Mrs. Dracula: Vampire Anthology Page 9

  I searched the crush of people jockeying for position along the Brass Bucket’s polished oak bar. The hairs rose on the back of my neck, a familiar tingle. Someone was watching me. Before I could turn towards the source, his velvety smooth voice caressed my ear.

  “Camille.” The scent of bay rum and his pomade enveloped me. A frisson of excitement sizzled through me, making me shiver. “Can I buy you a drink?”

  Nick was a fascinating puzzle. Fighter, friend, hunter, charmer, what other layers were there to discover? The outer shell of the man looked dapper in a white panama hat, light gray pin striped suit, and crimson bow tie. All his jagged edges smoothed, his stance confident and relaxed, patiently waiting. I licked my lips. Nick’s eyes followed the movement, his mouth curved up into a devilish grin. He would make an interesting pet.

  “Please.”

  “Champagne?”

  “Lovely.”

  He moved easily through a kaleidoscope of bright colored dresses, tailored suits, and tuxedos. People bent and swayed like blades of tall grass, accommodating his passage. The bartender ignored the call of other patrons, acknowledging Nick with a nod as he retrieved two champagne glasses. Turning, Nick rested an elbow on the bar, and watched me. A nervous fluttering swarmed my core. I felt like a radiant blue and green butterfly pinned beneath his avid gaze.

  “Hey doll, you look swell,” Charlie said.

  Ruby, clinging to his side, scowled at me. Her bounteous breasts displayed to perfection in a deep V-neck-line candy apple red dress.

  “Go grab a table.” Charlie peeled her off himself. “I’ll get us some giggle juice.”

  Waiting until he was almost to Nick, Ruby rounded on me and hissed, “Find your own guy and leave mine alone.” Her pinched face contorted into a mask of fury.

  Nonplussed, I gaped at her.

  Ruby sidled close and jabbed a finger into the hollow below my collarbone. “Think I wouldn’t find out you met him, alone, yesterday?”

  “I presumed you would be with him. You invited me.” I reminded her. “Quit doing that.” I smacked her hand away. “We talked for a bit. What’s the big deal?”

  “Keep your mitts off, sister, and there won’t be a big deal.” Her face smoothed out and she summoned up a cherubic smile. “Nicky.”

  If she put her arm around me, I’d deck her. Nick handed me a glass of champagne and looked questioningly between the two of us.

  High wattage smile firmly in place, Ruby turned away from us and scanned the smoke-filled room. “I see Jimmy up front. Come on.”

  “You okay?” Nick asked.

  We trailed behind Ruby. Threading between occupied bistro tables, we made our way closer to the dance floor. Music rippled through the air, a siren’s call to restless feet.

  “Swell.” I took a sip of bubbly. “Do you like to dance?”

  “I can dance.” He drew the word ‘can’ out into two syllables. “Wouldn’t say I like it.”

  “Ah, good, I love to dance and the band is divine. I’ll torture you into taking me for a spin around the floor, after the requisite small talk, of course.”

  Nick held out a chair for Ruby and she flounced down into it. Holding out one for me, he said, “Small talk is torturous.”

  Ruby giggled.

  “Camille, this is Jimmy. Jimmy, Camille.”

  Light brown hair, molasses brown eyes, he was shorter than Nick but still a head taller than me even with my heels. “Nice to meet you.” He smoothed his hand down his pale gold suit before offering it to me.

  “Pleased to meet you.”

  Jimmy stared in frank assessment, his eyes ticking between me and Nick like a metronome. I wondered what ran through his mind. His thick, unruly brows shrugged up along with his shoulders before turning his attention to the band.

  Leaning into Nick as he sat beside me, I purred low, “You say torture but the rewards are worth the pain.”

  He chuckled and saluted with his champagne. “To the rewards.”

  Charlie plunked down next to Ruby and in a trice was spooling out stories. Jimmy and Nick sliding in anecdotes of their own. Nick’s humor was drier than his friends’ but the men worked off each other like a vaudeville comedy act. Ruby puffed on her cigarette with a vengeance, aiming each exhale of gray smoke at me like a throwing knife. Sending scathing looks my way in between plumes of smoke, always whipping out a solicitous smile when one of the guys directed a comment her way. She was tiresome.

