Try Me (20 page)

"Do you know anything about the poisoning going on at the blood banks?” Dan asked harshly.

"No . . . no! I don't go near those places."

I nodded at Dan. He was telling the truth.

"How about your bloodsucking friends?” Dan pressed. “Any of them know anything?"

"I-I don't have any vampire friends."

Strange, he was still telling the truth. I told Dan so. Dan looked exasperated, but asked, “Any clue whatsoever where we might find some unaffiliated vamps who might know something?"

The guy thought hard. “I've heard some rumors about a bar downtown where a group of vampires hang out in a private room, but that's all."

"Not part of the New Blood Movement?” Dan asked.

"No,” the girl said and pulled her arm from Dan's grasp. “They sound like a bunch of poseurs. We avoid them but they hang at Club Gothique downtown."

"Okay, thanks,” I said. “You can go now."

Giving us dirty looks over their shoulders, they hurried off to play their game somewhere else.

We couldn't afford not to check it out. Dan drove to the bar and as we got out of the truck, I glanced at the Club Gothique sign, the dark red script written in a blood-dripping horror movie font. “Are they for real?” I asked incredulously.

He shrugged. “Maybe they figure hiding in plain sight is the way to go."

Dogs weren't welcome in most places that served food, so we left Fang outside. We entered the darkened bar, sullenly lit with red lights spaced along the walls. A live band played loud heavy metal music on the far end of the bar, and the denizens wore black, black, and more black, with touches of stark white, purple, dark red, and the glint of metal from multiple body piercings.

We didn't exactly fit in, as the hostile looks of the patrons testified.

Dan leaned down to shout in my ear so he could be heard over the music. “Sense any vamps here?"

I shook my head. “But that doesn't mean they aren't here.” We'd have to find that private room.

Dan gestured with his head toward the bar. As we reached it, the band came to a crashing, screeching halt and announced they were taking a break. Thank God. My ears were ringing.

The bartender looked almost normal, with minimal body piercings and no black lipstick or make-up. Dan smiled and asked for the private party.

The bartender quirked a smile. “Sorry, it's by invitation only."

Dan flashed his badge. “Will this do?"

The barkeep's expression turned wary. “Hey, I don't want any trouble."

"And you won't get any, if you cooperate. We only want to ask them a few questions."

The man shrugged. “Hey, no skin off my nose. I just work here.” He nodded toward a door at the opposite end of the bar from the band. “It's not locked. Go right in."

Dan glanced at me as we headed for the private room. “You ready for this?"

"Yeah. Let's do it."

Dan tensed then nodded to me and flung open the door.

I'd tensed up, too, but nothing attacked. A bunch of people, mostly in the eighteen to twenty-five age range, lay sprawled on red velvet sofas around the room, smoking, necking, and doing a variety of other things Lola was rather interested in, but I wasn't.

"Hey,” one young man said. “Who invited you?"

Dan closed the door behind us, ignoring the question. “We're looking for vampires. Any here?"

The crowd parted to reveal a Morticia Addams look-alike, dramatically dressed in a black skintight dress trailing cobwebby fringe. She stepped from the back of the room, stood hipshot with her hands on her tiny waist, and opened her mouth in a snarl to reveal her “fangs."

Oh, spare me. “Filing your eyeteeth to points doesn't make you a vampire.” Just sick.

"You're right,” Morticia said with an annoyed smile. “But drinking blood does.” She wiped a drop of something nonexistent from the corner of her blood-red lips.

Dan grinned. I had to agree. It was so . . . hokey. I couldn't imagine any real vampire wearing such constricting clothing. Not if they wanted to move fast.

"Any real vampires here?” Dan asked.

Morticia actually hissed. “Come closer and you'll find out."

I had to laugh. “Nice try. But you're nothing but a cliche."

Her eyes narrowed, but before she could say anything, one of her girlfriends interrupted, pointing at me. “I know you—you're that vampire killer who was at the rally on the Day of the Dead."

Morticia backed up a step, fear flashing in her eyes.

If there were any real vamps in the room, they would have either bolted toward me or away from me by now. Instead, they cringed back in alarm. I turned around and opened the door. “Don't worry, I only hunt real vamps. Not kiddie wannabes.” On that note, we left the room and closed the door behind us.

