by Nina Walker
One look at Eddie shuts these guys up but not without a few grimaces. They leave me alone after that, ordering and eating their meals without any more advances, and leaving without lingering around. As they go, I catch them complaining about a popular vampire-run nightclub nearby called The Crypt that they want to go to. The guy who propositioned me is grumbling about the high cover fee.
Since humans can’t give blood every day without wasting away to nothing, the vampires keep meticulous records of how much blood we “donate.” Donations equal entrance, so explain to me how it’s a donation and not a payment? Anyway, when people aren’t eligible for donation they have to pay actual money for their vices, and the prices aren’t cheap. The vampires have taken over just about everything seedy––bars, strip clubs, casinos. Rumor has it even illegal drugs and sex work are included on the list.
I’ve always wondered about blood alcohol levels or drugs tainting the donations, but obviously the vamps don’t care because they keep encouraging it. Maybe they even like tainted blood. Could it be more desirable to them? Can they drink alcohol? I have no idea. And I don’t really care.
“You did good, kid.” Eddie pats me on the back on the way out after I’ve finished for the night. “I’ll make sure you get a couple more evening shifts next week.”
I smile brightly and thank him before heading out to the parking lot. Mom’s old silver Corolla greets me. I love that car. I’d buy it from her in a heartbeat if she didn’t need it for her day job. Scratch getting an apartment, I need to buy my own car so I don’t have to keep borrowing hers. At least I didn’t have to take the bus today like I do during my daytime shifts when Mom is at her bank teller job at a local credit union. It’s a miracle she still has that job, to be honest. If they knew about her gambling addiction, nobody would trust that woman around giant wads of cash.
But Mom has a way about her, a way that can easily fool everyone. Just not me. She’s the kind of person who makes you feel at ease while also wanting to impress her. I credit her two-faced nature to all those pageants and to growing up in the South where the phrase “bless your heart” comes second nature. Don’t get me wrong, I love my mom deeply and I know so much of what’s going on isn’t her fault, but I’m also tired. So, so tired.
The back parking lot is usually busy, but by this time of night it’s emptied out. The Corolla is one of the only cars left out here. A chill creeps up my spine. It’s that paranoid feeling of being watched all over again, only this time it’s dark. I ignore it and walk faster to the car, keys ready to go. Something skitters across the pavement behind me. I whip around, but nobody’s there. Maybe it was an animal? A racoon or stray cat wouldn’t be out of the question.
My mind races a million miles a minute, imagining that table of rough men I had. In my thoughts, they’re not at the next bar, but actually spying on me from the shadows, closing in to attack.
Or worse, it could be a vampire…
I do have enemies now and what about that car that followed me? Someone could be out here.
But nothing happens.
I make it to the car, unlock it with the key fob at the last second, and climb inside with a sigh of relief. I’m going to have to ask Eddie to walk me to my car at night next time I snag one of these coveted shifts. That’s if I’m not taking the bus home. Or a taxi. All depends on what Mom needs. Considering my pocket is full of tip money, I need to be smarter. That right there puts a target on my back and is definitely worth the nighttime spookiness factor.
I lean back in my seat and slip the seatbelt into position.
The passenger door flies open and a man slides in next to me. Before I can scramble away, he snatches my wrist in his iron tight grip.
“Don’t scream,” Adrian Teresi speaks low.
His blue eyes and pale skin practically glow in the darkness. My skidding heart turns animalistic, trying to claw its way out of my throat. I can’t scream because I can’t speak. I can’t even move! Everything inside me is urging me to run, to get away, and that this man––this thing––is here to deliver my death. Frozen panic doesn’t last long as my voice comes rushing back. “Get away from me!”
“Tsk, tsk.” Adrian squeezes tighter and glares. “You should have thought of that before you stole from me.”
“I didn’t steal anything. You gave that money to me.”
“I gave it to you under the agreement that you wouldn’t call the police, but you did, so the way I see it, you stole five thousand dollars from me.” His eyes narrow. “You have caused an issue for me within the VEC and I do not take kindly to it.”
