Recombinant

by Shannon Mayer

Just as their trigger fingers started to twitch, I leapt straight up and forward, landing behind them. A full roundhouse kick took down three of the ten. The rest spun with me, guns going off. I dodged most of the bullets, but one caught me in the stomach.

  Everyone froze, and I went to my knees. Holding a hand over the wound, I slowly raised my eyes to the remaining guards. “You didn’t really think a bullet would stop me, did you?”

  Adam’s apples bobbed in chorus, and sweat beaded along their foreheads. I took a breath and flexed my stomach muscles, pushing the bullet out. It popped into my hand, slick with blood. “Who wants a souvenir?” I tossed it into the air and the idiots watched the trajectory.

  I used their distraction to dart toward them. Before the bullet fell to the ground, I had smashed two skulls together and broken three arms and five noses. There was silence except for the groaning of the guards who lay splayed out on the asphalt.

  “You done playing?” Calvin called from the car.

  I walked over the downed men, scooping one of them up as I went. “Yes. But I want a souvenir, too.” I hadn’t eaten in too long and it was making me irritable. Or at least more irritable than usual.

  Stuffing the guard into the back of the car, I watched him try to breathe through his crushed nose. A slow gurgle was all he managed as his face swelled at a rapid rate. He didn’t even register he’d been taken until we were driving down the road.

  “We’re going to have to ditch the car.” Calvin’s eyes caught mine before looking away.

  “I’m not going to make a mess, Cal. I just want to know what he knows.”

  “The quickest way to do that is to feed on him, and making a mess is what you do.” Disgust laced his words.

  I tightened my grip on the guard. “True.” The smell of blood beckoned. My teeth extended as I jerked the guard’s head back, exposing his jugular. It would be a death bite. That was the only way to access a person’s recent memories.

  The guard squirmed and his eyes widened, but I didn’t feel bad. My job was to wipe out what was left of the vampires in this world. When I was done, Calvin would stake me. Another life lost in the process was no big deal in my eyes.

  I tapped the guard’s neck, making the vein bulge more. “This is going to hurt.”

  He screamed as I latched onto his neck. I could have made it pleasurable for him, but I didn’t want to give him any ideas. His blood rushed into my veins, lighting me up like a Christmas tree on crack. Images flickered and danced in front of my eyes, and I struggled to put the pieces together.

  The guard whimpered and cried out as I drained him of the last of his blood.

  “Calvin, pull over.”

  The car jerked to the side and I pushed the guard out, his body landing with a squish, as if all his bones had been extracted and replaced with those gummy worms Calvin loved.

  I slammed the door, but not before a splash of late fall sunlight blistered my cheek. I rubbed at it, smoothing out the burn as it healed.

  Calvin rapped his knuckles on the dashboard as he sped down the road. “What did you see?”

  I settled into my seat and rolled my head back, peeling through the guard’s memories. “They were told to watch for our car. They were supposed to detain you and kill me.”

  “How the hell could they know what we were driving and where we were crossing? There is no way...”

  But there was a way, despite his protest to the contrary. “The humans are developing all sorts of technology. You know that, so do I.” I reached forward and grabbed my cell phone. “They could have traced us.”

  I crushed the phone in my hand, shattering it completely. A tiny, red flashing dot was attached to the middle of the SIM card. I showed it to Calvin. “Someone’s tracking us.”

  “Hellfire.” He grabbed the pieces from me and chucked them out the window. “Who gave you the phone?”

  “Victor.”

  “I knew that asshole would be a problem. His father, now he was a good patron for you. He had just as much money, but he knew to stay the hell out of your business.”

  “Victor wants something from me.” I leaned forward and put my chin on the back of the headrest, breathing in Calvin’s smell. A mixture of leather and Old Spice cologne. His wife had bought him a bottle right before she was killed. He still wore it every day. I swallowed the spurt of jealousy. Not my place, not at all. I was one of the demons. I had no right to anything other than the life in front of me.

