The Undead Detective Bites: Book 1

by Jennifer Hilt

  I hissed at Fang, slapping his arm away from Ben.

  Ben was startled and shrank back at our altercation. He blinked. “I hate it when Mom and Dad fight.”

  Fang rolled his eyes. “Look alive, and try not to get eaten in the parking lot.”

  The cold night breeze blew up my skirt, which barely covered my ass. Demons parked vehicles of every shape and size at haphazard angles. Frost was beginning to form on windshields, creating visibility challenges, especially when the demons didn’t bother to defrost the cars.

  The casino demons dressed in bright red jackets just like the ones worn by valet staff at every fancy place. The difference here was their scales, horns and hot skin caused singe marks on the uniforms. A supervisor (wearing a headset and gold-fringed shoulder pads) ran around randomly prodding employees and patrons alike in the ass with a pitchfork. Not surprisingly this caused considerable traffic delays as fights broke out.

  Leon might want to rethink some of the job assignments.

  We walked up to the casino entrance with Ben hugging Mr. Figgles like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz. I tugged Ben along by his sleeve to keep him from falling behind or getting snatched before we even got inside. Ben was used to LA weird, but the paranormals here made the humans at home look tame.

  “Didn’t you think to bring a stroller for him?” Fang whispered. Shivers raced up my spine when his breath tickled my ear. I could feel myself weaken.

  Fuck it. I wasn’t made of stone.

  I spun around, grabbing Ben. He basically stumbled into me because he’d been gawking. Mr. Figgles yelped in protest at the jostling, but I silenced him with a hiss.

  “I need to feed, Ben. I can do it with or without ruining your fancy coat.”

  “Here.” Ben handed Mr. Figgles to Fang without the slightest alarm at my request.

  How could he be so calm when I was ready to rip into his throat?

  Paranormals streamed around us toward the entrance. Christ, was that a Medusa? I hadn’t seen one of them in years. Still as ugly as ever. But to be fair, even a designer dress isn’t going to compete with a head of snapping snakes.

  “Why didn’t you do this before we left the motel? You know how hard it is to get blood stains out.” He divested himself briskly of his duster before working on his shirt buttons. Goosebumps rippled across his tanned skin in the cold. I wished he’d stay away from tanning beds, but like all the young, he assumed he’d live forever. “I’m ready.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Fang start to move.

  I pulled Ben into my embrace. He went limp in my arms like a heroine in some black-and-white movie. “Never forget this is what I am,” I said to Ben but it was meant more for Fang.

  Fang was unperturbed by my snarl. Instead he ushered us to the side of the entrance. “I’ve not forgotten anything, Silverthorne. Anything. But the sign says ‘No Outside Feedings,’ so let’s at least move out of the horde.”

  As soon as we were off to one side, I pulled my arm loose from Fang. Mr. Figgles huddled against Fang’s ankles. Fang’s broad form blocking us from the view of the distracted patrons hurrying inside. “You’re starving. Eat.”

  My fangs broke the skin in Ben’s neck easily. The spurt of his fresh blood made me salivate. I fixed my lips over the gash, letting his blood coat my tongue. I can’t remember any equivalent for what it’s like to feed from when I was a human. It’s like a million times more powerful than a craving. Ben’s blood tasted sweet and salty. I closed my eyes, feeling my body calm down as the nourishment entered me.

  I wouldn’t say I have a clinical diagnosis when it comes to feeding, but I’m aware it’s not healthy for a vampire to fast as much as I do for as long as I do. Maybe sometime I’ll study psychiatry and find out what is really going on. But for now, I’d rather not think about it.

  I stopped abruptly just when I was starting to feel the edge come off. Ben could easily become anemic, and I needed him functioning at full capacity here.

  I applied pressure to his puncture wound to stop the bleeding and licked my lips, savoring the last of his blood.

  Delicious.

  He’d fallen into a semiconscious state not unlike what most humans experience after sex. I held him in my arms. We were about equal height, which made feeding from him easy.

