The Nightlife: Las Vegas (The Nightlife Series) (14 page)

“That’s the one.”

“Okay good, see you soon.”  Kramer hung up the phone,
wondering if it was a mistake to get involved in Demarco’s vendetta.  Then he
recalled the encounter with Aaron outside his hotel room.  Two security guards
down and out, both collecting sick pay, and the marine still in the hospital. 
And then there was Michelle. 
I definitely need to hit that a few more times.
 
But if he was to have her on his terms, Aaron Pilan needed to be removed from
the equation somehow.  Might as well let Demarco handle it.

* * * *

Chapter 14

Anastasia awoke to a parched dry thirst and a splitting
headache.  She was horribly dehydrated and anemic from low blood volume.  She
fought to untangle herself from her lovers’ tightly cocooned embrace of naked
limbs.  Their lovingly entwined intimacy gave her the warm and fuzzies, but
nature called. 
How wonderful, I can’t escape, they’ve got me trapped.  I’m
gonna piss the bed
.

After several feebly ridiculous attempts, she flipped,
flopped, and tumbled off the bed.  The onset of a pounding headache ruined her
lovely cherished feeling.  She dragged herself off the floor to drain a bottle
of water and a glass of orange juice before hitting the restroom.  She’d hoped
the fluids would chase off her headache, but it intensified.  She felt drawn
back to the bed, back to
them
.  She needed them like an infant needs its
mother, like a dying man needs a priest.  Ana kept glancing back at her naked
lovers who seemed
dead
to the world.

She suspected they weren’t really dead, just sleeping … like
the
dead
.  Very soundly asleep.

She hit the minibar and went straight for the vodka
murmuring, “Hair of the dog that bit me …”  After three shots back to back and
a grimace from the burn, her headache started dying down.  She ordered room
service and wolfed down eggs, fruit, sausage, and heavy wheat toast.  She was
ravenously hungry.

In the bathroom, after her shower, she stood before the
mirror, assessing the damage.  Her eyes looked a little sunken, she’d lost some
weight.  They were sucking the life out of her, literally.  That’s when it hit
like punch to the gut, she needed them…
NOW!

Her hands shook, her belly rolled over in nausea, and she
broke into a cold sweat.  The closer she got to their bed, the more hysterical
she felt.  “Fuck!  God dammit!” 
It was 4:30 p.m., at least another hour
till sunset!
  “Oh gaaad help meeee!”  She cried, tears streaming down her
face.  And that’s when she remembered.

The injection!  Michelle set it aside last night!
 
She raced to the shelf, tearing open the diabetic kit to remove the needle with
shaking hands.  She needed a tie-off, something to tie her arm off.  Ana yanked
one of Michelle’s belts from a dresser drawer and cinched it down tight on her
left arm just above the bicep.  The belt holes didn’t line up.  She pulled it
tight with her teeth as she smacked the inner crook of her elbow with two
fingers to watch the vein pop out in her left arm.  With hands shaking and sweat
pouring down her forehead, she carefully inserted the needle into her vein. 
Slowly,
oh so slowly
.  She mustered enough control to gradually-carefully depress
the plunger all the way down.

Dropping the belt from her teeth, it hit her all at once. 
The venom punched her entire body, rocketing to her erogenous zones in
milliseconds, dumping massive endorphins all along the way.  She rocked and
spasmed.  Her back arched as she screamed her delight.  She climaxed over and
over, soaking through her bathrobe onto the plush hotel armchair with her
gushing wetness.  Unnaturally concentrated, the punch hit much harder than the
usual effect of Aaron’s bites.

The blast of injected venom was pure heaven, like sex,
heroin, and cocaine all rolled into one.  Absolutely no way on earth, heaven,
or hell she would ever break this addiction.  She’d give up her first born
child to have it.  She was irreversibly, indisputably hooked, hard and fast.  She
began to realize some decisions cannot be undone no matter how hard you try.  She
didn’t even want to try.  Her life now depended on access to their venom.

She came to her senses eventually, cleaned up in the
bathroom and climbed back in bed to snuggle into Aaron’s unconscious embrace. 
She was snoring in minutes, full of the contentment of a babe in her father’s
arms.

* * * *

The vampires arose at sunset cuddling close together
nuzzling with their new pet, giving her all the affection she craved and
needed.  Michelle noticed the party invitation slipped under the hotel room
door.

