Kiss of the Vampire(22)

“No.” She sighed. “The first murder just happened yesterday, and there were lots of people we had to see. Maldonado was on my list, but not at the top.” Her yawn came through loud and clear. Mostly loud. “What time do you want to go see him?”

“You know what? Never mind. I’ll go see him by myself.”

“No! I’d like to go with you.” She yawned again. “Just tell me when.”

“I’ll pick you up at five thirty. That should give us plenty of time to still meet MacMillan at seven.”

“Okay,” Nix said sleepily before hanging up sans a good-bye.

Tobias grinned and disconnected the call. He was happy to have that moment to talk to her and hoped she could get back to sleep. A sleepy Nix was a cranky Nix, and she was bad-tempered enough just being around him.

On his way out of the apartment he paused by the desk at the edge of the living room. He was surprised to not find a computer anywhere in the apartment. He took a closer look at the desk and saw there was a dead spot that didn’t have as much dust on it as the rest of the desk. The dead space was the size of a laptop, yet there was no laptop in the place. Had Rinda taken it somewhere? Or had someone else been here and removed it to conceal whatever evidence it might contain?

A couple of books on astronomy sat at one edge of the desk, and some scribbled notes on the top page of a yellow legal pad. He flipped through the pages, again, still seeing nothing of interest. With one finger he traced along the handwriting. Rinda had learned to write some time back in the Middle Ages, taught by a kindly monk who was ahead of the times when it came to educating those of the female persuasion. Plus she was, had been, relentless when she wanted something.

Unfortunately, in most cases as soon as she got what she wanted she became bored and ready to move on. When first turned, he’d felt the same way as she. Neither one of them had been able to invest their hearts in a relationship. That is…until he’d met Nix. Things had always been different with her.

Tobias swayed, caught off guard by a wave of light-headedness. Between being focused on leads to find Natchook, the person responsible for murdering his leader, traveling back to Scottsdale from Fairbanks, and jumping right into this case, he hadn’t fed in close to four days. Before he did anything else, he needed sustenance.

Twenty minutes later, he leaned one hip against his kitchen counter as he waited for the microwave to complete its cycle. While blood drawn fresh from a willing victim was always the optimal choice of nourishment, this was an acceptable second best. The anticoagulant it was treated with gave the blood a slight piquant bouquet. Drinking any more than a pint was gluttonous; it didn’t take much to provide appropriate nourishment. All in all, this wasn’t a bad substitute.

At least, that’s what he told himself. But truthfully, once he’d had Nix there was nothing else that could compare. So in his travels he’d taken blood from various blood banks or the wrist of an occasional willing donor. Now he made do with blood provided by an entrepreneurial college student who was making a lot of money with his home delivery service. Rather like the milkmen of fifty years ago, the young man had lined up donors and made deliveries once a week, leaving the sealed glass bottles in insulated coolers on his customers’ doorsteps. Some vampires merely took off the caps and drank the blood directly from the bottle. Tobias didn’t care for his meals cold, so when he could he poured the blood into a coffee mug and heated it up to body temperature or above.

The microwave dinged. He pulled out the ceramic mug and brought it to his lips. The first sip singed his tongue, a pain that quickly faded as the liquid nourishment slid down his throat. As it hit his stomach and was quickly absorbed by his system, he closed his eyes to savor the feel of his body warming, his heart picking up a dull beat, the tingle along the tips of his fingers and toes.

He’d much rather take blood from Nix. God, he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed her until he’d seen her again. No, that wasn’t quite true. He hadn’t let himself dwell on how much he’d missed her, that pixie face, the stubborn way she’d tilt her chin when she got mad at him, the fire in her eyes when they made love. Not that he was going to get back with her. She needed more than he could give her. She needed humanity, something he no longer had, to help her keep her own in charge. When they’d been together all those years before, he’d become more and more concerned at how less and less she’d been able to control her demon tendencies. Finally he’d walked away for her own good.

He’d seen tonight how well she’d maintained her control. Perhaps partly because she was on the job, but he hoped mainly because she’d matured a bit and had found something that worked. Or it could be as simple as the fact that she wasn’t routinely shtupping a vampire.