by Greco, Karen
"You sure that's wise?" I stood and stretched, upending Dog from her comfy position on my foot. She gave me the stink eye.
"Why? Worried someone will kill me?" Frankie snorted, snarling a bit. Immortality sure makes vampires cocky.
I sighed. "Come on, it's nasty down there. Crack pipes all over the dirty train tracks. It reeks of piss. It's just a bad element. And after what happened to those Beta-Vamps..."
"I appreciate your concern." He smiled coolly. With his fangs flashing at me, it was clear that he was lying about his appreciation.
"Come on, Frankie," I argued. "I'm only being a pain in the ass because I care about you."
"Of course," he said through gritted teeth. "I'm just hungry."
I shifted my weight awkwardly from foot to foot. "If you really need to eat...I mean, you know I trust you."
Turning my back to him, I opened the fridge and pretended to look for something.
Frankie had never ever bitten me before our binding bite and hadn't since. But binding bites are very intimate. It can be like making love, or it can be like rape — again, all vampire-dependent. I barely remember it, since I was close to dropping dead, but I didn't recall anything unpleasant about the experience. Admittedly, this pushed our friendship into uncomfortable territory.
"I don't think we should, Nina," Frankie said quietly.
I pulled out a bottle of black cherry soda and popped the top. "We survived the binding. I don't see why we can't deal with this like adults."
For bindings that were willing — and there were more than a few of those — keeping the vampire sustained was simply a part of the partnership.
Frankie's blue eyes turned to vibrant cerulean, a sign that he was starting to vamp out.
A rush of his hunger washed over me. I gasped and staggered forward. My soda bottle dropped from my hand and crashed to the floor and shattered. I gripped the counter to keep myself upright. I had never felt his hunger before. The intensity was almost too much.
"Frankie, please. I feel it." My voice was a hoarse whisper.
As quickly as it overwhelmed me, Frankie snapped it off.
"I appreciate the offer, Nina. Really, I do. But I can't," Frankie said quietly, bending down to pick up pieces of the broken bottle.
I watched him, still panting slightly from the overwhelming feeling of his hunger. His skin was more grey than pale. The six-foot vamp looked almost small as he wiped up the mess on the floor with a kitchen towel.
I kneeled down and touched his hand. "I felt you. You need to eat. So do it."
I pulled my hair away from my neck and tilted my head. He traced the scar along my neck, a remnant from Marcello's attack. It sparked alive at his touch, burning slightly, as if the witch blade that did the damage still fought to destroy the vampire part of me. Slipping his hand behind my neck, he dropped his head, his mouth inches away from the scar.
I caught my breath when his fangs gently brushed against the scar. My body responded to the memory of his first bite. Desire welled deep inside of me. A small moan escaped from my lips as my body anticipated the rush of his fangs sinking into my skin.
"No, Love." Frankie's voice was soft, almost a whisper. His breath gently swept over the scar, sending small tremors through my body. "I will not do this to you again."
I pulled away from him with a mix of both relief and disappointment.
He sighed. "I should go now."
"Yeah," I agreed. "I think you should."
Frankie got to his feet and gave me a small smile. I waved at him from my spot on the kitchen floor, my legs still too weak to get up just yet. I had never felt such an intense craving like that before. I had never been with a vampire before, and that bite promised some awfully hot sex. That this overwhelming desire was for Frankie made it all the more confusing. I really needed a cold shower.
Frankie opened the kitchen door and started down the stairs to the bar. Dog bolted down the steps as well, nearly knocking Frankie over. She was after Cookie Puss, our bar cat and my aunt's familiar.
Yup, a Hell Hound and a cat familiar under the same roof. Can you imagine what the past few weeks were like since I began housesitting? Multiply that by 100.
I got up on shaky legs and took off after the Hell Hound. I was about halfway down when I heard the cat screech, Dog yelp and glass shatter.
