The Unmasking (Dhampyre the Hunter Book 1)

by David Burkhead

  "Walking cast?" I asked hopefully. "Boot?"

  He smiled. " 'Fraid not. Not yet. But once we redo your hand, I think we can get you out of that wheelchair. At least we can if you can handle crutches."

  "Oh, thank you." Crutches meant mobility. Crutches meant I could be out on my own. Crutches meant I could get out of that short-term care facility and away from Old Lady Perky.

  "Right" Carter closed his laptop computer. "The nurse will be with you shortly. We'll get that cast changed, and see if you can manage crutches."

  As soon as he walked out of the room, I started my phone and opened my hotel booking app. Rooms, available now, handicapped accessible. Available for...oh, let's start with a week's stay.

  I didn't book the room, I wasn't stupid. But if I could manage the crutches, I was going to a hotel, one with a restaurant. And I was going to wrap myself around the biggest steak they had.

  Doctors' offices and hospitals have a different concept of "be right in" and "just a few minutes" than do most other places. It was at least a half our before the nurse came in, wheeling a cart that contained the equipment to remove the old cast and install a new one and, wonder of wonders, a pair of crutches hanging from a hook on the side of the cart.

  Eventually, I had the cast replaced with a trim fiberglass cast that allowed me to grasp with thumb and first two fingers and crutches to try under the watchful gaze of a nurse.

  "That went well," the nurse said. "I guess you've done this before."

  "No more wheelchair?" I asked, hopefully.

  "Well, not quite," she said. "You can use the crutches but if you start to get tired, have any problems with balance, or have pain in your right hand, get back to the chair. Take it easy. Don't push to hard."

  "Oh, I promise," I said.

  "Very well," the nurse said. "We'll get you checked out here in a minute. Do you need to call for transport?"

  "I'll be fine," I said.

  As soon as she left, I grabbed my phone and booked the room I'd found. I then went looking for handicapped transportation services in the city. The nurse, of course, was right, I'd still need the wheelchair for a while, although not nearly as long as she might imagine. I just hoped Matei could find a doctor who could sign off on removing the casts without raising too many questions about my fast healing and without my having to use too much Push.

  I filled out the paperwork to check out, called in the request for a wheelchair accessible van, and let the orderly wheel me to the lobby to wait.

  A room with a door I could lock, really lock, and actually keep people out. And a restaurant, with real food, no more than an elevator ride away.

  Luxury.

  Nice thing about using the company card, I didn't have to scrimp on price. Between recovering from my injuries and not knowing how long I was going to stay, a cheap fleabag hotel would not do. Handicapped access and a decent restaurant in the hotel ranked high among my list of priorities. And given the pattern so far of the vampires' attacks, I needed someplace near the downtown area. Add in what places had rooms available and there were not that many choices.

  The Westin would do nicely.

  Although I had the crutches, the helpful young man at the front door was more than willing to wheel me to the desk in my wheelchair. And, to be honest, it would be awkward at best to try to walk on crutches and get the wheelchair up to my room.

  I checked in then went up to the room. After the hospital bed I'd been stuck in, the king size bed in the room, piled high with duvets and pillows, beckoned promising a foretaste of heaven. But first things first.

  I flipped through the binder of guest amenities. After I found what I wanted, I picked up the room phone dialed room service, ordering a large, protein-heavy late lunch. While waiting I pulled out Ware's card and called him.

  At four rings, I heard, "Detective Sergeant James Ware isn't answering right now. Please leave a message at the tone."

  "Detective, this is Dani Herzeg. I've moved out of the care facility. I'm staying at the Westin downtown. Call me at your earliest convenience so we can meet to plan our next moves. I'm going to nap until about sunset. Feel free to leave a message on my phone. Thanks."

  I glanced at the clock. I still had a little time before they would be delivering the meal. I stood up, grabbed the crutches, and made my way to the bathroom. Both wrist and ankle casts were fiberglass with Gore-Tex padding. I didn't have to worry about getting them wet and a quick shower would feel amazing after days of inadequate sponge baths. If only I had clothes to change into. Well, I thought, maybe Ware had found the rental car and my luggage. I could hope.