I heave my wrist away again, and this time he drops it. Part of me wants to try and make a run for it, but I know I won’t be fast enough. The other part of me wants to stay and play Adrian’s little game just to see if I can win. Where’s that stake when I need it?
My mind fumbles through where I stashed it last, and I remember. It’s under the driver’s seat, probably inches from my foot. If I can just grab it quick enough, I can kill Adrian and––
“Looking for this?” Adrian holds it up. His blue eyes flash murderous.
Now I’ve truly run out of things to say.
“I should stake you right here and now,” he purrs, “see how you like it.” But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes his hand and splinters the weapon into pieces, hissing when the silver tip of it grazes his skin. It sends a little puff of smoke into the car. He throws the remnants in the backseat.
Geez . . . I’m going to have to talk to Felix about getting me a full-on silver stake because apparently the wood ones are economy class. Then again, I hear genuine silver is hard to come by these days. The suckers saw to that before they revealed themselves. They had ages to plan, after all.
“What do you want from me?” I say at last, staring Adrian back, eye to eye. He’s an oxymoron if I’ve ever seen one. He looks young, mid-twenties at the most, but his eyes and his mannerisms speak of centuries of experience. Not for the first time, I wonder how old he really is. I mean, being a prince must make him ancient, right?
“I already told you what I want, Angel.” He nods toward the steering wheel. “Drive. There’s somewhere we need to go.”
So he found out my mom’s nickname for me. I shouldn’t be surprised. “Evangeline,” I correct.
“Drive!” he roars. “Or do you need me to do it for you?”
“Sorry, buddy, but does this look like a taxi to you?” I glare. “Get out of my car.”
Faster than humanly possible, he snatches both my hands and slams them so forcefully against the wheel that pain thunders up my wrists.
Tears spring to my eyes. “What the hell? I’m breakable you know!”
“Drive,” he demands again. “Or I will, and you might not survive that. You decide.”
I might not survive how he drives? Is he serious with this? Anger burns hot in my chest, but I don’t see another way out of this, so I finally do as the man––the creature––says and put the car into drive. I cling to the anger, letting it consume me, because it’s better than the alternative: blinding fear!
I go where he directs me and I even think maybe we’re going to the casino I hate so much. When we drive right past it, I suddenly don’t hate the place as much as I thought I would. At least the casino is known territory, vampiric sure, but known. Whatever this new place is he’s taking me to, it can’t be good. Vampires own so much property now and if he wants me dead, there’s countless places he can take me down without a single consequence.
That sends my heart pounding and my blood pumping. I wonder if he can smell it.
“You know, if I disappear the police will have to look into it,” I start to ramble, “I mean, I did just make a report against you.”
Compared to mine, his body is still as granite. I’m starting to shake. “And pointing this out will help your case, how?”
“They talk to the VEC and––”
“As I’ve said, I know all about your little report to the VEC,�
�� he cuts me off. “I am the VEC. And now I have shit to clean up in my own house.”
My throat goes dry. Of course, he is the VEC. I already knew that. “But if you’re the VEC then why are you so upset?”
“It’s myself and others.” He’s not gloating. He’s seething mad. And maybe a little annoyed. And possibly nervous. No, I’m totally picking up on my own fears and projecting them. No way is Adrianos-freaking-Teresi nervous. He’s just pissed off.
“Turn here.” He points to a shipping yard, and my stomach nearly drops to my butt. I stall the car at the stop sign, not wanting to go in there. From the looks of it, it’s not good. Places like these are where murder documentaries end, and I really don’t want to die tonight.
“I said turn.” He grabs the steering wheel and forces it to the left.
In we go.
We drive past huge shipping containers and the occasional ruffian, but otherwise the place is pretty dead. He maneuvers me through the narrow lanes until we reach a tiny parking lot by the black water’s edge. The reflection is so dark, all I can picture is spilled blood.
