‘Leanne,’ Leanne said. ‘I’m the hero’s girlfriend.’
Diana smiled. ‘He’s a lucky man. You’re quite beautiful.’ Leanne blinked, not sure how to respond and not quite sure how her jealousy seemed to have been derailed so easily.
‘I know I think she is,’ Mike said.
‘Policemen are supposed to be observant,’ Pat commented without looking around.
‘Yeah,’ Mike said, ‘which is why I’m annoyed half of what happened in the park is just a haze. I really don’t remember using a second magazine on him.’
‘Blood loss,’ Diana said, ‘can cause all sorts of problems with the brain.’
‘We were worried about him for a while,’ Leanne agreed, ‘but there’s no evidence of permanent damage aside from the loss of memory, and the engrams probably never encoded given the timeframe. It can take several minutes.’
‘You’re a doctor?’
‘Resident, working on the full-on medical doctor thing.’
‘Beautiful and intelligent, a dangerous package.’
‘You’d know,’ Pat said, turning to place the last of the drinks on the bar.
Diana gave Pat a smirk. ‘Be careful, Mike. The smart ones can be a handful.’
‘Oh, she is,’ Mike replied. He handed money across the counter.
‘I’m not,’ Leanne said, half-whining, ‘am I?’
‘My handful. I can cope.’
‘You’ve known each other a long time,’ Diana observed.
‘First day of kindergarten. We, uh, didn’t actually date back then.’
‘Ah, young love. So romantic, don’t you think?’
‘Mike has never been a great romantic,’ Leanne replied.
Mike gave her a mock scowl. ‘Let’s get back with the drinks before Andy annoys Lisa.’ As they walked back to the table, he added, ‘I’m sure she undercharged me.’
‘You’re the hero, remember? That woman, Diana…’
‘Yeah?’
‘She’s really beautiful.’
‘Yeah, she is, but she seemed to pay more attention to you than to me. Maybe I should be jealous.’
Leanne just giggled.
~~~
It was almost midnight when Leanne went to the bar for drinks. Everyone was getting a little tipsy and Lisa had already given up and headed back saying she was feeling a little off. Mike had considered escorting her down, thinking of the crowd on the first floor, but the Candle seemed like a well-run place, not likely to tolerate anything going on under its roof. Why vice had such a hard-on for the place he was not sure.
‘You having any second thoughts about the job after what happened?’ Mark asked and Mike glanced his way, surprised by the question.
‘No. I mean, if you have second thoughts about close calls, you don’t start. Every cop knows there’s the possibility something could happen to them. Last thing you want is your name on the memorial wall, but we all know it can happen. But, Hell, any of us could get hit by a bus.’
‘Cheery thought,’ Andy said, ‘but true.’ He shrugged. ‘We take all the precautions, but it just takes a slip and we’ve got HIV or hepatitis. It’s slower, but it’ll kill you all the same.’
Mike looked around at Leanne, who seemed to be having a fairly intense chat with Diana and Pat. ‘You’re right. Cheery. I won’t say it wasn’t scary as Hell. I thought…’ He frowned. ‘Actually, it was kind of weird. I was pretty sure I was going to die, but it was like it was funny or something. Like I was drunk.’
‘Blood loss will–’ Mark began.
‘Huh, yeah, I know.’
‘Lack of oxygen to the brain,’ Andy said. ‘I’d imagine you’ve had it explained enough your ears hurt.’
‘Yeah. But knowing Leanne means my first aid is better than most people’s anyway.’
Leanne chose that moment to return and place glasses of beer in front of Mark and Andy. Then she bent down to place her mouth against Mike’s ear. ‘We need to go,’ she whispered, a hint of urgency in her voice.
‘We do?’
‘Yes. I want you. Right now.’
‘Oh…’ He raised his voice. ‘Uh, guys, we need to head back. I’m still not a hundred per cent and my doctor is advising me it’s pumpkin time.’ Leanne had never, as far as Mike could remember, demanded sex like that, but he was not going to question the sudden need.
