The Blood Born Tales (Book 2): Blood Dream

by T. C. Elofson

  “The Overseers wanted her blood,” he began again.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know why. Not really, but I have my suspicions.”

  “Go on, Agent.”

  “I think it’s because of what she used to be.”

  “What? A vampire?” Kat asked with a little laugh. And Joe caught a feeling of doubt in her. Of course, she was a hardnosed cop. There was no reason she should believe a word of what she was hearing. But Joe also could sense a glint of need in her eyes. A need for the truth. Was she ready to hear it? Or would she be just as skeptical of that too?

  “Yes, Detective. A true vampire. They did exist.”

  “‘Did’?”

  “Up until last winter when your partner’s friend and the woman I stole the blood from destroyed the first vampire. That act caused the death of countless vampires across the world and turned many others back to their human selves.”

  “How is it you know about any of this?”

  “Government records.”

  “What?”

  “Yes, Tim Anderson, Detective Johnson’s last partner, told the whole tale to the FBI.”

  Kat fell silent. Her eyes were quivering with disbelief. Joe could almost see her attempting to work through everything she had just heard.

  “Vampires are real?” she asked again.

  “I guess so. I never really believed in them myself.”

  “Why now?”

  “I have seen many things since my time with the Overseers.”

  “What else can you tell me?”

  “Detective, I really think that…”

  Just then Joe stopped talking as his attention caught a flash of something. He was on his feet. His gun was sitting on the edge of Kat’s kitchen counter. In seconds, he was on it and had the slide back.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” Kat demanded as she raised her gun to him.

  “Someone’s coming.”

  “What?” she stated and looked to the door. But when she looked back to Joe, he was gone, vanished in the blink of her eye.

  Chapter 51

  10:30 p.m., May 6

  I am supposed to handle any sight, any image—anything—without flinching. I was trained to not react to horror the way normal people do. It is… no, it was my job to reconstruct a scene without feeling emotion. But when Kenny fell ill I forgot all of that. I forgot about all my training. I forgot all about Merric. I forgot everything but Kenny. I sat next to the lump of heavy breathing. I could feel Kenny coming out of his sickness slightly. His mind was beginning to wake. I could feel him stirring in his thoughts which were not a comfort for me. Much had been spinning around in that head of his in the last few moments, but now he seemed to have come back to me. His breathing had returned to a somewhat calmer rhythm and his pulse had come down greatly. He moaned and brought his large mitt up to shade his eyes from the white light of a lamp. Reaching up, I turned the small reading lamp away from him and spoke.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “Good, man. I’m all good.”

  His efforts to reassure me left a wake of foreboding as his words disappeared into the darkness behind us. Kenny looked at me and it was one of the rare times I had ever seen a hint of tears in my tolerant, East Coast friend. But he was quickly attempting to play it off. He had his armor up and I could see it already.

  “Really, Kenny, be straight with me.”

  “I’m in pain, okay? That’s how I’m doing. My head feels like I got a concussion.”

  “You want some Advil?” I asked and got up from my seat, heading over to my desk where I always had Advil on hand.

  “No thanks, Dr. House,” Kenny said, sitting up in the bed. “So demons, huh?”

  “Yeah,” I came back at him taking my seat once more. “Whatever happened to the good old days of chasing after some piece of shit that just mugged some old lady?”

  “I don’t know. So what happened again?”

  I could tell Kenny still felt a little disoriented.

  “You don’t know? You collapsed, started convulsing on my living room floor. Whatever has a hold on you, you need to fight it.”

  “What if it’s stronger than me?”

  “Nothing is stronger than you, Kenny. I know how strong you are, man. I’ve always known. You need to fight.”

  At that Kenny gave a little laugh and turned from me.

  “What?” I asked with more than an irritated tone.

  “I feel like I’m in the middle of some dumb chick flick.”

  And just like that his defenses were back on, deflecting me. Only silence followed. He turned his gaze out the window next to where he lay as wind rattled a thin branch against the glass.

  He used to do this all the time. He would get me going only to make me wait. Maybe it was the asshole in him, but more and more lately I wondered why we were friends. What did I get from this relationship? What did Kenny give me that I really needed? A big part of me would always love Kenny, but recently I began to wonder if that friendship love was from the past. A loyalty that merely reflected what we used to mean to one another. Now I just wasn’t sure.

  He had always driven me crazy and he still does. Did I even mean something to him? Or was I just another part of Kenny’s collection of friends? Just part of an entourage? Because if there is one thing I have always known about Kenny, it’s that he likes to have people around him. He likes to be the center of the party. He has a wonderful ability to read people and make you feel that you are the most important one in the room, which is what had always been so appealing about him in the first place. People have always responded to that ability in Kenny, especially women.

  But as I get older, that charismatic quality in him has begun to feel more and more uncertain and has almost taken on a feeling of being somewhat fake. I have seen him work his charms on people that he thought of as annoying and didn’t like too much and it was the same words and looks that he would talk to me with. I wondered then, and even more now, if he cared about me. And still I wonder—does my friendship really matter to him as much as I always thought that it had?

