by Parker Blue
“You’re my daughter, too, sweetheart, you know that. In every way that counts.”
I blinked back the moisture in my eyes and shook my head. I very much wished it were so, but though he had always tried to treat us the same, the fact was, he couldn’t—Jen and I were too different. Mom didn’t even try.
He added quietly, “And your mom doesn’t love Jen more. It’s just that you remind her so much of your father . . . .”
Yeah, and I knew how much Mom hated the way my father’s lust demon had seduced her, had forced her to feel desire. Would I be forced to pay the price for what my father had done for the rest of my life? “I’m not like my father,” I snapped.
“I know that. Just give it time, Val. This’ll blow over eventually.”
I shrugged, unwilling to let him know how much it hurt. “Who cares? I’m eighteen now. I don’t need any of you anymore.” And I couldn’t take the heartache.
“Oh, yeah. Happy—”
I glared at him, and he was wise enough not to finish that particular sentence.
Sheepishly, he pulled something from his pocket and held it out to me. “Here, we got you this.”
I glanced down. It was a cell phone . . . with a little red bow stuck on it. They hadn’t forgotten my birthday. Tears pricked against my eyelids again. I turned away. “No thanks. I don’t need anything from you.”
“Don’t be stupid, Val. You’ll need it, to find a job, a place to live, keep in touch . . . .”
He was right. With no friends and living at home, I hadn’t really needed a cell. But now I would. And it wasn’t like it was charity or anything. Reluctantly, I reached out to take it. “Okay.” Realizing that sounded a little churlish, I added, “Thanks.” After all, I knew he meant well.
“It’s pre-paid so you won’t have to worry about the bills for awhile. And here.” He pulled an envelope out of another pocket. “Here are your wages from the store . . . along with a little bonus.”
Now that, I’d earned. I stuffed the envelope and the phone in my duffel. “So, you’ll give me a good reference?” I asked around the lump in my throat.
“Of course we will.” He paused. “Do you know what you’d like to do? I have some friends—”
“No.” That would be charity. “I mean, I’ll find a job on my own. I found out last night that the cops aren’t as clueless as I thought when it comes to the vampires. Maybe they could use some help.”
“Is that wise?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“The reason you hunt vampires is to give the succubus an acceptable outlet for the lust—”
“I know that,” I snapped. Lust for the hunt wasn’t nearly as satisfying for Lola, but it kept her pacified. Even more important, it helped me live with myself the next morning.
Ignoring my interruption, Rick continued, “But if you let the demon free that often, you’ll give the succubus a lot more dominance.”
“So?”
“So will you be able to handle that?”
Damn him, he actually looked concerned. And it was a good question. Could I handle it and stay human? Or would the demon’s constant freedom give it more control? “I’ll have to handle it, won’t I?”
Rick froze for a moment, looking as if he were struggling with himself, then said softly, “If you need any help with sparring—”
“What? You’ll piss off your wife and help me out? Yeah, right. I’ve got a life-sized picture of that happening.”
I wasn’t being fair, and I knew it. When I’d almost drained that poor boy of all his energy, Rick had been very patient with my rampant hormones and raging succubus. For awhile there, I’d been like a cat in heat, and the neighborhood boys had sniffed around me like rutting tomcats.
That’s when Mom had changed, had started treating me like something less than human. Rick, however, had helped me to channel the demon through martial arts courses. He’d even let me take out my frustrations by trying out my fighting skills on him—once he was sufficiently padded, of course.
I’d gone looking for trouble, too, sneaking out at night to search for scumbags and rapists to take out my frustrations on. But pounding on full humans didn’t quite do the trick, so when I ran into a vampire the first time a year ago, I’d been elated. Finally, there was something I could really sink my teeth into . . . so to speak.
And Rick had helped me research the undead, learn how to deal with them. I owed him. “I’m sorry. I know you helped me. A lot.” Especially since Mom had been in complete denial and unable to deal with her daughter’s awakening sexuality—no help at all.
He raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t you ever wonder how I knew what to do?”
