by L Ann
Leads? There’d been damned few. Suspects? Aside from the usual SOP roust and round up of known local felons whose documented M.O’s included violent assault and sex crimes against minors… zilch. And theories? Everything from satanic rituals to gang bang initiations to, the currently most popular, terrorist conspiracy.
Everything, that is, but the one to which the bulk of the evidence pointed. The one at the front of everyone’s minds. The one no one would admit to, nor wanted to publicly acknowledge.
“It’s been a week now,” Bill Moseley stood in the open office doorway, jacket hooked casually over one broad shoulder. “Seven days since the last killings, and nothing since. Call it a gut hunch… but I think it’s over.”
Jen acknowledged his presence with an ‘if-you-say-so’ twitch of one eyebrow. “Probably. Or at least it seems to be.”
“Why do I get the impression you’re not happy about that? And you should be,” Moseley entered completely, settling his line-backer bulky frame into the chair beside her desk. “I know I sure as hell am. This damn case has almost re-started my ulcer.”
“And as you said, it’s over,” Jen shrugged, toying with the top edges of the file stack.
“Then what is it, Jen? What’s bothering you?”
“The same thing that should be bothering you.” She thumped the top file in heated frustration. “Jesus, Bill! This whole thing’s got a goddamn huge shit stained question mark hanging over it and you’re telling me you’re satisfied leaving it like that?”
“Jen? Come on… Don’t do –“
“Oh don’t ‘come on, Jen’ me!” she cut her partner short, tapping the top file again. She then separated the file from the stack, tossing it within his reach. “Go on. Open it… Check it out. It’s not the first time something like this has happened.
“Some… concerned, anonymous Samaritan stuck it in my mailbox two nights ago,” she went on as Moseley scanned and flipped through the pages. “It’s actually two files. Starting with Teresa Bennion, 1977…”
Moseley held up a hand, prompting her to pause as he continued scanning the file’s pages. She began again when he closed the folder and returned it to her desk.
“There was always something off about this case. A missing piece,” Jen swivelled away from her desk, rose out of the chair and moved into the centre of the office. “Then, as now… Teresa Bennion. She was horribly abused and mutilated – whipped, cigarette burned, punched, bitten, chewed and completely drained of blood. Just like the DeFrancos, the hooker in the Cherry Hill District, the two victims in the underground hotel parking garage and on and on.” She made a rolling gesture with one hand as she spoke. “The only difference between now and the twenty-seven in 1977 is that not all the victims had their kids taken. And there was a witness in that case… A survivor of an attack whose statement rated less than a paragraph and was pretty much blown off by the investigating officers. Do you know what she told them, Bill?”
Moseley nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah… Vampires,” he all but whispered. “Baby vampires,” he said louder as he looked at her and shook his head dismissively. “Come on, Jen. You know how it goes. A victim statement, right after the incident. She was in shock… Her mind played tricks on her.”
“And any other time, I’d believe that, Bill. But look at it… In a strange, unbelievable way, it makes sense.
“The two facts prominent in all the incidents – the children. Officially, they were considered victims… Abducted and/or missing. But evidence at most of the scenes strongly suggested they were both witnesses to the murders, and complicit in their executions. What everyone was thinking, but avoid speaking out loud, was that these children were the perpetrators… being coerced or commanded by a separate, stronger entity. A leader. And I’d be willing to bet a year’s salary that leader was not another kid. Look at the range in their ages – seven to eight years up to pre-adolescence, and in today’s version, a group more than seventy strong. Sure, there’s exceptions to every rule, but I can’t see that many kids of those ages taking orders from anyone less than a parental figure. An adult.”
Moseley gawked at her, features scrunched into a mask of pained scepticism. “Alright, okay,” he finally shrugged. “I’ll go as far as to agree if you’re talking a Charles Manson or Lord of the Flies thing. But some kinda Dracula Vampire General leading a group of kiddie bloodsucking soldiers… Jen, come on! Let’s be real here.”
