She suspected they weren’t really dead, just sleeping … like the dead. Very soundly asleep.
She hit the minibar and went straight for the vodka murmuring, “Hair of the dog that bit me …” After three shots back to back and a grimace from the burn, her headache started dying down. She ordered room service and wolfed down eggs, fruit, sausage, and heavy wheat toast. She was ravenously hungry.
In the bathroom, after her shower, she stood before the mirror, assessing the damage. Her eyes looked a little sunken, she’d lost some weight. They were sucking the life out of her, literally. That’s when it hit like punch to the gut, she needed them…NOW!
Her hands shook, her belly rolled over in nausea, and she broke into a cold sweat. The closer she got to their bed, the more hysterical she felt. “Fuck! God dammit!” It was 4:30 p.m., at least another hour till sunset! “Oh gaaad help meeee!” She cried, tears streaming down her face. And that’s when she remembered.
The injection! Michelle set it aside last night! She raced to the shelf, tearing open the diabetic kit to remove the needle with shaking hands. She needed a tie-off, something to tie her arm off. Ana yanked one of Michelle’s belts from a dresser drawer and cinched it down tight on her left arm just above the bicep. The belt holes didn’t line up. She pulled it tight with her teeth as she smacked the inner crook of her elbow with two fingers to watch the vein pop out in her left arm. With hands shaking and sweat pouring down her forehead, she carefully inserted the needle into her vein. Slowly, oh so slowly. She mustered enough control to gradually-carefully depress the plunger all the way down.
Dropping the belt from her teeth, it hit her all at once. The venom punched her entire body, rocketing to her erogenous zones in milliseconds, dumping massive endorphins all along the way. She rocked and spasmed. Her back arched as she screamed her delight. She climaxed over and over, soaking through her bathrobe onto the plush hotel armchair with her gushing wetness. Unnaturally concentrated, the punch hit much harder than the usual effect of Aaron’s bites.
The blast of injected venom was pure heaven, like sex, heroin, and cocaine all rolled into one. Absolutely no way on earth, heaven, or hell she would ever break this addiction. She’d give up her first born child to have it. She was irreversibly, indisputably hooked, hard and fast. She began to realize some decisions cannot be undone no matter how hard you try. She didn’t even want to try. Her life now depended on access to their venom.
She came to her senses eventually, cleaned up in the bathroom and climbed back in bed to snuggle into Aaron’s unconscious embrace. She was snoring in minutes, full of the contentment of a babe in her father’s arms.
* * * *
The vampires arose at sunset cuddling close together nuzzling with their new pet, giving her all the affection she craved and needed. Michelle noticed the party invitation slipped under the hotel room door.
“We are cordially invited to the VIP party at nine. Complementary buffet and drinks. How nice of Mr. Kramer to think of us.”
She winked at Aaron as he scowled at the news. He knew she intended to go to the party. He had a bad feeling about this.
Michelle smiled at him reassuringly, “Don’t worry. If there is a problème we can take care of it. These cattle are no match for you!” She kissed him. He agreed silently. Her reasoning seemed sound, but the predator’s instincts raged against all reason and logic.
They dressed and headed down to the party arriving late. Kramer greeted them like old friends. He immediately introduced Michelle to several prominent guests, exactly as promised. Aaron tried to read Kramer to ascertain his intentions, but all he caught was a vague plan to introduce Michelle to a friend who wanted a date with her. Aaron sensed something devious afoot, but as usual, Kramer’s mind focused on all things Michelle. He stayed a couple moments, smiling and shaking hands, but Anastasia drew his attention.
She had taken off to the bar. Gone for only a few minutes, a huge Mexican had moved in on her. She had a blast guzzling red wine and snacking from the buffet while she chatted it up the guy. Aaron frowned as he watched the Mexican following her around. The guy seemed a little too appreciative of her beauty.
He left Michelle to Kramer’s devices in trade for rescuing Ana.
