Read Blood Work Online

Authors: L.J. Hayward

Tags: #vampire, #action, #werewolf, #mystery suspense, #dark and dangerous

Blood Work

BLOOD WORK
Night Call: Book
One
L.J.
Hayward
***
Smashwords
Edition
Copyright 2014 L.J. Hayward
***
Smashwords
Edition, License Notes
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ISBN
978-0-9925026-1-4
Table Of
Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Afterword

About the Author

Sneak Peak

Chapter 1

My name’s Matt Hawkins and I kill
monsters for a living. Slay and pay.

Werewolves,
trolls, the occasional ghoul that gets a bit too big for its grave;
but basically, whatever nasty critter crosses my path. Mostly, I
kill vampires. While I’d made something of a living out of it, I
don’t even need the promise of cash to take down a vampire. Sure,
it’s a nice bonus, but vampires are my personal crusade.

So when I get
a call about a mob of silent, violence-inclined teenagers harassing
a place of business, I know it’s not just a bunch of emo kids
acting out.

“They’re
back,” Barry all but shouted as I answered my mobile.

A sting of
excitement mingled with a touch of fear stabbed through my guts.
Perfect timing. Though I did have to wonder why Mercy hadn’t
contacted me first.

“What are they
doing?” I asked, splitting my attention between the call and the
doors of the main entrance to Jupiter’s Hotel and Casino.

“What are they
doing?” Barry repeated, his voice rising several octaves. “They’re
ruining my business, Hawkins! That’s what they’re doing. Third time
in the last week they’ve come around and terrorised my
customers.”

“Ruining is a
bit extreme, isn’t it?” I snuck another glance at the doors.

The front wall
was glass from floor to high ceiling. Bright lights flooded the
area both inside and out, dazzling the punters before they even set
eyes on the rows of pokies and clusters of green velvet-lined
tables. Cars, taxis and limos came and went, ferrying people to and
from. There were those coming to visit the bars and buffet or the
casino, and hotel guests leaving to explore the Gold Coast
nightlife.

Then there was
me. Neither coming nor going, not dressed for either a night on the
sleaze in a bar or losing my cash at the tables. I just...
lingered. Loitered. Hung around. Of course the security guys were
going to think I was up to No Good.

Damn Roberts.
If only he would appear so I could grab my stuff and get the hell
out of here.

The bouncers
of Jupiter’s had a bit of a reputation, but what bouncers don’t?
Sure, they take their Zero Tolerance policy very seriously, and
sure, they’ve been known to come down hard on folks who take their
fun just a little bit too far, but I couldn’t really blame them for
eyeing me with suspicion. I knew I was out of place, but in my
defence, it was a place I didn’t exactly want to be in. I don’t do
well in crowds, especially in crowds like those at the casino. A
lot of people don’t. At least, that’s what my therapist keeps
telling me. No matter how Doc Campbell justified it, my dislike of
rowdy, close groups was what kept me outside and waiting, instead
of going in and hunting.

“No, it’s
not,” Barry snapped in my ear. “These mongrels have already scared
off half my customers tonight, and they’ve only been here two
minutes. You promised me you’d take care of this the next time they
showed up.”

The security
guys were busy watching two girls in tight minis and absurdly high
heels totter past, so I took a chance and emerged from my
half-concealed position behind a palm tree across the driveway. I
tried for a casual saunter along the side of the drive, attempting
to look like I was waiting impatiently for someone, which I was,
but conveying an impression of honesty is hard when you know
someone is looking at you with doubt.

One of the
bouncers looked in my direction. I laughed and turned, making sure
he saw the phone against my ear.

“It’s not a
laughing matter, Hawkins!” Barry was getting frantic. “I’m paying
you good money to clean these freaks out of my place.”

“Look, don’t
worry. My partner’s at your place already.” The bouncer narrowed
his eyes at me, hand reaching for the earpiece of his radio. My
time was up. “I gotta go, Barry. I promise I’ll be there in ten
minutes.”

“Wait, wait!
You have a partner? Where is he?”

I smiled
grimly. “Yes, I do and
she’s
there, don’t worry. She’ll keep
them under surveillance.”

“Surveillance
isn’t what I’m paying you for.” There was the distinct sound of
Barry’s teeth grinding. “Where are you? Why aren’t you here? You
said you would deal with this!”

Closing my
eyes, I counted silently to ten. When I took the job with Barry I
knew he’d be a pain. Whiny little arse—

I cut off that
train of thought. It wasn’t Barry’s fault. He was the innocent
bystander in this mess and it was my job to make sure he—and his
customers—didn’t get hurt.

“I will be
there very shortly. I’m just picking up some equipment. Don’t—”

Panic. But I
was too late. Barry’s squeak of surprise and terror cut me off.

“Now they’ve
gone upstairs! Oh my God, oh my God. I’m going to get sued and lose
everything. All because of—”

“Barry! Stop
it. Listen to me, Barry!”

My sharp,
commanding words caught the other bouncer’s attention as well. The
two big, fit men exchanged meaningful looks, then started across
the drive toward me.

