Beauty Bites (36 page)

A little over seven hours later, we arrived at Nosferatu’s lakeside mansion.

Lakeside mansion. Talk about conjuring images. I’d pictured a vast estate with green lawns, long curved driveway and huge wrought iron gates, the lake with pier and boat a picturesque backdrop.

Actually it was a five-story brownstone a few blocks west of Lake Michigan dwarfed by surrounding high rises. On the plus side it had beautiful narrow windows, arched entrances, lots of carved detail and a wrought iron fence.

But hemmed in by city streets, parking was a bitch.

I finally found a space between an Audi and a Beemer and we walked through the quaint spindled gate, Aiden hustling Camille. A set of concrete steps led up to the front door. I’d put my foot on the first when Ric caught my elbow and guided me onto the set next to it leading down.

“Is this like mansion flats in London?” I asked. “We’re the help so we enter below stairs?”

Ric’s smile held equal parts tension and love. “No, we’re the vampires and there’s as much mansion underground as above. Are you sure about this?”

I hadn’t explained my proposal for Nosy to Ric, wanting to strike hard and fast without Camille having time to cook up a counter. I’d have left her behind, but we needed her as a hostage to make it inside.

Yet Ric was ready to back me up, only asking if I was sure. I glowed at his trust in me. “I’m sure. Mostly. You sure about going in through the front door?”

“Vampires respect a show of strength.” Ric rapped sharply at the lower door. “Even when it’s suicidal.”

“Especially then.” Aiden grinned, all fang.

A woman in apron and cap answered. “Yes?”

Wordlessly Ric brushed by her and hit the stairs going down. Ready or not, we were doing this. I trotted after him. Aiden followed with Camille.

“Stop,” the woman called. “You can’t go in there. Guards!”

The short entryway stairs gave onto a large, empty room with bare walls and smooth hardwood floor. “Booby trapped?” Ric asked.

“No,” Aiden said from behind. “Those come later.”

The thud of running feet shivered the floor and suddenly several rough-looking vampires filled the opposite doorway. The biggest of them muscled through. His jaw jutted as he glared, red-eyed, at Ric. “Who are you?”

“
Listen to me
.” Ric’s voice rang with vampire compulsion. “
Let us pass
.”

“We…” The leader’s eyes cooled to a dull blue. “We’re letting them pass.”

The vampires parted. The doorway was clear.

“Wow.” I stared at blank-eyed vampires as Ric pulled me past them. “I didn’t know you could do that to other vampires.”

“They’re n…newbs.” Camille stuttered a bit as Aiden stumbled her along. “I keep telling Nosferatu to use seasoned warriors, but does he listen? No-ooo.”

“Watch it,” Aiden said. “We’re coming to the tunnels. The traps are there.”

The rich scent of damp earth underscored his words. It reminded me uncomfortably of a freshly dug grave, all too possible with vampires. Were we headed into a cemetery?

Ahead, flooring gave way to an unlit tunnel of packed dirt. A second wave of guards confronted us at the mouth, five big vampires with bladed faces, long fangs and eyes that glittered ruby in the dim light. The pair in front were a tank with fangs and a male so muscular he looked like a golem made of car tires. They were so big I could barely see the three behind.

Tire Guy held up his hand. “I don’t know how you got this far, but this is the end of the line. The tunnel’s electrified.”

Aiden shoved Camille forward and held up his stunner. “So’s this.” He slapped the business end to her temple. He’d run out of cartridges long ago.

Tire Guy gaped. “Hey. Those are illegal in Chicago.”

“You think I care?”

The tank said, “It’s Camille. We gotta stand down.” The three in back exchanged confused glances.

“No.” Tire Guy gathered himself. “She doesn’t change things.”

Aiden smiled, with a menace that made all the hair on my body stand straight up. He purred, “I was so hoping you’d say that.”

“Caligula, you shit,” Camille said. “I’m not going to forget thi—”

Aiden pulled the trigger. Camille convulsed and fell to the floor, twitching.

