by Ellie J Duck
The layout of the bodies is peculiar, and I can’t help noticing that the styles of kill are all very different. The young woman has simply slid down the wall, as though her attacker lured her there by pressing her into the wall and kissing her neck before taking that lethal bite. She is slumped as though she was simply dropped when she was drained. The first man is sprawled on his side, as though he was grabbed from behind and pushed over when he was dead.
The older woman makes me think that whoever bit her was new to the idea of killing and the layout of the body suggests her killer felt guilt over the murder. The final kill, the man with the torn-out throat, is the most unnerving. I can see the grisly inside of his esophagus and though there was no blood left to seep out, it’s clear his attacker fed on him violently and with fervor. Almost as though the monster enjoyed the feel not only of drinking the victim’s blood but the feel of sinking its fangs into the soft flesh and feeling it give. It is utterly ravaged, and he looks as though he was pushed down when he died. However, the sprawled and uncomfortable looking layout of his legs suggests that he’s been moved post-mortem; perhaps kicked in frustration?
“Agent Cane?” Summers’ voice comes to me as though through a thick fog and I realize I’ve been so focused on the crime scene I’ve not noticed his approach or the dispersal of many of the cops from the scene.
“Sorry, what?” I ask, blinking as I drag my eyes away from the bodies and look up at Greg, only just realizing that I’ve squatted by the victims.
“I said, are you alright?” he asks, frowning a little as he watches me straighten.
“Yes…” I mutter. “I just… Look at this one,” I indicate to the young man, his blond hair askew, his blue eyes open and unseeing. “The thing that did this wasn’t just hungry for blood. The throat has been ripped out, the head nearly torn off. I suspect that when this one died, he was kicked in frustration for not having more blood….”
Summers peers at the victim for a moment.
“I feared as much…” he murmurs.
“But then this one, the older woman, she’s been placed as though her attacker felt guilty for killing her… There had to be at least four of them, and if I had to guess, I’d say these four folks were lured here. The girl against the wall with the promise of a tawdry hook-up, these boys as perhaps her potential saviors if she screamed, or also the victims of sexual delusion. The older woman feels like an unlucky bystander… as though she’s stumbled upon the scene and been grabbed before she could run or call for help,” I continue, unable to keep the words from pouring out of my mouth.
“You seem to be awfully informed on their ideals,” Summers comments and I glance at him. I can tell from his expression that he was expecting me to be more freaked out and far less analytical about the whole scene. It’s in that moment that I realize that for all that he might’ve read my file from school and seen me a few times in the past, he’s been expecting me to be nothing but a rookie. And in some ways, I am. I’m new to the idea of the supernatural but that doesn’t mean I don’t know how a predator thinks; how a psychopath thinks; how monsters operate.
“This isn’t my first crime scene, sir,” I say. “And I’ve probably studied the psychology of such things with more depth than any of the other members on your team. They’re your beasts and you unleash them on whatever needs putting down. That makes sense. They’re fast, they’re strong, they’re smart, and they’ve got that added instinct telling them more than my senses can even pick up. Maybe you brought me in thinking I was just going to be your hired gun, the sniper in the wings watching the team’s back if they get in over their heads, but I have a lot more uses than that.”
“Does Magnus know you’ve studied psychology pertaining to how a monster thinks and how to read a crime scene?” he asks me, looking mildly intrigued now. Through my ear piece I hear what sounds like Mitch give a little chuckle at my speech and a tell-tale snort or derision tells me Hilton’s opinion on the matter, too.
“Since he’s the one who brought me to my first crime scene when I was ten and he’s the one who bought me psychology textbooks on it, I assume he does,” I reply.
Summers nods his head decisively.
“Right. Well then, tell me why they did it here,” he asks, waving a hand to the alley. I glance around.
“It’s a narrow alley that most people wouldn’t enter after dark, giving them a modicum of privacy. It’s also near that bar on the corner. Since the girl was clearly pressed into the wall and then discarded, I’d say she was lured here under the pretense of a hook-up, where her partner was a little kinkier than she expected.”
