X-Rated Bloodsuckers

by Mario Acevedo

  “The attempts on your”—she made quote marks with her fingers—“life. What happened in Pacoima and today at the bistro.”

  “Those were misunderstandings? You weren’t trying to kill me?”

  “No. Those were Paxton’s ideas.”

  “Was he acting on orders? From you? Or Cragnow Vissoom?”

  Venin smiled, the way a snake might if it had lips…and a lazy eye. “Cragnow’s afraid of you.”

  He had good reason. “Then he’s the one who ordered the hits on me?”

  “Please don’t hold anything against him if I say yes. We’ve moved on since then.” She opened a drawer and pulled out a packet of Newports.

  “So plan A was me dead. Plan B is this meeting.”

  “Plan A? Plan B?” Venin looked puzzled. After a moment she gave a tinny laugh. “I get it. Yes, plan B. Here you are. Plan B.” She lit a cigarette with a cheap plastic lighter and stared cross-eyed at the flame.

  “How did you and Cragnow Vissoom get together?”

  “Ah that,” she drawled, exhaling smoke. Her painted fingernails clicked on the desktop. “He wanted help with zoning variances concerning his porn business. My staff and I were meeting with him in my council office when he took off his sunglasses and gave us that look.”

  “The vampire stare?”

  Venin nodded. Cigarette smoke surrounded her head. “Everyone else in the room sat fish-mouthed and stupid-looking. But nothing happened to me. Cragnow gave another stare. He showed his big teeth and claws. It would have been a great Halloween gag…except that it was May.”

  This is how she recalled her introduction to an undead killer? As a joke? “And Cragnow’s reaction?”

  “He acted more confused that I was.”

  With those eyes of yours, no shit.

  “Afterward, I realized I should have screamed and wet my panties—that is what women are expected to do when they meet a vampire.” Venin took a long drag on the Newport. “At the time I was thinking this guy knows how hard it is to schedule a meeting with me and here he was doing a bad impression of Bela Lugosi.”

  In those situations, a vampire would’ve attacked. “I’m surprised he let you live.”

  “Cragnow needed a zoning variance. I couldn’t do that dead.” Venin crushed the cigarette into the ashtray. “He demonstrated the trance: mesmerizing my staff was no trick when they answered any question, no matter how personal.” Venin paused and smiled. “I learned who on my staff cheated on their spouses, who embezzled money, and who leaked stories to my opponents and the press. At that point I grasped the significance of Cragnow’s gift.”

  Venin paused again. “Imagine, Mr. Gomez, searching all your life for an edge, a leg up on the competition. And one day, that supreme advantage walks in your door.”

  “You’re talking about the hypnosis?” I asked.

  “What else? If I teamed with Cragnow, no one could keep secrets from us.”

  “Team with Cragnow? Why would he do that?”

  “Because I told him he had this potential, and all he wanted was a zoning variance to make nudie pics. What a waste of an opportunity. That also made me realize how small my own ambitions were, especially when he revealed what he was.”

  “A vampire,” I replied. “And that didn’t scare you?”

  “He had come to my office asking for a shortcut through the red tape. So he wasn’t all-powerful.”

  “And you haven’t wondered why his hypnosis doesn’t affect you?”

  “Neither does Jenny Craig, and you don’t hear me whining about that.” Venin readied another cigarette, as if the room didn’t stink enough.

  “You’re the only human I’ve met who can resist hypnosis,” I said.

  “Apparently.”

  “Why? How?” My kundalini noir knotted and thrashed. “You’re among vampires. They drink blood.”

  “How my constituents gain sustenance isn’t my concern.” Venin spoke despite having a cigarette in her mouth. One eye followed me, the other bounced along with the cigarette tip. “This is L.A., the home of fad diets.”

  “Constituents?”

  She lit the Newport and dropped the lighter into a drawer. “Cragnow told me about your ‘undead’ society and that he was the leader. Mr. Gomez, open your eyes.”

  I couldn’t decide which of her eyes to look at.

  “One moment I’m Petale Venin, more councilwoman, the next moment I have access to super hypnosis and a secret army of vampires.”

