The Power

by Cynthia Roberts

  Suddenly, she was thinking of her parents. She had never been told how they had actually died. No one had ever re-opened the subject with her. She was fourteen years old, she thought suddenly. How could she possibly find any answers now? The Internet, she thought suddenly. She could look back over old newspapers. There had to be something in there about her parents’ murders. She would go to the library tomorrow, she vowed. Tomorrow, she would force herself to look up those old newspapers and at last face the truth of what had happened to her parents that fateful night so long ago.

  Chapter four

  Present day

  The breeze took the edge off the humidity and cooled the sweat on his brow as he ducked his head, shoved his big hands in the pockets of his baggy slacks, and picked up his feet once more in pursuit of the child ahead of him. She was young, probably eight or nine years old at the most. Her shoulder-length hair wasn’t quite blonde, but it wasn’t quite brown either. It tended to bounce just slightly off her shoulders as she rode the shiny, new, pink bike down the cracked sidewalk before him. What a child of that age was doing out this time of the night alone on a street that was notoriously known to be home to drug dealers and gang members, the man hadn’t the slightest idea. He just counted himself lucky that the child’s parents obviously didn’t give a shit about the girl.

  On the sidewalk before the child a group of teenage, Hispanic boys were having a lively conversation packed full of curse words and loud hoots of laughter. One had brandished a long, silver blade and was showing it off to the others in his circle. This could pose to be a problem, the man thought, and he raised a big hand to scratch the three day’s growth of graying beard on his rather feeble chin. Weak chin, he thought. Men with weak chins grew beards. There was no other way around it, but God how he hated the way the coarse hair seemed to scratch him from the inside out.

  He stopped momentarily, watching as the little girl honked the shiny, gold horn on her new bike as if she were riding in some fancy, perfectly safe, suburban neighborhood instead of down the middle of Hell Avenue. He was surprised when the gang members actually parted to allow the girl to ease by. She rode right through them without any of them really giving her much notice.

  Well hell, he thought, and he started his pursuit once more. He made a wide berth around the young men, whistling as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He shoved his hands in his pockets once more, and caught sight of the child again. Her small, skinny legs pumped the pedals of the bike in slow appreciation. She was enjoying herself, he thought, and his hands tightened into fists in his pockets. Soon, he would enjoy himself as well, he thought anxiously. This was too easy. It was as if it were meant to be, he reasoned as he continued to whistle the sweet little tune, and follow the child toward a dark alley not twenty feet ahead. It would be simple, like taking candy from a baby, he thought, and a greedy grin curved his thin lips before he could stop himself. This was what he lived for. It was the only thing that kept his heart pumping, that kept him alive. The thrill of the chase was the best part, he thought, but then he thought of what would happen when he captured his prey, and he nearly groaned out loud. It was difficult not to rub his hands together in hungry anticipation. His heart pumping hard, straight adrenaline and his skin tingling with excitement, he followed the child toward the alley. Just a few more steps, he was thinking, just a few more, Oh God, just a few more steps!

  No one seemed to notice the slight change in the wind when the creature dropped to the ground beside a filthy, decaying trash dumpster. A candy wrapper blew across the street and came to a stop in the gutter to mingle with weeks’ worth of filth and grime. An old man in moth eaten, filthy clothes, dipped and scooped it up, turning it over and over in his hands before deciding it was nothing he wanted, and tossing it back into the street. An elderly woman sat on her front stoop staring blankly ahead as if she had tuned out the loud laughter and cursing from the young men not twelve feet in front of her. It was evident she was captivated by her own little world.

  The creature stood in one fluid movement. It moved in skilled, calculated steps like a well trained dancer on silent feet. It moved toward the Hispanics at the end of the street. The scent not far ahead, it followed it like a large cat that had just caught whiff of its prey. As the creature was passing the loud, boisterous boys, a hand shot out and gripped it by the elbow. The creature halted, but her soft blue eyes still looked anxiously forward, catching sight of her prey as it stepped into the black alley after the child.

