Skin and Bones

  North Main Street was heaving, the who’s who of supernatural creatures and wannabes emerging on the city’s supernatural quarter. Long before the world was made aware that creatures from their nightmares roamed the streets, Cork City’s North Main Street catered to those in the know and those who wished to hide what they were from the humans around them.

  Of course, when the supes came out of the closet, the owners of the businesses around North Main Street capitalized on the sudden influx of new customers and amped up the cheese factor. There were vampire-themed bars, where your favorite movie vampire look-alikes served vampire-themed cocktails. There was a banshee karaoke bar right next to a ghoul restaurant. And then there were the places that sometimes humans went into but never came out. But those places were mere whispers on the wind, and like the bogeyman in the shadows, places like Chester’s and the things that went on inside them were myths used to scare the humans away.

  On this Friday, the night sky was clear with only the tiniest scent of rain in the air. Crowds thronged the cobbled streets, searching for some mediocre thrill, either to release them from their mundane lives or to dull the ache that came with an almost eternal life. Although most humans craved the chance to live forever, the creatures who bore the curse of eternity would have given it up in a heartbeat… well, if they’d had one, that is.

  Caitlyn slowed her pace as she reached the outskirts of Supernatural Central, as it was affectionately called. Moments later, Donnie halted next to her, his aura so finely in tune with her own that she could sense his presence from miles away. Reborn barely twenty years ago, Donnie had been the only vampire Caitlyn had made. She had a desire not to inflict the Hunger on another, meaning she had lived a very lonely life. But, as she glanced sideways at the companion who had failed to leave her side since he’d been reborn as a vampire, the night Donnie had been made flashed through her mind—as it did regularly—as if it had only been yesterday.

  Torrents of rain fell, soaking the streets of Dublin. The throbbing sound of music itched on her sensitive hearing; the crooning of an Irish ballad filled the air as she passed a public house. Thunder rumbled above, and Caitlyn quickened her pace, the Hunger a driving force in her actions. She had left it far too late to feed, the need growing and growing until she could no longer stand the burn that forced her out on this blustery night.

  Dublin’s Temple Bar was suffocated with people. It had always been a beacon for tourists, making it the best place to find a quick bite. A person straying away from their group was an easy target for a hungry vampire.

  Caitlyn let her ankle-length duster fall open to reveal the leather pants and top she wore. Yes, she knew it was vampire cliché, but for speed and comfort, she needed the flexibility of it. Her thick-heeled boots, custom made with hidden blades in the soles, clattered along the busy street as she weaved in between the people with the grace of a dancer and the stealth of a prowling panther.

  Leaning against a damp wall, Caitlyn’s gaze wandered over the crowds that had gathered in the crossroads where pubs and fast-food patrons merged. Nobody seemed to mind the rain, the alcohol that flooded their bloodstream making them careless, clumsy even. Caitlyn clenched her nails into the palm of her hand, drawing blood as another wave of Hunger almost brought her to her knees.

  Many saw being made vampire as a blessing, a reward, but Caitlyn thought otherwise. Made almost two hundred years ago in France, Caitlyn had despised what she had become from the moment she had opened her eyes as a newly born vampire. The Hunger took away all the good things about being a vampire—the speed, the beauty, the strength, and the immortality. The curse of the Hunger, and the inevitable lives lost because of it, weighed heavily on her heart, even if it no longer fluttered in her chest.

  Caitlyn’s attention was yanked from her thoughts as her eyes latched onto a young man being cast out of a public house by two bouncers. He landed on the ground in a drunken heap as people simply walked around him. She didn’t even take in his appearance; the Hunger didn’t care whose blood she drank, as long as she drank. The Hunger roared in her ears, and she eased off the wall, slowly making her way to the drunken man.

  Bending down, she let her fingers dance on his shoulder. He turned and looked up into her eyes. Smiling at the lust in his eyes, she helped him to stand, leaning in to whisper false promises of a night of passion-fuelled fun. He followed her, and Caitlyn could feel the weight of his gaze as she sashayed down an alleyway. As soon as he was within distance, she yanked him into a doorway. He pressed his eager body up against hers, and she almost shuddered in disgust. Tilting his head slightly to the left, she ignored his groan as he slipped his hands inside her jacket to clasp a hand over her breast.

  Quick as a striking snake, Caitlyn let her fangs extend, sinking them into the man’s exposed throat. The man made to jerk away, but she held on to him by the belt of his jeans and drank. As soon as the whisky-laced blood hit the back of her throat, Caitlyn groaned her satisfaction. The monster inside her urged her to take more, to drink her fill and take his life, but after a couple of pulls, she retracted her fangs, licking over the wound to stop the bleeding. The man wavered on his feet as she placed a hand on either side of his face. The unsteady man stared into her eyes, and she commanded him to forget all about her, advising him to make his way back to his friends.

  She watched the man stagger away, heading back the way they had come, and she carefully wiped the blood from her lips with her thumb. Straightening her clothing, Caitlyn went to step out of the cover of the doorway when she heard a scuffle.

