Tony and his two gunmen watched transfixed as Razvan and Dumitra thrashed wildly about. The fires were intent on consuming them. Shortly, Tony awakened from his astonishment and turned his attention to the two lab techs hiding at the far end of the room. They were clearly more concerned with the shooting than the fire.
“Do something!” Tony yelled.
The two lab techs promptly suppressed their fears and took up fire extinguishers. They jumped to the task of dousing Razvan and Dumitra with liberal amounts of the container’s contents. Tony took a moment to see that the lab techs complied with his instructions. Several seconds later, he turned his attention to his two gunmen.
“Go after them!”
The gunmen setoff for the basement door at a run. The gunman with the shotgun was in the process of reloading as he went. The last of the flames on Razvan and Dumitra were extinguished by the time the two gunmen reached the top of the stairs. The lab techs then turned their attentions to the ancillary fires about the room. Once relieved of the flames, Razvan and Dumitra took several minutes to peel off the remnants of their burnt outer garments, wincing in pain from the effort of it. When his task was finished, Razvan angrily threw his suitcoat to the floor. He and Dumitra’s heads, arms and torsos were covered in burns. Tony was shocked by the sight of them, and even more surprised by Razvan and Dumitra’s tolerance for the injuries to their bodies. They appeared to be acting out of anger more than pain.
“Where are they?” Razvan barked out in fury.
Tony noted that Razvan kept his eyes tightly closed while frowning in agony as he spoke. During his wait for an answer, he made repeated attempts at opening his eyes despite the irritation within them. It was clear to Tony that Razvan was practically blind.
“Well!” Razvan shouted with impatience. “Where are they?”
The sound of Razvan’s shouts drew Dumitra to his side. Her eyesight appeared to be in the same condition as his. She rarely opened her eyes because of the pain and irritation that came with that act.
“They’re gone,” the gunman with the handgun shouted as he raced back into the basement.
The gunman with the shotgun raced in behind the first. They were breathing heavily from their exertion.
“Find them! And kill the girl,” Razvan ordered at the top of his lungs.
“They’re on the street,” the first gunman complained. “We can’t gun them down out in the open. She’s a cop!”
With a fierce grimace on his face, Razvan stepped over to where the first gunman was standing. He, in turn, inched backwards. Razvan grabbed the gunman by the shirt, lifted him off his feet and brought his face to within five inches of his own. Much of Razvan’s face was disfigured with burn injuries. His expression was furious and when he spoke, the uncharred features inside his mouth stood out in contrast to his outer features.
“Find them! I need that cop dead.”
Razvan tossed the gunman backwards after issuing his decree. The force of the shove caused him to fall to the floor. Razvan paused a moment to recover from the exhaustion of manhandling the gunman.
“They can’t be far. They’re on foot. Find them!”
The gunmen quickly looked to Tony for his approval. After a moment of thought, Tony gave them a nod of his head. The gunmen gave each other a knowing look then raced out the basement door and up the stairs in search of their prey. When the sound of their movements died away, Razvan turned his attention to what he could hear in the basement.
“Who else is down here?” Razvan questioned angrily.
“Just the chemists,” Tony answered with a hint of panic.
“Get them out,” Razvan ordered with a growl.
The lab techs listened to every word. They took off an instant after Tony waved them out. When they were halfway up the stairs, Tony turned his attention back to Razvan and waited for more instructions. There was silence for several seconds as Razvan and Dumitra continued to struggle with the irritation in their eyes.
“Damnit!” Razvan exclaimed angrily.
Razvan fumed over this turn of events for several seconds, grumbling and grinding his teeth. Dumitra said nothing as she dealt with the discomfort she felt in her eyes with soft moans and deep breaths. Shortly, a cellphone was heard vibrating from Razvan’s discarded suitcoat on the floor. After recognizing it was his phone, Razvan knelt and retrieved it. With some effort, he was able to see that the incoming call was from Lucian. He looked suspiciously at the cellphone in his hand for several seconds. Lucian had made three attempts to reach him over the past half-hour; he ignored those calls. He knew that Lucian was looking for Cristiãn, and he had no intention of telling him anything. But now the situation was different. Now he needed to know where Cristiãn was, and what he was doing. With this concern in mind, he completed the connection.
First, Razvan listened to Lucian’s question, then he ignored it in favor of what he wanted to say.
“He’s got her,” Razvan reported testily. “Cristiãn took Tremaine and he’s gone.”
Razvan listened to Lucian’s response.
“How the hell should I know?” Razvan returned with anger.
Once again there was a moment of silence as Razvan listened. Seconds later he responded with a mix of temper and desperation in his voice.
“Cristiãn and that girl must be found. We’re in this together now, Lucian. There’s no telling what Cristiãn might do to protect that mortal.”
Razvan went quiet as he listened to Lucian again.
