“What do you think?” Tatum’s sudden words startled me from my trance.
“I’m not sure. I see a bunch a dead hookers and I think I’ve seen too many of those as of late. I see…,” I held the last photo up to get a last glance at it before stating my theory, “comfort.” Tatum looked at me like I was insane.
“Umm…okay,” she said confused.
“Not my comfort, his. I see him, his routine, all of it, is his comfort zone. He’s not fumbling around or fucking things up. He gets the kill, gets his blood, and gets gone. I think the kill happens somewhere else and then the body is dumped. I don’t think he’s drinking all of the blood, but maybe storing it somewhere for later. I mean really, how much blood can one consume before they get really sick? He can’t be gulping it all down in one sitting.”
“Well, who says he actually drinks it? All they know is it’s gone, no one knows if it’s being drank or not. Why would you assume he’s drinking it? You know there aren’t really vampires, right? I mean, this is just some guy, a regular sun-doesn’t-kill-him kind of guy. Who just might be killing hookers and taking their blood.” Even she looked confused after that one, and it came out of her mouth.
“The ME report from Hanford said they found saliva on the puncture wound.” I was straight forward with it. Real or not someone is killing people and taking their blood.
“Oh. Well, regardless, I don’t think one person can consume that much blood in one night. Do you know what that would do to you?”
“Iron makes you constipated.” I shrugged.
“Ouch. That’s a pretty hefty turd then.” She smiled and we continued sifting through the papers.
I came across the notes the file clerk had mentioned. They weren’t exactly police reports but they did have some key information. The first body was discovered by a handful of farm workers in the early morning hours on February twentieth, two months and seventeen days ago. She was discovered in a grape vineyard on Ave 12 and Highway 99. The second girl turned up around noon, two weeks later, the first of the dumpster girls, in a small alleyway near the community college in Fresno. The last of the Fresno girls was found on March twenty-fourth, not even two months ago. This was another dumpster drop. This dumpster belonged to a small apartment that housed mostly students. This guy was moving fast. At that point, it was about one girl every couple of weeks.
We’ve had two in L.A. in the last week.
A phone number was scribbled on the last note with a name: Shantressa.
“Hey you think this is a lead? Maybe?” I showed Tatum the phone number.
“Dude, call it. Ask for the girl and see what happens. Roll with it.” She was way too excited.
“Why do I say I’m calling?” I thought it was a stupid idea.
“Make something up,” she urged.
“You want to call so bad? You do it.” I shoved the paper and my phone her way.
“Fine.” She took the items and jumped from the bed.
Tatum dialed and I waited. She paced the floor as she waited for the recipient to answer. We waited in silence, for what seemed like forever, before someone finally answered.
“Hi, Shantressa?” She made herself sound young and dumb.
Perfect.
“This is…Landra…you don’t remember?” Tatum was listening intently. “Yeah, that’s right online.” I hated only hearing one-half of the conversation. I was standing right next to Tatum by this time trying to listen in. She hates that.
“Tonight? Was that tonight? Of course we can make it. What will you be wearing?” She paused to listen. “Me? Well…did you see that pic I sent you with that one outfit?” Long pause. “I never sent you a pic? Sorry, I thought I had. Well I think you’ll like it. Should I bring anything?” I could hear faint muffled sounds coming from the other end. “I can do that for sure. Oh, can I bring my friend? She doesn’t really have any friends and she follows me around everywhere, but she’s cool.” Tatum really never lost the high school mentality, that’s for sure. “Fuckin’ awesome dude. We’ll see you tonight. Hey, text me the address.” More muffled sounds. “Thanks, bye.” She hung up and smiled smugly at me.
“So?” I asked, with the patience of a two year old.
“We’re going to an underground party tonight. You’re welcome.” She handed my phone back to me.
“What did she say? Who is she? How does she know who you are? Or, aren’t?” I was full of questions and lacking all the answers.
“Calm down, calm down. She doesn’t know who I am. She runs an online chat room for… wait for it…vampires. She thinks I’m someone from the chat that she invited to this shindig. She has no clue who she invited. I’m sure it was a mass invite.”
“Wait,” I said.
“What?”
“What are we going to wear?” I felt the sudden fear in my stomach just like high school. Only this time I was going to show up not dressed like a freak and look like an idiot.
