Carolyn Jewel - A Darker Crimson

Claudia Donovan crouched down to get a closer look at the bodies, the smell telling her it was bada damp smell, tangy with blood and bile. The moon hung low and pale in the sky, and darkness shrouded the freshly graded dirt. Two bodies sprawled in the shadow of a bulldozer. At one end of the lot a Dumpster overflowed with construction debris, broken sheetrock, tattered insulation and twisted re-bar. She switched on her Mag-lite. The beam illuminated the sheen of viscera.

Los Angeles , the City of Angels. It was earning its other nickname all over again. CrimsonCity. The waroh, right, the conflictbetween the species was spreading. This time, two adult males. The smaller one looked peaceful. Close cropped afro, square-chinned face, ebony skin, big brown eyes and a deep gash across his throat. The other one, John Doe Number Two, didnt look so peaceful. Both men looked dead.

Claudia reached for her police-issue pack and took out a pair of latex gloves. After a hesitation, she slipped them on. No sense not checking things out while she waited for the detectives and the M.E. to arrive. Considering shed notified the L.A.P.D. fifteen minutes before shed called the buttheads from Internal Operations, she felt confident the detectives would arrive first. Theyd better. Internal Operations unofficially Battlefield Operations or B-Ops, the city government intelligence divisionwas nothing but a freaking pain in the ass. No one in the L.A.P.D. liked them, least of all her. But in this case, damn it, she didnt have a choice. She had to notify B-Ops because of Korzha.

She glanced at the vampire just to make sure he was still there. He was. Now, there was a real piece of work. Tiberiu Korzha. He was the reputed head of the vampire family Korzha, with an army of lawyers who had so far made every prosecuting attorney in the city look like a chump. The creature stood just within sight, though much of his face remained in shadow. Mostly the P.D. dealt with rogue vamps, vampires who went outside the law and the treaty between the species or who just went flat-out insane; but Korzha had Strata +1 written all over him: He was part of their society and was as suave, rich and debonair as they came. Right now, he stood still as a statue. Claudia hoped he had control of himself. There was blood all over, including a crimson splatter on the side of the bulldozer. Spilled blood tended to make an edgy vamp edgier.

You have anything to do with this, Korzha, or you just get lucky? she asked.

Lucky, he replied. But not like he meant it.

The L.A.P.D. didnt have jurisdiction to arrest him for any of the crimes of which he was suspected racketeering, drug-trafficking, assault, forced conversion, fraud, and aiding-and-abetting all of the abovebut everybody knew Tiberiu Korzha was a killer. Anyone needed a vamp taken down, Korzha was reputedly the guy to make the hit. He intrigued her. B-Ops insisted paranormal investigations belonged to them, but Claudia didnt give a rats ass about that. There wasnt any law against the P.D. asking a vamp questions. Not yet.

Even in the dark, she took care not to meet Korzhas eyes. Hed been at her precinct for a friendly interview more than once. He liked to voodoo the ladies, give them that come-hither-for-a-mind-blowing-orgasm stare. Hed tried it once or twice with her. Damn near worked. Good-looking vamp. Werent they all? She went back to examining the bodies. She decided Korzha must have fed on at least one of the dead guys, and that was why he wasnt twitchy.

Lucky accident? Or lucky you got them both? she asked, still crouched beside the bodies. The new P.D. uniforms, dark blue and body-hugging, tended to fit poorly in the crotch. She had long legs, and her uniform pants kept riding up.

Well, the vamp said in his smooth voice. You know what they say about luck.

Yeah right. If it werent for bad luck Vamps dont have bad luck, she retorted. How much bad luck could you have if you lived in the Upper, were rolling in money and didnt die without a lot of help? Not much. Now, her? She had all kinds of luck, none good lately. Way too much overtime. All the cops were pulling extra shifts just to keep up. Her precinct had a pool going on total body count by end of month. She had one of the highest numbers. Halfway through the month, and they were almost there. Her pick looked pretty good.

This guy She pointed to the larger body. He had some bad luck, Id say. She glanced up again, kind of a sideways look so as to avoid meeting Korzhas eyes. A vamp hanging out in this neighborhood just didnt compute, not without throwing in a criminal motive or two or three. Dollars to donuts he was looking to get made. You know anything about that?

Korzhas teeth flashed in the dim light. I havent made a vampire in quite a long time.

Yeah. Right.

The last thing this city needs is more post-human wrecks running amok.

She reached into the last of the smaller corpses pockets. Surprise, surprise. He had no ID. Then somethings rotten in the State of Denmark, wouldnt you say? John Doe One looked to be the younger as well as the smaller of the two bodies. Adult human male, well developed. Good nutrition. She touched his neck and found the wounds she expected. His skin was cool, with a faint sheen of something on the surface. There were two puncture wounds, and about a centimeter and a half below that a scatter line of petechiae from lower teeth pressing up, and two telltale bruises from lower canines.

Korzha hunkered down beside her, watching curiously.

Got hungry, did you? she asked.

She pretended she didnt notice his shoulder practically touching hers. The problem with vamps like Korzha, besides the sharp teeth and insatiable lust for human blood, was the combination of physical and supernatural charisma. Supposedly the man had been good-looking when he was human, and becoming a vamp must have tripled the effect. When the subject came up, which it did whenever he got hauled to the precinct for a little polite interrogation, most every woman agreed Korzha was a fine-looking man. Yummy was the adjective most often applied. Rumor was, a lot of other vamps imitated his looks. Some things, of course, couldnt be duplicated: his six-foot frame, muscled without being overdone, and a face that, when you caught him in a moment of repose, was handsome but not pretty. But the Armani suits, leather shoes, French shirts, the close shave and the perfect hair cut with a hint of sideburn trimmed to a point, razored off his neckthat look, a lot of male vamps adopted. If Korzha raked his fingers through his hair, every espresso-colored lock sprang back into place. A bit chilly, it always seemed to her, that kind of perfection. But he had a smile that could heat a person up pretty quick.

Korzha shook his head like he had a bad taste in his mouth. Somewhere in the distance a dog barked. A real dog, not a werewolf. It wasnt me.

Claudia shrugged. Its not like Im a vegetarian myself. But did you have to kill him?

I didnt, he said.

Right. She shook her head. I swear, I dont know why I bother asking. I could have caught you with your teeth in the guys throat and youd be, Officer, Im innocent . She risked a look at the vamp. His face was expressionless, but she saw his tongue come out to wet his lower lip. She hated it when anyonefang, dog or humanthought she was stupid. Youre one of the most freaking notorious vamps in the whole of CrimsonCity, Korzha. A known hitman