Kiss of the Vampire

by Cynthia Garner

  He watched her duck beneath the crime scene tape and his jeans pulled even tauter across his groin. She paused and pulled off the booties, dropping them into a box set aside specifically for used protective gear. She gave a small wave to MacMillan and called out, “See you later, Dante.”

  The detective held up one finger, silently asking her to wait, and called out to Tobias, “When can we get together to compare notes?”

  Tobias checked his watch and responded, “Why don’t we get together first thing in the morning? We can discuss it over coffee.”

  “Coffee for you, maybe. Breakfast for me.” MacMillan murmured something to the tech next to him and then said to Tobias, “Seven a.m. at IHOP all right with you? Nix?”

  Tobias gave a nod. He really didn’t care where they met.

  “Oh, wait, that’s daytime hours…” MacMillan grimaced, then shook his head.

  “Newly turned vampires are the only ones who can’t abide sunlight,” Tobias said, “but after twenty-five years or so it’s not a big problem. Sunglasses help.”

  “Oh, never mind, then. There goes that whole ‘creatures of the night’ mystique thing you had going on, though,” Dante taunted.

  Tobias caught the glance MacMillan sent his way before the detective asked Nix, “Can I talk to you for a minute? In private.” She smiled and they walked several yards down the street, well away from the crime scene. “Can he hear us from here?” MacMillan asked.

  Yes, he can. Tobias scowled. What was so damned important that the cop had to talk to her alone?

  The detective leaned toward Nix, one arm braced against the wall of the building they stood by. It was clear from his stance that he was interested in her. With a snarl Tobias turned back toward the crime scene. Nix’s private life was none of his business, not anymore. Resisting the urge to turn back to watch the two of them, he caught the attention of one of the techs and motioned him over. “What have you recovered so far?”

  The man shook his head. “Not much of anything. This was a body dump, all right. She was killed some place else.” At Tobias’s grunt of impatience, he added, “We have blood and tissue samples, probably all the victim’s, but that’s it, man. There’s nothing else here.”

  “Okay, thanks.” Tobias stood still, staring at the ground, at the blood staining the dirt. Rinda’s blood. She was his friend. Had always been a kindred spirit. It was a disconcerting thing, waking up in someone else’s body. But when you found someone who’d gone through the same thing, you right off the bat had something in common. Sometimes that translated to friendship or something more. She’d been like family to him.

  Tension rode high down his neck and into the rest of his muscles. He rotated his shoulders, working out the kinks. Who would have done this? And why? He ground his jaw. She’d had something to talk to him about and he’d gotten back to town as quickly as possible, but he’d been too late. He’d failed her.

  Tobias tightened his jaw even more. It wasn’t his first failure. He still hadn’t found the quarry he’d followed through the rift. But he would. As soon as he found Rinda’s killer, he’d get back on the bastard’s trail.

  Tobias went over to the medical examiner’s van, taking off his booties and gloves and dropping them in the disposal box on the way. “Hang on a second there, boys,” he said before the body snatchers could close the back door of the van. “I need the autopsy report as soon as possible. When can I expect it?”

  The lead tech, a werewolf, didn’t look up from his clipboard. “I’ll be assisting the doc with whatever’s left of the old gal. Report should be ready by tomorrow or next day at the latest.”

  Son of a…With speed fueled by rage Tobias grabbed the man by the front of his coveralls. Lifting him off his feet, he slammed him into the door of the van, rocking the vehicle. The werewolf looked up from his clipboard, his startled gaze fixing on Tobias’s. Tobias snarled, “You treat her with respect or they’ll be picking what’s left of you up off the street. Understood?”

  The werewolf’s throat moved with his hard swallow. “Yes, sir. I meant no disrespect.”

  “Uh-huh.” Tobias let him down slowly. With his face just inches from the tech’s, he whispered, “Victims should not be victimized again by your indifference. Show a little compassion.”

  The tech pressed his lips together and nodded. “Got it. Won’t happen again.”

