Twice Cursed

by Marianne Morea

  Lily turned toward the far wall and the broken couch pushed against the chipped paint. Her skin grew cold to the point of shivering, and panic bit into her gut. The images in her head turned even uglier, and she cried out, covering her face as she felt each blow, the tearing between her legs and warm blood flowing along the inside of her thighs.

  It was the young girl with the orange lipstick—paid for, beaten, raped.

  Her head whipped around as rage, white hot and deranged poured through her from behind. As if compelled, Lily turned toward the tiny window to the side of the small bar. Shattered glass covered the floor beneath the twisted metal window casing.

  “This is where the perpetrator entered the room.” With each step, Lily’s body shook against the storm of rage that flooded her body. Her words pushed passed clenched teeth as she moved toward the window. “I’m positive. This is it.”

  Ryan stood to one side, his arms still folded across his chest. However, instead of the casual stance he affected before, now he just looked defensive. “Lily, what the hell is going on here? A blind man could see you’re getting a reading, but you haven’t said a thing, despite all your gyrations. You gotta cut me some slack. I’m out of my element here, and I don’t like it one bit.”

  Was he for real? Lily just looked at him.

  He exhaled. “CSI didn’t find anything to support a point of forced entry besides the shattered glass. No fingerprints, no blood—other than from the victims—no fibers, no epithelial tissue, no hair. So what do you see that they didn’t, or couldn’t?”

  Lily didn’t answer. The closer she moved to the window, the more the anger raced through her mind—red, black, and craving vengeance. She fell to her knees in front of the hollowed out square, glass biting into her skin through her jeans. Hands at her temples, her pulse throbbed beneath her palms as her fingernails raked her scalp.

  She was in the perpetrator’s mind. The taste of blood, metallic and slick coated her tongue, and the taste wasn’t as she expected. It was heady and thick, like honey. She ran the tip of her tongue over her own teeth, but the sensation was that of razor sharp fangs.

  Her vision narrowed, and a veil of red descended across her line of sight. She scrambled to her feet and into a crouch, her head jerking from side to side and her nostrils flaring.

  “Lily! What the fuck?” Ryan said, taking a step toward her, but jumped back when she snarled low in her throat like something feral. She was out of time and place, looking through the vampire’s eyes as events unfolded.

  Her head whipped around again, the scent of fear making her mouth water. Through the vampire’s eyes, she saw the boy, Patrick, standing over the girl, his friends laughing as another rode her hard, biting her breast so hard he drew blood. The girl cried out in terror and agony, and the vampire smiled as it coiled to attack.

  The image shifted, and Lily watched as if in a trance. The window shattered, and the vampire landed on its feet in a spray of glass and concrete. Covered in blood, the vampire ripped the boys to shreds, choking on bits of broken bone and cartilage as it drank, the bitter tang of their absolute terror scoring its throat.

  Lily tried to free her mind, but the vampire’s gnarled thoughts wrapped themselves around her perception like mutant vines—its thought processes saturated with one word. Kill.

  Savoring the last of them, the vampire lifted its gaze toward the mirrored wall, its bloodied visage reflected back like a nightmare. A face so white and so thin, the cheekbones looked as if they would rip through the pallid skin, yet stark against the dark red smears streaked across its mouth. Fangs, long and dripping with yellow saliva, were stained with blood and pieces of gore.

  As if shocked, the creature’s hand rose to touch its hair, the long, dirty strands hanging from a white scalp, like a corpse. A vicious screech echoed through Lily’s mind along with the image of a beautiful woman, tall and elegant, with long, lustrous blond hair and pearl white skin…the only thing shared with the creature in the mirror was that she too had fangs.

  The vampire’s mind was a swirl of incoherent thought, but one word escaped through the haze of rage and murder. Why? And for one lucid moment, the vampire’s mind held the creature and the woman superimposed, and Lily knew. The two were one and the same, and the question now begged, not only why, but how?

