Blood, Sweat and Demon Tears (The Grateful Undead series Book 3)

by Susan Stec

  Chick frowned at the bottle, and locked eyes with Christopher. "Ya know, for someone who seems to hate Dorius… Never mind—I'm not gonna email him until we have some answers. And yes, we're meeting the vamp, and he's bringing a were-panther with him. They want to talk money before they hand over the demon-guy." She turned back to the laptop and started typing again.

  Christopher pointed the remote at the television sitting on the dresser and clicked it on. He kicked down the orange-and-green-checked bedspread, and started surfing the channels. "I may have my differences with Dorius, but I'm not stupid. We're in enough shit already. But hell, it's your funeral. So who's this half-demon?"

  "The guy we're meeting is a friend of some vampire leader in Louisiana. The half-demon is her lawyer," Chick said, still typing. "And you let me worry about Dorius."

  Christopher settled on a Pay-Per-View movie and laid the remote control on the bed beside him while it loaded. "Well, if she's the leader of a clan, someone at BAMVC should know her. I just want to cover our asses." He plucked a plastic-wrapped cup off the nightstand, tore the wrapper off with his teeth and spat it on the floor. Then he picked up the bottle of booze, opened it and poured it into the cup.

  Christopher carefully placed the plastic cup on the nightstand; then shotputted the bottle into the trash container. "I'd at least get the name of this so called vamp-leader and check her out with BAMVC. The clan leader should be able to vouch for him. This guy could be a serial murderer, for all you know. I mean we're talking the Internet here."

  "Well if he is, he's gonna be one surprised pup when he meets us in some dark alley," she answered with a grin, as she hit the "send" button again.

  The television erupted with a deep-throated moan. Chick's eyes shot to the set. "What the hell? You ordered porn? Shut that goddamned thing off—pick up that plastic shit off the floor, and fork over fifteen bucks!"

  "Just don't look—I'll turn the volume down," Christopher said, whipping out the remote, and hammering the "volume" button. "I got money—I'm paying for half this room, and anything else I want—so fuck off and keep your damn nose in that stupid laptop."

  Chick raised her hand and pointed her fingers at Christopher.

  "Don't even go there, 'cause you start using that telekinetic shit, ya better be ready for a friggin' fight!"

  She put her hand down and blew a sigh. "I'm trying to get my daughter back—I asked you to come—the least you can do is help me."

  "I'll be there when you need me. Just make your plans and leave me alone. I'm not gonna sit around, twiddling my thumbs while I wait." He slammed the remote on the bed, reached for a blood bag, and defiantly fanged a hole in it. Then he grabbed the plastic cup with the shot in it. He squeezed blood into the cup until it was full, slapped the bag to his fangs and sucked the remaining blood down. When it was empty, he put it on the nightstand and sipped his cocktail, eyes riveted on the television screen.

  Chick huffed, turned back to the computer and softly said, "You know, I've been real nice, so far. I didn't say a word when you followed that stripper backstage. I waited patiently. I don't get off on naked women dancing their trailer-trash asses off, either. I sat through ten frigging sets. And then I waited some more. I didn't begrudge you even when I ended up with a filthy trucker—four frigging teeth in his mouth—out in the parking lot in a dirty, semi cab. The bed stunk of piss, and… Shit, I drank from the nasty bastard just because I was so damned bored. Now I need you to be there for me, and all you do is give me shit—so how ready are you? How old are you acting now?"

  Christopher pulled his eyes off the television, turned the set off, set his empty plastic cup on the nightstand, and wiggled under the covers. He turned away from her, and mumbled, "I said I'd be there for you when you need me. I meant it." He shut his eyes and fell asleep.

  * * * *

  Zaire stood in front of Dorius' office, pulling out her vibrating cell phone and taking a ragged breath as she stared at Resi's picture. She unloaded her duffel in one of the guestrooms, plopped on the bed, and read the entire file after leaving Dorius' office. Not much there that she didn't already know. Just pictures of the murder sites and the bodies—minimal information on each site. There were two separate blood types listed, other than the victims at each site, and all of the locations had a scent trail that led nowhere.

