Blood Bath & Beyond (15 page)

I frowned at Charles. “You have a little something…” I pointed at the corner of my mouth. “Right about there.”

“Thanks.” His eyes flicked to me and he wiped the drop of blood away. “I’ll meet up with you soon, Victoria. Promise.”

And then he was gone. He hadn’t even glanced at the juggling clowns only a dozen feet away from us.

I looked down at Victoria. “What’s his problem? And why was he walking around in public with blood on his lips?”

She shrugged. “He has issues.”

“What kind of issues?”

“Addiction issues. He doesn’t like to talk about it.”

That was troubling. “What’s he addicted to?”

“Charles, well, he gets a little crazy when it comes to blood.”

I cast a surprised glance in the direction Charles had departed. I thought Thierry was the only one—the only one I’d met so far, anyway. To think that Charles had the same kind of struggles as—

Somebody slammed into me. And this time it definitely wasn’t my fault.

I turned and pushed the guy away. “Hey, watch where you’re going, buddy.”

He staggered back a couple of feet. He smelled human—but he also smelled of something else, something very familiar that immediately made my saliva glands kick into action.

He held his hand to the side of his neck and it was covered in blood. His face was pale, his eyes glossy. His shirt was soaked red all down one side.

“Oh, my God!” I exclaimed. The violent sight doused my knee-jerk reaction of hunger. “Are you okay?”

His lips moved, but no sound came out. I drew closer, my hands shaking when I grabbed hold of his shoulder. He didn’t have to answer me. He couldn’t be less okay if he tried.

“Somebody call an ambulance!” I yelled.

Finally, the rest of the crowd looked our way. When a woman near me registered that the man was covered in blood, she let out a high-pitched shriek.

“Please…” The man’s voice was barely audible. “Help me….”

“Who did this to you?”

With his free hand, he pulled me closer so he could gasp into my ear: “Vampire.”

He fell to the ground, his hand dropping from the side of his neck to show the two gory puncture wounds. Blood continued to ooze out onto the sidewalk. He let out a hiss of breath as his eyes closed.

“Did—did he say
vampire
?” the shrieking woman shrieked.

I clamped my hand to my mouth with shock. I’d just discovered a brand-new skill I had—one I didn’t even know I possessed until now. I didn’t have to get down on my knees next to this man to check his pulse. I could just sense it as his heart stopped beating. His blood stopped flowing. The life had left him in a matter of seconds.

He was dead.

“
u
h,” one of the juggling clowns said, “is this some sort of street performance? Because, hello? This is our corner.”

I reared back from the dead body, grabbing hold of Victoria to pull her back as well. She looked just as shocked as I was.

Victim number seven of the vampire serial killer just walked right up to me and practically introduced himself.

Some of the scared and confused witnesses moved closer to the body, some moved farther away. Cell phones moved to ears—and some of the people started to take pictures and video of the dead man.

I caught a bit of the conversation one man had on his phone.

“Yeah, another one. Get Markus here as soon as possible to contain this. There are witnesses, lots of them.”

I didn’t look at him or try to hear anything else. I pulled Victoria along with me as we fled the scene. The last thing I needed right now was to be found present at a murder scene with the Ring’s enforcer showing up at any moment.

“That was bad,” Victoria said, stating the obvious.

“No kidding.”

“So are you like a magnet for trouble, or what?”

I cringed. “It’s a natural talent of mine.”

“I need a cigarette.” She frantically patted her pockets. “Damn it. They must have fallen out in the Funtime Zone.”

I tried to slow my racing thoughts and make sense of what had happened. Charles had just been here—a known bloodaholic, according to Victoria—and he’d had blood on his lips mere moments before the most recent serial killer’s victim had moseyed along the exact same route he’d taken.

Was that only a coincidence?

“Victoria, how long have you and Charles been in Vegas preparing for the pageant?” I asked slowly.

“A week,” she replied.

A shiver went through me. A victim a day, seven victims, seven days. Last time I checked, that counted as a week.

Was Charles the serial killer?

“How long have you known him?” I asked carefully.

“Who, Charles? I don’t know—forever. I found him shortly after I ran away from my crazy sire.”

