by T. R. Lester
As she took a seat at her desk, her thoughts go to her brother. This is something that has haunted her since his disappearance. The tips she received from some of his friends at the time led her to believe he is dead, but it’s not a certainty.
Their parents died in a car accident when Grace was fourteen years old and her brother was nineteen. He took care of her until she was old enough to go through training and get her job with the department then he disappeared a few months later. The loss of her parents at such a young age was devastating for her. She never really got over it. The drunk driver who caused the accident was also killed, so she never really was able to get closure. Yes, death is a closure of some sort, but she wanted to see the driver suffer as she has over the loss.
As she starts writing the report, she remembers the smell of rotted meat on the victim. The scent was odd, a scent she has never smelled before. almost as if the victim herself was rotting, but she had not been deceased long enough to give off that smell. Making a note to herself, she decides to look into that more.
“Hello Grace.” A male voice says.
Grace looks up to see her co-worker, Lucas Cane, standing in her doorway.
He made her skin crawl each time she saw him. There was just something about him that that was unnerving.
“Hey Lucas. How’s it going?”
“Not bad. I hear we have a new case. Have you seen the crime scene yet?”
“I have. It’s terrible. The poor girl was brutalized. I’ve never seen anything like it. Have you been there yet?”
Lucas nods.
“It is grisly. Have you started the report yet?”
“Yes, although I don’t have much to add in at this point.”
Lucas nods.
“I’m going to get a bite to eat. Would you care to join me?”
Lucas had been Grace’s partner at one time, until she protested to Director Tanner about his creepy looks and stares. He always seemed to be staring at her when she wasn’t looking, or trying to get her to go out with him. There was just something about him that was unsettling to her.
Tanner told her that Lucas had gone through a major traumatic event in his younger life and he needed someone to support him, such as Grace, being that she was the only female agent in the paranormal division and had nurturing instincts. What a load of shit. Of course, no one likes him, he’s creepy, Grace thought to herself.
“Not tonight Lucas. I’m tired. I think I’ll go home, take a shower and turn in early tonight. I still have to get in touch with my contact to see what he found out about the tattoo on the female.”
“Alright. Well, I’m going to eat. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“Sounds good.”
Lucas turns and walks out of her office and into the hall.
Grace gathers her back pack, keys and report folder and heads out of her office, locking the door behind her. At the end of the hall, she can see Lucas staring at her.
“Creepy bastard.” She says under her breath.
Walking up the hall and to the front door, Grace’s hair stands on end. Lucas was still watching her. She hurried along the hall, makes a right turn and gets out of his line of sight. Her nerves settle and she heads for the door. She pushed on the door swinging it open and walked into the night air. It’s the middle of February, but it isn’t cold out. The temperatures have been in the mid-fifties for the whole month.
As she nears her car, she gets that feeling of being watched again. Damn that Lucas. Has he followed her out of the building?
Goose flesh appears on her skin and her feeling of dread increases.
Increasing her pace, she makes it to her car and clicks her key fob to unlock the door. Opening the car door, she expeditiously tosses her belongings in the back seat, quickly gets in and slams her door, pressing the door lock button. Looking around and not seeing a damn thing, she sits for a moment to gather her wits and calls Gideon.
“Hey Grace. How are you?” Gideon asks in a deep male melodic voice.
“I’m good. Did you find out anything on that tattoo?”
“Actually, yes. Although, it isn’t what you first thought it was.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah. Turns out it’s a mark originating from a vampire coven from Tennessee. The mark that was above her breast signifies that she was presumably a mate to a vampire. The fact that she had given birth before being killed says that the vampire who impregnated her was more than likely not her mate.”
“How can you tell?”
“There are two types of vampires. One type is the usual that you’ve heard of over the years, strigoi, or undead. Romanians say they are the troubled souls of the dead rising from the grave that drain the vitality of their victims through blood loss. These vampires have no mate.
When a human is turned by one of these vamps, they lose their soul. Some go mad with bloodlust and are eventually destroyed by their sire.
If a human is impregnated by one of them, it always results in the death of the human. The vampire fetus will start to form and would need to consume human blood in order to live and would begin to feed around the twenty fourth hour of the pregnancy. Before the pregnancy can reach the seventy-two-hour mark, the fetus will try to… break out of the mother.”
“Break out?”
“Tear itself from the mother’s stomach.”
Grace shivers.
“The second kind are those of a seraphic blood line, or angelic blood line. The fallen ones. The Romanians refer to them as cei cu suflete, or roughly translated to, those with souls. It’s said that when the war of heaven was fought, some of those who were cast out were doomed to be vampires were allowed to retain their souls, but would be cursed to live off the blood of humans for all eternity. These vampires tend to be protectors. They are benevolent vampires. They tend to resist the urge to kill and normally have devoted humans who donate their blood to prevent them having to hunt. They were gifted with unique abilities, such as teleportation, telekinesis, telepathy, healing, superhuman strength, speed and senses, and a few others. They are the only ones who were destined to have a mate over the centuries. Since these vampires are of seraphic blood, they are able to produce offspring with human females. The pregnancy will run the normal course of nine months, during which time the baby will fully form and will be born as human babies are. They will function as normal human babies until their fifth year, at which time they will start to develop more rapidly, require blood to survive and discover hidden talents each seraphic one possesses.