  Her eyes darted to a group of men who were gathered around a body, kicking the living hell out of it. The poor man had no chance of survival, the abuse his body took a stark reminder of the night she had been made vampire herself. You could barely see the outline of the man’s face through the blood pouring from numerous cuts and lacerations. Three against one was unfair, and Caitlyn itched to snuff out the lives of those who were in the process of playing God.

  Two of the men had backed off; the last man lifted his leg and stomped down hard on the bloodied man’s face. The beaten man stilled, but Caitlyn could still hear the faint murmur of a heartbeat. The men snickered, spitting on their victim before leaving him to face death in the alleyway. A lump formed in her throat, but she knew the man had no other chance to survive.

  Caitlyn rushed over to the man and finally got a chance to see him up close. Despite broad, muscular shoulders and a thick neck, the man looked so fragile in his dying state. Full lips graced a handsome face, but his blue eyes were glazed over, his breathing shallow and wheezy.

  His eyes locked onto hers. Caitlyn’s breath caught for a moment. Those eyes looked at her as if she were a savior. She almost stopped what she was doing, or what she was about to do, hating the sense that this man saw her as something other than what she was.

  He tried to speak, but blood gurgled in his throat as he coughed, splattering blood on the sleeves of her coat. He reached out a wobbly hand, and she grasped hold of it.

  “Please do not speak. I will ask you a question, and if you say yes then you and I will be forever tied together. Blink once for yes and twice for no. Do you understand me?”

  A blink.

  “I can save your life, but it will not be the life that you imagined you would live. Would you be willing to live another life for the chance to see another sunset?”

  The silence was deafening as she waited for an answer, and the rain began to pour down hard on them before the man finally blinked his eyes once.

  Caitlyn gave him a small, sad smile and said, “I do hope you can forgive me once you are reborn. And that you do not resent me for this.”

  Confusion pierced his eyes as she raised her wrist to her lips, released her fangs, and scored her flesh. Blood welled on her skin, and she held her wrist to the man’s lips. He struggled at first, but then the blood worked down his throat. She waited until she knew he had enough in his system before pulling her wrist away from his lip
s.

  His eyes rolled back, his body convulsing. Placing her hands around his neck, she said a silent prayer in her mother tongue before twisting and snapping the man’s neck. He stilled, dead for certain now, but in three days’ time, he would rise again and she would be saddled with a baby vampire for many years. She scooped her arms under his body, lifting him with ease. Crouching low, she jumped up to the rooftops and disappeared into the dead of night.

  “You must stop letting the past haunt you, Cait.”

  Donnie’s voice slammed her back into the present, and Caitlyn fluttered her lashes on her cheeks before she looked him. “When you have lived as long as I have, then the past will haunt you as well. Shall we go?”

  Without waiting for a reply, Caitlyn sauntered past the long line, coming to a halt at a red door by the side of Chester’s main entrance. Sensing the ever-present Donnie behind her, she danced her knuckles on the door three times. The door creaked open, and a meaty bouncer ran his gaze over her, then Donnie.

  “Agent Hardi and Agent O’Carroll to see Chester.”

  Holding the door open for them, the bouncer nodded.

  Caitlyn continued up the stairs, normally hating having someone at her back, but with Donnie she felt safe, protected. At the top of the stairs, she veered to the left, moving forward until she came to a door that was slightly ajar. Tension tightening her muscles, Caitlyn rolled back her shoulders and cracked her neck.

  A warm hand grasped her shoulder. Caitlyn peered back at Donnie. He gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze, a tiny ghost of a smile tweaking his lips, before he returned to the strong, silent guise that he had down to a fine art.

  Caitlyn pushed the door fully open, her feet vibrating under the pulse of music that drummed below them. Biting back the bitter taste in her mouth as she laid eyes on Chester, Caitlyn took in the vampire’s appearance. Thin and tall, he had decades on Caitlyn. He was wearing the same smug expression he always wore, like the cat about to eat the mouse after having spent hours toying with it. His long nose seemed so out of place on his pale face, and his dark brown hair slicked back to curve around his nape. Chester sat grinning at her, tapping his fingers against each other, very à la your typical movie villain.

  “Caitlyn, always a pleasure. And Donald, have you given any thought to joining my kiss? I must be wearing you down by now.”

  Her partner shook his head. “As I’ve told you many times, Chester, I join your kiss the day Caitlyn joins. Not before.”

  Chester narrowed his eyes, his bleached eyebrows almost meeting. Then he shook Donnie’s reply off with the wave of a hand. Leaning back in his chair, he set his feet on top of the desk. His dress shoes were so shiny Caitlyn could almost see her reflection in them.

  “I really do wish you would stop following Caitlyn around like her personal guard dog, Donald. You’d have so much more power if you joined my kiss. Oh, you could still work for P.I.T.—I’d permit that—but obviously, you’d have to put my needs first and what’s best for the kiss. I’m sure we could work something out.”

  Donnie simply shrugged his shoulders, glancing at Caitlyn with an obvious affection that made her uncomfortable. She was certain it was all for Chester’s benefit, but something clenched inside her when Donnie looked at her like that.

