Fresh Blood (3 page)

If she’d been a feeder, he’d have bought
her.

Maybe the hollow in his gut was hunger rather
than self-doubt. He’d figure out which later on.

“I’m not going to take you to Danger--Danger.
You’re not ready for that. We’ll start out at Club Dead. It’s a
little more upscale, not as loud. If your sister’s there, we should
be able to locate her pretty quickly.”

“Fine. I want to hit as many places as we can
tonight,” she said as she clicked her seatbelt in place. He watched
her out of the corner of his eye as he guided the car out of the
parking lot. A block later they were back in human territory and
surrounded by late night traffic.

“You have to prepare for some of these
places. I’ll take you to the lighter ones, where I usually make my
rounds on the weekends. Some of the places, even I need a reason to
go into. I can’t just show up and flash my badge.”

“Why not?” Her curiosity amused him and
annoyed him at the same time. “If you’re investigating--”

“Even human cops need warrants. They can’t
just barge in anywhere. Some of these clubs are private estates,
and what goes on there usually isn’t subject to investigation. They
have their own security staff, and sometimes they work with us.
Sometimes they don’t.”

“So some vampires don’t have to follow the
rules?”

“It’s the same with humans sometimes, isn’t
it? We have our own way of dealing with the troublemakers. Don’t
become a troublemaker.” He punctuated his subtle warning with a
half-grin.

She nodded, but he saw the wheels turning.
She wasn’t going to be deterred. That made her dangerous to herself
and to him.

“You have to trust me on this. I know what
I’m talking about. If you want to help your sister, and if she
really is in some kind of trouble, you’ve got to be careful how you
go about things. Even in a regular bar, you’re not going to just
waltz in, grab her by the hand and waltz back out. If someone owns
her ...”

Max winced as soon as he said it. He gripped
the steering wheel tighter during the outburst that followed.

“No one owns my sister! She’s not some slave
to a vampire. I know that!”

“No. You don’t.” He shot her a cautious look.
With her chin up and her vibrant lower lip caught in her teeth, she
looked tough and sexy.

“I don’t think you know anything about
vampire society, and if your sister is in trouble and she got into
something that she wants out of, she probably didn’t know anything
either.”

She sighed angrily. “Then why don’t you
explain it to me?”

She probably didn’t really want to know. “A
lot of times, feeders relinquish control to their vampires. Some
want to be turned so they do whatever they’re asked to in exchange
for a chance at immortality.” The words left a sour taste. It
wasn’t a subject he liked to talk about. He wasn’t proud of some of
the promises he’d made when the gnawing hunger robbed him of his
reasoning ability. He’d learned his lesson well--never go too long
without feeding--never to act human for so long that he forgot what
he was.

“You think she’s selling her soul?” Her
pretty voice became a croak. The smell of fear momentarily
overpowered her enticing scent.

“I hope we can get to her before that
happens. But I want to warn you, you’re going to see things you
won’t like, and if you want to get inside, you’ve got to pretend it
doesn’t bother you. Are you willing to do that? If not, I will take
you home right now, and I’ll conduct the investigation by myself
... which is how I’d prefer to do it anyway.”

“No.”

He tapped the break pedal. Was she really
smart enough to back off now while she still could?

“No?”

“No. I’m going to find Elena. I’ll do what I
have to. I can’t let her turn herself into a vampire.”

Max laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“It takes two to make a vampire.”

“Whatever. Look, it’s not something I like to
talk about, but Elena drinks too much. She does drugs sometimes.
She likes men who mistreat her. In my opinion, all those things can
be cured--with the right kind of help. But there’s no cure for
‘vampire’ .... right?”

He smirked. He’d looked for one, in the
beginning, when he thought he’d go mad from the craving for blood.
“None that I know of. Except for death. That cures the condition
pretty quickly.”

“Then I’ve got to stop her. Even if it’s what
she thinks she wants.”

“All right. Then you have to do exactly as I
say when we’re inside. Do you understand?”

She nodded and he just knew she didn’t
understand. Not completely. They were going to hit a rocky road. It
was just a matter of time.