  I shifted in my chair to watch the dancers. The band’s lively spirit brought out the good time girls in droves. I tapped my toes to the beat, only half listening to the men swap tales. A tall, dark, and Rudy Valentino-handsome man stood on the edge of the dance floor. Arms crossed over his tuxedoed chest, he ignored the shimmying girls and stared at our table. The band shifted tempo to a popular waltz. The single girls reluctantly made way for couples taking the floor.

  “Would you like to dance?” Nick asked.

  “Yes, love to.”

  His left hand cupped my right, swallowing it whole. Nick wrapped his right hand around my back, cinching me close. “What’s going on with you and Ruby?”

  “She’s nuts.”

  Nick snorted. “Sometimes.”

  We floated among the other dancers. Nick moved with a grace I hadn’t expected.

  “Is it Charlie?”

  I looked up in surprise, craning my neck. “How’d you know?”

  “She thinks every woman is after him. Wait until she’s had a bit of juice and she’ll lighten up.”

  “Hmm, ready for a little torture?” I batted my lashes coquettishly.

  “Do you have something in your eye?” Nick frowned, braying with laughter when I smacked his shoulder. His battered visage came close to handsome with his broad smile.

  “So, what do you do for a living, Mr. Moretti?”

  Nick groaned. “Work for my uncle, ah, customer relations. What brings you to Chicago, Miss Camille?”

  “I’m a traveler, looking for a home. Your lovely city has exciting potential.”

  The Rudy Valentino-like man appeared in my sightline again. His gaze tracked us as we floated across the floor.

  “Perhaps you could give me a tour sometime?” I asked.

  “That can be arranged.”

  Closing my eyes, I rested my cheek against his broad chest. My body attuned to Nick’s masterful direction. He was a hell of a dance partner. I was reluctant to compel this man. Cocooned in the tensile strength of Nick’s arms I indulged in a schoolgirl wish for a fully engaged hunting partner. Gossamer fantasies of bullets and bloodletting, intricately choreographed for our amusement, spun through my mind. A hum of pleasure coursed through me. I wondered how sweet Nick’s blood would be? My tongue played over my emerging fangs. I needed to get him alone and find out.

  The waltz ended and the band kicked up the beat. We walked hand in hand back to our table as more flapper girls dashed onto the floor. Someone had pulled in two more bistro tables to accommodate the swelling number of friends. But instead of a jovial atmosphere, tension thrummed the air.

  Ruby now sat far away from our open seats. Pressed close to Charlie, she nervously chewed lipstick off her lower lip. Charlie, hunched forward, spoke quietly to Jimmy. His normally animated expression now stern.

  Nick pulled out my chair but didn’t sit himself. Instead, he conferred with two stoic faced newcomers. Their hushed conversation was obliterated by brass horns.

  Expectantly, I waited. My skin twitched with excess energy. Nick absently touched my shoulder before walking off with the strangers. What was going on? Irritated, I crossed my arms and flopped against the chair back. I wanted to laugh, to dance, to be a voyeur to the fantastic. This was boring. My crossed leg swung impatiently.

  Ruby scowled, but not at me. I looked over my shoulder to see who else was on her list and saw Valentino.

  Strong hands gripped my thin shoulders. Nick curved over me, his hazel eyes dark, frown lines etched across his forehead. “Camille, I’m
sorry, doll, there’s been an…accident…at work.”

  Rising, I turned to face him. “Work keeps taking you from me.” I tried to keep my tone light. “Any chance you’ll be back soon?”

  “No, I’m sorry.”

  I reached up and stroked his scarred cheek. Warm, smooth, recently shaved skin gave way to cool, ridged flesh beneath my fingertips. Nick stilled under my touch. I closed my eyes and reverently traced over miniscule bumps of knotted tissue. I sighed, opened my eyes, and studied my warrior’s grim countenance.

  “You owe me another dance.”

  Nick turned his head into my questing fingers and kissed them. “I look forward to it.”

  Reluctantly, I lowered my hand. “Me too. Call me tomorrow? I’m staying at the Palmer House.”

  “I will.” He flashed that addicting smile, squeezed my shoulders, then walked away, the dour faced men hard on his heels.

