Page 88 of Demon's Bluff
“Light footprint,” I said as I did the spell, shivering when it settled over me.
Glamours in place, we walked into the underground drop-off as if going into work. The cool of the garage was pleasant, and the elevator would get us downstairs.And from there…
I yanked on the door, frowning as it gave an inch and stopped with a metallic thud.
“You’re up,” I said, fully aware of the camera pointed at the door. No one would check the tapes. At least that’s what I told myself. Getting out with a body might be another story. Might be easier to bring Kisten here, leaving him in the John Doe Vamp’s place. One body in, one body out, and as Elyse scanned her ID, I winced, images of a wheelchair and a pasty-white man flitting through my head. Car. We needed a car. The bus would be too…memorable.
“So far, so good,” Elyse said as the door opened, and I slipped in past her.
My shoulders slumped at the heady scent of the undead, the spicy mix of sex and power going right to my groin and rebounding to make the scar on my neck tingle.
“Wow.” Elyse blinked, taking it in as she looked over the taupe walls and tiled floor. “That’s strong. And we aren’t even downstairs yet.”
“Elevator.” I raised my chin to point it out, feeling like Ivy as I hit the button in a quick staccato, trying to hurry the lift.
“Hey, Mandy,” a masculine voice called out, and Elyse spun. “They call you back?”
“Ah, no,” she said, and I pulled her stumbling into the elevator when the doors slid open. “I forgot something. Don’t tell anyone I’m here. Okay? I don’t want to get roped into anything.”
Safe in the elevator, I watched the man turn his attention to his tablet with a chuckle. “I know nothing. I see nothing,” he said, and then the doors slid shut.
Elyse exhaled, puffing out her cheeks to tell me she wasn’t half as confident as she wanted me to think. “L-3?” she guessed with an overly bright smile, and I hit the button for the floor right below that.
“L-4,” I said, steeling myself for the coming assault. I’d been to the undead emergency floor before, and it was rife with pheromones despite the massive airflow designed to remediate it. I’d been able to handle it then, but now? With a new vampire scar and a body sans two years of practice in saying no?
I winced, missing Jenks. Not only could he short out the cameras, but his smart-ass commentary would have gone a long way in keeping my libido in check. But when the elevator dinged and the doors opened, it was only the scent of antiseptic and comforting taupe walls that met me. Either the floor was empty of patients, or they made a point to keep this one clear of pheromones.
“Impressive.” Elyse strode forward, oblivious that I had seen her momentary lapse of confidence. Maintaining that took a toll, but admitting to yourself and others that you were vulnerable was a strength she needed to learn herself.
“That way,” I said, eyes on the small placard statingundead assessment. They didn’t like to use the wordmorgueuntil it was obvious they weren’t coming back, and we needed an undead vampire who had recently passed. The window wasn’t as small as one might think.
“Gurney?” Elyse suggested, and I shook my head.
“We’re just window-shopping,” I said as we slowed at the twin metal doors. Again, a tug got no response, and Elyse grinned.
“I bet Mandy has access,” she said as she held her ID to the scanner.
A bland buzz sounded, and I pulled the door open, my steps slowing at the reception desk. Actually, it appeared more like an office than a receiving area, the desk being cluttered with papers, racks of filing cabinets against one wall, and a shallow fish tank with a turtle taking up one corner. A rotary landline phone from the seventies sat to one side like the insult it was. The lights were bright and potted plants were everywhere, as if whoever they had stuck down here pined for an aboveground office.
A collage of Cincy’s bridges through the decades hung on the wall facing the desk, the pictures ranging from grainy brown-and-white to drone shots of the remodeled bridge twinkling with colored lights. Unlike the city morgue, there was no comfortable waiting room. This was someone’s office, and I studied the heavy redwood scent overpowering the faltering vampire pheromones and embalming fluid. Whoever sat at the desk was a top practitioner. What were they doing down here?
“I’ll be with you in a moment!” came a distant call, and I froze, recognizing the voice. I’d talked to her only once, but I’d know that bitter, angry, sarcastic tone anywhere.
“Um, it’s Dr. Ophees,” I whispered, and Elyse looked at my hand gripping her arm.
“She knows you?”
I let go, not sure why I’d grabbed her. “Yes. I mean, no. Not yet.”Relax, Rachel. This isn’t a problem.“We interacted for about five minutes. I’d bet my life that she didn’t recognize me then, but she…” My voice trailed off in a sudden thought. “She has a spell that separates the aura from the blood that carries it.”
Elyse’s eyebrows rose. “Seriously? That can’t be legal.”
My pulse quickened, and I stared at the open archway where Dr. Ophees’s voice had come from. “It is. Technically. I almost accidentally made a donation once. You can administer it to an unconscious vampire like a pill or salve.”
My gut hurt.Kisten.He wouldn’t be able to replenish his aura via a draft of blood as long as he was battling Art’s virus. Sure, he would starve of aura depletion somewhere between now and home even if he was under a stasis curse, but that didn’t mean he had to starve right now.
Elyse took in my silence, her eyes widening. “Rachel, no,” she whispered as she followed my train of thought. “We are here to see if they have a body. Not some miracle cure. You can’t fix this. No undead survives mixing their blood with another undead. He is going to die whether you give him an aura or not.”
“I know that, but I’m not going to watch him starve if I don’t have to,” I said bitterly. “Why don’t you check out what’s available while I keep her occupied.”