Page 22 of Death Raiser

“Wait,” I said. Maybe Gregor had some information I wasn’t privy to. “Is he?”

Gregor hummed and didn’t answer right away.

“Gregor?”

He sighed. “We don’t know. It’s one of the many possible explanations for his origin and existence. Maybe he is. Maybe he isn’t. Or maybe he’s a little of everything.”

“He has fangs.”

“A lot of things have fangs, Ms. Morgan,” Gregor said. “Did he have the book?”

Now it was my turn to sigh. Prickling unease crept along my spine. It seemed like a lifetime ago I’d unwittingly helped take the infamous Book of the Dead to the veil. Gregor had helped me return to the living realm, and once he learned what had been in my possession, he’d become interested. Very interested.

The Book of the Dead had been known as the Book of Life at one time and was rumoured to hold the key to freeing vampires from their nightly constraints.

“He didn’t have the book on him,” I said.

“Do you know where he keeps it?”

“Of course not! Nor do I intend to find out.” I spotted my house keys in the abyss of my purse and snatched them before the vortex sucked them back up again.

“You’ve made your position on the matter clear,” Gregor said. “Please forgive me for attempting to gather information on a matter of great importance and personal significance.”

“Oh, stop it,” Estelle hissed somewhere in the background on Gregor’s side of the line. “Hand the phone over.”

“Chouchou,” Gregor pleaded, but he must’ve relented because the next person to speak into the phone was Estelle.

Estelle Beaumont was Gregor’s human servant. Gorgeous, and somehow, despite being surrounded by scary, powerful vampires who took themselves very seriously, she was nice. Friendly, even. I’d appreciated her empathy when Gregor had brought me to his home and I was unsure of my fate. We’d gone out for coffee a couple of times since then—not enough for me to consider her a friend, but enough for me to know I wanted her as one.

“Enough of this business talk,” Estelle said. “I’ve been dying to get out of this viper den. Do you have plans for the rest of the evening?”

Well, I’d planned to sleep for the next decade, but I’d change my plans for a chance to hang out with Estelle. “What do you have in mind?”

Chapter Seven

The heavy bass made my heart feel like it tried to punch through my rib cage. A throng of people writhed on the dance floor, swaying, and gyrating to the beat and attempting to hump each other with their clothes on.

Spiral had an interesting layout. Booths lined the entirety of one wall and a long bar lined the opposite side. A large square shaped dance floor took up the bulk of the club. A DJ with spiky blue and green hair did her thing on a raised stage at the end of the room. Stairs to the left of the stage led to bathrooms downstairs and stairs to the right led to a second floor where Grant Malone, the owner of the club had his office, security room, and wrap around balcony that surrounded the entirety of the dance floor.

I’d danced with Kang on that floor. My body heated from the memory. Dancing with the grumpy detective had been powerful enough to tell me four things—we had chemistry, he could move exceptionally well, he wanted me, and I wanted him.

I’d probably wanted him for years, but that dance had smacked my face with the truth. What I’d mistaken for irritation and loathing was something deeper and scarier, something that made my chest tighten and my heart flutter.

All those years of angsty hatred hid the deeply repressed need to feel that man moving his body with mine.

“Why did you choose this place?” I yelled over the music. I needed to get my mind off Kang. No one wanted to hang out with a sucker daydreaming about someone else.

Estelle had gotten us into the popular club, bypassing the long line outside, and secured a private booth, but it was still hard to have a conversation. Two of Gregor’s vampires stood guard, watching the club, and deterring anyone ignorant enough to try to approach the Master Vampire of Victoria’s human servant and personal necromancer.

Not that anyone outside Gregor’s inner circle knew I worked for him and hopefully, no one ever did—I’d lose my day job and contract work with the VicPD didn’t cover rent on its own.

I didn’t know one of the guards—a tall woman with a sharp gaze and a perpetually serious expression plastered on her face—but the other was Pierre Deveau, the first vampire I’d raised for Gregor. Despite Pierre wearing modern day clothes, like the expensive suit he had on right now, he still looked like he should be in a ballroom dancing with Marie Antoinette, not at a modern club with scantily clad drabs rubbing against each other.

He had brown hair that fell in soft waves past his shoulders and honey-coloured eyes that softened whenever his gaze met mine. Maybe I just had a soft spot for the first vampire I’d raised, but I felt connected to Pierre. Gregor had never revealed how long the newly risen vampire had been in the ground, his soul lost in the veil, nor did he elaborate why Pierre was so special to be chosen out of all the vampires on Gregor’s estate.

Whatever the case, Pierre had greeted me with a wide smile and treated me like a queen alongside Estelle.

“Are you kidding me? Why wouldn’t I pick this place?” Estelle yelled over her martini glass. With her tight curls pulled back into a chic twisty bun thing, and naturally striking face, she made this place classier with her presence, even with the leather miniskirt and matching bustier. “Spiral is the hottest club right now.”

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