Blood Moon (18 page)

“There was a mark on her neck. Two puncture
wounds,” I replied. “Seemed like a good theory.”

He laughed again, only this one, to me,
sounded slightly more confident—cocky, even—and he started rolling
the sleeves of his shirt up. “Normally, I’d agree, but I’m
confident that you’re probably not looking for any of my coven
members,” he told us, laying his arms on the table.

I glanced down at them, not sure what to
think. Donovan was quick to explain. “Not every member of my coven
has the dental implants since they all hold day jobs. Even those of
us who do have them, they don’t puncture deep enough to cause
continuous blood flow—if you know what I’m saying.” He took his
right index finger and dragged it along a wound that was so fresh I
thought I could still smell traces of his blood. A tremor moved
through me, and my stomach rolled as I visualized how this
happened. I didn’t understand why this affected me in such a
visceral way, but I couldn’t help but feel like it went against the
very core of my existence.

The wound wasn’t very large—a straight,
quarter-inch line with one small hole on either side of it.
“There’s usually a small incision made, and sometimes, depending on
just how zealous our partner gets, we’ll get lucky with the
additional puncture wounds, but they’re never deep enough to cause
someone to bleed out.”

David and I looked at each other again as
Donovan pulled his sleeves back down, and when we returned our gaze
to him, he raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Plus, we
never—ever—feed from the neck. It’s always done in a place that can
be easily concealed, and always away from any major arteries like
the carotid and the femoral. That’s just asking for trouble, if you
ask me. And I’m not looking for trouble.”

What he told us made sense—in a way—and we
no longer had a reason to keep questioning him. We gathered his
alibi information and gave him the standard “don’t leave town”
spiel. His business still worried me, but as far as I could tell,
he wasn’t breaking any laws. Due to his being nothing but
completely open and forthright, we thanked him for his time,
apologized for the trouble, and sent him on his way. On his way
out, he assured us that he would cooperate with anything we might
need to aide the investigation, including sending over any and all
information regarding his club.

After he left, I turned to David and threw
my hands up in defeat. “Well, that was a bust.”

“Maybe so,” he agreed, sitting on the edge
of his desk and taking my hands, pulling me toward him. “There are
still three other clubs. The odds are still in our favor.”

I released an aggravated sigh. “I know. I
guess I’m just frustrated. What if we don’t find anything? We’ll be
right back at square one.”

“Or, we could break this case wide open,” he
said confidently, trying to lift my spirits and reminding me why I
fell in love with him.

When he fell silent, dropping his eyes from
mine, I sensed his turmoil. I pulled one of my hands from his and
looked to make sure no one was looking before I placed my hand on
his shoulder and teased the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.
“Hey,” I whispered. “What’s wrong?”

Raising his face, he hesitated briefly. “I’m
worried.”

“About?”

He exhaled heavily, and I started to fear
his response. “About how you’ll cope should we find out that your
brother was messed up in all of this.”

“I worry about that, too,” I admitted
quietly.

“Can you recall anything from back then that
might have indicated something like this?” David inquired, treading
carefully.

“I don’t. But Bobby hung out with his
friends more than he did with me once we hit college. The night of
our birthday was the first time we’d gone out together in weeks.”
The minute the words left my mouth, I realized that, while I might
not have known about Bobby’s extracurricular activities, there was
one person who probably did: his best friend…and my ex.

Nick.

Looked like he was going to get that phone
call he seemed so desperate for after all.

I
tapped the eraser
of my pencil against my desk over and over again, staring at the
creased piece of paper in front of me. I’d been trying to find the
courage to pick up the phone and dial, but the truth of the matter
was, the thought of making this call terrified me. Not only was I
worried about Nick getting the wrong impression about
why
I
was calling him, but a large part of me was terrified of finding
out the truth about whether or not Bobby had been involved in this
bizarre “vampire” lifestyle.

