Blood at Dawn: Dark Ink Tattoo - Book 5 (Paperback)

Jack: You would think that rescuing my boss and helping deliver her happily-ever-after would earn me a few points with Karma, or at least a couple nights off, but luck has never been on my side. I’ve got to make my own way in this new reality: my Mistress is dead, but Maya needs help fighting off other vampire gangs, a sacred warrior is after me for my part in their partner’s death, I’ve got a bloodslave following me like a pup, Francesca is breathing down my neck, the Dark Ink staff are in revolt, and the perpetual temptation of Zach is right next door. Oh, and Paco’s going to become a vampire in three nights. I guess no good deed goes unpunished. Especially when you’re already dead.

I woke up in my coffin with Paco’s hair tickling my cheek.

Waking up in the same coffin as my currently dead best friend and lover was awkward—and it would only get worse when in three days he woke up too. I hadn’t gotten a chance to ask his permission before turning him into a vampire. It’d been that or watch him die, and I’d acted without thinking. I knew he’d wake up hungry—I could only hope he wouldn’t wake up mad.

I kissed the back of his neck and rose up to Sugar’s meowing. “I know, I know, I hear you.” I swung one leg over the partition that kept the sleeping dead like me safe from tiny carnivores like her. She wound through my legs on my way to the kitchen. “I know,” I repeated, pouring out a bowl of food. “It must be scary when I die every morning, huh? You must wish you had opposable thumbs.” She purred while she ate, a sound that was charming even if it wasn’t melodious. I was leaning down to scratch her behind her ears when the door rang.

I tensed. Who was left in town that knew where I lived? I’d already made plans via text with the Dark Ink Tattoo crew to meet tonight. Angela and Mark were gone by now, Paco was in my bedroom already, and Zach and Nikki I’d both slept with last night. Nikki had left a bra behind as an excuse to come back, but I was sure she had pride, she would bide her time before calling for it. Zach, however, lived in my apartment complex—and had gotten used to getting lucky. He was also the only one of my recent lovers who didn’t know I was a vampire—needed to cut him loose for his own safety. The doorbell rang again, followed by an impatient knock.

“Look,” I said, swinging the door open, ready to say something drastic. But it wasn’t Zach, it was a woman, the same one who’d brought me the news of Paco’s torture last night. “You,” I said, letting my voice fall.

“Me,” she said, giving me a nervous smile. “I’m Luna. And you’re—”

“Angry,” I cut her off.

She fidgeted, clearly nervous. “May I come in?”

“No.” I stepped back into my apartment and closed the door.

* * *

I showered and pulled on the most business appropriate clothing I had, a white t-shirt, a blue button down with a crisp collar, jeans that were a solid deep blue, and black cowboy boots. Paco would’ve been proud of me if he were currently alive, he was by far the more dapper of the two of us. I slicked my hair back and tried my best to give the bathroom mirror a business face. It was hard. I was used to doing whatever the hell I wanted to, which included not taking work very seriously.

But that was changing tonight. Before Angela had left she’d given me Dark Ink Tattoo—Las Vegas’s only 24/7 tattoo parlor. It was the perfect cover for a vampire who could feed on sex or blood: I loved doing tattoos, I got to work nights, and the clientele was often interested in seeing the non-tattoo side of me after hours. Being the giving sort, I did my best to never leave anyone disappointed. But if I wanted to keep it going I needed to step up—which meant facing eight to twelve probably pissed off tattoo artists shortly.

They’d been out of work ever since Angela had closed up shop a few days ago to deal with her werewolf problems. I’d helped her survive and we’d consummated years of mutual lust in one glorious night. But she was gone now, leaving me with an emptiness that was different from my normal hunger. I didn’t have many long-term people in my life—being a vampire was, in general, too dangerous. And while being with Angela had been magnificent—and I would never forget the taste of her blood—I knew I'd only just started missing her. She'd been a rare constant presence in my life, such as it was. Someone who trusted me, and in whom I could trust. An actual friend.

I couldn’t begrudge her her new life though. She had a son—and a far more appropriate human boyfriend, Mark. They were probably halfway across the globe now, which was where they belonged, having a normal life.

I, on the other hand, was abnormal—and I’d made Paco match me.

I fought the urge to return to my bedroom and look at him again. I loved him too, in my own way—I always had, ever since he’d first come onto me in that crowded club, after our first desperate fuck. He’d been my first time with another man. And if he left me after this like Angela had—I couldn’t bear to think about it now, my eternity stretching on alone, with no one who truly knew me at my side. The thought of it was too frightening—and I needed to go back to Dark Ink now and try acting like a boss.

I grabbed my wallet and the keys to a truck loaned to me from the werewolf pack, made sure the lid was closed on the coffin for Paco’s safety, then emerged out my front door—to find that same girl still waiting.

“Hi!” she said, her face brightening. “I’m pledged to you. As a bloodslave.”

I looked around to make sure no one else in the complex could hear. “I don’t need you,” I harshly whispered. “And I don’t want you.”

Her face crumpled. She was very gothy, long black hair with straight bangs and oval ice-blue eyes, like a cat’s. She’d been in some sort of dress last night, but today she was in black leggings, clunky boots, and a low-cut black t-shirt so tight I could tell she wasn’t wearing a bra. A small backpack was slung over her shoulders. “I only have a few hours left.”

I pulled my door shut behind me and locked it, ignoring her.

