Blood Wyne

Page 15

“Order up, Chryssie.”
She hustled over and picked up the tray, stopping to point toward one of the back booths.
“Wade. He’s stil here.”
I nodded, thinking I should clean up a little. I was covered with dust and cobwebs from the basement jaunt down the Hal way of Hel . But vanity took second place to thinking that if I didn’t get over there, Wade wouldn’t get Roman’s message and might just end up on the wrong side of a stake.
He was sitting in the booth, reading a book, wearing black leather pants, only this time they were real leather—not PVC. And the glasses were gone, but they’d been for show only. His shirt was a neat button-down crimson number, and his hair was shocking platinum and feathered in an edgy cut. Kind of reminded me of Delilah’s new do, actual y, except hers was back to golden instead of white-gold.
“Wade.” I stood beside the booth for a moment as he jerked his nose out of the book and stared at me. I couldn’t tel whether he was scowling or whether it was bewilderment. Either way, I couldn’t just stand here al night. I slid into the booth and leaned back, gauging his reaction.
He dog-eared the corner of the book, folding it precisely, before he closed the paperback and slid it back into his bag. “What do you need, Menol y?” His voice was smooth, no longer the happy-go-lucky vampire—if any vamp can be cal ed that—I’d first met at Vampires Anonymous.
“I’ve got a message for you. I wouldn’t bother you—I know what your opinion of me is right now
—but this is important. Bear in mind, I could have ignored it. I could have just walked away and let nature take its course.” I propped my elbows on the table, resting my chin on my hands.
“Okay, you’ve made your point. You’re doing me a favor. What is it?”
“If you don’t withdraw from the elections, there’l be a big red bul ’s-eye painted on your heart and a stake fol owing through to dust you.”
Al sound fel away as Wade’s eyes grew red and his fangs began to descend. “Are you threatening me?”
I shook my head, the beads in my hair making a faint clicking sound, like bones rattling. “Get real. I haven’t got the time or the desire to start a personal little war. And I’m not involved in the elections anymore, am I? Thanks to you, I have no place in the current race. No, Wade, this comes from higher up than me. From higher up than you.”
With a sul en look, he asked, “Are you working for Terrance?”
The question hit me like gasoline on flame. “Are you a fucking idiot? I’m the one who wanted you to take Terrance down, to dust him. But no . . . you refused. Or you couldn’t. Believe me, I want to see Terrance out of the gene pool, too, and he wil be if things work out right. But if you stay in the race, I guarantee that you’re going to meet the sharp end of a long stick and I won’t be able to help you then. It wil be out of my hands. I’ve been given a chance to warn you. I didn’t have to do it.”
Wade’s eyes lingered on my face. “I believe you. You wouldn’t work for Terrance. And you don’t want to run for the office yourself. Who’s pul ing your strings? It’s got to be somebody higher up.”
“I can’t tel you, but I am tel ing you that if you want to save your fucking life, you’l withdraw from the election. Believe me, what you think you’re fighting for isn’t what you’re real y fighting for.
Honestly.” I leaned back in the booth and crossed my arms. The bal was in his court.
Wade wasn’t stupid. He cocked his head to one side. “It wasn’t Sassy that put you up to this. It has to be someone with power. Someone with enough power to make you jump. Who could that be . . .” He began to run over names in his head—I could see the wheels turning—and then stopped. “No. Not him.”
I kept my mouth shut. Roman hadn’t given me permission to drop his name. And name-dropping with vampires wasn’t just tacky, it could be deadly. “I promise you, Terrance won’t gain the position.”
Pul ing a couple packets of sugar from the tray on the table, Wade played with them, snapping them together as if he were going to pour them in a cup of coffee. After another moment, he said,
“I’l let you know. I’l cal you tomorrow night with my answer. Now, you said we have a vampire serial kil er on the loose? I saw the reports on the news. Bad scene, if it’s real.”
“Oh, it’s real al right. I’ve seen the victims, and I found one of them. Hey”—I pointed to his hand
—“put the sugar down unless you’re planning on eating it, and since I know just how sick you’d get, please don’t. I don’t need you vomiting blood al over my bar.”
