Marcus stood behind the now-headless vampire, his expensive jacket splattered with blood and chunks of brain matter. Those pale eyes fixed on Kaine with the kind of mechanical attention that suggested he was waiting for his next set of instructions.
Richard screamed and stumbled backward, his fancy shoes slipping on the wet asphalt. He went down hard, landing on his ass next to a dumpster. "What the fuck? What the actual fuck is happening?"
Kaine sighed and sheathed his scythe. The weight of it settling against his back was oddly comforting after the brief violence. "Time for some Q&A, Richard. And I'd suggest sticking to the truth, because my friend here doesn't like liars."
Marcus tilted his head at Richard with the kind of empty curiosity a cat might show a wounded mouse. Blood was still dripping from his claws onto the alley floor.
Richard scrambled backward until his shoulders hit the SUV's bumper, eyes wide enough to show white all around the pupils. "I don't know what you want from me! I was just trying to get away from Victoria! She's been acting completely insane ever since I brought up divorce!"
"Define insane," Kaine said, pulling out a cigarette. He didn't need it anymore, but the ritual was psychologically comforting—something normal in a world that had stopped making sense eighteen months ago and even worse, the last few days.
"Paranoid as hell, suspicious of everything I do. Keeps asking weird questions about my schedule, my friends, where I go during the day." Richard gestured helplessly at the headless corpse. "She accuses me of having affairs, but then gets pissed off when I try to prove I'm not cheating. I met Sarah at a bar three nights ago. She said she could help me figure out what Victoria was really up to."
'Classic honeytrap setup, but for what purpose?' Kaine reasoned.
Kaine studied Richard with senses that picked up more than human eyes could see. The man's body temperature was elevated, but that could be fear and adrenaline. Pupils dilated, but again—terror was a reasonable explanation. No obvious signs of vampire influence or supernatural corruption.
"Richard, has your wife been hanging around with anyone unusual lately? New friends, business associates, people who only show up after dark?"
"How the hell should I know? She won't tell me anything!" Richard wiped his face with hands that wouldn't stop shaking. "Every time I ask questions, she starts screaming about how I'm spying on her. Look, I just want out of this marriage, okay? Victoria can have half of everything. I don't care anymore. I just want to be somewhere safe."
The pieces weren't fitting together right. Victoria Ashford had hired him to investigate her husband's suspicious behavior. Richard Ashford was trying to escape what he saw as his wife's increasingly erratic behavior. And someone had sent a vampire to intercept Richard—either to turn him or kill him.
Either Victoria was behind this and trying to eliminate her husband in a way that looked like a random vampire attack, or someone else was playing both sides for reasons he hadn't figured out yet.
He looked at Richard's pale, sweating face and made a decision. The guy was clearly terrified and confused, but he wasn't showing signs of supernatural influence or deliberate deception. Just a middle-aged man caught in something way over his head.
"Here's my card." Kaine pulled out one of his business cards and tossed it to Richard, who caught it with fingers that were still trembling. "You're going to call me tomorrow night at exactly ten PM. If you don't call, I'm going to assume you're dead or turned, and I'll act accordingly."
Richard stared at the card like it might bite him. "What does that mean?"
"It means you should really, really make sure you call me tomorrow night."
Kaine turned to Marcus, who was still standing over the vampire's corpse like a museum statue waiting for someone to tell him what to do next.
"Come on. We're paying Mrs. Ashford a visit. Something about this whole situation smells wrong, and I want to know what we're really dealing with before someone else ends up as street pizza."
Marcus fell into step three paces behind him as they left Richard sitting next to his expensive SUV and the remains of what might have been his salvation or his destruction. The night was still young, and Kaine had a growing suspicion it was about to get a lot more complicated.
---
A woman entered Velvet Dreams fifteen minutes after the commotion outside had died down. She moved through the club like she owned it, dark hair cascading over one shoulder, designer glasses that were more fashion statement than necessity in the dim lighting. Her black dress clung in all the right places, and conversations stuttered to a halt as she passed.
