Black Heart: Wild On (2 page)

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Authors: TW Gallier

BOOK: Black Heart: Wild On
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            "He sacrificed himself for his wife and child," Reverend Saxon said.

            There wasn't a dry eye in the house. Not even mine, and it takes a lot to bring tears to the eyes of a vampire.

            I cleared my throat, blinked a few times, and turned back to Charlotte. Something had to be done, and fast. Unfortunately, I was at a loss.

            "Anything else? Did you hear a name mentioned?" I said. "What did they look like? Did you get a license plate number?"

            "Oh, the boss vampire was tall and distinguished looking, with silver temples," Charlotte said. "He rode in a limo and wore a tuxedo."

            I gawked at her. "A vampire? In a tux?" But it made me think. Which vamps in Dallas could afford, and actually did ride in, limos? Not many. I knew of at least one vampire council member who did, but he didn't have graying temples. "If I showed you some pictures, do you think you could identify the vampires involved?"

            "Yes!"

            I hurried back to my Mustang. I returned the pistol to my purse. I had a briefcase in the trunk with everything I had on the vampire council. I took it back to the house and started showing Charlotte pictures. We spent half an hour going through photos, and didn't find a single one that was of the vampires that took Timmy.

            "What are you going to do?" Momma asked.

            "I'm going to find Timmy and bring him back," I said, sapphire eyes narrowing. The Saxon's eyes all went wide as they stared at me in fear. I realized too late I was baring my fangs and projecting anger. "And I'm going to make someone very sorry they ever messed with one of my friends."

Chapter 2

            By eleven thirty I was back on the road. I still had eight hours of dark to play with. It wasn't even midday for vampires. Though, I was getting a little hungry.

            Maybe Boney would let me bite him.

            Flipping my phone open as I accelerated up the on-ramp onto Central Expressway, heading south, I punched in the number to my favorite informant. He was an undead pimp, working the Harry Hines red light district. His girls were all fang whores and serviced some of the movers and shakers in the vamp community. Bone Daddy knew lots of interesting things.

            "Boney," I said. "Good evening."

            "Sable!" he said. I smiled to hear the honest joy in his voice. "Long time no see, babe."

            "I saw you two days ago," I said, shaking my head with a big smile. "We did very naughty things to each other for several hours. Am I that forgettable?"

            "There’s nothing about you forgettable," Boney said. "But two nights is a long time to go without a big healthy dose of Sable."

            I rolled my eyes. "Pouring it on pretty thick there, don’t you think?"

            "I know. Is it working?"

            "Yeah," I said, and laughed. "Where are you at?"

            "You’re coming to see me?"

            "I’m doing eighty-five on Central as we speak," I said. "Where else would I go at this unholy hour, except to see a vampire?"

            "Coolness," he said. "I’m in the Crazy Girls parking lot, on Harry Hines."

            "I’ll be there in less that fifteen."

            "Is this visit a kiss or a bite?" he said.

            "A big bite of business," I said.

            "No chance for a kiss?"

            "Maybe that too, if I like what you tell me," I said, grinning. "See you in a bit, bye."

            Kisses and bites were common vamp slang. Oddly enough, a "bite" was bad, while a "kiss" was good. Or in this context, business rather than pleasure. But with vampires pleasure was around every corner. Vamps, one and all, were poster children for hedonism.

            Once I was the epitome of the nice girl and perfect daughter. Yep, wild wicked me was a sweet as can be university student and Sunday School teacher, wearing long skirts and sensible shoes. I made the mistake of going to Deep Ellum, and was almost killed by a hungry vampire. A stranger, Dane Douglass, who just happened to stake vampires for a living, saved me. Soon I was his apprentice, his girlfriend, and less than two years later I have fangs. Enough said.

            Dallas was a big city, but things kinda shut down by midnight unless you knew where to look. I knew where to look, but the highways and byways thinned out sweetly late at night and let me open up my Mustang. I charged out of Plano and into Richardson at over one hundred miles an hour. I had to brake hard to make the turn onto Loop 635, called LBJ. Heading west, I made for Harry Hines at a hundred and fifteen.

