Slayer's Moon (A Sable Hart Vampire Slayer Novel Book 4)

by Megan Hawke

  Turning off at Harry Hines, just shy of Interstate 35 East, I headed south. Harry Hines was one of Dallas' most notorious areas. The street was lined with strip malls and strip clubs, pockets of streetwalkers, drug pushers, and other sex industry businesses, and the people that supported and preyed upon them.

  More than a few vampire owned and operated businesses lined that street. I bought all my vehicles from one of three new and used car dealerships, shopped for kinky clothes in the boutiques, and found my current realtor at a Harry Hines address. I should build a house there.

  Crazy Girls was a rather seedy strip club on Harry Hines. Bone Daddy liked to work his girls in front of the strip clubs, to catch the johns at their horniest. Business was good. He drove a new Mercedes Benz, dressed in designer suits, and bought luxury homes right and left.

  The parking lot was three-quarters full when I arrived. I spotted Bone Daddy right off. At six foot six, he wasn’t hard to find. Plus, with long blonde hair, a goatee, and a spectacularly ripped body, he looked like Jesus on steroids.

  Boney was leaning against his car, under a light post. Being winter, he didn't have to worry about bugs. The bank signs all said it was thirty-five degrees. I had to take their word for it. Vampires aren’t affected by temperature, so I’m comfortable no matter what the temperature.

  Boney usually parked near the road, but not all alone. He didn’t want to stand out too much. That night he was parked almost dead center of all the other cars. Some of his girls were arrayed around him, looking at him adoringly and shivering from the cold. They all wore coats, but little else underneath.

  I knew all of Boney’s girls. One of them was my number one minion. Desiree was a thirty-one year old African American, with straightened, red-dyed hair and a body to die for. She was Boney’s most eager worker, and an insatiable vampire groupie, called a thrall.

  Parking my car, I put on my black leather trail duster. Like I said, the cold doesn’t affect me, but when I ran around without a coat it drew unwanted attention. Besides, the trail duster looked cool. Boney and his girls couldn’t take their eyes off me as I approached. Did I mention they were all minions? Minions were anyone, alive or undead, who served a sire in a vampire family.

  Walking through that strip club parking lot was a true test of vampiric resolve. The air was filled with mortal and vampire need and desire. The pheromones were as thick as I'd ever experienced. How did Boney work in such an environment? After an hour in that cauldron of carnal desire I'd be chasing every man that walked by, offering myself up on a silver platter.

  The way Boney and his girls were looking at me I suspected they understood the effect the pheromones had on me. Or they were hoping. Damned predators.

  Vampires see a little differently than mortals. We can see "auras" around all living creatures. Those auras were like dim halos, some brighter and/or larger than others. Strong, aggressive, forceful people had bigger, brighter auras. Auras also pulsed with a person’s heartbeat, as well as brightened or dimmed according to their moods and such. It was one of the reasons few mortals could lie to vampires.

  As I approached, I instinctively studied everyone’s aura. Two of the girls were extremely agitated to see me, and the rest were highly aroused. I never hired any of Boney’s girls, but most of them had high hopes. Boney, though, was unreadable. Vampire auras were very different, grayer and did not pulse. Also, vampire auras were huge in comparison to mortals. I couldn’t read vampires like I read mortals, but there was no disguising Boney’s pleasure and arousal at seeing me.

  "Hey, lover, miss me?" I asked.

  "Like the flowers miss the sun at night," he said.

  "Wow," I said. "You really are slathering it on thick tonight. Let me guess. . . you haven’t been laid in two years?"

  "Well, it has been over an hour," he said.

  "Oh, was that me?" Desiree said, smiling wickedly. "If I’d known you wanted him, I wouldn’t have worn him out so much."

  "No problem. I’m known for my ability to inspire men to greatness," I said.

  "Really?" a mortal man said. There were three in his group, walking slowly by as they checked out all the women. All three wore wedding bands. He looked me up and down, oozing desire from every pore. It was enough to send a thrill up my spine. "I feel in the need of some inspiration. How much for a date?"

