The Nightlife: Las Vegas (The Nightlife Series) (24 page)

Ana held him in place.  “We
need two dancers, girls, for a private party!”  She was on a roll with her
latest idea, “Are there any girls available to leave?  We have a limo outside.”

The vampires hugged and
kissed and rubbed all up and down each other hungrily.  As Ana made her proposal,
they both focused on Shamus, giving him the undivided attention of their
insane, heroin-blasted smiles.  He imagined they would haul him off to their
limo if he couldn’t accommodate them.

Shamus addressed Michelle. 
“Um, my boss wants to offer you a job tomorrow night, a repeat performance in
the Jell-O arena.  He loved it.  Great stuff.”  He had trouble mustering any
enthusiasm to pitch his bosses offer.  They kept looking at him like he was a
big juicy piece of steak.

Michelle’s eyes defocused,
she looked at Aaron, who looked at her.  Something passed between them, and she
pegged Robert with her entrancing gaze.

“I would like that very much!” 
She stepped up into his face and caressed his cheek with the tips of her
way-too-long, sharp nails.  “Why don’t you send the girls with us for the night
and I will consider returning for the show tomorrow.  Unless you would like to
play with me?”  She licked her lips carnivorously, reaching down between his
legs to measure his potential.

Shamus blanched.  He backed
away.  “Ah … I’ll go get a couple girls.  I’ll be … right back.”

Ten minutes later they were
escorted out the front door and down the red carpet to their waiting limousine,
two female beauties in tow.  The bisexual strippers had been chosen carefully,
explicitly warned to expect a wild finish to their night.

* * * *

Anastasia fixed shots of
Patron for her and the strippers as they cruised the Vegas strip.  All three
girls knocked back several shots apiece while the vampires proceeded to get
naked.  They had barely been able to maintain the façade of humanity in the
strip club.  Once in the limo, they dropped the act, attacking each other
ravenously.

Brandy, a short-haired blond
with a slim svelte body joined in.  She slipped off her form-fitting tank top,
exposing her perky little breasts.  The other girl, Mandy, a more voluptuous
woman with long auburn curls and freckles, proceeded to crawl across the
carpeted limo floor like a cat, working her way into Aaron and Michelle’s
laps.  She undid her bra, generous breasts with huge pink nipples burst out
into both vampire’s faces as she shared one with each of them.  Brandy slinked
her way out of her miniskirt to slide into the foray, bumping hips with Mandy
to make room atop Michelle’s lap.

Ana staggered her way over to
fall into the mix, a giggling tumble of female flesh.  Asses, tits, warm wet
thighs, rubbing-playing-carressing.  Several sets of hands vied for Aaron’s
solitary cock.  The competition was fierce for the only penis in the limo.  They
each had their turn, some more than others, some more than they could handle.

By the end, when all the
humans in the limo had their fill and then some, it came down to the two vampires
still going at it.  Aaron had Michelle down on the carpet, her claws sunk in
for purchase against his slamming thrusts from behind.  She tried her best to
maintain on hands and knees, but he shoved her down face-first, as he bellowed
with his orgasm emptying into her.

Anastasia sat on the floor,
naked, so drunk she could hardly walk.  She mewled to Aaron, reaching out to
tug on his arm as he lay collapsed atop Michelle.  “I love you so much!”  Her
speech heavily slurred.  “Marry me, now, tonight!”

She tried to sit up, lost her
balance, flopped over on her side, legs spread eagle.  The two girls Mandy and
Brandy both gasped in horror.  Ana’s inner thighs were pinkish-red.  Yet again,
he’d given her what she wanted, wicked-rough sex, and it was more than she
could safely handle.  Michelle did what she had done from the first night.  She
administered first aid to their pet via her magnificently long tongue.

The strippers looked at each
other in silent agreement.  Things had gotten way too freaky, even for them.

“Can you just let us off at
the next intersection?  We’ll take a taxi from there.”  Brandy spoke with panic
in her voice as she slipped back into her miniskirt and tank top as fast as
possible.  Mandy was right behind her, dressing with urgency as they tried not
to stare at Michelle and Ana.

