Guilty Pleasures

“And that’s a worse crime than Jean-Claude choosing you to be our champion?”

“Jean-Claude is a vampire. You expect treachery from vampires.”

“You do. I do not.”

“Rebecca Miles looks like a person who’s been betrayed.”

He flinched.

Great Anita, just great, let’s emotionally abuse everyone we meet today. But it was true.

He had turned back to the window, and I had to fill the pained silence. “Vampires are not human. Their loyalty, first and foremost, must be to their own kind. I understand that. Monica betrayed her own kind. She also betrayed a friend. That is unforgivable.”

He twisted to look at me. I wished I could see his eyes. “So if someone was your friend, you would do anything for them?”

I thought about that as we drove down 70 East. Anything? That was a tall order. Almost anything? Yes. “Almost anything,” I said.

“So loyalty and friendship are very important to you?”

“Yes.”

“Because you believe Monica betrayed both of those things, it makes it a worse crime than anything the vampires did?”

I shifted in the seat, not happy with the way the conversation was going. I am not a big one for personal analysis. I know who I am and what I do, and that’s usually enough. Not always, but most of the time. “Not anything; I don’t believe in many absolutes. But, if you want a short version, yes, that’s why I’m angry at Monica.”

He nodded, as if that were the answer he wanted. “She’s afraid of you; did you know that?”

I smiled, and it wasn’t a very nice smile. I could feel the edges curl up with a dark sort of satisfaction. “I hope the little bitch is sweating it out, big time.”

“She is,” he said. His voice was very quiet.

I glanced at him, then quickly back to the road. I had a feeling he didn’t approve of my scaring Monica. Of course, that was his problem. I was quite pleased with the results.

We were getting close to the Riverfront turnoff. He had still not answered my question. In fact, he had very nicely avoided it. “Tell me about freak parties, Phillip.”

“Did you really threaten to cut out Monica’s heart?”

“Yes. Are you going to tell me about the parties or not?”

“Would you really do it? Cut out her heart, I mean?”

“You answer my question, I’ll answer yours.” I turned the car onto the narrow brick roads of the Riverfront. Two more blocks and we would be at Guilty Pleasures.

“I told you what the parties are like. I’ve stopped going the last few months.”

I glanced at him again. I wanted to ask why. So I did. “Why?”

“Damn, you do ask personal questions, don’t you?”

“I didn’t mean it to be.”

I thought he wasn’t going to answer the question, but he did. “I got tired of being passed around. I didn’t want to end up like Rebecca, or worse.”

I wanted to ask what was worse, but I let it go. I try not to be cruel, just persistent. There are days when the difference is pretty damn slight. “If you find out that all the vampires went to freak parties, call me.”

“Then what?” he asked.

“I need to go to a party.” I parked in front of Guilty Pleasures. The neon was quiet, a dim ghost of its nighttime self. The place looked closed.

“You don’t want to go to a party, Anita.”

“I’m trying to solve a crime, Phillip. If I don’t, my friend dies. And I have no illusions about what the master will do to me if I fail. A quick death would be the best I could hope for.”

He shivered. “Yeah, yeah.” He unbuckled the seat belt and rubbed his hands along his arms, as if he were cold. “You never answered my question about Monica,” he said.

“You never really told me about the parties.”

He looked down, staring at the tops of his thighs. “There’s one tonight. If you have to go, I’ll take you.” He turned to me, arms still hugging his elbows. “The parties are always at a different location. When I find out where, how do I get in touch with you?”

“Leave a message on my answering machine, my home number.” I got a business card out of my purse and wrote my home phone number on the back. He got his jean jacket out of the back seat and stuffed the card into a pocket. He opened the door, and the heat washed into the chill, air-conditioned car like the breath of a dragon.

He leaned into the car, one arm on the roof, one on the door. “Now, answer my question. Would you really cut out Monica’s heart, so she couldn’t come back as a vampire?”

I stared into the blackness of his sunglasses and said, “Yes.”

“Remind me never to piss you off.” He took a deep breath. “You’ll need to wear something that shows off your scars tonight. Buy something if you don’t have it.” He hesitated, then asked, “Are you as good at being a friend as you are an enemy?”

I took a deep breath and let it out. What could I say? “You don’t want me for an enemy, Phillip. I make a much better friend.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet you do.” He closed the door and walked up to the club door. He knocked, and a few moments later the door opened. I got a glimpse of a pale figure opening the door. It couldn’t be a vampire, could it? The door closed before I could see much. Vampires could not come out in daylight. That was a rule. But until last night I had known vampires could not fly. So much for what I knew.

Whoever it was had been expecting Phillip. I pulled away from the curb. Why had they sent him at his flirtatious best? Had he been sent to charm me? Or was he the only human they could get at short notice? The only daytime member of their little club. Except for Monica. And I wasn’t real fond of her right now. That was just dandy with me.

I didn’t think Phillip was lying about the freak parties, but what did I know about Phillip? He stripped at Guilty Pleasures, not exactly a character reference. He was a vampire junkie, better and better. Was all that pain an act? Was he luring me someplace, just as Monica had?

I didn’t know. And I needed to know. There was one place I could go that might have the answers. The only place in the District where I was truly welcome. Dead Dave’s, a nice bar that served a mean hamburger. The proprietor was an ex-cop who had been kicked off the force for being dead. Picky, picky. Dave liked to help out, but he resented the prejudice of his former comrades. So he talked to me. And I talked to the police. It was a nice little arrangement that let Dave be pissed off at the police and still help them.

It made me nearly invaluable to the police. Since I was on retainer, that pleased Bert to no end.

It being daytime, Dead Dave was tucked in his coffin, but Luther would be there. Luther was the daytime manager and bartender. He was one of the few people in the District who didn’t have much to do with vampires, except for the fact that he worked for one. Life is never perfect.

I actually found a parking place not far from Dave’s. Daytime parking is a lot more open in the District. When the Riverfront used to be human-owned businesses, there was never any parking on a weekend, day or night. It was one of the few positives of the new vampire laws. That and the tourism.

St. Louis was a real hot spot for vampire watchers. The only place better was New York, but we had a lower crime rate. There was a gang that had gone all vampire in New York. They had spread to Los Angeles and tried to spread here. The police found the first recruits chopped into bite-size pieces.

Our vampire community prides itself on being mainstream. A vampire gang would be bad publicity, so they took care of it. I admired the efficiency of it but wished they had done it differently. I had had nightmares for weeks about walls that bled and dismembered arms that crawled along the floor all by themselves. We never did find the heads.