Chapter 12.

  Two Fridays after stumbling ass backwards into a potential murder syndicate, here Scott was, getting ready, worried that he would find another piece of evidence, that he would discover just enough to prove that this wasn’t your average everyday run-of-the-mill group of nerds. That somewhere in this party, there was a killer, killers maybe, Eleanor said that three blood samples were found at the scene. There could be two psychos here. Two psychos drinking blood and discussing murder amongst mere pretenders.

  Then Scott thought of Amelia. If things went down the way he feared, the silver lining was that maybe he could convince her to find another hobby. He had tried meeting up with her somewhere else since the last party but she was always busy. He didn’t visit the bar she worked at either, didn’t want to look that desperate. Though he had this sneaking suspicion that instead of a bartender she might have been a stripper, it wouldn’t be the first time that happened to him.

  The Vampire Party seemed to be the best way to her heart. A night of drinking and party games was fun enough, sans the idea of a murderer hanging out with you, but that was a long shot. It had to be. Coincidence, that’s all it was. The Arrows, just a coincidence. The so-called leader being a little too familiar with the recent crime scene? Could be chalked to being a true crime fan with, as Amelia called it, a grim sense of humor. Like Hank said, three keys, that’s what they needed. Happenstance, coincidence, enemy action.

  If nothing else came from this, it would be a good story, and Scott loved a good story, he thought of trying to take some notes, maybe write a human-interest piece he could sell to Vice or The Apex, an interesting published work for his resume, and maybe a four-digit paycheck if he was lucky. He had a feeling that even if one of them wasn’t a killer, there was some crazy stuff that went down at these parties. Amelia hinted at the mystery of second floor, sex, drugs, and even more macabre shit that the high ranked members were into.

  A reporter, especially a trained investigative journalist like Scott proclaimed himself to be, knew certain stories couldn’t be solved just by asking a passerby to affairs who, what, when, and why. This was an undercover mission now, a mission to get close and find the answers, if there were any here.

  To get ready for the next party, Scott even went on a little shopping drip. A new black jacket, a tacky as hell Ed Hardy knock off T-shirt, he kept Hank’s black tie, and just to blend in he bought a spiked bracelet from Hot Topic. He joked with Hank if Charlotte PD could foot the bill, what with this almost police business. That was met on an eye roll and as he guessed it would, his new duds ending up on Scott’s Credit card like so many expenses he encountered since leaving the Sentinel. Fair enough, Hank said he would be a laughingstock if he told the force he suspected a bunch of dorks having a cocktail party could be connected to one of grisliest Charlotte crime sprees since the 1800 Davidson Disappearances, that series of brutal killings was now enshrined in a ghost walk for the few tourists passing though Charlotte overnight looking for something fun to do in the Queen city.

  Scott was running some pomade to slick his hair back and practicing lines for Amelia in the mirror.

  “The darkness becomes you, you beautiful creature,” Scott said, wanting to laugh at himself as he feigned taking macabre joy in being around creatures of the night.

  “The fuck are you doing?” Hank asked.

  Scott shrugged, “Hey, you want a line into the goings on of the Vampires, I got to play the part. I’m the one going out and risking my neck, maybe literally,” Scott said.

  “This Amelia girl, you’re sure she doesn’t know more than she’s letting on? From what you’ve told me she’s pretty wrapped up in this game,” Hank crossed his arms, leaning against the bathroom entrance, “And this game sounds really fucking suspect,” he said, “What is this game? Who are these people exactly, and what are they up too?” he asked.

  “They call themselves a Clan, and there are two levels of players. There are the inducted members, high up people, Jacobin, some blond named Suvilia, a few others who’ve been going for a few months,”

  “And Amelia?” Hank asked.

  “She is a pretty high-ranking member, at least from what I’ve gathered. It’s a bunch of dorks, the hot girls probably rise the ranks pretty fast,” Scott said.

  “Now below the inducted members, are the saps like me, we’re called Damane, we’re the slaves of our Vampire sponsors, mine being Amelia, and we have to prove our worth to the clan to be inducted, to be turned as she calls it,” Scott said, grabbing some floss and tying it off on his finger and thumb to get the last bit of dinner out of his otherwise pearly white teeth.

