by JE Gurley
“Plenty of room. Come on in.”
I moved over to make more room for her. She snuggled against my body, her head coming just to my chest. She looked up at me mischievously and smiled. Then she began to kiss my chest, slowly moving lower until she was kneeling in front of me. She engulfed my manhood with her soft, full lips as I leaned back against the cold tile moaning in ecstasy. A knock at the door barely registered.
“Room service,” a voice shouted from outside the bathroom door.
“Leave it on the table,” I half moaned, half yelled at him, answering for Joria, who was too busy to answer. Food was no longer on my mind. A few minutes later, when I could no longer hold out against her ministrations, I exploded, my knees buckling as I fell back against the shower wall. I was spent, exhausted, incapable of further movement.
Joria stood and looked at me. “After breakfast, we can settle down to a more leisurely session of lovemaking.”
Suddenly, I wasn’t as tired as I thought. It was amazing how the prospect of hot sex could rejuvenate a man. I reached out and grabbed a towel.
“Let’s eat fast,” I suggested only half in jest.
****
I left Joria just before noon and returned to my apartment for a second shower, a shave and a change of clothes. Our lovemaking session had revitalized me. It had been a long time since I had been involved with a woman, since I had wanted to be involved with one. Joria was beginning to work her way under my skin. It was a good feeling. I actually smiled as I returned to the station for my meeting with Captain Bledsoe. I was late but I didn’t give a damn.
My good mood was short lived however. Captain beckoned to me from his office as I walked in the door. He was not alone. Talmund Driscoll, the Mayor’s chief of staff, a prick of the first order, stared at me through the office blinds. Driscoll’s constant sneer and tiny moustache reminded me of a Pekinese. I almost expected him to lift his leg and piss on the desk to mark his territory.
“Detective Hardin,” he said as I walked in, his voice just the right balance of warmth coloring his condescension to keep me from slapping the smirk off his face. “We were just discussing you.”
His high-pitched voice grated on my nerves but he was as smooth as oil, a born politico. I smiled at him. “I knew my ears were burning for some reason,” I replied.
“It seems you have made a habit of playing outside the rules.”
“Yeah, an old habit. I always colored outside the lines in Kindergarten.”
The captain shot me an irritated warning look, which I promptly ignored. I didn’t tolerate idiots and I was in no mood to kiss ass.
“The Mayor is concerned about this so-called vampire of yours. Word is beginning to spread. It is having dire consequences on our tourist trade.”
“Good,” I snapped. “We need fewer people around for my ‘so-called vampire’ to eat. I suggest we evacuate the whole damn city.”
He looked at me aghast.
The captain spoke up. “He was kidding, of course.” His eyes shot daggers at me.
“Of course,” I said reluctantly.
“I was just telling the captain that your, ah, escapades are fueling the news. We don’t need this. I suggested you be removed from the case; then I learned you had been removed but continued to work on your own.”
I tried to keep my contempt for this piece of crap under control but didn’t do a good job. “Look, I lost my partner, a friend and two uniformed officers to this figment of my imagination, not to mention its five other victims, almost six. The creature wants to kill me and it won’t leave me alone just because you don’t like the publicity. You and the Mayor can sit with your thumbs up your ass all day long but this creature is going to rip the heart out of this city.” I looked at Captain Bledsoe. “Now there are two of them.”
His face paled, either at my going off on Driscoll or the idea of two creatures. “Two?” he moaned.
I nodded. “I killed two juveniles last night, but one is still out there somewhere.”
Driscoll brushed off my revelation as an annoyance. “We have a competent SWAT team. They can handle the creatures quietly and efficiently. Your cowboy antics are causing more problems than they are solving. I hear you involved a Brazilian national in some mismanaged capture scheme. That is entirely unacceptable. If the State Department got wind of this, there would be hell to pay. From now on, you are out of the loop.”
Before I could protest, he turned to the captain.
“Your career is on the line here as well, Captain Bledsoe. Keep this maniac off the streets. I don’t care if you have to lock him up. Do you understand me?”
