No Man's Land (2 page)

“It is not my place to believe or offer an opinion, my Master,” she said instead. “My place is only to serve and obey.”

The Master sighed and leaned back into his chair, his hands forming a steeple under his chin as he eyed her with consideration.

“But obey, you did not.” He stated this as a fact.

No, she had not. The demon was an ass. They were all asses — crude, demanding, breaking rules and violating other patrons. Every time a demon came into the casino, she held her breath. Kelly had seen her share of demons in and out of the casinos, and something always went wrong. This had gone terribly wrong, but there would be no excuse for her behavior. At the end of the day, she was just another worker, another Made whose death would be insignificant except to serve as an example to the others.

If they had found the money, she would have been doubly screwed. Not that she could be any more screwed than “dead.” It’s not like the money was going to be of benefit where she was going. Rich didn’t do a person much good when their heart was ripped out and their head decorating the lobby on a pike.

Kelly felt the tension in the room build; the only sound the swish–swish of silk. . She glanced over, wondering if could manage to rip the foot off the Prince’s leg before they killed her. That had to be the most annoying noise in the world. Worse than a Barry Manilow instrumental.

“Did you obey yesterday evening, Kelly?” the vampire behind the desk asked.

“No, my Master,” Kelly replied.

Well, this was it. Time to face the music. The panic that had gripped her for hours in the hallway returned full force, and she struggled to remain upright.

The Master leaned forward and looked at a few other papers on his desk, making notes on one of them. After a few minutes he looked up, as if surprised to see her and Pierre still standing there.

“Pierre, please take her downstairs to the first floor. I’ll send Kyle down momentarily with instructions.”

Pierre didn’t hesitate to half–drag Kelly by the arm through the door. She knew exactly where she was going. There was a room on the first floor for punishment. It had easy access to the private back alley for disposal of bodies and parts. Hopefully it would just be parts of her going out that door and not her lifeless body.

2

K
elly stood in the punishment room and tried to maintain her composure. It was no use. She’d begun retching the moment she’d walked in, and although she managed to wrestle her empty digestive system under control, she couldn’t stop the shaking that wracked her body. This was so much worse than she’d ever imagined. Everything in the room reminded her that there were things she dreaded more than death.

Pierre stood beside her, no doubt to keep her from killing herself before they had a chance to extract maximum pain and agony. There was one chair in the room, and Kelly refused to go near it. It looked like an execution chair with straps for arms, legs, and even for the head. Fully strapped in, the neck would be open and free. Lots of other parts would be too.

Trays on wheels lined the walls, their silk–draped surfaces filled with neatly lined tools. Picks, saws, hammers, pliers, drills, torches. The padded walls ensured total soundproofing. The smell of the room was even worse than the appearance — bleach and cleaning fluid that did little to cover up the overwhelming scent of blood, vomit, excrement, and fear. Pierre grinned gleefully, fairly dancing in anticipation. There was nowhere for Kelly to look that didn’t remind her of what was coming.

The door clicked open and the Prince walked in flanked by two male vampires. He nodded toward her, and she could have sworn she saw a flash of amusement in his bored eyes. The two males grabbed her by the arms and took her to the chair, strapping her in. She didn’t resist. It wasn’t like she could fight two vampires, evade Pierre and the Master’s son, then somehow manage to escape from a resort filled with loyal vampires. Even if she did, where would she go? Better to take her punishment and die with some dignity.

Calm. Calm. You can get through it, girl. You’re strong enough to endure anything they do to you
. She could do this. There would either be a lot of pain, and she’d live, or a lot of pain and she’d die. Either way, it wouldn’t go on forever. Kelly tried everything she could think of to calm herself, but it was impossible when she was strapped to a chair and facing shining torture instruments.

One of the older vampires took a metal apparatus, and gripping her jaw, shoved it into her mouth. The device held her mouth open. Even with her vampire strength, she was unable to move her jaw, the strap across her head holding her immobile. Suddenly Kelly realized what they meant to do. Whatever resolve she’d had fled. She trembled uncontrollably as her heart pounded and tears flooded her eyes, blinding her. Rough, calloused hands pinched her jaw, bruising and digging into her flesh.

