Page 22 of Damian’s Conquest

“Okay, I’ll stop by at Sam’s and at Andrew’s, but Tanja lives all the way out in the Richmond, near Beth’s. Why don’t you check in with Tanja too?” Damian asked.

“No problem, but I’ve gotta leave now, or I won’t get a wink of sleep before I have to be back here tonight. Unless you want to work tonight?”

“No chance.” He had more important things to do. “But I’ll go through the rest of the security tapes to see if the thief was captured by any other cameras.”

“Sounds good. Keep me posted,” Patrick said. He turned to the door. “Oh, and do you think we need to tell Amaury or my dad?”

“I’m afraid so. A case of human blood bottled by Scanguards disappearing is a security risk. But let me handle it. I’ll speak to my dad tonight. Maybe by that time, we’ll already know who took the crate.” And why.

“Thanks, appreciate it.”

Patrick left, and the door snapped shut behind him, leaving Damian alone with his thoughts.

Something felt off. Why would anybody steal the blood that was provided to the vampire employees of the Mezzanine? The blood that Scanguards procured via a blood bank and then bottled was provided free of charge to discourage the staff from feeding directly from humans, minimizing the risk of exposure. The blood was only of value to a vampire—unless a human wanted to use it as evidence for something. Or to back up a story.

11

It was already midday, when Naomi arrived at the apartment building that bordered on the lot occupied by the Mezzanine nightclub. Mrs. Zhang, an Asian woman in her late sixties, had buzzed her into the building, and was now ushering her into the neat two-bedroom flat. And the place was very neat—obsessively so.

“So the paper sent you,” Mrs. Zhang said in flawless English. “I’d already given up on anybody listening to me. The police certainly didn’t. But then, I’m used to the police not taking me seriously. They have it in for me. Ever since I made a complaint about one of their officers. They never fired him. Instead, they all stood behind him, claiming I made everything up. I think it gives them pleasure to see me suffer.”

Naomi forced a friendly expression onto her face, when she wanted to roll her eyes. Already now she realized whom she was dealing with, and she hadn’t even spent a full minute in Mrs. Zhang’s presence yet. The woman was a complainer, a person who could find fault with anything. On top of it she felt persecuted for whatever reason. And she was a busybody who stuck her nose into everybody’s business. Naomi wasn’t surprised that the police had dismissed her claim of a satanic blood ritual going down at the Mezzanine.

From everything Naomi had seen the night before, there was no indication that anything odd was going on in the club. Well, maybe a secret room off the manager’s office was a little odd, but the room clearly wasn’t meant for any satanic rituals, but for something much more enjoyable.

Just thinking of Damian and how he’d made her feel sent a wave of heat through her core, scorching her from inside. She pushed the thoughts away to concentrate on the woman who was now offering her to sit on the sofa.

“Thank you, Mrs. Zhang. Could you please tell me a little more about what you saw happening at the club and when?” Naomi pulled a small notepad and a pen from her handbag.

“That club is a bad influence, a sore in the neighborhood. A bad influence for the young. The things that happen there… And what I saw didn’t just happen once. It’s been going on for a few weeks now. Most nights, well, at least four or five times a week, I see them. You know, with blood on them.”

“Who do you see?”

“Men, young ones. They’re well-dressed, you know like rich kids. Still, even with their money they can’t disguise that they’re not decent people. I could tell immediately. They were bad. I saw the blood on their clothing, and their faces too. You know, blood splatter. I watch Forensic Files, I know what it looks like. As if they slaughtered somebody.”

Her claim sounded far-fetched, but Naomi had promised her editor to look into this, so she would give it her best effort. “And from where could you see that much detail?”

“Oh, you don’t believe me?” She rose. “Come. You can see very well from my bedroom.”

Naomi followed her as she walked into the bedroom, which looked just as neat as the rest of the flat, almost as if nobody ever slept in the bed. There wasn’t a single wrinkle in the sheets.

“Here,” Mrs. Zhang said and pulled the net curtain back.

Naomi stepped closer. She had to admit that from this window, there was indeed a direct view of the back entrance of the club, and the dumpsters lining the alley next to it. “I see. And at what time of the day did you see these, uh, men with blood on them?”

“Always at night. It’s always dark.”

Naomi raised an eyebrow.

“There are lights over the back exit. I see very well at night.”

The words sounded like a reprimand. It appeared that Naomi’s raised eyebrow hadn’t escaped Mrs. Zhang’s notice.

“And you said this didn’t just happen once?”

She nodded. “Several times now I’ve seen them with blood.”

“How many men?”