The Nightlife: London (Urban Fantasy Romance) (The Nightlife Series) (7 page)

Men like Bresnik were easy to read.  Once you understood
their lifestyle and business, their motives became underwhelmingly transparent.

When he left Paris, Mike had thought London would be an
interesting vacation.  See the sights, get a taste for British blood, but then
he had met Laura.  The thought of staying had started to look appealing as
Laura offered him wealth and property.  But now the vacation was over, and
Mike’s illusions of a calm, quiet life were swept away in the face of these two
murdering vampires determined to hunt him down.

The fool Albanian who thought he had opportunity on his
hands smiled at Mike, one of those reptilian grins full of teeth, but no real
mirth.  “I imagine the Colombians are still looking for them, no?”

“I imagine you’re right.” 
Give the Albanian some points
for originality.

* * * *

Aaron tossed and turned in the hotel bed as a beckoning
voice dragging him out of a sound sleep.  {{Come to me now.  We must talk.}}

Urvashi dragged Aaron from deep slumber with her compulsory
demand.  Michelle’s limp, naked limbs were draped around him possessively, as
though subconsciously she needed assurance that he’d never leave her again.  He
slowly slid out from under her, placing a kiss on her cool cheek.

To someone who didn’t understand, she could easily be mistaken
for dead.  Their metabolisms slowed to a crawl as they slept.

He knew instantly it was too early.  He sensed the daylight
pressing against the blacked-out windows of their suite.  One of the most
immediate benefits of Urvashi’s blood in his body was a tolerance for
daylight.  But the heavy fatigue dragged him back down towards sleep.

{{Wake up.  I need to talk to you.}}

Her powerful demand forced his body to climb out of bed
against his own will.  He stood, groggy and pissed off.  He had once been burnt
very badly in the Nevada desert, and he wished never to repeat the experience.  Urvashi
may have changed him, and daylight could no longer harm him, but Aaron retained
a vampire’s fear of the sun.  He cringed at the thought of daylight.

Wrapped in a bathrobe, sluggish with the need to sleep, he
trudged down the hallway to Urvashi’s room.

She opened the door just as he started to knock.  “You
really must learn to function during the day.  The rest of the world does.”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.”  He slumped onto her bed and curled
up, tired, wanting to go back to sleep.

Renault stepped out of the other room attached to Urvashi’s
suite wearing a crisp three-piece suit, a snarl on his face.

Aaron lifted his head.  “I thought I smelled wet dog.”

Renault didn’t bother to answer Aaron’s half-asleep taunt. 
Though short, compact, and seemingly in his fifties, Aaron knew Renault was
much more than he appeared, like everyone else in his life.  The man stank of
earthy scents and musky animal.

Renault looked at Urvashi and pretended Aaron didn’t exist. 
“I will be waiting for you in the lobby.”  He wheeled out a heaping stack of
suitcases on a cart, Urvashi’s luggage.

Aaron groaned and shook his head.  “He’s part of that wolf pack,
isn’t he?”

“Once, yes.  He is a free agent now.  They would call him a
rogue.  But he serves me, and they have no further claim on him.”

A complicated tale lay hidden in that simplified
explanation.  Everything with Urvashi was complicated.  Renault did play his
servant role well.  Chauffer, gopher, Renault did whatever she needed done.  A
manservant straight out of the Victorian era.

“So, what’s with the luggage?  Where are you going?”  It
bothered Aaron that she would pack up and leave without any real notice.  And
yet Renault knew what was up.  Aaron was always the last to know her plans.

“Moscow.  There is an urgent matter I must attend to.  You
will join me when you’re finished here.”

Michelle was gonna love that one.  He sat up in bed. 
“What’s in Moscow?  And why would we want to go there in the middle of
winter?”  England had all the cold he could handle.  He had heard the tales of
Moscow in the winter, of subzero temperatures, ice and snow.  “The rest of the
civilized world goes south for the winter, not north.”

“There is a problem with one of your kind, his name is Dmitri. 
I don’t know what to do about it yet.  When I see what’s happening, I will tell
you more.  But that’s not why I called you here.”

Hmm, a Russian vampire named Dmitri. 
How many of us are
there?
  Aaron rubbed his eyes, he really wanted to lie down and crash till
sunset, but this was getting interesting.  “OK, so what is it?”

She sat next to him on the bed.  Crackling with tingles of
power, her hand slid into his.  “When you took my blood, you created a
connection that can be dangerous for the both of us.”

“Doesn’t seem like such a bad deal for you.  Got a new
vampire as your beck and call guy.”

She smirked and pecked him on the cheek.  “There is more to
our bond than you know.  If something happens to you, it can affect me.  You
have probably guessed by now, we share more than just thoughts.”

