House of the Rising Sun (35 page)

A
fternoon stretched into evening and still no sign of the gang leader. Augustine hoped that Scarface, as they’d nicknamed the vamp leader, hadn’t caught wind of their systematic wipeout of his gang.

“Got one leaving the building,” Cy called out. “Not Scarface. You want me to question this one before I kill him? See what I can find out?”

“Couldn’t hurt, boss,” Beatrice answered. She’d mellowed considerably with a few kills under her belt.

“Sure,” Augustine said. “See what you can get.”

They all listened while Cy did his job. After a little physical motivation, Cy started with the questions. “Where’s your leader?”

“Idiot. Vampires don’t have a leader.”

A thump, followed by a moan. “The one with the scar on his face. Where is he?”

The next sound was unmistakably that of spitting. Then a sharp cracking, which Augustine envisioned as Cy’s fist breaking the vampire’s nose. The howling that followed confirmed his theory. Cy’s voice was as low and gravelly as distant thunder. “Answer me, leech.”

The vampire’s curse came out nasally, perhaps due to his collapsed sinus cavity.

Augustine couldn’t place the wet, sucking sound that came
next. The yelp of pain meant Cy was still pursuing his line of questioning, but in what manner…

“My fang!”

Cy grunted. “Answer me and I’ll let you live so you can grow another one.”

The vampire whimpered, his missing canine giving him a lisp. “He’th in the townhouth getting ready to hunt.”

“How many are in there altogether?”

“Him and three others. Now leth me go.”

“You’re going all right.” The shooshing of flesh turning to ash was unmistakable. “You got all that, boss?”

“Yes. Too bad we don’t know how many more are still out there.”

“Sorry,” Cy said. “I should have asked that.”

“No worries.” Augustine hesitated. “Did you really rip his fang out?”

A few seconds went by before Cy answered. “Should I not be taking souvenirs?”

“It’s all good.” Augustine laughed, relief coming with the knowledge that Scarface was close at hand. “When Scarface comes out, I’m on him. If he comes out in a group, I’ll take Sydra and Beatrice with me.”

He could hear the smile in Sydra’s voice. “The drunk girlfriends routine?”

“That’s the one. Cy, switch places with us so we can watch the entrance.”

“You got it, boss.”

Half an hour later, under the pale light of the crescent moon, Scarface emerged from the townhouse. “Here we go,” Augustine whispered as he crossed himself. “And he’s got two with him. That leaves one in the townhouse and who knows how many yet to return. Cy, get back here. You and Dulcinea are on point. Sydra, Beatrice and I are on the hunt.”

With the women at his sides, they followed after Scarface and his bodyguards. Sydra and Beatrice played their roles perfectly, laughing, missing a step here and there and keeping up the perfect amount of low-key chatter. To any passerby, the three of them would appear like a tipsy trio out for a night of carefree fun.

“Damn it.” Augustine kept his voice low. “They headed into Lucky Frog’s.”

“We’ve got this,” Beatrice answered with soft reassurance. She trailed a hand down Augustine’s chest as she went back into character. “I want to dance!”

Sydra let out a whoop. “Me, too!”

Augustine swiped his LMD across the credit strip to pay their cover and in they went. The noise level in Lucky Frog’s made his sensitive fae ears ache. How could humans stand such racket? But there were humans everywhere, packing the place until walking from one end to the other was like wading through the bayou.

He gave Sydra’s and Beatrice’s hands a little squeeze to get their attention, then gestured for them to go after the bodyguards and draw them away from Scarface. The women nodded and headed into the crowd, Beatrice unbuttoning her top a little as she went while Sydra yanked the clip from her hair, letting her burnished red mane fall free around her shoulders. If either of Scarface’s bodyguards had the slightest interest in redheads, they’d have a hard time ignoring the fiery duo coming their way.

