The Bloody Mary Diet: The Detective Adele Series Book 1 (11 page)

The driver opens my door and dr
ags me out. He is way bigger than me and I don’t resist but he slams my head against the door a couple of times anyway. When we get to the top of the stairs and he opens the door we are greeted by several other vampires all wearing similar suits. They all look very cheap and very greasy, I know none of these guys can be Demetri.  The biggest one comes up to us. He asks how it went and my driver, Victor, says “It went fine. She’s just a girl.”

Big laughs all around. I swear to God, when I am out of here I am going to do a study to prove there is a
correlation between being extremely stupid and extremely mean. Like, how many skin heads are members of MENSA, I am betting not a lot. The average IQ of members of the Westborough Baptist Church, probably significantly below average.  I wonder how these jackasses have the brain power to get dressed in the morning.

The big guy a
sks if he patted me down and Viktor answers, “No, I was driving.”

Big guy smiles like he just won the lottery and I realize that I am just about to get felt up in a very public way.

By the time they shove me into an attic room I have been totally molested and slapped several times but no one has asked me a single question. Not even one. Those assholes can underestimate me all day long as far as I am concerned. They may have got to slap my butt and laugh but I got to leave my phone turned on in the stolen car out front. Trevor will know where I am by now and it’s just a matter of time until he and Michaels get here.

Demetri should have hired smarter flunkies.

It is very dark and very cold in the small attic room. If I had known I was going to be abducted I would have dressed more appropriately. Flats and a coat would be good because these heals and my thin jacket are just not doing it. A protein bar and some bottled water would also be nice. Maybe next time.

I raise a small witch light and I can see a few pieces of old furniture in the room along with some old magazines and papers. They must have paid extra for the spider webs because there are a ton of them. One of the pieces of furniture is a dresser with a small broken mirror. I walk over to check my reflection. My face will be a mass of bruises. What kind of s
icko gets off on slapping a girl in the face? I slide down the wall and try to think. I have to get out of here. It’s only a matter of time until they think of more fun things to do with me and I don’t want to be here when they do.

I feel a tickle inside my left ear. I put my finger up to it and it comes out cover in blood.
My left ear is bleeding from the inside. That is probably not good.

The room doesn’t offer a lot in the way of comfort but I am able to find a broken shard of glass. I use it to carve a protection spell into the floor of the attic. It is a warding spell designed to keep evil away. It’s not strong
enough to make them leave but it will make them feel very uncomfortable. Like listening to nails on a chalk board or Nancy Grace. Relatively harmless but irritating. I use the blood from my ear to cover my hand and place it in the middle of the protection rune. Witch’s blood really amps up a spell and since I have some readily available I figure, WTF.

I watch as the carving fades slowly into the floorboards along with my bloody handprint. My people don’t use blood majik or anything with spells. Majik like that is never free. Never.  It may not cost you anything today or tomorrow but someday, and for the rest of your life. I may have stolen that.

The men downstairs start arguing. They are feeling the effect of the spell and it is making them uncomfortable. Because they are assholes they start taking it out on the only other people there. Each other. Maybe they will all be dead by the time Trevor and Michaels get here. It is definitely turning violent from what I can hear. They may tear down the whole house. Shitheads.

They looked in my handbag when I arrived but no one seemed to notice my phone was missing. I guess it must have occurred to one of them that this was odd because I hear someone coming up the stairs, someone who is yelling about a cell phone and they are very pissed off about it. I guess they couldn’t all be completely stupid. Someone had to think of stealing the cab, just for instance. I use majik to lock the door and jam it closed just as they grab the handle and start pounding. I can hold this for a very long time but not forever and the wood on the door looks like it could give at any minute.

The only way out is a tiny window on what is effectively a third floor dormer. I am tiny
so I can fit but I am not sure I want to fall that far. When I get the window open I look down, not an option. I look up and it is iffy but doable. I think I can get to the roof. As soon as I am standing on the window sill holding on to the roof I picture the room bursting into flames and it does! I have never been able to do that before. I am getting way better at this witch stuff. Adrenaline is such a rush.

The noise of the fire should cover anything I need to do to get out of here and keep
it will keep them busy. Just for good measure I seal all the doors and windows, both the interior and the exterior ones. I can’t do everything majik but I am very imaginative with the things I can do. Hopefully being locked in a burning house will occupy their little minds while I think of a way to get away. I set another fire on the first floor just to make sure. I hope they all get bruises on their bums.

I hop up onto the roof and as I am running along the roof lin
e I hear a car. It’s a vintage Jag, restored and painted a candy apple red. I watch it pull up as I bend down to crouch on the roof. No one ever thinks to look up when they are trying to find someone but I am not taking any chances. A huge man jumps out and runs toward the house. I see him drop what looks like his keys. Kick ass.

Smoke and flames are p
ouring out the upper windows.  There is an oak tree on the other end of the house that reaches over a second story ledge
. If I don’t fall and kill myself I might make it to the tree in time to avoid burning to death in the fire I set.

I am so good at making good plans. Just really good.

I make it to the tree just as he knocks in the front door and goes into the house. I jump to the ground and run to grab the keys. They are the keys to the Jag. I am saved, sort of. I torch the front porch and reseal the door to buy some extra time. I have only driven once or twice before so there is a pretty good chance that I still suck at it but I have to try. I grab a large rock and smash the front windshields of the three other cars out front. I can’t stop them from following me but I can slow them down. I jump in the Jag, crank it up and try to turn it around in the front yard. I accidently hit the cab and one of the other cars in the process. Twice. I am not totally sure but I think I may still suck at driving.