“Uh . . . no.” I’d just always assumed my stepfather was the smartest man in the world, especially when it came to the woo-woo stuff. After all, he owned a new age bookstore. “How?”
“When you were twelve, a man visited your mother and me. Said he knew what you were and gave us some advice on how to help you handle your powers when they manifested.”
Really? “How did he know?”
“He wouldn’t say, but it was obvious he knew what he was talking about—he was part lust demon, too.”
“Whoa.” My head reeled from a total major shift in world view. “There are others like me?” Then again, why wouldn’t there be?
“Apparently.”
“And you never told me?” It might have helped me live with my oddness if I’d known there were other energy-sucking demons in the world.
“You were doing well, so the three of us decided it would just confuse you if you did know. He stopped by from time to time after that to give me more pointers on how to train you to fight the vampires.”
Though my head was spinning with hundreds of unanswered questions, only one emerged. “Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because you’re going to be giving the succubus a lot more control. If you have trouble handling it, maybe he can help.”
Even talking to someone with the same type of demon might help. With excitement rising within me, I asked, “What’s his name? Where can I find him?”
“His name is Lucas Blackburn. But I don’t know how to contact him—he always found us. And I haven’t seen him at all since you started fighting vampires.”
I nodded slowly. “No problem. I’ll find him.” I didn’t know how or where, but I had to know how he knew about me, why he’d helped me.
Now that Rick had dropped that bomb, he left, closing the door gently behind him.
I dropped into a chair, stunned, and Fang nudged me with his nose, looking concerned. ARE YOU OKAY?
“Yeah, I’m okay.” I hugged him, grateful for his consolation as my mind tried to make sense of this new information.
Mom had always discouraged questions about my father, and I’d never really wanted to know about the demon who’d spawned me, especially after what happened the day he killed himself. I figured I knew all I needed to. But now, I wasn’t so sure. If there were others like me, maybe I wasn’t as alone as I thought.
Who was Lucas Blackburn, and what other secrets might he reveal?
CHAPTER THREE
Now that I was all packed, I stood next to my bed and stared at my duffel bag. I wasn’t quite sure what to do first. Find a job, an apartment, or Lucas Blackburn? They all seemed equally important.
Fang pawed at me. FOOD AND SHELTER FIRST.
I jumped, not quite used to him reading my thoughts yet. But he had a point. It would probably be a good idea to find a place near where I ended up working, so I’d just find a hotel or something for the night, then something more permanent once I got a job. I glanced down at Fang. One that took dogs.
GOOD PLAN.
I grinned. He was gonna be a lot of fun to have around. I pulled out the Yellow Pages and called around. Holy crap—I never realized before how expensive hotels could be. At this rate, I’d go through my savings way too quickly. No five star hotels for us—I could only afford one or two. I found a relatively inexpensi
ve one that took dogs and we headed that way, with my duffel on the back of the Valkyrie and Fang in the front.
After a brief hassle at the front desk over my lack of a credit card, I paid cash and got the key to the room.
The place looked like it hadn’t been redecorated since way before I was born—with an orange and green color scheme, tired bedspread, threadbare carpet, and a chipped bathtub.
I dumped my duffel on the dresser and Fang sniffed disdainfully. I had to agree. I didn’t have his nose, but I could still smell stale smoke and the acrid stench of urine where previous animal occupants had staked their territory. I wouldn’t be going barefoot on this carpet.
DON’T USE THE BEDSPREAD EITHER, Fang advised, curling his lip at it.
Ew. I didn’t want to know why. Unfortunately, I could imagine all too clearly. I scootched the slick bedspread off the bed with my foot and kicked it into the corner. The sheets appeared clean. As I looked doubtfully at them, Fang gave them the sniff test.
ALL CLEAR.
I sat down on the bed and looked around, my heart sinking. Is this what I had to look forward to, being on my own?
My chest grew tight. I just wanted to go home. Unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. Now what? I had so much to do . . . and so little experience in doing any of this. What was I going to do? Give me a vampire to kill and I was totally there. But ask me to fit in somehow in the real world as an adult? I wasn’t sure I was ready.
