Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
“What makes you think that?” Dante asked.
I told them what Penn got off the watch and flier. “Penn and I talked, and latched onto the idea that maybe, just maybe, he was fooling around as a bloodwhore.”
“That would account for his lack of interest in their love life,” Carson said. “Bloodwhores are addicted to vampiric energy, and the kink of being someone’s play toy.”
“True that. But it takes a special type of personality to become a bloodwhore,” Dante said. “I wonder how we could find out.”
“I thought we might ask Lazenti for some advice. Sophia, can you give him a call and see if he’s available to talk?” I asked.
She nodded. “Will do.” She moved away from the table while we continued to discuss matters.
“What do you think about our idea?” I asked the others.
Dante frowned. “You know, you could be right. But the money that he took does align with the initiation fee, and the reports of members vanishing and taking money with them. We need to keep the temple on our radar, regardless of whether it factors into Mark’s disappearance.”
“I’m tempted to go in undercover and see what’s there,” Orik said.
“Dude, you’d stand out like a sore thumb. I’m sorry, but you just don’t look like a peace, love, and light kind of guy. Nor do you look like you lack self-confidence.” I laughed. “Dante or I would be better suited. Or Carson.”
Carson looked up. “You talking about me?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Because remember? You hired me as your IT guy. Yes, I’m a researcher, but I seldom go out on cases, and there’s a reason.” He shrugged. “I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“You would, but you just don’t want to.” I shrugged. “No worries, though I would like to get you involved more in the investigative side of things. Anyway—” I paused as Sophia returned to the table.
“I’m setting up the Meet-Me room now. Lazenti’s fine with meeting.” She unlocked her tablet and brought up the Meet-Me room, and a moment later, she propped it up so we could see Lazenti.
“Hey,” I said. “Thanks for being available on the spur of the moment.”
“No problem,” he said. The room behind him was so non-descript that he could have been anywhere, and I understood why Saturn—the unofficial mayor of Underground Seattle—had swept him away to a safe-haven.
“So, we’d like some advice, if you have it.
Would someone, if they had fantasies of becoming a vampire, start out by setting themselves up as a bloodwhore?
And if so, do you think they’d keep the information quiet from their family?
” I asked. “I know this is making generalizations, but we could use your opinion.”
Lazenti raised his eyebrows. “What on earth are you up to now?”
“New case. Woman’s husband went missing.”
“There are a lot of reasons a woman’s husband could have vanished, including a mistress. He might be a criminal, he could have accidentally drown or been murdered, any number of things that don’t include deciding to join the vampires,” Lazenti said.
“Right, but…” I told him about Penn’s psychometry, and the nature of the disappearance.
“We’re looking into the Tetrachordian Temple, and there’s a dearth of information on it.
Given Penn’s psychometry, we’re thinking it might be something as simple as a vampire-wannabe finding someone to turn him. ”
“Well, true. Vampires have to come from somewhere, and barring ending up on the wrong end of a rogue vamp, well…you generally have to petition someone to become your sire. For most vampires, that means presenting a damned good case and creating legal contracts proving that you gave them permission. You have to be of age. The most common reason is the presence of a terminal condition,” he said.
I thought for a moment. “What would compel you to turn someone? What would they have to say to you?”
Lazenti hesitated for a moment. “Honestly? I’ve only turned one other person since I became a vampire. I seldom talk about it, but…” He drifted off, looking like he wanted to do anything except answer.
“If it’s too personal, don’t—” I started to say, but he shook his head.
“It is personal, but I believe more vampires are like me, rather than raring to increase the population. So I’ll tell you.
The woman was my ex-girlfriend. Well, she’d been my girlfriend until I was turned.
I just vanished, and she had no clue what happened.
One day, about two months later, I snuck around to check on her.
I must have tuned in that she needed help, or the gods were merciful, but when I peeked in the window of her house, I saw her lying on the floor, blood all around.
” He sounded so pained that I regretted asking him.
“What happened?” Carson asked.
