Read henri dunn 01 - immortality cure for Free Online

Horrors.
    Now I just had to find a killer, retrieve the stolen vials of the Cure, and find a vampire willing to trade me the Blood for being restored to mortality. How hard could it be?
    I should learn not to ask.

CHAPTER 4
    I woke up around two in the afternoon, relieved that I didn’t have to go to work tonight but dreading trying to solve a murder. I thought about saying fuck it and letting it go. After all, it wasn’t my problem. I hadn’t killed Ray, and if Neha wanted someone on her side, she should have thought of that before she stuck a needle full of poison into my arm.
    But.
    There’s always a goddamn “but.”
    Depending on who’d murdered Ray and why, Neha might be in danger. She didn’t really deserve my help, but I deserved hers, and there was no way she could synthesize an antidote if she was dead. Assuming she was willing to do so, of course. I knew jack shit about the kind of science involved in making potions, drugs, and serums, so it wasn’t like I could check her work. For all I knew, she was trying to create a better, stronger Cure.
    And the killer had taken what she had left of the Cure. Meaning not only did I need to get it back to have any real hope of an antidote, but if I wanted to try and trade some sad sack vampire the Cure in exchange for vampirism, I’d actually need a vial of the Cure to trade.
    I had to track down the killer if I wanted either of those options available to me. And given that Caz had made it pretty clear I didn’t have a ton of friends left among local vampires, and my sire had been MIA since I got a regular heartbeat, I couldn’t afford to close any doors.
    I sighed, got up, and hit the shower.
    Three hours later, I sat at a small wrought-iron table outside of a coffee stand on Broadway, on Capitol Hill, keeping myself under the shade of an umbrella. Too much sun on my skin made me feel itchy, like the spell might break and the sun would blister and burn me at any moment. The warmth of it was simultaneously incredible and terrifying, and I could only take it small doses. Besides, my skin could still burn, like any human’s. More slowly, true, but sunburns weren’t one of the more pleasant aspects of mortality, and I preferred to avoid them. I’d even bought bottles of sunscreen, although I kept forgetting to put it on.
    I sipped my latte and ate a bagel I’d grabbed at a store down the street on my way over, along with a bag of groceries that had taken me a ridiculous amount of time to pick out. At least at restaurants, meals were ready-made and I could just point to something on a menu. Ninety years as a blood-drinking fiend doesn’t teach you how to grocery shop. I’d scoped out the carts of fellow shoppers, but most of them had given me weird looks when they saw me examining the contents of their carts.
    Food was hard. Blood was easy. Sure, it could be a pain in the ass to get, but at least I knew what I was looking for. I could keep bottles of the stuff on hand, too, for emergencies. Older blood isn’t as tasty, but it’s very drinkable. Human appetites are too varied. Too many options. Too much prep work and planning.
    Once I had enough coffee in my system for the synapses in my brain to fire, I tried to come up with a plan of action. I’d never been a detective, but spending nearly a century as a murderous monster had taught me a thing or two about why people killed each other.
    Ray hadn’t had much in the way of a personal life as far as Neha knew. And according to the cop shows I saw on television, drugs were a pretty good motive for murder. Ray made and sold party drugs. Logically, it was probably why he’d been killed. I sent a few messages to Neha, asking for more details about this Alana person who distributed their drugs. She sent me back a description and a place to find her: a nightclub.
    “Of course it’s a nightclub,” I said to myself, standing and gathering my trash from the table. It was only late afternoon. The club would probably