“I like it when you say the word ‘kinkier’, Cane,” Mitch’s voice comes over the intercom and I roll my eyes.
“You should hear me say ‘harder’,” I respond to the taunt and Tara laughs long and loud. Summers rolls his eyes when Brody gives a low whistle of appreciation over the way I made the word come out all breathy and needy.
“I take it none of you are finding anything out there if you’re all too busy joking around?” Summers asks the team.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Tobias growls suddenly, followed by the sounds of rapid footsteps pounding against the asphalt. “Come here, leech!”
“Oh yeah, we found ‘em!” Tara’s voice comes moments later, her usually peppy tone darkening to a low growl that makes the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Shrieking, which I assume is coming from one of the vampires, can be heard over the intercom, followed by a nasty-sounding squelch.
“Fuck, they’re full as ticks!” Tobias curses. “You better get a clean-up team on this, Greg. I’m three blocks south of you.”
“Oh, you tricky little snot, I’m going to slash you to ribbons,” Tara’s voice overlaps with Hilton’s and the sound of scuffling ensues.
“It’s such a pity cats are so sour,” an unknown male voice, smooth as a glass of fine whiskey, is heard. “Otherwise I’d have you, pretty kitty.”
“Have this!” Tara snarls and a gurgle comes through followed by more squelching sounds that make me think Tara and Tobias both just beheaded vampires with their bare claws.
“I think we’ve probably seen enough for one night, Anna,” Summers says, and I wonder what expression I’m wearing that has him frowning at me again.
“Anna, is it?” a voice seems to whisper from somewhere and I stare wide-eyed at Summers when his hand goes to his gun, making me realize that it didn’t come through the intercom but from somewhere in the night, like a voice on the breeze.
“Anna, the pretty little human, chosen to join the team of slaughterers… What an exciting development. My Mistress will be so pleased to know the beasts now have a little human in their midst.”
Both my guns are drawn, and I turn toward the darkness at the far end of the alley. The cops have swept the area more than once, but I get the feeling that vampires can blend in rather well when they want to. Something that is confirmed when a figure drops to the pavement from somewhere above. I can’t make out more than a silhouette, but I’m already firing at it. The shots echo in the alley and I hear each one thunk into wood or brick, telling me I’ve missed my mark when the bastard vanishes.
The sharp sting on my neck is the only tip off where it disappeared to and another shot rings out from behind me when Summers starts firing too, but his shots miss. My neck begins to burn, and I wipe at it, scowling when my hand comes away bloody.
“Crap!” Summers is cussing, and I can hear the others racing for the alley, their feet hammering like my heartbeat in my ears. “The vamp tagged her!”
Chapter Four
The drive back to the base is quiet. Summers keeps wiping at my neck with something that stings more than the tag the vamp left on me. The others are silent in the back, and beside me, Hilton’s growling softly under his breath. The minute they reached the alley, they all inspected me. Tobias, the first one to stride right up to me, was dripping blood all over the place and had five d
iagonal slashes across his chest through his torn shirt. There was also an awful amount of blood that sprayed out of the beheaded vamp, and it was all over him.
The second he reached me, he grabbed me with those big strong hands of his, one hand on my shoulder and the other pushing my head to the side, revealing the wound on my neck at the join in my shoulder. Of course, things got even weirder when he then leant into me and licked the wound. I won’t lie; I might’ve gasped like a frigid virgin when he did that, and maybe whimpered a little. But it was clear he had no intention of causing either effect because when Brody, Mitch and Tara reached me, they did the same thing. I must admit, I was mildly annoyed when having them do it didn’t elicit the same response as having Tobias do so.
