by C. D. Hussey
Surely she could go one day without him. She wasn't that pathetic. Besides, she had a point to prove. Running to his muscular arms and nuzzling into his perfect chest and inhaling his perfect scent because she was lonely was not going to help her case.
Setting her purse on the bar, she tossed her coat on the couch before navigating the stairs down to Luxure.
The angst was even worse in the bar.
She glanced at Kindle. "God, can we burn some incense or something?"
He wrinkled his nose. "It won't help."
She glanced around the still empty bar. "I thought Slade was coming in tonight. And where's Armand?"
"Therein lies the problem."
She sat on a barstool and he automatically poured her a glass of wine. "Oh God, what happened?" she wondered, taking a drink of the wine and letting out an appreciative, "Mmm." One year and the Pinot Noir hadn't gotten old.
"I overheard something about bail and Slade."
She choked on the delicious mouthful of red bliss in her mouth. Coughing, she took the napkin he held out for her and wiped her mouth. "Bail? I don't get it."
"From what I could understand of Armand's rant, Slade was arrested for assault … against Lohr."
"That's ridiculous."
"I guess Lohr pressed charges."
"Surely a judge will dismiss them."
"Fuck, I hope so."
Julia spun to see Slade pushing though the door, Kate wrapped in his good arm, the other arm still suspended in a sling. He looked a million times better than the last time she'd seen him—in a hospital bed, fighting an infection. If she had any doubts about his Human Vampire condition and need for blood, no matter how miniscule, they were abolished.
She rose from the barstool, ready to embrace them when Armand's deep growl froze her. "If not, we'll get the best lawyer money can buy. You are not going to jail for that asshole." Walking in behind Slade and Kate, Armand's expression was dark and angry. He looked downright dangerous.
Any lingering anger she harbored from their argument the night before was shoved aside by concern. She started for him, ready to offer any soothing she could. He held up his hands to stop her, closing his eyes and shaking his head tensely.
She was pretty sure her molars were going to shatter as tightly as she clamped her jaw shut. Turning to Slade, she forced a smile to replace her frown. "I'm sure it won't come to that. I really can't believe the charges weren't dismissed. I mean, considering everything…" She glanced at Kate. One look at the younger woman's pained expression and she wished she hadn't brought up that last little bit.
The evening wasn't starting off too hot.
Slade shrugged. "Apparently I did enough damage to Lohr's face the judge couldn't ignore it." He kissed Kate's cheek. "It was worth it."
"Well, I'm glad you're here." She squeezed Kate's shoulder. Barely giving Armand a passing glance, she turned, retrieved her wine from the bar, and headed back upstairs.
She wished the weirdness with Angel had never happened. She could really use a little yoga therapy. She routinely took classes at Angel's studio. Not just yoga, but some of her aerial arts classes as well. Even without Clare dragging her to weird classes, Julia still managed to find them.
She suddenly missed her sister terribly. She'd only talked to her twice since the wedding. It wasn't by choice. Even though she'd been in Europe for the last month, she still called her sister regularly. Most times she called she got Clare's voicemail.
Retrieving her phone, she hit the speed dial. It didn't even ring and the voicemail box was full.
Frustrated, she tossed the phone back into her purse with enough force it cracked loudly against her keys. Frustrated because she really needed to talk to someone, and frustrated because she was beginning to worry about Clare. Since Julia had moved to New Orleans, they weren't quite as close as they'd once been, but they still spoke on the phone at least three times a week. And Clare was usually good about returning phone calls. If Julia didn't hear from her soon, she was booking a flight to St. Louis.
As her gaze swept over the lifeless apartment (Bubbers hadn't forgiven her for stomping at him the night before and was still hiding), she felt lonelier than she had in a year. Normally, she and Armand would be sitting down to dinner right about then. As it was, she wasn't even hungry.
Locking herself in the bedroom, she grabbed a book from the shelf and purposefully set off to disappear into it.