Between my haste and my jelly legs, I lost my footing and went ass first down the rest of the staircase, landing at the foot with a thud. A chastened Dog panted in front of me, the cat's liberated claw sheath stuck in the center of Dog's head like a third eye. Cookie Puss was perched on one of the top shelves above the bar, hissing. Miraculously, she avoided breaking the dusty cobalt bottles on her scamper up the shelving. Based on the pungent smell, a bottle of whiskey was responsible for the smash. And if my nose was right, it was the cheap stuff. That was a relief. Those blue bottles weren't labeled. Some contained Babe's famous homemade moonshine — saved only for special occasions and our favorite regulars. But the others, particularly on the upper shelves, contained unfamiliar witch brews. Only Auntie Babe could recognize the potions in those bottles.
From behind, Frankie looped his hands under my arms and pulled me up to my feet. I could feel his body shaking with the laugh he was trying to suppress. Guess watching me klutz my way down the stairs was enough to douse any lingering feelings of desire for me.
"Oh for fuck’s sake, just get it over with," I muttered, dusting the grit from the floor off my behind. That did it, and Frankie roared, laughing so hard that actual tears started leaking out the corner of his eyes.
I marched to the front door, unbolted the lock and swung it open. "Out!" I tapped my foot and stared at Frankie, who was still laughing as he inched his way past me. He stopped suddenly to envelop me in a hug, dropping a kiss on the top of my head. Before I could respond, he disappeared in the pitch-black street, leaving me to lock up behind him.
A cold whisper of air touched my neck as I closed the door after him. Cookie Puss, still perched on the top shelves above the bar, hissed in my direction. This time Dog growled back, her hair on end.
"Casper?" I called, squinting in front of me. I hoped it was him and not that pain in the ass Lovecraft. So far, I wasn't impressed with my celebrity ghost encounter.
I felt the air pressure hit around me, and then the awful sensation of ice-cold slime encased my body. I shuddered as Casper slipped into my shell, his voice booming his usual "Wassup, Vampire" greeting.
"You want to know wassup? Wassup with sending that stooge Lovecraft in here earlier? Do you know who he works for?" I demanded.
I felt Casper shrug, my own shoulders spazzing up and down as he attempted to make the movement. "Oh my god! Use your words, not my body!"
Casper's voice echoed through my head, and I pressed my fingers to my temples, as if I could push away the migraine that appeared when he jumped into my body and proceeded to speak, his voice booming through my head. "Yeah, I know who he hangs with. Why do you think I asked him to come?"
"I want nothing to do with Bertrand or his lackeys," I said, raising my voice above his chatter booming through my brain.
"Nina, you stubborn vampire, Bertrand just thinks Lovecraft's on his payroll," Casper said, as his exasperation seeped into my body, making me twitchy.
"What do you mean?"
"He's going to spy for us!" My chest expanded as he puffed up with pride.
I leaned against the door and took a deep breath in. I often had to remind myself that Casper was 18 when he died. He was still just a kid. And what teenage boy doesn't want to be James Bond? I had to give Casper a little room to do things on his own, but dammit, Bertrand was dangerous.
"Do you trust him? Lovecraft really rubbed me the wrong way."
"Yeah, I thought he would." The corners of my mouth tugged up as Casper smiled. "He's famous, Nina, so he's kind of all 'Don't you know who I am.' And I knew that shit would drive you cray-cray."
"So you're hanging around with Bertrand's
associate to annoy me?"
"No!" Casper's exasperation made him fidgety, and it was all I could do to keep from dancing around the bar. "Check it out, Nina. He was trapped in The Rock but I helped him get out! He owes me."
"Did it occur to you that maybe he was trapped there for a reason? Maybe he's like the Biltmore ghosts?"
The Biltmore Hotel ghosts were downright dangerous. Luckily they were contained in the old, rotting building.
"Nah, he's temperamental and all, but he's famous. He's kind of allowed to be."
"Good god, Casper. You're starstruck!"
"He's Lovecraft. Come on! Aren't you?"
"The spook that I met was inconsiderate, rude and demanding, so no. Not starstruck."
My shoulders heaved up again as Casper shrugged. "This is beside the point, Nina. The point is...Bertrand tied him to the library just like he's tied those other spirits to the Biltmore. H.P. wanted his freedom and I helped him with that. He owes me, and he hates Bertrand."
