by S. L. Eaves
“They do bottle service here, who knew,” I smile.
“Figure this will let us talk uninterrupted,” he pours two generous glasses.
“So Director Abrams here in the flesh, doing field work, this must rank pretty high on the priority list at the moment.” I ignore the glass as he sets it in front of me. I’m trying to read his expression. After a moment of starring into his own glass he finally makes eye contact.
“Before we get into this I'd like to clear the air. It's been awhile and given how we left things you'd probably have preferred it be awhile longer.”
His phone vibrates and he reaches in his pocket to silence it.
“I want you to know that I came clean about everything that happened at Trion. The final debriefing and files all state the truth about Owen. I don't know why I tried to cover it up. Honestly, the operation had gone to shit. I guess I was just trying to salvage some of my dignity. But it shouldn't have been at your expense. I made sure your name was cleared.”
“Well, I suppose I should say thank—”
“Don't. I don't deserve it.”
“The fear of repercussions from your agency was part of the reason I went off the grid these past few years. Though now that I know the scope of your reach it seems pretty pointless.”
“I'm sorry, for everything.” His tone is sincere.
“Apology accepted. Seems to have worked out okay for you in the end. I mean you're still working for them, right?”
“They transferred and demoted me. I've been gradually working my way back up the ranks again.”
“You're sitting in a dive bar with a vampire, clearly you haven't been working hard enough.” I jest.
That gets a smile. “So...tell me what the DIA has on these vampire attacks?”
“I take it you're aware that several cities have been hit with a string of suspicious deaths recently? Bodies have been found with bite marks, drained of blood. Any public reports are looking to cult activities to explain the circumstances. We both know better.”
I nod. He sips his drink and continues.
“Some recent evidence suggests that these killings have been going on for months in small towns. But these have been harder to uncover. Cities have more resources to aid investigators; more surveillance, greater chance of witnesses, and overall more exposure which plays to our advantage.
“For instance, we’ve had zero luck uncovering any videos of victims the night of the attacks in rural towns. These small town late night haunts aren’t big on recording what goes on there. No credible witnesses have come forward either, just a few nut jobs who claim to have seen the devil.
“But L.A.? Jackpot. A few hours of pulling footage of the nightclub near where that couple was killed and we’ve got a vampire on film leaving the back room they were found in.
“Then you saw what we captured just last night. There are cameras everywhere in this city. Our facial recognition software combs through thousands of cameras and hours of footage in minutes.”
“Nowhere to hide.”
He sits back and smiles. “Ironic that being accused of killing your own kind for the agency was what got you in so much hot water way back when.”
If someone were to tally human to wolf to vampire deaths on my hands the count would be about even. I’m not sure how I feel about that, but I probably should feel something.
“Yeah it's not lost on me, that’s for sure. My kind has always preferred to live in the shadows. This new strain of vampires wants to disrupt the harmonious balance the rest of us work extremely hard to preserve. Some of us for centuries. If we don't stop them soon it's going to get much worse. Believe it or not it endangers us as much as it endangers your species.”
As if just remembering the drink, I down it in one gulp. Abrams pours another round.
“I believe it. The exposure is bad. Mass panic. Neither side wants this to turn into a public spectacle. I can already see hordes of Satanist running around with fake vampire teeth and people staking their neighbors because they’re acting suspicious. We need to contain it. And fast.”
“Agreed. We’re on the same side here. But – and this is the part where we are bound to disagree – you have to call off your people. Humans interfering will be dangerous. For them. This is an internal conflict and we will handle it. Your men start going after vampires, we’re going to have an issue.
“Because they go after the right vampires, they have a chance at being killed, but they go after the wrong vampires and they’re definitely going to be killed. It’s that simple. You do not want to make enemies with my clan.”
Abrams sits back and sighs.
“I don’t know how I can sell that to the agency.”
“They authorized you to work with vampires before, right? And the way you guys operated, I doubt I was the first vampire you brought inside. Sell them on my team. Tell them you’ve got vampires who are much better equipped for such situations handling on behalf of the agency. Keeps your men out of danger. Keeps them out of our way. You need me to call in from time to time with an update, fine, that’s doable.
“It’s not my problem how you sell it. But I can’t have some operatives shooting arrows at me while I’m hunting down the real threat. Hell, another minutes alone with Crina and you wouldn't be walking out of that parking garage. Tensions are running high right now. There's already hunters out there. That’s what brought this whole mess to my attention to begin with.
“We're beyond the asking questions first stage. And I expect your agents will act in the same fashion. They certainly won’t be stopping to ask the vampires which side they’re on.”
Abrams nods. “Fair point. I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thanks. Believe it or not I'm trying to mitigate the amount of blood spilled.”
“So do you know anything about these vampires?”
I shake my head and take a moment to let the scotch burn my throat before I continue.
“Not much...yet...we're doing our own investigating. My clan is focusing on attacks here and in Nevada where there seems to be base of some sort outside Vegas. We expect to have more on that soon.
