[Draven's Crossing 1] Hidden Diversions

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[Draven's Crossing 1] Hidden Diversions Page 10

by Selena Illyria


  Urban chuckled. “The man is probably salivating and chomping at the bit to track down the paper and everything. Go do what you have to do. I’ll send her assistant to go get her clothes and stuff and hold down the fort here. See you when you get home.”

  Torger grinned and left. Things were finally looking up for him all around. By the time he got back to his office, the place was practically buzzing with activity. Jagger was waving a report like it was a victory flag, and there were detectives vying for his attention with information. Looks like the killer had finally tripped up. He grinned as he moved to his office with his new entourage in tow. The first person to grab his attention was Jagger. As soon as Torger sat down behind his desk, the vampire shoved his way to the front waving a piece of paper out in front of him. “Got the blood results from the ME.” His shit eater’s grin scared the crap out of Torger as he was also flashing fang as well. Torger had never seen him smile before. It was so fucking creepy that he felt as if he should cover up his neck and any exposed skin just in case.

  “And?” Torger demanded as he tried to mask his discomfort.

  “Blood type matches the last victim found at L and C and it’s also the same blood type on file as well as the first vic. He’s checking into the other victims in the case but we have something.” Jagger slammed down the report and strode out of the room, head held high like a king or conqueror. Torger could only shake his head and read over the report before taking more information from the detectives around him. Detective Santa Rosa gave the next update. “Abbott says the victims did stop into his shop but that he didn’t see who they left with and that the security feed has been recorded over; it’s a twenty-four hour cycle. We’re checking into the surrounding shops and hotels again to see if we can get more information.”

  “Thanks, keep up the good work. Check back with Abbott again. Maybe his staff has seen something. The guy’s an institution for the vacationers. He’s their first stop in the city once they leave their hotels. Someone had to have seen something.”

  “Will do.” Santa Rosa left him with other Detectives demanding his attention. By the time they were all done he had more information to go on. The stationary had been discovered to be special order, with only one shop carrying it. The customer list was limited, but they had them combing their database to find who had ordered in the last three months. The leads were starting to flesh out but it wasn’t fast enough, in Torger’s opinion. They still needed to figure out a way to keep people safe and give the Council and Evanson enough meat to keep them off their backs. Stationary and blood types weren’t going to be enough. They would mock their findings and ask if they wanted tourists with those blood types to not come to the city at all. Besides that, there was the Tourist Board lead to pursue. Those contests weren’t running themselves and there were no updates from Urban on that front. Not that Torger blamed his brother. He had other things to do, namely taking care of Isy. Once the report was done, he went to Draven’s office to touch base with him.

  Draven was in a more jubilant state of mind than the last few weeks. He was practically beaming at him. “So, what are the updates? I knew you’d find something.”

  Torger resisted the urge to shake his head. Of course he was happy now that they had leads. Torger gave him the rundown of what they had and how they were proceeding. Draven nodded but said nothing until he was done.

  “Okay, great. We have a start, a real start. And I can see your concerns loud and clear. I can also see the mocking we’ll be in for, especially about that blood report. As a vampire, from my point of view, there is a rarity in our community where a vampire can only have a certain type of blood. That they’re allergic to all other types and only one would do.”

  Torger blinked. “Why the hell didn’t Jagger tell me this at the station? So, our perp may be targeting people with a certain blood type due to an allergy? Jesus, I’ve heard everything now.”

  Draven shrugged. “Well, we were human once. But yes, that’s possible. So you have to go back and see if the other victims can fall into that new theory. Sometimes it can also be the maker’s fault.”

  Torger rubbed the bridge of his nose. He could feel himself getting into a lecture about Vampire 101 and wasn’t sure how much information he could take without feeling it would be overload. “Okay, hit me.”