“Then explain it to me, Bill,” she moved to stand over him, hands on hips. “Explain to me how two cases, almost forty years apart, could be virtually identical to each other. And the kids… Care to explain that? Demonic possession? Influenced by aliens? CIA mind control experiments?”
Leaning back in his chair, more out of reflex due to her challenging posture, Moseley shook his head jerkily. “I can’t… Damn it, I can’t. But that doesn’t mean…”
“And I’ll tell you something else while we’re at it,” Jen interrupted. “There’s a rumour, a story I’ve been hearing ever since I first joined the SPD. You’ve probably heard it, too.
“They say there’s a room somewhere in the department. A basement, filled wall-to-wall with file cabinets and boxes of cases that go all the way back to the 1920s. It’s where they keep all the strange, weird cases… The ones that couldn’t be solved.”
“I’m sure every police department in the country, in the world, probably has one like that,” Moseley offered. “Nothing strange about that.”
“It is if you’re talking cases like this one,” said Jen. “The way I hear it, there are cases like this that pop up at least once or twice a month. Maybe not on the same scope but similar. Involving blood drained victims.
“I always thought the story was B.S. Something they used to haze rookies. But after this one…” she left the sentence unfinished, finally returning to her former spot in the office’s centre.
“You wanted to know what’s bother me, Bill?” She gestured to the files, folders and the display board. “It’s that. That! There are things going on out there, murders being committed by who knows who… or what. And there are people above us who know about it but ignore it. That’s what’s fucking bothering me.”
“And? So?” Moseley prompted after a lengthy and awkward silence. “What’s next? What do you intend to do about it?”
Jen heaved a short laugh. “What do you think? I’ve already typed and filed my report.” She caught his started eyebrow twitch and laughed humourlessly. “Relax. Nothing that’ll get me fired or put in a strait jacket. All this…” she waved a hand to indicate the files and pieces of evidence displayed on the board. “I’ll pack up in a box tomorrow. As far as I’m concerned, this case is over.
“Think I’ll call it an early night,” she added. “Go home, let the kids drive me nuts until dinner, then settle back with a good tear-jerker DVD and a decent cup of coffee.”
~ THE END ~
Glossary
Characters
Arletta Chambeau – Human. Shadowfall’s Chief of Medicine.
Brother Custos – Pureborn. A member of the Cabal
Cameron – Shadowfall’s Chief Mechanic and Head of Transportation
Elsbeth I’Ane Dasmalle – A Pureborn. Wife of Lord Zuron, mother of Taz I’ane
Fallon Wylde – Formerly a 15th Century Pirate. For the past five centuries a mercenary/soldier for hire and member of the House of Sasul.
Gayle Hunter – A Halfblood. Kane’s adopted daughter and General Manager of Shadowfall’s food, beverage and entertainment venues.
Hamish Satori – Lord of the House of Satori and Commander of the Necuno
Hannah Satori – Wife of Hamish
Kane Thoth – The Egyptian. Uber-wealthy entrepreneur and owner of Club Shadowfall. More than 5,000 years old and dark celebrity within the Vampire Nation
Kayla Monroe – Human. Local Seattle television personality and intimate associate of Taz I’Ane
Morganna Satori – Assassin for House Nikaris
Pantera Rydel – A Member of House of Sasul, she is Shadowfall’s Chief of Security
Qetsiyah Anastasia Camlo – Pureborn. Queen of Seattle’s Rroma Czerny Clan and of the House of Camlo. Also known as “Kizzy”
Taz I’Ane – Heir Apparent to the throne of the House of Nikaris and the son of Lord Zuron
Virginia “Jen” Frost – Human. Detective Lieutenant, Seattle Police Department, Special Crimes Unit
William Moseley – Human. Detective Sergeant, Seattle Police Department, Special Crimes Unit
Zuron I’Ane Dasmalle – A Pureborn. Current Lord of the House of Nikaris and the father of Taz I’Ane
Vampire Houses
House of Nikaris
Founded: Date Unknown
Founder: Nikaris the Cimmerian – Scribe, Scholar, Shaman and Master of the Mystic Arts
Oldest and most powerful of the Houses. Little is known about the Cimmerian, but what is documented is that he was the first to organise his followers and progen into first, a cohesive tribe and then a House – even before the Great Retribution. Often called the Grand Architect of the Vampire Nation.
