Enduring Service

by Regina Morris

  “Perhaps a mortal holds your heart,” he guessed, looking down at the locket. “The one you wanted turned.”

  Sulie didn’t say a word, but it felt as if her heart had skipped a beat and she wanted to scream.

  He spun the broken locket around and the chain twirled around his finger. “I don’t care if you love someone else, Sulie. This arrangement isn’t about love.” He glanced down at Dixon’s picture. “The picture is old, so he’s probably a white haired, walking with a cane, crippled human by now.”

  “He’s no one,” Sulie huffed. “It’s only an old piece of jewelry that I liked. I didn’t even know the locket opened.”

  Charles held up the front of the locket. “Old jewelry? One that happens to have the initials SML for Suzanne Leigh Metcalf? I don’t think so, baby doll. This man loves you.”

  Sulie shook her head. “I swear to you he doesn’t.”

  “We’ll find out.” He put the jewelry into his pocket. “I’ll find him. He’s probably some old fart who works at the damn hospital. You’ll play nice, marry me, and produce a child, or I’ll kill him.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Julian tended to his daily tasks, the tasks he used to share with his brother Millard. He found it difficult to believe that the vamp was really gone. Dust. Never to be seen or heard from again. And to know that sweet Sulie was the one who had done the deed… .

  Millard, dead. He tried to stop the slight smile from curving up his lips, but it was there nonetheless as he walked through the stench of dead humans who lay on the floor of the restaurant. As always, his job was to clean the humans and to remove the dead ones from the pen. The group had called their feeding cell “the pen” as long as he could remember, and he had cleaned the pen for just as long.

  It was a job he had always shared with Millard.

  Twelve humans remained alive in the pen, but two women lay dead, their necks marked by multiple feedings. It always seemed easier to steal people from the streets and to keep them as cattle instead of hunting each night. Easier perhaps, but more obvious. If one or two people went missing, no one paid much attention. But if his family stayed in one place too long, the numbers added up and soon the police would take notice.

  He picked up the first dead woman. Several wounds marked her neck and had sent streaks of blood down her throat, staining her silk blouse. Her death had been brutal judging by the tear marks of the bites, and Julian knew it had been Trudy who had killed the woman. She always enjoyed picking off the weakest ones and torturing them at the end.

  This particular dead human had been a business woman, taken from a parking garage as she raced to her car with a suitcase. Her phone had been pressed to her ear and Millard had heard one side of her conversation. A personal trip. Back in a week. It had been a perfect opportunity. No one would miss her for days.

  Millard had plucked her from her car like a lion would a gazelle. No mercy. No hope.

  Julian gently cradled the dead woman in his arms, walked outside, and placed her in the trunk of his car. He then went back inside to fetch the second dead woman. She had been a prostitute — one of the filthiest, and therefore, the most unworthy to Millard. Of course, all humans were unworthy to him.

  Placing the second woman in the trunk, Julian thought about Millard. Surely he should be able to conjure up some sort of loss or hurt emotion for his brother’s death.

  But nothing came up.

  The only emotion which Julian felt, if you could call it that, was relief. Actually, there was a second emotion — guilt. He felt bad about feeling happy Millard was dead.

  Julian closed the trunk of the car and returned to the pen. There was one more thing he had to do before disposing of the two bodies. He needed to feed.

  Feeding was never an eenie–meenie–minie–moe thing for him. He always went for whichever human had been fed upon the least. It didn’t matter if the human was male or female, just that the feeding wouldn’t end the human’s life.

  How many times had Millard made fun of him for such an act? Julian had lost count. Millard had enjoyed torturing the humans and had teased Julian of his humanity towards the lesser beings. All these years, Julian was made to feel inferior and weak to his brother. Well, not anymore.

  Julian found a younger man with only one mark on his neck. The man’s soiled clothing and unclean condition told Julian the man was homeless. Again, no one to miss him upon his death. The homeless man sat in the pen and blankly stared off into the distance. He, just like all the humans in the pen, had been compelled to sit quietly and allow the vampires to feed.

  Some vampires, like Millard, were the head of their family line — and therefore could be supplied blood by the Vampire Council. Other vamps had no other means of feeding except to hunt. It sickened Julian that Millard had means, but still preferred the thrill of hunting humans. To Julian, it was only a way to survive — one that he had to endure since he was second in their family line.

  Of course, he was now first in his family line due to Millard’s death. A celebration was called for, not grieving for any loss. He’d have to petition for the right of ascension and it would take time for the paperwork to clear with the Council. But soon enough he would have his new rightful place in his family line and all that came with it.

  Looking down at his hands, Julian saw the thinness of his skin. He reached up and felt the wrinkles which had begun to form around his eyes. It was definitely time to feed again. If he did a good job today, and pleased Trudy, she may even give him some of the delicious cord blood.

  But then he remembered she had called him a screw up for getting his brother killed, so he doubted she’d ever allow him the delicacy. She was more controlling than Millard ever had been, and that was saying a lot. Julian wondered how Trudy would treat him now that Millard was gone. Even though he disliked his brother, he did serve as a buffer between him and Trudy.

