Creature of Habit (Book 3) (18 page)

Chapter 31

Grant

With a new set of leads, we left Black Mountain to find Emmanuel. Amy’s story, coupled with what we knew about Emmanuel from Sebastian and Ryan, forced us to look at something different—other vampires with high-risk behavior, like Gabriel’s friend, Raymond.

“So you think Emmanuel came back to Sebastian?”  Amelia asked, as the car wove through the sloping hills of Virginia.

“He must have. I don’t know how or when he had access, but then again, I don’t live with the coven. It’s possible he approached him during a hunt, or when no one else was at home.”

“And did what? Told him to go on a vampire murder spree?”

“I don’t know.” I glanced at Amelia. “Tell me again what he said and did the last time you saw him.”

“I’ve already told you—a dozen times.”

“Tell me again,” I demanded but added, “Please.”

“Nothing. I mean, we fought off Caleb’s minions. He protected me and seemed impressed that I held my own, in a hurry to get back to you on the mountain.”

I sighed, hoping there was something more, but he’d hidden his issues from me and the others—well, other than his concern about me and Amelia.

We left the rural edge of the city and crossed into D.C. The change was abrupt and the GPS blipped and talked me in the right direction. Amelia laughed in her seat.

“What?” I asked.

“You—using a GPS. What’s that all about?”

I shrugged. “Why not? Technology is useful. Trust me, I lived in a world without indoor bathrooms.”

“You don’t use the bathroom.”

“No, but everyone else does, and even with enhanced senses indoor plumbing is a major bonus. I’m not one to look past modern advancements.”

The voice on the computer instructed me that our location was just ahead. I sped past it.

“Uh, what’s the point if you don’t follow directions?”

“We’re going in on foot. I just wanted to scope it out first.”

The neighborhood had been built around the time of my death, skinny two story homes, with small, functional porches. Some were in better condition than others, the community in some state of resurgence. I found a quiet side street and parked in a darkened spot.

“Are you ready?” I asked.

“We’re just going to talk to some vampire, right? See if he’s connected to Emmanuel?”

“Yes, but it could be dangerous. I’ve explained that Haskell runs an underground blood bank for the vampires in this community.”

“Which is crazy and makes no sense.” She gave me a look. Our world had revealed to be much larger than Amelia ever considered. The concept that the Palmers’ control was limited to a small area of the south east had been difficult to process. Make no mistake, we carried weight though out the vampire world, particularly due to Miles’ influence with the Council, but that didn’t necessarily make us allies either.

“These people have to eat—and when you live in a metropolitan area they have to be careful. He’s very successful.”

“Where do they get the blood?” she asked.

“None of my business.”

We got out of the car and walk down the cracked, old cement sidewalks. The houses provided a variety of sounds and smells. Humans living in various conditions.  Some wealthy, others nearly destitute. The scent of the old lingered in some of the homes—people living toward the end of their lives, their bodies and homes decaying at the same time.

“How do you do it?” she asked suddenly. We’re at a street corner, standing under a blinking, yellow traffic light.

“What?”

“Turn on and off the compassion—the need to do what’s right outside of what you claim is your personal responsibility.”

Her words had bite, laced with sincere confusion. “This world is much larger than just our coven. I can’t control what happens everywhere.”

She frowned and made a sound of discontent. Her heartbeat kicked up a notch.

“Steady,” I said, slipping my hand into hers.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re annoyed. It sparks your pulse.”

“I’ve got it under control.”

Sure enough, the sound faded to a small hum, indistinguishable from the other human noises nearby.

“Impressive,” I said, meaning it.  I glanced to the houses in front of us, focusing on the large, gray, crumbling one. ‘No Trespassing’ signs were bound to the rusted chain-link fence.  “This is it.”

“Huh.” Amelia looked the building up and down. “Doesn’t really look like the headquarters for a successful business.”

I laughed. “Not all of us desire the trappings of the Palmer Foundation.”

“Oh, you mean he isn’t obsessive compulsive with an intense desire to appear better than everyone else?” She bit her bottom lip, daring me.

“Looks can be deceiving, Love.”

We entered through the rusted gate, and I closed the latch with a quiet click. One faint light filtered from a downstairs window, otherwise the house appeared abandoned.  At the door, I knock evenly, wondering why it was so quiet.

“Is he gone?”

I shook my head and grasped the door knob. It opened easily and we found ourselves in small foyer, lit only by a single candle. Peeling wallpaper curled up toward the ceiling. A small movement and groan brought my attention to the adjoining room, and I cut in front of Amelia to look inside.