Mandy added, “We really need
to get going, we’ve got to get home.  It’s already four in the morning.  I have
a day job too.”  Her voice had gone into a begging tone.  The girls wanted off
this ride and now.

Ana giggled and smiled as
Michelle took care of her.  Brandy tapped on the glass partition separating the
chauffer and repeated her request, her voice almost shrill in its urgency.  Ana
was lost in the moment, her fingers tangled in Michelle’s golden curls, her
hips pumping in time to the tongue.

Aaron shoved a pile of
twenties into Mandy’s hand.  “Don’t spend it all in one place.”  He laughed at
her as she backed away with a fistful of money, stumbling out the door
backwards, unwilling to take her eyes off him.

Ana started in on him again
as she peaked hard in Michelle’s face.  “Please!  Marry me!  Tonight!”  She
pleaded with him, screaming with her orgasm.  He could never deny her.

He married Anastasia Lucilla
Makarova in the Viva Wedding chapel before an Elvis minister.  They made
entrance into the chapel in a convertible 1964 pink Cadillac.  Elvis drove.  It
was the classic Vegas wedding, each partner blasted out of their minds.  Ana
was trashed on liquor and venom, and Aaron faded on enough high grade heroin to
give three junkies a coronary.

Michelle laughed so hard she
cried while snapping photos of their fabulous drunken pet staggering around,
trying to straighten her veil.  Aaron scooped her up and carried her the rest
of the way to the alter, she couldn’t walk anymore.

In the limo, Michelle
instructed the driver to return to Camden Estates, Demarco’s house.  Aaron
growled, “Why are we going back there?”

“For the rest of the kilo.” 
She pegged him with the stare.  The issue was not up for debate.

They arrived at Demarco’s
house scant minutes before sunrise.  He carried his sleeping bride to bed,
removed her clothes and administered another treatment of first aid.  They
cuddled around their precious pet and slept like the dead as the sun peeked
over the horizon.  Ana dozed in peaceful contentment, her husband wrapped
around her protectively.  It was the best moment of her life.  She’d never been
happier or felt more cherished and loved.

* * * *

Chapter 24

Kramer awoke first thing in the morning.  He had to find out
what the hell was going on with Demarco.  His life depended on it.  He recalled
Juan Carlos’s blatant threats when Demarco didn’t answer the door last night.

“Dis is gonna be a problem.  You got till tomorrow night
gringo.  I’m coming back to your casino tomorrow night.  Better have the rest
of my fuckin money and some answers.  If he’s buying somewhere else I wanna
know!”  JC had left him standing there at Demarco’s front door, scared
shitless.

By noon he’d left so many messages he filled up Demarco’s
voicemail box.  He’d driven past his house three times.  The Black SUV was
parked out front, covered in dirt, both driver and passenger side windows
busted out.  Something was seriously fucked up.  He had a deep down twist in
his gut, a fear he’d never known before. 
Is this how I’m going down?  Fuck
this!  I’m not dying for that piece of shit!  I’ll just have to pay the other
fifty thousand and try to find a place to unload the coke.  Demarco can go to
hell. 
After much deliberation, he decided to call a personal friend and
business associate, Michael Jamison, a private investigator.

“Yello, Jamison speaking, how can I help you?”

“You still haven’t figured out how to use the caller ID? 
You can’t see it’s me calling you? Kramer?”

“Yep, that and my VCR, still can’t figure out how to set the
damn clock for auto-record.”

He snickered.  It was a standing joke between them.  Mike
employed some very pricey high tech spy gadgetry in his investigations, but he
seemed to be behind the curve on consumer electronics, still using a VCR.

“Have you taken it in for warranty work, maybe there’s
something wrong with it.”

“I’m pretty sure that warranty expired about ten years
back.”

“Gonna have to bite the bullet and start buying Blue Rays.”

“Do they have Fletch on Blue Ray?”

“I’ll have my assistant download it and burn it off on DVD. 
She can get anything off the web, even ‘Leave it to Beaver’.”

“Deal.  We’ll work it in on a credit with the next invoice. 
So what can I do for you?”

“I have a problem.  Basically it’s a security concern.”

“Alright, I can be there in say an hour.  You available
then?”

