by C. J. Pinard
He thanked her for the dance but she grabbed his hand and said, “Come sit with me.”
He cautiously followed her to the lounge and made eye contact with the succubus.
Shit.
He plastered on a smile and turned to his dancing partner. “I’m Tristan, by the way,” he said.
She smiled. “Leah.”
He nodded. “This is Trisha and Quinn.” She pointed to the blonde and to the succubus.
Quinn was staring at him intently and he had to look away. He was already feeling a draw toward her and he knew if he stayed around her very much longer, he would be in big, big trouble.
“You were here last weekend.”
He looked at Quinn briefly and decided to just be a dick. “Yeah. So?”
She smiled, the harsh red of her lipstick glittering off the lights. “So, how come you left so suddenly? Was that your girlfriend you were with?”
“Something like that,” he replied without looking at her.
“Why don’t you come sit by me?” she purred, patting the sofa seat next to her.
Now he did look at her. Then he looked at the other two girls – vampires – who didn’t seem to be paying any attention to him anymore at all – and then back at Quinn.
She was still smiling, the strobe lights pulsing around her, flashing pink and green lights onto her pale face and shiny red hair.
Tristan did as she asked. He remembered from last week how good she had smelled. How just being this close to her made him want to put his hands all over her. His brain was screaming at him to get up and walk away, but his body wouldn’t obey.
He locked eyes with her as she leaned in to kiss him. As his eyes began to close and his lips drifted close to hers, he felt her lips brush his, then she pulled back and locked eyes with him once more.
Only now, her eyes weren’t blue, but jet-black with no pupils at all.
This should scare me, his brain told him. Yet, he stayed rooted to the spot until he felt a hand on the collar of his shirt, dragging him off the sofa until his body went flying into the crowd of people on the dance floor.
Chapter 14
∞∞∞
“Damn. Even his house looks like a castle,” Erick said as he and Ace pulled up to the large gates of the massive mansion set on the edge of the water. The gates, set on automatic sensors, had closed after Elias’s Porsche had gone through and barred them access.
A heavy fog from the lake began to drift into the yard around the large house, which was set in darkness and had no exterior lights. The black and brown painted house appeared to have three stories, with four tipped peaks at the very top. A large eight-foot wooden door with an oversized black iron knocker was set on top of six stone steps leading up to it. Bushes and trees obscured most of the first floor, but from what they could see, the windows were made of a thick, yellowish beveled glass on the first two floors, and clear glass at the top floors. The duo could see lights burning inside the mansion, but otherwise, it was quiet.
“We’ve been sitting here an hour, boss. What are you expecting to see?” Erick asked some time later.
Ace, who was over eighty years old and had learned the art of patience, said, “Not sure, but I’ll know when I see it.”
“I think we should go back to that nightclub and see if that succubus is still looking for victims. I wonder if Elias knows about her.” He pushed his chin in the direction of the creepy house.
Ace looked at Erick, his newest Immortal partner, and wanted to shake his head at his youth. Even though Ace still looked twenty-eight, he had the wisdom of an old man, and both dreaded and looked forward to mentoring young Dr. Erick Collins.
After Erick’s near-attack by the voodoo priestess shapeshifter, the BSI had stepped in and took care of business, fudging paperwork and cleaning up the legalities of a missing body from the morgue. Recruiting Lauren Clark into the BSI was a no-brainer decision of the SAC of the New Orleans division, but what to do with Dr. Collins was another decision. Sheila Morris had a secret friend in Ace Malone and gave him a call.
“A doctor?” Ace said, astounded. “Let me call you right back.”
He promptly dialed the sylph queen of the Southern United States, Patrice, and told her there was a doctor – even though he was a medical examiner, he was medically trained nonetheless – and the Zie Council jumped on it. Immortals, while quick healers, can still be killed and seriously hurt. Having a doctor onboard their secret organization would be invaluable, and Patrice knew this. “Absolutely,” she had tinkled over the phone to Ace. “Set it up. Call me back and I’ll meet you for his dosage.”
