"Whoa. I've never heard a whisper of that! Vampires can reproduce?"
"In rare circumstances."
"How rare?"
"A human woman with the just-right blood type, and more than that, the right genes."
"How do you find such a rarity?"
"Assuming you want to, endless taste tests, my dear Miss Street."
I wanted to swallow, hard. Is that why his fang had scraped my lip? Gathering a bit of blood type?
He leaned closer, smelling my fear. "Yes, you taste especially sweet, Miss Delilah, like your cocktail. But I'd have to have more to give you a true assessment."
I felt my pulse jump just then, knowing that was the worst way to let a vampire sense me. This sure wasn't some wannabe anchorman bloodsucker. Sansouci was the real deal and he enjoyed seeing my skittish nerves as a sign of his power.
His green eyes snapped with wicked amusement as he leaned back again, watching my chest with two-edged interest as I fought to even out my breathing. "But we don't hunger to reproduce that way. It's time-consuming and awkward and entails sacrifices on the part of both human and vampire. We prefer to choose our recruits full-grown. That's another major difference between vampires and werewolves."
Did that mean that vampires avoided sex? He didn't act like he did.
He went on. "In the Old World model, both breeds agree that humans are prey. That is natural. It's also natural that vampires and werewolves compete over human prey. Vampires like to draw out our feeding, letting our victims linger, savoring the meal, like spiders. Werewolves must gorge on prey over their few feral days of moon-full, killing and devouring like berserkers. If we blend bloodlines, we could have vampires who kill their prey before sufficient blood is drained."
"Can you drain the dead?"
"It's not as physically and psychologically satisfying. And once it stills, blood rapidly loses its flavor and sparkle. As for werewolves, if they were to hoard their kills, they could neglect to finish killing and devouring before they turn human again."
"Messy."
"Messy. It would forever destroy the natural balance of supernatural life and death and stir humans to unite and hunt us all down."
"Poppycock! Talk about a worst-case scenario. You sound like a global warming campaigner or a social scientist. Vampires have bitten werewolves. I know that. I've seen the half-weres here; have even been attacked by them."
"War is one thing. Love is another."
"I didn't know that vampires and werewolves could love."
"Anything can love. And anyone can be destroyed by it. Witness your petitioner in the mirror. What can you do for her, except feel pity?"
"You might be surprised." I was getting angry. The supernaturals were as hidebound in this town as the humans. Still, I'd found a fount of knowledge and was determined to drink him dry. Excuse the expression.
He didn't seem surprised that I could see the dead in mirrors. I suppose that was a minor human talent these post-Millennium Revelation days.
"You do have some tricks, for a human," he admitted. "I don't know how you broke into Cicereau's office twice or how you managed to sandbag me once. It won't happen again."
"I know," I answered. "I was just lucky."
"And lucky that Haskell is such a loser that even a crime boss like Cicereau hates his half-were guts."
"Maybe you couldn't help Loretta way back then, but you helped me plenty."
"What did I do?"
"Nothing." I lifted my cocktail glass and waited for him to chime rims, projecting my most appealing girly vibes. "That was a big help."
He nodded and toasted my admission. He could have tipped Cicereau off about my ability to break and enter, but he didn't. That also left him on shaky ground if he wanted to squeal on me to Cicereau now.
"Tell me about being a daylight vampire. Does a guy like you get to rock around the clock? When do you eat, drink?"
"You looking for a dinner date?"
"Maybe."
Sansouci had spilled as many guts as he was going to this session, I figured. I might as well find out how personally dangerous he was.
He leaned back. "You still have a little blood on your lip."
"How careless of me." I pulled out the tiny, mirrored lipstick case that fit so well into one of the police belt's pockets, then dabbed at my lower lip with the tip of my little finger. It burned.
I checked Sansouci. He was sitting back looking stoic, but intent. I imagined he'd looked like this when he had witnessed the "preview" of my enforced Gehenna "act" with Madrigal.
I'd been magically suspended in air, nude, with a huge boa constrictor twining my legs and torso to hide the naughty bits. Madrigal had bent down as if to kiss me and instead extracted a ruby-jeweled apple from my mouth. Decadent remnants of Eve and Eden and the serpent and apple would certainly appeal more to a long-lived vampire like Sansouci than the werewolf nation.
I opened my tiny Lip Venom bottle, tilted it upside down on my fingertip, and dabbed it over my lower lip, painting on a stinging, sparkly swath of juicy cherry red over my nicked skin.
"Nice," he said. "I can smell the spices from here. They mix well with your blood type and natural female-in-heat scent."
My pulse raced again. The trouble with trying to seduce someone just a little is you can seduce yourself a lot. I'd assumed werewolves and vampires would have extra-sensitive senses of smell. I didn't know it was this keen until he'd told me.
"So how do you get your blood suppers? You're not into butchered animal byproducts-?"
"Shut your mouth! I have a harem." He sounded satisfied and smug, like a man trying to impress a new girl.
Okay. I could feel myself looking shocked. But that didn't ruin the moment. If anything, it got him explaining more.
"A daylight vampire has twenty-four hours to feed. No need to drain any single…source… to death. Just a shallow bite, a few minutes or hours of slow, sweet sucking and fucking and I'm good to go until the next assignation. No one loses anything but time."
"They must come to you, since you're on call with Cicereau."
"Sure. You want I should pencil you in?"
"I'm not a serial supper."
"For you, I've got time for a six-course meal with a selection of appetizers and desserts."
Girl! Irma was frantic. You have got to let me loose in this town. You don't want to be the six-course buffet, let me at it!
"Still can't hide the fact that it's a one-way street, Sansouci. They give and you take."
"I give too," he said.
I chose not to examine that claim. "Thanks for explaining a few things." It's always good policy to appreciate a source.