I sensed Punch’s presence and felt his eyes on me as soon as I walked in the club’s employee side door. Better avoid him as much as possible.
Catching a glimpse of Onyx onstage in a diaper as I walked over to the music booth, was no better. After handing my CD to the deejay, I hauled ass to the dressing room. Didn’t want to see foolish grins on the fat baldies sitting in the audience.
The smell of wildflowers hit my nose as soon as I opened the dressing room door. It was an unusual scent which meant there was someone new inside. The new girl…
“You must be Sleepy Willow,” she said from the far corner where she sat wearing a white mock turtleneck knit dress and black tights. She was braless, and as the pink of her nipples showed, I knew she’d fit in perfectly around here. The real killers were the five-inch leopard print stiletto come-hither pumps crossed at her ankles.
“And you are?” I said, after taking her in from head-to-toe. Niiiice.
“Queen Ming.”
“Well, welcome to Pit of Hades Fetish Club.” I leaned casually against my table and folded my arms. “You Japanese?”
“Korean.”
Ah. I was never good at categorizing people of Asian descent. “Sorry.”
“No problem.” She uncrossed her long legs and leaned forward. Long lashes, thin lips, black hair in a bun showing off a delicate neckline…
I cleared my throat. “So what’s your specialty? Shoes?” I joked.
“Yep. How’d you know? Shoes, feet…all things podophilia.”
“Really? I was joking. I didn’t know, but those shoes are to die for.”
She smiled. “Spoken like a necrophilia expert.”
I smiled back. Liked her already.
Franco stuck his head in the doorway. “Ming, you’re on in five. Tommy Lee’s out there so pay extra attention to VIP table #2,” he said. Then he stepped in, kissed my forehead and walked back out.
Ming grabbed a crystal bowl of soapy water, some cotton balls and red nail polish. I wished her luck, and she left, head held high.
It took me less than ten minutes to get ready and about as long to perform. The room was packed, energy high, but my set was dull, totally uneventful. I felt uninspired for some reason.
Surely hoped that reason had nothing to do with Remi’s absence.
Afterward, I picked random patrons and collected ten vials of blood from each for later consumption. Recent events had told me I needed to keep a stash in my motel refrigerator. I could always warm the blood in a cup. No, it wasn’t as good as feeding straight from a vein, but it was better than teetering on the verge of starvation again.
On the way back to the dressing room, I was told Franco wanted to see me ASAP. After hiding the vial case in my duffle bag, I showered, dressed, and headed to his office. Hair on the back of my neck stood as I walked in and saw Franco sitting behind his desk and an unfamiliar man sitting across from him. My instincts screamed foe!
“Willow, this is Agent Monroe.” Aha! “He’s here to ask you a few questions. I told him you were tired after your performance and he should come back if—”
“Ms…?” Monroe cut off Franco and addressed me.
“Call me Willow. What can I do for you?” I said callously. His wrinkled cheap suit, unpolished loafers, and bad dye job told me he was trying to look bigwig and failing badly. He was a wannabe trying to earn respect, working his way up the ranks, doing anything to get to the top.
Here to ask me questions. Not good.
And like a bomb over Baghdad, he produced pictures from my show the previous night.
“Ms. Willow, I am Agent Monroe, here on behalf of the Vampire Extermination Team to follow-up on a suspicion of vampirism. It has been brought to our attention that you performed a realistic death scene last night. These photos were posted online.” He spread all four out on Franco’s desk. “Is this you in the photos?”
This was one time when I wished the myth about vampires not having a reflection was true.
I feigned like I had to study them closely before answering. “Uh, yeah. That’s me. What about it?”
“You don’t have to answer any questions if you don’t feel up to it, Willow,” Franco said. “Monroe, these photos were obtained in violation of our club’s policy—”
“Agent Monroe,” he corrected. “If you have qualms with the persons who took the photos, file a claim. That’s outside my purview.” He smiled cunningly. “What I’m most interested in is the implication that you are employing a vampire.”
