Vertigo Vampire: a Supernatural Thriller (The Specials Book 2)

by Tricia Owens

  The phone rang.

  I yelped at the strident sound and jumped back from the desk, but not before my elbow knocked the phone to the floor. The phone didn’t ring again and I didn’t hear a voice from the receiver, so I hastily replaced it and set the phone back on the desk. When I checked the video screen, I cursed. The figure was gone. The hallway was empty of all but the rectangle of light shining from Day’s open doorway.

  I couldn’t risk rewinding the video to find out what the creature had looked like. My time had run out. I hastily ejected the disk and replaced it in the drawer and shut the cabinet. The monitor was still on because I’d awakened the computer. Short of turning it off and making it obvious that someone had been here, all I could do was hope the computer went to sleep before one of the managers returned.

  The office door jerked open. I jumped away from the desk, caught red-handed.

  “Get out,” Sheridan ordered. A bead of blood slid from one of her nostrils. “You’ve got seconds.”

  I dashed out of the office ahead of her. She slammed the door shut, making me wince, but she didn’t seem to care about making noise and attracting attention. She grabbed my arm and the two of us rushed through the employee locker room and out into the lobby.

  Tower and Nova stood beside the desk, facing us.

  “It’s okay,” Sheridan told me as I skidded to a halt. She shoved me out into the lobby. “I pulled Time.”

  As she said it I noticed what I’d first missed: the two managers and Elliott, standing at the other end of the desk, were motionless. Sheridan, being a Master level Time-Manip specialist, had done that. For me.

  I opened my mouth to tell her thanks—

  “—wouldn’t happen, but we’ll, of course, check on that,” Tower said.

  This time I was the only one who stood frozen as Time rolled into motion again.

  Nova Fallon, the night manager, nodded in response to Tower’s comment. “Alright, I will find out.” She turned her head and her pale blue eyes widened slightly upon seeing me. “Arrow.”

  I smiled, heart beating a thousand beats a minute. “I snuck up on you. I was over there.” I waved vaguely across the lobby. In doing so, I caught Elliott’s eye. He looked petrified.

  “A good skill for Security,” Tower said with a congenial smile for me. “I’m glad to have caught you,” he said, unaware of how my heart skipped a beat at the word ‘caught.’ “Well done on the job today. I apologize for the late notice, but jobs will occasionally arise at the last minute. It’s good to be flexible.”

  “I’m sorry it ended that way,” I told him. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. “With Mr. Peerage’s death, that is. He seemed like he was willing to work with us.”

  Tower tilted his head. “Oh? Did you speak with him?”

  What do you know? I thought at him. What the hell did I just see?

  “Not really,” I told him. “It was just an impression I got.”

  He nodded thoughtfully, but I was wary of his calm demeanor. Tower was powerful and dangerous, with secrets only The Architect shared.

  “Yes, well, it was an unfortunate situation all around. But thanks to you and the other Specials it was contained quietly and without disturbing the other guests. That’s what I expect and hope of you, and you delivered. Excellent job.”

  My smile was plastic. “No problem.”

  “Well, I suppose I’m off, then. The hotel is in good hands with you all.” He turned to cast a smile at Sheridan and paused.

  I looked at her, curious about his reaction, and inhaled sharply. Blood still leaked from one nostril. She must not have felt it. I raised my hand and wiped at my nose, hoping she’d get the message. She noticed my action and very calmly reached for a tissue, which she dabbed at her nose.

  “Oh, dear,” she murmured as she looked down at the bloodied tissue. “The air is drier than I’d realized.” She smiled at Tower. “Mr. Tower, perhaps tomorrow you would be so kind as to raise the humidity levels in the rest area for me?”

  “Of course, Sheridan. I’ll do it tonight before I leave.”

  He didn’t sound suspicious, only conciliatory, but my paranoia levels were through the roof. Did he know Sheridan had pulled Time? Did he connect my sudden appearance to the act and realized she and I been up to something? I prayed neither he nor Nova entered the managers’ office while there stood the chance that the monitor was still activated.

