Page 10 of How to Stake a Vampire (Diary of a Reluctant Werewolf #2)

BAD BLOOD

The werewolf nurse paled. “Oh, no!” She turned and ran.

“You should give up, Joyce,” the pixie muttered darkly, following. “Hilda’s lost it.”

“Don’t do it, Hilda!” Joyce hollered. “He’s not worth losing your license over! Irene, what are you waiting for?!”

The witch dashed out from behind the nurse’s station and joined the pair as they pelted down the passage.

We exchanged an awkward glance as the sounds of their footsteps faded.

“Maybe we should go after them,” I suggested.

“Do we have to?” Bo asked.

Gavin and Didi looked like they shared my dog’s opinion.

Barney sighed. “Come on.”

He led the way down the corridor, Lady Atkins following us at a cautious distance.

We traced the source of the altercation to a side room and found the nursing trio manhandling the dwarf nurse while the latter attempted valiantly to behead a vampire with a battleaxe twice her size.

“Let me at him!” she snarled, legs cycling a couple of feet off the floor.

The vampire on the bed scowled. “I must say, your behavior is most uncouth, sir.”

“I’m a lady, you blood-sucking Neander—!” the dwarf growled before Irene muzzled her desperately with a hand.

“She’s spunky,” Bo commented, tail swinging.

Sometimes, I really missed my old job at Pennington & Graves.

Barney gave the vampire in the bed a dirty look. “What did you do, William?”

Count de Vile’s gimlet gaze locked on Barney. His expression turned suspicious. “What are you doing here, Bludworth?”

“He’s visiting,” Lady Atkins simpered from the doorway.

“Trust me, I’d rather be anywhere else,” Barney muttered.

Count de Vile curled a lip. “All I did was state the truth. The cuisine here leaves a lot to be desired. Why, my steak tartare was more tartare than steak and that Type-O wine might as well have been a Pinot Noir.” He crossed his arms. “At this rate, I shall perish from starvation!”

The pixie’s eyes flashed. “You’ve been here half a day. And this isn’t a goddamn gourmet restaurant.”

Count de Vile looked down his nose at her. “Watch your mouth, peasant.” He sneered. “May I remind you that I pay that pittance you call a salary.”

“Not from Dave’s audits, you don’t,” Didi muttered.

The pixie closed her eyes. “Ugh, my blood pressure.”

“Calm down, Hazel.” Joyce turned to us, amber lighting up her eyes briefly in her distress. “As you can see, our patients are not in a position to?—”

“I’m afraid this is rather urgent,” Didi interrupted firmly.

I could tell the witch was trying hard not to turn everyone into a frog.

“Yeah, the sooner we do this, the sooner we can get out of this nuthouse,” Gavin contributed.

“You said it, bro,” Bo huffed.

“Do you have a room where we could interview the patients?” I asked Joyce diplomatically.

Count de Vile narrowed his eyes. “You smell like a Hawthorne, wolf. You must be that new luna of theirs.” He scanned me from head to toe, like someone scrutinizing the best-by label on a block of moldy cheese. “You look like you’re of common stock. Victoria must be disappointed.”

Bo stamped his feet. “How rude!”

My wolf’s hackles rose a little. “Victoria and I get along fine, not that it’s any of your business.”

“Yeah, and Pearl is my bestie,” Bo huffed indignantly.

“Bestie” was stretching it, but I decided not to point this out to my dog.

Count de Vile arched a haughty eyebrow. “Somehow I doubt that. Those two have high standards.”

A low growl left my throat.

Joyce evidently sensed I was about to go she-wolf on her patient and hastily arranged to bring the three victims to a treatment room.

Baron Philippe Beaumont was wheeled in on a gurney, still wailing. He stopped abruptly at the sight of us.

“Barnabas?” he quavered.

“Philippe,” Barney grunted.

“Oh Barnabas!” Baron Beaumont sat up weakly. “It is good to see you, mon ami . Come, let me tell you about my woes.”

“I’d rather you didn’t.”

“But Hell is empty and all the devils are here,” the baron protested.

Bo’s tail started wagging. “I like him. He’s like that guy from my favorite TV show.”

“ Murder, She Barked ?” I asked automatically.

“ Buried Secrets and Biscuit Treats .”

Didi’s left eye started twitching.

Lady Atkins gave my dog a wary look before addressing Beaumont a tad sharply. “He’s here to listen to all our woes, Philippe, not just yours.”

“Yes, so how about you put a sock in it,” Count de Vile grumbled.

Baron Beaumont bristled. “Do not speak to me, sir,” he snapped. “Why, more of your conversation would surely infect my brain!”

I was impressed by the flying thespian insults despite myself.

I heard teeth grinding and shot a glance at Didi.

The witch looked like she was five minutes away from saying to hell with it all and transforming everyone into an amphibian.