“I had been in the house many times while still alive, and she’d never barred me from it, so I was able to break in.
She was on the cusp of death. She was still conscious—barely—and she seemed so relieved to see me.
She said that she thought I was dead, and she didn’t want to live without me.
It was too late to get her help, but I offered her the chance to live as a vampire.
She took it. I’m pretty sure she thought we could go on as we had. ” He gave a little shrug, wincing.
“But you couldn’t?” Dante asked.
Lazenti paused, then said, “It might have been possible, but being turned changed her more than it had me. When she was conscious and had fully transformed, the love had drained out of her. She was more feral than me, and when I asked her to marry me—we could be together forever at that point—she refused. She laughed at me, and then, she left. I’ve never seen her since that night and I never went looking for her.
She’s my one regret, twice over. I regret losing her when I was turned, and I regret turning her when I found her again. ”
“Do you think she went rogue?” I asked.
“I honestly don’t know but I think it’s probable. She had a wild streak in her and I think it took over when I turned her. I’ve never sired anyone else.” Lazenti looked haunted in a way that I’d never seen him look. The glamour faded for a moment, and I saw the regret and pain behind the allure.
“I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“I’m all right,” he said. “But I think a number of other vamps have similar stories to mine. Siring vamps they now regret. A few, however, run businesses based on minting new vamps, even though it’s illegal to make it into a business.
No money is supposed to change hands. But they’re usually wealthy and stealthy enough to avoid being found out. ”
“Sire for hire,” Sophia said.
“Money,” Lazenti said. “Money makes the world go round you know. And there’s a lot of money to be made with the wannabes.
So many are young, emo kids who only see the mysterious glamour and the dark glittering side of this life.
They don’t see the blood lust or the long, lonely decades and centuries, when everyone you ever knew has died.
Almost everybody knew back in the days when I was alive is gone now. ”
“Too many people are willing to sign their life away because they think bigger, better…” I paused, then said, “but back to our case. If Mark wanted to become a vampire, how would he go about finding a potential sire?”
“That’s easy enough. Some of the nightclubs in the Underground welcome bloodwhores, and once you sign up for that, it’s not a far stretch to find the sires-for-hire.
The fees for siring someone…that’s what we—vampires—refer to as actual blood money.
A bit of a different meaning than on the outside of the culture, you know.
” Lazenti thought for a moment. “If you wanted to investigate, you might go undercover as a bloodwhore. But bear in mind, playing that part comes with a lot of danger.”
I thought about it. I had no desire to play the part, nor to ask anybody else to. “Okay, we’ll wait on.”
“Can I ask what makes you think this guy wanted to become a vampire?”
Lazenti hadn’t heard me talk about the case. I explained about Penn and the watch.
He hesitated, then said, “That would track, but honestly? My instincts are telling me you’re looking in the wrong direction. At least this case. And what’s this temple?”
“Mark Ryle joined what sounds like a cult. We’re having trouble finding out much about it, except that it’s been around for over a hundred years, and they charge their inner participants plenty.
Carson, can you fill him in? I’m going to run to the restroom.
” I stood, stretching, then headed out of the breakroom.
As I took care of business, then washed my hands, I stared in the mirror.
Lazenti had hit me hard with the story of his girlfriend.
Love was a tough emotion, and it could so easily go south.
I loved my friends, I loved my mother, but I couldn’t ever say I’d been in love.
I’d dated—and I did enjoy sex—but I’d never let myself fall for anyone.
For a brief time when I was around sixteen, I had a crush on Dante, but he was smart enough to see it and gently lay it to rest. And I understood, after a bit of disappointment, that my crush had grown as a reaction to his kindness and generosity.
He’d been the first man to ever treat me well.
I had no father figure, and most of the men I’d encountered while on the streets had tried to take advantage of me.
Now, I loved Dante more than I loved anybody else except Penn, but it was the love of a friend, of found family.
I had his back, and I always would. And he had mine.
But any sexual attraction that might have sprung up had long faded.
We were brother and sister, at heart. And that made the bond between us even stronger.