  With Nova apparently content to linger at the front desk, I couldn’t speak with Sheridan about what I’d seen in the security footage. Instead, I gave a nod to Elliott.

  “Come on, buddy. Let’s go begin our rounds.”

  I felt three sets of eyes following me as we headed for the stairs, but I didn’t look back.

  Chapter 7

  “What did you learn?” Elliott asked once we were well away from the lobby, in an elevator riding up. It was the safest place I could think of at the moment, because it was moving.

  “Something’s going on,” I told him urgently. I put my back to the security camera that I knew was in the corner. “We were wrong, Elliott. Peerage didn’t kill Dr. Day. I don’t even think the Count killed him.”

  “But—then who?”

  “I don’t know.” I hated admitting my ignorance. I felt stripped naked. That thing I’d seen in the video could be anywhere, taking on any shape, ready to pounce at any time. I couldn’t protect Elliott from it because I couldn’t even protect myself.

  “One thing I do know,” I said, “is that someone screwed up when they invited Dr. Day here. I don’t think his death was planned or expected. I need to speak to the Count.”

  Elliott didn’t appear too enthusiastic about the idea. “I know I said he agreed to talk to you, but it’s not like I can call him up and tell him to meet us for coffee. He shows up when he wants to. I have no control over him.”

  “There’s no way to tempt him?”

  He blushed. “You mean, like if I…” He trailed off.

  “I didn’t mean that. He’s a shark. How do you tempt a shark?”

