Vampire for Hire (24 page)

 
      
 
But my blood of choice—or of necessity—comes from a butchery in nearby Norco, where I had a running account with them. Once a week they delivered the stuff to my door, no questions asked, although they believed it was for scientific purposes. The blood was often filled with fur and skin and other
floaties
that I couldn’t quite place. Didn’t
want
to place. It was utterly disgusting, but it nourished me and no doubt kept me alive.

 
      
 
This blood was different. This blood was heavenly. This blood, I was certain, was from a human. There were no impurities in it. It was silky smooth and fresh and filled with a life force that absolutely electrified me.

 
      
 
“Thirsty?” asked Kingsley.

 
      
 
I opened my eyes. I found myself staring into the empty goblet, whose interior was coated now with a thin film of blood.

 
      
 
“Very,” I said. “Would you think less of me if I licked the inside?”

 
      
 
“Waste not, want not, I say.”

 
      
 
I ran my tongue inside, licking hungrily, and only then did I realize how ghoulish I looked. “Did that look as ghoulish as I think it did?” I asked.

 
      
 
He grinned. “Worse.”

 
      
 
“Great.” But that didn’t stop me from using my index finger to swipe at the last few drops of blood.

 
      
 
Kingsley watched me with a bemused expression. He was wearing a robe and not much else. His legs were hairy as hell, but also roped with muscle. His toes, I saw, were extraordinarily long. And hairy, too. He wiggled them at me when he saw me looking at them. They looked like ten frightened mice.

 
      
 
“I’m getting more and more used to drinking blood,” I said.

 
      
 
“It was bound to happen.”

 
      
 
“I mean, I’ll always hate the animal blood, but this human blood was nearly orgasmic.”

 
      
 
“Do you feel stronger?”

 
      
 
“In every way, but it’s late, or early, and I feel myself getting tired.”

 
      
 
“No worries. The blood will more than sustain you for a few days. Much more so than that polluted pig and cow crap you drink.”

 
      
 
I had experienced this before. Human blood revitalized me unlike anything else. So much so that I realized that I was
meant
to drink human blood. I was meant—designed—to kill humans.

 
      
 
“So whose blood is this?” I asked.

 
      
 
“Do you really want to know?”

 
      
 
“No. Yes. Shit.”

 
      
 
Kingsley got up, and as he did so, he flashed me the goods. Whether he meant to or not, I don’t know...but holy sweet Jesus. Did I really just see that? My God, how did he walk around with that thing?

 
      
 
Kingsley, defense attorney, werewolf—and now, apparently,
pervert—
sat next to me and gave no indication that he had just given me the mother of all peep shows.

 
      
 
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret,” he said, and knocked back the rest of his wine like it was booze-flavored
Kool
-Aide.

 
      
 
“It’s not a secret,” I said. “And it ain’t little.”

 
      
 
“Excuse me?”

 
      
 
“Never mind.”

 
      
 
But I caught the smallest of shit-eating grins on his face.

 
      
 
“Go on,” I said, shaking my head. “And this time try to keep the robe closed.”

 
      
 
“I do my best to keep it closed.”

 
      
 
I patted his meaty knee. “Well, do better, big boy. Now, what is it that’s such a big secret?”

 
      
 
He sat back, but this time he kept the robe closed well enough. “The blood is from a donor, Sam.”

 
      
 
“A donor?”

 
      
 
He nodded.

 
      
 
“A willing donor?” I prodded.

 
      
 
“Willing enough,” he said.

 
      
 
“I don’t like the sound of that.”

 
      
 
“It’s not as bad as it seems.”

 
      
 
“But it’s still bad?”

 
      
 
“Gruesome, perhaps. Macabre.”

 
      
 
“Perhaps you should just tell me what you know.”

 
      
 
“There’s a world of vampires out there, Sam, that you haven’t been introduced to yet. At least, I don’t think you have.”

 
      
 
I thought back to Detective
Hanner
. Whether or not she was a vampire, I didn’t know, and I most certainly hadn’t been officially introduced to other vampires.

 
      
 
The defense attorney went on. “You’re not the only one of your kind, Sam, and the vampire who attacked you wasn’t the last.”

 
      
 
Knowing this set off alarm bells within me. I didn’t like knowing there were others like me, truth be known. I knew
me
. And I trusted me. I didn’t trust others. “How many more are there?” I asked.

 
      
 
“Not many; in fact, very few.”

 
      
 
“Are we talking thousands?”

 
      
 
“Hundreds, perhaps. Scattered around the world.”

 
      
 
And yet there were two in Fullerton, I mused, but didn’t say anything. The one who had attacked me (and was subsequently killed by a vampire hunter a few months back...the same hunter who later came looking for me), and now perhaps Detective
Hanner
. If you add me into the mix, that’s three in Orange County alone. Hell, three in Fullerton alone.

 
      
 
Kingsley went on: “There’s a larger than normal grouping of vamps here in Southern California; particularly Los Angeles.”

 
      
 
“I might have met one.”

 
      
 
“Who?”

 
      
 
I hesitated, wondering if I might be giving away Detective
Hanner’s
secret. After all, I wasn’t sure if there couldn’t be some weird, age-old vampire/werewolf feud going on. (And if there was, why hadn’t I gotten the memo?)

 
      
 
Kingsley reached over and laid his warm hand on my knee. I inwardly sighed. I craved warmth. And other than the snuggling hugs of my kids, the warmth from a man was the next best.

 
      
 
He said, “Don’t worry, Sam. Many of the local vampires are friends of mine.”

 
      
 
“Friends?”

 
      
 
“Close acquaintances. We sort of naturally gravitate to each other.”

 
      
 
“And there’s no, like, war or something going on?”

 
      
 
He chuckled. “War?”

 
      
 
“You know, like on
Twilight
or
Underworld
.”

 
      
 
He squeezed my knee a little. “And what would we be fighting over?”

 
      
 
“Dominion over the earth? The blood of humanity?”

 
      
 
“There are others who control the earth, Sam, and they are very human. And, hell, even I’m afraid of them.”

 
      
 
I told him about the Fullerton detective. As I did, Kingsley nodded and smiled. “An old friend.”

 
      
 
“How old?”

 
      
 
“Older than you and I combined. Anyway,
Hanner
, like other immortals, have taken precautions to discreetly blend in with society.”

 
      
 
“So they don’t run around killing people.”

 
      
 
“Not as often as you would think.”

 
      
 
I said, “And that’s where the donors come in.”

 
      
 
“Right.”

 
      
 
“And who are these donors?” I asked.

 
      
 
“Selected humans.”

 
      
 
“And how are they selected?”

 
      
 
“Most are lovers. Some are enemies. And a few are simply unfortunate enough to have crossed paths with a hungry vampire.”

 
      
 
“Do these donors know they are donating to real vampires?”

 
      
 
“My guess would be yes and no. Perhaps a few of the more trusted ones do.”