“Wh... what?”
Barry stammered in shock.

“Let them go
up there. Trust me. It’ll keep them contained until I get there.
See you soon.” I hung up before he could splutter more objections.
Slipping the phone into the back pocket of my cargo pants, I turned
to meet the bouncers, mind furiously going through all sorts of
excuses I could come up with for my behaviour. Yeah, none exactly
sprang out at me.

“Matt! So
sorry to keep you waiting.”

The loud
greeting stopped the bouncers half way across the drive. They
turned and saw a guy hurrying toward us.

In my black
cargo pants, T-shirt and camo jacket, I didn’t look the part of
Jupiter’s preferred custom, but thankfully Roberts did. He was the
perfect image of upwardly mobile, successful
business-ness—meticulously styled dark hair that suited both the
boardroom and a nightclub, smart grey suit, silk shirt, a tie that
looked nothing special to me but apparently was and a black
briefcase that probably had a snazzy name like
attaché case
or something.

“I was about
to
leave
,” I said pointedly.

Passing the
bouncers, Roberts ignored them as if they were beneath his notice.
“Yeah, thanks for waiting. I got caught up with some clients. Come
on, let’s blow this snake pit, hit somewhere classy, eh?”

Lips curling
in displeasure, the bouncers glared at Roberts, suddenly not liking
the look of him at all. I hid a smirk and fell into step beside my
friend. We headed down the drive toward the bridge that linked the
casino island with the rest of Broadbeach.

“Do you have
it?” I asked when we were out of earshot.

Dodging a
group of young guys heading up to the casino, Roberts patted his
briefcase. “Right here. What’s the rush, anyway?”

“Barry
called,” I said in my deadly serious voice.

“Ooh. I
understand. A bit on the dramatic side, was he?”

“With good
reason. They’re back. I really need to sort this out tonight. If I
leave them much longer, they’ll only get harder to track and
kill.”

We hit the
bridge and just on the far side, parked highly illegally, was my
black, late model Holden Monaro. I let out a little sigh of relief
that it hadn’t been towed.

“Great,”
Roberts said as we reached my car. “I’ll stay in the car while you
clean up Bazza’s mess.”

I stopped and
stared at him. “What?”

Flashing the
cheeky grin that got him so much female interest, Roberts said,
“Didn’t I tell you? My car’s in having a new stereo installed. I
need a lift home.”

Sighing, I
opened the boot. Hand out for the briefcase, I said, “A lift will
cost you. You’re not waiting in the car. You can come in and deal
with Barry for me.”

Roberts didn’t
let the case go. “Really? Don’t I already do enough for you? It’s
your business, mate, shouldn’t you be in charge of client
care?”

“Do enough for
me?” I tugged on the case. “Come on, man. You, what? Hand out a few
cards for me.”

“Okay, yeah, I
hand out your business cards, but when that’s the entirety of your
advertising plan, it’s a pretty big favour I’m doing you.” He
didn’t let go.

“If you had it
your way, I’d have a full page ad in the Yellow Pages. How great
would that look? Having troll trouble? Is Granddad’s corpse being
desecrated by a ghoul? Had your blood sucked? Night Call, for
things that go bump in the dark. Yeah, that won’t get me laughed
out of the city. Now, let go. Barry’s waiting.” And because I knew
it would spur Roberts into some sort of action, I added, “Mercy’s
already there, waiting for me.”

Roberts let
the case go as if it were a snake. “She’s there alone?”

“Not alone,” I
said, heartlessly. “I’m sure the place is jumping. All those kids
having a great time, she’ll love it.”

While Roberts
gaped at me in silent horror, I laid the case in the boot and
popped it open. Lying on a rumpled mess of papers and loose pens
advertising Roberts Technical Solutions, was my Desert Eagle. I
picked it up and felt much better with the gun’s familiar,
reassuring shape in my hand. Turning it over, I checked the slide
and the laser-sight attached to the underside of the barrel and
ejected the magazine. Tossing the spent mag into a corner of the
boot, I then pulled over my box of spares. Filled with customised
ammunition, I slapped one home, chambered the first round, ejected
the mag, replaced the round and put it all back together with a
satisfying clack. Weapon ready, I tucked it into the back of my
pants, under my jacket. Then I filled the pockets of my pants with
spare mags.

Roberts
finally found his voice. “You let her go there on her own?” There
was a tight, strangled quality to his voice I’d become familiar
with during our friendship. I heard it quite a lot. As cocky as he
could be at times, Roberts wasn’t really cut out for my sort of
business.

“It’s okay,” I
said. “She’s ready for it.”

Backing up,
Roberts shook his head. “If you say so. It might not be your
funeral, but it’ll be someone’s...” With that comment, he went
around to the passenger door and got in.

I closed the
boot and stood for a moment, contemplating his words. He was just
being overly reactive. Sure, it was Mercy’s first outing without me
constantly looking over her shoulder, and she was being awfully
silent, but she was ready for it. It was beyond time, honestly. I’d
coddled her long enough. If my plan was ever going to work, I
needed to step back, let Mercy have her space and see if she could
fly on her own.

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