Blood Street

by Alves, Carl

  “Yeah, so what?”

  “If you’re willing to believe in God, the devil, and saints, then why is it so hard to believe in vampires? There are lots of things we have no explanation for.”

  “Because God and Satan, you know, those are things that exist in the afterlife. I’m talkin’ about the here and now in South Philly, and there ain’t no vampires.”

  “Vampires aren’t a concept some movie director invented. There are versions of these creatures reported in regions separated by distance, religion and culture. Most major cultures have tales of vampires. It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “She makes a good point,” Enzo said. “Why would all these different cultures have stories about the undead?”

  “Come on, Enzo. Don’t tell me you’re falling for this crap.”

  “No. Vampires are just old fables designed to scare primitive people. The serial killer we’re dealing with is truly demented.”

  “Thank God,” Tony said. “I was starting to get worried.”

  “Back to your point. I’m fully confident about our deal with Andrews. I could see it in the man’s eyes when we were talking. He’s like an addict, and his addiction is catching this murderer.”

  “I’ll follow you wherever you lead me. I know those guys acted like you were nuts, but the other captains will back you. I just hope it’s all worth it.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Gabriella glanced at the photo in her wallet, then stared at the man at the bar. He was short, balding and overweight. His cheap blue suit accentuated his appearance. She had been searching for him for the past week.

  As she stepped into the bar, heads turned and men ignored the women they were with. She was used to that reaction. She sat at an open spot at the bar, ten feet from Jack Williams.

  Jack stared at her in his not so subtle way as she ordered her drink. She made eye contact with him. The man practically drooled. How classy.

  She got up and sat on the open stool next to Jack and introduced herself. “I finished my drink. Would you like to buy me another?”

  “Uh, sure. Of course. How about we sit at that table?”

  Gabriella went to the table as Jack got their drinks. She engaged him in small talk, pretending she was interested in what he had to say.

  “So, Jack, do you have a wife you’re hiding back home?”

  “No. I’ve been searching, but I haven’t found a woman who has captured my heart.”

  Gabriella smiled at his lie.

  “What I need is a great gal like you.” Jack ordered another gin and tonic. “So, Gabriella, that’s a pretty exotic name. You must not be from around here.”

  “I was born in Spain.”

  “I have important clients in Spain. I travel around the world quite a bit with my job.”

  “Is that right?” Another lie. Jack Williams told her he was a marketing manager for a pharmaceutical company. She knew he peddled insurance.

  “Yeah, I fly to different countries to meet clients. I’m hoping to do more teleconferencing in the future. Still, you can’t beat those frequent flyer miles, let me tell you, and it’s a good idea to get close to the customer. So do you have a significant other?”

  “I did, but he died.”

  Jack recoiled, sweat beading down his forehead. The man's hygiene left much to be desired. “Well, um, sorry to hear that. You know what they say, you gotta get back on the old horse.”

  She took another sip of her drink and held his hand.

  “You probably get this a lot, but you’re a real looker.”

  “Not really,” Gabriella said. “I don’t meet many people.”

  “Well, I’m all ya need. I have a certain way with women. I treat them like angels.”

  “I can tell.”

  Jack looked at his fake Rolex. “I was thinking we could go somewhere more private. There’s a hotel downtown I like to go to. Maybe you and I could get to know each other better.”

  “I thought you weren’t married.”

  Jack smiled. “No ring on this finger. My condo's being renovated, so this'll be more cozy.”

  She leaned back and crossed her legs. “I’d love to.”

  He paid the bar tab, leaving no tip. They got into his beat-up Pontiac Bonneville. Gabriella held her comments that this was hardly the car a marketing manager of a multinational pharmaceutical company would drive.

  During the drive, Jack bored her with false stories of major deals he brokered in the business world.

  They parked in a garage and walked toward the seedy hotel lobby. She stayed behind while he checked in, but remained close enough to listen to the conversation.

  “Charlie, I picked up the most amazing babe ever,” Jack said. “I’m talking off the charts. Hook me up with my special room.”

