Second Life Read online

  Which brought them to her. Every day, trudging to the kitchen he passed her room. Every time he walked by, he caught her scent seeping under the door and his chest ached a little bit. And as the days passed, the smell that brought his fiery angel to mind became a little fainter, a little less real to him.

  Just like his ex Susan.

  Just like having a twin.

  Just like having caring, attentive parents.

  Just like all the things that were supposed to last.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “You asked to see me, elder Verminga?” Elliot Pierce ducked inside the office of the Council’s most senior member, closing the door behind him.

  Unlike many of the vampires he’d met, Elder Verminga entered her Second Life in her late middle age. Though still stunning, it was rumored her harsh and unforgiving nature was due to the youth that constantly surrounded her.

  To Elliot, she was simply his employer; her inability to see anything beyond black and white made his job easier, more straightforward.

  “Yes, Pierce. A complaint came across my desk this evening. Elder Ari Regulus has requested recompense for the death of one of his subjects.” A delicate hand extended a folder to him.

  “This is all there is?” Elliot asked while thumbing through the half a dozen pages. Steel grey eyes bored a hole in him.

  “It is all you need,” Verminga snapped.

  “Yes, Elder.” Elliot bowed slightly at the waist and turned to leave.

  “It’s a very simple matter, Pierce,” the vampire called after him. “I expect it resolved and you back within the week.”

  “Of course, Elder.” Turning to bow again, he retreated out the door and away from the unusually irritable Council member. Palming his phone, Elliot dialed one of his greatest resources, not to mention one of the few vampires he considered a friend.

  “Cody? Hey, I need you to put out a blast for me. I’m looking for a vamp named Claire Wallace.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  “This is bullshit,” Mike cursed to no one in particular. The calendar on the wall did nothing to soothe his temper, red exes a blaring reminder of the nights spent waiting… always waiting.

  Mike ripped it from the wall and threw it across the room, hitting one of the lackluster paintings just right. Tilt. Crash.

  Nothing.

  “Seriously!” he yelled, sure that at least a few of the other vampires in the hotel would hear him. “No one’s even curious what that was?”

  Again, nothing but silence.

  “Course not,” Mike grumbled. “No fucking accountability.” Throwing a duffel on the bed, he shoved his meager wardrobe inside, taking care not to let his new strength rip the bag. On top he carefully placed his laptop, the one thing he had left over from his first life. Inside was all his research in regards to finding Meghan, up until his trip to Baltimore.

  All I really need anyway.

  "No scratch that," he said out loud. Moving aside the mess he'd made with the calendar and wall art, he retrieved his cell phone from a drawer. After Ben returned it to him a few weeks ago, Mike had tossed it in the small desk and forgotten about it. A bit more rummaging located a cord to charge it and the tiny thing flickered to life. While he waited for it to boot up, he picked at a spot on the back. A smell reached his nose as the mark flaked apart, and only then did he realize what it was: his blood. Back from when I was human. Mike's stomach roiled at the memories until a welcome chirp distracted him. Flipping back to the front he found six voicemails waiting for him.

  Trying to remember any loose ends he might've missed before jumping head first down the proverbial rabbit hole, he played the first message from two weeks ago.

  "Mister Monroe this is Apex Security calling. We wanted to alert you to an alarm at the Peppercorn Lane address..."

  Mike frowned while the message continued: he'd rented his childhood home on Peppercorn to his buddy Jimmy before he'd come to New Orleans. Curiosity piqued, Mike pressed a button to move on to the next message.

  "Mike, it's Jimmy. So, yeah, there's been some weird stuff going on here. A couple of dead deer on the property, and then this break in today... Mary swears she saw someone at the window in the baby's room last night. Freaked her the hell out. Anyway, I'm going to get some security cameras put in I think... I'll call Mae next. Mary wants me to get on this, even though it's probably fine. See ya."

  The following message was from Mae, basically repeating Jimmy's message. The only addition was her informing him of the go ahead she'd given to have the security cameras installed.

  The fourth message was dated a week prior, another from Apex Security about a triggered alarm. An uncomfortable knot formed in his stomach and he skipped past the report of yet another break in, this time at night.

  "Mister Monroe, this is Detective Martinez with the Burnet County Sheriff's Office. We need to speak with you regarding an incident at 5379 Peppercorn Lane as soon as possible." The detective left his number and reiterated the need to contact him immediately.

  "Jesus," Mike muttered while the final message queued up. It was a day after the alarm and detective's call.

  "Michael, this is Mae." Her voice broke and it took her a moment before she could continue. "It's ah, really important that you call me as soon as you get this. Something's..." another pause followed by a sniff, "something's happened to Jimmy and Mary... I need you to call me, okay honey?" Her voice faltered again and Mike gripped the edge of the desk hard. "Okay, bye bye."

  Any second thoughts he might've encountered about leaving the basement vaporized. He recognized the signs: the call from the police, the tone in Mae's voice. He'd experienced them twice before in his former life; once when his sister went missing, then again when his parents died. Something horrible had happened and Mike needed to get home

  Odds were they’d try to stop him.