“That works for me, I’ll buy you lunch if you haven’t eaten
yet.”

“Sounds good, I’ll see you then.”

* * * *

Michael Jamison arrived right on time.  They greeted each
other in their customary handshake.

Kramer began immediately. “I’m glad you could make it on
such short notice.  That’s one of the things I like about you.  You’re always
right there when I need you, very professional.”

Mike smiled at the overt ego stroking.

Kramer continued, “There’s a young couple I’d like you to track
down for me.  Take a look at this security footage and tell me what you think.”

Kramer showed him the highlights of the confrontation with
Aaron from the hallway security cams outside his hotel room.  He was taken
aback as he watched Aaron dispatch both guards and then turn on Kramer an
instant later.  It all happened in a blur of movement, leaving fallen and
broken men.

From his military days and Special Forces training, he
immediately recognized Aaron as an especially formidable combatant.  Noting the
black-haired woman’s amusement, she was obviously familiar with Aaron’s physical
dominance in a fight.  The scene struck him with a sense of otherworldliness,
sending a chill down his spine.  He was intrigued.  Kramer really had something
interesting here.  After all his boring days spent chasing down the mundane, a
truly exciting mystery presented itself for his study.

He asked, “Is that in real time?”  Kramer nodded yes.

“He’s a quick little bastard.”  Kramer replayed it again,
slowing it down, but Aaron’s moves were still blurred, the camera couldn’t keep
up with him.

“That’s an understatement.  Can you slow that down more? 
I’d like a close up view.”  He scooted up to the monitor.

Kramer adjusted the video with a few deft clicks of the
mouse.

“Whoohee!  He smacked you a good one eh?”  He looked to
Kramer, who took the ribbing in stride.

“Ohh yeah.  I’m still sore from that, left me a bruise the
size of his damn hand.  But that was nothing compared to the security boys.” 
Kramer pointed to the officers frozen on screen.  One on the floor, and a large
Samoan standing back out of reach, his face a grimace of pain.

“The one he dropped, Marine, six months out of Iraq.  Kid
broke two of his ribs.  He’s on a week’s paid medical leave.  The monster who
looks like he’s about to cry, his forearm’s broken in three places.  He’s
sitting behind a desk for the next month.”

Kramer looked him straight in the eye.  “What do you think?”

He exhaled heavily and ran his hands through his hair.  “I
wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley, that’s for sure.”

Kramer looked at him expectantly, anticipating a more
in-depth answer.

He was gonna have to give a
professional
opinion.  “I
suspect he’s had some advanced combat training.  Do you know if he’s
ex-military?  Special Forces?”

Kramer shook his head no.

“Here’s the background check I did on him, just the
web-based stuff available with a few mouse clicks.”  Kramer handed him a folder
marked ‘Aaron Pilan’.  “Until a few weeks ago, the kid was nothing but a waiter
in New York, a nobody.”

“Okay.  So what do you want?”

“Find out everything you can about him and the blond, her
name’s Michelle.  I don’t have a dossier on her.  I don’t even know her last
name.”

“Is that all you called me for?  I can have a thorough
background on him in a few hours.  If that’s all you wanted you could’ve sent
me an email.”

“There’s more.”  Kramer paused, seeming to carefully
consider his words.  “I think Aaron’s responsible for a kidnapping.  A close friend
of mine has gone missing.  He was last seen with the blond and Aaron at his
home here in Vegas.  I think they have done something with him.  His name’s
Alexander Demarco, and I haven’t been able to reach him since yesterday.  He
was supposed to meet me last night, he didn’t show.”

What the hell was going on here?  This sounded hinkier every
second. 
There’s something Kramer’s not telling me.
  “So … you’re really
looking for Demarco.  Why didn’t you say that to begin with?”

Kramer looked away, awkward.  “Mike, the security situation
starts here in the casino.  They connected with Demarco here at a VIP party
night before last.  I’m hiring you to investigate via the hotel account.  It
all comes back to Aaron Pilan.  Track him down and you’ll find both Demarco and
Michelle.  Here’s the address where they were last seen, Demarco’s home in Camden
Estates.”