“Maybe the traitor is a deleter and she erased their minds. Maybe it’s one traitor per Coven.”
Rebecca seemed to like his theories, “You mean, make them forget all of their lives? Turn them into a vegetable? Is that possible? It would make sense to say there’s more than one bad apple, too. Makes perfect sense. But, Will said there was just one traitor. How did he find that out, do you think?”
“I have no idea.”
“Fair enough. What else is there?” Rebecca needed more information. Outside, they were now close enough to the city to see the buildings in the distance. Soon they would get to the airport to go their separate ways. Rebecca would go to Virginia and Dylan to Texas. It would be the first time Rebecca went on a mission without Dylan and she didn’t seem worried at all about her safety or performance. It was another proof she'd grown more confident in her abilities… and herself.
“There are the atmokinetics, they control the weather,” Dylan listed the other kinds of witches that existed. “The ghosts, who can become invisible. Then, there are the telekinetics.”
“They can move things with their minds, right?”
“Yes, that’s what that means.”
She looked surprised. “Cool, I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Anything is possible,” Dylan said.
This new information gave Rebecca the fuel to continue, “A telekinetic sounds powerful, right? She could freeze everyone and then hurt them one by one. Or take them someplace hostage.”
Dylan considered this. “She could. Although telekinetics spend energy whenever they use their power, too… it’s like running around, how far can you get before you get tired.”
“What if you are training for a marathon?” Rebecca suggested. “Does that mean witches get more stamina whenever they practice with their abilities?”
“I don’t know,” Dylan sighed. “Wrong example, I suppose.”
Rebecca exhaled in frustration, “Dylan, if you’ve worked with witches for decades, don’t you think you should know more about them?”
“I hunt werewolves,” he clarified in his defense. “I’m not a witch expert. Besides, these women are very private, they don’t appreciate vampires meddling in their affairs. From what I hear, most are afraid of us and they only help us because of Victoria.”
Realization came to Rebecca’s face. “So what happens when Victoria dies?”
“Then Lucius will need to create strong relations with the next Head Witch. He’ll negotiate with her and they'll come to an understanding. It’s his job. It's what he's good at. He makes these things happen.”
“What if he can’t?”
Dylan couldn’t even imagine that. “He’s done it for centuries, so I wouldn’t worry. It’s one of the reasons he’s our director. He's the one making deals with the humans and the witches, creating goodwill, and making them see how we can all help each other.”
“We owe him a lot, then,” she said.
“Here’s another thought,” Dylan changed the subject after he came to another conclusion. “What if the traitor is a witch who knows how the Covens work, who they are and where they are, and she passed this information to the werewolves? Then it is all up to the werewolves to do the killing.”
“You think the werewolves attacked the Covens?”
“Why not?”
“Wouldn’t we have gotten reports of deaths by mauling by now?” She was right, they would have known. “Or… What if the bodies haven’t been found yet?” That meant Rebecca now believed all those witches to be dead.
“We will find out soon enough,” he told her. By now Dylan was driving his car in the middle of Nashville’s traffic. The airport was only a few more miles away.
October 19th, 2000
3:45 P.M.
She had never been to Virginia before. In the short span of her life, Rebecca had only visited and lived in two other states. Her favorite one had to be New York City. During the time she'd lived there, when she'd been so close to fulfilling her dream of becoming a dancer, she'd been so focused on her goal that she had never ventured anywhere else outside the island. She’d known her apartment, the ballet company, and a few shops around her neighborhood. Life in New York had been good. Museums were expensive, and she didn’t have a lot to spend, yet she had still visited them as frequently as she could and went to Broadway when she could spare a few dollars even if it meant skipping a meal. It was New York, the city that never slept. A city with so much to see. If only she had invested time and money in enjoying more of the attractions, like visiting the Statue of Liberty or gotten up the Empire State Building.
Landing in Virginia, she stepped out of the airplane looking around the unfamiliar airport. When she’d been human she’d never gone on a real vacation. There were a lot of airports she didn’t know, a lot of places she'd never been. As she dragged her carry-on bag around the terminal, she felt a sense of freedom. For the first time, she could go wherever she wanted. Visit as many places as she dared. All those places that had once been unreachable were now at her fingertips. All she had to do was book a plane ticket, and she’d be there. Immortality was a great gift, there was no doubt about that. Yet, all Dylan wanted to hunt werewolves? Would he even join her in her future adventures?
She rolled her suitcase heading to the rental car area. They’d given her a choice between getting a taxi or renting a car. Perhaps before, she’d want someone to drive her around through the unknown roads; now she wanted her independence. There wasn’t anything she couldn’t do and she wanted to do it all.
Rebecca knew she'd changed. She was changing. She wondered how much of her new personality Dylan could see and if he still enjoyed her company as he claimed. Sure, they were great werewolf hunters together. He probably loved that. Ever since she'd learned she was more than capable of defeating werewolves with her bare hands, she had become a worthy partner to the greatest werewolf hunter alive. She knew Dylan was proud of her, proud he had chosen her. Every time she glanced in his direction in the middle of a battle she could recognize the sparkle in his eyes, the pride of having her by his side was evident.