‘I’d call you a lightweight,’ Andy said, ‘but I guess we can make allowances for your invalid status.’
‘Yeah, thanks.’ He got to his feet and followed Leanne to the stairs, noticing Pat waving from behind the bar and the somewhat amused look on Diana’s face on the way.
15th November.
They almost fell in through the apartment door. Leanne had given Mike the key so he could work the lock while she concentrated on kissing his neck. It took him two tries to get the key in the lock and a couple of goes at coordinating turning the key with pushing the door.
‘I want you,’ Leanne whispered as she pulled him in.
Mike pushed the door closed behind him. ‘I kind of got that.’
‘Now,’ she added, backing up against the wall and hitching her dress up around her hips. ‘Here.’
It was weird. Okay, not weird, but a little out of character. On the other hand, it was also intensely arousing. He pushed himself up against her, grinding his cock into her through her panties.
‘God! Put it in me!’ Leanne gasped, reaching down to wrestle with his belt. After a second of frustration, she let him do that and focused on pushing her panties down, wriggling to get them to drop to her ankles. ‘Please,’ she moaned out.
Mike grabbed her behind and lifted, pressing her back against the wall, and her legs wrapped around his hips and he pushed…
‘Yes!’ Leanne groaned. ‘Do it. Hard and fast.’
He had never seen her like this, so wound up and ready to pop for no apparent reason. He pulled back and then rammed himself in, repeating the action and getting a grunt of pleasure from Leanne each time. It seemed to take seconds before she let out a wail and clamped her hands around his shoulders, clinging on as the orgasm crashed through her. Mike kept going, feeling her body clenching around him.
‘Oh, God,’ she gasped, ‘I’m going to… Ah!’
This time as her body clamped down on him, he felt himself go over the edge and there was nothing he could do to stop it. There was the violent explosion of climax and then they were on the floor in a crumpled heap.
‘Shit!’ Mike said. ‘That was…’
‘Yes,’ Leanne agreed. ‘Now get me to the bedroom. I want it longer next time.’
Wondering if she was trying to kill him, Mike began disentangling himself from her limbs so that he could pick her up.
~~~
Mike opened his eyes, blinked a couple of times, and lifted his head to check the time. It was after ten and Leanne was still curled in his arms in her narrow bed, so it was a good thing she was on a later shift.
‘I’m awake,’ Leanne mumbled. ‘I’m just trying to work out how to show my face in public again.’
Mike chuckled softly. ‘Why?’ He was fairly sure he knew why, but teasing her a little seemed like the thing to do.
‘I dragged you out of the club.’
‘Led in a demanding manner,’ he countered.
‘And then… That wasn’t me. I don’t do that.’
‘You,’ Mike said, ‘were an animal.’
Leanne yanked the sheet over her head. ‘Don’t!’
‘I liked it. Not sure what got into you, but I liked it.’
The sheet was pulled down and she turned in his arms. ‘You did? I mean, I did. It was like I was on fire. Every time you touched me, I felt like I was coming. It was amazing. I… I was talking to Pat. A-and it was like I suddenly had to have you.’
‘Hell of a conversation.’
‘She said she liked my dress. That was it. Then I felt all light-headed and horny.’
‘Weird, but I’m not going to complain. I like what w
e do normally, but that was certainly a nice change.’
Leanne’s smile was a little timid. ‘It was, wasn’t it? We must have woken Lisa.’
‘She came in after we did. I guess she wanted away from Andy and made an excuse.’
‘Oh. I guess. I’ll grill her on it later. How did you notice her coming in? I was out of it after we made it through the door.’
He smirked. ‘Door of the apartment, yeah. Couldn’t even wait for the bed.’
Leanne bit her lip. ‘Don’t!’ She tried to pull the sheet up again, but he stopped her, instead forcing it down and off her breasts.
‘Don’t cover up then.’
‘Mike, I don’t, ahh…’ She trailed off into a moan as his mouth closed around her left nipple. ‘I-in that case… go on.’
17th November.
