I tried my best to hide the look of surprise on my face, hoping she didn’t notice it. I ended up covering with a cough. Okay, so not the smoothest move exactly, but better than looking like a deer in the headlights when you’ve got this kind of woman amped and ready to go. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t usually have a hard time sweet talking the girls into bed; it’s part of that natural vampire charm. I generally find that my winning smile and decades of practice are enough to get most ladies back to my room. But I can count on one fang the number of times a girl’s just gone ahead and taken the lead.
Hell, you don’t have to ask me twice.
“I was just thinking the very same thing,” I said. She flashed a smile at me that made it look as if she wanted to eat me. Truth be told, I had no problem with that. We headed towards the elevators, and I quickly grabbed a couple of jack-and-cokes off of a passing waitresses’s tray. “Hey!” she protested, but by the time she could turn around, I had already gulped both of them down. I suppose I could have gotten one for the girl, but listen, this chick didn’t need my help getting free drinks.
We stepped into the elevator, and for a moment I thought it was going to be just the two of us. Then a frumpy pair of tourists — you know, bifocals, fanny pack, wad of singles in their hands — managed to squeeze in at the last moment. They hit the button for floor 14, while Raven punched the button for the top floor. “Penthouse suite?” I asked. “Nothing but the best,” she replied.
As the elevator started moving up, Raven turned to me, wrapped one leg around my waist, and planted a kiss on me that would have probably killed a normal man. Her tongue slipped in my mouth, and a soft moan escaped her lips. Her hands started to wander. George and Florence Fannypack looked at us in obvious shock and moved as far against the opposite wall of the elevator as they could. Actually, Florence looked shocked, George looked… jealous, maybe? As Raven moved her lips down to my neck, I flashed him my best fanged grin, and he quickly looked away. Sometimes, you just gotta flash the pearly whites, you know?
George and Florence’s stop couldn’t come fast enough. They hurried off the elevator to watch Wheel of Fortune or whatever, and we kicked things into overdrive. Raven wrapped her other leg against me, and I picked her up and leaned her against the elevator wall. Just as things were really starting to get interesting (I swear she had three hands), the elevator signal dinged. We had arrived at the top floor. Damn those speedy Vegas elevators. In Reno, this trip would have taken at least four minutes.
She grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the double doors at the end of a short hallway. They were the only doors on the floor, and she had the key in her hand. Where it had come from, I had no idea. She slid it into the electronic lock, threw open the door, pulled me in, and dragged me to the floor. This was my kind of girl. Why waste time, right?
I sat upright to take off my shirt, and that’s when my world went black.
Chapter 5
When I came to, I was sitting in the aforementioned warehouse, chained to a concrete support post, surround by the goons I mentioned earlier. What I was doing there, I had no idea. As far as I knew, I didn’t have any enemies, and I didn’t owe anybody any money. I mean, honestly, waking up chained to a pillar isn’t really all that uncommon in Vegas; it just didn’t usually happen to me.
The chains were heavy steel, and they were wrapped around me a few times, with my hands bound in loops of the metal. They also weren’t that big of a deal. Chains aren’t really a big problem for a vampires; we’re pretty damn strong. I’d broken out of stronger bonds than these before. I started to flex. As I did, however, I heard a scream of pain behind me. What the hell?
“Stop! Please!” It was Raven. Dammit. These guys were smart. I could break the chains, sure, but not without turning her into human puree. “Raven? Are you okay?” I asked. “I… I think so,” she said. “Wh-what’s going on? Where are we?” Her voice was on the verge of panic. I needed to calm her down before she freaked out. “Listen, I need you to trust me, okay? I’ve been in situations like this before, and I promise you, you have nothing to worry about. Okay?” “O-okay,” she stammered, not sounding the least bit convinced. But her breathing started to slow down a little, so at least I didn’t have to worry about the chick hyperventilating on me.
“Hey, buddy, you got the time?” I asked the nearest goon. No answer. “Oh, come on, the silent treatment? Really? Listen… what is it, Tony? Mikey? Vinnie?” On that last one, he glanced at me, and I knew I got it. “Okay, Vinnie. Can you at least tell me where we are?” Still no answer. “How about why I’m here?” Nothing. “How about the square root of 36?” Nada. Not that I expected him to know that one; he didn’t exactly look like the brainy type, you know what I mean?
I looked around, taking in my surroundings. It was your typical warehouse: dank, dusty, dark, dirty, and plenty of other words that start with ‘d.’ It was also empty. As far as I could see, the only things in it besides me were Raven, Vinnie, and three other guys of the hired muscle variety. They were sitting on a couple of random crates, but other than that, this warehouse wasn’t actually housing any wares.
Just as I was about to try striking up a conversation with Vinnie again, a rolling door on the side of the building started to retract, making a horrible screeching noise as it did. A black limousine slowly pulled in and drove the 30 yards to where we were, stopping just a few feet away. Another hired muscle guy stepped out of the driver’s door and walked back to the passenger door, opening it. Out stepped a slight man wearing a crisp grey suit and a snazzy little fedora hat. As he stepped into the light, I got a better look at his face: Wallace Brigham. One of the most notorious and dangerous gangsters in Vegas.
