Straven grinned at him, and it hit Nick only then that the other vampire really was high, and not just a little.
From what Nick could tell, Straven was full-blown wasted on something.
Vampires’ pupils didn’t dilate the way a human’s did when they were loaded up on narcotics, but their eyes had a tendency to go glassy, and flush red more quickly when they were fucked up… and Straven was definitely fucked up on something.
More likely, a veritable cocktail of somethings.
“Are you okay?” Straven said, looking down Nick’s body, even as they half leaned on him. “My people took good care of you? At the hospital?”
Nick frowned, again exchanging looks with Wynter.
“I’m good, my friend,” he said, patting Straven on the arm in return, and smiling stiffly. “How about you? You okay?”
“Fan-fucking-tastic…” the other slurred, laughing as they leaned in closer, kissing Nick wetly on the mouth.
When Nick turned his head at Straven’s second attempt to kiss him, the older vampire burst out in a laugh.
“I feel great. Fucking unbelievable, brother. Like a komodo dragon…”
Still grinning into Nick’s face, they leaned down, trying to kiss him a third time.
“God, you are beautiful. You and your lovely mate—”
“Okay, okay. Good to see you too, friend.” Nick turned his head more quickly that time, stepping back, but not before he felt a flare of annoyance off Wynter. “Hey. Did you want to go somewhere, Straven? Somewhere quieter? So we can all talk? Maybe eat some solid food?”
“Yes!” the older vampire said, leaning more of their weight on Nick.
They might have been trying to rub up against Nick’s groin, but they hit into Nick’s hurt thigh instead, making him bite his tongue against the pain, then grind his teeth.
Again, Straven didn’t seem to notice.
“Yes!” they slurred, still hanging on him. “Yes, yes, yes… I very much want to talk to you, Detective Naoko Tanaka… very much! We must all talk! All of us! Get to know one another… na? Move past these terrible, terrible events…”
Before Nick could answer, Straven threw back their head, letting out a disturbingly loud and high-pitched laugh.
Nick flinched involuntarily at the sound, glancing at Wynter in alarm.
Straven’s laugh sounded like razor blades attacking glassware.
Or like a donkey in physical pain.
One thing was certain, whatever it sounded like exactly, absolutely nothing about it conveyed even the barest hint of real humor.
Nick glanced back towards Wynter and that time noticed the two human lawyers, rat-face and Teddy, standing just behind her and to her right, closer to the door. Both of them clutched briefcases in their hands, holding them in front of their bodies as if using them as genital shields.
Nick scowled as he looked between their faces.
He truthfully couldn’t remember meeting two bigger assholes in a long time.
And he was a cop.
Theodore, or “Teddy,” the one with the reddish-blond hair and the sweaty face and possible toupee, was staring at Wynter’s ass and tits again, just like he had that first night. Also like that first night, the older, rat-faced one—Reginald, or “Reg,” as Straven called him—focused only on Nick, staring at him like he was a particularly disgusting bug he wanted to step on, but not badly enough to get close to it.
Nick wondered how Straven could stand to be around either of these fuckers for any amount of time, much less every day. If they really were part of Straven’s regular entourage, no wonder the androgynous vamp was a drug addict.
Both men, despite their separate preoccupations with him and Wynter, glanced around the bar nervously, like they were afraid they might be physically attacked… or possibly afraid they might catch a disease just from breathing so much other-people air.
Nick didn’t bother greeting either of them.
Given their last meeting, he barely spared them a glance.
For the same reason, however, he did a double-take when Theodore caught his stare and grinned at him like a giant puppy, giving him a dorky, friendly sort of wave and thumb’s up.
“Hello, Detective Tanaka,” he shouted, still grinning as he raised his voice over the noise of the crowd. “Good to see you again!”
Nick gave him a brief, perplexed look, lips pursed.
He considered saying something back… then didn’t.
He looked at Straven, instead.
“Have any of the humans eaten yet?” he said, glancing at Wynter.
Straven smiled, eyes glassy.
“No,” they said. “Let us feed them now together, shall we?”
“Sure,” Nick said agreeably. “Whatever.”
He glanced around the crowded space, watching a virtual wave splash up over a small cocktail table, making the group sitting there shriek with laughter. Nick saw a tentacled arm ripple up out of the dark water, coiling around the railing of the virtual ship, then disappear back into the foam.
“Maybe not in here, though?” he added, looking back at Straven. “Do you know of another place nearby? Someplace quieter? Less conspicuous? Where we could…”
He trailed when he saw the tall, white-haired vampire already walking away from him.
Straven sashayed alongside the bar, head held high, straightening the long, bright red, 18th Century coat they wore, which Nick noticed only then. The coat, decorated in fine gold embroidery and with giant golden buttons down the front, fit disturbingly well with the virtual show going on in the background, of the old-fashioned wooden boat in a storm, about to be attacked by some kind of primordial leviathan.
Underneath the long jacket, the androgynous vampire wore short, cream-colored pants, shimmery gray stockings and what looked like shoes designed to mimic those of the same time period as Straven’s coat.
The illusion might have worked, with the large gold buckles on each shoe, but for the augmented-reality fish swimming over each foot and up Straven’s calves and thighs.