He liked her wild side, she knew that. But, was that all he wanted? Was that all she was going to be for him? He seemed to believe all he could be was a werewolf hunter. Nothing else. To live and sleep for those few moments when the stakes were higher and they were fighting to the death.
Not that the stakes were ever that high when they were together. Those werewolves didn’t stand a chance.
Lining up at the rental car agency with all those oblivious human beings felt so normal. She wasn't around humans often. Not anymore. Now she stood in line surrounded by them and was glad none of them knew what she was. Their ignorance was for the best. While she envied their normality she glowed with a hidden superiority. Yes, they were free to go and do what they wanted; free to work, fall in love, and live wherever it was best for them. But she was powerful and immortal.
Besides, wasn’t she, too, free?
Right there, she decided to stop being chained to the vampire agency. Her job couldn’t be her life. She was more than a werewolf hunter and she was adamant to have Dylan join her in her adventures. All the places they could visit, all the experiences they could have together. It would be glorious.
The man behind the counter called her. She showed him her driver’s license and signed a few papers before they gave her the key to her rental car. Thanking him, she walked to wait for the bus that would take her to the car lot.
As she got on the half-full bus, she thought about Dylan again. What if he didn’t want to go where she did? What if all he wanted was to be a werewolf hunter? Would she take Will with her instead? Would that be wise?
It didn’t matter if she went with someone or if she needed to go alone, she would end up going wherever she felt like going. She smiled at her own thoughts. She could hardly wait. For now, she had a job to do and she was going to excel at it.
October 19th, 2000
4:1
2 P.M.
Fall meant colder temperatures in Virginia. The weather was perhaps a few degrees cooler than the average Tennessee weather, so she had come prepared. Rebecca’s suit jacket was enough to keep her warm. It had not always been so. When she'd still been human she’d be freezing in October, now that she was a vampire it meant her body temperature was lower and her metabolism controlled changes in a more efficient manner. Every day she became more used to the little differences; every day, they were becoming the new normal. Perhaps she was now more comfortable being a vampire than she ever felt as a human.
She took out the list they gave her with the names and addresses of all the witches in The Virginia Coven. Scanning the list before turning the rental car’s engine on, she decided the closest address to her location was in a small town thirty minutes south of Richmond’s International Airport. It was there where atmokinetic Taylor Andrews, a thirty-seven-year-old teacher, lived. The eleven witches on her list just happened to live less than an hour away from Richmond, Virginia, which made her think their headquarters had to be around that area, as well. They lived, however, very much apart from each other, making Rebecca wonder if the witches had any saying on where they could live their lives or if it was all planned out for them. Perhaps by strategically placing the witches far from each other, they could cover more ground. Although, if every Coven had two or three teleporters, it didn’t make much sense. Perhaps each witch chose where they wanted to live, and in Virginia, it was just a coincidence they ended up living apart. It made her wonder how different their lives were to the ones of the vampire agents.
There was a dark cloud up ahead, which darkened the skies prematurely. Soon the rain started, and although it was more like a drizzle, it made the drive harder for someone who didn’t know how to get to where she was going.
Rebecca had to stop at a gas station to gather her bearings and make sure she was going in the right direction. Once she’d gotten advice from the store clerk, she was again on the right road to the quiet neighborhood where Taylor Andrews lived.
School was out for the day, but the rain had turned the streets into empty and wet roads. It was an old neighborhood, Rebecca could tell, with many cars parked on both sides of the road. Rebecca reached her destination, an old but charming home with pink siding and many potted plants on the front porch.
Killing the engine, she ventured to the dreary neighborhood running out of the car until she found cover from the rain under Taylor Andrews’s covered porch.
Rebecca rang the doorbell. Nothing. She tried knocking. Nothing.
After a few more attempts, she walked down the long covered porch until she reached a window that allowed her to see inside the house. There was movement - the cats Ms. Andrews owned roamed about the living room as if they owned the place. Rebecca had never been too fond of cats, but wondered how long they'd been left alone inside. Taylor Andrews was a teacher, and she should have been home from work already, shouldn’t she?
Then again, Rebecca remembered the elementary school teachers from her old town stayed late some evenings, perhaps this was the case with Ms. Andrews. Or, perhaps she'd received a call from her Coven, or she'd dined out. Any of those options sounded much better than thinking about her cold, dead body somewhere.
Looking around, Rebecca noticed the lights were on in the house next door with people moving about inside. Making her way there, she knocked on the front door. By now she was all wet and miserable with her gray suit and shoes soaked; she was sure her hair looked terrible, too. There wasn’t much she could do about it while she waited for the door to open.
A middle-aged woman opened the door. There was something that resembled fear in her eyes as she looked at her. “Yes?” she asked, careful.