  “He wants you to change him, doesn’t he?”

  I nodded. “Fucking twinkling vampire movie has made everyone think being a vampire is romantic. None of them think about what you have to give up to be a bloodsucker. Estupido!”

  Calvin was silent for a moment. “You never chose this.”

  Not going there.

  “We need to change vehicles. Now.” I pointed at a small dealership, “Daddy’s Deals.” Calvin pulled in and turned off the engine. “What do you want this time?”

  “Pick anything that will work.” I slumped into the backseat of the car, throwing my arm across my eyes to get some rest.

  The vampires were waiting for us in a clearing surrounded by tall, flowering jacaranda trees.

  “We hear you are the chosen one.” They circled us. Six of them. Six. Since when did they hunt in packs?

  I shifted my stance. I would go down fighting with honor. “Father, if you get the chance to slip away, go.”

  “I will not leave you now.” His voice was resigned. We both knew what we faced.

  The first vampire hit me from behind, and I rolled with him, slashing his throat with my silver blade. The gurgle of air and blood seemed to echo in the night.

  Everything became a blur. Blood and silver, the screams of the dying. The priest calling out last rites for the two of us as we fought, knowing we would die.

  Neither of us stayed dead, though. I woke to the priest’s high-pitched scream. My hand flew to my neck as I sat up. The wounds were gone, but I knew what that meant. My mind raced. How long would I have until I went mad?

  How long until I lost myself?

  Above me stood a vampire, his light green eyes watching me closely. “Well, well, the beauty awakes.”

  “Who are you?” I whispered as horror flickered through me.

  He crouched, brushing a hand over my head in a gesture that was...kind. “Hush, I am your master. But you may call me Peter.”

  Standing up, he beckoned to me. “Come, leave the priest to his death. You have much to learn.”

  Peter slid into the night as if I would follow, and my body inclined to do as he commanded. I pushed away the desire to do as Peter wished. I would not be ruled by a monster. A demon that had no soul.

  Every move I made away from Peter burned, but I gritted my teeth and forced my body to obey me. I was in charge.

  Not that damn vampire.

  I rose and went to the priest, pulling my hood up to protect me from the morning light. They’d nailed him to a cross and stuck it into the ground. As the sun rose, it crept down the cross, inch by inch, blistering his skin. Though a vampire could stand some light, the younger they were, the weaker their blood, the faster they burned. His eyes, blinded from the sun, still turned my way.

  “Kill me, Cazador. Do your duty until your soul is called to rest.”

  I slipped a silver stake out of its sheath, the handle blistering my skin, and threw it, pinning him to the cross. His body burst into flame, burning bright like a star that had fallen from the sky. Sliding my last stake from the top of my boot, I turned, lifted my head, and scented what vampires were left.

  Peter was there, somewhere in the darkness.

  “This was a mistake you will not live to regret,” I said softly, following their trail into the shadowed forest.

  “We got a car. It ain’t pretty, but it will do.” Calvin knocked on the roof of the Mustang. I slipped up my shrouded cowl and put on my sunglasses. Even though I was mostly covered, the sun could slip through, and it hurt like a son
of a bitch.

  I was in the back of the new car, an older Camaro with a giant eagle on the hood, in three heartbeats. “Classy.”

  Calvin peered through the window as he moved our gear from one vehicle to the other. “Don’t complain. He didn’t ask any questions since I was willing to give up the Mustang for this piece of shit.”

  A few minutes later, Calvin settled into the driver’s seat, and I slumped lower into the back. He shoved the blackout blanket back at me. “Cover up. We’ve got a few hours of sunlight left.”

  I pulled the blanket over my head and tried not to think any more about the memories that haunted me, that ate at my soul. If I had one left.

  A few hours later, the sound of heavy traffic pulled me out from under the blanket. Vehicles flowed around us on one side, and a large green space beckoned to me on the other. Central Park. “We close?”

