Dead-tective (Book 1): Vampire Dead-tective (4 page)

"So there's a way I can get out of this mess?"

"Oh no, there's no way in hell you're getting out of this mess. Or rather, you
are
in hell and there's no way out."

I numbly stood and my shaky legs tried to collapse, but I grasped the back of my chair. "I-I think I need to get back to my apartment. I have some-um, some pants to fold."

Bat smiled and shook his head. "I'm afraid that wouldn't be a good idea. You may as well accept that your old life has vanished."

"Um, no? I'm not going to through aside twenty-well, a lot of years of living because of a one-night stand with Count Creepy here." I gestured to Vincent, who was amused by my title for him.

"You mistake my meaning, Miss-?"

"Stokes," I finished for him.

"Miss Stokes, you're very much mistaken in my intentions toward you. I only want the best for you and that ring you wear." He nodded at the metal band around my finger. "After all, both of you are the only possessions we have of Tim, and I'm sure he'd want his friends and-" he frowned and glanced at Vincent. "-er, acquaintances to care for them."

"First off, I'm nobody's possession. Second, I think this is all some horrible dream and if I ran into a wall I'd probably wake up," I countered.

Bat smiled and waved his hand at the far wall to my right. "Go right ahead, Miss Stokes, but be careful not to hit too hard. We wouldn't want you to receive a concussion for nothing."

I looked at the wall and decided maybe this wasn't a dream. "Or maybe I just need a really long nap and I can decide what to do after that," I suggested.

"I have a comfortable couch somewhere in this mess," Bat offered.

"My bed would work better, and I wouldn't want to trouble you guys." I backed up toward the entrance. "I mean, I've been enough trouble and-" My back hit something hard, and I didn't need to look around to know it was Vincent's body. My face fell and I tilted my head back to find myself staring into his dark eyes. "You're not going to let me leave, are you?"

"We can't, Miss Stokes," Bat insisted as he walked around the desk. "It's in all of our best interests that you stay here, at least for tonight."

I glared at the old man. "You think I'm so important with this ring, then why don't you have this stupid thing." I raised my ring hand, grasped the ring and gave it a hard pull. It didn't budge, and the only reward for my effort was a sore finger. I pulled again, but with the same painful result. "Anybody have a can of grease or oil?" I asked them.

Bat chuckled and walked up to me. He pointed at the ring. "That's stuck to you until you can learn to get it off."

"Learn to get it off? I'm pretty sure rings are supposed to just slip off," I shot back.

"Not this one. This one's a very unique ring."

I rolled my eyes and dropped my arms to my side. "I know, I know, forged with blood and some voodoo magic to bind us."

Bat raised an eyebrow and glanced at Vincent. "So this bag of hydrated dust has told you some things?" he guessed.

"Only that I'm stuck with him, but not for how long and how I'm supposed to get out of this mess," I replied.Bat

"I can possibly give you answers to both those questions, but I'm afraid you're not going to like them," Batholomew told me.

I shrugged. "You just told me I'm stuck in this weird place with two weirdos after being chased by some crazy guys with a werewolf. How can this night possibly get worse?"

"It can get worse because you're going to have quite a few more nights with such, shall we call it, fun?" he answered.

My jaw jutted out and I glared at him. "Come again?"

Bat smiled and walked over to my chair. He turned it toward me and gestured to the seat. "If you'd like to sit down I'll tell you what I can about that ring, our mutual friend Tim, and that ring that's stuck on your finger."

I frowned, but walked over and sat my butt down in the chair. I folded my arms across my chest, crossed my legs, and tapped a finger on my arm. "I'm listening."

Chapter 5

"First off, your partner here is someone whom you shouldn't trust," Batholomew told me. Vincent frowned, but remained silent. "Secondly, that ring is the only item keeping him from killing us both."

"Then this thing's not doing a very good job because he's already tried that twice," I quipped.

Batholomew raised an eyebrow. "Really? Was the bond awakened?"

"As soon as you tell me what exactly this bond is I can answer that." I jerked my thumb at the silent undead. For the first time I wished he'd speak up. "He told me I was stuck with him and he'd protect me. He also said this ring would give me some sort of vampire powers."