  The hookers and Boney were all fabulously amused. They knew my thoughts on prostitution. I'll give it away free, and quite freely, but the mere thought of having sex for money was revolting. And to be honest, I just didn't understand the appeal. Why did men want to pay women for sex?

  I slanted a withering look his way. The idiot wasn't paying attention. He was gawking at my boobs. I ground my teeth, forcing a smile on my face, as I turned to face him. Normally, all that need and desire in the air would be enough to drown in, and I'd be lost in it. But my wannabe john delivered unto me the cure for vampire lust, and that is anger.

  "Boy, if you know what's good for you, you and your little friends will high-tail it out of here," Boney said.

  "Who you calling boy, pimp?" he said, suddenly all insulted. "You ain't my daddy."

  "I would've been your daddy, but the dog beat me under the fence," Boney said.

  Now who could be angry after a retort like that? Not me. Wannabe john was another story. He and his horny drunk friends just stared open mouthed at Boney a long moment.

  I realized Boney was no longer amused, and angry vamps were doubly dangerous. Something had to be done before blood flowed.

  "I'm just here for lunch," I said, exposing my fangs to the three men. Talk about shocked. They sobered up pronto, eyes like saucers. Their auras began to throb violently. "I was fixin’ to dine one of these ladies of the evening, but you three will do nicely."

  "Son of a bitch!"

  All three men backed away from me. First sign of intelligence from them so far. I mean, I really was hungry. I normally drink cow blood three times a night, but human blood was head and shoulders above other animal blood in so many ways. And I haven't had actual human blood since Christmas Eve.

  "Come to Momma, boys," I said. They turned and ran. Right out of the parking lot. "I wonder how long it'll be before they realize they forgot their cars?"

  "Were you serious about wanting blood?" Desiree said. A lot of interested eyes locked on me. The hookers' auras showed their excitement and arousal. "I volunteer!"

  "Of course you do."

  Desiree played too dangerously in my book. She gave up her throat way too easily and frequently. Since she was my minion, I tried to keep track when she gave up blood and keep her self-destructive tendencies in check. She didn't make it easy.

  "I haven't given blood in over two weeks," Desiree said. "I can give now."

  Boney was my primary how-to-be-a-vampire teacher, and he taught restraint in bloodletting. No thrall should be allowed to give more than two pints of blood every two weeks, and he strongly urged a single pint every two weeks. The body needed time to replenish. Even then thralls generally were on special diets to avoid iron deficiencies.

  "Later," I said. Desiree's eyes closed and her full lips parted as she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. No one loved the feel of fangs penetrating her neck like Desiree. I'm not even sure if she cared if I actually suck out blood or not. "I'll bite you back at home, for dinner."

  "Promise?"

  "I promise," I said.

  "Great, it's a date," Boney said as he started walking over to me. He looked around, and I noticed that there were men loitering. They were all highly aroused, and kept looking at all those beautiful young women. "But it's time you girls got back to work."

  The hookers looked around, then smiles spread across their overly painted faces. They slowly filtered into the parking lot, spreading out in all directions. I watched in morbid amazement as every one of those girls found a man, and sealed the deal.

  "That is so wrong," I said, looking up into Boney's face.

  I measured a respec
table five foot ten, but even in four and a half inch stiletto boots I had to look up. He always made me feel small, and I kinda liked it.

  "They are good, aren't they?" Boney said.

  Boney pressed up against me. I placed my hands on his chest, to keep him at bay. Just a little. He leaned down, and I rose up on my tiptoes, and we kissed. Deeply. A lingering kiss, that quickly grew impassioned.

  With Boney, and most vampires, it was never just a hug or a peck on the cheek. Vampires were, one and all, lusty creatures with little restraint. Some said it was part of our curse, while others said it was the silver lining.

  We sucked face for at least five minutes, until I realized he was fondling my breasts. Even then I didn't stop kissing him. I wanted to, sort of, but kept kissing.

  My halter top was black latex, thin and displayed my boobs spectacularly. One strap encircled my back and another went up and around my neck. There were buckles on each strap, and between the two cups. It was fetish wear, after all. Sexy and easily removed.

  Boney tried to remove it.