“Get out,” Adrian commands. I deflate, because this is it. This is really the end. Some small part of me was hoping I’d have an out by this point, but that’s impossible. Where would I go? How would I get away? It’s so remote out here, nobody will even hear me scream.
I don’t move. I can’t.
He throws open his door. “Get out or I will rip your throat out and feast on your corpse right here in this shitty car.”
That does the trick. I scurry from the car, and just as quickly, he’s at my side. His hand is an iron lock on my arm as he pulls me toward an empty dock.
“What are we doing here?” I croak. “This is it, isn’t it? You’re going to kill me and throw me in the river.” I’ll be out to the swamp and eaten by alligators before anyone can find my body. Of course, I’ll probably be drained of blood first. My mind races through the scenario, seeing it unravel in horrifying detail. My knees start to buckle and my body goes ice cold. I can practically taste the river water already. Or will his fangs ripping through my throat be the last experience of my life? I try to muster up some courage but it’s useless.
“Can you please relax? I’m not going to kill you but if your fear pheromones don’t let up soon I might not be able to help myself.”
“Oh…” I don’t know what to say to that. Neither of us speaks for a long minute. I will my heartbeat to slow and I take long quiet breaths that taste like nightfall.
“I have business to attend to,” he says at last. “And you’re going to watch.”
So I guess I’m not going to die, at least. I blink and look around, finally noticing the rainbow of lights of the classic New Orleans ferry against the surface of the water. I squint to look closer, and recognition hits me like a punch to the stomach. This isn’t just any old ferry. It’s the floating casino, a giant floating party that takes off after sunset every weekend night and doesn’t dock until the early morning hours. I hate it more than The Alabaster, even though I’ve never stepped foot on it, because it’s where Mom ends up in the most trouble with no one to save her.
Last summer we had a scare where she didn’t come home after going on one. She showed up two days later with a black eye and a drained bank account, refusing to tell me what happened. That day was the day I knew that things weren’t ever going to get better.
“You want me to go on there?” I frown. “I’m not old enough.”
He looks at me like I’m the world’s biggest idiot, and maybe I am, but sorry, I have no intention of stepping foot on that boat.
Adrian has other ideas. The casino boat honks its low horn and slows to a creep as it nears the edge of our dock. The noxious sound of music and gamblers in the throws of debauchery drifts over the water. It edges closer and closer, until it’s only a few feet from where we’re standing.
“After you,” Adrian demands.
Realizing I can’t fight this, I take a large step and practically jump onto the boat. Adrian is right behind me. We’re on––and the dock recedes quickly. The boat never even stopped.
I shouldn’t have taken that five thousand dollar bribe. Or maybe I should’ve taken it but not called the police. But I did both and here we are. I’d really hoped I’d never have to board this boat, but I guess there’s a first for everything. I glare at Adrian. “You don’t have to do this you know.”
“You’re right, Angel, I don’t.” He returns the glare. “But I want to.”
Chapter 8
I’m handed off straight away to the woman whom I immediately recognize as Adrian’s receptionist, Kelli. She’s dressed in a revealing velvety blood-red gown and is downright stunning, but her whole vampire-vibe makes my skin crawl even more than Adrian’s does. Nothing about her is warm or kind or welcoming. Nothing. She doesn’t speak a word as she directs me into a little dressing room and hands me what can only be described as clubbing attire: a tiny black mini skirt, disco ball sparkly halter top, and towering silver high heels to match.
I don’t bother arguing and quickly change out of my Pops uniform and into the ridiculous outfit. I run shaky hands through my long black hair and tell myself not to throw up and to be strong. At least the boat isn’t rocking too badly, or I really would lose the little staff dinner I ate earlier tonight.
“Where should I put these?” I lift up my clothes. My phone is tucked inside the bundle. Adrian still has my car keys. Kelli groans like I’m such a bother but hands me a tiny sparkly purse backpack and I shove everything inside.
“Can I pee? I haven’t gone in hours.”