“Call him,” Razvan asserted from this end of the call. “Promise him anything but stop him.”
Razvan listened with a growing look of fury but merely grumbled softly.
“So, what are you going to do?” Razvan queried angrily.
Razvan listened intently to Lucian’s response before blurting out another question.
“Where are you?”
The answer was brief as was Razvan’s reply.
“I’m coming.”
Razvan disconnected the call then began to ponder something that caused him to turn his attention to the floor. Dumitra picked up on his musing through their vampire bond. She moved in next to him, matching her mood to his. Tony could see that their eyesight had much improved—the irritant seeming to have lessened. They were extremely disheveled: dirty, tattered and scorched clothing; their hair an equal mess. Their faces were masks of burnt skin, dried blood and scar tissue. With their heads low, they fixed their attentions inwards.
After several seconds of silence, Tony felt emboldened enough to break they’re concentration.
“Okay, so what do we do now?” Tony asked with a frown. “This is your mess—your area of expertise. What’s going to happen and how do we fix it?”
Neither Razvan nor Dumitra bothered to look at Tony when he spoke. A few seconds after, they looked up at him, lifting their heads slightly with upturned eyes. They held their gaze upon him for several seconds as they considered their options. Then they looked to each other out of the corner of their eyes. They had come to a decision.
“Relax, Tony,” Razvan said wearily while moving toward him. “We’ll take care of it.”
Tony was slightly unnerved by Razvan’s presence directly in front of him. He inched back a little and hesitantly replied, “Okay.”
“We will fix this. I promise,” Razvan assured with a smile.
Tony tried to relax a little. Then suddenly, Razvan grabbed him by the arm, snatched him forward until they were chest-to-chest and bared his teeth with a growl. His canines were much larger than they were a few seconds earlier. They looked like fangs to Tony, and the sight of them terrified him. Dumitra hurried over to Tony with her fangs bared. Tony screamed as Razvan sank his teeth into his neck. A second later, Dumitra sunk hers into his inner wrist. It took a little more than a minute for them to drink him into unconsciousness and little more than five to drink him dead. When they had both taken their fill of him, Razvan placed his body in the freezer chest that he had secured for Cassidy. Before closing the lid, Razvan bit into the fleshy part of his hand and drained a small amount of his blood into Tony’s mouth.
~~~~~line break~~~~~
“Wait!” Cristiãn called out as he grabbed Cassidy’s arm and brought them both to a stop.
Cristiãn recognized the make, model and color of the car that just had turned onto the street as the same one that had picked him up at the garage.
“What is it?” Cassidy asked, confused and surprised.
Cristiãn saw that the two occupants of the car were the gunmen they had just escaped minutes earlier. He suspected they were there to kill Cassidy. He had no doubt that Razvan had given them that order. Cristiãn hoped that the moderately active community they were in, with its assortment of small retail stores, would deter Razvan’s mortal cohorts from attempting any acts of violence, but he seriously doubted that that would be the case.
“It’s them,” Cristiãn reported while holding his gaze on the car.
Cassidy noted the car that Cristiãn was looking at just as he tugged her away from the street. The four-story building next to them had a for sale banner attached to the front fire escape. The windows from the second story up were boarded over. The ground floor store fronts were covered by their role down metal shutters. Cristiãn hurried over to the building’s front door.
“We have to get off the street.”
Cristiãn tried the door of the building and discovered it was locked just as the Buick LaCrosse began speeding toward them. He immediately grabbed the doorknob with both hands and ripped it out of its housing. He then tossed the knob aside and opened the door.
The exertion it took to open the door nearly brought Cristiãn to his knees and caused his breathing to become labored. Cassidy grabbed him to give support and found him unusually warm to the touch. With her arm around his waist, she helped him through the doorway to the darkened staircase on the other side which disappeared into an equally dark second floor. Cristiãn stumbled to a stop at the foot of the stairs and dropped to one knee. With his free arm, he grabbed the railing to stop himself from going all the way down to the floor. Within seconds, they heard a car screech to a stop in front of the building.
“We’ve got to go up,” Cristiãn said as he pulled himself back up onto his feet and started to ascend the stairs.
Cassidy continued to assist him up the stairs. She thought his ascent was surprisingly swift considering how exhausted he was just moments earlier, but he nearly collapsed from exhaustion as they reached the top. When they heard someone at the door at the foot of the stairs, Cristiãn pulled her away from the light coming through door. They listened silently without moving for several seconds but heard no sound of movement at the door below. Cristiãn finally signaled with a hand gesture for Cassidy to follow him.
The landing on the second floor turned out into a hallway that went the length of the building. The windows, at either end of the hallway, were boarded over. Light seeping through the sides of the boards barely provided enough illumination for Cassidy to see as she moved through the hallway. The air was stale and moldy. There were only two apartments on that floor—one at either end. All the external and interior doors to the apartments had been removed.
