by W. J. May
Ace raised both eyebrows. “Young girls?”
Erick waved a hand. “Yeah, you know, like late teens, early twenties.” He looked to the cemetery again. “Look,” he pointed.
The observed Elias open up a large stone crypt and walk inside of it. After about two agonizing minutes, he came out holding a female with long, golden hair wrapped in a sheet or blanket.
“What the hell?” Ace said.
Erick whistled through his teeth again. “Straight out of Dracula. Someone’s been reading too much Bram Stoker.”
“That leech is older than the Irish author, smartass,” Ace whispered.
Elias walked to a small red Porsche 911 and gingerly placed her into the front seat. He went around to the driver’s side and started up the sports car, driving off slowly.
“What do we do now, boss?” Erick asked.
Ace started up his black Camaro with a grin. “Why, we follow him, of course.”
∞∞∞
“There’s a shitload of new vampires in the clan, I hear,” Tristan said, picking chicken from his teeth.
“That’s disgusting,” Lauren said, sipping her unsweetened tea.
“Wings are not disgusting. Besides, the Saints are playing, you can’t watch the game without hot wings.”
She laughed. “Yes, actually you can.”
He wiped hot sauce from his lips. “Well I can’t have beer on duty so wings will have to do. Especially since they’re playing the Vikings. I should be at home. With a beer.”
She glanced up at the TV set in the corner of the small restaurant and shook her head. A football fan she was not. She pointed at his plate of wings and fried okra. “I see you’re embracing the Southern food.”
He smiled. “I embraced Southern food before I moved to the South. It just tastes better here.”
“That’s because it originated here. Duh.”
He lowered his voice and looked around. “So what do you think the boss is going to want us to do about the succubus?”
“Leave her the hell alone,” Lauren answered quickly. “I mean it, Tristan. Stay away from her. We gave our supervisors the report. They can take it from here.”
He moved his eyes from the TV back to her blue ones. “What does that mean? They’re going to kill her?”
She shrugged, removing the napkin from her lap and folding it neatly on her now-empty plate. “I don’t know, but I do know that succubae are the most dangerous of vampires.”
“Is there a reason we didn’t learn about them at the academy?” he asked, his full attention now on the conversation.
“Nobody knew anything about them, not truly, just thought they were female vampires. But we learned that not all female vampires are succubae but all succubae are vampires, feeding off of the soul instead of blood. Seems the safer of the two, right?” she asked.
He nodded. “Yes, but it’s not, it just makes new vampires like the boss said.”
“Yes, of the worst kind. When a regular vampire turns a human, it becomes just like him, blood drinking with a sunlight allergy. But when a succubus takes the soul of her victim, who is almost always male, he becomes almost feral. Most regular vampires maintain some of their humanity and try to live quietly and stay under the radar, but the soulless ones usually have to be put down. There have been rare cases where the vampires created can be tamed, so to speak, and live amongst other vampires in a clan.”
“So they drink blood like a regular vampire? They don’t go around sucking souls or whatever like a succubus?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, we have never seen or heard of a male succubus. Not saying it’s not possible, but we’ve never experienced that. I’ve been doing some research.”
“Didn’t the boss say something about the victim killing the succubus to reverse the change?”
She nodded. “Yes, it’s rumored that if he kills her within seven days of the... assault... he gets his ‘soul’ back, and he doesn’t become a bloodsucking night demon.”
Tristan shuddered. “I wonder how many of them know this.”
“Not many,” she said. “This is why we like to follow the victims and keep our eyes on the succubus. I think the Bureau is leaning toward approaching the victims and telling them they need to kill the succubus to get their life back.”
“What if we just kill her?”
She sucked in a breath as if thinking. “I don’t think that works. I think the victim has to do it.”
“Geez. This sounds like something out of mythology and folklore.”