Her eyebrows draw in on each other. Does she think I’m some kind of animal? Well, vampires probably don’t pee, so maybe I’m pathetic in her eyes, but at least I don’t drink blood. One of those things is considerably more disgusting as far as I’m concerned, thank you very much Miss 80’s Mean Girl. I suddenly have the idea to buy her a copy of the children’s book Everybody Poops and snort to myself.
“Quickly,” she snaps and points me to a tiny washroom.
I lock myself inside and consider prying open the window, leaping into the river, swimming to shore, and making a run for it. Total lunacy. Knowing my luck, I’d probably drown. And if I didn’t, Adrian would find me and then he really would rip out my throat and feast on my corpse. There’s nowhere safe I could go. I’d have to leave New Orleans entirely, but a vampire prince probably has enough power to hunt me down if he really wanted to. There’s no place to hide—the sun sets on every last corner of this planet. So instead of jumping, I take care of my business, wash my hands, and return to Kelli.
She looks like a Kelli and like she was turned in the eighties on account of her bad hair dye alone. It’s over-the-top brassy bleached blonde but slicked back into a high ponytail so it doesn’t look too bad. Vamps can’t change much about their appearance after they’re reborn, so Kelli’s bad hair color is stuck with her for eternity and I’m petty enough to care. Her eyes rove over me as if I’m a sad little wannabe and she’s the queen bee. Of course, she’s no queen, but there you go. “Hey, sweety, you’re a receptionist, so get off your high horse,” is what I want to say to her, but I would also like to live through the night.
“You don’t wear makeup?” She smirks.
“Uh, neither do you.”
“I haven’t needed it since 1990.” She tosses her shiny ponytail to the side. If she’s trying to rub her supernatural beauty in my face she doesn’t know me very well. “All human women should wear makeup though. Poor pathetic things.”
There’s that word, pathetic. I totally called it. I shrug. “Like I care?”
“You should.”
“I don’t.”
She raises an eyebrow, moving on from my makeup-free face to assessing my obvious lack of curves, but this time says nothing.
Whatever. I couldn’t care less what the leech thinks of me.
“Now what?” I ask, attitude sparking my question. She rolls her
eyes as if she’d like nothing more than to crush me under her thin red stiletto. I’m sure she could.
“You got me in trouble with Adrian, you know.” Her hazel eyes narrow. “Apparently, I was supposed to watch you or something, like I didn’t have other things to do than to babysit a teenager.”
Oh, so that explains the animosity. Noted.
“I would say sorry, but I’m not, and I don’t like to lie.”
Her eyes flash and her pupils dilate. Oh crap, is she going to eat me now?
“Why am I here?” I ask, changing the subject.
I can tell she wants to say more, but she smiles as if she would rather show me. She offers a smirky, “This way,” then escorts me to the casino floor.
For one thing, it’s smaller than The Alabaster. Much. But that’s to be expected considering this is a ferry and not a brick-and-mortar building with an additional hotel highrise attached to the back. It too, reeks of cigarette smoke and booze. And blood. Many of the windows are open to let in the breeze, so at least there’s that. It’s usually pretty muggy this time of night, and my hair sticks to my neck. The patrons are all dressed up, ignoring the humidity like it’s nothing. Fancy dress is part of the requirement for getting on the boat––the regular casino couldn’t care less. Either way, the patrons all have that sick sheen to their eyes that speaks of greed, and the pale pallor to their skin that screams of blood loss.
Unlike in The Alabaster, vampires are everywhere. Most have bloody cocktails in their hands, and some of them join in on the gambling. My stomach roils as I look around for Adrian.
I don’t see him, but bony shoulders and long auburn hair sure do catch my eye. Sitting at one of the Texas Hold’em tables with her back to me is my mother.
Has to be.
There isn’t a blood bag hooked up to her, but there may as well be because we don’t have the money to be here and, at this point, I’d almost rather her give blood than money we don’t have. Okay, not really, but I can’t believe this!