Dan grinned at me. “Great exit line."

Three thumps hit the door one after the other, followed closely by the sound of shattering glass.

I shrugged. “Guess they don't think so.” Crap. This whole night was a bust.

We got into the truck but before we could decide what to do next, Dan had a phone call. After he hung up, he said, “That was Ramirez. There's been a possible burglary."

"What? There are so few vamps cruising that we've been reduced to checking out burglaries?"

"It's your parent's store. There's been a break-in."

[Back to Table of Contents]

Fear thrilled through me. “Was anyone hurt?” I demanded.

Dan shook his head and started the truck. “No one was there. But the fire alarm went off.” He peeled off onto the road.

"Fire? There was fire?"

"I don't know. Calm down, Val. You'll see for yourself in a few minutes."

A few minutes? It felt like hours of worry and fear until we finally got to Astral Reflections. I barely waited for the truck to stop until I was out the door. Everything looked okay on the outside of the old two-story wooden building, and the fire trucks were just pulling away. Mom stood in the doorway watching them leave, hugging herself and looking shell-shocked and angry.

I came to a stop in front of her, not sure whether to hug her or not. So I stood there, feeling awkward. “What happened?"

Wordlessly, she stepped aside and gestured inside at the store. I gasped. It was totally trashed. Shelves were tipped over and books were strewn everywhere, with ripped pages scattered across the mess. Candles were broken, and delicate figurines that used to depict fairy, unicorn, and other fantasy creatures were smashed and lay in glittering shards everywhere. Rick stood in the middle of it, looking around helplessly as if he didn't know what to do or where to start.

"Careful,” I told Fang. I didn't want him to hurt his paws on the broken pieces.

The terrier stopped at the door. I'LL WAIT OUTSIDE. YOU DON'T NEED MY HELP HERE.

Dan appeared at the door and took the situation in at a glance. “Have you called the police?"

Rick shook his head. “Just the SCU."

"Why the Special Crimes Unit?” Dan asked. “Do you think this was done by a vampire?"

"Maybe.” Rick nodded at the counter. “See for yourself."

Dan and I crunched our way over to the counter, trying to avoid as many shards as possible. There, scrawled on the counter in large red block letters, it said, “Suffer the consequences, Slayer."

All the blood rushed from my head. Light-headed, I reached out to steady myself on the counter. “Is that blood?"

Dan leaned over and sniffed. “No, just a large marker of some kind."

"They attacked my family,” I said incredulously.

"Indirectly,” Dan said soothingly. “It doesn't look like anyone's hurt."

Not physically, maybe, but Mom and Rick both looked totally devastated. This store was their life. I turned a remorseful expression to Rick. “I'm so sorry—"

Rick enveloped me in a hug. “Not your fault, sweetheart."

Mom didn't say anything. What did her silence mean? That it was all my fault, that if it weren't for me, the store they loved wouldn't look like the “after” scene from a tornado? Unfortunately, it might be true. If I had backed down when I got the first note, this wouldn't have happened.

Rick squeezed me once more then released me. “We'll be okay. We have insurance."

But he didn't mention the fact that they'd also lose money while the store was closed for clean-up. And the height of the shopping season was coming up soon. “Can you open again after Thanksgiving?” It was only a couple of days away . . . and I still hadn't invited Shade yet. Guess I needed to do that soon.

"Sure, sure. Between your mother, me, Jen, and Joshua, we should get ready in no time. Besides, they didn't touch the new merchandise in the back that just came in. We'll be fine."

He started to pull out a chair, but Dan said, “Please try not to touch anything else. The SCU forensics unit should be here soon to see what they can find."

We exited just as the team drove up. The leader, a no-nonsense older woman with the name “Mahoney” embroidered on her police jacket, took charge. “What happened here?” she asked Dan.

"Looks like vandalism targeted at a member of the SCU, or possibly burglary.” He nodded at Mom and Rick. “These are the Andersons, the owners of the store."

Mahoney nodded and gave swift instructions to her crew. As they headed in, she asked, “Is anything missing?"

Rick put an arm around Mom and spoke for both of them. “Not that we know of, but we haven't had a chance to look at everything."

She nodded. “Why the SCU? You suspect something out of the ordinary?"

