I nodded and handed the paper to Slade. “Thanks, Larry. I owe you one.”
Larry shifted on his seat and leaned in again. “Let me know if you change your mind about making a movie. I’d love to get you on my casting couch, if you know what I mean.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Slade’s mouth twitch. “No thanks.”
“Aw, c’mon. It’ll be fun.” He wiggled his bushy eyebrows suggestively.
“I said no.” Not just no, I thought. Hell no.
“Let me give you my card anyway.” He pulled a greasy rectangle of paper from a stack at his elbow. “When you change your mind, call me. There’s vamps out there’d pay good money to see a prime piece like you sink your fangs into a nice piece of meat.”
Slade laughed out loud this time. I turned to him with an eyebrow raised. Slade paused and glanced warily at Larry. The porn king wiggled his eyebrows again, pointing a bony finger at Slade. “Don’t laugh, good lookin’. I was talking to you.”
One minute Slade stood next to me with his mouth agape and his cheeks red. The next, the bell over the door rang and I got a nice view of Slade’s ass before it disappeared.
* * *
“I think we should hit Zeke’s address tomorrow. I don’t want to chance getting caught there if shit goes down.” If the joke Larry had at Slade’s expense was still bothering him, Slade didn’t show it. But the clenched jaw hinted I should let it go. Instead, I glanced at the dashboard clock.
“Makes sense.” Only about two hours until sunrise. Not a big deal for me. The only benefit of being mixed-blood I’d ever experienced was my ability to be in the sun. Granted, it weakened me, but I didn’t have to dive for shelter like every other vamp on the planet. “You hungry?”
Slade smiled for the first time since I met him. “Liquid or solid?”
“Solid. I fed earlier.”
He smiled and started the car. “I know just the place.”
Slade insisted we go to the window to order, instead of using the drive-thru. Since I’d never been to In-N-Out Burger before, he insisted on ordering me something called a “Double-Double” with “large fries, well done”. I wasn’t sure exactly what any of that meant, but the heavenly aroma of grilled beef made my carnivore’s heart go pitter-patter.
The chick in the orange apron handed over a box overflowing with burgers and cardboard boats filled with golden fries. Slade carried the feast to a small sitting area next to the parking lot.
He didn’t wait for me to sit before digging into his burger. I smiled at the utterly satisfied sounds escaping between his bites. For someone who’d come across so cold all night, Slade seemed to have a passion for food. He finally slowed down enough to notice I hadn’t tried mine. He pointed at the box with his own burger. “Dig in,” he said over a mouthful.
I wouldn’t quite call the experience orgasmic, but it was a near thing. “Godsdamn!” I said after I’d inhaled half the thing.
“Right?” Slade said, shoving two fries into his mouth.
We spent a few minutes munching companionably, watching cars pass by on Foothill Boulevard. Finally, I washed down my last bite with a gulp of cold soda. I was feeling good. Not just because of the burgers, either. What had started out as a disaster of a first mission – what with Slade being an ass and all – had turned into a pretty decent night.
“Slade?” I asked.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think we should review what we know so far?”
He grimaced, as if I’d just brought up a taboo subject. “Not much to review.”
“But we have Zeke’s personnel file. Maybe we should go through it for clues. You know, proof he’s the one whose threatening the Dominae.”
Slade raised an eyebrow. “Clues? Sabina, we’re not detectives.” He leaned in, whispering so the people at other tables wouldn’t overhear. “We’re assassins. It’s not up to us to prove or deny Zeke’s guilt. It’s up to us to end him. Period.”
“But the guy on the video was wearing a mask. How can we be sure it’s this Zeke guy? After all, the perp could have opened the bank account under Zeke’s name to throw us off his trail.”
Slade cocked his head. “You’ve been watching too much Magnum P.I.”
My face went hot at his dismissive tone. Ignoring him, I opened the file. Zeke’s job application was on top. I scanned the page, looking for something. What, I had no idea. I scanned past the work history since we already knew his last place of employment. Finally, my eyes landed on his chicken-scratch answers to a series of questions.
