The Dead Wolves: An Ashwood Novel (Cursed and Damned Book 1)

by Lee Dignam

  “You have cameras installed but no microphones?” Cyanide asked.

  Lionel shrugged. “We want to give our clients a little privacy, at least.”

  “Even if hearing what they were talking about might help us find her?”

  “I highly doubt anything they’re going to say to each other here would help us.”

  “You sound sure of that.”

  “Because I am. I’ve been doing this for long enough. Little conversation of any meaning takes place in these rooms. The dolls indulge the vampires with casual conversation tailored to the environment. Some flirt, others talk about their day, others ask questions so the vampire can talk about himself, satisfying our narcissistic tendencies.”

  “Speak for yourself; I’m not a narcissist.”

  “We’re immortal predators who will never grow old or weak. We bend the minds of humans to our will. We fight with the strength of hundreds of men. Do you expect me to believe these facts haven’t at any point made you feel larger than life? Like you could do or say anything to anyone and not suffer any consequence?”

  Cyanide turned her burning eyes on him. “Never,” she said.

  “Then you must be one of the good ones,” he said, after a pause.

  But she wasn’t one of the good ones, and she knew it. How could she be? In order for her to live, others had to suffer. Didn’t that make her some kind of parasite? And if she was, then how could she be good? Parasites were creatures to be destroyed as soon as they were discovered, and vampires lived constantly beneath the threat of discovery by humans. It was much easier for them to be selfish assholes than walk the path of righteousness or good.

  The best Cyanide could do was pretend, because in the end, the assholes always won.

  Lionel fast-forwarded the video through the quiet parts. Nothing seemed to happen for almost ten minutes. During that time, the vampire and the girl seemed to do nothing more than talk, but not being able to hear the conversation made Cyanide nervous. What were they talking about that took so long to discuss? Her life? Her ambitions and dreams? The girl seemed to smile a fair bit, and even laugh at times.

  Was he charming her?

  The bald man checked his watch toward the hour mark. Each vampire who rented a private room did so for an hour at a time, and his time was almost up. When he realized this, he turned to face Melanie, cupped her cheek with his hand, and tilted her neck up. She seemed a little surprised by the suddenness of it all, but once his teeth entered her neck, her eyes glazed over and her surprise melted away.

  When he was done, the bald man set her almost unconscious body down on the couch, stood, and walked out of the room without as much as another word. Cyanide watched, hoping the girl hadn’t been hurt, that he hadn’t taken too much. About a minute after the bald man left, a woman came rushing into the room to help Melanie get back on her feet. Together they left the room, and Lionel stopped the video.

  “That’s it?” Cyanide asked.

  “What more do you want to see?” Lionel asked.

  “I want to see where he went after this. There are cameras all over the building, right? Some of them probably filmed him as he left.”

  Lionel turned to the keyboard again and began looking through video files which matched the timestamp for the one they had just seen. It took a little time to find the bald man, and some clever window management to clip the different camera angles together in a way that followed him as he walked out of the private room, but Lionel was quick with the system. They were able to watch the bald man leave the private room, walk down the near-dark corridor, and then head straight out of the building through the main stairway—the one with the mesmerizing artwork on the walls.

  Outdoor cameras followed him as he walked along the line of clubbers waiting to get into Lust, then around the building itself to a fenced-in parking lot where he had parked his car. The camera angle wasn’t good out there, so they didn’t see him get into his car, but a car did leave the lot a few minutes later, with what looked like a bald man in the driver’s seat.

  “So, he just left,” Cyanide said. “After all that, he just leaves.”

  “Looks that way.”

  “What about Melanie? Do we have a record of her leaving?”

  Lionel skipped forward on the outside camera until Melanie made her exit. She moved along the side of the building, into the parking lot and it took almost ten minutes from the moment she disappeared to the moment her car left the lot. But something was strange about the way the car was moving.