  Dorius added some comments in the file; he thought it looked like the work of an experienced vamp, accompanied by a very new vamp. But a couple of the rogue hunters that were out at the sites agreed with Zaire, who thought the second immortal might be a shape-shifter.

  She added her thoughts to the comments page and put the file on the dresser in the room. Then she changed into a Speedo shirt and shorts, put on her tennis shoes, and jogged down to the gym in the complex. She hooked up with a vamp named Veronica that she trained with a couple of times when she was at BAMVC. They worked out with the weights, and went a few rounds on the pads while discussing the murders. Veronica didn't have any gossip to add clarity to her theory.

  After showering and changing into a pair of jeans and a black wife-beater, she decided to go talk to Dorius again.

  Still standing outside the door, Zaire flipped the cell closed and slid it back into her jeans. She missed her mate, and for what? Things weren't going like she planned. She almost called—wanting to hear Resi's voice—but right now, all she had to tell her was that she was still sucking up to Dorius, which didn't set well with her.

  Zaire took a deep breath, curled up her mouth, softly knuckled the office door, and waited for Dorius', "Come in."

  She opened the door a crack and peeked around it. "You got a minute?"

  He waved her over to one of the chairs in front of his large mahogany desk as he closed a file sitting in front of him. "What can I do for you?"

  Zaire took a seat, and smiled. "I read the whole file—looks like we have our work cut out for us—not much to go on. Like you, I think we have two immortals out there. But I'm thinking shape-shifter, maybe a cat of some sort, and a vamp, of course. The vamp's a no-brainer—the bodies are drained of blood. I read your notes, so I know you think the second one is a new vamp, but could a vamp do that much damage? I mean, the victims were really torn up. I saw a couple of the bodies and it looks like a big cat clawed and shredded them."

  "I assure you, a very new vamp can do immense physical damage, but I have considered your idea as well," Dorius answered, as he punched a number into the phone on his desk. "Just give me a minute, I have something else to discuss with you." He pushed the "speaker" button, and with one ring, a voice answered, "Yeah, what's up, Dorius?"

  Zaire's eyes shot daggers at the phone through half-closed lids. The voice was Warren's.

  "Did you secure her?" Dorius asked.

  "Hell, yes, but the bitch put up one hell of a fight," Warren said.

  "Is she drugged?" Dorius asked, glaring at the big smile on Zaire's lips.

  "No, didn't have to. Once we got her cuffed in the Burb, she started actin' real accommodatin'." He chuckled.

  Zaire scowled.

  One of Dorius' brows reached for his hairline. "I assume you have explained her situation."

  "Oh yeah, real proper-like," Warren said, and the phone exploded with laughter.

  "Hey, I'm right here, ya bastard. Don'tcha be talkin' over my head," a woman shouted.

  A smile spread across Dorius' face. "You must be Betty. I'm Dorius, and I'm eager to meet you. I hope you will prove to be all that I believe you are."

  "Yeah, well, screw you!" Betty said. "One minute, I'm in bed with this hot, blonde guy I met on the Net—the next minute a friggin' hawk attacks me—bit the bastard—then, I wake up and some fuckin' raccoon from hell is hangin' from my throat. I slap the shit—it took off runnin'. I cornered it in the barn. Some bitch an’ her lackeys showed up, an’ suddenly, I'm floatin' back ta the house. No shit! Flying! And I got these fangs, man! A real storybook experience. Shit! I'm a fuckin' believer, I tell ya."

  Zaire laug
hed. "I hear you can kick some ass, vamp. How 'bout you and me start with that redneck in the driver's seat when you get here?"

  "What the hell? Is that the black bitch?" Warren snapped.

  "Hey, screw you! The name's Zaire—use it!" She snapped right back.

  "He has a real problem with names," Betty said with a chuckle. "I don't know who ya are, honey, but I think I'm gonna like ya."

  Dorius cleared his throat. "That's excellent, Betty, because Zaire is going to be your partner for a few weeks."

  "Finally! A bitch I can relate to," Betty said. "Bring 'er on. And girl, I'm reeeal good at teachin' country boys when it's time ta step back." She glanced at Warren in the rear view mirror. "And sugar. It's time."

  "Ya, I'd like ta see ya try," Warren said. "I been jakin' to get he-she on the pads since I met 'er! You're both on!"