  After his bleeding stopped, I rested my forehead against his. He appeared to be asleep. He was trusting, and so very young.

  “Ben, wake up.”

  His eyelids fluttered. He looked a bit dazed. “That was fast.” He wobbled and I steadied him on his feet. He pulled his shirt back on and fumbled with the buttons. “That was like the equivalent of a drive-thru, huh?”

  I was shaking. That taste of blood was heaven and hell. It nourished my body some, but it reminded me how hungry I was still.

  I turned away from Ben.

  And there was Mr. Figgles sitting on Fang’s boots. That dog would do anything not to have his ass get cold. The dog’s tail swished when our eyes met.

  “Let me see, Hattie,” Fang said so quietly I wasn’t sure he’d spoken.

  A fight broke out between two valets, and several more joined the ruckus. And we’d not even gotten inside yet.

  I raised my eyes to meet Fang’s calm gray ones. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, feeling guilty about what had just happened but knowing there was nothing I could do about it if I wanted to survive. I drank blood. I was vampire.

  In Fang’s eyes I saw no condemnation. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a white cotton handkerchief. I hadn’t seen one of those in years. These days everything is disposable.

  I reached up to take the cloth from him.

  “Here, let me.” He dabbed it to his tongue to wet it and then gently wiped at the edge of my mouth. His eyes were on my lips.

  I pulled away. “Thank you.” Turning to Ben, I asked, “You ready to go?” He was finishing buttoning his shirt.

  Fang handed him his coat. “Don’t forget your dog.” He pointed to Mr. Figgles, who seemed quite happy sitting on Fang’s feet. “I encourage you to keep a good hold of it when we get inside.”

  Ben picked up Mr. Figgles, who tolerated them rubbing noses.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  We didn’t get far before another hold up. More demons. This time they were running the door security.

  If I’d had a hope Fang would relinquish the vehicle keys, he’d never give up his weapon.

  The door-check demons had their orders, though, and stood fast. And to be honest, they were a more professional lot than the valet crew. Leon had saved the higher quality staff for the screening.

  “The sheriff is Mr. Ryk’s brother-in-law.”

  The demons exchanged glances with each other.

  “Call him down here. You’ll see. He’s not going to be happy you’re giving his family the third degree,” I pointed out.

  We were shunted off to one side to wait. Inside, the club looked exactly like one of many Las Vegas casinos. A deep red carpet covered the entire vast floor. The color was an excellent choice, given the patrons. Chandeliers glittered from the ceiling. The whole place was smoky, which wasn’t a problem since paranomals tended to be less bothered by secondhand smoke than humans.

  The open casino floor was divided into blackjack, one-armed bandits, poker, dice, and roulette. There was a massive bar at one end. Even though the place had just opened, a thick layer of cigarette smoke hung like a fog over the place.

  Leon was dressed in a black tuxedo with tails and top hat which was a perfect complement to his fair features. He even brandished an elegant walking stick. It always surprised me he was a wolf shifter when every time I saw him I thought ‘mountain lion.’ He might be the alpha male for the pack but there was the touch of feline about him.

  I attributed this to his sly character. He was the defacto head of Nowhere. The son of the founding family, the mayor, the major landowner and now he co-owned the casino with his sister Triana, Fang’s now ex-wife.

&nb
sp; In a testament to his status, a pack of male and female shifter hangers-on followed Leon tonight. They were young too. What was it about youth and power that humans and paranormals craved?

  “So good to see you so soon, Dr. Silverthorne.” Leon took one of my hands in his and then brought it to his lips for a kiss. He was genial, but a muscle ticked in his clean-shaven jaw. “Love the costume! Très sexy.”

  I smiled politely (not showing my fangs). “Thanks for the invitation.”

  “Sheriff,” Leon said, “I’m so sorry to hear about Griz. He’d been an established part of this community. His death is a real loss. Do you have any suspects yet?”

  “I can’t say.”

  “As the mayor, please call on me if you need any additional resources,” Leon said. He glanced back to me. “I’m sure Dr. Silverthorne is a huge help.”