  Here it was, the target of my investigation—vampire–human collusion.

  “With this knowledge,” Venin said, “my ambitions grew and grew as we crossed one threshold after another.”

  “Threshold?”

  “Some thresholds involved eliminating those who stood in my way.”

  “You mean murder?”

  “You’re a vampire. What do you care about murder?”

  “I care about one. Roxy Bronze.”

  Venin grimaced. “Her again.” An ember from the cigarette dropped onto her blouse. Her right eye tracked the falling ash.

  “Her name bothers you?” I asked.

  “Not as much as it used to.”

  “Why?”

  Venin brushed the ash off her blouse. “Because she’s dead.”

  “How much do you know about her murder?”

  “Only what was in the media.”

  Like I would believe that. “Do you know who killed her?” I didn’t expect Venin to jump up and yell, “Me, me,” but I had to ask.

  “If I did,” she replied, “I’d name a street after them.”

  “Them?” I asked.

  “Them. Him. Her. Whoever.”

  “Considering this arrangement you have with Cragnow, why so much trouble with Roxy? Why didn’t you use hypnosis or sic vampires on her?”

  “As you know, there are limits to those powers and when you can use them.”

  “So you tried something?”

  Venin stabbed the cigarette butt into the ashtray. “I didn’t bring you here to discuss Roxy. I have an offer for you.” Her mouth curved into a smile. Both eyes stared in my direction. “Join me.”

  Join her? This was no public radio membership drive. “Does Cragnow know about this? He is trying to kill me.”

  “Don’t concern yourself with him. Cragnow has no say in this matter.” Venin’s smile cooled.

  “I’m sure he’ll object and—”

  Venin interrupted, her voice chilling several degrees. “Cragnow has no say in this matter.”

  “Meaning what?”

  “You misunderstand the relationship between Cragnow and myself.”

  “What’s to misunderstand? As the vampire, he—”

  Again she interrupted, her tone ice cold. “Cragnow Vissoom will do as he’s told.”

  Told? Cragnow was the head of the L.A. nidus. Petale Venin—a human—was his boss? She commanded the undead in Southern California? The vampire–human collusion was worse than what the Araneum feared.

  “How can you be in charge?” I asked.

  “Because I understand Cragnow. I know what he wants. I know how he can get there.”

  “You’ve lost me.”

  “This arrangement he and I have is not about petty zoning variances. It’s about laying the foundation for a new tomorrow.”

  “What kind of new tomorrow?” I recalled Lucky Rosario paraphrasing Cragnow…lifting humanity to a new partnership with the unseen realm…the next step in social evolution.

  “That doesn’t concern you, Mr. Gomez. Not yet.”

  “Then when?”

  “I’ll tell you.”

  “Why aren’t you a vampire?” I asked. “Wouldn’t you want to take advantage of supernatural powers?”

  “Because I know everything, Mr. Gomez. I own many chalice parlors, including the Majestic Lanes.”

  That admission knocked the breath out of me. Venin mentioned this to flaunt how familiar she was with the secret vampire underworld.

  My talo
ns and fangs grew. My kundalini noir coiled upon itself, tensing to strike. I forced myself to keep still and not lunge to decapitate her. At the first instant of an attack, the guard behind me would stitch my back with silver bullets.

  Venin nodded, enjoying my discomfort. “I know your strengths and weaknesses. The hypnosis, levitation…strengths. Your appetite for blood…weakness. Your vulnerability to sunlight. Another weakness. And your biggest weakness of all, the fear of being discovered and exterminated by humans.”

  She didn’t mention auras or our transmutation into wolves. So maybe she didn’t know everything.

  “I join your team and then what?”

  “You’ll be given a special mission. For some reason, this arrangement between Cragnow and myself is a big taboo. Word of our collaboration got out, and vampire spies were sent to question Cragnow.”

  Did she mean the agents from the Araneum? “What happened to these spies?”

  “Two I witnessed getting roasted by the morning sun. A marvelous spectacle.” Venin wrinkled her nose and smiled, as if sniffing a freshly baked cinnamon roll.