  Tobias smoothed the material where he’d bunched it, holding the werewolf’s gaze a moment longer, and then turned away. He stopped, his eye caught by Nix and MacMillan still talking. He wondered what the hell they could be talking about so long and then reminded himself it was none of his business. He was here to do a job, and once it was done he’d leave again. Get back to tracking down the man who’d assassinated the leader of Tobias’s people, the reason Tobias had come through the rift to begin with.

  The only reason he had to keep going, now that he no longer had Nix.

  “…and that’s how he and I met,” Nix finished. She looked back at the crime scene to see Tobias standing tall and strong. She was struck by the lonely picture he made. Surrounded by people and yet all alone. It was almost enough to make her want to go back to him, offer him companionship.

  Almost. The pangs of hurt vibrating inside kept her feet planted right where they were.

  Dante nodded. “Well, again, I’m sorry about your friend.”

  “Thanks.”

  “So…” He paused and looked at her. She could almost see the wheels turning inside his head. He said, “You seem to understand the different factions.”

  She had a feeling that wasn’t what he’d originally meant to say. “Yeah,” she said slowly, wondering where this was going.

  “How did you get involved with EDs? I mean, I’m in this because of my job. Special Case Squads were set up pretty quickly as soon as we humans realized EDs were real, and once I’d gotten the requisite amount of detective hours under my belt, I signed on for this quadrant. But you… How did you get mixed up in all this?”

  “You mean what’s a nice girl like me etcetera, etcetera?” She raised her eyebrows, smiling a little when he shrugged and looked like a sheepish little boy. All he needed to do was scuff one foot back and forth and the picture would be complete.

  “Yeah, I guess.” His stare sharpened, reminding her there really was nothing boyish about him at all. He was a tough cop. He used humor to deal with the horrible things he saw every day, but when it came down to it he was a hardened warrior. “There has to be more to it than that you’re part demon.”

  She gave a short laugh. “No, no, that’s pretty much it. My demon half gives me certain…advantages over full-blooded humans. I can smell better, my sense of taste is stronger, and I’m physically stronger than a normal human woman. Or human man, for that matter.” She grimaced. “Of course, there are definite disadvantages, too.”

  He didn’t take his gaze off her. “Like what? Seems to me being stronger than most others around you and having more acute senses would outweigh any disadvantages.”

  “You don’t know what it’s like…” Nix shook her head. “You’ve never seen me go demon.”

  He frowned. “I’ve seen your eyes go from brown to yellow. Which, by the way, they are a little right now and it’s kinda creepy. Just sayin’.”

  She rolled those eyes. “That’s just the tip of the horn, my friend.”

  “Meaning…?”

  Maybe it was because she was a little off her beat due to seeing Tobias again. Maybe it was because she had no problem trusting Dante with something so personal. Maybe it was because she was just so tired of always hiding part of herself. Whatever the reason, she looked him in the eyes and said, “I sprout horns. Literally.” At his look of surprise she qualified, “They’re really horn buds, but they pop up from under my skin just beneath my hairline. But that’s not the worst of it.”

  Dante leaned closer, one shoulder against the wall, his entire stance one of protection as if to shield her from prying eyes. “What�
�s the worst of it?” His deep tones were hushed, eyes conveying concern and compassion.

  Could she adequately describe the raging needs that came with being a demon? “Since it usually only happens when I’m angry or upset, those emotions are intensified. If I was angry before the demon came out, then afterward I’m enraged. I see everything with a tint of yellow. The only thing I can think about is violence. And sex,” she added as an afterthought. When his eyes widened slightly, she said, “It isn’t only men who think about sex a lot.”

  “So, when you get mad you want to rip a guy’s head off or maybe do a little somethin’ else with his other head?” He waggled his brows.

  She didn’t laugh. Dante didn’t understand exactly what could happen. “My mother is from a clan of demons that drain the life force from their mating partners. If they’re not careful they do it all at once and kill the man they’re having sex with. Sometimes that’s the way they want it, to orgasm while their mate is dying.” She pressed her lips together and looked down at the sidewalk. “That’s what my mom eventually did to my dad. I was just a baby, and she killed him.”