“Don’t worry we have plenty of time. We’ll just go shopping!”
“Great.” I rolled my eyes.
“There has to be a Hot Topic around here somewhere…”
Hot Topic, the epitome of dark loser-dom. Wonderful.
Well, four hours and two-hundred and fifty dollars later, we had our costumes. We were incognito tonight. We were no longer Dylan and Tatum, journalists from L.A. We were Landra and Charmaine, vampires from the underworld. Luckily, Tatum travels regularly with a bag full of make-up so she’d have us dolled up in no time.
“Do you think we’ll be okay tonight? I mean, no one is going to drink my blood or anything right?” I’ll admit I was a little nervous.
“No, you’ll be fine. I’m sure it’s just a bunch of stupid kids who think they are Dracula or something dancing around in their crushed velvet capes to moody music. We’re okay. Promise.”
“Ugh, okay. Should I call Mike first?” I asked not really wanting to.
“Will he approve?” she asked, as if she didn’t know.
“No.”
“Then, no.” At that, she shut the bathroom door and turned the shower on.
I sat for a few moments on the edge of the bed thinking about Mike. I knew I had to do something about him and me. I didn’t know what but I knew I had to do something. I loved him; that I was sure of. Did I need him? Not really. Did I want him? Well, that’s a story for another day. I was beginning to feel a little overwhelmed. All of this was too much for my boring little life.
Ex-boyfriends, dead girls, and vampires, oh my!
CHAPTER 17
Two hours and four pounds of make-up later, Tatum and I were the embodiment of vamp tramp. Clad in fishnet stockings and blood red lipstick, no pun intended, I looked as though I had just finished reading the latest vampire hunter thriller. Tatum donned a jet black, bobbed, wig that looked very similar to the one I had seen on the security videos. She stood atop black leather Mary Jane’s with a four inch heel.
“Where exactly is it that we’re going dressed up like Robert Smith?” I asked blandly.
“A small underground place in the downtown area. She said it was on H Street downtown. I’ll use the GPS, chill out.” She was far too calm.
“If Fresno’s Downtown is anything like Downtown L.A., I’d better bring my .38,” I said it completely seriously; I was actually being very honest about the situation.
“You won’t need yo’ gat, foo’! We aren’t gonna run into any Crips. Maybe some bloods.” She laughed at her own joke. “They’re vampires not gangstas.”
“You’re right. I’ll bring my wooden stake.” I rolled my eyes as I shoved my gun in my newly purchased handbag.
With that attitude, you’ll end up behind a dumpster before I will.
I immediately apologized in my head for what I had thought. Usually I don’t bother apologizing in my head, but this time my thoughts could end up becoming a reality.
“Are you ready, killer?” Tatum asked with her hand on the door knob.
“Well, shit, do I ha
ve a choice?” I was not looking forward to anymore vampire posers and their my-mommy-doesn’t-love-me bullshit.
“No.” And she was off.
I was betting my left tit that three things would happen tonight. One, my feet would fail me and I would fall on my ass. Two, Tatum was going to do something stupid. Three, someone was going to bleed. In no particular order, of course.
It only took ten minutes on the freeway to reach our destination. The establishment which we were scheduled to infiltrate seemed as though it had been hollowed-out and chocked up for parts decades ago. The metal roll up door was covered in graffiti and about a million wads of gum. Very colorful. The place looked void of life. I suppose that was the goal in an underground vamp club. I was very apprehensive, I was not a good liar when I was under pressure and I knew we’d be discovered as frauds and thrown out, or killed and drained of our blood.
What if these people were suspects in the Fresno killings? What if this turned out to be some sick Texas Chainsaw Vampire family and these kids were set to lure us to our deaths?
I was lost in worry when my foot caught something immobile mid-stride. I looked down to find an obviously drunk homeless man sleeping in the gutter. I apologized for kicking him, which meant nothing since he was unconscious, and kept moving. Tatum moved swift and confident to the side entrance I didn’t know existed. This was a normal door with a knob and all, though still metal and covered in graffiti as its big brother had been.
Side note: Downtown Fresno is a shithole.