  “Is Triana here? I’d really like to talk with her,” I said.

  “I’ve not seen her in a few days.” He glanced meaningfully at Fang. “She disappears at the most inopportune times.”

  “I’ve not heard from her either. I was hoping you’d seen her.”

  Despite knowing each other for decades, these two shifters were ill at ease.

  If Fang was one of Leon’s pack members, there’d be some submission involved but that was never going to happen. The best they could hope for was a draw. Even if he hadn’t married Triana, Leon was never going to like Fang and vice versa.

  Ben was sandwiched between me and Fang, like a curious child leaning over the front seat in the car.

  Mr. Figgles was just plain terrorized. The latter was smart enough to realize he was out of place.

  I’d never stopped to consider Leon’s sexual preference before, but I was certain that Ben hoped it was in his favor. My assistant quivered with excitement.

  “Fang, I didn’t know you had a younger brother!” Leon exclaimed, turning on all the charm. Shifters were like puppies, they wanted all the adoration. It really was embarrassing to be around them. I thought, have a little self-respect, but kept the comments to myself.

  Ben thrust his hand between us, but neither I nor Fang budged to let him through. “I’m Ben Wakefield. Dr. Silverthorne’s personal assistant.”

  Leon’s head swung between studying Ben and Fang.

  “No blood ties? Incredible. You two share such a strong resemblance. He could be your son.” Leon glanced at me quizzically.

  Why look at me? I had no idea what he was talking about. Plus he was just as familiar with how little vampires were made as Fang.

  “Triana contacted us about Glytr at the casino. We’d like to look around,” I lied. Technically she’d told this to Idris but it was close enough for my purposes. I really should have come alone. Having an entourage was cramping my style.

  Leon swept his arms wide.“ That’s a human behavior—you won’t find anything like that here but be my guest.” He lowered his voice for me, “Triana was disgruntled that her office wasn’t as big as mine. She probably created that vicious rumor to hurt me.”

  Security waved the three of us through. Fang propelled me forward before I got the chance to speak to Leon again.

  “Let’s look around first before you interrogate him,” he murmured.

  Deeper inside the casino was packed with every form of paranormal life—mostly shifters but also witches, vamps, demons, trolls, and dwarves. Plus an assortment of creatures I could only describe as Muppet-collection rejects under “Other.” It really was fascinating. I’d been living in LA among humans so long, I forgot about the diversity of paranormal life.

  The costume aspect was a clever idea, but it was disappointing how many of the guests dressed as Hollywood versions of their species. Hair slicked back, white shirts and cheap nylon black capes were pretty popular. There was the usual assortment of slutty witches and sheets with holes for ghosts. A few wore clothes from earlier eras which they probably pulled out of their own closets.

  It seemed that paranormals craved the ordinary the way humans craved the supernatural.

  Interesting. Perhaps I’d get around to that degree in psychiatry yet.

  I stopped to read a massive banner in the center of the room.

  Twin Moons Casino Rules:

  Proceed at your own risk.

  Bite at your own risk.

  No weapons. Ever.

  No outside food, drink or magic.

  The management reserves the right to remove you and/or your bodies at any time.

  The management accepts no responsibility for anything.

  THAT PRETTY MUCH COVERED EVERYTHING FOR a paranormal casino.

  I was feeling alert and sparkly, almost upbeat, after Ben’s blood. I mostly drank donated blood these days with small sips from Ben to top me off. I’d tried not to remember how delicious the fresh stuff was. There was no doubt something was lost in the processing of it. And to be honest the sensation of tearing into Ben made me think of a cat playing with its food. It’d be like the difference between powdered orange juice and freshly squeezed for a human.

  Ben and Mr. Figgles stayed close behind me, but I was less worried about them than I’d been at the motel. Even if the visible blood had been washed off Ben, my scent still clung to him. The way he trotted after me docily, no one missed that he was mine.

  “Didn’t you read the rules, little girl? No outside food or drink.” Another vampire, wearing a sky-blue leisure suit and a pompadour wig, eyed me over the top of his sunglasses from the poker table.

