Black Heart: Coeur de Sade (Black Heart Series) (3 page)

            Pulling on peach colored sweat pants and a white v-neck, I headed upstairs.  I could feel Desiree upstairs.  She was alone.  Her emotions were fired up, too.  Very tense.  A little aroused.  I shook my head woefully as I ascended the basement stairs.

            Her house was probably one of the few homes in that exclusive neighborhood with a basement.  North Texas was not "basement country."  I suspect most of the homes with basements were originally built by vampires, or mortals wishing to attract vampires.

            Desiree was in the den, or what she referred to as her Media Room.  I knew exactly were she was, and even her mood thanks to my supernatural vampiric senses.  I could feel the neighbors, too, for several houses down in all directions.  Their hot, sweet blood called to me in the basest way.

            "Desiree, I'm up," I called, striking out for the den.

            "I heard you," she called back.

            I stopped just inside the den.  She didn't even glance back at me.

            "What are you watching?"

            "Shhhh!" she said, cutting an annoyed look my way.

            The beautiful African-American was watching her "program."  Or one of several she watched obsessively.  The show was on the Vampire Entertainment Network, or VEN, and was called
Blood Passions
.  Basically, a vampire themed primetime soap opera.  It was cable, and heaped in the cable package with the porn stations.  Vampire erotica.  Very graphic.  What little I had seen showed it was filled with graphic sex and violence, tons of nudity.  Which wasn't that far off reality, except in the show the vampires were the good guys.

            Desiree was all but drooling as she stared at the show's main male character, a vampire named Lord Jean-Anton Devereaux, sharing blood and other body fluids with the female vampire lead, wicked and wanton Lady Alison Loveless.  Desiree grunted when Lord Devereaux released his lover's neck, then bite her neck on the other side.

            I had to look away when they zoomed in on his penis, vanishing into her body.  I'd forgotten just how graphic they were.  When VEN said graphic sex, that is exactly what they meant.  Vampires were easily aroused, and I was about to leave when they went to commercial.

            "What?" Desiree cried.  "Bastards!"

            I laughed.  "They guaranteed you'll be back after the commercial."

            I took a deep breath to bring my now raging libido under control.  It didn't take much to set it off, and the longer I was a vampire, the easier it seemed to be to fire it up.  Boney, my best vampire friend, said that the longer I went between lovers, the less sex I had, the easier it would be to rouse my libido.  Evidence seemed to be proving him correct, as he usually was when it concerned vampires.

            There hadn't been much abstaining going on since moving in with Desiree.  She was insatiable.  Desiree had friends that she brought over for me.  All fang whores, and they all knew exactly how to arouse a vampire's lust.

            Desiree noticed my condition, and an animal lust filled her eyes.  The shapely fang whore with the straightened, long red hair was bi-sexual, leaning toward girl-on-girl.  Her occupation was streetwalker, so she pretty much got all the male attention she needed, and then some.  When it came to making love, Desiree preferred women, but when it came to vampires, she didn't care either way.

            I felt my jaw drop as we locked eyes, the erotic electricity intense between us.  Vampire pheromones, the only proven aphrodisiac known, started pumping into the air as butterflies erupted in my lower belly.  My gaze fell on her long, slender throat, so smooth and enticing.  I heard her heart starting pounding faster and faster as she reacted to the pheromones, felt her blood surging through her body.  Then my eyes rose up to her full, glossy lips.  They parted every so slightly, and a thrill raced up my spine.  I'd never had desires for other women as a mortal, but since becoming a vampire I was not so choosy in my choice of lovers.  And Desiree had learned quickly how to push my buttons to get what she wanted.

            "This just in from Dallas, Texas," came from the TV.  It was a news break.  The mention of our city caught both of our attention.  "Spectacular video footage of yet another vampire suicide, this time in front of a busy super market in a residential area."

