The Devil's Angel (Devil Series Book 2) (13 page)

Lucien shook his head. “That might be true for some, but not for everyone.”

She moved over to him and sat down. “There was a man who lived by the ocean. Every morning he’d walk up and down the sandy beach looking for starfish that had been washed ashore. There were hundreds of them. One by one, he’d pick up a starfish and toss them back into the sea. A neighbor who had watched his morning ritual for months finally asked him, ‘Why do you bother throwing them back into the sea? There are thousands of miles of beach covered with starfish. You can’t possibly make a difference!’ The man bent over and tossed another starfish into the sea as he said to his neighbor, “I made a difference to that one.

“Everyone makes a difference to someone, just like something as seemingly insignificant as dirt makes a difference to all of us. This positive influence in others’ lives is what makes us truly happy.”

“So do you think dirt is happy?” he said, needing to make light of the conversation.

She smiled. “If I was dirt, I’d be happy for I fulfilled the measure of my creation. Just think of all the life I could give to the world.”

He nudged her. “I’m glad you’re not dirt because then this conversation would be really awkward.”

***

The next day, Eve was in a noticeably much better mood. He dropped her off at work and returned to the hotel. As he was getting into the elevator, Ronald forced his hand into the closing doors.

“You have a letter, Sir,” he said, his voice full of spite and envy. His thin lips puckered together as if he’d just swallowed sour milk.

“Thank you.” Lucien accepted the letter and moved it behind his back.

Ronald stood between the doors, not letting them close.

“Do you need something?” Lucien asked.

“I’m an honest man, Lucien.”

Lucien rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood for a conversation with an unhappy man who took joy in seeing others fail.

“A successful hotel should have an owner who’s seen. There are guests who’d like to meet you,” Ronald said.

“Then tell them you’re the owner.”

“Excuse me?”

“Wow them, dazzle them, say whatever you want.”

“You want me to pretend to be you?” he asked.

“Yes.”

Ronald slowly backed away from the elevator doors, smiling big. It didn’t matter that Ronald would have to lie to people; all he cared about was impressing others. And Ronald would gladly give up a piece of his own integrity to accomplish this.

Once inside his room, Lucien opened the letter and glanced down at a name and an address. It had been a while since he’d received one, longer than usual. He was surprised he hadn’t noticed the time, especially since he hadn’t fed. But now with the prospect on his mind, he was suddenly starving.

He picked up his cell phone and called Charlie.

“Hello?”

“This is Lucien.”

Silence.

“I can’t be with Eve tonight. Can you get someone who will actually stay this time?”

“I will do it personally.”

Lucien heard the excitement in his voice, but he didn’t know what else to do.

Charlie asked, “Why can’t you do it?”

“I have to work.”

“Valium has a job?”

Lucien hung up the phone.

When the afternoon came, he drove to the address, stopping in front of a gated community of upscale condos. He parked his Hummer a few blocks away and waited for nightfall.

There was no sunset that evening as dark clouds covered the sky, coloring the night with blacks and deep grays. With the darkness came the rain. It was a different kind of rain, falling harder and faster. October rain. He never paid attention to calendars for time didn’t matter to him. If it wasn’t for the weather, he would never know what month it was.

After hopping the fence, he leapt to the three-story roof and walked along the slippery shingles. When he was above the condo addressed on the sheet of paper, he jumped down upon the balcony. Dark curtains covered the sliding doors, but fortunately they weren’t pulled together all the way. He peeked in the tiny crevice to see a living room with arched ceilings.

The room was all white except for two black sofas that faced each other. In between them was a glass table placed on top of a black bear rug. Resting on the glass were several guns and an assortment of drug paraphernalia. But there was something else—scattered photographs, many of which had fallen to the floor. They were of children and young teens.
Illegal photos.

Lucien gripped the metal frame of the window nearly snapping it. This wasn’t just about drugs. Someone was hurting children, and now he was going to hurt them.