  “Remember, you’re not just going there to get laid, you’re going to see if there’s something to this theory you’ve proposed, the potential connection to the murders,” Hank said.

  “Relax, I got this,” Scott said as he grabbed the Listerene and took a swing, swishing it around for a bit before spitting it out. “I’ve actually been doing some reading, the game has a rulebook, made by some company out of Baton Rouge, the original game was invented in the nineties by some people who used to work for the company that makes Dungeons and Dragons. It’s a roleplaying game, only instead of graphing paper and dice, it’s cocktails and verbal sparring,” Scott said, “Everyone has a role to play, and everyone agrees that who you are outside of the Clan is just your cover, the persona you carry in the modern world to keep up appearances. Most of the women are bartenders, at least they say they are. They work at night to stay out of the harshness of the sun. Because as you know, if a Vampire is exposed to sunlight they burst into flames and die,” Scott said.

  “And what does Amelia do?” Hank asked.

  Scott sighed, “She’s a bartender, says she gets worn out, always sleeping during the day, can only ever hang out at night,” Scott said.

  “So you’ve never seen her in Daylight?” Hank asked, curious.

  “Fuck you,” Scott said.

  “I’m just taking in the information. Have you seen her with sun shining on her bare skin at high noon?” Hank asked.

  “No, I haven’t,” Scott said, “That doesn’t mean she’s a Vampire if that’s the asinine question you’re asking. We live in the Gig-Economy, some people just favor being Nocturnal,” he said.

  “I Just want you to tell me, with confidence, that you don’t think this girl is a Vampire,” Hank grinned, fucking with his little brother.

  “Vampire, yeah, she’s a Vampire,” Scott laughed, playing along. “This party goes south I might end up with some fangs in my neck,” he said, taking one last once over in the mirror making sure his outfit was just gothic enough to earn the trust of a bunch of weirdos and a few hot girls.

  “Make sure she’s not casting some kind of spell on you,” Hank said, making his way to the kitchen to pour himself some whiskey as Scott made his way out of the apartment.

  “Funny you say that,” Scott said, leaning against the open door, “The game has a magic system, Amelia told me they do rituals sometimes, but that’s part of the game only the high-ranking members get to take part in. Haven’t had the pleasure of being invited to the second floor yet, apparently that’s where the real fucked up shit happens,” Scott said.

  “And what does it take one to get invited to this second floor party?” Hank asked.

  “I got to prove I’m truly devoted to the Clan, that’s what Amelia says,” Scott shook his head, “If I find something at these parties, and still get the chance to go, take this to the chief, I should get hazard pay for this shit,” Scott said.

  “So, what’s the plan?” Hank asked, taking a drink to abate the fact that this whole idea was crazy.

  “My target is Trevor, Jacobin Hearsay as he’s known in this fucked up little circle I’ve found myself in. He’s the millionaire. He’s made himself out to be defacto leader of the clan by hosting the party in houses he rents. The first time I met him, he was talking about the first scene you found. He spoke as if he knew details of the crime scene very intimately. If he’s not the one behind this, he might know something about who is. He just gives me a feeling, you’re a detective, you ever get that feeling when questioning someone, that feeling that says you mother fucker I know you know something?” Scott asked.

  “Yeah,” Hank nodded, taking another drink, “I’ve had that feeling before,” he said.

  “He’s got that aura all over him,” Scott said.

  “You said that there were other people talking about the scene at the party, what makes Jacobin different?” he asked.

  “The group was all abuzz about the scene. Even if they have nothing to do with it, it’s still pretty fucked up they’re using a real murder as an excuse to have fun at a party. Amelia said that at least a dozen members were bragging about being the guilty party. In here words, she said it was just dark fun, these people want an escape, Amelia included. That’s all it is, all I hope it is at least, just some outcasts having a bit of Dark fun,” Scott shook his head.

  Hank came to his brother, “You’re a great reporter, you’re good at your job, and you’re about to go do your job,” Hank patted Scott’s jacket sleeve, his cufflink, “Truth, remember what Dad told you,” he said.

  “If I’m going to find this truth, I’m going to need your strength,” Scott said, reminding Hank of his own pair of cufflinks.

  “Truth and Strength,” Hank laughed, and the solemn look of a man who wondered if he could ever live up to his father’s expectations came across his face, “Dad had some high hopes for us,” Hank said, “Let’s prove him right, deal?” Hank asked, holding his hand out.