Straven had been noticed by then, so people made way for the architect as they strolled down the length of the virtual room.
Bar patrons gazed up at Straven’s face in awe as they recognized the vamp, eyes round and worshipful as their voices dropped to murmurs as Straven passed.
Clearly, in this part of town, the famous architect was far from anonymous.
Pretending to ignore all the stares and shock their presence ignited, Straven made their way casually alongside the bar, clicking their fingers at the bartender as they passed.
“Geri, my love,” they called out in a lazy drawl, waving over the tall woman with the black mohawk and jewel-colored tattoos. “Can we have one of the rooms in the back, darling? Do you have any free?”
She looked up, did a double-take, and broke out in a wide grin.
“For you? Of course, my love.” She jerked her chin to her left. “Second one on the right. I’ll turn everything on now.”
“Thank you so much. You are such a love. And would you be kind enough to send someone back for a food and drink order?”
Her smile grew even warmer.
“Of course.” She blew Straven a kiss. “And don’t feel the need to stick to the menu, love. We’ll bring you anything you like. Live feeds. Blood bags of any type. Any type of food you require for your guests. Along with any other… whims. Ask, and you shall receive.”
She waggled her eyebrows at the androgynous vampire, and Straven beamed at her, their eyes showing a glassy delight.
“You are a doll. We’ll be needing some privacy, too, of course. That means no surveillance. We’ll need the I.S.F. feeds switched off… and anything private you might have in there, you naughty girl. Along with city surveillance, of course…”
Nick’s eyebrows went up, but he didn’t comment.
He didn’t comment even though the other vampire’s request was super, super illegal, and Nick was a cop, even if his branch of law enfo
rcement had no real jurisdiction over city surveillance, not directly at least.
He was still a cop.
He still wasn’t supposed to turn a blind eye to blatant law-breaking when it happened right in front of him… jurisdiction or no… and what Straven just asked of the bartender was really, super illegal, not just in the New York Protected Area, but in any part of the globe that fell under the Human Racial Authority, or H.R.A.
That was pretty much all of it.
The request was particularly illegal given that it came from a vampire.
A disgustingly rich and famous, much-beloved-by-humans vampire, yes.
But still, a vampire.
“No problem at all, sir,” the bartender called back cheerfully. She rolled her eyes even as she said it, as though Straven’s request was a given. “It’s already done.”
“Mwah,” Straven said, blowing her a kiss. “I do love you so, Miss Geraldine. You are a doll.” They drawled the words theatrically, aiming a long finger at her in a graceful gesture. “And I adore the new tattoo. That is simply gorgeous work.”
She glanced down at her bare arm, where a vampire’s face grinned from her upper bicep and shoulder. Looking back at Straven, she beamed in obvious pleasure.
“Hey, thanks!” she said.
From her expression, she obviously took the compliment to mean more, given the source. She was positively glowing as she finished making the drink she’d started before Straven spoke to her, smiling to herself as their group walked by.
Wynter walked past Nick then, drawing his eyes.
She followed Straven towards the back room, and Nick watched her walk, feeling more eyes on her than just his. The two lawyers followed her, along with three other humans and two vampires Nick hadn’t even noticed as part of their group.
Only when the entire entourage was halfway to the corridor leading into the back rooms did Nick slide carefully off the stool, wincing as he put weight on his hurt leg.
Doing his best to shed the limp as he stretched his muscles, he sped his steps to catch up with Straven’s group. They all walked behind the stage as he watched, disappearing through a narrow passage just as more octopus-like tentacles came out of the virtual water and coiled aggressively around the bow of the virtual ship.
Nick walked under the tentacles as he reached the far wall, disappearing through the opening after the rest of them.
As he did, he pinged Jordan briefly, sending him a brief message without waiting to see if the human picked up on the other end.
“We’re with Straven,” Nick sent through his headset. “Wynter and me. In a bar across from the Isis building in Midtown.” Thinking, Nick let out a low grunt. “He’s blasted out of his gourd on something. I’ll do what I can, but don’t get your hopes up. That being said, if I find anything, I’ll send it to you as soon as I can.”
Hesitating as light flashed in front of him, blinding him briefly as members of his group disappeared through a door up ahead, he added,
“Take another look at that painting, Jordan. The one I showed you yesterday. From our future-seeing artist. I’ll do the same when I get a minute, but I thought you might as well do it now, since you’re probably sitting on your ass, watching shit programming on the television while I take one for the team.”
Hesitating again, he added,
“Don’t ask me why. Or what to look for. I’ve got no answers for you, brother. Just a feeling. A woo-woo, totally non-scientific, unsubstantiated feeling… based on nothing.”
Despite what he’d just said, he fought briefly with how to explain that better, to quantify it in some way.
In the end, he couldn’t.
…so he just disconnected the line.
Chapter 19
Lying To Yourself
“I might have to bite him,” Nick said, speaking quietly through his headset. “You know that, right? I may have to bite him, Wynter.”
He adjusted his body in the low, faux-leather, bright-green sofa.
His hurt leg didn’t really like the angle, or the angle of the low table resting just above it, but he did his best to find a comfortable way to sit.
