The Nightlife: Las Vegas (The Nightlife Series) (19 page)

He’s out in the desert with nowhere to hide from the
sun!  He’s toast!

Oso dialed up Demarco’s cell and explained it all to him.

Demarco sounded curt, pissed off.  “I’m calling Miguel right
now.  He’s gotta go back out there and light that kid on fire.  I’m not takin’
any chances with these fuckin vampires!”

“That’s a real good idea, Essay.  
Ten cuidado
con esa madre.” 
Oso agreed.

* * * *

Demarco had a sickening feeling in his gut.  His life had headed
into a seemingly inescapable downward spiral.  Oso had thrown him quite a loop
with the news about Aaron.  He was slipping, should’ve figured it out for
himself. 
How easy is it to kill a vampire?

And what if Michelle finds out they’d killed Aaron?  They’d
be dead meat for sure.

Kramer called again.   He’d already left three voicemails
and two text messages. 
I’m gonna have to call this SOB
.  He finally
called him back at three in the afternoon, as he walked in the door to Caesar’s
Palace to meet Oso.

“Hey what’s up?  I’m really busy right now.  I don’t have time
to talk.  Make it quick!”

* * * *

Demarco spoke too abruptly, much more so than usual.  Kramer
could tell immediately something was very wrong.  Demarco never lost his cool
like this.  His rudeness was out of character.

“What’s the status with Aaron and Michelle?  Did everything
go as planned?  I expected you to call last night.”  His cool voice became a
little more terse than usual.  “Did you get my message about tonight?  We’re a
go with JC at ten o-clock.  He’s on his way to Vegas now.”

He let Demarco’s rudeness slip this once, hoping they had
accomplished their mutual objectives.  What he most wanted at the moment was
another round with Michelle, but he hoped for a more submissive and
controllable Michelle, hooked on heroin.

“Listen man … that woman is really something else.  You
wouldn’t believe it if I told you.  I can’t go into details right now, but I’ll
say this, she likes the china white!”

He winced at Demarco’s slip of the tongue over the insecure
cellular lines.  Demarco didn’t even seem to notice his mistake.

“I guarantee she’ll be faded when she wakes up.  That’s for
damn sure!”  Demarco laughed snidely.  “Don’t worry about the kid, he’s been
taken care of, and we’ll be ready for tonight’s meeting.  No problem.”

Demarco’s tone of voice told a different tale.  They had a
problem.  Demarco was trying to hide that problem.

“Okay … good to hear.  So, when should I expect to meet up
with our golden girl?”  He couldn’t hide his anticipation any better than
Demarco could hide his anxiety.

“Ahh …. well … she’s not quite there yet.  It’s too soon. 
Give me another night and we’ll see where she stands.  I’ll touch base with you
on that later.  Okay?”

No surprise there. 
What is he not telling me?
 
“Alright, I guess I can live with that.” 
It’s not like he gave me any
choice.

“Hey, you’ll have to forgive me if I’m being rude.  I’ve got
a lot on my plate right now, and … last night was pretty wild.  I didn’t get
any sleep.  I’ll catch up with you tonight.” 
An apology from Demarco? 
Something is definitely wrong.

“I guess I’ll trust your judgment.  We’ll talk tonight.” He
hung up the phone, a funky feeling settling in his gut.  He hoped whatever the
problem, it wouldn’t interfere in tonight’s business.

* * * *

Anastasia arose to Michelle’s naked embrace.  She slept in
later than usual.  It had been a rough night.  She smiled. 
I’m starting to
match their schedules
.  The comfort of being held so lovingly felt nice and
cozy, but Michelle’s embrace couldn’t erase her pounding headache and parched thirst. 
Her mouth tasted horrid.  She could only imagine how bad her breath must be.

She fell out of bed, her head hammering with the jarring
impact.  She staggered to the kitchen and chugged down a quart of milk.  She
devoured Demarco’s cottage cheese and topped it off with buttered toast.  With
a little sustenance she began to feel better, but the withdrawals started
kicking in hard.  Her bones ached, and she felt magnetically drawn back to
Michelle.

It seemed worse than the previous two nights.  She was
struck with the conviction that she would die from this addiction very soon. 
Her heart filled with melancholy depression from the surety her time on this
earth was limited.

