The Vampire Hunters: Book I of The Vampire Hunters Trilogy

by Scott M. Baker

  Jim was the only one who talked, and no one at the police station believed him. Never having been briefed on how to handle this type of situation, Jim told his interrogators everything. About the existence of vampires. About what he had witnessed since joining the hunters. He even provided a detailed, blow-by-blow description of the battle at Wolf Trap. Jim never expected to be believed, and as such felt that he was not betraying Drake’s confidence. He figured his interrogators would consider him delusional at best, or more than likely completely divorced from reality. It would not have surprised Jim to know that the police had called in a psychiatrist to give him a mental evaluation.

  The psychiatrist never got the chance to talk with Jim.

  Shortly before seven the next morning, a female officer came down to the holding cells and took away Jessica, telling the reporter that her editor had posted bail. Twenty minutes later, a second officer came down for the hunters. They went through the by-now-familiar routine of checking out their belongings and signing forms.

  As the hunters exited the police station, Smith stood in the parking lot to greet them. As always, he wore a black Savile Row suit with a pink shirt and red silk tie. He leaned against their Ram, which had been towed here from the impound lot and parked in front of the station. Smith looked out of place, yet Drake had never been happier to see him. Upon seeing his protégées, Smith pushed himself off of the pick-up and walked across the parking lot to greet them. His face did not bear his usual pleasant professionalism.

  Drake grasped Smith’s hand with his right, giving it a hearty shake. “You don’t know how glad we are to see you.”

  “I bet.”

  Alison stepped forward and gave Smith a quick, friendly hug. “What would we do without you?”

  “Probably ten to twenty, with time off for good behavior.” Not knowing how to respond to the hug, Smith gave Alison a gentle pat on the back with his right hand, then stepped back.

  “Consider us job security,” said Drake.

  “Then I can’t wait until retirement,” Smith said with a grin. He quickly grew serious again. “How many did you take out this time?”

  “Eight snuffies and a master,” said Drake. “A second master got away, but she’s banged up pretty bad.”

  “But she’ll regenerate, right?”

  “Not fully. A lot of the damage was caused by holy water. She’s going to carry quite a few scars around with her.”

  “Good. If she’s marked up, she won’t be able to travel around so easily. With luck, you can track her down before she rebuilds the nest.”

  Drake agreed, but knew the team would need a few days off before they could go out again. “Do you know where Jessica is?”

  Smith gestured over his shoulder to the other end of the parking lot. Jessica stood beside a dark green Saturn ten spaces down from the Ram, talking to a man.

  “Who’s that?” asked Drake.

  “Dan Philips, her editor. He had already bailed her out when I arrived, otherwise I would have. I assume in the future I’ll be looking out for her, too?”

  Drake looked over at Jessica, admiring how good she looked in her business suit despite it being covered with dust and dirt, and despite having spent the last two days on the edge of hell. “I hope so.”

  “As if you don’t get into enough trouble already.” Smith adjusted his suit jacket and pulled on the sleeves. “If you’re all set, I’ll be going.”

  Smith left the parking lot and walked down the street, presumably to his car that was parked away from prying eyes. At the same time, Jessica and Dan finished their conversation. Dan moved to the door of the Saturn, giving Drake a suspicious look before getting in. As Dan started the engine and pulled out of the parking space, Jessica walked over to Drake.

  Jessica threw her arms around Drake and gave him a hug. “I’m glad to see you’re all right.”

  Drake’s cracked ribs burned with pain, but he was not about to complain. Placing his arms around Jessica’s waist, he hugged back. He could not help but notice how warm she felt against him. “You knew I survived.”

  “I was referring to you spending another night in casa de copland.”

  “I’m practically a Gold Card member.” Drake broke the hug, but kept his hands on her hips. He motioned to where she had been talking to Dan a few minutes earlier. “How did you make out with your editor?”

  “He took it much better than I thought.”

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because I fed him the biggest line of bullshit in my career.”

  “Which is?”

  “That you’re really one of the good guys.”

  “Thanks. I think.”