“Let me,” a deep voice said. Strong fingers gripped her jaw and expertly hit the pressure points. Her fangs snapped down, exposed.

Tears poured from her eyes, and her breath came in fast pants as she felt the scrape of metal on her right fang. White light blinded her. Pain made all conscious thought impossible as the fang was yanked from her mouth. Kelly heard herself scream as if it were another person. Blood and venom from her glands filled her mouth, and she choked and sputtered instinctively to keep from inhaling the fluids. Crimson bubbled and spat from her mouth as she gasped for air. She’d barely had time to recognize the pain when she felt the metal on her second fang.

“No, no, no,” she begged as coherently as she could with her mouth pried open and the flood of blood threatening to pour down her lungs. Again the hand held her jaw and she felt the white–hot pain as the fang was yanked from her mouth in one pull. Everything went dark.

She came to, not sure how long she’d been unconscious, and realized they were unstrapping her from the chair. Was that it? They only pulled her fangs? Not that removing her fangs was light punishment. A vampire’s fangs were deeply embedded into the bone of their jaw, and nerve endings filled the tooth and canals leading to the venom glands. They were one of the few body parts that wouldn’t regenerate. Without them, she would need another vampire’s assistance to feed, or face a slow and painful starvation. But that was the future. Right now, she was hoping to survive long enough to face it.

The two older vampires pulled her from the chair and dragged her by her arms out the back door to the private alley. Blood poured from Kelly’s mouth, dribbling a trail of red down her clothing and across the floor. Her glands had long emptied, leaving her mouth tingly with a sharp, bitter taste. The empty sockets, where her fangs had been, throbbed with agony. She thought about the day before, when she’d fed on a guest who’d borrowed heavily at the black jack table. His blood had tasted warm and rich with a tang of gin from the martinis he’d drank. She’d never envisioned that would be her last meal.

Pierre thrust open the door into the alley, and the moonlight stung her eyes, the reek of dumpsters assaulting her nose. They weren’t just filled with rotted lettuce and banana peels; but also with dismembered body parts. She could smell them; the congealed blood, and the decaying flesh. Everything was so sharp, so clear. It was as the books had said — death brought her surroundings into clearer focus. The two vampires holding her arms spun her around. She caught a glimpse of Pierre’s smug face, and the emotionless, somewhat bored expression on the Master’s son before a fist in her stomach doubled her over.

Blows came at her from all sides, and Kelly ineffectually tried to deflect them with her hands. It only meant the few that missed her waist and head bruised her arms instead. A kick to the side threw her off balance, and she curled into a ball on the oily asphalt, trying to protect her midsection.

“Get her back up again.”

Pierre’s frustrated voice sounded tinny in her ringing ears. A hand grabbed each of her arms, one twisting until she heard her shoulder pop and felt a snap of bone. The two elder vampires held her upright, while Pierre, grinning with glee, repeatedly punched her face.

The pain all blended together with the tickle of wet blood from her arm, face, and mouth. It hurt to breathe, and in her blurred vision she saw the Prince standing ten feet away with his arms crossed, his toe tapping impatiently.
Won’t get blood on his suit or shoes over there
, she thought through the pain. Pierre’s fists left her face, and he drove a hard punch into her shoulder, ripping the splintered edge of her broken arm through the flesh.

“Help him out. I don’t have all night,” the Prince drawled. One of the vampires that had been holding her upright, kicked the side of her leg, and Kelly felt her knee give way and heard the sharp crack as her thigh bone fractured. The vampire on the other side mirrored his move slightly higher, breaking her other leg. Now she was suspended by her separated shoulder, the weight of her body sagging in agony on broken ribs.

“Kill me,” she pleaded, looking at the only man in the alley with the authority to grant her a merciful death.

The Prince smiled. “But that would be no fun at all, and we have a long evening ahead of us. Let’s see how long we can make it last.”

The two vampires at her side let go of her shoulders, and Kelly collapsed, her broken legs folding like sticks beneath her. Three sets of feet kicked at her, tossing her back and forth like a football with the force of each blow. Thankfully, one to the side of her head knocked her into blessed oblivion.

