Blood Moon (16 page)

After gathering all of my information, I
needed to take it to my team and, more importantly, the captain so
we could plot our next course of action. I was unsure how he would
react to this, and quite frankly, I was a little afraid he would
tell me I wasted my time. I mean, his new detective’s first case,
and she goes off on a tangent, spewing nonsense about vampires? It
was certifiable, and if anyone was going to tell me that, it would
be him.

“You ready?” David asked as we entered the
precinct the next morning.

“No,” I quipped. “He’s going to think I’m
crazy.”

David laughed. “He’s not.” Pausing, he
considered his response. “Well, maybe a little,” he teased.

His laughter was contagious, and I elbowed
his side. “You’re not funny.”

“Then stop laughing.” Stopping just outside
the briefing room, David took my hand. “Look, I’ll admit that it
sounded a little out there at first, but I think it fits. In some
weird way, your theory fits… Plus, it’s the only one we’ve got
right now.”

“Still,” I argued, “I don’t think he’ll
accept it right away.”

Releasing my hand, David reached out and
turned the doorknob. “Only one way to find out.”

My heart hammered in my chest as we entered
the briefing room, not only because I was nervous to present my
plan of action to our team and my father, but because a surge of
adrenaline was rushing through me. That part of me that so
desperately wanted to pursue this lead in the first place was
excited to be following through.

My nerves took over as I stood at the front
of the room. All eyes were on me, and my mouth dried out. I
swallowed thickly, looking from David, to Dad, to the rest of the
detectives here to listen to me. After taking a deep breath, I
decided to bite the bullet and just begin.

“So, I know it’s been tough this past week,
and we appreciate everything you all have done to try and solve
this case,” I said, my voice shaking in the beginning, but
steadying as I carried on. “While we haven’t been able to find much
of anything that can tell us what happened to any of the victims, I
think I’ve stumbled onto a potential lead, thanks to Detective
Keaton.”

Keaton’s head shot up, and he looked
somewhat surprised. “Really?”

Smiling, I nodded, my confidence rising.
“Now, I have to admit, that when I first heard it, I took it as the
joke it was intended to be, but the more I looked into it, the more
I realized he might be onto something.” I opened the folder in my
hand and grabbed a few of the pictures I pulled from my online
research. “I know this is pretty outside the box, but I believe
that we might be dealing with a coven of self-proclaimed vampires.”
Almost every detective looked at me like I just admitted to seeing
Elvis flying on the back of a winged purple elephant, and I rushed
to elaborate.

“I know how it sounds,” I assured them, “but
with no other leads, we really don’t have anything to lose.” A low
rumble moved through the crowd as they spoke. They all talked below
a whisper, and I was pretty sure I shouldn’t have been able to hear
them, but I heard things like “is she fucking serious?” and “she’s
lost her damn mind” floating around. Normally, hearing that sort of
thing would shake my confidence, but it didn’t. Somewhere deep
down, it was like I
knew
this was the right path to
follow.

Before I could say anything to force their
eyes back to me, my father did. “Everybody, listen up.” His loud
voice bounced off every wall in the room, and everybody listened
without objection. Satisfied, he looked to me and nodded.
“Detective.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Someone in the back of the room muttered
“daddy’s girl” under their breath, and I saw red, my eyes zeroing
in on Detective Clarke. He’d always been a pain in my ass and was a
little sore that I’d been promoted so early in my career. He’d
cited preferential treatment, when that couldn’t be further from
the truth. I was quite aware how unprofessional a father promoting
his daughter probably looked to those who claimed this as a classic
case of nepotism, but I worked my ass off to get this promotion. I
deserved it, and I was determined to prove it.

Rage bubbled inside me as I stared at Clarke
in his seat. His eyes locked with mine, widening with the
realization that I’d heard him, and I started to imagine how wildly
his heart must be thumping in his chest. I focused on the thought
so intensely, in fact, that I swore I heard it. I inhaled another
deep breath, this time feeling a little smug, and my mouth
salivated when I sensed something even more satisfying than the
look on his face. I wasn’t sure how, but I recognized the smell for
exactly what it was.