“I just need you to say yes,” she went on, following me out to my truck, making me regret the distance to it in the parking lot. “Please. I have to serve someone. I can’t be unowned.”

I unlocked the door to the truck and sat inside, closing it resolutely on her.

“What’re you going to do when he wakes up, huh?” she shouted at my window. How did she know about Paco? Had Maya told her?

She ran around to stand in front of the truck. “Don’t make me go back to Maya—please.”

“Get the hell out of the way,” I said, knowing that even with my windows up she could see my lips and read the look on my face.

“You’re going to have to drive over me!” She put both hands on the hood, flashing her cleavage as her chest heaved with intent. “I’m dead if I go back to her.” I revved the engine and she started to shout over it. “Bloodslaves can only be free for twenty-four hours! I’ve only got five hours left to find a new Master to claim me, and we both know if you were going to kill me you would’ve done it already!”

I wrung the steering wheel. At least it was dark out. An unknown to me neighbor walked by, neck craning back at our scene. I tried to keep a low profile on principle, and hoped that anyone else seeing this would write it off as LARPing or kinky roleplay. And I hoped to hell Zach wasn’t looking out of his window, I didn’t need anything else to explain to him.

“Come on!” she shouted at full volume, lunging into the car hard enough to make it shake. I leaned over and unlocked the passenger door.

“Get in.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she said, settling herself beside me, swinging her backpack beneath the dashboard.

“Who’s to say I’m not taking you out to the desert to snack on?”

“Rosalie promised me you weren’t like that, last night.” When Rosalie had sent her over here to tell me Paco was in danger. Maya and I had murdered our Mistress, and now we were free. 

“Yeah, well, Rosalie’s dead,” I said, gruffly. The girl looked down and put her hands between her knees. “Sorry?” I guessed. I wasn’t, really, but I didn’t know what else to say.

“I know why you had to do it. Not that that makes it okay.”

“She started things, if it makes you feel better,” I said. “Where should I take you?”

“What?” She sounded genuinely surprised.

“I’m not in the market for a bloodslave.”

“But—you should be. You need one. All vampires do.”

“I’ve been fine so far.” I shrugged a shoulder. I’d only found out about the existence of bloodslaves recently—when I’d run from Rosalie after my making, I’d had to find my own paths to blood and sex. Luckily, I lived in Las Vegas. If I played my cards right, I could practically get both delivered.

“But!” she sputtered.

“Yeah, so—here?” I ignored her. “Downtown?” I gestured at the strip malls we passed by.

She turned to face me fully, eyes expressive. “But if you don’t claim me, then Maya will.” Her eyeliner was perfect, winged out wide. “Would you want to serve Maya?”

“Not particularly. But I also don’t want to own a slave. Apart from the ethical considerations, it seems like a lot of responsibility.”

She wriggled in her chair. Certain parts of me suddenly woke to watch her—just as other parts of me were annoyed at them for waking. I’d feasted last night on sex with Zach and Nikki both—why couldn’t my hunger just leave me be? “Maybe—you could just pretend you own me?” she asked.

I’d been driving to Dark Ink Tattoo out of habit. I couldn’t drive past it—I needed to get myself together, to pull my Jack Stone tattoo-artist-extraordinaire and vampire-businessman persona on. “I don’t owe you anything.”

“I know. But—you wouldn’t want to know what Maya would do to me—she hates me.”

“That’s not my problem,” I growled.

“Please,” she begged. She caught my hand as I put the truck in park. “I am willing to do anything.” Her voice was breathless, full of promises. Honestly, everything about her was my type—except for the coercion. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, far stronger than even her being the messenger of Paco’s demise. I’d been taken advantage of once and I’d be damned—even more damned—if I was ever going to ‘own’ anyone.

I pulled forty dollars out of my wallet. “Take this, and walk that direction for five miles.” I pointed past her shoulder.

“And?”

“Don’t come back.”

Her face crumpled and she started to cry. “Maya will kill me.” Fat tears rolled down her cheeks, taking her eyeliner with them.

“That’s not my problem,” I repeated.

Her lips pouted, no doubt holding back curses, as she snatched the twenties from my hand—then crumpled them up and threw them at my feet. “Screw you, Jack!” she said, storming from the truck. I swung out on my own side, watching her go, holding herself with her arms, head low with sorrow—with my vampiric senses, I could still hear her crying and taste the salt of her tears. She whirled around, hair whipping. “I’m going to die—because of your stupid pride!”

Her words hit my hardened heart like a rock. Would Maya really kill her? I wouldn’t put it past her. Maya was kind of a bitch, and being trapped under Rosalie’s thumb for a century or so hadn’t done her any favors. Now that she was free, her taking out her frustration on any other Rosalie-associated targets seemed likely.

The girl, what’d she say her name was—Luna?—was already quarter of a block away. “Get back in the car,” I muttered under my breath, halfway hoping she wouldn’t hear. But she did, she stopped and looked back. “I haven’t changed my mind. Just—stay here.”

“For how long?”

“As long as it takes. Not sure.” I recognized Mattie’s truck in the parking lot—other artists would be arriving shortly, if they hadn’t given up on Dark Ink entirely. I didn’t want them to see her with me and make assumptions about how I’d been spending my time. 

She swallowed and got back into the passenger seat with sullen silence—and I realized she hadn’t taken her backpack with her when she’d left. I’d been played. I ran my hands through my hair—I’d deal with that later. For now—Dark Ink called.