Shadow Chaser (Undeadly Secrets Book 3)

by Aaron L Speer

  “I would’ve thought you might have enjoyed the thought of going with her?”

  Clive tapped the toe of his shoe. “That’s not what I meant. I just think it’s a bad idea.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Well, the darkness. The craziness. The Shadow Killer.”

  “You mean Nightingale?”

  “Well…no. Hear me out. I’ve seen this guy up close. I’ve gone over the police reports, the eyewitness accounts. And as brutal as Nightingale is, this just doesn’t match up. His actions and his attitude don’t correlate to the way the bodies are left. The sexual attacks.”

  “Did Melina and Lauren not find him having sex with a woman in their first encounter?”

  “Yeah, but from what it sounded like, he was just having sex and biting her. I mean, the usual, you know? Even you’ve done that. And when he fought Lauren and Melina, he beat them up pretty good, but he didn’t kill them.”

  “It sounded like he was willing and able to do just that.”

  “Yeah, exactly my point. Willing and able, but then why didn’t he? From what Lauren could remember and tell me, he was playing with them. Enjoying himself. He has an ego. He liked fighting. But he left it at that. This killer, though…the way he leaves the bodies means he must get off somehow on the sex and the death. Maybe he’s crazy, I don’t know. But what I do know is that there have been some reports of blood loss on the victims. But not enough to think they’ve been fed off of. Just wounds. You can only have sex after feeding. None of these women were fed off of, Dante. It doesn’t add up. The Shadow Killer doesn’t play.”

  Clive’s logic was beginning to bubble higher in Dante’s mind. “So you’re convinced Nightingale isn’t our killer?”

  “Ninety percent sure. And if I’m right, you’re wasting your time hunting the wrong man. Who knows where this other vile piece of shit will strike next?”

  Dante leant back in his chair and stroked his chin. What Clive said made sense. What was worse, that meant as vicious and difficult as Nightingale was—and they still had to catch him—there was something much worse out there, stalking women. Waiting for them. Hunting them.

  Chapter 22

  I’ll Be Watching You

  Melina sidled past a large fuel truck and edged into the alley. Along one side, a barrel fire flickered against the brick wall. Melina mentally snorted, thinking it seemed right out of a Hollywood movie about derelict city streets somewhere in 1980s America. Yet this was Glebe, a small part of the city that Melina had to admit most Sydneysiders considered derelict.

  The only souls to be found in this cramped alley were generally homeless people who just wanted to keep warm by the fire. Melina knew they would get no warmth from it, however, as the fire was merely an illusion. The base had been bolted down to the ground as well. People using this barrel were meant to stand in exactly that spot.

  Melina positioned herself over it, peering at the flames that brought no heat. She made sure she was alone and bit her hand, turning the wound over and letting a few drops fall into the depths of the barrel. Vampire blood was the only key.

  The mechanisms underneath her feet whirred and crunched, unlatching and unlocking. The barrel split in two and moved apart, revealing something like a child’s playground slide, but this one led down into a black void. With a little hop, Melina dropped into the smooth chute, some hundred metres or so.

  Melina had been through this many times, and came out the end facing the circular grand entryway to Undeadly Desires, bathed in a cool neon magenta, the club’s signature colour.

  “Melina…” The hostess Seraphine looked pale. Worn and distraught. “When we contacted the king we didn’t expect him to send you. I’m glad to see you, though.”

  Melina had no time for pleasantries. “Who was killed? Was it Bobbi?”

  Seraphine shook her head and swallowed. “No, she’s safe. It’s Angel.”

  “What happened?” Melina supported herself on the high desk. She had kept her fear to herself ever since Clive had mentioned where the attack had taken place. But even so, she had been with Angel a few times. She was wonderful. For a human. Her delight at providing sustenance to vampires put everyone at ease, and it made feeding more of a mutual pleasure than Melina would otherwise have thought possible. She remembered fondly how Angel would giggle and squeak with glee at being nibbled on the backs of her knees.

