Angel: Private Eye Book One (12 page)

At least Sarah wasn’t simpering around him
anymore. She was sitting across from him at the table, her legs
crossed, a suspicious look plastered over her face.

“Sorry, honey,” she frowned at me, “He
wouldn’t leave. He pulled out some kind of contract. Says he has a
legal obligation to see you. What exactly happened last night? And
what happened at the police station? Were you attacked?” Sarah
began to babble.

For just a second, her questions felt like
they would derail me.

Benson cleared his throat. “Yes, your flat
mate was attacked last night by a vampire. It’s a somewhat
complicated situation. I’m here today to discuss the terms of this
contract with your flat mate. Do you have any chocolate biscuits?”
Benson suddenly turned fully to Sarah.

She pouted at him. “What?”

“Do you have any chocolate biscuits?”

“Um, no.”

“I suggest you go to the store and buy as
many packets as you can carry.”

“Ah, excuse me,” Sarah managed.

Benson reached into the pocket of his suit
jacket, plucked out a folded up piece of yellow legal pad paper,
and scribbled a brand name on it. “You must buy this brand
only.”

Sarah plucked up the paper and stared at him
in exasperation. If he’d been anyone other than William Benson, she
would have told him to go hang.

“My flat mate is not gonna buy you all the
chocolate biscuits she can carry. If you’re peckish, I suggest you
go to the store yourself.” I said pointedly.

William settled back in his chair, tipped
his head to the side, and looked at me evenly. “They’re not for me.
They’re for you.”

“I don’t want chocolate biscuits.”

“No, but unfortunately you need them. This
brand,” he pointed at the paper he’d given to Sarah, “Follows a
certain unique recipe with specific healing properties.”

“I’m sorry, what?” I shook my head in
confusion.

“You lost a lot of blood last night in a
vampire attack, Miss Luck. Aren’t you feeling lightheaded,
emotionally strung out? Are you finding it hard to sleep? To
relax?”

I ground my teeth together, hoping that was
answer enough.

If Sarah weren’t in the room, I’d point out
that, yeah, I was experiencing all three of those symptoms, because
I’d almost been killed last night.

“Wait, are you telling me that this brand
will be able to help Lizzie?” Sarah leaned in and tapped the paper
with her manicured nails.

William nodded. “She needs to keep her
glucose up.”

I snorted. “Then I’ll just dip into the
sugar bowl.”

“Please, Miss Luck, trust that I know
slightly more about this arena than you do.”

I bristled at his tone.

Sarah, dear Sarah, jumped to her feet. She
almost lurched towards her bag on the counter. Then promptly
stopped. “I’m not going to leave you alone if you don’t want me to
go,” she said pointedly in a clear tone Benson would be able to
hear easily.

I pressed my lips together and thought of
asking her to stay but quickly realized it was better this way.

I shook my head. “Go to the store. But don’t
buy as many biscuits as you can carry. I really doubt chocolate
biscuits are going to cure my symptoms,” I said dismissively.

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know. Manny’s
boyfriend is a vampire, and he buys this brand all the time. The
groupies swear by it, too.”

I made a face.

Sarah leaned over, tapped my arm, and shot
me a commiserating look. Then she turned over her shoulder and shot
Benson a defiant stare. “If you do anything to my flat mate, I’m
going to take it straight to the media.”

Benson set down his cup. “I’m a councilman,
my dear, an upstanding member of society. I have no intention of
harming your flat mate. I do suggest, however, that you buy those
biscuits as quickly as you can. They can be quite hard to find
these days.”

Sarah shot me one last questioning look.
“You sure you don’t want me to stay?” she mouthed.

I shook my head.

She left, and then I was alone with William
Benson. In my apartment.

He made a show of looking around. “You have
taste.”

“I thought there wouldn’t be enough black
leather and lace for a vampire,” I said defiantly.

He let out a slow light chuckle. “You don’t
know much about vampires, do you?”

I stiffened. “If this is about last night,”
I swallowed. “I had absolutely no idea—”

He brought up a hand. “We’ve already
established the fact you didn’t know what your blood would do.”