He tossed the packets at me. “This is bad. For al of us. What are the details?”
“He—and it is a he—targets young women, FBHs, under thirty-five, with long brown hair. They’re al average build, a little curvy, and average height. Hair is straight, bone structure delicate. The victims could be related by looks. Al exsanguinated. Raped. I found a cross drawn on the forehead in water on one of them. We’re thinking he’s a newly coined vampire, either that or something triggered him off a couple weeks ago.”
As I ticked off the salient points, it occurred to me that Wade had lived in Seattle al his life.
“What do you know about the Greenbelt Park District?”
“Stay away from there. Bad energy. Lots of reported hauntings. When I was around twelve, I rode my bike too far from home and ended up near there. It was late afternoon and rainy. I ducked into one of the abandoned buildings for cover and was hiding from the rain until I saw a shadow move against the opposite wal . There was nothing to make the shadow—that I could see clearly enough—and it was coming toward me. I ran out of there so fast I tripped and broke a tooth. My mother found out where I’d been and freaked. She’d heard the stories.”
I suppressed a grin. His mother was a piece of work and one of the main reasons I’d given up on dating him. She was also a vampire, and she hung around his neck like an albatross. Think George Costanza’s mother off Seinfeld combined with Fran’s mother off The Nanny, and you have Belinda Stevens. Oh yeah, she was a piece of work, al right.
“How is your mother?” I couldn’t help it. The words just slipped out.
He arched one eyebrow and then broke into a short laugh. “Luckily, she’s currently obsessed with putting together a moonlight garden club, no less, of matronly vampire women. Not many takers, especial y since it’s winter, but she’s managed to find a few members. They currently play bridge every Thursday night and cultivate night-blooming indoor plants, I guess.”
Snorting, I gave him a shrug. Things almost felt back to normal between us. “At least it’s a hobby.”
“Yeah, I guess. So what do you need to catch this freak?”
“Any information you have on vampires around the Greenbelt Park District. Any info on new vamps to the area. Or someone in the life who had a traumatic event happen a couple weeks ago that could have triggered their behavior.” Suddenly feeling conciliatory, I reached out one hand.
“Wade, I miss you as a friend. I miss the VA. I’m stil terribly hurt by what you did.”
He stared at my hand then slowly took it, his skin cool against my own. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.
“I’ve wanted this so much—the Regency. But if you’re tel ing me the truth—and I believe you are—
then there’s no way I’l live to ascend to the position. I just don’t want Terrance to win. He would hurt our standing with the breathers so badly.”
“I know he would, but he isn’t going to make it. Trust me. I’m . . . I’m involved in making sure he doesn’t.” That was as much as I could say, but Wade squeezed my hand and then softly let go.
“As I said, I need to think about it, but I’l have an answer for you tomorrow.” He paused, then asked, “Are you happy? Do you have . . . someone?”
I broke out in a wide grin. “The best girlfriend I ever could have. See?” Holding up my hand, I flashed the gold promise ring. “We’re bound. And . . . it looks like I’ve got another playmate on the side, but I can’t talk about that right now.”
Wade nodded. “I know who you’re talking about. I won’t ask.” He was sliding out of the booth, about to head toward the door, when it occurred to me I should talk to him about Sassy.
“One more thing. We have a problem with Sassy.” I quickly ran down what Erin had told me.
Wade’s soft smile turned to a dark frown. “Oh no, not Sassy. But it doesn’t surprise me. She quit the VA, you know, when I kicked you out. But even before then, I was starting to sense an edge to her. I’m afraid we’ve lost her.”
“She made me promise that if she ever slipped into her predator . . .” I left the thought unfinished, but Wade picked up the thread.
Bloody tears formed at the corners of his eyes and he squeezed them shut. “Oh, Menol y. Did you promise?”
I nodded.