Fear.
His
fear.

I realized that he likely wasn’t scared of
me
so much as the fact that I overheard his backhanded
comment, and it was barely enough to infuse the air, but there it
was…and it shocked me just how much I liked it. How much I thrived
off it.

“Got something you wish to share with the
class, Detective Clarke?” I snarled in his direction. “Something
you need to contribute to the case?”

His head moved back and forth rapidly, his
eyes locked on mine and his fear spiking. “N-no, Detective
Leighton.”

The right side of my mouth curled up into a
cocky smirk. “Then if you could save any snide comments you have
about me until we can discuss them at length—
privately
—I’d
like to continue.”

A deafening silence filled the room,
satisfying me completely, and I continued to go through my findings
in hopes it would help convince them that this was a viable option.
It surprised me to find my father wasn’t against my theory, nor did
he think I’d lost my mind. Bonus.

There were skeptics in the room when I
announced wanting to investigate these clubs, but no one contested
me, probably afraid to be called out like Clarke was. By the end of
the briefing, I decided that we’d split into four groups and hit
each club armed with questions and a photo of each vic. If they
were involved, someone was sure to have seen one of them.

At least, that’s what I hoped.

L
oud music poured
from the subterranean club entrance, and bright lights flashed
wildly through the heavily-tinted windows. Based on its underground
location in Old Scottsdale,
The Dungeon
was actually an apt
choice for this place’s name, and it made me feel more on edge than
I’d ever felt before. Something I didn’t even realize was
possible.

It wasn’t like I’d never found myself in
similar situations, but there was something about this that had my
entire body on high-alert. Ever since this vampire theory was
mentioned, my muscles had been tense, and my heart pumped harder
and slightly faster as if preparing my body for a surge of
adrenaline at a moment’s notice. Acutely aware, I took in
everything about my surroundings, my eyes darting around, looking
in every direction and searching the shadows for danger. I focused
my hearing on the sounds of passing pedestrians and vehicles while
trying to block out the loud music.

David placed his hand on my back, and I
jumped away, defensively swatting his arm in the process. His eyes
widened in alarm, and I exhaled. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“You okay? You seem tense.”

I nodded as we made our way for the stairway
that led to the club. “Yeah. I’m not sure why, but I feel like I’m
poised to…I don’t know…attack?” David listened intently as I
explained what I’ve been going through these last few days. “It’s
weird, actually. Ever since Keaton joked around about vampires,
I’ve been feeling anxious. Excited, even. Maybe it’s because this
is the first real—albeit strange—lead we’ve had on this case, but
it’s like some dormant part of me has been awakened and has been
driving me forward this entire time.”

“Sounds reasonable,” David replied. “You’re
a detective now, and this is your first real case. You’re thirst
for justice is just stronger than you realized.”

Thirst
. Is that what this was?
Something about the word definitely fit with how I had been chasing
this lead. It was stronger than desire, though—much stronger—and I
wasn’t entirely convinced that justice was what I sought. Maybe a
part of me did, but it didn’t feel like it most of the time. At
first, I thought it was vengeance—and I still believed this—but now
it felt like something I had to do. Something I was
made
to
do.

At the bottom of the stairs, David grabbed
the door handle and tried to open it, but it didn’t budge. He
looked at me, confused, and then tried again. When the door
remained closed, I shook my head, annoyed with this minor setback,
and I pounded on the metal door loudly.

The small rectangular peephole in the door
opened, and a pair of blood-red eyes appeared. I stared at them a
moment, undeterred and unthreatened when I saw a ring of blue
around the man’s pupils where the contacts didn’t cover.
“Password,” he boomed through the door, and I rolled my eyes.

David and I unclipped our badges from our
belts and held them up to the door. “Scottsdale PD. Sound about
right?” I demanded firmly.

