Bad Vampire Lauren Dawes (black books to read txt) 📖

inside, and after taking one final deep breath, I followed him in. I tried not to gawk at the gold-veined marble under my boots or the expensive art hanging on the walls. There were also sculptures in their own niches along the walls, each with a little pot light above it. I was expecting a vampire to live in a crypt or something, not this light-filled palace and homage to art and culture.

The front door echoed as Charlie closed it behind us, and I peeked over my shoulder. He was watching me closely.

“He’s a low-ranking fae,” Sawyer murmured as we walked.

“And let me guess, Charlie is not his real name.”

“Not even close.”

“He works for Alistair?”

“I guess you could call it that. He’s been with Alistair for as long as I remember.”

“Companions then?”

He shrugged. “Sure. Let’s run with that.”

Sawyer navigated the house like he’d been there a million times before, and we soon arrived at a set of closed mahogany doors. He rapped his knuckles on one, then opened the door and stepped into the room.

“Sawyer.” Alistair, I assumed, put down the cue he’d been lining up a shot with. “How are you?”

The two men shook hands, then Alistair turned his attention to me. “And who is this?”

“My new partner,” Sawyer replied. I wondered how those words had tasted on his tongue.

“Ah. And to what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you?”

Sawyer walked deeper into the room, running his fingertips along the red felt of the billiards table as he passed. “We have a case that I’m not sure about.”

He wasn’t sure about it? Then what hope did we all have? I stayed where I was, unwilling to get any closer to the vampire who was keeping one eye on me as well as giving his full attention to Sawyer. Honestly, I was impressed with the way he split his attention. He’d be a great work from home mom…you know, if work from home moms had fangs, drank blood, and were terrifying.

“What’s it about?”

My partner blew out a breath and leaned against the side of the billiard table right beside Alistair, folding his arms over his chest. “Someone is turning children into vampires.”

I studied the old fanger’s face, but there was no shift in expression, not even a hint that he was shocked by Sawyer’s declaration.

“I see,” he replied dubiously. “Are you’re here because you think I made them?”

Sawyer shook his head. “No. I know you wouldn’t be making children, but I wanted to know if you’d heard anything among your kiss?”

Alistair laughed. “I see our reputation as gossips precedes us.” Wandering over to a bar in the corner, he opened up a small wine fridge and pulled out what I could’ve sworn was a blood bag from the hospital. He popped it into a microwave on the sideboard and hit a few buttons. The whir of the appliance was eerie, and I didn’t think I could look at a microwave, let alone use one, again.

Blood in a bag. Gack.

The vampire became so still as he watched the glass plate rotate his meal that I wasn’t sure he was breathing… Wait, did vamps even need to breathe anymore?

Both men seemed to wait, then, as if the ding from the microwave was the Pavlovian signal, Alistair came back to life and Sawyer let out a breath.

The vampire pulled open the microwave door, and my knees nearly buckled at the scent of warmed blood. “I have heard that there’s a foreign vampire in town.”

“And the mistress allowed this?”

With his baggy in hand, the vampire turned around and returned to the billiards table. Like it was a glass of expensive scotch. Not blood. In. A. Bag. I braced myself for the evisceration of that poor bag, but was stunned when Alistair pulled out a pair of small gold-plated cuticle scissors, snipped off one corner, and took a civilized sip.

“The mistress will allow most things if she can make a quick buck. She also allowed it to happen because this particular vampire was an acquaintance of hers from Italy back in the Dark Ages.”

“Does this vampire have a name?” Sawyer pressed.

“It was never given, and I never press for such information. If it were important, she would’ve told us.”

“Do you know where the guy is staying?”

Alistair shook his head, sending his still blond curls into rapture around his youthful face. “I’m not privy to that information, but I do know he wouldn’t be staying with my mistress. Acquaintances for vampires,” he said, staring at me, “are much like acquaintances for humans. The term means they aren’t quite friendly, but they’re known to each other.”

Sawyer straightened and held out his hand to the vampire. “Thank you. I appreciate you talking to us.”

“My pleasure,” he replied smoothly, upending the bag and taking another delicate sip.

I tried not to make a face.

Sawyer led me from the room with his hand on the small of my back. I didn’t want to admit how nice that actually felt, so I shrugged him off as soon as the billiards room door was shut behind us.

“That went well,” I said cheerfully. “You know, except for the blood.” I shivered. Sawyer’s mouth was tight, but he didn’t say anything more until we stepped from the house and got back into my truck.

“He knows something,” Sawyer said, mostly to himself. “He didn’t answer my question.”

“He also said he didn’t know,” I pointed out helpfully.

“People can’t lie to me.” He tapped his nose. “I can smell it.”

“First, ew. Second, seriously?”

He nodded. “Vampires, like the fae, are very good at telling half-truths or skirting around the truth, but Alistair was flat-out lying to us in there.”

“What are you going to do?”

“There’s nothing I can do. He knows we have an interest now. He’ll tell his mistress, and I have no doubt we’ll be going to visit her soon.”

“I think I might be sick that day.”

He raised one perfectly groomed dark brow at me. “Scared, Pussy cat?”

“Don’t call me that.” My words were sharp,