3

J
aq held her tall, thin frame absolutely still in the shadows of the propane tank. The three men with the big black car were vampires, and she did not want them to see her — or smell her for that matter. It was a few hours until dawn. If she hadn’t been out hunting, she would never have seen them drive silently up to the vacant trailer.

Skirting the patches of moonlight, she darted to the rear of the trailer, assessing this new threat. One vampire would have been child’s play, but three? And these weren’t just lone scouts or spies; these ones were warriors.

Half crawling, she cautiously peered around the cinder blocks that supported the mobile home. Two warriors, she corrected. They were both old and strong enough to give her pause, but the third one raised the skin on the back of her neck. He seemed an attractive human male in an expensive suit, but the feel of power rolling from him set her on edge. It was a young power, raw and untrained, but it still felt like a fist against her senses. The odds weren’t in her favor taking on these three. It would be better to take a hit to her pride and live to fight another day.

“What stinks here?” the large one complained, holding a beefy hand in front of his nose. “Don’t these rednecks ever bathe? It smells like a cross between dogs in heat and old ham.”

The one in the suit ignored him. Jaq could see by the buzzing street light that his outfit would have cost more than every car on the block combined. It fit well, like it was custom made, and glided in a quiet rustle as he moved.
Silk
, she thought, sniffing the air.

They pulled something out of the trunk of the car bundled in sheets. It looked like a body. Jaq could smell the old blood. Lots of blood. Her nose told her it was a strange mix of human and vampire blood.
Had they killed a human?
she wondered uneasily. If so, she might not be able to let them leave without a challenge, regardless of how it would probably end. Trespassing was one thing, but poaching was unforgivable.

But why was there a faint vampire smell to the old blood? None of the men appeared injured, so it probably wasn’t coming from them. Was it a dead human in that sheet or a dead vampire? And why would they dump a body outside their own territory?

The large, complaining vampire tossed the body over his shoulder and strode up the rickety wooden steps into the trailer. Jaq saw a thin white arm dangle loose from the sheet and she caught her breath. A woman? A child? Silently she glided in the shadows back around to the rear of the trailer and peeked through a corner window. The large man threw the body down carelessly, unconcerned that a portion of it landed hard against the coffee table before rolling onto the carpet.

“Take the sheet.” The tall one laughed. “Don’t even leave her with that.”

The large one ripped the sheet from the body, thumping it against the floor and edge of the couch. “I’d take her clothes off and leave her naked if they weren’t so filthy with blood,” he said in amusement.

The two men left the trailer and Jaq moved to see the inside better through the window. The woman on the floor was tiny, with a cap of dark hair. Her legs and arms twisted unnaturally, and blood seeped out in a slow spread across the carpet.

Her scabs must have been ripped off with the sheet
, Jaq thought. She watched the spread of crimson slow to a stop and winced. The poor thing probably didn’t have much blood left in her to lose.

The trailer door banged open again and Jaq froze, afraid to move lest the vampire notice her looking through the window. The man wearing the suit came in and stared down at the body. He removed something from his jacket and placed it on the coffee table.

“Ten grand says you don’t make it three days,” he told the body. “I really like to win my bets, so I’ll leave you this gift.”

He left the trailer, and Jaq heard the big car crunch its way down the gravel road. Carefully she made her way around to the front of the trailer and in the door, wincing as it squeaked open on rusty hinges. The body remained motionless on the ground.

“Hello,” she called softly. The woman hadn’t responded from being tossed around the floor, but Jaq wasn’t taking any chances.

The body stayed still, and Jaq cautiously approached, leaning down to check the periodic pulse and occasional breath.
This woman shouldn’t be alive
, she thought. Legs were twisted practically backwards, bone protruded from a shoulder, and probably from elsewhere given the odd lumps in her clothing. The woman was covered in blood and vomit, urine and some kind of glandular secretion. She smelled of vampire, but that might have been from her attackers. Wanting to make sure, Jaq leaned closely and sniffed, jumping back as the sharp, familiar scent hit her nose. Vampire, but weak and heavily tinged with human odors. Whoever she was, she’d been turned less than two centuries ago.