  Charlie, the beak-faced clerk, had a stupid grin. “No kidding. I gotta check her out. You’re in luck. I have a bottle of wine you can take up to the room.”

  “You’re the best.”

  Jack met her outside and led her up the elevator toward room 313. He took out the bottle of red wine, poured two glasses and handed her one. “You know, I don’t do this often. Most of the time, I’m flying around the world. It’s hard to find a meaningful relationship, but I think that might change.”

  “Jack, I have a confession to make. I’ve been following you. It wasn’t by chance we met tonight. I thought you might be there, and I had to see you.”

  Jack nearly tipped over his glass. “Really?”

  “Now that we’re here, I can hardly wait.” Gabriella ripped his shirt open.

  “Woh, aren’t you aggressive.” Jack put his glass down.

  She kissed his chest and bit his shoulder.

  “Ow, that hurt.”

  “You don’t mind, do you? I like it rough.”

  “I can take it.”

  Before he could react, Gabriella gave him a backhand slap to the face. His head jerked back in a whip-like motion.

  He touched his face and glared at her. “What the hell was that?”

  Gabriella winked. “I was just getting in the mood. We can stop if you like.”

  “No, I can play that way. You’re nothing like I thought you would be.”

  “You can’t judge a book by its cover. For instance, by looking at you, I would never guess that you like to beat up women.”

  Jack stepped back. “What are you talking about?”

  “You left Katie a real mess. And you nearly killed your first wife, you sick bastard. Then there was Susie, Dianna and Alicia, other women you abused. I’ve done a little investigating.” She punched him in the ribs with such hand-speed that he could not defend himself. He dropped to a knee, clutching his ribs and gasping for breath.

  “You’re a real piece of work, Jack. Physically, I find you unattractive, but inside, you’re truly repulsive. I’ve been following you from afar ever since I saw the court proceedings when you pleaded no contest to beating your wife. God only knows why she still lives with you. Since the court system did not provide justice, I will.”

  Jack groaned.

  She grabbed a fistful of his hair and tilted up his head. “I have contacts in the police force, and through them I saw the court photos of your wife. It looked like she had been run over by a Mack truck. You tore her left retina, separated her shoulder, broke her jaw, and knocked out her teeth. As if that wasn’t bad enough, you ripped most of her hair out of her scalp, you filthy animal.”

  Gabriella glared at him. “I looked deeper into your background. At the time of your separation from your ex-wife, she had cigarette burns all over her body. At the divorce proceedings, she said that if she did not leave, you’d kill her.”

  Jack staggered to his feet. “You crazy bitch!” He balled his hands into fists, but before he could strike, she kicked him in the groin, causing him to crumple to the floor. She waited until he rose and then punched his face repeatedly until blood covered her hands. She licked the blood off and smiled.

  He yelled incohe
rently, spitting blood, and stepped toward her. He lunged at her, but she deftly sidestepped him. When he turned, she clawed his neck, tearing flesh. Before he could scream, she covered his mouth with her free hand. She sank her teeth into his throat and closed her eyes, relishing the taste of blood. She pulled back and snapped his neck. She wanted to give him no pleasure, only pain. He was not worthy of her seductive gift.

  She crossed her arms, tilted her head back and licked her lips. Regardless of how despicable the victim was, it was still sweet, delicious, life-sustaining blood. Gabriella only fed on the worst of society: rapists, child molesters, murderers and other predators. It started when she was living in Lisbon. For weeks she hunted down and finally killed a serial rapist that had eluded the Portuguese police. Since then she had become an amateur sleuth.

  After cleaning up in the bathroom, she gathered his body and wrapped it in the bed sheets. She bundled him and scanned the floor for blood. There had been some splatter from when she had smashed his nose, but otherwise she had been careful to consume most of it.

  She looked for soap and a towel to clean up the blood when footsteps sounded.

  “What the hell’s going on here?” the front desk clerk yelled.

  Gabriella stopped moving, hoping he would go away. She listened to his fast beating heart and heavy breathing. Damn. The man wasn’t about to leave.