So, in order to reproduce and keep the vampire race alive, so to speak, a male must find his mate, claim her, and then her mark will appear above her right breast permanently to show she belongs to that male.”
“But you said a vampire can’t reproduce with a human without it causing death.”
“No, I said strigoi can’t reproduce without death occurring for the female.”
“You’ve lost me.” Grace says.
“A strigoi is soulless. A seraphic one is not. Since the offspring of a seraphic and a human will develop as a normal human baby during the pregnancy, and won’t require blood until year five, there is no danger to the female.”
“Ok. So, how will he know his mate?”
“Each male is born with the mark that will appear on his mate after they are mated, and the marks are specific to each male. When the male comes in contact with his mate, his protective and predatory instincts take over, causing him to be possessive of the female. It may not happen immediately, it depends on the female showing any interest or acceptance to him.
The mark he bears will become more prominent and begin to have a soft glow as his mate becomes more accepting to him. If she never accepts him, or shows no interest in him, her mark will never develop. She would only be able to see hers when she accepted him as her mate.”
“Wow. How do you know all of this?” Grace asks Gideon.
“It’s my job beautiful. It’s what I do.”
�
��So, the victim did give birth before she died. Do you think the baby was a vampire?”
“Oh yeah, no doubt. I believe he kidnapped her, impregnated her, not knowing or caring that she would die, then when the baby killed her, he dumped her body. However, what happened to her true mate is still a mystery, if she ever had one. He would have never left her unless someone destroyed him. So, this other vampire comes along, sees a mated female and decides to try his luck at getting her pregnant, only not realizing or caring that the female would not survive since he was not of the seraphic blood line.”
“Then, where is the baby?”
“I would guess that the vampire disposed of it since it wasn’t with the body of the victim.”
“Bastard.”
“If I find out anything more, I’ll let you know.”
“Thank you, Gideon.”
“You sure you don’t want to come over to my place?”
Grace chuckles.
“Not a chance wolf man.” She tells him.
“Ah hell, that hurt baby.”
“I’m sure it did.”
“Well, the offer stands.”
“I’ll remember that. Talk to you later Gideon.”
“Sure thing.” He replies, and the call ends.
Grace put her phone down and started her car. She took another look around and still saw nothing but has the feeling she is being watched.
Chapter 3
Finally arriving home, Grace exits her car and walks to her mail box. Only junk mail there. She heads to her front door, takes her keys out and unlocks the door. She can’t get the dead girl out of her mind. Especially with what Gideon told her. It seems almost impossible to believe that there may be vampires in the area. It had been years since any vampire had been known to be in the area.
Entering her home, she dropped her pack on the table by her front door. Emptying her pockets into the bowl she has on the table, she thinks about finding a witness. Without a witness, she may never be able to solve this. Maybe not even with a witness.
Walking into the kitchen, she flipped the wall switch that illuminated the whole kitchen and is met by her cat, Shasta.
“Hi pretty girl.”
She gives the cat a rub down her back and elicits a purr loud enough to vibrate the counter top.
She reaches into the fridge, grabs a Corona, pops the cap, grabs her pack and heads into her living room to sit in her comfy recliner.
Turning on the television, she sees the local news has gotten wind of the murder.
“Damn. I was hoping to keep this quiet for a day or so. I should have known better.”
Digging in her pack, she pulls out the folder she put the start of her report in. Taking out her phone, she opens her mail to see the summary Gideon sent her on the information he discussed with her on vampires. She sends it to her printer.
She opens the folder and takes out the crime scene pictures. There are photos of the victim and surrounding area where she was found. There’s also some photos of the parking area and the foot trail she walked down to get to the victim.
Spreading them out on her coffee table, she starts looking over each of them, starting first with the parking area photos.
All the cars in the lot belong to department agents, all except one. A black Ford F-150 truck sits off to the far left of all the other vehicles.
Scanning the rest of the photos, she spots a rear view shot of the truck with the license plate number. Setting those two photos aside, she moves on to the foot trail photos. There’s a succession of those that were taken as the crime scene agent walked the trail. Finally, she gets to the victim photos. The photo that shows the puncture mark on her thigh has been enlarged for easy viewing. The puncture has bruising around it and dried blood. There are no other marks other than the two holes in the skin. Next, she looks at the photo that shows the umbilical cord protruding from the victim’s body. Taking her magnifying glass from her side table, she scans over the photo slowly, looking for anything odd. Then she sees it. Starting at the end of the cord and going about two inches up towards the victim’s body is what appears to be teeth marks.
“What would chew through an umbilical cord? A vampire?”