  Sighing heavily, he sat on the floor, leaned into the neck of the very accommodating human, and had his fill from the man’s vein. Two bites now marked the man. He could possibly stand two to three more feedings. Given enough time between feedings, he may be able to survive a bit longer. As always, Julian kept track of everyone’s blood loss to limit the deaths in the pen. He also gave them food and water, and took care of all of their other physical needs.

  Just as he was about to return to his car, he thought about Sulie starving in her cell. Whether or not he resided on Trudy’s shit list, he owed Sulie a thank you for what she had done. He then thought of how to repay her for killing Millard.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mason felt trapped at Camp David. He couldn’t leave the home for fear that the trainer coming to meet with the president was a vampire, and as such, would be able to pick up another predator on the premises. As long as he remained behind closed doors, his predatory nature would remain hidden as best as possible. He paced in the private presidential office, his eyes scanning several monitors on the wall.

  He focused his attention on the three monitors that displayed the guard station, which sat at the beginning of the drive leading up to the main house. Two agents usually staffed the position, and today was no different. Everything remained as routine as possible so as to not alert an intruder that anything was amiss. The camera feeds on the monitors showed the two guards who manned the station. They were seasoned guards, but only made aware that an expected visitor was on his way over and to let him pass.

  Liam’s voice came over the com unit and Mason listened to the man as he spoke to his team. He sounded secure and strong as he ordered the team to act natural and to allow the car up to the main house and the trap that awaited inside.

  The team had prepared silver chains to subdue the vampire, as well as stakes and knives to kill him if needed. The humans seemed a bit perplexed by the choice of weapons, but Mason smoothed that out with a careful compelling.

  Mason was ready to jump in and corner the vampire once he had come onto the property, with Liam and his team at the rea
dy with the chains.

  Mason watched as a car turned onto the road leading up to the camp. It was a late model sedan, nothing noteworthy at all. Of course, vampires always tried to blend in and it was the perfect vehicle for doing so.

  The car came to a stop at the guard station and Mason studied the video feed. The man driving got out of the car and spoke with one of the Secret Service agents, while the second agent inspected the car. A lighted mirror was held under the frame of the car, obviously looking for any explosive devices. The interior became the next target, with the agent doing a thorough search — which included inspecting the trunk.

  Nothing. Nothing at all for the two guards to detect. But they were human and didn’t know anything about the existence of vampires.

  Mason flipped a switch on the monitor, activating a heat sensor on the cameras. The image showed three figures: the two guards with warmer vibrant colors and another with a cooler tone. He took a deep breath as his suspicions were confirmed. The trainer gave off no heat signature.

  They only needed to lure the vampire to the main house. Since he was the only vampire available, Mason would have to subdue the visitor. The humans were too weak, but they could help by stringing up the bastard with silver chains.

  Just a little farther, Mason thought as he stared at the camera feed. He had noticed the vamp speaking with the agent, but now the conversation seemed too long. The vampire didn’t even show any identification to the man.

  Mason adjusted the feed and closed in on the guard station. There he saw the agent’s blank stare, the result of a compelling.

  Several more seconds passed and Mason grew worried. The car had already passed inspection; there was nothing left for the vampire to do but get in the car and drive towards their trap. But, just then, the vampire took off running, away from the guard station and away from the house. Mason watched the vampire’s super fast speed as he tore down the road and disappeared from the last posted camera.

  Mason’s fist smashed into the desk, causing the wood to crack and the computer equipment to tumble. The guard had known the president wasn’t in–residence here; all the agents knew. He must have told the vampire during the compelling.

  Over the com unit, he heard Liam’s voice cursing and ordering his men to stand down. A moment later, Liam appeared in the office, his face red with anger.

  “Tell me we got a good image of the vampire’s face!”

  Mason rewound the footage and pulled up a clear image of the vamp. Smiling, he said, “We couldn’t have asked for a better closeup.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  Dixon glanced down at the computer printouts of the four vampires from the hospital parking lot, plus the other picture from Camp David that Mason and Liam supplied. Unfortunately, of the images of the four vamps from the hospital, only the midwife’s picture was clear enough to show her face. The other three images, all men roughly six feet tall, showed no distinguishing features that could help identify them.

  Anger built up inside of Dixon. He took a cleansing deep breath and focused on the fact that, at the very least, Mason was out of danger. A slim chance existed that the vampire posing as a fitness trainer would return to Camp David. Mason planned to stay at the camp posing as the president until the massive repairs to the house were completed. The team had learned their lesson and needed Mason to screen and confirm that only human contractors would be allowed in to do the repairs.

  The president was also out of danger. He would remain at the White House since his mistress had been delivered there instead of the camp. He was secure and would be happy for a while.

  Back at the White House, Raymond and the remaining team members ran facial recognition software and tried to piece together the faces of the four vampires from the several partials which had been caught on the recordings, even though they suspected it would yield nothing. Next they would be combing through vampire databases, and known vampire associates to try to identify all five of them.

