See Chapter 1 below chapter 2.
Chapter 2
Crowley and I were on our way to a crime-scene when I worked up the nerve to ask him something that had been on my mind all morning and most of the afternoon.
“What do you know about the Vampire King?” He swerved a little, the car beeping annoyingly to get his attention. He recovered and gave me a smile.
“You sure aren’t like typical women, no small talk for you?”
“Why aren’t we using the Autopilot? No one drives manually these days,” I commented, feeling a little dizzy from the swerving. Imagine it, a half-vampire supe-cop getting car sick. Pathetic.
“Why are you asking about these things? You know it’s dangerous to even talk about him, they say he hears everything.” The big were-bear actually seemed to stifle a shiver.
“Crowley, those are just stories you tell children to contain their curiosity over the Vampires, I need some actual info. I got a request in writing for me to meet him tonight.” He nearly swerved again, but the smile never left his face.
“Alexa,” he never used my first name, so I knew I was in for a lecture. The bear was living up to his protective tendency. “I don’t know if you should get mixed up in their whole society. I mean I don’t want to sound hypocritical, but that is a rough crowd.” I sat there and listened, biting my tongue the whole time. He sensed my weariness over the lecture and answered, “I don’t know much. Hell it seems like you know more about were-creatures and the supernatural community than the lot of us do. But I do know that he is revered. But reverence like that must have come with a high cost. I would watch my mouth, and just be polite. You are smart enough not to ask for any favors, and that’s about the worst of it.”
Vampires were famous for the price their favors cost the recipients. I heard of a woman – one of those friend of a friend stories, you know the ones – that had asked for the help of the Vampires to find a missing child, in exchange she was supposedly made to be a blood slave. That was a life-long sentence. I contemplated this as we pulled up to the address of the call, an apartment complex. The car announced our arrival to the destination and went through the standard briefing. This area was classified area 3. The air a little thinner and certain toxins more prevalent. These things didn’t affect me, but Crowley clipped on a breathing apparatus onto his collar of the flak jacket. He took three puffs, the standard for area 3, then we got out of the car.
Carmine was already on the scene. It was a mystery as to how he always arrived on the scene first. He was talking rather heatedly with an officer on the outer edge of the crime scene tape. Crowley and I decided to see what was up and headed over. The sun was setting by this time, but the bulk of it was masked by the smog, and the wind blew with a vengeance. It would be getting cold soon. Everything looked dead and in shades of brown, as though the world was an old photograph that had faded to sepia. I flashed on an old memory of my mother’s garden, the colors were so vibrant; flowers were rare now. It looked as though the world had lost its will to live.
“Officer,” I interrupted, “I’m Senior Detective Mason, this is detective Crowley, and detective Jacobson, what seem to be the problem here?” He seemed flustered but stood his ground.
“I was told not to allow anyone through to the crime scene, and Ma’am where is your breather?” He said stubbornly, he couldn’t see my eyes and thought I was human.
“We’re not just anyone, we’re the Supe Squad. We were called onto this scene because it was suspected to be of supernatural origin. Who is your supervising officer?” I said standing my ground. He looked down at me like I was amusing, tiny little thing trying to be tough. I felt my pulse rise and imagined myself tearing out his throat, the flesh ripping away in a fresh spurt of warm delicious blood. The thought was so violently abrupt and tempting it brought a gasp from me and I swayed from another dizzy spell. Carmine touched my shoulder gently, I was shaking, turning away from him suddenly, shrugging off the hand. Crowley looked worried, but I gave him a smile. The image had been so vivid. I could almost taste the blood, the warmth of it comforting. What was happening to me?
“Yes ma’am, well why don’t you go back to your car, grab your breather and we’ll get this sorted out.” ‘We’ll’ get this sorted out, he said, meaning the men. That really pissed me off. I turned around and heard a growling sound, before I realized it was coming from me. I clutched my throat and the poor kid turned pale from the sound. Carmine was looking at me intently, and everything was at a stand-still, until the kid officer’s radio went off.
~Static~ “Whats going on out there Bradley? Over.” ~Static~
He clutched the radio and replied back with a break in his voice from fear. “There are some detectives down here from the Super, ahem, Supe Squad. Over”
~Static~”Well send them up Bradley, we don’t have all night. Over~Static~ He didn’t look too happy about the request, but raised the crime tape for us to walk under.
“Damn, Mason, what the hell is wrong with you today?” Crowley said as we walked up to the entrance. I was about to cuss him out when I walked under the overhang from the building, but was suddenly overwhelmed by a feeling of menace, blackness seemed to claim my vision in another dizzy spell. There was power here trying to keep us out, so much so, that everything started to spin and I lost all consciousness.
I woke up with Carmine smiling a condescending smile. I was still laying on the dusty ground, but he must have caught me because I was cradled in his lap. I pushed away violently, but the headache made me stay in the sitting position. I reached up and found that my nose was bleeding a little, I tilted my head back.
“You okay?” Carmine said huskily. Not looking directly at my face. Blood was always tempting to Vampires. Even if the old ones could control the blood-lust more than a newbie, they tried to refrain from testing the waters.
“Did you feel that?” I said wearily looking over at Carmine. He kept silent, just rose to examine the threshold of the walkway.
“I did, what is that?” My partner said overhearing and leaning down to hear my answer.
“Some sort of barrier…” I said unsure. Looking at the walls and ceiling for a sign. “Wait, someone find me a blacklight, I think I have an idea.” Crowley ran off inside to search for one as Carmine helped me to my feet. He still wouldn’t look at me. “How long was I out?”
“A minute or two,” He said quietly. The natural light was fading fast and the street lights came on one by one as we waited. I brushed my fingers across the wall in the corner and felt a smaller version of the dizziness earlier. I leaned against the wall trying to right myself again. Crowley dashed back to us holding a black light, and a few officers followed him curiously. I grabbed the light and flicked it on, putting it close to where I had touched. The light illuminated a bright intricate design of some sort. Everyone was silent as I searched the rest of the area, shining the light on the ceiling was the biggest design, right where I had collapsed. Everyone turned to look at me with interest.
“Better call Markus, he’ll know what these designs are.” I said handing Crowley back the black light. He took out his phone, and dialed the wizard’s cell.
“And this has bearing on the crime how?” One of the bystanding officers asked with genuine interest. I didn’t take offense.
“Carmine, how many bodies do you smell?” He looked surprised at my questioning.
“6 new, near to us, perhaps the second floor. 2 old bodies further, guessing the basement.” He said his head tilted up, breathing in deep. The second part of the statement seemed to be a surprise to the officers, because the one questioning me ordered two to go check the basement area for more victims. I knew the minute his sense of smell lost focus and accidentally caught the lingering blood from my nose because that violet gaze suddenly locked on me. The intensity of it made my stomach clench, and not just from fear, but from excitement. I quickly regained my composure.
“You see, officer, we know what we are doing, call it a gut feeling, the meaning behind this massacre is in these symbols.”
“I see. Detective Mason, I’m Sergeant Mathus. Would you care to walk me through the crime scene upstairs, I’m afraid we must have missed something then, the bodies are in peculiar positions.”
“Lead the way Sergeant, Detective Jacobson, you stay here, question any witnesses.” The relief on Carmine’s face was apparent. I guessed that he hadn’t fed yet today by his reaction to my bloody nose, and his relief asserted my feelings. Blood of any type, be it a paper cut, or a lost limb is hell on a Vampire’s control.
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