by Jane Hinchey
"I can afford to keep it. If someone made a decent offer I'd sell, but who knows? Zoning may change one day and I can develop it as I originally planned."
I nodded. Seemed plausible. When you can afford a multi million dollar mansion, holding on to an old derelict warehouse was small change.
"As to the nightclub, I might be able to help you with that."
"Really? How?"
"We have security cameras everywhere. We can go through the footage and see if your victims did visit the club. And who they left with."
He’d beaten me to it, I was just about to ask him about surveillance cameras. Friggin awesome. I smiled my delight at him. He leaned back, watching me.
"One condition," he said.
"What?"
"I want to work the case with you." I started to shake my head, but he added, "If someone is using my club as a hunting ground and trying to set me up for it, I have a right to be involved." His voice had an edge of steel to it.
"That's not my decision to make. Above my pay grade. You'll need to talk to Director Ridgeway. And she's off until tomorrow. Full moon and all."
"Your director is a werewolf?"
"Sure. The SIA has all sorts of supernaturals and paranormals."
"What are you? You're not vampire or werewolf." I saw him raise his nose slightly and sniff my scent.
"No, I'm not either of those things." I agreed. "Let's not get off track. I need to get moving on this case before we have another victim on our hands. Where can I view the footage?" I was prepared to beg. He had what I needed to move forward in catching whatever nut job was killing humans.
"I have an IT lab here. My team and I occasionally freelance…as private investigators."
"Really? I didn’t know that, but okay." I nodded, an IT lab indeed. This could be the big breakthrough I needed.
“Doesn’t pay to advertise the fact. Civilians can often gain much more useful intel than any agency.” Standing, he strode across the room, beckoning me to follow.
He led me through the massive house, down several flights of stairs to what appeared to be an underground bunker. He stopped before a thick steel-plated door and spoke his name into a box on the wall. The door clicked open and I stepped in behind him. Wow. A massive white room greeted us. It was divided into four rooms by glass walls. To my right a room containing banks of computers, servers and electronic equipment. To the left a room with three medical gurneys, trolleys, fridges and cupboards that looked like they housed medical supplies. I moved down the center corridor; everything was pristine and state of the art. A hum buzzed through the air, my best guess was an air filtration system. The second room on the left housed a large island bench with microscopes and other scientific equipment, and finally, the last room held two square cages. We had similar cells at the SIA.
"Wow. Quite the setup," I murmured, impressed.
Nate guided me into the computer lab, the glass door sliding closed behind us silently.
"Can I log into the SIA server from here?"
"Sure." He indicated a monitor along the far wall. I pulled out the chair beneath it and laid my hands across the thin membrane keyboard, keying in the address of the SIA server and my login credentials. I'd just gained access when the door behind us slid open. I glanced over my shoulder at the newcomer.
Another tall one, though his build was leaner than Nate’s. His hair hung in waves to his shoulders, a light brown color that matched the light beard he sported. His hazel eyes met mine.
"Ethan, meet Enforcer Black. We are assisting the SIA with their inquiries surrounding Crimson Mist."
I rose and extended my hand to the other man. "Please, go ahead and call me Raven."
"Raven Black?" Nate looked at me.
"The nuns chose the name Raven and a social worker chose my surname. I suppose they thought they were being funny." I shrugged.
"Pleased to meet you, Raven." Ethan shook my hand then moved over to the main terminal in the center of the room. "So what are we doing?"
"I'm after footage from the club, seeing if we can spot any of my four victims. One we definitely know was at Crimson Mist, so I want to check out who she was with and if anything happened while she was there. The other three, we don't know if they were at Crimson Mist itself, but they were at a club and Crimson Mist might be the clue linking our victims together. I'm just pulling up pictures and dates now." I went back to my own computer and pulled up the victim's ID photos, taking care the vampires didn't get a glimpse of the morgue shots.
