He looked up and down the street. There was no one within blocks. It always amazed him that Times Square could be teeming with thousands of pedestrians, but just three blocks away the street might be practically deserted.
He passed by an alley thinking it was a luxury to do that, to just keep going. The next night then two nights after that and two nights after that, for as long as he cared to look into the future, it would be part of his job to turn into the darkness and investigate. But that night he was just a pedestrian in New York, walking home from a movie.
At times it occurred to Falcon that Fate seemed to take pleasure in dovetailing his thoughts with contradiction. No sooner had he thought that the night was pleasantly still when the wind kicked up. No sooner did he appreciate a night out as a civilian when he heard a sound in the alley he was passing.
He was alone and unarmed. There was no ambiguity where procedure was concerned. If he suspected paranormal activity, particularly vampire, he should contact the night’s watch who would relay his location to the nearest team on patrol, and wait for their arrival. He wondered if the party who’d written that procedure knew much about the nature of second sons.
As he started into the alley, he promised himself that he would not be visiting New York at night again without at least a stake inside a boot. With a sigh he stepped into the alley moving slowly against a wall. By the time he came to the first back door illuminated by a blue light, he’d decided that his imagination was becoming overactive in direct proportion to the mounting numbers of vampire encounters. Planning to retrace his steps, he turned and came face to face with a smiling figure that could be none other than Jazz Man.
There was nothing wrong with Falcon’s hearing. If the man had made a sound, it would have been heard.
It wasn’t just the oddity of sunglasses in an alley that confirmed identification. It was also the fair skin, blond streaked hair, the dark suit over dark shirt, worn fashionably without a tie. The halogen lamplight was dim but Falcon could see that his jerk of surprise caused the guy’s smile to broaden into a grin.
“Yeah.” He chuckled. “That never gets old. Call me perverse, but making tough guys jump? There just aren’t a lot of things more fun.”
“Glad you liked it. There’s another show at twelve.” Jazz Man laughed. “So you’re him?”
“Who?” He cocked his head to the side.
“Jazz Man.”
“Jazz Man?” he repeated.
“Yeah. That’s what they call you.” Falcon motioned to the clothes. “The clothes. The sunglasses at night.”
“Jazz Man,” he repeated and then laughed. “I like it. I don’t play a musical instrument. I should have taken one up. I’ve certainly had the time. Maybe I will one of these days. What do you recommend? Saxophone? Guitar?”
“I recommend you tell me who you are, why you’re lurking in this alley, and why you went out of your way to, ah, surprise me.”
“For somebody who looks cool, you act kind of… stodgy.”
“Not an answer to any of my questions.”
“Alright. Alright. Sweet and simple. I’m a vampire.” Falcon narrowed his eyes. “Obviously not the kind you’re used to dealing with. We call them deadheads.”
“We?”
“There are a few others like me scattered around the globe.”
“Look, I know it can be fun to pretend to be a vampire. But since it’s not Halloween and it has nothing to do with me, I’ll just get on with my night.”
Falcon started to step around, but Jazz Man stepped in front of him.
“You know, right now I’m only mildly perturbed with you. You don’t want to see me when I’m altogether out of sorts.”
Jazz Man cocked his head again. “You don’t believe me.” He laughed openly. “After all these centuries I finally ‘come out’, to a vampire hunter no less, and he doesn’t believe me.”
While he was laughing at the irony of that, Falcon hadn’t missed the fact that he’d been called a vampire hunter, which was even more alarming than the fact that the guy had come up behind him so silently that Falcon could easily be dead, if that had been the intent.
After a dramatic sigh, Jazz Man said, “My name is Jaxon Kell. I was born in England near York in the year 1379. And I’m a vampire.” He smiled and let his fangs descend enough to prove that he wasn’t one of the unhinged who believed they were the current incarnation of Dracula.
If Falcon was an ordinary citizen, he probably would have felt lightheaded and weak-kneed at the sight. But Falcon wasn’t an ordinary citizen, he was a decorated Black Swan knight.
