by Sharon Joss
Enzo had said as much. The Picston badge on my uniform indicated I was an authority figure, and lend credibility to the Hand of Fate. Enzo had also lectured me on the importance of the gala. The gown had to be something special.
The Mayor reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a business card. “This is a card for Felicity Caprice, the chairwoman for the Gala. She runs a dress shop in Shore Haven. She’s providing uniforms and costumes for all the staff—even the band. We want everyone to look good.”
“We already met. She offered to make me a gown for the Gala.”
“Excellent! You’re in good hands then.”
It wasn’t until I was out in the parking lot that I realized that hadn’t told me anything at all about what kind of trouble he thought Wiley Willy was in.
CHAPTER 7
Luçien PULLED DOWN the zipper of my jeans with agonizing slowness. My thighs felt as if they were on fire. His warm full lips on my bare belly had me arching my back in spite of myself. I had no control over my extremities. I tried to twist away…
He began tapping my naked chest with his chin. What an odd movement--.
Blix, my little djemon was jumping up and down on my chest, highly agitated. His glowing yellow eyes wide with angst. Irritated, I started to shove him off me, but stopped when I smelled smoke. The sounds of approaching fire engines spurred me to action.
I threw off the covers and reached for my robe, all the while yelling for Henri. Through the voile curtains, I could see flames flickering on the roof of a rental house a few doors down the street. It was another of those big ‘painted lady’ Victorian homes which line Empress Street. The hundred-year-old homes in Shore Haven stand very close together and are built of wood—most with outmoded electrical systems. A fire at one house could very well threaten the whole town.
Henri met me at the bottom of the stairs and we ran outside to see if we could help. Three fire trucks were already on the scene, and had their hoses turned on the flames. The water kept the flames from spreading, but the house itself looked like a total loss.
As Henri and I lingered on the sidewalk with our neighbors, I heard my name mentioned from somewhere behind me.
“Mattie, hey Mattie.”
It was Juno Rockover, the new bass player for Wiley Willy and the Rogues. Or, I guess, just the Rogues, now. He was a big name in the Buffalo music scene. I’d heard that he’d joined up with Wiley Willy for the Spirit Festival gig. Before he moved to Buffalo, he’d lived in Shore Haven, and we’d gone to the same elementary school and Junior High. Juno was a couple years older than me, so I’d never really hung out with him, but guess I knew him well enough by sight.
Well enough to know he wasn’t human anymore. No lifeline. There was something wrong with him. All of them. Their eyes were too black and shiny—their skin almost glowed with an unhealthy shade of pale.
When he grabbed my arm, he smelled of soot and smoke and blood.
Alarmed, I tried to pull away, but he gripped me like a drowning man reaching for a life preserver. “I need your help.”
Henri, standing next to me, let out a shout. “Oh man, you’re Juno Rockover! I listen to your music all the time! It’s a thrill to meet you!” He patted his ever-present ear-buds. “I’m listening to you right now! Huge fan, man.”
Juno let go of my arm and numbly shook Henri’s outstretched hand. “Oh yeah? That’s great.” He turned his gaze to mine. “Come on, Mattie, we don’t have much time. The fire department won’t let us back into the house. Dawn will be here in a few hours and we need a safe place where we can crash.”
Instinctively, I stepped back, trying to figure out what I was seeing. Part of me wanted to run away, but my Scooby senses were tingling, and I just had to figure out what had happened to him.
He shook his head. “No wait, that’s not right. I’ve got to say the words.” His gaze held mine. “Um, the band and I formally request sanctuary with the Hand of Fate.”
The little door in my mind where Morta lives blew wide open and I gaped at the three desperate undead men standing before me. They belonged to me. Or, Morta, at any rate. They were part of her realm, and had formally asked for my protection. I nodded, not even certain what I was saying yes to.
Dimly. I felt Henri pounding me on the back, his enthusiasm clear. “Hell yes! We’ve got plenty of room! The basement is perfect for you guys. You can sleep all day without being disturbed.”
It hit me then. Sometime in the last twenty years, Juno Rockover had become a vampire.