She missed Aaron so much it hurt.  Beyond his bite, she
needed him here.  She could never be whole without him.  His absence left a
soul deep emptiness.  If he didn’t return soon, she didn’t know how she’d
survive the night.

She didn’t consider herself religious, but she’d been raised
with the basic tenets of Christianity.  The moment felt right for prayer.

“Dear God, please bring Aaron back to me.  I just need a
little more time with him before it’s over.  Please, please, please bring him
back to me.”

She hit paydirt while digging through Demarco’s medicine
cabinet in the bathroom off the master bedroom.  Oxycontin. 
Maybe there is
a god
.  She popped three without a second’s hesitation. 
If that doesn’t
do it nothing will
.

She vaguely recalled a wet-bar outside by the hot tub. 
That’s
the ticket, a stiff drink.
  As she cracked open the unopened bottle of
Patron tequila, she smiled. 
Yep, there definitely is a god. 
Fixing
herself a double tequila with Squirt, she settled into the hot tub to let the
wonderful bubbles, drug, and drink work their magic.  After finishing off another
double mixer and feeling no pain, she wandered back to check on Michelle.  Her
golden haired lover looked so inviting, naked, out cold, vulnerable.  She
crawled into bed to hug Michelle tightly. 
Just might make it through
another night without Aaron.  Oxy’s and liquor pack a nice punch.

* * * *

Oso and Demarco returned home just before sunset carrying a
kilo of heroin, all Michelle’s luggage, and an armful of groceries.  They both
raided the medicine cabinet for another dose of Oxy’s.  It was the only thing
that seemed to help.  Oso sat down to fix himself a sandwich and stuff his
face.

Demarco checked on his house guests who slept soundly in his
king-sized, hand-carved mahogany four-poster bed.  The sexy little black-haired
tramp was butt-ass naked wrapped around the nude vampire.  One of the most
provocative sights he’d ever seen.  His cock strained against his pants as he
stood there committing this picture to memory.

Time to get to work
.  He cooked up ten shots of china
white and set them aside.  Eight hundred dollars of product when cut and sold
on the streets of Chicago.
  The bitch would probably blow through it before
the night was over. 
She had a hundred dollar an hour habit.  He shook his
head at the ridiculousness of his predicament.  Here he was giving away stupid
amounts of heroin to a creature that had no concept of its value or how many
years in prison he might do if caught with it in his possession.  He’d actually
stabbed a guy over this much product.  This new life was going to be a hard
adjustment.

“Oso, cook up the stir-fry for me would ya?  And make enough
for the puta.”  Sitting at the kitchen counter watching Oso do his thing, he
fantasized about the evening to come. 
I’m gonna get a piece of that girl. 
What was her name … Ana.  I’m gonna watch her swallow
.

Then he remembered,
Miguel
.  “Shit!  Oso, did Miguel
ever call you back?”

“No Essay, he’s probably on his way back now.  Call him.  I
got my hands full.”

Five rings and Miguel’s voicemail kicked in.  He must be out
of the area still. 
It’s a cellular dead zone up north… Isn’t it?
 
I
hope that’s all it is
.

“Here, I got a feeling we might need these.”  Demarco pulled
out both loaded pistols from a zipper pouch and handed one to Oso.

* * * *

Miguel spent the entire afternoon hiking through the desert
looking for that punk ass gringo.  They popped him with a wicked ass cocktail. 
No way the gringo survived.  Even if he did, he’d still be out cold.

He found Camacho’s body easy enough, right where he dumped
it early this morning.  It looked like it had been chewed on by desert
scavengers. 
Little buggers don’t waste no time taking advantage of a free
meal
.

So where the hell is the gringo? 
No bones, no blood,
no clothing.  His leg and hip throbbed with the nasty bruise Aaron left him as
a parting gift.  Limping around out in the hot sun was not his idea of fun.  He
resorted to yelling across the empty desert.

“Hey gringo, come out and play!  Where the fuck are you! 
God damnit, where the fuck are you puto!”

Demarco’s gonna be pissed as hell if I don’t find this
puto.
  The newest of Demarco’s little troupe, Miguel was still trying to
prove himself and earn his pay.  He definitely didn’t want to end up like
Camacho, a chewed up carcass left in the desert to rot.  He never did get a
decent answer out of Oso about what had happened to Camacho.  That bugged him.

