Spirit Sanguine (18 page)

Stan and Ray arrived with Dill, darkening Gabe’s mood considerably. As far as Gabe was concerned, Dill was a trouble magnet. All the vamps became attentive the moment Dill stepped into the bar. Seeing the two older vampires with him, they kept a respectful distance but didn’t stop watching him from the corners of their eyes. Stan and Ray had good reason not to let him out of their sights. One of them even went with him to the bathroom. Especially to the bathroom.

Jade, on the other hand, in her skintight red dress, attracted attention from the regular customers.

“She stands out, doesn’t she?” Joe practically drooled.

“Like a ketchup stain on a wedding dress,” Harvey snarked before Gabe could voice his own opinion.

Aside from Harvey, Rico gave Jade a contemptuous glare too, but then he treated Gabe, Harvey, and the rest of the obviously gay contingent the same. Evidently, vampires could be bigoted too. Rico himself didn’t blend well with the locale either.

“How did you make him show up?” Gabe asked Harvey.

“I didn’t. Ray did. I’ve told you, he knows almost everyone in town.”

Denton’s arrival sent another ripple through the vamps, but not a pleased one. Gabe noticed the repulsed looks and the way Denton snatched his gaze away when it accidentally strayed onto a vamp. The distaste was mutual. So Gabe made sure to make Denton feel extra welcome, wedging Denton between him and Joe by the bar. He ignored the irritated flash in Harvey’s eyes, as much as his own sense of guilt.

Discreetly, Gabe had a word with Gustav, asking the vamp to look after Denton and make sure nobody messed with him.

“He ain’t right,” Gustav said in hushed tones.

“I know, but Augustine would be cross if anything happened to him.”

“Don’t worry, none of
us
here want to touch the dead guy, and I’ll make sure nobody else does either.”

“Thanks, Gustav.” It pained Gabe to be so chummy with the vampire.

“Right,” Gustav replied and turned away.

From the sound of it, he had reached the limit of his friendliness too.

The collection of ill-fitting patrons and Gabe’s discomfort became complete with the arrival of Frank. He’d obviously dressed down for the occasion in jeans and a polo shirt, but even the way he carried himself put him apart. It didn’t appear to bother him at all—the dirty looks simply bounced off him. He greeted Stan and Ray with casual familiarity and ignored most everyone else. Gabe received a congenial nod. Or was it condescending?

The so-called party lurched along like a creature from a Sam Raimi movie. As the guest of honor, Gabe made some effort at mingling, but it wasn’t his strong suit. He had a curt exchange with Rico, an innuendo-laden one with Jade, and traded painfully civil words with Frank.

Harvey, on the other hand, flitted around effortlessly, urging everyone to try Sanguine. They did. The vampires showed pleased surprise and kept ordering it, while the regular customers drank it because it was free. Officially, all the Sanguine was on the house for the night. Unofficially, Harvey paid for it, although Gabe knew Harvey got a deep discount. Even Gabe kept swilling the too-sweet stuff as a show of support.

After disentangling himself from an unwieldy and one-sided conversation about local politics with one of the regular customers, Gabe shuffled back to his own spot by the bar. He found Denton in deep discussion with Joe. As far as he could tell, the topic was cars. Not interested in the subject, Gabe hoisted himself up on a stool and watched Harvey, who was laughing heartily at something Frank had said. As he talked, Frank touched Harvey’s arm several times. The contacts were always brief, yet too intimate. Gabe wished he could stake Frank—if not in the heart, at least in the kidneys.

Denton bumping into him woke Gabe from his hostile thoughts. Denton apologized, then wandered off in the direction of the bathroom. Gabe waited a couple of minutes before pushing himself off the bar. He casually walked to the short, dark hallway leading to the bathrooms, then past them, out to the alley.

Denton waited for him, leaning against the brick wall. “I got you alone at last.”

“So, what’s the verdict?” Gabe asked.

“You were right. And now you owe me two.”

Gabe nodded. He put a hand on Denton’s shoulder and gently squeezed. “Stick around for a little longer. I’ll drive you home.”

“No thanks. It’s past my bedtime. Unless you want to tuck me in.” He arched a studded eyebrow.

Gabe snatched his hand back.

