by C. D. Hussey
"She was knocked unconscious and tied to a bed."
"Lots of girls like to get tied up."
"And the knocked unconscious part?"
"Sure she didn't slip and fall?"
This was incredulous. Hail was the first vampire Kevin had met that seemed to want to defend Lohr, but was also the only one with zero connection to the bastard. "Pretty sure."
Hail took another drink. "Well, I guess as long as the jurors are sure…"
Fuck, the asshole had a point. With no fingerprints on the gun besides Satin's, they'd have to rely on Kate's statement that she saw Lohr shoot Satin. And since Kate was admittedly out of it, it wasn't 100% credible. Even with the photos they'd pulled from Lohr's camera—the ones of Kate tied to the bed, fear in her light blue eyes—they still only had her word condemning Lohr. She'd gone willingly to his place, she'd accepted his invitation to Forever Dark, and according to her ex-boss at Gallery La Prochaine, she'd thrown herself all over the artist.
If the idiot sitting across from him had strung all this together, Lohr's lawyer no doubt would. Kevin needed to find the body of the other victim—or at least reasonable evidence she was dead—if he wanted to guarantee Lohr was going to spend the rest of his creepy little life behind bars.
Staring at his car's headliner, Kevin sighed, giving up any idea of going back into La Luxure. The evening had proven fruitless. Nothing. He was getting absolutely nothing of substance on Lohr.
There was more. He knew it. Tina Spalling and Melanie Young were not Lohr's first victims and someone knew more than they were letting on. He had a feeling she was a blonde with a great figure, perfect face and unbelievably flexible limbs.
* * * *
Hail stared unbelieving at his phone as the screen faded into darkness. The request had been clear, but it caught him off guard.
Lohr Varius wanted him to come to the hospital. Lohr. Varius. Presumably to Donate. It wasn't Lohr who'd made the request though. It was his lawyer. Hail was to meet the lawyer in the hospital parking lot at two a.m. for some scrubs and badge to get him into the hospital and access to Lohr's room.
He glanced around Luxure. The detective had just left but uneasiness still hung in the air. He was thankful he hadn't received the phone call before Detective McCoy questioned him. Even though he hadn't committed to helping Lohr yet, he was already feeling a little nervous and guilty. The cop surely would have picked up on it.
He didn't have to think about Lohr's request long. He was going to do it. It was risky and he wasn't 100% sure about the decision, but he'd been trying to find a way into Lohr's coven for over a year—ever since he came to New Orleans and found the Sang Community.
If sneaking into the hospital to feed Lohr didn't grant Hail some sort of favoritism in his eyes, nothing would.
It was only about eleven-thirty. He decided to pay his tab and get the hell out of there. He could kill some time at The Cell, but there was no way he was hanging around Luxure. Slade or someone would surely notice a case of the jitters had engulfed him and he sure as shit didn't need that kind of scrutiny.
Chapter Ten
Angel's studio was only a few blocks from La Luxure. Kevin ended up spending more time searching for a new parking space than it would have taken him to just walk over. He still hadn't gotten used to how much of a pain in the ass it was to drive in this city, especially the downtown/French Quarter area.
As it was, he had to walk a little over two blocks to reach the studio door. He passed a liquor store on the way and made a mental note of its location, pretty sure he'd need a drink after this hoopla.
A lanky, raven-haired man stood behind the sleek black desk in the lobby. The door was locked, so he knocked sharply against the glass. The man glanced at him, narrowed his eyes, and then mouthed, "We're closed."
He pressed his badge against the glass and mouthed back, "No, you're not."
Lanky's eyes got a little wide and what little color he had in his face drained away. After twisting the deadbolt he pulled open the door. "Can I help you, Officer?"
"I'm here to see Angel," Kevin replied, pushing past him and into the lobby.
The air smelled of jasmine and lavender. Black and white images of people in various yoga poses and several photos of Angel dangling from the silk fabric she'd performed on the other night hung neatly on brick colored walls. A plush couch and matching chair sat opposite the reception desk, yoga, fitness, and natural healing magazines spread on the adjacent end tables.
"Where is she?" he asked, turning to Lanky.
The man's eyes darted to a closed door with a frosted glass centerpiece.
"You can't go in there," he said as Kevin headed for the door.
"Watch me."
A dozen candles in wall-mounted, wrought iron holders cast warm light over bodies scattered like corpses on the floor. Incense burned on a small table shoved against one deep red wall and soft music floated with the smoke in the air. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, Angel immediately held a finger up to her lips when he stepped into the room. He stopped where he was.
"As we cross the midnight hour and enter All Hallow's Eve in our final Savasana," she said. "I want you to take a moment to reflect upon the previous year, the energy you have gathered, and the energy you have given."
Her voice was a soothing silk melody and what could only be described as calm joined the smoke and music drifting through the air. In spite of all the people lying on the floor, the room was eerily still. He felt his muscles relax as he leaned against the door, even as he tried to fight it.
She caught his eye and smiled, her beautiful face glowing in the candlelight. It was hard to imagine her in cahoots with a creep like Lohr. But he knew he had to push past the exterior and not forget she also considered herself a vampire.