  It was beginning to dawn on me that maybe we had just grown apart and I wasn’t sure if I felt sad or unnerved. Probably both. I got up.

  Kenny suddenly grabbed my arm, pulling me back down to my seat. I angrily shook him off and climbed to my feet, muttering obscenities, glaring at him. There had been many times before when I had felt those things but I never let them slip from me, never let them escape my lips. At once, I felt horrible. Like I was betraying a friend that had been such an important part of my life for so many long years. But what were we now? What was in store for our friendship? I was thinking in circles.

  “Fuck you, Kenny!” I roared at him and stormed from the room. And those conflicting emotions I knew would come, came. Gratification rained gently over me and for only a moment I wanted to smile, but I had little time to feel it. A wave of guilt hit me and I almost turned around and went back to him. Then as I was about to walk down the hardwood floor of my hall and away from his room, his voice called me back.

  “Tim, wait! I’m sorry, man. Really, I am. Please? What are we going to do?”

  “Nothing, Kenny!” I yelled from the hall.

  “What?” he asked, and his voice seemed concerned as I stood motionless in the blackness of the darkened hall.

  “Fabiana’s going to handle it. She’s going to destroy the tree. The demon tree.”

  “Okay, whatever. Please help me up. We have work to do.”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?” I asked and I walked back into the room as he was already trying to get up.

  “I’m talking about your house. I’m talking about that asshole at the hospital. I’m talking about O’Hara’s chase downtown.”

  “The shootout?” I asked and my eyes narrowed on him. He was thinking something that I hadn’t even considered.

  “Yeah. I think they’re connected. You know the FBI has been watching Dr. Colleens, don
’t you?”

  “Yeah, they had a guy tailing me for my first few months of retirement.”

  “They’ve been watching all of us, Tim.”

  “So you think the guy at the hospital was a government agent?”

  “Makes sense, right?”

  “So they ransacked my house? But why? I did what they wanted, I got out.”

  “But you didn’t. Not really. Did you?” Kenny asked me.

  And suddenly his eyes looked much like those of my father. There was an accusatory glare in them.

  “I mean you’ve been researching and following leads all over the state, right? You’ve been seeing Fabiana at the hospital like once a week. You had to know she would be a person of interest to some branch of service. Right?”

  “I had hoped they would leave her alone. I had hoped they would leave us alone.”

  “No such luck, friend. They wanted that blood. And now we’ve brought O’Hara into it.”

  “Sorry, Kenny, but I believe you brought Detective O’Hara into it.”

  “Yeah, well… she’s a good cop. I need to help her. She’s my partner. And I’m afraid I haven’t been all that good to her these last few months”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she wasn’t you! Because she has no idea what I went through and I didn’t want to open up to her. And most of all, I didn’t want to put another partner of mine in danger. I’m afraid I may have come off as a sexist pig to her.”

  “Alright, let’s go then. Let’s set the record straight that you’re not an asshole after all.”

  I smiled to let him know I was at least half joking.

  Chapter 52

  10:32 p.m., May 6

  The large moon eyes from the demon’s skin glowed in Fabiana’s mind. They looked out from that deep, off limits place where she stored and kept her darkest fears at bay, away from what she had to do. Fears so unnatural, which were many and of a kind not felt by anyone else. Wind shook bare trees and clouds streamed like birds across the sky as a cold front moved in over southern Washington. Fabiana was in her more un-human state as she floated over the unseeing eyes of Centralia, Washington, hidden by the blackness of the night.

  The temperature had already begun to dip past unpleasant levels as she flew across the sky. Her face stung and her lips worked to keep the chill from reaching her teeth. It was times like this when she missed her vampire powers. All she had to do was will herself to the other side of the world and there she would be. And cold and heat had never bothered her. Not like now. Now her flesh was almost shaking from the cold and pressure of the pounding breeze.

  “Why do I do these things?” Fabiana asked herself. Tim struck her as a wonder. But it seemed his needs had always distracted her. She no longer looked at him as she once had. Now it was more of an intense gaze upon this human that helped her like she had never thought possible. She was in love now.

  Not only were her thoughts deeply loving toward Tim, but also her mind had taken on a kind and gentle flow. Fabiana felt no pity for him. No, she felt an emotion so overpowering she wasn’t sure she could contain it. Something so strong and deep in her soul. The love she had for him was that new love where one couldn’t keep any thought in their head but thoughts of that person. She had missed how true love felt. Like when she had been with Cerci. She would always miss him of course, but this was something different. Cerci was the one she was fighting for when she became human. But now her thoughts were focused on Tim. She had always known of his love for her. How could she not? Anyone could see it. She didn’t have to read his thoughts to know his true desires and feelings for her. Her love for him—their love for one another—that was the only reason she helped Kenny now. Not for Kenny’s sake, but for his. For Tim’s.

