Vampire-ville was what drew my eye.
Max Carlyle. Clyde Seabreeze. Ian Taft. Vampires I’d never heard of before—Chuck Masterson in Dallas. Fabian d’Argento in San Francisco. Theodore Welsh in D.C. Alejandro Vasquez in Las Vegas. On and on. A few of them were members of the message board, too. Clyde, the master vampire of Los Angeles, was more active than Royce. His thread was full of pictures of him modeling and posing for magazines and YouTube clips of him speaking on TV shows. Some of the links and pictures had even been posted by him. Overall, it wasn’t very interesting, though he was pretty to look at in a blond, blue-eyed, chiseled, James Dean knock-off way.
Actually, I take that back. After taking a closer look at his latest picture, make that brown with frosted tips. Yeesh. In that pose, lounging shirtless on a plush couch in some leather pants, and with that gleam in his eye that said he wanted to do bad things all night long, he could have given Royce a run for his money in the smoldering looks department. The vampire was prettier than he had any right to be. Hell, most of them were.
Reading the threads took my mind off my impending change. Any doubt that I was infected had been wiped away once my body decided that it was switching to a nocturnal schedule. Daylight dug into the back of my skull like daggers. As Rohrik had warned, loud noises now bothered me, and I found myself getting nauseous at the scent of things the others didn’t pick up on, even when I wasn’t wearing the belt. The only symptom I hadn’t shown yet, thank goodness, was a craving for rare or raw meat.
None of the hunters wanted to be around me while I was like this. Some of the threads on the OtherNet had confirmed my fears. I was showing almost every sign and symptom of having succumbed to the lycanthropy virus. My only consolation was knowing that, at least until I turned, I still had the use of the belt and I still had some time to find Chaz. Not much of it, and maybe no real leads to speak of, but I hadn’t given up yet.
Though I thought about getting in touch with Arnold now and again about that cure he’d promised to hunt for, and maybe to see if he’d had any word from Sara, the belt strongly advised against it. Since the belt had been a mage in life, I believed it when it said he wouldn’t have found anything that could help me. Plus the risks of being tracked by getting in touch with friends and family while so many were looking for me made it far too dangerous to chance. If Sara hadn’t been keeping in touch with Detective Smith, she might not have been contacting Arnold, either. The only real way to be sure what had happened to her would be to go back to Royce’s apartment building to see for myself—a prospect I knew I would eventually have to face, but was coming to dread.
Everyone else had long since gone to bed, and the moon had already set for the evening. The latest eye candy in Clyde’s thread soothed the burning in my eyes—but not as much as the pop-up alert that Hawk had finally replied. I nearly dropped the computer in my haste to see what his message said.
Sorry for the delay. Family and pack emergencies kept me AFK, and looks like your boy does a decent job of pulling a Houdini when he needs to.
Anyway, looks like newbsauce is staying with a beta, along with most of the dominant wolves in his pack. I’ve got an address for you. Don’t envy whoever they strong-armed into letting them camp.You need the Nightstrikers to help you raid? I wouldn’t take him in PvP unless you’re packing some heavy firearms.We can drive down to the city if you need us to get your back Don’t pull a Leeroy on this one.
I told myself the tears pricking my eyes were from the brightness of the screen combined with the lack of sleep, not the overwhelming gratitude that washed over me. As much as I could have used their help facing Chaz (and wondered what the hell a Leeroy was), I didn’t want to pull the geeky Weres into my mess.
I typed back a quick “thank you,” an insincere promise not to do anything rash, and asked for the address. He got back to me in less than a minute with the info and a warning.
I’m not j/k’ing.There’s something bad brewing in town,and he has something to do with it. Watch your ass.
No kidding. Here’s hoping I could pull this one off.
Chapter 17
My head was swimming with ideas, but I had to wait for Jack and the others to wake up before I could do anything effective. I spent the rest of the night on a stool in the kitchen, hunched over the laptop and impatiently checking the clock between scanning more threads on the message board for useful information.
There were some things I’d been avoiding. Digging too deep into the activity of one of my enemies, for one thing. Burying my head in the sand was no longer an option.
Now that I was looking, I almost wished that I could have remained ignorant about the issues involving the Others so that I wouldn’t have had another worry added on top of what was already on my plate. For instance, it might have been nice to know sooner that Max had been spotted making the rounds in other territories—except there was no hint in any of the posts as to why he was doing it.
Aside from the gripes from someone who had been in Royce’s building during Max’s attack, Others from a few different cities made mention that they’d seen him in Atlanta, New Orleans, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. Nobody seemed to know why he was there, or who he’d been there to meet with—only that he’d been in town. No attacks, no confirmed meetings with the power players in the area. It was worrisome in a distant, this-might-become-my-problem-later fashion.
What was he up to?
It was just my luck that Jack woke up in a bear of a mood. He was determined to get back on his feet and stumbled out of bed to join me in the kitchen, dressed in a loose pair of sweats and a navy wifebeater that didn’t complement the pallor of his skin. Judging by the expression on his face, now wasn’t a good time to ask him for any favors.
I waited until he’d made himself a cup of coffee and the spines had retracted a bit before I attempted conversation.
“Thought you might like to know I found the address where Chaz is hiding.”
Jack grunted.
“I can take the guys and check it out today. We can make sure he’s still there.”
Another grunt.
“If he is, we can form a plan of attack, rally the troops, and get this over with tonight.”
Jack sipped his coffee, then carefully set the mug down on the sleek granite countertop. “Where’d you get the intel?”
“A friend. An Other who has it out for Chaz.”
He sniffed. Rubbed his face. “You never cease to astound me. Trapped in here with the rest of us, and you’re still more effective than the men I’ve had combing this goddamn city all month.”
As grudging as the praise was, hearing it from Jack made me glow with pride. Until he opened his mouth again, that is.
“Too fucking bad you’re going to be one of them. You really would have made a good leader for this outfit when I’m gone.”
To keep myself from saying something caustic, I got busy pouring myself a cup of the brew he’d made, gulping a few swallows. It didn’t help in the slightest. I didn’t open my mouth until I was sure I had a handle on my temper and wouldn’t say something regrettable.
“You and I both know it’s never going to happen,” I said, staring into the depths of my mug like it might hold some answers. “You know, I haven’t really thought beyond what’s going to happen after the fight with Chaz. The full moon is only a few days away. Do you... I don’t suppose...”
Jack pulled out a stool next to me and settled against the counter in a casual lean. The relaxed look was ruined by the sudden bout of coughing that had him doubling over. I thumped his back until the fit eased. He stayed bent over, and I left my hand splayed against his ribs once he got his breath back.