Aaron had felt her
sharing
.  More like taking.  She
had definitely been getting something from him, he just didn’t know what.

“So, what do we share, and what does it mean?”  She had him
wide awake now.

“I have not had time to teach you all the nuances.  Let me
say it simply: every living thing has a certain energy.  In Asia they call it
Qi
. 
You may have heard of it in other cultures, like mana or pneuma, the yogis of
India call it prana.  I can sense and manipulate
Qi
, my own, and that of
others.  In a way, you could say I feed from it, much like you feed from blood,
which is also a form of life energy.”

He just stared at her, knowing she’d been siphoning off him,
wondering what kind of harm she could do to him in the process.

She caught his eyes and his concern.  “It doesn’t hurt you. 
You probably don’t even notice or feel anything.”  He had noticed, but it
wasn’t painful, and she seemed to give something back, that zing of static
every time she touched him.

“So, why is this important now?  You’ve been keeping it
secret for weeks.”  He stared directly into her teardrop eyes that never once
showed an ounce of remorse.

“I will be away for a time, and I cannot be here to help. 
You must admit that you have a habit of getting into …
situations
.”

He nodded.  There had been many
situations
recently.

“I don’t want you to …”  She paused, measuring her words
carefully.  “If you need me, I may be able to help, in some ways.  But you must
be careful.”

“Stop dancing around it and say what you mean.”

“Be careful.  Think before you act.  There is much that we
can do, together.  Yet, apart, we are a liability to each other.  Do you
understand?”

“Maybe, if you stopped giving me this
ancient Chinese
secret
shit, I might understand.  I think you’re saying that I could hurt
you somehow?”

“Yes, that is part of it.  We will talk of this more when
you join me.  Keep in touch.  I must know what you’re doing, preferably before
you do it.”

So that was the extent of her big revelation.  He knew he
wouldn’t get any more from her until later. 
When the student is ready, the
teacher will appear
, or some kind of guru crap.

He tapped his skull.  “I got the Urvashi direct line.”

She kissed him full on the mouth.  “Too bad there’s no time
…” He sensed her desire slipping through their bond.  She wanted one for the
road, but she also needed to leave, now.

“I’ll have to make it up to you when I get to Moscow, in the
summer.”

She laughed.  It was a rare thing to see her let loose in
genuine laughter, she was so reserved.  Sometimes it felt like dealing with the
statue of a woman.

“You’ll be following me much sooner than you think.”

He stood and walked with her out the door, and down the hall
to his own suite.  “Tell Renault I’ll miss him.”

She chuckled again, and gave him a parting smile as she
flowed towards the elevator.

* * * *

“Eh, Luis, how’s business down in that pisspot you call a country?” 
Bresnik grinned over the long-standing argument with his friend Luis Almendros,
disputing whether Colombia or Albania harbored worse living conditions.

“S’not so bad.  At least they let us have guns.  I got more
guns in my closet than a British SWAT team.”

“I’ll betcha do, mate.  But you know how it is, when they
outlaw guns, only outlaws carry guns.”

Luis chuckled.  “So, what’s up?  I know you don’t call me
long distance to talk about the fucked up weather you got over there.  It’s
like seventy degrees here.  I think I got a sunburn.”

“Shut it!  We’re drowning in fucking snow.  Next year I’ll
go south for the winter, grab some of them brown girls ya got with them giggly
asses.”

“You getting tired of all those anorexic white bitches. 
Girls be lookin’ hungry.”

“Too much rabbit food.  Listen up, mate.  I heard one of the
cartels had a problem in Vegas a couple months back.  Got three men killed, all
toasty out in the desert.”

“Funny you should mention that.  I know this cabron Abel.  He’s
got a real hard-on to find out who killed his brother, Juan Carlos.  ‘Bout two
months ago, in the desert north of Vegas, and the mothafuckers burned the
bodies.”

“Ah yeah?  Well, I can tell ya who did it.  Better yet, I
can show ya.  Got it all on video.”

“Pinche puta madre!”

“You tell Abel to bring his traquetos.  I’ll show ‘em the
video.  Shit, I can probably find the bastards too.  They’re right here in
London.  But I don’t do this for free.  What’s it worth to ya?”

“They’re all dead, all of ‘em.  I got thirty grand if you
set it up.”

“Now you got yourself a deal.”

* * * *

“He’s stupid.  Like a little boy led around by his cock.  If
not the leech, surely Urvashi will kill him.”  Katya sat on the couch in their
two-bedroom apartment, scrolling through emails on her smartphone.

“And what do you care?”  Ivan strolled out of the shower,
dressed for another night scouring the bars and clubs for a hint of Michael
Jamison.  The overpowering scent of aftershave followed in his wake.