Cristiãn led toward the front of the building and the next staircase as quietly as he could. Cassidy’s steps were hampered by low light and the debris strewn about the floor. When they reached the front end of the hall, they climbed the staircase to the third floor with as much stealth as possible. To Cassidy’s surprise, Cristiãn’s breathing was much improved. She had yet to understand that the darkness inside the building was providing him relief from the sunlight. Along with their slow and quiet movements, Cristiãn’s stamina began to improve.
As they climbed to the third floor, they still heard no sound from the ground floor. Cristiãn was more aware of the silence than Cassidy. His hearing was more acute than human ears could be. He knew there was one person at the ground floor landing of the stairwell; he or she had not started to ascend the stairs yet. When they reached the third floor, Cristiãn went back to the front of the building. The configuration and condition of the third floor was essentially identical to the second—only darker.
“Come-on,” Cristiãn whispered as he started to creep up the staircase to the fourth floor with Cassidy in tow.
Halfway up the staircase, Cristiãn heard the voices of two men floating up the stairwell. He could barely make out the question, “where are they?” He faintly heard part of the reply: “…a couple of floors.” When Cristiãn and Cassidy reached the fourth-floor landing, they made their way to the apartment at the rear of the building and then into the bedroom furthest from the apartment door.
~~~~~line break~~~~~
Charlie Panko and Ben Dalby were Tony McGuire’s trusted associates. Tony knew he could count on them to act on his behalf with the same ruthlessness as he; this is why he sent them to kill Detective Tremaine. He knew they would do as he commanded.
When Charlie and Ben left to find Cassidy, they both thought there was a better than even chance that they would find them. They knew that Cristiãn and Cassidy were on foot, but they also knew that with the passage of time that situation could and likely would change. Cristiãn and Cassidy were less than five minutes ahead of them, so they believed them to be in the vicinity and still on foot.
After getting their kill order from Tony, Charlie and Ben rushed out after Cristiãn and Cassidy. They began their search by cruising the neighborhood. The open gate was a strong indicator of the direction they took. Charlie saw them not ten minutes into their hunt.
“There!” Charlie called out.
It was their movement more than their appearance that gave them away. Out of a dozen pedestrians on the block, Cristiãn and Cassidy were the only two that scurried off the sidewalk. Ben followed Charlie’s point to the man and woman couple at the far end of the block. He, in turn, steered the Buick La Crosse in that direction at the best possible speed the traffic would allow.
“Park the car and follow me,” Charlie barked back as he climbed out of the vehicle.
Charlie slammed the door behind him and then ran over to the door that Cristiãn and Cassidy disappeared behind. He quickly noted that the door was unlatched. He was in no hurry to rush inside. He did not know where Cristiãn was on the other side, and he did not want to take his semi-automatic pistol from beneath his jacket in full view of pedestrians. He waited by the side of the door and listened for sounds through the small opening between the door and its frame. As he stood listening, he also watched the passersby on the sidewalk. When there was no one on the sidewalk close enough to see, Charlie pulled out his pistol then pushed the door a quarter of the way open with his foot.
The door’s wider opening did not enable him to hear any movement or talking inside. After listening for several seconds, he inched his head out around the door frame and looked inside the building. He could see that there was no place for anyone to hide. The door opened onto the ground floor landing of a staircase that went up to the second floor. The staircase filled the entire width of the area then rose into a darkness that intensified as it went up. Emboldened by the knowledge that there was no one nearby to harm him, Charlie slipped into the stairwell quietly. He then stopped at the foot of the stairs and listened to the sounds of movement on the second floor.
Charlie knew little about the vampires, and what he did know came from Tony. His information was limited to the fact that they had an indeterminate lifespan and that severing their heads from their bodies was an effective way of killing them. That was enough information to make him reluctant to go up the stairs. The battle at the drug lab told him that their ability to endure gunshot wounds was much higher than that of a mortal. That one fact convinced him not to go up the stairs alone.
Several minutes had passed when Ben joined Charlie in the stairwell. He carried his sawed-off shotgun in his hand wrapped under his jacket. The sight of Charlie inside gave Ben the confidence to hurry in. He stopped just past the threshold and waited for instructions. Charlie gave him a brief look then turned his attention back up the stairwell.
“Where are they?” Ben asked in a hushed voice.
“I think they’re a couple of floors up,” Charlie answered softly.
After a moment, Charlie nodded toward the door. Ben understood that he should shut the door despite the darkness inside the building. Closing the door made sense to Ben; the use of their weapons would echo out onto the sidewalk. Immediately after shutting the door, Ben unwrapped his shotgun and brought it to the ready.
“I don’t suppose you have a flashlight?” Charlie asked softly.
