“What an intriguing offer!” Elsbeth clasped her hands together.
If you didn’t know her like I did, it was a delightful gesture. But I’d seen her do the same thing after snapping a man’s spine in two.
“Release my human or I will kill Mr. Diapers.” I hardened my voice. With three vampires against me I’d die, but after leaving Ben unprotected it was the least I could do.
The sumo wrestler chuckled.
Fucker.
“Let him go, Junior,” Elsbeth said airily.
Junior pressed his nose against Ben’s cheek, inhaling.
Fang grabbed my arm but I pulled it loose. I’d had it with this night. Someone was going to get hurt and it wasn’t going to be Ben.
“Junior, release!” Elsbeth’s voice sharpened.
With a grunt, the sumo man let go of Ben. His weight still pinned Ben. My personal assistant used his fingertips for traction against the counter to slip out from under him.
Idris slid a chair under him and Ben collapsed in it. Immediately Mr. Figgles sprang up into his lap. A touch of color returned to Ben’s cheeks.
This kid deserved hazard pay. I doubted he found vampires so enticing now.
“Thank you.” I bowed my head again. “There is the murdered shifter, a family member of the sheriff that I found upon arrival. He’s still in the back room.”
I wanted to get rid of them. But Elsbeth’s Victorian morals made this tricky. She was a stickler for etiquette. If I was too obvious she’d only delay her departure.
Idris spoke for the first time, stepping forward. “That’s whose blood you are wearing. I never remembered you being such a messy eater before. Trouble follows you, Dr. Silverthorne. It is good to have friends. The human expression ‘many hands make light work’ seems applicable here. Please show us the crime scene.”
I’d been around for two centuries which meant I had an excellent bullshit detector. It was screaming ‘red alert’ now. Idris’ little speech didn’t intimidate me. He wouldn’t leave his London lair unless he wanted something badly. He’d arrived with Elsbeth, which meant trouble.
“No one but me is going in that room until I have secured all the evidence,” I said.
Idris placed his hand on Ben’s shoulder. It was a not-so-subtle reminder that my human was surrounded by three vampires.
“Excellent idea, Idris!” Elsbeth stepped forward too. “Do show us what happened. We will help.”
“The evidence will be trampled,” I said.
“Come now, Silverthorne, we may not all be physicians like you and Idris, but I’ve seen many death scenes.”
It was three vampires against one vamp and a shifter. Not good enough odds. I swallowed. All my earlier saliva had long since disappeared. Now my mouth felt like I’d not drank a pint of fresh blood in a century.
And here I’d been worried about Fang contaminating the scene earlier.
“Know any assassins that use piano wire?”
“He was garroted?” Elsbeth jumped in place in excitement. “I’ve not seen a garroted death in years. In the early part of the nineteenth century it was in fashion among the Italian court.”
This was my first garrote, which meant Elsbeth might have something to share. Fang wasn’t going to be objective about Griz’s death so his help as a sheriff was questionable right now.
Ben sat dazed in his chair. His usual perfect posture dissolved into a slouch. His clothing was rumpled. His hair mussed. A few years back, Ben had done a few print ads for a trendy men’s clothing line in LA. He still dressed the part though no more work had come his way. Good thing no mirror was nearby—he’d have a fit over the deterioration of his appearance tonight. He gave his head an uncharacteristic shake as if he had a head injury. Concussion my ass.
That asshole Junior had glamoured him or tried to. It’s difficult enough among skilled vampires. Junior was a fresh vampire and had amateur written all over him.
It was likely Ben had a migraine from his attempt.
There was no doubt in my mind, I would stake Junior in retaliation. At this rate it wouldn’t be tonight or even tomorrow night as all fresh hell spun loose in front of me. But make no doubt about it. Elsbeth wasn’t going to be able to protect him forever. Nobody messed with my human.
“Junior can carry him.” Elsbeth said, reading my thoughts. “No harm will come to your human.”
Ben shuddered. He’d had more than enough contact with Junior for tonight.
