“I’ll call you a cab.” I reached for the phone on the table between the sofa and the recliner. “You can retrieve your car tomorrow once you’ve extracted your foot from your mouth.”
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” he asked, pouting as he crunched through another cookie. “What if you need a midnight snack?”
“Midnight has come and gone, Vin.”
Chapter Fifteen
I did not want to go back to East St. Louis, but when I woke up Monday night and had to listen to Laura’s reenactment of my appointment with Dr. Townsend, and her own personal assessment of my mental health, I couldn’t bring myself to accept another of her disgusting cow concoctions.
My pride was fragile enough after the incident with Vin. He hadn’t picked up his car yet, and I hadn’t found the nerve to call and check on him. If he were half as embarrassed as I was, we probably wouldn’t be talking again anytime soon.
I could still taste his blood in my mouth. Even after brushing my teeth. It wasn’t an unpleasant flavor, but rather a constant, nagging reminder that I couldn’t have more. Not now. Maybe not ever. At least not from Vin—which turned into another reason for the return trip across the river.
Let the punks try me this time. They wanted to talk? I’d talk…over dinner.
The aggressive line of reasoning wasn’t like me. It brought to mind my first appointment with Dr. Townsend and her initial assessment that I didn’t have a chip on my shoulder. That I wasn’t the kind of person who would rough up a suspect just to get my jollies. Had becoming a vampire changed me so much? Or was this restless rage coming more from being put on the bench and not having a lead to continue my unsanctioned investigation?
I parked the Bronco in front of the meat shop and adjusted the Glock in my shoulder holster before jumping out and heading across the street. It was just after ten, and the owner was wiping down tables inside, the sign already turned to Closed behind the barred front window. I knocked on the door, and his head jerked up.
“Get out of here,” he yelled, waving his arm at me as if he were shooing off a stray cat. Then he pointed past the front window, toward the far corner of the store. “That’s your fault, girl. I don’t need any more trouble.”
I took a few steps back, off the sidewalk and past the curb into the street, and looked up at the face of the building. The security lights were angled oddly, and I realized it was to distract the eye from the fresh graffiti dripping down the brickwork.
Wite Bred Sold Her.
I wondered at what age these thugs had dropped out of school. It was hard not to feel at least a little sorry for them…but I tried to push the thought out of my mind. I was hungry. And given a chance, I knew what they’d do to me. Sympathy wouldn’t make the meal I was after any easier to stomach.
I stepped back up to the curb and knocked on the door again, pulling out three hundred dollar bills and waving them over my head for the world to see. The shop owner made a pained face, but the money finally lured him in. He unlocked the door and grabbed my arm, yanking me inside.
“It’s gonna cost more than that to fix my store,” he grumbled as he dragged me past the counter and through a doorway into the back room. “Every time you drop in, the hoodlums is gonna tag it.”
I dug my heels in and pulled my arm out of his grasp. We couldn’t be seen through the front window now, which had been part of my plan. Of course, my vehicle was probably bait enough.
“I’m sorry about your store,” I said, guilt catching up with me. He seemed like a decent enough guy, and I hated being a source of strife for one of the few businesses that were actually making it in this neighborhood.
He glared at me and then opened the door to a walk-in cooler. “How much you need this time?”
I stopped at the threshold of the cooler and gaped. One entire wall was nothing but shelves and shelves of blood. With a stash like that, he had to know what he was getting himself into. And he had to know someone who could help answer all the questions I had.
“How many customers buy blood from you?” I asked, taking one of the clear containers from a shelf. I popped the lid open and gave it a sniff.
The man held his hand up and looked away from me. “Don’t…don’t do that in front of me.” He swallowed and took a half step deeper into the cooler.
“How many?” I repeated, trying to keep the authoritative cop edge out of my voice.
“I don’t know. I don’t keep track of ’em.” His eyes darted back to me, and he scowled. “Some are just passing through. They stop in once, and I never see them again. Others are regulars and come in every week or two.”
“You have names for these regulars?”