  “What do you want me to do?”

  “Infiltrate the Araneum.”

  I might as well shove dynamite up my ass. “Why me?”

  “Because Cragnow suspects you may be one of their vampire spies.”

  I faked a chuckle. “That’s ridiculous.”

  “You’d become a double agent, working for me. So what is your answer? Join me or not?”

  “This is a serious decision. I’d have to think about it.”

  Venin’s lips scrunched together, as if she had sucked on a tart lemon. “Think about it? That’s a polite way of saying no. My offer is withdrawn.” One eye cut to the guard, the other stared at me. Her aura surrounded her like a steady red flame. “It’s been a displeasure to know you, Mr. Gomez.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Venin didn’t change shape, but in the moments that I’d been here she had transformed from a plump matron to one of the most threatening creatures I’d ever seen. I wouldn’t have been more surprised if she had grown mandibles and a stinger tail.

  The guard rousted me from the chair and pushed me toward the door. I knew better than to resist and get ventilated by silver bullets. A last glance at Venin showed a tiny, smug smile curving her mouth and the mismatched focus of those eyes.

  My death was as certain as the coming night.

  Except the guard made two mistakes.

  One. He still wore his sunglasses, which prevented him from reading my aura.

  Two. I had my pistol.

  The guard clasped my left shoulder and pressed the muzzle of his Uzi against the small of my back.

  My kundalini noir writhed and twisted on itself in anticipation.

  Strike. Destroy. Kill.

  My talons and fangs jutted out.

  I whirled to my right and knocked the submachine gun away from me. The gun fired a burst that tore into the door. I popped the guard with an upper cut, hitting his chin hard enough to daze him.

  I drew my pistol and thumbed the safety.

  I kicked the guard in the crotch, and he doubled toward me. I pressed the muzzle against his forehead and fired once. Vampire blood sprayed into the air and turned into red dust.

  The guard fell and landed on his back. Smoke plumed from the hole in his forehead. I aimed for the center of his chest and fired again.

  The bullet punched a hole in his shirt. His aura dimmed and was gone, like the flame of a snuffed candle. His body would last until sunlight cremated it into ash.

  Now for Venin. With my pistol raised and my talons ready, I panned the room. She was gone, having fled through the door beside her desk.

  The elevator pinged. The reports from my pistol summoned attention like an alarm. The doors clicked open and fast, heavy footfalls rushed toward me.

  I had learned enough and there was no reason to risk more danger by staying around. Which way out?

  The hall? I’d run right into those coming to get me.

  The door? I didn’t know what waited on the other side.

  Then up.

  I leaped and clawed through the acoustical tile. The ceiling hung from a concrete slab that separated the floors. The concrete was too thick to break, so I scrambled between the tile ceiling and the concrete, levitating so that I moved as lightly as a beetle. The galvanized ducting of the building’s air-conditioning glittered before me.

  The ducting was wide enough for me to shimmy through and escape. I tore open the galvanized steel wall.

  Cool air tousled my hair. The breeze came from the left, the direction of the air conditioner that should sit on top of the building. I slithered into the ducting and crawled upwind.

  Even though I was levitating, to move I had to brace my elbows, knees, and feet against the metal sides and push. The galvanized steel buckled and sent groans echoing down the ducts.

  Muted voices called for me. Someone fired a gun and bullets thwacked the ducting, sounding like nails pounded into a can.

  I crawled through piles of greasy dust and mouse nests. The little critters leapt before me, as surprised as I would be if a rhino charged through my home.

  I climbed the final vertical shaft. Ahead, the fan from the air conditioner roared and spewed an icy blast. I drew close, the squirrel cage fan spinning like a gigantic mincer.

  I reached behind me and ripped loose a long strip of the galvanized steel. Carefully, I fed the strip into the fan, backing away and letting go when the blades snagged the steel.

  The steel strip wound around the fan cage, slapping the sides, squealing, slowing with a creak, and then stopping. The electric motor driving the fan moaned and began to smoke.

  I reached through the fan and tore the drive belt. The electric motor immediately churned free, but no matter, the squirrel cage fan wouldn’t move. I grasped the central shaft and levered the fan off its bearings.

