Blood Moon (17 page)

“Detective,” I corrected, pulling the
pictures of our victims from the inside pocket of my leather jacket
and holding them out one at a time. “Have you seen any of these
people before? Like, in the last few weeks?”

He looked a little taken aback at first, but
he pushed his shock aside and wiped his hands on his bar towel
before reaching out and taking the pictures for a closer look.
After a minute, he shook his head regretfully. “Sorry, they don’t
look familiar.”

“You’re sure?”

Nodding, he gave the photos back. “Well,
they don’t exactly look the type, you know? But that’s not to say
they didn’t maybe alter their appearance before coming in once or
twice.”

“So it’s possible they kept this part of
their lives hidden during the day?”

“Definitely,” he conceded, leaning forward
again, almost as though he was trying to keep this conversation
private. “But I will tell you that most of the people we cater to
live and breathe this shit.”

Somewhat bewildered by his choice of words,
I questioned his statement. “You make it sound like you don’t share
their interest in all of this.”

“Because I don’t,” he replied, sounding
somewhat offended that I would even suggest it.

Really? Has he looked in a mirror?

He sighed heavily. “I’m here because it pays
the bills and leaves me with quite a bit of money left over. Most
of these people are regulars, and not just anyone can get in. It’s
a very exclusive club, and you get in by invite only…or if you
flash your badge at the front door.” So I’d be willing to bet none
of them”—he pointed at the photos—“are regulars here.”

Invite only.
Something about that
triggered a memory, but I couldn’t quite recall it, and I didn’t
have the luxury of time to worry about it now. I would have to come
back to the thought later and try to figure it out.

“Anything else?” he asked, growing more
annoyed and impatient as he looked beyond me and at his growing
line of patrons.

I didn’t like the tone he took with me, and
I fought back the sudden urge to reach across the bar and slam his
head onto the countertop. This impulse opened up a floodgate of
images, and I visualized the stream of blood pouring from his mouth
and nose. It was so vivid, I could almost smell the coppery
undertones to it—feel the warmth of it on the tips of my
fingers—and the sound of him pleading for me to stop was like music
to my ears…

Shocked and horrified at myself for this
unexpected and extremely violent train of thought, I inhaled
deeply, drawing in another lungful of the pungent air, and
swallowed thickly. That was when I realized that the smell of blood
wasn’t just a figment of my overactive—and disturbing—imagination.
It was in the air. It was faint, but was there.

“Is there anything else I can help you with,
Detective? Or can I get back to work? There’s a line forming.”

Distracted by the smell of blood, my eyes
wandered from him, but I was wholly aware of his question. “That’s
fine. I’ll need your name and number in case I have any more
follow-up questions.”

“Of course. I’m Adam, and I’ll grab you a
card with my information.” His attitude shifted back to helpful,
and I briefly questioned his mental stability before a new trace of
copper invaded my nose, making my mouth water…

What the hell is wrong with me? I find
that smell
appealing
?
No. It wasn’t actually the smell
that made me react this way. It was something else that appealed to
me. Something I still couldn’t put my finger on.

The bartender—Adam—handed me his card, and I
slipped the gray rectangle into my pocket along with the pictures.
“Thanks,” I said listlessly, following the coppery notes in the
air. I made it to the velvet curtains, where the scent was
overwhelmingly intense, and I was preparing to step through them
when a thin man, about my height and dressed all in black, slipped
into my view.

“Hey, baby,” he said, his voice scratchy and
his breath smelling of booze. “You wanna head back there and
party?”

When he flashed his teeth and I saw the two
pointy canines, something inside of me snapped like a rubberband
that had been pulled too taut. Every muscle in my body tensed
again, and a low rumble formed in my belly…

Wait. Am I growling?

“Come on, babe.” He reached out and grabbed
me around my wrist, leading me forward and pulling the curtain back
slightly. “I promise you an unforgettable experience.”

The minute he touched me, alarm bells blared
in my head, screaming at me that this guy was a threat to my
existence. The rush of adrenaline building outside earlier
exploded, flooding my veins, and the tension in my muscles released
like tightly wound springs as I yanked my arm from his hold.
Everything happened so fast after that. I spun around, my elbow
connecting with his nose, and before I could process what happened,
my hand was around his neck, and I had him pressed against the
wall.

Blood poured from his nose, and one of his
pointy “fangs” was missing as he wept. I breathed heavily, a
scratchy noise escaping my throat with each exhale, and I was only
vaguely aware of the shocked bar patrons that surrounded us to take
in the show. Using only my eyes, I glanced around to see their
wide-eyed stares, and I heard the low murmurs as they wondered who
the nut-job holding their brother off the ground was.

Off…the…ground?

Slowly, my eyes fell to the floor, and sure
enough, the guy’s feet were more than a foot from the ground,
jerking wildly.
How did I…? When did I…?
Confusion filled my
head, pushing out the previous urge to teach this guy a lesson, but
before I could figure out what was going on with me, David stepped
out from behind the thick curtains.

“Hey. What did you find out?” he asked
before noticing the man pinned to the wall at my mercy.

Horrified, I dropped the thin creep and
stepped back, looking at my hands as if I didn’t even recognize
them as my own. “I-I’m fine.”

Clearly worried, David grabbed my upper arms
and forced our gazes to lock. “Brooke? What the hell happened out
here?”

The haze cleared the minute I stared into
his wide blue eyes, and I looked at the man on the ground, holding
his neck and surrounded by his alarmed friends. “I was coming to
find you, and that guy grabbed my wrist. I don’t know what
happened, but I snapped. I-I wasn’t thinking.”