  He was a young vampire and an obvious Elvis fan. I pegged him at less than fifty years old after the Bite. I could tell the latter because he engaged me. The young ones still crave some sense of community or belonging. They haven’t adjusted to the fact they are alone for eternity. Any vampire around long enough to know propriety ignored other vamps until one was so senior (like Elsbeth) that it could be taken as an insult.

  I ignored Mr. Leisure Suit. He wasn’t worth my time.

  After Fang and I made one circuit, we met to compare notes—which were nil. No one had seen or heard from Triana. They were, however, eager for any details of her disappearance.

  Paranormals were the biggest gossips.

  We were pondering our next move when Leon appeared to us, minus his herd.

  “You two come with me,” he said, taking Fang and me each by the arm and propelling us forward.

  Fang pulled his arm free, refusing to be pushed along. In the process he triggered a coughing spree. He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to splint the pain but judging from the look on his face he failed.

  “What’s the matter with him?” Leon raised his eyebrows at me. “Forget it. Doesn’t matter.” He continued forward, taking up my arm only this time.

  “Leon, is Triana here?” I asked.

  We moved through the crowd. He nodded to paranormals, always the politician his face was frozen into a smile.

  “We found a corpse and it’s a vampire,” he said.

  13

  Please let it be Elsbeth.

  Leon strode ahead with me, Fang, Ben and Mr. Figgles trailing along.

  Leon took us down a back hallway that judging from the clanging of pots and pans was near the kitchen.

  “Slow down. Let’s wait for Fang. Whoever it is is already dead,” I said.

  Leon cast me a soured glance but slowed his pace. Fang and Ben caught up. None of us spoke as we passed into the kitchens, clogged with staff. They unloaded steaming dishwashers and plated raw meats at room temperature. Except for witches, paranormals weren’t vegetarians.

  Several large pantries and giant stainless refrigerators lined the walls. We followed him through another corridor stacked with serving trays and supersize cans of crushed tomatoes.

  A boxy uniformed security guard with a bright red buzz cut and nose ring waited outside an unmarked door. Pinky had a new neck tattoo peeking out from her collared shirt. Her skin has the pinkish coloring of fresh shed skin. She smelled like eucalyptus. Dead giveaway, she was a lizard
shifter.

  She cracked her knuckles when she saw us. She nodded to Leon, opened the door and allowed us to pass before following us downstairs.

  That Leon had a below ground level surprised me. Rock base was a bitch to dig out in the desert. He must’ve spent a pretty penny blasting this out.

  It was cold down here without heat. The painted gray walls and few overhead fluorescent lights were motion activated. Still it felt like the morgue but less cheery. This room was meant for storage but as the casino was new it was empty except for cleaning products.

  And the dead vampire with a stake through his chest.

  Leon squinted. “Good God, is he wearing a diaper?”

  Pinky turned her head, coughing into her fist. It sure sounded like a strangled laugh. “Sir, he appears to be wearing sumo wrestling garb.”

  “Right.” Leon ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Because that’s so common around here.”

  Pinky glanced at me. “We have the dishwasher who found him, waiting in the security office.”

  Leon nodded before turning to our trio. “What do you think?”

  Junior’s long dark hair was spread out behind his head like a fan.

  The stake was clean through his heart. There was no sign of struggle. He’d been taken by surprise. If not, I’d expect his assailant was beaten to a bloody pulp before the staking.

  “Whoever staked him was practiced or extremely lucky.” Fang squinted down at Junior.

  “Who is he?” Leon asked.

  “He’s my brother.”

  The casino owner’s eyes widened then narrowed. “What’s he doing staked in my storage basement?”

  I squatted to take a better look. Outside of the dead vamp, nothing appeared out of place. We’d check the stake for prints but anyone going through all this trouble was hardly going to leave obvious clues for us to find.

  “I have no idea. You the one who found him?” I asked Pinky.

  Pinky shook her head. “No, that was the dishwasher.”

  “Bring Ron here,” Leon said to her.

  After she left we all continued to stare down at Junior.