His head was whirling with questions, but Kell wasn’t finished talking. “As I’m sure you’ve guessed, those things you call vampire and my kind have little in common. We’ve always been around, but there wasn’t any reason to make ourselves known before. It would have just made things sticky.”
“Sticky,” Falcon repeated dumbly.
“Yes. Sticky.”
After considering that for a few moments, Falcon said, “What do you want?”
“Straight and to the point. Thank you for not disappointing me by fainting or quivering. After watching you boys for centuries, I expected nothing less.”
“You’re welcome. What do you want?”
“Right. Here’s the thing. Your Order has been bumbling around for centuries, trying to put up some kind of lame resistance. Whenever you’ve managed to stumble onto one of the deadheads and take them out, it’s been practically by accident. First you bumbled around with one-on-one staking. Then you bumbled around with science and succeeded only in making the problem worse than ever. Gods’ Teeth. If left to your own devices, I’m sure you’ll be the end of humanity and then what will I do? Eat cows and chickens? I think not. Even if they had once been palatable, with all the antibiotics and growth hormones, they’ve become nothing but walking chemistry experiments.”
Falcon quietly stared for a few beats before saying, “For the third time, Jaxon Kell the Vampire. What. Do. You. Want?”
“You’re really taking this very well. Kudos. And Jax will do. Jaxon Kell the Vampire is far too formal for modern times. Although it does have a certain ring.”
When Falcon opened his mouth to convey impatience, Jax responded quickly.
“I’ve decided to help.” He nodded once, like a quick jerk of a bow. “There it is.”
“Help,” Falcon said drily.
“Was that a request or a statement of confirmation?”
“I know that you know that we’re in the business of hunting and killing vampire. Is that what you want to do, Jax? You want to help us hunt and kill vampire?”
“Tell you what. Why don’t we go have a drink together and talk about how I might be of service? How about Dublin Down? They don’t start the music for another hour. Meanwhile, there are always lots of beautiful girls.” When Falcon hesitated, Kell said, “My treat, of course.”
Falcon would have rolled his eyes if he had felt like it was safe to take them away from Jax the Vampire. “Why me?”
“Stroke of luck really. I saw you hunting the other night. Tonight here you are back in the old neighborhood again, but out alone.”
“I see.”
“Look, Buffy. I don’t have any intention of harming you. You and I both know if I wanted you dead, you’d be dead. Right?”
Falcon blinked. “You didn’t just call me Buffy.”
“I did. It didn’t escape my notice that you demanded my name, but didn’t offer yours. Until you introduce yourself properly, I’m thinking Sir Buffy is as good a name as any.”
“As much as I despise being called Buffy, I’m just not ready to ‘introduce myself properly’. I don’t even have the authority necessary to give myself permission for that.”
“Wow. Really? Who does?”
“Nice try.”
“Thought so. You know how to get to DD?”
“Yeah. I’ve passed it.”
“Meet me there in ten minutes.”
Jax smiled. “Oh, no. Thank you for the invitation, but if we ran into some of your associates on the street… Let’s just say we wouldn’t want to be seen together before we’ve had a chance to get to know each other. They might look askance at you being seen with a vampire.”
The vampire winked and blew Falcon a kiss, which was disconcerting to say the least, before appearing to disappear in a swirl of dark vapor. Whether or not that was technically an accurate description of what happened, he was gone. Falcon felt the willies creep over his skin, leaving goosebumps and raised hairs. It was the same feeling he’d had in the alley a couple of days before while he was waiting for cleanup.
He manned up and called after Jax, wherever he was. “Knights don’t look askance.” Then he muttered to himself. “Whatever that means.”
He ran over his options. He could stand the vampire up, go back to J.U. and forget about it. He could call the Sovereign and ask for direction. He could alert the team patrolling nearest Dublin Down and ask for backup. Or he could just meet Jaxon Kell at the bar.