“The Tremaines asked Hawthorne & Associates to investigate a series of blood bank robberies,” I told the assembled vampires hastily. “We suspect the one who attacked the three of you last night was behind them.”

Lady Atkins clutched her nonexistent pearls. “A robbery, you say?!”

“Robberies,” Gavin corrected.

“Madre de dios,” Baron Beaumont murmured, ashen-faced.

Count de Vile lowered his brows. “Does this mean the blood banks in Amberford are running low?”

I could see why Dave popped antacids when he had to pay this guy a visit.

“Oh, no.” Lady Atkins had gone as pale as a ghost. “Please don’t tell me this is going to be like that time in the 1980, when we had to survive on kale for six months?!”

“There was a blood-borne virus going around,” Gavin explained at my puzzled expression. “We learned about it in school.”

Bo shuddered. “I hate kale.”

“Tell me about it,” Lady Atkins mumbled.

Barney steered the conversation back on track. “Gregory told us you were in your own homes when it happened. Can you tell us more?”

The three victims exchanged an uncomfortable glance.

“There’s not much to say.” Count de Vile scowled. “That scoundrel broke into our bedrooms and sucked us dry while we slept.”

We stared.

“That’s it?” I asked skeptically.

Didi frowned. “You’re all powerful vampires. How could one man immobilize you and drain you of over half your blood volume without you putting up so much as a fight?”

“Well, if you must know, mademoiselle,” Baron Beaumont started in a friendly voice, “the perpetrator moved like a wraith?—”

“A shadow,” Lady Atkins interrupted, bobbing her head firmly.

“Indeed,” Baron Beaumont continued with a trace of irritation. “A creature of the night more terrible than myself.”

Count de Vile sneered. “There are stray dogs more terrible than you.”

“Is there anything useful you wish to contribute to this conversation, William?” Barney said icily while Baron Beaumont spluttered. “Or are you just flapping those bloodless lips of yours?”

Count de Vile waved a hand vaguely. “He was fast. And the reason we couldn’t fight back is because of what he did to immobilize us.”

My scalp prickled. “Immobilize you?”

I glanced at the others, a vision of the crystal skull rising at the back of my mind. From Didi’s and Gavin’s looks, they were having similar morbid thoughts.

“In darkness deep, a predator came,” Lady Atkins recited solemnly, “with Beethoven’s tune and bloodred flame. He pierced my flesh with needle bright and stole away my precious might?—”

“So he really was humming Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony?” Barney cut in sharply.

I furrowed my brow. “Wait. He used a needle?!”

Lady Atkins deflated. “Yes and yes,” she confirmed a smidgen sullenly.

“He injected something into our necks,” Count de Vile grunted. “It must have been some kind of drug. It drained us of our strength and pretty much paralyzed us.”

My mouth went dry.

A muscle jumped in Barney’s jawline. “There are not many drugs that can paralyze a vampire.” Unease underscored his words.

“Some clever Dick obviously came up with one,” Count de Vile said darkly. “Amberford is full of them, after all.”

Gavin’s horns had popped out and his nostrils were sparking alarmingly. “So not only do we have a psychotic ancient vampire intent on purifying his race going around Amberford doing God knows what, we’re also dealing with a narcotics case?”

Baron Beaumont blinked slowly. “Purifying his race?”

Didi shot a dirty look at Gavin. I swallowed a sigh.

Bo plopped down on his haunches. “The cat’s out of the bag now.”

Count de Vile’s eyes had shrunk to slits. “Don’t tell me that quack wrote some kind of blood purity manifesto?”

“He did.” Barney shrugged at Didi’s glare. “They were going to find out soon anyway. Gregory has a duty to inform them.”

“Can you describe the man who attacked you?” I asked warily.

“Tall, as pale as moonlight, dressed as though he’d stepped out of a daguerreotype,” Count de Vile said promptly.

“His eyes were as red as fresh blood,” Baron Beaumont contributed with a shiver.

I sighed. That could be any vampire.

“Anything else?”

Lady Atkins fidgeted with the neckline of her gown.

“What is it, Muriel?” Barney asked.

“My memory is hazy, but I think I heard him say some strange things before he left.”

My pulse quickened. “What kind of strange things?”

“He told me my bloodline showed promise,” the vampire replied uneasily. “That I was contributing to something greater.”

Baron Beaumont cleared his throat. “I recall similar words. He said he was creating something special.” He hesitated. “That Amberford would soon witness the birth of a new age of vampire supremacy.”

The hairs rose on the back of my neck. Barney went very still.

The vampires had little else to add, so we left them in the care of Joyce and her coworkers and drove back to Hawthorne & Associates in grim silence. My phone pinged with an incoming message when we were halfway across town. I frowned when I read it.

“Samuel wants to see us when we get back.”

“Now what?” Didi muttered.