"I've been playing with a 3D facial recognition software," Ethan told me, "I'll give it a run first, might save us some time."
I sent him the files and then sat back and watched as his hands flew across his touch screen setup. Touching, grabbing, swiping. Literally manipulating files with his fingers. He loaded up Allena Niles’s image and ran the app. The video played in fast forward, tracking, measuring and discarding faces and images. We'd been at it for half an hour when the video froze and a face outlined in red zeroed in on the screen.
"Got her." Ethan grinned. He moved the video frame by frame as Allena shuffled forward in the lineup outside the club, made it to the front and received the stamp on the back of her hand. The footage was date stamped three days ago. The search resumed, picking up bits of footage from inside the club. At the bar buying a drink. Dancing. She appeared to be there with girlfriends, but they all left together. Everything looked fine. So she wasn't taken from the club. Ethan copied the footage we needed, then loaded up the first victim's image and set the date range I gave him. Hours passed as we trawled through the footage. We'd found the second victim, she'd been at the club as suspected, but again, nothing untoward happened there.
I rubbed my eyes and yawned. I'd been up all night and, glancing at the time on my phone, half the day. If I could get all the footage I needed before the start of my next shift, I could start cross-referencing, identify if the victims interacted with the same person, had the same group of friends. It was a big job, but it was the only lead we had. I propped my elbow on the desk and rested my head against my palm, tired eyes watching the video stream. I could hear Ethan and Nate talking, their voices becoming muted as my eyes closed.
With a jerk, I opened my eyes. My comms unit was buzzing. I reached for my wrist, confused to discover I was lying down. What? Where was I? A scraping noise reached my ears and I froze. Not knowing where I was and what was happening, I pulsed out my power. I heard a muffled oath and quickly sat up, reaching for my pyre-gun, only to find it missing.
"It's okay. You're safe." Nate's voice. I rubbed at my eyes, scanning the room. I was on one of the gurneys in the first aid room. And there was my gun, on the trolley by my side. My eyes met Nate’s as he stood frozen. We were in the bunker. Right, right. Releasing him, I pulled my power back in.
"Sorry," I mumbled, pressing the button on my comms unit. It was a security check from SIA. I'd missed logging in for my shift. I called in, explaining I was in the field and would be in later.
"That was unexpected." Nate approached warily, hands out, indicating he meant no harm.
"I bet. Sorry again. I was disorientated. I don't remember falling asleep." Picking up one of my discarded boots from the floor, he eased my foot into it, slowly drawing the zip up the inside of my calf.
"You ran out of steam a couple of hours ago. Figured you'd be more comfortable in here rather than face down on the desk."
"I didn't drool, did I?"
"No, but you did snore."
I laughed. "Did not. Did I?"
He laughed, pulling on my other boot and lifting me down from the gurney. "Nah. Now tell me, what was that little stunt?"
"Ah yes. My freeze ’em and leave ’em ability." I shrugged. "Just something I can do. Don't know how or why, just is. I know, I know, it's fascinating." I put up my hand to stop him. "But I still have working human parts and I really need to find a bathroom." I could see by the expression on his face that he wanted to explore my power further,
just like everyone else that discovered it. But I wasn't joking about my bladder.
"No bathroom down here. We'll go upstairs. You must be hungry as well." My stomach growled on cue. Before I could stop him, he clasped my hand and led me back upstairs. He left me outside the bathroom and gave me directions to the kitchen. After using the toilet, I splashed water on my face and tidied my hair. Dark shadows marred the skin under my eyes. I looked great. Just great. Three hours sleep was not enough. I left the bathroom and found my way to the kitchen. Nate was waiting, looking sheepish.
"I'm sorry. We don't have much...food...in the house." He was looking at the fridge and my curiosity got the better of me. I opened it. Inside, stacked neatly shelf upon shelf, were bags of blood.
"Okay then." I closed the door. I glanced around the kitchen. Designer. Top of the range.
