Summoning Sebastian (7 page)

“Oh, we're making progress, all right,” I told him.

“So there's a problem?”

“A big problem.” I looked him straight in the eye and let the bomb drop. “If we go to Siberia, you'll have to meet my parents.”

For a split second, I swear he looked utterly terrified. Then he blinked, swallowed and said quite calmly, “Your parents are in Siberia?”

“Apparently they are, yes.”

There was another long pause from Colin. Then he said, still quite calmly, “I see. That should be interesting.”

“Interesting is one way of putting it.”

With a shrug that fooled nobody, he dismissed the entire conundrum. “We'll worry about that when the time comes. Right now, I'm thinking it might be time to talk to your friend Eric.”

“Eric isn't my friend… Wait. Why do I need to talk to him?”

“We're going to help him with his investigation.”

Right. That had been my idea. Why did I bother having ideas? They were never that good and almost always involved my having to do things I had no desire to do. “When do you propose we do that?”

“As soon as possible. No matter what kinds of strings you have that you can pull, it's going to be a few days before we can get everything sorted so we can leave the country. In the meantime, we have to figure out how to take Sebastian with us. Eric doesn't know it, but he has some of the answers we need. So we volunteer to help him out.”

I nodded. It made sense, but that didn't make me any happier about it.

Colin wasn't done. “And by we, I mean me, because you're staying home.”

“I most certainly am not staying home. This was my idea. You're not closing me out.” Funny how I suddenly wanted to claim my inconvenient ideas the minute somebody tried to horn me out of any possible excitement.

“I don't want you out there. It could be dangerous.”

He was being cagey. I could tell from his expression, because it was really cagey. Complete with shifty eyes and a look that told me he was making shit up on the spot because he had no real justification for his half-assed declarations.

I planted a hand on my hip. “What? Why do you want me to stay home?”

“I told you. It could be dangerous.”

“You've sent me out night after night to knock on doors and ask vampires for money. I've almost died like, ninety-two times.” Okay, three, but who was counting? “Why is this suddenly too dangerous?”

“I don't like you being around that cop.”

There. We'd finally hit the crux of the problem. I crossed my arms over my chest. “I see. And why is that?”

“Because he's always flirting with you.”

“I don't even like him. I have told you I don't know how many times that he's a pain in my ass prick-faced asshole oh my God, you're jealous.”

Both his eyebrows winged up. “Jealous? Why would I be jealous?”

“You're jealous because I don't like him, and you think that means I like him.”

For a moment, he looked confused. Who could blame him? Then his mouth went into a stubborn line, and I knew I'd hit the mark. “That doesn't even make any sense.”

“Oh yes, it does. And it isn't true. But keep being jealous. It's cute. Also? I'm totally coming with you.”

“No, you're not.”

“Yes, I am.” I grabbed my coat. He could argue with me about it in the car.

Co
lin called Eric—apparently it was dangerous for me to hear Officer Harrison's sultry tones over the telephone—and we met Eric at the police station just before midnight. Eric led us to a conference room, which was a few steps up from the usual interrogation room I tended to end up sitting in when I was dragged to police stations. Eric even brought us coffee. It was shitty coffee, but it had caffeine in it, so why fuss?

Eric and Colin mumbled through some kind of male greeting ritual, which surprised me since Eric didn't like Colin. Then again, Eric didn't like anybody with fangs. He had a strong prejudice against Vampire-Americans. If he'd decided he needed Colin's help, though, he had a vested interest in being civil. I fixed a cup of coffee for myself as well as for Colin, then turned a seat around and sat in it backward.

“Have there been any similarities between the attacks?” I wasn't quite sure why I asked the question, but it seemed to need asking, and if Eric would give up some of his super-secret police knowledge, I didn't see how it could be anything but helpful. It had the added benefit of breaking up the testosterone-laden mumbling going on around the table.

“Location-wise, yes,” Eric answered, unfazed by what could have been construed as a rude interruption. “Not the same locations,” he added before I could point out that blatantly obvious fact. “Similar locations.”

“How so?” This was Colin, who was now sipping his coffee and listening with a deep frown, his eyes nearly disappearing under the dominant, furrowed display of his unparalleled ability to concentrate.

“Three of the locations were near cannabis dispensaries. Recreational, not medical.”

I rolled my eyes. I knew all this was going to come around to having something to do with pot. Because of course it did. “Vampires are fighting over weed? Why in the world? Do vampires even toke?” I glared at Colin. Obviously he wasn't keeping me in the know about the vagaries of his species.