  He gaped and then said in a hushed voice, “With blood.”

  ~~~~~

  The ballroom was dark and the stage where The Architect had revealed himself to all the Specials and informed us that we were part of his army stood still and silent. The darkness was good because none of the guests would have any reason to come here and inadvertently interfere with what I had planned.

  I dragged Elliott to the women’s restroom despite his embarrassed protests and flipped on the lights. As he and I stood at the sinks, staring at our reflections in the wall length mirror, I nearly laughed.

  “Should one of us call for Bloody Mary?”

  He shivered, not amused. “We might end up summoning something worse. This is the Sinister Hotel, remember?”

  Thinking about what I had seen on the security footage, I was inclined to agree. Uneasy, I cast another look around the restroom, my eyes lingering on the shadows. But I couldn’t put this off. I began rolling up my sleeve. “You may not want to look when I do this…”

  Elliott appeared squeamish, but he shook his head. “No, if you’re willing to do this, I won’t look away. I need to have guts, right? So—” he took a fortifying breath, “—I’ll have guts.”

  With an apologetic look sent his way, I unclipped the carabiner from my belt and meddled it into a knife. I held my forearm over the sink and jerked the blade quickly across it. Blood immediately welled up in the wound and spilled over my arm.

  “Let’s hope he’s got a good sense of smell,” I said as I braced my elbow atop the counter to keep my arm suspended over the sink. “I really don’t want to perform major surgery to lure him here.”

  “Isn’t your healing factor going to close up the wound?” Elliott asked me worriedly.

  I looked away from him. “Yeah, but I’ll just make another cut.” I didn’t look forward to it, honestly. Possessing a healing factor didn’t mean I didn’t experience pain. I was very normal in that reg
ard, so the prospect of continually cutting myself if the Count didn’t show up soon made my insides shrivel.

  “He’ll show up,” Elliott said firmly. He leaned back against the sink. “He wants to help us, or at least he wants to know who set him up so he’ll take our help, which will be the same thing. He’s not bad or evil, but remember: he killed the previous Head of Security. And I think he did it for me.”

  “From now on, then, I’ll refer to you as ‘sir’,” I said.

  Elliott grinned.

  “I shall continue to call him ‘pet’,” said a smooth, silken voice.

  The man in red emerged from one of the open stalls, floating above the ground as usual. I would have laughed at anyone else making their dramatic entrance from a restroom stall but it was impossible to do so when that someone was a vampire. The painful radiance of the Count seemed to reflect off all the hard surfaces in the room and was magnified when it bounced off the mirror above the sinks. I winced, overwhelmed, repelled, and oddly attracted, all at the same time.

  “Don’t you dare put me in thrall,” I gritted out as I straightened. I grabbed some paper towels from the holder without taking my eyes off the vampire. I held them over my wound. “We’re on the same side.”

  “I hardly think so,” the Count replied. His dark eyes flicked to the shallow pool of blood in the sink and I watched as something vicious and hungry moved through his eyes. “Step aside, unless you care to volunteer more.”

  He didn’t need to ask twice. I backed away and watched warily as the vampire glided to the sink. He didn’t bother looking to see if I seemed ready to attack him. I was of absolutely no consideration as he bent his head into the bowl and began delicately lapping up my blood.

  I shivered with repulsion. Seeing a being drink my blood was revolting. It was as though he were eating me alive. I pressed the towels harder against my wound to speed up the clotting process and was relieved when I lifted them and saw that my wound had closed and no longer bled. I tossed the towels into the trash. The Count’s dark eyes lingered on the garbage can, but he made no move away from the sink.

  When he had cleaned the porcelain, he straightened. His eyes gleamed with something not quite happiness, not quite contentment. It was as though he’d sampled a chocolate truffle.

  “I am here,” he said softly, staring at me. “Now what?”

  I shuddered, aware that he would take my surrender if I offered it and we wouldn’t exchange a word of information. He wanted my blood more than he wanted my knowledge. But I told myself I was stronger than a vampire’s will. I tilted my head back, both in defiance and to taunt him with the unblemished length of my throat. What he wanted, I was all too happy to deny him.

  “There’s something in the hotel,” I said.

  I expected denial or a claim of ignorance.

  The Count said, “Yes.”

  Elliott startled, but I felt a smidgen of relief that the vampire was going to be forthright with us. “What is it? Where did it come from?”

  The Count didn’t appear very interested in my additional questions, though. His fixation on my throat caused sweat to break out all over my body. In my mind’s eye I pictured it: him rushing forward suddenly and pinning me to the wall too quickly for me to meddle a weapon. Arterial blood would spray across the walls as he tore my throat out.

  I still held the knife I’d meddled. I held it up so he could see it, and I meddled it into a metal stake. The fever in his gaze dimmed and his mouth hardened.

  “Is this your duty for him now?” he asked, derision in his voice.

  “Him, who? Elliott?”

  “The Architect.”

  I hid my surprise that the Count knew of Nathaniel. But why wouldn’t the vampire know of him? The Count had been in the hotel for years, according to Elliott. It wasn’t out of the question that at some point they had crossed paths.