Fang jumped up next to me and nudged me. THIS IS TEMPORARY. BESIDES, YOU’RE NOT ON YOUR OWN. YOU HAVE ME.
That I did, along with an even greater incentive to find a job, with two mouths to feed. I pulled out the Yellow Pages and tore out the section that listed bookstores. Fang declined to stay in the room by himself, so I bundled him up in my vest. It was too warm during the day, even in October, for the vest, but it was the only way I was sure Fang would be safe.
We headed out and I drove to the closest bookstore—an independent like Mom and Rick’s—and parked. Unzipping my vest, I glanced down at my black shirt, suddenly sprouting dozens of light reddish blond hairs. “You shed.” Note to self: get a lint roller.
SORRY, Fang said, sounding kind of embarrassed. NOTHING I CAN DO ABOUT IT.
“No biggie—I’ll just try to remember to wear Fang-colored clothes.”
Brushing the dog hair off as much as I could, I said, “Do you mind staying out here? I don’t think dogs are allowed inside.”
He gave a mental sniff. DISCRIMINATION. But he stretched out next to the Valkyrie and laid his head down with a sigh.
Unfortunately, they didn’t have any openings. And three bookstores later, I was beginning to get discouraged. I straddled my motorcycle in front of the Rolling Oaks Mall on the outskirts of the city, trying to figure out what to do next. It was nearing closing time and no one was hiring, though they’d had me fill out applications in case there was an opening later.
Heck, even if I did find a job, bookstore clerks didn’t get much better than minimum wage. If apartments cost as much as hotels, I was in big trouble. Not to mention everything that went with them, like utilities and food and stuff. Could I file for unemployment?
FIRST THINGS FIRST. I’M HUNGRY.
So was I. I glanced down at Fang. “What do you eat?”
WHATEVER. MICE, GOPHERS, WHAT I CAN FIND IN THE TRASH. I’M AN EQUAL OPPORTUNITY EATER.
Ick. TMI . . . though I had asked. “You want dog food?”
He shuddered. ICK, he repeated back at me.
What did you feed a hellhound? “So, if you had your druthers, what would you eat?”
PIZZA. I’M A PIZZA-LOVING FOOL.
I couldn’t help it—I grinned. He was practically salivating at the thought. “Any particular toppings?”
LOTS OF MEAT AND CHEESE, NO ONIONS OR PEPPERS.
The thought of a hellhound putting in such a specific order for pizza amused me. “Okay, you got it.” I went back into the mall and got a couple of slices for us at the food court, plus a Coke for me and water for Fang.
We ate dinner under a nearby tree and I wondered what to do next. I really didn’t want to go back to that hotel room just yet, and it wasn’t dark enough yet for the vampires to come out to play. Maybe I should get a paper, check out the help wanted ads. But what else was I qualified for? It’s not like I had a lot of experience . . . or education.
YOU CAN KILL VAMPIRES.
“Thanks, Fang. I know you’re trying to be helpful, but I don’t think there are any paying jobs out there for that.”
TOO BAD. I LIKE KILLING VAMPIRES.
I grinned, then suddenly realized I was wrong—there was a job out there for that kind of thing, as I’d mentioned to Rick. That detective last night had one . . . and he’d asked me for tips. Maybe I could get a few bucks for passing on what I knew to the cops, help them with training or something.
Fang raised one eyebrow without lifting his head off his front feet. SO CALL HIM ALREADY.
Why not? His card was still in my vest pocket, so I pulled it out and used my new cell phone to dial his number.
“Sullivan.”
Now that I had him on the line, I wasn’t quite sure what to say. “Hey, there, detective, it’s Val Shapiro.”
“Who?”
“You know, Val Shapiro. From last night?”
“Oh, yeah,” he said in recognition. “You’re the kid.”
I grimaced at the “kid”—he wasn’t that much older than me. “Uh, yeah. That’s me.” Geez, could I sound any lamer?
“Whatcha need?”
“Uh, well, I wondered if you might want to hire me. You know, to give you some pointers or something.”