  Calvin held up the vial of holy water, the silver backing facing me so it would block out my vampire essence. I could hear the water as it boiled and frothed, and knew without seeing it that it would be bleeding from clear, to pink, to blood red. His eyes met mine, a glitter in them. “What do you think?”

  CHAPTER 4

  RACHEL

  After my encounter with Sean, I hailed a taxi to my East Harlem apartment. Call it a hunch, but I wanted to get off the streets as soon as possible.

  I tossed and turned all night, trying to figure out which man to believe, but in the end, there was no question. While I’d tried to keep in touch with Derrick, I had never expected—nor wanted—to see Sean again. I’d listen to what Derrick had to say.

  If he ever showed up.

  He’d told me he would come by my apartment, but so far I hadn’t heard from him. The fact that Sean was actively looking for him had me freaked out.

  I spent the next morning calling a few sources, trying to get information for my story about the prisoner population decline. I felt hopeful when I got in touch with a former prison guard who agreed to meet with me the day after the following afternoon with a piece of evidence.

  “I saw the men get on that bus for the transfer, but my buddy at the work farm they were going to said they never showed up.”

  “And you said you have a copy of the transfer order with the list of inmates?”

  “Yeah.”

  We set up the time and place for our meeting. Later, in early afternoon, I called Tom, my contact in the coroner’s department. He confirmed that last night’s murder victim had been mostly similar to the other victims.

  “There was blood loss,” he said, “but not like the others.”

  “You mean he wasn’t drained like the others.”

  “Yeah. It’s like the job was half done.”

  That fit with my theory that the murderer had been interrupted. But by whom? I chewed on the end of my pen as I looked out the window of my sixth-floor walk-up apartment. “Do the cops think the guy is some kind of psycho?”

  “You can’t use this, Rachel. You can’t use my name.”

  My pulse increased when I heard the hitch in his voice. He knew something. “You know I’ll keep this confidential, Tom. I’m not about to jeopardize what we have. The other news outlets are calling these ‘Vampire Murders’ and suggesting it’s a cult, but I know this is just a single psycho.”

  He was quiet for a moment. “You’re right. They’ve determined it’s the work of one person, probably a man. And the marks on their chests…they look like they’re occult symbols.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “Nope. I’ll let you know if I hear anything else. But listen, Rachel. Be careful. This guy is dangerous.”

  I hung up and looked at the map of New York City pinned to my wall, push pins marking the locations where the bodies had been found. If the markings were really occult symbols, the locations of the bodies could have a deeper meaning. I should have asked Tom if he could sneak me photos of the symbols.

  A knock on the door made me jump, jarring me out of my thoughts. I walked over and peeked out the peephole, relieved to see Derrick.

  But when I opened the door, I tried to hide my shock. His hair stood on end and his coat and pants were stained. Dark circles underscored his eyes. He had a large duffel bag slung over his back. Even in his state of dishevelment, the sight of him pulled at the loose strings of my heart. I’d made a terrible mistake two years ago. Could I shelve my pride enough to admit it to him?

  I was silent long enough to prompt Derrick to ask, “Can I come in?”

  I blinked and stumbled backward, still amazed he was there. “Yeah, of course. Sorry. You look like shit.”

  A sly grin lit up his face as he walked past me. “Still call it like you see it, huh?”

  I clutched my shaking hands, telling myself to get it together. He was here, so that was a start.

  I lead him to the kitchen area of my loft apartment. “I’m an old dog, D. Too late to learn new tricks.”

  He snorted. “Thirty-one is hardly old, Rachel.”

  “Ha! You’re just saying that because you’re two years older.”

  His grin spread.

  I pulled two bottles of water out of the fridge and handed him one. “What are you doing in the States?” It seemed like a safe place to start, although I had a million and one questions begging for attention.

  He took a long drag and lowered the bottle. His gaze drifted to the map on my wall and he moved closer, studying the pins. “This doesn’t seem like your kind of story.”

