The Undead Detective Bites: Book 1

by Jennifer Hilt

  This was a surprising turn of events.

  “He tried to talk to me last night,” Ben offered, buttoning up his coat against the cold down here.

  “What?” Fang and I asked together, turning to stare at Ben.

  Ben shifted his eyes away from meeting mine.

  “Mr. Figgles needed a walk late last night. I had my silver chains on. I figured it was ok.” Ben shrugged. “We met the vamp. He kept his distance but said he needed to talk to me and that it was urgent. I told him to go to hell. Mr. Figgles and I came back inside. That was the last I’d seen of him. Until now.”

  As soon as I had a free minute I was going to give Ben a serious lecture on safety and his surroundings. Here I thought he was safe inside with an injured but recovering Fang. And I find out he’s wandering around outside at night where there are three vampires in residence. I had no idea where Idris, Elsbeth and Junior spent their days, but they were moving on from the motel a.s.a.p. Even if the coven cancelled, I wanted them gone.

  Pinky appeared with a gaunt freckled young man with the curliest hair I’d ever seen. It was like a shrub on his head. He wore a dark blue button-down shirt, pants and work boots. He kept his head down and scrunched his shoulders. He was a ghoul. His garlic odor was, pardon the expression, a dead giveaway. I was on a roll tonight.

  I wrinkled my nose, trying not to inhale.

  Ghouls were the pariahs of the paranormal community because sensitive supernatural senses hate garlic.

  A quick glance at Ben confirmed he’d picked up the scent too. His eyes tracked the room, trying to puzzle it out. Ghouls were pretty uncommon, and this was probably his first.

  “This is Ron.” Pinky indicated to Ron before folding her arms over her ample chest. She planted her feet shoulder-width apart. Odds were bouncer employment was somewhere on her resume.

  “Thanks Pinky,” Leon nodded. “Ron, tell us what happened.”

  The ghoul glanced at the vampire. He visibly shuddered. Was he scared or hungry?

  “We needed more cleaning products,” Ron began. His voice was soft. He had a slight lisp on his S sounds. “The guests have trouble holding their liquor with all the free drinks. We’d run out upstairs so I came down here to get more. I left the door unlocked because I figured I’d need two trips. When I came back after my first trip, the vamp was like this.”

  “Where?” I asked.

  “Where he is. I didn’t move him.”

  “Did you see anyone else in the hall or down here?” Leon asked.

  “No.”

  “I was only gone maybe ten minutes.” Ron scratched the side of his nose with a bony finger.

  “Had you seen this vampire before?” I asked.

  “No.”

  Junior was down here and was staked or he was staked then brought down here. Either way that is not much time.

  And he’d be a bitch to move.

  “What is he doing down here on opening night of my casino?” Leon asked. He’d loosened his bowtie. I’d never seen him rattled before.

  “Someone wanted him found. If he was above-ground, he’d be dust and a stake come morning,” Fang said. “We’ll take him to the morgue.”

  We needed to question the kitchen staff. They might be busy but Junior’s size was hard to miss.

  “Don’t mind the dead vampire, nothing to see here,” was hardly going to work now.

  “Let’s lock him in. We haven’t finished looking around. We’ll pick him up on our way out,” Fang said.

  We filed out back upstairs.

  “Elsbeth and Idris have to be here. I can’t see Junior wandering this far. Unless Elsbeth got him one heck of a long leash.”

  “It’s worth us each taking another turn through the casino.” Fang nodded.

  “You up for that?” I asked. “You were wheezing like a geezer coming up those stairs.”

  Fang crinkled his eyes at the corners. “Thanks, glad to know I’m aging well.”

  “You’re not aging,” I said. “You’re injured.”

  “Silverthorne, don’t fret. It doesn’t become you.”

  “Since you have everything under control, I’m going to talk to the kitchen staff.”

  I stayed behind while Ben followed Fang. Leon hurried to his host duties without a look back. There was no love lost between him and his sister. Whatever her other talents, Triana Fang was good at burning bridges.