"For once he's told the truth," Batholomew mused. "The ring does give you abilities beyond those of a normal human being, but only so long as you wear it."

"Right now that's not a problem."

Batholomew frowned and seated himself on the end of his desk. A small avalanche of papers fell to the floor, but he ignored them. "Perhaps I'm going about this the wrong way. Let me start at the beginning with Tim. He inherited the ring a few centuries ago from the original owner, the human who's blood is encased in that ring."

I blinked. "Centuries? You mean years, don't you?" I asked him.

Batholomew smiled and shook his head. "No, I mean centuries. The ring granted Tim a sort of immortality. So long as he wore the ring and this idiot protected him, he wouldn't die."

My mouth slowly fell open and images of our lovemaking flashed through my mind. I shuddered. "Okay, that's just creepy. He didn't look a day over thirty."

"The ring froze his appearance, though I wish his mind had aged a little further," Batholomew mused with a playful grin on his face. He shook himself from his thoughts and pointed at the ring on my finger. "It has done the same to your appearance, and so long as there isn't another lapse in your protection then you will live a very long and eventful life."

"What if I don't want to live forever?" I countered.

"I'm afraid that's not an option. Once the bond is created only death can break it."

I stood so quickly I knocked my chair over. "So what the hell am I supposed to do for eternity? Pick up Social Security until I drain it dry?" I angrily asked them.

Batholomew slid off the desk and walked around the desk to his chair. "I recommend a hobby or an occupation." He paused in front of his chair and tapped a long nail against his chin. His eyes lit up with mischief. "Yes, that may work."

"What now?" I asked him, perfectly expecting more wonderful news.

"With Tim no longer with us his business will need a new owner. I think you would suit the role perfectly."

"Um, no?" I replied. Everything else I'd been dragged into that evening had been trouble.

Vincent had of the same opinion. "She isn't competent enough to manage the business," he spoke up.

Batholomew shrugged. "Perhaps not, but you can teach her."

Both Vincent and I jerked back in surprise. "No!" we shouted in unison.

The old man sat down in his chair and grinned at us over his entwined hands. "You two are getting along famously already. This should make your partnership much easier," he quipped.

"Are you listening to either of us?" I asked him. "I don't know what this business was, but if it had anything to do with Tim's death I don't think I want to work in it."

"I believe it was exactly why Tim was killed, or shall we say murdered," Batholomew replied. I flinched. That's how the cop had phrased it. "I see I hit the hammer on the nail. What can you tell us about his death?"

I cringed and hesitantly shrugged. "Only that the cops think he was murdered."

Batholomew leaned back in his chair and nearly fell over. "How interesting that the police would be involved. Tim's dealings were outside their capacity as enforcers of human laws."

I'd had enough with this talk of humans, vampires and werewolves. I nervously smiled and backed up away from the desk. "You probably have a lot to think about with Tim-well, with Tim not being around." I felt a lump in my throat at that thought. "So I'll leave you two guys alone to deal with this and just be on my way." I spun around and found myself staring into Vincent's coat. I jumped back and threw up my arms. "Come on! I have no idea what you guys are talking about or what you want from me, okay? I'm just a stupid office girl who had a strange roommate. That's it! Nothing special about normal old me!"

"Tim evidently thought you were special enough to room with," Bat countered.

I spun around and glared at Bat. "Tim's dead!" I shot back. I cringed at my own words and at the hurt expression on the old man's face, but I wouldn't give up my chance to leave Crazy-ville. I sighed and my shoulders drooped. "Please just let me go. I promise I won't tell anyone about this place or Vincent, or anything I saw tonight." Bat pursed his lips together, but nodded.

"Very well. We will let you return to your normal life," he agreed.

I narrowed my eyes and leaned my head toward him. "You're not fooling me, are you?"

"Fooling you?" he repeated.

"Yeah, tricking me. Making me think I can get out of here and then WHAM! You drag me back kicking and screaming and convince me to stay."

Bat chuckled. "No. You're free to go, and we won't stop you from returning to your old life."

I backed up away from the desk and my eyes flickered between the pair. "All right, then. I guess I'll be going."

