The Vampire's Revenge (3 page)

The only way I could see this working was if Seth got her to sleep with him and later appealed to her to leave town to protect what they both thought was his baby. She might not go for herself, but maybe she’d do it for the sake of her child. I had to count on that. Even though Connie was part monster now, I had to believe that her maternal instinct was still alive. She had lost one child. I just knew she’d do anything she could to prevent losing another.

“So, what are you going to do?” Werm asked Seth with a sidelong glance at me.

“I resigned from the force,” Seth said glumly. “My old deputy is the new chief and is going to hire someone to help him. I told him I’d be here in Savannah indefinitely.”

“Listen,” I said to Seth, trying to stay calm. “Since you’ve been out of town for a couple of days, why don’t you go see Connie tonight? See how she’s doing, you know? She should be off duty by now.”

“You don’t know how she’s doing? You’ve been demon killing with her the last few days.” Seth looked at me with suspicion in his yellow-green wolf eyes.

“It’s hard for me to judge. It’s all I can do to keep her from killing me. She’s not . . . herself.”

Seth nodded solemnly. I had warned him about the change in her. Fortunately for him, her urge to kill didn’t extend to shape shifters. Some monsters had all the luck.

“Okay,” Seth said, tossing back the last of his drink. “I’ll go see how she is.” He bumped my shoulder hard when he stood up and turned to go—just another he-man way to say
go to hell.
He was still pissed about the whole thing. Mostly about how I’d tried to kill the woman we both loved. Connie had told him so.

I tried to tamp down the pain I felt just thinking about Connie sleeping with somebody else—not to mention my best friend. I was trying to rub the ache out of my temples when the scent of vampire hit me in the nose like a backhanded slap. “What the hell?” I asked Werm.

In unison, we turned our heads to stare as a short vampire, clad in a khaki trench coat, matching fedora, and sunglasses glided through the door and perched himself on the bar stool one spot over from where I sat. He laid a small notebook and pen on the bar and looked toward Werm expectantly.

“What’s your pleasure?” Werm asked.

The vampire’s nose twitched and he pointed to my empty cocktail glass. He could smell the blood residue. “One of those, if you please,” he said in a British accent. He had sharp, angular features and buck teeth. With the glasses, hat, and pointy nose, he looked like he just hopped out of one of those spy versus spy cartoons in
MAD
magazine. I know that dates me, but what the hell. I’m almost a hundred and fifty years old.

Werm raised one eyebrow slightly and set about to mix the creature a drink. The little blood drinker eyed me pleasantly. I looked around at the crowd of club-goers. If anyone had even noticed the newcomer, nobody showed it, which was miraculous because the guy looked like he might have been the love child of Nosferatu and Pee-wee Herman. His getup could have caused a stir even if his pallor and hard, shiny skin didn’t put you in mind of the kind of marble used for tombstones.

He followed my glance toward the crowd. Lowering his voice to a whisper only other vampires could hear, he said, “What a delightful establishment. Do you southern vampires often rub elbows with unsuspecting humans?”

“Yes, but no tapping into the vein,” Werm said. “House rules.”

“That goes for all of Savannah,” I added.

“Oh, of course. I, like you gentlemen, am a civilized man.” He extended a slender hand to me and said, “My name is Velki.”

Reluctantly I shook his hand. If his skin looked like marble, it felt more like leather. “I’m Jack McShane,” I answered. I thought I saw a little spark of recognition, but it was gone in a flash. Probably my imagination. I had a lot to be paranoid about just lately.

He touched the brim of his hat. “I am pleased to meet you.” He said it in an oddly formal way, like someone in a period movie.

“What’s with the shades?” I asked.

“My eyes are a little . . . sensitive. You see, I’ve recently taken a rather long rejuvenating sleep underground.”

“I thought only vampires in Anne Rice novels did that,” Werm observed.

“Anne who?” Velki asked.

“Never mind,” I said.

Werm set Velki’s drink in front of him. He took the celery stick from the glass and sniffed it experimentally as if he didn’t know what it was.