Katya sat quiet for a moment, thinking about the question
she’d rather not face.  She didn’t exactly
care
, but, she couldn’t
understand what Aaron saw in that monstrous blonde.  “I’m just sayin’.”

Ivan snorted with a knowing smile.  “He’s not like the
others.  You can sense it.  You can smell it.  You can feel it.”

“Go ahead, sniff his crotch all you like.  I’m just sayin’
he don’t know what he’s got into.  The boy’s in over his head.”

“I think you see the skin of a young man, but you don’t see
the thing he’s become.  Be thankful he is reasonable.  He could take your head
off with his hands.  Give him some attention.  Maybe he will take Michelle’s
head off for you.”  Ivan laughed, a full-throated chuckle.

“Cha!  He’s ready to get his leg over every time he looks at
her.  Can’t get enough of his ruddy leech.”

“Won’t stop him from fucking you.  I see how he looks at
you.”

“Shut up!  I’m not letting his cock anywhere near me.  You
know what happened to Kristina!  She’s so hooked on that bastard Dmitri, she
won’t even take my calls.”

“Katya, we’re not saints.  If there is a God, I doubt we are
in his plans.  Don’t be quick to judge.  Aaron is dangerous, but he’s not so
bad, for a leech.  And we both know he’s nothing like Dmitri, not yet.  If Urvashi
gets in his head, who knows what he’ll become.”

“What are you saying?”

“Urvashi spent years with Dmitri, and look at him.”

“So it’s all her fault?  Dmitri is a murderer and worse, he
has Kristina and his bloody harem.  How is that Urvashi’s doing?”

“She is everywhere in our world, Katya.  Her Majesty
manipulates everyone.  Did you ever stop to think why we hunt Jamison?  So he
killed a woman.  We have all killed, many times.”

“You know exactly why.  They are monstrous.  They have no
respect for life.  Vampires should all be killed.”

“The same could be said of us.”

She snorted.  “Have some more vodka, get your head
straight.”

Ivan laid a hand on her shoulder.  “Think about it. 
Koren’ uchenia goriek, dah plod yego slodok
.” 
The
roots of learning are bitter, but the fruit is sweet
.

She pulled his hand off her shoulder.  “I’ll give you
something sweet –
srat’ tebe v rot
.” 
Shit in your mouth
.

He just laughed and threw her coat at her.  “Come, the night
is for hunting.”

* * * *

“Another night wasted.”  Aaron had grown tired of trolling
strip clubs and bars for the elusive Michael Jamison.  This hole-in-the-wall
was one of the seedier clubs.  Place hadn’t been cleaned in a decade.  He
thought he saw a cockroach skitter across the asbestos-tiled floor, zigging and
zagging to the beat of the shitty strip-dance music.  “Somebody needs to fire
that DJ.”

Bored, Aaron watched with sidelong glances as a bald man
walked in the door accompanied by fat American tourist who could barely stay
upright.  The bald one, the more sober by far, helped his friend into a seat
before he fell over.

“Hey!  Let’s get a drink over here!”  Baldy waved over a
waitress and whispered something in her ear.  She kissed him on the lips as if
they knew each other well.  She turned and signaled to one of the topless
dancers floating around the bar looking for a mark.

The woman smiled and made a beeline straight for the pair of
men.  The waitress immediately rounded up three more girls who all swarmed the
table.

Fascinating.

Aaron watched, perplexed, as the women focused their
attentions on the tourist, who was so trashed he could barely speak.  Matter of
fact, he looked more than drunk, he looked completely faded on something stronger.

Ivan grunted and glanced at the spectacle that held Aaron’s
attention.  “Is a common scam in London.  The bald man is not his friend.  They
probably met in another bar an hour ago.”

Aaron began to grasp what was going on as he watched one of
the girls cramming her breast in the drugged man’s face, while the other three
girls rummaged through his pockets, cleaning him out.  The bald man watched the
fleecing of his buddy and smiled with bright white teeth.

Michelle added her piece.  “This happens all over Europe. 
Especially with the tourists.”

Katya chimed in.  “He buys the guy a drink, slips him a
Micky, and whamo, here they are.  The fool won’t remember a thing.  He’s
probably getting paid to bring fools like that in here every night.”

Aaron shook his head.  “Isn’t that illegal?”

Katya scoffed.  “Sure, but it’s legal to charge for each and
every lap dance.  He’s getting four at a time.”

Michelle laid her hand over Aaron’s.  “The charges will
equal his credit limit.”

Aaron wondered how many men would be willing to max out
their credit limit for Michelle, how many times she had done it without the
slightest twinge of guilt.

Katya gave voice to the same.  “Betcha got a lot of
experience cleaning out a bloke’s bank account.”

Michelle grinned with all her teeth.