            I had a really good radar detector.

            At fifty-five to sixty-five, LBJ was a sweetly rolling drive across the northern edge of Dallas proper. At a hundred and fifteen, it was roller coast wild. Seatbelts required to stay in the seat. Momma like. A lot.

            Turning off at Harry Hines, just shy of Interstate 35 East, I headed south. Harry Hines was one of Dallas' most notorious areas. The street was lined with strip malls and strip clubs, pockets of streetwalkers, drug pushers, and other sex industry businesses, and the people that supported and preyed upon them.

            More than a few vampire owned and operated businesses lined that street. I bought all my vehicles from one of three new and used car dealerships, shopped for kinky clothes in the boutiques, and found my current realtor at a Harry Hines address. I should build a house there.

            Crazy Girls was a rather seedy strip club on Harry Hines. Bone Daddy liked to work his girls in front of the strip clubs, to catch the johns at their horniest. Business was good. He drove a new Mercedes Benz, dressed in designer suits, and bought luxury homes right and left.

            The parking lot was three-quarters full when I arrived. I spotted Bone Daddy right off. At six foot six, he wasn’t hard to find. Plus, with long blonde hair, a goatee, and a spectacularly ripped body, he looked like Jesus on steroids.

            Boney was leaning against his car, under a light post. Being winter, he didn't have to worry about bugs. The bank signs all said it was thirty-five degrees. I had to take their word for it. Vampires aren’t affected by temperature, so I’m comfortable no matter what the temperature.

            Boney usually parked near the road, but not all alone. He didn’t want to stand out too much. That night he was parked almost dead center of all the other cars. Some of his girls were arrayed around him, looking at him adoringly and shivering from the cold. They all wore coats, but little else underneath.

            I knew all of Boney’s girls. One of them was my number one fang whore. Desiree was a thirty-one year old African American, with straightened, red-dyed hair and a body to die for. She was Boney’s most eager worker, and an insatiable vampire groupie.

            Parking my car, I put on my black leather trail duster. Like I said, the cold doesn’t affect me, but when I ran around without a coat it drew unwanted attention. Besides, the trail duster looked cool. Boney and his girls couldn’t take their eyes off me as I approached. Did I mention they were all fang whores?

            Walking through that strip club parking lot was a true test of vampiric resolve. The air was filled with mortal and vampire need and desire. The pheromones were as thick as I'd ever experienced. How did Boney work in such an environment? After an hour in that cauldron of carnal desire I'd be chasing every man that walked by, offering myself up on a silver platter.

            The way Bone and his girls were looking at me I suspected they understood the effect the pheromones had on me. Or they were hoping. Damned predators.

            Vampires see a little differently than mortals. We can see "auras" around all living creatures. Those auras were like dim halos, some brighter and/or larger than others. Strong, aggressive, forceful people had bigger, brighter auras. Auras also pulsed with a person’s heartbeat, as well as brightened or dimmed according to their moods and such. It was one of the reasons few mortals could lie to vampires.

            As I approached, I instinctively studied everyone’s aura. Two of the girls were extremely agitated to see me, and the rest were highly aroused. I never hired any of Boney’s girls, but most of them had high hopes. Boney, though, was unreadable. Vampire auras were very different, grayer and did not pulse. Also, vampire auras were huge in comparison to mortals. I couldn’t read vampires like I read mortals, but there was no disguising Boney’s pleasure and arousal at seeing me.

            "Hey, lover, miss me?" I said.

            "Like the flowers miss the sun at night," he said.

            "Wow," I said. "You really are slathering it on thick tonight. Let me guess...you haven’t been laid in two years?"

            "Well, it has been over an hour," he said.

            "Oh, was that me?" Desiree said, smiling wickedly. "If I’d known you wanted him, I wouldn’t have worn him out so much."

            "No problem. I’m known for my ability to inspire men to greatness," I said.

