Origins (A Demonkin Novel) (20 page)

"How the hell could you possibly know?"

"I can smell him."

I expected him to argue, but he disappointed me again and merely nodded. He stared thoughtfully at my face for a few moments and finally asked if I needed anything more here. I told him no and we headed to the SUV again. I had no idea where he planned on heading this time and to keep from starting yet another argument, I kept my mouth shut.

We didn't drive long, just headed back to the thick of the downtown area. We passed Navy Pier and made our way down Michigan Ave. Some of the greatest storefronts I had ever heard of or seen twinkled in the night, like little beacons of hope in an otherwise shitty economy. Few people in this world had the money to spare on movie paraphernalia or the latest and greatest sixty-something inch plasma televisions, yet here they sparkled for everyone to see.

We finally passed out of the shopping district and into the bar and club district, nowhere near Fangloria's. Fangloria's had been a slum compared to some of the places I saw here. Thompson pulled the Suburban into a high rise parking garage and pulled into the first available spot. He managed a little better than the eighth level like Michaels and I. The parking gods must have been with him.

We emerged from the garage and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Thompson seemed to know where he was going so I followed his massive bulk. I wondered if anyone walking toward him could even see me. I doubted it. They probably couldn't see buildings behind him. He didn't turn down any side streets, but we walked a good distance before I saw our destination. The outside of the bottom floor of the high rise had been completely covered with large golden hued glass panels unlike the blue of the remaining levels of the building. If you looked closely you could see the panels vibrating from the music being played inside.

A revolving brass door complete with matching golden-hued glass marked the entrance to the club. The line outside the door seemed even more ridiculous than the one I had seen at Fangloria's. The bouncer at the door surprised me. Every club I had been to so far had used hulking vampires to guard the entrance. Here stood a lithe figure in stretch black spandex. I needed to call the newspaper. Female bouncers only existed in fairy tales, right? Maybe not, the spandex she wore left little in the way of modesty or imagination. All I'm going to say is she obviously shaved. We walked up to the well endowed blond and Thompson flashed his badge. Skanky smiled and flashed a bit of fang.

"What can I do for you, officer?" She had what I assumed to be a Russian accent.

"Special Agent Thompson with the FBI, not "officer". This is Agent Ashlyn. We're here to ask a few people some questions."

"Good luck, Special Agent Thompson. Good luck," she said and turned her attention to me.

Things got ugly real quick. She must have recognized me from my picture in the paper. As I passed her, she let her human seeming go and bared fang as well as letting out a toe curling hiss. When the bouncer at Fangloria's hissed, my body knew instinctively he had been testing me. This wasn't a test. The lithe vampire in front of me wanted to tear me apart. I could smell her from where she stood and it wasn't a pleasant odor. I could smell the cloves and mint that she would normally smell of, but her fury changed her scent. I knew I could smell fear, and it smelled sweet and delectable, but I didn't know I could smell anger. It reeked of rotting meat and I don't think I have ever smelled anything more unpleasant. Not even headless corpses in Chinese dumpsters could compare.

I didn't hiss back at her. My body knew if I did it would be a challenge and she would attack. As far as I knew she hadn't done anything, so I let it go. I just smiled at her and ignored her challenge. I figured a fight would seriously piss of Thompson more than I already had. I looked at her eyes, and I felt something I hadn't ever felt before. No it wasn't compassion. I could see her power in her blue eyes and I could feel it. It gave me the impression of a calm pond not quite frozen on a winter's night. I looked inside myself and I felt mine. I gasped when I felt the tumultuous sea that was me. The whole experience felt mystical, but it would probably come in handy in judging an opponent. I'd have to practice when I had the chance.

"Can it, sister," I told her. "I'm not here to start trouble, especially with you." I let my power flow from inside me and let it wash over her.

