by ID Johnson
“I was just thinking… I know you said I could finish high school and college there, but what if I wanted to wait until I had graduated, you know? Got my degree,” Brandon said. “If I decided to go through with it.”
“That makes sense,” Aaron assured him. “I’m sure we would keep you busy, but if getting your degree is important to you, we can make time for it as well. What do you want to study?”
“Psychology,” he replied quickly. “I really want to know what makes people behave the way that they do, make the choices they make.”
“You’d be good at that,” Cadence admitted. “And lord knows we could use a good shrink on the team.”
Brandon chuckled. “Thanks.” After a quiet moment, he continued. “How do you know when it’s a Vampire, though, and not a bad person? I mean, I know what you said about the blood and all of that. But, take the Jogging Path Killer. Are you sure that’s not a Vampire?”
“I’m positive it’s not,” Aaron assured him. “Those crime scenes were bloody, the victims were all the same--all runners--and the necks had slash wounds inconsistent with the Vampire’s calling card of draining the body through puncture wounds and then creating a false slash across the neck.”
“How do you know that, though? Have you seen the crime scene photos?” Brandon asked.
“Of course,” Aaron replied. “We have access to every database you can possibly imagine in law enforcement, government agencies, even the military.”
“Really? That’s incredible. How did you get access to something like that?” Brandon asked in awe.
“It’s complicated,” Aaron shrugged.
“I don’t even have any idea about all that,” Cadence admitted.
“So why do Vampires bother to cover up their crimes? Why not just let the world know of their existence?” he asked apparently in deep contemplation.
Aaron took the exit that led to Pryor, slowing slightly as he did so even though they hadn’t even seen another car for miles. “Letting the world know of their existence would only complicate matters for them,” he began. “They use the element of surprise and disbelief to their advantage. If people thought there was a possibility that what they were looking at was real, Vampires would miss out on valuable seconds when their victims are paralyzed in terror. Also, if people knew they existed, they would attempt to hunt them down and destroy them. The last thing Vampires need is another entity trying to annihilate them from the face of the earth.”
They pulled up next to Brandon’s truck, which they had moved to a shopping center just before they embarked on the hunt. He slowly pushed open the back door and slid out. “If you have any questions, give us a call,” Cadence reminded him as she popped out of the car.
“Do you still have my card?” Aaron asked, coming around the front of the SUV.
“I do,” Brandon assured him. “Thanks again for letting me go tonight.”
Cadence smiled and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him. “Take care! We’ve got Hunters and Guardians in the area keeping you and your mom safe, so no need to worry about anything.” As she let him go, she added, “It was so nice to see you.”
“It was nice to see you, too,” Brandon smiled. He grasped Aaron’s outstretched hand and then pulled him in for a half-hug as well. “I appreciate you trusting me with your secrets.”
“You’re part of our family, man,” Aaron replied. “Our secrets are your secrets. Let us know if and when you’re ready to come aboard. We can definitely use your talents.”
“Will do,” Brandon nodded. He climbed into his truck, pulling his keys out from his pocket and cranking it. It took a few tries, but eventually the motor turned over. He gave them a small wave as he backed out of the spot and disappeared into the night.
Cadence watched until she couldn’t see him anymore before letting out a deep sigh. Aaron’s arms around her assured her that all was well, but she knew she would miss him. And not just because he was Elliott’s son. Brandon was a good guy. They’d be lucky to have him on their team.
Aaron kissed her gently on the temple. “You about ready to head home?” he asked quietly.
“I guess so,” she replied. “You think he’ll do it?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Aaron replied, letting go of her and opening her door.
“Really? You do?” Cadence asked, surprised, and afraid to be too hopeful. She slid into the seat, and he shut her door and went around and got in before he replied.
“Cadence, I think we’ll hear from him sooner rather than later. You can’t unsee what he just saw; he’s got Vampire hunting in his blood. He’ll be back.”
Cadence nodded silently, looking out the window as the city of Pryor began to rush by. After a few moments he added, “Besides, I’m pretty sure Brandon has another reason for joining our team that you are somehow missing.”
Whipping her head around to face him, she asked, “What do you mean?”
Aaron laughed. “You’ll see. Eventually… you’ll see.”
Shaking her head in exhaustion and confusion, Cadence decided to let it go. For now. “Well, whatever it is, it better be a good thing.”
“I hope so, too,” Aaron admitted. “I hope so, too.”
***
Returning to his lair served to be more challenging than Giovani had originally anticipated. It was nearly midnight when they arrived in Cesky Krumlov, which not only meant Vampires had taken to the street to prey on tourists out sightseeing too late, but Vampire Hunters were out as well. Giovani had not been too worried about this; after all, none of the local Hunters should be too familiar with him. They certainly shouldn’t be able to recognize him with dark glasses and a hat on. However, as they rounded the corner a few blocks from the house that sat atop their chambers, he froze, his arm darting out to prevent the rest of his party from continuing as well.
“What is it?” Zabrina asked, leaning in and whispering in his ear. She had seen him react this way several times before, usually when those two blonde Hunters were nearby. He could sense their presence well before they were in view.