“I assume some might,” he offered unhelpfully. “Is that the only common factor?”

“No. There's also been several arrests for soliciting near all those same locations, both before and after the dispensaries opened.”

“For blood or sex?” Colin asked. I remembered the women we'd seen when we'd found the control chain, and felt like pieces were starting to make sense.

“Good amount of both, it looks like.”

Colin rubbed his chin. “Turf wars?”

“Maybe. Vamps aren't allowed to own dispensaries, but I'm sure more than a few work in them. Can't hurt to keep the security beefed up in a place like that.”

With a nod, Colin sat up straight and released part of his thoughtful glare. I could almost hear his forehead sigh in relief. “It's a theory. I think it's one we can work with.”

“Good.” Eric looked pleased, maybe even enthused. I suddenly envisioned a vampire/human buddy cop movie forming itself between them. I shuddered.

They were paying me no attention, though, which was fine with me. Bending their heads together over the table, they began to formulate a plan.

I can't say I was nuts about what they came up with. It made sense, though, so I went along with it.

My face must have given something away though, because on the ride home Colin said, “Don't worry. You'll make a great hooker.”

“Go fuck yourself,” I told him, and stared out the window while he laughed.

He really is the shittiest of shitty boyfriends. But I'd been right—I was totally going with him.

C
hapter Seven

Q: So what exactly is your creative process? Some of these songs are pretty out there.

A: Honestly? A couple hits off a really good joint, then I head for the vampire side of town. Get high and get bit—nothing like it.”
—William Van Vorst, Chicago musician, in
Spin
magazine

W
e met Eric on Colfax, a few blocks away from where Colin and I had found the control chain. There was another dispensary there—since legalization, there were nearly as many dispensaries as there were Starbucks in the downtown area. Also, from what I knew about Colfax, this was prime hooker-acquiring territory. It seemed like an unsavory location.

“Why here?” I asked, though Colin seemed unconcerned. As a general rule, he was considerably more comfortable in unsavory parts of town than I was. Partially because he was a man, but mostly because he was a vampire. Also probably because he gave off a “don't fuck with me” vibe you could hear all the way to Nebraska on a clear day.

Eric was scanning the area, taking in the details, I assumed. Probably thinking about arresting some people who looked at him sideways. Or maybe not—if he started making arrests, we wouldn't be very inconspicuous, and inconspicuousity was a vital part of this plan. “There was a vampire attack here last night. Not the same kind as the ones your friend has been involved in—”

“Allegedly, not proven, no evidence,” I broke in. Eric continued blithely.

“—but it's been a hotbed for vampire-on-vampire violence over the past several months. Which is what makes me think there's a turf war.”

“For the hookers or the pot?” Colin asked. It was a valid question, one I was vaguely surprised he hadn't asked back at the station.

“Mostly the hookers, from what I hear. The pot shops don't want the hookers around because it gives them a bad reputation. They're running a legal business, and they don't want their reputation sullied.”

“They're selling weed.” Colin seemed to have missed the whole marijuana legalization train. Then again, many trains of twenty-first-century progress had pretty much run him right over.

Eric shrugged. “Yes. But it's legal.” His sour expression made me think he'd been left at that particular station too. Unsurprising, given his opinions on the legalization of vampires.

“It actually makes sense,” I put in. “Especially if the hookers are selling blood as well as, you know, the usual stuff.”

With an approving look in my direction, Eric nodded. “Exactly. And so we get a turf war. So I thought we might be able to get Colin here to scare up some unsavories. Even if we don't get the vampire ghost, or whatever the hell he is, I might recognize some other faces off the current Most Wanted list.”

It was a good plan, I had to give him that. Not quite what we'd volunteered for, but we had our own agenda, as well, so we were all making use of each other to our own advantage. In any case, the plan we'd cobbled together back at the station would work in spite of the slight shift in motive.

“I'll call in to the station and let them know we're here,” Eric said. He headed back to the car while Colin moved a bit closer to me.

“Where should we put it?” he asked.

“Somewhere Eric won't see it.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “A more specific suggestion would be welcome.”

I scanned the area. There wasn't much in the way of dirt to bury things in—mostly concrete sidewalk and paved road. Although there were a few decorative planters next to a nearby streetlight. The plants inside were dead to the point of crispiness—unsurprising given the time of year. “There?” It seemed like a good plan, especially since we'd found the chain in a planter to begin with.

“Good idea.” Colin headed that way, nonchalant and not suspicious looking at all. I mean that sincerely—no sarcasm for once. He could be a sneaky little shit when he wanted to be.