  Jessica smiled embarrassingly. “Because of the three-hundred-year-old bone fragments ashes found at the Woodrow Wilson Bridge, he thought you were involved with grave robbing. I told him you’re a private investigator working to crack open an organ harvesting ring.”

  “And he believed you?”

  “Not fully. But when you’re dealing with old bone fragments, unexplained murders, disappearing bodies, and a morgue massacre, it’s the best I could come up with. Besides, it’s a lot easier than accepting the existence if vampires. So he’ll believe it.” Jessica grinned. “For now.”

  “So Dan likes me?” Drake joked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far. But there’ll be no expose of you on the front page of The Standard.”

  Drake smiled. It was nice to see that Jessica could maintain a sense of humor despite last night. You needed one to maintain your sanity in this job. But he knew his next question would break that mood.

  “How did you explain Bill’s death?”

  Jessica dropped her head, momentarily avoiding eye contact. “I told him Bill called me two nights ago saying he had knocked up his girlfriend and needed a while to straighten things out. If Bill never shows up again, Dan will just assume he ran out on her.” A tear rolled down Jessica’s cheek.

  “How are you doing?” Drake asked.

  Jessica sniffed. “I’m alive.”

  “In my line of work, that’s a major accomplishment.”

  “As I’ve learned. The hard way.” Jessica wiped her eyes. “So what’s next?”

  “The female master escaped. As long as she’s alive, she can rebuild the nest. We need to kill her quickly if we want to close down this nest once and for all.”

  “That’ll make one hell of a story.”

  “I think that can be arranged.” Drake liked the idea of having Jessica around more often. “Though you’ll never get Dan to publish it.”

  “I’ll use it in my memoirs.” She smiled again, then fidgeted from one foot to the other. “You know, I never said thank you for saving my life.”

  “That’s what I get paid for.”

  “What you did….” Jessica looked beyond Drake to where Alison and Jim stood by the Ram. “…what you all did was more than just your job. You put your lives on the line for me. Thanks.”

  Alison stood with her arms folded across her chest. She nodded and forced a smile. Jim responded with a half-hearted salute.

  Jessica looked at her watch. “It’s still early. Why don’t I take you to supper?”

  “That’s great,” chimed in Jim. “I’m starving.”

  “I’m sorry. I meant the invitation only for….” Jessica became embarrassed.

  Drake tried to help her out. “What Jessica meant was that she wants to interview me privately about last night.”

  “No,” said Jessica. “I’m asking you out on a date.”

  Drake did not expect this turn of events. Not that it was unpleasant. He found Jessica attractive. It would be nice to spend time with her when the topic of conversation did not revolve around vampires. After spending so many months battling the undead, he could stand to do some living for a change. Drake could not think of anything he would rather do right now than spend the next few hours with Jessica.

  Except for one thing.

  “Can I take a rain check on dinner?�
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  “Oh. Okay.” Drake’s response took Jessica by surprise. “Don’t feel that you have to…”

  “I want to have dinner with you. There’s just something I need to take care of first.”

  A taxi pulled into the parking lot and stopped in front of the police station. Drake turned to Alison. “I’m going to catch a ride back into Washington. Would you mind taking Jim and Jessica home?”

  Alison nodded. “That you pay me enough to do.”

  “Thanks.” And to Jessica, “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

  Drake raced across the parking lot, hailing the taxi. Having dropped of his passenger, the driver had started to pull away, but stopped when he heard Drake. Drake opened the door and jumped into the back. Within seconds, the taxi pulled out of the lot and turned onto the main street.

  Jessica watched the taxi depart, then turned to the others. “Did I say something wrong?”

  “Nope.” Jim circled behind the Ram and got into the right rear passenger seat. “Drake treats everyone that way.”

  “Don’t listen to him,” comforted Alison. “If Drake wasn’t interested, he would have said so. He just has something he needs to take care of first. Come on, let’s go home.”