Relief flooded the three men’s faces. “Thanks, man,” Juno said. “I can’t tell you how much that means to us.”
“This is so great!” Henri grabbed me in a big bear hug. “Can you believe it, Mattie? Juno Rockover and the band are going to be our new roommates!”
Greaaat.
CHAPTER 8
“We’d just come back from playing a club in Rochester,” Juno told me, as we carried the band’s equipment down to the basement of Madame Coumlie’s house. “Good thing, too, or our equipment would’ve gone up in smoke. We all tried to get in there to look for Eddie, but we couldn’t find him.”
Eddie Reale was the band’s sax player.
“Why wasn’t he with you?” I asked. I was still feeling uncomfortable about sharing a house with a bunch of vampires, but Juno assured me that biting the Hand of Fate was taboo for vamps, and Henri’s inhuman blood didn’t appeal to them. And Henri was so very delighted to have them stay with us.
“He hadn’t been feeling well lately,” answered Ray Mackie, the drummer. Ray had been hired to take the place of Kid Harsh, the guy Lou told me about who’d ended up as road kill a few weeks back. “Said he was really wiped out. We could play without him, so we left for the gig.”
“We were lucky,” Mike Weyland ran his hand through his dirty blonde hair and shook his head. “I hope Eddie was too. I hope he got out.”
“This is no coincidence, Mattie,” Juno said. In the harsh light of the basement, he had that ageless look that a lot of rock and rollers get. Not young, but not exactly old either. Far older than Wiley Willy looked, that’s for sure. I guess being a vampire in a rock band is a hard life. “Someone is targeting the band. First Kid Harsh, then Buddy, then William. Speaking for all of us, we’re spooked.”
“Who is Buddy?” asked Henri. He was still a bit starry-eyed and hung on every word and gesture Juno made.
“Buddy Ramone was our keyboardist,” Mike said. “One of the original band members. He disappeared a week after we moved into the house. He and Willy argued about the play list Enzo had given us.” He gave a rueful smile. “Actually, none of were real happy with it. Buddy got real hot and took off. He never came back—and I mean never. Nobody could find him. We filed a police report, but he never showed up.”
“That’s when I came in,” Juno interjected. “William and I go way back—all the way to junior high. He didn’t want to back out of the Festival at the last minute, and it’s the band’s biggest paycheck of the year.” He shrugged. “He called in a favor.”
“Must’ve been some favor,” Ray said, as he twirled a drumstick between his fingers. “Given the play list.”
Juno grinned. “Hey I dig that music!”
Ray and Mike both groaned.
“What’s wrong with the music?” I asked.
“We’re pretty much a rock band,” explained Ray. “We like the hard stuff, mixed with a bit of blues—you know, party music, that kind of thing. But this--.”
“Enzo wanted the music for the Spirit Ball this year to compliment the theme of the Festival” Juno explained. “Karma. You know, the whole what goes around, comes around thing. I guess musically, Enzo is stuck in the ‘70’s.”
“So?”
“So disco. New age funk.” Ray stared tapping out an intro beat on the drums and Ray plugged his guitar into the amp.
“And boogie,” added Juno, his fingers skipped across his keyboard briefly, and then he hit the chords for an intro. A few bars la
ter, the guys started jamming, and soon were belting out a chorus of Age of Aquarius. Sheesh. They were in their own little world. Henri was transfixed—like they were superheroes or something.
I felt like I’d just been dismissed; like I wasn’t even the room. I stared at them. I’d heard vampires didn’t have the same attachments as humans, but hello, your house just burned up…? I tried to say something, but the music was too loud, and Juno wouldn’t look at me. Mike just grinned and shook his head. Never missed a note.
I can take a hint. I climbed the stairs to my room, and flopped down onto the bed. Even from two floors above the basement, the walls of my bedroom throbbed with every note. No chance of getting any sleep with that racket going on. I closed my eyes to collect my thoughts.