“I can tell you they are turning others, not just killing. So they’re expanding their footprint which is also concerning. It's considered an act of rebellion amongst my kind to turn without permission from the demons who created us. Moreover, these killings are for fun as much as they are survival. If they wanted to survive without drawing attention they'd be looting hospitals. It's as if they want the attention.”
“Jesus. Why?”
I shrug. “If I knew the answer to that we'd be having a different conversation right now. One thing is for sure, it’s going to get a hell of a lot uglier before this is all over.”
A thought occurs to me.
“Actually, I may have something to keep your agency busy while we’re eradicating the fangy miscreants.”
“Dare I ask?”
“Striden's alive.”
I study Abrams’ reaction.
“Striden.” His tone is even, unalarmed.
“You already know?” I lean back, my eyes narrow, arms folded.
He hesitates, “Yes. After the explosion in L.A. we never recovered his body. We ID’d his brother and several associates, including the helicopter pilot. Given the nature of the incident – it was possible the explosion didn’t leave us with anything to identify, but unlikely.
“Then a couple years later we got an alert. Security camera picked him up at a train station in France. France has extradition so we did alert French authorities, but nothing ever came of it. Trail ran cold. He’s not considered a high value target and unless he sets foot on American soil, our hands are pretty much tied.”
“The fuck you mean he’s not a high value target?! He’s a mass murderer who blew up buildings in several major cities.”
Abrams holds up his hand, motions for me to calm down. I oblige, turning my focus to my drink while the fire in my eyes subsides.
“A terrorist group oversees took credit for the explosions. We have zero evidence linking him to any homicides on US soil. The most we have – or should I say had, as the federal statute of limitations is five to ten years – is arms dealing, weapons trafficking and money laundering. And several FTC violations on his pharma company. For the most part, the statute of limitations is up or close to being up for those charges.”
“You’re shitting me.”
“My hands are tied. Besides, you really want him brought in on charges?”
“Not the point.”
“For what it’s worth, when he turned up alive in Europe I would have contacted you had I known how to reach you.”
“What if I told you he is on American soil. Here in Los Angeles roaming the streets. Would that change anything?”
He takes a deep breath, contemplates, and pours himself another drink.
“He's really in town?”
I nod.
“Shit. Do you have evidence? Proof? Anything I can bring to my department?”
After pondering for a moment, I say, “Well no, nothing tangible. But he's trying to kill me so it's fair to assume I can get you evidence. It just might be in the form of my ashes.”
He tilts his head while swirling the caramel-colored booze.
Pressing further, “You’re the ones with the big brother cameras everywhere. Can't you find him?”
“I'll definitely put my team on it. See what we can uncover...You think he has something to do with the vampire attacks? The timing doesn't seem to be coincidental.”
“It would be a stretch. As easy as it is to blame him for all the problems in my world, it's not likely. He despises vampires. He's worked with them before when it was advantageous, but he wouldn't want to grow their numbers.” I try to imagine what he could gain. I’m also well aware someone gave him my address. So maybe he is consorting with vampires. However, that is not Abrams’ business at the moment.
“I'm also too deep in this to see the big picture. I mean it certainly serves as a distraction. Diverts our attention while he's executing whatever plan he's got in store…it’s a flimsy theory at best. My money is on no.”
“So other than a personal vendetta, he hasn't indicated why he's elected to resurface now then?”
I shake my head.
“Why would he tell you, right?”
“If say... hypothetically...I know a couple survivors of his human trials that could testify against him. Would that change anything?”
“It could. I think it would come down to what they can testify to and if there's evidence to support their accusations.” Lowering his voice, “You really know survivors? Are they wolves?”
“Let's put a pin in that for now. I would prefer not to use them as leverage against Striden. They've been through enough. I was just thinking out loud.”
“Alright.” He pours us another round. The bottle is about kicked.
“We don't want him brought to trial anyways, though it would get him out of our hair...” I consider. “I'm thinking more along the lines of using their accusations as a way to bring about new charges and justify going after him.”
“Define ‘going after’. I can't help you kill him.”
“Can't or won't?” I can see him wrestling with how to answer. Killing him would be easy to cover up.
Is he worried about repercussions? Does he want the collar on his record?
I concede, “If you were to bring him in. Is your department equipped to hold a werewolf?”
“Yes,” he affirms without hesitation.
Bring him in… sheesh… since I’ve known he survived the only image in my mind involved me putting a silver blade through his heart.
“It bothers me how quickly you answered that.”
I take out a cigarette, tap it on the table for a minute then slide it behind my ear.
“And if we helped you the goal would be to capture him alive,” Abrams sighs into his drink, “But you want us to help you take him out don't you?”
“He's too dangerous not to kill.”
“The facilities at my disposal…we could make the remaining years of his life hell. I think you would be pleased.”
Again, not comforted by that.
“So you'll put some heat on him? I help you eliminate these problematic vampires, you help me track down Striden.”