She turned to Aaron with a smile and a wet kiss on his cheek as she introduced the Mexican, Miguel, who supposedly worked as a stuntman in Hollywood films. Her eyes had already started to glaze. Ana had a good buzz and seemed completely unaware of the menace standing at her elbow.
Aaron wrapped his arm around Ana, snugging her up tight against him as focused on Miguel.
“Hi, nice to meet you … How do you like Vegas this time of the year? … Wonderful weather …” The inane pleasantries dragged on and on.
There was definitely something off about Miguel. The man’s thoughts centered on a completely different matter from the cordial chitchat. He really needed to get Aaron to follow him to another room where somebody named Demarco awaited them.
Aaron recalled hearing the name before, something to do with Kramer.
Anastasia distracted his mental game of connect-the-dots squirming under his arm. “Don’t take off on me. I’m going to the restroom. I’ll be back before you know it.” She pecked him on the cheek again, leaving him with Miguel.
Aaron felt he was getting close. He really wanted to pursue this Demarco thing. He knew it related to Kramer.
“So, what brings you to Vegas?” He bored into Miguel as the Mexican tried to feign a casual answer.
“Ah well, you know, a little fun in the sun. I like the nightlife too, is muy bueno.” He lives and works in Vegas, not a tourist at all.
Miguel looked nervous, a completely unnatural anxiety for such a large physically imposing man––over six feet tall, near three hundred pounds of muscle. He didn’t add up. He appeared to have some money, appropriately dressed for VIP status, but he wasn’t there to party. He was there specifically for Aaron. How interesting.
“So you’re a stunt man eh? Films and stuff?”
“Yeah. I do that live wild-west show. You know, stick em up gringo!” He grinned wide, making a pretend pistol with his thumb and forefinger pointed at Aaron.
Miguel had actually worked a show like that in the past, in California. But that was not his current profession. Miguel was a hired thug for Demarco.
“Hey, there’s someone you should meet. He’s a personal friend of mine.” He tried to be casual as he directed Aaron to follow him through a side door into an adjoining room.
Under different circumstances he would never follow a guy like this, but he wanted to meet Demarco. He wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery as bad as Miguel wanted to take him there. He played follow the leader without a word of question.
* * * *
Upon entering the room, Miguel closed the door behind them and stepped off to Aaron’s side, gesturing in the direction of two men across the room. Aaron scanned and studied the man who threatened him with a pistol. He recognized his profile and a certain familiarity to his thought patterns. Demarco, the man who lost all that money a couple nights ago.
Demarco aimed the strange looking pistol directly at him with an evil smile of gloating triumph that left no mistake of his character or intentions. The monstrous bear of a Mexican standing next to Demarco sneered at Aaron, “Te cargo la verga––you’re fucked.”
Demarco fired as Aaron snapped into action twisting sideways to avoid the shot. The strange gun made the slightest puncture noise like a tire popping. He was almost successful at removing himself from the line of fire. Had the shot been a slug from a standard pistol, it would have barely grazed the triceps of his left arm.
Since it was a dart from a dart gun, it stuck him right in the triceps muscle where it hit. Demarco and his goons had the remarkable foresight to employ darts loaded with tetrodotoxin extracted from blowfish by a local sushi chef. The toxin, 10,000 times more lethal than cyanide, was one of nature’s deadly wonders. By inhibiting the nervous system’s
ability to function, the toxin caused rapid paralysis, typically resulting in death. In addition, Demarco loaded his darts with an animal tranquilizer called ketasec, special K, in sufficient dosage to drop an elephant.
Demarco bagged himself some big game. The double punch slammed Aaron immediately, instant numbness dampening his senses. Thick, smothering molasses coated each limb, inhibiting movement. His tongue swelled, filling his mouth. Time came to stand still, nothing moved. Gloating smiles twisted and distorted in his face, Cheshire-cat grins stretching wide. Like a great tree felled by the stroke of the axe stroke, his equilibrium slid off kilter.
He fought a losing battle with every last ounce of strength, simply to remain standing. Falling on his face, he accomplished one thing. He delivered a smashing blow to Miguel’s left thigh, sending him flying across the room to tumble off the floor into the wall.