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Stokes," Bat bid me farewell.

"The pleasure was all yours," I mumbled. I knocked my back into one of the research tables, and sheepishly grinned at him. "Um, being seeing you."

I swung around and sprinted toward the front door. There were no hurried footsteps behind me, no shouts to stop. I hit the door, flung it open, and burst out into the cool, clean night air. I took a deep breath of the city air and choked on some exhaust. Yep, I was free.

Unfortunately, I was also totally lost. I had no idea where I was, and with all the creepiness of that night I even doubted
when
I was. The stars would have been useful if I knew how to read them, but since I didn't know the Ursa Major from a C Minor I took off in a random direction. There were only four cardinal directions to go. How wrong could I be? Apparently very wrong.

I managed to get out of the forest of dilapidated factories and into one of the less luxurious parts of town. There were abandoned cars without tires, or even rims, and every window in the tall apartment buildings were broken. The roads were potholes with short strips of broken concrete. Walls that weren't spray-painted with graffiti were-wait, there were no walls that didn't have graffiti. Shop doors were ajar because thieves had already stolen everything of value, and on the stoops of several apartment buildings sat the thieves themselves. They leered at me, and I shakily smiled back and hurried on. Far off I heard sirens and gunshots. The sirens faded into the distance, but the gunshots got closer. The whole place made my crummy street look like Malibu-Fort Knox.

Some of those stoop stooges decided I looked like lost, which I was, and wanted to offer their help, which I didn't want. A particularly bad crowd, they had tattoos, buzz-cuts, and torn, blood-stained clothing, followed me off the steps of their wrecked apartment building. I nervously glanced back, and they hollered and hooted at me. It would take more than a few catcalls to flatter me, it would take them taking a bath.

I hurried my steps along the filthy street with no end to the ruin in sight. The men picked up their speed, and my instincts took over. They told me to run. I shot off down the street and the men gave chase, calling for me to stop and whispering sweet promises of rape if I stopped and rape-murder if I didn't. None of those choices sounded good to me, but they were much faster than me. I thought to lose them in the maze of alleys that were pocketed between the apartment buildings, so I shot into the first one I came to. Bad idea. It was a dead end, and the guys behind me meant to make that a literal title.

I ran a dozen yards down the alley before I realized a ten-foot tall brick wall stood in my path. I skittered to a stop and swung around to find the silhouette of the gang members standing in the opening to the alley. Their brass knuckles shined in the weak starlight, and their chuckles froze my blood. One of them, the leader, stepped forward. He was a particularly impressive specimen of his kind with yellowed, chipped teeth, a bald head that was marked with battle scars, and clothes that just screamed
run, ladies!

He looked me over with a lecherous grin. "You look a little lost, lamb," he remarked. His cohorts snickered and tussled each other for the line behind their leader. He had first grabs on me. "Want us to help ya out?"

"N-no, I'm fine. Just going for a night stroll," I replied.

"The night can be pretty dangerous," the man commented. He took a few steps toward me and towered over my small, quivering frame. "Why don't ya let us help ya? We don't ask much."

"I don't have any money on me, so I guess I'll just have to find my own way." I tried to slip past him, but he grabbed my shoulder and pulled my back against his large, stinking chest. His hands wrapped around me and pinned me to him.

He leaned down and his breath smelled like the bottom of a public toilet. "Not so fast, girlie. Let's have some fun first, and then we'll let ya go. Maybe." One of his hands reached up and cupped my breast.

I squirmed and pulled, but I couldn't free myself. "No! Please don't!" I cried out.

"The night is too dangerous for you," a smooth voice spoke up. The men and I glanced at the front of the alley and saw-actually, we didn't see anyone there.

I took advantage of the guy's distraction by slipping down out of his grasp and jumping away from him. Unfortunately, that way was toward the brick wall. "You'd better do what the creepy voice said or it'll, um, bore you to death," I warned them.

The leader blinked, and a grin replaced his confused expression. He let out a great, bellowing laugh, and his minions hesitantly joined in. The man sneered and glanced around at the shadows. "Whoever ya are get out here and face us! Or are ya too scared to mess with my gang?" he challenged.