I parked my Honda and slammed the door. It echoed in the
night.
Eleven-thirty
was a bad time to be out in the darkness, especially lately. But it was the
only time I could meet my contact. He slept during the day.
In a
coffin.
The
building was close, down a tree-lined street, but sweat rolled down the back of
my neck. This was a bad idea. But I couldn’t bring anyone else. No one would
trust me.
Except
maybe Dudovich. But Dudovich was dead.
I saw the
door and walked faster. Almost there—
Then a
vampire jumped out of a tree, landing right in front of me.
He was
short, with a bald head and big ears. His eyes burned red. “I’m hungry.”
I reached
for the six-inch silver cross around my neck. “Get back.”
He took one
step away, hunching his shoulders and growling. “You think that will protect
you?”
I had a
wooden stake in my back pocket. I’d turned down the handgun loaded with silver bullets
the cops kept trying to force on me, because I’d probably shoot my foot off
before I actually hit a vampire. But now I wasn’t so sure that was a good idea.
My hand was slippery. And the vampire looked like it could move fast.
I stepped
back into the glow of the streetlight. “I know you. Tom Jurgen. You killed
Asmodeus.”
He knew my
name. Oh god.
Yeah. I’d
stabbed a wooden stake into the vampire king’s back right after he killed
Dudovich. So that apparently made me famous in the local vampire community now?
Great.
The vamp snarled. “Just as a favor,
I’ll snap your neck before I drink your blood. You won’t come back. You won’t
have to know what it’s like. Say your prayers now, Tom Jurgen.”
My hand was sweating as I crouched.
“Asmodeus killed a friend of mine. You want to be next?” I tried to sound tough
and fearless. I just wished I had a pair of fresh boxers in the car. “Come and
get me, asshole.”
Not very
snappy, I know, but I’d had a bad few days. Dudovich dead, and my girlfriend
Rachel gone—mad at me. Okay, I’m not very brave. But I can do a lot when I’m
scared.
The vampire laughed. “Oh, I’m going
to enjoy—”
His voice
cut off as a dark shape from behind lifted him up and hurled him against a
tree. The vampire yelped, and then cowered in the dirt. “No! Wait!”
Big clawed
hands grabbed his shoulders and lifted the vampire off his feet, dangling him
over the sidewalk. “This street is mine!” His voice was quiet but fierce. “Get
out of here. Stay off this street. The next time I see you I’ll kill you.”
“Right.
Right.” The vampire dropped to the pavement. He scampered back on his hands and
knees, staring at me. “You got lucky, Jurgen.”
“Looks like
you did too.” I let the cross fall and tucked it under my windbreaker. “Thanks,
Mr. Page.”
The vampire
ran. Clifton Page—also a vampire—watched him disappear. Then he pointed to the
door of his apartment building. “Inside.”
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Clifton Page glared
at me from his big leather chair. His eyes glowed like red-hot coals.
“I killed the vampire king.” I
sipped the beer Page had offered me, trying to calm my shattered nerves.
“Asmodeus? Have you heard of him?”
“Sure.” He looked out the window,
curtains open at night to let the starlight in. “He was an asshole—dangerous.
To you and to us. I’m not exactly sorry he’s dead, but …”
Page was a “friendly” vampire—he
hadn’t hunted humans in years. He survived on blood from animals, a blood bank
black market, and a cult of kinky humans who got off on letting vampires feed
from them. Plus, a human girlfriend. Still, he could be scary.
“But Asmodeus was in control!” Page
slammed a fist on the arm of the chair. “What have you got now? Vampires
roaming the city, citizens terrified, police hunting us down like animals.”
Page took a breath. “I’m going to have to leave the city. I can’t stay here.”
“What about Jillian?” Jillian
Donovan, his human girlfriend. I’d met her when Page hired me to find out whether
she was really a vampire like him. Spoiler alert: She was human, but she liked
vampires. And she loved Page. Go figure.
His glowing eyes dimmed. “That’s
none of your business. You called me. What do you want?”
Two days ago I’d texted him for
information about Asmodeus. The Chicago PD had recruited me to help with the
sudden rise in vampire killings in the city. I have some experience dealing
with the supernatural, and after years of calling me crazy, the cops had
decided they could use my expertise.
So two nights ago we’d tracked the
vampire king to his lair. It was an ambush—vamps all around the place. And then
a double ambush—a police helicopter and a SWAT team.
In the end, 22 vamps were dead.
Along with Elena Dudovich, the one cop on the CPD who actually tolerated me.
I was still dealing with that.
“So what do we do?” Vampire attacks
were up—and the cops were having a hard time hiding it. They’d been blaming a
bad load of meth across the city, but people were starting to wonder about the
lack of arrests.
You couldn’t put a vampire on
trial. The only thing to do was stake them. But that wasn’t something the cops
could talk about.
As a former reporter, I was
conflicted. My job had always been about sharing the truth. That was one reason
Rachel was gone—not permanently, I hoped, but after a big fight she’d left to
spend a few days with her friend in a shack in Nowhere, Indiana. At least she
called when she heard about the battle. To make sure I was safe.
Page lifted a glass of red wine
from the table. At least it looked like wine. “You have to find a new king.”
Really like Clifton . . . decent guy, badass, territorial vamp. TJ should keep this guy around
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