It wasn’t just my imagination – his voice
became strained on the word blood. Not so strained that he was
seconds from jumping up and sucking me dry, but enough to
notice.

“Why exactly are you in my apartment?” I got
straight down to business. “And why are you using my grandmother’s
teacup?”

He’d just drawn it up and placed it against
his lips. He settled it there for several seconds, glancing down at
the bone china.

I dearly wanted to thrust forward and snatch
it off him, but that would bring me entirely too close to the
vampire king.

“It's antique,” he pointed out as if I was
too stupid not to have realized that.

“Yes, I’m fully aware of that. Just as I’m
aware of the fact it is one of the most expensive things I own. So
put it down and don’t break it.”

He arched an eyebrow, delicately placing the
cup down and turning the handle towards me with the soft touch of a
man who’d been handling fine china his whole life. “Don’t worry,
Miss Luck, I know just how to handle fragile objects.”

My stomach lurched. I crossed my arms as
tightly as I could, crumpling the fabric of my shirt. “Why are you
here?” I asked once more.

He leaned back, reached a hand into his
pocket, and pulled out a vial.

I doubled back. I wasn’t an idiot. Though
the glass ampoule could technically have been used for drugs, this
was a vampire here.

“What is that?” I hissed.

He placed the glass down right next to the
china teacup and tapped them both with the tips of his fingers.
“This is the next stage of your contract. You agreed that you would
allow me to find out why your blood managed to kill a vampire.
Surely you can appreciate I need a sample of your blood to
accomplish this task.”

My hand went up and clutched my wound from
last night.

It took several seconds before Benson
allowed his gaze to drift towards my collar. And, you guessed it, I
shivered as I felt his ethereal hands tracing along my jaw.

“Could you please not do that,” I said
through clenched teeth.

“Not do what?”

“You know what I mean. You’re looking at me
like that.”

“Looking at you like what?”

This was descending into a conversation
between two stubborn three-year-olds.

I bared my teeth. “I can feel your ethereal
hands around my throat. Now get them the hell off me.”

Benson frowned. Maybe he was putting it on,
maybe he wasn’t. My first impression was that my comment had
floored him.

I still kept my teeth bared, but half a
second later I felt his ghostly fingertips drop from around my
cheeks, their gentle touch giving way to the ever so slight breeze
shifting in through the open window in the lounge room.

I sighed in relief.

Benson looked as if he were concentrating
for several seconds, then he returned his attention to me. “You’re
more sensitive to magic than you led me to believe, Miss Luck.”

My stomach kicked. “What does that
mean?”

“It takes a certain kind of practitioner to
be able to feel a vampire’s glance.”

“I’m not a complete idiot. I’ve read about
them in the newspaper and the magazines. I know full well that a
vampire can use their eyes like a set of hands,” I said with an
uncomfortable shiver that ran so hard into my stomach I almost
wanted to gasp.

Benson smiled. “That’s true, but believe it
or not, we don’t look at just anyone like that. And I assure you,
Miss Luck, I was not using such a skill on you.”

“Then why exactly could I feel your hands
around my neck?” I said through clenched teeth.

“You must be a lot more sensitive to this
magical world than you assume.”

I didn’t like that answer, and took a
pointed step back as if I were trying to bodily remove myself from
the point. “Look, it doesn’t matter.” My gaze locked back on that
vial. “What exactly do you want me to do with that? If you expect
I’m going to let you bleed me dry—”

He brought a hand up. “Of course I have no
intention of bleeding you dry. Believe it or not, I have every
intention of holding up my end of the contract. I will find out
what unique properties your blood has, just as long as you have
every intention of holding up your end of the contract,” his tone
dipped.

“I haven’t run into any vampires since last
night. I haven’t given anyone my blood. Happy?”

Benson placed two fingers on the vial and
pushed it towards me. “Go to a pathology and fill this up.”

I huffed. “And then what, doctor? Post it
back to you?”

“No. You will hand it back to me. The
contract you have, Miss Luck, is between you and me, so you will be
dealing with me personally.” He rose from the table. The china
teacup rattled against its plate until he reached out a quick hand
and stilled it.

