Midnight Craving: Midnight Vice, Book 1 (5 page)

would be different and unremarkable. Five minutes from now that neighbor peeking out the window

wouldn’t even remember she’d seen two people at all.

The glamour in place, Isla and Jace left the Tahoe and cautiously proceeded toward the house. Eyes

peeled, Isla surveyed the property and then the house. The windows were suspiciously bare of any

coverings and she pointed them out to Jace. “Odd.”

“For a vamp hideout? Definitely.” He frowned as they drew near the open front door. “And so is that.”

Jace shot her a watch-your-ass look before drawing his sidearm containing a clip of specially modified

vampire killing rounds. Isla kept hers holstered, preferring the fireball route, and shadowed him into the

home. The entryway opened into an oversized living area. She’d expected opulent furnishings but found

nothing. The place was empty except for the occasional crushed box or scrap of trash. She had the distinct

feeling the house had been cleared out in a rush.
And what the hell is that smell?

“Sulfur,” Jace said, nose wrinkled. “Demons?”

“Yes.” Isla sniffed subtly. That telltale stink was the calling card of a high-level demon. She recognized

it as the scent of her grandfather, a prince of hell she’d met only once. It wasn’t a smell one ever forgot. But

there was something else in the air. “Ammonia,” she whispered.

“Yeah? I don’t smell anything but rotten eggs.” He eyed the marble staircase. His aura pulsed against

hers as he used his powers to search for others in the house. “We’re alone. I’m heading up. You do the rest

of the downstairs?”

Isla nodded. “Yell if you need me.”

“You do the same.”

With quiet steps, Isla moved through the connected rooms. She approached every closet and doorway

with extreme trepidation. As she cleared each space, she kept energy burning in her palm, ready to strike at

a moment’s notice. The ammonia stench grew heavier toward the rear of the home. It was tainted with other

chemical smells she wasn’t used to breathing. The caustic stench irritated her throat and nasal passages so

badly she threw up her arm and used the thick hoodie fabric as a breathing shield.

In the kitchen doorway Isla coughed and blinked. Her eyes burned and watered. She couldn’t believe

the sight before her. The kitchen had been completely converted to some kind of drug lab. By the looks of

the various empty chemical bottles, she surmised someone had been cooking meth here. Realizing the

danger, she quickly backed away and retreated to the main hallway of the house.

Jace hurried down the stairs. He shot her a concerned glance as she coughed loudly. “What’s wrong?”

“You aren’t going to believe this, but they’re cooking meth back there.”

“
What?
”

“Yes, totally. They’ve got a full lab setup in the kitchen. Stinks to high heaven.”

“Let’s go.” Jace grabbed her arm and hustled her toward the door. “You need medical attention?”

She shook her head. “Just some fresh air.”

Once outside, Jace pulled his cell from his front pocket and started dialing. “We’ve got to get narcotics

out here. This place is a danger to this entire neighborhood.”

“No shit.”

As they hurried back to the Tahoe, Jace alerted narcotics and HazMat. He made sure to request the

Midnight Vice units rather than the regular Houston police and fire teams. With vampires and demons

involved, who knew what kind of drugs they were cooking up in that kitchen.

“Demons. Vamps. Meth,” Jace said as they drove away. “Not what I was expecting to find.”

“Me either. Seems really odd,” Isla added. “Demons have the local drug trade firmly in their pocket.

Renata’s racket is sex and blood, and she and the higher-ups in the Houston demonic circles don’t play well

together.”

“Exactly,” Jace agreed. “That house was cleared out fast so either Renata knew we were coming or the

demons found out about her new side game.”

“Either way it’s not good.”

Isla continued to ponder the various realities behind their discovery as Jace navigated the streets of

Houston toward the next house on their list. Like all the other houses they’d searched, the fifth provided no

useful information. It was abandoned and looked as if it had been for weeks. Even though the dead ends

annoyed her, she found it comforting that there were only two more places Renata could be hiding.