  "Sweet!" Zaire said, as she burst out laughing. "I can't wait to call Resi. She's gonna love this shit!"

  ~~~~

  Chapter Fourteen

  ~~~~

  "I'm just sayin', Mom says she's going to get me and Lilith home," JoAnn said as she threaded a sewing machine in front of her. It was black and shiny with a gold Singer logo on the side. She slapped a piece of black fabric under the needle, flipped down a lever, and her body began to sway back and forth as the fabric slowly moved under the needle.

  "Well, she damned sure shouldn't have taken the phone! Is that an electric sewing machine?" I asked, listening to Marcus snoring on the bed next to me.

  "No. It's like Grandma's old machine. You have to pedal it. And it doesn't matter if she took the phone. You got another one." Her body was moving faster now, head jerking, lips tightened in concentration.

  "Ya know, this phone doesn't have a battery and neither did the other one," I said, turning the pink cell over. "How does it stay charged?"

  JoAnn looked up from the machine and huffed. "Who cares?! I don't know anything about the motor stuff. That's Raphael's job. All I care is, they work. I'm actually glad Mom has one. At least she has a plan. She found a telepath that might know how to get me the heck out of here. It doesn't sound like you have any plan." Her eyes shifted down and she started swaying back and forth again. "I hope she does it soon."

  "JoAnn, sweetie, I think Mom is just keeping Christopher busy," I told her. "See, there's been an incident here, and… Never mind, suffice to say, Mom's just keeping Christopher away from the house for a while. Marcus and I are going to get you home, but we need you and Lily to be alone at your house to do that."

  She picked up a clunky, big pair of scissors and cut the thread, pulling the material out. It looked like a short, tubular part of the dress, probably a sleeve. Setting the fabric aside, she grabbed another piece that looked like the one she'd just finished. She folded it in half and shoved it under the foot of the sewing machine. Turning the wheel with her right hand, she returned to swaying. "This is such a pain. You know I hate to sew. I'm not very good at it either. Anyway, that's not going to happen, Susan. I told you, I'm here all alone, making the stupid dress for Lilith, and Raphael has her at another training session with that witch-woman. I swear if he's…"

  Marcus yawned on the bed next to me, wrapping his arm across my stomach He rubbed his nose against my side, and fanged my panties over my hip. "Darling, I long to be inside…"

  I slapped his sentence short with a brisk thwap to the side of his head. His eyes popped open and he glared at the phone.

  "JoAnn," I said a bit too loudly as I jerked his pillow out from under his head, "Raphael said we could come to the coronation. Do you think we can grab Lily and get back to your house without him knowing? I could have a portal open and ready. We have the location and…"

  "It's Lilith! Not Lily! And are you crazy? Lilith is the star of the coronation. He'll be by her side, basking in her glory," JoAnn said. She set the second piece of fabric aside and looked at me with hopeful eyes. "But I'd really love for all of you to come. I'm so nervous, and having you guys by my side would…"

  "We are not attending," Marcus mumbled loudly into the pillow I pressed over his face. His hand traveled up my thigh and slipped between my legs.

  I pushed harder on the pillow and gritted my teeth. "Right now that seems like our only option," I said.

  "Did I hear Marcus? Is he right there in bed with you?"

  "Yessssss," I said. "It's midday here and we were… napping when you called." Post-coital napping, but nonetheless, napping. I chose not to mention that.

  "Susan, you're disgusting," JoAnn barked. "What am I? Huh? A pawn for your sick sex games? You're both demented. How the heck can I trust you to find the time to get me out of here when all you're doing—every time I call—is having sex? Sex, sex, sex! Can you think about my problem for just one minute?" Spittle hit the camera lens on her side, sliding down over the image of her angry face.

  Marcus chuckled. "A ménage à trois, how wicked." He licked my hip.

  "He was sleeping!" I yelled, slapping him about six times with the pillow. He shoved it away, and it landed in front of the French doors.

  "But I'm not sleeping now, darling," Marcus purred, kissing his way up my leg behind the Hell phone clutched in my hands, "and, I'm hungry. Pay me no mind, JoAnn," he shouted; then in a much huskier voice, "I'll just slip out for a bite." He viciously fanged the inside of my thigh and started sucking.

