CHAPTER FOUR
It takes the better part of an hour to calm myself from the wrath stirring inside me after having watched that cheese steak in a human suit beat the kind librarian to the ground.
I’ve called the ER and already know they’re not going to tell me anything over the phone, so I’ll have to go in person as soon as I’ve dealt with this other terrible matter: Clive.
“Hell.” I sip my second coffee of the morning, realizing they didn’t add the extra shots like I requested. How much worse can this day become?
I step from my SUV and head toward the nondescript brick building with only a number over the mirrored front door. I check my phone and the address. This has to be the place.
I enter to find a quiet waiting room with a shiny white tile floor and one of those flat glass fountains trickling down one of the walls. There’s a solid-looking door leading inside and an intercom next to it.
So much white. Easier to clean blood. The faint scent of bleach in the air tells me they’ve done so recently.
I push the intercom button but know they spotted me the moment I stepped foot in the empty parking lot that’s meant to give the illusion of nobody’s home.
They’re home. I can smell them.
I busy myself with my phone while I wait for someone to answer. After a minute, I hear the voice of the woman who answered the phone earlier. “Yes?”
“Mr. Vanderhorst to see Mr. Aspen,” I say.
“We weren’t expecting you this morning, sir.”
Yeah, well, I need to get out of town as quickly as possible. I shouldn’t have bitten that man. There were five different ways to kill him, but I just had to choose the only one that leaves a vampire calling card.
I simply hadn’t been able to help myself. Even now, the image of that barbarian—his large fist cracking Miriam right in her temple and the sound of her small body hitting the sidewalk—it makes me want to kill him all over again.
Only this time, much slower. Still, I know better than to have acted so hastily. I am ancient.
“Please tell Mr. Aspen that I apologize for coming unannounced and that I had an issue with my cell—thus the reason we were cut off,” I lie. “But something urgent has come up back in Cincinnati, and I must leave immediately.”
I’m full of lies today, but one does what they must. Especially now that my choices affect others. I must find a good place for that body. Or places. I will have to engage in little dissection-101 to make sure he’s never entirely found.
“Let me see what I can do,” she says, and I take a seat in one of the three shiny white plastic molded chairs with chrome legs. Everything is spotless. Must’ve been some mess to clean up.
I go back to looking at my phone, pulling up a satellite map of the area. Immediately, I notice there is plenty of open desert to the north and west. Great place for hiding bodies. And lucky me, I have a rather large SUV.
The door buzzes and pops open.
“Mr. Vanderhorst?” says a young brunette with green eyes and a short bob, wearing a red sweater and white slacks. “Mr. Aspen can see you now.”
“Thank you.” I stand and follow her inside. The heavy door thuds behind me, and immediately I’m impressed by how cheerful everything looks. Pale yellow walls, fake potted plants, and plenty of artificial light. No sunlight. There is a wall of filing cabinets and several desks with computers in the center of the room.
“Right this way.” I follow her up a set of stairs toward the back. It seems the entire top floor is Mr. Aspen’s office. He’s sitting behind a white and chrome desk. His thick blond hair is cropped short, and his suit is as cheap looking as his furniture.
“Mr. Vanderhorst.” He extends his hand over his desk, exposing a BVLGARI worth at least half a million dollars.
Yet his office furniture is from Ikea?
“Mr. Aspen.” We shake hands. “Thank you for rearranging your schedule.”
“Certainly. I understand this is a stressful time for you.” He gestures for me to take a seat, and I do. “I lost my maker ten years ago—a tragic roller-skating accident.”
Roller skating? I can’t claim I’ve heard that one before. Vampires do not roller skate, just like they don’t break-dance or yodel. I mean, that’s just silly. “My condolences.”
He bobs his head mournfully. “Yes, well, I suppose we all have to go sometime.”
Given why I’m here, that is a very insensitive thing to say. Clive’s death wasn’t sometime. He still had a lot to give to the world, which is why when I got the call yesterday that the society here had reported his murder, I simply couldn’t believe it.
I still don’t.
“So tell me,” I lean back, trying to remain calm, “who is the culprit, and what have you done about it?”
Mr. Aspen nods his head, avoiding eye contact. “At this moment, there are no leads. But I assure you, our best people are looking into the matter.”
My pulse rate explodes, and I squeeze my hands into tight fists. “What do you mean, no leads?”
“I’m very sorry.” He laces his fingers together and rests his hands on his desk—a gesture to communicate nonaggression. “We have no idea who killed him. We’re not even sure it was a vampire.”
My blood goes from boiling to pressure-cooker steaming. “What about the case he was on? You issued his visa, so you know who he met with. Have you interviewed them yet? How about witnesses where his remains were found?”
“You know that I am not permitted to discuss any details—it’s standard protocol for every society.”
“Yes, I’m very aware.” Vampires are known hotheads, and the rules are meant to prevent anyone from retaliating and starting a society war before the facts have been gathered. Even then, punishments are handed out and only made public after everything has been dealt with.