  Scott took it, and the brothers shared a good shake, “I get to the truth of this, and your strength covers my ass if it might get me killed,”

  “Deal,” Hank said, “Don’t let her near your neck, you might hope for a hickey and end up with a puncture in your jugular, okay?” Hank asked, raising his eyebrows.

  “I’ll do my best,” Scott said.

  The party was already going when Scott showed up. Various Vampires enjoying their wine and cocktails on the front lawn as Scott found a parking space across the street in the line of cars that had shown up. Scott scanned the party as he made his way to the house. The attendees were dressed in various levels of goth wear, holding glasses of merlot whilst chatting about the politics and intrigue of working their way up the ranks of the Vampire clan. Waiting by the front door chatting with Amelia was the slightly chubby, but well-proportioned and over all cute girl Scott remembered her from the first party, Lucy was her name.

  Damn, group of murderer’s or not, this party had Amelia always bringing her A-Game. Strutting into the party with a long black dress with a slit that went to her hip. A black rose on a headband in her crimson red hair. Swirling her wine in one hand and her tongue sensually sliding over some fake Vampire teeth she was sporting. She saw Scott out of the corner of her eye and lit up as bright as the sun these characters said to fear.

  She sauntered over to him as he adjusted his jacket, “Good evening, my mistress,” he said, giving her a bow and playing along.

  She put her free hand on his shoulder, commanding him to rise, “And a good evening to you,” she said as she planted a quick and soft kiss on each of his cheeks, “My faithful Damane,” her voice breathy and erotic, sending a shiver up Scott’s spine reminiscent of both fear and lust as she whispered in his ear.

  Scott took her hand and smiled, “So what Debauchery will our Depraved Covenant be getting up tonight, my mistress?” He was, mostly, feigning his subservience to her, he took her hand to his mouth and put a submissive kiss on the bank of her hand to show the power over him he had ceded to her. He read about that move in the rule book the other day.

  “Well,” Amelia put her hand on Scott’s chin and allowed him to rise back up to eye level, “Riske and Auron are having a spirited debate, concerning the will of the Dark One,” she smiled, “And how our Clan can best evoke his will in the mortal world,” She said, sounding so excited.

  The Dark One, the one spoken of in the message at the first crime scene. Scott did everything he could to fight his cringe at yet another implication that the Depraved Covenant had a connection to the murders. God damn, what kind of craziness had Scott’s dick wrapped him up in this time? Why couldn’t he just take her to the Olive Garden like a normal girl? He actually suggested the Olive Garden for a date, but Amelia abetted and said she hated Italian food. What kind of red-blooded American girl hates Italian food? She was a mystery all right, and a mystery with legs like that was one Scott found himself desperate to solve, even if it meant being a Damane, being a slave. She had a power over him all right, damn her eyes were so pretty. Scott had to shake himself, remember the mission. Go to the party, see if there’s another connection. But Amelia was so pretty, he figured the best way to blend in with the Clan was to just have fun, have fun with the bombshell redhead that saw reason to take him under her wing.

  “The Dark One, you say? Interesting,” Scott said, forcing a smile, “I’ve actually been reading the ancient texts, reading of the Dark One, the first child of Cain the first blasphemer, conceived in demented and depraved passion with the Queen of Demons Lilith, one pure to Darkness and the rightful ruler of the flawed and sinful mortal world,” Scott smiled. The Ancient texts, the in-game name for the rule book written in 1999 by a couple of college English majors from Louisiana.

  “Oh,” Amelia grinned, “You’ve been studying the Ancient texts,” she put a hand to his chest and sensually ran it up to his neck, she lightly wrapped her fingers around his throat, not enough to choke, but just enough to get kinky as she got a dreamy thousand-yard stare in her eyes as she matched them with Scott’s. “Such a good Damane you are proving to be, having knowledge of the Ancient texts will help your case when I recommend you to be turned and join our ranks proper,” she grinned, releasing Scott’s neck and putting an arm around his waist to lead him to the house’s backyard.

  “The crowd is gathering. Come Damane, let us get a good spot” she said as she led Scott to the backyard. Four effigies, wooden statues tied to steaks, burning in the night as two men stood at opposite sides, each between two of them.

