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Forsaken By the Others

Page 13

by Jess Haines


  I glanced at the guy who had earlier been identified as Mac, giving him a look. He shrugged and grinned.

  Thrane was not as impressed. “Fascinating. Really. But I would very much like to know how you two have heard of me and what you think I can do for you.”

  My turn to field the questions. “We heard that you’re the ruler of some territory outside of Clyde Seabreeze’s control. If that’s the case, you may have information about who has been behind the murders and disappearances of Clyde’s people.”

  Thrane’s reaction was not what I had expected. At all. His fangs extended, and his eyes blazed red as he shot to his feet, pointing an accusatory finger at me. “You’re working for that . . . that . . . usurper?”

  Sara grabbed my arm so tightly, it went numb. The other vampires didn’t seem very impressed, watching us with bored expressions. Once my heart crawled out of my throat and closer to the region it belonged, I squeaked out a few words.

  “We—uh . . . yes?”

  As suddenly as the anger had risen, it was gone. He blinked, and his eyes were normal again, the fangs retracting as he airily waved a hand at us. “Poofty von Metrofaggen can go find someone else to play his games. I’m not interested.”

  “Jimmy,” one of the girls stage-whispered, her eyes comically huge in her heart-shaped face framed by inky black curls. “Jimmy, those are humans.”

  I have never seen so many vampires so intensely interested in me at the same time. Talk about unnerving. Every one of them went deathly still—and I mean deathly—as their unblinking eyes locked on to us. It was like being stared at by a room full of china dolls. Hungry china dolls that are thinking about eating your face.

  As the tension in the room skyrocketed and I contemplated throwing Sara over my shoulder and making a run for it, Thrane gave a long-suffering sigh, and the tension eased out of his body. He ran his hand over his face before giving the rest of his flock pointed looks.

  “Yes, they are. And they are not for you.”

  The disappointment radiating from the other vampires was palpable.

  “Aw, c’mon, Jimmy! We’re hungry,” one of them whined.

  “You know,” I said, edging back toward the door, “I think we’re good. We’ll find someone else to interview. Thanks for your time!”

  Sara and I might have bolted if there hadn’t been a vampire standing in the stairwell, barring our way out when we turned around.

  At that moment, I could have kicked myself for being so stupid as to think I could waltz into some strange vampire’s den without weapons or a way out. The only person who knew we were here was Trinity, and Clyde had made it perfectly clear how he felt about Jimmy, and about Sara and me exploring parts of Los Angeles beyond the bounds of his territory. Considering Royce was across the country, our chances of being saved were next to nil.

  This was not good.

  The other vampire glanced at me and Sara, then to Thrane, though he sounded far too excited considering the news he had to impart. “Cheese is dead.”

  Thrane looked from us up to the vampire on the stairs. “What?”

  “Cheese is dead,” the other guy repeated. Was it my imagination, or did he smell a bit like barf?

  “Why is Cheese dead?” Thrane demanded, stepping around me and Sara. It seemed we’d been momentarily forgotten. Considering this new vampire was distracting the others from wanting to eat us, this wasn’t altogether a bad thing.

  “He got caught in the sun. Everyone was talking about it at the Sundown.”

  One of the others behind us snorted. “How the hell do you get caught in the sun?”

  “I don’t know; he just did. The police were sweeping him up around noon, apparently.”

  “I knew it was a bad idea to let him in,” Thrane grumbled. “I swear, seventeen is like the magic number. No one that age lasts past a week.” He looked over at the most sensibly dressed of the female vampires in the room in her slacks and button-down shirt, her reddish-brown hair swept up in a ponytail and her arms akimbo. “Why did I even let a vampire named Cheese join up?”

  “You thought it was funny,” the girl replied.

  “Why is that funny?” Thrane wondered.

  “Because you’re an asshole,” Mac muttered.

  “Oh, yes. You two were going to be the best of friends. You remember why, don’t you? You get it?”

  Mac rolled his eyes. “I get it.”

  “’Cause it’s Mac . . .”

  “Thrane. I get it.”