            "What the Hell?" I said, engrossed by the sight of a vampire in jeans and t-shirt shouting defiantly at the world as the sun rose.  He was white, but the early morning indirect sunlight was starting to crisp and blacken his exposed skin.  He acted oblivious to the pain.  Then he stepped out of the shadow of a building, and was hit by direct sunlight.  It only took seconds to reduce him to ashes.  "Holy smoke."

            "Oh my God, not another one," Desiree said.  "Are they going insane?"

            "Another one?" I said, confused.  "This is the first one I heard about."

            "It happens," Desiree said, slumping in her chair, head hanging low.  "Some go rogue, others commit sunrise suicide."  She shook her head sadly.  "But there seems to be so many lately."

            "Why haven't I heard about them?"

            "Well, Sable, you never watched VEN until you moved in with me," Desiree said.  "And I think most of them were overlooked and under-reported due to all of your...um...recent activities."

            My "recent activities" included stalking two families of murderous vampires, killing most of them, and killing a pretty good chunk of  the city's elected leadership in the process.  Okay, the vampires had Changed the mayor, some city council members, city manager, and several high ranking police department officials.  So I was justified in killing and/or outing them as vampires.

            "This is the fifth
public
suicide in two weeks in Dallas, which normally sees about one vampire suicide every three years.  Vampire leaders in the city blame the stress of the recent tragedies as the cause," the handsome young newsman said.  "Reliable sources say the five vampires caught on tape committing suicide were only a third of the total in that same time period.  Some fear a new, unknown threat is forcing them to commit suicide, possibly against their will."

            "Well, at least they didn't blame me," I said, nose crinkled at the TV.  The local media liked to blame all vampire deaths on Sable Hart, or
Black Heart
.  "That’s a first."

            "Don't make jokes, Sable.  It's not funny," Desiree said, eyes wide.

            "Sorry," I said.  Then I realized he wasn't shouting defiantly, but singing.  "Is he singing 'I am Woman?'"

            "No, 'I am a Vampire, hear me roar' over and over," Desiree said.  "They all do."

            I did a double take on her.  Was that true?  Why?

            "Every vampire that suicides sings, 'I am Vampire, hear me roar?'"

            "What?  Oh, no," Desiree said, grinning sadly.  "Just the last five, the vampires they are reporting on."

            "All five of them?"

            "Yes."

            I just stared at her.  What could make a vampire do that?  Vampires didn't want to die anymore than mortals.  I can see one going crazy and singing that song, but five in two weeks?  Another force was behind it.  And it scared me.

            Then I remembered the ruby that so enthralled me the previous night.  I recalled the wave of intense cold that washed through me, and how empty I felt afterwards.

            Magic!

            The memories pulled a gasp out of me.  Desiree's head snapped around, worry in her dark eyes.  I felt weak, so sat down upon an ottoman.  I had Desiree's full and concerned attention.

            "Are the vampires committing suicide connected in any way?"

            "I don't know.  Why?" Desiree said.  "The police don't care.  They don't investigate the murder or suicide of vampires.  Do you know something?"

            I have to admit, my curiosity was piqued.  Vampires killing themselves was unusual enough, but for so many to do it in such a short span of time was passingly strange, to say the least.  And I couldn't help but wonder if what happened to me had anything to do with it.  I
knew
he could've ordered me to kill myself and I would've obeyed.

            That shouldn't be possible with me.  I only had one Compulsion placed upon me by the vampire that created me, and that was because I tried to commit suicide, and take him with me.  He placed a Compulsion against suicide on me, so I could never do it.  But I felt the power of that ruby, and knew it would override that compulsion.

            "Something is not right there," I said.  "I'm going over to take a look."

            I hurried back downstairs to dress.  Make-up took less than five minutes.  I wasn't a big fan of caking it on, you know?  In no time I was slipping into a pair of snug, faded jeans and a Dallas Cowboy t-shirt.          

            I put on some running shoes and jumped into the ole Mustang.  It was brand spanking new.  I'd only had it a few days.  Since I was trying to keep a low profile, driving at night, it was charcoal gray with black racing stripes and a black leather interior.  I loved that car.