  “Hola, beautiful.” The boy holding her grinned at her as his greedy, brown eyes looked her up and down in slow appreciation. She could hear his eager heartbeat, could feel his nervousness too. His false bravado masked his fear of rejection, she realized. He was doing this more for his friends’ benefit than for his own, though she did feel his attraction toward her as well.

  “Oh baby, I could eat you alive.” The boy’s Hispanic accent rolled heavily from his lips as his heart slammed against his ribs again and again, seemingly louder to the creature than the boy’s own voice. She had no time for fools, she thought suddenly. Her prey was getting away, and so with strength that was not human, she gripped the thick fingers holding her at the elbow and peeled them back. The boy tried not to cry out, but the pain that she was causing him as she bent his wrist back to the breaking point and brought him to his knees on the sidewalk before her caused him to let out a startling yelp. She turned, her soft blue eyes meeting his pleading gaze. The boys around them had stopped to stare in shock at what they were seeing, but they soon erupted in laughter as she let the boy go with a flick of her wrist, and turned walking after the man she had come there for. She ignored the shouts of laughter, hardy teasing, and the cursing taunts that came from behind her as she, too, slipped into the black alley.

  “That’s a nice bike.” The man was kneeling down beside the child that was still seated on her bike. The child’s big, brown eyes were wide in fear, her tiny heart beating away from her as the man’s dirty, wrinkled hand smoothed over the silver handlebars of her bike in loving care.

  “It…it was a birthday present…from my mommy.” the little girl said in a high-pitched voice.

  “It’s real nice.” The man replied. “Your mommy must love you a great deal to get you a bike as nice as this one.” he spoke in a loving manner. He did this often, or at least as often as he could get away with, the creature thought. The creature stood there seeing into the darkness as if it were as clear as day. The strong, male heartbeat called out to her, but she paused momentarily to listen to his sick thoughts. He wanted the child. He wanted to hear it cry out. He wanted to…

  “Where is your mommy tonight?” he asked of the young girl. The child turned, looking in the direction of the creature. There were tears in her big eyes as she said, “She’s asleep on the couch. She wouldn’t wake up.”

  “That’s too bad. A little girl like you needs someone to take care of her, to look out for her.” The man was coaxing as if he were some kind of a hero instead of a monster. His thoughts were turning to that of lust and greed. His heartbeat sped up as sweat gathered in the palms of his hands and on his brow. He gripped the handlebars of the girl’s bike in a tight fist. “I can take care of you.” he told the child, but the words that were supposed to be reassuring to the child held an entirely different meaning to him. Oh yes, he wanted to take care of the child very, very much.

  The creature chose that moment to step forth from the darkness. Her light blue eyes washed over the child as she let her presence be known. The man on the ground jumped to his feet in startled alarm. He shoved a hand through his thinning, dark hair and his angry eyes came to the tall, slender woman dressed in black. He could barely make her out in the darkness, but she could see every line of his rather handsome face. He was probably no more than forty, she thought as she stepped even closer, and the child screamed in delight.

  “Lillian!” the little girl cried out in glee as she ran to the woman, throwing her little arms around the woman�
��s long, slender legs. Lillian made no move to embrace the child. Her light blue eyes stared hard into the dark eyes of the man who had come there to do the child harm.

  “Did you lose a little girl?” The man smiled, but it was a false smile. Inside he was angry, seething that she had wrecked his fun. Slowly, Lillian crouched down, taking the child by the arms. She met the child’s deer brown eyes in a scolding manner. “What did I tell you, Kylie?” she asked of the child that she had known for only a few short weeks.

  “Not to go outside alone.” The child repeated guiltily. “But I got a new bike, Lillian! It’s my birthday! I wanted to show you.”

  “It was foolish of you!” Lillian scolded, and the child sucked on her bottom lip as big tears filled her eyes. “You could have been hurt.”

  “But I wanted to see you.” The child whimpered. Lillian could feel the child’s pain, her loneliness. It had been alone for so long, the only child of a drug addicted mother who half the time wasn’t even aware she had a child, and the other half, when she was sober, tried hard to make up for all of the neglect that she had dished out. “Take your bike and go back under the light. Wait for me there.” Lillian ordered sharply as she stood.