House of Belaur
Founded: Date Unknown
Founder: Queen Belaura – Student and (some believe) consort/wife of Nikaris. Sorceress of the Dark Arts.
An off-shoot of the House Nikaris. Belaurans are fiercely xenophobic, contemptuous of human beings AND other vampires. They practice Black Magic in all it diverse forms and believe that vampires, as the superiors of human, should rule the world public and not hide behind a façade.
House of Paladin the Warrior
Founded: 1809 A.D.
Founder: Guerrier alias Paladino alias Paladé; an alleged minor officer in Napoleon’s army Sired during the Battle of Corunna.
Paladins are martial. Chiefly, though not exclusively sired from the ranks of the military, law enforcement, street gangs, outlaws, etcetera.
House of Sasul
Founded: 1510 A.D. Hungary
Founder: Vlad Sasul, and not Vlad Tepes, as some believe. Called “the Changeling” because of his ability (a curse by some accounts) to tap into his inner animus and become his “spirit beast”. Pure propaganda, of course.
It was the House's current leader some say… Lady Marjean Sălbatica, who whispered in Bram Stoker’s ear while he slept and sparked the dreams which inspired the writing of Dracula. Deliberately misleading, it gave the legendary vampire the abilities which formed the universally accepted Vampire mythos.
House of Machiavel
Founded: Date unknown
Founder: Unknown. But the House was supposedly inspired by the works of Italian philosopher and writer Niccolò di Bernardo dei Machiavelli.
Power brokers. Political corruption; corporate espionage, in both the human and vampire realms.
House of the Abyss
Founded: Date unknown
Founder: Unknown.
Abyssians court mayhem, murder, chaos, and madness and are drawn to them… and their perpetrators like moths to flame.
House of Molochi
Founded: Date unknown
Founder: Malachi.
Molochi, whose name is variation of their founder, are vampires who may have spawned the mythology of Medusa. They are so beautiful that anyone who looks directly at them are instantly enthralled and, in most cases, reduced to raving maniacs.
House of Sybarite
Founded: Italy, the Renaissance period.
Founder: Unknown.
Hedonism. Art. Creativity. Sybarites dance within the arenas of entertainment, fashion, creative expression, and carnal excess.
The Rroma Alliance
Founded: 1800 A.D.
Founder: Unknown.
A loose coalition of Romany families, tribes, and clans spread across the globe, each lead by a King or Queen, or both. Rromas… “Gypsies”… like their human counterparts, excel in the realm of larceny, deceit, and the grifting arts. They are also widely used by several of the larger more organized Houses for various and sundry unconscionable tasks.
House of L'élite
Founded: Date unknown
Founder: Unknown.
Also referred to as “The Elite”. This House consists of vampires from various Houses and clans, but all members share ‘blue blooded’, Pureborn heritage. Most are titled— Prince/Princesses, Duchess/Dukes, Earls, Counts/Countesses, Barons/Baronesses. They are the vampire Jet Set.
House of Maggio
Founded: 1780 A.D. Southern Italy
Founder: Salvatore Maggio.
As much a vampire Mafioso family as a House. They have several sub-houses, run by Maggio-sired “sefu” (or Dons) and is credited with being the spawning ground for several vampire cartels. Most notable the Purple Brotherhood.
About The Authors
L. Ann lives in Derbyshire, UK with her partner, children, and the many imaginary voices in her head.
L. Gene Brown lives in Central Point, Oregon, USA for sanity as well as for the sake of continued literary inspiration.
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