I snorted. “Listen to this. ‘Why do you want to work at T&A Video?’” I looked up to make sure Slade was paying attention. He tilted his head, a facsimile of real interest. “Zeke said, ‘’Cause I like to watch people fucking.’”
Slade spewed a mouthful of soda across the table. “At least he’s honest,” he said once he’d stopped choking.
I smiled and continued, “‘Please discuss your previous experience in the adult film industry.’ Zeke put: ‘Does whacking off to it three times a day count?’”
We both laughed so loud that the other customers started sending curious looks our way. Finally, I recovered enough to say, “The funniest part is that these answers got him the job.”
Slade smiled and took another sip of his drink. A flash of fang peeked out when he pulled the straw away. “You surprised me tonight,” he said, suddenly more serious.
“I know.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’m sorry if I was an asshole earlier. I just had a bad experience with the last rookie the Dominae saddled me with.”
“Who was it?”
“Mischa Petrov.”
I groaned and crumpled my burger wrapper, wishing it were Petrov’s head.
“I take it you know her?”
“Unfortunately, yes.” In addition to being my biggest competition in assassin school, Mischa Petrov was also my nemesis. She lorded my mixed blood over me whenever possible. And despite my higher grades, my grandmother, as leader of the Dominae, had chosen Mischa as the Primora of the class. The honour ensured Mischa was fast-tracked into getting the plum jobs, unlike the rest of us who had to serve time collecting tithes and tracking down petty criminals.
Slade laughed. “In addition to being completely incompetent, that female had the worst case of fanged vagina I’ve ever had the misfortune to experience.”
I grimaced. “You fucked her?” My new-found respect for Slade took a nosedive.
He snorted and shook his head. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t let that she-devil anywhere near my unmentionables.”
I smiled. “Good for you.”
“Anyway,” he said, “after that horrific experience, I didn’t expect you would be a pleasant surprise. Especially since—” He cut himself off and looked away quickly.
I nodded. “Let me guess, the mixed-blood thing?” He nodded, looking sheepish. “Don’t worry. I’m used to it.”
He shifted uncomfortably on the small seat. “Anyway, I just wanted to apologize for earlier.”
“Do you feel bad enough to split the take with me fifty-fifty?”
He threw back his head and laughed. “How about eighty-twenty?” His tone made it sound like he thought this offer was magnanimous.
I leaned forwards, looking him in the eyes. “Sixty-forty.”
He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes at me. Finally, he sighed. “Seventy-thirty. Final offer.”
“Gods, you’re stubborn,” I said.
He shrugged. “Despite your luck tonight, I’m still the lead on this mission. When we go in tomorrow, you’re going to have to let me call the shots.”
I saluted him. “Yes, sir.”
His lips twitched. “Smart ass.”
Slade picked me up at my apartment the next night. I was waiting for him by the kerb when he pulled up in a black van.
When I got in, I asked, “What happened to the Karmann Ghia?”
He shrugged. “This has better storage.” H
e jerked his head towards the back. I looked over my shoulder and my eyes widened at the treasure trove of weaponry. He’d installed racks filled with guns, knives, crossbows and various other implements of death. Along the opposite wall, a low bench featured manacles instead of seat belts. Red shag carpet completed the dungeon-on-wheels look.
“Nice carpet,” I said.
“Hides blood well.” He turned the key and the engine roared to life. “All set?”
An hour later, we pulled up in front of Zeke’s house in Glendale. Calling it a dump would have been generous. It looked like someone dropped a cinder block and then stuck a door and a couple of windows on it. Although, the weeds, beer cans and cigarette butts added a certain charm to the landscaping.
“Looks like peddling porn doesn’t pay as much as I thought,” Slade said.
“Yeah, extortion is much more lucrative,” I replied, scanning the dark windows for signs of life. “Doesn’t look like anyone’s home.”
“Let me grab some party favours, just in case,” Slade said. He ducked back into the cargo area. He opened his leather blazer and started filling interior pockets with assorted stabby things.