“Then you have to fol ow through. Sassy wouldn’t like her memory to be sul ied with the blood of the innocent. If she were in her right mind . . .” He said no more, but his look told me al I needed to know. I pressed my lips together, raised one hand in farewel , and watched him walk out of the bar.
It was too late to cal Ivana, so I made sure Erin was doing okay—she was busy dusting and mopping floors and seemed bright-eyed and happy—and then decided it was time to face Sassy.
Seeking out Chrysandra, I told her, “I’l be back in a while, but probably not before we close. I’ve got one other pressing errand to run. Keep an eye on things and if you need help, Tavah’s in the basement.”
As I dashed out to my Jag, it occurred to me that I missed spending more time behind the counter of the bar. It suited me, and I felt at home serving customers and listening to sad tales, even though most of the time I was rol ing my eyes when they couldn’t see me. But right now, I had darker matters to attend to. I pul ed out of my parking space and headed over to Sassy’s house, trying not to think about the coming confrontation.
Sassy Branson. Socialite. Old money inherited from her beloved husband’s death. Out-of-the-closet lesbian. Vampire. And until recently, a staunch supporter of Vampires Anonymous.
Oh, we al had our own version of what innocent victim meant, but until recently, Sassy had fed exclusively on volunteers and blood bank blood. Now, she’d crossed the line.
A memory flashed through my mind, of a conversation from some months back when I was sitting in her living room, talking with her.
“Why haven’t you gone hunting?”
Sassy cleared her throat. I looked up at her. She held my gaze.
“I’ve started to enjoy it too much. I’m slipping. Just a little, Menolly, but it scares me silly.
That’s why Erin’s good for me. She reminds me of how important training is. Helping her helps me.” She hesitated, then continued. “I want you to promise me something. I don’t have any family, so consider it payment for helping Erin. Down the line.”
I knew what she was going to ask, because I’d made Camille promise me the same thing. “If the time comes, I promise you. I’ll be quick. You won’t suffer, and you won’t make anybody else suffer.”
Shutting out the memory of my promise, I swung into the driveway, stopping at the gated entrance. Sassy’s mansion was in the Green Lake area—far from the shadowy Greenbelt Park District—and it was truly a mansion.
I opened my window and reached out to press the intercom button. After a moment, Sassy herself answered, which was unusual. Janet, Sassy’s lifelong maid and assistant, always manned the intercom.
“Yes? Who is it?” She sounded suspicious, but that could just be me projecting my worries on her.
“Menol y. I need to talk to you, Sassy.”
After what seemed like an age, the gate clicked and slowly swung open. I silently drove through, staring at the lights gleaming out of the huge house set back on two acres. As I approached, I thought I saw a figure running from the house, into the woods, but I could have been mistaken. I jumped out of the car and fished around in the trunk for something I’d hoped I’d never have to use.
Cautiously, I slid the stake into my boot.
Sassy answered the door—also usual y Janet’s duty. But if Janet was bedridden, then perhaps Sassy hadn’t bothered to find someone to step in for her. I slipped inside, glancing around automatical y. The foyer was as tidy as ever . . . wel , no. Not quite. There were spots on the floor that looked like dried blood—smal ones, drips. And the console table was dusty; the plants looked like they were drooping from lack of water.
I gazed at Sassy. She’d dyed her hair jet black, and a little stream of the dye had stained her temple. That wouldn’t come off—dye a vamp’s skin with permanent hair dye and it stayed that way. Her clothing was stil designer but was stained with blood and what looked like lipstick. The smel of unwashed silk and linen rose to envelop her. But most tel ing were her eyes—the intensity was too bright, too glittering. And her fangs were down. She looked hungry, ready to hunt.
I hadn’t seen her for a couple of months, and now was shocked to see just how far she’d slipped. I could see it in her eyes, in her movements, in the way she licked her lips when she looked at me.
“Where’s Janet?” I motioned for Sassy to fol ow me into the parlor. She did, no longer graceful in her movements.
My question seemed to bring her back to herself, for a couple of minutes at least. “She’s upstairs,” she said, her eyes blurring with bloody tears. “Fol ow me.”