  “That’s Riskel,” Amelia said, pointing out a blonde haired man with slicked back hair and a red cloak with a pocket watch hanging from his breast pocket and black cowboy boots.

  “Riskel is one of the Clan’s original founders, said to have been turned as early as the eighteen-hundreds,” She said.

  “Explains the cowboy boots,” Scoot said.

  “And that’s Auron,” Amelia said, pointing to the taller, but lankier man with jet black hair parted with bangs that covered one of his sunk in eyes coated with black eyeliner.

  “Auron is a recent convert, not an original member, but he’s very devoted to the darkness,” Amelia smiled, “He’s proven himself a promising addition, knows how the game is played so I hear,” Amelia wrapped an arm around Scott’s, holding him close.

  “Really? That guy shows promise?” Scott asked, trying to stop himself from laughing at these ridiculous men doing nothing more than playing pretend in the desperate hope of impressing one of the few hot girls at the party, with how these guys looked, they may even be happy with one of the more chubby ones. You got to get yours, Scott assumed that’s what these two were trying to get. A win is a win, after all. This was most likely the one day of the week that these guys combed their hair, used some product, and dressed to the nines. If it was one day of the week that they could entertain the thought of getting laid, it was probably this night.

  “So, tonight’s debate actually concerns Damane like you, so you better listen,” Amelia said as she curled further on Scott’s arm. “Riskel argues that the Dark One wants us to turn as many worthy mortals as we can find, whereas Auron believes that only the worthiest should be given the gift of eternal life, arguing that humans are our food and their numbers will mean nothing in the coming war when the Dark One makes himself known,” she said.

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  “Makes himself known? What’s that going to be, is he going to make himself known next Tuesday or something?”

  Amelia rolled her eyes at her Damane’s ignorance, “The day and the hour of his coming is known by no man, by no creature. If you’ve been reading the Ancient texts you should know that,” she said.

  The Tavares brothers were raised Baptist. That last line gave Scott a quick flashback to one Sunday when United Hill Baptist church’s usual preacher had the flu and his role preaching to the congregation was subbed in by a deacon devoted to the more fire and brimstone parts of the holy bible, a real old-time religion man. Despite it being the most known book of scripture, few holy men gave seemed to give sermons about Revelation, the holy book's last chapter. When the end comes, the revelation of Jesus Christ, that hour and day, also was known by no man or creature. The coming of Christ, and the coming of the Anti-Christ.

  Trevor Ellis, or rather Jacobin Hearsay as he was known here, strolled to the middle of the effigies and raised his hands. “There is a debate amongst our people,” he said, “The covenant faces a question, some of you feel one way, and some of you another,” he said, “Two of our accepted, have demanded a sparring of verbal satisfaction,” he grinned, loving the admiration and attention he was given as leader of this merry band of would-be Vampires. “Know that the Dark One will reveal the true path we should take in time, show us the way for his true intentions and the destiny of our people, know that this argument is in good faith, both sides want to serve our Dark Lord, as we are all purely devoted to serving his will,” Jacobin was eating up the attention from the crowd, he had a grapple hold on them and looked a bit reluctant to let that kind of attention go. He turned to the blonde in the red cloak and black cowboy boots, “Brother Riskle, you have won the toss of the coin, yours is the choice to speak first or defer to your ideological opponent, make your choice,” he said, bowing towards Riskle.

  Riskel grinned, raised his arms trying to match the energy that Jacobin had riled out of the crowd, “Well, being that my adversary is the incorrect party, I will choose to defer,” he smiled and turned to the crowd, “I’ll let him make a mockery of himself and his opinions before I roar the true will of our Dark Master,” he said, rousing an applause of respect from the crowd.

  Auron laughed, “Yes, I’m so wrong, I’m so wrong having the idea that our source of sustenance and cattle are merely that, that the humans are cattle to us, of course occasionally there can be a mortal produced who is worth of our glorious reward of eternal life, I know of this glory myself. It’s said to be only one in a million that truly deserves to embrace the rank of Vampire,” he yelled, holding his hands up, “It is our duty to teach the human’s their place in this world, they must learn that only true devotion to the prince of darkness is the way, before they can even be considered to be turned to the undoubtedly winning side of the great conflict to come, when the Dark One will show himself to this mortal world, and his our approaches closer and closer, every day, second by second, he comes soon and the humans will see that the impotent gods and creators they passively put belief in will be nothing compared to our lord’s might,” Auron raised his hands, getting a cheer from a good bit of the crowd.

