Bound in Blood (18 page)

“He left this,” Chris said, picking it up and handing it over to Zimbowskie who holstered his gun and peered at the paper.

“Vampire bait?”

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

119

“He came to the club I used to work in a few nights ago and started babbling about vampires. The guy is obviously insane.”

“There’s a lot of them around, son. Well, looks like he’s taken off. I’ll cruise around the neighbourhood and make sure he’s gone. You wanna file a report?”

Chris hesitated, then said, “No, that’s all right. I’m going out of town for a few days anyway. Maybe he’ll find someone else to pester in the meantime.”

“Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll alert the officer who relieves me, and he’ll keep an eye open for any strange guys—or vampires—hanging around.” Zimbowskie chuckled at his joke, then he and the jogger turned to leave. Chris followed them down the steps then headed for his original destination. He really needed that coffee now!

Joey called Chris later that day. “Still on for the movies?”

“Yeah, just make sure it’s not about vampires.”

“I thought you liked vampire movies,” Joey chuckled.

“I used to, but I’ve got this creep stalking me, telling me he’s a vampire hunter and I have to show him where they
rest
.”

“Shut up! Where’d he come from?”

“Who knows. He was outside my apartment this morning, leaving a note that said I was vampire bait.”

“Chris…” Joey’s voice deepened with concern. “This is not good. You’d better stay over at my place tonight.”

“I might just take you up on that. The guy kinda creeped me out. Anyway, I’ll pick you up about six, okay?”

“Okay. And bring your toothbrush.”

Frowning, Joey closed his cell phone.
Poor Chris,
he thought
. He just can’t catch a break.

First, he breaks up with Carlos, now he has a crazy stalker. If anyone really could use a big hunky man
like Carlos in his life right now, it’s my buddy Chris.

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

120

Loath though he was to admit it, Martin was beginning to realise he needed help to track the vampire. The kid, Chris, had managed to escape from him again. He would have gotten him if the cop hadn’t been so damned handy, but he’d sensed something different about Chris this time around. Martin had inherited a gift from his grandmother. An instinctual perception which, although he had never tried to understand it or improve on it, had been invaluable to him on occasion when dealing with paranormal situations. In his confrontation with Chris earlier in the day, he’d realised that not only did the kid not know his friend was a vampire, he was now no longer aware of their friendship.

Their friendship had been erased from his mind.

Which could only mean one thing. The vampire had revealed himself, and the kid had freaked. He could thank his lucky stars his memory was the only thing the vampire had taken. Sometimes, they ended up a blood sandwich. The vampire must have really liked the kid, and that was a good thing, because it meant Martin could still use Chris to get to him.

And something else he’d been aware of—all too aware of—that knee to the groin had really hurt. The kid was stronger and faster than he should be for his height and weight. Not nearly as strong as a full-fledged vampire, but he’d bet there had been blood involved, whether Chris knew it or not. That meant the vampire was closely attuned to the kid, and again, that would work in Martin’s favour. Martin was pretty sure that if Chris was in any real danger, El Nosferatu would come flying to the rescue—and this time, he, Martin, wouldn’t make any mistakes.

Pulling out his cell phone, he punched in a number he knew by heart.

“Vince? Martin here, how are you?”

“Good. Whatcha got?”

“I’m in LA tracking a bloodsucker. I got close once, but he’s strong, plus some fool got in the way.”

“That was careless, Martin.”

“I know that,” Martin snapped.

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

121

“What happened to the so-called ESP you’re so damned proud of—or is that so much bullshit, like the rest of your stories?”

“It won’t happen again,” Martin snapped, ignoring Vince’s insult. “I need help on this one, so are you available?”

“Okay, but to remedy an aborted attempt, I charge more.”

“What do you mean ‘charge’? You’re supposed to be my partner. How much more?”

“Seventy-five percent of the bounty.”

“That’s outrageous.”

“Take it or leave it.”

Martin ground his teeth as he listened to Vince’s loud yawn of feigned disinterest. “All right, it’s a deal.”

“Too easy, Martin,” Vince snickered. “Too quick to accept. You’ll try and cut me out once the job is done. Whatcha got in the bank?”