  The kitchen aroma was heavenly with all that uncooked meat. Questioning the shifter staff yielded nothing of interest. They were busy with their work amidst opening night chaos. I didn’t share about the dead vamp lying in the basement but no one reported anything strange.

  However, I was directed down another hall to the paranormal equivalent of a wine cellar. Fresh animal blood was offered at the bar in the casino. For the high rollers, a few human donors lay on cots selling their blood in a separate room. It was sparse but tidy with a few shifter nurses drawing the blood and providing IV fluids as necessary. The facilities were as well stocked as the blood banks I’d visited. Leon wasn’t messing around with offering a premium service.

  This was a dead end.

  I returned to the main casino. An excited hush swept through the space. The night’s entertainment was about to begin. Beyond the gaming section, tables, chairs and overheads lights shone on a dinner theater.

  I joined Fang and Ben in the back of the room. I scanned the crowd, hoping to glimpse Idris or Elsbeth. I couldn’t even begin to imagine their costumes.

  Meanwhile, the paranormal crowd leaned forward in anticipation. Overhead lights dimmed. A few wolf calls rippled through the audience. I winced. How tacky. A wolf wearing a sports coat is just that.

  A spotlight shone on the vast black velvet theater curtain, picking up the sequins and making it shimmer. A few latecomers hurried to their seats.

  A hush fell over the room at the drum roll.

  Then a body dropped from the ceiling, dangling on a rope.

  Just like Cirque Du Soleil.

  The room exploded into applause and more than a few howls.

  But the body hung there.

  It didn’t move, but instead it swung slightly back and forth from the momentum of the drop.

  Its decayed scent drifted down to the crowd penetrating the room at the same time.

  “Oh, hell.” Fang’s face grew pale under his tan. His fingers dug into my forearm.

  The body was a blonde humanoid female. With all the scents crawling around this place it was impossible to identify her at this distance.

  “It’s her dress,” Fang said.

  “Whose?” Ben gazed up at the dangling corpse in morbid fascination, cuddling Mr. Figgles.

  “My ex-wife.” Fang grimaced. “I bought it for her.”

  Fuck.

  I hissed in frustration.

  Triana Fang.

  I wanted to find her but not like this. She wasn’t going to be much use to me dead. I was sure she’d taken as many secrets to the grave with her as possible if only to strike out at Leon and Fang.

  The clapping ceased as the body continued to dangle.

  It stopped swinging like a pendulum, and now it turned one direction and then the other.

  Someone killed the spotlight. The crowd booed.

  Idiots. They thought this was part of the act.

  A jazz band began playing sultry tunes while the spotlight was cut. Waitresses dressed suspiciously similar to me passed around complimentary cocktails.

  “We’ve gotta cut her down.” Fang handed Ben his hat and then began shedding his overcoat slower than normal. His movements were stiff and clumsy.

  Leon snarled as he approached us.

  For the first time I got a glimpse of his vicious wolf. And more than a little thrilling.

  “What the fuck are you doing? ” His hangers-on still trailed behind him, but now they were agitated, crying and wringing their hands. One of their own was dead.

  “I’ll get her.” Fang headed toward the stage.

 
“You can’t get in through the back. The door to the catwalk is blocked from the inside.” Leon grabbed his arm, slowing his progress.

  Fang stopped, staring up at the corpse. “Then how? She’s gotta be thirty feet up.”

  Yeah, Fang was in no condition to even be here let alone mount a rescue for his pain in the ass dead wife.

  I wasn’t willing to risk him joining Triana in the afterlife. I might not be able to have him but I sure as hell wasn’t giving him back to her so easily.

  “I’ll get her.” I stepped between them.

  Fang and Leon turned to me. Their mouths opened but they were, for the first time in our acquaintance, speechless.

  “I can shimmy up there. Just get me some damned rope and a knife so I can cut her down. And hurry up before there’s a riot.” I scanned the room before returning to study the body dangling over our heads. I didn’t meet any of the now three pairs of eyes staring at me.

  “This is crazy,” Ben said.

  “Agreed,” Fang replied.

