Blood Wyne Page 3


He thought for a moment, then led the way to the morgue. “We’ve kept the bodies. We stil don’t have IDs on three of them. The other one, we know who she is but can’t find any family to notify.


But word is getting around on the streets. I’ve got to warn the streetwalkers soon. They deserve to know if there’s some nutcase out there targeting them.”


I stared at the bril iant white wal s of the morgue, the shimmering stainless steel of the sinks and tables. This was my domain—the domain of the dead. Had Dredge not brought me back to life, I’d have walked the hal owed hal s, crossing over to the Land of the Silver Fal s.


Every time I came face-to-face with mortality, I remembered my own immortality and once again had to face the fact that I was a predator. A creature who belonged in the shadows. Never again would I walk under the sun, not until the day I was ready to give it al up and go home to my ancestors. Until then, there was only the moon for me.


Four bodies were laid out on tables, covered with white sheets. Spotless sheets, like freshly fal en snow against a barren background.


“I take it you’ve watched them for any signs of rising?”


He nodded. “Yeah. Nothing. I think they’re truly dead.”


I approached the first one and pul ed back the sheet. She was unearthly in her silence, in her stil ness. Like a statue, or a figure frozen in ice, she lay there, pale from the lack of blood. I leaned down and examined the puncture wounds on her neck. Vampire. I could feel him. Smell him. The vamp who’d kil ed this woman was male and fairly young—at least as a vampire. That much I could tel . Quickly, I checked the other bodies, startled by the similarity of their looks. They could have been sisters.


In a way they are, I thought. Sisters in death. They were kil ed by the same vampire. I could smel him on them, his breath, his scent, his . . .


Oh crap. I jumped back, trembling. Very little set me off, but this—this was too familiar, stil too stark in a memory that I’d never, ever shake.


“Did you check to see if they were raped?” My voice was sharper than I meant it to be, but I couldn’t help it.


Chase looked at me, his expression slipping from neutral to pained. “Yeah, we did. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to tel you. I know what that does to you.”


“They were, right? You wouldn’t find semen, but they were torn and bruised. I can smel it. I can smel the blood-lust . . . not just around the puncture marks.” As I felt the room spin, my fangs came down and I began to panic. I had to get out of there. “Chase, I have to get up to the surface. Now.”


“Come on.” He guided me out but wisely didn’t touch me.


When we came to the elevator, I held out my hand. “You’d better not ride up with me. It’s too dangerous right now. I’l meet you out front.”


He didn’t question, just stood back, letting me board the car without him. I punched M for the main floor and counted the seconds as they ticked by. The elevator wasn’t slow, but by the time it reached the main floor and I managed to haul ass outside, it felt like I’d spent a thousand years locked in the car.


A thousand years of memories, a thousand years of wanting freedom, a thousand years of wondering if we had another Dredge on our hands.


CHAPTER 2


Chase fol owed me outside. “You okay?”


I slowly looked up at him, letting my fangs show. “No, not total y, but I wil be. Just . . . some memories you never shake. Some deeds are never undone. Dredge was a horror beyond anything you can imagine. Karvanak might have come close, but Dredge—he thrived on the pain of others. On humiliation and degradation. He laughed as I screamed, Chase. He laughed like he was watching some stupid sitcom. And then he . . . when he . . .”


I was awash in the sudden memory of his laughing face as he mounted me, raped my bleeding body, tore at the lacerations that he’d spent hours carving into my skin, and for a moment everything shifted beneath my feet. I wanted to hunt, to chase, to kil —but he was dust. I’d already toasted him and there was nothing left I could do to him.


“Menol y, Menol y—snap out of it. Listen to me!” Chase’s voice cut through my bloodlust fog like a razor, slicing the veil of hunger so quickly it felt like I’d been ejected from a womb.


Blinking, I shook my head and stared up at him. “How did you do that?”


“Do what?” He looked puzzled. “What did I do?”