  “Look. I don’t know what you’re thinking, ma’am. I simply came in here to warn the child how dangerous it is to be out alone, especially traveling in a dark alley.” The man threw up defensive hands as he watched the little girl slip back out of the alley. The loss that came over him then made him feel incredibly agitated, Lillian sensed. For a moment, he thought of going through her to go after the child, but for some reason, he halted. Lillian waited until Kylie was completely out of earshot before she stepped forward. “What?” the man asked, smiling arrogantly. “Are you going to beat me up, give me a good tongue lashing?” he scoffed. He wasn’t afraid, she realized. He should be, Lillian thought as she stepped even closer without a word spoken to him. “I don’t need this.” The man growled fitfully, and he moved to go past her. She moved in a gush of wind, the palms of her hands shooting out, slamming into the center of his chest and knocking the breath from him as he went flying backward, crashing into the crumbling brick wall at his back. He came down with a thud, and Lillian crouched down before him, examining him more closely now. She could see the fear shining brightly in his eyes now, the uncertainty of what had just happened to him.

  “How the hell?” he shook himself in disbelief, and brick dust fell off of his shoulders. “What are you? Some kind of superhero?” he laughed out sarcastically, and he started to climb to his feet. Lillian’s long, pale fingers closed around his neck then. His thick hands came out grasping her by the forearm as slowly, she stood, lifting his two hundred plus pounds along the wall as she came to her full height. His heart sped away from him in sudden terror. Sweat prickled on his brow as his feet came off of the ground. “What? How are you doing this?” he cried out in strangled alarm. She leaned into him, bringing her face to his as the change came over her. The blue veins beneath the nearly translucent skin on her face began to pulse. The nails at the tips of her fingers lengthened and sharpened, tracing gently against the sensitive flesh of his neck. Her small, pale nose seemed to peel back before the terrified man’s eyes. Her upper lip reeled back as a pair of razor sharp fangs slid gently over her bottom lip. She opened her mouth as her eyes faded in color until they shone a startling, glowing white. The man’s heart plummeted into his stomach. Terror streaked through him like a strike of lightening. “What the hell are you?” he screamed out.

  “I am the hunter.” she whispered to his mind as she leaned into him and sank her fangs into the giving flesh of his neck. Warm blood pooled on her tongue, and she closed her eyes and drank it in. “And you are my prey.” she finished the thoughts to his mind as her fingers closed tighter around his throat. He fought then, his big fists slamming into her back, his feet kicking out, and at last he opened his hands, his nails digging into her skin as the life slipped out of him. His heart slowed as the fight and his last thoughts left him. His many sins flashed in his mind, and she drank them in as well, feeling the guilt as if it were her own. She pulled back, peering into his lifeless eyes as his heart made one final, feeble beat. Slowly, she let go of the body, and it fell hard to the ground. She had no remorse for a man such as he, a man who preyed upon the weak and the helpless, and took joy in their misery and pain. It was done. She turned, stepping over the thick, bulky legs, and came to a sudden stop. She heard the wild, frightened heartbeat before she saw the wide, bulging, brown eyes. The same boy from earlier on the sidewalk stood there staring at her with his chest heaving in horror. He seemed to be glued to the spot he stood in as those terrified eyes watched her. Carefully, Lillian lifted a long, pale hand to her full, blood red lips, and suckled away the last of her victim’s blood. She thought of what the boy had said to her earlier, “I could eat you alive.” he had said in a crude manner. She smiled at the thought.

  “Still want a bite?” she asked, and he turned so quickly that he slipped and fell. Clumsily regaining his footing, he ran for dear life.

  They would come now. The other boys would come. They would want to see for themselves, she reasoned. She wasted no more time. She turned, gripped the brick wall with her long, sharp nails, and climbed with skill and speed until she reached the top of the building. Then she stood, standing on the ledge of the roof above, and peering down at the child that still sat on her new bike, waiting for Lillian to come to her. Lillian closed her eyes. She concentrated on the child below. “Go home.” she sent the thought to the child’s mind. “Go home. I’ll follow you there.”

