Howling Shadows

by C. N. Owens

I nod. “She’s a little badass… tried to kill me,” I say, laughing.

  “This is so my case,” Nate remarks, ignoring my comment as he looks over at Leila. “Fuck these monsters.”

  “I know.”

  “Do you want to interview her? I can give you a call when she wakes up,” he asks.

  “I’ll consider it. I need to get with my partner and see what she wants to do next.”

  Nate nods. “Understood.”

  “I heard you say Norfolk PD, but the coven I cleared is in Portsmouth. Wouldn’t that take you out of your jurisdiction?”

  “Yes, but these scenes are always so gruesome; we’re all put in a pool and randomly drawn to oversee the local authorities’ part in this.”

  “Good idea. You were the last person I expected to see here. Look at you, Detective. You’ve come a long way from the beat cop that I remember.”

  “Yeah, don’t remind me. I still don’t know how I made it.” Nate laughs, pulls a business card out of his pocket, and hands it to me. “How long will you be in town?”

  “Depends on if I’m still needed here, but I hope I can go home soon. It hasn’t been a total waste, though. My ex lost her mind last week and arranged for me to see my daughter yesterday. It was great, but I question her motives.”

  “Maddie?”

  I cringe when Nate remembers her name. “Yeah, that’s her.”

  “Wow, times have changed.”

  “They unfortunately have,” I say.

  Nate shoves his phone into his pocket. “Hey, do you have a few hours to kill?”

  “I reckon.”

  “Perfect, I have a case that tied me up for most of last night, some type of attack in a motel room, one dead, another injured. Maybe you can give me your opinion.”

  “How could I help?”

  “Let’s go for a ride. Afterward, I’ll buy lunch.”

  ***

  It’s early evening, and we are on the way to Nate’s house, having just had dinner downtown. My rental was towed from the hospital, and Nate was kind enough to run me by the towing yard to get my things. I got to clean up at his precinct, and then we spent a few hours going over a scene at a motel, which left me clueless. The injuries on one of the victims looked like an animal attack, but it would have to be something big to have done that kind of damage. Either way, it wasn’t a vampire; they leave a clean victim and have distinct bite patterns: two fangs, four fangs, a few others, but nothing like this. So, I told him to consider a human or animal attacker.

  My phone vibrates as we pass through the Midtown Tunnel bound for Norfolk. A surprising thing, getting signal under forty feet of water. It’s Cassie: Are you coming over soon? I can’t wait to see you!

  I had to translate that. It was a jumble of misspelled words and autocorrect abortions—typical for Cassie. It’s not that she’s dumb; in fact, she’s quite intelligent. She just despises all technology. That should be expected, though, considering how when she was born a horse and cart was considered high-tech.

  I press the dial button apprehensively, almost regretting what I did in the club.

  “I cannot wait to see you again,” Cassie says. Only a hint of her Italian accent remains.

  “Hey, can you come get me?”

  “Of course,” she responds. “Where are you?”

  “Downtown Norfolk, heading to Yarmouth Avenue. I’ll text you the address.”

  Chapter 3

  Trent

  A half hour passes before Cassie arrives in front of Nate’s Tudor-style town house. She has a fetish for high-end cars. This one I haven’t seen before. She pulls up in a ghostly gray BMW M5 and stops at the curb in front of me. Although I can’t hear the engine above the click of its valve train, I know this car is no anemic sissy. This precision-engineered example of automotive excellence has a five hundred horsepower V10 under the hood. Immediately trumping the sexiness of the car is Cassie. She steps onto the sidewalk, looking impeccable in a red silk shirt and charcoal slacks.

  “My favorite police officer,” she says, rushing to greet me with a hug and kiss. She goes silent, staring at me with her devilish smile and bright-green eyes.

  “Funny, but I’m not a cop.”

  “Oh, come on. You even smell like a cop,” she says, flashing her perfect white teeth for a moment.

  “Still as dry as ever.”