“You want payment upfront? That’s unheard of.”

“Until now. I know you, Martin—ergo, I don’t trust you. After all, you didn’t tell me you were on the hunt until you blew it and needed my help. Am I right?”

“Forget it,” Martin snarled.

“Suit yourself.” The line went dead.

“Son-of-a-bitch!” Martin snapped closed his cell phone. Instinctively, he knew Vince wouldn’t leave it there. Now he was aware there was a vampire to be caught, he’d be in LA within a few hours—and Vince was good. Martin cursed under his breath. On top of the kid being as slippery as an eel, now he’d have to contend with Vince trying to get to the vampire first. Damn it all to hell!

Billy woke, feeling like he’d been run over by a fire engine. Every bone in his body ached like they were being squeezed in a metal vice, and his head hurt so bad it was painful just to open his eyes. When he did force them open, the first thing he saw was Frank’s sourpuss, and he quickly shut them again.

“Wake up, Billy.” Frank’s nasal whine grated on Billy’s overly sensitive hearing.

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

122

“Oh, man, I feel like shit,” Billy moaned.

“I got some coffee goin’, but I ain’t no butler, so get up and help yourself. Then we need to talk.”

Fuck
. Billy knew he shouldn’t have asked Frank if he could stay just one more night, but he’d hurt all over—still did. But now, Frank wanted something for letting him stay the extra night. “What about?” he asked, struggling off the couch.

“The kid from the Xtasy Club. You know where he lives, right?”

“What about it?”

“I want you to show me where the little prick hangs out, so you and me can go over there and get him while his big friend is nowhere around.”

Billy poured himself a mug of coffee. “His big friend is a vampire, Frank, and I ain’t goin’ anywheres near him again.”

“Vampire, shmampire, Billy. I told you, there’s no such thing.” Frank waved a hand dismissively. “And besides, I just said we’d get the kid when the big guy isn’t around.”

“That would have to be in the daytime then.”

Frank sighed with exasperation. “The
daytime
? We’re just gonna walk up there in broad daylight, let him see us comin’ so he can call the cops? What are you, nuts?”

“But, Frank,” Billy quavered. “Vampires can’t come out in the daytime.”

“Shut the fuck up about vampires!” Frank’s face grew purple with frustrated rage.

“Once and for all, there is no such thing!”

“You’re wrong, Frank.” Billy sat on the couch and started to pull on his shoes. “I know what I saw with my own eyes, and that was no human being who got stabbed in the back and still had the strength to pick me up and throw me off the balcony. And that asshole vampire hunter wouldn’t be no use either. If you don’t believe me, and you want the kid so bad,
you
go get him by yourself.”

“So give me the address, Billy,” Frank snarled. “I can handle that punk kid all by myself.”

“Good luck with that. He lives in Weho, corner of Sequoia and Spruce, second floor.”

Billy glared at his soon to be ex-buddy through jaundice-yellow eyes. “One day, Frank, you’ll wish you’d listened to me about all this. Go near that kid, and you’ll be sorry.”

“Fuck off!”

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

123

“I intend doing just that,” Billy muttered, pushing himself off the couch. “I’m outta here!”

Frank slumped back in his chair as Billy marched out through the door, slamming it behind him. “What a dumb schmuck,” he muttered. “What a loser.”

Nightfall, and Carlos was anxious to make certain Chris was not being stalked by the vampire hunter or perhaps by the men in the alley out seeking revenge for the beating he had inflicted on them. Blending in with the shadows cast by the tall trees that lined the street, he stared across at the apartment building and felt better on realising Chris was not at home.

His mind reached out to touch Chris’ thoughts, and he smiled sadly as his consciousness picked up Chris’ laughter and animated conversation.

“He’s with a friend,” he murmured and tried to feel good about that. They had been apart only one day, but it was the thought of the endless days to come when they would still be apart that filled his heart with grief. He stiffened as he saw some movement near Chris’

door.

Not the hunter, he instinctively knew. Someone clumsy, malicious, intent on doing damage. Soundlessly, he glided across the street and up the steps that led to Chris’ front door. A man, crouched over and completely oblivious to Carlos’ presence, tried to jimmy the door open.