A parlor of sorts sat on the other side of the open doorway, filled with old furniture and dust. Foggy lanterns hung from hooks in the ceiling, casting the room in a yellow glow. Several people lounged on the filthy cushions, eyes glazed.

“Do you smell that?” Amelia asked, her tongue darting in the air.

“Yes.”

She pushed past me and walked in the room. Stopping before a man with stringy hair and dirty hands, she reached down and took an object from his hand. She held it up. “A syringe? They’re shooting up blood.”

“Looks like it.” I don’t try to hide the disgust from my voice. “Put that down and let’s go.”

She looked from the needle to the man in front of her. His hand dropped like a dead weight to his side. He was oblivious to our presence. I moved to her and snatched the syringe from her hand, tossing it on the couch. “Let’s go.”

We went back to the foyer and turned left, heading down the main hall. The next door took us to the kitchen where three refrigerators were pushed against the wall. I opened the door to one and found rows and rows of containers holding blood. Running my hand through my hair I muttered, “This is a waste of time.”

A movement in the doorway caught my attention and I slammed the refrigerator door shut to get a better look. A woman stood in the hazy light. Clean and put together. Her hair was long and dark. Her eyes narrowed but slightly amused.  “Is there a reason you’re snooping around my product?” she asked.

“I’m looking for Haskell.”

“I’ll need to know why. He’s a very busy man.”

I took a step forward, leaving Amelia behind me. Catching the woman’s eye I held it, pushing into her psyche. “Is Haskell here?”

She hesitated for only for a split second. “Yes.”

“Please take me to him.”

She blinked, processing the request. Her mind was weak even if she thought otherwise. The compulsion worked easily.  “Follow me.”

I glanced over my shoulder and held my hand out for Amelia’s. As she fell into step she said, “I’m so glad that doesn’t work on me.”

I laughed. “Me too. Most of the time.”

~*~

Haskell was young when he turned. Younger than I’d been. He carried the look of a savvy business man, on the frame of a kid who should still be playing basketball and thinking of taking a girl to the prom.

We’d left the shady kitchen for the upstairs, the décor altering with each step. The walls were clean, the carpet soft. No dust or filth. The polished bannister curved around the top of the stairway and the girl lead us directly to his office. A small, but well-furnished former bedroom. Haskell greeted us with a curious eye, but that shifted when he saw me face to face.

“Grant Palmer.”

I nodded. “Yes.”

“I’ve always wanted to meet you.” He offered his hand. I shook it.

“Is that so?”

“Yes,” he declared, gesturing to the leather couch pushed against the wall. “Have a seat.”

Amelia and I sat down, facing the eager vampire. I thought for sure we’d be in for a fight once I compelled my way in, but clearly I’d anticipated the situation wrong.

Haskell leaned back in his seat, tenting his hands together. “So the Vigilante Vampire CEO has come to see me. You’re either here about business or you’re tracking that shady-as-hell vampire situation going around right now.”

“What situation would that be?” I asked.

“So the latter. That’s okay, we can talk business another time. I have a lot of ideas I’d like to run by you.”

“I’m not sure how my business and yours would correlate but sure, when I have more time I’d be happy to discuss your thoughts,” I said patiently. “But tell me more about the situation you’re aware of.”

Haskell shrugged. “Most of it is just rumor, but that’s part of our currency around here. Come in for a hit of the good stuff, pay up with cash and tip with gossip. I don’t get out much, and I like to keep up on current happenings.”

“What have you heard?”

He leaned forward. “Crazy shit. Vampires fighting each other. People going off in the head. One minute everything’s normal—the next it’s like a switch has been flipped.”

“What do they do when that switch is flipped?”

“Mostly hunting and changing humans, but high-risk style. Middle of a bar or tourist district. We had someone go batshit on the Metro two weeks ago. Attacked a woman in a full subway car.”

“I read something about the attack but wasn’t sure if it was vampire related. Drugs had been the police theory, but the bite? It seemed to lead toward one of ours.”

“Definitely ours,” Haskell confirmed. “A guy that came around here some. That’s what shocked me. Being urban, we keep things on the DL pretty good. If you need a hit of human blood you come here. My door is always open.” The rings on his fingers glinted in the light. He smiled. “For a price, of course.”

“Of course.”

“What happened to the guy?” Amelia asked, speaking for the first time since we entered the room. “The one that attacked the people on the Metro?”