  “And you’re still as sarcastic as ever.” Her smile becomes a mischievous grin. “I’ve missed you.” In her old fashion, she takes my arm and drops the key to her car in my hand.

  “Wow, really? I get to drive this thing?”

  Cassie nods. “Be nice to her. She’s not yet broken in.”

  ***

  We pick up Route 17 bound for Isle of Wight County, and I hardly recognize the area. A hospital, shopping centers, houses everywhere—obviously not the relaxing drive in the country that I remember.

  Civilization begins to thin out the farther down Route 17 we go. I slow down, knowing Cassie’s house is coming up on the left because the massive stone arch of the Nansemond River Bridge draws near. Heavy iron gates glide open automatically, and we idle down a winding gravel road toward her imposing Victorian mansion.

  Designed using a mix of Queen Anne and Gothic styling, it has steep gables and a tower with a highly polished copper roof. Beautifully restored, it looks as though it still exists in another time, just like Cassie. The outbuildings, including an impressive red barn, stand off to the right.

  Cassie meets me at the back of the car while I’m grabbing my bags from the trunk.

  “Are you happy to be home?” she asks above the clicking of her black pointy-toed pumps on the steps of her wraparound porch.

  I shrug. “It wasn’t a total waste. I got to see my daughter and catch up with an old friend.”

  “Older than me?” she asks with a brief flash of jealousy in her voice.

  “No one’s older than you.”

  “Ah, I do miss the vampire jokes,” Cassie says, and shudders when I touch her back. I can feel a thick wrap around the upper portion of her trunk.

  “That old friend is you,” I say and steal a quick peck on her cheek before we pass through the front door.

  I feel like I’m on a home renovation show and it’s time for the big reveal. Classy New England–style furniture fills the living room. White painted wood, vibrant colors, it feels like a summer vacation home, bright and airy. I follow her into the updated kitchen. It’s fully equipped; Cassie could’ve opened an IKEA catalog, put her finger on one of the images, and said yes. The cabinets follow the same color scheme as the living room. There are gray marble countertops and stainless appliances.

  The blonde girl meanders into the kitchen with the chenille blanket still wrapped tight around her. Her eyes are red and puffy from sleeping.

  “You must be Andrea,” I say. Cassie’s lover and live-in donor, I remember.

  She looks at me with a blank expression and nods. “Sorry for my appearance, I’m way behind on sleep.” Her voice is dirty, and the tops of her cheeks are sun-kissed, sprinkled with freckles. She’s athletic… an adorable tomboy. She could be one of those bikini-clad, surfboard-toting Hollister models with messy hair and sand on her ass.

  “Not a problem, I’m the one intruding.”

  Cassie emerges from the staircase in a purple tank top and black yoga pants. The bandage she uses to press down her breasts has obviously been removed.

  “Still wrapping yourself up?” I ask as she gracefully enters the kitchen.

  “Yes.” She says.

  “It’s a shame for such a lovely woman to do that to herself.”

  She walks up and stops, standing a little closer than I would have liked. “After doing it for so long, the habit is hard to kick.” She pauses. “Trent, please feel at home. I don’t know anything about this kitchen, but if you can’t find something, Andrea can show you where it is.”

  “We have everything,” Andrea says. “Ca
n I fix you a drink while I’m up?”

  “Sure, since you’re offering. Jameson, water, and ice in a short glass.”

  “No Jameson, but we have Glenlivet.”

  I shrug.

  “I figured you wouldn’t complain.” Andrea smirks and begins working one-handed, still clutching the blanket with the other.

  Cassie leads me up to a small side bedroom overlooking the pasture. A queen-sized bed of dark cherry and matching nightstands sit on the right, facing tall, narrow windows. Wasting no time, I drop my bags and we make our way back down to the living room.

  Cassie turns and stops before we reach the sofa. Her green eyes study me appreciatively. Andrea sits curled up, dozing on a fawn-colored loveseat. On the coffee table, the drink she made for me sits sweating on a coaster. I grab it and take a sip, pleased that she didn’t water it down too much.

  “So, what’s up?” I ask.