I hit the third car on purpose. Twice. I am getting better.

When I am facing the drive I take a look back at the house. It is almost completely engulfed and no one has come out yet. They are probably still trying to get me. Dead hostages are way less fun to torture and if they want to use me against Trevor they need me alive. I know they probably won’t die from the fire but it’s still funny.  I totally can’t wait to tell the guys at the station.

Thank God we are in the midd
le of nowhere because I have managed to hit about three things in the last five minutes and none of them were even moving. One was a mailbox and one was a perfectly innocent looking street sign. If I had to contend with other traffic someone might die.

The Jag is a full size sedan and it is pimped. It has a cherry dash that is probably original and a sound system that is definitely not. The
leather is new and it is too tacky for words. I don’t even feel bad about trashing it. I drive for about twenty more minutes and wish that I had a cell phone. I need to get off the road because in all likely hood this car is equipped with some kind of GPS and even with missing windshields in the other cars they will be looking for me soon.

I need to find
a barn or somewhere I can hide a car and figure out how to call Trevor. It takes about another five minutes but I find a bridge with a gradual slope that I can pull off on and hopefully under the bridge. As I start to steer over to the side and down the slope I step on the gas instead of the break and end up in the stream with blood gushing from my nose. I didn’t break the steering wheel with my face but I had definitely tried. Thankfully I am in shock or this would probably hurt like a bitch.

I
t really is a good thing I don’t drive because I really am bad at it.

When my eyes start to clear I look more closely at the dash. It definitely has a GPS. Shit. I also notice a hands free phone. I weigh my options and call Trevor
’s cell. He picks up on the first ring. I tell him that it is me and that I am alive. I don’t mention my broken nose and probable concussion. He says he will find me and to stay where I am.

“I love you Trevor. I am so sorry. I wasn’t paying attention
to the car I got into and I didn’t tell you where I was going. I promise to never do that again. You were right.”

There is a slight pause on the other side and Trevor says, “I can
’t believe you said I was right. I will see you very soon.”

I think my nose is bleeding a little less and the car is starting to fill with water. I look in the glove box and take all the paper work, there is a black brief case in the back seat and I grab that too. When I open it I find a shit ton of paper work, two burner cell phones and an expensive looking lap top. The
driver’s window is rolled down and I climb out of it. The stream is only about 10 inches deep but the turbulence is making the water come in the door. I have totally trashed Demetri’s posh car. Too funny.

My eyes are starting to swell shut and my nose is killing me but I still feel malicious enough stomp on the hood and roof
of the car about fifty times. My high heels are sturdy enough to leave awesome dents but I decide I should sit down before I fall down. My head is killing me.

About five minutes later Trevor a
nd Michael walk out of the trees. I am still sitting on top of the car holding my new brief case.

T
revor is standing right next to the stream. He looks at me and says, “Get down, now.”

Trevor is pissed at me again.
Shit. I take off my heels and walk through the stream bed toward him. As soon as he gets a close look at me and scoops me up. He looks terrified which scares me even worse.

“What’s wrong?”

“You are injured. You didn’t tell me you were hurt. I would have called an ambulance. You may have a head injury.” Trevor says this as he stares at me like I am dying. His voice sounds panicked. This wouldn’t seem so odd except that I know for a fact he fought in the War for American Independence, The Civil War, WWI and WWII. And now he is freaking out over a broken nose and a maybe concussion. Please.

I totally forgot about getting slapped around at the house. That probably is contributing to my overall crappy appearance.

I can hear Michaels calling for an ambulance saying, and I quote, “Officer down.” Three minutes ago I was stomping on a car roof and now I am “Officer down?” Drama.

Men. What are you going to do?

When Michael
s hangs up I tell him to check the trunk. If we are going to have to leave it here we should look over the whole thing. Michael pops the trunk and the interior light pops on. The interior of the trunk is British racing green. What a cheap fucker! He custom paints his car candy apple red with a fleck metallic base coat, clear coat and leaves the trunk not only unpainted but all scratched up. It looks like he kept a pride of lions in there. Totally half ass. I wish I had respected him at all before so I could respect him less now. I think I am getting loopy.

I hear sirens.

Chapter 11: Victimless Crimes.

I spend the rest of the evening
and that night in the hospital. I guess my concussion was worse than I had thought but it’s not like I could actually see it. Plus I had hit my head and that impairs your judgment. After the doctor had set my nose and the nursing staff had left Trevor opened his wrist and fed my some of his blood. Talk about really fast healing. When I woke up this morning all that seemed left were my really awesome black eyes and that cheap feeling you get after about eight mobster vampires feel up your ass.  I am glad I sat them on fire and wrecked their cars. We are back on the case.

It turns out that they were a
ble to tow the Jag and when they looked at the trunk the carpet had blood stains on it from multiple sources. It would take a couple of days for analysis but if it was human Demetri would have some explaining to do. Big time. There were also scratches on the interior of the trunk that would be consistent with human fingernails. Not a pride of lions after all.

I am more than surprised that this case has not been taken away from the Odd Squad or that I haven’t been removed from it. Usually after the initial determinations are made I am sent on my way. I guess the fact that I was actually a victim is what is keeping me on board.  This may be the first time I have ever had the chance to see an investigation all the way though. I am growing up.

The cabbie whose name and ID I gave Trevor had been found dead. Drained with a broken neck. They could have just made it grand theft auto but instead they killed him and now looking at capital murder. Fucking idiots, no one will look for a stolen cab but we will have shit tons of resource looking for a capital murderer who kidnapped a police officer.