“We are cordially invited to the VIP party at nine.  Complementary
buffet and drinks.  How nice of Mr. Kramer to think of us.”

She winked at Aaron as he scowled at the news.  He knew she
intended to go to the party.  He had a bad feeling about this.

Michelle smiled at him reassuringly, “Don’t worry.  If there
is a
problème
we can
take care of it.  These cattle are no match for you!”  She kissed him.  He
agreed silently.  Her reasoning seemed sound, but the predator’s instincts
raged against all reason and logic.

They dressed and headed down to the party arriving late. 
Kramer greeted them like old friends.  He immediately introduced Michelle to
several prominent guests, exactly as promised.  Aaron tried to read Kramer to
ascertain his intentions, but all he caught was a vague plan to introduce
Michelle to a friend who wanted a date with her.  Aaron sensed something devious
afoot, but as usual, Kramer’s mind focused on all things Michelle.  He stayed a
couple moments, smiling and shaking hands, but Anastasia drew his attention.

She had taken off to the bar.  Gone for only a few minutes,
a huge Mexican had moved in on her.  She had a blast guzzling red wine and
snacking from the buffet while she chatted it up the guy.  Aaron frowned as he
watched the Mexican following her around.  The guy seemed a little too
appreciative of her beauty.

He left Michelle to Kramer’s devices in trade for rescuing
Ana.

She turned to Aaron with a smile and a wet kiss on his cheek
as she introduced the Mexican, Miguel, who supposedly worked as a stuntman in
Hollywood films.  Her eyes had already started to glaze.  Ana had a good buzz
and seemed completely unaware of the menace standing at her elbow.

Aaron wrapped his arm around Ana, snugging her up tight
against him as focused on Miguel.

“Hi, nice to meet you … How do you like Vegas this time of
the year? … Wonderful weather …”  The inane pleasantries dragged on and on.

There was definitely something off about Miguel.  The man’s
thoughts centered on a completely different matter from the cordial chitchat. 
He really needed to get Aaron to follow him to another room where somebody
named Demarco awaited them.

Aaron recalled hearing the name before, something to do with
Kramer.

Anastasia distracted his mental game of connect-the-dots
squirming under his arm.  “Don’t take off on me.  I’m going to the restroom. 
I’ll be back before you know it.”  She pecked him on the cheek again, leaving
him with Miguel.

Aaron felt he was getting close.  He really wanted to pursue
this Demarco thing.  He knew it related to Kramer.

“So, what brings you to Vegas?”  He bored into Miguel as the
Mexican tried to feign a casual answer.

“Ah well, you know, a little fun in the sun.  I like the
nightlife too, is muy bueno.” 
He lives and works in Vegas, not a tourist at
all
.

Miguel looked nervous, a completely unnatural anxiety for
such a large physically imposing man––over six feet tall, near three hundred pounds
of muscle.  He didn’t add up.  He appeared to have some money, appropriately
dressed for VIP status, but he wasn’t there to party.  He was there
specifically for Aaron. 
How interesting
.

“So you’re a stunt man eh?  Films and stuff?”

“Yeah.  I do that live wild-west show.  You know, stick em
up gringo!”  He grinned wide, making a pretend pistol with his thumb and forefinger
pointed at Aaron.

Miguel had actually worked a show like that in the past, in
California.  But that was not his current profession.  Miguel was a hired thug
for Demarco.

 “Hey, there’s someone you should meet.  He’s a personal
friend of mine.”  He tried to be casual as he directed Aaron to follow him
through a side door into an adjoining room.

Under different circumstances he would never follow a guy
like this, but he wanted to meet Demarco.  He wanted to get to the bottom of
this mystery as bad as Miguel wanted to take him there.  He played follow the
leader without a word of question.

* * * *

Upon entering the room, Miguel closed the door behind them
and stepped off to Aaron’s side, gesturing in the direction of two men across
the room.  Aaron scanned and studied the man who threatened him with a pistol. 
He recognized his profile and a certain familiarity to his thought patterns. 
Demarco
,
the man who lost all that money a couple nights ago.