            "Really?" a mortal man said. There were three in his group, walking slowly by as they checked out all the women. All three wore wedding bands. He looked me up and down, oozing desire from every pore. It was enough to send a thrill up my spine. "I feel in the need of some
inspiration
. How much for a date?"

            The hookers and Boney were all fabulously amused. They knew my thoughts on prostitution. I'll give it away free, and quite freely, but the mere thought of having sex for money was revolting. And to be honest, I just didn't understand the appeal. Why did men
want
to pay women for sex?

            I slanted a withering look his way. The idiot wasn't paying attention. He was gawking at my boobs. I ground my teeth, forcing a smile on my face, as I turned to face him. Normally, all that need and desire in the air would be enough to drown in, and I'd be lost in it. But my wannabe john delivered unto me the cure for vampire lust, and that is
anger
.

            "Boy, if you know what's good for you, you and your little friends will high-tail it out of here," Boney said.

            "Who you calling boy, pimp?" he said, suddenly all insulted. "You ain't my daddy."

            "I would've been your daddy, but the dog beat me under the fence," Boney said.

            Now who could be angry after a statement like that? Not me. Wannabe john was another story. He and his horny drunk friends just stared open mouthed at Boney a long moment.

            I realized Boney was no longer amused, and angry vamps were doubly dangerous. Something had to be done before blood flowed.

            "I'm just here for lunch," I said, exposing my fangs to the three men. Talk about shocked. They sobered up pronto, eyes like saucers. Their auras began to throb violently. "I was fixin to dine one of these ladies of the evening, but you three will do nicely."

            "Son of a bitch!"

            All three men backed away from me. First sign of intelligence from them so far. I mean, I really was hungry. I normally drink cow blood three times a night, but human blood was head and shoulders above other animal blood in so many ways. And I haven't had actual human blood since Christmas Eve.

            "Come to Momma, boys," I said. They turned and ran. Right out of the parking lot. "I wonder how long it'll be before they realize they forgot their cars?"

            "Were you serious about wanting blood?" Desiree said. A lot of interested eyes locked on me. The hookers auras showed their excitement and arousal. "I volunteer!"

            "Of course you do," I said.

            "I haven't given blood in over two weeks," Desiree said. "I can give now."

            Boney was my primary how-to-be-a-vampire teacher, and he taught restraint in bloodletting. No fang whore should be allowed to give more than two pints of blood every two weeks, and he strongly urged a single pint every two weeks. The body needed time to replenish. Even then fang whores generally were on special diets to avoid iron deficiencies.

            "Later," I said. Desiree's eyes closed and her full lips parted as she wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered. No one loved the feel of fangs penetrating her neck like Desiree. I'm not even sure if she cared if I actually suck out blood or not. "I'll bite you back at home, for dinner."

            "Promise?"

            "I promise," I said.

            "Great, it's a date," Boney said as he started walking over to me. He looked around, and I noticed that there were men loitering. They were all highly aroused, and kept looking at all those beautiful young women. "But it's time you girls got back to work."

            The hookers looked around, then smiles spread across their overly painted faces. They slowly filtered into the parking lot, spreading out in all directions. I watched in morbid amazement as every one of those girls found a man, and sealed the deal.

            "That is so wrong," I said, looking up into Boney's face.

            Bone Daddy was six foot six, while I measured a respectable five foot ten. But even in four and a half inch stiletto boots I had to look up. He always made me feel small, and I kinda liked it.

            "They are good, aren't they?" Boney said.

            Boney pressed up against me. I placed my hands on his chest, to keep him at bay. Just a little. He leaned down, and I rose up on my tiptoes, and we kissed. Deeply. A lingering kiss, that quickly grew impassioned.

            With Boney, and most vampires, it was never just a hug or a peck on the cheek. Vampires were, one and all, lusty creatures with little restraint. Some said it was part of our curse, others said it was the silver lining.

            We sucked face for at least five minutes, until I realized he was fondling my breasts. Even then I didn't stop kissing him. I wanted to, sort of, but kept kissing.

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