Dave Zeltserman - Blood Crimes Book One

After shopping, they went back to Hayes’ hotel room, and she and Zach went at it as soon as the door closed behind them. Serena, her head pounding with desire, first shredded her leather pants as if they were nothing but wrapping paper, then did the same to Zach’s. It was a long time before they were done, and when they were, Zach lay on the floor with Serena mounted on top of him, his chest heaving as if it were going to explode, and her long black mane pulled in every direction as if she’d been caught in a windstorm, a wildness burning in her eyes. Hayes was lying only a few feet from them and was making a thin mewling noise as he writhed in agony. His hair had turned a stark white and his body had already grown leaner and more narrow. His head had changed also, taking on the same cat-like characteristics of every other infected vampire. Serena got off of Zach to check on Hayes.

“His bindings are threadbare,” Serena noted as she examined the cloth strips securing his wrists and ankles. “Another few minutes and he’d be breaking loose from them.”

Zach grunted an acknowledgement, then got to his knees so he could hold the PI’s wrists while Serena replaced the cloth bindings with handcuffs that she had bought at the sex store, then they did the same with Hayes’ ankles. After the PI was secured, Serena fed Hayes a pint of blood and that seemed to calm him down.

“I still don’t see why we need him,” Zach noted, his voice dripping with petulance.

Serena smiled wistfully at the other vampire, but didn’t bother with an explanation. It was always like this whenever she added a new member to their family. For whatever reason Zach had a difficult time with change, especially if it meant sharing her affections. She motioned for him to take a seat on a cushioned chair so she could join him on his lap. While they sat like that she played with his spent and limp penis. Even after humping more times than two caged rabbits, it didn’t take long to get him hard again. There was both a longing and a pleading in Zach’s eye; he wanted her again, but he wasn’t sure if he had anything left inside for another go around. She showed some mercy and left it alone. Instead she called Wilfred on his cell phone. After some pleasantries, she asked whether he’d had any luck finding the Blood Dragons.

“Not yet. We’ve been driving all over this hick city, but nothing yet.” Wilfred paused, then asked, “You and Zach have been fucking like crazy, haven’t you?”

“We’ve been christening every square inch of our hotel room,” Serena said, laughing. “Darling, how’d you know?”

“I could hear it in your voice. You don’t know how jealous I am right now. Or how hard.”

“I can imagine. Please do be careful walking about. You don’t want to be poking any holes in walls.” Her laughter died down. “Have you found anything about these Blood Dragons?”

“A little. Stefan and I have been going to nightclubs and spreading some money around. They’re a biker gang, and from what I’ve been told, very particular in what they ride. Only Harleys. They also sell drugs. Meth, heroin, acid. Stefan’s at one of the bars waiting to be hooked up with one of them for a drug buy. Right now I’m riding around looking for any bars with Harleys out front. Oh, and guess what? They all have the coolest tattoos to identify themselves. Skulls wrapped in barbed wire and flying dragons. We’ve got to get ourselves some. It would be the rage back home.”

“That biker-type Jim was feeding on when I hit him with the limo…” Serena pondered out loud. “I was wondering why Jim would be doing something so brazen like that right out in the open.”

“I was wondering about that too. So now we know. The guy he was feeding on had to’ve been a member of these Blood Dragons. If I remember right half his face was gone. Jim must’ve been trying to keep him alive so he could get information out of him.”

“We had one right under our noses. What a shame. Do you remember seeing this Blood Dragon afterwards?”

“Unfortunately, no. With all the commotion I didn’t bother looking for him.”

“Neither did I. Oh well, so we’ll find another one of them.”

“Probably Stefan before me.”

“My money’s on you, Wilfred. Keep doing what you’re doing. It all sounds very clever.”

Serena blew him a kiss over the phone and hung up. Zach was staring stone-faced, watching. “How about me?” he said. Serena caressed Zach’s cheek as she thought about it. “I’d like you to drive around and see if you can sniff Jim out,” she said. “If you do find him, don’t go after him alone. Jim is too dangerous and resourceful for that. Call me, and we’ll handle him together.”

Zach nodded, hurt showing in his eyes over Serena’s assessment of his abilities. “How about you?” he asked.

“I’d better stay here,” she said, making a sour face. “I’m expecting company later tonight.”

“From whom?”

She sighed, her face for a moment ageing to something closer to death. “The same person who tried calling me earlier this evening,” she said.

“I don’t think so. How would he find you here?”

“Oh, he’ll find me. He’s very clever that way. And it would be best if I were alone when he does. My guess is he’s going to be a grouchy bear. To say the least.”

Zach nodded, still showing some hurt, and lifted Serena off of him so he could get dressed. He put on a pair of Hugo Boss jeans, a silk shirt, and a smart lightweight calfskin jacket that Serena had bought him at Bally’s.

“I’m going to find Jim,” he promised her. “Count on it.”

“If you say so, I believe you. And you’ll call me when you do?”

“Of course.”

He left the hotel room, and Serena gathered up her ruined clothing and took out a new skintight peach-colored leather outfit from her suitcase to peel over her body. She wanted to look her best for Metcalf. It had been a while, and nothing was better than angry sex-or as would be the case with Metcalf when he showed, psychotic rage-filled sex.

Last call had passed leaving a small smattering of regulars and hanger-ons sitting around and nursing their drinks; some simply not wanting to go home, others looking for an excuse to mingle with the Bon Jovi cover band that had played earlier-although the band did mix in a few of their original songs. The four members of the band were all in their thirties, wore muscle shirts and torn jeans and styled their hair in the same sort of shaggy, teased manner of the members of Aerosmith. They were joking and talking loudly, trying to wind down with bourbons and draft beers after a lively three-hour set, and four young skinny girls who had come to see them-all of whom looked underage and were wearing tight tee shirts and either micro-miniskirts or shorts that were cut high up on the thigh, sat with them. There was no mistaking what these girls wanted, and their body language spoke loud and clear as they made sure to touch the band members knees and bare arms every chance they had. Jim observed all this blankly, his legs jiggling and his knees bouncing up and down. He turned his stare back at Pete. Jim had been there over five hours waiting for the bar owner, Charlie Drum, to show. During the course of the night he had Pete leave half a dozen messages for Drum, telling him it was urgent that he show up at the bar. The last message was left only a half ago, and at Jim’s suggestion, included something about there being a lot of money at stake.

“I think you should call him again,” Jim said.

Pete shrugged and tossed a couple of more aspirin in his mouth and chewed them slowly. Over the course of the night his skin color had grown waxy, his eyes pinkish. He looked feverish. He wasn’t doing too well with his broken hand, and had been dropping glasses throughout the night and struggling with the simplest bar activity.