“This is a fetish club. It’s not against the law for me to pretend to stab myself,” I said.
“It is if you are a vampire. Are you a vampire, Ms. Willow?” Monroe sneered.
“No. Now, if you have nothing further, I’m beat and need to—”
“I’d be happy to schedule a meeting with you at your home. Where is that exactly?” He pulled a small flip pad and pen from his jacket pocket and waited.
“Why don’t you just ask your questions now and let’s get this over with.” My address was the last thing he was getting.
He chuckled. “Sure. Not a problem. Can you explain how you were able to make these scenes look so realistic?”
“Makeup.”
“May I see the makeup you used for your show?”
“You don’t think I’d be stupid enough to stab myself for real in front of everyone knowing I’d heal if I was a vampire, now do you?”
“Vamps have such superiority complexes, such arrogance…you just might. But I’m not here to speculate, just investigate. And I’ll ask the questions from now on Ms. Willow.”
Franco sighed. “Get him the makeup so he can get the hell outta my office.”
“You know this is a bad time to be a vamp-sympathizer. If I were you I’d pick the winning side,” Monroe taunted Franco.
Glad I’d kept it just in case, I got the cosmetic caboodle case from my dressing room table and returned to Monroe’s interrogation.
He ran his hands along the case and inside, rubbing powder and liquids between his fingers like he was testing the texture. A handkerchief from his inner jacket pocket was used to clean his fingers when he was done.
“Hm. You’ve anticipated this moment and covered your tracks. I’m impressed,” he said. “You’re not as dumb as I thought.”
I snorted. “Are we done now?”
“I’d like to see your dressing room if you don’t mind…maybe even your gym bag.”
Franco stood. “I think we’re done. That’s an invasion of privacy and goes against our club policy.”
Monroe stood also. “You realize immunity is afforded to me during the course of my investigation? I can search her belongings, her nigger body, your club and every last one of your nasty-ass customers if I have to. I don’t need a warrant. I don’t need your consent. All I have to prove is there was probable cause to suspect that Ms. Willow here is a vampire. That’s vampire due process.” He slammed his hand on the photos on the desk. “And I think I can prove probable cause. You wanna bet my case will hold up over your invasion of privacy claim?”
“I showed you the makeup I used for the scene in these pictures so where’s your probable cause now? Further questions and searches would be harassment.”
He stepped towards me. “I don’t need a coon telling me how to do my job,” he spat.
I stepped back. “You’re trying to bait me.” And it had almost worked. My fangs were threatening to break through.
Franco walked around his desk to face Monroe. “Get your bigot ass out of my office before I call your superiors at VET, Agent Monroe.”
Like the bell at the end of a fight, Monroe’s phone rang. He answered, raised his eyebrows, said a few uh huhs and hung up. “I have to go.”
I tried my best not to smile. “That’s a shame,” I said, moving closer to him, reaching out my hand to shake his. Time to throw some mental interference. He left my palm hanging, but his eyes were wide open and on me. That’s all I needed. I focused on his aqua b
lues and willed him to stare deep into my hazels. I stared deeper into his…
Wait a damn minute…where were his fucking pupils! They were so tiny there was barely anything to dilate. And they wouldn’t budge. That part that opened to his soul was not opening at all.
“Looking for something, Ms. Willow?” he sneered.
“Uh…No. I’m…I was just trying to shake your hand. It’s nice to meet you.” Just as I tried to step back he grabbed my palm and squeezed.
“Nice to meet you too.” He moved in close enough for me to feel his coffee breath on my face. “I know what you were looking for, I know why, and I know what you are. We’re done for now, but I’ll be back with marshmallows to roast your ass.”
Best to kill him right now…switch to Catholicism, see a confessor, say ten hail marys…
“And just so you know, if I end up missing, you will have a bull’s-eye on your black head. If you try to get missing, I’ll make sure everyone at this hellhole you call a club will be brought up on charges for aiding and abetting your escape.” He dropped my hand, unfolded his walking stick, and left.