I could see the surprise on her face. Master vampires and common vampires are undistinguishable except through DNA testing, or until a master vampire uses his mind to control your thoughts. Hell, they could pass for human until they showed their fangs or you felt their cold dead skin. The only vampires distinguishable on sight were the unfortunate revenants and Nosferatu. Everyone knows the bald head and sharp nails of a Nosferatu, and the drooling mindless hunger commonplace on a Revenant means run. It is why they're illegal. Nosferatu, if they can control themselves, are legal. It's not as easy as it sounds, and usually you can only find them in the employ of other vampires who can help them contain their hunger.

"Fuck you bitch! It's because of you, my Matt had to run," she said and fought not to close the distance between us and attack me. Interesting, she said he ran, so she doesn't know he's dead. At least I could spare her the suffering of not knowing, I thought with a smile. I opened my mouth to let her know just that when Thompson interrupted me.

"Let's go, Agent Ashlyn," he said authoritatively. This man sucked all the fun out of my life.

I sighed and followed Thompson. I half expected bouncer girl to take a swipe at me as I walked past, but she didn't. Damn it. He ushered me into the revolving door first (I guess he didn't trust me either) and I finally caught the name of the club on the door. The entire glass plane before me lay covered with golden window film, but the name of the club had been carefully cut out of it, "MegaBites". You have got to be fucking kidding me.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I left the revolving door and stepped out onto the floor of the gigantic club. The dance floor occupied the entire breadth and width of the room. As soon as I cleared the door my ears found themselves assaulted by the constant thrumming and pounding of techno or rave or trance (whatever they called it) music and I didn't like it. It almost hurt. I ignored the rattling in my teeth and glanced around. From the outside of the building the club looked like it occupied only the bottom floor of the building. Not so. The first floor held the dance floor, but stairs lined both sides of the room leading up to the second floor. I looked up and saw a railed balcony overlooking the festivities below. I felt impressed by the design, but I wished they would do something about the music.

Thompson came in behind me and tapped me on the shoulder to follow him. I thought maybe he wanted to dance or something, but he headed to the stairwell on our right. We emerged on the second floor and the music levels seemed much more tolerable. It could still be heard, but it wasn't at the bone jarring levels like downstairs. I looked around and gasped at the size of the bar nestled against the far wall. It had to be the longest bar in the state and the patrons waiting for drinks still stood three people deep. The rest of the floor area comprised of lounge chairs and couches nestled in groups or perched to overlook the multitudes of people dancing below. I sniffed the air and immediately smelled sweaty humans, subtlety spiced lycanthropes, sweet smelling vampires, and a couple of other aromas I couldn't identify.

Great, where did we start? I knew Matt and the dead police officer had been killed by a vampire, so I decided to start there. I glanced over at Thompson and found him looking around as well, probably wondering the same thing. I looked over his bulk again and found myself wondering exactly what kind of lycanthropy he suffered from. He smelled a tad different from wolf and I didn't know what it could be. I would have to ask him. I just hoped it wasn't impolite to ask someone, "Excuse me, sir, what animal do you change into?" Yeah right, maybe I'd just let him bring it up.

I didn't know what he planned to accomplish here, but I know what I could do. I needed to mingle and try to catch a whiff of every vampire in the place if I had to. He headed to the bar and I saw him reach into his jacket pocket and pull out the front page of the newspaper. Thompson had neatly folded it so the picture of Matt the vampire and I were the only things visible except for a partial segment of the headline and newspaper name. He made his way to the bar, and like magic, the people parted a way for him to get to it. I watched as everybody who stood in his way, kind of just stepped over to the side and started rubbing any exposed flesh. I wondered what caused it. I didn't feel anything when I stood next to him. I moved closer and sure enough I could feel a tiny hum coming from him. I found it almost pleasant. I don't know why everyone else moved away from him, if I had a choice I would have moved closer.

Straight out of a scene from a television show, Thompson waved one of the vampire bartenders over and held out the front page. "Ever seen this man before?" The bartender started shaking his head negatively before Thompson even finished. The vamp looked over the picture briefly and then looked up at me. He didn't start hissing, but I saw his brows furrow in recognition and anger. I caught his eyes and felt mine capture his. He held another small pool of power not worth worrying over. I had an "oh, shit" moment though. As I gazed into his eyes, I fell into his little pool of power.