Let me just say, nothing is sexier than watching a male strap weapons to himself. Slade was no exception. For an ass, he had a certain alpha-male sexiness going for him. But I knew better than to entertain those thoughts for very long. I needed to keep my mind on the mission. So, I took my eyes off his physique and focused on his weapons. That’s when I noticed he didn’t bother grabbing any guns.
“No firearms?” I asked, checking the chamber of my own.
He paused. “Never use ’em.” He pulled up the leg of his bell-bottoms and strapped a nylon sheath around his ankle. Into that went three wooden spikes.
“Why not?”
He paused, as if considering the matter for the first time. Finally, he shrugged. “Just don’t like guns.”
“Oh, I get it,’ I said. “You’re old.”
He laughed. “I’m only sixty, Sabina. Hardly old by vampire standards.”
“You’re joking. Sixty?”
He shook his head and grabbed a few throwing stars made from apple wood from the shelf. Judging by the smirk on his face, I’d managed to amuse him. As much as I didn’t like being the source of anyone’s amusement, I had to look at him with grudging respect. To have accomplished so much as an assassin at such a young age was mind-blowing.
“Ready?” he said, breaking into my thoughts. I nodded and cocked my gun. I might want to learn from Slade, but I drew the line at giving up my weapon.
We went in through the back door. In his haste to leave, Zeke must have forgotten to lock it. I shook my head at the oversight. For someone who’d managed to elude us this long, Zeke sure was an idiot.
The kitchen stunk like weeks-old trash and spoiled food. Even in the dark, I could see the dishes piled up in the sink and the pile of pizza boxes stacked next to the overflowing trashcan. Even in the dark, I could see food caked on the harvest yellow fridge and the avocado green counters.
Two doors led off the kitchen to other rooms in the house. Slade pointed to the right, indicating we should split up. I nodded and went through the breakfast area.
The only signs of life from my perspective were cockroaches crawling over forgotten cereal bowls and glasses coated with dried blood. Zeke, in addition to being a pain in my ass, also appeared to be the biggest slob I’d ever encountered.
I moved silently to the corner leading into the living room. When no sounds came from the room beyond, I slowly turned the corner with my gun ready to shoot anything that moved. Maybe I was being paranoid, but carelessness didn’t pay the bills. More than one enforcer had gotten dead by being cocky.
This room was decorated in bachelor chic. Posters of a scantily clad Farrah Fawcett-Majors and the Dallas Cowboy cheerleaders lined the walls. The furnishings consisted of a battered orange Barcalounger parked in front of a TV the size of a compact car. I moved through the room quickly and headed towards the back hallway, which I assumed led to the bedrooms.
Through the doorway, I encountered a linen closet filled with Hustler magazines and ratty towels. A sound to my left had me swinging my gun around. Slade held up his hands and stopped. I blew out a breath and lowered the gun a fraction.
“Anything?” I whispered.
He shook his head. “All clear. You check that last room?”
A closed door waited on our right, which presumably led to a guest room or office. I shook my head and moved towards it. Slade had my back. Not that it made me feel any better. Despite his obvious experience in the field, his presence unsettled me. I was used to working alone, and adding a partner to the mix brought in all sorts of variables I couldn’t control.
Still, I sucked in some air and turned the knob. When no one rushed me or shot me in the face, I let out my breath and walked in. Slade clicked on a flashlight behind me and shined it into the stuffy room. Dust particles glittered in the beam while my eyes adjusted. Once they focused again, I made out a utilitarian metal desk pushed up against the far wall. Confident we were alone in the house, I walked over and clicked on the desk lamp.
I busied myself opening desk drawers, rooting around for any clue of Zeke’s whereabouts. All I got for my effort were a few back issues of Hustler, gummy rubber bands and a matchbook.
“Um, Sabina?”
I pocketed the matchbook, and looked over my shoulder to see what had Slade sounding spooked. He had his back to me, his gaze intent on the wall.
At first, I thought more beer posters plastered the wall. But when I turned around to get a better look, my mouth dropped open. The same collage used as a backdrop in the video covered the wall.