  Gabriella’s eyes opened wide at the click of a shotgun. She had seen what happened to another of her kind who had been shot with a shotgun. It took him months of deep sleep to recover from the wound.

  She dashed into the bathroom when the clerk opened the door. He walked into the room, shotgun in hand.

  “What the…”

  Before he could finish his sentence, she jumped out of the bathroom and landed a clean blow to the back of the head. He crashed onto the carpeted floor. She bent down and felt for a pulse. He was still alive. She bared her fangs and lowered her mouth to his neck, but pulled back, sweat dripping from her brow.

  No. She had just fed. She had to control her urges. Years ago she had decided to feed only on those who deserved it. Although this guy was a scumbag, he had done no wrong.

  Keeping a close eye on the clerk, she went to the window and waited until the streets were empty. After a few minutes, she raised the window, put Jack's body over her shoulder, jumped down three flights and landed on her feet. The street was clear of people and traffic. She moved quickly to the parking garage. Using keys from Jack’s pants pocket, she opened the trunk of his car and dumped his body.

  She drove to an unused quarry near the Delaware border, where she weighted the body down and threw it deep in the quarry, hoping no one would find him soon.

  Tonight, Jack Williams provided her not only with nourishment and an opportunity for justice, but a diversion. Tensions were mounting between Alexei and Magnus. The strain of playing the role of the peacemaker was wearing on her. She wanted the others to live harmoniously, but their tenuous relationships were fracturing with little chance of mending.

  After dumping the body, she drove back in Jack’s Bonneville. She abandoned the car at an alley off of Sansom Street and took a cab home.

  When she arrived, Magnus was hunched over the oblong kitchen table writing in his journal. “How did it go?”

  Gabriella sat next to him. “Well. I disposed of the body discretely. It should be some time before anyone recovers it.”

  “How was he?”

  “Tasty. What an overbearing jerk. How were women ever attracted to him?”

  “There’s no accounting for taste,” Magnus said. “At least there’s one less piece of human filth out there. So who’s your next target?”

  “I’m not sure. Kristoff was telling me about the victim of a good candidate at a woman’s shelter.”

  “The streets will be safer for the mortals with you around. How ironic.”

  “And how are things with you?” Gabriella asked.

  “I contacted an antique dealer in New Hope. I’m looking to purchase a gargoyle statue for the front gate. The outside is rather drab.”

  Magnus swept her into his powerful arms and lifted her off her feet. He twirled her around gracefully and dipped her. “Do you remember that time in Monte Carlo when we entered the dance floor at the ball thrown for Prince Constantine? All eyes were on us. They couldn’t stop staring.”

  Gabriella smiled. “Even the Prince was transfixed.”

  “Wherever we went, everyone was envious of us.” Magnus brushed his lips against hers. “Sometimes I miss those days and wish we could once more tour the world and create our mark among the social elite, just the two of us.”

  “I know, but I care deeply for the others.”

  “As do I. Heinrich always puts me in a good mood. Kristoff has an impressive presence about him considering his young age. Magdalena is a siren. Still, I wouldn’t complain if it were just the two of us.”

  “Perhaps someday,” Gabriella said.

  “No matter who else is in the Brood, you are always first with me. As long as I have you, I’ll be happy.”

  Gabriella leaned against his chest. “And you’ll always be first in my heart.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Your tired eyes need to rest.” Magnus lifted her into his arms and carried her to her room.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Stacy’s hot for me,” Vinnie said.

  “She ain’t hot for you,” Tony Giordano yelled over the blaring music at Club Egypt. “You always say that whenever a girl talks to you. I’d watch out if I were you. Rita’ll tear your balls off if you hit on her.”

  Vinnie shrugged as he drank his Seven and Seven.

  “I’ll tell you what, Stacy has one sweet rack,” Mike Tarracone said. “I wouldn’t mind taking a swing at her.”

  “Too bad you only got a Wiffle bat,” Vinnie said, getting a laugh out of Tony.