  “Well, sometimes if the process of conversion is interrupted, the maker can unintentionally cause an anomaly in their intended victim and complications can ensue.” Draven took a breath before he dived back into his explanation. “Such as allergies, inability to feed on blood but still crave it, no immunity to sunlight, no fangs or their digestive system can’t handle the intake of blood, so feeding would have to be taken intravenously rather than orally.” He stopped again and looked Torger over. “You getting all this?”

  Torger nodded as he allowed his brain to wrap around this new knowledge.

  Draven continued. “All of these cases are rare but have been known to happen. You should see Madcap Madigan in archives for more examples of vampire conversion failings. He’d know all about that. You can ask your girlfriend, Isy, too. She’s done enough research on vampirism to be an expert.” Draven grinned at the last comment and Torger resisted the urge to cuff him on that prod.

  “How do I get an audience with the Mad one? He hates company and refuses to see anyone without the proper credentials.” Torger didn’t want to even think about the hoops he’d have to jump through to get a pass just to get to archives. Madigan wouldn’t take a word from Draven. He had to have a paper trail, oral permission, written permission, passes, keys…the works.

  “If you want to avoid all that, get Isy to help you. Madigan loves her. Lots,” Draven teased.

  Torger resisted the urge to scowl. “Fine,” he spat out. “I’ll talk to her tonight. Urban is watching her at my place after the whole letter thing. I’m sure he’s been doing more background and investigation on his end.”

  “Will it stand up in court? Urban’s stuff? We have to make it stick.” Draven’s face was serious as he said this, and Torger knew he was thinking about the future, and the fanfare of the trial.

  “It will. I’m sure of it.” Torger left before Draven could ask him more questions about the case. He didn’t want to give away too much since he didn’t have a lot to go on to begin with. His mind was filled with questions. The foremost one was if this killer had an allergy and all the victims have the same blood type, how was this guy finding out that they’re a match to his need? A contest is one thing but breaking into medical records, especially in different states, is something else entirely. It speaks of a more sinister agenda, something pointed and direct. Unless they were dealing with two killers, one for the contests and the other just hunts random vacationers. The idea sent an icy finger down his spine. He shivered as goose bumps broke out over his arms despite the covering of a jacket and long sleeved shirt.

  As soon as he got into his car, he decided to swing by the station just in case there was anything else. As much as he wanted to check in on Isy, he had to do his job first. As soon as he pulled onto Excalibur Avenue his phone rang. He answered it via the Bluetooth hands free option in his car. “Torger.”

  “Sorry to bother you boss, found a body. It’s… You’ll have to see it.” Detective Santa Rosa’s voice was weak, almost as if she was trying to fight back vomit. A sense of anger shook him. Could the son of a bitch have struck again and this time taken his anger out on the victim? He hoped not. There was already enough hell to pay as it was. Torger would rip up all the afterlives if he had to, to get the killer.

  Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he responded. “I’ll be there.”

  Detective Santa Rosa gave him the address and rang off. He blew out a breath. “Here we go again.”

  * * * *

  Blood splattered the floors and walls. The crimson liquid formed pools on the linoleum. All he saw was red. It bathed his hands, covered his vision, stuck in clumps of his hair. There was nothing neat
or tidy about this killing and yet the hunger gnawed at his stomach, scratched through his veins, quivered along his muscles. His body throbbed with the pangs. The echo of the metallic ambrosia floated on the air. He could taste it on his tongue, feel it slide down his throat in thick rivers until he was practically choking on the memories of gorging on the victim. It had been nothing short of glorious delirium. Euphoria made his mind and body soar even though he was still on the ground. Finally, he’d fed. And fed well. Now it was all over and his thirst gnawed through his satiation of the good meal. Demanding more. The need for another, the never ending unquenchable hunger tormented his mind and roiled through his veins.

  The metallic aftertaste rolled over his taste buds demanding that he take more, find another, quench the need. The high pitch of a whistle pierced through the night air, fracturing his thoughts. With a snap of his head, he rose up off the filthy floor. His instincts forced him to follow the sound until he came upon a shrouded figure in a dark cloak. “Enough,” the person hissed. “You’ve fed well twice tonight. Time to go home. Now.”