She smiled. “It is. These creatures have been around for thousands of years. In the last couple of centuries, they’ve become good at hiding. Guess they were tired of townsfolk with torches and pitchforks knocking on their doors and burning them alive in their own homes. And now that people don’t believe they’re real anymore, they’re becoming more bold again.”
Tristan looked down at his half-finished food and pushed the plate away. “I don’t think I’m hungry anymore.”
After the lunchtime conversation with Lauren, Tristan decided he was going to Club Muse by himself to check out the succubus without having to be on the clock. His curiosity was even more piqued than before... and he wanted to watch her intently. No talking to her this time.
Or that’s what he told himself.
Thursday nights were not that busy but they were busy enough. He arrived earlier than he should have and ordered a beer from the bar, grateful he could drink and wasn’t on duty. He chatted up with the bartender for a while and then found a seat in the dark recesses of the club and watched as the place became more packed.
After about two hours, he spotted her.
She went to sit in the lounge she had chosen before, the same large bodyguard/bouncer at her side, who he now realized not only didn’t work for the club, but was probably not even human.
Vampire.
He briefly wondered if she’d created that particular monster and shuddered thinking about it.
It didn’t take long for the boys to line up. She had her same entourage of girls, and Tristan studied them closely too, unable to determine if they were succubae, vampires, or just humans. His instincts told him they were probably human girls, duped by this succubus to hang out with her, chosen solely on their beautiful looks, but Tristan couldn’t be sure. And he sure as hell did not want to find out the hard way.
The night dragged on. He continued to watch the succubus and her friends very closely, but she didn’t seem to take an interest in anyone in particular. So far, Tristan didn’t think she’d noticed him sitting there, but he wasn’t taking any chances by showing himself. She’d surely remember him from last weekend and surely she’d know something was up if he caught her eye again.
Tristan had been at the club for over three hours now. Young MC’s “Bust a Move” started playing through the speakers and he smiled. He loved this song.
“You want to dance?”
Tristan whipped his head around to see a girl with short, blunt hair the color of midnight ink talking to him. Her eyes were crystal blue and her skin was as white as paper. She was staring at him, smiling, and he realized this was one of her girls.
He smiled back and got up from the chair he’d been sitting in and grabbed her hand, which was cold to the touch. “Sure.”
The two danced together for the next three songs. He held onto her hips as she swayed them in a short silver sequined dress, After the third song ended, Tristan told her he needed a break. He was dripping sweat and needed a breather. He noticed his dancing partner not only didn’t seem to be sweaty, she wasn’t flushed red with heat, nor was she even out of breath. Everyone else on the dance floor was hot, as it was crowded with writhing bodies and the temperature inside seemed to match outside.
He thanked her for the dance but she grabbed his hand and said, “Come sit with me.”
He cautiously followed her to the lounge and made eye contact with the succubus.
Shit.
He plastere
d on a smile and turned to his dancing partner. “I’m Tristan, by the way,” he said.
She smiled. “Leah.”
He nodded. “This is Trisha and Quinn.” She pointed to the blonde and to the succubus.
Quinn was staring at him intently and he had to look away. He was already feeling a draw toward her and he knew if he stayed around her very much longer, he would be in big, big trouble.
“You were here last weekend.”
He looked at Quinn briefly and decided to just be a dick. “Yeah. So?”
She smiled, the harsh red of her lipstick glittering off the lights. “So, how come you left so suddenly? Was that your girlfriend you were with?”
“Something like that,” he replied without looking at her.
“Why don’t you come sit by me?” she purred, patting the sofa seat next to her.
Now he did look at her. Then he looked at the other two girls – vampires – who didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him anymore at all – and then back at Quinn.
She was still smiling, the strobe lights pulsing around her, flashing pink and green lights onto her pale face and shiny red hair.
Tristan did as she asked. He remembered from last week how good she had smelled. How just being this close to her made him want to put his hands all over her. His brain was screaming at him to get up and walk away, but his body wouldn’t obey.