While the women went toward their targets, Augustine pushed through the crowd and up the steps to the elevated bar and walkway that ran around the top half of the club. It was less crowded and gave him a better vantage point, but he still found himself brushing off the advances of interested females every
few steps. He located Sydra and Beatrice. Even with their red hair, the strobing lights and pulsing colors made them hard to pick out in the crush. They were closing in on the bodyguards.

He worked his way toward that side of the bar and stayed close to the stairs. Somehow, the women convinced the bodyguards to dance with them. Augustine watched for a minute, making sure they had things handled. Each one was maneuvering her vampire into a separate corner of the club. Things were definitely handled.

Scarface had some female company of his own. Augustine hung back. Scarface was flirting hard and the human female was giving it right back. He bought her a shot, which led to another, which led to the woman’s quick intoxication. Scarface acted drunk, but it took a lot more than that to get a vampire wasted.

Scarface took her hand and started leading her back toward the bathrooms. Augustine headed to the main level on full alert. He wasn’t sure if Scarface would kill her or just drink a little, but Augustine wasn’t waiting to find out. Scarface had already had his last meal, he just didn’t know it.

Ahead of Augustine, they slipped into the unisex bathroom.

A shot girl stepped into his path. “Can I interest you in a Screaming Orgasm?”

He stopped. “What? No.”

She smiled a little bigger and leaned forward to show off her cleavage. “How about a Louisiana Leg-Spreader?”

“Get. Out. Of. My. Way,” he growled. “Now.”

“Rude,” she muttered as she lifted her tray and slid out of his path.

He rushed past, shoving through the crowd to get to the bathroom before it was too late for the female victim. He threw his shoulder into the door, cracking it open. The woman was up
on the counter and Scarface had a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back. His other hand was traveling up her thigh, hiking her dress up. She moaned—fear or ecstasy, Augustine couldn’t tell. Didn’t matter.

He grabbed her arm and yanked her away. “Get out,” he snarled, his eyes on Scarface.

“What the hell?” She swatted at him as she stumbled, trying to get her balance. “You get out, perv.”

Scarface zipped his pants as he turned around. “Listen to her or I’ll—” He ran a tongue over his fangs. “Get yourself a drink, honey. I’ll find you when I finish with our
intruder
.”

Muttering to herself, the woman took off.

Scarface raised a brow. “Well, well. Look who finally grew a pair. Took you long enough to track me down, but then I guess that’s to be expected with your inferior senses.”

Augustine almost laughed. “Nothing you say or do will change your fate tonight. But tell me the name of the fae who let you into the city and I’ll
think
about letting you live.” For like two seconds, right before putting a blade through his heart.

Scarface snorted. “You think you and your stubby little horns scare me? I’m a vampire, son. My gang and I will tear this city up if you so much as sneeze in my direction.” He pushed away from the counter. “Get out of my way.”

Augustine didn’t budge. “The rest of your gang have either been staked or are about to be. Including the two bodyguards you came here with. Now it’s your turn for killing Olivia Goodwin.”

“Is that so?” Snickering, Scarface pulled an LMD out of his pocket and unlocked it, then tapped something and started calling out names into the receiver. No one answered him. His unnaturally pale skin took on a slightly green hue.

The swish of metal being unsheathed didn’t help the vampire’s complexion. Dagger in hand, Augustine stepped closer, grimacing as the vampire’s sour tang overloaded his nostrils.

Scarface threw his hands up. “Okay, you’ve killed my crew, you’ve proven you’re serious, how about we just call it even and I agree never to come back here?”

“I have a better idea. It ends with a pile of ash unless you give me the fae who brought you here.”

“There he is!” The shout behind him was followed by a burst of movement. Two burly men rushed into the bathroom behind the female Augustine had saved from Scarface’s clutches. “He assaulted me.”

The bouncers grabbed Augustine’s arms. “He’s got a weapon,” one shouted to the other. Augustine jerked away, but it was too late.

Scarface took the opportunity and jumped through the bathroom’s single frosted-glass window, sending a spray of glass into the air and ripping the bars off the other side.

