Bloodguilty (3 page)

He was teasing, but Mikki didn't look any less annoyed. "Look, I know that is going to make me sound like a dick, but I don't trust strange monsters. Especially ones that prey on humans… and especially vampires."

Casimir put up both hands. "I was under the impression that there weren't many vampires here."

"There's not, but the ones that
are
here are assholes. Especially Jared."

"Jared?" He let his hands drop.

"Yeah, he's the leader, I guess. You know him?"

Casimir bit his lip, wincing when his fangs broke through the skin. The human gestures came out sometimes, despite him having long learned better. Doubly so when he was under stress. "It answers a few of my questions," he replied, licking away the faint taste of iron.

Mikki took a step back towards the alley. "Well, you do whatever you have to do and get out. I'll be keeping an eye on you. Don't make a mess."

"I'll do my best." Casimir wasn't going to hold his gun to Mikki's head and force him to come to dinner. "One more thing, though: can you tell me where I could rent a room? I figure you must know where everything is in this city."

He expected Mikki to blow him off, but he said, "If you go past the Jewel Box, there's a brown brick building about two blocks away. It's a hotel. The centaur who runs it is a mean son of a bitch, so watch what you say."

"I'll do that. Thanks, Mikki."

"Yeah, sure."Mikki started to move back into the alley.

"Are you sure I can't take you out for food? I was being serious about that."

Mikki snorted. "Nothing about the idea of a vampire taking me out for food makes me feel good."

"Fair enough, I guess," Casimir said, but he was talking to the empty air. Mikki was already gone.

Mikki wasn't kidding—the centaur that ran the inn
was
a mean son of a bitch. He glared down at Casimir from his towering height, a frown etched into his craggy face, hooves scraping sharply against the stone floor. After repeated assurances that he wasn't, in fact, here to feed on centaur, a key was reluctantly tossed at him.

Casimir went up to his room and, after closing the door, laid his bag on the bed. There were a few sets of clothes inside, but what he was looking for was underneath. The stakes came out first—a half-dozen of them, made from an ash tree. He didn't know if the type of wood actually mattered, or if that was just folklore, but Casimir decided not to take chances with it.

He may have lost his butterfly knife to the blob monster, but his Bowie knife was still in the bag. It was as good for intimidation as it was for cutting. Apparently, cowboys used them in the Wild West a few hundred years ago. He wouldn't know; he was only fifty himself.

Wrapped in a shirt was his .357 magnum revolver. Casimir was told it was a Ruger when he bought it, but the brand name didn't mean anything to him. The pistol he carried in his pocket was a 9mm, and ammunition for that was rare. .357 rounds were rarer than diamonds, and probably even more valuable now. He kept it only for desperate situations.

Before he could start putting everything back away, he heard a knock on the door. Throwing clothes over his weapons, he opened the door a crack, then completely when he saw who was on the other side. "How did you know which room I was in?"

"Centaur told me. He said you're an asshole, and I'm an asshole if I knew you. I kinda like him." Mikki stood on the other side, arms crossed. It was the first time Casimir had seen him in full lighting; he was a handsome guy, still young-looking, with a scruff of whiskers across his face. His hair and eyes were just as black as they looked in the dark.

"Beryl said you left this, asked if I knew where you were," he said, holding out a small red journal. The leather cover was cracked with age. "I can't read it, but I figured it's probably yours anyway."

"Thank you," he said, taking the journal. He'd had it since he was still human; it would have been devastating to lose it. "I'm not surprised you can't read it—it's in Cyrillic."

"In what?"

"It's a writing system. It's—it's in Russian," Casimir said, figuring Mikki wouldn't care for the history lesson.

He shrugged. "Wouldn't matter what language it was in. I can't read anyway."

Casimir's eyebrows went up. "You never learned in school?"

Mikki snorted, swiping hair out of his eyes. "What school? I never went. Wasn't exactly priority number one after my parents disappeared."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said, slipping the journal into his bag.

Mikki shrugged again. "It happens a lot around here. My sister took care of us. We survived."

Casimir had the feeling that Mikki was acting harder than he really was, but he doubted that he'd ever let that front down for a stranger. "Where are they now?"