  “It started out like a regular night. Nothing unusual. I was down here and one of the girls ran through and told me there was an emergency upstairs. I followed her back up and… I just crumbled when I saw that room. It was completely destroyed. Poor Angel was on the floor, her hip dislocated. Half…half of her skull was missing.”

  “Fucking Nightingale.”

  “Yeah…I’ve never seen him so livid. It was scary, and heartbreaking too.”

  Melina studied Seraphine carefully. Nothing about that sentence made sense. “Livid? What do you mean?”

  “The girls only figured out what had happened when he started screaming in the room. They found him over her body.”

  “Why didn’t anyone try to stop him? Pull him off her? Protect her?”

  “Have you seen how strong he is?”

  Melina gave a huff. “Once or twice.”

  “Then you know there is no way of telling him or forcing him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. We just had to let him go. He wouldn’t let anyone in the room. He just went on smashing it up in a blind rage.”

  Melina paced briefly, visualising what she was being told. “He’s a fucking monster. I will find a way to kill him and avenge Angel. He will pay for what he has done.”

  Seraphine looked confused. “Wait… Do you think Lee killed Angel?”

  Melina felt her own uncertainty returning. Lee? They’re on a first-name basis? “What—? Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Melina, you’ve got it all wrong. Lee found her first.”

  Melina took a moment to process this. It was like taking a blow to the temple. She was taken utterly off-guard. “What?”

  “Lee was the first one to find her. Tonight is their night together. Ever since he broke out of the dungeons, he’s visited her several times a week.”

  Still unable to accept what Seraphine was saying, she spoke her rushing thoughts aloud. “He obviously snapped and couldn’t hold in his bloodlust anymore. Ran out of victims for tonight.”

  “Melina, I don’t know what you are talking about. Lee didn’t do this. He couldn’t’ve.”

  Melina barked a harsh laugh. “I don’t know how much you know about Lee, but I know first-hand what that sadistic son of a bitch can do. He’s beaten me unconscious twice! Don’t you dare tell me he isn’t capable.”

  “No no no, that’s not what I meant. He is absolutely capable. He’s the strongest vampire I’ve ever seen. What I mean is, he would never hurt Angel. He could never hurt her. She wasn’t just his favourite girl. Everyone knew they were more than client and you know, service provider.”

  Melina scoffed. “He never seemed like the loving type to me.” She made for the entrance to the strip club portion of the establishment.

  “Melina,” Seraphine called. “There are many in here and elsewhere who’ve said the same thing about you.”

  Melina was brought up short by these words. She absorbed them before speaking matter-of-factly. “I need to see the room.”

  Seraphine swallowed. “Do you want me to escort you?”

  “I’ll just follow the melancholy upstairs.”

  Melina pushed through the double doors of the club into a room awash with magenta light highlighting the stools along the bar and the way to the private rooms. Loud music crashed around her. The main stage housed three poles for dancers, backlit with a magenta waterfall that cascaded down into a mini pool and snaked around the island of the main stage. This backdrop had made for some very interesting mermaid routines. On certain nights, customers won the opportunity to join the girls on stage for lap dances, or if the girls deemed a client att
ractive or flavourful enough, a mass feeding.

  Melina had seen a few of these shows, and had even been invited on stage a time or two to partake. But she always declined; she was a watcher first.

  Melina ignored the few waves of acknowledgement she received and moved towards the private rooms and her true destination. The part of the club most had no idea about. There were several private rooms facing opposite each other along the corridor, and at the end of the hallway was a plain red wall, and a small table with a vase full of flowers.

  Melina tapped her foot under the table, and turned the vase a quarter turn. Clockwise twice, counter clockwise once.

  The wall sunk back a few inches and slid across, revealing the VIP portion of Undeadly Desires. The brothel. Flooded in deep red and bright gold light, the room’s décor and uniform colour of employees maintained the theme. As Melina crossed the threshold and the wall fixed itself, she could hear the sounds of primal joy, some authentic, some not. Most of the girls and boys here did a great job. Those who did not weren’t around for long. But right now, Melina sensed tension in the air, fear. And seconds later, she came across the reason.

