Page 53

Story: Your Mr. Vampire

I watched Layla carefully. I had seen one too many episodes of Law & Order: SVU and I really thought I was Olivia Benson. My vampire senses were picking up on the subtle changes in her body. She had the quickening heartbeat. I heard a grinding of her teeth. Even her fingers inside her fists were moving in her lap.

“That’s concerning.” She responded. “Do you have any idea who might be responsible?”

Zand smiled a smile like Nino Brown. “I believe I do.” He leaned back, studying her with a predatory focus. “Your phone, Layla. I’d like to see it.”

The request hung in the air. It was an innocent request on the surface, but it was loaded with accusations. Layla’s heartbeat, which I could now hear as clearly as if I had my ear against her chest, was accelerated and erratic.

“My phone?” She forced a laugh that exposed some of her teeth. “Why would you need to see my phone?”

“Indulge me.” Zand extended his hand across the desk.

Layla hesitated for a second before slowly reaching into her dress pocket. She withdrew her cell phone. She held it for a moment. Her hand shook as she lifted it above the desk. “I don’t understand what this is about.”

“Then let me be more direct.” Zand’s voice hardened. “You’ve been seen texting immediately after receiving information about Chanel’s whereabouts. You’ve been observed watching the VIP section with unusual interest. And you’re one of only three people who knew about the Cheboygan property where Teresa Protenza attacked Morgan.”

The blood drained from Layla’s face, making her look even paler than a typical vampire. “That’s, that’s absurd. I’ve been loyal to you for all the years I’ve been in your service.”

“Unlock the phone.” Zand commanded. His hand was still extended toward her.

Layla clutched the device tighter. “This is my personal phone. It has private conversations.”

“Which you wouldn’t mind your King seeing if you have nothing to hide,” Harlen interjected from where he sat on the couch.

Layla’s deep blue eyes darted to each of us. She was calculating her options. “I refuse.” She let out a cutesy giggle. “This is invasive and insulting. I have real work to do.” She started to rise from her chair. “If you don’t trust me after all these years, perhaps I should tender my resignation.” Layla stood tall and squared her shoulders.

Natasha moved with blinding speed. Her hand clamped down on Layla’s shoulder and forced her back into the chair with such force that the chair’s legs screeched on the floor. “That wasn’t a request.” Natasha’s Russian accent popped out on full blast.

Genuine fear flashed across Layla’s face now. “You can’t do this. I have rights?—”

“Quiet.” Zand cut her off. He gave a single nod to Natasha. “Get the passcode.”

What happened next unfolded with a methodical precision that chilled me to my core. From somewhere, Natasha produced a thin blade no longer than my index finger. The sharpness of the blade gleamed in the light. Natasha grabbed the cell phone from Layla’s other hand and tossed it across the desk to Zand, and he caught it. If I would’ve blinked, I would’ve missed it. In one fluid motion, Natasha grabbed Layla’s left arm and plunged the blade across her forearm in a deep, precise cut. It was like she was cutting a steak instead of a person. But she wasn’t a person Layla was a vampire.

Layla’s screams were muffled by Natasha’s other hand pressed firmly over her mouth. Blood gushed from the cut like a water fountain. The bright candy apple red against Layla’s pale skin was shocking even to my eyes. The scent of the blood hit me like a karate kick. The blood was bright, rich, and coppery intoxicating. Not as fragrant as human blood, but still enticing. My fangs extended involuntarily.Could we drink vampire blood?I didn’t know. I struggled against the primal hunger that surged through me. I couldn’t stop watching and I noticed her arm wasn’t healing. The blood wasn’t stopping, clotting, or looking any less delightful.

“The passcode.” Natasha said calmly, as if asking about the weather. “Six digits, I believe.”

Layla shook her head violently. Natasha sighed, almost disappointed, and made another cut, parallel to the first. Blood ran even more freely now, dripping onto the expensive rug below.

I should’ve been horrified. A week ago, I would have been. But something in me, the new, rapacious part, watched with coldfascination instead. This was the justice I’d been craving since I woke up changed.

“Eight-four-sev—” Layla gasped when Natasha grabbed her hair and positioned the blade for a third cut. “Please, stop.”

Zand turned the phone screen around and placed it in front of Layla’s face. The screen opened without the aid of a passcode.What the hell?If they knew her face could open the phone, why did they carve her arm up and damn near have her bled out on the floor?

Zand scrolled through the phone. His expression didn’t give anything away. With each swipe of his finger, I stood frozen in place. Natasha had a firm grip on Layla’s head and Harlen sat with his arms rested on his knees. The room fell silent except for Layla’s ragged breathing. We all were waiting for confirmation.

“You’ve been texting with Teresa.” Zand finally said. “There is detailed information about Chanel’s schedule dating back. Details about my movements. About my security team.” He turned the phone so we can all see the screen. It was filled with incriminating messages. She didn’t have the sense god gave a chicken. Cause why didn’t she delete the messages all the way off the phone?

“Zand.” Layla whimpered out his name.

“Zand.” He repeated.

“My King.” Layla begged.

There it was again. When did we start calling him King? Were the other vampires already calling him that and I didn’t know about it?

“You told her about my Cheboygan condo. You gave her the address, the security codes.” Zand admonished.