Looking at the photo again, Grace sees a darkening of the cord above the bite marks. Almost as if the cord was… dying.
“Holy shit.”
She looks at the photo of the design that was carved around her heart and studies it in detail. The design looks sort of like a tribal tattoo, the kind you see some people get across their lower back, with the swirls and circle designs. But right in the center in one of the circle swirls, she can make out the letter V.
“Hmm. I wonder if that is the coven Gideon mentioned.”
Taking the photos of the license plate, umbilical cord, and the tattoo, she sets them aside and calls Lucas Cane, against her better judgement, but he’s familiar with this case.
“Cane here.”
“Hey Lucas, I found some interesting pictures that the technician took of the victim. I was wondering if you may have time to check a license plate for me.”
“Sure. Send it to me and I’ll get on it.”
“Sending it now.”
Grace snapped a picture of the plate and emailed it to Lucas.
“Give me a few minutes.”
“Sure.”
After about ten minutes, Lucas calls back.
“The plate is registered to a woman named Emily Kessler. It’s a Tennessee plate. The address is 70 Bowman Street, Memphis, Tennessee.”
“Do you know if that truck is still in the park?” Grace asks.
“Not sure, but I can go by there and check. I’m out and about.”
“Great. Would you mind?”
“Not at all.”
“Thanks Lucas.”
“Anytime Grace.”
The call ends and Grace puts the folder back into her pack.
Heading upstairs with Shasta on her heels, all she has on her mind is a long hot bath.
She goes into the bathroom, turns on the water and tosses a couple of lavender bath beads in.
Entering the bedroom, she sees Shasta has made herself at home in the middle of the bed.
“What a day.” Grace says to Shasta.
Grace grabs her night clothes, which consists of a pair of brushed jersey lounge pants and a white tee shirt and heads back to her hot bath.
Pinning her braid up on top of her head and removing her clothes, she eases herself down into the hot water waiting for her.
She leans against the back of the tub and just soaks. Trying to wash away all the evil, pain and suffering she witnessed today. Not an easy task to accomplish when the memories are burned into you mind.
The image of that poor girl, beaten and tortured, is something that won’t leave her soon. And she has a niggling feeling that the Emily Kessler the truck belongs to is her victim.
Sure, Grace has had difficult cases before, but not one involving a girl so young and brutally ravaged.
Finally, after soaking for what seemed like hours but could only have been fifteen minutes or so, Grace washes, rinses off and gets out, wrapping a huge fluffy blue towel around her body.
After drying off, she applies her nightly ritual of Victoria’s Secret Lush Palm body lotion all over and puts her night clothes on.
When she gets back to her bedroom, she sees Shasta has moved up to her cat pillow that Grace has placed on the other side of the bed.
Unpinning her braid, she slowly starts to unwind the braid, letting her hair fall down around her back. She takes a seat at her vanity and starts brushing it.
Sighing, Grace looks over at the cat who is staring at her, and smiles.
Suddenly, she feels her skin prickle and the hair stand on her neck.
“Not again damn it.”
She casually looks around while she brushes her hair to see what she can see. Nothing, again.
Gathering her hair, she starts to braid, all the while letting her eyes scan her sur
roundings and peer out the window.
Her cell phone rings and she jumps at the sound.
“Damn Grace, you really are nervous.” She says under her breath.
“Hello.”
“Hi Grace, Lucas here. The truck is still at the park. Doesn’t look like it’s been moved. I’m going to get out and walk around and see what I can find.”
“Maybe you should call someone to come and help you. “You shouldn’t be out there this late alone Lucas.”
“I’ll be fine Grace. Just a quick look around.”
“I can get dressed and be there in a few minutes.”
“No, I’ll be fine. Go to sleep.”
“Call if you need me Lucas.”
“Will do Grace.”
The call ends.
Grace walks over to the bed and climbs in hoping she can sleep after seeing that poor girl today.
Chapter 4
As the female walks to her car, Draven Bratu watches intently from the top of paranormal department. Over the centuries, he has never been as drawn to a human as he is Grace Chandler. There’s something about her. Something he can’t put his finger on. Always watching her from afar, never approaching her.
Born in Brasov, Romania in 1500 A.D., he’s seen many wars and many years go by.
His parents were seraphic ones, so, he was born into the vampire race. He was an only child of Romanian parents who were killed by vampire hunters in 1517.
In the 1700s, he left Romania and moved to the United States, moving from state to state every fifteen years or so to keep up the appearance of being normal since he doesn’t age.
At six feet five inches tall, emerald green eyes, tan skin, blue black hair that touches the top of his shoulders and a muscular toned body, Draven was never short of attention from the fairer sex, although he did try to limit his interactions with them for fear of harming them in some way. Sure, over the years he’s had females in his life, but being immortal makes it hard to pursue a relationship. He’s never found his mate, although he’s looked for her for the last five hundred years. He’s really never had time for a mate, although, it seems as he gets older, the desire to have one grows stronger.