  The girl had been staggering, but the car obeyed the laws of the road without a single hiccup.

  “She left about twenty minutes after he did,” Lionel said. “And she wasn’t followed.”

  “Wait… wait. Rewind the tape a couple of seconds.”

  The video skipped back to the instant the car left the parking lot. Cyanide took the controls and moved the video forward frame by frame, narrowing her eyes and leaning closer to the screen to get a better look at the car. There was something odd about the image, but it wasn’t until she caught a side view of the car as it left that she figured out what it was.

  There were two people in that car, and the one driving it was a man.

  “There,” she said, pointing at the screen. “That’s him.”

  “Shit,” Lionel said, “And we didn’t see this.”

  “How could you? A human would have missed this unless they were really paying attention.”

  Lionel quickly took the controls again and began pulling up client registries. A whole parade of names and dates scrolled upwards—names Cyanide couldn’t recognize—some which showing up more than once. When Lionel found the folder he was looking for, a folder marked ‘Asimov, 08-27-17’, he pulled it up, but it was empty.

  Cyanide gave him her eyes. “What is it?” she asked.

  “There’s nothing in here.”

  “That’s… bad?”

  “We keep a list of everyone who pays for a private room. We get their names, make a note of how much they paid, for how long, with what doll. This shouldn’t be empty.”

  “So, are you saying someone forgot to fill it in?”

  “Impossible… that couldn’t have happened.”

  “Then someone deleted the file.”

  Lionel shook his head. “That’s also impossible.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m the only person with the administrator password, and you need the password before you can delete anything on the system. The night managers are able to enter data, but nothing else. Not delete, or even modify. Once an entry has been made, it stays in the system.”

  Cyanide turned her eyes to the screen again. “Maybe there was a glitch?” she asked. “Check some other files.”

  Lionel paused and considered. “Look away,” he said, “This isn’t for your eyes.”

  She did as he asked, turning her eyes away from the main monitor. Things already weren’t going well, but as curious as she was, she didn’t want to make things worse by insisting she be allowed to see the names on that list. She wondered if Daniel or Neo were on the list—if they had ever paid for Lionel’s services.

  Neo, probably not. He wasn’t the type. But Daniel? She didn’t think he was the type either—if there were good vampires, Daniel was one of them. But he did enjoy luxury as much as Lionel did.

  “They’re all fine,” Lionel said, “This is the only one from that day that’s missing.”

  “What about the name on the file? Asimov. That’s a name, right? Why wouldn’t they have deleted the whole folder?”

  “A missing folder would have presented a gap in the continuity of the primary subfolder. It would have stood out. Deleting the file from inside was a smarter move.”

  “And you have no idea who could have done this?”

  “No. I’m the only one with the password.”

  Cyanide stood from her chair and looked at him. “So, either someone stole or guessed your password, or you’re lying.”

 
; Lionel turned his head up and stood, tugging on his suit jacket to straighten it out. “You’re calling me a liar?” he asked.

  “No, but this does look pretty fucking suspicious, don’t you think? You’re the only one who can delete files.”

  “So, what, you think I’m trying to protect this guy? Why?”

  “I don’t know. How about you—” Cyanide’s phone began to buzz in her jeans. She put her hand out toward Lionel and kept her eyes on him as she pulled her phone out of her pocket. The black display read Daniel Knight, and had an option to swipe to answer. Cyanide swiped. “Daniel,” she said, “What is it?”

  “Are you at Lust?” he asked.

  “I’m with Lionel, yeah. Why?”

  “What have you found out?”

  “A bunch of stuff. I think we’ve identified the guy who took one of Lionel’s girls.”

  “Lionel had someone go missing?”

  “Yeah, but he didn’t report it because shit like this happens sometimes.”

  “What do you have?”

  “Video evidence.”

  “Can you send me a picture?” It sounded like Daniel was walking. She could hear car horns, the hiss of wheels on asphalt, and the click-clack of hard soled feet on concrete sidewalks.