“No,” he snapped. “But even if I did, you think I’d turn them in to a cop?” He folded his arms, and his eyes narrowed. “You can’t be comin’ back here, girl. It ain’t good for you, and it ain’t good for me. Don’t you have a friend the right color that could pick this up for you?”
My mind paused on Will, and it felt like a sucker punch to the heart. I wouldn’t have asked him to do something like this for me. Not in a million years.
I held the hundreds out to the shop owner and downed the container of blood, ignoring the disgusted face he made as he took my money. I grabbed two more of the containers as we left the cooler and headed back toward the front of the store.
“I won’t come back again,” I said as he bagged my purchase. I’d figure something else out. I didn’t need the extra collateral damage on my conscience. I was drowning in enough guilt.
“Mmhmm.” He gave me a skeptical frown as he led me to the door. “You be careful out there now.”
The streets were empty. I heard voices echoing from several blocks away, and then the sound of glass shattering. Laughter followed. A trace of weed and burnt motor oil lingered in the air. If I waited around long enough, I was sure I’d get what I’d really come for. But the cow blood was already taking the edge off my hunger, even if it was settling heavily in my stomach.
I climbed inside the Bronco with a dejected sigh and dropped the bag of blood on the passenger seat. As I put the key in the ignition, something sharp bit into the side of my neck. A hand clamped down on my opposite shoulder. My vision shot through with red, and I could suddenly smell rancid breath and the week-old body odor of the thug who’d found his way into my backseat.
“Did you miss me, Becky?” He snickered in my ear as his dull pocketknife grated uncomfortably against my skin.
“You have no idea,” I whispered, my hunger shifting gears as it mixed with fear and anger.
I snatched his knife hand and dragged his arm forward. Then I turned my head, sinking my teeth into the bony pit of his wrist. He gasped, and his opposite hand squeezed my shoulder tighter, fingers digging into me until I was sure they’d leave a bruise.
The flavor of his skin was distinctly different from Vin’s. For one thing, there was no chemical film of cologne. Which was nice. But the layers of stale sweat and the gritty taste that I guessed accumulated when one went days without washing their hands triggered my gag reflex.
Before I’d drunk very much, he released my shoulder and slammed the palm of his hand into the back of my head, rattling my teeth as they ripped free from his skin.
“Crazy bitch!” he screamed. He threw open the back door and fell into the street with a grunt. Blood sprayed from his wrist. He clutched it to his chest, staining his gray tee shirt as he scrambled back to his feet. Jeans that were two sizes too big slipped down his hips as he took off down the alley that ran between the meat shop and the abandoned laundromat next door.
I considered letting him go…but something deep in my gut screamed for more. The compulsion was too much, like a wild creature programmed to give chase if their prey ran. I was out of the Bronco and in the alley a second later, my blood vision locking on to the thug’s throbbing heart. I could see it through his back—through his ragged tee shirt and dark, slick flesh that gleamed with the moonlight anytime it touched him through
a gap in the buildings.
“Oh, fuck,” he whimpered as he glanced over his shoulder and let go of his wrist long enough to hike up his pants.
I moved like a shark through water, gaining speed as I closed in on him. My canines were still extended. The blood coursing through me felt like a drug, and for a moment, I was sure if I pushed off the pavement hard enough, I would fly. The urge to try it was strong. I counted down my steps, deciding I would. Three, two—but as I put both feet together for my final push, a boulder swept through the alley and crushed me against a dilapidated building.
My feet left the ground, but not in the victorious way I had envisioned. Uneven bricks dug through my shirt and scraped my spine. I hissed and snarled, feeling all the more like a wild animal, before finally taking a good look at the abomination that had spoiled my hunt.
Special Agent Roman Knight’s icy blue eyes bore into mine. His unruly white hair glowed like a halo around his face, dressing him up as the Angel of Death. His left forearm lined my collarbone, pinning me to the alley wall, and his opposite hand wrapped around my left wrist, pinning that to the wall, too. My other hand clawed at his meaty shoulder, shredding the fabric of his black turtleneck.