  “How about some refreshments? I have some nice beauties that taste exquisite—lovely, like a fine wine. Or would you prefer some virgin skin—never been bitten? To be the first to pierce flesh… it is the most delicious taste in the world. But, you would know all about that, would you not, Caitlyn… considering who made you?”

  Donnie stepped forward, his fists clenched, but he paused when Caitlyn grabbed hold of his elbow.

  It’s okay. He’s baiting me—looking for a response from us. He feeds off my discomfort. I’m fine.

  I’d love to make him bleed for the way he speaks to you.

  And I would love to see that. One day, I will see that.

  Donnie relaxed his stance and stepped back in line with Caitlyn. Chester chuckled, cracking his knuckles.

  “Interesting. So, you two can chat telepathically?” When neither vampire spoke, Chester continued. “Fine, keep your secrets. But it just makes me want you in my kiss even more.

  “Never mind. I have an eternity to convince you.” He winked, Caitlyn cringing inwardly on Donnie’s behalf. “So, what brings two of P.I.T.’s best and brightest to my humble door?”

  Caitlyn folded her arms across her chest as Chester continued to rake his eyes over Donnie. “We’re following a possible lead on the person who is responsible for the deaths of three children and the attempted kidnapping of another.”

  “Ah, yes… terrible business. Almost makes me happy that vampires cannot have young. It is a blessing, is it not Caitlyn? That we do not have to suffer as humans do and mourn the loss of a child?”

  Caitlyn tried to mask her expression, the past creeping up on her again as a knife twisted deep in her gut. The smug grin on Chester’s face acknowledged that she hadn’t hidden her reaction at all.

  Donnie spoke to Chester, dragging the old vampire’s attention from Caitlyn to him.

  “We believe he is murdering these kids because his request to be made was denied. Multiple times.”

  “We’ve had many multiple requests to be reborn. Can you be more specific?” Chester drawled, his eyes raking over Donnie’s muscular frame.

  Donnie cleared his throat. “This man would’ve stood out as being overly upset at being rejected until the very last time. Then, he would’ve been too calm—utterly accepting of your refusal. You would’ve remembered him.”

  Chester kept his smug expression, but something ran through his mind, his eyes darkening. “Timothy! Timothy!”

  The meaty bouncer who had escorted them in strode in, almost taking up the entire space of the doorway.

  “Timothy, remember that strange fellow who came in looking to be made? He wrecked the place one week, and a couple of weeks later tried again but left without so much as begging a word.”

  Nodding, Timothy replied in a soft tone, unexpected from such a stern-looking man. “Yes, he came back all apologies and asked one last time would you make him. He politely thanked you for your time and left. I remember because he gave that god-awful name, and we laughed about it for days.”

  Caitlyn’s phone rang, and she walked outside Chester’s office to answer it, brushing by Timothy.

  “Derek, we might have a lead here. Chester knows something.”

  “Listen, Caitlyn. Melanie’s missing, and Ricky is certain the man we’re looking for took her. We’re on the way back to the hospital to see if I can pick up a scent. I need you and Donnie there. Ricky said there was some blood.”

  “We’ll meet you there. Derek, we know what he does to the kids…” Her voice trailed off as if she didn’t want to finish what she’d begun to say; sometimes words had great power. “Ricky won’t be rational in this.”

  “None of us will be rational on this, Caitlyn. He came after one of us. I want his blood.”

  “You’ll have to go through me first.” Slamming the phone shut with a growl, she went back inside to pull Donnie from Chester’s clutches.

  As they hurried down the stairs, Chester called after them. “Think about my offer, Donald. Caitlyn will tire of you eventually. Once she does, you will crawl for me, Donald. I’ll enjoy watching you crawl.”

  Ignoring Chester, she slipped her hand into Donnie’s so her protégé wouldn’t storm up those stairs and detach Chester’s head from his shoulders.

  “Not now. We have bigger things to worry about.”

  The serious tone in her voice made Donnie jerk to attention. Once they were outside, Donnie slid his hand from hers and stormed his way through the crowds that still lingered outside Chester’s in the hopes of getting inside. Caitlyn had to straighten one or more drunken girls who Donnie brushed past in his rage. He disappeared round the corner, and Caitlyn had to hustle to catch up with him.

  When
she rounded the corner, he was leaning against the wall, his head resting on the brick, his palms above his head. His breathing was rapid, and Caitlyn could almost sense the fury that leaked from him.

  “Why do you let him talk to you like that?” he barked.

  “Chester and I go way back. He dislikes me for a number of reasons. One day, we’ll have it out and only one of us will walk away, but now we have bigger things to worry about.”

  Donnie spun round, taking her face in his hands. “I would rip him limb from limb if you asked me to. You know that, right?”

  She stayed in his grasp for a moment, basking in his touch, letting her emotions spill for a brief moment, and then she reluctantly eased away from him. She would never tie herself to another, never let what remained of her heart be shattered by another—even one for whom she cared.

  “That was Derek. Melanie’s missing, and Ricky thinks the suspect has her.”

  Donnie lashed out, his fist connecting with concrete as he punched a nearby wall. He bared his fangs and snarled. “Not for long… Timothy remembered who he was. We’ve got a name.”