Isla eyed the skyline. Her stomach lurched. Fall sunsets came early. They had only a couple of hours

until Renata would be free to move about the city.

“We’re going to find her.” Jace’s reassuring voice calmed her fears. He looked over and smiled as he

took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I promise.”

“From you that actually means something.”

A strange expression flashed across his features before he returned his attention to the traffic. Still

holding her hand, he spoke softly. “I’m glad to hear that.”

Isla enjoyed the calming sensation of her hand resting in his as they made their way to the seventh

house. The neighborhoods became progressively crummier, the houses more dilapidated and sad. She took

note of all the kids running around in front yards. Involving the public in these supernatural disputes was a

huge no-no. They’d have to be super careful.

“Yeah, I see ’em,” Jace said as if reading her mind. “I doubt we’ll have many, if any, normals around

the house we’re heading to. Notice the fences?”

Strands of garlic and the occasional cross decorated the chain-link fences of the houses they passed.

Most front yards sported shrines to the Virgin of Guadalupe, the ceramic statues dripping with roses and

candles burning in the tiled alcoves. Isla smiled. “Just like my people to be prepared and defensive.”

Jace snorted. “Your people?”

Isla grinned at his teasing tone. “Well, the non-demon half of me is Latina. Daddy’s family boasted a

long line of extremely powerful
brujas
and
curanderos
.”

“Oh, I know.” Jace turned left onto a dead-end street. “I remember your dad’s healing touch rather

well.”

“I always forget you were with Midnight Vice when Daddy was on the squad,” she murmured, fond

thoughts of her father dancing through her mind. Not wanting to get emotional, she quickly changed the

subject. She gave Jace an impish glance. “Damn, you’re
old
!”

“Hey!” Jace protested loudly. “I was maybe twenty when I worked with Inigo.”

“Yeah, like, seventeen years ago.”

Jace tapped the brakes hard enough to make her lurch forward in her seat. He fixed her with a feigned

glare. “Would you like to walk?”

She shrugged. “I’m young. My hips can handle it.”

Shaking his head, Jace grunted and continued driving. “You’re really insufferable sometimes.”

“I try.” Isla winked at him, enjoying their playful banter. The lightened mood was nice and helped

lessen the stress of their surreal situation. Unfortunately, it didn’t last.

“Second house from the end. Yellow trim,” Jace announced.

Isla surveyed the surrounding houses. They were all abandoned, their yards overgrown with brown

grass and weeds. Broken doors hung from hinges. Torn window screens flapped in the wind. “Nothing like

the bad vibe from vampire lowlifes to run off the neighbors.”

“Apparently,” Jace muttered, pulling up to a sidewalk. He put the Tahoe in park and shut off the engine.

His eyes flashed amber. “This place feels wrong to me.”

“I’ll second that.” Isla opened her door. The wind kicked up and buffeted her face. It carried the stink

of demons. She glanced at Jace. “You smell that?”

He nodded, his aura bristling. “I’m having a feeling of déjà vu.”

“Oh, yippee!” Isla’s sarcasm brought a tiny smile to Jace’s face. “You can breach the door. I’ll hang

back.”

“You’re so kind,” Jace grumbled and headed toward the gate. “Keep your eyes open.”

Isla walked backwards as they proceeded down the cracked sidewalk. She had the irksome sensation of

being watched. It didn’t sit well with her. When Jace started up the rickety stairs, she turned around and

stayed an arm’s length behind him, her hand raised defensively, energy tingling at her fingertips. The door

sat slightly ajar in its frame. Murmuring voices could be heard.

Weapon in hand, Jace cast a quick look over his shoulder before kicking in the door and storming

inside. “Hands in the air!”

Jace’s authoritative shout startled Isla as they burst into the rundown house. When he tapped into his

archangel powers like that, accessing the righteous voice of God, it made her head swim. The demon in her

revolted, snarling and snapping and begging for release.