  I choked out a gasp. "Can I call you right back?" I squeaked.

  "Do you even care? Don't you ever, ever, ever call me again with that… that… evil man in the room!" JoAnn said. "I'm calling our mother! She has a plan! And she's not perverted!" With that, the screen went black.

  I flipped the new Hell phone closed and dropped my fangs.

  * * * *

  ...the rainbow…

  Christopher rolled over in his bed and blinked at the blaring light coming off the television set in the motel room. Rubbing his eyes, he turned toward Chick and watched as she pulled on the asbestos glove, jerked the pink phone off the nightstand and thumbed it open.

  "JoAnn, we aren't there yet. I told you I'd call when we got there," she said in a heated whisper, one hand searching under the covers for something.

  "I just talked to Susan and we had a big argument! Do you know what she's doing every darn time I call? She and Marcus…"

  "You're watching that sex video!" Christopher yelled, pointing at the television. "You could've at least got me up. I'm paying for the damn thing!" He sat up in bed and reached for his unfinished cocktail.

  "Was that Christopher? Did he say 'sex video'?" JoAnn asked, horror written all over her face—eyes wide.

  Chick's nostrils flared and she shot Christopher a look that put a wicked smile on his lips. She turned back to the phone, moving the camera lens directly in front of her face as she pulled the remote out from under the covers. "He said Rex video. I was watching Jurassic Park."

  "I'm sorry, Mom. I have sex on the brain. That's what Susan and I argu–"

  "I'm not getting into you and your sister's shit. I'm busy here. I've just set up a meeting in a bar in New Orleans to talk to the guy that's gonna help me get you home." She nonchalantly set the remote down and slid a tubular, flesh-colored object under the bed covers.

  Christopher didn't miss the hand action. "Is that what I think it is? Does it have batteries? Come on! Christ, Chick, I'm right here!"

  "Just go back to sleep, mister!" Chick shook the phone in front of her face with one hand and clicked the remote with the other, turning off the television. She snarled at the phone. "Can't I have one minute of peaceful relaxation? Damn it, JoAnn, despite being a world away, you’re still a hemorrhoid on the inside of my asshole! What? You called me in the middle of the day—just when I get a few minutes alone—to tell me you and your damn sister had a fight? Like that's not an everyday occurrence? You got anything else to say? 'Cause if you don't, I'm hanging up."

  "Susan told me Raphael said you all could attend Lilith's coronation next week," JoAnn blurted out. "If you can't g
et me and my child home by then, are you coming?"

  "I'm in." Christopher chugged his drink, slapping the plastic cup back on the bedside table and sliding under the covers.

  Mom locked eyes with him, but she was talking to JoAnn. "If I have my way, none of us will be at that coronation. No granddaughter of mine is going to be a demon gatekeeper in Hell." She slammed the phone shut and tossed it on the bedside table, knocking the plastic cup off. "And don't you start with me either. We're both adults here. Nuff said." She ripped off the glove, turned off the lamp, and pulled the covers up around her neck.

  Christopher's chuckles filled the dark room. "Ya know, if you turn that thing on I'll hear it, right?"

  ~~~~

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~~~~

  Zaire, cell phone against her ear, a scowl on her face, yanked off the towel she'd just wrapped around her body and flung it over the shower rod. "So where they at?"

  "Pulling into the compound." The sound of Dorius' voice tightened every muscle in her body. "Warren has instructions to bring her to Interrogation Room C, third floor, middle door. I'm on my way down. Be there when I get there."

  Zaire started to answer, but Dorius broke the connection. She stared at the blank screen, flipped the phone closed, tossed it on the vanity in the bathroom, picked up a hand-towel, and wiped the condensation off the mirror. "Third floor! Middle door! Be there when I get there!" Her reflection, all angry gray eyes, shot daggers back at her. "Hold your breath, ya bastard."

  She grabbed a blow-dryer attached to the wall by the mirror and flipped her head forward, enjoying the warm air that blew her ebony hair around her face. "Fuck Dorius! Fuck Christopher. Fuck Warren! And fuck the damn vampoon that bit the bitch! Fuck, fuck, fuck them all!" she screamed, as she hammered the blow-dryer back into its holder.