  “I don’t have a picture of him, but maybe we can get one?” she asked, turning her attention toward Lionel.

  He nodded.

  “I think we can get you one.”

  “Good, because I have a description of a man who abducted at least one of the girls we rescued last night.”

  “Let me guess… bald, large, and heavily tattooed?”

  “That’s right.”

  “Then we have our guy. We don’t know where he went after he abducted the girl from Lust, but we know he was here, and we know what he looks like.”

  “That’s great news,” Daniel said. “Send me the picture; I’ll need to identify him when I get to where I’m going.”

  “Wait, hold up. Where are you going?”

  “I’m going to another nightclub called Heaven.” Lionel cocked his head. He could hear what Daniel was saying even from across the room. “It’s a vampire club. That’s where Kaitlyn was bound for last night.”

  “And you’re going? To a vampire club?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t you think that’s a little stupid? You’re Daniel Knight, high profile as shit. You’ll be recognized three blocks away.”

  “So? If there’s a chance this guy knows where Kaitlyn is I’m not wasting another second.”

  Cyanide swapped ears. “Listen, you’re not thinking straight. If you go in there with guns blazing, and they bolt, we miss our chance at finding her. We need another plan.”

  “She’s right,” Lionel said. “You won’t be able to get in without being noticed. Heaven is one of the hottest spots in town.”

  “Then what do you suggest?” Daniel asked, after a pause.

  Cyanide let her head sink lower. “God dammit,” she said, “I’ll go.”

  “No,” Daniel said, “Absolutely not.”

  “Why not? No one knows who the fuck I am.”

  “You don’t know that.”

  “I’ve never set foot in that club. Before tonight, I hadn’t even set foot in this club. Who’s gonna recognize me?”

  Daniel said nothing.

  “I can go in and identify the guy. If he’s in there, then we can decide what to do. No one’s going to even know I’m there.”

  “And if something happens and you’re caught on your own?”

  “I can handle myself. Besides, you and Neo won’t be far.”

  The line went silent again. “Okay,” he finally said.

  “Good. I’ll come and get you.”

  Cyanide hung up before Daniel could protest. She knew he would be able to change her mind if he insisted. He could haggle the last drop of blood away from a human on death’s door if he wanted to, and she didn’t want to be dissuaded from her chosen course of action. She was right about this and she knew it. All she had to do now was get to Heaven, get inside, and find the bald man.

  She pocketed her phone and headed for the door to the dark room.

  “You’re leaving?” Lionel asked.

  Cyanide tuned around to look at him.

  Lionel nodded. “There’s a flaw in your plan.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Heaven is one of the most exclusive spots in Ashwood, and there’s no way in hell you’re going to get in looking like that.”

  She checked herself out. “I once got into a closed, intimate Darkwing gig, and all I had to do was hitch my tartan skirt up a little bit.”

  “Who the fuck is Darkwing?”

  “You clearly don’t know music.”

  Lionel sighed. “But I do know clubs like this one,” he said, “They like hotness of a different kind in Heaven, okay? I can help you—I can guarantee you’ll get in—but you have to believe me when I tell you I had nothing to do with that file going missing.”

  Vampires were tough creatures to read, but she could feel the sincerity in his voice. She nodded. “Alright,” she said, “But we need to find out who else has access to your system.”

  “I’ll work on that while you’re gone,” he said, crossing the dark room and opening the door. “Meanwhile, we’ll get you to my girls. They’ll take care of you and make sure you look like the kind of person they want in Heaven.”

  Cyanide stepped out of the room.

  “But you have to promise me,” Lionel said, taking her arm. “Promise me you’ll find my girls.”

  She looked at his hand around her wrist, then traced his arm up and met his eyes. There was a chance his girls had already been found—that they had been among the women they had rescued last night. She had no way of knowing, though. Nor did she have any way to guarantee she would be able to find Melanie. As far as she was concerned, she was here to find one person—Kaitlyn.

