“Like sulfur?”
“Yeah. Exactly like sulfur.” He takes a drink of coffee. “He told us his name was Ben. He was quiet at first, but I knew something was wrong with him. He’d show up at night, turn down food, and walk around talking to the other guys. Then he told us about a place we could go to make a little cash but wouldn’t give any details.”
“Did you find out what he was referring to?”
“Of course I did. Two guys went. Came back with a hundred bucks each. Way more than a little cash if you ask me. So more guys went, but not all came back with cash. Everything was very hush-hush…until one of the guys who went the first time never came back. And before you ask—yes, I found out what happened. He became severely anemic and died. Did some more digging and found out more.”
He stops, adds sugar to his coffee, and takes another drink. Anxious to hear more, I drum my fingers on the table.
“Turns out, the guys were getting paid to donate blood. Off the record. After hours.”
“Where?”
“The HealthLife Center.”
Holy shit. The HealthLife Center is a free clinic…and just down the street from Delirium.
21
I roll out my yoga mat and stretch my arms over my head. Sore from getting roughed up the last few days, my muscles are stiff and tight. Not working out for several days in a row has left me feeling a little lazy, too, and now’s not the time to get out of practice.
I put my earbuds in, crank up my music, and start with a warm-up. I move into a sun salutation, focusing on my breathing and nothing else. With my eyes closed and the music pumping in my ears, I don’t hear the front door open and close. The floor vibrates and my eyes fly open.
Through my legs, I see Thomas and Gilbert in the threshold of the living room, admiring my ass. I stand up and pull the earbuds out.
“Don’t stop because of us,” Thomas says with a smirk.
“We’ll gladly keep watch,” Gilbert agrees.
Bringing my arms over my head in a stretch, I cross the room and stop in front of Thomas. He looks as human as ever. There is no gray at all left in his skin. The claws have retracted back on his hands, and even the fangs aren’t as obvious. The same goes for Gilbert, worlds different than the first night they woke up.
“Morning,” I say with a smile. “I’m guessing you’re hungry?”
Thomas smiles. “You know me well.”
“I have a casserole in the oven. Hopefully it’s good. You know I’m not much of a cook.” I look past them and see Hasan and Jacques on the porch, looking out over the yard. Jacques says something, body tensing, and takes off, wings spread in flight.
I’ll never get used to the sight of him soaring into the air.
“You’ve said that,” Gilbert starts. “Do you have servants who cook for you?”
“No,” I reply with a laugh. “Nowadays, you just go pick up your food from restaurants. I wish I could take you with me someday.”
“Someday,” Thomas echoes.
We go into the kitchen and the twins set the table while I check on dinner, though I’m not sure exactly what I’m checking on. I followed the recipe and still have five minutes left on the timer before I’m supposed to take it out.
Hasan comes in right as I’m putting bowls of salad on the table, stopping behind me. He wraps his arms around my middle, and I put the last bowl down and twist in his embrace, hooking my arms around his neck. He kisses my cheek, beard rough on my skin. Shivers go down my spine, and I have to stand on my tippy toes to even come close to kissing him back.
“Do you need help?” he asks, breaking away from me.
“Uh, you could fill glasses with water.”
He nods and goes to the cabinet for the glasses. I take a moment, watching the guys help get the table ready for dinner, and realize how much I’ve wanted this for years and years. I’ve wanted it so much it turned into a dull ache in my chest, one I was starting to lose hope on ever obtaining.
A family.
Albeit a weird, dysfunctional family with four members here more or less against their will. I never thought I’d trust these guys, but it’s there and it’s growing. And I like them.
“I think I had a dream last night,” Thomas tells me.
“You dreamed?” Gilbert asks his brother. “I haven’t had a dream in a thousand fucking years. The last dream I remember was before the curse. It was about a dark-haired whore from the brothel outside of town.”
I roll my eyes. “You can’t call women ‘whores’ anymore, you know. Even if they sell themselves for sex. It’s considered an offensive insult now.”
“What do you call them, then?”
“Well, it’s illegal, but they’re called prostitutes.”
Thomas makes a face. “That’s a weird word.”
“I guess. And there’s only a few brothels in the country that operate legally.”
“Interesting.” Thomas shrugs. “I always thought they were crude.”
“Not crude enough to stop going,” Gilbert mutters under his breath.
I laugh. “Times have changed, right?” I look at Thomas. “What was your dream about?”
He flashes me a cocky grin and wiggles his eyebrows. “You.”
Hasan puts another glass of water on the table. His hands are so big they dwarf the glass. “I think I had a dream, too. I don’t remember people, only feelings.”
“That’s a good sign, right?” I ask. “Becoming more and more human would make it easier to break the curse. You all look much more human than the first night you woke up.”
“We don’t dream.” Jacques’s voice is sharp behind us, startling me just a bit. I quickly turn around, finding him a few feet back in the darkened hall connecting the kitchen to the dining room. His wings block out any light behind him. Still, I notice the bits of gray coloring left on his skin, mottled and blotchy. That pained look is back on his face, and it hurts my heart. I want to go to him, put my lips against his, and feel my heart beat in tempo with his heart.
But I don’t. Instead, I turn the timer off with a few minutes to spare and pull the casserole from the oven. No one speaks as we fill our plates and sit around the table.
“You didn’t get very much,” Hasan says to me, eyeballing the small portion of food on my plate.
“I already had dinner,” I tell him. “With a crazy homeless man who had great info on the vampires.” Everyone stares at me. “I’ll explain,” I say, and recap everything Mr. McMillan told me.
“All signs point to the bar. And I did some more digging. The free clinic opened half a year after the bar. And they get a large donation every quarter from the people who own said bar.”
I look up, a smile on my face. I always feel a rush when I get a break in a case. I’ve been chasing this lead for days and finally got through to something.
“You’re right,” Thomas agrees. “It’s too big of a coincidence to be just that.”
“There are pretty strict regulations when it comes to donating blood,” I tell the guys, who thought the concept was weird. “I mean, you’ll always run into people who don’t follow protocol, but if a lot of blood went missing, it would be noticed. People would be fired and it’d get looked into. From what I’ve heard, it seems like the vampires really don’t want to be found, especially if they’ve been here for hundreds of years.”
I get up and go to my bag, pulling out a folder full of files. “I had an officer pull all unsolved cases with blood loss as the cause of death. I filtered through them to the ones that could be vampires, and most of these victims are homeless.”
“People no one will look for or even notice if they go missing,” Jacques finishes.
“Right,” I say, excitement building. I’m getting closer and closer to cracking this thing.