  They're welcome to try.

  Shouldering his bag, Mike took the phone and charger and headed for the elevator. He'd just punched the button when a voice stopped him.

  “Where do you think you’re going?”

  From the tone of Ben’s voice, he knew this would be no easy fight.

  “I’m leaving.” Maybe if he was vague, Ben wouldn’t care enough to stop him.

  “Is that so? And what are you going to do once you leave?”

  Mike turned with an irritated sigh, ready to get this over with. “There's an emergency back home. I have to go."

  "What home?" Ben strode towards him at a leisurely pace, wearing jeans and a brown button-up shirt, walking with all the swagger of the pirate he claimed not to be.

  "My home. Back in Texas," Mike snapped.

  "That home belonged to a human who died three weeks ago."

  "Yeah. What the hell ever, man." The elevator dinged and he turned on the callous asshole. Just as he made to step through the open doors, Ben's arm shot out and blocked him. Breathing deeply, he reminded himself that despite the fact he surpassed Ben by maybe forty pounds and six inches, the vampire could still drop him in an instant.

  "Suppose I let you leave. Do you honestly think you're ready to be around humans?"

  "I'll be fine."

  "Really? Because I'm willing to bet you won't make it two days before your friends and family turn into walking food sources." With a flick of his wrist Ben knocked the duffel off Mike's shoulder and onto the floor. "Even if you shoved that solely full of blood — unlikely — most of it would spoil before you'd get any use out of it."

  "Are you through?" Mike growled, putting his face inches away from the other vampire's.

  "And then what, Mikey? You rush to the rescue, playing the hero to your old life... and then what?"

  "I’m going to find Meghan.”

  “Who?” The smirk he shot Mike as the elevator doors finally closed was another thread in his slowly unraveling control.

  “You know damn well who. I’m going to go find my sister Meghan.”

 
“And what, you’re going to just walk up to the first person you see and ask for directions? Do you even know how often fledgling vampires need to feed? Where’s the best place to feed from on a human? How will you keep them from calling for help, before or after you’ve had your fill? Where will you sleep during the day? Do you know how to defend yourself?” He walked slowly around Mike firing question after question at him, strategically breaking his resolve little by little.

  He had an answer for the last one at least. “I’m not completely helpless. I can handle myself in a fight.”

  “A fight with a vampire? Really? Because I thought that was what got you into all this mess in the first place.” Ben stepped directly in front of him, once again inches from his face. “If you think you can take a full grown vampire in your third week, let’s see it." When Mike looked up at the ceiling at an attempt to keep his shaking fists at his sides, the vampire added, "First shot’s free.”

  The only thing that kept him from taking that free shot at Ben was the memory from his first night and how it felt when another vampire touched him.

  “Well, look at that,” Ben chuckled, “you’re not a complete idiot at all.” He took a step back. “If you want to go on some long adventure and stay the hell away from me for a few decades, I’m game. Claire however, wouldn’t be too happy with me if I let you walk out unprepared.” Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ben sighed. “Come along. It’s not like I’m not up to my eyeballs in work already.” With that he walked away, entering the second to last door on the right.

  Standing there, Mike weighed his options. He could still head home and... then what? Ben was right; he knew next to nothing about being a vampire, not that anyone had bothered to teach him. Which meant, lest he cause more havoc back in Texas, he needed suffer through Ben’s condescension long enough to at least not be a danger when he left. He dropped his bag off in his room before heading to his new teacher's office.

  "I'm staying on one condition," he announced in the doorway.

  "Is that so?" Ben asked with a raised eyebrow, lounging behind his desk.

  "I won't go, but I have to call home. Something really bad has happened, and I'm not going to know what until I get in touch with the police." When he failed to convince, Mike added, "The longer I wait, the more interested the police are going to be. Do you really want them to come looking for me? Here?"

  Ben chewed his bottom lip, stopping only when he'd reached a decision.

  "Done. But," he pointed a finger at Mike, "we will discuss what you can and cannot say, and you'll make the call here. On speaker. With me."

  "Fine," Mike gritted through clenched teeth. It was probably the best offer he was going to get.

  *****

  Ben was in the middle of planning some vampire meeting for Khale, so despite his insistence that he had to teach Mike something today, in reality he just supervised. It reminded Mike of study hall. He was given an ancient book with no visible title and told to make himself familiar with it while Ben took care of some business. The book was not to leave Ben’s office. Mike could ask questions as long as Ben wasn’t on the phone. And that was it, all the instruction he was given.

  As he began to read the book, Mike realized his time with Claire would be a boon to him. He knew you had to sleep during the day or you’d get sick, that vampires could read what a human was feeling, and that they could change their appearance at will, (though the book was a little vague on how that was actually achieved.) And of course, he was, (or would be,) incredibly strong and fast when compared to a human.

  As it turned out though, the things he had learned from Claire were also not very detailed. Not only did he have to sleep during the day, but it had to be underground, (the vampire hotel rooms he had been in before had turned out to be underground by necessity, not just prudent planning.) And apparently he had fangs that would come out when willed to help him feed.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Ben asked him at one point. In truth, Mike had been trying to will his fangs out, but he’d only succeeded in giving himself a headache and looking constipated, according to Ben. Mike decided to start asking some questions to deflect his embarrassment.