  "You are so bad, and predictable," I groaned when he released my lips to kiss his way down my neck. I looked around, spotting five men in the parking lot watching us. We were under a light, after all. Kinda hard to miss us. I was about to complain, and he licked my neck right above the jugular vein. "Oh. . . jeeze. No."

  I pushed him away, and pulled the trail duster back over my shoulders. Leveling narrowed eyes on the voyeurs, I sent them hurrying away.

  Boney reached for me again. If nothing else he was persistent.

  "Stop it," I said. He didn't stop, forcing me to step back out of his reach. "I'll bite you in a bad way, pig."

  "Pig?"

  "Yeah, you're trying to pork me in a parking lot. Pig," I said. I grabbed the strap of my top. "This stuff comes off a lot easier than it goes back on."

  "Would you like to go somewhere more private?"

  Yes. Vampire. Duh. There was nothing I'd love more than to be taken care of properly.

  "I can't. I'm busy," I said. Of course, my mind was immediately trying to find excuses why I should go with him. Boney might be a stinking pimp, but he was the best lover ever. He brought it all to bed — passion, talent and many decades of experience in pleasing women. That bastard made my body sing in bed. Did I mention he was hung to make a horse do a double take? "I have a job."

  "You have a real job? Why?" he said. "Did you lose all of your money again?" He brightened up. "Did you get that job at Hooters you always talk about?"

  I laughed. "No. I didn't lose all my money again," I said. "It's not that kind of job. I've taken on the task of finding a childhood friend that was kidnapped by vampires earlier this evening. I'm not being paid."

  "Kidnapped? Why would vampires kidnap someone?"

  "To drink his blood," I said. I managed to avoid the implied ‘duh.’ "But this doesn't appear to be the case here. It seems they are trying to recruit him."

  Boney looked at me like I was crazy. "Recruit?"

  I shrugged. It all seemed bizarre to me, too. So I gave him a rundown of what I knew. He listened politely, as he always did, and just frowned.

  "Are you sure this Charlotte is not delusional?" he said.

  "I don't think so, but she is terribly traumatized," I said. "I'm thinking the vamps want something else. What, I don't know."

  "What does he do?" Boney said. "Anything that would interest vampires?"

  "No, he's pretty white bread and bland," I said. "I mean, he's an accountant."

  "Is he working for a vampire owned business?"

  "I don't think so," I said. That hadn't occurred to me. "He works for a private accounting firm, called Lubner, Schram, Bricker, and Kanady Accounting."

  Boney stiffened. I was instantly alert.

  "What?"

  "Are you sure he works for Lubner, Schram, Bricker, and Kanady?" he said.

  "Yes."

  "Interesting," he said. "That firm has quite a few major players in the vamp community as clients. Including at least four council members that I know about."

  "Antoinette?" I asked. He nodded. Antoinette LaRue was Boney's mistress, and she kept him on a tight leash most of the time. Since she Changed him into a vampire the beautiful French vampire had near absolute control over him. She was the one that forced the former Baptist preacher into becoming a pimp. "Who else?"

  "Vanessa Mancera. Jeff Howell. Tara Voorhies," Boney said. "I think the Trudeau Family uses them, too."

  Trudeau Family? It was scary enough to think of Timmy caught up in vampire council politics, but I didn't even want to contemplate him being involved with the vampire mafia. Was Timmy that foolish? Or was it possible to work on a vampire’s account and not know what your client was? Vampires were masters of hiding in plain view.

  "Anyone else?" I said.

  "Me," Boney said. "My CPA works for them, too."

  "Do you know Timmy Saxon?"

  "No. Never heard of him," he said. "But there are a lot of people up there."

  "Could he have learned anything that might make a vampire want to hurt or recruit him?"

  "Maybe. I know all of Antoinette’s less than legal businesses are handled by them," Boney said. "They are the preferred firm for all the vampire and werewolf movers and shakers in Dallas. They have a reputation of discretion." He frowned a long moment. "It’s possible he is working on an account that someone else wants to know about."

  That got my attention. That played right into my belief the vamps didn’t want to Change Timmy, but wanted something else from him. It was encouraging, too. That would also mean they weren’t Changing him, so he could be recovered safely.

