As he lined up his shots, Kristin turned to Dmitri. “I know who did it,” she told him grimly. “It was reiver Vane.”
Dmitri’s eyes flashed black fire and Kristin heard the telltale flick of his fangs unsheathing. “Vane.” It wasn’t a question.
The murderous look on his face forged a huge lump in her throat and she nodded rather than trying to talk around it.
He waved a hand in a clearly dismissive gesture to Harry, his intense eyes never leaving her face. “Take whatever pictures you need.” It came out sounding more like an order than permission.
“Um, I—” Harry stuttered.
Dmitri whipped his head around, glaring at the photographer, the tips of his fangs bared.
“What?”
“Do vampires show up in pictures?” Harry asked, then gulped, his eyes wide. Kristin bet he’d never seen a pair of pearly whites like that before.
Dmitri sighed with exasperation. “Of course we show up, unless we’re moving too fast for the camera to capture it.”
Harry nodded, then glanced at her, waiting for direction. “Get a few shots of the decor, the bar and the sign outside,” Kristin said. He nodded and hurried away, the pulsating flashes pinpointing his location in the low-lit interior of the club.
She turned on Dmitri. “You scared him, you know.”
He swiped the tip of his tongue over one of the fangs in a self-conscious gesture. “It wasn’t anything to do with him.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know that. So how about you try to keep the twins under control, huh? I want a few shots of a tasting room, if that’s all right with you.” “Of course.”
With a nod of her head she indicated the crimson curtains to Harry and he started moving toward them. Kristin held Dmitri’s gaze for a moment and realized he seemed both angry and distracted.
“We’ll be out of your hair shortly.”
“Take all the time you need. Just be sure to ask permission from anyone you shoot. Vampires aren’t always agreeable about having their picture taken.” He grabbed her hand and held it for a moment, as though to reassure himself that she was really there. She gave his hand a small squeeze, then walked away from him, feeling the weight of his stare on her back and lower.
Harry stood beside the curtain, holding his camera with a white-knuckled grip. “What’s in there?”
“The tasting rooms.”
Harry shuddered as she swept aside the curtain and let him in first. She stepped directly over to the tall black lacquered cabinet nestled in the corner where the gauze, razor blades and other assorted items were stored, and opened it.
“Harry, get a close-up of this, then a couple of wide angles of the room, would you?”
He dutifully pointed the camera in her direction and shot a couple of flashes. The bright light illuminated a corner inside the cabinet and she caught a quick glimpse of dark vials in a holder near the back that hadn’t been there before.
Her brain scrambled. What if it was vampire ichor? What if it held some of the secrets Dmitri was still withholding from her? What exactly was in vampire ichor that made it able to medically repair what modern medicine couldn’t? And was there something addictive in it? Without blinking she waited for an opportunity to snag one of the small vials.
As the flash pulsed a blinding light in the direction of the room, Kristin used it as cover and grabbed one of the vials, quickly hiding it in her pocket.
Her pulse kicked up a notch, and suddenly she felt the need to get out of the club as quickly as she could. “That’s enough, Harry. Let’s wrap it up.”
She could tell by the look on the photographer’s face he’d had more than enough of his experience in the vampire club. For now so had she. The questions, nagging and persistent, were pounding in the base of her skull even as she fled.
Before she could reach the door, Dmitri grasped her upper arm in a firm but gentle hold. “Where are you going?” His voice held a silky hard edge to it, velvet over steel.
The vial felt heavy in her pocket. Or perhaps that was guilt. Could he be reading her mind? Did he already know she’d taken it? “I’m going home.”
“Not in your car you’re not.” There was no mistaking the tone. Authoritative and direct.
Against her better judgment she looked him in the eye. “I’m not walking, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
His hold on her loosened. “I’ve taken the liberty of having your car repainted and detailed. In the meantime, you’ll use the loaner car I’ve arranged for you.” He held out a key ring to her. Kristin noticed the expensive BMW emblem.
“Thanks.” What she really wanted to say was that she hadn’t asked him to do anything about the car. A conflicting mix of appreciation and ire surged through her. Deep down she appreciated Dmitri’s thoughtfulness. He really did want to look after her. But somehow the feeling got muddled up with a far older gut reaction that said she could take care of herself and didn’t need any man, including him, making decisions for her, thank you very much.
“How long do you think it’ll take to get my car back?”
“You don’t need to worry. I’ll take care of it.”
That was precisely the part that irked her most. Deep within, she could feel herself becoming more dependent upon him and it made her decidedly uncomfortable.
“Black coupe. Should be waiting at the curb. It has remote entry and start. Just push the buttons on the keypad.”
For the moment, the nagging questions in the back of her mind were more insistent than the strange new feelings swimming around in her gut. The reporter in her was deadly curious. She wanted to know if there was an addictive compound in the blood sample she’d just stolen that could be the Love Potion Number Nine of the twenty-first century.
She held up the key in her hand. “Thank you, Dmitri.”
“Call me if anything out of the ordinary happens. I mean it, Kristin. I’ll deal with Vane. Just because he did something fairly innocuous this time doesn’t mean he won’t try to harm you.”
