Blood Debt (Judah Black Novels Book 2) by E.A. Copen

at her, blinked once and then explained, “If she’s a stripper, she can dance. You wouldn’t believe how hard a decent dancer is to find.”
    “Sorry, Doc.”
    He sucked in a deep breath and his shoulders slumped forward. “I suppose it can’t be helped. You said something about black veins?”
    “Thought you said all you heard was zombie stripper before you dropped the phone and ran?” Doctor Kalma pointed out.
    “Yes, well…” He pushed his thick, black rimmed glasses up his nose. “I may have listened a little further.”
    I gestured to the door behind me. The three of us went back into the morgue, Doctor Kalma leading the way and me bringing up the rear. In the time it took Doc to get there, Doctor Kalma and I had cleaned up the mess. And by that, I mean I let the trained professional handle all the body parts while I changed into a spare set of nursing scrubs and washed my face and arms off in a sink. Jane’s body was now the only one out, displayed on a table. Doc stopped to wash his hands in the same sink I’d used before slapping on a pair of extra-large rubber gloves and a facial mask. Then, he went over to the table.
    “Oh, rats.”
    I leaned in closer, thinking he’d noticed something on the body I had missed. “What?”
    “I know her.”
    “What?” I uncrossed my arms.
    “Oh, Annie…” he shook his head. “Annie Cox. At least, that’s how she billed herself at Aisling.”
    My jaw was practically on the floor. “I didn’t figure you for the clubbing type, Doc.”
    “I make house calls,” he explained quickly after clearing his throat. “Few doctors do these days, just like not so many take cash. I only know her as a patient.”
    “What were you treating her for?”
    Doc’s mouth opened and closed. Then, he lifted his chin a little. “If I don’t tell you, you’ll get a warrant, won’t you?”
    I crossed my arms. “Are you going to make me, Doc?”
    He turned back to the body, a deep frown set on his face. “Anxiety and depression. She’d been having anxiety attacks. For a public performer, that kind of thing can be debilitating.”
    “What about the black veins?” I asked, pointing to them. “Ever seen those before?”
    Doc poked at them with a gloved finger. My stomach turned as the black veins rolled under the surface of Annie’s skin. “No,” he said, his voice taking on a curious air. “Never. I’d like to draw some samples and take them back to the lab for some tests.”
    “Poke, prod, and sample away,” I said, glancing down at my watch. “I’m late for a very important date. Keep me in the loop?”
    Doc gave a grunt in reply. He was already absorbed in poking at his new project. Oy, scientists. And I thought vampires were creepy.
    *****
    Twenty minutes late for my meeting, I pulled my beat up old Firebird up to the massive wooden gate at the end of a polished sandstone driveway and whistled. Lowering my head and pulling off my sunglasses, it was hard not to be impressed. The wooden gate was over two stories tall. It connected to a white washed wall topped with wrought iron tips, each one sharp enough to draw blood. It wasn’t razor wire but it sure as hell was pretty discouraging. I mean that in the most literal way possible. It was literally pretty and discouraging to any would-be prowlers. The remote security cameras moving to focus on my face and license plates were overkill.
    As soon as I pulled my car up to the gates to idle, the engine coughed, sputtered and died. I cursed and tried to start her up again. A dead car wasn’t too out of the ordinary for me. She was a classic but she was always breaking down only to start fine the next day. Sometimes, a few choice words were enough to get her up and going again. This time she was going to have to cool off. The temp needle was all the way up at the top of the red bar.
    The giant redwood gates opened inward on a gently curving private road of white sandstone lined on either side by stubby palm trees.