  Above all else, it made sense considering vampires were involved. Many vampires preyed upon other vampires. More specifically, they robbed other vampires of their hard-earned money. The undead kept their money in off-shore accounts, accessed by bank cards, debit cards, and credit cards. And since vampires can't exactly go to the police when robbed, it is as perfect a crime as you can find.

  Like many vampire slayers I also "confiscate" the credit and bank cards of vampires I stake. Sounds a bit unsavory, but it’s a living. A few months ago I accumulated a substantial nest-egg. Shortly after that the Giorgi Sisters waylaid me and took it all. The Giorgi Girls had since been captured and cleaned out by Antoinette, so there was no recovering my lost fortune.

  I was starting over, wiser and far less trusting.

  My cell rang. It was Gabe. Gabriel Preston was one of Dallas’ most successful vampire slayers, and a pretty good friend of mine. Strangely, our friendship seemed to blossom after I died and was reanimated. Of course the wild vampire sex helped. Gabe was a certifiable pig like that, but I liked him.

  "Hello, Gabe, what can I do to you?" I said, grinning. Bet he had all kinds of naughty ideas.

  "Don’t change the subject," he said. I laughed. "I have a really bad vamp in serious need of a stake through his heart, but I just can’t nail him down. I need your help."

  "Wow. That’s a first," I said. Gabe never asked for help. He didn’t like to share the ill-gotten gains.

  "Fifty-fifty," I said.

  "What? I did all the leg work," he said. "Seventy-thirty."

  "Only if I get the seventy," I said, and grinned at his outraged grunt. "You demand an equal share when you help someone, so pony up or find someone else to help."

  Gabe put his hand over the phone, but I could still hear him cursing a blue streak. The fact he asked meant it was a tough job, and the fact he hadn’t rejected my offer meant he was backed into a corner. I was in. A girl could always use a few extra dollars in her account. For shopping binges.

  "Fine," Gabe said. Such disgust in his voice. He was one greedy bastard. Of course, he spent all his hard won money on high-powered vampire hurting weaponry, so he wasn’t all bad. "Come on over and I’ll show you what I got."

  "Does he have a name?"

  "Benjamin Rothschild," he said.

  My blood ran cold. Ben Rot
hschild was one evil vamp. He’d been terrorizing Fort Worth for a month.

  "You’re working Fort Worth now? The Van Viegens aren’t going to be happy about you poaching on their territory," I said.

  The vampire staking family Van Viegen was scary. They despised vampires with a passion second to none. They would stake me in a heartbeat, even though I also hunt vampires.

  "Naw, they don’t have anything to complain about," Gabe said. "Benny boy moved to Dallas about a week ago. I learned of it from Victor Van Viegen. He called to warn me."

  That was good. The Van Viegen Family was packed with zealots. There were four siblings, all vampire slayers of the most ruthless color. I didn’t care to get onto their radar.

  Boney was frowning at me. His vampiric hearing was as keen as mine, so he heard every word. I think he expected me to go away with him for some hot vampire coffin sex. I wasn’t adverse to the idea. It was after midnight, and I had no leads. There was nothing left for me to check.

  Ben Rothschild was a very old vampire, by Texas standards, at one hundred eight-seven. Since going rogue around Thanksgiving he’d killed some fifteen people. That was a lot, even for a rogue vampire. The idea of him in my city chapped my hide. I would love to stake him.

  "Okay, Gabe. I’m on my way over," I said. "I’ll be there in about twenty."

  "Great," Gabe said. "See you then, Sabe."

  "Guess that leaves me high and dry," Boney said as I ended the call.

  "Sorry," I said. "I can’t allow a rogue to continue his rampage."

  He wagged his eyes at me. "But do you have to start now?"

  "Afraid so, Boney," I said. "I might be at a dead end looking for Timmy until I can go in tomorrow evening and talk to his boss, but I still have plenty of dark left to hunt down and stake a killer."

  "Be careful," Boney said. He looked so grim.

  "Don’t worry. I have Ben Rothschild’s number," I said, turning to leave.

  "Ben’s not the vampire you need to worry about," Boney said. I slanted a curious look over my shoulder. He couldn’t look right at me anymore. "Antoinette is not happy about you defying her."