Right or wrong he changed course for the bar, which wasn’t far from Times Square, but it was on the other side, which meant that Falcon would have to go through the crowds to get there.
He descended the stairs to Dublin Down, which was one level below the street. The place was packed. He ran his eyes over the crowd until he found what he was looking for. Jaxon Kell was sitting in a crescent-shaped booth with tufted maroon leather talking to an exceptionally beautiful girl, who just happened to be Gretchen Galen.
Whatever the fucker was saying must have been entertaining because Gretchen was laughing.
Falcon slid into the booth on Gretchen’s other side giving Jax a glare that should have caused his clothes to burst into flame. When she turned to see who had joined them, her lips parted at the same time her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?” she asked like it was an accusation.
“I’m not stalking you if that’s what you’re asking. My being here has nothing to do with you and everything to do with him. But while we’re on the subject, I thought you were going out with Jan and Camilla.”
“You know her?” said Jax. “What are the odds?”
Falcon and Gretchen both ignored him.
“I am,” she said. “They’ve gone to the Ladies. I’m holding the table. So what about him?” She jerked a glance over her shoulder.
“Yeah! What about me?” Jax grinned, enjoying the exchange and looking like he hadn’t had such fun in years, if ever.
“You’re not interested in him.”
Falcon was adamant enough to cause Gretchen to raise an eyebrow and lean back to get a good look at him. “Maybe I am and maybe I’m not. It’s not your business either way.”
“Oh yes it is,” Falcon insisted.
“I think you need to go, Falcon,” she said.
“That’s his name?” Jax said. “Falcon? You kids always come up with the best nicknames.”
“It’s not a nickname,” Falcon snapped at Jax. To Gretchen he said, “I’m not going until he does.” Falcon’s brows were knitted in the center and he kept his eyes on the vampire the entire time.
“Have you lost your mind?” The look she was giving him indicated that she was sure he had.
“No. Have you lost yours?” Falcon responded while Jax chuckled.
“What in the world makes you think you have the right to act this way?” she demanded.
“The right vested in me by The Order of the Black Swan. That is a vampire sitting next to you.” He said it slowly and carefully, still keeping his eyes on Jax.
She scoffed, but seeing that Falcon was serious, she turned to look at the man on her other side, who decided to play along. After he looked around to make sure everyone was preoccupied, he took off his sunglasses revealing his beautiful and strikingly pale eyes then allowed his fangs to descend just enough to catch the light.
Gretchen gasped and scrambled back against Falcon so fast she practically ended up in his lap.
At that moment a hostess showed up at Jax’s elbow. “Your table is ready, sir.”
Jax put his shades back in place then looked at Falcon. “Our table is ready.” He wiggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.
“What’s going on?” Gretchen asked Falcon, her face so close to his that he could feel her breath on his cheek.
“Don’t mention this to anybody.” He glanced at Kell. “Please. We’ll talk when you get back tonight. Call me.”
Jan and Camilla returned just as Jax was sliding out of the booth. He looked down and treated them to his sexiest predatory smile, one that he’d had centuries to perfect.
“Hello, beautiful ladies of the night.”
When they giggled, Falcon couldn’t help but roll his eyes as he slid out the other side of the booth.
“Excuse us,” Falcon said. “We have business. Enjoy your night. But be sure you’re back before curfew.” He leaned in close and said just so they could hear, “There are vampire afoot.”
The nurses looked at Falcon like he put the poop in party pooper.
“Sadly the gentleman is right.” Jax’s grin was the essence of undiluted charm. “Perhaps later.” As his tongue peeked out to moisten his lower lip, two sets of nurses’ eyes followed the movement, every bit as rapt as if he was singing a reprise from Les Miserables.
“No,” said Falcon. “There won’t be any later.” He shoved his way past the nurses.
“Hey!” they said.
Smiling, Jax gestured for Falcon to follow the hostess first.
“No,” said Falcon, “you first. I insist.”