  I knew what he meant. On the surface, it seemed undeniable that this was a serial murderer story. Even though I didn’t get to pick and choose all my assignments, I rarely took stories about crime. What I liked to do most was ferret out the truth about abuses of power. But I couldn’t deny something about this story had sunk its hooks deep. I followed and stood next to him, watching his face. “You know what’s going on here?”

  His brow wrinkled as he looked down at me. “You’re like a dog with a bone, but you need to let this one go.”

  “But you’re not letting it go.”

  He groaned.

  “Let me cook you dinner,” I said, formulating a plan to get him to spill what he knew. “You haven’t lived until you’ve had my spaghetti.”

  A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. “I’ve had your spaghetti. Closer to the grave seems more likely.”

  I laughed. “I’ve got a new recipe. It involves liberal amounts of red wine.”

  He turned his back on the map and wandered over to my sofa. “In the sauce or in a glass?”

  “Both.”

  “Count me in.” He looked around and his smile fell. “So if you’re inviting me to dinner, you must have forgiven me for what happened.”

  I rested my hands on the back of an overstuffed chair and looked down at the worn seat. “That night still haunts me.”

  “Rachel.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I glanced at him. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you. You were my best friend. I haven’t been the same since you left.”

  Sighing, he crossed the room in a couple of steps and pulled me into a hug. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I had terrible timing, so much so I’m shocked to be standing here in your apartment.”

  “Just because I’m not in love with you doesn’t mean I don’t care about you, Derrick.”

  He dropped his hold on me and stepped back. “It was too damn hard.” He shook his head. “I said some stupid things I wish I could take back.”

  “So did I,” I interrupted. “There’s plenty of blame to go around.”

  He gave me a half-hearted smile. “You were right, though. Instead of being there for you as a friend—which is what you needed—I was too busy gloating over the fact I’d been right about Sean turning into a first-class asshole.”

  I grinned. “You didn’t gloat, but there may have been an I-told-you-so in there.” Then I turned more serious. “But I told you all this in the dozens of voice mails, texts, and emails I sent you. Why di
dn’t you ever call me back? Did you change your number?”

  “My number is the same.” He pointed to the map. “This is why.” He moved closer to it, studying the pins. “This is a dangerous story and there’s no sense in both of us being in danger.”

  “Why don’t you tell me what you know about all this—” I pointed toward the map “—and I’ll decide for myself if it’s too dangerous for me.”

  A lazy smile lit up his face, giving him a boyish look. “Good try. I need a shower. Do you mind if I take one here?”

  I decided to let him change the topic for now. Besides, he was right. “Of course, but you look like you could use a nap to go along with it.”

  He shook his head. “I’ve got a meeting tonight at nine.”

  I glanced at the clock on my stove, then turned back to look at him. “It’s barely two. Take a shower, then a nap. I’ll wake you at seven and we can eat before you go.”

  He looked torn.

  “Come on, Derrick. Stop being stubborn. If this case is as dangerous as you say, you need to be rested so you’ll be on your toes.”

  He grinned. “Okay, but make sure I’m up by six.”

  “You’ll find clean towels in the bathroom, and feel free to crash on my bed.”

  “Thanks.”

  He started down the hall and I called after him, “I’ve missed you, Derrick.”

  “Me, too.” His voice was gruff as he headed to the bathroom. I watched him, wondering what had brought him to New York City, wondering what he was hiding. It looked like we were both working on stories that weren’t our usual gig.

  I finished a puff piece for the online site I did freelance work for. Derrick emerged from my makeshift bedroom, a small area separated by two folding screens, rubbing his eyes as he sat on a barstool at my counter. He looked worse than he had before his nap.

  “How long has it been since you got more than four hours sleep?” I asked, pouring each of us a glass of wine.

  “Too long.”

  I handed him his drink. “How long have you been in New York?”

  “Two weeks.”

  That was exactly when the murders started. Even if he’d heard about the first one immediately after it happened, it would have taken him a couple of days to fly over from the Middle East, presuming that’s where he had been. Which made me question whether he’d followed the murderer himself. Not the crime.