Tatum knocked quickly three times on the metal door. I wondered if this was code or just chance. We waited impatiently for a few long moments before we heard movement from the unknown space inside. A moment longer and the door creaked open slowly. Very dramatic. No one appeared in the doorway which I assumed was intentional and far too annoying to seem cool in anyway. Tatum sighed heavily and pushed the door open to the point it slammed flush against the wall fully open. She was a stickler for grand entrances. I could hardly see, the space was so dark - only candle light it seemed. Tatum walked right in with no hesitation. I, on the other hand, took a more restrained approach. I slid my feet slowly, left then right, until I was just inside the doorway. The musty smell of long closed in spaces wafted into my nostrils. Under that was the smell of old rusty metal. My eyes darted side, to side trying to make out the gray figures I could see all around me.
“Welcome,” said a small voice from the dark. The door slammed shut and I jumped out of my undies. “Please join our Haven.”
A very small and pixie-ish blonde girl was standing behind us. She donned a long crimson dress, bound tight with a black corset. She moved toward us, allowing the train of the dress to trail behind her. She carried a red candle; its flame flicking around her pointed chin. She smiled eerily as she moved right up on us. My eyes widened as she stood on tip-toe and kissed Tatum on the cheek. Apparently Tatum was hip to the game and returned the kiss, planting one on either cheek.
“Madam.” The little pixie squeaked out before stepping toward me.
My face scrunched involuntarily, chin tucked to my chest, brows dropped, mouth tight. I wasn’t one for kissing strangers. Usually. Closing my eyes, I allowed the small girl to slide a light kiss on my cheeks.
“There is no fear here. You need not hide from your awakening, young vampire. We are all of the blood here, my love.” She was crazy sweet, overtly innocent, and very, very scary. “My name is Shantressa. We are so pleased to have you here this evening. Thank you for gracing us with your loveliness.” Her eyes, illuminated by the flame of the candle, skimmed me up and down. “Please, this way.”
Shantressa, the mini-vamp, held her arm at length, pointing toward an even darker area of the massive warehouse. Her long, pointed, wizard sleeve nearly touched the floor as she did so. I looked to Tatum who appeared to be having a blast. Tatum could have a blast during a colonoscopy so that doesn’t say much about the situation.
Tatum followed Shantressa, I followed Tatum, and I prayed no one was following me. We entered the darker area, not quite as dark as it appeared from the door. A handful of Goth clad folks were lounging around on large overstuffed floor pillows. More candles, red of course, were set on every surface available dripping red wax in long overlapping lines. Wax splattered to the floor, strangely resembling blood spatter. I wasn’t able to make out facial details of the others in the room. They appeared only as bulky shadows with long appendages that flopped lazily about. The lighting had served its purpose. I couldn’t see shit and I was a little creeped out.
“Please sit among us. Join us in bloodletting. Landra, I have yet to be introduced properly to your lovely friend.” Shantressa lowered herself onto the nearest floor pillow.
“Charmaine is her name.” Tatum spoke smoothly as she herself lowered to the floor.
I, on the other hand, stood towering over everyone. All eyes were on me, anticipating my response. Probably.
Nervous as I was, all I could manage was, “Hey.” I released a crooked smile, lifting my stiff arm slightly from my side to offer a halfhearted wave.
“Alright. Please sit.” No one else spoke but the small blonde. I thought perhaps she was the ring leader or spokesperson. She seemed an inappropriate vampire leader, so small and meek. Lord knows, this was all way outside of my spectrum of knowledge.
I obliged her request and proceeded to lower myself to the floor, which was much farther away from my ass than I had anticipated. My heavy body came down with a thud, chattering my teeth, and sending a chunk-shaking quake up my body. Smiling like an awkward freshman at orientation, I quickly lowered my face and scooted my ass to its original destination. Finally situated on the pillow I sat quietly and waited for further instruction.
“Thank you all for gathering here, our Haven, my Coven.” A new voice, much thicker than the little pixies, slid through the room. I turned quickly to discover a tall, nicely rounded girl standing directly behind me. If I were to have looked straight up instead, I might have seen up her nose. She moved quietly to take a seat next to mine.
“I see new seekers here tonight.” Her voice was far different from the innocent, soft, miniature one the pixie girl possessed. This voice was smooth and a little dirty, like whiskey. It goes down smooth, burns inside. “Good evening, darling. I am Sandora.” She spoke to me directly but never insinuated she required a response. Her name peaked my interest, but my thoughts were skewed by the following shock.
