Darkling

Page 4

Robert trembled as I showed him the bullets before squeezing them into crumpled bits of slag. I tossed them down the sewer grate next to where he was sitting. The gun followed as I bent the bars on the grating just enough to slip it through, then bent them back.
I leaned over him. "You shouldn't play with toys that go boom," I said, trailing one finger down his cheek, my nail scratching the skin ever so slightly. "You might hurt somebody. You might even kill someone."
The terror in his eyes mirrored the scent of fear on his skin and I let out a little gasp as a wave of desire raced through me.
"Tell me, Robert, what were you going to do to the girl? Just what kind of party did you have planned for her?" As I felt the pounding tattoo of his heart, my hunger began to grow, deep and coiling out from the dark swirl of bloodlust that had been part of my nature since Dredge forced my mouth to his wrist as I was breathing my last.
I yanked Robert to his feet and slammed him against the wall. "And don't even think of lying to me. I'll know if you do. Let one false word slip through those lips and it's good night, my friend." I was stretching the truth there a bit—I wasn't really a magical lie detector—but he wouldn't know that. He was so nervous already that he was ready to piss his pants. His pheromones were hopping like jumping beans.
He cleared his throat. "All right, all right! You know what we were going to do—"
"No. I want you to say it. I want you to admit it."
"Fine, bitch," he said. "You want to know? You want to watch, maybe? We were going to fuck her brains out, then put her to work."
"You're a two-bit pimp, aren't you?" I had nothing against hookers, but I hated pimps with a passion. They were nothing but extortionists. "So you were going to rape her, then sell her on the streets. And that would put a stop to any hope she ever had for a normal life."
"He's also a drug dealer," Iris said, holding up a bag full of tablets that were half black, half white. "Z-fen. The newest drug in town. Used by ravers, date rape gurus, and sex addicts. Reduces inhibitions, causes blackouts. A lot more dangerous than Ecstasy ever was. Addictive and an overdose disaster waiting to happen."
I narrowed my eyes. "How on earth did you find out about that?"
She shrugged. "Saw a program about them on Night Talk with Carly Ivers not long ago. Apparently they're chewable and taste like mint. Makes it easier for the dealers to get kids hooked that way."
I let out a harsh laugh. "Robert, Robert… what am I going to do with you and your friend? I'll bet you make a habit of convincing runaways that you'll protect them, don't you? After you con your marks into going to yaw parties, you get them high and let your buddies play fuck-and-suck?"
His eyes told me everything I didn't want to know.
"The kids won't fight because they're drugged," I continued. "Then it's easy for you put them on the streets, sit back, and collect their money, providing enough drugs to keep them addicted. They keep working. You beat them if they try to run away. You use them when you're horny." I'd seen his kind all too often during the night, when I prowled looking for dinner. The seamy underside to a beautiful city.
He squeezed his eyes closed, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed a wad of fear. "What are you going to do to me? You a cop?"
I glanced at Iris who leaned against the wall, her arms folded to keep herself warm. She shrugged. "Whatever you like," she said. "We need to get home pretty soon but…"
As I turned back to Robert, I thought over what I should do with him. My guess was that he'd done a lot more with that gun than just point it at people. "How many kids you got turning tricks? How many people have you shot?"
Robert was starting to fade. "Jesus, lady, just arrest me or something."
Suddenly tired of the grime and the gloom, I tossed him against the bricks again. "How many in your stable?"
Rubbing his throat, he deflated like a pricked balloon. "Four boys and fifteen girls. What else do you want to know? And if you're not a cop, what the fuck are you doing? Playing superhero?"
The self-righteous tone in his voice gnawed at me. I motioned to Iris. "Give me those pills, then take the girl out to the street. The two of you wait there for me." After they were gone, I turned back to my new buddy. "Superhero? I prefer to think of myself as a blade of justice," I said, opening the bag.
His gaze darted nervously toward the end of the alley but I held up one finger. "Look at me," I said, freeing the glamour that I usually held in check. Between my half-Fae blood and my magnetism that came with being a vamp, I could charm just about anybody. And they always obeyed, willing or not. Unable to resist, Robert gave up the fight and gazed into my eyes.