I squelched the impulse to go to Ben. That would only be a sign of weakness on my part among the other vamps.
“No,” I said. “Ben can wait here with Mr. Figgles.”
My assistant nodded but didn’t make eye contact with me. He continued petting Mr. Figgles, who had sprawled on his lap. It’s bad when your spoiled shih tzu is your backup protection plan.
Behind me, Fang muttered. I wasn’t sure what but something along the lines of what a bad idea this was. He’d long recovered from my little kick but even in his grief he knew we were outnumbered. And he knew from personal experience Elsbeth meant trouble.
I grabbed more paper plates off the counter before opening its hinged section. I stood aside as Elsbeth passed by me first. She could have easily fit under the counter space. Idris filed by next. As always, I felt a chilly familiarity near him. Junior had to turn sideways to fit through and still it required some serious gut sucking in on his part.
With everything else going on it was still hard to believe he was actually dressed like a Sumo wrestler ready for the ring. His only concession to the climate was a giant pair of Ugg boots.
I glanced back at Ben again. I was furious over what happened. The thought of another vampire draining him overwhelmed me. But I’d have to leave my vengeance for later.
Elsbeth, Idris and Junior passed through the door marked ‘private’ and waited by the door to Griz’s room. Fang entered and I slipped in after him, tossing my makeshift floor mats.
“Looks like someone broke down his door to get to him,” Idris observed, studying the door we’d damaged earlier from our contact. “Were there any other signs of a forced entry?”
“It’s safe to assume the front door to the motel is always open,” I said, thinking that the last thing I needed was so much help. And I really didn’t want anyone focusing on the broken door.
As I suspected, Fang didn’t really believe Griz was dead until he saw him. He pushed past me to hold the dead shifter in his arms, sitting in the pool of Griz’s blood, vainly trying to keep the shifter’s head attached to his body.
Damn. That tugged the heart that no longer pumped.
And so much for my pristine crime scene.
I did notice a faint sheen to the walls in this light. They’d been smeared with glitter? Griz did not strike me as a crafter. Was this Glytr?
If so what was it doing here?
He was an unlikely candidate for being a drug mule. He’d spent his life preserving the sanctity of this paranormal-only community.
Junior started twitching, emitting a rumble that sounded like a train engine. His eyes bugged and he frothed at the mouth. His large fists clenched. He moaned again.
“Get him out of here!” I moved to crouch before Fang and Griz, realizing what was wrong with the big sumo
Vampires can’t drink shifter blood. Physically we can but it causes us to be violently ill almost immediately. It’s our equivalent of humans being intolerant to lactose or gluten.
Unfortunately, some relatively new vampires just go ape-shit over fresh blood whatever the source. That’s where the maker comes in. Like an alcoholic needing a sponsor, the maker steers their new creation to better choices.
Or not.
“Elsbeth, get control of him. Now.”
Junior was still on the opposite side of the bed, but one leap and he’d be on us.
Elsbeth’s voice piped up from behind her creation. He completely blocked her. I couldn’t see her, yet she alone could stop him with a command. I’d just seen her do t
hat minutes ago.
“In all my years of parenting, I’ve learned experience is the best teacher,” Elsbeth said.
Junior was three times my size.
Even if I was going to let Junior rip into Griz, which I absolutely wasn’t, Fang was covered in Griz’s blood. In Junior’s bloodlust, Fang could be a casualty. He wasn’t at the top of his game now.
With a snarl I leapt at Junior.
He hadn’t anticipated me or maybe no one ever really fought back against him.
He eagerly jumped forward like a dog snapping his leash.
We collided in midair.
My plan was to tackle him. Even with the element of surprise and me pushing with all might, it didn’t make much effect.
We fell onto the bed. Luckily he landed first and I fell on top of him. Not only did the bed collapse but the floorboard underneath cracked.
I rolled away from him but he grabbed me by my hair, pulling me back to him.