  ***

  “If you don’t tell me what the fuck is going on, I’m calling it…game over, got it? I’m not here to scrape you off the ceiling, or the floor for that matter,” Ryan shouted, his arms hooked under her armpits as he dragged her to standing. “What gives? And I want it straight. No more dancing around and telling me you’re not sure.”

  He dragged his hand across his forehead, his face furious. This was not what he’d expected when he said he’d take this on.

  “You have two minutes, so start talking,” he said, folding his arms across his chest again. This time it was neither casual nor defensive, the move was pure self-preservation.

  “Ryan…I…”

  “No. If I wanted tap dancing, I’d get assigned to the Broadway beat. I want answers. Now.”

  Lily took a deep breath, rummaging through her pockets. “Okay, Ryan. But I’m telling you right now, you won’t believe what I have to tell you.”

  After what he just witnessed, he didn’t doubt it. She was still fishing through her pockets, her face beautiful, but drawn. She probably needed a cigarette. After this, even he wanted one, and he didn’t smoke.

  Whatever Lily smelled, he smelled it too, but you didn’t need a degree in psychology to know that she not only smelled it, but saw whatever it was that had caused this. He took a breath and exhaled. “Come on. Let’s get out of here and go somewhere we can talk.”

  She picked up her baggie full of puke, and the two walked out onto the street. She dumped it in a trashcan near the corner where Ryan was double-parked. Wiping her hands on her slightly bloodstained knees, she stood on the sidewalk waiting for him to finish with the uniformed patrol.

  “Where to?” she asked.

  “It’s almost four p.m. and neither of us has eaten. Let’s grab a sandwich. I know a good bagel place not too far from here. We can talk while we eat.”

  Lily shook her head. “I appreciate the offer, but after this, food is the last thing on my mind.”

  “Okay, then we can head back toward One Police Plaza. Your car is there, right? We can talk upstairs.”

  Lily frowned. “No offense, but with what I have to say, being anywhere near your office is not exactly a bright idea. Listen, it’s late, and I’m drained. Why don’t you drive me home and we can talk at my place? I’ll have a friend pick up my car.”

  He didn’t answer. His eyes were riveted as Lily rolled her shoulders, her full breasts pushing forward through the front opening of her coat. The move was harmless, especially after what she’d just been through, but it left his groin thickening and he forced himself to look away.

  “Shall we?” she asked, her hand on the passenger car door.

  Martinez nodded. “Sounds good.” He cleared his throat and slid into the driver’s seat, covering the telltale bulge in his pants with his jacket. “Where to?” he asked.

  “Jane Street. Westside.”

  He put the car in gear and pulled out onto the street. Neither one said a word. It was like they were both lost in thought, only he would bet her thoughts occupied the mystery surrounding the crime scene. His were occupied with her. Period.

  She smelled unbelievable, even despite her puking her guts up. Every move—from the way she pushed her hair back from her face, the tilt of her head, the sway of her hips as she walked around the crime scene, even when she snarled at him, all he wanted to do was throw her on the ground and fuck her.

  Keep your head in the game, stupid…

  Problem was, she was in the game with him, and that made it even more intoxicating. She was a bitch and a fighter, and yet he had seen her face cloud over with compassion more than once today. As hard as she was, she was still a soft
touch. Soft. He groaned inwardly at the thought of how she would feel beneath him, what her mouth would taste like, the softness of her skin and the sharp edges of her nails across his back.

  Ryan reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. At a red light, he scrolled through and pressed Shaw’s number. It went straight to voicemail. “Sergeant, it’s Martinez. I’ve just left the scene with Ms. Saburi. I’m not really sure what Ms. Saburi found, if anything yet, but I’ll be at headquarters later to fill you in, if I can at that point.” He pressed end, and put the phone down in the front cup holder.

  “I wish you had told me you were going to call him,” Lily said with a frown.

  “Why? He’s my superior. I need to check in with him, or did you forget this is a police investigation?” Ryan ran a hand though his hair, feeling himself scowl.