She nodded. “I know. He called and threatened me if I continue reporting on vampires.”
Dmitri’s dark eyes flashed black fire. “But that doesn’t mean you’ll stop.”
“You know I can’t.”
His brows bent. Just because he knew it didn’t mean he liked it. “I’ll be careful, I promise.” She slipped out the door of Sangria.
There at the curb sat the sleek black sports coupe. It looked so damn expensive, Kristin would have bet it was owned by a high-tech computer executive or a drug lord. The mirror finish on the black paint reflected the strobing red neon of the Sangria sign behind her, bending it into graceful arcs of blazing light.
She opened the door, sliding into the form-hugging sports seat crafted out of buttery-soft black leather. Vampires had good taste. She pushed the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life, like a waking beast.
Just like with Dmitri, she wasn’t used to being around something so powerful and obviously dangerous. She drove carefully, toward the one person she knew could help her decipher what was in the vial.
The spectacular view of downtown Seattle’s night skyline sparkled like glitter on black velvet when seen from the top floor of Genet-X Laboratories International. As pretty as it was, Kristin turned away and pulled the vial out of her pocket. She set it on her friend’s desk.
Dr. Rebecca Chamberlin was a genius freak when it came to anything biochemical. With a heart-shaped face and a mass of auburn hair that seemed to twist itself into perpetual ringlets, she hardly looked like a superbrain. But Kristin knew her well enough to know that if anyone could crack the secret of vampire ichor, it was Beck.
“What is it?” Beck asked, holding the vial up to the light, tipping it back and forth as her inquisitive hazel eyes peered over her dark-rimmed glasses.
“Not sure. I need you to analyze it for me.”
“What am I looking for?”
“Just run a normal blood panel on it. Perhaps a viral an
d DNA test too and anything else that can tell me what’s in it. Cover all the bases.”
Beck set the vial down, peering intently at the black liquid inside. “But it’s not blood.”
“Probably not. I’m trying to figure out exactly what it is, Beck.”
Her friend glanced up and shrugged. “It’s your dollar.”
“Thanks, I owe you one.”
Beck smirked, which made her look even younger. “Oh, you owe me a hell of a lot more than that. But I don’t have time to go into detail.”
Kristin flinched. “For the last time, I’m not setting you up with Bradley Peters. Take my word for it, he’s not your type.”
“How can blond, good-looking and loaded not be my type?”
“He’s an ass.”
Beck shrugged. “Most men can be asses. That’s why being loaded and good-looking helps.”
“Really, I’m doing you a favor not introducing you.”
Beck let out a dramatic sigh. “Fine. I’ll drop it. But if you aren’t going to set me up with him, then how about someone else? Getting a date while working at the lab is like trying to fish with no bait.”
“They’re intimidated because your brain is bigger than theirs.”
Beck grinned in response.
“How fast can you get the testing done?” Kristin pushed.
“What’s the rush?”
“It’s research for an upcoming article. I need to know what’s in it before I can go any further into the investigation.”
“Have anything to do with that hush-hush assignment that forced you to turn down dinner last week?”
“Yep. The very same.”
“And …?” Beck rolled her hand, waiting for Kristin to add details.
“And you can read all about it in the morning paper.”
Beck snorted. “I’m going to bust a gut getting this testing done for you in a rush and that’s the best you can do?”
Kristin rolled her shoulders to ease the tension that had been building there ever since they’d found Balor’s body. “I suspect that what you’ve got in front of you is vampire ichor.”
“I’m sorry, did you just say vampire, as in Dracula, Lost Boys, Twilight and True Blood?”
Kristin nodded. “They’re real, Beck, seriously, honest-to-God real. I’ve been to the place where they live here in the city and apparently they aren’t just in Seattle, they’re everywhere.”
Beck sat back in her chair, clearly stunned. She snapped her mouth shut, her eyes coming back into sharp focus. “Do you know what this means? This is going to cause mass panic. Hysteria. People are going to freak. You’re unveiling their nightmares for real.”
Beck’s reaction stung a bit. “I’m trying to do exactly the opposite. I’m not writing this to sensationalize vampires. Actually, I’m hoping the article will help dispel some of the myths and maybe quell the drama.”
Beck snorted. “Not damn likely, but good luck with that. So you think this stuff is like vampire blood?”
“If my hunch is right, it’s what keeps them immortal.”
Beck pulled her glasses down and massaged her temple. “And what, other than for your article, are you going to do with the information of the chemical makeup when I give it to you?”
“This stuff could hold the key to unlocking some major leaps in health care if we can replicate it or find out how it works.”
“Whoa. Back up. You mean you’ve seen people shoot up with this stuff?” She tapped the vial, making the black liquid within agitate.
“Not exactly. People were being treated in a special clinic with a mix of this with regular blood. According to the physician I met there, it was helping where our modern medical treatments couldn’t, curing things like inoperable cancer.”
“Can you get me some more to test?”
Kristin shook her head. “I’m nervous enough taking this sample.”
“But you’ll have details about the healing properties in your upcoming article, right?”
Kristin shook her head. “I’m not writing about this part of it until I know what’s in that vial. Then I can get a list of questions from you and ask the vampire doc I talked to, if you want.”