  “There’s a dead shifter hanging from the ceiling. I’m small enough to not break the rope and yet strong enough to carry her down. Hopefully, though, I can get the connecting door up there unblocked. And it seems unlikely you’re going to find someone else to do it immediately.”

  A death in a pack is a big deal. Something like this could lead to a major freak-out. And I didn’t need to point out to Leon this was his second dead body of the night. Someone really had it in for his casino.

  “If you fall from that height—” Ben shuddered.

  “She’s not going to fall,” Fang said. “She’s an excellent climber.”

  Fang’s reaction was a pleasant surprise. Of course I could do it. I was the logical choice.

  That’s how I happened to climb up a thirty-foot rope dressed like some bondage dominatrix with pretty much the entire casino staring at my ass.

  “My offer still stands if you want to borrow my coat,” Fang murmured as I prepared to climb.

  It was a sweet thought and so like Fang, but I had no time for it. “No thanks. Though I should probably think of a way to charge Leon for this service. Judging by the crowd gathered, he’s going to cash in on the tragedy.”

  The shifters were genuinely grieving, but the rest of the paranormals were curious, at least, and enjoying the drama. It wasn’t every day that the casino owner’s missing sister dropped dead out of the ceiling on opening night.

  “Here, take these.” Ben shucked off his leather gloves. “They’ll be a little big but better than nothing.”

  One of Leon’s minions produced a coil of rope that I looped over one shoulder. Fang pulled a hunting knife out of his boot, handing it to me.

  I looked up.

  Triana still dangled. She swung slightly, looking like a macabre wind chime.

  It was a long way up.

  I was really going to risk my life, such as it was, for this shifter who was already dead and who, quite frankly, I had no affection for in real life. There was no dignity to this death. Just like with Griz. I was doing it for Fang and for hope of learning more about Glytr. It wasn’t for Triana per say.

  “You can do it.” Fang put his hand on my shoulder.

  Ben’s eyebrows shot skyward.

  Generally I wasn’t big on being touched unless I initiated the contact. “

  “Good luck,” Ben whispered, waving one of Mr. Figgles’ paws at me.

  “She doesn’t need it. She’s an excellent climber,” Fang said.

  “Why do you keep saying that? I’ve known her eight years, and I’ve never seen her go climbing once. I never even heard that was a vamp thing. I mean, what’s the point of climbing at night anyway?”

  “You’d be surprised,” Fang murmured. A fleeting smile played at the edge of his lips.

  Have I mentioned he has a fantastic mouth?

  Ben’s browns were pinched in worry. He held onto Mr. Figgles so tightly the dog squirmed.

  “Keep an eye on these.” I removed my boots and handed them to Ben.

  I swallowed, flexing my fingers in Ben’s gloves. They were still warm on the inside from his body heat.

  I would do this.

  Fang was relying on me. The community of Nowhere would be devastated if Glytr took root. I would not drop to my death. There was no way Idris was accepting the Vobel as a sole recipient.

  I grabbed hold of the rope, pulled myself up, and started to climb.

  14

  The first part of the climb was easy. About halfway up, my shoulders and arms started aching. With about a quarter more to go, I made the mistake of looking down. I wasn’t bothered by heights in general, but this wasn’t exactly routine for me. Plus, shimmying up a rope is not the same as rock climbing.

  Above me, Triana hung so that her long hair obscured her face. She was roped around one ankle. Her other limbs dangled downward. I craned my neck, curious about the color of her skin. It could tell me a lot about how she died and when. But I couldn’t tell much. The spotlight was still off.

  A flutter of excitement flitted through me at the thought of doing the autopsy. Pathology provided answers for the dead. The dead didn’t need them, but those left behind sure did. That was the basis for justice or revenge.

  Inside my gloves my palms were sweaty. I climbed farther.

  Between the dress and the blood, Triana’s corpse was covered in red, as though she’d been dipped in it. I wrinkled my nose.

  Who would do that? And why?

  Had Leon grown tired enough of her whims that he murdered her?