Junior was looking for a fight. I wanted to get him out of the room, away from Fang and Griz. We grappled on the uneven splintered bed. The sumo wrestler wrapped one meaty hand around my throat. He struggled with his weight, reminding me of a turtle on its back.
He was trying to snap my neck.
Using my go-to move, my stiletto-heeled boot made contact with his genitals.
I never wondered before if sumo wrestlers wore athletic protectors but now I’m pretty sure they don’t.
Junior gasped, letting go of me. His hands instead went to his crotch, and he let out a wail. Now I was going to find the nearest object resembling a stake and finish this fucker off.
I started crawling off the bed, only to be grabbed by my ankles and flipped onto my back.
Idris.
“Leave him alone, Silverthorne. He’s not worth it.”
I snarled, swinging at Idris. I’d been dying to hit him since I saw him. So much past business left between us fueled my anger, and I knocked him off his feet.
Who was he to tell me what to do?
Elsbeth stood by the door, smirking. I was half surprised she hadn’t gone out to the kitchen for popcorn but she probably didn’t want to miss anything.
The sumo wrestler rolled off the bed. My neck was sore from his half grip. If he had used both hands, I’d be a goner.
Fang was lost in his grief for Griz.
“I could use some help here.” I reached over to a shattered bedpost, snapping the broken spear off. The end I held was still smooth but the other end was a jagged wooden stake.
The sumo wrestler’s eyes widened. He wasn’t used to weapons beyond his body.
Even as a young vampire, he couldn’t survive contact with a stake.
I raised my arm.
That’s when everything went black.
4
I woke up the following evening, in the freezer of the Nowhere morgue with one hell of a headache. Griz’s corpse on the slab next to me.
There weren’t more bodies here than the two of us. Someone’s quick thinking, most likely Ben or maybe Fang’s, had correctly guessed this would be a safe place for me to spend the day. Since I was alone with Griz’s corpse, I assumed my human and shifter were alive.
There was one big problem though.
Griz was missing his head.
The last thing I remembered was the chaotic motel scene.
I did a cursory search of the morgue for Griz’s head in case it was misplaced but that seemed very unlikely. The dated morgue was unchanged from ten years ago. But that was Nowhere—the place where apparently time stood still.
The main refrigeration unit ran against one wall. Perpendicular to that was a wall of shelving and cupboards. In the center of the room was a stainless steel exam table with surgical lights overhead. Everything was turned off now, but at least the room had potential for decent task lighting. Underneath the table was a grated drain and hose for cleaning up after the autopsies.
The third wall had more shelving and a short counter next to the morgue door. The morgue was underneath the clinic and adjacent to the jail. I could still see the exposed brick wall through a small interior window. The final wall led to the cluttered morgue office. Judging from here, I guessed the computer system in there was ten years old too. I wondered if there was a microscope here but given how the whole place smelled musty and forgotten, I doubted the condition would be good if one were here.
My state of the art lab in Los Angeles might as well be on another planet.
Right now, I needed to check in with Ben. There wasn’t much I could do without Griz’s head anyway.
I hated this feeling of chaos churning inside me. I loved order. This was why pathology was such an excellent fit for me. Coming to Nowhere was like driving a car with no brakes.
Elsbeth had some serious explaining to do too.
It was a short ten-minute run to the motel on the outskirts of town. The cold night was brisk, so I pulled up my collar and tucked my chin down. A few vehicles passed me, but no one seemed to care that a female ran along a county road in black street clothes.
Despite the cold, I felt better to be outside and moving. The activity helped organize my thoughts. I needed to assess first and not react to the crap-fest I’d gotten myself into.
It had been easy to find our room with my car parked out front. Again, it was the only vehicle except for Griz’s truck. “What the hell happened?” I burst into my motel room.
So much for my Zen-like calm.
“And why didn’t you lock the door?” I demanded.
The Nowhere cheap beige walls and generic western prints made this look like any other motel in the western US. The rug’s funky smell was even a combination of sweat, dirt and ground-in tortilla chips.