“You yanked me out of bloodlust. When I’m in bloodlust, very little can penetrate the hunger, let alone shake the crazies off me. Camil e can do it, but she has the force of the Moon Mother behind her. An older vampire can do it—and once in a great while, someone comes along with that ability, but seldom an FBH.” I regarded him quietly, wondering just what powers had woken within our detective when he’d been given the Nectar of Life.


“I have no idea how it happened, but I’m glad it worked. I don’t carry a straw and I’m not up for being a long cool drink.” He frowned. “What happened?”


“Flashback. I stil get them once in a while, but it’s been far less since we dusted Dredge.


Before then, almost every day I relived Dredge’s torture in my dreams. And I couldn’t stop them—


couldn’t wake up. But when it happens during the nights, I go into a bloodlust and my predator surfaces, seeking an outlet for the pain of the memories. The past few months, it’s only happened a few times.”


“That’s good, right? Do you think you’l ever be free of it?”


“You can kil the source, but some sins are never washed clean. Whatever Karvanak did to you


—can you easily forget that?”


He shook his head. “And that was just my finger and some . . . light torture. What you went through . . . yeah. I get it.”


“Let’s change the subject. Give me the locations where you found the bodies. We can find out if they’re on a ley line, or if they’re near any known vampire nests.” My head had already cleared from the panic and hunger, and I suspected that Chase had somehow had more to do with it than he realized.


“Come on back in the building. I’l have Yugi get the information for you.” He paused at the door.


“Thanks, Menol y. I know you don’t have to help out with things like this—and I realize it takes you away from your real work—but you have to know, I appreciate the assistance.”


For what was not the first time since we’d met, I looked up at the detective and saw yet another facet of his personality shining through. He was human and fal ible, but even the gods had their faults. Johnson had taken more than most FBHs could handle and stil walked through with his head held high. He’d undergone demonic torture and managed to come out relatively unscathed.


He’d fought alongside the rest of us against demons, ghouls, and zombies, and there was no way we could fault his courage. Al in al , his indiscretions aside, Chase was one of the good guys.


I leaned up on my tiptoes and did something I rarely did—even with my sisters. I gave him a peck on the cheek.


He blinked, slowly raising his hand to his cheek. “What was that for?”


“The fact that you have to ask means you earned it, dude. Now shut up and let’s get in there.


We’ve got a serial kil er to catch.”


So—I guess it’s rol cal time. I’m Menol y D’Artigo, jian-tu turned vampire. Jian-tu means . . . wel , the most equivalent job over Earthside would be ninja without so much assassin attached to it. But I fel —literal y—into a nest of vampires. Dredge, the most vil ainous piece of filth that Otherworld had ever seen, caught me, tortured me, raped me, kil ed me, and brought me back as a vampire.


After that, I spent the next year in rehab learning how not to kil my family or friends.


I’m half-Fae, half-human, and along with my sisters Camil e, a wicked good witch and priestess of the Moon Mother, and Delilah, a werecat who’s also a Death Maiden, I work for the Otherworld Intel igence Agency. Or rather, worked. Until a couple weeks ago. You see, last month the queen of our home city-state and her lover—our father— disowned Camil e for traitorous activity. It was a frame-up, not so pure and not so simple. Delilah and I backed her and got ourselves tossed out on our ears, too, so we now al work for Queen Asteria, the monarch of Elqaneve, the elven lands.


We’re in the middle of a nasty demonic war, trying to prevent Shadow Wing, the demon lord in control of the Subterranean Realms, from pul ing a major coup on Earth and Otherworld. To do so, he needs to gather as many of the spirit seals—parts of an ancient artifact—as he can. We’re trying to get to them first, so it’s a race. We’ve managed to keep five away from him. He’s got one.


Three are up for grabs.


So far, we’ve kept him and his hordes at bay, but a month ago they trashed our house and so we’re doing our best to regroup and strengthen ourselves. There are so many variables in this war by now that we’re taking it one day at a time and hoping for the best. But lately the best just seems to mean we get beat up a lot. And a few of our friends have learned the hard way that their connection to us can lead to major injury . . . or death. We do what we can, but one day our luck’s going to run dry.


