Page 7 of The Mermaid’s Bubble Lounge (Sam Quinn #8)

SEVEN

Whispers in the Dark

“If I may, Sire?” Audrey asked. I hadn’t realized she was there.

“Go ahead,” Russell replied.

“We found some of her blood spattered about.”

The vampires around me stilled at that.

“We caught the scents of countless humans, as Godfrey said. We found her scent and her dog’s.

There was even a faint feline scent, as well, but no vampire.

Now, I’m not saying it wasn’t a vampire kill,” Audrey assured us.

“The poor lass was drained of blood, and she had a bite mark in her neck. We have a copy of the on-scene report, though, and the bobbies—”

“Officers,” Russell quietly corrected.

“Aye, the officers, they reported an identical wound on her inner thigh too. We don’t have the autopsy yet, but a contact we have in the morgue confirms that there was a bite mark over her femoral artery as well.”

“Really?” Vlad asked. “Out in the open? A neck bite can look like a lover’s kiss to a passerby. The same can’t be said for the femoral artery.”

“Oh, now, I beg to differ,” Godfrey interrupted. “And on a related note, I have sympathy for your dates.”

I laughed. Most of living in the nocturne blew, but these three I missed horribly.

“The draining of a body is actually a lengthy process,” Clive began. “The killing took place out in the open. Perhaps moving to the femoral was intended to speed it along.”

“It doesn’t make sense,” Vlad said. “It’s too much blood. Were there any other bite marks on her body?”

“I thought the same,” Russell said. “Draining her body only makes sense if it was some kind of feeding frenzy, if there were a group of vampires feeding on her.”

“Otherwise,” Godfrey interrupted, “we could just look for a bloated, potbellied vampire who sloshes when he walks.”

I heard a thwack and knew someone had smacked Godfrey in the back of the head.

“He’s not wrong,” Clive said.

“See?” Godfrey muttered.

“There are about five liters of blood in an adult human,” Clive explained. “That’s a ridiculous amount even if it was two vampires feeding together.”

“Is that a thing?” I asked. “Is feeding together an aphrodisiac, or were these platonic blood buddies?”

Godfrey chuffed a laugh. “My new band name.”

Clive sighed. “We’re solitary hunters, but it isn’t unheard of for us to pair up.”

“Unusual, though,” Russell said. “We’re too territorial over our meals to share.”

“St. Germaine,” I reminded them. St. Germaine was a very old and very twisted vampire in New Orleans who enjoyed torturing and feeding off humans with a partner.

Vlad shook his head. “He’s dead.” He gestured to Clive. “I heard you handed him his final death.”

I raised my hand. “That was me. In my defense, though, he was a huge creep.”

“That he was,” Russell agreed.

“Blood spatter,” Cadmael said, getting us back on track.

I was waiting for him to complete the thought, but both Clive and Vlad nodded.

“Blood spatter what?” I asked.

“It’s the way we feed, ma’am,” Audrey responded. “If we’re feeding from a live human, our lips are on them before our fangs break their skin. Spattering is wasted blood. Even newly turned vampires wouldn’t lead with their teeth.”

“Sometimes,” Cadmael began, “our kind can develop a kind of dementia.”

“And we’re back to St. Germaine,” I muttered.

Clive patted my knee and nodded in agreement.

“It can be caused by old age or starvation, but often they are ones who never should have been turned and certainly should have been handed their final death when it became apparent that there was a problem and they’d be a danger to secrecy.

In St. Germaine’s case, Lafitte was too weak to deal with him and so turned a blind eye to what was happening. ”

“And sometimes,” Cadmael continued, “that vampire lives in isolation, in mental decline, so no one is there to notice or do anything.”

A chill ran down my spine.

“Part of the reason the Guild instituted nocturnes,” Clive said.

“Yes,” Cadmael agreed, “but there are still those who have not been scooped up by nocturnes. We don’t have nocturnes in every city of the world, and not all populous cities are run by us.

There are Masters of the City who are werewolves or bear shifters, jaguar shifters, wicches.