Ben responded with a shake of his head. Charlie then nodded for Ben to lead the ascent up the stairs. Slowly and one step at a time, Ben led, and Charlie followed five steps behind, both listening for sounds of movement above. The silence continued as they made their way to the second floor. Charlie joined Ben at the top of the stairs and briefly scanned the floor in both directions. He admonished Ben from doing anything more on that floor with a shake of his head. He was confident that Cristiãn and Cassidy were not on the second floor.
Ben moved on down the hall to continue up the stairs at the front of the building. Charlie followed three steps behind. One after the other, they cautiously ascended the stairs to the third floor. They heard no sound of movement during their ascent. Ben searched the floor while holding his shotgun at the ready. Charlie remained several steps behind. The absence of doors and furniture made the search relatively brief. Charlie routinely held his position near the doorway of each apartment as Ben walked through with his shotgun ready for action. When they finished going through both apartments, they proceeded to the fourth floor.
Charlie had little doubt that Cristiãn and Cassidy were somewhere on this floor. He knew that if they had ripped a plank from a window and clamored down the fire escape the sound of those actions would have resounded throughout the building. That knowledge motivated Charlie to search the floor much slower and with much more care than the levels below. He communicated his intention to Ben with a palm down hand gesture.
They started with the rear apartment—Charlie following Ben as he crept down the hall and stopping just past the doorway. Ben was halfway through the apartment, between the front room and the kitchen, when he came to a stop. Charlie was briefly startled when Ben came to an abrupt standstill. He thought Ben might have heard or seen something, but seconds later, Charlie’s alarm subsided as Ben appeared indifferent to his surroundings. As Charlie relaxed, he became confused by Ben’s posture as he suddenly went limp. His arms drooped down to his sides. His shotgun fell out of his left hand and dangled down toward the floor in his right. Charlie thought to move up to investigate Ben’s physical manner, but his thoughts became diffused and he suddenly began to feel dizzy.
~~~~~line break~~~~~
Cristiãn and Cassidy had been hiding in the bedroom of the rear fourth floor apartment for more than five minutes. They stood in the corner furthest from the doorway. Cassidy heard only two men climbing the stairs from the second to the third floor. Cristiãn heard them from the moment they entered the building. He began to smell them when they reached the second floor.
The sound of them moving up the stairs to the third floor prompted Cristiãn into action. Without notice to Cassidy or hesitation, he bit into the fleshy part of his left palm behind his thumb. Cassidy watched him in complete bewilderment. She gasped when he faced her, and the light reflected off his eyes. Cristiãn quickly brought his finger up to his lips signaling quiet.
“I need you to drink some of my blood,” Cristiãn whispered.
Cassidy back away from Cristiãn’s predatory eyes and shook her head in shock.
“You have to drink some of my blood,” Cristiãn insisted in a whisper.
“I’m not drinking your blood,” Cassidy whispered back as she pressed herself against the wall behind her.
Cristiãn could see that Cassidy was not going to comply with his instruction and he knew they had no time for explanation or discussion. Cristiãn mentally set his heart to racing ten times faster than usual for a mortal and inched himself closer to Cassidy. He stared into her eyes as he gauged the heat radiating off his body. A couple of seconds later, Cassidy went rigid with her mind lapsing into a fugue state too deep for her to dispel.
“Tilt your head back,” Cristiãn whispered.
Cassidy complied without any sign of resistance.
“Open your mouth,” Cristiãn instructed softly.
Again, Cassidy did as instructed with a dazed expression. Cristiãn then held his bleeding hand over her open mouth and allowed half a dozen drops of his blood to fall into it.
“Swallow,” Cristiãn instructed.
Cassidy did as she was told, then Cristiãn turned and quietly moved to the center of the room and focused his attention on the sounds coming from the stairwell. He effectively ignored Cassidy as he listened to the sounds get closer. His heart continued to pump rapidly as he waited and listened. Cassidy began to awaken from her trance. Her eye lids began to blink, and her head began to move. Her dazed expression turned into a look of confusion. Cristiãn looked around to witness the revival of her consciousness. Cassidy brought her hand up and wiped the blood from her face. She went into wide-eyed shock at the sight of blood on her fingers. Cristiãn quickly brought his finger up to his lips again to silence her. Cassidy said nothing, but her shocked expression remained for several seconds before it transitioned into seething anger.
Over the next minute, they listened to the sounds being created by the two men coming up the stairwell and down the hall. After another thirty seconds, they could hear the men in the apartment, and one of them was in the hall that led to the room they were in. Cristiãn held his position in the center of the room while Cassidy held her gaze on him from the corner. Each step the man in the hall took raised the level of her terror and then, to her surprise, the man stopped moving. Several seconds passed without a sound from either of them, then Cristiãn went slowly into motion.