  I had just pulled the scrubs back on and was toweling my hair when the knock came at the door. "Room service."

  The young man at the door brought the tray in and set it on the desk. He then turned to face me and pause.

  "Sorry," I said. "I don't have any cash. Can I add your tip to the bill?"

  His smile seemed a little strained. "That would be fine, ma'am."

  I knew how this worked. I resolved to make it a good tip as I locked the door behind him.

  A few minutes later—I always ate fast—and the gnawing void in my stomach faded to replete fullness. I stretched out on the bed. In seconds darkness took me.

  The alarm on my phone woke me. I stretched. Almost no pain in my ribs. While the bone might not be back up to full strength, it was at least knit well enough that it didn't hurt. That was strange. I healed fast, I knew that, but not that fast.

  I glanced at my phone confirming the time. It would be just after sunset in Nashville. I also saw the message indicator. I picked up the phone and dialed.

  "Please enter your password."

  I punched in the numbers.

  "You have one new message."

  "Yeah, come on," I said while waiting for the interminable greeting to finish.

  Finally, Ware's voice came on the line. "Ms. Herzeg. I'm afraid I haven't found anything about the rental car. It is not where you say you left it and it hasn't shown up in any of the impound lots. If I had to guess, it's been stolen and stripped by now."

  "Damn," I said. There went my luggage.

  Ware was continuing. "I'd like to meet with you this evening, see if there's any way we can avoid..." His voice trailed off. Even the hardened, experienced police detective did not want to say "another massacre." I understood that. I didn't even want to think it.

  "Call me after seven. I'll be able to pick up then."

  The message ended, and I pressed the button to delete it before looking at the clock again. Not quite seven. I dialed another number.

  "McIntire Investigations."

  "This is Herzeg. I need the boss."

  "One moment, Ms. Herzeg."

  I waited. A moment later I heard Matei's voice. "Dani."

  He did not say any more.

  "They redid the cast on my right arm at the hospital today. I'm at least partially mobile on crutches. Still need the wheelchair for any extended movements but at least I can push myself now."

  "Good. You need to find these vampires."

  "Meeting with my police contact tonight," I said. "I'll see what I can find out. Oh, and Boss? He knows."

  "You told him?"

  "He worked it out for himself mostly," I said. "These guys aren't exactly being discreet."

  "No, they are not," Matei said, "and that concerns me. We are seeing much the same in the other cases."

  "So I'm...still on my own?"

  "You are. Very well, this police officer knows. Tell him what you need to. If he talks, his superiors won't believe him. And if he becomes a problem, I will deal with it."

  "Matei you'll..."

  Matei gave a very good imitation of a sigh. He was getting better at imitating humans. "Killing police officers draws too much attention. I will simply alter his memories."

  I shivered. For a moment, I wondered if that would not be worse, to be mind-raped that way. Then I thought of Ware lying in an unmarked grave, pale and b
lood-drained and decided no, dead was worse.

  "I'm sure that won't be necessary," I said. "In the meantime, the rental car has vanished. And along with it my clothes and gear."

  "You have a company card," Matei said. "Use it as you need. I believe Amazon can offer overnight shipping for any clothes and items you cannot purchase locally."

  "If you're sure that's okay." I could not stop a grin. A shopping spree? On the boss's nickel?

  "We are not hurting for money," Matei said. "I have been putting a little away for a very long time."

  He disconnected.

  I blinked and stared at the phone. Had he just copied my "Love at First Bite" joke? He never joked. And he would never make a joke from a vampire parody romantic comedy. Maybe he was getting better at imitating humans.

  Stranger things had happened.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  After speaking to Matei, I dialed Ware's number.

  "Ware," he said.

  "Dani Herzeg," I said.

  "Ms. Herzeg. I take it you got my message."

  "I did. When would you like to meet?"