  “I know what it means to be worthy, all of us accepted know what it means to worthy. I was chosen by the clan for my merit, tell me? Who knows the glory of Vampire over one who lets himself be turned in the generation that will that see the Dark One’s coming? Our people, if we are to survive, we must feed, every pathetic mortal we recklessly add to our ranks makes it harder for us to find those we can feed on. We must be able to feed if we are to continue the work of the Dark Lord, the one who’s name should not be said, he who walks in the moon's shadow,” Scott saw in Auron a man very dedicated to his political opinion, “The Golden Bull, Moloch himself, will lead us to a great feast of humanity, it is our job to do his will now,” he said.

  That got a gasp from the audience, “That seemed serious,” Scott said, noticing the audience's reaction.

  “That was a big deal,” Amelia said, gripping Scott’s arm and leaning to him “The Ancient texts forbid the use of the Dark One’s names,” she said.

  “Names? I haven’t gotten that deep yet. What I’ve read just calls him the Dark One, how many names does he have,” Scott asked.

  “He has many names, he’s played a role in all the world's religions, be it Kali, Mati, Moloch, Baal, Beelzebub, and I dare not say it but also Lucifer. A name of the Dark One should only be invoked in most serious matters. Aruon must really want to make a point,” she said.

  “Lucifer?” Scott asked, “But I thought that the Dark One is the first child of Cain and Lilith, Lucifer already existed, how could the Dark One be Lucifer?” he asked, remembering Sunday school sermons about that old Serpent, the great deceiver.

  “The Dark One is Lucifer’s avatar, so much as the son of the creator is his,” Amelia said.

  “Guess I need to study more,” Scott said as he turned back to the debate.

  “You’ll learn, in time,” Amelia smiled as Auron continued to rile up the crowd.

  “He’s quite passionate,” Scott said, his arm around Amelia’s waist as she leaned against him, enjoying the show.

  “This is an important debate, it’s been brewing for weeks between these two, Riskel’s argument will help convince the council that more Damane like you deserve to be promoted to the rank of accepted,” she smiled, eager to see what the counterpoint of Auron’s argument would be.

  “What’s this war he keeps mentioning?” Scott asked.

  “Why it’s the last war of course, the coming battle between us of the darkness and those of the so-called way of light, the great day when we reveal ourselves to the mortal world, when the Dark One makes his presence in this world known and acts as general to an army of creatures that will lay a grindstone to the world of man, putting them in their rightful place as our servants,” she grinned, almost seeming giddy at the thought of war and bloodshed on a literally biblical level.

  Jacobin stood between the men as Auron made his closing statements, “It seems we will have a spirited debate tonight, I know we all wish to spread the glory of the Dark One in this world, let’s not let our own disagreements deter us from what are no doubt our common goals, for we all will wage war for the Dark One, will we not?” He raised his arms, addressing his people.

  “Slaughter the sheep!” A drunk voice called out from the back of the crowd. Jacobin laughed, “Now, to brother Auron’s point, we will see the counterpoint, brother Riskel,” he turned to the blond man in black cowboy boots, “I believe you have a rebuttal to Auron’s argument. Please, by all means, brother Riskel, enlighten us,” he said, stepping back.

  Riskel took cocky step forward to the center of the effigies as Auron took his place back at the other side of the makeshift stage, “Oh, you a youngling Vampire who feels so bold,” Riskel turned to the crowd, “To go as far as invoking a name of our lord, in the old laws you could be strung up on a crucifix for that, in my day we would let your body burn against the allegedly holy wood till the sun rose and your flesh burst into flames in the radiance of our most ancient enemy, a well-deserved punishment for your insolence, youngling,” there was a bite at the end of Riskel’s voice. The bite fitting for an elder dressing down a lesser.

