Page 27 of Bishop's Flight
“This enemy was unprovoked.”
“Surely this isn’t the first challenge to their power.”
He’d bet that the two women had suffered more than their share of opportunists who underestimated them. They were young in the vampire world and relatively inexperienced.
“This is the first challenge that has violated their aegis like this.”
Carwyn frowned. “Zasha Sokholov doesn’t follow any accepted rules of combat.”
“Apparently not.”
They pulled into a strip mall where neon lights flickered in the window and a crooked beer sign pointed to the entrance of the club. The cars in the parking lot were a mix of rusted beaters and discreet luxury sedans.
“Feeding club?”
“We’ll start with the seediest” —Bernard got out of the car and straightened his suit— “and work our way up. I hope you fed before you joined me, because I would not advise tasting anything on the menu here.”
Carwyn glanced at the sign over the awning.Desert Craving. It was made of cracked vinyl, and there were at least three lights out, leaving the sign looking more likeDese t ravin.
“They don’t even clear enough to fix the sign?” Profitability was usually a given in a vampire club. Humans craved the bite, and vampires were happy to pay for it. It was as much of a no-brainer as humans and casinos.
“Oh, they clear plenty.” Bernard slid on a pair of blue mirrored sunglasses. “They just like this place exactly the way it is.”
They wentto three clubs before they had any success, and they got their first hit at Tequila Chaser, Gavin’s country-and-western establishment near Fremont Street.
“Oh, this girl.” Gavin’s manager Justine was cooperative. “Yeah, I’ve seen her. She likes the older ones, but she hasn’t caused any issues here. I told her no feeding was allowed in the club except from designated donors, but she just picks them up and takes them other places.” She shrugged. “You know how bite addicts are.”
There was country-and-western music blaring over the speakers in the club, and a mechanical bull was tossing pretty young men and women off its back as the crowd whooped and hollered.
It was hardly the atmosphere Gavin cultivated in most of his clubs, but Carwyn had to admit the place was packed. It was a caricature of a cowboy bar, and many vampires were dressed the part. Carwyn had even seen a pair of chaps with fringe down the side.
“How long has she been coming around?” Bernard asked.
“Maybe two or three weeks? I don’t notice all the bite bunnies, but she stood out with that hair and that skin. I thought she was your kind at first.”
“Why?”
“I mean, most people around here aren’t that pale, and…” Justine shrugged. “Just her manners, I guess. She felt older than she looked. That’s usually a clue.”
It might also indicate the young woman had been raised by vampires.
“Did you get a name?”
“I didn’t, but it would probably have been fake if I had. You can check with the security guys if you want. If she had an out-of-country ID or something, it might have stood out.”
“Did she have an accent?”
“Yes, Russian,” Justine said. “We get enough of them here that I can recognize it.”
Bernard asked, “Do you remember who she was spending time with?”
“Mostly old rich vamps looking for blood and sex. She seemed to like men and women equally.” Justine frowned. “Actually, therewassomeone who caught my attention because it seemed like they were going to have a problem but they ended up just talking.” She snapped her fingers. “Sokholov.”
“Zasha Sokholov?”
Justine frowned. “I don’t know who that is, but this was one of the clan soldiers. I don’t know his name. Dark hair and a cross tattoo right in the center of his neck. Kind of the typical look for that crowd.”
“Do they come here a lot?”