“Do you know what else is protocol?” I ask. “Actually finding out who killed him, and it seems that you’re not the least bit interested, for which there will be consequences.”
He chuckles like the smug, deceitful schlep I suspect him of being. “Clive Bakker was the head of one of the oldest and most respected societies on this continent. I assure you, we are doing everything in our power to resolve the matter.”
While I can tell that Mr. Aspen isn’t a fresh new vampire, he is weak and sneaky and has spent more of his existence being underhanded than he has living aboveboard. I know merely by looking at him. And it’s why he’s a terrible liar—he has had little practice telling the truth, so he hardly knows what it feels like. As for me, I’ve met a thousand Mr. Aspens, but he’s never met one of me.
I stand. “Then I’ll be taking Clive’s ashes and—”
“Yes, of course. Viviana will assist you, and I will call once the report is made public.”
He’s practically pushing me toward the stairs, and in an instant, the situation goes from outrageous to outrageously suspicious.
“I’ll come by tomorrow for an update,” I say, deciding I cannot leave town. Not until this matter is put to rest.
Aspen frowns with his golden brows that are almost too bushy to be called brows.
More like eyelid mustaches.
“Oh, I understood you were returning to Cincinnati immediately,” he says.
Christ. I forgot about my little issue with Miriam’s freshly expired boyfriend. I really should get out of town—it would certainly be the wisest choice. However, if I go, Mr. Aspen here will feel no pressure and Clive’s killer won’t be brought to justice.
On the other hand, today seems like a good day for bad choices, so what’s one more?
“I happened to get a text right before I walked in,” I say. “Seems that little fire back home has been put out.”
Aspen’s blue eyes twitch. “Didn’t you say your phone wasn’t working?”
I stare unblinkingly. “Must’ve been a glitch. All fixed now. And I will be staying.”
“I don’t recall you requesting a visa, Mr. Vanderhorst.”
“Why do I get the feeling you’re asking me to leave?” I say with a snarl on my lips.
“We don’t want you getting in the way of the investigation,” he snarls back.
“According to you, there are no leads, which means there is no investigation. Nevertheless, I do not plan on breaking protocol or stepping on any toes. I do, however, plan to show up here every day, inquiring on your progress.”
I know he’s about to pull away the welcome mat—it’s his right as head of this society to deny territory privileges to anyone. But I’m well aware of the rules that are meant to keep transient vampires on the move. No one wants trouble, and vampires with a business or employment are less likely to crap where they eat. Which is why I add, “In fact, I plan to stay indefinitely.”
His eyes bore into me. “You? Relocate here?”
“I just can’t seem to get enough of all this marvelous sunshine. I’ve even secured a job.” Now he can’t send me home. All five hundred and eighty-two societies worldwide have signed a pact to obey a common set of laws, and one of them is that a vampire in good standing will not be denied access to another’s territory when matters of business or employment are involved. With so many of our kind being business savvy, the territorialism of the old days was getting in the way. One could hardly prosper if they were limited to doing business and/or working in their own territory. For example, Marvin, a vampire in my territory, sells mining equipment. He has stores all across the US and a factory in Mexico. Personal travel is another matter altogether, but when it comes to making money, vampires have finally come out of the dark ages, and we all thrive because of it.
“Well.” Mr. Aspen swallows hard, likely his irritation with me scratching at his throat. “I am surprised to hear the news, especially given you’ve taken over Clive’s role as leader. Must be some new job you’ve found here.”
“It is something I have always dreamed of doing,” I lie.
He nods and thankfully doesn’t ask what my new title is. Or will be once I see Miriam. I hope she’s all right.
“Viviana can give you the required paperwork on your way out.” He’s back to rushing me out of his office and toward the stairs.
I’m sure this news will cause quite a stir. Leaders don’t up and leave their territories. Vampires as old as me don’t either. It’s unheard of. For the most part we are creatures of habit. Me, I’ve always been my own man—a vow I made to myself centuries ago. If I have to be this, I will do it on my own terms.
I make my way down the steps, feeling the air sizzle with anger. It only fuels my conviction that I’ve made the right decision. Because while staying poses a risk given this morning’s drama, I would rather take it than allow this society to sweep Clive under a rug. He meant far too much to me.
I turn and shake Mr. Aspen’s hand. “I look forward to being part of your family.”
His eyes turn cold. “We couldn’t be happier.”
I see Viviana on the way out, and she hands me a small can.
“Sorry. It’s the only label we had.” She shrugs.
I snarl down at what used to be Clive now packed in a sealed chicken soup can. It’s so bloody undignified. They could’ve at least put him in a nice can of artichoke hearts or black olives. But this is the way he must travel back home—in an inconspicuous, completely sealed can inside my luggage—per our rules.
I am furious but manage to keep calm. There is a time and place for everything. At the moment, I must find out who did this to Clive. And then I will take the Society of Arizona Sunshine Love out to the woodshed for a good, old-fashioned vampire thrashing. They won’t ever see me coming, and I will leave no traces.