He locked eyes with her as she leaned in to kiss him. As his eyes began to close and his lips drifted close to hers, he felt her lips brush his, then she pulled back and locked eyes with him once more.
Only now, her eyes weren’t blue, but jet-black with no pupils at all.
This should scare me, his brain told him. Yet, he stayed rooted to the spot until he felt a hand on the collar of his shirt, dragging him off the sofa until his body went flying into the crowd of people on the dance floor.
* * *
Chapter 14
“Damn. Even his house looks like a castle,” Erick said as he and Ace pulled up to the large gates of the massive mansion set on the edge of the water. The gates, set on automatic sensors, had closed after Elias’s Porsche had gone through and barred them access.
A heavy fog from the lake began to drift into the yard around the large house, which was set in darkness and had no exterior lights. The black and brown painted house appeared to have three stories, with four tipped peaks at the very top. A large eight-foot wooden door with an oversized black iron knocker was set on top of six stone steps leading up to it. Bushes and trees obscured most of the first floor, but from what they could see, the windows were made of a thick, yellowish beveled glass on the first two floors, and clear glass at the top floors. The duo could see lights burning inside the mansion, but otherwise, it was quiet.
“We’ve been sitting here an hour, boss. What are you expecting to see?” Erick asked some time later.
Ace, who was over eighty years old and had learned the art of patience, said, “Not sure, but I’ll know when I see it.”
“I think we should go back to that nightclub and see if that succubus is still looking for victims. I wonder if Elias knows about her.” He pushed his chin in the direction of the creepy house.
Ace looked at Erick, his newest Immortal partner, and wanted to shake his head at his youth. Even though Ace still looked twenty-eight, he had the wisdom of an old man, and both dreaded and looked forward to mentoring young Dr. Erick Collins.
After Erick’s near-attack by the voodoo priestess shapeshifter, the BSI had stepped in and took care of business, fudging paperwork and cleaning up the legalities of a missing body from the morgue. Recruiting Lauren Clark into the BSI was a no-brainer decision of the SAC of the New Orleans division, but what to do with Dr. Collins was another decision. Sheila Morris had a secret friend in Ace Malone and gave him a call.
“A doctor?” Ace said, astounded. “Let me call you right back.”
He promptly dialed the sylph queen of the Southern United States, Patrice, and told her there was a doctor – even though he was a medical examiner, he was medically trained nonetheless – and the Zie Council jumped on it. Immortals, while quick healers, can still be killed and seriously hurt. Having a doctor onboard their secret organization would be invaluable, and Patrice knew this. “Absolutely,” she had tinkled over the phone to Ace. “Set it up. Call me back and I’ll meet you for his dosage.”
Ace called Sheila Morris back. “I’ll be by to pick him up in half an hour.”
Once Ace had arrived in the lobby of the FBI building, he smiled coolly at Erick. “Hi, Dr. Collins, I’m Ace Malone, come with me and we’ll get you debriefed.”
Erick, still in shock, looked up at Ace Malone, who stood well over six-feet tall, and nodded. “Are you part of the FBI, too?” he had asked.
Ace nodded. “Let’s go.”
“Was that lady a werewolf?” Erick asked as they got into the car.
Ace again nodded but said nothing.
Once they reached Ace’s small office on Canal Street, Erick was ushered inside and ordered to sit on the small sofa in the waiting area of the office. Ace ran a small marketing firm that overlooked the water and the Riverwalk and made a pretty good living with it.
Ace brought Erick a glass of water. After taking a sip, Erick asked, “What is this place?”
“This is my office,” he responded. “We’re waiting for one more person.”
Erick began to grow uneasy. Why wasn’t he being debriefed in some police station-type room with a two-way mirror and a sterile table and chairs?
Suddenly, a beautiful brunette woman wearing a long, blue dress literally appeared out of nowhere.
