Night Huntress

Page 32

She gave me a smile. “Brace yourself, but yes. If you’re going in as my pet, you have to dress the part, and trust me, blood whores wear shit like this.” The look on her face told me there was no wiggle room. “Change.”
“I do not want to wear this.” On my way to a whine fest, I pulled my best sad-kitty-eyes act, but even that didn’t sway her.
“Tough. What about boots? Do you have any high-heeled black boots? Stilettos, not mud thumpers.” Menolly looked ready to paw through my closet, so I motioned her aside and pulled a box down from the upper shelf and shoved it into her hands.
“Camille talked me into buying these. They’re cute, but they’ll put me at six five. You sure you want a pet that tall? You’re barely five one, you know.”
“So what? You’re tall, and I’m a vampire. Yes, these are good,” she said, examining them. “These are really pretty. We want you to stand out, Kitten, and we want you to fit a certain mold. The Fangtabula caters to vampires who keep pets and blood whores. If I go in there with you dressed in jeans and a wife-beater, people are going to question us right from the start, because they cater to clientele who look a little . . . sleazy. I just hope nobody recognizes me. My work with Wade could put me at a disadvantage.”
“I don’t wear wife-beaters,” I said, sliding out of my clothes. “I wear muscle shirts, okay? Tank tops.”
“Whatever the hell you want to call them.” She motioned to my panties and bra. “Those, too. You don’t have Camille’s boobs, so you can do without a bra. And you don’t want a visible panty line. Doesn’t matter if they’re tight and anything else shows. Just nothing that even hints of normalcy.”
“Trust me, I won’t have even a nodding acquaintance with normal when you get done with me.”
I worked my way into the skintight pants, holding my breath as they stretched over my hips and hugged my crotch. The material was scratchy and made me itch, and one look in the mirror told me that people were getting a free peep show under the flesh-hugging spandex. You could see my lips, and they weren’t the ones I used liner and gloss on.
I tried to tug the crotch down a little, but the material was molded to my body. Finally, I gave up, slipped the halter top over my head, and tied it around my neck. The halter ended about six inches above my belly button, draping my midsection with long, tasseled fringe that tickled. Actually, it made me want to turn into my tabby form and have a field day batting at it, but I squelched that thought.
Menolly handed me the boots, and I slipped them on, zipping them up. After that, I twirled for her, feeling totally ludicrous.
She nodded. “Good . . . now you need a collar. Black lace scarf, tied with a bow. If you don’t have one, Camille will.”
“Oh for Pete’s sake, is there a dress code?” I asked, digging through my dresser until I came up with a chiffon scarf. It was black, plain but sheer.
Menolly gave it her stamp of approval.
“Yes, there is, unwritten though it may be.” She adjusted the scarf so the bow faced the back of my neck. “There, that’s code for a switch-hitter. If you had the bow in front, no vamp—or anybody in the Fangtabula—would approach you, because it would mean I own you and hands off. To the left—I’ll let you play with girls only. To the right—boys only. If the bow’s facing the back, then anybody can ask permission.”
I blinked. What rock had I been hiding under? “How the hell do you know all this?”
“I get around,” she said, arching her eyebrows and giving me a wicked grin. “Remember, this code only applies in the vamp subculture.” Menolly motioned for me to sit down and picked up my makeup bag. “You’ll find ownership and domination symbology runs differently through each subcult.”
She sorted through the pots of paint. I had enough of Camille’s cast-off supplies to last me for years. “Let’s see what we have—oh! This will do nicely.”
Within moments, I was sporting brilliant red lips and wild chartreuse eye shadow. After outlining my eyes in brilliant liner the color of green velvet, she dusted me with enough powder to pale me down. “You can’t look too robust if I’ve been feeding on you regularly.” She stood back. “I think we’re done.”
I stared at myself in the mirror, blinking. “Uh, yeah, stick-a-fork-in-me done. I look like a drag queen. So, what’s our story?” I asked, following her downstairs.
“We met in a lesbian club. If anybody asks, say it was at Sapphic Blue. I picked you up, took you home, made a meal off of you. You liked it so much you came back for more.”