  Bracing my feet against the ducting, I pushed the fan aside to make room to crawl through. My free hand touched a filter pad silted with the residue of Los Angeles smog.

  Christ, we breathed this air?

  I straight-armed the filter pad and pushed through a louvered vent cover, folding the metal.

  I crawled onto the roof, the asphalt and gravel still warm from the day’s sun. I coughed to clear the crap inhaled from inside the ducting. My mouth tasted like I’d been chewing the canister bag of a vacuum cleaner. I couldn’t smell anything through my clogged nose.

  I sloughed the powdery grime from my clothes. The indigo bowl of the evening sky faded to cobalt blue over the western horizon. All around me, the horizon was lit up from the glow of suburban lights.

  The building sat in a small complex along a busy throughfare that ran north and south. My best escape was through a nearby stand of eucalyptus trees and then to find a way of crossing the many miles back to Coyote’s.

  I dashed across the roof and jumped for the eucalyptus trees. I swung through the twisted branches Tarzan style, weaving through the trees until I was out of sight from the building.

  Once I put enough distance between Venin’s goons and myself, I dropped to the ground and dashed into the street. I sprinted behind a delivery truck and jumped on the rear bumper. Clinging to the rear door, I rode along for several blocks.

  A Buick sedan crowded behind us, the driver a balding man too absorbed with his cell phone to notice me.

  We slowed for a traffic light and I dismounted, heading for the parking lot of a Longs Drug. A sprinkler irrigated the grass on the narrow strip between the sidewalk and a row of hedges flanking the parking lot. I stopped to rinse my face and hands. Without makeup, my skin had a translucent pallor. I rinsed my mouth and spat, thankful to finally get rid of the awful taste of air-conditioner duct.

  Tall lamps illuminating the parking lot cast shadows on my side of the hedge. Humans in their red auras sauntered to and from the cars and the store. I had dropped my sunglasses and, tapping my pockets, discovered that I had l
ost my contacts as well.

  With my makeup all but gone, in these filthy clothes, and with my eyes unmasked—my tapetum lucidum resplendent with an unholy shine—there was no way I could mingle with the humans. A flatulent skunk would be less noticeable.

  Still, I had to get away as fast as possible. Venin’s undead thugs would cruise the streets, on the watch for my telltale orange aura.

  CHAPTER 38

  A Kia sedan sat in the middle of the parking lot. A middle-aged woman in a burgundy dress and blazer took brisk steps toward the little car. A short ponytail dangled over the back of her collar. She passed through the circle of light under the lamp, and the glare painted sparkling highlights on her face and blond head. She chatted into a cell phone, a plastic shopping bag hanging from one arm, and keys jangling from her free hand.

  She approached the Kia from the right. My path to her would be from the left, her blind side. I could easily traverse the parking lot and she wouldn’t notice me until I was on her. I crept away from the hedge, wary that Venin’s vampires were on the prowl. I walked toward the woman, resisting the urge to break into a run.

  The Kia’s lights flickered as the woman reached for the driver’s door. She snapped her phone closed.

  I said, “Nice car.”

  The woman turned around, startled. Her aura blazed from surprise.

  I gave her a smile and an intense vampire stare.

  Her aura lit up brighter, like I had reached into her and turned up the psychic rheostat.

  “Relax,” I said. “You’ll be fine.” I walked her to the passenger’s side and buckled her in tight.

  The drive to Coyote’s would take an hour. My gaze wasn’t enough to hold this woman in hypnosis. I’d have to fang this blonde to keep her unconscious for a while.

  I drove to the side of the store, where I halted in the shadows. I pulled her close, loosened the blazer, and unbuttoned the top of her blouse.

  This woman, whoever she was, I guessed to be in her early forties. A dainty, pretty face. Thin, bony frame. Her skirt, hitched above her knees, revealed narrow calves tapering to skinny ankles. She wore a gold wedding set.

  I reached over her and released the seat back until her torso lay at a low angle. Caressing her hair, I tilted her head to expose a sumptuous throat.