“How did you find him?”

“Believe it or not, he’s an ex-hunter. Got turned one night by a vampire he tried to slay. Changed his ways soon after. But he still had the urge to protect—and he’s been protecting me ever since.”

An ex-hunter.
Oh boy.

Hunters hated vampires. It was ingrained in them—a way to take their frustrations in life and channel them into something they felt was the right thing to do. You
could literally stand in front of a hunter calmly explaining that their worldview was wrong—that all vampires weren’t evil or in need of slaying—and he’d just smile and nod his head before he sank his stake straight through your heart anyway. It was like talking to a big, ugly (and often
smelly
) brick wall. On average, they weren’t the most open-minded people in the world.

If Charles hated vampires—even if it was a long time ago—maybe there was a part of him that still did. Enough to try to expose the existence of them for all to know.

No. What was I thinking? Was I trying to point the finger at him after only seeing a red smudge on his lips? I was totally jumping to conclusions.

I eyed Victoria. “So what do
you
think we should do now?”

“I think we should give up.”

“Give up?”

She shrugged. “The widow was a dead end, pardon the pun. And if you’re a trouble magnet, who knows what else we’ll run into if we keep going? Personally, I think you should kiss sourpuss good-bye and start your life somewhere much safer.”

I crossed my arms, fighting the annoyance rising inside me at her suggestion. “Well, that’s not going to happen. Another suggestion, pretty please?”

She shrugged. “Well, there’s always that hunter bar Charles mentioned. You want answers? You can ask the murderer yourself. But that would probably be a stupid move.”

Marching into a bar full of hunters would be an extremely bad move. I might have tried something like that a few months ago when I didn’t fully comprehend how risky it was. But now?

Not so much.

Still, I had to admit that Victoria was right. Getting the answers from the hunter himself was very likely the only way I could clear Thierry’s name at this point. This day wasn’t getting any younger.

“Charles said it was near Fremont and Fourth, right?” I asked.

“Didn’t you hear my ‘stupid move’ comment?”

“We’re not going in. I want to lurk outside and wait for him to come out. It’s worth a shot.”

She appeared to ponder this. “We’ll have to stick to the shadows, which will be difficult.” She looked up at the bright, sunny, midafternoon sky with not a cloud currently visible. It was easily over a hundred degrees today. “But this is it. If we don’t find any answers soon, I need to scram. I have a hair appointment later.”

“It’s all about priorities,” I replied dryly. “Murder investigations, hair appointments. Whatever works.”

“My hair is my crowning glory, puppy.” She eyed me. “Yours looks like a brown tumbleweed right now.”

I touched my dark, tangled mop. “It’s been a rough day.”

“For both of us. But you can easily see that my hair is still a blond halo of fabulousness.”

Priorities. Victoria’s was bouncin’ and behavin’ hair. Mine was saving Thierry.

But a brush might come in handy right about now, too.

There really was no question which was the hunters’ bar. It was the one that looked the most dangerous. Hunters, on average, were big burly dudes who pumped iron, wore leather, and rode hogs. And by hogs, I obviously mean Harley-Davidsons, not large
pigs. There were other hunters who didn’t look so tough, but they were usually just the amateurs. The tough guys? They were the pros.

My original plan was to follow Duncan when he left, but that could take forever—and despite my current potential for immortality, I didn’t have that kind of time. Besides, I didn’t know if he was even here in the first place.

“How do you know he’s still in the city?” Victoria echoed my circling worries after we’d waited for over an hour in the blazing heat and bright sun.

“I don’t.”

“I mean, if I just killed somebody in public, I probably wouldn’t stick around. I’d leave so I wouldn’t be caught. He killed Bernard last night in public, right?”

“Right.” I kept my eyes glued on the front door.

“He’s probably long gone by now.” She yawned. “Oh my God, I’m so bored.”

The sun was making me tired and woozy the longer I stood outside. Just because the sun didn’t kill me, it was still…draining. I had just never realized how draining it could be, with or without the dark shades covering my eyes.

We’d taken refuge behind a rusty green Dumpster, but it wasn’t exactly shady. Plus, it smelled like Satan’s sweaty armpit.