A trio of young men threw themselves on the floor, hands over their heads. She’d never seen subjects

surrender so quickly. When one of the young men looked up, she understood why. His bloodied face

displayed a broken nose and busted lip. Black fluid oozed from the wounds. The smallest hint of a fang

peeked down from his fat upper lip. His irises were pink.

“Baby vamps,” Isla murmured, recognizing the early signs of transformation.

“Look, man,” the scared guy said, “we don’t know anything about the drugs or any woman named

Renata, okay? Your buddies already beat the shit out of us. We don’t know anything. We can’t even

remember how we got here.”

Jace lowered his weapon. “What can you remember?”

“I don’t know. It’s all a blur. Some party in Clear Lake, a really hot girl, and then nothing.”

Isla rolled her eyes. “The guys who beat you up—what did they look like? Did you notice anything

strange about them?”

“Yeah,” one of the others piped up. “They smelled real bad. Like rotten eggs.”

“Want to give them the
CliffsNotes
version while I check the house?” Jace asked, his annoyance with

the baby vamps obvious. She nodded and Jace left.

Isla motioned for the three young guys to get up and take seats. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this.

You’ve been fanged. You’re vampires now. When the sun sets in about an hour, you’re going to get hungry

—ravenous actually. You’ll have the urge to kill. If you do, someone like me is going to hunt you down

and wipe you out. If you’d like to avoid that sticky end, you’ve got one choice. You head to Sister

Marcie’s. She’ll hook you up with some donor blood, walk you through the first few weeks of your

transition, and get you processed and licensed.”

Isla paused to let the information sink into their foggy minds. To their credit, they didn’t freak out like

most newbies usually did. They seemed almost relieved to know what the hell was going on with them.

“So, should I call Sister Marcie or—?” She pointed to the wooden spike at her left hip.

The response was unanimous. “Sister Marcie!”

“Good choice.” She pulled her phone from pocket. Sister Marcie happily agreed to send over a van

ASAP to pick up the newly turned vampires. Isla had just hung up when Jace came back into the living

room. “Well?”

“I found a room full of empty bottles of drain cleaner and acetone cans and God knows what else.”

“So this was a meth lab too.”

“Probably.” Jace gestured to the fidgeting couch-load of vampires. “And them?”

“Sister Marcie’s sending some of her people over right now. They’ll be fine so long as they follow her

—”

An explosion interrupted Isla, throwing her across the room and into Jace. His arms instinctively curled

around her body as he twisted to accept the full brunt of their fall. They bounced on the dingy carpet. After

the initial chaos, Isla and Jace clambered to their feet. She shoved the baby vamps out of the way and

rushed after Jace. “Stay here!”

“They blew up my fucking Tahoe!” Anger roiled beneath Jace’s features. He pulsed with angelic energy,

the waves of fury burning her skin. “Demonic bastards!”

There was no missing the heavy stench of demon. Squealing tires caught her attention. A silver Porsche

disappeared around the corner.
Real subtle.

As the demonic henchmen fled the scene, Isla pried her phone free and called Sister Marcie. There was

no time to lose. “Don’t bother sending the van. You won’t be able to get through. I’m bringing them to you

right now.”

Jace looked at her with surprise. “You’re what?”

“Hold tight. I’ll be right back.” Isla marched into the house, grabbed two of the vamps’ shirts in one

hand and the third in the other and skipped them from the house to the entryway of Sister Marcie’s

downtown vampire shelter. It took a whole hell of a lot of energy to move four bodies all the way across

Houston. Sister Marcie waited in the entryway of her shelter and smiled welcomingly to the newest

members of her support family. As the guys collapsed and dry heaved, Isla shot an apologetic frown Sister

Marcie’s way. “Sorry I can’t stay.”

“I know. I heard it over the scanner.” Sister Marcie monitored police scanners to anticipate need of her