“So now I’m a lesbian? Works for me, I guess,” I said. “Just don’t expect me to French you one.” As I let out a snort, Menolly whirled around and pushed me back against the wall.
“Fun and games are fine, but remember, this isn’t a joke, Kitten. Don’t screw this up. Chase’s life depends on finding Karvanak. This little fiasco may well lead us to that demonic SOB. So work the story and play it for real if you want to find your boyfriend.”
She looked so fierce that I stumbled and slid down to sit on the steps. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
“Damned well I’m right. Okay, you want a story? Listen up. We’re a couple. You’re one of my pets—which means you’re a kept woman. I drink from you, and we have sex. When I’m not using you, you hang out in the living room and watch TV and talk on the phone.”
I swallowed. “So I don’t have a job?”
“No job. I take care of you, and I pay wherever we go. So leave your purse and money in the car except for an emergency stash in your boot. I’m an easy mistress. You don’t have to ask permission to eat, go to the bathroom, talk to people, but I make all the decisions. When you address me, do so as Mistress.”
I coughed. “Mistress? Oh boy, this is getting better and better every minute. So what do we do first?”
“Our first goal is to attract Fraale’s attention. Chances are, if she’s new in town, she won’t have had time to get a bead on us, and we’ll be lucky. If Karvanak has filled her in, and she’s working for him, we’re going to have to switch gears. We may have to kill her. Roz assures me she’ll be interested in you and want to try you out.”
“But she’s not a vamp—”
Menolly stopped at the bottom of the landing. “No, but vampire clubs are good hunting grounds for her play. And apparently succubus blood is tasty. I’ve never had it, so I don’t know. My bet is that she offers a vein in exchange for an hour or so with the pet of her choice. She’ll play for a while, give the vamps a drink, and then be off. We need to find out why she’s hanging around Karvanak and where he’s hiding. If we’re lucky, she’ll mention him. If not, then we make contact, play for a bit, and trail her home.”
“Delightful. I might get a spanking out of this, you mean.” It wasn’t a question. I’d given up trying to fight the current.
“You might at that.”
I shrugged. “Okay. Let’s do it. I guess if Camille could face a dragon’s bed for us, I can face seduction at the hands of a succubus. Just why do we always end up using sex to pay for help? Can’t we just cook them dinner and take in a movie?”
It was Menolly’s turn to let out a snort. She smiled at me, then sobered. “Let me tell you something, before we rejoin the others. Rozurial and Fraale were married before he was transformed into an incubus and she, a succubus. They loved each other dearly. She was the only family he had after Dredge killed his parents and siblings.”
“They were normal Fae?”
“Right,” Menolly said. “This happened when he was around ninety—still quite young. A traveling wizard stopped at their house and tried to seduce Fraale. As Roz stepped in to chase him off, the wizard’s wife showed up and transformed Fraale into a succubus. That’s when they realized they weren’t facing a wizard and his deranged wife at all. It was really Zeus, who was trying to play the field again.”
“Let me guess. Hera was the wizard’s wife?”
“Bingo. And she was out for blood. Hera was pissed at Zeus, but she took it out on Fraale. Roz begged Zeus to change Fraale back, but Zeus couldn’t, so he turned Roz into an incubus, somehow thinking that might help matters. Of course, it just made them worse.”
“The gods can be real shits sometimes, can’t they?” I let out a low growl. “They don’t always play fair.”
“The Greek gods have never played fair.” Menolly let out a sigh. “I guess the dynamic duo forgot all about Roz and Fraale. As their new natures began to take over, they ended up separating. They couldn’t stay together without traumatizing each other. They’d been monogamous, you see. Like Father and Mother. Rare among two full Fae, but it happens.”
Cripes. “I’ll try to be more sensitive. I noticed the look on Roz’s face when he smelled that scarf.”
“Good.” Menolly gave me a little push. “Let’s go find Chase.”
