Sara Humphreys - Tall, Dark, and Vampire

“Not that I’m looking to feed on people,” he said quietly. “I’m not, but why don’t you want me doing live feeds?”

“Blood memories,” Olivia said as they stepped up to the small storefront with the blue neon lettering that read: Jerry’s Massage Shack. “Anyway, Jerry will not only have food for us but, hopefully some information as well. He’s my version of an informant. He’s hooked into everything in this city and hears about all the shady shit that goes on in the vamp world. If anyone has gotten wind of who’s turning these rogues, it’s him. I tried to touch base with him the other night, but he wasn’t around. Hopefully he’s here tonight. Anyway—” She sighed wearily. “No live feeds, no blood memories.”

They stood for a moment on the sidewalk, and he took stock of the lighter pedestrian traffic on this side street. If he and Olivia were walking the streets like regular folk, then he presumed the rogues would do the same.

“What, dare I ask, are blood memories?”

Her features hardened, making her look older than she ever had. Her brilliant green eyes, rimmed with sadness, looked at him intently.

“When we feed on a living person, it’s a direct line into their memories. Their blood and their memories become a part of us—forever.” She frowned, and her voice quivered. “We can’t pick and choose what we get, and believe me, there are some memories you simply do not want.”

“Is that how you knew about my relationship with Miranda?” he asked.

“Yes.” She stuffed her hands in her coat pockets. “That and more. Your memories only confirmed my suspicions about you and what a good man you are.” She paused, and he could tell she was carefully choosing her words. “I saw how much you loved Tom. I felt your love for him, and I know he was like the father you never had. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save him.”

Doug’s throat thickened with emotion.

“You’re right,” he said gruffly. “I did blame you at first, and I was furious you saved me but not Tom, and turned me into a monster.”

Olivia said nothing as she listened to him intently.

“Over the past twenty-four hours I’ve been reminded that being a monster is a choice, Liv. During my ten years working homicide, I saw humans make the choice to hurt, destroy, and kill every single day. They chose to be monsters and vampires are no different. Some of them, like you, Pete, and the girls at the club, rise above your basest instincts to embrace kindness, family, and friendship. Then there are guys like Augustus and whoever is making these rogues. Human or vampire, there will always be those who revel in destruction, choosing to be monsters.”

“Thank you.” Olivia’s mouth lifted, and her eyes crinkled at the corners briefly, but sadness still lingered. “We do have monsters inside of us, Doug. Make no mistake about that, but the best way to keep it at bay is to avoid live feeds. They’re like a drug—a high. The more you do it, the more you’ll want it, and the harder it is to stop. Believe me.”

She tugged open the door to the massage parlor, and he followed her inside. Her words haunted him. We do have monsters inside of us . He shuddered and lifted the collar of his coat, a human gesture he might have done if a cold wind blew against his neck. It wasn’t the wind he was trying to shield himself from, but the truth. What if he couldn’t keep the monster inside under control?

They sat in the rickety wood and wicker chairs of the gaudy waiting room, and Doug did his usual scan of his surroundings, trying to keep his mind off the nagging hunger. The walls were red velvet, and the rug was royal blue shag, reminiscent of the mid-seventies, but somehow it looked brand-new. Olivia spoke to the pretty girl at the desk, and Doug could tell by her scent that she was a vampire.

“So.” He leaned closer and whispered in her ear. “How do you know this guy?”

“He ran a brothel in Vegas when I was a sentry there.” She shrugged. “He relocated here about thirty years ago, and he’s running the same game.”

A shriek interrupted the awkward quiet of the waiting room, and Doug looked up to see an older, diminutive Japanese gentleman wearing a black and gold kimono and a wide grin scurry out through the curtain of beads, which undoubtedly led to the massage rooms. This had to be Jerry.

“Olivia, my friend.” He swept over to them, his bald head glistening under the fluorescent lights, and when he opened his arms to hug Olivia, Doug noticed that his pinky nails were long and pointed.

“Hello, Jerry,” she said as he released her. “This is my friend, Doug. He’s training to be a sentry.”

Doug shot a confused look to Olivia, and although he tried to recover quickly, old Jerry didn’t miss a trick. She should have warned Doug what cover she was going to use. Jerry looked Doug up and down with an appraising eye, and his grin widened as he stuck his hand out.

“Nice to meet you.” Doug shook his hand briefly and shifted his position protectively near Olivia.

“Right this way.” He crooked a finger to them and held open the curtain of beads. “I have just what the two of you need.”

Doug followed them through the small dark hallway lined with white doors on either side. When they reached the end of the hall, Jerry opened the last door on the right, and though Doug didn’t quite know what to expect, this wasn’t it. He thought it would be a small massage room, like many in the city, but this was more like a studio apartment.

The walls were painted with silver sparkly paint and a mirror above the leopard-print-covered bed. There was a zebra-skin rug in front of the white leather sofa, and the kitchenette along the back wall had white cabinets with door handles that looked like puckering lips.

“You like Jerry’s apartment?” he asked in a singsong voice as he shut the door securely behind them. He floated, literally floated, to the kitchenette, and the fridge opened without him even touching it.

“It’s—very you ,” Doug said as politely as possible.

“It sure is, handsome.” Jerry pulled two containers from the fridge and put them in the microwave. “So, how long you been a sentry? I only hear about Pete and Shane.” He pursed his lips, and Doug could hear him tapping his long fingernail on the counter. “I never hear about you.”

“He’s new and beginning his training. He’s not a sentry yet, but I see potential.” Olivia crossed her arms over her breasts and leveled a serious gaze at Jerry. “Now… what can you tell me about the rogue coven?”

“What you talking about, silly girl?” Jerry giggled nervously and began to wring his hands. “What rogue coven?”

The ding of the microwave went off, and the phrase saved by the bell went through Doug’s mind. Jerry may have a direct line into the vampire world, but he was a shitty liar. It was blatantly obvious that this guy knew a lot more about the rogue coven than he would have them believe.

Doug shot Olivia a look when Jerry had his back turned and shook his head. She held up her hand. I know. Her mind touched his delicately and sent a seductive wave of warmth though him. Doug simply nodded because he was rendered speechless—telepathic or otherwise.

Olivia went over to Jerry, who was puttering nervously and getting them large glasses. She watched as he poured the steaming red liquid, and Doug’s mouth watered. His fangs unsheathed, but he closed his eyes for second, willing them away, and by some fucking miracle, they retreated.

“Jerry,” she said gently, with her hand on his narrow shoulder. “You don’t have to be scared. I won’t tell anyone that you gave us information. As far as the czar and senators are concerned, you gave us some blood and sent us on our way.” She turned him, making him face her. “Now. What do you know about the rogues?”