As we race back toward the base, Tobias driving even more recklessly than he did on the way in, dawn breaks and sunlight begins to streak the sky pink. If it wasn’t for the terrible pit of dread in my stomach over the reaction of everyone to the little bite mark on my neck, I’d think it beautiful. Instead, all I can do is sit here, tense, trying to ignore the buzzing of my phone in my pocket and the occasional brush of Tobias’s hand against my thigh when he shifts gears. As we come to the long winding road leading into the forest, he shifts his leg to pin mine to the gearbox again and the simple action tells me everything I need to know about why the team are so quiet and why Summers is beginning to panic beside me.
When I glance in the rear-vision mirror at the trio in the back seat, none of them meet my gaze and Summers has finally stopped fussing at my wound and is now dialing a number, which I’m hoping is for the clean-up crew Hilton mentioned. I doubt my hopes will pay out, since I get the feeling that he’s trying to contact my Dad.
“How bad is it?” I ask, meeting Hilton’s copper eyes in the mirror.
“They can call to you now,” he replies, and I hope he doesn’t notice the way his voice makes me shiver. “Any time you’re not in the base, and they’re in the area, they can link to you telepathically and lure you to them.”
“Get me Agent Cane,” Summers is barking on the phone on my other side.
As I realize the weight of the situation, I do the only thing I can think of, which is to reach over and pluck the phone out of Greg’s hand, hanging it up quickly.
“What are you doing?” he demands, looking annoyed.
“Saving your life,” I answer honestly. “Trust me, the last thing you want to do right now is tell my Dad that I’ve been bitten by a vampire. I can handle this but if you want to keep breathing, you’re not going to let him get wind of this.”
“I can’t just not tell him what’s happened to you, Anna,” Greg protests. “He trusted me to keep you safe!”
“And look at me, sitting here in the car with all of you. Safe and sound unless wolf-boy over here loses control of the car whilst driving like a maniac,” I point out, earning a scowl from Tobias and laughter from the rest of the team.
When my phone starts ringing loudly in my pocket, I jump, and I feel guilty as I pull it out of my pocket. The ring tone currently playing is ‘Hotel California’ by The Eagles; it is the only sound my phone ever makes. Not because it’s broken, but because every other contact in there is set to only vibrate when I get a text or when someone calls. This ringtone, however, is set to blare as loudly as possible because it’s the ringtone for Dad’s calls and I don’t like to miss them.
“Now it makes noise, too?” Hilton grumbles beside me as I hit answer.
“Hey, Dad,” I answer it easily, pasting a smile onto my face and hoping it sounds through my voice. “Twice in one day? You’re spoiling me.”
“What happened?” Dad’s voice is low and gravelly through the speaker on my phone.
“What do you mean?” I ask him, feigning innocence.
“I mean it’s just gone 0600 where you are, and I was woken up by one of my team with a call from Greg that disconnected before I got to it. So, what the hell happened?” he demands, and I level a glare over at Summers for getting me into this mess.
“Nothing happened. Greg’s panicking because I shot one of his team,” I tell him smoothly.
“You shot one of his kids?” Dad asks, sounding mildly concerned now. “Which one?”
“Mitch – the lion,” I reply. “They all kind of surprised me when I was already tense, and things got a little out of hand. It was a lead bullet though, so he sweated it right out and is all better now. Greg’s just being unreasonable.”
“You’d better not be lying to me, baby,” Dad warns, and I make sure to keep my breathing steady and my heart under tight control to make sure it doesn’t give me away by hammering so loudly that everyone can hear it.
“I’d never lie to you, Dad,” I reply with an easy smile.
“Because I buy that?” he answers sarcastically. “Let me talk to Greg for a minute.”
“Summers is a little busy right now, Dad,” I answer, not at all trusting the man beside me not to rat me out.
“You got hurt, didn’t you? I know you, Anna. You try to control every situation by making sure no one can interfere with the version of truth that you’re weaving,” Dad says, seeing through my ploy.
“I didn’t get hurt. I’m fine, scout’s honor,” I reply, making sure to sound cheery so as not to give away the truth or let on about how my shoulder is still stinging.