  Room Seven. Angel’s room.

  Melina ventured inside and felt lucky she had closed the door. She leant her back against it so fast she probably would’ve fallen if she hadn’t had the support of something firm. If she’d been one who was inclined to vomit, she surely would have. The bedsheets were completely drenched with crimson. Dents and holes adorned various parts of the wall behind the bed, and imbedded in the plaster, directly over the head of the bed was an iron spike, sticky blood still dripping like syrup from the end. The chandelier that had hung from the ceiling in the middle of the room had crashed to the floor, bits of crystal splaying out all around.

  Next to it, was Angel’s body. Not even over two hundred years of experiences of the horrors of life and death could stop Melina from closing her eyes briefly. Her mind did not want to admit that what she saw was real.

  Angel’s body lay broken. Both her knees had ruptured, her fibulas had snapped and pushed through the skin. Her body glistened in parts with blood that had not dried yet. Some of the darkest parts were ante-mortem bruising. She must have been beaten for hours before she’d died. Huge swaths of black and purple blood pooling under the skin. Finger marks. Outlines of fists. Bite marks. But this gave Melina pause. These weren’t vampire bites; they looked more human.

  Both Angel’s hands had deep gouges in the palms. Punctures that went clear through. Melina shakily followed the line of Angel’s body down and gasped as she beheld the younger woman’s groin. The iron spike. All around the tops of her thighs were slash marks, more bruising with straight edges. Her vagina yawned open, stretched unnaturally. Deformed. Torn.

  Melina felt an acrid taste in the back of her throat. Angel had been beaten and battered with the spike, violated with it, or something else, and then was nailed up by her hands to the wall.

  “Oh, Angel…” Nightingale must have taken her down and placed her here, if I’m to believe Seraphine.

  The side of Angel’s face and jaw looked like it had been eaten away, her teeth visible under the flesh of the cheeks.

  Melina rarely cried, especially not over the loss of a human, but she could not stop the hot tears from coming. Silent and quick.

  Any reason Melina had for coming in here quickly left her brain. What was I looking for? Evidence against Nightingale? A clue? A reason? A motive?

  Her mind was a fog like the one that hung over the city. Nothing could penetrate it. She had to leave, get out of this room, this place.

  When she reached the main desk, it only took Seraphine one look at Melina’s face and she understood.

  “I warned you. I’m so sorry,” Seraphine said, downcast.

  Melina placed her hands on top of the desk. “I need to know anything you can tell me about what you heard. When Nightingale came. Before that. Anything.”

  “I told you, Melina. Lee didn’t do—”

  “I know.” Melina cut her off. “You told me. I don’t know what to believe but I need something. Something I can go back to Dante with. Whoever is doing this needs to be stopped. If it’s not Nightingale, then it’s even more urgent that we figure this out fast. I need to know if you know anything.”

  Seraphine looked down and shook her head. “I had just escorted a client out of the brothel when I heard Angel screaming. But screams weren’t unusual for her. With Lee, they shook the walls—”

  Melina held up a hand and whirred it in a circle. Get on with it.

  “Right. So, at first, I just thought Lee was in there. But when I got back to the desk, Lee came in. It seemed strange for a second, but things were busy, and I didn’t have a chance to think anything more about it. Then he began to rage. And now here we are.”

  Melina nodded, frustrated that there was so little to go on.

  “Wait,” Seraphine continued. “There was one thing.”

  “What?”

  “Something Lee said. ‘Fucking king’ or something like that.”

  “King?” Melina stood straighter. Nightingale thought Dante was responsible. “Oh, fuck.”

  Chapter 23

  Fight Night

  Dante heard the frantic footsteps and knew who it was, but felt no desire to rush to welcome her. The pins and needles in his thighs were holding him up regardless. Melina burst through the door, cracking the hinges. “Alejandro! Where are you?”

  “Waiting desperately for the lady of the house to return, can’t you tell?”

  Melina rolled her eyes and waved her hands frantically. “Whatever. No time for that shit. We have to leave now. Right now.”