Ric leaped past Aiden, swinging open a bone-handled folding knife with a hard flick. The slim blade glinted wickedly in the low light. A muscular stroke cut tire-thick throat. A second and third slice decapitated the vampire.

Aiden reached into his bulky jacket and pulled out a long, curved butcher’s knife. He sprang into the gap next to Ric and hacked at the tank.

I turned away, not because there was blood, although there was, but because I was watching our backs. Really. I only heaved a little.

The shouts died. I chanced a peek back. Ric was wiping his blade on one of the bodies. Its head lay a few inches away, staring at me.

I swallowed hard. “Is he…?”

“No.” Ric straightened, folding away his knife. He nudged the head with his toe. “It’ll rejoin his body, but not before we reach Nosferatu. Did you get the juice turned off?” The last was to Aiden.

“Of course.” His knife disappeared into his jacket.

“Then grab her and let’s go.” Ric nodded toward the vampire woman.

Camille was already rousing. Aiden jerked her to her feet and we entered a warren of tunnels. I would have gotten lost, but Ric and Aiden led as if they could see a dashed trail pointing directly to Nosferatu. And maybe they could; I remembered Nosferatu had trained them both as trackers.

I was counting on Nosferatu remembering that too.

The deeper we penetrated into Nosferatu’s lair, the more stagnant the air became. The less light. My breath came shallower, faster. My heart started to hammer. Aiden’s and Camille’s eyes glowed red, bumping the creepy factor into hard swallows and shaky legs.

Then Ric took my hand. His eyes were red too, but they crinkled in one of his many variations on a warm smile. My tension eased and my heart slowed.

The last light disappeared. Ric guided my steps. I clasped his forearm, briefly closing my useless eyes.

We stopped. My eyes flew open. I blinked into the pit of black.

Darkness resolved into a fourth set of red eyes.

Chapter Twenty-four

I jumped. Hot adrenaline spurted into my veins, turbo-boosting my heart.

“Well, well.” The voice was a dry rasp in the dark, as if dead moths were coming out of the mouth with the words. “The prodigal sons.”

“Nosferatu.” Ric’s red eyes dipped in a nod.

I couldn’t see a thing besides bloody eyes and the only air that moved was my panted little breaths; I was muffled in stifling darkness. My heart thudded and my ears began to ring. Or maybe that was the sound of my own nerves shrieking.

A rasping chuckle. “At last, you’ve realized the enormity of your sins and turned yourselves in. How nice. I’ll make your deaths quick.”

Ric’s hand dropped from my arm. To have two hands to defend us, but now I felt even more alone, more isolated and helpless. My heart hammered in my chest, as if trying to escape. My feet turned with the same idea.

“And a sacrificial human for me to sup on.” He made a slurping sound, like Anthony Hopkins’s Hannibal. I nearly cried out,
I’m not an entrée to be served with fava beans
. I did whimper. Nosferatu cackled. “You’ve earned a boon for bringing her. I’ll kill you a little less painfully.”

“We’re not here to turn ourselves in,” Ric said.

“I’ll have to capture you? How tedious.”

“You try,” Aiden said, “and Camille dies.” The dangerous click of his blade underscored the last word.

A rustle of rich cloth, as if Nosferatu was shrugging. “Then she dies.”

“Hey,” Camille said. “I’m your lieutenant. You need me.”

“Second lieutenant, my dear.” He laughed in a way that left no doubt—he didn’t need any of them. “Plenty more where you come from.”

“Giuseppe won’t like that.” Her eyes were frightened stoplights.

“Giuseppe is not your Master, bitch.” His words struck like sledgehammers. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Her eyes flinched. “I’m your lieutenant, deserving of respect—”

“Respect is earned. You’ve allowed yourself to be captured and brought traitors into my home.”

“They forced me,” she squeaked. “But…but they made a mistake, bringing me here. Let me at them, Master, I’ll show them what it means to cross you.”

“Bring it,” Aiden said.

“A duel?” Nosferatu’s red eyes narrowed. “I like that. Kill them, then.”