He hesitated. “That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
Oh, crap, I’d forgotten about the male ego. He probably wouldn’t want to take advice from a girl—not about something as macho as fighting the undead. I was gonna have to play on his sympathies. “Well, you see, I didn’t get my sister back home on time last night, and my parents got pissed and kicked me out of the house.”
“Whoa, that’s cold.”
“Yeah, they fired me from my job, too.” Before he could say anything else, I added, “So, you know, I kind of need a job and you seemed interested in what I could do . . . .” I trailed off, realizing how pathetic that sounded. “Hey, never mind. I’m sorry I bothered you. I’ll just—”
“Hold on just a minute. I might be able to do something for you. How old are you again?”
“Eighteen.” My stomach lurched again as I realized it was still my birthday. It sure didn’t feel like it.
“Good. Can I call you right back?”
“Sure.” I gave him the number and hung up. “So, Fang, you think he’ll call back?”
HE’D BE A FOOL NOT TO.
Yeah, but would he call?
CHILL. HE’LL CALL.
I sighed. “I wish I had your optimism.”
I didn’t move from under the tree, afraid I’d miss hearing the call on the Valkyrie. Fang and I waited for what seemed like forever, but was only about an hour, before the phone rang again.
I wasn’t used to it, so it startled me. It wasn’t from any phone number I knew, so hopefully it was the cop. I fumbled a bit before I figured out how to answer it. “Hello?”
“Sullivan here. Hey, have you got time to meet some people now? I may have something for you.”
Really? Cool! Ignoring Fang’s TOLD YOU SO, I said, “Sure. Where?”
He gave me directions to a building near one of the cop shops and I headed over there with Fang, wondering what the detective had in mind. I was feeling pretty optimistic, but I reminded myself he didn’t actually say the “something” was in law enforcement. It might be something unrelated, though I hoped he didn’t expect me to clean toilets or run a register where I had to ask, “You want fries with that?”
The address he gave me had a sign designating it as the Special Crimes Unit. Things were looking up. At Fang’s insistence, I brought him in
with me. “Try to look inconspicuous,” I suggested.
He just dropped his jaw in a doggie grin and followed me inside. “I’m here to see Dan Sullivan,” I told the lady at the desk.
She gave me a disinterested look and paged him. I don’t think she even noticed the hellhound at my feet.
The detective did, though. He came through the door, glanced down, and said, “What’s with the dog?”
“He’s uh, you know, one of those special assistance dogs.”
Fang didn’t seem happy with my explanation. WELL, THE SPECIAL PART IS RIGHT, ANYWAY.
The detective raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t buying it. “And what does he assist you with?”
I glanced warily at the desk lady, not sure how much I should say. “The same thing you caught me doing last night.”
“Oh? I didn’t see him then.”
That’s because I hadn’t found Fang until later. “Look, it’s a bit too cold to leave him outside. Fang is very well-behaved, I swear.”
Dan looked down at the dog. “Fang?”
Fang concentrated on looking cute and obedient, though privately he said, MAKE FUN OF ME AND I’LL POOP ON YOUR NICE CLEAN FLOOR.
Don’t you dare make a liar out of me, I warned him.
DON’T WORRY—I’LL PLAY THE NICE LITTLE PET.
Sullivan shrugged. “Why not? We’re training other dogs to sniff out these targets. Follow me.”
I followed him into a large room that looked like a high school gym—must be some kind of training area. Three other guys were there, just talking, and they looked up as we came in.
To keep from having to go through the whole dog-challenging thing again, I told Fang mentally, Play along with me here, okay? Out loud, I said, “Sit. Stay.”
Fang planted his butt immediately and stayed put as I walked toward the men. YES, MASTER, came the exaggerated response.
Very funny. But just remember who provides the pizza. If you don’t want to continue dining on vermin, work with me.
One of the guys—a beefy blond with his hair shaved close to his head—took a look at me and barked out a laugh. “This is your super slayer?”
Sullivan just smiled. “This is Detective Horowitz, and the other scuzzy is Fenton.” He nodded toward a lean Hispanic man who was a little older, a little grayer, and seemed to carry the weight of the world—or at least San Antonio—on his shoulders. “And this is our fearless leader, Lt. Ramirez.”