Ben didn’t look up from his iPod. “No point in locking the door when everyone around can just knock them off the hinges. Besides, I knew you’d be by. Sleep well in the morgue?” He smiled, enjoying his little game of knowing more than I did. He could enjoy having the upper hand for the remaining few seconds. The only good news as far as I could tell was that he appeared to be feeling better.
Mr. Figgles opened one eye where he dozed on the end of the bed. I ran my fingers through his curls. I was glad to see him unharmed after last night, but he’d need a trip to the groomer again. At the rate he was burning through them in LA, I might have to glamour someone.
This was not a thought I ever expected to consider in two hundred years of living as a vampire.
“Thank you,” I said stiffly. Vampires aren’t big on gratitude. I didn’t like this changed dynamic between us where he knew more about what was going on than I did. “You’re unharmed?”
“Mild headache but nothing beyond that,” Ben said, returning to his iPad.
“Welcome to the club,” I muttered. “Are you going to tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to glamour you?”
Ben glanced up, his brown eyes twinkled. “No one’s dead, well besides Griz. But man, some serious shit went down after you got knocked out.”
I clenched my fists. I hated showing any sign of weakness. Payback was going to be a bitch to those three vampires.
“Go take your shower, I know you want to. I’ll come and update you after I send this email.”
Ben knew that after a day in a crypt I loved a good hot shower—it was the closest I got to being alive lately. I left the bathroom door cracked as I stripped. Mr. Figgles popped his head in the space, eyeing me curiously.
Dear Mr. Figgles. It was tough not to admire something with that much disdain packaged so charmingly.
I shoved my dirty clothes through the door before turning to adjust the water temperature to the highest heat possible.
“I’m still waiting to hear why I woke up in a morgue next to a headless corpse,” I called.
“I’m right here. You don’t have to shout,” Ben said. “I didn’t see everything. I was still pretty out of it in the other room.”
“But?”
“From what I can pu
t together, Sheriff Fang knocked you out so that you wouldn’t fight everyone and die in the process. The English guy took exception to the sheriff hitting you so they got in a fight. The little girl had to break them up.”
“She’s not a child.”
Ben whistled. “The one who looks like a fanged Alice in Wonderland tried to keep Mr. English and the sheriff apart. During that distraction, the sumo wrestler made off with the motel owner’s head.” Ben paused. “And I have not been doing mushrooms again. I swear that is what happened.”
Considering the players involved, it sounded all too likely.
“Why would the sumo wrestler want Griz’s head?”
“Souvenir?” Ben suggested.
I sighed. I could hear him sober up from the other side of the curtain. “I’m sorry,” he said. “It was all just so bizarre. It still feels unreal.”
To me it felt all too real. The hot shower was not doing much to improve my mood.
Mr. Figgles growled.
“Be right there,” Ben called.
Fang was here. I smelled him.
I delayed turning off the water, drying and donning the same thing I wore everyday: black cashmere turtleneck, black leggings and my black leather boots. I blew dry my long hair. Even if I was in Nevada, I still had standards. The blasted heat from the hair dryer bolstered me. Slightly.
The mirror was fogged over and useless to me anyway. My clothes changed over the centuries, but my body remained the same.
I left the bathroom, and an unfamiliar feeling of awkwardness flickered through me. It was the way I always felt around Fang, a curious mixture of dread and anticipation.
“How’s your head?” Fang raised his hand when I exited the bathroom. If he was going to touch me, he wisely let his hand drop. Griz’s blood was mostly gone from Fang’s beloved duster styled coat but I could still smell faint stains. Those would never be gone.
“I should file assault charges.” I pointed to his battered face. “You’ve looked better. That all Idris’s work or did Junior get in on the action?”
Fang touched his bruised jaw. He also sported a black eye and a split lip. Needless to say, he still looked sexy. “Your Limey boyfriend jumped me from behind. Damn, I forgot how hard you vamps play. If I was hit by a shifter, I’d be good as new.”
The Undead Detective Bites Page 4