Page 10 of Blood & Bones

Finally, I silently began to stride down the alley. I glanced around, but the only sounds were coming from the bugs rustling through the dumpsters behind the businesses. Then I saw a form. Whoever—whatever it was—it was near the back door of a pizza place. The restaurant was closed for the night—it was past eleven by now—but I was fairly certain that I was seeing a person there. I whispered a soft plea that, whoever it was, wasn’t dead. I didn’t want to deal with another dead body.

But as I approached, the figure shifted, and I could make out a covering of newspapers falling to the side. An old man sat up—at least he looked old. He blinked as I stopped in front of him, and in the faint light reflecting down the alley from the street, I barely made out the fear on his face.

“I’d like to ask you a couple of questions,” I asked. “I’ll pay you if you answer.”

He shifted, sitting up to press his back against the brick of the building. “Don’t hurt me,” he pled, his voice soft.

“I’m not going to harm you,” I said. But my fangs were down—I was on the hunt, after all—and my eyes must have been glowing.

“Vampire.” His voice crackled.

“Yes, I’m a vampire,” I said, squatting down so that I was at his level. “I’m looking for another vampire—a beautiful woman, with golden hair, who’s pale and fair. She may have blood on her clothes.”

He slowly began to stand, keeping one hand against the wall. Looking more confused than anything at this point, he staggered to his feet, pressing back against the bricks. “What…where am I?”

My antennae sprang up. Something wasn’t tracking right. If he were just a homeless old man, chances are he’d know where he was. He began to shake, and he shook his head, his gaze darting around. I steeled myself. He wasn’t just some old man, nope—I could see that in his movements. He was too quick, and even though he was shaking, he wasn’t feeble. No, I could see the strength rippling through him.

He looked at me directly now, and his eyes were starting to glow crimson, and his fangs lowered as reason left his eyes. He hissed, lunging at me, and I darted out of the way.

Crap, he was a vampire—he must have just turned.

Newly minted vampires usually had superstrength thanks to the body-shock of just being turned. And he wouldn’t know what to do, so he’d attack anyone or anything nearby.

Without a thought, I flipped front-wise, a la Bruce Lee, bringing my heels raking down his face. As he staggered back—more from the shock than my attack—I launched myself over his head to rebound off the wall and land behind him. I grabbed him around the neck and held on tight.

He was strong, but I’d been a vampire a lot longer, and the longer you were a vampire, the stronger you got. I glanced around the alley and saw a bottle lying next to where he’d been sleeping. Holding him with my right arm, I swept the bottle up with my left hand and smashed it against the wall, so I was holding the jagged neck of it.

He struggled, but there wasn’t much he could do in this position, and I brought the bottle back, then thrust it forward, driving it into his back to pierce his heart. He froze, then turned to dust. The dust trickled down, then swept away in the breeze.

Coughing, I shook off the dust and dropped the bottle. I leaned against the brick, steadying myself as I stared at the homeless man’s nest. I hated having to kill a new vamp—they were so fragile, so feral, and usually unable to control themselves if their sire left them to their own devices. Dredge had done that, given me an order and then sent me out into the world in a blood-hungry rage.

This man hadn’t asked to be turned, of that, I was sure. He’d probably been simply another chew toy for the vampire, and that she’d taken a second victim told me she wasn’t going to stop. If I didn’t find her, her string of victims was going to stretch out until she was found and dusted.

There were leaders of the vampire community down in the underground who might be able to help me, but I didn’t know any of them. They took rogue vamps seriously because the chaos produced by an uncivilized vamp could destroy all the work being put into securing the Vampire Rights Act. I did, however, know a couple of vamps from the bar, and they might be able to introduce me in case I needed their help.

I gingerly sorted through the man’s effects, finding a wallet that had no money and a Veterans Administration card. It had his ID on it, so I pocketed it. Chase could see if he had any family in the area. I also found a couple of unopened bottles of booze, and a set of dog tags. The man had been in the army. Feeling abruptly sad that a soldier who had probably seen battle had been left on the streets like a cast-off tissue, I pocketed them, dumped the booze in a nearby Dumpster, and then—with no sign anywhere that my prey was nearby—I headed back to my Jag, wondering how we were going to catch this woman.

CHAPTER FIVE

By the time I got back to the bar, Jocko was about to close up. I straddled one of the stools, leaning my elbows on the counter.

“Any luck?” he asked, tossing me a bar rag. “By the way, Tavah’s friend came to collect Laddy. Here’s the number of where he’s staying. It’s like a group home for newly minted vampires, I gather. He’ll stay there for a day or so, then…well, I don’t know what will happen to him, but Tavah does, if you want to ask her.”

“Thanks,” I said as I began to clean the counter. “As to any luck—not really,” I said. “I ran into what I’m pretty sure is another one of the rogue’s victims. I had to put him down.” I pressed my lips together.

“I’m sorry,” Jocko said. “This must be hard for you…” He paused, then said, “You know they filled me in on your background when you came over Earthside.”

I shrugged. “I’m sure they gave you a sanitized version of what really happened.” I stared at the back of the bar, behind the rows of bottles. It was mirrored, but I could only see the bar rag moving by itself. I had no reflection to mark that I was really here. “He was an old homeless man—a veteran living on the streets, drinking to stave off the cold. And probably reality. She turned him and left him in a pile of newspapers, like garbage. Sometimes the callousness of my mother’s world astounds me.”

Jocko gave a little shrug. “I know, but it’s not any better over in Otherworld. Look at me. My family disowned me because I didn’t measure up to their standards, literally. I’m seven-three, and I might have been born a dwarf, for all it mattered.” He paused, then added, “My kind don’t really like dwarves either. In fact, giants tend to be pretty intolerant of anybody outside of the race. My father told me that I’d never belong. My mother loved me, but she had to obey him, so she couldn’t coddle me. One time, he left me on a mountaintop, as is the tradition with children who don’t fit their view of perfection.”

I glanced at him. “He left you on a mountaintop?”

“When I was seven. By then, we grow into what will be our size. If a child’s growth is stunted, it will show by then. And I was stunted. So, my father took me up one of the mountains in the Nebelvuorian range on a hunting trip. My mother didn’t realize what he was planning. He told me to stay there. He left me with one meal and a club. Then, he turned and left, whistling as he headed back down the slope.”

“Oh, Jocko,” I said, my heart going out to the big lug. He was truly good-hearted, and it was hard to imagine his family being so callous. “How did you—” I wasn’t sure how to phrase it.

Jocko let out a snort. “How did I survive?”