The first of the Harlem Vampire’s victims had been found in a housing redevelopment down by Harlem River Drive. Leanne had been more than usually attentive for most of the weekend, and the sex had been welcome, but it had not chased away the weird dreams which refused to go away or make sense. Mike had decided to try something new and go look at the murder sites.
Flashing his badge had got him into the building. They were working on a different area now anyway. According to the foreman, they had been asked to leave the room where the body was found in case further evidence was needed and would he please ask someone if it could be cleaned up now.
The door was taped over but unlocked. Mike opened it and ducked under the tape and into the lounge of a fairly large apartment. It was probably going to be upscale when it was finished. Now the plasterwork needed to be skimmed and the floor was bare concrete. There was a large, semi-circular window at the far end which overlooked the river, and no sign of blood.
That changed when he walked through into what he figured was the master bedroom. They were probably going to have to resurface the floor and redo the plasterwork from scratch, though there was, perhaps, less blood than one might have expected considering the victim had exsanguinated.
Mike stood, looking at the deep red soaked into the floor, the splashes and splatters of it on the walls and even on the window. A woman had died here, died a horrible death at the hands of a mad man who thought he was a vampire. She had been picked up off the street on her way home from her job at a local restaurant, dragged onto the site, and her throat had been torn open.
Which did not entirely make sense. The killer had not torn at Mike’s throat. He had sunk those veneers in and sucked at the blood which pumped out. Serial killers did develop their technique… Had the guy done the same with his first victim? Had the tearing had been done after the fact to disguise the bite? He was just considering asking whether he could take a look at the case files when he heard the voice behind him.
‘You’re off duty, Detective. This is an odd place to find you.’
Even though some part of his mind recognised the voice, he was drawing his Smith & Wesson as he turned. Diana’s lips were curled into a slight smile and she did not seem disturbed by the weapon pointed at her. She wore a long, black coat over slacks and a blouse, both in black, and kitten heels. Her eyes were hidden behind dark glasses which she reached slowly for and slid off.
‘What are you doing here?’ Mike asked.
‘I’m going to reach into my coat and take out my ID,’ she said in reply and proceeded to do so, slowly and deliberately. She flipped open the leather folder and held it out for him to see.
‘You’re a cop?’
‘Difficult to believe, I know.’
‘Specialist Crimes Unit. I’ve heard of it. Just about. Why didn’t you say anything at the Candle?’
‘Because I needed to talk to some people before I could introduce myself properly.’
Mike lowered his weapon. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Still having trouble with your memory? You still don’t remember me properly?’
His eyes narrowed. ‘That was you. I’d just about convinced myself I hallucinated you. You were there. You… You were the one who killed him!’
She just smiled. ‘Let’s get out of here. We’ll go to your apartment. I need to talk to you in private.’
‘Why?’
‘I’ll tell you that when we’re somewhere private. I need to stop off and tell the foreman he can start work in here again, then we’ll go.’
‘Okay, I guess,’ Mike said, wondering what the Hell was going on.
~~~
Mike scurried into his apartment and gave it a quick once-over before Diana sauntered in, closing the door from the small porch behind her. Since Leanne had decamped with him to his place after her Saturday shift, which had lasted well into Sunday, he had tidied up and he was not the kind of bachelor to leave a copy of Hustler beside the toilet anyway.
‘Not bad,’ Diana said, her eyes scanning the room. It was not exactly huge, a basic rectangle with a door at the back, but it was large enough for a sofa and a plastic bucket chair Mike had picked up at a garage sale, and a low coffee table made of slightly different shades of pale wood jointed together. The latter was one of the few bits of furniture he had that he was proud of, but the sofa was comfortable. There was an entertainment centre under the window: not the largest of TVs, but it worked and the picture was good. ‘You walk into some bachelor pads and wonder whether the owner’s human. And there’s always a copy of Hustler beside the toilet.’
Mike felt his cheeks colour and had an urge to rush to the bathroom to check, even though he had never bought a copy of the magazine in his life. ‘Not here,’ he said. ‘Would you like coffee?’
‘No, thank you.’
‘Uh… have a seat, I think I need some.’