  Cassie remains quiet. Her expression seems hesitant, as though she is resisting the urge to say something. “You look tired, Trent. I think your job is getting the best of you,” she finally says.

  “And you look incredible,” I say, uninterested in talking about my job.

  She smiles, flashing her top and bottom fangs for a moment. “Thank you.”

  “Wow, look at you. Not even worried about showing off the bloodsuckers.”

  Cassie straightens her posture and presses herself into me a little more. “Not around you.”

  Vampires are typically self-conscious about flashing their teeth in front of people; to them, it’s the equivalent of walking around naked in public. It’s always nice to see that Cassie is so comfortable around me, but that’s how it always starts. It doesn’t take long before she gets bored again and chases me off.

  “Don’t pull them out unless you plan to use ’em, sister,” I say, continuing to study her smile. “I’m kidding, please don’t bite me.”

  Her look grows devilish as she steps a little closer, looking up at me. “You might like it.”

  I can feel her cold breath on my neck. “Yeah, last time you said that you broke my arm.”

  The house goes silent for a moment until Cassie erupts with laughter. “I can’t believe I forgot about that!”

  “I’ll never forget. I still have the damn sling at the house.”

  Her laughter turns maniacal but quickly fades.

  “It’s not funny!” I bark, growing irritated.

  “You were becoming a man… God, I had such a crush on you back then,” she says, finally regaining her composure.

  “Jesus, has it been that long since you had a crush?”

  “I’ve got one on you right now, every time you say vampire with that Mississippi twang. Then it turns out to be some shitty joke, so never mind.” Her smirk becomes a toothy grin, and she flashes her fangs freely.

  I slide over toward her, smiling. “Vampire,” I purr, accentuating my vaguely southern accent.

  “Oh, quit it!” She laughs and gives me an affectionate slap on the chest, which stings a little more than I’m sure she intended.

  “I still don’t see what’s so funny.”

  “Oh, don’t get cranky. How is your house looking?”

  “It’s still rough. I’m having to work on it little by little, limited funds and all.”

  “Well, what have you done so far?”

  “Nothing you’d be interested in.”

  “So, nothing aesthetic.”

  “I had a main sewer line break in the ceiling over my kitchen. The iron pipe rusted through one night. I was running the water in the tub on the second floor to flush out the pipes. I got distracted, came back forty minutes later, and found a huge mess.”

  “That’s horrible luck. When will you have me down?”

  “Anytime you want. I have a room that’s dark enough for you.”

  “How funny would that be? A vampire houseguest at the home of the infamous hunter?” She adds extra emphasis on the words infamous hunter for double the sarcasm.

  “You know I hate being called that. I feel like I belong in a comic book.”

  “Well, you do look awfully superhuman when you use that sword.”

  I hiss my disapproval. “Your tip paid off.”

  “Did you ever doubt me?”

  “Of course not, you’ve always come through, but why do you sell out your own kind?”

  “I will only do it for you, but if they are causing trouble for your kind, it’s trouble for me as well. We elders simply want to exist. I rarely kill anymore, and the reckless young ones are what will have my kind in concentration camps if they go unchecked.”

  “Good point.”

  She smiles. “Why are we standing? Have a seat. Get comfortable.” Her words come out with a soothing tone, rolling off her tongue like honey. I comply without question, feeling warm and relaxed now. She leads me to the couch and sits beside me, inching so close that our thighs touch. Her brown hair is thick and wavy; her eyes are like faceted emeralds. Suddenly, I realize she is using her charms on me.

  “Are you going to kill me now?” I ask as though on autopilot.

  She closes her eyes and looks away, and I come back like I’ve reentered the room, stepped out of a vacuum. “I am sorry.”

  “Cassie has a problem with that on occasion,” Andrea mumbles, not even bothering to open her eyes.

  “It always freaks me out when you do that, but I kinda like it.”