  Retaking my seat, I watched those around me enjoying themselves. Girls dancing, feathers and fringe flying about them. Laughing men swilling drinks and watching the lighthearted dancers. Ruby, Charlie, Jimmy, and another stranger huddled together, ignoring me. There would be no further comedy act playing at the table tonight. Maybe I could stir up a suitable diversion?

  No one paid any attention when I rose. Slipping through the revelers, I assessed potential scenarios. Several men invaded my path, trying to garner my notice. I considered pitting one against another. Soft men who wouldn’t be able to take a punch. They were pale comparisons to my hunter.

  A lone man stood at the mouth of a dimly lit hallway. Valentino. I veered in his direction. Anyone worthy of Ruby’s scorn could prove entertaining. As I approached, he grinned wolfishly. He gesticulated by crooking his finger and glided backwards. At least this one had some moxie. I sauntered nearer. Movie star man retreated further into the recesses of the hall. His sapphire blue eyes danced over my face. Foolish man, my mouth watered.

  “What’s a beautiful woman like you doing with Frank Moretti’s lackey?” He crossed his arms and propped a hip against a closed door.

  “Enjoying myself. And you are?” Dinner.

  “You can do much better than that bruiser.”

  “Can I?”

  He straightened, flourishing his hand grandly from the crown of his head to his knees. “Of course.”

  I inched closer. A little hunger pang prodded me, just a little sip. I gazed up at him through the fringe of my dark lashes.

  “Besides, that ugly goon’s not long for this world.” He stared me down, a smirk ghosting his plush lips.

  I stilled. “What?”

  Movie star man’s grin broadened. I wanted to wipe that cocky smile from his face. Was he threatening Nick?

  “Open the door,” I commanded.

  The grin faltered, his blue eyes widened. He fumbled for the doorknob, twisted, and it clicked open.

  Pushing on his muscular chest, I backed him into a small, deserted room. Moonlight streamed through high overhead windows, illuminating a wooden desk covered with papers and ledgers, several filing cabinets, and two chairs. Someone’s office. I shut the door.

  “What did you mean?” My dark eyes bored into his blue orbs.

  “Everybody knows Frank overstepped himself. O’Shea pushed back tonight.”

  The accident that took Nick away. Anger hooked its talons into me. I lashed out at Valentino, crushing his will like a cockroach under my heel.

  “Your boy is going to get what’s coming to him. All of them are,” he ground out. Muscles in his neck bunched and strained, desperate to look away.

  “Kneel.”

  Valentino genuflected onto one knee. Grabbing a handful of pomade stiffened black hair, I jerked his head back. My lips peeled back into a snarl, revealing elongated fangs. Valentino’s eyes stretched wide, rolling like a terrified horse’s. Gouging through skin and muscle, I lacerated the juicy vein and gulped down his hot, salty blood greedily.

  “Please.” The strangled word stretched out into a weak cry of pain, music to my ears.

  Unclenching my hand, I ran my fingers through his hair. Smiled when he flinched away from my touch. I swiped the back of my hand over my blood rouged lips. “What’s O’Shea planning?”

  “I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t—” he babbled.

  “Do you work for O’Shea?”

  “Yes.”

  Valentino slumped forward and I hauled him upright by the lapels of his tuxedo coat.

  “You said Nick wasn’t long for this world. What do you know about that? What did you hear? Tell me.” I shook him.

  “Nothing. The boss didn’t say anything to me. I don’t know. I don—”

  I slapped his face, leaving behind a reddened imprint. What if Nick was walking into a set up? It didn’t matter that the idiot told the truth. An orange haze of fury swamped me. I clutched his head between my shaking hands and twisted, breaking his neck. Valentino folded to the floor. I lashed a kick out at the dead man’s ribs. I needed to warn Nick. Charlie would know where to find him.

  Men no longer moved into my path. Instead they scurried backwards. A pair retreated so quickly, they tangled feet and fell like dominos. I was sure there was no blood on me, I’d checked before leaving the little office. Perhaps it was my expression? I focused on relaxing my face. I experimentally smiled at a flapper girl, who squeaked in alarm and skittered away from me.

  When I arrived back at our table, it was occupied by strangers. Not recognizing a single face, I spun in place, searching the crowd. Where was everyone? I cut a path towards the front doors, scanning for a familiar face as I made my way.