  “I already KNOW this is a police gig, detective. That’s the third time today you’ve felt it necessary to remind me of it, and it’s seriously getting on my nerves, so quit it! You are not the only professional here. I merely wanted the opportunity to tell you what I saw before I have to tell everyone else. I already warned you.”

  “Warned me? About what, huh? What is it exactly that you think I can’t handle?”

  Lily didn’t answer. She stared out the window, her arms folded in front of her chest.

  “Now you clam up? Jesus, woman, a homicide investigation is no place for head games. If you’ve uncovered pertinent information, I need to know.”

  “Pertinent information? Listen good, because if you or anyone down at police plaza think you stand a chance at solving this after what I saw, you’re nuts. This goes way beyond any nightmare you could ever dream up. It’s going to take a collective effort, and I’m going to need to call in reinforcements of my own.”

  He looked at her, his face incredulous. “Reinforcements? You’re joking, right? Do you know what Phillips had to go through to get the commissioner to allow YOU on the case? What? You have some kind of ESP army at your fingertips?”

  Lily just looked at him, her lips pressed together. “You know, at some point during all this, you are going to thank me. And I’m going to take extreme pleasure in saying I told you so.”

  “Yeah, right. Let’s just hear what you have to say, first. Okay?”

  “Whatever you say, Detective.”

  Chapter Five

  ***

  “Pull over anywhere you can find a spot. I’m in the red brick building over there,” Lily said, pointing across the street.

  Her car wasn’t back, so Jack was still out playing tourist. He didn’t sound too happy when she had said she wouldn’t be home until after five p.m., but he did offer to pick up a pizza, so he couldn’t be that pissed at her. Besides, she was working, so too bad.

  Ryan hadn’t wiped the scowl off his face since they had argued. Crosstown traffic didn’t help the situation either, doubling the time it took to reach her apartment. He was annoyed, and Lily had to stifle the urge to sneak a peek into his thoughts as to why.

  She’d caught him looking at her cleavage a few times, and wondered if it was just him being a typical guy, or if it had something to do with her Were blood and the proximity of the full moon. Ryan was human, but that didn’t mean a thing. Hadn’t the word lunatic derived from the supposed effect the full moon had on human behavior? On the other hand, maybe he was just like any other red-blooded American male when it came to big boobs.

  Regardless, they were here now, and she no longer had a choice. It was curtain time.

  “I’m on the top floor,” she said, unlocking the vestibule door. “It’s a walk-up. Sorry.”

  He shrugged. “No problem. I’m not exactly a donut shop cop.”

  His eyes may have wandered south to her cleavage, but his long, muscular legs and hard six-pack hadn’t escaped her notice when he steadied her, earlier. What had Jack said? Fine full moon fun? Yeah, right.

  Ryan followed behind as they climbed the stairs. Creaking floorboards and Spanish music playing softly in the background were the only sounds cutting the awkward silence.

  Lily glanced back over her shoulder. “You said you were hungry. I’ve got fresh cold cuts and rolls from the deli across the street.”

  “I’m not really hungry anymore, thanks,” he said, his voice clipped.

  Lily had to bite her tongue. If he was this irascible now, how the hell was he going to hear what she had to tell him?

  They got to the top level, and Lily unlocked the door. “Come on in, I’ll just be a second,” she said, and went ahead to snap on a few lights. She took off her coat and hung it on a hook by the front door, doing the same with his. Standing in the hallway, she shoved her hands in her pockets, rocking back slightly on her heels. “So, you said you weren’t hungry anymore, is that true, or are you just trying to be polite despite yourself?”

  He shook his head. “Whatever. I just want to get down to it.”

  Lily regarded him for a moment. He was clearly uncomfortable, and his body language screamed, “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Okay…I’ll make some coffee, and we can get to it.”