I’d be damned. Monroe was blind.
Swallowing hard, I turned to Franco whose eyes were as wide as full moons. “You set me up,” I said.
Chapter 10
“I swear I did not.”
“Yesterday, no one here knew what I was and now that you and Punch do, the fucking VET is on my ass,” I said.
“Pure coincidence. Have you forgotten you were attacked last night? Someone was after you before now.”
“Maybe you set that up too. You had Punch drive me home. Why? You wanted to see where I live, right?” I was really getting pissed. Everything was clicking and it all pointed to Franco and it all stunk. “What? The money from Hades isn’t enough? You trying to collect on my head too?” I felt my countenance change, knew I was looking monstrous when Franco backed into his desk. “You told me to come to work tonight!” I yelled as I grabbed his throat with one hand and lifted him from the ground.
He grabbed my arm with both of his and struggled. I squeezed harder until my hand couldn’t get any tighter without crushing his windpipe. When I thought he might pass out, my hand suddenly felt like it was on fire. It got hotter and hotter and spread down my arm. I dropped him and screamed in pain. I looked at the blisters on my hand with awe as he fell to the floor coughing and gagging, trying to catch his breath. I fell to the floor next to him.
As we lay writhing and nursing our wounds, Franco choked out, “I promise I didn’t set you up. I wouldn’t do that to you or any supernatural, Willow. You gotta trust me.” Moments passed before he kicked his leg out in anger. “FUCK! If you ever try that shit again, I will fuck you up.”
I believed him. “What are you?”
“What doesn’t matter. Only who.”
“Who the fuck are you then?”
“Someone trying to save your ass. You looking skyward to some god you’ve never seen while I’m right here in your face trying to keep you alive,” he said in a stronger voice.
“I died a couple of years ago.”
“Undead then.”
“Well, at least I know you’re mortal. Apparently you can be suffocated, strangled.”
He sat up, rubbing his neck. “When I’m in a physical body.”
I looked at him sharply. “You can leave your body?”
“I don’t have a body. I’m merely borrowing this one.” He got up from the floor. “I rather like it though. Do you think I chose wisely?”
I nodded slowly, still dumfounded, unable to speak.
Upon inspection, I was relieved to find my hand had returned to normal. His crispy-critter defense mechanism hadn’t left permanent damage.
“Are you sharing the body? Is Franco your real name?” I asked once I was able to formulate thoughts and articulate them.
“The owner of this body is dead. I made a deal with him to assume his identity in exchange for something he wanted badly. I held my end of the bargain and now he is holding his.”
I shook my head. Did Franco kill him? What was the deal he’d made? What did Franco look like for real? Was he even male?
“Willow, I know you must have lots of questions about me, but the point is I am not your enemy. Humans have waged war against vampires and it will only be a matter of time before they come after the rest of us. I wanna be ready when they do. Supernaturals must stick together.”
“If you didn’t set me up, why is all this happening to me now?” I said.
“I don’t know.”
“How can I trust you? How can I trust anybody?”
“I’d let you suck my neck and fuck you good to gain your trust, but you don’t want my blood.” I frowned. I hadn’t met anyone who’s blood I didn’t want. “It’s tainted,” he said, “and sex would bind us too tightly together. Neither of us wants that.” He looked away. “Willow, I didn’t just find out you’re a vampire, darling. I’ve always known, ever since your botched attempt to feed on me. Remember? You fell asleep and I waited around ’til you woke up and offered you a job.”
I flashed back to when I’d first come back to Houston. I was hungry and hadn’t honed a system for procuring meals without getting busted or killing my source. Logistically, captivation had to come first in case I had a narcoleptic episode while in pursuit. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about getting staked and lit afire in my sleep. Aside from that, I had to catch my victim alone, bite fast, and disappear before they knew what hit ’em. It wasn’t a perfect plan but it had worked twice before.