Erick jumped up and dropped his glass, shattering it on the flat indoor/outdoor carpeting that lined the office floor. “Holy shit!”
Ace went over to him. “Calm down, we’ll explain everything.”
“I’m sorry to have startled you, young man,” Patrice said in her soft, high-pitched voice.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Erick asked, sitting back on the couch at Ace’s direction and putting his head between his knees so he didn’t pass out – or throw up. Ace picked up the broken glass and put it in the trash. The water wasn’t absorbing into the cheap carpeting so he waved his hand in the air, and as Erick looked up, he watched as the water floated in mid-air at the direction of Ace’s hand and deposited itself into a nearby trashcan.
“Okay, someone clearly slipped something into my water...” Erick squeaked out.
Patrice looked at Ace accusingly. “Have you told him nothing?”
Ace shook his head. “Nope.”
Patrice sat next to Erick on the sofa but left plenty of room between them. Erick stared at her. She was absolutely beautiful. Tiny, about five feet tall, with big blue eyes that matched her dress and dark brown hair pulled up into loose bun at the back of her head. Her skin was slightly tanned and she had perfect lips. “Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Patrice. I’m the sylph queen of the Southern United States. I represent the Council of the Zie.”
Erick raised both eyebrows. “Sylph?”
“Yes, dear,” she said, a small vial of what looked like blood appearing in her hand.”
Erick looked at it. “Did you just make that appear out of thin air?”
She smiled. “No, this dress has pockets.”
Erick swallowed hard and Ace watched on, amused.
“I’m going to give you this elixir we call ‘Enchantment’ to drink, and once you do, you’ll be part of an elite coven of Immortals who police the Fae,” she said as matter-of-factly and plainly as if she were telling him he had a dental appointment next Thursday.
“What?” He looked up. “Okay, Ace, right? Can you take me home, please?”
“Who do you live with?” Ace asked. He was still standing and his arms were folded over his dress shirt. His legs looked long in his black dress slacks.
Erick looked at him and took off his lab coat and used it to wipe sweat from
his forehead and his palms. “Nobody. I live alone.”
“Family?” Ace asked.
Erick shook his head. “Parents are gone, I’m an only child. Not married,” he replied in his thick Louisiana drawl, looking at the both of them suspiciously.
Patrice looked at Ace and pulled the stopper off the vial. She produced a small sewing needle and pricked her index finger, dropping three drops of her blood into the vial.
Erick watched in fascination as the vial’s contents turned aqua colored and started swirling. She handed it to Erick. “Drink.”
He looked at the vial then back at Patrice and narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“You want to live forever?” Ace asked.
He looked up at him and chuckled without humor. “Who doesn’t?”
“Then drink,” he ordered.
“What if it kills me?”
Patrice gasped. “It will not!”
Ace shook his head. “See, you’ve offended our queen. She would never give you anything that would hurt you.”
For very long, Ace thought.
“And the conditions?” Erick asked, now somewhat intrigued.
“No more medical examiner job. You work for us now. You’ll live with me for a while... I’ll give you a job. Or you can work at the local hospital for a while to keep up your medical skills.”
“Ugh, I hate people. That’s why I work with dead ones.”
Ace laughed. “How about undead ones?”
“Huh?”
“Another part of your job, you’ll help us police the vampires and shapeshifters of Louisiana,” Ace replied, his arms still folded. He was clearly enjoying Erick’s naivety.
“Shapeshifters?”
Ace nodded. “The one that almost attacked you today in the morgue.”
“Oh. Well I know nothing of policing anything.”
“Oh, you will. Trust me, you won’t be afraid of much after drinking this.” Ace nodded at the vial.
“Sometime today, people,” Patrice said. “I have things to do.”
She shoved the vial into Erick’s hands and he stared at it. Shrugging, he drank its contents and handed the vial back to Patrice. “I don’t feel...” Then he screamed and fell off the couch, curling up in a ball and writhing around in pain, groaning.