wait,” Tanya turned in her seat to look at him. “The one girl said something about Italians. Are we talking about the mafia? Like Al Capone and all that?”
He chuckled. “Tanya, he hired Al Capone. Back then he was known as Johnny Torrio. You remember I said this town has a long history of body disposal?”
“You meant Johnny’s crew,” she realized.
“Precisely.”
“But then Justin’s body...”
“Was left in an alley,” Seth growled as they pulled up to a red light. “Sloppy and disrespectful. I...” He closed his eyes and took a long breath.
“What?” she whispered, curious but afraid she might provoke another tantrum.
Seth leaned back against the headrest. “Gods, I should have marked him.”
Tanya made a face. “He wasn’t your slave,” she argued.
He sighed. “It would have been for his protection. But yes, it did imply ownership. If a vampire killed a marked human, though, their life was forfeit.”
Tanya gazed out the window. “And you think whichever of Johnny’s goons killed him would have known that?”
“It wasn’t a child that killed Justin,” Seth murmured. When she turned to look at him, he went on. “Johnny keeps a tight rein on his children. He would never tolerate that kind of mistake. But he has reached a precarious age for a Master vampire. He was already a Master when he came to America in the late 1800s, so he would be three, maybe four centuries old now. Some of his first children have emancipated. He barely remembers fearing the sun. He feels... invincible, like nothing can stop him. So he starts acting out, pushing the boundaries to see where they push back.”
“Sounds like a teenager,” Tanya scoffed.
“Precisely.”
She considered that thought for a long time. “How old was Etienne du Lac?”
“About a century older, but in much the same phase,” Seth reasoned.
“And the population spike you talked about, in the 1800’s?”
He nodded, following her train of thought. “They will be coming to this age soon.”
“Great.” Tanya slumped in her seat and chewed on her thumbnail. As if the increase in numbers wasn’t concerning enough, soon they would all start acting out. It would be like the 60’s, except with vampires instead of hippies. She didn’t want to think what the vampire equivalent of Woodstock would be.
“How soon do you think I can be ready to kill Johnny the Fox?” she asked.
The steering wheel creaked again. “Very soon.”
They were both too restless to return to the apartment and face Beatrice’s judgment, so Seth suggested Tanya might as well feed. He seemed to take a long time choosing a venue, driving across town and halfway back again. He parked the car in a private garage, and then they walked through a couple miles of alleyways to reach their destination.
Although she was curious, Tanya didn’t ask about his odd behavior. Seth seemed distracted, drawn into himself, and for all she knew this wandering was just his w
ay of working out his anger. It wasn’t like she was in a hurry to feed anyway.
It wasn’t until they left the club through the back door, taking an entirely different route back to the car, that it started to raise questions. Was Seth looking for something? Trying to test her sense of direction? Avoiding someone?
As this last idea crossed her mind, Tanya caught a whiff of something on the chilly Chicago night air. Among all the scents—melted snow and salt, oil and exhaust, the river a few blocks away—one specific human caught her attention. It didn’t seem terribly familiar, but she could swear she’d smelled it before, and recently. It was almost like deja vu.
“Tatiana?” Seth murmured as if concerned.
It was only then that she realized she had frozen in place. And then the pieces clicked together. “We’re being followed,” she stated.
He sighed. “Yes.”
Leaving the question of why he hadn’t told her for later, she focused on the issue at hand. “I smelled him earlier, at Love’s. Can’t be one of Johnny’s, there’s no way they can know yet. So who...?”
Seth gave her a long, assessing look. At last, he gestured to the alley behind them. “Why don’t you find out? You’ll need to re-learn stalking, you might as well start now.”
She made a face but recognized the truth in his words. She didn’t need to kill the human, but trailing him undetected would be good practice.
“You go on,” she whispered. “I’ll drop back and tail him.”
After a brief hesitation, he nodded and started back down the alley. Tanya tucked herself into a doorway and waited, listening. Seth’s nearly inaudible footsteps and slow, even heartbeat drifted away. Before long, they were replaced with the heavy, shuffling steps of someone who couldn’t quite see their way in the dark, and a quick, nervous pulse. The difference was almost comical.
She held perfectly still until their pursuer had passed, and then ghosted out behind him. He was short, had dark hair, and wore a dark blue jacket. He had one hand out to feel for obstacles, the other hovered near his hip, where a small holster hung.
He moved quietly for a human, quickly darting from one cover to the next. He was so intent on following Seth that she didn’t need to make much of an effort herself. As long as she stuck to the deeper shadows, she could follow him effortlessly. Something seductive poured into her veins, and because she had just fed, she recognized the animalistic thrill and kept it in check. She wouldn’t let herself get lost in the hunt. But she might enjoy it a little.