Bitten 2 (6 page)

“These two decided to have a little party and didn’t think to invite me,” Chuckles replied with a wide grin that conjured up thoughts of a shark and made me infinitely glad that I wasn’t on the receiving end.

Noticing the awkward way I cradled my still numb arm, she asked, “Are you alright, Ms. Cray? Should I call you a doctor?”

“I’ll be fine,” I assured her, trying to wiggle my fingers, and breathing a large sigh of relief when they gave a small twitch in response.

At least there’s no permanent damage.

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. But thanks...” I said, letting my words trail off questioningly.

“Katarina,” she supplied with a smile and small bob. “Can I fetch you some coffee?” she added, uttering the magic words.

Nodding, I slumped down onto the couch while the Idiot Twins remained standing. It was clear from the expressions on their faces that they were trying to stay as far away from me as possible while also avoiding the imposing bald vamp. The reception area just wasn’t that big, leaving the Twins to shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

As Katarina tottered away to call the police, I let my head fall back against the back of the couch and closed my eyes. I could feel Baseball Cap and his buddy glaring at me but ignored them in favor of concentrating on the backs of my eyelids and taking slow, even breaths. After Chuckles had come to my rescue like some undead white knight, a headache had begun to bloom behind my eyes, and the relentless, pounding music of the club had intensified the sensation of white hot needles being driven into my temples.

At the sound of footsteps, I cracked my eyes open to watch Katarina approach, carrying the red and black tray once again. The only upside to the whole mess I found myself in was the chance to have another cup of the heavenly coffee.

Maybe Cordova would give me a bag or two as hazard pay.

Bending over to allow me to doctor the steaming cup with cream and sugar, she cast a disgusted look at the Idiot Twins. “Perhaps you would prefer to wait for the police in Mr. Cordova’s office?”

Glancing up at the closed doors, my curiosity was piqued by the chance to do a little snooping. If I was going to be putting my life in danger for him, I sure as hell was going to learn as much about him as I could.

Cradling my cup with my good hand, I lifted my shoulders in a brief shrug, hoping that my eagerness wasn’t too obvious. “Sure.”

Treating our reluctant guests to a disapproving look that would have made lesser men quail in fear, Katarina turned and led me to the master vamp’s office, opening the double doors with a graceful flourish. Once I had settled myself in the same chair as earlier, she dipped into another bob and backed out of the room, closing the doors behind her to leave me alone. I wasn’t sure where Cordova and his Day Servant had slunk off to, but I relished the solitude of the empty office.

Taking a sip of my coffee, I savored the rich taste for a moment and relaxed my stiff shoulders a fraction as the caffeine began to ease the throbbing behind my eyes. Not wanting to waste my chance to snoop unobserved, I set my cup on the edge of the desk and rose to my feet. A cursory survey of Cordova’s desk turned up nothing of interest, the desktop almost completely devoid of clutter beyond an old fashioned rolodex, leather trimmed ink blotter, and a dagger that probably doubled as a letter opener. The drawers were, unsurprisingly, locked and seeing as I didn’t feel like delving into breaking and entering just yet, I quickly moved on.

I was reaching for the handle of a file cabinet in the corner of the room when I picked up the sound of approaching footsteps on the other side of the door. Retreating to my seat, I adopted an expression of weariness, which really didn’t require all that much effort, and was lifting my cup to my lips when the doors opened on silent hinges.

A string of curses and threats accompanied Katarina as she poked her head into the room. “The police have arrived, Ms. Cray. Marcus is talking with them now.”

“Marcus?”

“Our head of security.”

Oh. I think Chuckles suits him better.

“I suppose they’ll want to talk to me next.”

Nodding, she closed the door.

I remained in my seat for a whopping three seconds after the door shut, sealing me in the silent office. Bouncing up from the chair, I skirted around Cordova’s desk once more to the filing cabinet. I half expected it to be locked like his desk, and was surprised when the top drawer opened soundlessly. Spurred on by curiosity and a desire to know just what I was getting myself into, I thumbed through the first few folders.

I’m not sure was I was hoping to find—maybe some evidence that Cordova was planning world domination or was part of a secret cult—but my cursory search turned up nothing more interesting than employment records for the club’s staff. I was reaching for a file marked “Chrismer, J.” when I was startled by a polite knock on the door. Shoving the drawer closed I dashed across the room to my seat, and was reaching for my cup on the edge of Cordova’s desk when Katarina leaned into the room to inform me that an Officer Nelson wanted to speak with me. Chugging the last of my coffee, hoping that she didn’t notice the way my hand trembled, I set my cup aside and rose from the chair.

My steps were slow as I stepped out into the reception area and was instantly struck by a maelstrom of unpleasant smells. Pissed off vamp smells a bit like the damp remnants of a bonfire, which, when combined with the sour scent of sweat radiating off the Idiot Twins, created a cloying smell that left me fighting against the urge to gag. Wrinkling my nose in disgust, I turned my attention away from the two men staring at me sullenly, and focused on the uniformed police officer standing beside the reception desk.

Officer Nelson was average in every sense of the word, all the way down to his standard issue uniform; there was nothing about him that would make him stand out in a crowd. I immediately didn’t trust it. He was
too
normal, as if everything about him was a carefully constructed mask to help him blend in.

My shoulders stiffened even as I tried to project an air of relaxed indifference. It wasn’t that I disliked law enforcement. I mean, I’m dating an FBI agent for heaven’s sake. It was just that my few interactions with the police hadn’t exactly left me enamored of them. I was pretty sure that I wasn’t at the top of their Christmas card list either. Because all branches of law enforcement and the military barred supes, these organizations were strictly comprised of mundanes, although a few like Holbrook managed to fly under the radar. The cop who wouldn’t automatically side with the mundane in a human-supe altercation was a rare creature.

