Free Eveillez: Deny Your Blood Lust by CD Hussey

were never displayed though, and the painted versions were distorted enough she was no longer recognizable.
    For two hours he went though photo after photo and once again came up empty. He shoved the mouse away and rubbed his fatigued eyes. Shit, he needed sleep. Or coffee.
    This was turning out to be one of the more frustrating cases he'd worked in a while. Not to mention weird. He needed a name. A name or a body. Preferably both. And he wasn't going to give up until he found one or the other.
    A cup of stale coffee in hand, he returned to his desk. Expanding the ages from fourteen to twenty-seven, the steady "click-click" of his mouse as he sifted through photo after photo like a drip on a leaking faucet.
    His eyelids began to sag. He forced them to lift. Chugging down coffee sludge, he kept clicking until his finger ached. He knew he needed to sleep. He knew he shouldn't ignore his body's desperate cry for rest, but he couldn't stop clicking. Lackadaisical was one thing he had never been accused of being.
    Just like his father, who'd kept chasing down a suspect while in the middle of a heart attack. If he'd stopped for five minutes to call for help, he'd probably still be alive. Instead, they found his body crumpled on top of the handcuffed suspect.
    He felt his head droop and jerked it up. The images on the screen were beginning to merge together, faces became fuzzy blobs. And names? Forget it. They were one blended, blurry mess.
    He laid his head on the table and closed his eyes. A few hours of sleep, and he'd be back at it. Driving was out of the question when he was this exhausted. He'd pushed it once and ended up falling asleep and smashing into a tree.
    Of course it wasn't the worst thing that had happened because he fell asleep when he shouldn't. At least then the only victims were his nose and car.
    His last thoughts before drifting off were of Angel. Would that blond bombshell have any answers? Would she share them? He found himself smiling at the thought of seeing her again and immediately reprimanded himself for doing so. It didn't matter how attractive he found her, she was a person of interest. Any feelings she stirred in him needed to be squelched and fast.
     
    * * * *
     
    Darus couldn't get out of the police station fast enough, lighting a cigarette before he hit the sidewalk. He needed a drink after that nonsense. And double strength deodorant. Sitting in the interrogation room made him sweat like a fucking pig.
    He felt a little guilty for turning his fellow Vamps over to the cops. But he had a feeling it was the only reason he was still in his own clothes and not an orange jumpsuit. Besides, they shouldn't have anything to hide. He hadn't lied about the participants in Lohr's funhouse games being willing. Shit, they were usually eager beavers. Being willing wasn't the problem, being a Victim was. Eve had been more than willing.
    He'd smoked his cigarette down to the filter, so he lit another one.
    He couldn't believe the detective was a Sang. What a mind fuck that had been. He would've never noticed if the cop hadn't said something. Someone must've called him on it. Had to be Lohr. Or maybe Angel. Shit, or both. Those two were always trying to root out fellow Vamps. With completely different motives. Angel tried to enlighten her fellow Sang, encouraging them to be Zen and share good energy and such. Lohr wanted an army of Vamps calling him Master or Father, and praising him for his Vampire awesomeness.
    For a long time, he'd followed Lohr. The parties were better. The drugs were better. There was more blood. Now he wished he'd hopped on Angel's train. No drugs and less blood, but at least the girls were flexible.
    He was down to the filter again and standing at the sidewalk looking down the alley to Luxure . For some crazy reason, he couldn't get his feet to move.
    He could do this. He could walk into the bar. His Family was in there. His friends. Waiting. All he had to do was walk.
    The soles of his