  Anger seared through him at the interruption of his blood fest. He considered making the shadowed figure his next victim but knew that would be futile. Obeying for now, he licked the remaining blood off his fingers, following the figure to a black SUV parked at the curb outside of the house and climbed in. The hunger punched him in the gut, but he smiled in spite of it. Soon there would be another unknown victim and another chance to feed. And no one would stop him this time.

  Chapter Seven

  THE KILLER HAS STRUCK AGAIN. WILL IT NEVER END?

  The killer has hit close to home. When will this phantom menace be caught? -Isadora Jones, DC News Blast

  Nervous tension filled Isy. She paced the wooden floor in Torger’s guest room. Urban had settled her in before going to his computer and typing away. Blues music blasted through the tinny speakers of his laptop while he searched for whatever it was that he was looking for. Urban had shut off her cell phone. Supposedly to relax her. Instead, she felt as if she was missing a limb. News was happening right now and she wasn’t party to it. Damn him for not letting her leave the house to do her nightly broadcast. Damn the killer for putting her in this position. Right now, she was the story and she couldn’t even tell anyone what had happened or what she knew. It was as if by bringing her here, Urban and Torger had secreted her away from the world. She longed to hear the chirp of her text alert or the ring of her cell letting her know Bill had a story for her or a source had a scoop. Isy needed to see Michaela walk through the door, arms laden with clipboard, diary, and a whole bunch of newspapers and magazines that she’d comb through to decided what next to cover. Now, all she had was Torger’s cabin and a warden who refused to let her check her email.

  Sure the letter had been a shock. Wasn’t it her job to report the news, damn it? He had no right to treat her like a prisoner. There was no way for her to get back to town unless she went on foot. The forest may be a safe place but she didn’t want to go trouncing into the underbrush alone, in the dark and certainly not in the heels she’d stupidly decided to put on when leaving. It would have been idiotic to go to Torger’s house in her bedroom slippers, no matter how cute the plush, pink dragon shoes were. He wouldn’t have cared about her footwear but there was no way she’d not look her best in his home. So, full makeup, cute outfit, and the perfect shoes to match. Besides, her dragon refused to allow her to appear anything but her best. The reptile had pitched a fit about her choices in fashion, yelling as she’d pulled on the sweater and jeans, rather than the cute minidress that wouldn’t have made sense for a shock victim. Isy refused to play a victim card with Torger. A: he wouldn’t buy it. B: he’d think she was up to something and C: she refused to be a victim. It had been a shock, now that it was over.

  A glance at the clock showed that it was close to her broadcasting post. Anxiety crawled all over her skin like ants at the thought of her vacation replacement telling everyone what had happened to her at the studio. People would think she was weak! Unable to stop herself, she marched out of the room, right up to Urban. “I need to call Bill. He needs to tell me what’s going on.”

  “No.” Urban didn’t even look up when he answered.

  Fury shook through her body in a red hot wave. She clenched her fists as she tried to keep from smacking him upside the head. “What do you mean no?” Her tone sounded calm to her ears but there was a slight edge.

  Urban still didn’t look at her. “No. Torger doesn’t want you to work. Unless he says so, you don’t get your phone back. Now what do you want on your pizza? I’m hungry.” The loud growl of his stomach punctuated that declaration.

  She let out a resigned sigh. “You’re always hungry. Pepperoni and is pizza all you eat?” She settled down in a chair next to him, hoping to get him nice and comfortable before she made a play for her phone.

  “No, sometimes steak and sometimes, during a blue moon, actual veggies.” Urban slipped out her cell from his pocket and dialed a pizza place.