I was watching him when Eric returned from the car. “Okay, we're set.” He looked around, expression shifting to puzzlement. “Where's the vamp?”

Colin was in plain sight next to the planters. I started to point this out, then realized Eric literally couldn't see him. Colin had glamoured himself so no one would catch him planting our vampire-summoning charm in the dirt. I could see him because, after 48 hours of severe pain and suffering, I had been rendered immune to the proverbial vampire whammy. Such is the price I pay for not being turned into a vampire zombie by the lovely Pieter and his minions.

“He'll be right back,” I said, watching Colin kneel by the planters and dig a hole in the dirt.

“Where did he go?”

“I don't know. Maybe he had to pee.”

Eric wasn't happy with this conjecture. “Vampires don't pee.” He paused. “Do they?”

“What am I, some kind of vampire expert?”

“Well, you're sleeping with him, aren't you?”

“Do you know about your girlfriend's peeing habits?” Turned out Eric was kind of fun to fuck with. Too bad I hadn't realized this when we were dating. Instead, I'd spent all my time trying to be nice to him.

“I don't have a girlfriend,” he shot back.

“You can't have mine.” Colin had meandered back to where Eric and I were sniping at each other. This undoubtedly looked to Eric like he'd suddenly appeared out of nowhere. He responded with a violent leap to one side.

“Speaking of peeing,” I said, unable to hold back a grin.

“You are such a bitch,” Eric snipped.

“Thank you.” I turned the grin to Colin, who looked like he might be interested in shoving Eric's face in. “Don't hurt him. It's not worth it. And I was totally being a bitch.”

Colin crossed his arms over his chest. “Unsurprising.” He gave Eric a narrow look. “So how are we setting this up?”

Eric shifted back to a more professional demeanor. “Well, I think the best course is to attract attention. You guys cross the line—get closer to the weed side of the street—and then Nim, you and Colin can do your thing, and we'll see what happens.”

“Our thing” was that I was supposed to play the hooker while Colin was the john. The biggest problem being that I had absolutely nothing in my wardrobe appropriate for streetwalking. All I owned was hoodies and jeans, a suit I'd bought ages ago and a few nice, crazy-expensive wardrobe bits Colin had bought for me. The best I'd been able to do was a T-shirt that had shrunk a couple of sizes in the wash, some skinny jeans and a concert hoodie with a vaguely obscene print on the back.

“So…” Eric said, looking expectantly at me. He made a vague gesture toward where we'd parked. “Go change into your hooker outfit?”

I looked down at myself. “This
is
my hooker outfit.”

“Seriously?” Eric started, but Colin cut him off.

“You'll be fine.” Colin eyed me critically. We'd discussed this before we'd come downtown, but it looked like he'd gotten some new ideas. “Tie your shirt up and tie the hoodie around your waist. Be sure the picture shows.”

“Or take the shirt off,” Eric suggested. “Are you wearing a decent bra?”

“Oh my God, both of you can go fuck yourselves.”

“It was a reasonable suggestion,” Colin protested. “
Are
you wearing a decent bra?” Okay, why the hell was Colin taking Eric's side? This was just weird. Maybe he just wanted to see me half-naked in the middle of the street. It seemed like the kind of thing Colin would enjoy.

Point of fact, I did have on a nice bra for once. Brand-new, it was black satin with some pretty lace on it. I shrugged out of the hoodie, tied my T-shirt up at the bottom so the top was pulled down enough to show the tops of the lacy black cups, then tied the hoodie around my waist with the hood on the inside. The design, which looked like a couple of indeterminate gender going at it, or possibly some dolphins if you crossed your eyes a little, was nicely showcased spread across my ass.

“Is this good enough?”

Both men were appraising me with a surprisingly high level of approval. “You actually look pretty good,” Eric conceded.

“Oh, thanks. Damn me with faint praise.” I shrugged one shoulder of the T-shirt down a little farther. Eric could have a nice, long look at what he hadn't gotten a chance at because of his overall dumbness. Colin took my arm and drew me a bit farther down the street. With a nod, Eric headed back for his car. Apparently the game was on.

“You actually do look pretty damn hot,” Colin said.

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, not everybody can pull off hot wearing a ripped-up My Chemical Romance hoodie.” It was actually a compliment. I resisted the urge to preen, then realized preening would be totally in character for what we were doing and stopped resisting. “Thank you kindly. How much would you be willing to pay to get your vampirey hands on this hotness?”