The captain wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, swallowed and nodded. “I understand.”
Driscoll swept out of the room as if he owned it. I was sorely tempted to pull my weapon and shoot him in the ass just for the sheer pleasure. Instead, I said, “The Mayor has a nineteen-year old daughter, doesn’t he?”
Driscoll turned and stared at me. “So?”
“Tell him to keep her away from balconies or they’ll be zipping her up in a cadaver bag.”
He sneered and spun on his heels so fast I thought he might trip over his own feet.
Captain Bledsoe turned to me. “Jesus, Hardin! You’ve just used up the last of your nine lives. That stunt in the parking garage was the last straw. You’re off the case. This time I mean it. If you persist in sticking your nose in, I’ll see to it that you spend some time behind bars for interfering with a case. Damn it, Hardin! Why can’t you just take some time off and let someone else handle this?”
I made a fist and tapped it against my thigh to control my temper as I spoke. “I watched Lew and Melody die. I found all five bodies. I can’t get those images out of my head. How can I sit around while more bodies pile up? Half the force doesn’t even believe in this creature and the other half think they can kill it with a night stick. If you take me off the case, we’re going to lose more men and more young women.”
“I’ll risk it,” he snapped. “I need this job. I just bought a new house. I’d like to retire one day before I’m old and gray and not be a greeter at local Wal Mart. You heard that prick Driscoll. There’s an election coming up soon. If the Mayor loses, he won’t go away quietly. You and I will go down with him. He’ll see to that.”
I sat down. I could see I had lost the argument. “At least keep me in the loop.”
He nodded slowly. “I’ll keep you apprised of the situation, but you’re off the case, you and your Brazilian girlfriend. Now, get out of here for the rest of the day. Tomorrow you start helping Matthews with his drug case.”
I sighed. It could have been worse. Matthews was a good cop. Bledsoe could have sent me down to Vice, the hell hole of the department. “Do you have anyone tailing me, a black SUV?”
“No one, but I wouldn’t put it past the Mayor.”
I left with my tail between my legs for the captain’s benefit, but I didn’t leave beaten. If it cost me my shield, I was going to kill that damn creature and its double-damned offspring.
I decided to return to Joria’s. I was disturbed when she didn’t answer my persistent knock. I inquired at the desk and they informed me they did not see her leave. Even though it was daylight, I grew concerned for her safety. Using my badge, I cajoled the desk clerk into opening the door to her room with his electronic passkey. Her room was empty. Her clothes were neatly folded in drawers and hanging in the closet. Her notes were stacked on the table beside the remnants of our breakfast.
“You sure she didn’t step out?” I asked the desk clerk.
“No one saw her and she didn’t call a taxi,” he swore. There was nothing of interest within walking distance of the hotel except a convention center and a few law firms. The door leading to her balcony stood open. I braced myself for what I feared to find and walked outside. I exhaled my pent up breath with relief when I saw no blood or signs of an attack. Then I noticed the fresh scratches on the concrete railing. My head reeled. No b
lood, I repeated to myself like a mantra of hope. The creature had not killed her outright but I didn’t like the conclusion I was drawing. The Chupacabra had taken Joria, not as food, but as bait to lure me. I had killed two of its precious offspring. Before, it had been merely toying with me like a cat playing with a mouse. Now, it wanted revenge.
Revenge. That was an emotion I could understand, my link with this foul creature. We were two adversaries taking stock of our opposition. It had sensed my weak spot and made the first move. I knew the creature would not have returned to the sanctuary. Too many cop cars would be there by now searching the basement. It would return later, though, after the din had died away. Of this, I was certain. Then I would have to make my move.
I wanted to do something immediately but there were just too many places in the city where the creature could have taken Joria. A search would be useless. So would a report of her disappearance to the authorities. I had to hope and pray the creature kept her alive and unharmed until I could free her.