Three people sat on the couches. A bald headed man with a head like a cantaloupe plugged one nostril and snorted at white powder lined on the table. Next to him was a black man who was speaking so fast that most of his words were unintelligible. On the other sofa, a woman with long stringy blond hair laughed hard and loud at something invisible in the corner.

A sudden knock at the door made the woman jump and drop a lighter in her hand. She coughed a few times then settled into an eerie calm. The other two followed suit, staring right through each other.

A man taller than Lucien appeared from out of a hallway. His muscular body looked like it had been pumped full of steroids, and his fists were almost the size of his square face. He had bushy eyebrows that shadowed his deep-set eyes.

The man looked at the three sitting uselessly on the couch with disgust. Lucien noticed something missing from his eyes. He looked—the man lifted his top thin lip in a sneer, revealing a growing set of fangs.

This wasn’t going to be a regular job.

The vampire’s eyes darted to the window where Lucien was hiding. He quickly moved away and leaned against the balcony rail, breathing hard. Had vampires become so powerful that they believed they could interfere in the human world? If that were true, than it would only be a matter of time before humans found out the truth about vampire’s existence.

When he heard another knock, Lucien returned to the slightly parted curtains. The vampire was in the process of opening the front door. A thin man with black hair and a long braided goatee moved into the spacious living room but not very far. He kept shifting his weight back and forth like a boat on the water. His eyes darted around the room, unable to keep still for longer than a second.

“You’re late, Jay,” the vampire said.

Jay slid a beanie off his head. “Traffic. Who are they?” He nodded his head toward the zombies in the living room.

“No one you need to worry about,” the vampire replied. He moved out of view behind a wall that Lucien guessed led to a kitchen. He returned carrying a box.

“Fill it up,” he told Jay.

Jay looked down at the packages against the wall.

“This still doesn’t make sense,
Bill
.” He emphasized the name as if it were a fake. “It’s not safe to be carrying this amount of drugs through the streets of Seattle.”

“I don’t care. I don’t want more people than necessary coming here.”

Jay looked back to the three sitting on the couch; they looked calm and relaxed. Every so often, the woman’s leg would twitch sporadically.

“What about them?” he asked.

“They’ll be dead by morning. Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

Jay hesitated briefly before he bent over and placed the white packages into the box.

“When you’re done delivering those to your men, bring the money back to me for your cut,” Bill said. “And remember, I’ll know if you’ve cheated me.”

Jay nodded grimly and picked up the box. He looked like he wanted to say something else but was too afraid.

“What?” the vampire asked.

From somewhere inside, Jay must’ve found a sliver of courage. “When am I going to get my place back?”

“When I’m done with it.”

Jay lowered his head. “I’ll be back before morning.”

He left the room.

Lucien jumped back onto the roof. The falling rain doused him, chilling his skin. A stiff breeze blew in from the north, carrying with it the smell of the bay. He would follow Jay first and then figure out what to do about the vampire, Bill.

Jay jogged down the steps below him. He smelled like cigarette smoke and green olives. Most likely, he was heading to his car where he would have to drive out the gates.
The gates
.

Lucien jumped off the roof and raced toward the entrance, easily hopping over the tall iron fence. He traveled about a quarter of a mile before he stopped. The area was deserted; tall, leafy trees edged the narrow winding street.

He only had to wait a few minutes before a car, which reeked of cigarettes and green olives, approached. Lucien concealed himself behind a tree and, at the last moment, jumped in front of the speeding vehicle. Jay jerked the steering wheel to the right. The car spun around until its back-end slammed into a streetlight on the opposite side of the road.

Lucien strolled over and peered into the driver’s side window. A dazed Jay was trying to find the door handle. Lucien opened the door for him.

“Who the hell are you?” Jay asked.

Lucien decided to show him—actions always spoke louder than words. He grabbed him roughly around the arms and jerked Jay to a standing position, then he pierced Jay’s skinny neck with sharp fangs.

The life-giving blood flowed into him, quenching the hunger he had stifled for the last several weeks. He pulled the man closer, trying to force out every last drop. His hunger was insatiable, and when there was no blood left, he tossed Jay’s body back into the car, still hungry.