  “Oh really?”

  Melina grabbed his arm and tried to pull him towards the door. “Yes. No packing. No wasting time. We’ll get you set up somewhere. Anywhere. Nightingale was there tonight. I only just missed him.”

  “Ah, yes, good that you bring him up. We need to talk about Nightingale. Clive made me think things over about him.”

  “Listen to me. He might not be the one doing all this. Walk and talk.”

  “Yes, that’s what Clive said, but—” Dante shook himself loose from her grip. “Wait! Listen! Nightingale may not be the one killing these women, but he is still dangerous, still a loose cannon. He was locked up for a reason. He needs to be brought to… Do you smell that?”

  Melina looked up, and held her nose higher. She had to have smelt it too. Fumes. Octane. Wafting in from the outside.

  “Fuel?”

  They looked at each other with alarm. They heard the screeching of the tires racing closer, and then both were blown off their feet as the room around them quaked. She screamed and ducked as did Dante. The window behind them caved in as flames billowed and crashed into the room. Perhaps it was a few seconds, but seemed more like several minutes before the flames subsided, leaving burning scorch marks on every surface, smoke flowing out of the room. Dante crawled over to Melina. She struggled to rise, trying to remove the glass fragments in her cheek.

  Dante turned to the window and the open void it had become. That’s where the fuel scent had come from. Where the source was. The flames had ceased for now and the scent too. Should I chance a look?

  Dante first helped Melina to her feet, then made his way slowly to the window and finally some fresh air. He stared down at the blazing inferno of his front yard, and then at the tall figure strolling towards him from the street, coat flapping behind him, long blonde hair framing his head. Nightingale. Behind him, a fuel truck, the fuel hose casually tossed to the ground. The gravel of the driveway had trenches dug beneath the truck’s tires, caused by his sudden braking at speed.

  Melina swore, but the tone was more of regret than anger. “He knew. He waited for me. For someone from the king. He didn’t have to even ask anyone. He followed me…”

  Dante eased her hand away from his arm and took a step closer to the edge of the cindered and smoking balcony.

  “Alejandr
o. No.”

  Melina’s voice was hard to comprehend. There was genuine fear there. Desperation as well. Melina rarely ever showed such open emotion. Nightingale stopped at the beginning of the stone path leading up to the front door. He stood statue-still and looked up, eyes only for Dante. Green eyes locked on red.

  “Alejandro, you can’t, you still haven’t fed properly.” She gripped his shirt. The fact that her gesture aided in keeping him upright was not a good sign.

  “I have to.”

  Dante turned to head for the stairs but Melina stepped in front of him. “I will not let you do this. It’s suicide! We couldn’t even take him together. And he’s more powerful in his rage. That’s what I came to tell you. He thinks you’re the one who had Angel killed!”

  “What?”

  “Never mind that now. But listen. There’s a way to take him down. There must be. We will find a way. But not this way. You can’t win!”

  Dante clasped the sides of her cheeks. “Stop.”

  “Alejandro, please…”

  Her tears had begun to fall, and like usual, it broke his heart. When they separated again, he took the time to marvel at her. The memory of what their life could have been all those years ago flooding back to him. All the possibilities. Children and grandchildren. There was a time when she was all he thought of, all he loved. But that was a long time ago. And although he could not deny a part of him still longed for the touch only she could provide, it wasn’t enough to sway him from his duty. To his city. To himself. But also to the one person that Dante couldn’t get out of his mind. Facing Nightingale here and now, he knew he would probably never see her again. Thankfully, he had gotten to taste her lips one last time. But she would never know the truth. She would never know how he felt. If he could’ve had one more chance, he would vow to tell her, as she deserved to know.

  “Melina, please find Alexandra. Tell her I’m sorry.” He blinked then, trying to put Alex out of his mind and stay in the moment. He carefully stroked Melina’s tear-stained cheek with his thumb. She held his hand tighter against her face, not daring to let him go. A last-ditch effort to make him stay with her. Pleading with him wordlessly for her to be enough.