With a parting wink at Gretchen and her friends, Jax turned and followed the hostess toward a booth in the back that was somewhat more private because it was built as a three-sided box.
Falcon took the side facing the room.
As he slid into the other side, Jax said, “You hungry?” When Falcon shook his head, Jax told the hostess, “Just drinks, doll. And maybe appetizers. Those spinach and cheese stuffed things.”
She smiled and left menus just in case. “Someone will be here in a minute.”
“You eat spinach and cheese?” Falcon asked, sounding incredulous. “What kind of vampire eats spinach and cheese?”
“Well, that’s what we’re here to talk about. Right?”
“This is your show. So get on with it.”
“Like I said, for a long time, your Order has kept a lid on the disease so that it wasn’t in danger of spreading to the entire population. But you accidentally created a new and hardier strain that’s getting away from you. I fear that if we don’t step in and give you a hand, well… cows and chickens. Not the rosiest future from my point of view.”
The waiter arrived. Jaxon ordered an appetizer sampler and a whiskey. “What’re you having?” he said to Falcon.
“Water.”
When the waiter left, Jax said, “There’s no need to be afraid that I’ll drink your blood if your reflexes are compromised by spirits. I’ve given you my word that I’m not going to bite you. For one thing, I have a strong preference for women.” He looked at Falcon with mischief. “Speaking of women, you have good taste, by the way.”
He noticed Falcon bristle, took a second to enjoy the reaction. He thought about needling Falcon with more talk about ‘taste’ and ‘women’, but decided that would work counter to his purpose. So, reluctantly, he let it go.
“For another thing, I’m not a ravenous slathering beast. I don’t need blood all that often to satisfy the need.”
“How often is not all that often?”
“Oh. Once a week or so.”
“For the sake of discussion, let’s say I’m buying what you’re selling. Walk me through what happens when you’re out for a refill.”
“Alright. You’ve probably noticed the world is full of lovely tender young things and, believe it or not, they find me every bit as attractive as I find them. I survey
the smorgasbord, select and seduce. I don’t take enough blood to harm or even be noticed. Then using a method that I suppose would be called hypnosis in these times, I suggest they forget about the encounter and go on their way pleasantly refreshed with a feeling akin to euphoria.”
Falcon said nothing as he tried to process that.
“Nothing to say?” said Kell. When Falcon still didn’t respond, he said, “Wow. I’ve stunned you into silence and I didn’t even use any mind tricks.”
“Mind tricks?” That seemed to bring Falcon’s attention back to the conversation.
“Indeed. I have a few.”
“Like Criss Angel?”
Kell laughed and bobbed his head. “Except seamless. And I’m better looking, of course.”
“How do I know you’re not using mind tricks on me? According to the claims you’ve just made, how do I know you haven’t already taken my blood?”
Jax sighed. “Are you going on your merry way pleasantly refreshed and smiling like a fool because of the lingering euphoric feeling?” Falcon frowned. Jax answered his own question. “No. You’re not. A bite from me is like the most powerful of your feel-good drugs, but not addictive.”
“Don’t your victims see the bite?”
Jax looked offended. “Whoa. Whoa. Hold it right there. Who said anything about victims? I take offense to that, Sir Buffy. I victimize no one. My donors get as good as they give, I assure you.”
“Really? Do you tell them what you’re going to do and give them a choice?”
“No, but…”
“There is no but, vampire. If the women you bite weren’t given a choice, they’re victims. Period.”
“I disagree. They’re given a choice about whether or not they want to fuck a stranger. When you agree to fuck a stranger, you’ve got to know that sometimes comes with the unexpected. Believe me. They could do a lot worse.”
The bar girl arrived with Jax’s whiskey and a waiter right behind her carrying a long wooden tray with appetizers. The sizzling collection of delectables was set in the middle of the table along with a small plate for the vampire and a small plate for the knight, who had to admit that the food looked and smelled good. Popcorn alone hadn’t sat well.
FALCON: Resistance (KBS Next Generation Book 1) Page 9