To be honest, the whole night felt surreal. Hard to believe I’d just spent an hour in the basement talking about music with a bunch of vampires. Or that they’d asked me for protection. Of course Henri didn’t need to invite them to move in with us, but it was his house, so I had no place to say he couldn’t. But knowing how little experience Henri had being, well, alive, I should probably talk to him about it.
Juno was right. With Buddy Ramone, Kid Harsh, and Wiley Willy all dead or missing, that was too much of a coincidence. Someone was targeting the band. Who would do such a thing? And why? What could the motivation be?
Money? That would be the obvious choice. Juno said it himself—the Festival was the band’s biggest paycheck of the year. He didn’t say how much, but easy enough to find out. Weird that Ray, Mike and Juno were all vampires. I wondered if Wiley Willy had been a vampire. I tried to remember if I’d ever seen him play in the daytime. I was pretty sure I had. I didn’t know about Buddy Ramone or Kid Harsh, though. Lou would probably know.
Or Rhys.
Dang it all, where the hell was he? I checked my cell phone for messages. Still no word from Rhys. It felt like forever since I’d heard from him. Nearly three weeks—even then, it had just been a text saying he’d be in touch soon. I wondered if he’d changed his mind about me. Maybe he’d decided not to come back from Scotland after all. The guy had been around for a couple thousand years. Probably had a lot of girlfriends. I closed my eyes, trying to do the math in my head. Figure one a year, at least for two thousand years, sheesh. He probably couldn’t remember them all. Hell, I was already having kind of a hard time remembering his face—a depressing thought.
And suddenly, Luçien was there was and my thoughts turned a completely different direction.
* * *
The alarm jolted me out of another sex dream with Luçien. More of a nightmare, really. I was helpless. My lips were sealed and couldn’t move my arms or legs. My clothes were gone and everywhere his lips touched me, I burned for more, even as I didn’t want him to do those things that only Rhys had permission to do. I woke up feeling guilty, unsatisfied, and cranky. Damn it Rhys, where are you?
All was quiet in the basement, so I guess Juno and the guys were down for the day. I showered and dressed for work, but for once Henri wasn’t there to have breakfast with me. Understandable, I guess. Last night had been disruptive for both of us. Still, I felt as if I should talk to him about taking in vampires as boarders.
At the end of my shift, when I went out to my car in the parking lot, Lou was waiting for me, leaning up against the hood of Trusty Rusty, looking about as relaxed as I’ve ever seen him.
“Talked to your lawyer yet?” he asked, before I could say anything.
“Fontaigne?” My heart skipped a beat. “No, why? What happened?”
He grinned. “The investigation into Wiley Willy’s murder has been dropped.”
I looked around the parking lot to make sure no one was close enough to hear. “Tell me!”
“My source in the coroner’s office tells me the body had been drained of fluids, but the coroner could not determine the exact manner of death. They found a set of fang marks on the body.”
Ah, so maybe Willy was a vampire. I frowned. That couldn’t be right. Brunson hated vampires. I was so tired I couldn’t think straight. “We didn’t see any vampire bites on the body.”
“Not vampire bites, no. The post mortem revealed a nearly invisible bite on the inner thigh, but it wasn’t vampire. Coroner says he thinks it’s a bug bite or some type of snake.”
“Snakebite?” That didn’t sound right. I thought about my previous conversation with Mayor Brunson. What would he be so worried about that he’d hire Lou to follow him? If Wiley Willy wasn’t a vampire, maybe it was drugs. “Could it have been a needle marks?”
“I asked, but the dude was definitely envenomated. The toxins attacked the major organs of his body and liquefied them. Whatever bit him sucked out all his blood and the liquefied interior organs as well. The bite wasn’t what killed him—he was still alive while he was being sucked dry. Eventually his heart stopped.”
“That’s disgusting.”
“Yeah.”
Something bothered me about this whole thing. My old Scooby senses were kicking at me like crazy. “Mayor Brunson and Madame Marjorie both seemed to think he was involved with something dangerous. Now you’re telling me he died of a snake bite. Don’t you think that’s a bit odd?” I tried to think how Wiley Willy might have encountered a poisonous snake in one of those cabins. And wait, snakes ate their prey whole. They didn’t suck them dry like a milkshake. “What kind of snake?”