The best we can hope is that somehow we’l emerge victorious. The worst is that our end wil be as quick and painless as it can be, because frankly, the more mired we get, the less optimistic we are. But until we know which way the pendulum’s going to swing, we’l kick al the demon ass we can, and if we go down, we’l take as many of them with us as we can. Because we know we’re on the right side. And that’s what counts in this cold, heartless world.


As I headed back to the bar, I thought about the meeting with Chase. A vampire serial kil er meant major problems. For one thing, I was persona non grata among the vampires who might give a damn, and a vil ain among those who would cheer the creep on. Which meant that, for al intents and purposes, I was the odd vamp out.


Sassy Branson—the socialite turned vampire who was fostering the one daughter I’d sired—


might help me, although Sassy was having problems of her own, and they were growing more marked. I wasn’t quite so trusting of her as of late. But Wade, the leader of Vampires Anonymous, and the rest of the pack that fol owed him had made it clear I wasn’t welcome anymore.


The bar was jumping when I returned, but Derrick seemed to be handling the crowd in stride. I waved to him and headed into my office.


Chrysandra poked her head in. “Nerissa said to tel you she’s headed out for the night. She’l cal you later.”


“Thanks, chickadee,” I said, mul ing over who might be able to help us out in this situation.


Delilah was ostensibly a PI, but real y that was more for show than anything else, though she was good at ferreting out information. And no way was I sending her out scouting for information on vampires. That was a recipe for disaster. No, we needed help from the undead side of things.


Hesitating, I picked up a cream-colored invitation and stared at it. I hadn’t answered yet—at least, not more than a maybe. But the man who’d sent this, he might be able to help. Technical y, he wasn’t just a man. He was a vampire, but I was very cautious about getting anywhere near him.


With a sigh, I picked up the phone and dialed the number.


Both Kitten and Camil e were waiting up when I got home. I’d cal ed and asked them to haul ass out of bed because we had a few things we needed to discuss, and I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow night.


Camil e was sipping a cup of steaming tea. Dressed in a black filmy gown, she had a cozy fleece robe thrown over the top. She was gorgeous. That raven hair of hers seemed to be getting longer, and her curves fil ed out the night-gown and robe nicely. Good thing we’re sisters, or I might not be able to keep my eyes to myself, I thought.


Delilah, on the other hand, was wearing a pair of pink flannel pajamas with a kitty on the front, and fuzzy slippers that reminded me of tribbles. She was nursing a glass of warm milk and munching on cookies.


I took off my boots and jacket and sat cross-legged in the big overstuffed chair that Smoky had bought for the living room to replace one of the chairs damaged when the demons trashed our home. Most of the furniture was new, actual y, and there were stil gouges on some of the wal s where the Tregart demons had punched holes through the drywal .


The guys had repaired al of the outside damage and were slowly working their way through the inside of the house now, taking care of the detail work.


“We’ve got a problem. Chase cal ed me over to HQ tonight. It looks like we have ourselves a vampire serial kil er on the loose.” I leaned back against the cushions, closing my eyes. It felt good to be home. I loved clubbing, loved hanging out on the dance floor with my girl, or at the bar with my staff, but at the end of the night, I wanted to be home, to play with Maggie, our cute little calico gargoyle, to chil with my sisters and Iris, and just . . . just to be.


“Great. Another Harold, only after vampires instead of Fae?” Camil e grimaced. Harold Young stil sat uneasy on her mind. Al of our minds, actual y. He’d been the worst of the monsters, even though he’d been an FBH. In fact, that was what made him so horrible—he had been al human by blood. But pure demon into the depths of his soul.


“No—not a serial kil er after vampires. A vampire serial killer. He’s kil ing young women.” I gave them the rundown on what Chase had shown me. “He has to be either a fairly new vampire or new to the area, unless there was a trigger to set off this spree.”


The doorbel rang and we al stared at the hal way for a moment. It was three in the morning.


Who the fuck would be at our door at this time?