  Fabiana knew this was the great adventure of her life. Nothing before could ever equal being human again. She had almost forgotten what a rush of sensation could feel like to fingers that hadn’t been hardened by the centuries. What it was like to feel your heart beating once more. To eat. Yes, eating had to be her favorite part. Even though she had been subjected to that horrible hospital food. Tim had brought her that wonderful slice of something he called cheesecake. She could still feel the creaminess on her tongue. Tim had said, “It’s better than sex.” Fabiana didn’t know about that, but it was really good. But then she found herself wondering what sex with Tim would be like. She enjoyed looking upon his body. He was a very athletic man and seemed passionate. She was sure it would be quite enjoyable and she told herself that when this was all over she would certainly find out.

  Almost before she knew it, Fabiana caught sight of the demon tree. It sat in the midst of heaps of old rundown and forgotten tractors, rusting cars, and mangled airplane parts. She came to a stop just beyond a grove of trees and silently touched down, not wanting to attract the attention of anyone at the airport. The moon sat above, quietly looking down upon her as her tiny feet walked the darkened path and she was reminded of the thin, meager path she had walked on a night not too different from that one. The night the Origin of Blood had called her from her slumbering bed and made her into a vampire. The trail leading from her home in Olisipo to that hidden cave high in the foothills of Hispania was a small one, much like this one now.

  The path was barely visible and her human eyes could hardly see the soil that now crunched under her feet. The tree stood like a mighty pillar over the wreckage and decay around its dry, black limbs. Long wooden fingers reached out for her as if the tree lived to only cause her fear and pain.

  And yes, it was fear that she was feeling at that moment. A familiar fear. When Fabiana was five years old, her father pushed her down a rock face. He didn’t mean to do it. He had only meant to swat her rear end. But she lost her footing and went backwards off the rocks. She tumbled down and down. Panic consumed her before she reached the bottom, a panic so intense she didn’t know if it would ever subside. She now felt that old fear, that old panic return to her once more. The fear of falling and being unable to control or stop yourself from plummeting to what you know, of course, will be a painful conclusion. Of course Fabiana had not been badly hurt—there were only a few bruises and bumps—but the fear was there.

  Yet she pushed the panic back down and recalled that her father had not meant to harm her. She might have forgotten that push downward. Why now would she remember so vividly? She always had a great love for her father. And he never truly meant to harm her, but he did. And it felt as if the little battle she had fought in her mortal form left much deeper scars than centuries as an immortal. Why would that be? she wondered. The countless battles and deaths she had seen and suffered were so much more violent and vivid than any pain she had experienced before or after. And yet the memory of her fall stuck with her.

  It was the still quiet part of the late night when she reached the full, gnarled tree and she mounted the final steps without anyone getting a glimpse of her. She felt most uncomfortable in this dark, evil place. At once, Fabiana’s movements came to an immediate halt and a sense of hyper-alertness filled her mind. She knew instantly that the demon was close. She could feel his power gaining momentum and she knew that she must act now.

  Inferi was not resting.

  She looked up at the lurking, heavy trunk of the tree with the immediate flashing of anger with which she had greeted another evil not so long ago. Rage erupted from her thoughts and the cold of the night was pushed back by an intense blaze of fire. Suddenly the tree came alive with movement. And before she knew what was happening, hands were reaching and tearing at her. Shock assaulted her as Fabiana was dragged backwards by an unseen force. The night was too dark for her to truly see who it was that was taking her away. But then a familiarity had returned to her. A sense of companionship. She knew it was one of them from the Origin of Blood. From her old clan.

  “Fabiana, I’m going to truly enjoy this,” the man said to her and now she knew him. The revelation was not good news for her. The man stood proud with his Greek presence, t
he same shift to his weight as he stood with more of himself on the right leg as Fabiana had always known him to do. His black hair was shorter than she had known it to be and the man had a look in his blue eyes that disturbed her as he now gazed at her intensely.

  “Bedros?”

  “Yes. Hello again.”

  Chapter 53

  10:35 p.m., May 6

  Kat’s face was as hard and glazed as the glass tumbler of Scotch on her bar counter when the knock came upon her door. Her eyes flashed to the monitor. A black and white suit filled the fuzzy screen. Then the knock came again. This time even louder and with more force.

  “Detective, this is the FBI. I need you to open the door right now.”

  Suddenly she worried about Joe. Had he gotten out unseen? Was this the reason the FBI was here? Or because of her conversation at the fountain with Dr. Colleens? Had the FBI known all along about her and the doctor? Had they been overheard at the most recent crime scene? Had she been followed and now they were here to take her away?

  When Kat cautiously opened the door, an unsmiling but familiar short, fit man stood in front of her. She recognized him from earlier in the day, from the morgue. Kat guessed him to be in his mid-thirties. He had thinning brown hair and the face of one who had been boyishly cute before the aging process had killed that prospect in life. Advancing years worked to take his physical appearance to an even more extreme level, but Kat was sure an agent of the FBI would not let that happen.

  He held out his credentials and Kat barely gave them a glance.

  “What do you want?” Kat said, refusing to let him in.

  “Detective, I need to talk with you a moment. Can I come in?”