"And won't Bertrand find out?"
"No, we agreed he sticks around the library. He can leave, but not for long. So he doesn't attract suspicion."
"Okay, fine. But what can he do for us?"
"Not sure yet, but come on, Nina! We have a ghost on the inside!"
"Yeah, a malevolent celebrity spirit at that," I grumbled. "Okay, we'll try it your way. But you keep a very close eye on him. I'm not joking. And if I get one whiff of crappy intel, I will send Father Dougherty to exorcise him. Got it?"
My head bobbed up and down as Casper nodded.
"Words, please," I said. "Use. Your. Words."
I secured the top bolt on the front door and headed toward the supply closet next to the stairs to grab a broom to clean up the broken whiskey bottle. I made it about halfway when the pounding started. Dog, who was snoozing by door, jumped up to attention. A low growl began to rise from her throat. The pounding grew faster, more intense. The door vibrated with each slam, hinges rattling at each impact. I ran to the door, and braced my body against it. I stood on my toes to look out the small grouping of windows at the top of the door.
Frantic eyes stared back at me through the small panes of glass. His face was smeared with dirt, and blood dripped from his small, deformed fangs. Another sick Beta-Vamp.
His pounding escalated in intensity. He threw his body against the door, crying out when he made impact. Then he stood back and did it again. And again. And again. Like a methed-out human, he felt no pain and just kept on coming. I stared at the bolt lock, straining to hold the door closed. Shit. He was pounding the lock right off the door, and there was no way I could fight off a rabid Beta-Vamp without getting infected.
"¡Santa mierda!" Casper's voice ricocheted around my skull, reminding me that he was still with me. Maybe there was a witchy way out of this.
"Casper...this vamp can't come near me. I think I need a spell. Can you give me a spell?"
"Yeah, I think so. You gotta let me take over though."
"Okay, I think I can do that!" I was holding the bolt lock in place. As soon as I moved my fingers, we had maybe a minute until it went flying off the door.
I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and relinquished my body to the ghost. Stumbling away from the door, Casper began to chant, except it was my lips forming the words and my voice calmly reciting the unfamiliar Latin. The door exploded off the hinges, and the Beta-Vamp burst into the bar. He released a guttural moan as he eyeballed me. He opened his mouth in a humorless smile as a steady drip of blood flowed down to the floor. He powered towards me.
Casper raised my arms, and my hands began the elegant dance that weaved the spell. I felt Casper's formidable curandero power mingle with my own neophyte abilities. As the magic flowed out of me, I lost myself in its energy.
Whatever Casper was doing was slowing down the vampire, but it wasn't stopping him. Like walking through a knee-deep river of molasses, the Beta-Vamp's grunts got louder from exertion, but he was still moving forward. My voice pitched higher as Casper pushed the words out faster. Dog, her barking loud and fierce, jumped in between me and the menacing Beta.
With a howl, the Beta stopped suddenly, his eyes wide and filled with panic. He dropped to his knees and lifted his arms to me, whimpering. His body began to shake violently.
I leaned in towards him slightly, careful not to get within splatter range.
"Help us. Please. Help us." A wet sound was at the back of his throat. We didn't have a lot of time to get out of there. He was going to blow.
"Casper, back off!" I yelled.
We had to get out of the bar before the blood started to projectile all over me, and I needed my vampire speed. Casper released his hold on me without argument. I grabbed Dog by the scruff of her neck. Pulling her with me, I raced to the open door that lead to the apartment.
I gave the cursed Beta-Vampire a fleeting glance. The look of utter fear and desperation on his face was haunting. I slammed the door safely behind us just in time. A rush of wet, sticky blood hit the door with extraordinary force. Shaking, I dropped onto the third step and cradled my head in my hands.
With a shaky breath, I collected myself, then pulled my cell phone out of my back pocket. "Call Dr. O," I muttered into the phone. In a few seconds, it started ringing.
"Yeah, Nina?" Max's voice was on the other end.
"Um, hi," I was startled. I was expecting Dr. O's lilting Irish brogue, and ended up with Max's California inflection. "I need to talk to the Doc. It's a 911."