So far, two of the other three groups had
returned from their investigation, reporting the same thing we’d
already found out at Donovan’s club. Just like David and me, they
shut the clubs down and were currently interviewing the club
owners. From what David and I were able to glean before they went
into the interrogation rooms, our victims went unrecognized at both
of these clubs, too. There was a possibility that someone was
lying, and if that happened to be the case, then we’d have our work
cut out for us.

Which was another reason I needed to bite
the bullet and call Nick. If Bobby’s death had anything to do with
this, and Nick knew anything about it, this could be all we needed
to finally bring this crazy son of a bitch to justice.

Resolute in my decision, I dropped my pencil
to my desk and picked up my phone, dialing the number before I lost
my nerve. When I first told David that if anyone knew whether or
not Bobby was involved in this life, it would be Nick, he seemed
skeptical. I understood his reluctance when I told him I could call
to find out, but he agreed that it might be in the case’s best
interest.

There was no answer after the fourth ring,
so I pulled the phone from my ear to hang it up. Before it hit the
base, though, I heard a rushed and panicked “Hello?” almost as
clear as if the phone were still against my ear.

“Oh, hey,” I replied, bringing the phone
back to my ear.

“Brooke?” he asked, sounding out of breath
and slightly panicked. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

I dismissed the feeling that his concern
meant anything more than it should to me. “Yeah. I just…I wanted to
ask you about something.”

Nick fell silent on the other end of the
phone before sighing. “Look, it wasn’t planned,” he said.
“Honestly, I didn’t mean to, Brooke.”

My brows pulled together with confusion.
“Didn’t mean to what, Nick?”

More silence. “Uh…what is it you’re talking
about?”

“Well, I was calling to ask about Bobby, but
now I’m slightly more interested in what you didn’t mean to do,” I
told him, sitting back in my chair and wondering if this was the
part where he apologized for walking out on me. Not that it would
matter at this point. I’d moved on and was finally at a place in my
life where I was happy.

Completely out of character, Nick stumbled
over his words before reasserting his confidence. “It’s nothing we
can’t talk about soon—in person, preferably.” He paused, waiting
for my answer that never came, and then continued. “What is it you
wanted to know?”

I contemplated pursuing whatever he was
talking about, but the open file in front of me reminded me of more
important things to clear up first. “Back in college,” I began,
“you and Bobby were close.”

“Yeah…”

“I know that you and he did things together
without me sometimes, and I was just wondering what sort of…um,
stuff
that was.”

Nick exhaled loudly, and he sounded almost
annoyed. “Brooke, if you’re suggesting I was seeing someone else
behind your back—”

“What?” I asked, incredulous. “That’s not
what I was saying at all—not that any of that would even matter
now.” I pinched the bridge of my nose in frustration. “What I want
to know is what kind of stuff Bobby was into.”

“What do you mean? Like drugs?”

I bounced back and forth on just how much I
could tell him without compromising the case before deciding to
just figure out what he already knew regarding Bobby’s murder. I
sat forward and leaned on my desk, my hair curtaining one side of
my face as I turned away from the few detectives milling around.
“Remember when we found him in that alley?”

“Yeah,” Nick replied with a sigh, and I
imagined him running his hand through his hair.

“Well, remember the mark on his neck? And
how he was drained of blood?”

“Y-yeah…” He dragged out this one word,
seemingly curious about where I was headed.

“Did you…” I stopped, afraid that, while I
was able to win over my colleagues, I might seem crazy to Nick.
“What I mean is…was Bobby a part of one of those underground clubs
that claim all their patrons are vampires?”

Dead silence. It was so silent, I feared
he’d hung up on me. “Nick?”

“Yeah,” he responded quietly. “I’m here.
What made you ask?”

I shrugged, looking out the window and up at
the almost-full moon hanging in a star-filled sky. “A case I’m
working on, actually,” I confessed without thinking about it.

“The woman from the park?” Nick interjected,
surprising me.

“Uh, yeah, actually. How did you know about
that?”