  Riskel turned to the crowd, “My brothers and sisters, and any hopeful Damane that may have the privilege of audience with us today, I implore you with the fact that our numbers must grow. My younger, compatriot is right, the great war is coming. As with any war we will need soldiers, no matter how powerful the might of the Dark One may be, no matter how true our goal, it is still a war that must be won. The humans have weapons that can stop us, not just the primitive destructive weapons for mortal war, but also their pathetic faith in what they believe is their savior, he whose name would burn our tongues if even whispered,”

  Guessing they’re talking about Jesus, Scott thought.

  “Shh, you’re not supposed to say His name, it’s not allowed here,” Amelia said.

  “It is the faith of humanity we must crush, the faith that gives them their only true weapon against us, how much more will that faith be crushed if we were to turn a warrior of lights brother, or his lover, or even his own child,” Riskel looked down, paced around the stage, the audience hooked on his words.

  “I submit that we must build a great army in this world, an army that can overwhelm them. A Vampire of my age is said to be able to kill at minimum three Hunters. We can outnumber them, if we grow our ranks we cannot be stopped, when the final battle comes, we will give the world of man a tribulation like no other, hordes of our people and all other creatures of darkness will descend on them. We will descend on the great cities and humble hamlets alike. It will be a time for murder. For now, we must find the mortals who can see the beauty in our way of life, the righteousness of it, and we will build, we will birth an army the savior himself could never imagine having to face, that is the true wish the Dark One has for us,” Riskel raised his arms and got an even bigger cheer from the audience than Auron.

  “Wow, people seem to be really into this,” Scott said, moving his hand up and down Amelia’s side as he was entertained by what he hoped was just an elaborate play being put on in front of him.

  “This debate is very important, the drama between these two has been building for weeks,” Amelia said.

  “Drama? Like they’re actually serious about this?” Scott said.

  “Oh yes,” Amelia looked up at him, “This is a very serious subject, the Covenant is all about finding the true will the Dark Lord, those two can’t even talk to each other without arguing,” she smiled, “Drama, remember what I told you? Highschool without all the shitty parts of high school, just the fun,” she joked, tugging him away as the audience dispersed, “So I hope you appreciate the fact I’ve been talking you up, my new Damane, speaking of you to the higher levels, you’re getting a privilege tonight,” she said, “Jacobin is inviting you to the second floor, for a very special ceremony,” she raised her eyebrows.

  Special ceremony? Second floor? Scott had heard the rumor that the second floor of these parties was where the real fun happened. His hand went down her arm and found hers, interlacing their fingers, “Oh, and what special privilege would that be?” he asked.

  “It’s rare a Damane is invited to do this, it’s usually reserved only for accepted, and even at that you must be an accepted of high rank,” she said. “Suvilia has procured us quite a rare sample to indulge in, I pulled some strings, told Jacobin of your promise, he agreed to letting you experience your first Sacrament tonight,” she said.

  “What exactly is a Sacrament?” Scott asked.

  Amelia turned to him, putting a hand on his cheek, stroking his face, her eyes with a dreamy look that drew Scott in with that hypnotic force he was powerless against, “You’re going to drink blood tonight,” she smiled.

  “Blood drinking, as much as I want to say you honor me with the chance, my mistress, I got to break character for a second. What exactly does that mean?” he asked.

  “Relax,” Amelia batted his chest, “Jacobin, with the deep pockets he has, has a 72’ merlot, very expensive, very dark, very red, it’s just another ritual we take place in, only for the cool kids,” She raise her eyebrows, “Ever have fifty-year-old wine?” she asked.

  “That is a luxury I could never find in the mortal world, count me in,” Scott said, “Fine wine, pretty girl, sounds fun,” Scott got back into character, “You honor me my mistress, I will take the sacrament and be humbled,” he said.

  “Oh you are learning fast, I knew you would be perfect for us,” Amelia smiled, tugging him from the backyard to the house.

  “So this is how Jacobin spends his money, buying fancy wine to drink in mansions with other Vampires. Fitzgerald did always say new money is crazy,” Scott said.

  “I hope you appreciate what an honor this is for you, Jacobin only breaks out the good stuff for our most promising members. To think he’s letting a Damane indulge in a sacrament means you are lucky, very lucky,” Amelia said as she led Scott up a staircase to the second floor. Infront of the door to the master bedroom Amelia took Scott’s hands in hers, “I’ve talked to Jacobin about your promise, you fit our group well,” she smiled, “I can’t wait to turn you, Jacobin says I’ll be able to do the honors myself,” she said, leaning up to him, standing on her toes to give him and a deep and loving kiss.