  He gave a low whistle. “So your mom is a praying mantis of the demon world, eh?”

  “Something like that.” It was why her grandmother had resented, even hated, Nix so much. After her mother had dumped her with the old woman to raise, Grandma had provided a roof over her head, food to eat, and clothing to wear, but not much love or acceptance. Nix had thought that was normal because she hadn’t gotten much love from her mother, either. Then her grandmother died, and, at sixteen, Nix became a ward of the state and was placed in a foster home. She’d never really fit in, and seeing firsthand what a loving relationship between parents and children was supposed to be like had been too much for her. She’d run, living on the streets, getting into trouble, learning how to survive.

  She shook herself free of the past and said to Dante, “It’s her kind of demon—my kind of demon—that gave rise to stories about succubi and incubi.”

  His eyes widened again. “Are all demons like that?”

  Nix shook her head. “There are different clans with different…abilities. Some are assassins and have the requisite abilities to be damned good ones, some can induce fear and panic in others, some are empathic. It’s quite varied. But one thing all the clans share in common is that they’re considered the lowest of all preternaturals.” She tamped back the natural outrage she always felt whenever she thought of the way demons were looked upon by other prets. “As far as the rest of the pret community is concerned they’re bottom feeders.”

  Continuing to talk about it dredged up old memories that brought anguished emotions rushing to the surface. Nix felt pain skittle below her hairline and brought up one hand to rub her forehead. She looked at Dante. “Anyway, the more I lose control of the demon the more I lose my humanity. There haven’t been that many, but most hybrids like me, children born of a pret and a human, go insane by their early twenties. It’s too much for their human brain to handle the violent and sometimes sexual demands of their inner preternatural. If I can keep the demon at bay I can keep my mind intact.” She crossed her fingers behind her back. Unwillingly she glanced past his shoulder and watched Tobias for a few seconds. God, she’d missed him. She’d loved him. Hated him. And now her emotions were so conflicted she wasn’t sure what she was feeling. Her head ached beneath her bangs, like a sinus headache only focused higher, and her eyes burned as the demon used her emotional upheaval to make itself known.

  “And now your eyes are yellow rimmed with red.” He straightened. “Should I, ah, be concerned here?”

  She dragged her gaze back to Dante. “It takes more than a few sad memories to make me go demon.” That control had been hard won and found largely through trial and error. If nothing else, Tobias’s leaving her had shown her how close she’d been to giving over to her demon. She patted Dante on the arm. “I’m okay. You don’t have to worry about me going demon on your ass, especially not in front of all our colleagues.” She took a few deep breaths to refocus her control and felt the burn leave her eyes. She knew Dante was aware of how she always fought to keep her demon under control. Now he knew why.

  He lifted his chin in acknowledgment. “So…the factions?” he asked, bringing them back to his original question. He hooked his thumbs over his belt, his fingers framing the large cowboy belt buckle he always wore.

  “They’re not factions per se, Dante. All preternaturals were corporeal, mostly humanoid beings in the other dimension. And, unfortunately, just about all of them were criminals.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the wall of the building. She glanced at the scene behind him again and noticed that most of the technicians were starting to pack up their things. That spoke volumes to just how little evidence was at the scene. “Some were political prisoners, persecuted for their stand against the authorities on their various worlds, or were denounced as religious heretics. But most of them were undesirables.” She paused, waiting for Dante to process what she’d told him so far. At his nod, she went on. “Tobias is one of the few exceptions. He was kinda like a Secret Service agent and U.S. marshal rolled into one. He came through the rift chasing a criminal who’d assassinated their leader. The assassin was tried and found guilty and was supposed to be executed. But he bribed a few officials and escaped through the rift instead.”

  Dante’s eyebrows went up. “I didn’t know that. I just assumed…” He turned to look at Tobias. “I figured he’d been a criminal like the others.” He looked at Nix. “Though I’ll admit, most of the EDs I’ve come into contact with have seemed law abiding for the most part.”

