Rajmund

by D. B. Reynolds

"Or maybe they're overwhelmed,” Emelie said. “The houses I've been to are far too crowded. The ventilation systems aren't working properly, and the humans are drunk on vampire pheromones."

  Raj nodded, not surprised by this. “The blood houses are the key, Em. I think Trish Cowens was a mistake. Someone meant to grab her roommate and got Trish instead.” He frowned. “And Sarah says she saw Krystof talking to Estelle Edwards at a university reception."

  Em's face reflected her shock. “That's pretty damning, boss."

  He nodded. “It looks like it, but damnit, Em, it just doesn't fit. Krystof wouldn't have brought me here if he was the one. He knows I'll figure this out. I'm missing something. I just don't know what it is.” He drew a troubled breath. “It doesn't matter,” he said finally. “If it's Krystof, I'll deal with him sooner than planned, that's all. And he can't be the one taking the women from the houses, because the house managers would damn well remember if Krystof had visited. I was out in Corfu the other night and no one said a word to me about Krystof. So even if he's in on it, he's not acting alone."

  "Whoever they are,” Em said. “They've got to be getting a little frantic by now with all the press this is getting. We need to find those women before the bad guys start getting rid of the evidence, assuming they haven't already."

  Raj shook his head in disgust. “Make your calls, Em. Get some more of our human assets here. And then you and I are going to visit the East Amherst blood house. Jennifer Stewart, Trish's roommate, went there twice. I want to see what it looks like."

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  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The house was pretty much as he remembered it. Built in the early seventies, it was a wood and glass tract house—two stories, with an incongruous A-frame that would have looked ridiculous except for the identical homes all around. A sort of mini-Swiss chalet bedroom community in upstate New York.

  The inside was just as firmly stuck in the seventies as the exterior. A short entryway led to a sunken living room with walls that alternated wood paneling and gold-veined mirror. No doubt the carpet had originally been some sort of shag, but that was long gone, replaced by something sturdier, something that wouldn't show blood stains. The interior was dark and smoky, music pulsing with a heavy backbeat that caused the cheap floor to vibrate beneath his feet. And Em was right. The air was foggy with pheromones and human sweat.

  Raj stood in the doorway and waited for someone to challenge him, or to at least acknowledge he belonged there. But no one did. He glanced at Em and started toward the back of the house, ending up in a kitchen which had been gutted to make room for two big subzero refrigerators standing side by side. Raj strode over to the units and pulled one open.

  Rows of bagged blood were stacked inside. Either the house manager had a deal with the local blood bank or he was draining more from the human donors than anyone knew. He closed the heavy door. He still had not been challenged by anyone. “Upstairs,” he told Emelie.

  She nodded and led the way back down the hall, taking a U-turn upward around a flimsy iron banister. The stairway was crowded, but once they got upstairs, the hall was more or less clear as activities were taken behind closed doors. The usual sounds were emanating through those doors—women, men and vampires, in the throes of sexual passion and release. Not a few of the outbursts were punctuated with cries of pain; some vampires didn't even try to be gentle.

  Raj felt his own fangs pushing for release. He hadn't fed from the vein since the woman in the bar his first night in the city, and while bagged blood contained all the nutrients he needed, it held none of the visceral satisfaction he craved almost as much. Between the bad ventilation system and the crowds of willing humans, it was like asking a starving man to walk through a McDonald's without tasting so much as a French fry. The door to the master suite opened behind him and he spun around, fangs fully distended. A vampire stood there, his arm around the waist of a young man who would surely have collapsed if not for the vampire's assistance.

  "Raj!” the vampire said. “I heard you were in town. What's up, big guy?"

  "Lose the human, Kent,” Raj growled.

  "Sure thing,” Kent said agreeably. “You go on back inside, darling,” he said to his companion. “You're looking a bit peaked.” He turned the human around in his grasp and gave him a gentle shove toward the big bed in the background. The young man barely made it, falling face down when his knees hit the mattress.

  Kent watched, shaking his head fondly. “A sweet boy, but a cheap date.” He pulled the door closed and turned back to Raj with nothing but business on his face.