"Slowly bring your awareness back your body," she continued. The corpses started to stir. Her eyes were on him again and her expression was a mixture of concern and sadness. He cocked his head and raised his eyebrows in question. Her answer was a small smile and tiny shake of her head.
She turned her attention back to her class, or whatever it was. "As you become ready," she sang. "As your body becomes ready, gently ease to one side." She paused again. Normally, all these deliberate pauses would drive him nuts, but there was something so relaxing about this room, with its candlelight and the incense and Angel's sweet purr. "And when you are ready, when your body deems you are ready, join me at the top of your mat, hands at heart center."
Her legs folded like a pretzel, palms pressed together and centered between her pert breasts, she closed her eyes. "Just as we use our breath to calm our minds and focus our thoughts," she inhaled deeply and the room inhaled with her, "let our exhale carry any and all negative thoughts and negative energy with it." The room exhaled in unison with her. His skin twitched and he scratched at his arms. "As we prepare to welcome the longer nights, let us remember to never forget, or take for granted, the current of life that binds us all as we journey to embrace our true nature on the quest for spiritual immortality." Another deep breath. "With your next exhale, I welcome you to share positive energy with each other."
As the collective exhale escaped into the room, the air seemed to grow thick with what felt like static. It crinkled with electricity. He felt the fine hairs on the back of his neck come to attention. When the collective inhale came in again, the electricity fell like glitter to the floor. It wasn't something he saw. It was something he felt.
Liquor store. Right down the street. Check.
"And I thank each and every one of you for taking this time to share your practice and your energy with me," she continued. "Namaste."
"Namaste," was the echoing response.
After spending a few moments bowing, the former corpses slowly began to roll up their mats, gathered up whatever blocks and straps and bottles of water they possessed, and made their way from the room. The conversation stayed to a minimum and the air in the room retained its quiet calm.
; As the corpses passed him in the doorway, they gave him quick, discerning glances. Kevin didn't think he'd ever seen so much black in one room. Black hair, black eyeliner, black yoga clothes… Angel's blond hair was like a spotlight in a midnight sky.
After the last of the undead had filed from the room, he joined her as she shut off the music. She glanced at him in question. "Welcome, Detective. You look confused."
"It's like if Dracula hosted a yoga class," he murmured, his eyes lingering on the now closed door.
A giggle exploded from her mouth. She covered it with her hand, but another giggle followed, escaping through the sides of her palm in an explosive rush. She clamped her other hand over the first.
"I didn't realize it was that funny," he said, but couldn't help smiling. He liked seeing her happy.
She laughed again, and then burying her face in her hands, shook her head. "It isn't," she admitted right before another giggle escaped. A few more seemingly uncontrollable giggles pushed past her hands before she dropped her hands. "I'm sorry," she apologized, looking him directly in the eye, her expression suddenly serious. He wasn't sure why she was apologizing for finding his statement amusing. He'd love to make her laugh like that again. "You're the first person to ever mention it, but it's very true."
His gaze swept the room. Vampire yoga was not what he was expecting when he came here. "Is this really your coven?"
"No. This is the midnight Vinyasa class." She flashed a teasing smile at him. "But many, if not all of the participants, are coven members." She began to walk around the room, blowing out the candles as she went. "This isn't the gathering I invited you to, by the way." She paused at a candle, glancing his direction before pursing her lips and blowing, the flame flickering and going out in a puff of smoke.
There was something about the innocent act that felt completely erotic. Maybe it was the coy way she spied him from the corner of her eyes as she blew out the candle, like her lips would rather be somewhere else…
He cleared his throat, shifting from one foot to another.
"Is something wrong?"
Busted. "Not at all." Everything was wrong.
"Can you get the lights?"
He turned and flipped the switch next to the door just as she extinguished the last candle. He glanced around the room. He'd never done any yoga, but apart from the gothic candleholders and red walls, there was nothing spectacular about the studio. Mirrors lined one wall, a row of painted black cubbies another. The hardwood floors gleamed in the glare from overhead lights, and decorative throw pillows were scattered throughout the room. The only thing extraordinary was the woman walking toward him.
Stopping a mere thirty-six inches from him, she took a drink from a metal water bottle with a large lotus flower etched on the front. He hadn't realized how tiny she was. Barefoot, she couldn't be more than five-foot-three and he doubted she weighed much more than a buck-ten. Once again, she appeared so … fragile.
Licking water droplets from her lips, she paused with her lower lip between her bright white teeth and studied him carefully. There wasn't the thick scent of sex and seduction clouding the air as there had been during their previous encounter, but he was still hit by a wall of desire, especially as her gaze lingered on his mouth.
Regret flashed across her pretty face and he wondered if it had anything to do with the passionate kiss they'd shared in the police station. The thought was disappointing even though he knew he should regret it.
She met his gaze. "What is it you hope to find here, Detective?"
The question caught him off guard. Or maybe it was just the sadness in her beautiful brown eyes. "Um." He glanced briefly toward his feet. "Understanding. I'm trying to wrap my brain around this vampire thing you have going on." And you, he added silently. He realized he wanted to understand her, really understand her. "For the case against Lohr Varius," he added quickly. But it had little to do with the case.
