Page 41 of Inked & Bloodbound
Starting small, as a low-level lackey and collector, I was to drive to the outskirts of town and collect a package from a cesspit of depravity known as a bleeding house. A windowless place where drug users mingle with drug-addicted vampires who pay to party and fuck.
This one was affectionately named House 4 and was one in a vast network of shitty twenty-four-seven party venues. I wasn’t sure how many there were in Austin exactly, but there were plenty of them. Once inside, I was to collect two young women and transfer them to Nocturne, the most prestigious vampire club in the South, controlled and owned by the Sixth.
Julian had told me that House 4 was one of the lower-level ones, known for only making the Sixth Clan a small amount of revenue, but the real value was in it as a proving ground. Sometimes, humansfrom the bleeding houses would prove their worth and end up earning their way into a place like Nocturne or the Jackalope. Hard work and sweet blood occasionally rewarded with a seat at the highest table. A club where feeding costs spiraled into the thousands, and the bleeders could even earn some money themselves instead of getting drained in exchange for drugs.
“Two of them,” Julian had said. “A couple of pretty college girls. They’ve more than proved themselves, and the Primus wants them moved before it’s too late and they’re too strung out to make any money. You will talk to Eddie; he runs the place for us. Go there, pick them up, and discreetly transfer them to Nocturne. You’ll also need to do a cash collection and bring it back to me.”
As I’d gone to leave, Julian fixed me with his cold, black eyes. “If there’s a single cent missing from the collection, I’ll know about it, you shady fuck.”
He’s never liked me but since the incident with Cyrus he hates me more than ever. I’d welcome him to try his luck. Even in my weakened state, I could snap his neck before he drew his next breath.
On the ride over, I thought about what would happen if Megan was inside. What would I do if I saw her? How hard would it be to extract her unharmed? My strength might be diminishing with each day that passes, but I’m still an old vampire. One with a history of violence and ancient royal blood coursing through his veins. I’m still more powerful than many young newbloods, and for the first time in a while, I allow myself to feel something that feels dangerously close to hope.
If I find her, I can end this today.
I’m standingin the corner, scanning the crowd at House 4, when a skinny blonde chick with a little potbelly sidles up to me and runs her finger along my arm. Her heavy lids blink slowly, like they’re drenched in molasses.
“You looking for something to drink, handsome?” she purrs, pulling her fine hair back and tilting her neck to reveal a row of angrypurple bruises. “I’m on a lotta weed and a little coke, so it’s a two hundred dollars for a taste, but for you I’d do it for half off.”
I catch a whiff of her blood and recoil. “You’re pregnant. You know that, right? You shouldn’t be anywhere near a place like this.”
She laughs and playfully bats my arm. “Oh, sugar, I know that. The boys tell me it makes my blood taste sweeter. Sometimes they throw me a little extra tip. You sure you don’t wanna try for yourself?”
“I’m good. Trust me.” My stomach turns, and I barely keep the revulsion out of my tone. “I’m looking for someone. Eddie. He looks after this place?”
“Oh, sweetie, everybody around here knows Eddie. He’s probably out back playing cards. I can take you to him if you like?”
I nod, drop my voice a few octaves, and grab her shoulders to turn her into the corner so she’s shielded from the room by my back. She giggles as I take my phone out, sliding through the camera roll until I land on an image of Megan. “I’m looking for someone else, too. A girl a little younger than you. Someone’s looking for her.”
When I turn the screen to her, she squints at it for a moment, and then her face drops. All the forced saccharine sweetness of her smile vanishes, replaced with pure horror. She shakes her head violently and attempts to push past me, but it’s futile. I’m infinitely stronger than her, and her tiny fists drum into my chest like raindrops hitting a sidewalk.
“Are you trying to get me killed?” she squeaks. “I can’t talk about that shit. Do you have any idea what he’ll do to me if he finds out I’ve talked?” She struggles for a little longer before slumping against the wall in defeat, breathing heavily whilst she strokes her burgeoning belly protectively and turns her frightened eyes up to me. “Please. I don’t want anyone to hurt my baby.”
I roll my eyes. The irony isn’t lost on me; this coked-up creature is using her unborn child as a bargaining chip. Whilst I don’t find her the least bit genuine, I can smell the fear on her. It radiates from every pore and mixes with panic and desperation.
“Please,” she whispers. “I’m begging you.”
I shush her and tilt her face up towards mine and pour myselfinto the cracks of her mind. Cooing gently as I flood it with artificial warmth and comfort, pulsing waves of serenity and trust. The feeling fills her like opium hitting a vein, and her breathing grows slow and steady again.
She softens and leans herself against me, stroking my biceps and pressing her ear to my chest. “What do you need, sugar?” She sighs sweetly. “I’ll give you anything you need.”
I shake her away from me and show her the image again. “This girl. You recognize her, don’t you?”
She nods. “Mmhmmm, I sure do. That’s Meg. She used to come around here…but not anymore.”
“Good girl. Tell me, when did you last see her?”
“Not for a while. She used to stop by and party on the regular. Nothing serious, just a little X and a coke on the weekends, but I guess she got in too deep. One day, some hot Latino-looking vamp came to get her. Told us all that if we said anything we’d be dead.” She pauses to stroke me on the arm and winks. “Don’t worry, handsome. He wasn’t a patch on you.”
“What did he look like?”
“Cute, in that bad-boy kinda way. Black hair, expensive suit, a couple of face tats right here.” She’s swaying as she points a dirty fingernail under her right eye. “Three itty bitty teardrops.”
Angel.
“Where did he take her?”
“Hell if I know. A friend of mine said she saw her down at House 9 a few months back, another one of these flop houses, but someone else said she’s working at that expensive vamp club y’all love so much. I heard she’s called Lexi and she’s into the hard stuff now. Chiva Loca is some real bad shit. I never touch the stuff…” She leans in and rubs her face against my chest like a feral cat scenting a doorway. “But I guess I could try it for you. For a price.”