Rusted Veins: A Sabina Kane Novella by Jaye Wells Read Free Book Online Page B

blood-junky ass felt like a play date in the middle of a shit storm.
    “Okay, here’s the deal. I’m going to try this the polite way first,” I said. Giguhl snorted. Ignoring him, I continued. “If they don’t cooperate, we go with Plan B.”
    “Which is?” Adam said through the speaker.
    “Crack some skulls.”
    “Sounds like my kind of plan.”
    With that, Giguhl and I made our way across the street. It was late by mortal standards, nearing two in the morning. But I could see dim lights from near the back of the house. As we neared the rickety front steps, I could also hear the occasional bark of laughter or the impact of glass shattering. A radio somewhere deep inside the structure played grating music—the kind preferred by people whose senses were so numbed out by drugs they needed to be overwhelmed to feel anything.
    Giguhl shifted on my shoulder, his claws digging into my clavicles. “I have a bad feeling about this joint, Red.”
    “Drug dens are rarely happy places, G.” I rapped my knuckles on the door, putting a little English on it so it would be heard over the racket of the music. After a few moments of pounding, the door flew open.
    I stepped back as the odor of urine, vomit, and unwashed bodies blasted me in the face. The vampire who stood before me looked like Iggy Pop, only with faded red hair. The bad hair life wasn’t due to needing a salon visit. Instead, the effect of the drugs he was getting from the humans he fed from was leeching all the color from his body. If he’d been human, it would have sucked all the life from him, too, but I wasn’t really sure that was worse than an eternity of addiction.
    “What the fuck do you want?” he demanded. His lips were ashy and chapped, and his fangs were gray.
    “Hi there,” I said in my most chipper voice. “The Reverend around?”
    He squinted at me, noting the cat on my shoulder. “You the fuzz?”
    I tilted my head and smiled. “Any policeman you know walk around with a bald cat?”
    He sucked on his rotten teeth. “I thought I might be seein’ things.”
    “Understandable.” I waved a hand. “But no. I’m not a cop. The Rev?”
    “He ain’t here.” He started to slam the door, but I caught it.
    With a tight smile, I held the door open. “Then maybe you know my friend Cadence? She’s about yay big.” I mimed a height slightly shorter than mine. “With brown hair and blue eyes.”
    He smacked his pale lips in disgust before yelling over his shoulder. “Yo, is there a Cadence here?”
    A faint voice carried down the stairs. Female. Cadence? I’d never met her, so I didn’t recognize the voice, but then I could barely even make out the words. But apparently the drugs hadn’t hurt Iggy’s hearing.
    “Who wants to know?” he echoed the shouted question.
    “Sabina,” I said with patience.
    Iggy screamed my name up the stairs. A few seconds later, he cocked his head to listen. Then, with a resolute nod, he slammed the door in my face.
    “Well, that’s that, then,” I said. I spoke into the walkie-talkie. “We’re a go. In three…two…”
    Bam!  I kicked in the door with my heel. Luckily I’d traded my stiletto boots for the more practical, low-heeled variety or the move might have broken my ankle.
    I expected a flurry of reaction—bodies flying, screams, the usual. Instead, Giguhl and I barreled into the foyer and found it totally empty. With my gun drawn, I rushed toward the back of the house. Here and there, vampires lay on the floor like blinking, languid cats in pools of sunshine. Only it was nighttime, the pools were yellow but definitely not caused by the sun, and something stronger than catnip had those dudes tweaking.
    I’d often wondered why vampire drug addicts didn’t cut out the middle man and just insert the drug of choice directly into their own veins or lungs or whatever. But I guess something about the narcotics mixed with blood made the effects stronger. Regardless, a vampire junky is just