Ace called Sheila Morris back. “I’ll be by to pick him up in half an hour.”
Once Ace had arrived in the lobby of the FBI building, he smiled coolly at Erick. “Hi, Dr. Collins, I’m Ace Malone, come with me and we’ll get you debriefed.”
Erick, still in shock, looked up at Ace Malone, who stood well over six-feet tall, and nodded. “Are you part of the FBI, too?” he had asked.
Ace nodded. “Let’s go.”
“Was that lady a werewolf?” Erick asked as they got into the car.
Ace again nodded but said nothing.
Once they reached Ace’s small office on Canal Street, Erick was ushered inside and ordered to sit on the small sofa in the waiting area of the office. Ace ran a small marketing firm that overlooked the water and the Riverwalk and made a pretty good living with it.
Ace brought Erick a glass of water. After taking a sip, Erick asked, “What is this place?”
“This is my office,” he responded. “We’re waiting for one more person.”
Erick began to grow uneasy. Why wasn’t he being debriefed in some police station-type room with a two-way mirror and a sterile table and chairs?
Suddenly, a beautiful brunette woman wearing a long, blue dress literally appeared out of nowhere.
Erick jumped up and dropped his glass, shattering it on the flat indoor/outdoor carpeting that lined the office floor. “Holy shit!”
Ace went over to him. “Calm down, we’ll explain everything.”
“I’m sorry to have startled you, young man,” Patrice said in her soft, high-pitched voice.
“Where the hell did you come from?” Erick asked, sitting back on the couch at Ace’s direction and putting his head between his knees so he didn’t pass out – or throw up. Ace picked up the broken glass and put it in the trash. The water wasn’t absorbing into the cheap carpeting so he waved his hand in the air, and as Erick looked up, he watched as the water floated in mid-air at the direction of Ace’s hand and deposited itself into a nearby trashcan.
“Okay, someone clearly slipped something into my water…” Erick squeaked out.
Patrice looked at Ace accusingly. “Have you told him nothing?”
Ace shook his head. “Nope.”
Patrice sat next to Erick on the sofa but left plenty of room between them. Erick stared at her. She was absolutely beautiful. Tiny, about five feet tall, with big blue eyes that matched her dress and dark brown hair pulled up into loose bun at the back of her head. Her skin was slightly tanned and she had perfect lips. “Who are you?” he asked.
“My name is Patrice. I’m the sylph queen of the Southern United States. I represent the Council of the Zie.”
Erick raised both eyebrows. “Sylph?”
“Yes, dear,” she said, a small vial of what looked like blood appearing in her hand.”
Erick looked at it. “Did you just make that appear out of thin air?”
She smiled. “No, this dress has pockets.”
Erick swallowed hard and Ace watched on, amused.
“I’m going to give you this elixir we call ‘Enchantment’ to drink, and once you do, you’ll be part of an elite coven of Immortals who police the Fae,” she said as matter-of-factly and plainly as if she were telling him he had a dental appointment next Thursday.
“What?” He looked up. “Okay, Ace, right? Can you take me home, please?”
>
“Who do you live with?” Ace asked. He was still standing and his arms were folded over his dress shirt. His legs looked long in his black dress slacks.
Erick looked at him and took off his lab coat and used it to wipe sweat from his forehead and his palms. “Nobody. I live alone.”
“Family?” Ace asked.
Erick shook his head. “Parents are gone, I’m an only child. Not married,” he replied in his thick Louisiana drawl, looking at the both of them suspiciously.
Patrice looked at Ace and pulled the stopper off the vial. She produced a small sewing needle and pricked her index finger, dropping three drops of her blood into the vial.
Erick watched in fascination as the vial’s contents turned aqua colored and started swirling. She handed it to Erick. “Drink.”