  Nix watched Tobias, too. He was talking to one of the criminalists, most likely telling him how to do his job if the way he was pointing toward the scene was anything to go by. She brought her attention back to Dante and nodded. “Many of them see this as a second chance. Most of the worlds they come from don’t practice capital punishment, which is why when the rift was discovered it seemed like an ideal solution. I suppose once the initial outlay of capital for the technology was recouped, they actually save money. No housing prisoners in jails, giving them three squares and time in the library every day.”

  “Yeah, the grand solution was to send their criminals to us.” He scowled and hunched his shoulders. “Out of sight, out of mind, right?”

  “Well, to be fair, I don’t think they know exactly what’s on the other side. They probably think the incorporeal entities they send through the rift are just…I dunno. Floating around.” She made a vague gesture with one hand. “I’d hate to think they know that the people they exile are, as you say, squatting in other people’s bodies and they just keep right on sending them through anyway.”

  “Yeah, well, I wouldn’t put it past ’em to do just that. As long as they get rid of their problems, why should they care what it does to people they don’t even know?” Dante leaned one shoulder against the wall and stared down at her. His dark eyes narrowed a bit. “This is really hard for me to get my head around, you know?”

  “I understand.” She shifted her stance to face him. “If I hadn’t grown up around them I’m sure I wouldn’t be so matter-of-fact about it. I mean, when something that only existed in myths and legends is suddenly living right next door, it’s only natural to freak out a little.”

  “A little?” He snorted. “People were dousing family members with gasoline and setting them on fire, trying to ‘kill the beast.’” His face hardened with the memories of those early days. “I had to start watching my back because of the witch hunts going on in the department. It’s settled down now, but I don’t think it would take much to make things flare up again. Especially the closer we get to the next Influx.”

  “Well, maybe Congress will sign that funding bill.”

  “Don’t hold your breath.” Dante scuffed one booted heel against the dirt. “Even if they do free up billions of dollars for research, no one that I’ve heard of has the remotest idea how to stop the r
ift from happening. We don’t have enough time. Or the right technology.” He paused and blew out a breath. “So, look, about what I didn’t want Tobias to overhear…” He jerked his head toward the vampire and looked at Nix. “I was wondering…that is, I was hoping we could go get a couple of drinks.” When she didn’t respond, he sighed and started to turn away. “Not a good idea, huh? I know you said early on that we should keep things strictly professional, and you’ve turned me down other times I’ve asked, but I’d hoped maybe you’d change your mind.” He glanced at her, disappointment reflected on his face. “Let’s just drop it.”

  “Dante…” Nix would like to have drinks with Dante, but only as a friend. She didn’t want to send him mixed signals, though, so she shook her head in refusal even as the fleeting thought of using Dante to make Tobias jealous flitted through her mind. It would be a waste of time, because she knew Tobias wouldn’t care one way or another. After all, he’d been the one to leave her. Plus it would hardly be fair to Dante to use him like that. “I can’t,” she told Dante. “We’re friends. I don’t want to mess that up.”

  He blew out a sigh. “I figured you’d tell me no again. Can’t blame a guy for trying though, right?”

  She touched him briefly on the arm. “No, I can’t.” Not knowing what else to say, she glanced at her watch and murmured, “I have to make my report to the council.”

  “Sure.” He gave an easy shrug and started back toward the crime scene. Nix fell into step beside him. As they walked, Dante said, “I’ve been thinking about trying out a new place. Well, new to me anyway. You ever been to the Devil’s Domain?”

  “It’s only the hottest, trendiest place to hit town in the last twenty years.” She stared at him, grateful he’d so easily changed the subject, and seemed to not be bothered by her refusal to go out with him, but she was a little concerned about his choice of bars. “You do realize it’s owned by Maldonado, right? And that prets hang out there? A lot of them.” Most nights it was packed to capacity and looked like the United Nations of the fanged and furry.