“Hell no.” Dark, angry heat shot through Augustine. He lunged after him only to be jerked back by the bouncers. He shoved his elbow into one’s face, breaking his nose. That got his right arm free to punch the other in the throat, taking him down. The drunk woman sobered up enough to make a run for the door.

Augustine leaped out the window after Scarface, but the street was empty. “Scarface is in the wind. Last seen in the alley behind Lucky Frog’s.”

From their posts around the city, his lieutenants checked in and the hunt got under way.

But an hour later there was still no sign of him.

Augustine growled, knowing the sound would carry through his com cell and not caring. “Damn it. Time to call it.”

“You sure, boss?” Cy asked.

“Yes. Looks like he’s long gone. At least we got the rest of his crew. I doubt we’ll ever see his face again.” The urge to punch something was strong. “And if I do, I’ll kill him on sight.”

“At least he won’t remember he’s been here after he gets outside parish limits,” Sydra added.

“Yeah, I guess.” The mission had been a success, but not killing Scarface sucked every bit of triumph out of it. Augustine hated losing and this was one job he’d definitely lost. He let fly a blue tangle of the worst faeish curses he knew. Someday, somewhere, he’d find Scarface and put an end to him once and for all.

As if sensing Augustine’s darkening mood, Dulcinea spoke up. “Let’s go to Stella’s and celebrate with a round. We’ve earned it.”

“I’m going home,” Augustine answered. “I’ve had enough.”

“Come on, boss,” she cajoled. “Just one.”

“
Belle’s
,” Augustine countered. If he had to be miserable, so did Dulce.

She sighed on the other end of her com. “
Fine.
”

The rest of them cheered and Augustine smiled a little. Scarface might have gotten away, but they’d cleaned the vamps out of the city. That was something.

Too bad it wasn’t enough.

Harlow woke with a start to find the holovision still on, although the sound had been turned down, and the throw from the back of the couch pulled over her. Lally must have covered her up when she fell asleep. They’d watched
The Vampire Queen
, then
Return of the Vampire Queen
and lastly
The Vampire Queen’s Revenge
. That must have been when she’d fallen asleep.

She tapped the screen of her LMD. After midnight. Augustine would have woken her up when he’d come home, wouldn’t he? He had to know she’d want a full report on how things had
gone. She sat up and rolled the stiffness out of her shoulders. Her neck ached, too. That’s what she got for sleeping in such a weird position.

A noise made her go still. Was that a car door? Augustine must finally be home. She tossed the throw off and ran for the back door. She slid across the kitchen floor in her socks, grabbed the knob and yanked it open. The tiniest sliver of moon offered little light and the house was dark. Closing the door behind her, she stepped outside. No car lights, either. He must have parked in the garage. “Augustine?”

She moved closer to the steps, trying to see better. But as her eyes adjusted, she realized the garage door was down. Whatever she’d heard, it hadn’t been him coming home. A sudden foul odor made her wrinkle her nose. There must be a dead thing in the garden.

Turning to go inside, she ran into something.
Someone.

A hand clamped over her mouth, the skin as smooth and cold as a piece of meat. She tried to scream but the hand muffled most of it. She struck out. A hand caught hers, then an arm came around her, pinning her.
Vampire.
Somehow, she knew. He spun her so her back was to his chest.

“Hello there.” His voice was low and breathy and filled with pleasure at her discomfort. “Is that horned freak home? I know he lives here.”

She shook her head and thanked her twisted bloodlines that her gifts did not apparently extend to reading dead people. Instead of feeling emotion or getting images from him, all she got was a void. And the longer he touched her, the deeper that void became. The nothingness burrowed into her, found the hole in her heart and gnawed on the edges, widening the abyss inside her.

A new panic clutched at her. The feeling that the void might
overtake her, that she might lose herself in the nothingness. His deadness was spreading through her like a cancer.