  Ryan sat at the table, while Lily went about filling the coffee pot and setting it to brew. The minute it started to drip, she grabbed two mugs from the decorative hooks above the sink and set them on the counter, along with some milk and sugar. From the drawer to the right of the stove, she took two teaspoons and laid them on a couple of paper napkins. She pushed the drawer closed with her hip, and turned, leaning back against the Formica, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

  Ryan hadn’t budged or said a word the entire time, but now he sat back and sniffed. “So, what’s so bad that you’re still procrastinating? If I didn’t know you to be a top profiler, I would think you were hedging to keep your job.”

  Lily unfolded her arms, resting her hands on either side of her. Her fingers curled around the right angles of the countertop. “I’m not hedging. I just don’t know how to tell you what I need to tell you. What I saw—what I know.”

  He leaned further back in his chair, his elbows on the armrests and his fingers clasped together in front of him. “Like Nike says, ‘Just do it’.”

  “Vampire.”

  “Huh?” His brows knit together, clearly not quite processing what she’d just said.

  “The perp. It’s a vampire, and no, I don’t mean a sanguinarian or some freak with dental implants or filed teeth. A real life, honest to God, vampire.”

  Ryan leaned forward and exhaled. “Okay, I get that I’ve been acting like a prick. You made your point. Ha, ha. Now why don’t you tell me what you really found?”

  Lily just looked at him.

  Realization dawned, and the detective’s eyes widened, his skepticism screaming, Yeah right, and the deed to the Brooklyn Bridge is in your pocket, too. He pushed himself to standing, and took a step forward, his mouth open and his expression unconvinced. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  Lily still just looked at him.

  “No. No way. How the hell am I supposed to go back to Shaw and report that a bloodsucking fiend, straight out of a Hollywood horror flick, is responsible for all the latest death and destruction? A vampire? Come on, Lily…you yourself said there were variables that could skew what you ‘see’. I think maybe you think a vampire is responsible for this, but I think you’ve seen the Twilight Saga one too many times.”

  Lily stiffened, tightening her grip on the edge of the counter. “This is no romance novel, Ryan. And there wasn’t one thing remotely Young Adult about what I saw. It was more like Bondage meets Triple X, but you can either choose to believe me or not—I saw what I saw—it’s your call.

  “But I warn you now, if you don’t believe me, and don’t help me do what needs to be done, then the bloodbaths will continue, and not just in out of the way dive bars. This creature is crazed. Something is wrong with it. I’ll have to track it, in order to stop it and prevent any more bloodshed, but for all we know, it could have already cr
eated more of its kind.”

  Ryan threw his hands in the air. “More? You really are a nutcase, aren’t you? And what’s worse is you take me for a fool as well, thinking I’ll buy this load of crap because of what I told you about my sixth sense. What I want to know, is how you got so far in Special Services without anyone realizing you’re batshit. Profiler, my ass!”

  Lily pushed herself away from the counter and with a single step was nose to nose with Ryan. “Listen to me you sarcastic sack of shit, if I wanted to, I could do a tap dance all over your mind, dig up any sordid little secrets I want and then use them against you. I could even mentally bitchslap your ass if I wanted, but I won’t, because I know how hard this is to believe. Hell, I didn’t believe it myself, at first.

  “Supernatural beings exist, Ryan. Period. They live in a subculture that operates under the human radar, and they do a damn good job of policing themselves, usually. Something is wrong, here. I don’t know too much about vampire culture, but I know they do their level best to share this world with us. Those who choose to live on the fringe of that philosophy are exterminated, either by their own kind, or by people like me.”

  Lily took a step back, watching as Martinez tried to process all she’d said, his eyes narrowing in disbelief.

  He took a breath, rubbing his mouth with his hand. “People like you…you mean psychics?”

  “No. People like me, as in vigilante. I’m a hunter, Ryan. I hunt rogue supes…supernatural beings that decide to play outside the rules.”

  His hands went to his hips, pushing his suit jacket back exposing his sidearm. Lily’s eyes flicked from his face to his holster and froze. He was carrying a Guncrafter 50GI semi-automatic, the ballistics of which was the equivalent of carrying a small canon on your hip—not the kind of weapon you normally see on a cop. With bullets three times the size of a standard police issue 9mm Glock. It made her wonder.