“The tube-thingy on the other one broke,” she complained, pointing to the stainless-steel rig sitting on the table next to the alligator. She still clutched her hair in one hand, swaying her hips. “It’s missing a part. We need a new one.”
Michael scowled.
He wanted to yell at her.
He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t fixed the damned thing before they’d started the actual harvesting. Like, say, the twelve hours before they showed up in this part of Queens.
He knew there was no point.
“Fine,” he said. “First thing tomorrow.” His voice turned into a growl. “And you can be the one to tell Molokai why we didn’t hit our quota.”
She looked at him, her eyes widening, her full lip jutting in a pout.
The expression was probably meant to be coy, even flirtatious, but it just made Michael want to punch her in the face.
Turning away, he walked to the entrance of the walk-in cold storage unit.
Yanking on the door release, he leaned into it, pulling open the heavy metal door with an effort. Steam plumed out of the opening as he swung it open. Michael was forced to wait for it to clear slightly before he could make out any of the shapes inside.
After a pause, he called out to the woman behind him.
“Seven,” he corrected her. “You have seven in here. You forgot about the cop. That Midnight from the club—”
“Oh.” Her voice remained indifferent. “Yeah. Seven.”
Michael bit his lip, refraining from calling her an idiot outright.
Junkies, his mind muttered. Goddamned junkies. All the same.
His eyes never left the inventory.
Grabbing the shoulders of the Asian-looking cop, who looked the heaviest, he yanked on the leather jacket he wore with a grunt, dragging him out of the freezer unit, muscles straining. He could barely move him at first, even with how much Michael trained for this very work.
It got easier when he got some momentum on the slick floor.
“Is Felix still outside?” Michael said, out of breath. He let the muscular vampire drop to the floor once he got him clear of the door. Swinging the metal panel shut, he shoved it until the latch clicked, frowning when she still hadn’t answered him.
“Melissa!” he snapped. “Felix. Is he still out there? I don’t think the two of us are going to be able to get this one up on the table by ourselves.”
Melissa blinked, turning.
Then she walked over to where Michael stood.
“Ooh,” she said, smiling. “This one’s cute.”
“You said that about the last six,” Michael muttered.
“But this one’s really cute,” she said, undaunted. “What’s his name?”
Michael fought not to roll his eyes.
“What difference does it make? He’s a walking corpse. Like the rest of them.”
“Is he wearing an I.D.? He’s a cop, right? Don’t they have badges?”
Giving in to her, he exhaled. Crouching down, he went through the pockets of the cop’s heavy coat. Finding a flat, old-school style leather wallet in one pocket, he frowned.
“Still uses cash,” he muttered. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re dead a few hundred years, but still walking around.”
He rifled through the wallet until he found a shimmering, gold and green, I.S.F.-issued ident card. He frowned down at it, reading the front of it.
“Naoko,” he read in a mutter. “What kind of name is that?”
He glanced up at the woman, but she shrugged, holding up her hands.
“Is that all it says?”
“Pretty much.” Michael frowned, staring at the ident-card, still squatting down by the unconscious vampire. “Naoko Tanaka Midnight. I.S.F.-cleared. Security level four. Says he’s in homicide.”
“Homicide?” She frowned, leaning down to take the card from Michael’s fingers, swiping it right out of his grip and making him scowl. “Not vice? What was he doing down here?”
Michael grunted, glancing down at the vampire’s face.
“What do you think, Melissa?” he said flatly. “He was probably feeding.” Frowning slightly, he added, “That, or he was looking for us. Assuming he was on duty.”
She frowned. “What do you mean?”
He gave her an even flatter look. At her blank stare, he glanced at the mostly-drained vampire on the stainless-steel table above, then returned his gaze to her.
“What do you think?” he said drily. “You notice any vampires leaving here, when we’re done with them? Did you think no one would notice, Melissa? Ever? With us harvesting a few times a month?”
She blinked at him, confusion on her face.
Her eyes darted to the alligator on the second table, and she frowned.
“You can’t kill a vampire,” she said, speaking as though the very idea was abhorrent. “They’re not alive.”
Michael shrugged, agreeing with her for maybe the first time that night.
“No argument here,” he said. “But the law says different, honey.”
She continued to frown, as if offended by the whole idea.
Again, he didn’t really disagree with her.
Just then, the beeper went off overhead, signaling that the vampire on the table was finished. Both of them turned, staring at it.
Then Michael rose smoothly to his feet, motioning at the alligator.
“Well?” he prompted, snapping his fingers and motioning at it a second time when she didn’t move. “You said you wanted to do it, right?”
Looking at him, then at the alligator, she broke out in a grin.
The smile was so childlike, it would have been infectious if it wasn’t on the face of a thirty-something woman who happened to be addicted to raw vampire venom.
Dance-walking to the second table, she scooped up the alligator by the smooth, black handle, bringing it back to the vampire strapped to the stainless-steel. The vampire’s bare chest didn’t move, which was strange with its eyes open, staring up at them. It looked like it was trying to speak, but it couldn’t through the paralytic they’d given it.
Still, it was trying.