Lou shrugged. “They’re still working on that. Something exotic, I guess. They’ve sent samples to the San Diego Zoo for analysis.” He frowned. “Hey, what’s the deal? I thought you’d be glad to hear you’re off the hook for his murder.”
“Oh I am, but something doesn’t feel right. What about Marjorie?” My thoughts felt muzzy from lack of sleep.
Lou shook his head sadly. “She was dying of cancer, probably would have been dead in a week anyway. Against doctor’s advice, she’d stopped her chemotherapy six months earlier—decided to go with a holistic approach. Coroner figures the shock of her son’s death finished her off.”
I remembered Marjorie telling me she’d known that her son was going to die. Maybe that was when she decided she didn’t want to live anymore, either. So sad. Had she known he’d die of a snake bite? “When you said he was bitten, I was pretty sure I was a vampire.”
“Vampires only drink blood, Mattie. This thing took everything.”
He was right. Definitely not vampire. “So hey, both Marjorie and Brunson were worried about him. Why did Brunson hire you, anyway? Was it drugs? Or something else?”
“I told you to ask Brunson.”
“I did. He was pretty vague about it. Something about Willy hanging out with the wrong crowd. Look, he’s dead, and I think the band is being targeted.” I told him about the fire down the street and giving sanctuary to what remained of the band. “That’s three of the band members either missing or dead. That’s too big of a coincidence to ignore. Come on, Lou, help me out here.”
He raised his eyebrows. “No many would open their home to a vampire, much less a whole pack.”
“I didn’t, exactly. It was Henri’s idea. And they did promise not to bite.”
“Riight.”
“Hey, it’s not like I’m happy having them there, but they asked for my protection. I guess staying with Henri and me is about as safe as anywhere. Come on; tell me why Brunson hired you.”
Lou seemed to come to a decision. “Okay, here it is. I got the same sort of runaround from Brunson when he hired me to follow his cousin. Nothing specific. But then the coroner turned up something in the autopsy that explained a lot of things, including maybe why Brunson was trying to keep an eye on Willy and why it had to be kept quiet. I doubt even the press will hear about this.” He tapped his notebook. “Seems that Wiley Willy was a dhampir.”
I was so tired, I thought I hadn’t heard him right. “A what?”
“Dhampir. A daywalker. Half human, half vampire.”
I shook my head. “Vampires are dead. They can�
�t reproduce.”
Lou gave me a disgusted look. “If you’re gonna be the Hand of Fate in this town, Mattie, you’re gonna have to educate yourself. Male vamps have viable sperm for weeks after they’re first risen. It’s not as unusual as you’d think. I imagine Jim Brunson is shittin’ bricks right now. The folks in this town will forgive him for being a paranormal, but if it gets out that he’s got vampires in his family tree, he’ll never hold public office again.”
Dhampirs. Never heard of them. But it made sense, sort of. “Brunson must be a dhampir, too. Makes perfect sense, actually.” Juno and Willy had been friends a long time, maybe even since before Juno was made a vampire. Of course Brunson wouldn’t want to see his cousin involved with vamps, right? My head began to pound. If only I could think straight. So many questions—I had to get some sleep.
“And there’s more.” He flipped the page on his notepad. “You ready for this? This morning the arson investigator found the remains of a charred body in the ashes of that house fire down the street from you. The identification is pending, but based on dog tags they found around his neck, they’re pretty sure it will check out.” Lou glanced at his notes. “Guy by the name of Eddie Reale. You know him?”
My legs began to tremble and I sat on the curb, trying to sort out my thoughts. “Yeah. Well, I know the name. He played saxophone for the Rogues.”
“The fire was caused by a faulty wire, but the word I got was that Eddie was dead before the fire broke out. The coroner said there was no evidence of smoke particulants in his sinuses or nasal cavity. He also said Eddie’s lungs and internal organs were missing, just like Willy Parry’s.”