‘Be my guest. You had a tough week.’
When he returned from the kitchen at the back, he found her sitting on the bucket seat, relaxed with her legs crossed. There was the feeling about her that she was never uncomfortable anywhere, even though you also got the impression that she belonged in a palace, probably a big one, on the arm of a king.
‘The sofa’s more comfortable.’ Mike said.
‘I’m fine. What do you know about SCU?’
Mike settled onto the sofa and put his coffee mug down on a mat with the NYPD logo printed on it. ‘Uh… Well, it gets confused with the Crime Scene Unit a lot.’ That got a smile. ‘It’s under the Special Investigation Division. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone from it before and I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone else who has. No one really knows what it’s for. The name is really generic, tells you nothing.’
‘That’s why we chose it. Ostensibly, the Specialist Crimes Unit is there to investigate situations which require esoteric knowledge and skills. We have a varied toolkit and we get involved in all sorts of weird cases. We debunk ghost sightings where there’s fraud or other activities involved. We investigate satanic cults who are in it for the child abuse. We get involved in vice cases where someone’s found some esoteric narcotic that takes specialist analysis. We have links to the Crime Scene Unit, the Homicide Analysis Unit, Special Fraud, Missing Persons, Special Victims Liaison, and the Cold Case Squad. We have both a very wide and a very narrow remit. We also have a special arrangement to handle the same sorts of activities in New Jersey.’
Mike nodded slowly and picked up almost immediately on the operative word. ‘Ostensibly?’
‘Yes. The Specialist Crimes Unit was formed in April nineteen eighty-three to support and fully formalise an agreement between the city authorities and certain members of the community to handle a very specific kind of crime. With our skill set, we do handle cases other parts of the NYPD don’t routinely encounter, but our primary purpose remains unchanged: SCU enforces the law with regards to New York’s vampires.’
Mike fought the urge to say ‘there’s no such thing as vampires’ and won, just. Instead, he said, ‘You’re a vampire cop?’ He tried for a flat delivery, but his voice cracked a little on the last word.
Diana smiled and, for the first tim
e, he noticed that she never really showed much of her teeth when she did. ‘I’m a vampire cop, yes. You don’t quite sound like you want to call the men in white coats.’
‘Okay… vampires are a myth?’ He wanted to make it an assertion, but it definitely came out more as a question.
Diana opened her mouth and her tongue slid over a pair of elongated canines. She waited a beat and then said, ‘I assure you they are anything but. I am, literally, a vampire cop, though I admit that the title of detective is something of an administrative formality.’ She paused again. ‘These aren’t veneers, and neither were his.’
‘I’m not sure what to say.’
‘It’s a shock to the system for most people.’
‘Okay, why are you telling me this?’
‘Good question and it deserves a longer answer than the simple one. Back in nineteen fifty-five, there was an underground war around Coney Island. Stalin was causing problems in the Soviet Union and various vampires from those countries left for other parts of the world. A group of Russians decided they wanted a bigger say in the way things were run in New York and their methods were… direct. Too direct. You understand that we try to stay off the radar. The laws we live by are primarily aimed at keeping vampires hidden from most of humanity.’
‘Pitchforks. Lynch mobs.’
‘Both of which we can handle, but bonfires give us pause. The Coney Island War threatened to reveal us to everyone. They were converting bad choices, ending their competition, and they were good at it. The local Concilium, um, council or ruling body, was worried and they called me in to help. I ended the war, but a lot of damage had already been done.’
‘Wait… How old are you?’
‘Michael! A gentleman does not ask a lady her age.’
‘Sorry, I–’
She grinned. ‘Two thousand five hundred, give or take a century. It gets hard to judge after the first millennium, especially when they keep changing the calendars.’
‘O-oh.’
‘Various detectives had been working on the deaths and some of them had become convinced that the killers were something other than human. Some of them were pretty senior. The Concilium made a decision which has been argued over ever since, but it seems to be working. They talked to the city authorities instead of eliminating the problem.’
Hunter's Kiss Page 3