It depends on the area and the most powerful faction in that area. ”

“If we do have a dotty vampire—or a pair—wandering around the world, it still doesn’t explain why he doesn’t leave a bloody scent marker,” Godfrey interjected.

I had a thought. The three men with me all turned to me, so I supposed I made a noise, though I didn’t recall doing so.

“Yes, my lady?” Russell said.

“Nothing. It was just a thought. Maybe there isn’t a contingent of vampires stirring up trouble and trying to come out.

Maybe what we have is a crazy guy killing people in an obviously vampy way.

Other vamps are whispering about it, believing a secret group of them is gaining power and soon they’ll be the supernatural rockstars of the world.

Really, though, it’s just one guy attacking humans unchecked because none of you guys knew you were supposed to be watching him. ”

They were all quiet a moment, considering.

“Let’s hope that isn’t the case,” Vlad said, “because I don’t know how we’d find him, especially if he doesn’t leave a scent trail.”

“Perhaps, my lady,” Russell began, “you could check to see if there is anyone in the city who shouldn’t be.”

I popped up. “Thank you. I got distracted by the car shopping. I meant to do this earlier tonight. You guys are easier to see when you’re awake. Talk amongst yourselves,” I said. “I’ll be back.”

I went into the house and lay down on the couch. Fergus followed me and squished his body between me and the back cushion. I had to scoot over to make room for my giant pup or risk my circulation being cut off.

I heard the murmur of voices on the patio, but it was low and easy to ignore.

Eyes closed, I looked for the blips in my head that meant vampire.

The three on the patio were the brightest, which could have been proximity, but probably had to do with them being the most powerful vamps in town.

There was another glut of dark green blips in the nocturne.

I scanned the city, slowly searching. I found the red blips of the dragons and the light green of the fae, most of whom were in either the ocean, Golden Gate Park, or the Mermaid’s Bubble Lounge.

Having visited, I knew Nerissa and her whole staff at the nightclub were fae.

There were two vampires in Chinatown, one in North Beach, three South of Market where a number of bars and nightclubs are.

After checking each of the six free-range vampires and recognizing them, I went back to the nocturne to see if there was someone new there.

It took a while, but other than one mafia-type from New York, the rest were ones I remembered.

None of them gave off unhinged killer vibes.

I mean, any more than a regular vampire.

I opened my eyes to Fergus’ snores and Clive sitting in the leather chair opposite the couch, watching me. The patio door was now closed, and I didn’t sense anyone here with us.

“Where did everyone go?” I whispered

Clive crooked his finger at me, his gaze dark and intent.

I grinned, giddy bubbles running through me.

I didn’t think I’d ever get used to it. He was too perfect, too gorgeous.

He made my knees weak. Doing my best impersonation of an eel, I slid my body over the edge of the couch, landing lightly on the floor and then crawling over to his chair.

“Yes?” Kneeling between his legs, I rested my arms on his thighs. “You called?”

His gaze traveled leisurely down my body before he crooked his finger again. “Closer.”

Grinning, I stood and climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips. “Yes?”

He put his hand on either side of my face and drew me in for a kiss that had me forgetting my own name. The world tipped and I was dizzy. When I finally came up for air, I realized Clive had his hands on my butt and was carrying me soundlessly up the stairs.

He took me into our bedroom, closed the door, and pressed me up against the wall before taking my mouth again. Reaching down between us, I palmed him and squeezed. On a growl, he tossed me on the bed and pinned me beneath himself.

“Are we alone?” I whispered.

Lips quirking up on one side, he looked over his shoulder, first in one direction and then the other. “You tell me,” he whispered back.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I drew him down for another kiss, using part of my mind to check the house. Alone.

I flipped us over, sat up, and unbuttoned his fancy shirt before running my hands over his perfect chest. “Sometimes,” I whispered, “I see you and my mouth goes dry.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “Why are we whispering?”

“I don’t want to wake Fergus. Now, shush. I’m telling you something sweet.”

He nodded. “Right. Sorry. Do go on.”

