Page 78 of The Vampire Kingpin
“Go to Hades, bitch.”
“Wrong answer.” I dunked her in the toilet bowl, holding her down while I counted—slowly—to ten. Then I pulled her out. “Now,” I said grimly as she came up retching, “what do you know about Jared Darkman?”
She wiped the water from her face. “He’ll kill me,” she whined.
“Yeah?” I pressed her head downward again, stopping just above the water line. “But if you don’t talk, you’ll die right now.”
“No!” She twisted against my grip but couldn’t break free. “I’ll talk, I’ll talk.”
“Smart choice. What did the mask have to do with it?”
“You don’t know? I thought that’s why you aren’t wearing it.”
“Because—?”
“I wove silver thread through it.”
I knit my brows. “I didn’t see any silver.”
“Because I’m good. Those masks make me a lot of money on the Dark Web. Way more than I can make bartending.”
“So why are you working for Jared Darkman?”
“He’s paying a lot of money for you. And I don’t like you.”
I shook my head. “Gods, you’re an ass. What are you going to do when Spider finds out? You’re not gonna live to see any of that money. You’ll be at the bottom of the Hudson River.”
She gave a weird little shrug, like she didn’t care. That’s when it hit me—she’d crafted Spider’s mask, too.
A chill shot down my spine. Silver is a vampire’s Achilles’ heel. Spider was powerful, but silver could still bring him to his knees. Already, it could have entered his bloodstream, weakening him…leaving him vulnerable. I had to warn him.
“You bitch—” I smashed her forehead against the toilet’s porcelain rim, leaving her groaning on the floor, her hand to her bleeding head.
I burst out of the stall just as Velma slammed into the restroom. My gaze shot to hers, my heart drumming in my ears.
“Where’s Spider?” we demanded in unison.
21
Spider
The first wave of dizziness hit me as I passed a large stone wolf with glowing red eyes.
Vampires don’t get sick. Dragging off my tie, I shoved it into my pocket, loosened the first couple of buttons of my shirt, and kept going.
Why in Hades was my mask so uncomfortable? I readjusted the black mesh over my upper face. The rough fabric scraped against my skin. DeeDee’s new design needed serious work.
Two hard-faced vampires closed in, their gleaming eyes cold and unfeeling. They herded me out a side door into a dimly lit corridor. It stretched before me, endless as a nightmare, the flickering lights casting eerie shadows on the walls.
A second wave of dizziness blurred my vision. My stomach heaved, and bile pressed into my throat. I pressed a hand to my mouth and managed not to vomit up the blood-champagne I’d just drunk.
Each step felt like a struggle, the oppressive atmosphere pressing down on me as I fought to stay upright.
A dull nudge from my brain. Silver poisoning.
Had the champagne been spiked with colloidal silver?
And why was my face on fire? I clawed at the mask.