  “This doesn’t have anything to do with him,” I said, though my fear that Nathaniel was deeply involved in this grew exponentially. “Why would you think it does?”

  “Because this place exists because of him. For him.” He bared his teeth. “Though not for much longer.”

  “I don’t get it. Who is he to you?”

  “A dead man!” the vampire snapped, his eyes suddenly raging, causing me to cry out and stumble back, stake raised protectively before me. “His father and the others lured me with promises of change. They betrayed me until I found the strength to tear my way free.” His chest rose and fell, as if with the instinctive memory of his humanity. “They used me for abominations, so I will likewise make him suffer by destroying his progeny…and all who provide him aid.”

  I curled the fingers of one hand around the stock of my gun, though I didn’t know if my net bullets would hold him for long, if at all.

  “You can’t hold The Architect responsible for whatever you say was done to you,” I told him, though I was desperately worried that Nathaniel had hidden something terrible from me. “He’s not a scientist. He’s an ordinary man trying to uncover the truth. He’s on your side. We all are. All the Specials.”

  “All?” His smile was cruel and disbelieving. “Is Sheridan on my side, pet?”

  Elliott audibly gulped. “I don’t know for certain. But she’s—she’s my friend.”

  “And that matters to me why?”

  I hated the expression on Elliott’s face, therefore I hated the one who put it there.

  “Listen, jerk,” I said to the Count, “you deal with your personal baggage another time and leave The Architect and the Specials out of it. We’re after the government, not you.”

  “How little you know. You are fleas riding the back of the behemoth as it tears your world apart. By all means, contribute to your downfall.” The Count glided backward, his eyes still holding me painfully captive. “Why did you call me here?”

  He came to a stop beside Elliott. I didn’t miss the implied threat of his positioning. Did Elliott recognize that he was in danger? He kept his eyes on the floor, though I noticed that he leaned slightly toward the floating vampire.

  No, Elliott would let the vampire sink his fangs into him before he acknowledged that maybe the situation was beyond his control.

  “What happened to Dr. Day?” I demanded. “If you didn’t bite him, who or what did?”

  He stared at me. The hairs on my arms started to rise. I heard my blood thundering in my ears and I questioned if he could hear it. I thought suddenly of how nice his lips would feel against my skin and with that thought my entire body shivered pleasantly with sexual awareness of how beautiful and powerful the Count was.

  “Damn. You,” I gritted out. “Stop it.”

  He smirked and looked to Elliott, releasing me from the thrall. “Will you grow a spine like her, pet?”

  Elliott flushed and trembled. He resembled a baby bird fallen from its nest, his vulnerability apparently intoxicating to the vampire, whose eyes blazed with something I dared to label lust. I didn’t know if vampires were capable of human emotions, but something existed within the Count for Elliott. I just hoped it wasn’t something that would leave Elliott dead.

  “We’re trying to help you,” Elliott murmured, eyes still on the floor, as if to meet the vampire’s gaze would seal his fate. It very well might. “I wish you’d stop pushing us away and join us in figuring out who did this awful thing.”

  The vampire said nothing, but his stillness seemed even more so, as if what passed for life within him had fled. Was this the Count shocked? Embarrassed? Chagrined?

  “Dr. Day was one of them,” he said, still staring intently at Elliott’s profile. “He used me to create abominations. Had I known he was checking into the hotel, I would have personally greeted him by ripping out his spine. By the time I did seek him out, my pleasure had been stolen from me.” The Count glanced at me. “You saw it happen.”

  I shivered involuntarily. “What was that thing?”

  “Something which should never have been allowed breath.”


  “Was it always in the Sinistera or did it come from somewhere else?”

  A flash of fangs. “A question better asked of your precious Architect.”

  It was one of the last things I wanted to hear.

  “Did Dr. Day experiment on you?” Elliott asked as I struggled with the confirmation of my fears. “Did he hurt you and that’s why you hated him?”

  “No man can hurt me,” the vampire hissed.

  “But they did,” Elliott said softly. “I can tell.”

  The Count shuddered. I tensed, afraid he was going to erupt into a rampage. Violence built in him like a bomb about to detonate.

  “Run will you still can,” the Count warned. He stared at me once more. My muscles seized up as I resisted the urge to drop to my knees for him and offer up my throat. With a sneer, he turned away, releasing me. He glided toward the door of the restroom and without a word, passed through the door as though he were made of mist.

  As soon as he vanished, Elliott raised shaking hands to his face and covered it. “That was…”

  “Yeah,” I agreed as my spine turned to jelly. I was physically exhausted, as though I’d been standing on my tiptoes for hours while balancing a book on my head. “That was intense. But I think it was worth it.”

  Elliott dragged his hands down until his soft gray eyes showed. “If you say so.”

  Dr. Day and Nathaniel’s father had worked together on an experiment that had turned ugly for the Count. Something awful had come of it, something that had bitten Day and torn his face off. I sensed there would be multiple layers to whatever this was, and I worried that under one of those layers I’d find evidence of ugly complicity by people I was supposed to trust. What was I prepared to do if Tower and Nathaniel proved to be darker than I hoped they were?