  In the master bedroom waiting for them were two of the more attractive women Scott had seen at the party earlier, one of them being Lady Suvilia, dressed in a red cocktail dress hemmed off just at her thigh, and black stockings that went up to leave just an inch of bare skin showing under her skirt and a pair of ruby red fuck-me heels. There was a young man in a black leather duster leaning against the burrow with dark slicked backed hair wearing sunglasses and a Katana strapped against his back.

  The Katana wielding Vampire looked up and scoffed, “Jacobin’s letting a Damane here tonight, that’s new,” he turned to Amelia, “You sure he’s cool?” he asked, he would have been intimidating if he didn’t look like he weighed about a hundred and twenty pounds wet.

  Amelia held her shoulders high with pride, “May I remind you, Resiven, that almost every Damane I’ve taken under my wing has been risen to the accepted, I felt it important that Jacobin see that I’ve found us another true believer,” she raised her eyebrows and looked to Scott with lust.

  Other Damne? What did that mean, how many guys at this party started as saps like Scott Amelia swindled into playing Vampire once every two weeks?

  Amelia continued to dice into Resiven “You were Damane yourself once, be more understanding to the Clan finding a promising new member, right Edward?” Amelia smiled, with a bit of bitch in her voice calling him by his human name.

  “You may be a higher rank then me, I guess I should defer to your wisdom, Mistress Amelia,” Resiven gave her a bow of respect. God damn these people took this game seriously. No wonder there might be some psycho amongst them.

  Then Jacobin entered the room, carrying an aura of authority as the Clan’s leader. He went right to Suvilia. It was a bit odd, seeing this overweight, uncleaned shaved mess of a man take such a beautiful woman in his arms and enveloping her in a deep and sensual kiss. He kept his arm around Suvilia as he turned to the others in the room, “Welcome accepted,” he smiled, “To be chosen to take part in this ritual is a high honor, some of you have had this honor before,” he turned and gave Resiven a nod of respect, then looked to Amelia and smiled. “I’ve procured quite the sacrament for us,” he turned to Suvilia, “Dear, if you will?” he grinned.

  Suvilia went to a mini-fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine along with a small glass bottle. Resiven gathered some glasses for them on a tray he laid on the dresser as Suvilia laid the glass bottle on the dresser and uncorked the wine.

  Scott recognized that glass. The same type of vial that Jacobin and Suvilia had enjoyed on the dancefloor at the last party.

  “A fine drink for us, the essence of life, the drink that gives us our power,” he smiled as Suvilia slowly and sensually poured six glasses, emptying the very expensive bottle of wine before reaching for the glass bottle with a mysterious red liquid in it. Up close now, Scott noticed that Jacobin was sporting some very real looking fake Vampire teeth. Scott noticed more than a few people at the party who wore these fake Vampire teeth. Most people had the dime store version you buy at party city for Halloween, but Scott noticed that Jacobin’s set was obviously of higher quality, they didn’t deter his speech at all, probably custom made, incisors that looked sharp enough to rip into any mortal’s neck.

  Scott wanted to ask Amelia what was in the other bottle. No way it could be blood. But knowing that Jacobin could himself be a potential psychopath, the thought stayed in his mind. No, Amelia wasn’t like that, she wouldn’t actually drink blood. But the liquid was quite a deep shade of red. What on earth could it be? Suvilia took the glass and poured it into each glass of wine, taking a careful hand as she swirled each glass to mull the concoction.

  Suvilia handed a glass of wine to Jacobin and kissed his neck, grinning with the same look on her face that Amelia had when she drew Scott into the nonsense that was these Vampire parties.

  “What is that stuff, anyway?” Scott asked Amelia.

  “What else do you think it is, it’s blood,” she said, giving Scott a wink.

  Scott rolled his eyes, “What is it really?” he asked.

  “Don’t ask questions, you’ll ruin the illusion, it’s just a show, I promise it’s not blood, not human blood at least,” she whispered in his ear, winked, and gave him a reassuring peck on the cheek.

  Suvilia continued to pass out the glasses. She seemed to go in order of seniority, Jacobin first, followed by the other woman, then Amelia, then Resiven, then finally Scott.