            The scene of the "suicide" wasn't that far.  It was north of the Park Cities, in what I called North Dallas.  The super market was on Preston Road, in an established neighborhood.  Compared with what was being built in the suburbs, the so called super market was rather on the small side.

            The parking lot lights were bright.  My vampiric ears picked up a myriad of flying insects buzzing those high powered lights, and even the buzzing sound the lights made.  Sometimes superior hearing was just annoying.  The lot was mostly full, and so was the store and the smaller shops sharing the small strip mall.  I could feel all that hot blood surging around me.  It was a heady feeling.  But I'd fed, and made sure I was quite full before venturing out.

            I was as safe as a vampire could be.

            Recalling the angle of the video, I realized it was store surveillance.  I quickly located the camera, and two others.  There was nothing to see in the parking lot.  They cleaned it up, not even leaving a stain.  I wondered if they had it steam cleaned or sand blasted.  So I went inside and located the night manager.

            "How may I help you, ma'am?"

            His name tag said he was Hank, and he was the assistant manager.  Hank was tall and lanky, maybe all of twenty, with dark spiky hair and pimply face.  He got a good look at me, and his hormones kicked into overdrive.  I could smell it, thicker than pea soup.  The bright aura around him shimmied and brightened, which I'd finally figured out didn't necessarily mean arousal, just a quickened heart rate.

            His excitement made me wish I had vamped up.  You know, dressed in all leather and overtly sexual.  Kinda gothy sexy.  Kinky.  It was how people perceived vampires.  And believe me, it got a reaction.  Not always good.

            His arousal kicked started my libido, and I began to ooze vampire pheromones.  They made everyone horny, and very pliant.  Very open to suggestion.  But it forced me to suppress my own unholy urges to stay focused.

            "Hi, my name is Sable.  I'm investigating the suicide of the vampire this morning," I said, pulling out a pen and small note pad.  I didn't need them, but it made me look official.  "Were you or anyone working right now present when it happened?"

            "No, ma'am, that was at the end of the night shift," he said, nervously looking at my chest and licking his lips.  I had a nice chest.  Few men could avoid looking at it, and most seemed to just stare.  Sometimes it got annoying.

            "You're night manager."

            "I work evenings, not grave."

            "People talk," I said and gave him my most winning smile.  Hank melted.  The younger they are, the easier they are to manipulate with feminine wiles.  Vampire pheromones helped.  "What did you hear?  I'd
really
appreciate anything you can give me."

            "Like what?"

            "Was he seen with anyone prior to this?  Did he just walk in out of the blue?"

            "He just walked up and started that song, I am Vampire," Hank said, pressing his thin lips together looking up as he thought.  "He was a regular here, but we didn't know he was a vampire.  Only person that really knew him, that I know about, is Miss Hancock."

            "Miss Hancock?"

            "His girlfriend, I think.  At least the few times he was seen here it was with her," he said.  "Miss Hancock comes in two, three times a week and shops."

            Three men and a woman entered the store.  They were all well dressed in dark suits.  The woman wore a black pin-stripe suit and skirt.  My first thought — lawyers.  But they were vampires, and looked determined.  I could tell by their big gray auras.

            "Oh really.  That's interesting," I said, moving so that Hank was turned away from the door.  "Would you happen to have an address for Miss Hancock?"

            "I can't give that out, ma'am."

            I cut a look at the other vampires.  They were speaking to one of the elderly baggers.  I moved so that Hank had to move to stay with me, and slowly led him into and down the nearest aisle.  The soft drink aisle, to be exact.

            "Not even for me?"

            He so wanted to give me the information, but I noted a trace of fear and uncertainty color his expressive eyes.  Then resolution coupled with regret spread across his face as his aura dimmed slightly.  I knew then he was going to deny me.  So I captured him with my eyes, and Hank belonged to me.  To his credit, he only gave out the tiniest of grunts.

            They say vampires are one and all devoid of guilt and shame.  It was supposed to be part of the curse.  I'm not so sure.  I felt a pang of something — regret? — when I mesmerized Hank.