  * * *

  IT HURT TO OPEN the apartment door. As Drake turned the key, his arm muscles throbbed. After last night, it hurt even to breathe. He really should have gone directly to the hospital, but first needed to take care of something more important. With an effort that seemed Herculean under the circumstances, he turned the knob and stepped inside.

  A reassuring sound greeted Drake as he entered—Van Helsing racing around his cage, happy that his human companion had come home. Drake lumbered down the hall, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth in greeting. When he entered the dining room, Van Helsing hopped from one side of his cage to the other. Drake stepped over to the table and opened the cage door. Van Helsing hopped out onto the table and, for the first time ever, jumped into Drake’s arms. Even that hurt, but Drake did not mind. Gently wrapping his arms around his companion, Drake hugged Van Helsing. It was difficult to tell who was more appreciative of seeing the other.

  Placing Van Helsing on the floor, Drake gave him a loving pat on the rump, sending the rabbit on a happy jaunt through the apartment. Drake made his way into the kitchen. He could use a hot meal, but settled for three shots of Baker’s Bourbon in a tumbler. Taking the tumbler with him into the bathroom, Drake removed two Aleve tablets from their bottle, popped them into his mouth, and rinsed them down with the bourbon.

  Though he did not have the energy, Drake forced himself to strip and climb into the shower. The first burst of water hurt when it struck his skin. Once the stream heated and the pulsing action kicked in, he was glad he opted for the shower. His muscles went from a throb to a dull ache. More importantly, the shower relieved some of the tension in his mind.

  A major battle against the vampires had been won. Miraculously, each of the hunters had survived. Wiping out a master and an entire nest was a plus. A very gratifying one. None of that negated the fact that a master escaped. Although he hoped the master would be smart enough to leave Washington and reestablish its nest elsewhere, reality warned him that the master would more than likely stay in the area. If it did, it would be pissed off and would be looking for revenge. This war was far from over.

  Drake would deal with that later. Right now, he required rest more than anything else.

  Drake turned off the faucets. When he opened the shower door, Van Helsing lay sprawled on the mat, patiently waiting. Drake petted him with a wet hand, then chuckled as his friend hopped off into a corner and shook the water off of his head. Grabbing a towel off of the rack, Drake dried himself.

  Ten minutes later, he trudged into his living room and collapsed into his reclining chair. Chugging down the last of the bourbon, Drake placed the empty glass on the end table and reclined. Almost immediately, he heard the patter of running feet and a thump as Van Helsing jumped onto his lap. With a single hop, Van Helsing moved onto Drake’s chest and presented himself, the large brown eyes begging for affection. Drake took the floppy ears between his thumb and index finger, and gently massaged.

  After a minute, Drake began to doze. Van Helsing flopped over and settled down on Drake’s chest, clicking his teeth, happy to have him home. As for Drake, for the first time in days he dozed off and slept like the dead.

  Not the undead, as he had feared.

  Acknowledgements

  Although writing is one of the loneliest professions, many people are involved in transferring the author’s ideas into print.

  First, I want to thank Miles Boothe of Emby Press for wanting to publish The Vampire Hunters and eventually expand upon the story. I greatly appreciate his passion for keeping the trilogy alive. I also want to thank Christine Page for her excellent editorial support.

  A shout out is necessary to Kim (Criss) Pivac of George Mason University, a forensics expert who reviewed the autopsy scene for accuracy, and Renee Buhr, a Wisconsin native who provided background information for Jessica’s early journalistic career. As with all of my books, I often seek the advice of experts to make it sound like I know what I’m talking about. However, any errors are solely my responsibility.

  The biggest thanks goes to my wife, Alison. She is my biggest fan, colleague, and soul mate. We would never have met if it wasn’t for The Vampire Hunters, so this novel has a special place in our lives.

  About the author

  Scott M. Baker is a horror/urban fantasy author who currently lives in Florida with his wife, stepdaughter, two boxers, a cat and a house rabbit. His published novels include The Vampire Hunters trilogy and the Rotter World series. You can find Scott at scottmbakerauthor.blogspot.com and on Facebook at facebook.com/ScottMBakerAuthor.