"Why do you care?"

"Just making conversation," Casimir said. He pushed the stakes aside and sat down, hoping Mikki would take the invitation to come inside. He'd been traveling for a while; having someone to talk to would be nice.

Mikki leaned against the doorframe. "She met a guy and disappeared too. My little brother doesn't talk to me anymore."

"I lost my family as well," Casimir said.

Mikki snorted. "You're old, right? They probably died from old age."

Casimir bit back on his initial offended reply. "No. The vampire that turned me killed them," he said, expecting another blasé reply.

Mikki looked away, rubbing the back of his neck. "… Sorry. That sucks."

"It was a long time ago," Casimir said, calming down at the sight of Mikki showing some humanity. An odd thought when he was, himself, not human anymore. "I'm old, but I'm pretty young for a vampire."

"What's that mean?"

"I'm fifty. Back when I was turned, that would have made me pretty much a teenager. One hundred was the 'mature' year; not a lot of us reach that age anymore." Now it was Casimir's turn to shrug. "Monster hunting, slaying, whatever you want to call it, is a pretty popular career these days."

Mikki snorted again, shaking his shaggy hair out of his eyes. "You think I don't know that? We get at least one dipshit a week showing up to try and make a name for themselves here. Most of 'em get eaten by the damn blob monsters. I thought you were one of 'em when I saw you."

"I don't really see the appeal in chasing after something that wants to eat me," Casimir said.

A spark of interest flashed in Mikki's eyes. "There are things that eat vampires? Besides the fleshballs, I guess."

"Ghouls will eat anything with flesh, including us. Demons don't usually eat bodies, but they would just to spite us. And then we have the problem of vultures following us around and pecking at us if we fall asleep outside," Casimir said, the last part clearly teasing.

Mikki rolled his eyes.

"Are you planning on hunting us?" Casimir asked.

"No way. I just protect my area, get what money I can here and there doing it. I mean, I'd kill you if you were a threat, but there's too many fucking monsters in the world to go chasing them down," Mikki said, shaking his head.

"Why not ask the Jewel Box if they could use a bodyguard if you need money? I'm sure they could use one," Casimir suggested.

Mikki shook his head. "I'll watch out for them, but no way in hell I'm working there."

"I didn't mean selling yourself."

"I know. Still, nope." Mikki seemed to realize how long he'd been standing there chatting, and he pushed off of the doorframe. "Anyway, you got your book." Without so much as a goodbye, he closed the door.

Casimir found himself chuckling as he picked up a shirt and folded it. There was a lot more to Mikki than a scowling face. He would have to ask him to dinner again and hope he accepted.

Casimir slept the rest of the daylight away and woke at dusk. Beryl's blood was already thin in his system, and his veins were aching with the need for more. He tucked a stake into one pocket and his pistol into the other then headed down the stairs.

The centaur wasn't at the desk, but there was a brass bell set up with a pull cord sitting in the middle of it. Casimir couldn't imagine himself daring to pull it, even if the hotel was on fire.

A quick look outside the door didn't reveal any of the blob monsters, and he couldn't hear any, either, so Casimir set out walking back to the Jewel Box. This time, there were two people on the porch: one seemingly human woman in a shimmering white wrap sitting in a chair, and another woman lying on a lounge, three bushy black tails with white tips twitching behind her black robe.

Casimir bowed to the fox demon. He didn't know what type she was, but given that they all loved mischief, it was smarter for him to be polite to her. She yawned, her bright yellow followed him into the building.

Adeline was in the foyer again, this time wearing a deep purple dress. "Hello again," she said, only glancing up from the datapad she was working on. "If you will give me just one moment, I'll send for Beryl for you."

"No, not Beryl. She was wonderful, but it wouldn't be safe for me to take her blood again when I just did last night."

Adeline smiled and finally gave him her attention. "That was what I was hoping to hear. I'm finished with this bill. Now let me just see who's free. I assume you prefer human?"

"Human blood is the only kind I can drink," he replied. "No disrespect to your lovely monsters. Speaking of, I noticed the fox demon outside. I'm amazed you're able to keep her working for you."