He kept his gaze on me, but thankfully I
could no longer feel his fingers tracing down the line of my
jaw.

He cleared his throat, neatened his jacket,
and walked towards the window behind the couch. He placed his hands
behind his back, angled his head, and stared at the city below.
Though this apartment was cute, the view was hardly fantastic.
Sure, you could see a slice of the city if you tipped your head on
the right angle and stared past the bushy leaves of an oak.

Benson continued to watch the view like a
hawk, until he turned and nodded once. “Whatever happens, Miss
Luck, be assured that the deal is still on the table.”

“What deal?”

“You can come and work for me any time you
wish. All you have to do is walk into one of my buildings and ask
to see me. I assure you, no matter what I’m doing, I’ll drop it and
gladly accept your signature.” There was an unmistakable curl to
his lips as he smiled on the word signature.

It made my lips stiffen all the harder.
“There is no goddamn way I am ever going to work for you.”

He shrugged. “You will, however, fill that
vial and give it to me. And you will – no matter what happens – not
give your blood to any vampires. Do you understand?” He smiled
around his teeth, and it was the first time I’d seen his fangs.
Either he had the ability to hide them or he’d learned to speak in
such a way that his lips obscured their permanently glistening
sharp tips.

He saw me staring at them and he chuckled.
“Good luck with the murder,” he said.

I jolted. “What?!”

“The case from last night. Please let me
know if you require an appointment.”

“I’m not following you,” I hissed.

“Detective Cortez has already informed me
that it is likely your murder suspect Miss Smith was killed by a
vampire.”

My eyes widened in terror. “You know who
killed her?” I couldn’t control the outrage that burst through my
voice.

He shook his head. “I’m the representative
for the vampire clans in this city, but I do not control them. You
overestimate my abilities and reach, Miss Luck.” On the word reach,
I swore I felt his fingers on my neck once more.

I pointedly brought a hand up and tapped my
throat, hiding it. “Aren’t you meant to control the vampires,
though? Aren’t you meant to be responsible for what they do?”

He chuckled. “Is the president of the
country responsible for every petty crime committed by its
citizens?”

“This isn’t a petty crime,” I spat. “A woman
was killed last night,” my voice shook, and there wasn’t a goddamn
thing I could do to steady it. Nor should it be steadied. Murder
seemed to be too easily palatable to the creatures of the
otherworld. The sanctity of life lost its meaning around these
people.

“I am not suggesting this crime was anything
other than abhorrent. All I’m saying is that should you find
yourself needing information about the vampires, come to me.”

“I don’t understand. Can’t you just use your
contacts to find out who murdered her?”

He smiled. It was an unmistakable smile. It
was the kind of smile you gave to an idiot. “You don’t understand
much about this world, do you, Miss Luck?”

“Would you stop calling me that?”

“What?”

“Miss Luck.”

“It’s your name.”

“My name’s Lizzie.”

“Call me an old, formal soul, but for now I
prefer Miss Luck. And you have much to learn. My only counsel to
you would be to be careful now. The otherworld is dangerous, dark,
and deadly. It doesn’t abide innocence well.”

On the word innocence, a tight shiver ran
down my spine. I hid it as I stared up at him defiantly.

“Anyway, Miss Luck, have a good day.”

With that, he waved cordially and let
himself out of the apartment. Before he closed the door, he
reminded me to enjoy my biscuits.

As the door shut, I swore at him. I pressed
my hands into fists, bit my lips, and shrieked at the room, even
going so far as to grabbing one of the cushions from the couch and
chucking it at the wall.

You guessed it. I was not the kind of girl
who threw tantrums.

But I had to face one thing: the kind of
girl I was, was changing.

It didn’t take long to devour three packets
of the biscuits Sarah brought back from the store. Though I really
didn’t want to admit it, they were working; they were taking the
edge off my fatigue and making me feel less like I’d just been on
the wrong end of a blood vacuum cleaner.

I tugged the collar of my shirt down a few
times to notice the puncture marks on my neck were even
healing.