Giving Wynter a bare glance, he looked past her, to where Straven sat on her other side, leaning into a human there, laughing at something the woman just said.
Or, hell, maybe laughing at nothing at all.
If anything, Straven seemed more fucked up since they’d come in here, not less.
“I don’t think we have time to try and pull useable information off wasted Straven,” Nick added in a grim, sub-vocal mutter. “And we’re running out of options, honey… and time. That’s only a suspicion, of course, but I’m pretty sure I’m right—”
“What did he tell you? Your errand?” Her voice soured through the headset speakers. “Your… you know… sire. Did he give you anything? Anything useful?”
Nick glanced at her.
That time, he was unable to keep his eyes from dropping to her neckline, or the wash of pale, soft skin visible above the shimmering, moonstone dress.
“That dress is really fucking distracting,” he murmured in the headset.
He took her hand, pulling it onto his thigh without thought. Raising it to his lips, he kissed her fingers, realizing only then how far extended his fangs were.
“Are you okay?” he murmured. “Did you get enough to eat?”
Something else occurred to him then, and he reached up tentatively, brushing his fingers lightly over the skin of her shoulder. Even with his vampire eyes, he couldn’t see them without feeling where they were; his fingers felt the slight difference in texture, but that was it.
“You’re wearing bandages,” he said softly. “To cover the bites.”
She glanced up, smiling at him more genuinely, maybe for the first time.
“Well… duh,” she said back. “Did you expect me to come in here with your teeth marks all over me? That strikes me as… obscene.”
Definitely obscene, his mind commented.
Truthfully, the thought made his cock hurt, bringing his erection back without warning, along with a flood of emotion he didn’t even try to categorize.
He didn’t answer her, though.
Not out loud.
He knew she was right. If she’d walked in here like that, wearing that dress, she would have caused a riot. For multiple reasons.
He continued to caress her skin lightly, finding the slight changes in texture that indicated another organic bandage where it blended perfectly with her skin. He really wanted her to put her hand on him.
Truthfully, he wanted more than her hand on him.
Before the thought fully formed, he leaned down, kissing her lips, kissing the side of her face. He returned to her mouth, running his tongue over hers past his fangs, hearing her heart jackknife as her hands slid up his chest.
“Nick,” she said softly, pulling away from his mouth, still using the headset. “We probably shouldn’t go there right now. Not if last night is any indication. Neither of us is exactly ‘all there’ when it comes to the other right now.”
He nodded, letting her push him back.
He knew she was right.
He knew it.
He knew it, if only for the fact that some part of him was on the verge of taking her out of here already, of fucking her on the floor of whatever locked, semi-enclosed space he could manage to find for them, whether another “private room” or a damned storage closet.
He’d been there all day, he knew, fighting to think in straight lines, but it got a hell of a lot worse once he found himself sitting next to her, her thigh pressed against his where she sat in that dress, looking up at him.
“I really want to fuck,” he confessed out loud. “I want to fuck really, really badly, Wynter.”
She smiled, and that made it a lot worse.
“I know.” Reaching up, she traced his jaw with her fingers. “You’re not exactly subtle right now, Nick. You’re looking at me like you’re ready to drag me out by m
y hair.”
Hesitating, she switched back to her headset, glancing at Straven before adding,
“…for the same reason, I know this is probably going to freak you out, but I really think you should let him bite me, Nick. Rather than biting him yourself, I mean. It’d be a lot faster. We’d also learn a lot more.”
Nick stiffened, even before she’d finished speaking.
“No,” he growled, saying it out loud.
She answered him via the headset.
“What did Brick tell you?” she said, calm, pulling his mind back to the case. “What did he say exactly, Nick, that’s got you thinking all of this is so urgent?”
Nick fought to think.
He only managed it marginally by looking away from her.
He could smell the human-mimicking pheromones she’d sprayed on her skin. He could smell that the bandages had some kind of perfume on them as well, something that killed the smell of her blood, of the open wound.
The problem was, it didn’t seem to matter anymore.
It didn’t seem to matter at all… not for him.
She still smelled like Wynter to him, even under all that.
She smelled so much like herself, it was fucking maddening.
“Russians,” he said finally, clenching his jaw as he looked past her, at where two humans who’d just joined their party were making out with another vampire, taking turns kissing him while he and a female vampire next to him took turns feeding on each of their wrists.
Nick glanced at Wynter.
“Brick called it ‘human business,’” he said. “He advised me to stay out of it, of course. The sense I got is, Brick thinks whatever this is, it will all go down soon… that the tech will change hands soon. He seemed to think Straven didn’t have a lot of time left. I got the impression he didn’t think Straven would get through this alive—”
“Did you let him feed on you? Brick?”
Feeling her anger, her jealousy, Nick turned, staring at her.
Briefly, he was lost in those blue-green eyes.
He wondered if he was getting a contact high with all of these wasted vampires and humans around them… then realized that was just another fucking excuse, a way to explain everything he’d been thinking and feeling the last two days.
The Prescient: A Science Fiction Vampire Detective Novel (Vampire Detective Midnight Book 3) Page 27