Abrams nods, takes a flip phone from his pocket, and slides it across the table.
“So I can reach you. My number is programmed in it, too.”
“It has a location tracker doesn't it?”
“Maybe.” He smirks. “Bit more efficient than camera footage.”
“Wouldn't want to make things too easy for ya.” I wink at him but pocket the phone all the same.
“Somehow I doubt you ever will.”
Abrams finishes his drink and buttons his suit jacket, “Speaking of, I have some agents I need to check on. We good here?”
“Yeah.” I slide the cigarette from my ear. “Trick will be to keep it that way.”
Chapter 20
Haley and Zach are exiting the club as I approach. They shake their heads when they see me.
“Nothing?”
“There’s a strip club down the street we can check out,” Hailey offers. “Lots of fake names, bad lighting, and back rooms make for easy prey.”
“I’m sure. But don't they usually have a lot of cameras, too?”
Crina emerges from a side door, a disgusted look on her face.
“The sheer volume of sweat-stained clothes and rancid cologne makes me homicidal. And I don’t even have to breathe. Ugh. I get why vampires are losing their shit on these people. It’s gross in there,” she proclaims as she walks over.
“Then you’re really not going to like Hailey’s suggestion on where to go next…”
“I’d be fine with calling it a night. I have to work tomorrow.” Zach checks his watch.
Something occurs to me. “Actually, I have an idea.”
A short while later Zach pulls his car up to the address I’d given them. Crina and I are waiting to greet them at the entrance to my warehouse.
I'd updated her on my conversation with Abrams while we waited. She's less than pleased at all the information I disclosed about Striden, but without Jiro and with her clan focusing elsewhere she admits it could prove advantageous to have them track him down for us. If they share intel with us, which she's right to doubt.
The panel recognizing my thumbprint, I slide the heavy door open, flick on the lights and escort them into my home gym.
“Whoa…” Zach exclaims, looking less bored by the second.
It takes the lights a while to warm up, but even in the dim lighting it’s easy to see this is not your average warehouse. Even Crina looks amused if not slightly impressed.
“You planning to audition for America Ninja Warrior?” Hailey jokes as she grabs a pull-up bar and does a couple of reps.
I cross to the lockers along the far wall, remove the contents and set them down on the dusty table I’d stood at with Vega not long ago.
“If you guys are serious about hunting, I figure it might be wise to learn your way around more than just a piece of wood.”
They all pause briefly from trying out the makeshift gym equipment and join me around the table, staring at the small but notable collection of guns I’ve laid out.
Crina picks up a Glock and examines it.
“Clean, good balance, not bad.” She studies it, then picks up another and does the same.
“So this isn’t just a homemade parkour course, you’ve got a gun range in here too?” Hailey asks.
“Bags of sand with targets at the far end. Plenty of ammo. No earplugs, but there's a few suppressors.”
Neither Hailey nor Zach look all that eager to pick up a weapon.
“You guys have shot a gun before right?”
Hailey hesitates. “You saw my weapons chest. Crosses and stakes. And a bow I’ve tested a few times in my back yard.”
/>
She looks to Zach who nods in agreement.
“I’ve been trying to avoid getting sucked up into all this, so no stopping at the gun range after a normal workday hasn’t been on the agenda.” He sighs, adding, “But the way things are going lately, it can’t hurt to learn my way around a gun.”
“Good.” Crina gestures at the table. “Each of you pick one…or two…and let’s get started then.”
“We should be charging for this,” she mumbles in my ear as she passes.
She’s going to act like it’s a burden, but no one is more at home here than her. She's not much for training, but I can tell by her efforts to mask her enthusiasm that she's enjoying this chance to school them.
“Just don’t shoot them,” I whisper back.
Right now I'm just happy to have them under our watch, and on my turf. I don't care if they learn anything about shooting tonight, my goal is for us to function like a makeshift team. For that to happen, we need to learn to trust on another. This is my idea of a bonding exercise, whether they realize it or not.
Chapter 21
Rex and Xan join the group of vampires gathering around the arena. Metalcore plays in the background. A door on the giant wire enclosure swings open across from where they're standing. Dade steps inside the arena, paces the perimeter, when he reaches them he stops and leans over.
“Where's Quinn?”
“Back at the bar,” Rex points over his shoulder. “I think she disapproves.”
“I'm doing this for her. For us.” Dade huffs, looks out past the crowd. “And maybe a little for me. Guess I need to get this over with quickly so I can start working my way outta the doghouse.”
The music stops and Nico's voice chimes in over the loud speakers.
“Everyone ready for tonight's cage match? Tonight we've got four fighters on the card. First up is Dade. New to the cause, but I'm told he's old blood from Europe and has numerous lycan kills under his belt. Let's see how he fares against our reigning champion.”
The crowd, seemingly growing by the minute, reacts with cheers and whistling. Many raise their glasses. Nico revels in their energy for a minute before continuing.