Giovani didn’t answer right away. Rather, he tilted his head one direction than the other. After a few seconds of consideration, he said, “Someone we know is near. Someone we’ve been in contact with before.”
Puzzled, Zabrina began to glance around as well. She couldn’t imagine who he could possibly be referring to. Just then, however, a woman stepped out into the street just a block ahead of them. She was short with bouncy dark hair, and even in the dim light, Zabrina could see it had a purple hue to it. Giovani was looking right at her, and his eyes had grown almost black, his fangs instinctively dropping into place. “Do you know her?”
“Yes,” he snarled. “She’s a Guardian. She was there that day in the park, the day Jack got shot in the leg.”
“What should we do?” Zabrina asked, watching the woman as she walked down the sidewalk heading right toward them.
“Let us go this way,” Venetta suggested, pulling them down an alley. “There is a side passage through the fence, and it will lead us to the other end of this row of buildings.”
Though Giovani’s instinct was to stay and fight, he knew he could not defeat her. With another low growl, he allowed Zabrina to pull him into the alleyway and back towards the gate in question.
Eliza had not been working the Czech Republic for too long, and so far there had been no reports of anyone matching Giovani’s description in the area. However, she had received information from Aaron earlier that there was a possibility that he was within driving distance of Vienna, and so she had decided to check out the quaint town of Cesky Krumlov. It was a picturesque village, full of ancient buildings and charm--which made it a great place for Vampires as well. And while she’d certainly come across her fair share of bloodsuckers, she had found no trace of him. She knew that, if she were to locate and destroy Giovani, there was a good chance she could find a way to be reassigned back to the Kansas City LIGHTS team, or at least back to the Unite
d States. Her time in Siberia had not been fun, but it had been enlightening, and she’d spent many hours in solitude regretting her hasty decisions as the San Francisco Area Leader. Tonight, she walked the streets of Cesky Krumlov alone searching for Giovani, seeking absolution.
Despite seeing the familiar face of the Guardian from Iowa, returning to his hovel meant safety for Giovani. It would be almost impossible for any of his enemies to find him here or to penetrate this protective lair. He was far below ground, and a series of tunnels and dead ends would confuse anyone who dare try to follow him here. He had taken a moment to feed off of one of the reserva de sange before collapsing into his chair, Zabrina at his side. While visiting Daunator had provided him with information to consider, he was confused as to precisely what he was to do next. He sat in silence for several moments, going back over the conversation in his head, a look of annoyance on his face.
“Giovani?” Zabrina sighed, “what did he say to you in there? Why don’t you tell me? Whatever it is, you will need my help.”
He looked at her sharply. “Who’s to say I will need anyone’s help?” he replied smartly. He adjusted himself in his seat as she gave him a dejected look. After another moment of contemplation, he said, “Daunator said there is no way any living Vampire could possibly defeat her.”
“He said that?” Zabrina clarified. “Really? He thinks we should give up hope?”
“Not exactly,” Giovani admitted. “He suggested we create someone who could do it.”
“I don’t understand,” she admitted, her long eyelashes fluttering as she attempted to comprehend.
Giovani groaned and scooted around in his seat again, the restlessness beginning to eat at him. “He suggested we find a human so evil that, once turned, he would become capable of destroying her. Someone strong and vicious already; the Resurrection would only intensify these qualities.”
She mulled that response around for a moment before asking, “Did he make any suggestions as to whom?”
“No!” Giovani shouted, banging his hand down on the arm of the chair hard enough to make her jump. “If he had given me any more information, I would have said so, now wouldn’t I?”
Her eyes still wide, Zabrina said, “Well, excuse the hell out of me. You didn’t want to say anything at all first. How the hell was I supposed to know?” He said nothing, and so she continued, “What has gotten into you?”
“I’m frustrated!” He got up from his seat and crossed to a nearby table, clearing it of cups and bowls and other various items with one sweep of his arm. “I’m pissed that even my answers are non-answers. We walked all the way out there, and I have no idea what to do next! He said to turn someone into a monster to defeat her and to capture the one she loves most in order to draw her in. Well, I can’t get Aaron if I can’t get her, and I can’t destroy her without the help of the devil himself so I have no idea what to do next!”
As he pounded his fist on the table, Zabrina asked, “What? Wait a minute. The one she loves most of all, or just one that she loves more than herself?”
“What difference does that make?” he asked turning to face her.
“Well, she may love Aaron most of all, but she loves others as well. There is one for certain that if we were to capture, she would certainly trade places.”
“Other than Aaron?” Giovani asked, a skeptical look on his face.
“Most certainly,” Zabrina replied, a wicked smile spreading across her face.
“Who?” Giovani demanded, returning to her side and grabbing her arms in his.
Zabrina began to laugh, a plan formulating in her head. “Haven’t you ever seen The Hunger Games?”
Chapter Eight
Even with the knowledge of the Jogging Path Killer’s identity, actually finding him had proven more difficult than expected, and after a long night of searching every known location of Steven Gibbon over the last four years since he had moved to Philadelphia, they were no closer to putting their hands on him. Sitting in an unmarked car outside Rocky’s Gym at six o’clock was not Watson’s idea of a calm and relaxing morning.