Demarco aimed the strange looking pistol directly at him
with an evil smile of gloating triumph that left no mistake of his character or
intentions.  The monstrous bear of a Mexican standing next to Demarco sneered
at Aaron, “Te cargo la verga––
you’re fucked.
”

Demarco fired as Aaron snapped into action twisting sideways
to avoid the shot.  The strange gun made the slightest puncture noise like a
tire popping.  He was almost successful at removing himself from the line of
fire.  Had the shot been a slug from a standard pistol, it would have barely
grazed the triceps of his left arm.

Since it was a dart from a dart gun, it stuck him right in
the triceps muscle where it hit.  Demarco and his goons had the remarkable
foresight to employ darts loaded with tetrodotoxin extracted from blowfish by a
local sushi chef.  The toxin, 10,000 times more lethal than cyanide, was one of
nature’s deadly wonders.  By inhibiting the nervous system’s ability to function,
the toxin caused rapid paralysis, typically resulting in death.  In addition,
Demarco loaded his darts with an animal tranquilizer called ketasec,
special
K
, in sufficient dosage to drop an elephant.

Demarco bagged himself some big game.  The double punch
slammed Aaron immediately, instant numbness dampening his senses.  Thick,
smothering molasses coated each limb, inhibiting movement.  His tongue swelled,
filling his mouth.  Time came to stand still, nothing moved.  Gloating smiles
twisted and distorted in his face, Cheshire-cat grins stretching wide.  Like a
great tree felled by the stroke of the axe stroke, his equilibrium slid off
kilter.

He fought a losing battle with every last ounce of strength,
simply to remain standing.  Falling on his face, he accomplished one thing.  He
delivered a smashing blow to Miguel’s left thigh, sending him flying across the
room to tumble off the floor into the wall.

As his vision faded to black, he concentrated hard on
Demarco.  By the time he ferreted out all the details of Demarco and Kramer’s
plans, it was too late to warn Michelle.  He passed directly into heavily
sedated oblivion mumbling a quiet promise, “You are soooo dead, you don’t even
know….”

* * * *

Ana returned from the restroom seeking Aaron.  She didn’t
see him at the buffet, and couldn’t find him in the immediate vicinity.  She
hit the bar, taking full advantage of all the free Patron tequila.  She drank,
the bartender poured.  They were fast friends.

“Ya gotta love an open bar with free drinks.  I don’t care
who ya are.”  She winked at the bartender.

Several shots with lime and salt kicked in a solid buzz. 
She continued to scan the party for Aaron or Miguel with no luck.

She noticed Michelle still in conversation with Kramer and
gang.  They only had eyes for Michelle, those disgusting filthy looks old men
are capable of when no one else is around to notice.  She shivered at the nest
of vipers surrounding Michelle.  Then it hit her, how
funny
they all
looked.  These predatory business men who were accustomed to victimizing others
for profit were now being sized up as prey for a real live predator in the
flesh. 
There’s always a bigger fish
.

These wealthy old lechers were a school of tiny piranhas who
had unwittingly entered shark infested waters.  They chatted it up with a
lethal blond mako shark who viewed them as a tasty little morsel.  No longer at
the top of the food chain and they didn’t have the first clue.

Ana giggled at the analogy and downed another shot of
Patron. 
Getting snookered pretty fast.

* * * *

Miguel and Oso shuffled along carrying Aaron’s dead weight
out the service elevator and hefted him up into the trunk of Demarco’s Black
Chevy Tahoe.  Aaron’s last action left Miguel’s right leg black and blue from
the hip all the way to his knee.  He walked with a painful limp.

“Here, this is where you’re gonna dump him.  See the dirt
road goes off the highway for several miles, that’s where I want you to leave
him out in the open.”  Demarco scrolled through a map of the Nevada desert north
of Vegas pointing out the location to Miguel.  “I’m sending this to your cell
now.  Got it?”

“Yep.”

Demarco figured if Aaron’s body was ever found and
identified from dental records or DNA, there would be no real flesh or tissue
remaining to test for chemical traces that might reveal the true cause of
death.  The coyotes and desert scavengers would pick Aaron’s bones clean within
a couple days.  Not as gratifying as the strangulation he had originally
envisioned, but it would have to do.  After watching the security videos of
Aaron’s encounter with the two guards outside Kramer’s room, they decided it
best to be more cautious in handling the boy.  This wasn’t the first time
Demarco had done this to remove an obstacle in his business affairs, but it was
the first time he had killed for what amounted to personal reasons.