It wasn’t until he extended a hand towards me and I felt the familiar tingle of magical energy crawling up my arm that I recognized him for what he was—a magi. Officer Nelson was one of those supes hiding in plain sight.

The minute widening of his eyes let me know that he’d felt the reflexive flare of his magic answering something inside me while the sheen of sweat that broke out on his brow hinted at his sudden fear that I would out him. With a reassuring smile, I maintained my hold on his hand a moment longer.

“Evening, Officer.”

Hesitating for a moment he looked at me askance, and after deciding that I wasn’t going to rat him out on the spot, relaxed a fraction of an inch. “Ms. Cray. What appears to be the problem here?”

“I was—”

“That wolf assaulted me!” Mike piped up from where he sat, still zip tied, in one of the ugly clear chairs, his blood dried into a dark crust around his nose and mouth. I noted with no small amount of satisfaction that Baseball Cap remained silent, settling for just glowering at me.

“I’ll get to you in a minute,” Officer Nelson said, giving Mike a look that made him clamp his lips together in a frown. “You were saying?”

“I had just met with Mr. Cordova and was returning to my car when I found these two trashing it.”

“What was the nature of your meeting with Mr. Cordova?”

“We were discussing an employment opportunity.”

“God protect us, the beasts of Satan are conspiring together!” Mike shouted, leaning forward in his chair as if he intended to leap up and body slam me. Chuckles clamped a pale hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down into his chair with apparent ease. “Get your hand off me! Don’t touch me you damn corpse!”

“I advise you, Mr. Lewis, to keep your mouth shut,” Officer Nelson said, turning narrowed eyes on the protester.

Mike fell silent under the police officer’s gaze, but didn’t look at all happy about it. Beside him, his partner continued to glare at me, and I shuddered at the thought of what he might try to do to me if he got loose.

“Had you met either of these men before?”

“Not before today. I saw that one earlier,” I said pointing at Baseball Cap. “He was part of the Humans for Humanity protest going on when I arrived.”

“And did anything happen at that time?”

“He got in my face, but that’s about it,” I said, shrugging. “Just the usual ignorant bigot babble.”

* * *

It was nearing midnight when I finished explaining the events of the evening to Officer Nelson, the buzz from Cordova’s exquisite coffee having worn off long ago, leaving me tired, grouchy, and fighting the resurgence of my headache. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and go to sleep, but home was still another two hours away, and that was only if I figured how I was going to get there. My Jeep sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere unless it was on the back of a tow truck.

Some of the tension eased out of my shoulders as I watched the Idiot Twins being marched out in handcuffs, wearing matching scowls. Turning to Katarina, who somehow looked as bright eyed and fresh as the moment I’d first set eyes on her, I asked, “Do you have the number for a tow truck?”

“Oh, that has already been taken care of. Mr. Cordova arranged for your car to be taken to his personal mechanic.”

For a moment I just stared at the pretty brunette in surprise, trying to decide if I should be pleased or outraged that the master vampire had swept in and cleaned up the mess without consulting me first. “I see. Well, then I guess I need a cab.”

“Mr. Cordova has arranged a car and driver for you.”

“That won’t be necessary. A cab is fine.”

“I insist,” Cordova said, sliding up beside me. I hadn’t realized how much the pervasive smell of vampires had muddled my sense of smell until he appeared as if out of thin air. Restraining myself from leaping out of my skin by force of will alone, I couldn’t stop the small squeak of surprise that escaped my lips. Turning narrowed eyes on him, I was disappointed when rather than wilting beneath my glare, he simply smiled wide enough to show fang, his unnaturally green eyes sparkling with amusement.

Undead prick.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Expecting to have to traipse back through the club and out to the packed parking lot behind the club, I was surprised when I was instead herded towards a small elevator concealed behind one of the beige panels hanging from the rafters. I wasn’t keen on the idea of being crammed into the small space with the master vamp, and was even less enamored of the notion when Chuckles joined us, but I was too tired to make a fuss about it. Retreating into the corner of the elevator, I tried to get as far away from the two vamps as possible, which wasn’t very successful.

I had no idea where the elevator went, but I figured it was probably the least of the things I didn’t know about the vampire hangout. Riding down, sandwiched between Cordova and Chuckles, I struggled to remain still, fighting against the desire to fidget. Being in such a tight space with the two vamps made my skin crawl and my throat itch, their moldy smell permeating the air. Not for the first time, I struggled to understand why anyone would willingly want to surround themselves with the stink and inherent creep factor of the talking corpses. Were the benefits of being a vamp’s Day Servant that good, or was there something else that tied their living guardians to them?

Not much was publicly known about the vampire and Day Servant relationship; many of the particulars of the arrangement were kept as closely guarded secrets by the vampire community. What little was known created more questions than it answered—why didn’t all vampires have Day Servants? Was it something only the older vamps did? And if so, why? Was it a matter of power or prestige? I had a dozen questions about the how of it all, and even more about the why.

Surely there was more to the deal beyond a Day Servant’s role as a daytime errand boy/girl and walking blood donor, otherwise what was the point? I sure as hell couldn’t see Chrismer doing it out of the goodness of her heart; there had to be some pretty significant benefits to being Cordova’s midnight snack for the self-serving reporter to be at his beck and call.

The soft chime of the elevator saved me from having to puzzle out what it was about the vamps that kept their human cronies coming back for more. I bolted out of the elevator as soon as the door opened, putting ample space between me and my companions. The air was redolent with the smell of engine oil and standing water, but it was a hell of a lot better than the stink of vampire. Sucking in a deep breath I stopped and looked out over the collection of cars in the subterranean parking garage. Each one was polished to a brilliant luster, shining in the near dark like the carapaces of a dozen beetles.