  I was almost close enough to reach her. Now I had to get us both down without falling. I didn’t want any evidence crushed in the fall.

  I needed to crawl over her because I couldn’t do anything from this vantage point. A few raucous catcalls reached me, followed by protests at being removed by security. I was happy the demons finally got to rough somebody up. That would make their night.

  I made it over her body, trying to touch her as little as possible, but my arms ached. She smelled rank.

  I kept climbing. I was almost at the lower edge of the catwalk when my right hand slipped. I had a moment of terror before I realized my left hand was still holding on. My fingers were slipping ever so slightly. It would be a long way to drop.

  Swinging my right hand up to the rope again required the rest of my energy. I should’ve fed more earlier. This is what happens when a vamp runs close to the wire without sufficent nourishment. We are less invincible than we want to admit.

  I pulled myself up and then lay on the catwalk for a few minutes, catching my breath. There was no sign of anyone up here now.

  It was going to be much easier to exit from the barred catwalk than to try to rappel down with Triana. That latter option would be more dramatic, and I suspected Leon in his craven heart was probably disappointed the show was over, even if it featured his sister.

  The door was locked from the inside, and a fire extinguisher was lodged under the door handle. Easy enough to remove from this side, but from the outside the steel door would’ve had to be cut off its hinges. I removed the tank and popped the door open, very happy to have Ben’s gloves so that I didn’t leave any fingerprints to contaminate the scene.

  I leaned over the catwalk, giving a thumbs-up to those below. Then I sat down to wait until help arrived.

  My breathing was labored. Triana was about my weight but the added stress of those below us and her being dead impacted me more than I thought. My legs felt rubbery. I wasn’t in a hurry to get back on my feet right now.

  I was deeply grateful the rope had held my body weight and Triana’s. I tried not to think what if the murderer damaged the rope so that we’d both plunge to the ground.

  In LA, I didn’t need superior physical strength. I could channel my energies to my mind. But up here in Nowhere, among an exclusively paranormal population with a killer on the loose, it wasn’t wise.

  I closed my eyes, concentrating on controlling my breathing. I felt
a little lightheaded. I must’ve started hyperventilating.

  “Are you all right?” I could feel Fang’s breath on my cheek as he crouched before me. He laid his hand on my forehead. “Ben, come here, she needs to feed.”

  “No, I’m all right.” I waved them away but my arm felt heavy. It dropped like a puppet with a cut string.

  “Let’s get you down back downstairs.” Ben gently put his hand around my shoulders and pulled me to my feet.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to bite you right now,” I grumbled. I was surprised how tired I felt. Weakness was not anything a vampire ever admitted. I hoped it wasn’t clear to anyone who might be watching who was leaning on whom as we made our way off the catwalk.

  “If you need to feed, Ha . . . Dr. Silverthorne, then you must. It’s my job to support you.” Ben guided me down some stairs and into an office with a couch. It was a nice office but not the boss’s. I could tell, no window. Leon’s office would have great big windows to match his great big ego.

  I was starting to feel better. Was Triana’s death suicide or murder? I could grant Triana some cunning, but a suicide in that manner was rather beyond her capabilities. Perhaps she had help. Or it was murder.

  It had to be someone at the casino. But who? There were so many beings here, identifying the right one would be like finding a vampire on the beach. And most puzzling of all, how had they gotten out when the door was locked from the inside?

  “Are you ok?’ Ben rubbed my shoulders. It really didn’t make me feel any better. In fact it was rather annoying because of all the leather straps of this costume.

  “It must have hurt like hell to climb that rope. Let me see your hands.”

  I showed him my bloodied palms.

  Ben tsked, digging in his coat pockets for some type of treatment. Did he really carry a first-aid kit with him? I had the best PA ever.

  His ministrations were futile but I didn’t tell him. This was better than the back rub was and he seemed to need to do something. Any cuts I had would heal by the time I woke tomorrow night from the dead. That was just how it worked as a vampire.

  Leon’s wall clock showed that the night was slipping away.

  Most likely the autopsy would have to wait until tomorrow. More time gone.