  She watched in silent anger at his audacity to use up her All the Time minutes. First, he ordered a pizza, then he used it to call someone named CyberCat. The conversation lasted so long the pizza had arrived and been half done by the time he hung up. All Isy could do was glower, eat and stew silently while he withheld information. A scream built up in her throat as her mind swirled over the possibilities of what he could have been talking about. None of what he’d said to CyberCat made sense. He was talking about illegal contests and medicine to suppress a Hyder persona. She’d never heard of any of it. Her mind traveled back to the house and the pill he’d found. Was he talking about that? Could Urban be talking about the new medicines aimed at the paranormal community to help newbies with the unending thirst they experienced in the beginning of their transformation? The questions didn’t stop there. She began spouting out theories of her own, that Evanson suffered from some unnamed medical condition. Maybe he was secretly a vampire who wasn’t trying to shove down the urge for blood. No one knew exactly what he was, but human was not an option. There had never been an answer given as to what he was and the questions were dropped as soon as they were asked during the first time he ran for office.

  Unable to keep quiet anymore, she decided to take a shot and ask Urban what was going on. He wasn’t Torger but they still shared the same DNA. “Okay, what’s going on? This is driving me crazy.”

  Urban looked up from the laptop, a slice of pizza in his hand and a beer in the other. “Um.” He put down the food and drink. He scratched the stubble on his chin before giving her an answer. “Well, CyberCat is a hacker. This is off the record, understand?”

  She nodded and turned on her mental recorder. May be off the record for him but could be a sweet news bit for me, maybe in a blog post. “Sure. Of course.” Isy gave him her sweetest, butter-wouldn’t-melt-in-my-mouth smile but didn’t miss the tension lines around his eyes and the way his lips thinned before he returned her gesture. She doubted that he trusted her as far as he could throw her in dragon form. “Soo, CyberCat?”

  Urban settled against the back of his chair, grabbed his beer, took a sip, and then fixed her with a hard stare. “Off. The. Record. No ifs, ands, or buts. If she gets nabbed, I’ll stick so many crimes on you, you won’t be able to move and Torger won’t be able to help you in the least.” He gave her another smile before continuing. “CyberCat was telling me about the tracking info for the illegal contests that were being held by the Tourist Board. People were asked to enter certain information, such as place of birth, birth date and blood type. The last part was optional and supposed to be all in fun, a sort of matchup with your favorite vampire type thing. Something stupid and directed at the vampire lovers.”

  Isy didn’t miss the tinge of disgust that edged that last sentence. She wasn’t sure if it had anything to do with hatred for vampires in general or for this scheme that was unraveling before him. Rather than push, she waited for him to continue.

  He
took another sip of beer before he began talking again. “The winners of the contest seemed to be based on who added information to that part of the entry. There were other winners who hadn’t entered any info besides the basics that were required, but I assume that had more to do with making the contest look legit. Right now, we’re matching the contest winners with the victims and whether or not they gave their blood type or not. I was also tracking down more info on that pill I found in Evanson’s house. Basically it’s a prototype that hasn’t been approved by the FDA yet. In fact, there haven’t been any trials for it.”

  Isy bit her lip to keep from asking any questions. Her brain was bursting with ideas, theories and speculations. It was hard to keep quiet. She squirmed in her seat. Her mouth ached from keeping her lips pressed together. Her fingers clutched the arms of her chair in a death grip as she tried to stay calm and not launch herself at him, pelting him with a million questions. Frantic energy coursed along her legs, demanding that she move, pace, and think out loud. She couldn’t take it anymore. “What the hell are the pills for?” she blurted out.

  Urban stopped talking. He blinked as if he had just realized something. “Oh, sorry, thought I said. They’re an experimental drug for suppression of hunger. According to CyberCat, they’re used for werewolves and vampires when they’ve been newly changed. Unlike natural born shifters, a made shifter deals with rage and hunger issues. Sometimes they’re uncontrollable. They deal with bouts of violence and severe depressive cycles, almost suicidal. And during the shifting times, they can change without thought or even the revolution of a full moon. So it’s a cocktail for both races. I’m not sure what it would do to a natural born shifter or an older vampire or any of the other races. There’s not a lot of information on it yet. I’m going to have my people look into it.”

 

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