Dan explained my involvement and the message scrawled on the counter. Mahoney looked thoughtful. “It's two o'clock in the morning. How did you know this happened?"

"The fire alarm went off, and the fire department notified us,” Rick said. “But there was no fire—the vandal must have pulled the fire alarm himself."

Mahoney took a moment to tell her team to check the alarm for fingerprints, then asked, “Any idea how he got in?"

Rick's mouth twisted in a grimace. “The back door was broken in. He must have come in that way."

The policewoman glanced inside. “Your store is open to the public, so fingerprints may not tell us much. And given the nature of your merchandise, it wouldn't be unusual to find signs of nonhumans about. Our best bet is the door they broke into and the fire alarm itself. Any idea who did it?"

Dan shrugged. “We'll work the angle of who has a grudge against Val."

Unfortunately, that list was rather long. Damn it, I should have stopped when I got the first warning. I had no idea they'd come after my family.

Fang leaned up against me. IT'S NOT YOUR FAULT, VAL. IT'S THE FAULT OF THE LOW LIFE WHO DID THIS.

I squatted down to give him a hug. Thanks, but if it hadn't been for me, this never would have happened.

YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT, Fang said with a nudge. I'M GONNA CHECK THE SMELLS AROUND BACK.

As he trotted off, Dan drew me away from where Mahoney was talking to Mom and Rick. “Rick's right. It's not your fault."

I blinked back sudden tears. Anger and disgust were a lot easier to take than unexpected kindness. “That's what Fang said, too.” But I wasn't sure I believed it.

"Do you think they were looking for the books here?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"So what are you going to do?"

I rubbed my temples, trying to ease the sudden throbbing headache this whole situation had given me. “I don't know.” If I did nothing, more people could be injured . . . and by more than the thief. If we didn't find the culprit soon, the unresolved tension between the vamps and demons could escalate into a war. And if I continued trying to find the culprit, my family would be in more danger—the thief had proven he knew right where to hurt me. “It's a no-win situation."

"Okay, what do you want to do? Give up?"

The thought of doing that sent rage sweeping through me. “Hell, no. I want to catch the rat bastard who did this and hang him up by his cojones."

Dan winced at the thought. “Why don't you leave me to do the investigating?"

"And I should do what? Take up knitting?” Maybe Fang would like a nice knitted sweater and cap for the upcoming winter.

MAYBE NOT, Fang said with disgust as he came trotting up.

Just kidding, I assured him. I didn't think I could sit still that long. “Find anything back there?” I asked aloud.

NOPE. TOO MANY FEET MUDDIED THE SCENTS. THE PLACE STINKS OF THE BOOTIES THOSE SO-CALLED FORENSIC DUDES WEAR.

Well, they probably didn't have a forensic test for scents. At Dan's questioning look, I shook my head. “He didn't find anything."

"I'm not suggesting you take up knitting,” Dan said. “But take some time off. You probably need it after everything that's happened lately. I'll talk to Ramirez, but I know he'll agree."

"And what about you? What if this psycho starts targeting you and your family? Like Gwen?"

"All the more reason you should stay home, so you can protect her."

"Are you suggesting we set ourselves up as bait?"

He looked taken aback. “No, that's not what I meant at all."

"Good.” I wasn't worried about myself, but Gwen was another matter entirely. The thought of putting another friend in danger made me feel helpless and angry. I sighed. He was right. Staying home and twiddling my thumbs was probably the best thing for everyone. “Okay, I'll do it.” I just hoped we'd find the culprit soon, or I wouldn't be able to vouch for my sanity.

I glared at Fang. And no comments from you.

He gazed at the sky, trying to look innocent. NOTHING HERE. NOPE, NOT A WORD.

"Good,” Dan said, looking relieved. “I'll come by tomorrow, check to see how you're doing."

"Why are you being so helpful?"

He shrugged. “Because until this is resolved, you and Gwen are in danger. And I want to prove to your friends that I didn't take the books."

Good enough. “Okay. Shall we go?"

He nodded and I headed back toward Mom and Rick. Mom was leaning against her husband, their arms around each others’ waists and her head on his shoulder as they gazed at the destruction.

"Rick?” I asked gently. “Is there anything we can do?"