“I read about it in the paper. So, what
about it made you think about Bobby?”

“She had a similar mark on her neck,” I
informed him. “One of my colleagues joked about vampires, and it
was the only lead we had. We found a few clubs where people
gallivant around pretending to be vampires, and so far, we’ve come
up with nothing. So I thought that maybe—”

“Vampires,” Nick repeated, and I swore I
heard him snarl the word.

Groaning, I pressed my forehead into my
hand. “I know. It sounds so stupid, right?” Before he could answer,
I kept going. “I just thought that maybe the two cases were
connected somehow.”

“They are,” Nick said so quietly I wondered
if he meant for me to hear it at all.

Just to be sure I wasn’t hearing things, I
said, “What?”

Nick cleared his throat. “Can you meet
somewhere to talk? Tonight?”

Part of me wanted to say yes—needed to—and I
didn’t know why. It seemed to be a deeply rooted feeling. Almost
instinctual. My brain, however, had the final say this time. “Nick,
that’s not a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I’m working,” I reminded him.

“Is that the only reason?”

“So, did you and Bobby hang out at any new
clubs back then before the night of our birthday?” I asked,
ignoring his question and changing the topic.

Seeming irritated, Nick exhaled heavily.
“There were a couple we thought about going to because they didn’t
card, but only one like the ones you’re describing… Brooke, I
really think we should discuss this in person. It’s…more
complicated than you realize.”

“What was the name of this club?” I
continued, hoping it was one of the four we were investigating.

Nick hesitated before conceding.
“
Gianna’s
. But, Brooke, I’m serious. You can’t go there
alone.”

“
Gianna’s.
” I leafed through the
papers on my desk until I found my list of nightclubs. “That one’s
not on my list. Doesn’t really sound like the type of club I’m
looking for, either.”

Nick chuckled. “It’s not like the owners
want to advertise what kind of club they’re running, babe. Not to
mention, it’s not exactly a club that everyone is privy to,” he
told me.

My fingers moved across my keyboard at
lightning speed as I tried to pull up any and all information about
this club as possible. I found nothing except for a couple of
Italian restaurants across the country and a hair salon in New
York.

Nick continued speaking. “We only heard
about it from some woman at a party who’d claimed she was a regular
blood doll.”

I froze, a shiver rolling down my spine, and
my stomach rolled. “Blood doll?”

“Someone who offers themselves up to be fed
from,” he clarified hesitantly, like he regretted telling me in the
first place, and I resumed my typing. “You won’t find anything
online,” Nick informed me, somehow knowing what I was up to. “The
club moves often, and it’s very secretive. People get in by
invitation only.”

There it was again…
invitation only
.
Why did that try to register every time I heard it? It had to mean
something, but what?

“And you and Bobby went? To what? Be
blood dolls?
”

“Brooke, I really don’t think we should talk
about this over the phone. There’s so much you don’t
understand.”

Frustrated, I sighed. “Then help me.”

“I’m trying. But I need to see you. I need
to make sure you’re okay.” Concern laced his voice, and I wasn’t
entirely sure why.

I ignored his plea to see me again and
repeated my question. “Did you and Bobby go to this club?”

Silence.

“Nick,” I breathed, feeling slightly
betrayed.

“It wasn’t like that, I promise. We thought
it would be different. It’s not like we sought the place out
initially. She approached us at that party, we only decided to use
the invitations to see what all the hype was about.”

That’s
when it hit me.

“The club we went to on our birthday,” I
mumbled. “Bobby said he got the tickets from some girl at a party.”
My anger flared, and I started to growl. “You took me to a secret
wannabe-vampire club?”

“We didn’t think she was serious,” he tried
to justify. “We were curious.”

Taking a beat, I attempted to get back to my
line of questions. I couldn’t change the past, but I should be able
to use it to help me find this place. “So, are you sure it’s
involved in the vampire subculture? What exactly did this woman you
met say?”

“Brooke—”

“How do I find out where it is?” I inquired
further.