Cristiãn found Ben standing in the hall in a stupor with his shotgun dangling by his side. Beyond him, Charlie stood at the mouth of the hall with a dazed and confused expression. His head moved back and forth, and his eyes blinked as if irritated. Cristiãn immediately recognized their conditions, then he started toward them at a hurried and deliberate pace. He grabbed Ben by the top of his shirt with his right hand and lifted him off the floor. He then used his left hand to strip away the shotgun and toss it aside. His anger drove him to ram Ben back and forth against the left and right walls again and again in rapid succession. He then dropped Ben to the floor as if tossing a bag of garbage.
Cassidy moved to the bedroom’s doorway in time to see Cristiãn charge Charlie. The gunman looked bewildered. He tried to raise his pistol at Cristiãn, but his effort was too slow and uncoordinated. Cristiãn raced up to him, grabbed him by his head and shoulders, and then bit into his neck. Cassidy was shocked by his speed and ferocity. She watched as Cristiãn sucked Charlie’s blood from his body and then drop his listless body to the floor.
When Cristiãn turned to face Cassidy, she was shocked to the point of terror. His eyes glistened like the headlights of a car in a fog. A low vibration seemed to reverberate through his entire body. He was no more than a silhouette in the building’s dark interior. She could not see the details of his face from that distance, but his posture suggested that he was much invigorated by his meal. A moment later, he began to move toward her at a deliberate pace. Out of terror, Cassidy took a quick step back. Cristiãn stopped at Ben’s body on the floor, pulled him up to a stance with his back against the wall and began to feed off him. He was done in less than thirty seconds. Cristiãn released his body to fall back to the floor and then he turned and look at Cassidy.
At that distance, Cassidy could barely see Cristiãn’s elongated canines. There was a darkness around his mouth that she assumed was blood. His eyes continued to reflect the small about of diffuse light within the rooms. Again, there was a rumble vibrating deep within Cristiãn’s chest, and just for a second, Cassidy feared she was next.
Cristiãn swiftly turned around and wiped the blood from his face with his sleeve and broke off the ends of his fangs with his index finger and thumb. When he turned away from Cassidy, she began to believe she would be okay. When he turned to face her again, she noticed the absence of his fangs and the glistening light from his eyes. She exhaled with relief.
“Let’s get out of here,” Cristiãn suggested as he stooped down to search through Ben’s pockets.
As Cassidy took several deep, calming breaths, Cristiãn found Ben’s keys. Then in a quick succession of motions, he made his way to the apartment’s exit. Cassidy hesitantly stepped over Ben and set off behind Cristiãn. In the main room, she stopped next to Charlie’s body and quickly collected his gun from the floor. She hesitated there for a moment to take note of his breathing, then she stood up and shoved the gun into her holster beneath her jacket. Cristiãn was halfway down the common hallway when Cassidy started moving again.
“Are they dying?” Cassidy asked as she followed Cristiãn down the stairs.
Cassidy wanted to know if Charlie’s breathing was a temporary condition.
“I doubt it,” Cristiãn answered as he hurried down the stairs.
“What does the mean?” Cassidy asked.
Cristiãn continued down the stairs as he responded to Cassidy’s questions.
“I wasn’t trying to kill them.”
“Then what’s wrong with them?” Cassidy huffed as she raced to keep up with Cristiãn.
“It’s the pheromones,” Cristiãn called back as he completed the last few steps above the ground floor. “I pumped out enough to sedate an elephant.”
“Cristiãn stopped at the exit to the building and looked back at Cassidy to give what he hoped would be the last words on the subject.
“They should start waking up in about twenty minutes.”
Cristiãn waited briefly as Cassidy’s mind swirled with thoughts but produced no immediate question. Then he pushed open the door and hurried out onto the sidewalk with Cassidy following his lead. Cristiãn immediately began to scan the street for the Buick LaCrosse.
“Come on,” Cristiãn encouraged after spotting the car half a block down.
Cristiãn set off for the car at a hurried pace, unlocking all four doors with a press of a button on the key fob on the way. Cassidy did her best to keep up. He quickly opened the door and slipped into the driver’s seat and Cassidy hurried into the front passenger’s seat. A few seconds later, the car was moving down the street at the best speed the traffic could bear.
As Cristiãn drove, he noticed Cassidy’s expression of amazed curiosity while she stared at his hands. He realized her amazement was due to his newly grown half inch-long fingernails.
“It happens when I’m about to feed,” Cristiãn began explaining apprehensively. “My metabolism goes hyperactive and my—predator side takes over.”
Cassidy studied Cristiãn’s face for a long moment before a question came to mind.
“So, you’re a vampire?” Cassidy queried more to confirm to herself.
Before responding, Cristiãn quickly glanced at Cassidy.
“Vampire, Strigoi, Fantoma, Monstru, Incubi, Succubi, Dibbuk, Zombie, Demonul, Varcolac, Werewolf, we have been called many things,” Cristiãn explained. “Vampire is the name that mortals of this time have become attached to.”