Taking a sip of her black coffee, she glanced down at her phone to see a text from Dixon letting her know he was on his way to relieve her. She had been awake for almost forty-eight hours at this point. She had led the team into his last known address only to find an abandoned apartment that looked like it had most recently been inhabited by squatters. He had no job, having procured quite a large check from his step-mother’s life insurance, and that seemed to have been enough to support him these past six years. A tip from an acquaintance of his from the building had led them across town to a homeless shelter. The manager knew him but had no idea where he might be. He suggested they check out gyms in the area since Gibbon had been into bodybuilding when he lived there.
After hours of pounding the pavement, going from gym to gym, they met a man who went by the name of Bruno who said he had seen Gibbon at Rocky’s a few weeks prior. He said he didn’t look anything like the guy in the mug shot anymore, though. He’d put on at least fifty pounds of muscle. His disposition had shifted as well; he was no longer the mousy man staring back at them from the photo.
While the sergeant had suggested putting a couple of rookies on surveillance so that Watson could get some sleep, she insisted on doing this herself. The only other person she trusted to sit here and stare at this building was Dixon, and there was still a chance that she wouldn’t go home once he arrived. She wanted this guy--wanted him bad--and she wasn’t going to sleep until she got him.
The gym opened at 7:00. It wasn’t one of those twenty-four hour a day operations. In fact, it looked pretty crappy and rundown from the outside. Just the type of place a serial killer might come to lift amongst the other lowlifes and cockroaches who didn’t demand fancy equipment or swimming pools. Here, he could go in, hit it hard for as long as he wanted, and get out. Watson just hoped he was the kind of guy who liked to work out in the morning and that this was still his number one choice when it came to facilities.
She watched Dixon pull into the parking lot several spots over and eye the building and surrounding area before getting out, surveying again, and making his way to her passenger side. “Morning, Watson,” he said as he slid into her sedan. “How goes it?”
“Slow,” she admitted. He offered her a fresh coffee, and she took it, despite the fact that the one she had was still half full. “Do you think we are far enough from the front door that he won’t be suspicious?” she asked. The parking lot was oddly shaped, and there were other businesses in the strip mall near Rocky’s. Some of them were open already, and there were a few patrons coming in and out of the various shops. Still, the parking lot was not very full, and they were close enough to Rocky’s that they could easily see who came and went once the establishment opened.
Dixon looked around again. “I think so. How long have you been parked here?”
“Not too long. Gym’s not open yet,” Watson replied taking a drink of her new coffee. It was still hot, and it burned her tongue going down, but the pain felt good. It woke her up and reminded her that she was alive. She had a job to do.
“What were you doing before that? You look like you’ve been up all night. Are those the same clothes you had on yesterday?”
Watson didn’t really want to answer. It wasn’t his business. After a moment of contemplation, she offered a one-word answer. “Thinking.”
Dixon’s lips pursed in consideration. He had worked with her long enough not to bother to press the issue. After a moment, he shrugged and returned his attention to the building. “Well, it’ll be opening in a few minutes. But I doubt he’ll show up the second it opens. Why don’t you go on home and get some sleep, and I’ll take over?”
“I’m good,” Watson replied, taking another drink of her coffee.
“Come on, Abby,” Dixon said calmly. “You’ll be no good to anyone if you wear yourself out again.”
It was the last word that caught her attention. S
he glanced in his direction briefly before returning her focus back to the brick building before her. “I’m fine.”
He shook his head slowly, clearly contemplating whether or not to let it go or push on. Finally, he asked quietly, “You know he’s not the guy, right?”
She looked at him again, this time her stare lasting a little longer before her eyes shot away. She said nothing.
“His MO is totally different. I know it’s the same cause of death but….”
“I know,” she said, sharply. “I know he’s not the one that killed my sister, okay?”
“Okay,” Dixon said raising his hands defensively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you. I just want to make sure you’re all right.”
“I’m fine,” Watson replied, though her tone indicated otherwise. “But these women, they are someone’s sisters, someone’s mothers, someone’s daughters. And he’s not going to get away with this.”
“No, he’s not,” Dixon agreed. “We’ll get him, Abby. It may take a few days, maybe a few weeks. But we’ll get him.”
“We’ll get him today,” she assured him, setting her coffee down.
He stared at her in confusion, wondering how she could sound so confident. “How do you know that?”
“Because there he is.”
***
Saturday mornings were usually pancake days at the Findley residence, and while Cadence would have slept past eight if she had been home, Cass was one to get up early and help her dad make a mess in the kitchen. Despite her own exhaustion from being up most of the night, Cadence was up bright and early to give her little sister a call and try to explain what she had seen the night before.
Cadence didn’t use FaceTime because she looked like grim death. Her plan was to talk to her sister briefly and then go back to sleep. She was hopeful that her sibling would comply. The phone only rang once before Cassidy answered. “Cadence?” she asked, her voice much too chipper for the early hour.