I tapped my forehead to signal Werm to open his mind and thoughts to me. Since we were the vampire equivalent of brothers, Werm and I could communicate psychically if we tried really hard. A sire and offspring could do it easily, but Werm and I had to practice. We’d gotten good enough to speak through our minds from a distance of a mile or more. For privacy’s sake we kept our minds closed most of the time. I didn’t want Werm to know my every thought and action, and I damn sure didn’t even want to
think
about his if I didn’t have to.

What is he, Jack? I mean, I know he’s a vampire but what the hell?

Double-damned if I know. Besides Reedrek, he’s the only vampire I’ve ever seen who actually
looks
like a vampire. He must have been underground a helluva long time.

Werm shuddered.
I hope the humans don’t notice him. Halloween was over a long time ago and some of them aren’t drunk enough not to go running out of here screaming if they get a good look. Do you think he’s using glamour on them?

No. I can’t feel any glamour from him. I think they just haven’t noticed him yet.

Maybe he’s one of the double-deads.

I was thinking the same thing. Either that or he’s heard that there’s a slayer in town and he’s come to check it out. I’ll see if I can get any information out of him.

How are you going to do that?

Ask him.

Oh. Uh, if you have to rough him up, would you mind taking it outside?

You’re no fun.
I wondered if Werm was ever going to vamp up.

“So, you’re new in town,” I stated. “We don’t get many of . . . our kind here in Savannah. Where did you come from?”

The newcomer finally decided the celery stick was unfit for vampire consumption, turned up his strange nose at it, and laid it aside. “Oh, here and there,” he said vaguely.

I lowered my face near his and felt my nose twitch at his odd sulfury smell. Glancing around to make sure no humans were in earshot, I whispered, “That answer won’t cut it with me, Scooter. Now, tell me where you came from before I send you directly to hell without you passing Go and collecting two hundred dollars.”

The little blood drinker gulped some of his cocktail and pink droplets of sweat popped out on his bumpy forehead. “I—I’m from the Midwest,” he stammered. “I don’t belong to any coven. I just keep to myself and keep moving. I thought it was time to wander back east, see what William is up to.”

The mention of William’s name still pained me and I winced. “You were a friend of William’s? Are you one of his European imports?”

“Yes,” he squeaked.

“How long ago?”

“I was one of the first. That was before the formal clans were established. So I just went off on my own.”

Werm looked at me.
What do you think? Is he telling the truth?

Could be. If he was one of the first to come over by boat, that would be before my time. And I don’t think we can expect your garden-variety double-dead to know about the smuggling operation. It was always a pretty well-kept secret.

Didn’t William have records?

I never thought about it before. I’ll ask Deylaud. He’d know.

Records like that would come in handy in case any of the other double-deads have a similar cover story.

Good point.

I turned back to Velki when he tapped me on the arm. “You said
‘were’
a friend of William’s,” he pointed out.

It took me a second to catch his meaning. “William’s dead,” I said.

Velki’s face fell. “Oh, no. When? How?”

“A few days ago,” I said. “
How
is classified.”

“I am so sorry,” he said. “You were a friend of his also?”

“He was my sire.”

“And mine,” Werm muttered.

“What an incalculable loss. You both have my most profound sympathies.” Velki raised his glass. “To William.”

Werm looked at me.
He seems sincere.

Yeah. But if I decide to let him live and he starts hanging out here as a regular, you keep your eye on him.

Will do.

“Thanks,” I said to the little blood drinker and clinked my bottle against his glass. “So, are you just passing through or are you planning to stay awhile?”

“I’m planning to stay for a bit,” he said between sips of his cocktail. “I’m working on a book about killers.”

“Killers? What kind of killers?” I asked.

“Human ones, of course.” He set down his drink, took up his pen, and opened the first page of his notebook. “What famous serial killers were from Savannah?”

“I can’t think of any,” I said. Werm shrugged and shook his head.

“Mass murderers?” Velki asked.

“None that I know of.”

“Terrorists?”

“Not as such, no.”

The little man looked flustered. “But I was told Savannah had a most violent past,” he insisted.

“It does,” Werm put in. “There were all kinds of battles from the Revolution onward.”