He looked at the vial then back at Patrice and narrowed his eyes. “No.”
“You want to live forever?” Ace asked.
He looked up at him and chuckled without humor. “Who doesn’t?”
“Then drink,” he ordered.
“What if it kills me?”
Patrice gasped. “It will not!”
Ace shook his head. “See, you’ve offended our queen. She would never give you anything that would hurt you.”
For very long, Ace thought.
“And the conditions?” Erick asked, now somewhat intrigued.
“No more medical examiner job. You work for us now. You’ll live with me for a while… I’ll give you a job. Or you can work at the local hospital for a while to keep up your medical skills.”
“Ugh, I hate people. That’s why I work with dead ones.”
Ace laughed. “How about undead ones?”
“Huh?”
“Another part of your job, you’ll help us police the vampires and shapeshifters of Louisiana,” Ace replied, his arms still folded. He was clearly enjoying Erick’s naivety.
“Shapeshifters?”
Ace nodded. “The one that almost attacked you today in the morgue.”
“Oh. Well I know nothing of policing anything.”
“Oh, you will. Trust me, you won’t be afraid of much after drinking this.” Ace nodded at the vial.
“Sometime today, people,” Patrice said. “I have things to do.”
She shoved the vial into Erick’s hands and he stared at it. Shrugging, he drank its contents and handed the vial back to Patrice. “I don’t feel…” Then he screamed and fell off the couch, curling up in a ball and writhing around in pain, groaning.
“I hate this part,” Ace murmured.
“Well, good luck with that,” Patrice said, nodding toward Erick. She waved her hand and a shimmering portal appeared, and she stepped through it and disappeared.
Ace helped Erick back up to the couch.
“It feels like my insides are on fire,” Erick panted.
“I know, kid.”
“You’re right. Nothing going on here,” Ace said as he stared at Elias’s quiet mansion. “He’s already turned that girl into a bloodsucker. There’s nothing we can do until he brings her into public. Let’s head to Club Muse and see what’s shakin’.”
The duo paid the cover charge and walked in and looked around. It was already crowded and very loud. Ace had to resist the urge to put his fingers in his ears.
“How do these kids listen to this shit?” he asked, pointing at the speakers mounted on the ceiling.
Erick shrugged. “Can I get a drink, grandpa?”
“Funny. One, that’s it. I need you alert,” Ace said.
As they made their way to the bar, Ace looked over where they knew Quinn hung out and nudged Erick. “That black dude, he looks familiar.”
Erick’s eyes got big. “Holy crap, that’s Lauren’s BSI partner. Remember when we were in here last time and had to leave ‘cause I thought Lauren might spot me?”
Ace nodded and they watched in horror as Quinn suddenly locked eyes with Tristan. He had a glazed-over, almost drunk look on his face, and his hands were wandering shamelessly all over her body.
“Well don’t just stand there, doc. Go pull him off!” Ace barked.
They rushed over but Quinn’s large vampire bodyguard put his arm up as he saw Ace and Erick approach. “Go away.”
Erick pushed the vampire in the chest as hard as he could, which sent him flying. This was the best part of his Immortal job; Erick loved his special gift and grinned. The vampire got up and hissed, his teeth out, his eyes starting to turn black.
Ace tackled the bodyguard’s legs as he got up.
Erick grabbed Tristan by the back of the shirt and tossed him to the dance floor, where he went sliding on his back, clearing a path through a line of dancers, who all stopped and gasped at the fight.
The club’s security came running over as they saw the vampire bodyguard fighting with Ace, and Erick grabbed Tristan again, hoisting him to his feet.
Ace jumped up and grabbed them both. “Time to go.”
They found a backdoor emergency exit and left before security reached them.
∞∞∞
“Who the hell are you people?” Tristan asked as Erick put him up against the Camaro and held him there by his shirt.
“Get in the car or I will force you in,” Erick said.