  "Let's talk,” he said. He tugged a set of keys from the pocket of skintight jeans and opened a door right next to the master suite. It was a small office of sorts, with an industrial-looking metal desk and two chairs. There was no window, and from the configuration, Raj figured this space had been chopped off the master next door.

  Kent propped himself on the desk, his back against the outside wall, and indicated the two chairs, eying Em curiously before he said, “I'm surprised to see you, Raj. Pleasantly, but surprised, nonetheless. So what's up?"

  Raj didn't sit. He stood just inside the door, aware of Emelie at his back and the houseful of vampires all around him. Kent was a friend, or had been once, but Raj wouldn't go so far as to say he trusted him. Raj didn't trust anyone who had remained within Krystof's grasp. He studied Kent and saw a fine sheen of sweat betraying the nerves behind his relaxed facade, saw his hand gripping the keys so tightly blood had begun to leak between his fingers. Raj met his eyes and held them until Kent dropped his gaze with a low groan. He slid to the floor and onto his knees.

  "Master,” he forced out from between lips pressed tight with pain.

  Raj left him there a few minutes longer, while Emelie stood stock-still next to him, probably fighting her own urge to drop to her knees.

  "Get up, Kent,” he said finally, and swung into the larger of the two chairs, pushing it back against one wall.

  Kent breathed a sigh of relief and, after glancing at Raj, climbed shakily to his feet to slump weakly against the wall over the desk.

  "How can I serve you, my lord?” Kent asked in a much subdued voice.

  "I'm not your lord, Kent."

  The other vampire dared a quick look at Raj's face and away. He shrugged. “Krystof doesn't bother with anything outside the boundaries of Delaware Park anymore. You're the only master I've seen in two years."

  Raj concealed his dismay. “No one checks on the houses?"

  "Jozef, sometimes. He comes around every few months, but he was here last month, so I don't expect him for awhile yet."

  Raj was quiet, thinking. “Has anyone asked you about missing women?"

  "Women?"

  "Three women, Kent. Three separate disappearances, but each had visited one of the blood houses, including this one. A fourth—” He considered how much he wanted to say. “A fourth woman has a different connection to the vampire community, but she's also disappeared. No one told you?"

  "No. This is the first I've heard of it."

  Raj shook his head. Kent was telling the truth, which meant Krystof hadn't even taken the basic precaution of warning his house managers. He pulled out the picture of Jennifer Stewart and Trish Cowens he'd snagged from the bulletin board in their dorm room and ripped it in half so that only Jennifer remained. “You recognize this girl?"

  Kent studied the picture carefully, but shook his head. “I'm sorry, my lord, she could be one of a hundred, a thousand, women around here. They come and go and, you know me, I don't pay that much attention to the ladies."

  "What's with all the bagged blood downstairs, Kent? Where's it coming from?"

  The other vampire seemed to freeze for a moment and Raj growled softly, “Kent."

  "Orders,” he gasped, and Raj could tell he was fighting the compulsion of some other master. He would have fallen to the floor again, but Raj was already on his feet and caught him before he could hit the ground
.

  "Whose orders, Kent?” he asked intently.

  Kent shook his head, as if trying to clear it, then threw back his head and screamed. Raj reacted instantly, grasping the other vampire with both hands and surrounding the two of them in a sphere of pure power. Kent collapsed against him and Raj sorted through his mind, undoing the tangle of commands and counter-commands some clumsy master before him had left behind.

  Whoever had done this had the strength to take over another vampire's will, but not the finesse or experience to do it without damage. He cursed the ignorance that could easily have left Kent permanently damaged and tasted the essence of the other. It was familiar, but . . . who? Someone he knew? Or just someone whose power he had crossed paths with before? Raj withdrew gently and lifted Kent in his arms. Emelie was standing ready, and she responded to a jerk of Raj's head by opening the door and stepping into the hall to look both ways.

  "It's clear, my lord."