This job was pretty
cush
.  Most days he didn’t have
to do anything more than stand around and look intimidating.  His menacing size
usually sent the intended message.

When Demarco asked if he minded torching the gringo’s body,
he shrugged it off.  “Just a little barbecue!”  But marching through the desert
to find a dead man sucked big time.

Twilight hit, and still no sign of the gringo. 
Ain’t
gettin nowhere in the dark.
  He headed back to the Tahoe. 
Gonna have to
hit the carwash.  This thing is covered in dust
.  He recalled how clean
Demarco like his vehicles as he drove back towards the highway.

He hoped maybe he’d get lucky and run across the gringo
making his way to the highway.  He imagined the look on the kid’s face as he
begged for a ride.  He smiled at the thought of blasting the punk point blank
in the face with a nine millimeter hollow point slug. 
That’s what they
shoulda done to begin with, no fucking around.  If you want to get the job
done, do it right the first time.

* * * *

Chapter 19

Aaron awoke entombed in dirt.  The taste and smell of it
coated his mouth and throat.  He was so parched with thirst, the dead sage
brush next to his hidey hole held more moisture than his mouth.  He heard the
sound of an approaching vehicle.  His wide smile cracked dry lips. 
How
convenient, dinner delivered
with perfect timing
.

The predator skimmed the edge of his consciousness, a shark
whose dorsal fin cut through the surface of the water just before striking.  He
could barely keep a grip on the animalistic feeding impulse urging him to
attack the moving vehicle.  He took position at the high point atop the hill,
overlooking the path of the oncoming black Chevy Tahoe.

When the predator identified the man behind the wheel of the
black SUV, Aaron lost all restraint.  He streaked down the hillside, a raging
blur of lethality.  He leaped straight through the driver’s side window, blasting
through the glass.  He smashed into Miguel, displacing him to the passenger
side, flowing out the passenger window together.  Their momentum continued as they
flew another fifteen feet to land in a tussle on the desert floor.  The
predator tore out a chunk of Miguel’s throat and drained him dry.

Miguel’s final thoughts as he died were that his mother was
right.  She had threatened he’d go to hell for leading a life of sin.  He
thought of how smug her face would look when she found out her predictions came
true.  He’d been laughing her off for years.

The predator reveled in his feast, drinking his fill,
draining every last ounce.  As he sated his intense thirst, Aaron regained some
measure of self-control, shoving the predator back into its cage. 
Time to
go
.

The Tahoe had stalled out.  It waited in a pile of dead
brush, an invitation to catch a free ride back to Vegas.

* * * *

“She’s feels cold.  Maybe she’s dead Essay.”  Oso slid his
hand up Michelle’s naked thigh.

“You into that kinda thing?”  Demarco snickered at him.

“Callate guey.  I ain’t gonna get it up for a week.  My shit
hurts.”

Demarco snickered again and then stared intently at Michelle. 
“Ima give it to her anyway.  The sun’s setting right now.  I ain’t takin no
chances.  You know what.  Ima give her two shots.  I think she already got a
tolerance for this shit.  Fuckin vampires.”  He shook his head.

* * * *

Michelle awoke to rapturous euphoria screaming through every
vein in her body.  She roared with the joy of it.  Her back arched up off the
bed as she wet herself in a multiple orgasm.  Panting and grunting through her
release, she looked up to Demarco and Oso’s lecherous smiles of anticipation. 
They stared at her and Ana, who slept cuddled up against her.  Through a blurry
haze she saw their auras swirled with extreme anxiety and a taint of lust. 
Demarco held two syringes in hand.  She could smell it from there, heroin.

One last grunting shudder, and she curled around her
beautiful, nude pet, reaching between Ana’s legs to find her warm, wet, and
inviting.  She cared not for the men.  They wanted her, her bite, but she
wanted Ana.

 “We need you Michelle, please don’t make us wait any
longer!  Please?”  Demarco’s voice cracked as he spoke.

They’d been awake most of the day, over ten hours without
her venom.  It had driven them to the edge of sanity.  She smelled the drug oozing
out their pores.  They were high on something, using it to fight off their
withdrawals.  Demarco came to her, running his hands up her thighs, up between
her legs.  He slipped two thick warm fingers up in, working all her juicy
wetness.  He swam through her cloudy vision to appear right in her face as he stroked
her.