As his vision faded to black, he concentrated hard on Demarco. By the time he ferreted out all the details of Demarco and Kramer’s plans, it was too late to warn Michelle. He passed directly into heavily sedated oblivion mumbling a quiet promise, “You are soooo dead, you don’t even know….”
* * * *
Ana returned from the restroom seeking Aaron. She didn’t see him at the buffet, and couldn’t find him in the immediate vicinity. She hit the bar, taking full advantage of all the free Patron tequila. She drank, the bartender poured. They were fast friends.
“Ya gotta love an open bar with free drinks. I don’t care who ya are.” She winked at the bartender.
Several shots with lime and salt kicked in a solid buzz. She continued to scan the party for Aaron or Miguel with no luck.
She noticed Michelle still in conversation with Kramer and gang. They only had eyes for Michelle, those disgusting filthy looks old men are capable of when no one else is around to notice. She shivered at the nest of vipers surrounding Michelle. Then it hit her, how funny they all looked. These predatory business men who were accustomed to victimizing others for profit were now being sized up as prey for a real live predator in the flesh. There’s always a bigger fish.
These wealthy old lechers were a school of tiny piranhas who had unwittingly entered shark infested waters. They chatted it up with a lethal blond mako shark who viewed them as a tasty little morsel. No longer at the top of the food chain and they didn’t have the first clue.
Ana giggled at the analogy and downed another shot of Patron. Getting snookered pretty fast.
* * * *
Miguel and Oso shuffled along carrying Aaron’s dead weight out the service elevator and hefted him up into the trunk of Demarco’s Black Chevy Tahoe. Aaron’s last action left Miguel’s right leg black and blue from the hip all the way to his knee. He walked with a painful limp.
“Here, this is where you’re gonna dump him. See the dirt road goes off the highway for several miles, that’s where I want you to leave him out in the open.” Demarco scrolled through a map of the Nevada desert north of Vegas pointing out the location to Miguel. “I’m sending this to your cell now. Got it?”
“Yep.”
Demarco figured if Aaron’s body was ever found and identified from dental records or DNA, there would be no real flesh or tissue remaining to test for chemical traces that might reveal the true cause of death. The coyotes and desert scavengers would pick Aaron’s bones clean within a couple days. Not as gratifying as the strangulation he had originally envisioned, but it would have to do. After watching the security videos of Aaron’s encounter with the two guards outside Kramer’s room, they decided it best to be more cautious in handling the boy. This wasn’t the first time Demarco had done this to remove an obstacle in his business affairs, but it was the first time he had killed for what amounted to personal reasons.
He exited the service elevator returning to the party to implement the next phase of the plan, catering to Kramer’s obsession with the little blond whore. He could see, any man with eyes could see, she was gorgeous. Did that justify murder? Nope.
He didn’t understand it from Kramer’s point of view, but he didn’t really care. He had his own reasons for doing it, $26,000 worth of reasons. And he intended to get back every dime of it by working Michelle’s tight little ass off. At two grand a pop, the profits would roll in pretty fast. Kramer had the perfect setup at the casino to run a revolving door on Michelle.
He couldn’t understand Kramer’s deep-seated obsession with the Frenchy. He had never seen his partner lose it over a chic like this. It didn’t make sense. Kramer had his shit together, a cool motherfucker in all walks of life. Why go head over heels for this tramp? He could buy a dozen whores just like her any day of the week, had been doing so for years. I gotta see this puta. What was so damn special about her that she captured his business partner’s soul so completely?
He found both Kramer and Michelle talking with a group of wrinkled old men who were all entranced by her. It looked like they planned to auction her off to the highest bidder. This girl’s gonna make some damn good money. If she didn’t give the old buzzards a heart attack first.
“Ah, just the man I’ve been looking for. Demarco this is Michelle. Michelle this is a close personal friend of mine named Alexander Demarco. This is the man I’ve been telling you about all evening. He’s interested in getting to know you more intimately. I have taken the liberty of advising him of your hourly rates.” Kramer brought Michelle into an embrace with Demarco, they exchanged cheek pecks.