Beck nodded vigorously. “Look, if you can get me details, we’ll call this an even trade, my testing for the info.”
“Sure. You get the results for me, and if this isn’t just ink in a bottle and we can pinpoint what makes it tick, then I’ve got some groundbreaking news to cover.”
“Uh, yeah. More groundbreaking than telling the world vampires really exist? You sure know how to pick ‘em, Kris, I’ll give you that.”
An image of Dmitri, with his dark penetrating eyes and powerful build, immediately sprang to mind, making her skin feel suddenly a size too small. “You have no idea.”
Chapter 11
Kristin flipped on the morning news and nearly spewed hot coffee across her television screen. People were chanting and marching with signs held high above their heads outside the Tribune offices and city hall. BAN VAMPIRES, VAMPIRES SUCK, NO BLOODSUCKERS IN MY TOWN and a few other more colorful variations bobbed in rhythm in front of the cameras.
“… protestors are demanding a citywide search for the vampires, asking for them to be quarantined as a health hazard and threat to public safety until officials can provide citizens with assurances that the vampires mean no harm to residents of Seattle.” The reporter spoke in tones guaranteed to incite the people watching the news.
The image shifted to a middle-aged woman with glasses who spoke into a microphone. “We don’t know what they’re capable of. Until we do, we have a right to public safety. I’m scared for myself and my children.”
A man in a red flannel shirt and ball cap appeared next. “Wouldn’t surprise me if they’re the reason behind the Bloodless Murders.”
Kristin flipped the channel, but there was only more of the same. More protestors. More panic. More reporters squeezing every last bit out of the story, just as she had, but from a whole different angle.
Her staff mug shot, which ran next to her byline, popped up on the screen in all its scary full-color glory. “Pacific News Tribune investigative reporter Kristin Reed broke the story after spending time with the group of vampires here in Seattle that call themselves the Cascade Clan—”
Another channel wasn’t any better. “Now that one of the staples of Halloween has become a real-life nightmare, many are concerned what new developments will occur now that vampires are out of the coffin. Back to you, Phil.”
Kristin groaned, letting her head fall back on her couch as she muted the television. Why did people have to overreact? If they’d actually read the article, they would have realized how vampires had been there all along and there hadn’t been any mass killings. There was really nothing to worry about. Except possibly from the reivers, which she had purposely left out of the first article. Humans were every bit as dangerous as vampires. The crime rate alone proved that. Why all of a sudden did they act as if vampires were responsible for everything wrong with the world? She’d tried so damn hard to be objective and informative. It was frustrating as hell.
If this public outcry didn’t throw the suits at the paper for a loop, the second article would run tomorrow. She could only imagine how these hyped-up vamp haters would react when she gave details about the donor-vampire relationship and described exactly what happened when a vampire bit you. An insistent throb built behind her eyes as morning coverage of the picket line continued. Her cell phone rang and she got up off the couch to grab it.
“Where are you?” It was Hollander.
“I’m taking the day off, remember?”
“I know that, but where are you?”
“Does it matter?” For a moment she wished that she were in Dmitri’s apartment. Sure, he’d likely be dead to the world, passed out asleep at this time of day, but that didn’t matter. Perhaps it wouldn’t be any more secure than her own apartment, but she couldn’t help but feel safer, more protected, when he
was around.
“You’re at home? Good. Stay there. Watch your back, Reed. We’ve got a bunch of nut jobs down here picketing the place. The phones have been ringing off the hook. And you’ve already had four death threats phoned in.” Hollander sounded excited as hell.
That would have Dmitri wound up when he found out. All it did for her was make her more agitated. She might have to hire security—or stick real close to Dmitri. She glanced at the black phone he’d given her. She had a direct line to him. Anytime, anywhere. So why did that thought make her just as uneasy as the thought of being without him? She shifted in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her.
“Yeah, I saw all the commotion on the news. A banner day at the Trib.”
Hollander chuckled. “Nothing sells papers better than controversy. Your article touched a nerve.”
A raw feeling scraped away at the back of her throat, forcing her to swallow. What if the suits who owned the paper saw the next story as too big of a risk? Would she be just a one-hit wonder? And once Dmitri read it, how was he going to react? Worse still, how would her father and Beck react when they found out she’d let a vampire drink from her?
“We’re still running the second installment tomorrow, right?” she asked.
“Of course! When can you get part three handed in?”
Just how protective was Dmitri going to be when he discovered she’d stolen the ichor and had it analyzed? Hell, she might need protection from him. She shivered and rubbed her arms, a sudden chill sweeping over her. She doubted that anything could protect someone from Dmitri if they were on his bad side. “Once I get some test results back.”
“Good. Just send it in as soon as you can.”
Right now Kristin had bigger problems than a deadline. Vane and his little band of merry vampires were going to read the article and be out for blood tonight. Specifically her blood—and not as some erotic feeding fest. She flinched as an image of Vane’s red eyes flashed in her mind. Balor had been gutted like a deer during hunting season. And Vane had promised to do even worse to her.
The Truth about Vampires Page 12