  Dixon had worked with vampires for over three decades and they didn’t frighten him. He knew vampires were typically clannish and didn’t welcome random humans into their world. That meant the team had a better chance at questioning their vampire associates with him not around, and he gave them the room to do so. He figured his best chance at helping find the kidnappers was to do some digging on his own in the human arena.

  Dixon sat at his old desk at the White House. The office now belonged to Brandon since he was officially the new director of the Colony, but Dixon still had a key to the door. He noticed the lack of pictures on the desk. When this was his office, the desk had remained bare as well, just as it had for his predecessor. Dixon made a mental note to talk with Brandon about the dangers of having no personal life. He didn’t want to see the kid have a life void of family when he passed the baton onto the director after him.

  Dixon opened the top drawer and pulled out a small silver–plated box. It had no markings to suggest what might be inside and only a few of these boxes existed. The president, Vice president, Speaker of the House and the Director of Homeland Security each had one as well. This box had belonged to Dixon, but it was now Brandon’s.

  He opened the box to reveal a tiny silver dagger and syringe nestled securely inside gray foam. The sharp dagger shined as the blade caught the light coming in through the window. Dixon looked at the blade. Never used, just passed down from one director to another for protection. The Colony team members didn’t know about the contents of the box. The syringe and dagger were to be used if any vampire team member went rogue and had to be put down to protect the president. The team had always been too patriotic for any such event, which is why the box sat for over thirty years in this very drawer. Protocol insisted he carry the two weapons with him daily, but after the first week on the job, Dixon determined there was no reason for such a precaution.

  He lifted the dagger and it sprang freely from the foam. The heft of the weapon felt well balanced, and he strapped the dagger to his ankle. He then studied the other item in the box. Dixon had always referred to it as the syringe of death. Enough tranquilizers filled the syringe to kill over a dozen rhinos. Even though untested, the government guessed it was strong enough to paralyze a vampire. In general, humans were too weak to kill a vampire since a vampire had to die of blood loss. If a human could subdue a vampire with silver chains or paralyze them, they could have a chance of staking one in the heart or severing a head to kill one. If you staked them, they would have to bleed completely out or they could heal and kill you.

  The syringe made Dixon nervous. The serum would temporarily paralyze a vampire, but it would instantly kill a human. He knew he should wear gloves to handle the syringe, but figured he wouldn’t have a pair on out in the field, so he gently reached into the box and freed it from the foam. He checked the syringe and could see the liquid remained — it had not evaporated nor spilled out over the last thirty–some years. He took a deep breath and strapped the syringe to his ankle as well. Thankfully the casing was made of metal and not flimsy glass.

  Dixon closed up shop, signed out of the White House, and drove over to the hospital. He had his cell phone in one pants pocket and a special tracking device in the other. If he was going vampire hunting, he wanted the team to be able to track him.

  As he parked his car in the hospital parking lot, his phone rang. Raymond was calling with another update. Dixon didn’t want to hear that another lead had gone dry, that another interrogation had been a dead end or that there was no hope. He answered the phone anyway.

  “Please let it be good news,” he said.

  “Nothing too specific,” Raymond began. “No cameras are in the delivery rooms at the hospital, but Sterling has been watching the OR recordings from a room that is used for viewing operations.”

  “I didn’t realize operating rooms had cameras.”

  “They normally don’t. This is an educational OR so they record procedures and have a viewing area for surgical interns. We lucked out and a C–
Section was performed in the room last week. We have a video of a doctor extracting cord blood for storage.”

  “Vampire?”

  “The man licked his fingers when he finished collecting the cord blood, so I’d say it’s a good chance.”

  Dixon grimaced. “I agree.”

  “The name tag from the video shows Dr. Townsend Briggs,” Raymond continued. “I’m texting you his picture, although you can’t make out too much of his face. Sterling is already at the hospital. He’s interviewing the families who opted for the cord blood collection. I’ll be at the hospital shortly to check on Dr. Briggs.”

  “I’m already here, Raymond. Come find me when you arrive.”

  *******

  Throughout the years, Dixon had spent a lot of time at the hospital and had become familiar with the faces of the doctors, nurses and interns roaming the halls. He walked to the administrative offices in search of a woman he had met several times before.

  “Ms. Silas,” he called out, as the woman in charge of human resources was about to leave for lunch.

  She turned and waited for him to catch up to her. Judging by the expression on her face, Dixon didn’t think she remembered him. He flashed his badge. “Ma’am, I need to review the hospital employment records.”

  Ms. Silas studied the badge. “What is this in regards to?”

  Dixon pocketed his badge. “It’s for an ongoing investigation. I just need to review a personnel file.” As she glanced down at her watch, he added, “I just need a minute.”

  She unlocked her office door and led him inside. Placing her purse on the desk, she pointed at a row of filing cabinets which lined the walls. Just as she was about to say something, she had an odd expression on her face, and then shook her head.

  “What is the matter?” Dixon asked.

  She smiled. “I had the feeling of deja–vu.” She took a deep breath to shrug off the sensation. “Which file did you need to see?”