“Godsdamn, that’s creepy,” I said. Made from newspaper clippings, photographs, bits of string and what appeared to be bloody handprints, Zeke had crafted his very own serial killer-esque objet d’art.
I moved closer, careful not to touch anything. Zeke had been a busy boy. Upon closer inspection, I realized the pictures and clippings all served to prove the existence of vampires. From shots of vamps sucking on the necks of victims to headlines about unexplained murders, he had enough evidence to convince even those most doubtful mortals that the stuff of their nightmares not only existed, but walked down the same streets and ate at the same restaurants as the Sons of Adam.
“He wasn’t bluffing,” Slade said quietly. “He really intends to expose us to the mortals.”
I backed away from the scent of dried blood and newsprint ink. “Do you have a camera in that van of yours?”
Slade opened his mouth to answer, but a crash made us both go still. The sound came from the other end of the house, probably the kitchen. I grabbed my gun and went to turn off the light. The room fell into darkness. Something about darkness always amplifies sounds. And this was no different. My breath sounded harsh to my ears as I listened to footsteps advancing through the house.
I glanced at Slade. He held a finger to his lips and went to stand with his back against the wall next to the door. I took point in the corner, diagonal to the doorway, ready to shoot first and ask questions later.
Floorboards creaked in the living room. Amateur, I thought. Or someone who wasn’t expecting two vampires to be waiting for them. I crouched down in the shadows, giving myself the advantage of being able to see the intruder before they saw me.
The darkness in the hall shifted. I aimed the gun directly at the silhouette, tracking the figure. Finally, it crossed the threshold and stopped.
“Stop right there.” Slade’s calm voice sounded unnaturally loud in the dark.
The intruder jerked. Three panic shots exploded in quick succession. I covered my head with my hands as a shot zinged past my ear. “Godsdammit!”
“Stop!” Slade yelled. A scuffle sounded from the doorway. A female gasp followed by a male grunt.
I dived for the lamp on the desk. Light spilled through the room just in time for me to catch Mischa Petrov kneeing Slade betwe
en the legs. Gods love him, he held his ground, knocking the gun from her hand.
“Mischa, stop!” I yelled.
But she wasn’t done fighting. The idiot was so pumped up on adrenaline she wasn’t thinking.
“You scared the shit out of me!” she yelled at Slade, swiping at him and hissing like a feral cat. She was even dressed like Cat Woman in her one-piece black jumpsuit, which left little to the imagination.
I grabbed her arms and tore her away from Slade. She panted like an injured animal, ready to strike again. Blood covered Slade’s lower lip, and two deep scratch marks bled freely next to his eye. Seeing the needless injuries, something snapped. I could understand why she shot without looking, but her disgraceful display of fear after the fact disgusted me.
“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us!” I yelled.
She jerked away and rounded on me. “Me?” she spat. “You two were skulking in the shadows like a couple of thieves.”
“I told you to stop.” Slade said it in the same tone one might use to share the time. His complete lack of anger impressed me. Sure, he was probably pissed on the inside. But outside? Total control. That was the sign of a real professional. Unlike some bitches I could mention.
Mischa seemed to have collected some of her composure. She smoothed her palms over her ruby-red Crystal Gayle hair which, in my opinion, was completely ridiculous for an assassin. Now that she’d gotten control of herself, she transformed back into her typical dragon-lady persona. “Sorry, Slade. If I’d known it was you I never would have fired.” She smiled at him in a way that reminded me of a lion eyeing a particularly plump gazelle.
“Shut up, Mischa. Flirting with me won’t erase the fact you fucked up,” Slade said. “Your lack of control makes you a danger to both yourself and anyone working with you.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Fuck you, Slade.”
“I’d rather gnaw off my own arm, thanks.”
I didn’t bother to cover my grin. “Looks like you’ve lost one of your admirers, Mischa.”
She turned on me, practically spitting venom. “Shut up, mixed-blood. No one asked for your opinion.”
I clenched my teeth and glared at her, refusing to let her get the best of my temper. I turned to Slade. “Can we go now?”
Love Bites UK (Mammoth Book Of Vampire Romance2) Page 38