Colin settled into his role right away, following my lead. “I'll give you fifty for a hand job, another twenty-five if you let me bite you.”

“That's insulting,” I shot back. I didn't actually know the going street value of a hand job plus biting, but his offer seemed low to me. “Let's start at a hundred, and then we can negotiate the biting.”

“You really think you're worth that much?”

“Damn straight I do. You've never had hands like this on your dick before in your life. Unlife. Whatever.”

“That's a pretty bold statement considering I've been around since 1634.”

Well, look at that. Pretend to be a hooker, learn something new about your boyfriend. I started to answer, but just then the door behind us, leading into the brightly lit pot shop, swung open and a man joined us on the street. Correction. A vampire. I wasn't sure how I could tell, but I knew. There was something about the way the fanged ones smelled, or the way they held themselves. Or maybe it had to do with my own whammy resistance. I'd always had a bit of a nose for them.

More to the point, I'd thought regulations disallowed vamps from owning retail pot shops. Maybe they'd tweaked that law. Since they'd passed the laws, they kept tweaking, trying to get everything settled, so it was impossible to keep up. Or maybe this dude was just the bouncer.

In any case, the vampire was big, with big shoulders and a really grumpy look on his face. In fact, he outdid Colin in both cases, which was pretty impressive given the width of Colin's shoulders and the usual intensity of his grumpiness.

“You two need to get the fuck out of here,” he said, his voice low and growly. “I don't want this shit going down in front of my shop.”

“Right, like you're so classy,” Colin shot back. Then, in a mocking tone, he added, “Got any weeeeeed, dude?”

I wasn't sure what to expect. I don't think anyone was. But while Colin and the owner of the pot shop squared off, just short of whipping out their dicks and a measuring tape, something happened behind us.

I whirled. I'm not sure why. Maybe it was a sound, a smell, a waft of air against the back of my head. Whatever it was, some sense of mine picked it up, sending me into fight-or-flight, with a massive dose of adrenaline dropping into my bloodstream. My heart started beating so hard I thought it might fly out of my mouth. It was a decidedly unpleasant sensation.

But when I turned around and discovered why my internal defense systems had gone batshit, it got even worse.

A mass of…something…was heading toward me from the planter where Colin had buried the strange, unpleasant talisman. At first, it looked like just an amorphous collection of dust, light and weird glowy bits like someone had planted a firecracker in the middle of a phosphorescent jellyfish. Then eyes appeared in the middle of the weird mess. And then I saw a face. And I knew that face.

The fact I recognized Sebastian's features in that glowing mess didn't override my lizard brain's interpretation of his appearance as a threat. Which was a good thing. There was no way to know what might have happened if I'd tried to approach him as a friend, but it probably would have been bad. As it was, I flung myself to the sidewalk and yelled, “Look out!”

The mass of light passed directly over me, and I gasped at the weird, clammy-yet-hot sensation that passed over me. I closed my eyes for a second, overwhelmed, my skin unable to parse the sensations it was being subjected to. Largely because, in the midst of the strange, hot, vast, weird feeling, like somebody had dumped a natural mud mineral bath on me except kind of slimier, there was a distinct sense of familiarity.

If I'd had any doubt the weird specter was Sebastian—and believe me, I'd had huge doubts regarding that conclusion—they were gone now. The face in the midst of the glow cloud, the weird sense that some part of this substance had touched me before—it was enough to make me queasy. Really queasy.

As a result, I didn't look up to see what was going on with Colin until I heard a strange, strangled sound from where he'd been tussling with the other vampire. When I did look up, my stomach took a weird sideways dive and for a second I thought I was going to toss my cookies on the sidewalk.

The sound hadn't come from Colin. It had come from the other vampire. The glowing, amorphous mass that was somehow Sebastian had wrapped around him, holding him in place while another phosphorescent tentacle wrapped around his neck. His eyes had started to bulge—literally—and I could see the skin parting under the glowing strand. Colin had taken a step back and was staring. A sound behind me—not one that sent the adrenaline pouring again—made me fairly certain Eric had come to join the party.

I'm not sure what made me do it. Maybe the look of horrified helplessness on Colin's face. Maybe the thought that if somebody didn't do
something
, the poor pot-shop vampire's eyeballs were going to pop out and stick to the brick wall, and I really didn't want to see that. Or maybe it was because I'd finally accepted that this was, indeed, somehow Sebastian, and I loved Sebastian, and I knew he wouldn't want to kill people over a turf war even if the “people” in question were vaguely skeevy vampires who harbored problematic, possibly misogynistic attitudes toward sex workers.