Cassidy studied Cristiãn as he drove. His face looked as if it had regained twenty to thirty years over the past half hour. His wounds were no longer bleeding, but his white shirt was clearly stained with his blood. Her thoughts reached for something she heard him say.
“I thought Werewolves and Vampires were different—monsters?” she asked, a little confused.
“That appears to be the universal misconception among mortals,” Cristiãn said with a hint of indifference.
“What does that mean?” Cassidy pressed for more.
Cristiãn could hear in her voice that she wanted to understand, and he could think of no reason to deny her an explanation given their present circumstance.
“Your ancestors at different times in history, and often in different locations, had different names for the same thing. What you mortals called werewolves were just starving vampires that had gone crazy from several days, if not weeks, without sleep.”
Cassidy looked at him with wide-eyed bewilderment. Cristiãn looked at her briefly and saw that more information was required.
“It was common for such a vampire to roam about the countryside at night searching for rodents and small animals to eat since larger prey roamed farther afield and were harder to find. There was also the problem of catching and subduing large prey animals. This was usually far more difficult to accomplish and always more exhausting. Mortals were the one exception. An unsuspecting mortal moving alone in the dark was the easiest prey of all—fat with meat and blood and a delicacy that few starving vampires could let pass.”
“Why couldn’t they sleep?” Cassidy asked.
“They were too afraid to sleep,” Cristiãn answered with a shrug. “We are at our most vulnerable when we sleep. We sleep like the dead. Our hearts beat two to three times an hour when we slumber. Breathing is superfluous in this state. Sounds and feelings take several minutes to register in our brains. The slayers murdered most of our kind while we slept. It took a brave Strigoi to close his eyes.”
“So, you’re not already dead?” Cassidy questioned with some surprise in her voice.
“That was a lie made up to convince mortals that we’re less than human,” Cristiãn sharply returned while he continued to drive with determination.
“Aren’t you?” Cassidy challenged the idea.
Her question took Cristiãn by surprise. He quickly looked at her to confirm her accusatory tone.
“Our capacity for humanitarian behavior is no more or less than yours.” Cristiãn flatly stated.
“Oh really, and what was humanitarian about seducing me?” Cassidy quickly countered testily.
“I was protecting you,” Cristiãn sternly insisted.
“Bullshit!”
Cassidy’s objection to his argument was provoked by fear that she was manipulated by a man that had no feelings for her.
“You don’t get it,” Cristiãn asserted. “Razvan and Dumitra were going to kill you. You were supposed to die in that warehouse fire. The only way I could protect you was by staying near you.”
His explanation did nothing to soothe Cassidy’s anger; she felt violated and fumed for several seconds before a new thought took hold of her.
“Why didn’t your pheromones affect me?” Cassidy asked.
Cristiãn gave Cassidy another quick look and noted that her anger had subsided. So, he squashed his defenses and responded in a mild tone of voice.
“It’s my blood. It made you immune.”
His answer sent Cassidy into a state of emotional shock.
“What?” Cassidy blurted out. “Did you change…”
Cristiãn instantly noted her panic and quickly spoke to dispel it.
“No, I didn’t turn you.”
Cassidy was not satisfied by his answer.
“Your sister said that drinking vampire blood is what turns humans into vampires.”
“It does,” Cristiãn agreed with a nod while holding his attention on the road. “But not in this case.”
“Why not in this case?” Cassidy asked angrily.
Cristiãn knew that Cassidy needed a thorough explanation for her peace of mind. He took a moment to organize his thoughts before explaining what she needed to know.
“Yes, it’s our blood that turns mortals into immortals. But you must die first for that to happen. If a living mortal ingests our blood or applies it to an open wound it does the same thing for them that it does for us. But it only works for the area that it’s applied to and only for a short time.”
Cassidy’s expression showed that she understood his explanation, but she was still curious.
“So, it would repair that area the same way that your blood is repairing you?” Cassidy asked with a puzzled look.
“Exactly,” Cristiãn answered. “Only the effect would stop when your immune system fights off the infection.”
Cassidy pondered this information until a new question popped into her head.
“Okay, then what does it repair when we drink vampire blood?”
Cristiãn gave her question a moment of thought then shrugged.
“I suppose if you have a head cold, it will take care of that.”
“That’s it?”
“Other than making you temporarily resistant to the intoxicating affects of our pheromone aura, yes.” Cristiãn explained as though he did not know what else to say. “It doesn’t change you, Cassidy.”
Cassidy thought for a moment and concluded that there was nothing to worry about. At the end of her analysis, she began a search for a new inquiry into the world of vampires. After several seconds, her mind went to an event that happened when they escaped from the Ecstasy lab.
“What’s up with the mustard powder?” Cassidy asked with a hint of whimsy in her tone “I thought vampires were supposed to be allergic to garlic.”
“We are,” Cristiãn answered softly. “Our bodies respond adversely to most seasonings if we ingest, or inhale them, or if they get into our eyes—but mustard is the worst. Twelve-hundred years ago, nobody knew about mustard seeds.”