The bar fell away until only he and I were there
.
The room darkened and our bodies became the only sources of illumination. I've seen people glow from the inside in movies, and that is exactly what we did. I saw his stare turn from anger, to puzzlement, to outright fear and then I could smell it. I'm not talking about lemons and vanilla, I smelled his fear. It smelled delicious. I could smell him too. I kind of wrinkled my nose at the slight smell of juniper berries, his normal scent, and concentrated on the fear. I knew right then and there, if I wanted to, I could have called him through our locked state and he would have climbed over the bar to my side. He wouldn't have liked it, but he would have done it.

Master vampires have the same kind of powers over humans. In the days before their emancipation it is how they called for their supper. Many a human had been roused out of their sleep to walk out into the darkly lit village streets. They quickly became a meal, and if they didn't die from the experience, in a trance like state they made their ways back to their chambers and resumed their slumber with no memory of the vampire. They might have been a little dizzy in the morning from the blood loss, but the remembrance of a pleasant dream usually overshadowed any ill effects. Today, if a vampire wanted to get themselves a warrant of execution, they could do the same thing. Mind control of humans is strictly prohibited by the Vampire Emancipation Act. The really sick thing is they didn't need to use mind tricks. Entire clubs full of people would willingly feed a vampire for the sexual thrill. Nothing gets you off faster than one of the undead sucking your life's blood out of two tiny holes in your neck, yuck.

Thompson's hand snapping his fingers in front of my face broke our trance. I blinked twice and stared up into his ebony face. The vampire behind the bar blinked and shook his head and started taking drink orders. I could still smell his fear though, and I hadn't eaten in a few days. I started to look back toward the bartender, but Thompson gently grabbed my chin and turned my face towards him.

"Did you just mind trap him?" He didn't seem angry, just curious.

"Yes," I replied meekly and more than a little guiltily.

"I'm judging by your reaction you didn't know you could. Am I right?"

I shook my head "no" and pulled my head from his hand to give it a little shake. The little shake helped clear my head from the fuzziness I felt. It felt much better now. I looked up at Thompson and gave him a weak little smile. I kind of expected some sort of sympathetic gesture on his part but, "Be careful," was all he said.

He left the bar without questioning the other two bartenders if they had ever seen Matt before, which kind of shocked me until I looked at them. The first one looked like a vampire, but he didn't move like one. I can't explain it, he didn't move slower, just sloppier. When a vampire moves it's almost calculated to get the greatest results with as little movement as possible. The others behind the bar had more fluidity in their movements than a vampire. They might have been faster and more agile than humans, but definitely not vampires.

I turned and followed Thompson. I wondered how he knew the other two bartenders weren't vamps. For all I knew his sense of smell could have been better than mine. I could distinguish between people, vampires, and lycanthropes, but only so I knew who or what I could eat. I could even distinguish between certain members of the same species. Just like how I was looking for Mr. Lemon-vanilla, but maybe Thompson's shnoz worked better at distances and could smell vampires from other species. I wish I could, it would be helpful. Instead I'm stuck with them all smelling yummy.

I happened to glance over to the end of the bar. From a distance it looked like it ran the entire length of the wall. It actually stopped three feet from the wall and formed a door, blended in with the wood of the bar. Jean Phillipe Margeaux opened the door and walked through it, allowing me to notice it. He must have made his way over here while we investigated Matt's body. I wondered what connection he had to "MegaBites".

"Thompson," I called out to my partner.

He looked at me and I nodded towards Jean Phillipe. He gazed in the direction I nodded and frowned when he saw the greasy vampire walking out from behind the bar into the club. He walked with the beat of the music and bobbed his head with the tempo smiling and flirting with any of the female club patrons and a couple of the male ones. The sleaze ball even stopped to dance with a young lady in a very, very short skirt who waited for her boyfriend to get them drinks from the bar. He whispered something in her ear and she shook her head "no". I saw him mutter something at her with a disgusted look on his face and move on. Then he saw us.