“Where is your sire, vampling?” he whispered through gritted teeth. “House Lilith will not abide this indiscretion.”
The mention of House Lilith added panic to the toxic cocktail of emotions lighting up my insides. It gave me the needed focus to pull my knees up and push my feet off of Agent Knight’s chest. The energy I’d built up for my flying lesson hadn’t dissipated. It expelled itself into my captor, sending him soaring into the building on the opposite side of the alley.
I landed on my sneakers and tore off without waiting to see how he’d fared against my assault. Maybe he wasn’t a vampire, but he was strong. Stronger than he should have been. Mandy would have warned me if he were a werewolf. I wasn’t sure what else there was though. I didn’t want to know.
The only thing I needed to concern myself with now was getting home and packing my bags. The jig was up—and a lot sooner than I’d expected. Mandy and Laura would not be thrilled, but I’d deal with their outrage over my carelessness later. Once we were safe in a hotel some three hundred miles away from here.
Chapter Sixteen
“You are the lousiest vampire I’ve ever met.” Mandy paced my bedroom as I stuffed a handful of random undergarments into a duffle bag. I paused to extract my strapless bra from the mess of clothes and threw it back into the dresser drawer. Who needed a strapless bra when they were on the run?
“Pack first, bitch later,” I said. I’d said the same thing to Laura at least three times already. She was sobbing hysterically from our old bedroom. I didn’t know if I could hear her so well because my vampire senses were on high alert, or if she was just that fragile under real pressure. I guess fake murder trials didn’t compare to vampire mobs.
“I don’t have anything to pack,” Mandy barked at me. “Except for my two thousand dollars, which you can put right in here.” She held out Maggie’s bloodstained vest and pointed at one of the buttoned pockets on the side. “I’m going to shift and get the hell out of here while I still can.”
“You’re bailing? Just like that? After everything I’ve done for you?” I zipped up the duffle bag and turned to face her with a scowl.
Mandy pointed a finger in my face. “Don’t act like I haven’t done just as much for you. This little arrangement has been mutually beneficial, and it was all to help bring down the Scarlett Inn. If you get busted by House Lilith, how is me voluntarily going down with you going to help anyone?”
She was right, but my feelings were still hurt. Who else was I going to rely on for half-baked answers about my strange new existence?
Mandy thrust the dog vest at me again, and I threw my hands up.
“Fine,” I said, opening the swinging door under my night table that hid an old safe. Mom had built the piece of furniture herself, and my chest tightened as I considered that I might not ever see it—or anything in the house—ever again. Survival meant essentials only.
I rolled the dial of the safe, entering the combination on the first try despite my shaky hands. Mom had a safety deposit box, too, but she didn’t put all her eggs in one basket. That’s what she had told me as a teen when I’d walked in on her getting into the safe. I’d been horrified, thinking maybe she was on the take of some illicit deal.
There’s only eight grand in here, baby girl. Just another nest egg. That’s not even enough to put you through college.
A week later, she’d decided to go over all of her finances with Laura and me in case something happened. Three years later, something did happen.
The safe held about twelve grand now. Most of it was my own savings since Mom’s had been split between Laura and me after the funeral. I counted out twenty hundred-dollar bills and tossed them to Mandy. I split the rest and tucked them down into the front pockets of my jeans.
Before I closed up the safe, I removed a small velvet box that held Mom’s badge. I packed it in my duffle bag. Then I took one last look at the room and left, giving Mandy some privacy for her shift.
Laura’s sobs grew louder as I reached the living room. They were joined by Duncan’s high-pitched howl from his carrier. He pawed at the latch and trotted circles inside the plastic cage. Laura’s matching designer luggage stood like a tiny, pink city around him.
I put my hands on my hips as Laura dragged another rolling suitcase into the living area. “I said essentials only.”
“Don’t talk to me in that tone,” she said, her voice ragged and nasally. “This is your fault, so I’ll pack whatever the hell I want to.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder and put her hands on her hips to mirror me.