The familiar sharp pain stabbed at Lucien’s stomach, forcing him to double over. His hands, knuckles white, gripped the metal roof of the car, which buckled under the pressure. After a few deep breaths, he slowly recovered. Once again, he didn’t question the reason behind the pains and focused only on the tasks ahead.

Lucien jumped into Jay’s car and re-parked it normally against the street as to not draw attention to it. He would return for it later, but right now he had more important things to do.

Back on the balcony of the condo, the same two men lay passed out on the sofa, but the woman was missing. He listened carefully. Something shuffled through a back bedroom out of Lucien’s view. It could’ve been a fan blowing or a person without a heartbeat. Lucien wouldn’t be sure until he snuck into the condo, but the moment he did, another vampire would become aware of Lucien immediately.

It was a chance he was willing to take.

He gripped the sliding door handle and pulled slowly, but a latch prevented it from opening. He jerked it hard as quietly as possible, but it still made an audible pop as it opened. The two sleeping men didn’t move. And by their slow breathing and heartbeats, Lucien guessed they’d been drugged.

The movement in the back stopped. He crept down the hallway. Two doors were closed at the end, one on his right and the other on his left.

Lucien had learned over time that you always choose the door on the right. Most humans were right handed so, if given the choice, they’d naturally choose to hide in a room on their right. But “Bill” was not human and would naturally avoid anything human-like.

Lucien opened the door on the left. The room was dark with several boxes piled high around the room. Just inside, he found the blond woman standing unnaturally straight against the wall. He didn’t have to listen for a heartbeat to know she was dead. Her once pink skin was now entirely white, and all blood had been drained from the two pen-size holes in her neck. Most of her shirt had been torn off, and the tops of her toes barely touched the floor. And lastly, two stakes, just barely sticking out from her flesh, had pierced both shoulders, pinning her to the wall.

A shadow shifted in the corner. “I heard there was another vampire in Seattle.”

Lucien moved to the side of the woman, positioning himself directly in front of Bill.

“Seattle’s my city. What are you doing here?” Lucien asked.

“I’m here on a job. I’ll only be here a couple of weeks, and then I’m out.”

“What kind of job?”

Bill moved toward the door. “One that pays well.”

“You can sell drugs in any city, why come here?” Lucien stepped toward the door, blocking any potential escape.

“I’m not here for the drugs, although it’s a great side job.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because I was told to be.”

“By who?”

“By one more powerful than either of us combined.”

“Stop being cryptic. What are you doing here and who sent you?”

The vampire slammed into Lucien before he could react. Bill was much stronger than he anticipated. The force of the blow pushed him into the door across the hall, breaking its hinges. Bill moved to attack again, but despite his size, Lucien was faster.

Lucien jumped up to the ceiling. With a hand and foot on each side of the hallway, he perched waiting for the moment when Bill would look up. He didn’t have to wait long. With hands still pressed against the walls, he swung his legs down and connected them with Bill’s face. Bill slammed into the living room wall over thirty feet away.

Lucien dropped to the floor and waited for Bill to attack or run. Bill’s fangs extended, and he stood, ready to fight, but then suddenly stopped. His expression became as calm as a priest’s in the middle of a Sunday sermon. He turned his head toward the front door and then looked back at Lucien.

“I have more important things to do,” he said.

Before Lucien could say anything, Bill disappeared out the front door.

Lucien didn’t go after him. If a vampire didn’t want to be found, he wouldn’t be. Instead, Lucien flipped on the light in the room with the erect dead woman. The boxes contained nothing but junk: old school papers, bills, sports memorabilia. A small closet in the corner was full of clothes that had been thrown to the floor.

He crossed the hallway to the other room. He stepped over the broken door and turned on the light. One queen-sized bed was pushed up against the wall. Next to it was a black end table with a red lamp. The floor was littered with photos, which were organized into three piles. He bent down to look at the pile closest to the bed. They were of legs and feet only. He pushed his way through the pictures, but couldn’t find a face or a body, only legs. They were of women’s legs, thin, in sheer stockings and heels.