“Do you know who I am? I work….”
“We know who you are,” Ace answered. “And we just saved your ass. So either get in the car so we can take you home, or get in your own car. But you are not going back into that club and that succubus.” He pointed at the building.
Tristan’s eyes grew wide and shooed Erick’s hands from his shirt. Erick let go. “What do you know about a succubus?”
“You were almost her dinner,” Erick answered flatly, backing up slightly, seeing that Tristan was being compliant.
“Who are you guys?”
Erick and Ace looked at each other. “Let’s just say we also police the vampires and shifters around here.”
“Oh, you BSI, too?”
“No,” Ace answered flatly.
Tristan straightened out his shirt where he’d been grabbed and then folded his arms. “So… you two part of some secret government organization or something?”
“No, that would be the BSI,” Erick said with a laugh.
“You look familiar,” Tristan said.
“I have one of those faces,” Erick responded.
“How did you fight off that bodyguard? Vampires are wicked strong,” Tristan said, eyeing Erick suspiciously.
“I’m also wicked strong,” Erick responded.
They sat staring at each other in silence for a few more minutes. “Well, you can go, but promise us you won’t go back into that club by yourself,” Ace said.
“So that’s it. You come and do this big rescue and don’t tell me anything?”
“That pretty much sums it up.”
Tristan huffed. “You going to tell me your names?”
“No, you probably won’t see us again,” Ace said.
The two got into the Camaro and drove off, leaving Tristan standing in the dark parking lot, scratching his bald head.
Chapter 15
∞∞∞
Special Agent Tristan Ellis didn’t sleep at all that night. He tossed and turned, horrific images of Quinn’s black eyes dancing behind his eyelids every time he closed them.
Each night was the same, so by the end of the work week, he congratulated himself for not calling in sick once, even when he really wanted to because of pure exhaustion. He was looking forward to a weekend of rest.
The dreams of the succubus had become increasingly disturbing. Some of them were very sexual, causing him to not be able to get back to sleep; others were just as disturbing, horror-filled images of him turning into a vampire and biting random strangers, drinking their blood and leaving their empty husks behind just so he could stay alive… or undead, as it would seem.
The most disturbing of the dreams, however, were the ones where Quinn seemed to be calling to him, her all
uring red lips and glittering blue eyes, beckoning him forward, red painted fingernails giving him a come hither sign and him floating forward, no control over his body. He wondered how long he had locked eyes with her, as he didn’t remember anything except going to sit next to her on the couch, and then suddenly being ripped from the ecstasy of her stare by the two strange men.
And who were those guys, anyway? What an odd encounter it had been. He wanted so badly to tell Lauren and SAC Morris about them, but feared he’d be castigated for going back to Club Muse by himself, so he’d kept silent. He cursed himself for not at least snatching part of the Camaro’s Louisiana plate number so he could run it through the new computer system the Justice Department had just received.
Tristan leaned back at his desk, four p.m. taking forever to make its way around the clock, and thought about who those guys could be. They seemed unnaturally strong, and they knew an awful lot about vampires and succubae. They were secretive, and the taller blonde one spoke as if he were a lot older than he looked.
“Vampires,” Tristan mumbled under his breath. “It was nighttime. I bet they’re a secret organization of vampires that keep their kind from being exposed to the public.”
While Tristan was wrong about the Immortals, he was surely going to be getting an up close and personal view of the world of vampires very soon.
∞∞∞
“You wanted to see me?” Lauren asked as she walked into SAC Morris’s office Monday morning.
Sheila Morris looked up from her paperwork and scratched a bright blue fingernail into the top of her braids. “Yes, I have an assignment for you and Special Agent Ellis.”
“Well, he’s not here.”
“What? It’s nine a.m., he better be here,” Sheila replied.
Lauren was confused. “I assumed he called in sick since he wasn’t here. I know he said he was having trouble sleeping last week. I thought maybe he took a sick day.”