  "When would be convenient to you?"

  "I need to eat. There's a restaurant here in the hotel. After that?"

  "Better, how about I just meet you there. You're staying at the Westin?"

  "Yes."

  "Twenty minutes then?"

  I looked down at my bedraggled clothing, the scrubs given to me at the hospital and all I had until I could buy more. I didn't need to take much time to dress but a quick shower before he arrived would be good. As somebody's grandmother always said, better to put dirty clothes on a clean body than clean clothes on a dirty body. I'd have preferred clean clothes on a clean body, but we couldn't always get what we wanted.

  "Twenty minutes will work." I sucked in a breath. "And can I ask a favor?"

  "What favor?"

  "I literally have nothing but the clothes I wore out of the hospital and a small bag of what was in my pockets. I need to get some more but..."

  "But you need a ride and maybe someone to wheel you around." I heard a chuckle in his voice. "I'm a homicide detective, Ms. Herzeg. My job is to catch murderers, not take women on shopping expeditions."

  "I promise to keep it short."

  I heard his sigh over the phone. "And we can't have you assisting in an investigation in dirty scrubs, can we? All right. I can pick your brain while we're at it."

  I nodded by habit even though of course he could not see it. "Twenty minutes. In the lobby?"

  "That works."

  "See you then." I disconnected.

  Fifteen minutes later, shower finished and hair towel dried, I pulled on that sorry looking and worse feeling set of scrubs. I tucked the crutches in next to me in the wheelchair and rolled out of the room.

  By the time I reached the lobby, Ware was already there. He rose at my approach. "Allow me."

  "Thank you," I said. While I could manipulate either crutches or wheelchair on my own, the cast on my right arm nevertheless made both awkward. But anything was better than that short-term care facility.

  The hotel had two restaurants, one a simple coffee and pastry bar, the other a full-service steak house. Coffee and pastries would not fuel my healing body. Ware seemed to sense that. He wheeled me to the interior entrance to the steak house.

  The steak house had a "business casual" dress code. Fortunately, few people are going to turn away a person in a wheelchair and casts for failing to meet the dress code. Ware's slacks, dress shirt, and sports coat more than met the code. The discreet, but nevertheless visible badge may have helped. I am almost certain it was responsible for our quick seating.

  Ware never said a word, never suggested they offer any priorities, but inside of five minutes the host led us to a table.

  The restaurant had a quiet atmosphere typical of upscale places. Nevertheless, there was enough background noise that we could speak in relative privacy so long as we kept our voices down.

  Our server was young, no more than twenty at my guess. He had darkish blonde hair, the kind some called "dishwater blonde". He stood about five ten and had that rail-thin quality of young people who haven't started filling out yet. "My name is Thomas, and I'll be your server today. May I start you off with something to drink?"

  To be honest, I could have used a drink but I decided that would be ill-advised with the medicines I was still taking. "Just Coke, please."

  "And you, sir?"

  Ware glanced at the menu and ordered an obscure beer I'd never heard of.

  "And may I start you off with an appetizer?"

  I looked at Ware. He turned up an open hand in a "help yourself" gesture. I glanced down at the menu.

  "Blackened sea scallops, I think."

  "And you sir?" Thomas turned to Ware.

  "That will be fine, thank you."

  When Thomas left, I cocked an eyebrow at Ware. It was a neat trick. I'd spent hours in front of a mirror practicing the eyebrow cock. "Beer?"

  Ware smiled. "I'm officially off duty. It's not like the stuff we're talking about can be on the record."

  "No, I suppose it can't."

  I mentally upped Thomas's age to twenty-one when he brought our drinks himself. Sometimes the laws are stupid.

  Ware sipped at his beer. "So, vampires are real. What else is real?"

  "I just deal with vampires," I said. "That's more than enough."

  "That's not a denial," Ware said. "There are other things out there?"

  "I encountered werewolves once," I said. "They tend to stay in remote places, away from people. That both lets them keep themselves hidden and keeps them from threatening humans. Certain fae, fairy creatures, still exist but, well, iron and steel are so ubiquitous these days that they stay very hidden."