"I'll order something in. Pizza? Chinese?" He suggested.
"No please, I need to head into work anyway. I'll grab something on the way. I hadn't meant to be here so long. Sorry for the imposition."
"I liked having you here." He sounded surprised. The thing is, I liked being here with him and Ethan as well. They were easy company and Ethan was clearly an IT genius. The footage he'd found was invaluable to the investigation.
"We need to talk."
I turned to look at him. "Talk?"
"The investigation. Clearly, the connection you're looking for is Crimson Mist. Anything to do with my club, I will be involved in."
"I'm not saying no, Nate. It's not up to me. Like I said, you'll have to take it up with the director."
"Who's off being a wolf tonight."
"You're not being species prejudice are you, Nate?"
"Of course not! If you knew me better you'd never suggest that."
"But I don't know you better. And you're pushing me on something I have no control over." I puffed out a frustrated breath. Lord, I was tired and I didn't want to argue with him. "I've got to go." Pulling myself together, I turned, walking away without looking back.
8
Better start talking, Miller. I don't have all day." I leaned my elbows on the steel table, watching the agitated werewolf across from me. His hands were in chains, silver, and cuffed to the table, and around his neck was a thick glowing collar. The collar emitted a frequency directly into the wearer's skin that stopped them from changing. And given that it was now the full moon, Miller needed to change. And soon.
Miller was the wolf we'd picked up a couple of days ago who'd alluded to human blood slaves. No way this drop kick was behind organizing any such thing, but keeping him on ice until full moon gave me leverage on getting more information out of him.
"What ya wanna know?" he snapped. His skin was covered in sweat, his hair damp with it. He badly needed to shift.
"The humans you were hunting in Wolf’s Hill. How did that come about?"
"Just stumbled across them. Campers."
"You're lying." I rose to my feet, getting ready to leave.
"Wait, wait!" he pleaded, desperate. "I'll tell ya."
I sat back down. "Fuck me around again and I will rip your kidney out, fill it with nails and feed it back to you. Understand?"
He nodded. "Ma'am."
"And don't fucking call me ma'am," I snapped. I was tired, hungry and out of patience.
"We bought the humans," he muttered, head bowed.
"Where?"
"An auction."
"When?"
"The same day you caught us."
"Where was this auction held?" I pressed.
"House way out back of Mistlyn."
"What house? Do you have an address? Have you been there before?"
"Can't remember the address. They move them around. Never told the location until the day of the auction."
"Who organizes it?"
"Don't know."
"Who. Organises. It." He had to know, otherwise, how would he purchase his produce?
"I don't know. Honestly. We deal with just one guy, Brooks, who texts us the location. But only if we're planning on going. Brooks has his own group of buyers and we don't see who else is there, just what's on offer to buy."
"How often are these auctions held?"
"Every few weeks."
"And you go to all of them?"
"No. Just when we're planning on some fun."
"Ah yes. Let's talk about your fun. So you bought your humans this week. Why?"
He looked puzzled. "Like I told ya. Fun."
"Why buy them this week? Because of the full moon? You planning to let your wolves eat them?"
He shrugged, which I took as a yes.
"So why did we catch you chasing them? Why not keep them safe and sound until tonight?"
"To give 'em a taste of what's coming, make them nice and desperate. We keep 'em in a cave in the forest and when we're ready for the hunt they're half crazy and fight more. Make better prey."
"You sick fuck." I looked at the sorry excuse for a wolf in front of me. I wanted to terminate his sorry existence, but unfortunately, it was against SIA policy.
"These auctions, they just for werewolves?" I asked.
"Shit no. Anyone can buy, even other humans."
"What? Why would a human want to buy another human?"
"Usually only the filthy rich and s'far as I heard, they buy 'em for sex. Keep 'em locked up and do the weird kinky shit they don't want no one knowing about."
"Vampires as well?"