Cassidy took this in with amazement. Shortly after hearing his answer, she looked up and turned her attention to the street they were traveling on.
“Where are you taking me?” Cassidy asked.
“I’m not taking you anywhere,” Cristiãn said softly. “I’m taking me to my car.”
Cassidy was thinking about his answer when Cristiãn brought the car to a stop outside of a parking garage. He promptly put the car in park then turned to face her.
“This is where I leave, Detective Tremaine,” Cristiãn informed her somberly.
Cristiãn took a moment to examine Cassidy with a look of dread, then he pulled his cellphone out of his suitcoat pocket and began typing with his thumbs.
“What are you doing?” Cassidy asked.
“I’m sending you an email,” Cristiãn explained as he continued to type.
“What’s in the email?”
“We’re in it,” Cristiãn answered as he finished addressing the email. “I’m forwarding you the file that Razvan sent to all of us.”
Cassidy was taken by surprise by his answer. She knew that file contained the names and addresses of all but two of the vampires. It was the last thing she expected to hear.
“This is your only way out,” Cristiãn began to explain. “Once we’re exposed, the others will have no reason to harm you.”
Cassidy’s surprise intensified. She knew that Cristiãn was sacrificing himself and the other vampires with this act.
“What about your sister?”
Cristiãn took a moment to consider her question and searched for a reply.
“She has lived a long life,” he said despondently.
He paused to stare mournfully at Cassidy.
“I can’t let them sacrifice you to save us—not even for Nadja.”
Cristiãn pressed the button that sent the email on its way to her. All of Cassidy’s anger toward him fell away. She suddenly understood the depth of Cristiãn’s regard for her. She had no response for what he had just said or did. For a long moment, she could do nothing but stare at the vampire who was looking back at her.
“Don’t make the mistake of thinking this is going to immediately fix everything,” Cristiãn said into the silence between them. “We immortals are very good at hiding. This will not solve your vampire problem—not in the short-term.”
After hearing these last remarks, Cassidy awakened from her amazement.
“Why won’t it solve our problem?”
Cristiãn feared explaining more. He worried that his answer would deter her from doing what she had to do.
“This is your only way out, Cassidy,” Cristiãn returned sincerely. “They will come after you.”
“What’s going to happen?” Cassidy vehemently asked. “Why were you all so opposed to Evan and Christine?”
Once again, Cristiãn was hesitant. Cassidy could see that he did not want to answer her question.
“Tell me!” she yelled. “Why will vampires continue to be a problem?”
Cristiãn paused and took a deep breath while considering her. He could see that she was not going to be satisfied until she had an answer to her question.
“Vampires are not the problem,” Cristiãn sternly insisted. “Humans are...”
“Why are we the problem?” Cassidy demanded.
Cristiãn paused just long enough to find the words.
“Immortality is the ultimate commodity. Mortals will give everything they have to acquire it, and not just the peasants—the Kings and Queens as well. If Dumitra and Razvan get their way, vampirism will be for sale to anyone and everyone who can add to their wealth and power.”
“You’re saying there’s going to be more of you?” Cassidy questioned.
“This is nothing new for us. I’ve seen mortals beg to be turned. The only reason why there isn’t a thousand of us scattered about the planet right now is because we agreed to never turn a mortal without the consent of the majority. And since our awakening, that consent has never been given.”
“But Dumitra and Razvan are no longer one of you?” Cassidy stated with an inquiring inflection.
“That’s right,” Cristiãn answered softly.
“And if I expose all of you to the world, what will happen then?” Cassidy asked with an intense stare.
For a few seconds, Cristiãn said nothing as he considered the ramifications of the answer. Shortly, he concluded that he had no recourse but to tell Cassidy where the situation was going.
“They will use every means they have to survive,” Cristiãn answered.
“You mean they will make more vampires?” Cassidy corrected.
“For a price, yes,” Cristiãn confirmed.
Cassidy was shocked by his answer. She hesitated and took a couple of fearful breathes.
“How many more?”
Cristiãn hesitated to reply.
“As many as necessary.”
“And then their—offspring—will make more, and their offspring behind them will do the same.” Cassidy said in a daze almost to herself.
“Yes, but there’s no other way,” Cristiãn insisted. “This is your only way out.”
Cassidy pondered his answer for several seconds before asking her next question.
“And how does this end?” Cassidy asked with a frightened expression.
“It ends with a purge—on a global scale,” Cristiãn replied.
“Global?” Cassidy blurted out in shock.
Cristiãn took a moment to consider why this was so surprising to her.
“Twelve hundred years ago, we were contained by the terrain, the sun and the location of our food supply. All of these made traveling across great distances unappealing to our kind. For us, sunlight and physical exertion are lethal combinations, and we feared being stranded alone in the middle of nowhere. So, we stayed where the food was. But in this time, the food is everywhere, and all it takes is a plane, a train or a car to get there—no exertion required.”