  She leans into me again and I sit back. “Well, if you like it,” she says with more sweet words, and my mind opens up to another world. I’m descending into a warm dark pool, deeper and deeper, but I can still breathe, drunk on her overwhelming talents. “Damn. You should be a controlled substance.” I sigh, knowing a vampire is about to bite me and drink my blood, and caring even less.

  “So it’s okay?” She laughs, throwing a leg over mine and straddling my lap. Her cool hand touches my chest, sending energy radiating outward like ripples on a still pond.

  “Just keep doing what you’re doing.” With weak hands, I explore her upper thighs, then past her hips and under her shirt, holding her bare waist. She gasps when I pull her close.

  “You are a beautiful man,” she whispers, undoing my ponytail and playing with my black hair before tilting my head and descending on my neck, biting gently.

  I feel a pop as my skin tears a little. It stings, but it’s immediately masked by intense waves of pleasure, as she begins to suckle. Like a leech, or a baby nursing? I can’t decide which. All my cares slip away into nothing; my mind wanders and spins. I’m helpless under her spell.

  Cassie gasps when my fingers graze her cool flat stomach. Wanting more, my hands travel to her back and slide under the waistband of her skintight yoga pants, filling with her backside.

  She sits back with an expression of pure euphoria and runs her tongue across her bloodstained teeth. She looks back at Andrea, still sleeping on the couch.

  “Behave yourself, Trent,” she says with a shaky voice and then pulls my hands from her pants. She bites her finger and reaches for my neck to heal the wounds with her own blood, but I stop her.

  “I see you’re keeping it safe,” I say, playing with the heavy silver chain of a necklace I gave her long ago.

  “With my life. It means more to me than any of my other possessions.” Her legs tremble as she climbs off my lap and sits, facing me sideways on the couch.

  “Good.” I clear my throat. “That was intense, and you are a tease.” I grab my drink and suck down half of it.

  “I have a job for you,” she says.

  “Wow, this is a first.”

  “Yes, but you are perfect for the task.”

  “Well, let’s hear it.”

  “Dante’s, I need you to go in and retrieve something for me.”

  “You can walk in the day.”

  She collects her hair and flips it over her left shoulder. “Aw, do you need me to hold your hand?”

&
nbsp; I hiss. “What am I retrieving?”

  “A small charm made of rusted metal. It has a braid of white hair wrapped around it. Raoul has it. He’ll keep it close, most likely in his pocket.”

  “That would be Leila’s—”

  She nods before I finish my question. “I need it to be you because, right now, I haven’t revealed anything regarding my plans. You know what vampires can see when they feed.”

  “Whatever’s on your mind, yeah.”

  “Well, I need you to remain ignorant for now.”

  “I see where you’re going, but I’m not letting you keep me in the dark forever.”

  “I promise I will tell you everything soon.”

  “When do I go in?”

  “I would say tomorrow morning, but I still have things to do. So, I’m thinking the day after.”

  “Done. Can I kill him?”

  “You seriously hate him, don’t you?”

  “I hate most vampires.”

  “Get in and get out. Bento will be guarding him.”

  “And I should be scared of that idiot because…?”

  She smirks and gives me a kiss on the cheek.

  “Can I at least Sharpie something on Raoul’s forehead?”

  She shrugs, and crosses her arms. “Help yourself.”

  I set my empty glass on the table, ready for another. “Oh, I’m definitely in.”

  Cassie laughs. “You are absolutely adorable. Remember how I looked back when we found each other again?”

  “Denver. Of course, I do. That was before, when you were still in hiding. You were trying to look like a boy, covering up your chest like you still do, making that hourglass figure of yours look a bit pear-shaped. But you were still just as cute back then, even with that cropped hair you had,” I say.

  Back then, she reminded me of the neighborhood tomboy who played baseball with all the boys and then after the game would make out with you in your treehouse. I was passing through at the time, doing some work for a small local coven, and there she was. I almost didn’t recognize her.

  “Which do you prefer?” she asks.

  “Now you’re just trying to get me in trouble,” I say, while admiring her feminine curves paired like a fine wine with her green eyes and long thick hair, the colors of chocolate and caramel.