* * * *
As Armand watched Julia head for their apartment the self-loathing built in his chest until it threatened to crush his lungs. He hated dismissing her, hated the beast building under his skin, hated what he needed to alleviate it.
It was better that he let her go. He'd already used her twice to calm his temper: once in the back of their car right after the incident with Slade in the hospital, and once in the gym. She wasn't his sex toy; she deserved more than that.
Until he figured his shit out, he needed to keep some distance between them. She might think she was capable of handling all of his demons, but he wasn't so sure. And he definitely wasn't ready to show them to her. He didn't think he could face her disgust.
"Why don't you go with her," Slade suggested quietly.
Armand turned slowly to him. "Perhaps you should mind your own business."
"Excuse me? You certainly weren't shy about putting your nose in my business a few days ago."
"I'm not sick and out of my mind."
"You might not be sick…"
Armand pressed his fingers to his temples and tried to quiet his angry retort. Sliding his fingers over his forehead, he folded them tightly together and forced a terse smile to his face. "Are you working tonight?" He glanced at both Slade and Kindle.
Kindle nodded and Slade said, "I got rent to pay."
Armand started to say something about Slade not needing to worry about bills, but realized he could barely stand to be in his skin, let alone this bar. It was better for everyone if the other men worked and he got the fuck out of there.
So he just nodded. "Remind patrons to cooperate with the police if they come by. We want Lohr to stay in jail."
"Of course."
He turned and headed for the front door.
"Armand." He paused at the sound of his name. "Don't shut her out," Slade said to his back.
Ignoring him, he yanked open the front door.
"If you were smart," Slade's voice trailed behind him, "you'd heed your own fucking advice."
If he didn't think he'd break his hand, he would have punched the brick courtyard wall.
Slade didn't know what he was talking about. Their situations were completely different. Kate had been a willing and eager savior to Slade's problems. Julia might be willing but unlike Kate, she had no idea what she was getting into. Armand had been trying to hide his dark side from her for the last year, afraid if he exposed it, she'd come to her senses and realize he wasn't who she thought after all.
He wasn't about to bring it all to the surface now.
There are other ways to deal with anger, he thought as he turned onto Bourbon Street.
* * * *
Ash was already at the studio when Angel stepped through the front door. He was sitting on the sofa reading a magazine when she walked in, and jumped to his feet when he saw her, tossing the magazine aside. Concern rimmed his eyes. She could barely look at him. "What's wrong," he asked. "You sounded off on the phone."
"We should go into my office," she said quietly as she walked past him. Sitting on the desk, she said, "Shut the door." Most likely, they wouldn't be interrupted, but this wasn't a conversation others should overhear.
"What is it?" he asked, taking a seat on the sofa across from her. Fear and trepidation were all over his face. His swollen eyes evidence Satin's death was still weighing on him. She hated to add more weight to his heavy heart, but she didn't have a choice.
"I went to the police station today."
"They don't think you had anything to do with Satin, do
they?"
"Indirectly perhaps. I think they're more concerned about finding Lohr's other victim."
"Other victim?" Ash raised his eyebrows.
"The police believe there is another. Lohr had photos of a woman in a questionable state of life." He shifted on the couch. "Is there another victim, Ash?"
"I don't know." But he wouldn't look at her.
"Ash, I saw you in one of the photos. Drinking from a woman the police believe is dead." His hands folded tightly together, he closed his eyes. "Ash," she repeated his name firmly and he winced. "Is she?"
If her eyes weren't glued to his face, she wouldn't have seen the nod.
"Oh my God." She didn't plan for the whispered wail that escaped her lips, but the truth sent a fresh wave of anguish through her.
"It was an accident," Ash said quickly. "For me anyway."
"What happened?"
"I'd just gotten to New Orleans and I was lost and looking for guidance. I hooked up with Lohr and that girl came to an event one night. We partied a lot and then Lohr started drinking from her. I joined him and that's when he started taking pictures. She was pretty out of it, but I didn't think anything of it. In the morning she was dead."
