Laurie London - Embraced by Blood

In a hotel suite they’d shared once, she’d walked toward him in much the same manner. Her jaw set, her eyes determined, focused. Except then, she’d been naked and focused on him. He’d waited for her on the bed, positioned as he was now, a hand behind his head, one knee bent, and the other hand around the base of his erection. Her hips had moved the same way, back and forth, back and forth, her blond hair skimming her shoulders—although last night her hair had seemed longer, pulled back into a high ponytail, the ends reaching to the middle of her shoulder blades.

He closed his eyes and was back in the hotel again. Her breasts bounced as she climbed onto the bed, inviting him to come play with them. And he did, for hours, while they made love and he nestled his—

Oh for chrissake . His cock was as hard as a baseball bat. Again. Kicking off the sheets till they bunched at the foot of the couch, he got up and took a quick shower. No use dreaming about something that could never happen. Things with Lily had been good while they lasted. Period.

Ten minutes later, he grabbed his laptop. If he wasn’t going to make progress on his house tonight, might as well make some progress on something else.

After a few botched attempts at playing Hollow Grave, he came to the conclusion that he at least needed a game controller, if not a few other accessories. He wasn’t about to ask Cordell because Santiago would find out and, if that happened, the guy would be all over his ass. He’d claim Alfonso did give a damn. No, Santiago didn’t need to know. If Alfonso found the location of the party, he’d inform Jackson and deal with Santiago then. But if he didn’t, at least he wouldn’t be giving the guy any false hopes that he actually cared.

A short time later, with his laptop tucked under his arm, he entered the computer store and headed to the help desk.

“What do I need to buy in order to play video games on this thing?”

“That depends,” said the kid behind the counter. He wore a name tag that said, I’m Kenny. Ask me, I know. “What game are you interested in playing?”

“Why does it matter? Just get me a game controller and a headset.”

“Depending on your laptop’s capabilities, it might not have the best graphics card for gaming. Or enough RAM. Or decent speakers. You might need a new computer in order to—”

Alfonso held up a hand. “No. I need to play it on this.” The laptop had been configured to make his online movements virtually impossible to trace. He certainly didn’t want to leave a trail; he worried enough about his blood assassin finding him without laying down a bunch of virtual bread crumbs.

“All right,” Kenny said slowly as he scratched his head. “How much memory you got? Are you interested in playing first-person shooter games, strategy, RPGs …?”

Oh for chrissake . Alfonso opened the laptop and typed in the URL of the Hollow Grave website. The screen went black for a few moments before animated trickles of blood dripped downward, and the sounds of blowing wind and a pipe organ echoed through the tiny speakers. “This game. What do I need to play it?”

Kenny’s face lit up as if he’d just stepped into Disneyland. “Dude, that’s totally sick. It’s like the forest in The Blair Witch Project . And the haunted house. What’s this called—Hollow Grave? How’d you hear about it, anyway? I’m a gamer and I’ve never heard of it.”

“From a friend. Now what?”

Kenny cracked his knuckles and excitedly rubbed his palms on his jeans. “Do you mind if I check out the system requirements to play the game?” With his fingers poised over the keyboard and his heart beating fast and loud enough for Alfonso to hear, he looked inquisitively at Alfonso.

“Go for it.”

Kenny’s hands flew over the keys and in a few seconds, he was smiling. “You’re lucky. Your machine is totally kick-ass. With just a few add-ons, I think you’ll be in business.”

He soon had the laptop outfitted with a controller, a headset and a pair of external speakers. Anxious to get home to start playing, Alfonso quickly paid and threw Kenny an extra fifty bucks.

“Thanks, kid,” he called over his shoulder.

Before he got to the door, Kenny ran around in front of him, the money clutched in his hand, face flushed, eyes wide. “Want me to help you with the game? You know, set up your user name and stuff.”

“Nope. I’m golden. Just needed this stuff to get me going.”

“Are you sure, mister? I could show you some tips, get you started. It doesn’t seem like you’ve played many games before and I’ve played a lot.”

Alfonso took a deep breath and considered the offer. The tile delivery should arrive tomorrow, he reasoned, and after that, he wouldn’t have much time to waste learning how to play Hollow Grave. Alfonso could just wipe the kid’s memory clear of the website when they were done.

“All right then. Let’s see how fast you work.”

Soon they were situated in The Garage, the store’s gaming lounge, the screen open on the table before them.

“You’re going to need a screen name,” Kenny began.

“How about BlackNight?” He had to devise a new persona, someone who was looking to party at the Night of Wilding.

“Lame,” said Kenny. “Bloodsucker?”

Alfonso stifled a smile. “Too clichéd. There are probably many with that name.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right. SoulEater?”

“Maybe. BloodySunday?”

“Ooh, I like it. It’s perfect.” Kenny held out his hand. “Now, we’re going to need a credit card.”

Ten minutes later, BloodySunday was the newest user on the Hollow Grave website, complete with a skeleton avatar dressed as a military operative, three starter grenades and a full syringe of liquid power, also known as Bleed.

“Now what do I do?” Alfonso couldn’t even get his character to move out of the foyer of the haunted house.

“Here, can I try?” Kenny twisted the laptop toward him slightly and with a few clicks, BloodySunday grabbed a knife inside a small cobweb-infested box sitting on a hall table, slit the throat of a zombie who stumbled out of the dining room, filled a second syringe with Bleed and headed down a long flight of stairs.

He glanced over at the redheaded kid sitting on the edge of the seat, his heart beating loudly enough to make Alfonso’s mouth water. That kind of enthusiasm for adrenaline-induced excitement reminded him of when he’d been a spirited youthling centuries ago. He and his friends had sought out anything that produced crazy, mind-numbing thrills. Wild rides on horseback through Spanish hill country at night. Masquerading as swordsmen for hire. Tormenting human grave robbers, which in turn had sparked rumors about the existence of vampires. That stunt had landed him in all sorts of trouble with his parents. Too bad he hadn’t obeyed his father, who’d been newly appointed to the Governing Council. Instead he’d chosen to frequent the gaming houses and brothels of Paris that summer, where nothing was more seductive than a pile of notes, the écarté tables and beautiful women well-versed in the art of male pleasures. He sighed and turned his attention back to the game.

They continued playing and a short time later, a message popped up in the corner of the screen, congratulating BloodySunday on his progress. Not only had he gotten past the Newly Anointed level, he’d achieved Grave Crawler status, which gave him access to the forums where players shared special tips and tricks, and could make teams. He was on track to learn the location of the Night of Wilding party.

Which meant it was time to go. He’d post something in the forums about wanting to party when he got home. He pushed back from the table and faked a yawn. “I don’t know how you guys do it, playing all these games, staring at a tiny screen all day. My eyes are about to pop out of my head and my ass is numb. Thanks again, kid.” He’d have flipped him another fifty—he really couldn’t have gotten this far on his own without getting completely frustrated—but didn’t want to draw more attention to himself.