If he was waiting for me to compliment his hair, he’d be a rotted corpse in vampire hell before that happened.
Thankfully, he didn’t react to my lack of response.
He palmed my butt-cheeks again and moved us assertively through the crowd. He clearly fancied himself as the vampire Fred Astaire. As we circled the dance floor, I searched for familiar faces.
I thought it might be easy to pick out the vampires in the sea of wannabes, but it turned out to be more complicated than I expected. The high quality of the costumes, makeup, wigs and fake fangs made identifying the real vampires more challenging. Everybody looked like an authentic bloodsucker.
The longer we danced among them, however, the more I began to notice the familiar tingle in the solar plexus when I was in the vicinity of a vampire. Not only that, I found I was able to intuitively sense the level of the vampires’ powers. Some of them barely sent out enough buzz to charge a flashlight battery, while others came across like a mini-cattle prod to the midsection.
My stomach muscles had repeatedly contracted since Bryce had kidnapped us out of my living room – fear tends to do that – so it was a good guess he belonged in the second category.
Apollo had told me that a vampire was only as powerful as the one who made him, so if Devereux was Bryce’s maker, his abilities were probably beyond the norm. Or whatever passed for normal in vampire reality.
Vampire. Reality. Two weeks ago I’d never have put those words in the same sentence.
The slow song ended and the band launched into one of those World Beat compositions that combined African and Latin rhythms. The primitive drumbeats called to the celebrants and the dance floor filled.
I had to admit, most vampires might be sick puppies, but they could dance.
Bryce flipped me around so my bottom nestled against his groin. His arms encircled my waist, pulling me tighter against his apparently ever-present erection as he propelled us through the cavorting masses. He boogied, shifting his hips from side to side, forcing me to mimic his movements.
Ever since we’d popped onto the main floor, I’d been so occupied with Bryce, spotting Brother Luther if he arrived, and trying to communicate with Devereux that I’d missed some interesting developments.
I’d always thought most men were overly fond of their penises. They were always ready, willing and able to talk about them, show them to you, touch you with them or try to sneak them into any warm, wet, available place.
Vampires had apparently elevated penis fixation to an art form. Sexual activity surrounded me on the dance floor, with penises being stroked by either the owner or a willing partner of either sex.
I’d stumbled into a vampire porn video.
Was that what being immortal meant? Bloodsucking and masturbation? Why was it only the male vampires? Did something weird happen to testosterone in the transformation? Was that the best they could do with eternal life – perpetual sexual adolescence?
Devereux was right. Vampires are a completely separate species. And apparently most of them are insane.
Lost in thought, I was startled when a woman screamed a few feet away from me. I was only able to hear it because the tone of her cry was higher-pitched than the music. I jerked my head in the direction of the scream and saw a woman pinned to the floor by a vampire whose fangs were embedded in her neck.
I guessed she wasn’t a willing donor.
None of the bystanders offered to help her. In fact, the attack only excited the strokers more.
I struggled to get out of Bryce’s grasp and he clasped me tighter, rubbing himself against me and making soft moaning sounds. It was completely stupid of me to think I could do anything to make the vampire release his victim, but I absolutely couldn’t just stand there and watch. I stomped down hard on Bryce’s foot with the heel of my shoe and he relaxed his arms enough for me to slide down through them. I don’t think he let go because I hurt him but because I surprised him. He was obviously distracted.
I leaped onto the back of the sucking vampire, who turned out to be a very large, muscular, smelly bloodsucker who flicked me off without even lifting his mouth from the woman’s neck.
Laughter echoed around me as I fell to the floor on my back. A hand reached out of a full-length hooded robe to help me up and I caught a glimpse of a familiar face inside the hood. Even the clown-like vampire makeup couldn’t disguise Lieutenant Bullock’s distinctive features. I started to acknowledge her, but she stopped me with the slightest shake of her head.
Bryce’s arm snaked around my waist again and he jerked me up off my feet, holding my back against his chest. ‘Ordinarily I’d punish you for your absurd actions, but I still need you for a little while longer. You’re lucky Lucifer wants you. Playtime’s over. Let’s go back upstairs.’
The woman on the floor had stopped screaming and was clearly dead.
The crowd actually applauded.
Vampires suck. In more ways than one.
I managed to catch Lieutenant Bullock’s eyes and shifted mine in the direction of the high balcony, showing her where we were going. She replied with an almost invisible nod, lowered the hood over her face and merged into the crowd.
Just before Bryce popped us out, I caught a glimpse of several robed figures heading towards a doorway.
The music room had been transformed into the Church of Satan, or the setting for a Black Sabbath concert, something that required lots of black draperies, upside-down crosses and pictures of ugly guys with horns. A large circle containing an inverted pentagram had been drawn in the centre of the room and the massive gemstones placed in presumably meaningful positions. Some of the mirrors were now decorated with elaborate symbols and the light from the chandeliers had been replaced by the soft, eerie glow of black candles.
When we materialised in the room, Raleigh scurried over to Bryce. He frowned as he noted that Bryce was holding me off the ground, tight to his chest, and that one of his hands had moved from my waist to my breast. Raleigh shot me a dirty look and snarled, showing his pointy fangs.
Jealousy?
I knew I should be terrified, but instead I felt numb. After so much horror my brain had simply shut down.
Bryce noticed and enjoyed Raleigh’s reaction. He laughed out loud and removed his arms from around me and I fell in a heap on the floor. Raleigh clutched Bryce’s hand like a child.
It took a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, but I was finally able to make out the shapes in the corner. Ronald was cradling Midnight in his arms and Alan was sprawled next to them, still as a corpse.
I hadn’t allowed myself to consider the possibility that Alan was actually dead, but now that it had occurred to me, I had to know. I started crawling in his direction.
I’d just reached him, picked up his wrist and detected a light pulse when the familiar limb closed around me again. Bryce held me under his arm like a rolled-up newspaper.
‘Playing Florence Nightingale, Dr Knight? Trying to save the handsome FBI agent? My, my – how many men are you servicing these days? But you mustn’t rattle the blood-sacks. I need at least one of them for the ritual. Maybe two.’
‘What are you talking about? What do you need for the ritual?’
‘Blood.’
‘Do you mean you need to drink blood?’
‘You really are a tedious human. Of course I need to drink blood. But this blood’s for the ritual. It’s the final step – we’re going to smear it all over the circle. Quite a waste of food, if you ask me, but the wizard geniuses say it’s necessary. It will be worth it to have Devereux under my power. Finally, after all those centuries, he’ll be forced to do my bidding, in every possible way.’