"Where is the body?" she wondered quietly.
"We dumped her in the river."
Of course, she thought sarcastically. Where else would one put a body.
"What did you tell the police?" he asked suddenly.
That he even asked the question disgusted her further. "Nothing. It isn't my place to tell them. It's yours."
"It was an accident," he repeated meekly. "I only drank from her the one time."
"Why didn't you stop him or help her?"
"I didn't realize it was that bad. Lohr assured me she'd be fine."
"You have to tell the police."
"Lohr's already been arrested. Killing Satin should put him away for the rest of his life. What good will it do for me to go to the police?"
"What about the girl's family? Shouldn't they learn what happened to her?" She rose from the desk and sat next to him on the couch. He glanced at her and then quickly looked away, shame joining the tears in his eyes. Even though the last thing she wanted to do was touch him, she took his hand. He'd been too good to her for too many years for her to turn her back on him now. "I know you don't want to hear this, but you could have prevented all of this. You were aware of Lohr's nature long ago. If you'd gone to the police then, Satin would still be alive. Melanie Young would still be alive. You have to accept the consequences of your neglect." She squeezed his hand. "I won't abandon you, Ash. I'll make sure you have a good lawyer. Crow is a lawyer," she added with a small smile.
He wiped at his eyes and looked at her. "You're right. You're always right."
Not even remotely, she thought.
The love pouring from him nauseated her. "Can it wait until tomorrow?" he wondered. "I swear I will go to the police station first thing. And I know you need my help tonight. In fact," he closed his free hand around hers. She hated that his touch made her skin crawl. She should be more tolerant, more understanding. After all, she knew accidents happened. Sometimes Sangs got carried away. But Ash wasn't a true Vampire. He had no real Cravings. It shouldn't make a difference, but it did. "You haven't fed today, have you?" he continued.
She shook her head before he could go any further. She could barely tolerate her hand in his, the last thing she wanted to ingest was his blood. At Luxure later, she'd have a shot. It would get her by until tomorrow. When the wounds weren't as raw, she could face her Craving with a clearer head. "I'm fine," she said.
"Hail…?"
She wasn't sure she wanted Hail's blood either.
The memory of Kevin McCoy's lips against hers suddenly popped into her mind. The taste of his kiss had been divine and she imagined how delicious his blood would be in her mouth.
The thought was ridiculous. She needed to convince him to take a Donor, not become one. After this afternoon, that seemed like an impossible task. She hoped exposure to the coven would soften his prejudice.
"Maybe." She rose, relieved when she was able to remove her hand from his. "Would you like to help me set up for tonight? I could definitely use your assistance."
His expression was pained. "Of course I'll help. I wouldn't have it any other way."
"I know." She hesitated a moment before leaning forward and kissing his cheek. "I admire you for doing the right thing. You are a good man. I just need to change my clothes and I'll be right down."
Turning away, she retrieved her purse before heading upstairs to her apartment. She didn't look back at him. She couldn't. If she did, he'd see her tears. As angry as she was, she didn't want to hurt him further.
Chapter Nine
There was so much crap stacked up in the living room, the front door didn't fully open. Boxes, bags of trash, clothing, toys, and God only knows what else were stacked chest high. The room was filled with so much stuff only a tiny portion of the floor was visible between the couch and TV. Paths had been created through the forest of junk. One leading to the kitchen and one leading toward the bedrooms.
The house was dark.
"Mr. Lutz?" Kevin called out, his shout muffled by the wall of crap before him.
A barking dog was the only answer.
"I'll check the back," Fitzpatrick said, shoving past him and heading for the kitchen. His tone was cool but not hateful. "You check the bedrooms."
Kevin watched his partner's back disappear behind a mountain of trash, swallowing against the guilt building in his throat. Turning, he weaved down the opposite path, stopping in the filthy bathroom first. Finding it empty, he went to the next door. It was Daniel Lutz's room. Animal feces clung to the carpet in charred black clumps. Toys were scattered on the bare mattress: dinosaurs, some army men, a fighter jet…
Thank God they got the kid out.