  "Anything else?"

  "I'm sent against vampires. I've got enough to do dealing with those."

  Thomas brought my blackened scallops. He placed the plate in the middle of the table.

  "Are you ready to order?"

  "I am." I looked at Ware. "You?"

  We each gave our order and Thomas scurried away.

  "Very good. I'll be back shortly."

  "So...vampires," Ware said when Thomas had left. "We talked about weaknesses this morning, what about their strengths? Can they change into bats?"

  "No, they can't change into bats. They're strong. Not like you see in the movies, able to throw cars around. Maybe three to five times as strong as they were in life. The thing is, they're frozen as they are when first turned. They don't age. They don't change, not physically. A vampire who was scrawny and weak in life will be a scrawny and weak vampire."

  "What can we expect? Are they going to attack again tonight? Crap, are they maybe killing people while we're sitting here eating."

  At his words a wave of guilt washed over me. I stomped it down. To stop the vampires, I had to be able to fight them. And to fight them, I had to heal. And to heal, I needed fuel. I would accomplish that no faster eating fast food burgers than I would in a nice steak house.

  Still, Ware deserved an answer.

  "I don't think so." I tapped my head, almost clocking myself with my cast. "That attack at the hospital would have required a lot of their mind control. I call it 'Push.' Did the cameras show anything?"

  Ware's lips thinned before he spoke. "Got the whole thing on disk."

  I watched him for a moment. He was an experienced, hardened homicide detective and this shook him. No surprise there. It shook me too. From having seen the results, I could imagine how bad the event itself would be. I caught myself. "Event". What a simple word to for a savage massacre.

  "I'll need to see it." My voice sounded small in my own ears. I did not want to watch that video. But my word choice was correct. I needed to.

  It was Ware's turn to stare at me for a moment. "I'll arrange it."

  I cut a piece from one of the scallops and put it in my mouth.

  Ware waited until I had chewed and swallowed before
speaking again. "So, mind control you said."

  I took a drink and nodded. "Vampires can affect people's minds. There are limits. The ego resists and eventually the control breaks down. But for a time, they can control a person completely enough that they will sit immobile while they sink fangs into him. Pain has to be quite extreme to break through the Push. Fear might break it, but the fear has to be something even stronger than fear of death.

  "They could influence people enough to make them ignore what was going on in that room. And that included anyone monitoring the cameras. But that would have been draining for them. They couldn't do it too often. It takes time to recover the ability once they've used it up. We should have a couple of days before they'll be able to do something like that again."

  " 'Should,'" Ware said.

  "I wish I could give you more." I said. "These bastards are acting very unlike ordinary vampires. This kind of high-profile crime is not like them."

  "Great, just what we need," Ware said, "Vampire terrorists."

  Thomas brought my mixed grill and Ware's chicken. I had noticed that he had chosen the cheapest entree on the menu and no appetizer. The restaurant was not cheap, and he was probably thinking he'd blown his entertainment budget for the month.

  I wondered if his ego would allow him to let me pay. After all, I had no problem spending Matei's money, not when he was throwing me to the wolves without support.

  With the arrival of our entrees, Ware seemed to consider business concluded for the evening. We talked about inconsequentials for the rest of the meal. Ware was remarkably easy to talk to. I supposed that was part of what made him a good investigator.

  After taking away our plates, Thomas offered a selection of deserts which both Ware and I declined.

  "So," Ware said when Thomas went to get the check, "Vampires can influence people just like your boss. Good vampire versus bad vampire?"

  I hesitated. "Matei is not a good vampire."

  "But he is a vampire?" Although Ware ended his sentence on the rising note of a question, it was more of a statement.

  I sighed and nodded.

  "And you work for him."

  "Don't get me wrong, Matei is as much a psychopath as any vampire. Nothing drives him but self-interest. But some older vampires have concluded that their self-interest is served by a less...predatory...approach."