  Raj carried him into the master suite. He considered leaving him on the bed with his lover, but there were too many windows in this room and he couldn't be sure Kent would wake soon enough. He settled for the walk-in closet, tucking the unconscious vampire into the back corner and covering him with a pile of blankets that had obviously been used before. Stepping out of the closet, he closed the door, checked on the sleeping human and led Emelie back out to the hallway. She looked at him, her eyes full of questions, but he shook his head. “Later."

  They were out the door and back into the SUV before anyone in the house was aware of their passage. Raj didn't say anything for a long while, trying to remember where he'd run across that power before, the taste of the vampire who'd messed up Kent's head so badly. It wasn't until Em took a turn onto a side road, which wound behind the airport to the warehouse, that he snapped his fingers in sudden recollection. “Trish Cowens,” he said.

  "My lord?” Em took her eyes off the road to give him a worried glance.

  "The bastard who messed with Kent's mind. It's the same asshole who took Trish Cowens. He's strong enough to conceal his identity, but not strong enough to keep from making a mess doing it. And that sure as hell is not Krystof, even as fucked up as he is lately.” He tapped his fingers on the door panel, thinking. “You and I are going to visit every blood house in the city in the next couple of days. Kent was too screwed up for me to make an identification, but maybe the others won't be. Maybe our man has improved his technique with practice.” He left unsaid the possibility that Kent was the improvement and the others would be worse—dangerously worse. He glanced at his watch. Less than two hours ‘til dawn. The houses would already be shutting down, and if he didn't want to sleep at the warehouse, he had to do the same. “We'll start tomorrow night. I'll be at the warehouse after sunset. The others can go ahead, but you're with me."

  Emelie's cell rang and he waited while she answered the call, said a few words and hung up. “The additional human staff will be here by morning, my lord. Whom do you want on Sarah?"

  "Any women in the bunch?"

  "Yossi's here already, so Angel's coming in,” she said.

  Yossi was one of Raj's vampires. Angel was his human lover of several decades. “Put Angel and one of the guys on her during the day. I want someone who can stay close if she goes out. I want to know everyone she sees and what they say."

  Em gave him a puzzled look as she pulled into the warehouse lot and parked near the door, leaving the engine running. “You think she's up to something?"

  Raj frowned. “I don't know. But someone with a grudge against me might think she's important and an easy target."

  "So, you think there are more humans involved than just Estelle Edwards?"

  "Maybe. I ran into Edward Blackwood last night at a restaurant. He'd love to get his hands on some vamp blood for research, and his institute sure as hell has the money to fund something like that."

  "Maybe this other vamp, the one trying to move in, is offering his own blood as the sample,” Em suggested.

  "Would that be enough? Dr. Edwards's husband seemed to think she'd need more than one donor."

  "Hell if I know, boss. We need someone who knows blood."

  "Not just blood, but vampire blood,” Raj said thoughtfully. “Okay, Em, I'm out of here. I'll see you tomorrow."

  He didn't waste any time, spinning tires out of the parking lot, heading straight for his lair downtown. There was only one person he knew of who might have answers to his questions and be willing to talk to him. That was Peter Saephan, Raphael's very private human physician. Raj wouldn't even have considered such a thing before his recent meeting with Raphael. But if the Western Vampire Lord was serious about cooperation, this was the perfect opportunity to prove it. Besides, if someone was selling vampire blood, the vampire community worldwide would be affected. Peasants with torches would be nothing compared to the hunt that would ensue if humans found out what vampire blood could do for them.

  He checked his watch again. It was still early on the west coast and he might have just enough time for a call before the sun took him.

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  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Buffalo, New York

  Sarah stayed in bed late the next morning. She kept her eyes closed, hoping to go back to sleep, but it wasn't happening. Not that she wasn't tired. She hadn't slept well again last night, but it wasn't dreams that kept her awake this time, it was a guilty conscience. And she was beginning to think she preferred the dreams.

  The problem was she didn't know exactly what she was feeling guilty about. Was it because she'd stood by while Raj had his vampire way with Jennifer Stewart's head? Or was it because she'd accused Raj of something horrible without any real evidence?