It was late and Franco had been walking alone on the sidewalk. I’d followed him to an empty parking lot, waited until he’d unlocked his Range Rover and moved in. Falling asleep hadn’t been part of the plan, but that’s what happened as I reached him. My last thought had been oh shit, I’m dead. When I awakened, I was surprised to find him nurturing my head in his lap. He’d lifted me to his backseat and kept me safe.
Ironic, considering I’d been attacking him.
I immediately tried to captivate his mind and get on with the business of devouring his blood when I discovered I was unable to do so. I thought maybe I was just off my game. When he offered me a job at his club, I figured he’d thought I was trying to rob him and felt sorry for me. After I nailed the audition, I ordered a phlebotomy kit off the internet, and the rest was history.
But my version of history had been inaccurate, hadn’t it.
“You knew?” I said.
“From the first moment you started following me. I can sense the presence and nature of all beings. In fact, I’ve been collecting supernaturals…developing a network. I want Hades to be a haven for us. A revolution is coming and we all need to be ready.”
This was just too much. “So Punch? Fire? Cin? Everyone here is supernatural?”
“No, but I will not say who is or isn’t. I will never reveal anyone else’s gift. Everyone’s story is theirs to tell.”
“So I really can trust you.”
“Absolutely.”
Whistling all the way to the dressing room, I felt surprisingly giddy. I could trust Franco. He wanted to help me, to help all of us, and he had the means to do so. Hades had felt like home, but I never knew how much it really was. I was surrounded by others with dark secrets. They weren’t illegals like me, but we had common enemies—humans. For the first time since I’d been turned, I actually felt God was smiling down on me, sending me a sign that he’d protect me, that I was all right with him. Yeah, I knew Franco didn’t believe he was doing God’s work, but whether he believed it or not, Franco was part of God’s master plan. God could use even the unwilling because he worked in mysterious—
What the…
Ming was leaning over my table with her arm elbow-deep in my duffle bag.
She turned abruptly as if she sensed me in the doorway and laughed nervously. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. I know this looks bad, but I’m really desperate. You wouldn’t happen to have a tampon or pad, would you? I go
t a surprise visitor and with all this white…”
Bullshit. She was lying through her teeth. If she was bleeding I’d smell it, and the only thing I smelled was wildflowers and BS. Dumb bitch had been caught rifling through my bag. “No, I do not,” I said icily.
I didn’t even have a period anymore, thank God.
“Darn. Well, thanks anyway.” She walked back to her table and started packing her stuff. Apparently, she’d forgotten she still needed to protect all that white she was wearing.
What the hell was Franco trying to pull? Oh, trust me, Willow. We gotta stick together yada yada.
Was this his doing? Had he distracted me in his office while his hussy rummaged through my stuff for evidence? Or was she acting independently? And if so, why was she targeting me?
There was some shady business going on around here and I needed to get to the bottom of it. Resolved to seek counsel from someone I did trust, I gathered my things and headed to her house.
Chapter 11
I never needed an appointment to see her, never even knocked on her door. As always, as soon as I started up the steps, Saybree’s front door creaked opened to a red-lit foyer.
The one-story house was quiet, with the exception of cats meowing and scratching across hardwood floors. Declawing them would have been my top priority, but I suspected they were really humans made pets. Of course, I had no proof…and it wouldn’t matter to me one way or the other. So whatever.
Before I was in good, a strong peppermint, ginger and lemon scent greeted me. She’d either been ridding the house of evil spirits or trying to boost her mood. I never could be straight on which scent combos were for aromatherapy and which were for spell-casting.
“It’s late, Willow.” Her soft voice came from the kitchen.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just got off work.” I closed the door behind myself and walked towards her voice.
She was sitting by the window at the table, illuminated by a black candle centerpiece. Looked like she had been waiting for me all night. Her long black hair had more gray streaks than last time and her hands were bonier. Even her usually radiant Indian skin, looked dull and cracked. She’d aged significantly within just a few months.
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