Page 5 of How to Stake a Vampire (Diary of a Reluctant Werewolf #2)
BANKING ON TROUBLE
Eternal Reserves occupied a converted Victorian mansion in the Crossroads. The building squatted between a twenty-four-hour laundromat and a taxidermy shop. The sign in the latter’s window advertised Undead Pet Preservation Services , which I wisely decided not to ask anyone about.
The only hints that this wasn’t your average blood bank were the tinted windows and the discreet brass nameplate that read Specialized Supernatural Medical Storage Facility .
“Subtle,” I muttered as we climbed the front steps.
“Vampires aren’t known for their marketing skills,” Didi observed.
“This is actually an improvement,” Gavin said. “The last blood bank I visited with a vampire friend had a neon sign that said Type O and Go .”
Barney had the grace to look embarrassed at his brethren’s lack of tact.
Bo slowed warily as we approached the front door.
“This place smells like a hospital had a baby with a butcher shop.”
The Husky wasn’t wrong. My skin fairly itched and my wolf wanted to bare her fangs at the scent of blood wafting from the building.
“By the way, where do blood banks get their blood from?” I asked distractedly.
“From other supernatural creatures,” Barney replied. “And vampires.”
That made me pause. “Vampires drink other vampires’ blood?”
“Isn’t that like, cannibalism?” Bo asked warily.
“You try to eat your tail on a regular basis,” Barney reminded the Husky coolly.
“Some humans like to donate blood as well,” Didi volunteered while Bo huffed indignantly. “The ones who know of Amberford’s supernatural side.” She shrugged at my stare. “Humans have weird fetishes.”
The interior of Eternal Reserves was all sterile white walls, clinical lighting, and an eye-watering aroma of antiseptic that failed to mask the blood smell. The furniture was garishly cheerful and had evidently been chosen to make people forget that the place was basically a supernatural deli.
A woman with gray skin looked up from behind a desk as we entered. Her smile was bright enough to power a small city.
“Welcome to Eternal Reserves,” she said with disarming enthusiasm. “Are you here for a deposit? I’m afraid we’re not doing withdrawals right now. Just so you know, we’re especially in need of O-negative.”
“We’re with Hawthorne & Associates.” Didi showed the woman her ID. “We’re here about the break-in.”
The woman’s smile faded until it could barely illuminate a medium-sized village.
“Ah. We’ve been expecting you. I’m Gladys Flintbone, the facility manager.” She came around the desk. “Would you like some refreshments while we talk? I just made fresh brain muffins.”
“That’s very kind, but—” I started glassily.
“Oh, don’t worry,” Gladys interrupted. “They’re gluten-free. And they’re made with only the finest organic ingredients. Well, mostly organic. The brains are locally sourced. Ha-ha.”
“Ha-ha,” I echoed leadenly.
Bo tucked his tail firmly between his legs.
“We’re fine, thank you,” Didi stated firmly.
Gladys looked disappointed. “Are you sure?” She brightened a little. “I also have some lovely finger sandwiches. Actual finger sandwiches, not the boring kind humans make.”
“We wouldn’t say no to coffee,” Gavin suggested.
“You’ve already had coffee this morning,” Didi told the dragon newt.
Gavin’s horns popped out. “I can have a second cup,” he said with a hefty dose of belligerence.
Didi and I traded a look. One thing I’d come to learn in the last three weeks was that an over-caffeinated Gavin was a dangerous Gavin.
“Perhaps we could speak with whoever was on duty on Saturday night?” Barney said coolly.
Gladys blinked. “Oh. Mr. Bludworth. I didn’t see you there.”
I was wondering how anyone could ignore a skulking, six-foot-tall vampire who smelled faintly of mothballs when I realized he was doing his “fading into the background” vampire thing again, which took me by surprise the first time he did it at the office a week ago.
So much so I inadvertently screamed the place down.
This caused everyone to rush over, including a multi-eyed and tentacled Nigel who’d forgotten to adopt his human form in the heat of the moment.
Which resulted in even more inadvertent screaming.
“Follow me,” Gladys said. “I’ll get everyone in the break room.”
She led us down a hallway lined with decorative medical equipment displays that looked like they’d originated from the medieval ages.
The break room was a mix of normal office furniture and items that didn’t look like standard corporate issue.
A microwave sat next to what appeared to be a small crematorium.