“Oh, he’s dead.”

“Who killed him?” I asked.

“Some other vamp. Came in and snapped his fucking neck. Some of my clients found him in an ash pit near the homeless camps.”

Amelia stiffened next to me. We both knew instinctively it had been Sebastian that took him out.

“Did anyone see the murder?”

“No.”

What were you doing
, I thought to myself, leaning back on the couch. I tried to sort the information out in my head.

“What happened to the fledglings?” Amelia asked.

“I don’t know,” Haskell said. “I don’t play with kids.”

“Twice now,” she said, “he’s gone after someone who’s indiscriminately creating fledglings.”

“Isn’t that what was happening down near your territory?” Haskell asked.

“Not exactly,” I said, but the seed took root. “Caleb had a personal issue with me.”

“But he kidnapped people and created a lot of fledglings,” Amelia noted. An image of the children at the campground filled my head. Dozens of children. I’d been forced to kill them all.

“He did,” I agreed. “But that was about Olivia and… well, you know.”

“I do,” she said, eyebrows knitting in the middle. “But what we don’t know is what made Caleb catch onto you in the first place? I mean, sure he’d been harboring that rage for a long time, but why did he suddenly decide to come after her?”

Haskell watched us closely as the pieces slowly click together. “So your guy, Caleb, he was part of this same…”

“Game,” I said, before he could find the word. I ran my hands over my face. “It’s a game and… fuck.”

“What?” Amelia asked.

“We’re all just pawns. Me, Sebastian, Olivia... even that fucking bastard Caleb.”

Haskell leaned closer, looking between the two of us. “By who? Who’s doing this?”

Amelia spoke first. “Emmanuel. He’s been involved all along.”

Chapter 32

Amelia

Haskell knew Emmanuel. Or of him at least. Several of his clients had run-ins with him over the years. The word on the street was that he was incredibly attractive but strange. He spooked the other vampires by getting in their heads.

“Sounds like a high level of compulsion,” Grant said, after we left. “When I do it, I definitely get in the person’s head but it’s just a nudge—short term and typically nothing nefarious.”

“Have you ever used it that way?” I asked. “Nefariously?”

He was quiet, hands shoved in his pockets, eyes on the ground. “During my down years. Yes. But nothing like this. Nothing to ever have people hurt other people. Just more to get my way.”

“Emmanuel seems to be more skilled.”

He didn’t like the idea that someone had more talent than he does, that was clear from the set of his shoulders. Even so, he replied indifferently, “Seems like it.”

“Well, what do we do?”

“Keep moving and find him. Between him and Sebastian we have a pretty specific trail to follow.”

We reached the car.

“Are you hungry? Want to hunt?” he asked, brushing my cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah. I think so.”

“Come on. We’ll get out of town a little.”

A little is a hundred miles, but at the speed Grant traveled it didn’t take long. The woods were dense even in mid-winter.

“You know what I’d like?” I said, standing over the consumed deer.

“What?” He smirked at me. Something about me hunting gave him a thrill. It was probably similar to me watching him fight. Muscles at work. Mind sharp.

“A bear. Like a really big one.”

He nodded. “They’re hibernating. But in the spring, sure.”

“Have you heard from Ryan?” I asked.

“He’s in Chicago. Had a tip up there, but I’m not sure he’ll find anything. Bass seems to be headed straight North East.”

“Is Adam still with him?”

“Yes. They seem to be doing okay together.”

We walked back the way we came, past the broken branches and the churned up dirt from where I tackled the deer. Grant slipped his hand in mine. “It must be hard on him. Losing his brother like this.”

“There’s always been a struggle between them. They handled transitioning differently from the beginning. What we know about Emmanuel may explain some of that now.”

“Why do you think he singled out Sebastian?” I questioned. The thought had crossed my mind more than once.

“I don’t know. Maybe he looks for a certain weakness of mind. It sounds like he paid more attention to Sebastian from the beginning—even before he killed their mother. Ryan was immobilized for most of the attack. Emmanuel made Bass watch while he tortured her and then later him, mercilessly.”

A feeling of regret and disgust rolled in the pit of my stomach. “How does it make you feel to know Caleb may have been involved with him?”

He tilted his head and looked up at the barren, leafless tree tops. “It feels like I’m really fucking out of control, and maybe I never had any in the first place.”

I grabbed him by the fabric on the front of his jacket. “That’s not true.”

He looked down at me, his face pale in the gray morning light.  “Isn’t it?”