  “A-a-a-a-and . . .”

  “I get it.”

  “Cheese!”

  The other vampires cracked up. Mac put his head in his hands.

  “Well, only one thing to do. Everyone, stand up. Sta-a-a-a-and up.” Thrane gestured at the others, pointing to each in turn. “Elly, Leewan, Megan . . . come on. Up we go.”

  Everyone stood up. Even Mac, once he finished cursing Thrane out under his breath. Sara and I stood where we were, awkwardly shuffling from foot to foot.

  Thrane removed his hat and held it to his chest. “We are gathered here tonight to mourn the passing of one of our own.”

  “We’re gathered here to hang out,” the one he’d called Leewan mumbled.

  Thrane pointed at him. “I can kill you.”

  Leewan fell silent.

  “Cheese was our friend,” Thrane continued. “He was our brother. Except to Janice, who wanted to boink him. Because otherwise that would be wrong.”

  The girl I assumed was Janice closed her eyes, probably not in grief.

  “Cheese lived a full life. It is with a heavy heart that we bid him farewell and hope that beyond this second death, he will find peace.” Thrane wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Good-bye, Cheese.”

  “Good-bye, Cheese,” everyone murmured.

  “Hey, who wants to see if they’re a cold fish or a passionate lover?” Elly called, having picked up a Cosmo in the middle of the service.

  Everyone else’s hand went up. My mouth dropped open, and I’m pretty sure Sara was gaping, too.

  “Mac goes first,” Elly decided.

  Thrane turned back to us while most of the other vampires put their attention on Elly and her magazine.

  “That was a moving speech,” the girl in the nice clothes told him.

  “Why, thank you, Shannon.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Thrane.”

  “So, hey,” Mac called out from across the room, “are we going to eat these people after we’re done with the questions or what?”

  Many red-tinged eyes were quite suddenly, very hungrily, focused on us. Again.

  Chapter 16

  As cold hands settled on our shoulders, Sara made a high-pitched sound, and I jumped about a foot in the air. Thrane had moved behind us, and I could hear the edge of amusement—and hunger—in his voice. “Now, now, children. What do I always say?”

  “Never without a contract, and never without consent,” the others droned. They sounded like kids in a classroom reciting some inane tidbit of trivia off of a chalkboard for their teacher.

  “Very good! Next week, we’re going to rehash the ‘Your Donor is a Human, Not a Cow’ and the ‘Technically You’re Still Human, so Have Some Humanity’ talks.”

  That pronouncement was met with a chorus of groans.

  Thrane’s fingers tightened, and I tilted my head to look up at him, the tendons creaking in my neck with the movement.

  “Now, I am sure you investigators have a great deal of investigating to do, yes?” Thrane didn’t wait for our reply. He started pushing us back in the direction of the door. “All right, then. You just go on about your business, and we’ll pretend you never came here. Out of the way, Brendan.”

  Though Sara and I both stumbled some on the way, we soon got our bearings and moved under our own power again. Brendan, the vampire who had announced Cheese’s death to the rest of the group, hopped off the steps and wandered over to where Elly and the others were doing their magazine survey.

  “P
lease,” I said over my shoulder, hoping this wasn’t yet another dead end, “this might concern you, too. We’re trying to find a necromancer.”

  Thrane came up short, nearly causing us to stumble again since he never let us go. He growled, the low rumbling echoing strangely in the room. Sara was pushed toward the stairs, while he spun me around to face him.

  I finally got a good look at the tattoo under his eye. It was some kind of stylized Egyptian symbol. It added an extra level of creepy to his grin, which was already forced and predatory.

  “Necromancer, you say?”

  “Y-yes,” I stammered, really wishing he’d take his hands off me.

  “As in, the guy who has been toting zombies around town? That necromancer?”

  Sara and I exchanged a look. Maybe this wouldn’t be such a waste after all.

  His fangs extended as I watched, my eyes widening. “What do you think, people? Sounds like Very Bad Things are going down in Froofty McPrissy-pants’s territory.”

