Club Nexus (Ivy Granger, Psychic Detective) Read Free Page A

laughed.
    Adrenaline fading, I hung limply in the arms of the vampire
who’d grabbed hold of me.  Licking my lips, I looked up into the frenzied face
of the vampire.  The creature latched onto my neck, sinking his fangs into my
jugular, but I no longer cared.
    “I did as you asked, my queen,” I rasped.
    My vision dimmed to a tiny point of light and my body felt
pleasantly cold.  I relaxed, a smile still on my lips.  I’d served my queen and
been granted my own wish.  No more tending bar in a sweaty nightclub.  No
further decades of servitude to the almighty Puck, who was now dying alongside
me in this moldering, old wine cellar.
    I was free.
     
     
     
DUSTED
     
    T he first rule
of Bite Club is there are no rules .  The lack of restrictions is what
makes our soirees so dang irresistible.  Bite Club is an all you can eat buffet
of blood and wonton pleasure.  But like all good things, Bite Club comes in
small doses.
    If vampires bit and drained everything in sight on a regular
basis, we’d be hunted, staked, and burned to ash never to rise again.  I tugged
at the brim of my hat, which sat catawampus from a burst of speed, and made my
way down the spiral staircase toward the bar.
    I’m not a rogue—I can play by the rules—but immortality is a
long, long lifetime and I’d found that Bite Club helped its members cope with
the boredom and frustrations of eternal life beneath Vampire Law.
    The vampire council mandates that all new fledglings adhere
to their laws, or perish.  What our masters don’t bother to tell us is that
even after decades of following the rules to the letter, the restrictions do
not lift.  And after half a century, the laws regarding how one must conduct a
hunt had begun to chafe.
    Vampire Law states that feeding must be done discreetly. 
Blood slaves, humans who give their blood willingly, are encouraged—so long as
we only make slaves of those unfortunate souls whom human society has already
forsaken.  We feed off the fringe of humanity—the homeless, addicts,
runaways—those who are unlikely to be missed or whose disappearance can easily
be explained away.  But this forced discretion scraped against my true nature
like a wooden stake against my heart.  Vampires are predators, not scavenging
birds meant to swoop in and pick at the garbage that humans cast aside.
    I am no trash pickin’ gull.  I am a vampire.
    When I was first turned, I left the familiar bayous of my
hometown seeking freedom.  I had hoped that a change of scenery and putting
distance between me and my master would alleviate the feeling of suffocation
that plagued my new existence.  Who would have known the undead led such a
repressed life after death?
    Inching my way north, I’d found my salvation in a dockside
tavern outside Boston.  I’d met a man, much like this Puck I was to meet with tonight,
who organized a special club for vampires who wanted a taste of excitement—and blood.
    I was indoctrinated into Bite Club, a no fangs barred
gathering of vampires who, like me, chafed at the rules that bound our daily
lives.  At one of our meetings, humans could be purchased and, so long as we
were within the confines of the designated location, we could do what we wanted
with them.  Some meetings were in places suitable for hunting games while
others were in more comfortable settings for sating hunger for something other
than blood.
    But no matter what, the venue had always changed.  That was
why I got so excited when I learned of this place.  Following rumors from other
members, I was led to a city where Bite Club was hosted not once, but many
times at a place called Club Nexus.  The meetings were behind closed doors,
down in the club’s wine cellars, but I didn’t mind the crypt-like setting if it
meant I could have my fun without interruption.  Puck made sure that only well
vetted members were allowed admittance, so there was no risk of punishment from
the Vampire Council.
    I smiled, the skin