A fire erupted in David’s eyes, and he shot
a menacing glare down at the guy I attacked. Instead of beating
this guy senseless, though, David pulled me off to the side,
cradling my face protectively. It was sweet. “Are you okay?”

My head bobbed slowly. “Yeah. I think it was
probably just a normal fight-or-flight instinct. And I don’t think
he was really going to hurt me. He probably thought I was one
of…them, I guess.” Pausing, I replayed the last couple of minutes
since David showed up and registered his original question. “Oh, I
talked to the bartender. He’s never seen the victims before. Says
the club is exclusive and all the people are regulars. I got his
name and number in case I think of anything else. How about you?
What’s behind the curtain? The wizard?”

The tension left his body, and David
chuckled. “Not quite. It’s a private room where the dancers go with
patrons and they engage in…” he trailed off, pausing to try to find
a way to explain. “Illicit activities.”

“Illicit?”

He nodded once. “There’s dancing,
stripping—”

The lingering essence of blood in the air
was the furthest thing from my mind, and David sure as hell found a
way to get my full, undivided attention now. “Stripping?” I
interrupted, jealousy haloing my tone as an inexplicable surge of
anger washed through me. “So, I sent you into a room where women
were taking their clothes off?”

“Among other things,” he said, piquing my
curiosity and ignoring my unnecessary attitude. “Let’s just say,
they take this vampire thing seriously.”

“Meaning?”

David hesitated, but only briefly. “I caught
a couple back there. The woman was on her knees, sucking his—”

Not quite ready for
that
visual, I
held up my hand. “Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” I cried, clenching my eyes and
shaking my head. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“—wrist,” he concluded with a bit of a
laugh, completely bypassing my assumption and making me feel like a
total ass.

“Oh.” Then what he said actually clicked.
“Wait, his
wrist
? Why?”

I knew the answer before he replied, because
the smell still hung in the air like smog, but he said it anyway.
“Blood.”

And I was right back to being repulsed…and
angry. I was so angry, I acted without thinking—again—moving to
push past David so I could go back there and…and…Quite honestly,
what I visualized doing once back there was even more extreme than
what happened with the man out here, and it frightened me a little.
But I still had to do something.

“Where are you going?”

I stared at him like he’d lost his mind.
“What do you mean
‘where are you going?’
I’m going back
there to stop it!”

“It’s handled,” David assured me calmly.
“I’ve spoken to the club owner. He’s shutting it down for the night
and has agreed to come in for questioning.”

“Sure he is.” Yes. I was skeptical. “And
what about the couple you found? You just left them?”

“Brooke, calm down. Really think about
that.” I searched his eyes and immediately realized I was
overreacting. “Of course I put a stop to it. I asked them about our
vics, and they told me they’d never seen them here before,
either…”

I was about to vent my frustrations over
hitting another dead end when David continued. “But then they told
me that they were both new to the, um
coven
, and that I
should talk to the owner. Donovan. I spoke with him for a bit,
explained what we were doing here, and asked if he’d mind coming
down for questioning. He was more than willing to comply.”

Satisfied, I smiled. “Well then, I guess
we’d better not keep him waiting.”

Back at the station, David and I sat in the
interrogation room across from the nightclub owner, Donovan Miller.
Like the other club-goers, he was dressed in mostly black, from his
shoulder-length hair right down to the nail polish on his
fingernails, and he really had that smoky-eye technique down. If I
wore more eye makeup, I’d probably ask him for some pointers.

“So, Mr. Miller—”

“Donovan,” he interrupted, looking up at me
with a sly smile that showed off his pointed teeth. “Mr. Miller is
my father.”

“Donovan,” I repeated, trying not to be
repulsed by his abundantly obvious attempt at flirtation. “Tell me
about your club. From what we’ve seen and heard, it sounds like it
has the potential to breed dangerous situations.”

“On the contrary,” he responded calmly. “I
lead the only
coven
”—he spoke the word as though insulted
that I called it a ‘club’—“in this whole damn city that’s
exclusive. I don’t let just anybody in, and any blood-sharing that
goes on is one hundred percent safe. And consensual.”

“Blood-sharing?” I repeated, disgusted.
“Care to elaborate?”

He chuckled. It sounded dark and menacing
and put me on edge. “You see, Detective Leighton, when male and
female vampires are attracted to one another, it can lead to sexual
encounters. Oftentimes, the sharing of each other’s blood can
heighten the experience.”

Though difficult, I managed to keep myself
from gagging in front of Donovan. “So they drink each other’s
blood? And you think this is
safe
?”

Flopping back in his chair, he dropped his
hands to his lap. “You people would never understand.” I looked at
David, who appeared just as confounded as I was, and then back at
Donovan. “Blood screening is mandatory before I welcome anyone into
my coven, and there’s regular testing that goes on quarterly. I
understand the risks of the lifestyle we choose to lead, and I want
to promise a safe place for us to exist as we were meant to. I’ll
give you copies of anything you need, but I assure you, everything
that goes on within my coven is one hundred percent
consensual.”

“Thank you, we’d appreciate that, actually,”
I informed him before moving onto my next question. “Has anyone
ever died during this…blood-sharing ritual?”

“Never. We never take more than we need,” he
responded honestly. “And I’ve never heard of it happening anywhere
else, either.”

“You’re certain?” David spoke up.

Donovan sighed, sitting forward again.
“Look, I heard about those victims and how they died.
Exsanguination? Draining someone entirely isn’t possible. Not
during blood-sharing, at least.” He released a single, mocking
laugh. “Was that what made you think it was vampires?”