  The girl he’d addressed as Shannon shook her head. “Better not, Jimmy. Just let the necromancer take him out.”

  Thrane thrust a finger in the air dramatically. “We shall move in and strike while he is weak!”

  Shannon smirked. “Uh-huh.”

  “Muster our forces. We book a cab and arrive at midnight!”

  “Or, you know, we could go do karaoke.”

  One of Thrane’s brows shot up. He was clearly intrigued. “Oh, better idea. Muster our forces. We go next door!”

  Shannon’s eye roll made it clear that his antics were nothing unusual to this crowd. Or to her, anyway. “Aye aye, chief.”

  Man, Trinity wasn’t kidding when she said this guy was crazier than a shithouse rat. Thrane patted me on the shoulder, and I cringed. “You know, as much as I would like to help you ladies, I’m afraid I would enjoy seeing the usurper’s kingdom torn out from under him one piece at a time far more. You’re welcome to come join us for karaoke night once the mage is done dealing with that pretender.”

  “Please,” Sara said, “we’re asking for your help. If we don’t find that necromancer, something bad might happen to us.”

  “My dear, I am terribly sorry to hear that,” he replied, tipping up the brim of his hat with his thumb as he bent to go eye-to-eye with her. “If only there were something I could do. But alas, your bad taste in clients is not my problem. Now, if you’ll excuse us, karaoke music calls.”

  Fucking hell. He was hiding what he knew. Yet another grandstander—just what I needed.

  Something stirred in me, deep down, making the hair on my arms rise and my fingers arch into claws. It felt like my vision was changing, growing sharper and picking up more details. Whatever was going on, it made Thrane uneasy enough to pull back from me a couple of steps, his predatory grin easing into a frown.

  “Look,” I said, my tongue feeling strangely thick in my mouth, “I have had it up to fucking here with you goddamned showboating, vain, ostentatious assholes! You know something about this guy, and you’re deliberately keeping it from us. Do you want us to die? Because if we do, it’ll be on your head!”

  “Damn, lady,” one of the other vampires said, “no need to Hulk out. Calm the hell down.”

  My glare shut him up pretty quick. He backed off, turning his gaze away. I didn’t know what was wrong with me, but my temper hadn’t gripped me so hard since the last time I was wearing the belt. Heat and rage simmered in my veins—and I liked it.

  When I looked back at Thrane, a snarl curling my lip, he raised his hands and also took a step back from me. “Ma’am, I’m sorry if I offended. Truly.”

  “About time somebody was sorry,” I snapped.

  “Shia, don’t,” Sara said. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  As much as I would have liked to have left these weirdos behind, I stood my ground. There was no way I was walking out of here with nothing to show for it. Though there was a little voice in the back of my head that seemed to believe I might be overreacting, I wasn’t ready to let this go. Not yet.

  “Well?” I demanded of Thrane.

  He shook his head, taking another careful—very careful—step back from me. “We don’t have much information. Sometimes he comes to our neighborhood. I’ve seen him here once or twice before, but we don’t bother each other. He hasn’t made a move against my people, and I would prefer not to garner his attention. Fair enough for you?”

  Some part of me felt tempted to swipe at him with my nails. Thought that I could take him in a fight.

  There was just enough common sense left in me to remember why that was a bad idea. Visions of how quickly Max and Royce moved, how viciously they fought, swirled in my head as I closed my eyes and clenched my hands into tight fists at my side. After a few deep breaths, I relaxed enough to reopen my eyes and give him a response.

  “Fair enough. Thank you.”

  Thrane nodded, the other vampires edging over to his side or behind him. Most of them looked nervous. Maybe even a little afraid. Of me? That was an interesting change of pace.

  “Not to put too fine a point on it, but it’s become a bit crowded in here. Shall we . . . ?”

  When he gestured, I took the hint. It was long past time for us to get the hell out of there. Aside from the danger the vampires presented, there was something wrong with me, too. I needed to get out, clear my head, and get ahold of myself.

  Sara led the way, bounding up the stairs two at a time. I couldn’t really blame her for wanting to rush out. Yet she stopped at the door, blocking the exit.