Outside, I saw the black SUV parked in its usual spot. Thinking they might know something about her disappearance, I walked briskly toward them to confront them. One of them spotted me and pointed. The SUV pulled out, but not before I managed to kick the passenger door hard enough to dent it. It felt like I had broken a toe, but I felt better for it. As they sped away, I shot them the bird.
I still had the Pfeifer .60 I had commandeered from Smitty and had ammunition left. After having seen it in action, I felt certain it was capable of doing the job if I got the right opportunity. I was sure the captain would carry out on his threat if he even thought I was still on the case. I had to elude my fellow officers while waiting for the opportunity to finish the job I had started. First, I had to ditch the black and white. It was too obvious and could be traced with its Lo-Jack system. I drove it to a carwash, paid for a full wax job and walked away carrying the Pfeifer in its case. A few blocks away, I hailed a taxi and had the driver drop me off downtown a few blocks from a twenty-four hour cinema. I noticed the irony of the trilogy on the marquee – Dracula, Black Sunday, and Nosferatu, chosen, I assumed because of the gory headlines of late. Perhaps I could pick up a few pointers from the professionals.
I made myself comfortable in the balcony among a few love-frenzied groping teenage couples and tried to get some sleep. The constant screaming on screen and moaning from the surrounding seats kept waking me up. I gave up and got a cup of what might have been coffee from a vending machine in the hall. It tasted more like week-old tea, but it had caffeine, which I needed badly. I sat through two movies before hunger drove me to find an out-of-the-way place to eat. Comfortably seated in a small diner two blocks from the cinema, I ate a hearty, if greasy, meal, possibly my last supper.
I checked my watch. It was mid-afternoon, a long time until dark. I had hours to kill. I walked the twelve blocks to my apartment, paying little attention to the people I passed or to the storefront displays or even the mood of the people. My thoughts were jumbled and confused, filled with doubts and what ifs. As a detective, I prided myself on collecting facts and building a true picture of events. It amazed me how quickly I had accepted the idea of a vampire, only to have that concept whisked away and replaced by the equally preposterous idea of a centuries old intelligent creature that drank the blood of young women. Had not others witnessed such a creature, I would have blamed it on exhaustion and hallucination.
So far, I had been reacting as if the creature was merely another felon, albeit one of enormous strength and cunning, a man. I knew I must now slip the chains of logical thought, forgo my police training and let go of my lifelong concepts. As a child, our mothers seek to comfort our fears with whispered assurances that no bogeymen live under the bed, no hobgoblins lurk in the closet, no monsters are hiding in the shadows. But there are creatures in the shadows, creatures that have stalked man for its entire history safely ensconced in the blanket of man’s own reluctance to face the radically different. Better to label them myths, give them their own histories, their own legends, and confuse the truth with the lies. Better to live in blissful ignorance than face reality.
I had to put myself in this creature’s mind if I was to defeat it. As alien as it was, it still bore some kin to man, had similar foibles. It hated. It sought revenge. I could relate to such emotions, channel them to my advantage. Rather than react, I must act, boldly and decisively. I intended to free Joria and kill the creature, but if freeing her was impossible, I must strike hard and fast with no regards to either of our lives. The creature and its remaining offspring must die. My life or Joria’s was not worth the cost of failure. The life of the city was at stake.
12
Trey Faber glanced briefly at the contents of the manila folder his assistant had handed him, removed his turtle shell glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose where he could feel the onset of a migraine headache. He had foregone sleep for two days, living in his suit and grabbing a stale sandwich and tasteless ersatz coffee from the vending machines in the break room. He knew he looked like death warmed over but no one around the office was crass enough or foolish enough to remind him. He could not complain. Most of his staff had been working the same grueling hours as he had, but then they did not have the President of the United States and the Joint Chiefs of Staff breathing down their necks. He felt much older than his forty-two years and looked it. Even in the polished, glass-like smoothness of his mahogany desktop, he could not miss the prominent black circles under his hard blue eyes contrasting with the pale pallor of his narrow, tired face. He looked away in disdain.