“Hello,” Rebecca attempted a smile. “My name is Rebecca Sawyer and I’m from the FBI,” she showed the woman her badge. “I’m here looking for Taylor Andrews, your neighbor?” The lady looked at her as if she'd just seen a ghost. “The school teacher?” prompted Rebecca. Since all the woman did was stare at her, she continued, “Have you seen her?”
At last, the woman opened her mouth to speak, “Is this more about Taylor being killed yesterday, miss?”
“Killed?” Rebecca sounded surprised, although she’d feared as much.
“Yes, it happened at her school. Yesterday morning,” she explained. “The police came to ask me questions earlier today. But, you’re from the FBI, you say?”
“I am,” Rebecca replied.
Out of the blue, the woman began to cry. It was clear she hadn’t meant to do it, but Taylor Andrews must have meant more to her than just a neighbor. “I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this twice in one day.”
Rebecca considered her options. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs…”
“Miss Green,” the old woman was quick to correct her.
“Ms. Green,” Rebecca echoed. “I imagine the police are looking for the killer.”
Ms. Green looked up through red eyes, shaking her head. “They wanted to know if someone had any ill will towards Taylor, but I told them she was a peach, just a peach.”
Rebecca assumed Ms. Green had no idea what Taylor Andrews truly was. She probably didn't know she had the power to control the weather, either. In fact, she wondered how long it had been raining in her neighborhood since the witch had been killed. Perhaps the weather itself was mourning her death. Was that even possible?
“I'm sorry for your loss,” Rebecca told the woman again.
“Thank you,” Ms. Green said between sobs.
“Just… just one more question. Please, Ms. Green?” The woman reluctantly agreed to answer with a nod. “Just, how did she die?”
More tears came out before the woman said, “Someone cut her throat! With a knife!” The woman lost control, sobbing louder than before. Rebecca knew it would be a moot point to continue with any further questioning. She had been lucky to get an answer to that question at all.
“I won’t bother you any further, ma’am,” Rebecca curtsied. “Have a good day.”
With nothing else to do there, Rebecca ran down to her car to finish getting wet. Inside, she watched Ms. Green close her front door through her mirror. Then, she took one last look at Taylor Andrews’s house, wondering if anyone planned to do something about those cats.
It wasn't her job. The police would investigate further, there may be clues in the house to help them solve this particular crime. Was it strange there wasn’t any sign of police forensics in the house? Rebecca knew there were a lot of things she still didn’t know about police procedure. There was a lot she still needed to learn about the law and law enforcement. No matter how well she was at fighting werewolves, there was much more to being a member of NAVSA than met the eye.
The rain kept falling on her windshield when she made the call.
“Hey,” she said after she heard his voice on the recording. She'd hoped his flight had landed, but it seemed it was still in the air. “Taylor Andrews is dead. She was killed yesterday at her school. I’m heading to the station now to see what else I can find out. Give me a call whenever you can.”
The call ended. Rebecca took a deep breath before starting the car again.
October 19th, 2000
5:28 P.M.
By the time Dylan Torrence’s flight landed in the Dallas/Fort Worth airport, he had five messages waiting. The first one was from vampire hunter Bryan Bell. He'd been sent to check the Tennessee Coven; his first stop, the hospital. The report hadn’t been positive.
A few weeks ago, when Will came forward as the informant the vampire agency was feeding on for the last twenty years, the werewolves suspected his betrayal and implanted several trackers on him. Dylan and Rebecca took him to a safe house code-named The Pecan, where he told his story in front of several key members of the agency, amongst them vampires and witches. One of those witches was a young woman named Jasmine Powell, a teleporter who helped several of them escape when the werewolves attacked the safe-house witho
ut warning. It hadn't ended well for her. When the witch went beyond her teleporting limit, it put her into a coma.
Since that night, Jasmine became a sleeping patient at Nashville General Hospital. According to Bryan, the hospital reported a peculiar death. The nurse who filed the report claimed someone entered Jasmine’s room a few seconds after she’d finished with the patient’s daily visit; the stranger had locked the door, slit Jasmine’s door, and then vanished. Just like that, out of thin air.
A teleporter had done that.
But, which one? According to Lucius, there were only a few teleporters still safe. They were not only accounted for, but also had solid alibis.
Next, he listened to a message from his own partner, Rebecca. Apparently, a similar thing had happened in Virginia. In Rebecca’s message, she explained about a school teacher who'd been killed just the day before when an unknown entity came into her classroom, cut her throat, and then vanished without a trace. No matter how many times the staff and police had looked over the security cameras, no one could identify an attacker - nor any stranger inside the building. They hadn't seen anyone getting in or out of the teacher’s room. No explanation. Like this case, Rebecca later described other murders in the area where the killer could have been a spirit, or a ghost.
Similar reports had come from Thomas in Manhattan and Marian in Florida. A knife used by an unknown entity who didn’t seem to have any means inside or out had murdered all the witches on the list. He didn’t expect different stories from Zack or Melinda, who’d gone to check the California and Arizona Covens, respectively, and when he heard their messages, they confirmed his theory.
The Fall of Witchcraft Page 6