  Mike smirked. “That’s not what your old lady says. She told me I’m packing two tons of dynamite.”

  “Yeah, with a one-inch fuse. If anyone’s getting a piece of Stacy’s ass, it’s me.” Vinnie pointed at his chest. “She’s outta your league.”

  They quieted when the ladies returned from the bathroom.

  “Hey, where’s my beer?” Vinnie asked his girlfriend Rita.

  “You got two feet,” Rita said. “You can go to the bar and get it yourself. Last time I checked, I don’t have a leash around my neck or a ring around my finger.”

  “Always with the attitude,” Vinnie said. “What’s with you? I take you out and show you a good time, and all you do is break my balls.”

  “I was going to the bar anyway,” Mike said. “I’ll get drinks. No need to have a domestic situation here. What would you like, Stacy?”

  Rita put her hands on her hips. “You can’t boss me around.”

  “I ain’t bossin’ you around.” Vinnie scowled. “I just asked you to get me a beer since you were up.”

  “You can get me a Margarita—frozen.” Stacy batted her eyelashes.

  “Anything you want, baby,” Mike said.

  “Take me home,” Rita said to Vinnie.

  “Take you home?” Vinnie’s face reddened. “We just fucking got here. You was beggin’ me to take you out, now you want me to go home. Make up your fucking mind!”

  Mike smiled at Stacy as he sauntered toward the bar. She wanted to hook up with him. It was obvious. If only Vinnie and his woman would stop arguing. They were driving him nuts. They looked like they might come to blows, and he didn’t want to get in the middle of it. Vinnie had a hot temper, and Rita’s was worse.

  As he neared the bar, he froze when he saw a guy with long blond hair. He knew that guy. Damn, he shouldn’t have taken those pain pills. Now his head wasn’t straight. Where the hell had he seen him before? He pulled out the sheet of paper from his jacket, then eyed the blond dude at the bar. It was Alexei, the Vampire Killer.

  “Holy shit.” Earlier that day, Tony Scrambolgni had told him and the members of his crew to
keep a lookout for this guy. He reached for his piece before putting it back. He couldn’t shoot him here. They were supposed to notify Tony if they saw Alexei.

  He forgot about the drinks and walked back to his friends, keeping his eyes on Alexei. He called out to Vinnie and Tony.

  Tony, who was hitting on Stacy, glared at him. “What the fuck do you want?”

  Mike motioned with his head. “This is important. Now!”

  Tony frowned, while Vinnie appeared to be relieved to escape from Rita.

  “What’s so damn important?” Tony asked.

  Mike took out the drawing. “The Vampire Killer. He’s by the bar.”

  Tony’s eyes went wide. “Son of a bitch.”

  “Let’s pop the bastard,” Vinnie said.

  Mike grabbed his arm. “No. The Wop told us to call him first.”

  Vinnie shrugged. “We call him and then we’ll pop him.”

  The Wop’s stomach growled as he smelled the fresh macaroni, Italian sausage, roasted peppers and broccoli rabe his gumar was cooking. He couldn’t wait. First his gumar would feed him, and then she would satisfy his sexual appetite.

  Tony Scrambolgni was proud of his nickname, The Wop. He had been doing time in Rahway State Prison for armed robbery. It was what an inmate had called him just before he knifed the guy. Since then he wore it like a badge of honor.

  He needed to relax. He had too much on his plate. Besides the Vampire Killer, he was dealing with a dispute with the New Jersey syndicate over a shipyard contract.

  When his phone rang, he didn’t want to answer. Dinner was almost ready, and he was famished. He closed his eyes as the scent wafted into his nostrils. He cursed after the phone rang for the third time.

  “Yeah.”

  “Hey, this is Mike Tarracone. I’m over here at Egypt with Vinnie and Tony.”

  “Yeah, what do you want me to do about it?”

  “We saw the guy who you told us to look for.”

  Tony nearly dropped his phone. “Where?”

  “Here at the bar.”

  The Wop ran his fingers through his thinning hair.

  “You want us to do the job?” Mike asked.