She responded with a very unladylike snort. "She comes and goes as it amuses her. She doesn't even ask to be paid; I think she only decides to work when she has nothing better to do. But she's very popular, so I can't begrudge her anything, even though she's only been here a few weeks."

After few swipes across the surface of the datapad, she slipped it into her pocket. "Ah, there we are. Take the hallway to your left and enter the second door. He will be with you shortly."

Casimir bowed his head in thanks and went where he was directed. This room, unlike Beryl's, was done in dark, sultry reds. An overstuffed sofa stood against one wall, and he sat down on it, sinking into the cushions.

It wasn't long before the young man that he'd seen last night entered, wearing the same red robe. He was tall and lean, with dark hair and eyes. "Welcome," he said, voice quiet but pleasant. "I'm Garnet, and I'm here to take care of you."

Casimir frowned. "I don't think this is a good idea. Don't get me wrong, you're beautiful, but your mistress told me that you were attacked by a vampire. I can't imagine that you'd want another one drinking from you."

Garnet flinched, his hands slipping into his long sleeves. "Don't worry, I'm sure I can handle it."

"I'm sure you can." Casimir stood and walked closer to Garnet; as he expected, Garnet took an involuntary step back. "But I'm not here to make you miserable. If it's something you're just going to find incredibly unpleasant, I'll ask for someone else."

Garnet bit his lip then asked, "You're not going to take a lot of blood, are you?"

"No, just a small amount," Casimir promised, watching Garnet's expression. Something about his face was familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was.

He rubbed the back of his neck. "I think I'll be okay."

The gesture made Casimir realize who he looked like. "Do you know Mikki? Apparently he's a part-time guardian angel of this place."

Garnet's expression closed. "Why do you ask?"

"I just thought you looked something like him."

"That's not a surprise, considering that we… I'm Mikki's brother," he said, untying the belt of his robe and letting it slip down his shoulders. "How do you want me for this?"

It was as clear a subject change as Casimir had ever heard, so he didn't push. That explained why Mikki wouldn't work here, even as a guard. He mused on the idea that it might get Mikki and Garnet to start speaking again, but Mikki would be more likely to set him on fire than to let him play mediator.

"Lie down on the bed. I'm not taking a lot of blood, but you still might feel woozy." He preferred to have his donors come before, or during, the feeding, but he had a feeling that he'd pushed Garnet into "not in the mood" territory. He'd just have to be more gentle than usual.

When Garnet settled back against the pillows, Casimir sat beside him, stroking the curve of his cheek with the back of his hand. He bent to kiss Garnet's jaw, trailing down to his neck. He could feel Garnet's pulse under his lips, and it made his own heart rate increase.

He ached to bury his fangs into Garnet's pale throat, but Casimir forced himself to sit up, sliding his palms along Garnet's chest instead, making a pattern around his heart. Garnet's hand was in his hair then, and he bent to kiss his chin, careful not to bite.

Garnet's other hand was on his side, stroking its way down towards his hip, the shift of fabric against his skin like a caress of its own. When the slender fingers drew closer to his groin, Casimir finally took the hand in his, slipping his fingers through it.

Arranging both of Garnet's hands on his chest, Casimir pulled himself on the bed completely, his stomach against Garnet's side, looking over his chest and the flat plains of his stomach. He traced the dip in Garnet's abdomen, smiling when he felt the muscles contract under his touch.

Casimir could feel that Garnet's heart was beating a little harder now, and he took his face in his hand. "Where would you like me to kiss you?" he asked, trying to soften the idea of violence in the act.

Garnet bit his lip, running his fingers through Casimir's wavy hair. "I'd… I'd rather you cut me, if that's okay with you."

"That's fine." Casimir took the hand that wasn't in his hair and turned it palm up. "Talk slow, deep breaths, and close your eyes."

Nodding, Garnet closed his eyes and let his hands fall, taking a calming breath.

Casimir wasn't going to open all of the veins in his wrist; Garnet was pale enough that he could see the map of them as they traveled up into his hand. He murmured wordless reassurances, drawing the sharp edge of his thumbnail across the selected vein and quickly pressing his open mouth to it before any precious blood could spill.