“Savannah was home to pirates, brigands, and cutthroats of all kinds,” I added. “People got robbed, murdered, shanghaied, and dragged off by privateers, you name it.”

“Names! I need names!”

Werm and I exchanged a look. “Not that many individuals stand out in terms of body count,” Werm said. “Sorry we can’t help you. Why don’t you try the historical society?”

Velki pulled himself together and closed his book. “Very well. I shall enquire elsewhere. Thank you so much for your hospitality.” He laid a bill on the bar and stood up.

“You keep in touch, you hear? Werm and I like to keep track of the other vamps passing through town.”

“Naturally you are protective of your territory. I applaud your vigilance. Shall I drop into this club from time to time while I’m here?”

“You shall,” I said pleasantly.

The little creature nodded and left, not drawing any notice from the humans on the dance floor. Of course, Werm’s patrons were a motley crew in their own right, so I guess one weirdo more or less didn’t seem strange to them.

“Man, he was creepy,” Werm observed.

When a metal-studded, spiky-haired vampire wearing black leather from head to toe calls you creepy, you know you’re pretty much in a class by yourself.

As for me, after spending the last few days staking scaly, slimy demons, my creepy quotient had maxed out. I had a sudden urge to go after the new vampire and kill him just on general principles. What can I say? I’m a bite-first-and-ask-questions-later kind of vampire. I had Connie to protect and some evil fiends to ferret out, and for all I knew this Velki character might be one of my new enemies. My life would be a lot simpler if I just offed him.

I’d taken a step toward the door when Werm appeared in front of me, blocking my way.

“What?” I demanded.

Werm swallowed hard. As close as we’d become, he’d never lost his fear of me. That was a good thing for him.

“Jack, please don’t get mad at me for saying this, but before you go after that guy, I think you should ask yourself something.”

“Oh, yeah? This better be good, little man. What should I ask myself?”

He shifted his weight nervously from foot to foot as if he had to be ready to run. “You should ask yourself—what would William do?”

He couldn’t have rocked me any harder if he’d punched me in the gut. Actually, Werm couldn’t have rocked me at all if he’d punched me in the gut, but the point is—he was right. My role had always been to be the enforcer—the brawn to William’s brain. Now I had to be the brain
and
the brawn. I had to learn to think before I acted.

Werm looked up at me expectantly. “Was it good?”

“Huh?”

“You said if I stopped you it had better be good.”

I squeezed his shoulder gently. I would have ruffled his hair like a little brother if I could have, but there was too much gel in it.

“Yeah,” I said. “It was good.”

Two

I stood in the shadows outside Connie’s town house feeling as dead inside as the vampire I was. A cool breeze whispered through the dry leaves and swayed the Spanish moss in the oak branches overhead. The chill stoked the mist that rose from the earth, swirling around the benches and street lamps and into the dark street corners.

I had to cloak my presence using glamour. Connie was getting as good at smelling out vampires as I was. It was just another skill that would help her kill me when my time came.

Seth’s truck was parked by the streetlight, which meant he was still there with her. I wished someone would kill me now as I saw the light behind the bedroom curtains go out. I waited for ten of the longest minutes of my life, but he didn’t come out. Trying not to think about what was going on beyond that curtain, I bit my tongue until the blood ran.

How had I gotten myself in this mess? Hadn’t bitter experience taught me that long-term relationships with human women always led to heartache? The fact that the woman I finally tried to keep for my own turned out to be a vampire slayer was just a big old cosmic joke on yours truly.

With a final glance at the window, I slid back behind the wheel of my convertible and roared away. A few minutes later I was at my garage on Victory Drive.

The bays were full so I parked out back where I found my detail man and resident zombie Huey digging an ever-deepening hole in the ground. He’d been digging the hole for weeks, and he’d almost reached his goal when the earthquake had caused it to collapse, ruining all his work. He’d started over again and was going at it harder than ever. His pet crow, Ginger, was supervising this process. At the moment she was hopping along the ground complaining bitterly about mites.

“Dammit!” she squawked. “Can’t somebody around here get me a flea collar or something?”

“I can get you some Sevin dust,” Huey offered.