patience?
"Have you heard of the Coeur de Sade?"
"No."
"Then I'll explain later. Give me names. Now," I said. "I have a situation on my hands, and don't have time to play your stupid little mind game."
"All right," he said begrudgingly. "But it better be a damned good explanation."
Gabe gave me five names, but only one address. He didn't have the others' addresses on the top of his head. He would have to look at his address book, at home. At least it was something.
"Thanks, Gabe. I owe you," I said, and snapped the phone closed before he could answer. He was a lecher and a pervert. If given five seconds he would let me know in explicit detail just what he expected in return. I glanced at the dash clock. "One twenty-two. I have a few hours before sunrise."
I headed for Deep Ellum and the Black Rose.
At that time of night the roads were pretty clear. I roared down Loop 635, called LBJ. When I reached the High Fives, a fancy name for a really big clover leaf at the intersection of LBJ and Central Expressway, I turned south and headed toward downtown and Deep Ellum.
Deep Ellum was an old warehouse district that the young and hip turned into their club district way back before my parents were of age to go there. It was only a few blocks, but packed in an awful lot of variety. Sometime in the nineties the vampires moved in. Or maybe they just stopped hiding and had always been there.
There were only half a dozen openly vampire clubs. Technically the club were mostly presented to the world as Goth clubs, or something even more over the edge into kink. Suffice to say the average soccer mom wouldn't have been seen dead in one of them. There were other vampire clubs scattered around the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, but not in the same concentration as in Deep Ellum.
Even that late, on a Sunday night Deep Ellum was rocking. The sidewalks were packed with young adults. Freaks, geeks, Goths, and kinksters all intermingled, most in college or not long out. I was almost out of Deep Ellum before I found a parking place.
Before long I was striding up to the front door of the Black Rose. The Black Rose looked the same as last time I paid a visit, back on September seventeenth, that began my path down into undead glory. Had it only been three weeks? Seemed like a lifetime.
Once again I was striding down the street, stiletto heels clacking and heads turning. I wasn't dressed as provocatively as last time, but tight jeans and thigh boots got most people's attention. Even the two doormen at the entrance took notice. One was a vampire. Both were six feet plus, shaved bald and burly. They wore tight black t-shirts and black trousers, with headsets keeping them in constant communication with their grim brethren inside.
"Hello, boys," I said. "Got a minute?"
"No," the vampire said, giving me the once over and not really looking that impressed. The mortal was more impressed, but hiding it outwardly. But I could smell his interest. "Go inside, or leave."
I ignored his rudeness.
"I'm here to investigate the apparent suicide of a vampire at the end of last night," I said. "Were either of you working when it happened?"
"Who are you? Why should we answer your questions?" vampire boy said.
"Me? I'm Sable," I said. "You should answer my questions because I'm trying to help. I'm trying to stop the killings."
"Talk to management."
"I will, but first I want to speak with eyewitnesses," I
"Have you heard of the Coeur de Sade?"
"No."
"Then I'll explain later. Give me names. Now," I said. "I have a situation on my hands, and don't have time to play your stupid little mind game."
"All right," he said begrudgingly. "But it better be a damned good explanation."
Gabe gave me five names, but only one address. He didn't have the others' addresses on the top of his head. He would have to look at his address book, at home. At least it was something.
"Thanks, Gabe. I owe you," I said, and snapped the phone closed before he could answer. He was a lecher and a pervert. If given five seconds he would let me know in explicit detail just what he expected in return. I glanced at the dash clock. "One twenty-two. I have a few hours before sunrise."
I headed for Deep Ellum and the Black Rose.
At that time of night the roads were pretty clear. I roared down Loop 635, called LBJ. When I reached the High Fives, a fancy name for a really big clover leaf at the intersection of LBJ and Central Expressway, I turned south and headed toward downtown and Deep Ellum.
Deep Ellum was an old warehouse district that the young and hip turned into their club district way back before my parents were of age to go there. It was only a few blocks, but packed in an awful lot of variety. Sometime in the nineties the vampires moved in. Or maybe they just stopped hiding and had always been there.
There were only half a dozen openly vampire clubs. Technically the club were mostly presented to the world as Goth clubs, or something even more over the edge into kink. Suffice to say the average soccer mom wouldn't have been seen dead in one of them. There were other vampire clubs scattered around the Dallas/Fort Worth Metroplex, but not in the same concentration as in Deep Ellum.
Even that late, on a Sunday night Deep Ellum was rocking. The sidewalks were packed with young adults. Freaks, geeks, Goths, and kinksters all intermingled, most in college or not long out. I was almost out of Deep Ellum before I found a parking place.
Before long I was striding up to the front door of the Black Rose. The Black Rose looked the same as last time I paid a visit, back on September seventeenth, that began my path down into undead glory. Had it only been three weeks? Seemed like a lifetime.
Once again I was striding down the street, stiletto heels clacking and heads turning. I wasn't dressed as provocatively as last time, but tight jeans and thigh boots got most people's attention. Even the two doormen at the entrance took notice. One was a vampire. Both were six feet plus, shaved bald and burly. They wore tight black t-shirts and black trousers, with headsets keeping them in constant communication with their grim brethren inside.
"Hello, boys," I said. "Got a minute?"
"No," the vampire said, giving me the once over and not really looking that impressed. The mortal was more impressed, but hiding it outwardly. But I could smell his interest. "Go inside, or leave."
I ignored his rudeness.
"I'm here to investigate the apparent suicide of a vampire at the end of last night," I said. "Were either of you working when it happened?"
"Who are you? Why should we answer your questions?" vampire boy said.
"Me? I'm Sable," I said. "You should answer my questions because I'm trying to help. I'm trying to stop the killings."
"Talk to management."
"I will, but first I want to speak with eyewitnesses," I
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