"Hush," I whispered, and he fell silent. As I searched for any sign of remorse, a shroud of energy flared around him. Like tendrils of a sickly vine, it crept out from his body, searching for fresh meat.
"You know," I said softly. "I'm a vampire." I opened my mouth to show him my fangs and he tried to pull away but the thrall wouldn't allow him to move. "The thing is, you see," I continued, "you're a vampire, too. You don't feed on blood, but you suck young girls and boys dry, feeding on their bodies by selling them to others. Don't you?"
He nodded like a good boy.
"Yes, that's right, it's always best to tell the truth. But you know there's an important difference between us. Unlike me, it doesn't take much to kill you."
Robert began to shake, shivering as the lust swirled thick between us, but I didn't want him enjoying himself. I could make the experience incredibly sensuous, or I could make it exquisitely painful. For Robert, there would be no sweet kiss of death.
I wasn't thirsty, but his street prowling days were done. I wanted him to know fear, to know what it felt like to be a victim before I kicked him off the wheel of life. If I handed him over to the cops, he'd be out in no time because no one in his stable would dare rat on him. Robert struggled but I pressed him back against the wall.
"Hold still," I whispered, and he froze. A bead of sweat dripped from his brow to land on my forehead but I ignored it as I pressed my lips to his neck. I slowly licked the skin. He trembled and I could feel his erection pressing against me, but then his arousal faded as I sank my teeth into his neck and began to lap as the blood spurted in my mouth.
It ran down my throat like liquid fire. Sweet honey and wine, I thought, my mind buzzing as I drank to soothe my frayed nerves. A wave of relaxation and desire rippled through my body. It was always rough on me after feeding—I wanted to fuck, and fuck hard, but it would be a cold day in hell before I screwed any of the perverts I fed on, and I refused to turn on my friends and use them to satisfy myself. And there was always the memory of Dredge's hands that held me back, that made me shy away from intimate encounters.
This was what the FBH vamp-wannabes were looking for—this sensual communion. But most of them couldn't handle it, most weren't strong enough to withstand the madness that came with losing yourself to the bloodlust. So I kept myself in check, waiting for the day when I could find a partner to match my passion and strength, and with whom I could feel safe.
As Robert weakened, I gave one last lick to his neck and stood back. I held out the bag of pills.
"Eat," I said. He whimpered, but I gave him a smoldering look. "If you don't, I'll make you beg me for death," I said. "Do you really want to go out screaming on your belly?"
Without a word, he began popping the pills. I waited until he'd eaten about thirty and then turned my attention to his buddy. I yanked the man off the ground and jammed a handful of pills in his mouth. He was barely conscious, but began to chew when I pressed my hand over his mouth and refused to let him spit them out. I kept on until the pills were gone.
My task done, I stepped back. Robert was struggling, his hand around his throat. His friend wasn't faring any better. So much for a couple more wack jobs. I wiped my mouth, took a moment to calm down. When my fangs had retracted, I joined Iris and the girl, who were waiting around the corner.
"You don't have to worry. They won't ever bother you again," I said. "Now, how about a name?"
She blinked, looking bewildered. "Anna-Linda. Anna-Linda Thomas. I'm from Oregon."
The girl probably thought life up here would be better. I tried to gauge her age. She looked sixteen, but my guess was closer to twelve. "How old are you? And tell me the truth."
She ducked her head and stared at her sneakers. "Thirteen."
Iris stepped in. "Why don't we take her home for the night? She can eat dinner and sleep, and then tomorrow we'll sort everything out."
I glanced at the girl's face. No guile, just pure stupid naivety. "Come on," I said. "You'll be safe for the night. I give you my word of honor."
Iris's presence seemed to calm her down and she followed us docilely. Iris whispered in a voice that I could hear but the girl couldn't, "You okay?"
I nodded.
"Robert and his friend?"
"Forever asleep," I said, heading for the parking garage.