  She'd replayed the scene in Jennifer's dorm room over and over in her head, lying there in bed staring at the ceiling all night. And she couldn't help thinking she'd missed something. Something vital.

  She sighed. The sun was beaming into her room. Her windows faced east, and only the lower part was shuttered. Normally, she liked that her bedroom was sunny and warm in the morning, especially in winter. Today, it just highlighted the dust on her dresser and reminded her that Raj was beyond her reach. Of course, even if it had been nighttime, he probably wouldn't talk to her. He'd been pretty pissed last night.

  On the other hand, Jennifer was eighteen years old and probably slept with her cell phone glued to her ear. Sarah got out of bed and dug her own cell phone out of her purse. A quick check of her call log gave her Jen's number from last night, when she'd called from the Raj's car.

  The girl answered immediately with, “Jen.” She certainly sounded chipper enough, Sarah thought.

  "Hi, Jen. This is Sarah Stratton. I came to see you last night at the dorm, remember? About Trish?"

  "Yeah, sure. Hi, Professor Stratton."

  "I had a couple more questions for you. Could I meet you later today?"

  "I guess. I'm kind of working, though. I have a kiddy lit paper that's like thirty percent of my grade due the day we come back from break. What kind of a moron makes a paper due on the day after spring break?” she groused, and then seemed to remember whom she was talking to. “Anyway,” she mumbled. “I have a couple hours. My brother's picking me up later to go up to my parents’ house. I guess I could meet you."

  Sarah ignored the lack of enthusiasm and said, “Great. Are you in your room?"

  "Right,” Jen said, laughing in a way that told Sarah she'd asked a stupid question. “Like anyone could study in that place today! It's like a tomb. No. I'm over at the Union. I guess I could do a food break or something, in like maybe an hour?"

  "Okay,” Sarah agreed, suddenly feeling ancient and out of touch. “I'll meet you by the front doors."

  "Will Raj be with you?” Jen asked with a sudden burst of enthusiasm.

  "Um, no, Jen, he's—"

  "Oh, duh! Vampire.” She laughed. “Okay, look I gotta go."

  "Wait, how do you know—” But Jen was already long gone.<
br />
  "Of course I knew he was a vampire!” Jen was looking at Sarah like she'd lost her mind. “Gorgeous guy, spooky eyes, talks in my head. What else would he be?"

  Sarah glanced around the crowded dining room, but no one was paying attention, or at least no one who thought it was odd to talk about vampires. “I don't know,” she said. “I just thought—"

  "You need to expand your horizons, Professor Stratton. That's what my lit teacher said last week. ‘Expand your horizons.’ Of course I don't think he meant vampire lit, but, hey, to each his own, right? Isn't that like Shakespeare or something?"

  "Um, no, that was Cicero. So you don't think he, I don't know, took advantage of you last night?"

  Jen gaped at her, seemed to realize what she was doing and shut her mouth, checking around quickly, before saying, “Raj was like the sweetest guy I've ever met. And come on, Professor Stratton, even you must have noticed he's a total babe. I wish my last boyfriend had been half as nice. All he wanted was—"

  "Okay.” Sarah held up her hand. She wasn't really interested in hearing what Jen's last boyfriend had wanted. “That's great. I'm going to go now. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

  "Sure,” Jen said, seeming puzzled. “Why wouldn't I be?” Her face brightened. “Listen, if you see Raj tell him ‘hi’ for me, okay? And tell him—"

  "I'll tell him,” Sarah said quickly, standing up. “Thanks, Jen. If we need anything else, I'll call."

  "Or Raj could call,” Jen called after her as Sarah hurried from the dining room. “I'm up really late every night."

  Sarah was not only exhausted, but depressed by the time she got home from meeting Jen. Her first reaction had been relief that the girl was all right, but as she drove home, all she could think about were the things she'd said to Raj the previous night before storming off. She remembered the look on his face, his disbelief that she would accuse him of rape, and then his look of betrayal as the meaning of her words sank in. What an idiot she'd been. What a total moron. And still he'd waited until the stupid cab arrived and she was on her way before leaving the parking lot himself. She closed her eyes against a wave of regret. What had she done?