  Jacobin held his glass up, “Now brothers and sisters, let us feed,” he said, smile proud and commanding of those under him to engage in this sacred sacrament.

  “Don’t drink it too fast, that’s impolite,” Amelia whispered to Scott as he watched Jacobin take the first drink, followed by Suvilia, then Amelia, then Resiven, Scott assumed that was his cue. He brought the wineglass to his nose, swirled it around a bit, took the scent of it, didn’t smell like blood. He took a sip of it and wow, it was potent. He didn’t know if it was the age of the wine or the secret ingredient that Suvilia added to it, but it tasted strong.

  “Go on, enjoy,” Amelia said, taking another sip of her drink, “It’s quite potent tonight, such a delicious sacrament,” she smiled, holding her glass up to Scott, “To the pleasures mortals can never understand,” she smiled at Scott. And Scott in good form clicked his drink with hers, taking another sip of it.

  Suvilia approached Scott and Amelia, “So Lady Amelia, you say that this Damane you have has promise?” she asked.

  “Oh yes, he’ll be a powerful warrior for us, and his brother-” Amelia said.

  Scott was four or five sips in as Amelia conversed with Suvilia he felt his body tingling. He tried to listen to the discussion between the two high ranking Vampires, but he couldn’t focus. Did fifty-year-old wine really have that effect on you? All he could focus on was when Amelia gave him an order. Telling him to sit down on the bed, guiding him through his inebriation, and commanding him to finish his drink. Whatever it was Suvilia had spiked the wine with was doing a number on his cognitive functions. He could feel his pupils dilate to where he could barely see any light before he passed out. The rest of the night was all blackness. He could only remember bits and pieces.

  “He’s Damane, A Damane must be fed on first, it’s the first step,” A voice that might have been Suvilia’s said.

  Scott was wandering through a high unlike anything he had ever experienced, a great world he seemed to float through, just words coming to him as he tried to center himself in the grand darkness of whatever high the spiked wine had given him, Amelia’s voice was his anchor back to the real world, drawing him in, giving him some sense of reality “When you’re turned, you will see wonders beyond your imagination,” Amelia’s voice said.

  “Another Hunter turned, that’s a high accomplishment,” the echoes of Suvilia’s voice said just before Scott completely passed out.

  Scott awoke the next morning in his car, all the other people parked had apparently already left, he was one of three cars left on the side of the road in the very nice neighborhood. Scott rubbed his head. It was throbbing. He reached into his pocket and found his keys. His hands fumbled, trying to hit his ignition.

  “Come on,” Scott said, closing his eyes and groaning. He had been hungover before, but this was another level of hung over, this was quite the advanced hangover. With his key in the ignition, Scott declined to rev his engine yet. “Did I just drink blood?” he asked himself. “No. Blood would make you vomit, blood wouldn’t do that, it couldn’t have been blood, that wine was too good for it to have been mixed with blood,” Scott imagined blood would have a metallic coppery tasted, that wine was as smooth as the top shelf whiskey Dad broke out every Christmas since Hank was twenty-one and Scott was eighteen.

  Scott lifted his shirt and looked to his stomach to make sure his kidney wasn’t stolen, no scar plus the fact his asshole wasn’t sore means that the drugging he was subjected too was probably mostly innocent. He felt a throbbing in his left wrist. He turned it up and rolled up his sleeve.

  “What the fuck,” Scott said. On his wrist was a fresh wound, barely healed, an imprint of teeth just two inches up his arm, as if he was bitten into by a rabid animal.

  “I fucking got bit,” he said to himself. It shouldn’t have been that surprising. He was hanging out with Vampires. Vampires bite people, that’s what they do. For a second he counted himself lucky that the bite was on his arm and not one on his neck, draining his jugular and leaving him another dead body in a ditch somewhere.

  Scott tried to remember the night, there was the debate, then he went upstairs, the wine, the sacrament as Jacobin called it. Vampires, the Dark One, a promise that Amelia wanted to turn him. What kind of fucked up group was this?

  Scott turned his key, revved the four-cylinder engine of his 05’ cavalier. He needed a medical professional right now, and there was only one professional he could trust with a story this crazy. Scott pulled out of his parking space, and headed downtown, towards the station.