Well, shit.
Chapter 6
Three months ago
Las Vegas, NV
Now, I gave up the cat burglar thing years ago. But I still do a little “consulting” work on the side. And by consulting, I generally mean breaking into places. I don’t steal much for personal gain anymore; it’s more like corporate espionage or political dealings. I work almost exclusively for the vamps who are in power in Las Vegas. I like to stay on the good side of the people that can make life a lot more difficult for me if they want to.
And, you know, it’s great to make a ton of extra money under the table, but it’s a real nightmare for tax purposes. Yep, there are a lot of perks to being immortal, but avoiding taxes isn’t one of them. So I have a consulting business that I run that functions as a sort of tax haven for all my various moneymaking activities. I generally lead a pretty straight life these days, but when a fellow vamp in Vegas needs something taken care of that might need to stay off the books, they call me. As it is, I’m a pretty connected guy. I get the info that nobody else can get.
A few months ago, I was hired by Alan Sturbridge, a prominent vampire businessman in Vegas. He wanted me to break into Wallace Brigham’s offices and look for evidence that Brigham was involved in the murder of Sturbridge’s cousin. His cousin was a land developer who had gone missing last year, and Sturbridge was convinced that Brigham had something to do with it. I had no idea what I was looking for, and frankly, neither did Sturbridge, but I took the gig because I never say no to a fellow vamp in need. Besides, everyone knows that Brigham is a real bad guy. He’s known as one of the more vicious mobsters on the scene, and even though the police have tried to bring him down for years, he’s too well connected and too well paid-up to ever see the inside of a jail.
So one night when Brigham was at a well-publicized charity event, I broke into his office. His security measures were pretty top-notch, but I have yet to encounter the room I can’t break into without being seen. Having vampire speed and strength doesn’t hurt, but for the most part, this was simply B&E 101. I scoured his office for an hour looking for anything that would tie him to the disappearance of Sturbridge’s cousin, but I came up empty. I rifled through blueprints, files, documents, notes; I even looked
for a hidden safe, but came up empty. There was no computer to go through; Brigham must use a laptop, and besides, I’m not a hacker. I rummaged through everything in his office, but eventually had to call it quits; there was nothing there that could prove his dirty dealings.
I left everything the way it was when I came in, with one exception. There was a small golden statue on the corner of Brigham’s desk. It was a phoenix, the mythical bird that rises from its own ashes. It reminded me of Audrey for some reason, and so I pocketed it. I knew it was a stupid thing to do, but, well… once a thief, I guess. Then I slipped out of the office and left the building, completely undetected.
Or so I thought.
Chapter 7
Now, I know what you’re thinking. What kind of name is Wallace Brigham for a mobster? Shouldn’t he be Tony Montana or Bobby Corleone or something like that? From what I’ve heard, he’s half Jewish, half-Irish, zero Italian. But I’ve got news for you; in Vegas, it doesn’t matter where your family comes from. All that matters is that you’ve got the money and you know how to use it. And Brigham definitely knows how to use it. Word on the street is that he took out two rival families while he was setting up shop in Vegas. He just had them wiped out and then used his corporate muscle to quickly and quietly take over all of their holdings. He lives up to his reputation for being one of the nastiest gangsters in town: numbers, prostitution, extortion, drugs… you name it, Wallace Brigham has his fingers in it. This guy is the real deal.
So what the hell did he want with me? Did this have to do with the mess with Sturbridge’s cousin? It wasn’t like I found anything incriminating. I wracked my brains to figure out how we were connected, but I came up with nothing.
“Mr… Jarczynski,” he said. His voice was slightly higher and definitely more nasal than I would have expected. “I’ve been watching you for some time. I find your lifestyle very… interesting.”
“Hey, listen, man, I think you have me confused with somebody else. I think I’d remember meeting y—“
He stopped me with the smallest twitch of his hand, which led Vinnie the goon to hit me with a massive backhand across my face. I’m not gonna lie, it stung, but I’ve taken a hell of a lot worse. “Please don’t insult me, Mr. Jarczynski,” he said. “I know exactly who you are, and more importantly, I know what you are.” My stomach did a little dance. This guy knew I was a vampire? That couldn't be good.
“If you insist on playing the idiot, then I will speak to you like one,” he said. “Now, hold on a second—,” I started, but he shut me up with another twitch and another backhand to the face. Man, was I getting tired of that. “What I am referring to is your nocturnal lifestyle. Your… immortality.” As he said that last word, his face took on an almost wolfish shape, his leer adopting the most disturbing tone I’d ever seen in what claimed to be a smile. Let me tell you, it’s not easy to creep out a vampire. But this guy did it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking abo—,” I started, but when he raised his hand to signal Vinnie again, I quickly changed my tune. “Alright, alright, so you know I’m a vampire. That’s pretty impressive. Most humans have no clue we exist.”