The TV was still on in the room at the end of the hall. There was no one in it. A dozen Colt 45 cans were strewn about the floor. It was hard to tell how long they'd been there, but the room smelled strongly of beer.
"Backyard's clear." He heard Fitz call out.
Holstering his gun and rejoining Fitz in the living room, he replied, "So are the bedrooms." Fitz didn't look him in the eye. "So nothing at all?" Kevin pressed.
"Nope. Just a dog on a too-short chain. I've already called animal control."
"Fuck." Once again, he strained to contain his rapidly rising guilt. "Frank Lutz has got family in Duluth. Think he's running there?"
"It's a place to start." Fitz walked past him and shoved through the screen door.
He followed him onto the front porch. "Sean, I —"
"Save it McCoy. Shit happens. Let's just find this asshole."
When Kevin came to full consciousness, it took him a minute to realize he'd fallen asleep in his car, right outside La Luxure. Pushing the St. Paul memories to the back of his brain, he rubbed his eyes vigorously in a desperate attempt to wipe the sleep from them. Without some chemical help, it was an impossible task.
Rummaging through the glove box, he pulled out a warm energy drink and popped the top, downing it in three swallows. Crumpling the can, he tossed it onto the passenger floorboard and pulled out his other addiction: disposable, waterless toothbrushes. With all the coffee he downed (and sometimes whiskey), he needed a way to keep his breath fresh. Gum and breath mints only went so far.
After the single-use toothbrush joined the discarded can, he glanced at his watch. Eleven-twenty p.m.
He was half tempted to head back into the vampire bar for a minute before heading to Angel's little party. But he hadn't gotten shit there earlier. Why would this time be any different?
The bartender, Kindle, had seemed normal enough. Like Slade, he was another man made of solid muscle. He'd recounted the events at The Forever Dark Vampire Ball with calm professionalism. Full names were hard to come by, but Kevin was sure it was honest. And since his story hadn't differed from anyone else's, in
cluding Angel's, he had little reason to doubt the big man.
He'd been able to track down half of Darus' list at La Luxure, but they gave him nothing. Absolutely nothing. Reserved and distrustful, they'd given him minimal details. What he did get was the same story over and over. Lohr had parties. Yes, there was blood. No one ever fessed up to using drugs, but they'd all heard rumors they were common. Rituals, candles … and consenting participants.
Lohr was also rarely in town, so coven members barely seemed to know him. They knew he believed himself immortal, or close to it, and many found him intriguing, if not a little frightening. One of the bar waitresses, Onyx, even admitted she wouldn't be surprised if she found out Lohr could only be killed with a wooden stake.
The only semi-productive conversation he'd had was with the weirdo Hail. But that had been more disturbing than anything. After introducing himself with the standard, "I'm investigating the murder of Tina Spalling and Melanie Young. I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about Lohr Varius," Hail had given him a mouthful.
"I can't believe he shot Satin. I wonder what she did?"
The La Luxure patrons seemed to know more than Angel or Darus had the night before. Word must've spread. "Why do you think she did anything?"
Hail gave him a condescending look. "Come on man, why else would Lohr shoot her unless she pissed him off somehow. He's not stupid."
No. Just crazy. "What about Melanie? Did she somehow piss Lohr off too?"
Hail took a swig of his drink. "Honestly, I'm not surprised things got carried away with that one. I spent the night before with her and she begged me to drink her blood." He shook his head. "She was kinda asking for it."
It'd taken a considerable amount of will to keep from knocking the bleached blond senseless. Not that it would be a difficult task; the man didn't seem to have much sense.
"Do you really think there's enough evidence to convict Lohr?" Hail continued. "I mean, Melanie willingly partied with him at Forever Dark and didn't she die of alcohol poisoning? It wasn't like he forced her. And everyone knows Kate was messing around with Slade in the blood room here and she went to Forever Dark under Lohr's invitation."