As I stepped into the kitchen, all conversation stopped. Camille dropped the cookie she was eating and it splashed into her teacup. Iris stopped whatever she was saying midsentence. Smoky coughed and quickly tried to cover a smile, while both Morio and Zach looked horrified. A slow grin spread across Rozurial’s face, and Vanzir just shook his head.
The only one to speak was Maggie, from her playpen, where she called out, delighted, “De-ya-ya!!!”
I scooped her up and nuzzled her, then handed her to a still-silent Iris. “Well, don’t all speak at once. Do I look ready for the Fangtabula?”
Camille sputtered. “Where the hell did you find that getup? You certainly didn’t nab it from my closet.”
“I certainly hope not,” Smoky said.
“Bite me.” I rolled my eyes at the dragon. “I never thought anybody would ever see this. I should have thrown it away.”
“It’s perfect,” Menolly said. “And now, we’d better get moving. The club should start hopping in about ninety minutes, and I want to be there before it gets too crowded. Hopefully, we’ll pick up some information.”
As Zach and Roz grabbed their jackets, I glanced back at the others. “I have my cell phone. Menolly has hers. You guys do what you can here. We’ve got to find Chase, before Karvanak . . .”
The thought of what he’d done to Vanzir, what humiliation he’d put the dream chaser through, kept running through my mind. Chase couldn’t survive that treatment. He wasn’t a demon. And given what had already gone down, if he did survive, would he manage to recover?
“Let’s move,” I said. “We don’t have any time to waste.”
CHAPTER 24
The Fangtabula was down in the Industrial District of south Seattle, not too far from where we’d fought the venidemons. It occurred to me that if the demons did have a foothold with some of the local vamps, then trouble was brewing big-time. And if the demons were taking over houses and setting up nests of their grotesque blowflies, what else were they doing, and where else had they infiltrated?
The fact that there was a portal to the Netherworld in the venidemon house worried me. Had the demons also forged contracts with creatures from the spirit realm? Were they attempting to gather armies on all sides? I mentioned my fears to the others.
“You might be on to something. The demons usually give the Netherworld a wide berth, but with all that’s going on, old grudges and alliances aren’t necessarily holding true. And if Vanzir is right, and Shadow Wing has gone over the edge, then we better be prepared for anything. But why would anybody in the Netherworld want to help him? What could they gain?” Menolly frowned as she maneuvered the streets in Camille’s Lexus. Her Jag would be a tight squeeze, and my Jeep didn’t fit her style. She’d changed into full leathers and was looking quite the mistress indeed.
“There are creatures in the Netherworld that hate the living,” Roz said. “If they’ve taken corporeal form at any time, some of them resent having to give it up and fade back into the shadowed worlds. The demons might have promised them easier access to the physical world if they help.”
“I don’t know about any of that,” Zach said, frowning, “but we’ve had some odd goings-on out at the compound. There’s an unsettled air on the outskirts of our land, and we’ve doubled guard duty at night. If I didn’t know better, I’d think the werespiders were back.”
Shivering, I stared out the window. The werespiders had been a field day, all right. Kyoka and Karvanak might be evenly matched, now that I thought about it. Except Kyoka had been nursing a grudge against the werepumas, where Karvanak had his sights aimed directly on us.
“I doubt it. At least, I hope not,” I mumbled. “We’ve got enough to worry about, but Kyoka isn’t one of them. Maybe some werespider has taken his place, but I destroyed Kyoka and consigned his soul to oblivion.” Flashing back to that night, I shivered. Hi’ran—the Autumn Lord—had given me direct orders, and I’d carried them out. I’d obliterated Kyoka and sent his soul spiraling back into the vast expanse that makes up the energy pool feeding the universe. Whatever essence he’d had was long gone, destroyed in the white fires of creation. There was no way he could still be in existence, but that didn’t mean that the Hunters Moon Clan hadn’t decided to re-form and cause havoc again.
As we sped through the rain-soaked streets, I opened the window a crack to get some fresh air. Spring in the northwest was cool, but the damp chill refreshed me, and I sucked in a deep breath, holding it tight in my lungs then letting it spiral out again. I might not like getting wet, but that didn’t mean I lacked appreciation for the blessings the rains brought with them.