That was true. Even though we feed on blood, it’s pretty easy to conceal it. First of all, we don’t need to feed very often. We’re not bloodthirsty monsters. I can get by on one meal every week or two. Second of all, our saliva has something like a healing agent in it, so we don’t leave two giant fang marks on your neck when we do drink. Jesus, how long do you think it would take people to figure out the truth about vampires if everyone we drank from had giant holes in their neck all the time?
But most importantly, the drinking process is a real trip, almost sexual in nature. Most vampires have taken to actually performing the act while in bed with someone. It creates a euphoric feeling for the person being drained that’s like an ultimate sexual high. They just assume they’re in the middle of the best orgasm ever, and then they usually pass out afterwards. When they wake up, they’re none the wiser, except most of them can’t stop smiling for a day or two afterwards. So a lot of us vamps have a few hook-ups we call every so often; we keep it noncommittal. It’s like friends with benefits, but with a little extra bang for your buck.
“Yes,” Brigham said, “Well, I am not most humans. You see, Mister Jarczynski, I am a very resourceful man. I am a man who knows how to get what he wants. When the knowledge of vampires actually existing came to my attention, I devoted my considerable resources to discovering if it was, in fact, true. And when I decide to find out the truth about something, I do. Believe it or not, you vampires aren’t half as clever as you think you are. It was relatively easy to discover the truth about you.”
I was about to reply with a sarcastic, “Oh yeah?” but then I realized this guy had me chained up in a warehouse. He probably had a point. “Okay, terrific, you know about us. What’s that got to do with me?”
“Ahh, right to the point. That’s what I like about you, Mr. Jarczynski, you are very direct. That is part of why I selected you.”
“Selected me?”
“Yes,” he smiled. “Selected you to have the distinct honor of turning me into one of you. You see, I wish to become immortal, and you are going to be the one to help me do so.”
Like hell.
Chapter 8
See, here’s the thing about turning somebody into a vampire. It’s not all that hard to do. There’s really no rhyme or reason to it, and there’s sure as hell no science to it. Generally, most vampires don’t turn people unless they think they’d be really good at being a vampire. So, sure, some of us turn people because we’re in love, or they were someone we loved before we turned, but just as often its someone you simply have a hell of a good time with. There’s really not a lot of drama in the vampire community. There’s also not a lot of truly bad guys. We’re pretty good judges of characters, and so it’s rare we turn someone who doesn’t have the vampire community’s best interests at heart. Contrary to what you might think, we prefer things to be as simple as possible.
In order to be turned into a vampire, you have to drink vampire blood. It’s as easy as that. There’s no crazy rules, no hexes, no trial period. It’s just wham, bam, thank you ma’am. You drink vampire blood, and 24 hours later, presto; you’re a vampire. Now, we don’t generally do this willy nilly because we don’t really need a whole bunch of new vampires running around, but sometimes, you just decide to turn someone. And with the ease we have in concealing our blood-drinking ways (Wallace Brigham’s discoveries excluded), we could turn half the world and the other half still wouldn’t notice.
This brings us back to my current situation. Chained to a post with Raven, there’s not much I can actually do if Brigham decides he wants to use my blood to turn into a vampire. My options for preventing that happening are kind of limited at the moment, on account of the fact that I can’t currently break free without killing a girl that things were just getting interesting with. The question was, how much did Brigham know about the turning process?
“Listen, pal—“ Another backhand. I cleared my throat, tasting my own blood in my mouth. “Listen, Mr. Brigham,” I continued, “you might think this is some easy task, but being turned into a vampire requires preparation, ritual, supplies. It’s no easy thing. Plus I need to get approval from the council.”
There is no council, by the way. We vote for politicians just like everyone else. It just so happens that a lot of the politicians in vampire-friendly towns like Vegas are fellow vamps. (See? Everyone calls politicians bloodsuckers; you have no idea how right you are.)
“You are lying, Mr. Jarczynski. I know exactly what it entails to turn myself into one of your kind. Please don’t insult me by trying to play me for a fool.”
Crap.
“All right, all right. But listen, pa—,” I reconsidered my phrasing to avoid another backhand. “Listen, Mr. Brigham, are you sure you want to do this? There’s no turning back once you g
o all tooth and fang. It might affect your standing in the community. And what would that mean for your… extracurricular business ventures?”
“I’ll thank you to let me worry about that,” he said. “And now, I believe we’re through wasting time, Mr. Jarczynski. Besides, I have to make sure you don’t share any of the potentially damaging information in your possession. It wouldn't do for you to ruin my plans. I’m not sure how you discovered what was in the works, but I simply can’t allow you to get in the way at this late hour. This town is ready for some new blood.”
I had no idea what the hell he was talking about. I didn’t discover anything in his office, and I had no clue what his plans entailed. But he sure as hell seemed to think I did. I tried to think back to the papers I went through in his office, but nothing clicked. Regardless, I didn’t like the sound of what he had planned, not one bit.
“Shall we begin?” said Brigham. He nodded imperceptibly at Vinnie, who pulled out a knife about the size of my forearm. As he started towards me with no small amount of glee in his eyes, a thought occurred to me.
This was probably going to hurt like hell.
Chapter 9