My jaw clenched so tightly that my teeth creaked. I snatched up one of her bags and threw open the front door. The end of Agent Knight’s rifle greeted me. His eyes focused on me through the notches of the rifle sights. I took a careful step back, and he followed me inside.
“No sudden movements,” he said. “Drop the bags and put your hands on your head.”
Laura squealed, and he swung the rifle in her direction.
“Hey! Hey! I’m the one you want,” I shouted and held out my hands while Laura continued to scream over me. “Shut up, Laura! Shut. Up.” She slapped her hands over her mouth to stifle her hysteria.
“Twins,” Agent Knight murmured. “Of course. I wondered how you were getting around during the day.” He turned the rifle back toward me. “How long have you been pulling this act off?”
“Two days,” I answered truthfully. “But I’ve been a vampire for four.”
His gun dropped an inch, and he blinked at me. “You were changed when Detective Banks was murdered?” I nodded. “Who is your sire? Where is your sire?” he asked, glancing around nervously. I prayed Mandy would stay in my bedroom. I was betting that was all it would take to set this massacre into motion.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“You don’t know what? Who or where your sire is?” he demanded, lifting the rifle again.
“Either! Both.” I shook my head. “This is all a terrible mistake. I didn’t want any of this.”
He finally lowered the gun and huffed out an annoyed sigh. “So, you really did wake up in the morgue? That wasn’t just a cover story dreamt up by your doctor beau.”
“Beau?” I made a face at him. “Vin is not my beau. He’s not my anything, and he didn’t have anything to do with this.”
“But you feed on him.” Agent Knight looked confused.
“What makes you assume that?”
“I saw the bandage on his neck.”
I didn’t bother asking why he was scoping out Vin. Of course, he’d been by the morgue. He was heading up an FBI investigation. Will was a part of that mystery. Me, too, for that matter.
Agent Knight made a disapproving face. “Whether you like it or not, that means something.” He rubbed a hand over his jaw and made an
other frustrated noise before nudging the front door closed with his booted foot.
“What do you want?” I asked. My heart was ready to explode. Laura looked like hers already had. She cowered in the corner of the room, hands still covering her mouth as tears streamed down her face.
Agent Knight gave us a contemplative glare before sliding the strap of his rifle over one shoulder—the shoulder I’d mangled. Shreds of his black turtleneck dangled free, exposing a chiseled deltoid marred by bloody scratches. I glanced away when he caught me staring and blushed. Blood seemed so intimate now. It felt as if I’d been caught staring at his crotch. My eyes unconsciously migrated there next. Then he blushed.
“I have some questions for you. Real questions,” he said.
I dropped my duffle bag and Laura’s pink suitcase. “You think you have questions? The only other vampire I’ve encountered is the jerk who offed me—”
“I’m not a vampire,” he said, almost apologetically.
“I’m not an idiot,” I countered. “But you clearly know a thing or two. I’m guessing a hell of a lot more than I do anyway.”
He snorted. “You want to trade information? Is that it?”
“Why not?” I felt sweat spring up on my palms. This was it. I was going to learn something useful—well, something more useful than the scrambled bits of brothel or rehab gossip Mandy had passed on.
Agent Knight squinted at me. “How did you know about the butcher’s shop in East St. Louis?”
“A little bird.”
He smirked. “A furry little bird, maybe?”
“And what if it was? Is there some vampire rule about not consorting with werewolves? I don’t know these things.”
“So, the morgue doctor, cow blood, and gangsters. That’s been your makeshift vampling diet?”
Laura gasped from her corner, breaking her silence. “You’ve been eating gangsters? Is that how you got caught?”
I flinched at the accusation. We hadn’t discussed the finer details of my problematic evening yet, and this wasn’t how I’d wanted her to find out. “It was just the one,” I said under my breath, a sheepish burn filling my cheeks. “And he started it. He tried to carjack me.”
Blood Vice Page 13