  Outside, several Yellow Cabs and Checker Taxis idled. I craned my neck, looking up and down the street. Small groups of people milled about, smoking and talking quietly. Finally, I recognized a face, Jimmy. I rushed towards him.

  “Jimmy, do you know where Nick is?”

  His dark eyes narrowed, watching me approach like I was a coiled rattler.

  “Let’s take a walk.” He caught hold of my arm, hauling me forward. Steering me away from the club.

  “I heard something inside. I think Nick’s in trouble.” I trotted to keep up with his longer stride. What was his problem?

  “Oh, I agree. I think you’re Nick’s trouble.” Stubbornly, staring straight ahead, his stubbled jaw clenched. We rounded the corner and barreled down North Broadway.

  “What?”

  Jimmy pressed a gun into my side. “Shut up.”

  “There’s no need to be rude.”

  I elbowed the gun and he jabbed it deeper into my ribs. Wrapping his free arm tightly around me, he practically dragged me along to a parked car.

  “What is this? You need to listen to me. Nick may be in trouble.”

  “Shut up.” He looked down at me and glowered. I had him. The cretin staggered under the onslaught of my will. His gun clattered to the sidewalk.

  “What is going on?”

  “I need to get you to Frank.”

  “Why?”

  “Spy.”

  The man’s knees threatened to buckle. I eased up. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Stand up, now,” I hissed. “Me? A spy? A spy for whom?”

  “O’Shea. Ruby saw you. That cop let you go at the raid. He’s one of O’Shea’s.” Sweat poured down the gangster’s face. “Then tonight, she saw you with O’Shea’s runner. Said you two were hot and heavy.” His body trembled.

  Ruby, that meddlesome bitch. I stomped my feet, wishing it were her face beneath my heels. Oh, how I wanted to rip her throat out. That petty, jealous harpy had decimated my good times. She stole Chicago from me. I gritted my teeth, forcing back a bloodcurdling howl of frustration.

  “Go on,” I snarled.

  “O’Shea hit us tonight. Figured you hot-footed it with the runner. Sent Charlie and Ruby to Frank and said I’d watch for you. Bring you back if I found you.”

  Who else had seen me walk down that hall with Valentino? I hadn’t had time to hide his body.
How soon would he be discovered? Absently, I rubbed my fingertips together, remembering the feel of that beautiful scar. Nick knew where I was staying. Would there be someone waiting for me at the Palmer House? I didn’t need this kind of attention.

  “Is this your car?” I nodded to the black Buick roadster.

  “Yeah.”

  All I wanted was to have a little fun. What was the harm in that? I could just picture smug Vlad, condescendingly shaking his head and uttering his favorite foul words, “I told you so.” My nails curved into claws. The desire to shred and tear something, anything, overwhelmed me. Knowing time was short, I reined in my boiling indignation.

  There were only clothes and fripperies at the Palmer House. I always travelled light. It could all be replaced easily enough. There were so many places I hadn’t explored yet. So many adventures waiting for me. I regretted only that it was Jimmy here before me and not dear Nick. It was time to put Chicago in the rearview mirror.

  “You’re driving. Get in,” I snapped. I’d need a snack along the way.

  FLEEING JUSTICE

  Sherry Foster

  Catherine could not believe it. After all these centuries, she had a child. Well, she sort of had a child. She might be a vicious killer in the eyes of her husband, but that did not mean she had no feelings. Besides, it was not really murder if the ones she killed were meant to be food for her kind.

  It had taken years to manipulate the DNA of these Earthlings, but she had succeeded; the technology had not existed until the last few decades. She was looking at the test from the scientist she had hired. The results brought a smile to her face.

  Remembering the confusion on the scientist’s face as he had studied the blood she had given him also brought a smile to her face. Before she had killed him, he had confirmed the two samples of blood were from the same species. She may be stuck on this backwater planet in the middle of the back of beyond, located in the no one would ever choose to live here galaxy, but finally, she had a child—a child that was probably getting hungry.

  She had left enough food to last the two days she was going to be gone, but the girl was greedy. The bodies had undoubtedly been drained of blood before the sun had risen on the second day. Catherine really hoped Margo had not untied the food before she ate. She was still young, and thought playing with your food was acceptable. It would be more acceptable when Margo was old enough and strong enough to actually control the food.