With Anna-Linda a few paces behind her, Iris swung in step with me. "Tell me something."
"What is it?"
We stopped at the light, waiting for the signal to cross. When we were on the other side of the street, the parking garage in sight, Iris softly said, "Camille once mentioned something about being worried about you drinking demon's blood. That it might change you or hurt you. What about the blood of murderers, rapists, wife beaters? Does it taste different—or have any bad effects—on you?"
I frowned. Now that she mentioned it, I could see how they might think that way. "The demons' blood I'm still concerned about. They're a breed apart and things are very different with their genetics. I have no idea what drinking from them has done to me. But with humans? Blood is blood. If they're diseased in body, it won't affect me. Viruses can't live in me. And as far as anything else… well, the taint is in the soul, not the blood. Blood is pure. It sings, but not with their sins."
Iris nodded and we entered the garage. As we bundled Anna-Linda in the back of my sleek, black XJ Jag, the girl immediately leaned her head against the side window. Within less than a minute, she'd fallen asleep.
I slid into the driver's seat.
Iris gave me a sideways glance. "Thanks."
"For what?" I started the ignition and eased out onto the road, heading north to our house on the northwest corner of the Belles-Faire district. We had about twenty minutes till we got there.
"For being you. For caring. For doing something." She grinned then and threw back her head, laughing.
"Well, thank you," I said, feeling suddenly lighthearted. Sometimes Iris understood me better than my sisters did. "You're pretty handy in a pinch, too, you know that?"
"Indeed I do." She snickered, and we changed the subject as I popped in a CD of Hoist's The Planets.
As we neared the turnoff leading to the road that led to our house, I wondered what Delilah and Camille would have to say about Anna-Linda. And what would Anna-Linda say about them? It was going to be interesting to find out.
CHAPTER 3
By the time we arrived home it was almost two-thirty, but the house was blazing with light. Our home, a three-story Victorian, had a full basement where I lived. The house was a wondrous old white elephant, as Mother used to say. Our mother had taught us a lot about customs and expressions Earthside, and we'd taken every scrap of information to heart. Unlike my sisters, who were content to live at home in Otherworld, I'd always secretly longed to visit Earthside, with all its exotic technology and customs. Now that I'd been here about a year, I wasn't sure what I thought.
Our acreage was bordered on three sides by a thick copse of woodland. One side led into the wild wood, with a trail meandering down to Birchwater Pond. The other two ended at boundary lines midforest dividing our land from the land of other homeowners. Everybody in this area had at least three to five acres, most of which had wisely been left undeveloped.
The house itself was old enough to be affordable, yet still new enough not to need major repairs. Delilah's suite of rooms was on the third floor, Camille took the second, we shared the main story, and I, of course, had the basement. Iris lived with us and had a cozy nook off the kitchen where she comfortably made her home.
Maggie usually slept in Iris's room, although if everybody was off gallivanting around, Iris would sneak her down to my lair where the gargoyle would curl up in a special bed we'd prepared for her, safe and sound and protected from the world. Though I usually woke with a snarl, I never turned on Maggie. The very aspects that led others to fear me worked in reverse when it came to her. I'd taken her under my protection.
Iris and I hopped out of the car. Iris woke Anna-Linda and bundled her toward the porch behind me. Before I could unlock the door, Camille opened it and hustled us in.
"Chase wants to talk to you. Chrysandra said you were on your way home so we've been keeping a watch—" She stopped suddenly. "Who's that?"
"A guest," I said. "Is Chase here?"
"He's in the living room," she said, trying to peek behind me.
"I'll tell you about the girl in a bit," I murmured.
As we entered the living room, I saw that Delilah was watching Jerry Springer as usual—this time Jerry was ambushing unwary women with their grooms-to-be who were about to reveal that they'd been sleeping with their future mothers-in-law. Delightful. I had no idea what Delilah got out of this crap, but she liked it and so I humored her. I halfway suspected she had a case of the hots for Springer himself, but that thought was so unappetizing that I tried to avoid it as much as possible.