“Can I help you?”

Frank gave out a startled yelp of fear and jumped a good foot off the ground. He fell over onto his hands and knees, the metal jimmy skittering towards Carlos, who picked it up, and tossed it over the side of the steps.

“I don’t think you will need that anymore, do you?”

Frank got slowly to his feet, his eyes casting about for the best direction in which to run.

He looked up at Carlos. Shit. It was the guy from the alley. He’d never be able to put this one down, even if he still had the jimmy in his hand—which he didn’t.

“I, uh, locked myself out,” he croaked.

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

124

“You are a liar. I know who lives here, and I know you were planning some mischief.”

Frank quaked visibly. This guy was totally scary. In the alley, he’d looked tall, but Frank didn’t remember him being
this
tall or so
fierce
looking.

“Me? No, no…I must have been trying the wrong door.” Frank attempted to laugh, but it came out more like a choked sob. “Okay, just let me go. I won’t come back, I swear.”

“I know you won’t come back.” Carlos reached for Frank, grabbed him by his coat collar and lifted him off the ground. Frank squealed with fear. Carlos walked to the edge of the steps then raised himself into the air.

“
No,
” Frank screamed. “This can’t be happening!”

“But it is happening,” Carlos murmured, picking up some speed.

Frank writhed and struggled in Carlos’ grasp, until he heard his coat rip. “
No
! Don’t let me fall. Please don’t let me fall!”

And Carlos did let him fall then caught up with the screaming man as he plummeted towards the hard, unyielding ground below, grabbing him again by the scruff of his neck.

Frank finally stopped screaming. He had passed out. Carlos set him down on a stretch of desert several hundred miles from Los Angeles then settled down on his haunches and waited for him to regain consciousness. Whimpering as he came round, Frank stared at him, eyes stark with fear when they focused on Carlos .

“Billy was right,” he croaked. “You’re a…you’re a—”

“Vampire,” Carlos finished for him. “Yes, Billy was right and was afraid, just as you should now be.” He grabbed the lapels of Frank’s coat and drew him near. His nostrils flared with disgust at the smell of Frank’s urine. The man had peed his pants. Over Frank’s almost incoherent pleas for mercy, he said, “Perhaps now you will leave Christopher alone. For if you do not, next time, I promise you I will not be so kind.” He let Frank fall back from his grip and stood, towering over the quivering man. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, yes.” Frank grovelled at Carlos’ feet. His jaw went slack as Carlos lifted himself into the air and flew away, leaving Frank alone in the dark and very far from home.

BOUND IN BLOOD

J. P. Bowie

125

“So, what are we going to do about this situation?” Roger asked Micah. The two of them were leaving a Beverly Centre multiplex where they had just seen a rerun of
Shadow of
the Vampire
.

“You mean the vampire hunter?” Micah asked. “I thought Marcus, Joseph and Carlos were dealing with that.”

Roger frowned. “I guess we should all be dealing with it, but I meant the situation with Carlos and Chris.”

“What can we do about that? Carlos has erased himself from Chris’ memory. We can’t change that.”

“Who says?”

“Joseph says,” Micah said, chuckling. “We were talking about this last night. Carlos gave Chris his blood. They were bonded because of that, but Carlos severed the bond, and only he can fix it.”

“Damn,” Roger muttered. “I was hoping you and I could maybe go see Chris and—”

“Are you nuts?” Micah stared at him in disbelief. “Do you know what trouble we’d be in if we interfered in this? Sometimes Roger, you are just too much.”

“Well, I’ve tried talking to Carlos, and he won’t do anything ‘cept roam about, making sure Chris is okay. The guy’s hurting. He’s in love, Micah.”

“I know he is, and the situation stinks, Roger, but we can’t go trying to change things.

We might make it a lot worse. By the way, Joseph told me the Vampire Council informed him that the vampire hunter, Martin Kellogg, is one of only four actively hunting vampires in the States. He and some other guy, Vince LaGuardia, usually work together, but Kellogg is loning it this time.”

“So he hasn’t any backup?”

“No. And from what Carlos told us about Chris getting the better of him a couple of times, he’s not very smart.”