He cursed loudly before pulling the metal
slide back over the peephole. I was about to knock again when the
door suddenly flew open and he held an arm out, bowing with
mock-chivalry and giving us a prime look at the top of his shiny,
bald head. “Après vous,” he said.

David and I entered the club together, and
every hair on my body prickled as my eyes adjusted to the strobe
lights. It took a minute, but eventually I could see enough to get
me through without running into one of the many people crowding the
place. There were wall-to-wall bodies, and the combination of
smells overwhelmed and disoriented me. I stumbled as the unusual
aroma of cologne, perfume, deodorant—and lack thereof—fogged my
head even further. David reached out and placed his hand flat on my
back, guiding me through the rest of the way. In an effort to help
lessen the effect the smell of this place had on me, I pressed my
nose into the back of my hand.

We made it to the bar, and I looked around.
Even with the lights flashing, I could make out the hundreds of
bodies crowded in here. Black seemed to be the shade of choice, but
splashes of crimson and deep purple were thrown in. Countless
individuals sported dark hair and heavy makeup—something the
victims didn’t seem to have in common. It was all very cliché.

I continued to scan the club, taking notice
of the half-naked women writhing on several podiums around the
room. There wasn’t a lot of dancing by the rest of the patrons as
they stood around and watched the dancers. The look in their eyes
was dangerous, almost predatory, and I observed as one man held his
hand out to one of them and helped her off her podium. He pulled
her to him, and they shared a deep kiss that suggested they knew
each other. I couldn’t take my eyes off them, and not because it
was titillating—quite the opposite, really. The strong reaction I
was experiencing surprised me. It wasn’t that I found exhibitionism
and voyeurism particularly repulsive—nor did I find it arousing—but
this visceral reaction to these people seemed to stem from how I
saw
them
as abominations to the human race.

Yes. That was exactly it, I realized.

Of course, this revelation only upset me,
because behind this phony vampire exterior, they were still human.
A man and a woman, pretending to be something that excited them so
they could get off. Why was I reading more into this than
necessary?

“I’m going to take a look around,” David
said, leaning in so I could hear him over the music. The strange
truth was, though, I could hear the couple across the room as the
woman leaned in and suggested they step into the back room for some
privacy. “You okay out here?”

I nodded, watching the couple disappear
behind a set of red velvet curtains. “Uh huh. Do me a favor,
though? See if you can find out what goes on behind those
curtains.”

“Will do. I’ll be back in a few.” David
disappeared through the crowd before I turned toward the bar.

“You’re new,” the bartender said, leaning on
the sticky-looking countertop. He was tall—just under six feet—his
dark hair was spiked, and heavy eyeliner surrounded his blue-gray
eyes. He was dressed in a tight black shirt and leather vest, and
his arms were covered in tattoos. Basically, he appeared to be the
stereotypical poster boy for the Goth scene.

I stepped toward the bar, and he stood up
straight. “What can I get you, Red?”

“You work here often?” I asked with an
annoyed smile brought on by the use of a nickname I’d been plagued
with given my fiery red hair.

The man shrugged. “Five nights a week. We’re
closed the other two. Why?”

I leaned on the bar. “I was just wondering
if you could answer a couple of questions I had.”

The bartender laughed, flashing me his
sharp, elongated canines. My hands tensed, and my body trembled at
the sight of them. I wasn’t sure what to make of this reaction. It
definitely wasn’t fear, but I felt surges of adrenaline coursing
through my arms and legs as my survival instincts kicked in and
weighed all of my options.

Options? What options?
I asked
myself.
He’s not a threat. He’s just some guy caught up in the
idea that vampires are glamorous and mysterious.
Telling myself
this helped a little, calming my heart minutely, but not
altogether. I reached for my badge and reminded myself why I was
really here.

“What are you, a cop?” The question left his
mouth at the exact moment I placed my badge on the counter. “Holy
shit,” he muttered under his breath, looking around. “What is it
you wanna know, officer?”