Faber, head of a special branch of Homeland Security known as Section One, closed his eyes a moment in quiet contemplation; then spoke to his secretary who always seemed to appear like magic whenever he had some task for her. “Tell Hays and Nelson to double up their surveillance of Hardin. He seems to have an affinity for finding these creatures. We might as well use him.” He scanned a line in the report. “Add a team to follow Dr. Alvarez. Her mysterious comings and goings worry me.”
His secretary, Helen Shapiro nodded curtly. He watched Helen walk away, her hips swaying provocatively, and tried to remember the last time he had been on a date. It seemed as if some lunatic or terrorist always managed to threaten the country whenever he had a weekend off. Section One usually got the weird ones, but none had ever been as weird as this one.
Chupacabras vampiris – the techs in the lab had already decided on a classification for the creature. Until two years ago, Chupacabra had been a myth with a thin file in a drawer beside the likes of the Jersey Devil and Sasquatch. Then, a routine check on a series of missing girls in Baltimore had turned up a Brazilian native, a cryptobiologist of all things, with a red dot on her temporary visa. He had lost a man under mysterious circumstances while investigating the murders and had decided to tail the good doctor. Now she was here, at his city’s doorstep.
Faber had seen the bodies of the two juveniles in the lab. Horrid creatures, they reminded him of gargoyles but the specialists had all agreed that the creatures drank blood like a vampire. Even more surprising was the fact that, although they were dead (Hardin had done a good job on them) and beyond salvage, all of their organs were not. Their hearts and a few of what appeared to be endocrine glands were busy repairing themselves at an alarming rate. Some of the creature’s stem cell cultures developed from the tissue had successfully repaired nerve damage in rats. The creatures’ ability to rejuvenate their own tissue had some people in Washington very excited. Faber was leery. He had read the files on the dead girls over the last fifteen years, over thirty of them. One creature had done that. Hardin had killed two young and claimed at least one more survived.
He smiled as he thought of Detective Thackery Hardin. The man had style. He had made Hays and Nelson at the hotel and kicked in the passenger door. And he seemed to be a man who got things done. Normally, Faber admired that particular trait, but in this case, it was detrimental to the Agency. Section One and Hardin were wor
king at cross-purposes. Hardin was on a one-man campaign to eliminate the creatures and Section One needed a live specimen.
Helen entered his office with a worried expression on her face.
“What is it?”
“Hardin and the Alvarez woman have both disappeared.”
Faber rose from his chair, leaned over his desk and looked Helen in the eye. He could not hide his annoyance. “Together?”
She shook her head.
“What did Hays say?”
“He reported that Hardin showed up at the hotel, stayed a few minutes and left without her. Hays made an inquiry and the concierge informed him that Hardin had demanded entry to Alvarez’s room but she was gone. He swears no one saw her leave.”
Faber clenched his fist. “Damn Hays! If he botched this … Have Owens follow Hardin as well. We can’t lose them both. And get those security tapes from the hotel. All of them.”
Things were falling apart. First, Hardin slips his leash from Bledsoe, and then Dr. Alvarez disappears. Now, Hardin is on the run. Faber tried to calm himself, think clearly. One thing was certain. Hardin would go after the remaining creatures. Faber wasn’t as certain about Dr. Alvarez. Her involvement seemed to be more than simply scholarly. He still wasn’t satisfied with the mystery surrounding her father’s death or the agent in Baltimore. There were still a few unanswered questions. The incident in Baltimore had planted seeds of doubt in his mind about Dr. Alvarez’s motives and intentions regarding the creatures. The agent had been following the doctor when he had disappeared.
Faber suspected Hardin would return to the monastery. He had encountered the creatures there twice. It seemed to be the creature’s lair. When they had recovered the two juvenile bodies, they had made a thorough search of the basement and had confirmed the presence of a third egg, but had not found the adult or the third juvenile. If they wanted an intact specimen, they would have to beat Hardin to it. Faber picked up his phone.