“Bonjour, is so nice to meet you. Kramer tells me you work with international shipping.” Michelle focused her vibrant green gaze on Demarco, drawing him in.
“Yes, among other business ventures, I do some imports. And what brings you here to Vegas? Business or pleasure?” He didn’t like to talk about his business with strangers. He redirected the conversation instantly to her.
“A little bit of both Oui? I find much pleasure in my business. Is one and the same to me. I also need a little vacation. Is so exciting, all the wonderful shows. People are so crazy in the casinos when they are winning!” He winced at the painful memory of his losses to Aaron. It was not something he would soon forget.
* * * *
Chapter 15
“If you’re available now, why don’t we head out to my place? I’ve a full-size hot tub and a fresh bottle of champagne.” Demarco’s question was mostly a courtesy. With an arm around Michelle, he steered her towards the elevator. She stopped him with a pat on his thigh.
“Excusez-moi, I must speak with my friends, one moment please.” Polite, but insistent.
Michelle found Anastasia at the bar with a drink in hand. She looked worried.
“Is there a problème?” She curled around her pet affectionately, whispering in her ear.
“Aaron’s gone. I can’t find him. He’s not here. Where did he go?” Ana whined.
She reached out to him through her psychic bond. A complete blackout. He seemed unconscious. Nothing to be learned from his mind. He had traveled down to the ground floor of the hotel. This gave her pause. Why would he be in this situation? Obviously something was wrong.
The need to feed took precedence for the immediate moment. Better take care of her needs and then pursue Aaron. She’d be in position to act with her thirst sated. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? Aaron was very capable of taking care of himself. He wasn’t in any pain at the moment.
Demarco stepped up impatiently. “Is there a problem?”
“Non. One more moment please.”
She turned to Ana with a kiss, stroking away her tears with her fingertips. “Listen ma chérie. Aaron will return soon. Don’t worry. I will return to you shortly.” The tears started again.
“I can only give you one hour. I must return quickly.” She pegged Demarco, her eyes uncommonly intense. He nodded acceptance.
“Sure thing. That should be enough time.”
She focused on Ana. “See? I will return in one hour. Do not cry mon petit. If Aaron is not back we will find him together. D’accord
?” She smiled brightly, willing Ana to be calm and have faith. Ana visibly relaxed under her powerful confidence and influence.
Ana whispered as they hugged goodbye. “Okay. I’ll call you if he shows up before you get back.”
* * * *
Oso drove Demarco and Michelle to Demarco’s home in the Camden Estates gated community twenty minutes off the Vegas strip. The subdivision was one of many birthed in the boom of 2004-2007 when developers made millions in a couple years instead of the usual five to ten year turnaround for resale. His southwest style home, like all others on the block, rose two stories high in tan and cream stucco with a dark red clay tile roofing. Demarco ushered them around to the back patio where his in-ground hot tub awaited. Oso made himself scarce, disappearing into the house.
Demarco removed the cover from the hot tub, kicked on the bubbles and offered her a drink from the outdoor kitchen-gazebo. She refused. As he frowned at her abstinence, she wasted no time, stripping off her cocktail dress to stand before him completely nude. She hadn’t bothered with underwear.
“Damn woman! You don’t mess around.” He’d forgotten all about whatever had made him frown.
She was truly fabulous, a sight to behold. Her perky little handful breasts stood erect, nipples pointed straight at him. She was a dainty hourglass. He began to see what had grabbed Kramer’s attention. She made him hard in a few seconds, uncomfortably hard.
She licked her lips like she had something planned.
He definitely couldn’t fault Kramer’s taste in women. If you’re gonna fall for a girl, you couldn’t go wrong with Michelle. He knew she was the type to ruin a man, steal his heart, his money, his balls, and everything else that wasn’t nailed down. But it sure would be a hell of ride to be ruined by her.
The Nightlife: Las Vegas (The Nightlife Series) Page 10