Cassidy was stunned by this scenario. She stared into empty space contemplating his explanation.
“You’re talking about a worldwide infestation.”
To give emphasis to his words, Cristiãn gave Cassidy a fierce look before responding.
“You have to do this, Cassidy. Razvan and Dumitra are going to do it anyway. The only difference with them is that by the time mortals learn of our existence, their offspring will be everywhere.”
After hearing his response, Cassidy froze and stared off into deep thought. Cristiãn said nothing as he watched and waited for her to digest this information. Several seconds later Cassidy awakened from her reflections in dismay.
“What are you going to do?” Cassidy asked.
“I have to go,” Cristiãn softly answered. “I have an obligation to fulfill.”
Cassidy considered his answer before concluding that he was going back to his club and the vampire alliance.
“They’ll kill you!” Cassidy exclaimed.
“Probably,” Cristiãn softly concurred and with a nod. “But it’s not like I don’t have it coming.”
“You can’t do that,” Cassidy pleaded. “You have to come with me. We can protect you.”
Cristiãn started shaking his head before Cassidy reached the end of her response.
“I’m not doing that, Cassidy,” Cristiãn whispered with a slight smile. “I already know my way out.”
At that moment, Cassidy knew that Cristiãn was planning to die. The thought of him throwing away his life suddenly frightened her.
“You have to surrender yourself,” Cassidy rationalized. “We’re going to need your help with—with—all of this.”
“I’m not doing that,” Cristiãn returned dejectedly.
Cristiãn pulled the door handle and began to push the door open.
“I have to go,” Cristiãn softly said to her.
Reflexively, Cassidy reached beneath her jacket and drew the weapon she took from the unconscious Charlie Panko.
“Stop!” Cassidy ordered as she directed the handgun toward Cristiãn. “I’m taking you in.”
Cristiãn noted the gun then pulled the door shut.
“I can’t do this,” Cristiãn whispered as he stared into Cassidy’s eyes.
Immediately after he spoke, Cassidy’s mind began to fade into a stupor. Her clarity of thought was nearly gone. She no longer had the ability to formulate sentences. Within seconds, she lost all her sense of awareness. Her faculties began to return after several minutes. When her awareness was fully restored, Cristiãn was no longer in the car. Cassidy was shocked by this revelation. She had no idea how long she had been in a daze; she knew it had to be longer than a few seconds. She checked her watch and judged by the time that she could not have been incapacitated for more than a few minutes. After lingering over her thoughts for a moment more, she moved out of the front passenger’s seat and into the driver’s.
After getting behind the wheel of the car, Cassidy’s first thought was to call Cristiãn, but she quickly remembered that her cellphone was not on her. She spent the next minute wondering what to do next. Her mind raced through different methods of exposing the vampires, along with the complications and consequences of each. At the end of her analysis, she concluded that there was only one thing to do. She started the car and drove off in a hurry.
Cassidy drove to the 94th precinct. She had two reasons for going there: It was not far from where she was, and she was familiar with the station. The car screeched to moderately hard stop in front of the closest parking space to the station. She then climbed out of the car, raced down the street and hurried through the front entrance of the Precinct.
Cassidy had no trouble negotiating her way into the precinct. She had the benefit of her shield and identification to facilitate her movement through the building. She had history with the precinct: she had been posted there one year ago. Most of the officers knew her on sight and many knew her as an acquaintance. One patrol officer she knew intercepted her in the hall and inquired why she was there; a detective she knew made the same inquiry when she was seated at a vacant desk. She told them both that she was in the vicinity on an investigation and needed access to a computer terminal. That proved to be enough to stem their curiosity.
The moment she acquired a computer and was free from the attention of others, Cassidy retrieved Cristiãn’s email. She quickly opened the attached file and perused through the assortment of pages and pictures as fast as she dared. When she was finished, she accessed the case file for the Greenbelt Nine and retrieved the phone number for The Cavern and immediately called it. She would have preferred to call Cristiãn’s cellphone, but she did not remember his number and it was not listed in the case file. After a dozen rings, she was convinced no one would answer and hung up. She took a moment to contemplate the lack of response to her call before concluding that she had to do what she had to do.
Cassidy immediately went to work assimilating the pages from the email into a case file. She worked at a hurried pace, much more so than she would have normally. Setting up the case file in the system was the quickest part of her task—taking barely more than five minutes. Printing out the more than two dozen pages that she needed for a presentation folder took a little longer. The process was further complicated by manually blacking out all the file numbers on the printed copies with a marker and then creating photocopies of each. She then shredded the printed copies and put the photocopies in her presentation folder. When she was finally done, nearly an hour had passed from start to finish and Cassidy was racing out of the precinct with the presentation folder in her hand.
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.