"Course! They buy 'em for blood slaves, and sex too I guess, though vamps don't need no sex slaves. But you got those ones that refuse bagged blood and only drink from the vein but want it on tap."
Where there was demand, someone would always find a way to supply. Sitting back with a sigh, I rubbed my hands over my face. This was so fucked up.
"I want a picture of this guy, Brooks."
"I don't have no pictures."
"Then you'll work with our graphics guy until we get a digital composite of what Brooks looks like."
"What?"
"A sketch artist. Once we have a sketch of this guy, Brooks, then I'll take that collar off."
I left the interrogation room, stopping to arrange for the Graphics Officer to visit. I'd keep my word and allow Miller's collar to be removed, but he'd be confined to his cell. I badly wanted to terminate the little shit, but he could have more useful information. I'd ask Carter to have a crack at him when he came back.
Back at my desk, I brought up my holovision screen. A message from the Medical Lab was waiting for me.
“Guardian Black - as per Director Ridgeway's policy regarding security clearance for any SIA agents who carry human DNA, you are required to undergo quarterly medical examinations. You have been scheduled to undergo testing at three a.m. Please be on time.”
What the? I punched in the medical unit’s number into my comms. I'd never heard of any such policy and I sure as hell wasn't going to consent to the continual prodding, poking and invasiveness of their testing on a regular basis. I'd been subjected to more than enough of that by the humans.
"Medical."
"This is Enforcer Black. I received communication from you that I'm to report for a medical exam today. Care to explain to me what the hell that is all about?"
"As the memo states, the director has requested it."
"Why is this the first I'm hearing of it?"
"She implemented the new policy last night. We simply follow the directives we're given."
"And who else, besides me, is going to be having these medicals?"
"You are the only agent who is affected."
Just as I thought. "This is bullshit." I fumed. Always being singled out because I was different. I didn't fit into the human world and I didn't fit into the supernatural one either.
"We expect you here at three a.m., Enforcer." He hung up. Urgh. I stormed to the recs room and made myself a coffee. The clock on the wall indicated it had just passed two. With this whole medical shit tossed into my night, there was no way I
'd get back out into the field tonight. Plus I was exhausted; I could barely see straight. After my medical, I was clocking out and catching up on some sleep.
9
Stepping out of the elevator the following evening, I was relieved Carter looked refreshed and relaxed at his desk. I'd slept for ten hours myself by the time I'd gotten home at daybreak. I'd been running on below empty when I'd finally stumbled through my front door. The medical was as horrendous as I'd been expecting. Multiple blood samples, ultrasounds, x-rays, an internal exam, even a spinal tap that left me with a thumping headache and feeling like an overused and under loved pin cushion. I didn't understand why I'd been singled out, but I'd be taking it up with the director.
"You look like you could use some R and R," Carter commented as I sank into my chair. "You're paler than usual."
"Geez, don't start. You've been back, what, five minutes and already you're nagging."
"No seriously, Raven. I'm not kidding. You look like shit. What happened while I was away?"
"I look like shit—thanks for that by the way—because the director has implemented a new policy for unassigned paranormals. We're to undergo medical testing every three months."
"Testing? As in?"
"Nasty, invasive, painful."
"Well, shit."
"Exactly. They took a shit ton of blood yesterday, not to mention spinal fluid, which has left me feeling—and looking—like crap."
"I'm going to talk to the director. That's bullshit."
"Cool it, wolf boy. I can fight my own battles and I'll be speaking with her myself. This doesn't concern you."
"It concerns me if it's about you."
"No. We can't go there, Carter. The nightclub shouldn't have happened. Now can we please just focus on this case?"
I could feel his gaze boring into me, but I refused to look up from my screen. I really didn't have the energy to argue with him, again, today. Heaving a melodramatic sigh, Carter gave in.
"I see you got your hands on Crimson Mist footage," he said, changing the subject.
"I did. They were very helpful." Ethan had given me the footage I needed and I'd uploaded it to our case file on the SIA server.