* * * *

Erica shivered as she got out of Max’s car.
She already didn’t like the way things were going, but she didn’t
see a choice but to go along with him. The things he’d told her to
expect inside Club Dead made her skin crawl just a little. The last
thing Erica had the stomach for was anything deviant. Elena had
told her stories about aberrant human behavior that still kept her
awake some nights. She couldn’t imagine what a glimpse of vampire
life would do to her, but she couldn’t back out now.

She waited while Max came around the car. He
took her hand and pulled her toward the side of the building,
which, from the outside, looked very similar to After Dark. The
place was nondescript with darkened windows and no glowing marquis
like human clubs boasted. She didn’t hear any music coming from
within this time, which surprised her. She expected the place to be
loud and obnoxious just like After Dark.

“Don’t we get to go in the front this time?”
she asked as he herded her around the corner of the building.
Another car pulled into the parking lot just then and Hart shielded
her from view, stopping in front of her.

She looked up into his face and stifled a
scream. His fangs were showing.

“What the--”

“I promise it won’t hurt.”

He pulled her to him in a swift movement that
caught her off balance. She stumbled forward, putting her hands up
against his chest to brace herself. She struggled against his iron
grip as his arms came around her and trapped her against him. Fear
stole her breath, and the bloodcurdling scream she planned came out
as an impotent squeak.

Her knees buckled when the needle sharp
points of his incisors pierced her neck.

But it didn’t hurt.

When he set her back on her feet, she wobbled
a little and he steadied her. “I’m sorry about that.”

“What did you--” She swiped her hand over the
spot, still oddly warm from the pressure of his lips. Bright red
blood covered her fingers.

“I marked you as mine.”

The words sent a wanton pulse to the suddenly
wet spot between her legs. Those were the sexiest words she’d ever
heard.

She slapped him.

“You can’t just go around biting people!” The
sudden adrenaline rush cleared her head a little, and she realized
how absurd she sounded.

Max rubbed the left side of his jaw and
grinned. The humor in his eyes didn’t completely mask the dangerous
hint of lust Erica saw there. How could what just happened have
turned them both on?

“I don’t go around biting people. I marked
you. I didn’t drink any. I just broke the skin so it looks like
I’ve been feeding from you.”

Erica stared at her bloody fingertips for a
second before Max handed her a folded handkerchief from his back
pocket. She wiped her hands and dabbed at the still tingling spot
on her neck. “You could have warned me.”

“You’d have said no, and we’d be out here
arguing about it until daybreak.”

True. If he’d asked permission to bite her,
she would have refused. Biting was ... unsanitary at best. The fact
that she liked it--no. She didn’t like it. That was ridiculous.
She’d been scared out of her mind, limp with terror, unable to
scream. She didn’t like that feeling at all. Absolutely not. She
mentally reserved the right to slap him again later just for good
measure. For now, she had to find Elena.

“Anything else I should know before we go
in?” She straightened her skirt and fluffed her hair in a vain
attempt to recapture some of her dignity. She’d never gone limp in
a man’s arms before--ever. Frankly, it was embarrassing.

“One thing ...” His wicked smile did
something to the muscles just below her navel. “You taste
great.”

Max waited until the occupants of the other
car entered the club before he led Erica around to the front of the
building. He stopped with his hand on the curving handle of the
front door and gave her a hard look. “Last chance to back out.”

“Open the door.”

Her response didn’t surprise him. What did,
however, was that he found her tough act endearing. She definitely
had courage. Maybe on someone else he would have called it
unbridled stupidity, but on her it worked. The quiet desperation in
her eyes touched a long-neglected chord in him and he decided,
despite his better judgment, that she just might be smart enough to
play it cool.

He opened the door, and they entered the
sultry atmosphere of Club Dead.

Inside, Melinda, the Friday-night hostess,
sat on a four-foot high stool next to the inner door. Her skinny
legs, sheathed in black stockings, twined around each other, and
she balanced a narrow leather guest book in her lap. The vampiress
smiled at him, showing off her newly sharpened fangs.