Leaning forward slightly, Sandora struck a match and tossed in into the center of the circle we formed with our seated bodies. A sudden rush of flame burst upward and outward licking us all with its intense heat. As quickly as it had appeared, it shrunk to a tolerable level.
“Can’t we die from carbine monoxide poisoning from the smoke?” I asked idiotically.
Every eye in the room turned to stare at me. I felt very stupid.
“There is adequate ventilation, if this concerns you.” The thick voice spoke into my left ear, sliding over my neck and shoulder with a chill.
“Okay, then.” I nodded quickly as though I was a fire marshal receiving satisfactory information.
“As we convene this night, keep in your hearts honor and respect. At this time, we will obtain life’s-blood from our chosen source. After which, we shall accept our newest seekers into our coven by process of bloodletting. Commence.” I sat in awe, unsure of the current process, and terrified at the thought of bloodletting.
“I’m sorry, what?” Surprise was plastered on my face along with a smidgen of fear.
“Landra, is this young lamb your source for the evening? Was she not made aware of the proceedings?” The thick voice held a tone of admonishment.
“She’s fine, madam. Only a little fear. My lover has yet to bleed for me. This was to be our first encounter together. My darling, it will be fine. You know I will not harm you.” Tatum assumed the role of little miss vampire in the blink of an eye.
“Of course, lover.” My nostrils flared as I spoke thr
ough my teeth and stared Tatum down. She had known this would happen all day and hadn’t said a word. She knew I’d never have come here if I’d known she’d be drinking my blood.
Doing what I could to keep up the façade, I moved to my knees and crawled to her with as much drama as I could muster. As I maneuvered myself to be seated before her, I snuck a glance around the room which was better lit. I could see faces. All of which were doing one of two things. Either, A: Stuck to a now open wound, or B: Staring at me. Sandora was the face nearest mine, aside from Tatum. She was beautiful. I hadn’t seen her in the light before this moment. As I looked into her eyes, I could see in my peripheral vision, Tatum produce a small silver blade.
Where the fuck did that knife come from?
My head turned away from her as she kissed my shoulder and whispered,
“I’m sorry. You have to know.” At that, she ran the blade across my bare shoulder creating a long, thick, fissure. I winced and felt my warm blood run slowly down my arm. Sandora smiled and blinked her aquamarine eyes, slow and deliberate. I felt Tatum’s tongue run smoothly up my bicep to the wound on my shoulder. Where there once was blood now felt cold with wet saliva. Sandora, seemingly pleased, took on the task of producing blood from Shantressa. I understood the dynamic of the coven at that moment. Well, sort of.
Tatum’s body was warm next to me and her mouth was even warmer. Sandora used a very long knife to cut a gash in the little pixies thigh. I closed my eyes before the blood arrived. It was bad enough my best friend was tonguing my shoulder; I really didn’t need to watch that.
It felt as though an eternity had passed since I had opened my eyes. Tatum was working the bloody wound and I hoped it wouldn’t scar. I decided then and there that I was going to leave there with actual knowledge or I was going to fucking snap. I heard many sounds as my eyes were closed in avoidance. Mostly sucking and giggling. Then, finally, I heard the sounds of contentment. Heavy breathing, laughing, and whispers filled the room. I drummed up enough courage to open my eyes. I allowed one lonely eye to open, to peer around the room. Most of the groups were either done slurping or just finishing up. To my dismay I caught a glimpse of Sandora and Shantressa enjoying themselves far too much. I quickly closed the only eye I allowed to open and turned my head toward Tatum. I could feel her breathe on my face and opened my eyes, both of them. Her brows rose, as did her eyes, to meet mine. Slightly disgusted at the sight of my friend of twenty years latched onto my bleeding body, I adjusted my shoulder so she wasn’t right up in my face any longer. A few moments later, she removed her mouth from my skin, looked softly at the pink flesh, and kissed it again. Her blue eyes lifted once again to meet mine. Her face held a request for forgiveness. This was by far the strangest situation she and I had ever gotten ourselves into. I still wasn’t sure if she had intended on this particular event or not. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know.
The Scene (Dylan Hart Odyssey of the Occult Series) Page 14