  Finding her meant Daniel would make sure Cyanide could put a fuck-ton of miles between herself and Ashwood. She knew, once that was done, she was gone.

  So, she lied. “I promise.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “I still don’t like the idea,” Daniel said.

  They were in Neo’s car with Neo at the wheel, Daniel riding shotgun, and Cyanide in the back checking herself out in the rear-view. She had a black wig thrown over her green hair, which already made her look like an entirely different person. Her green hair wasn’t just a part of her personality, it was part of her being now. She had only ever known herself to have green hair.

  “You can’t go into that club without being spotted,” Cyanide said to her reflection. “I can. This makes sense.”

  “You have no idea what you’ll be going up against; that place is a nest of vipers.”

  Cyanide smiled at herself, revealing the slightly elongated tips of her razor-sharp canines. “I’m a snake too.”

  “You should still be careful.”

  “Geez, would you relax already? It’s not like I’m not welcome at that place. I’m a vampire too, and a new one to them.”

  “That just means you’ll draw their curiosity, if not their suspicion.”

  She turned her head to the side and put her arm on Daniel’s shoulder. “What you’re doing is sweet, but I don’t need it. It’s gonna be fine.”

  “You’ve gotta trust her,” Neo put in.

  “I trust her,” Daniel said, “I just don’t trust them.”

  “We’re going to be right outside. If anything happens, we can be in the building in twenty seconds flat, even if we have to spill blood to get in.”

  “Hopefully it won’t come to that,” Daniel said, “Spilling fresh, warm blood in a club full of vampires won’t be good for anyone.”

  “Isn’t that what vampires do at nightclubs?” Cyanide asked.

  “Vampires who feed at nightclubs go there to drink, not spill blood. There’s a difference.”

  Neo pulled the car to the side of the road
and into a free space on what looked like a narrow street with a lot of foot traffic. There were people here, most of whom were dressed up and ready to go dance, drink, and probably do drugs or have sex—maybe all four simultaneously. Some were walking in groups, others were queuing to get into one of the many clubs and bars along this street, and others were puking on the side of the road, having already drank too much.

  “Heaven is at the end of the street, and here’s a picture of Kaitlyn,” Daniel said, handing her his phone. On the screen was a candid picture of a cute brunette girl wearing a black uniform, serving a tray to a table at a busy, upscale looking bistro. “We’re stopping here because we don’t want this car to be associated with you, but we’ll be around the club once you get inside.”

  Cyanide got out of the car and straightened out the black sequined mini dress Aisha had selected for her. The night air was cool and fresh, but the sharp tinge of vomit and piss were present on the back of every breath. “Got it,” she said, “If I spot the bald guy, or our girl, I’ll call.”

  “Cyanide,” he said, once she had started walking. “Be careful.”

  She nodded and let a grin sweep across her face. “Always.”

  Neo headed out of the parking spot and grumbled down the road, making a left turn and disappearing from sight at the next intersection. Taking that as her cue, Cyanide started walking. It surprised her that she could walk while wearing the 5-inch stiletto pumps Aisha had also insisted on. Cyanide thought she would honestly look like a baby giraffe trying to walk for the first time, but instead she made the walk look natural.

  She kept her senses sharp as she walked. This street was unknown to her and, vampire or not, keeping her eyes peeled for threats wasn’t a bad idea. Tall buildings flanked her on either side, many of which seemed to be either nightclubs, bars, or strip joints. The smell of alcohol fragranced the air, and she found herself almost missing the taste of a good whiskey.

  Almost.

  Blood was better. Way better. And the blood of a person who had just imbibed a vampire’s drink of choice scratched the itch just fine. In fact, maybe it was the warmth of the blood, or the act of drinking it out of a person’s neck, but drinking alcohol right out of the bloodstream seemed to enhance its ability to inflict a buzz on the drinker.