"Can you talk to me about it? He's a little busy at the moment," Max's voice faltered.
"A Beta-Vamp stormed Babe's, and there's a huge mess of dirty blood all over the bar. I need The Cleaner." I scooted my butt up to the next step, putting a bit more distance between me and the mess of fluid coagulating behind the door.
"Are you okay? Where are you?" His voice was edged with concern.
"I am fine, just a little...you know. Grossed out." I shuddered. "I'm in the stairwell going up to the apartment. I have no idea how bad it is behind this door."
"Where the hell are these whack jobs coming from?"
"Not whack jobs," I reminded him. "They are Beta-Vamps who hooked into a bad blood supply."
"Okay, since you can't go into the bar, I'll bring The Cleaner over." His breath picked up, like he was on the move.
"Any idea how long?" After the wild ride at the Superman Building, and working all the next day and into the night, plus the visit from our demon mayor, I really wanted to get some sleep. Of course, that wasn't looking terribly promising at the moment.
"I can be there in 20, but it all depends on The Cleaner." The noise behind him shifted, and I heard wind blow across the mouthpiece. He was on his way.
"Right, hurry her if you can." I realized I asked something impossible. You don't hurry The Cleaner.
Max snorted. He learned quickly.
"I'll call when we get there." I could hear him chuckling. "Wait up in the apartment. And for god's sake, Nina, whatever you do, do not go into the bar."
"You think?" I said sarcastically, but the phone cut out.
It was odd that Max was dealing with The Cleaner, but at least someone knew how to get a hold of her if Dr. O wasn't available. I had a feeling we'd be calling her a lot until we found the source of contamination.
I got to my feet and climbed backwards up the stairs, my eyes steady on the door to the bar. I didn't quite trust that another sick Beta-Vamp wouldn't try to burst through.
CHAPTER FOUR
I knew they’d arrived before Max knocked. The smell of The Cleaner's cigarette leeched into my apartment several minutes before Max drummed on the door. I sprayed a homemade air freshener — some lemongrass concoction made by Babe — and hollered, "Only those without a cigarette dangling from their mouth can come in!"
Max cracked open the door at the exact moment I spritzed around it to kill the tobacco smell, and I hit him with the full force of the spray.
"You're welcome," he sputtered,
wiping off his face with the bottom of his untucked shirt. Rumpled, unshaven and with dark circles under his eyes, Max looked like I felt. Like shit.
"Sorry." I put the spray bottle down and pulled him into the kitchen, closing the door behind him. "But damn that cigarette reeks."
Max slumped into a kitchen chair. "I had to drive her here, and she said it was too cold to open the windows."
"Why didn't you tell her to put the damn thing out?"
He looked defeated. "I did."
"What happened?"
He pointed to his left eye. I dipped my head closer to examine it and saw the start of a really nice shiner. I snorted and opened the second door, which lead outside, to air out the cigarette smell. Then I flopped onto the chair next to him.
He shrugged. "Dr. O warned me not to make her angry."
"Thanks for bringing her out." I gave him a small smile. "When was the last time you ate? I can make you eggs."
"Eggs? The last time we had eggs together..." He returned my smile with a crooked one.
"...your life went completely ass over kettle. Sorry. Again." I dropped my forehead onto the table. Babe made her famous omelets while Dr. O and I dropped a bombshell on Max. We told him supernatural creatures were real. And I was one of them. Life as he knew it ended the first time he ate eggs with me.
"It's okay, Nina." He rubbed the back of my head reassuringly, not unlike when I pet Dog. "Life just got more interesting."
"No shit," I sighed, raising my head back up. "And now you are a double agent and getting zero sleep."
"You don't look exactly well rested yourself."
True. But he looked entirely more exhausted than me. Of course, being part-vampire meant I handled the nocturnal hours better than most.
"How's it going over at FBI HQ anyway?"
I hoped this would be a lighter topic, but his face clouded over. I shifted slightly away from him, not knowing what to expect. Since he turned into a Berserker, his temper flared hot and fast. A sadness came over him when he noticed me putting some distance between us.