  I started to ask her what was wrong, but the words trailed off as a foul stench wafted into the room. All the anger faded away like smoke on the wind as that combination of death and rot invaded my nostrils like a physical assault.

  The vampires behind me started complaining—some of them blaming Brendan for the stink—but then Sara was stumbling back into me, and I didn’t have time to worry about where it was coming from.

  Bloated, discolored fingers with long, jagged nails were grabbing at Sara’s shoulder and arm, dragging her out through the door. By the time I got over my shock enough to reach for her, she was gone.

  “Sara!”

  She screamed, and I heard wet thumps—she must have been fighting back. Thrane was trying to haul me back while I was tugging at his grip on my collar to get free and chase after her.

  “Get out of the way! We need to shut the door!”

  “Let go!”

  He did. I charged up the stairs and out, though I skidded to a stop at the sight before me, barely registering the sound of the door slamming shut and locking behind me.

  Zombies had converged on the alley, dead bodies in various states of decomposition shuffling about aimlessly, save for a few that were still crouched over a red puddle and pile of body parts stained with thick, blackish blood. Trinity. I recognized her kitten heels on the dismembered leg being munched on by one of the monsters.

  Sara was struggling and gagging in the arms of a dead man who towered over her, his lips bluish-green and peeled back from yellowing teeth, sunken, milky eyes staring at nothing in particular. He didn’t react to the thumps against his forearms and shins as she beat at him, and it was no wonder why. I doubted there were any nerve endings left to feel anything in that walking corpse.

  Some of the zombies turned in my direction, all gaping mouths and hollow or desiccated eyes. My back thudded against the door.

  A few started shuffling toward me, their feet dragging and arms slowly rising as they approached.

  “Stop, stop, stop! Those are humans, you bleeding idiots.”

  The zombies stopped exactly where they were, frozen in place. A few feet away, one tipped over on its side, losing its balance since it still had one foot in the air. It kept the pose even when it fell with a wet smack onto the pavement.

  Another was close enough to me that its shriveled, mummified fingers were only inches from my throat. I couldn’t stop staring into the empty, gaping holes of its
eye sockets, every breath coming short and sharp, too rapid for me to manage a scream.

  “Morons. All of you. Back up, you lot. Bring the other one over here.”

  The ones closest to me shuffled back, some of them voicing what sounded like annoyed moans.

  A man soon stood before me, his hands on his hips and his brilliant green eyes narrowed with irritation. He towered over me, nearly Chaz’s height, though he was skinny as a rail. I thought that might be an Armani suit draped on his lanky frame. Whatever it was, it wasn’t off the rack.

  He gestured angrily at the zombies, shooing away the ones blocking the path of the zombie still clinging to Sara, so it could set her down next to me. She smelled awful, and I didn’t even want to know what that was it had left behind in her hair. The stink grew worse as she clung to me, one leg hooking around mine as she grabbed at me and simultaneously tried to crawl under my skin and shove me in front of her.

  I couldn’t blame her. I was pretty freaked out, too, though I was currently a bit too scared to do more than stand there staring stupidly at the necromancer.

  Once the zombies shuffle-walked their way into a rough semicircle around us, some of them dripping some black liquid from hands and mouths, the guy regarded us with a frown. He slid a long-fingered hand through his dark brown hair, settling some of the gelled spikes against his skull. “Well, this is a new development. I don’t suppose you two were here with that fruit fly pretender, were you?”

  Neither Sara nor I could figure out what he was talking about. We were a little too worried about having our entrails ripped out through our throats to consider it.

  “For the love of Crowley, will you two stop looking at me like that? They’re not going to hurt you.”

  Sara made a high-pitched keening sound. I think I might have gibbered something, but I’m not sure what.

  “Right. Excellent. You know, just do me a favor. When you get back to that do-me queen, Clyde, you tell that asshole that I’m coming for him next. Got it?”

  We both nodded, fingers digging into each other’s skin and hair. That might have been blood or something else trickling over my fingers by her cheek. Didn’t know, didn’t care.

 

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