"If I'm somehow a suspect…"
"No, I…" Was she a suspect?
He didn't have an answer prepared and just stood there, staring at her with his mouth agape. Words were trapped somewhere at the back of his throat. He sure as hell couldn't find them.
Their gazes locked for a long moment, and he found himself wishing he could ignore the investigation, ignore the vampire bullshit, and just enjoy her. Without suspicion, without distrust, without judgment.
Her fingers wrapped tightly around the water bottle, she smiled sadly. "I need to change my clothes," she told him. "It might be best if you wait in the lobby so I can introduce you to the group."
And suddenly the detective side of him returned. Was she hiding something?
"You are welcome to go in, of course," she said, interrupting his thoughts. "But my peers do not care for outsiders, as you have probably learned by now. You will be better received if you have my blessing."
Fuck, he didn't know what to think and he sure as hell didn't know how to respond, so he just nodded. She led him from the room, clicking off the lights as she closed the door behind them. Gesturing toward the black, micro-suede sofa, she said, "Have a seat. I'll only be a minute," and then disappeared through a door behind the sleek reception desk.
He ran his hand over his face and through his hair. "Jesus," he muttered. What the hell was going on with him? He had no idea what he was doing anymore and he sure as hell didn't know what he was investigating. Lohr was guilty, that much was clear. No one in the vampire community seemed to want to defend him, but they also claimed ignorance, which he knew was a crock. Still, without an additional victim and solid alibis concerning the actual victims, there was absolutely nothing for him to investigate.
Maybe he was looking in the wrong places. Maybe he was too fixated on Angel, her relationship with Lohr, and that she was the one who'd delivered Melanie and Kate to him. Maybe Kevin was just fixated on Angel.
Fixated was an understatement. He was obsessed.
She stepped into the lobby, once again interrupting his thoughts. Rising slowly to his feet, he knew he was staring, but couldn't peel his eyes away from her. Her black sleeveless dress looked like liquid metal as it clung to every delicious curve of her trim body, the fishtail skirt hugging her knees and giving her an extreme hourglass figure. The lacing at the front of the keyhole opening did little to hide her cleavage, and the platinum waves falling loosely over her shoulders only seemed to accentuate it.
Back in glossy platform heels, she now at least came up to his chin. Fierce replaced fragile. With her deep red lipstick, heavy black eye makeup, and sharp fangs, she looked like an animal ready to feast on him.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
Not remotely.
He nodded.
"Please keep an open mind," she tossed over her shoulder as she led him down a hallway. At this point, his mind was only focused on one thing. Clamping his eyes shut, he forced blood to return to his brain.
He nearly ran into her when she stopped abruptly at a closed door. "Remember, sometimes things are as simple as they appear, and different doesn't mean wrong." She pushed open the door.
The room was about the same size as the yoga studio and similar in many ways: from the mirrors covering the wall, to the gleaming wooden floors, to the lack of dust. Instead of ceiling fans, pairs of the long silky fabric she'd performed on the other night hung from climbing rigging bolted to the exposed second story floor joists. They were draped through the room like shimmering red streamers. The music playing was Goth rock instead of something he expected to hear in a Buddhist temple, and the room was illuminated by Christmas lights lining the perimeter instead of candlelight. A full bar was set up in the corner, complete with an Absinthe fountain. Judging from the drinks clutched in pale hands, Absinthe and red wine were the favorites.
All eyes focused on the pair as they stepped through the door. Red eyes, pale blue eyes, golden eyes … and normal colored ones. He scanned the room, recognizing many of the faces he'd seen in the yoga studio and a few from La Luxure. E
veryone had changed from workout clothes to outfits similar to the one Angel wore.
The skinny man who'd let him into the building looked away the moment Kevin caught his eye. It was suspicious and he made a mental note to look into it.
"Thank you all for beginning your Halloween celebration with me," she said and someone turned down the music. "I'd like to introduce you all to Detective Kevin McCoy." She gestured toward him and the multi-colored eyes fell on him in unison. He had never been a self-conscious man, but being blasted by so much distrust and scrutiny all at once made him a little uneasy. "I am assisting him with an investigation and I invited him here with hopes he will gain a better understanding of our community. But to be honest," she peered at him from the corners of her eye, "I brought him here because he has a special connection to us I'm hoping to awaken." She gave the group a knowing smile.
The eyes changed from trepidation to understanding, but he wasn't any more comfortable with their sudden acceptance than he had been with their overt distrust. By "special connection" he could only assume she meant human vampire. Not only was that nonsense going to stop tonight, he was going to find out why she insisted on pursuing it. Later.
"Do you want something to drink?" she wondered, turning to him. The moment her focus shifted from the group to him, the volume of the music went back up and the vampires turned their attention away from him. It was beyond strange.
"Yes. Do you have whiskey?"
"Of course." She led him to the bar, poured him a double shot of Jameson and made herself a martini. "Would you like some ice?"
"I'm good." She handed him the tumbler and he resisted the urge to shoot the liquor.
Glancing around the room, he was startled by how mundane the scene really was. Costumes and makeup aside, there was nothing spectacular about the event.