I’d been waiting for an opening to make my pitch. But the way things were flushing, no pauses were on the menu…
Menu
. Me, with Chianti.
Brrrr
.

I shook it off. I’d have to make my own opening, quick, despite being fava beans in the dark.

“Wait!” I took a bold step forward, secretly praying I wouldn’t crash into a chair or table and fall on my face. For a change, my little bit of sizzle worked. Heartened, I planted fists on hips. “This ends, and it ends now.”

“Silence, food.”

“Nice try, Hemoglobin Breath. But you don’t scare me.”

“I ought to. I ought to scare you to
death,
” snarled his voice
right in my ear
.

Yipes. I crossed my arms, playing casual but really to keep my heart from leaping out of my chest. My bowels were quietly shedding their lining. “Nice trick. I bet you’re great fun at parties.” Happily, my voice didn’t squeak.

“Bah. I’ve had enough.” His footsteps stomped away. “You are all dead.”

“Then kiss goodbye to what you want most in the world.”

Dead silence.

I mean absolute silence.

Nosferatu’s eyes reappeared, tilted, as if he’d turned back to consider me. “Very well. You have exactly thirty seconds to interest me. Talk.”

Wow. Sizzle really was important. It had gotten my foot in the door.

But now I had to deliver. I had to convince this refugee from a grade B Dracula movie that my idea was worth his while. Which actually might take even more razzle-dazzle than getting my foot in the door.

My heart bumped unevenly,
ba-lump dum dum
. Could I do it? I’d long denied, even hated, that part of me that was sizzle. Maybe it had atrophied or even died.

Maybe I shouldn’t attempt this. Or fall back on logic. That was a skill I knew I still had…no, I’d cratered at the presentation with Camille and Chicken Little.

Argh
. If not sizzle and not skill, then what?

Then I remembered Elena. Hopeless. Dying. Yet she’d hung on for her baby’s sake, long enough for Nikos and the Ancient One to save her.

Sometimes skill doesn’t do it. Sometimes logic fails. Then all you have is friends, and hope.

And being damned obstinate.

Ric’s hand found mine and squeezed. The pulse conveyed his love and confidence in me.

The best sizzle of all. Love.

I talked.

“Here’s the thing, Nosy. If you kill me, if you destroy Ric and Aiden, you’ll be throwing away your only chance
to find Eloise
.” I put a deliberate emphasis on her name, not to manipulate him emotionally but so that he’d know exactly how high the stakes were. “Unless you
want
the wrong people to find
her.”

“What are you talking about?” He blustered it.

I wished I could see his face, but still having my viscera on the inside was a good sign. “The world is shrinking. Someone will figure it out. How many people know about your bat birthmark? You used to boast about it so I’d guess quite a few. Are you sure she’s still hiding hers?”

Silence.

I pressed my point. “You need to find Eloise before they do. You need to find her
now
.”

“Who’s Eloise?” Camille asked brightly.

I had a brief irrational urge to hug her. Even though she often played the sex pot card, she wasn’t stupid. Nosferatu would hear the eager interest in her voice. He’d know the clock was ticking on his secret. On his daughter.

Click
. A flood of golden light came from a small desk lamp. I blinked. After the total darkness even the mellow light was harsh.

Flocked wallpaper, overstuffed leather furniture and a wet bar padded with quilted leather were revealed. It was a study like Ric’s but bloated—a handsome face gone puffy with overindulgence.

Nosferatu stood at the bar, pouring himself a drink. He was taller than in his portrait, and slender instead of spindly. Another facet of vampire physiology, maybe. He’d purged himself of his humanity, but in two hundred years something had made up for part of it. Damn, I really hoped I lived long enough to study all of that. Like, longer than the next ten minutes.

With his neatly barbered silver hair, suit and sweater vest, Nosferatu was almost dapper. But while his form was elegant, his features were coarse and bold, bushy black eyebrows and eyes now snapping black.

Sure enough, there was that small bat birthmark on his cheek.