I fluttered my fingers near my stomach. “Champagne bubbles dance through my body and I get lightheaded. It doesn’t seem real.

This can’t be my life. I didn’t know I could love someone as much as I love you.

” Embarrassed, I traced my fingertips over his abdominal muscles. “I’m not explaining this right.”

He rolled us back over and kissed me soundly before breaking it long enough to pull my shirt over my head. “What you seem to forget, my love, is that it’s the same for me, but I had to wait longer.”

He brushed my nose with his own. “You’re my own little miracle. I trudged through ages, keeping sacred the vengeance in my heart and then out of nowhere you appear, pulling at my heartstrings. Scared, brutalized, alone, and trying so hard to keep your chin up and be brave.”

Tucking a stray hair behind my ear, he kissed me softly, almost reverently. “Just because I cover it better doesn’t mean I don’t get lightheaded looking at you. You take my breath away.”

He shook his head. “It’s hard for me to make sense of everything that had to align in the universe for you to not only be put in my path, but to, against all reason, love me.

Part of me is terrified that whatever twist of fate brought you to me will twist again and take you away.

” He rested his forehead against mine. “I wouldn’t survive it. I wouldn’t want to.”

“Then I guess we’re going to have to take good care of each other so neither of us has to face the world without the other,” I whispered, my hands in his hair.

He lifted his head and kissed the tip of my nose. “Yes,” he said, leaving kisses along my cheek, my jaw. “Until I am a pile of dust and a distant memory, I will cherish this gift.”

His hand went under me and my bra disappeared. “I think it’s time I show my appreciation for your gifts,” he murmured, his hand caressing one breast while his kisses trailed down to the other.

Back bowing off the bed, I thanked all those forces in the universe that had conspired to bring us together. What this man could do with his mouth should be celebrated in epic poems. His stubble tickled my waist, and I couldn’t control the giggle.

He looked up, eyes hot, and proceeded to use his fingers and tongue, and every part of his body to turn the laugh into a moan. When he finally settled between my legs, I was a panting, needy mess. Clinging to him like a spider monkey, I squirmed, trying to impale myself.

Clive rolled us, putting me on top, and I got to take control.

Desperate, I braced myself on his chest and rode.

Eyes vampy black, fangs pressing against his lower lip, he watched, one hand plucking and rolling my nipple, his other sliding down my body to where we were joined, making me lose my mind.

When I was close, he reared up and sank his fangs into my neck, pushing us both over the edge. I rode the aftershocks and him until he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me down, so I was sprawled on top of him, too boneless to move.

My heart was still galloping as he traced designs on my back with his fingertips. Finally, my breathing began to slow, but my limbs weren’t yet responding. The circuits in my brain appeared to be misfiring.

“I got that you didn’t find anyone when you were looking for the killer. I felt that. Did you see anything interesting we should know?” he asked.

I kissed his chest and snuggled in. “Were you seeing what I was?”

“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m not done with you.” His voice was deep and dangerous. “And, no, not really. I couldn’t see what you were seeing, but I felt your disappointment that you weren’t locating a suspect.”

I stacked my hands over his heart and rested my chin on them so I could see him better.

“I found all the usual suspects. There’s a new guy at the nocturne, but he seemed fine.

The dragons were where I’d expect them; the fae too.

I can’t see wicches or demons. Or humans, for that matter.

Maybe we’re looking in the wrong direction. ”

He took out my braid and ran his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp. With a contented purr, I dropped my head back to his chest.

“It’s possible,” he responded. “If it looks like a duck and quacks like a duck, though, we still need to be investigating ducks. And as you know, demons and wicches have their own scent.” He wound my hair around his finger.

“I keep thinking about that necklace your mother spelled for you. It wasn’t until after you lost it that your scent changed and notes of wicche appeared.

We could be dealing with a vampire carrying a wicche’s talisman. ”

He ran his hand up and down my arm. “How are you feeling?’

“Blissed out.”

He tossed me to the other side of the bed and pounced. “Perfect. Time for round two.”