An hour ago, it wouldn’t have been able to do that.
“Hurry up,” Michael urged. “He’s coming out of it.”
She nodded seriously, lips pursed.
Michael watched as she positioned the pole above where the creature’s heart was located—which happened to be the same place they lived on a human. The creature looked strangely veiny and thin, having been robbed of most of its blood. He’d been nearly the size of the cop at his feet when they started, if about three inches shorter.
Flipping open the back end of the pole, the woman glanced at Michael, as if asking permission, or maybe just checking she was doing it right.
“Go on,” he said, nodding. “That’s right. The thing has sensors. It’ll grab the right part.”
Nodding solemnly, she looked back down at the vampire’s body.
Then, firming her jaw as if bracing herself, she hit the button at the end.
The device leapt into life.
It darted out, fast as a striking snake.
Michael watched, fascinated in spite of himself as those razor-sharp teeth ripped into the thing’s chest. It moved as if completely without obstruction—sliding through bone, skin and muscle as if all were made of soft butter. It slid in, clamped down over the thing’s heart, then retracted in a single, smooth pull—bringing the heart out with it.
The whole operation took about three seconds.
The vampire on the table tensed—
Then it slumped.
Michael barely noticed its muscles had tensed until they relaxed, all at once.
The eyes—those clear, glass-like, ice-like eyes—immediately grew milky.
Michael swore he could see the demon leaving their bodies at each undead monster they deprived of its heart. He glanced at Melissa, who alternated between grinning with delight and grimacing at the sight of the bla
ckened, dripping heart.
“Hey. Hurry up. Dump it,” he reminded her. “The bin’s over there.”
She jumped a little, then nodded. He watched her walk the organ gingerly over to a big outdoor garbage can, holding the heart and alligator away from her body.
Hitting a second button on the side of the alligator pole, she watched the device dump the heart in the trash with a dull thump.
“Okay,” Michael said, exhaling. It was always a relief to see one of these things go. “I’m going to get Felix. Wash that thing off. Then see if you can start getting his clothes off so we can get him hooked up.”
She gave Michael another pouty look, wrinkling her nose.
Seeing her look from him to the alligator, which was still dripping with the black, grossly viscous vampire blood, he let out a humorless grunt.
“Too late to complain now,” he said. “You wanted to be the one to do it, darling. Washing off the alligator is part of the job. Get it done. Now.”
He checked his watch again, already heading for the door leading out to the garage.
“If we hurry, we should have time to get through the rest of these.”
She nodded, but continued to wrinkle her nose as she brought the semi-organic device over to the dark green, industrial-sized sink.
Pushing through the door to the garage, Michael smiled to himself as he headed for the van, where Felix was probably either taking a nap, smoking, or playing a game in virtual.
Every soul Michael helped free was another step towards redemption.
Melissa might do it for the venom.
Felix might do it for the money.
Michael had his own reasons, and he suspected his brought him a lot more genuine happiness than Melissa’s or Felix’s brought them.
Michael did it for the betterment of the world.
He did it for every human whose body had been robbed from its soul by one of these blood-sucking demons.
He did it for every human being that used to be.
He did it for the human race.
He did it for God Himself, who made them in his image.
1 / Two Days Earlier
NICK EXHALED IN FRUSTRATION.
He was already annoyed, although not with his friend.
Well, only marginally with his friend.
Okay, maybe he was a little annoyed with his friend.
“I thought I was back on duty this week,” he grumbled. “You said three weeks. Then four weeks. It’s going on five fucking weeks, Jordan—”
“Are you seriously whining about this?” Detective Damon Jordon frowned at him through the virtual monitor. “Really, Midnight? You want to go there?”
“You try being locked up in a government-owned apartment for over a month,” Nick grunted. “When you don’t fucking sleep. When you’ve watched probably every movie that’s ever been made… including the really really bad ones. When you’re read six books every twenty-four-hour period for the past three weeks and you’ve actually run out of things you want to read—”
“Not my problem, Tanaka.” The handsome black man visible on the monitor shook his head, jutting his jaw. “As for books, ask Charlie. I hear she’s got a wicked vampire porn collection.”
“Hundred bucks says I’ve read most of it already,” Nick grumbled.
Jordan laughed, as if in spite of himself.
“TMI, Tanaka… T-M-I…”
“Look,” Nick said. “Just ask him. I’m not talking about going out clubbing. It’s surfing for fuck’s sake. No one goes down there. No one. I’ll go in the middle of the night, if he wants. I’ll go whatever time of day he wants…”
Jordan let out a sigh.
It sounded long-suffering, which made Nick’s teeth clench more.
Then again, this might be the hundredth time they’d had this conversation over the course of the last month and a week.
“No,” Jordan said, the tiredness reaching his voice. “No, Midnight. And hell no. There are media drones all over the damned city, including down by the buffer doors. There was also some mention about you surfing in at least one article I saw—”
Nick swore under his breath.
Jordan talked over him.
“—just one of those damned things tags you with facial-rec software, and it’ll set off alarms every reporter in the New York Protected Area will hear—”
“Like bats,” Nick muttered.