Ivan rummaged through his coat pockets and came up with a
twenty pound note and a wry grin.  “Is this enough?”

Katya punched him in the arm.  “Knock it off!”

He and Ivan both chuckled.  Michelle merely raised her
eyebrow, perhaps waiting to see how serious he was about the proposition.

“She’ll clean ya out of more than twenty.  Give ya cardiac
arrest, that one.”  Katya looked at Michelle and back to Ivan, dead serious, a
clear warning.

Aaron sighed and broke the tension by changing the subject. 
“We need to be doing something different, this is pointless.”  He scanned the
room again, finding absolutely nothing of interest besides the poor sap that
would soon have his credit card charged to the hilt.

“At least the vodka isn’t watered down.”  Ivan slugged
another shot, tapped the glass on the table, and smiled at Aaron.

Might as well be water the way Ivan knocked it back.  It
seemed the Russian could drink his own weight in vodka.

Michelle stared at Ivan, a hint of something in her eyes. 
Was that a flirt?  Invitation?  She winked at him.  “Jamison has a woman, a
bloodslave by now.  He has little use for a place like this.”  She looked
around, bored.  “We should return to the Albanians.”

Katya shook her head, a mocking grin on her face.  Aaron
sighed again.  No matter what Michelle said, the wolf had issue with it.

The she-wolf leaned towards Michelle.  “Might as well give
them your ass for free.  Go back, and you’ll find yourself trussed up in a
truck headed for Italy, sold to the highest bidder.  Besides,” she nodded
towards Aaron, “he said the Albanians didn’t know anything.”

Michelle glowered at Katya.  “I know how to make men talk.”

Aaron recalled Michelle doing unspeakable things to
unfortunate Gestapo agents she enticed into the basement of a townhouse in
Paris.  Aaron still remembered the sound of their screams. 
Michelle wasn’t
kidding
.  He caught Michelle’s flash of anger with Katya, and her intent to
lash out, a split second before she moved.

He snatched Michelle’s wrist in a strong grip.  “Please,
this isn’t solving anything.”

Glaring at both women, he tried not to hurt Michelle as she
growled in irritation.  He caressed her cheek, and he poured his love into a
delicate kiss.  Finally, she ceased fighting him.  “We need to try something
new that doesn’t involve the Albanians.”

Ivan poured himself another shot, but Katya swiped it off
the table and swallowed it whole.  He looked at her sideways and offered his
suggestion.  “We need to know more about the woman he killed.  We should look
at her autopsy.”

Ivan obviously wasn’t drunk.  Aaron began to appreciate the
Russian’s sharp intelligence.  “That’s a good idea.”

Aaron dialed into his direct line to Urvashi.  {{How’s it
going?  Your sexy golden ass catch frost-burn yet?}}

Michelle eyed him, a spark of irritation in her eyes.  She
was so damn intuitive.  She always seemed to know when he was chatting with
Urvashi in his head.

His master came back to him after a few seconds.  {{I am
busy.  What do you need?}}

Must be something seriously wrong in Moscow, he had never
felt her so edgy.  {{We need to look at the autopsy from the murdered bank
teller.  Can your contacts get it for us?}}

{{There’s nothing I can do at the moment.  You must handle
this.  The man in charge of the case is Detective Sergeant Billings.  You have
lots of help, deal with it.}}  She snapped off their link without so much as a
goodbye.

Dismissed like a fucking minion.

Michelle’s irritation had intensified during his silent
conversation with Urvashi.  It seemed he could hardly please either of the
women in his life, their needs and desires pulled him in two directions at
once.

Ivan poured another shot and swallowed it down.  Damn lush.

This wasn’t how Aaron wanted to spend his winter, playing
referee between alcoholic Russian werewolves and Michelle, or placating
Michelle’s insecure jealousies.  Miami sure would be nice right about now.

Aaron shrugged.  “Urvashi can’t help us.  How do you propose
we get our hands on that autopsy?”

Ivan looked Katya up and down, checking out her faded jeans
and bulky leather coat, and then Michelle.  As usual, Michelle wore her hunting
outfit, an itsy-bitsy black cocktail dress with a hint of ass cheek showing,
and a creamy tan leather coat with knee-high black boots.  She could have just stepped
off the fashion runway onto the cover of a magazine.

“Michelle could get it.”  Ivan winked at her.

Michelle grinned, showing a hint of fang.  “
Oui
.  I know many ways to get
what I want.”

Katya guffawed.  “It’s always about shagging, eh?  The blood
rushes to the prick and the grey matter stops functioning.”  She tapped on
Ivan’s skull.

Ivan grinned like a predator with his broad jaw full of
white teeth.  “I make up for blood loss with vodka.”

* * * *