Page 54 of My Mr. Vampire

“Yes, she’s young. I think it’s only been seven years for her.”

“Even if she’s aware of all the cameras, there is no reason she thinks we have the resources to track her. The worst case is she wanted us to track her and find her. She may think she’s setting a trap, but there’s nothing I’ve seen of this vampire that leads me to believe she’s some mastermind. I only see an entitled human that was made into a vampire and can’t handle vampirism or rejection from her maker. Vampires love their makers because we are grateful to them, not because we are sired to them. Her behavior with Zand is just the lingering feelings of possessiveness that humans feel. Sometimes it takes up to ten years for human feelings to dissipate and the vampire genome to completely take over.”

“How do you know all of this?” I asked, intrigued by her information.

“I’m a student of Heinrich August Ossenfelder and Richard von Krafft-Ebing.”

“Who?” I never heard of those dudes.

Natasha turned back to glare at me. “And they say Americans are stupid.”

“Who said that?”

“You American vampires know nothing about your vampire history. You people really need to read a book.”

“How old are you?”

“None of your business. Stupid questions get zero answers.”

“Sorry, I asked. You must be very ancient.”

“Enough of this useless banter.” Natasha tapped another key, and one monitor enlarged to show Teresa approaching a building with a neon sign. “She was here at Club Bailar Caliente. It’s a Mexican club on the West Side. She enters at 11:42 PM and leaves at 2:17 AM. Go, back, and sit.” She orders me and I do as I am told.

My fingers drum against the arm of the chair. “A Mexican club? She was White. I think maybe Polish before she was turned. She’s not exactly the nightlife type. She did work in a small dive bar when she was human.”

“Maybe she’s hunting.” Natasha said. “It’s easier to bleed and kill the people of color. When they go missing, the public doesn’t seem to notice or care. Minority mysterious deaths rarely make the news. Black and brown people are safer and easier targets for vampires.”

The implication hung between us. Teresa, like all of us, needs to feed. But unlike my brother Zand, who has established rules and protocols for feeding within his territory, Teresa has always been a rule breaker. Keeping our existence a secret has meant that we had to stop killing humans. We don’t need to murder to survive and most of us adhere to this rule of not taking human lives. We know we’re stronger and superior. Therefore, we have nothing to prove.

“I did a deep dive and hacked all the cameras outside the club. Teresa has been back three times in the past week.”Natasha continued, pulling up more footage. “Always alone, always leaving alone. But she stays for hours.”

“Are there any cameras inside the club?”

“I don’t think so. I can’t seem to pick up on anything inside.”

I ran a hand through my short hair. I sometimes forget that I cut it all off. “So, what’s at this club? What is she doing in there?”

“This is what you will find out.” Natasha swiveled in her chair. “I need you to stake out the club. Follow the lovesick bitch if she emerges. Find out what she is doing, who she is meeting.”

My stomach tightened. “Why me?” I asked, though I already know the answer. “Zand has an entire security team.”

“Because I can’t leave Zand unprotected, and I know you want her dead just as much as I do.” Natasha said bluntly. Then, seeing my expression, she softened slightly.

“How do you know I want her dead?”

“She is the only thing left that stands between you getting your relationship back with Zand. Teresa is living proof of the knife you shoved in your brother’s back. If she is dead, the reminder of your betrayal is dead, too. You want to be in Zand’s inner circle. You want his love back more than anything. Look at me and tell me I am wrong?”

She had read me like she had a direct line into my brain stem. “You’re not wrong. I want things to go back to the way it was before Teresa came into our lives. I want my brother back. I want his forgiveness, not his tolerance.”

“Your honestly is what makes you the perfect vampire for the job. You know Teresa. You can recognize her patterns, her body language. Things others might miss, you will see.”

I couldn’t argue with that logic. “Fine.” I said, leaning back. “But I’m not walking the city streets. I’m going to need a car.”

Natasha nodded and reached into her desk drawer. She pulled out a set of car keys and slid them across to me. “Dark sedan, unmarked, parked in the private lot. Tank is full.”

Next came a cell phone—old-school flip model, the kind that couldn’t be easily tracked. “Burner phone. My hot number is only one programmed. Call if you see something significant. Text for minor updates. Do not take your personal cell phone. If you are captured or killed, there is no way to get the numbers of Zand’s people.”

I pocketed both items, already mentally preparing for a long night of surveillance. “Anything else I should know?”

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