A coffee maker shared counter space with several glass containers full of things I didn’t want to identify.
A rack of brain muffins was cooling next to an industrial-sized oven that could easily house several children.
“Are you sure I can’t tempt you with—?” Gladys started, gesturing toward the baked goods.
“No,” Didi, Gavin, Bo, and I said as one.
“I’ll try one,” Barney volunteered.
Gladys beamed, took a china plate from a cupboard, and served him a muffin with reverence.
Barney bit into it. His eyes widened a little. “This is nice.”
“The secret is in the marinade,” Gladys said proudly. “Most people just throw the brains in raw, but I like to let them soak in a nice wine reduction first.”
My eyes glazed over a little.
Barney met our faintly accusing stares as Gladys left the room in search of her coworkers.
“It would have been rude to refuse,” he said defensively. “Ghouls are very proud of their cooking.” He tucked into the rest of his muffin with obvious gusto.
“Right,” Gavin muttered.
“This guy just likes brain muffins,” Bo whispered accusingly.
Gladys returned with three ghouls.
They all had matching gray skin and name tags that read Hi! I’m Dead, How Can I Help You?
“This is Pete, Bethany, and Steve,” Gladys introduced. “They were all here on the night of the robbery.”
Pete waved shyly. His left arm dropped off.
Bethany picked it up and reattached it without a word.
“Let me make you that coffee.” Gladys busied herself at the counter while we sat at a round table that had seen better centuries. “What would you like? We have regular, decaf, and plasma blend.”
“Regular, please,” I said quickly. Didi and Gavin murmured the same.
“Plasma blend,” came Barney’s unsurprising answer.
Gladys looked at Bo.
“He doesn’t do coffee,” I said.
Bo wagged his tail. “I had it once and I don’t remember the next five hours of my life,” he said with misplaced pride.
“He ran around the park like he was possessed,” I said at Didi’s and Gavin’s questioning looks.
Steve, who seemed to be the most intact of the ghouls, spoke. “It’s terrible about the break-in.” He shook his head sadly.
Bo stared with bated breath and looked a little disappointed when Steve’s head didn’t fall off.
“We take security very seriously here,” Pete added. “Well, we did. Now we’re thinking of getting one of those fancy alarm systems.”
“About time,” Bethany muttered. “The taxidermist next door has more security tech than we do.”
Gladys served us our drinks before taking a seat at the table. “Now, then, what would you like to know?”
Didi pulled out her notepad and clicked her pen with a sound like someone cocking a gun.
“Can you walk us through what happened that night?”
Pete, Bethany, and Steve exchanged wary looks.
“It was around midnight,” Pete began. “It was my turn in the security room. I noticed the cameras going dark. At first I thought it was just a power glitch. Happens all the time in these old buildings.” He waved a hand vaguely at the ceiling.
Bethany caught it with lightning-fast speed as it dropped off his wrist.
Bo started wagging his tail.
I eyed my dog’s keen eyes suspiciously. I sure as hell hoped he wasn’t thinking of treating one of Pete’s body parts like a fetching stick.
“Sorry.” Pete twisted his hand back on with an embarrassed expression.
“No problem,” Gavin hummed.
I looked around at his tone and swallowed a groan.
The dragon newt’s horns were now fully visible and his pupils were dilated.
Didi cursed and yanked his cup out of his hands.
“Hey!” the dragon newt protested. “I was drinking that.”
“And now you’re not, so zip it,” Didi hissed.
A headache started thrumming at my temples.
“What happened after that?” I asked the ghouls, pretending not to notice Gavin’s heavily smoking nostrils.
“The temperature dropped,” Steve said.
I stared. “The temperature dropped?”
Steve nodded. “Yes. Really dropped. Like, morgue-cold dropped.”
Barney leaned forward, pupils gleaming crimson for a worrying second.
“Did you see the intruder?” the vampire asked sharply.
“We caught a glimpse of him before he locked us up,” Bethany said. “He was tall, very pale. Dressed like he was heading to a nineteenth-century costume party.”
“What about his face?” I asked. “Could you pick him out of a lineup?”
“No.” Pete grimaced. “He moved so fast everything looked blurry.”
“Did he say anything?” Barney pressed.
Pete, Bethany, and Steve exchanged a glance.
“Not to us,” Steve said reluctantly. “But we did hear him humming while he was clearing out the place.”