Victoria was right. I had no idea if Duncan was still in town. If I’d been him, I would have taken off last night. Frankly, I didn’t know how he got away, or even if he did, considering that Markus the enforcer had been present at the murder.

A tiny sound piped up then. I think it was a Miley Cyrus song.

“What is that?” I asked.

“My cell phone.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out the pink phone to look at the screen. There was a sparkly Hello Kitty sticker on the back of it. “Oh, it’s Charles. He says for me to meet him back at the hotel and he’ll take me to the salon.”

I wanted to bite my tongue to stop from saying anything, but that just wasn’t me. “Victoria…you might think this is crazy, but I’m worried that he might be dangerous.”

“Who, Charles?”

“He tried to kill Thierry yesterday—no questions, nothing. He just attacked.”

“He was trying to protect me.”

“I know. But it was stillmore violent than it needed to be. He could have talked to us. Thierry wasn’t threatening anybody.”

“Sourpuss looks mean. There’s just something about him that’s off-putting. Well, except for the way he looked at you.”

“How was that?”

She shrugged a tiny shoulder. “Whenever you say anything, the rest of the world seems to disappear for him—like you’re the feature act of his sourpuss theater. Just a random observation.”

A random observation that only made me miss him more and harden my resolve to get him out of that hotel suite as soon as I possibly could.

“Pretty dangerous, though,” she continued.

I frowned. “What is?”

“Most master vampires are sourpusses, not just yours. It comes with the territory. But the kind of affection I saw on his face—it could be used against him if he’s not careful.”

I didn’t like the sound of that at all. A line of perspiration slid down my spine. “We were talking about Charles, remember?”

Victoria twisted a finger through her flaxen hair. “If I hired a Rottweiler to protect me, I’d expect him to bite someone who wanted to hurt me. Ditto Charles. I have no problem with what he did.”

“And the fact that he’s a vampire who’s addicted to blood…”

She waved a hand. “Not a big deal.”

“
And
the fact you’ve been in Las Vegas for the same amount of time that the serial killer’s been murdering humans.”

That earned me a sharp look. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. Charles wouldn’t hurt anybody—not unless they were threatening me. He’s not a hunter any…” She trailed off.

“Not a hunter any…
what
?” I prompted after a moment.

The color drained from her little cherublike face and her attention was no longer on me but on something behind me. A shiver went through me, despite the heat of the day, and I turned very slowly to see a young, dark-haired man smiling at us.

“Hi,” he said. “Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation.”

I pasted a smile on my face. “Me and my darling daughter love to make up stories together.”

“You’re both vampires.”

“No, we’re not. But we do think they’re kind of cool. Right, honey?”

“Very cool,” Victoria confirmed in a nervous, squeaky voice.

He held up his hand. “No need to deny it. Haven’t seen one in weeks, actually. You all have been keeping a seriously low profile. But look at you two, just strolling right up and practically introducing yourselves. Helpful.”

“We’re not what you think,” I managed. Denial was always the best option for starters. It might buy me enough time to figure out how we could slip away from this guy before he alerted his buddies.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I love vampires.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. They’re lots of fun to play with.” He raised his other hand, which held a dart gun. He squeezed off two rounds, the first hitting Victoria, the second hitting me, its sting similar to that of a large, angry bee. I pulled the small dart out of my shoulder and looked at it bleakly.

“Garlic darts,” he explained, but he didn’t have to. I already knew what they were.

Funny thing about garlic. While myth says that it repels vampires, the truth is that it knocks us out cold.

I had enough time to glance at Victoria. Her eyes were filled more with annoyance than fear.

Well, she’d said herself that I was a magnet for trouble. She was absolutely right.

The next moment, the world all around me faded to black.

I would have bet cold hard cash on waking up in the middle of that hunter bar. Or, even worse, not waking up at all.

But neither happened.

When I finally pried my eyes open, I was somewhere
pitch-black. The thick air smelled stale. It was slightly cooler than before. I had no idea how long I’d been unconscious. It didn’t feel like outside, since I sensed walls all around. I was indoors somewhere.