  The child nodded her head in understanding. Her little feet came up, and she began to pump the pedals in earnest. On the roof above, the creature followed, jumping from one roof top to the next until she was far enough away. When she stepped off of the ledge and landed a foot away from the child, the child did not jump. Instead, she smiled up at Lillian, happy to see her. The creature stood, nodded to the child, and together they started back toward the child’s home, the creature whispering words of caution along the way.

  Chapter five

  Detective Jack Stone ducked beneath the stretched, yellow, police lines at the murder scene and made his way into the still dark alley. The murder had been called in forty-five minutes ago, but Jack had been clear across town and had just then made it to the crime scene. The uniforms had already been there and had assessed the situation but they were waiting on Jack’s sign off before they sent the victim’s body to the morgue since this was Jack’s case.

  Jack came upon two men in blue standing over the fallen body of the victim, a forty-something male, Jack thought by first glance. The body was still leaning against the dingy, brick wall at the back of the alley as if the man weren’t dead, as if he were just some homeless drunk that had fallen asleep there, slumped over like that.

  Dr. Nicole Harold, who ran the East side Morgue, stood to Jack’s left, a pen and small tablet in her hands as she took notes. Her long, strawberry blonde hair was tied back at her nape and a billowing, white lab coat blew out behind her in the breeze, exposing her tall, slender body in the dark slacks and plain white shirt that she wore. Her blue eyes fixated on Jack skeptically, and Jack sent her a nod. He didn’t much care for the woman. The irrational ideas she had related to him after the last homicide he had investigated, still had him wondering if he had been supposed to laugh or recommend to her superior that she be mentally checked out.

  “There’s no blood, Jack.” Dr. Harold called out to him, but Jack barely spared the woman a passing glance. Not this again, he thought in frustration. A man had just been murdered. Listening to Dr. Harold’s insane theories would waste time and get him nowhere! The woman was a lunatic, a fanatic. If he had to listen to another one of her crazed theories, he was going to have to shoot himself. Jack groaned inwardly as Dr. Nicole Harold stepped up beside him. She was an exceptionally tall woman, thin like a model with no breasts to speak of, but she had a nice little body all the same.
If only she kept her mouth shut instead of constantly rambling on, Jack thought in agitation. Jack looked over at her, meeting her bright blue eyes.

  “Check his neck. There are two puncture wounds, just like before.” she blurted out, and it was all Jack could do not to roll his eyes heavenward. He peered down at the body making his own assessments. The man looked as if he had been in good shape, an athlete of some sort or a jogger perhaps? Jack stepped forward and crouched down low. Taking his flashlight, he nudged the victim’s head to the side and wasn’t surprised to see the two puncture wounds looking like two, tiny black holes in the man’s fleshy neck. Dr. Harold was a lunatic with her wild beliefs and theories, but she wasn’t a liar. She had told him that the holes would be there and they were.

  “That doesn’t mean the guy is without blood.” Jack flashed his light around on the paved ground for any sign of blood. Not a drop. How had that been accomplished? The last killing had been a bloodbath, red splattered everywhere like paint! This kill was different. It was more cleanly done. Simple. Clean. Precise. Puzzled, Jack stood to his tall height and continued to comb the area with curious, amber eyes.

  “Who found him?” Jack asked.

  One of the uniforms, a handsome young man who looked fresh out of high school, nodded back down the alley to where a Hispanic kid was being detained by two more uniformed officers.

  “The kid was screaming that a monster did this, Jack. He swears she drank the man’s blood.” Dr. Harold stepped in closer to whisper. Jack had to smile. It was just too insane. He turned, smiling at Dr. Harold. Her expression stayed the same however, drop dead serious as stone!

  “So, what? Your expert opinion, Dr. Harold, is that we’re dealing with a vampire here, a female vampire to be exact?” he scoffed in good humor.