"Excuse me, darling." She approached a nervous-looking server, her fingers trailing across his arm just long enough to make him blush. "I'm looking for someone. A man with a large weapon—a scythe, I believe? Tall, dangerous-looking. He would have been with a pale companion."
The server's eyes went wide with recognition and fear. "Oh shit, the hunter. Yeah, he went out back with some other guy. There was... Jesus, there was a lot of screaming."
"How delicious." Her smile was all predator wrapped in silk. "Which way?"
The server pointed toward the back exit, and she glided in that direction like she was floating instead of walking.
The bouncer near the rear exit stepped forward when she approached, but something in her gaze made his protest die in his throat. "Ma'am, you really don't want to—"
"I want to go exactly where I please." Her voice carried an undertone that made his objections evaporate like morning mist. "Step aside."
He did.
The alley behind the club looked like a crime scene from a particularly violent horror movie. The headless corpse of what had clearly been a vampire lay in a spreading pool of blood and brain matter, while twenty feet away, a middle-aged man in an expensive suit was having what appeared to be an increasingly frantic argument with someone inside a black SUV.
The woman removed her glasses, revealing sharp green eyes that catalogued every detail of the scene with professional interest.
Gwen.
She approached the arguing man with steps that made no sound on the wet asphalt, catching the tail end of his conversation.
"—don't care what you saw, Rodriguez! Just start the damn car and get us the hell out of here!"
"Richard Ashford." Her voice was quiet, but it cut through his panic like a blade.
The man spun around, his face already pale from whatever trauma he'd just survived. When he saw her, his expression shifted from panic to a different kind of fear—the instinctive recognition that he was looking at something beautiful and absolutely deadly.
"Who... who are you?"
"Someone who's very curious about your evening's entertainment." She gestured elegantly at the headless corpse with one manicured hand. "Tell me about the hunter. The one with the scythe."
Richard's hands were shaking as he looked between her and the vampire's remains. "I don't know anything about hunters. Some crazy guy showed up, started asking questions about my wife, and then..." He gestured helplessly at the blood painting the alley walls.
"Come now, Richard." Gwen stepped closer, and her presence seemed to fill the space between them like expensive perfume mixed with the promise of violence. "A man doesn't leave behind this kind of artwork without making an impression. What did he look like? What did he say? And more importantly..." Her eyes dropped to his clenched left fist. "What did he give you?"
Richard followed her gaze to his hand, which was clutching something against his chest like a talisman. "He said... he said I had to call him tomorrow night. If I don't, he'll assume I'm dead or turned."
"How dramatic," She laughed, and the sound was like breaking crystal wrapped in honey and razor wire. "And what exactly are you supposed to call him with?"
Richard's grip tightened on whatever he was holding. "I can't. He'll come after me if I don't—"
"Oh, darling." Gwen moved closer, close enough that he could smell her perfume and see the way the streetlight caught the predatory gleam in her eyes. "You're worried about the wrong monster."
Something about her presence made his bones feel like they were turning to water. The confidence that had carried him through decades of hostile business negotiations simply evaporated under her gaze. His hand began to tremble, and the business card started to slip from his nerveless fingers.
"There's a good boy." She plucked the card from his grip with movements that were both gentle and completely irresistible. "Kaine Cross, Private Investigation. How wonderfully convenient."
"Please." Richard's voice came out as barely more than a whisper as he pressed himself back against the SUV. "I just want to go home. I just want this nightmare to be over."
"Oh, it will be." Gwen studied the card with obvious satisfaction before slipping it into her purse. "But not quite yet."
She turned to leave, then paused, looking back over her shoulder with a smile that managed to be both reassuring and absolutely terrifying.
"Don't worry about calling Mr. Cross tomorrow night, Richard. I'll be making that call myself."
Her heels clicked against the asphalt as she disappeared into the shadows between buildings, leaving Richard alone with his fear, his driver, and the growing certainty that his problems had just gotten much, much worse.