“Max! You look great, as always. Who’s this?
Someone new?” There was just a hint of ferocity in the look she
gave Erica. That had nothing to do with Max. Melinda barely
tolerated human women. She preferred to feed from males.

“This is--”

“Ricki,” Erica blurted the pseudonym, drawing
a frown from Melinda. “Hi.”

Max yanked her arm, hard. “That’s enough
talk.” He smiled apologetically at Melinda. “She’s very new.”

The hostess nodded, but disapproval colored
her pale features. “Table for two?”

“Yes.”

“Go on in.” Melinda touched a button on the
wall behind her. The inner doors opened, and she ushered them
deeper into the club.

Max felt Erica stiffen as he pulled her
inside the darkened interior where black lights illuminated the
carefully painted décor. It looked like a neon garden. Here and
there spotlights shone on couples and triples engaged in everything
from quiet conversation to blatantly sexual feeding frenzies.

He tugged again, and Erica stumbled after
him. “Keep walking,” he said in his most severe tone.

“I think you--” He cut off her protest with a
fang-bearing sneer then splayed his fingers over the bite mark on
her neck where he applied just enough pressure to cause
discomfort.

“Remember what we discussed. In here, you do
everything I say, when I say it. If you have a problem with the way
I treat you, we’ll discuss it when the evening is over.”

He saw her swallow another sharp remark. To
her credit, she broke eye contact first, dropping her gaze in
nearly perfect subservience.

“Let’s get to our table. I’m thirsty.” He
pulled her gently this time, and she kept up with his pace as he
made his way through the club to the very back where the B-list
patrons got to sit. Once there, he guided her to a chair and then
pulled his own as close to hers as possible. Under the table, he
put one hand on her exposed knee and squeezed then slid his thumb
up beneath the taut strap of her garter.

“Those shoes are too high for you. The next
time we go out, wear something more comfortable. I don’t want you
stumbling all over the place.”

She nodded, and he squeezed her thigh in
approval.

With his index finger he traced a line down
her jaw and into the collar of her blouse. He gently pushed the
material aside, exposing one thin strap of her bra, which he nudged
off the curve of her shoulder. “That’s better. Now, I’m going to
tell you, in detail everything I’m going to do to you tonight, do
you understand?”

Again she nodded, and again he squeezed.

“First I’m going to order you a drink. Then
I’m going to teach you everything you need to know about being a
feeder ... one delicious drop at a time.”

* * * *

Erica fought to steady her breathing as Max
caressed her thigh beneath the table. The thud of her own wild
pulse drowned out much of what he was saying, which was a good
thing, because her cognitive skills had bottomed out the moment
they walked inside.

The humid atmosphere had surprised her at
first. She hadn’t expected a tropical feel to the place, and if
that had been the only shock, she would have been fine.

When her eyes adjusted to the black light she
saw the neon splotches of color that dripped from the walls,
puddled on the floor and ran in rivulets across the tables and
chairs. The décor didn’t shock her as much as the patrons,
though.

The first couple that had come into view as
they entered the club seemed perfectly normal. Seated at a small
table, their half-finished meal before them, the man pulled the
woman to him in a romantic embrace. Her eyes widened when he bit
into her neck, and Erica imagined she heard the rush of blood as he
suckled. The woman moaned in carnal pleasure, and her eyes lit on
Erica’s for a brief moment. Her short dark hair and thin white
shoulders looked achingly familiar, causing Erica’s heart to pump
an overdose of adrenaline into her system. By the time her brain
registered that the woman was not Elena, her head was pounding in
time to her heartbeat, and her legs had begun to tremble.

At the next table they passed, a woman sat on
her knees at the feet of a sedate looking man in an Armani suit.
Another woman sat on his lap, leaning back against his chest as he
drank from her and caressed her breasts through the nearly
transparent fabric of her blouse. Erica stared at the thin,
glittering chain that connected the woman on the floor to the woman
on the man’s lap by leather cuffs on their wrists.