“I was going to say dogs… but yeah. And then what? They’ll be waiting for you outside the force field gates with full media crews. And we look like assholes, since we’ve been telling them you’re in ‘rehabilitation’ to appease the anti-vampire activists—”
“You mispronounced ‘racists,’” Nick muttered.
“Whatever,” Jordan said, annoyed. “Just suck it up, okay? Or we really will send you in for some fucking attitude-adjustment.”
“Is that supposed to be funny?”
“No. Not really.” Jordan sighed, pursing his lips before he gave Nick an almost-apologetic look. “But it wasn’t a threat, either. I just never know how to shut you up when you get like this, Tanaka—”
Nick started to speak, but Jordan cut him off.
“—Look, save your breath. My hands are tied. They really are. We’re doing the best we can for you. I swear, we are. Morley is. I am. We’re just trying to keep people from overreacting, all right? We can fix paranoia about rogue vampires overnight.”
Nick fell silent.
He wanted to tell Jordan whatever it was they were doing, it wasn’t enough.
He wanted to tell the other male he was losing his fucking mind, being locked up in here, caged like an animal. He wanted to tell him vampires didn’t do well in captivity, even if it was well-meaning captivity.
He honestly wasn’t even sure if he was exaggerating at this point.
He needed to get the fuck out of here.
One night.
Part of one night, even.
Six hours. Long enough to clear his head.
“Look.” Jordan sighed, obviously picking up on Nick’s agitation. “You’re the one who went off half-cocked. You’re the one who left in the middle of an I.S.F. interrogation when you were under investigation by internal affairs. You have no one to blame but yourself—”
“I caught the little psychopath, didn’t I?” Nick growled.
“Luck,” Jordan said. “By all rights, you should have gotten your head torn off.”
There was a silence.
Then both of them laughed.
“Fuck you,” Nick said, shaking his head and smiling in spite of himself.
“You’re not my type,” Jordan shot back. “But I could send Charlie over for you… if you’re really that bored.”
Nick didn’t answer.
When the silence stretched past where he probably should have answered, Jordan laughed.
“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about it? I thought she wasn’t your type?” Jordan’s voice lowered to a mutter even as he rolled his eyes. “…although how that fine woman could not be anyone’s type is completely beyond me. It kind of makes me wonder if you’re gay, Midnight. Or blind. Or into something really weird I don’t really want to know anything about…”
Nick felt his jaw clench.
Then, after a beat where he questioned how they’d gotten onto this subject in the first place, he shook his head, staring into the dark monitor.
“If you’re that into her, you should go for it, Damon.”
“I thought we were talking about you, Midnight.”
Nick fought a scowl. He tried to decide what to say that would get Jordan off this topic, or at least off Nick himself.
Unfortunately, the other detective took his silence the wrong way.
“Jesus. You are thinking about it.”
“No.” Nick shook his head, adamant. “I’m really not.”
“Bullshit, man. You’d be an idiot not to think about it… ‘type’ or no. I see how she gets around you. She’s another
vampire groupie. You’ve got to at least be tempted. Especially when you’re stuck indoors.”
“I’m really not,” Nick said. “…Tempted. At all.”
“You sure? I’m telling you, she’d go over there in a heartbeat. Unless you’re already got a woman squirreled away.”
Nick didn’t answer that fast enough, either.
He hesitated, and that time, Jordan heard it.
“Jesus. That’s it, isn’t it?” Jordan whistled. “How did I not see it?”
Nick was already shaking his head. “No,” he said.
“You’ve got a girlfriend.”
“No. I don’t.”
Jordan laughed aloud.
“No wonder you’re climbing the fucking walls. Why doesn’t she come visit you, Tanaka? Are you worried about the media getting wind of her, if she started showing up at your place every night?”
Nick shook his head, although not really in a no. Scowling, he fought for a good answer to Jordan’s teasing.
He didn’t have one.
“Who is it?” Jordan said. “Is it one of your blood connections from I.S.F.? Or someone you met out in the honest-to-goodness real world?”
Nick scowled. “I don’t date I.S.F. feeds.”
“So real world, then?”
Nick felt his jaw harden more.
“Just drop it, Damon.”
“Naw. You’ve got me curious now.”
The other man’s voice grew cajoling. Nick saw the virtual version of Jordan lean back in his chair, propping his booted feet on something hard and metallic, probably his desk in the bullpen at the police precinct.
“…Just tell me who it is,” Jordan wheedled. “Who’s the real reason you don’t want me sending Charlie over there in a leather corset and negligee, carrying a bottle of champagne and a big box of vampire porn?”
Nick exhaled in frustration.
“Look. I just don’t date people I work with, okay? I don’t date I.S.F. feeds. I prefer to… compartmentalize.” Scowling at the other’s laugh, he added, “Why don’t you invite Charlie to your place in that negligee you’ve obviously spent way too much time thinking about?”
Damon laughed. “Fine, fine. But you’re getting some action there, right? You have I.S.F. feeds coming over, right? Actual people, I mean?”
Vampire Detective Midnight Page 31