  “So where is the best place to feed on a human?”

  “Crotch.” Ben replied without looking up from a note he was writing.

  “Wait. What? The crotch?” Mike was appalled. “Yeah, I don’t think I can do this.” He pushed the ancient tome away warily.

  “The femoral vein.” Ben rolled his eyes and put his pen down to focus on Mike. “The main one on the inside of each leg. It’s too big to collapse, and, unless you’re really sloppy, your host won’t bleed out. Plus, it’s hardly noticeable.”

  “Hardly noticeable? You’re telling me I can take a bite out of someone’s leg and they won’t notice?”

  “I’m telling you that if they’re not awake when you bite them, they probably won’t notice the marks.” When Mike was still unconvinced, Ben added, “Spend a lot of time looking at your bits do you? No? Well neither do the people you’ll feed on.”

  “But how do they not wake up when you bite them?”

  “Drugs work pretty well, although there is a bit of an aftertaste as far as I’m concerned. The best is when they want you to bite them.”

  “Seriously? You drug them? And there are actually people who want to get bit?”

  “Didn't Claire… you’re saying she didn’t feed in front of you while you two were off on your little adventure?” Suddenly Ben was much more interested in their conversation.

  “The only thing I saw her do was drink from a cup with a lid and a straw. She never took the top off, or invited me to have a sip.”

  Ben chewed his lip again and appeared to be deep in thought. “But then how did she… She never drank from you? You’re sure?”

  “No, man. I offered once, but she got all weirded out by it.” Mike was beyond confused. “What, you think I should check my junk? I know she didn’t drug me. I remember everything.” As the words let his mouth, Mike was stunned by exactly how much he remembered. His terrible time with Collin, sure, but also the time he’d had with Claire. The way her hair smelled, and how often she blushed around him. Even the time in the warehouse before was taken wasn’t a totally bad memory; he'd been scared as shit, sure. But when she'd come strolling in between Mike and the three vampires ready to devour him, he had never seen anything so beautiful, or so fierce.

  “Damn,” Ben whispered quietly. The sound brought both of them out of their reveries and back to the here and now.

  “So, uh, what about “willing” my fangs out? Is that for real?”

  “It will happen when you’re thirsty and there’s food nearby. We’ll work on feeding later. I think that’s enough for the day. I’ve got some… more phone calls to make. Come back around five and we'll talk about what to say to the police.” Ben began shuffling things around on his desk and did not look at Mike again. Seeing he was clearly being dismissed, Mike went back to his room to take in what he’d learned and more importantly, what Ben hadn’t told him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  "Tell me again."

  Mike rolled his eyes and recited the story he would give to the police for the umpteenth time.

  "After I couldn't find anything on Meghan here or in Baltimore, I decided I needed to take some time. I went to Destin, Florida and rented a small house for the past three weeks. I got the first two messages, and it seemed like Mae had things handled. After that my phone got wet and I figured it was karma. I just got a new one yesterday, which is when I got the rest of the messages, yadda yadda yadda." Ignoring the stern look Ben shot him, he picked up the phone and dialed the Burnet County Sheriff's Department. Putting the phone on speaker, they waited for the detective to answer.

  "This is awful," Mike said with a grimace at the obnoxious hold music.

  "You never experienced disco." The two of them shared a brief smile before a voice came on the line.

&n
bsp; "This is Martinez."

  Just as they'd rehearsed, Mike regurgitated the story, anxious to get it over with and find out what happened with Jimmy and Mary.

  "What did you say the name of the place was where you stayed?"

  "It was, um..." Mike shot a panicked look to Ben, who was just finishing writing something on a piece of paper. Holding it up, Mike read it aloud. "Seaside Resorts of Destin."

  "Okay, and do you have their number?" Again Mike repeated what Ben scribbled down with lightning speed. "Anyone who can confirm you were there?"

  "Yeah," he answered while Ben nodded and pointed to himself, "a guy named Ben. He was the... manager?" Ben nodded again and gave him the thumbs up, despite the lame finish. "Hey, Detective, what is this all about? I thought it was just a break in."

  "No, Mr. Monroe. I'm with homicide."

  "Oh, Jesus." Mike fell into the nearest chair, hands pushing his hair back and holding it. "Jimmy?"

  "I'm afraid so."

  "And Mary? Their... baby?" he choked.

  "Unfortunately, the entire Nolan family was killed."

  "Oh my God." Mike wiped his hands down his face trying to process what he was hearing. Ben had moved to stand beside him, hands behind his back and a look of sympathy on his face.

  "I'll give it to you straight Mr. Monroe. The scene at the Peppercorn house was worse than anything I've seen before, something I hope to God I never have to see again."

  "Anything," Mike cleared his throat and tried again. "Anything you need from me, anything at all, just tell me."

  "Thanks. We're waiting on the security cam footage. Hopefully it'll give us something. What's a good number to reach you at? Just in case you drop your phone again."