She paused and raised an eyebrow as she glanced around at me. "Yes?"
"Why this place? You obviously can afford to go to one of the better establishments."
Surprise flitted across her features, then she smiled ruefully. "If I go to the other places, I might run into people I know." She shrugged, and there were shadows of unhappiness in her eyes. "I can't seem to give this craving up. I want to, but I can't. So I come here, where no one I know would ever come."
"Thanks, Mandy."
She nodded and traipsed out, though I fully expected her to get one more pleasure hit before she left the club. She had that hungry look in her eyes, despite the sadness I'd glimpsed.
The remaining two patrons couldn't tell me anything more. Neither of them recognized the victim's name, and they didn't even seem to care that someone had been murdered close by. The only thing they cared about was the inconvenience we were causing them.
I let them go, then switched off the recorder and shoved the phone back into my pocket. It was time to go home and catch up on some sleep.
I pushed to my feet and headed out the door. The interior of the club was still dark, despite the fact it was close to eleven. Obviously all the windows had been blacked out.
I walked over to the bar and motioned to the bartender. Business was obviously slow, because he was still chewing gum and polishing glasses.
"Your boss was going to leave me the address of a Henry Gateway."
He raised an eyebrow and, after a heartbeat, said, "The boss is on his way down again."
Damn. I did not need another confrontation with that vampire when my energy reserves were so low, but Starke was already gliding towards me, his body long and strong and beautiful, his skin glowing as if it was fired by the sun itself.
I blinked, and the image shattered. But not the desire.
I suddenly wondered if he were an emo vampire. Emos lived off emotion rather than blood, and they had the ability to augment the stronger emotions for their own feeding pleasure. A nightclub servicing the hungers of others would certainly be a perfect feeding ground for an emo vamp—and it would also explain my unusual reaction. I made a mental note to check his background when I got back to the Directorate.
He offered me a piece of paper. On it was Gateway's address. He lived close, meaning I might as well go see if he was home before I went that way myself. I folded the paper and shoved it into the back pocket of my jeans. "I don't suppose you have security cameras here, do you?"
"Regretfully, no. My patrons prefer not to have their exploits captured." He paused, mouth curving seductively. "What about you, Ms. Jenson? Do you like having your conquests recorded for future pleasure?"
"I prefer my pleasures to be of the moment," I said. Then, as the spark of desire burned deeper in his eyes, I added hastily, "Thank you for your assistance, Mr. Starke."
"Any time, sweet lady. Anytime."
I snorted and got the hell out of there. The brightness of the sun had my eyes watering after the gloom of the club, and I blinked several tears away and took a deep breath, clearing my lungs of the last vestiges of blood, desperation, and luscious vampire. Then I spun on my heel and headed for the parking lot.
Cole and his team had already left, and although the blue police tape still lined the lot, there were no cops guarding the perimeter. Obviously, Cole had gotten everything he needed and someone had simply forgotten to take, down the tape.
I climbed into my car and typed Gateway's address into the onboard computer. He only lived a few streets away, so it didn't take me long to get there.
Gateway's house, like so many others in this area, had a run-down, grungy façade. But the little strip of grass between the footpath and the roadside was neatly trimmed, and there were cheery geraniums lining the front fence. He obviously had a little more pride in his surroundings than was usual for this area.
I slammed the car door closed and made my way to the house. There was no bell so I knocked instead, my knuckles shaking loose several layers of dust as the sound echoed. I waited several minutes, then knocked again. The only response was the barking of a dog from the far end of the house. I wrapped my fingers around the knob and tried to turn it. The door was locked and I had no real reason to break into the house—although that had never stopped me before. But breaking in would mean more paperwork, and I really didn't have the energy for that right now. I'd have to come back later—or go back to the club to catch him there. Which wasn't something I wanted to do, despite the excited response from my pulse.
As I started walking back to the car, the dog's barking became more frantic. It wasn't the 'get away from here, this is my place' bark that canines all over the world used when strangers came to the door. It was more the 'something's wrong, I need help' type of bark.
Curiosity stirred. I stepped across the little garden bed and peered into the front window. The room beyond was a bedroom, but one that hadn't been slept in often if the dust coating the stacked pillows was anything to go by. The bedroom door was open, but I couldn't see much more than the shadows of a hallway.
There was a small metal gate to the right of the house, so I pushed that open and walked down the side. Several windows lined this section of the building, but the curtains were all securely closed. No surprise, given the owner was a vampire. The barking got louder as I neared the end of the old house. As I rounded a corner, a little white and brown terrier made a dash for my feet, nipped at my shoelaces, then raced back to the door. He mightn't be able to talk, but he was doing his best to tell me something was seriously wrong inside.
I peered through a window, but I couldn't see anything more than a washing machine that had walked half-way across the tiles and, beyond that, a basket half filled with clothes. I flared my nostrils, drawing in the air, sorting through all the different aromas. Again, nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
And yet the little dog was frantic.
I scooped him up and held him one-handed, then opened the screen door and tested the door handle. Like the front door, it was locked. A punch in the sweet spot just above the lock soon fixed that, but as the door swung open, the smell hit.
Something was dead inside.
Or someone, given the terrier's reaction. He had relaxed a bit now that I was holding him, but I could still feel the tension in his little body.
I walked around the wayward washing machine. A clock ticked softly in the silence and the air was warm—a fact which wouldn't have helped preserve whoever was dead.
The small hallway beyond was shadowed. There was a toilet to the left and an open doorway to the right. The source of the smell also seemed to be coming from that way.
The terrier started wriggling as I walked into the large kitchen-dining area. I gripped him a little tighter, not wanting him to shake himself loose and disturb whatever evidence there was to be found.
Sunlight streamed in from the window above the sink, lifting the gloom. A small table had been set for breakfast—which for this vampire was a packet of synth blood that now smelled off, and a cup of coffee that had long gone cold. The fridge held milk and more synth blood. Obviously, Gateway wasn't servicing enough customers at Dante's to keep himself fed.
I closed the fridge door then followed my nose, and found Gateway's body sprawled stomach down in the hallway. He was barefoot and wearing a towel around his middle, suggesting he'd just come out of the shower. His skin was pale and his body lean, his ribs and spine clearly evident. My gaze rose further and my stomach sank. Someone had separated his head from his neck, and the blood had pooled around his head like a dark, dried out halo.
Which meant there'd be no ghost hanging about to help.
I swore softly and spun around, walking back to the kitchen and closing the door behind me before releasing the little terrier and dragging out my phone. As the little dog whined and scratched at the door, I called my boss.