“It was a joke. Sheesh. There’s too much tension in the air tonight. Your ghost’s flickering like a bug zapper.” He stared into the empty air beside Gabe, then shook his head and pushed himself off the wall. “I’m off. Smell you later.” He flashed a crooked grin at Gabe and strolled away.

Gabe ambled back inside alone and straight into a seething Harvey.

“Where’s your freaky friend?” Harvey’s eyes shot daggers.

“He left.”

“Good.”

“What’s your problem with Denton anyway?”

“He’s wrong.”

“Wrong how?”

“You know how I feel living things more acutely?” Harvey kept his voice down—they stood at the edge of the room, but it wasn’t a big place, and quite full that night.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t feel him at all. Gives me the creeps. Plus he has the hots for you.”

“Who doesn’t?” Gabe tried for flippant, but it didn’t go over well.

“This party was a bad idea. Everyone’s too keyed up. Good thing Sanguine soothes the appetite.”

“They wouldn’t be so keyed up if Dill wasn’t here. Didn’t you tell Ray to leave him at home, like I asked?”

“I did, but Ray makes his own decisions. He wanted to reward Dill for being good.”

“Are you all crazy? The kid is vampire bait. He could ruin everything,” Gabe whispered through gritted teeth.

A few heads turned in their direction, watching the enfolding argument with varying degrees of interest.

“Dill’s not a kid, and the guys can keep him safe.”

“Like they did last time?”

“That was completely different!”

“Right. He got kidnapped from a bar. No, wait, he willingly went with his kidnapper.”

“You know, you’re such a dick sometimes.”

Gabe huffed himself up. “Unlike your tattooed pirate ex? Or your French snob ex? You spent all night with them.”

“They’re friends. Do you expect me to dump all my friends for you? And don’t think I didn’t notice you slobbering over everything with boobs, real or not. Are you sure you’re not a closet hetero?” Harvey snarled.

“You’re not half as funny as you think.”

“I don’t think I’m funny at all. I think you’d happily fuck anything that moves. I really don’t like you right now.”

“Then maybe I should go.”

“Maybe you should.”

Nightcrawler’s neighborhood was drab but reasonably safe during the day. However, the night wrapped it in an ominous ambiance. Gabe zipped up his jacket and set off on the empty street with unsteady steps. He had a fair bit of walking to do to reach the nearest El station, but he knew he could shorten it by cutting through a nearby business park. By the time he made his way through the vacant parking lot and entered a dimly lit stretch of a footpath, he knew he wasn’t alone. He came to a halt in a sickly splash of light and turned. He grabbed the light post for balance.

“I know you’re there,” he addressed the darkness.

He waited. A figure emerged from the shadows.

“You have good senses.” Joe ambled up and stopped a few feet from Gabe.

“No, what you mean is
sharp
senses.”

“It’s not the same?” Joe looked confused.

“No, good sense means being practical. If I had a good sense I wouldn’t be here.”

Those subtleties of the language tended to trip up non-native English speakers. Like Gabe’s parents.

He let go of the lamppost and stood straight. Despite appearances, he was stone-sober. Only his first drink of the night had contained any alcohol at all. The rest were Gustav’s sleight of hand. It came as no surprise to Gabe to see Joe too, far more steady than he had appeared back in the bar. Although, in his case, it had to be a high tolerance to booze. Joe stood in a relaxed pose, legs slightly apart, arms loosely by his sides.

“Your English is very good for someone who’s only been here a few years. How long has it been?” Gabe asked.

“Almost six years.”

“Why did you kill those kids?”

“What are you talking about?” Joe raised his eyebrows.

Gabe didn’t buy the display of confusion for a moment. “Let’s not waste each other’s time, Joe. Or is it József?”

Joe’s face hardened as the amiability dropped from it. “I am Joe here in America.”

“Of course. You’re not from Russia, though, but from Hungary, right?”

“How do you figure?”

“Your accent. You sound like my parents. You still haven’t told me why you murdered those young people.”

Joe’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you think it was me who killed them?”

“That black candy you keep chewing on. I first noticed it the other night when we
accidentally
bumped into each other at that bar in Boystown.
Negro
, isn’t it? The main ingredient is anise, and it has a distinctive scent. It’s a popular candy in Hungary but hard to find around here. I know, I drove all over town looking for it without any success.”