“Then why is Greg calling me at this hour of the morning?” he asks.
“Greg’s prone to panic from what I’ve seen,” I answer. “Who can say why he’d try to call you only to hang up before even speaking to you?”
Summers shoots me a scowl for that and holds his hand out for the phone. I shake my head and transfer it to my other ear, so he can’t snatch it as easily. He looks like he wants to take it from me and tell Dad everything. I shoot a glare in his direction even as I hold my finger to my lips momentarily, indicating that he should keep quiet. I follow the action by drawing my thumb across my throat, indicating that if he speaks and gives away my secrets, I’ll have to kill him.
“Now I know something’s gone wrong,” Dad’s voice draws my attention from the expression on Summers’ face.
“Nothing’s wrong, Dad. Everything is fine. Greg’s a worry-wart, and that’s all there is to it,” I tell him evenly, pleased when I sound calm and rational, refusing to let the mild panic I’m beginning to feel show through.
“Are you driving?” Dad asks. “I can hear the sound of a car and a lot of people in the background.”
“Yeah, we’re driving home from a hunt. Couple of vampires chowing down on humans. The team caught two of them,” I tell him easily, impressed with how airy I can sound over the whole thing although I saw a vampire for the first time, not to mention getting bitten by one, and witnessed the carnage they can cause.
“And there you go taking it all in your stride as though you are a seasoned veteran rather than having only found out about the supernatural existing yesterday,” Dad says, and I smile when I hear the hint of pride in his voice. “But that doesn’t tell me why Greg’s calling me at this time of morning on the way home from a hunt.”
“Maybe he just wanted to tell you how well I did,” I suggest. “Or maybe he wanted to yell at you for having taken me to crime scenes before now.”
“Probably the second one,” Dad grumbles. “Fusses like a mother hen, that one.”
I laugh, and so does the rest of the team when they hear him say that since the car is silent but for the sound of my conversation.
“Well then, baby, if you’re all good then I’ll let you get some shut eye and call you later, alright?” he suggests, clearly intending to talk to me some more but not wanting to do so with an audience.
“Three times in one day? Now I know you’re spoiling me,” I tease him even though I’m thrilled over the idea of getting to talk to him so often.
“Bit easier to get you on the line now that you ain’t got school every other hour,” he rumbles, and I can hear the embarrassment in his voice over the way I’m teas
ing him.
“Not gonna hear me complaining about it,” I tell him. “I’ll talk to you later, alright? We’re almost there and I need to grab a shower.”
“No worries. Love you, kid,” he says, sounding cheery through the phone line and I can’t keep from smiling. Somehow just talking to him has made me feel better about everything that happened tonight.
“Love you, too,” I reply before I hang up the phone and slip it back into my pocket. Everyone in the car is silent for a few long moments.
“Remind me never to trust you,” Hilton grunts from beside me suddenly and I turn to look at him with raised eyebrows.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, feigning innocence.
“I’ve never seen a human do that before,” Brody comments from behind me and I turn to look at him over my shoulder. Tara and Mitch are also staring at me as though they aren’t entirely sure they can believe their eyes or ears.
“Do what?” I ask, totally confused.
“Lie and get away with it,” Brody tells me.
“And how many humans have you spent time with whilst they lied to you?” I challenge.
“A few, but I always knew they were lying,” Brody replies.
“Would you all quit staring at me?” I demand when they all keep looking at me strangely. “What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal is that we can hear your heartbeat,” Tobias answers and I glance at him again, not at all liking that little nugget of information. “And when people lie, their bodies react. Breathing gets shallow, heart rate picks up, voice hitches. There are tell-tale signs that let us know we’re being lied to. You just lied to your father repeatedly and none of those things happened.”
“Well, don’t I just feel like a walking sign post now?” I grumble crossing my arms in annoyance.
“How did you do it?” Tara asks. “When you told him everything was fine, I almost believed you, except for being able to sit here and see the tag on your neck.”