Negro
candy had been one of those strange, befuddling things about Hungary that a foreigner would experience. Eventually, he’d learned it had been named after its inventor—some Italian guy—and not the racial slur. According to some Hungarians, it could fool a breathalyzer. That had been at the back of Gabe’s mind when they’d last met. It just hadn’t clicked until later.

For the first time, Joe looked genuinely confused. “So?”

“Both victims smelled it before they died,” Gabe explained.

“How would you know that?” Joe asked, dumbfounded.

“I have sharp senses,” Gabe reminded him, with a deliberately mysterious expression. There was no way in hell he’d reveal Denton’s role to a murderer, or that the sole reason for Denton’s presence tonight had been to confirm Gabe’s suspicion by a smell-check.

Joe didn’t believe him. “That is not possible.”

Gabe shrugged. “They did. But that’s not all. You were following me around, weren’t you? If I had common sense as well, I would’ve figured it out sooner. I thought I saw you at Cloud 9 too but wasn’t sure. I went back later to talk to the bartenders, and they recognized you from the description.”

Joe remained stubbornly silent, so Gabe went on. “You followed Paul Mayer from the bar. When you came to a deserted street, you attacked him, but he fought back, and in the struggle you lost one of your stakes. The weather’s too warm for leather jackets, unless they’re a fashion statement, or if they serve a special purpose.” As he spoke, Gabe unzipped his own jacket and opened it wide, displaying the loops specially designed to hold the tools of a slayer.

Joe’s scornful snort was likely a comment on their empty state.

Gabe wasn’t done yet. “A week later, you chatted up Chrissy at Club 9, slipped drugs into her drink, then went home with her and killed her. Am I right?”

Joe scowled. “This is all bullshit. The police will laugh at you.”

A nervous thrill rushed through Gabe, but he kept taunting Joe in a calm voice.

“Yeah, but we both know I won’t go to the cops. You came to kill me too. So why don’t you tell me what it’s all about? I know you want to.”

This is what the whole evening came down to. Gabe had figured out the murders, but had no tangible evidence, and the only way to lay the matter to rest was to make the killer confess. Everything, from the party to his spat with Harvey had been staged for this sole purpose. Gabe had set a trap and used himself as bait.

“
Baszd meg a kurva
—” Joe cursed at him.

“English please. You need the practice, and my Magyar isn’t very good.”

“It is about you, asshole,” Joe snarled. Gabe could see the effort it took him to keep his rage under control. “You and your fucking senses.”

“What’s it to you?”

Even in the poor light, Gabe saw how dark Joe’s face turned. “You are a traitor! I know what you are, what you should do, but you don’t. Vampires are filthy beasts. They need to be put down. You are worse. You go to bed with them. That’s two sins,
buzi
.”

“Okay, so I’m a traitor and a fag. I got that. Why did you go after a couple of kids?”

“They were fraternizing with the enemy; they deserved it,” Joe spat the words out.

“They didn’t even know they were with vamps!”

“Bullshit. That pretty boy in the bar knows. You all sicken me. I’ll get him too, and your Chink boy.”

Gabe saw right through the posturing. Joe was nothing but a hate-filled petty thug.

“You couldn’t slay a vampire if you tried. That’s why you go after regular people, you fucking coward!” Gabe didn’t try to keep the revulsion out of his voice any longer. He let the bastard have it.

Joe snapped back with fury. “I’m not a coward! I fought them, I have the scars! I was trained much longer than you.”

“By Miklos, right? How did you know him?”

“He was my father.”

“But—”

Joe’s mug twisted into a self-satisfied smirk. “He never told you, did he? My mother was really Russian. She married him when they were young; then I was born. She left us when I was little. It was only me and
apám
. He trained me ever since I could walk. But I was never like him. The talents take time to develop, he said, but mine never did. Then we found out—I wasn’t really his. My bitch of a mother lied. He sent for you and your fucking precious senses then and had me do his dirty work here. It’s fucking unfair! If I had what you have, I wouldn’t let them go to waste.”

“Uncle Miklos wouldn’t have approved of what you’re doing,” Gabe retorted.

A short bark of a laugh erupted from Joe. “The fuck you know. Would you have gone to Hungary if your parents were alive? Would your father let you? He was a traitor too, running from his duty. It’s convenient they died right when they did, isn’t it?”