by Tina Folsom
“Are you saying that vampires are behind this?”
“No. The fact that many of the children were kidnapped during daytime hours led me to believe that no vampires were involved. I still believe that, now even more so. None of the thugs we’ve encountered so far were vampires.”
“But if there are no vampires involved, why didn’t you send this back to Donnelly to deal with?”
John met her inquisitive gaze. “I was supposed to. But I couldn’t.”
Understanding suddenly lit up her eyes. “That’s what that argument between you and Samson was about. He didn’t want you to help me, did he?”
John sighed. He didn’t want her to get the wrong impression about Samson. “Samson only did what he had to do. We’re short-staffed. We didn’t have the capacity to take on this case.”
“But you took it anyway.”
He took her hand and squeezed it. “Because I couldn’t bear to see you suffer.”
“But how did you convince Samson?”
John let out a slow breath. “I told him I’d quit if he didn’t let me work this case.”
She stopped and turned to him. “You risked your job for me?”
He’d risk much more for her if it came to it. He’d risk his life. For her and for Buffy. But she didn’t need to know that. “It’s just a job.”
“Oh John, I don’t know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just need you to stay strong. We’ll get through this. Will you do that?”
“Yes, John.”
He tugged at her hand. “Now let’s talk to Donnelly.” He pushed the door at the end of the corridor open and entered the reception area.
Donnelly shot up from the seating area, and the woman sitting with him did the same. He waved. “John.”
John walked to him and shook his hand. “Mike, good to see you.”
Donnelly turned to Savannah. “Evening, Ms. Rice.”
“Hello, Detective Donnelly.”
“Grayson got me caught up on everything. I brought a sketch artist to work with the children. This is Emily Bolton.”
They exchanged greetings, then John said, “Ms. Bolton, I’ll have somebody escort you down to the medical facility. I believe the children are still down there being checked out.”
It took only a minute for John to arrange an escort to take the sketch artist to the children, before the three of them went to John’s office. Once the door was closed behind them, Donnelly sighed.
“I have some news for you too,” Donnelly announced.
“I hope it’s good news. We could use it,” John said.
“Well, you tell me. Remember the ransom note you had analyzed? Well, there was indeed a chemical substance on it. It’s actually a compound used in dry cleaning facilities. Which gives us reason to believe that the paper was stored at a dry cleaners.”
“Can we narrow it down any further?”
“Afraid not.”
“There must be hundreds of dry cleaners in the Bay Area,” John mused.
“That’s all I have. It’ll take us weeks to check them all out to see if any of them might have a connection to the trafficking ring.”
“We don’t have time,” Savannah said, her voice shaky. “We need to find Buffy now.”
“I know, Ms. Rice. I understand. But I’ve got nothing other than a hunch on where the paper is from. There were no fingerprints, no DNA, nothing.” He looked at John. “Were you able to trace the phone number used to contact the kidnappers?”
John shook his head. “No. I put Thomas on it. But we got nothing, no location, no IP address.”
“IP address, that’s it!” Savannah suddenly said excitedly. “The hacker.”
“What about the hacker?” John asked.
“Remember how he told you that he traced his boss by the email address he used and told you that each time it came from a different location? He was able to trace the IP addresses from wherever this man sent his email communications via the malware he’d sent in his link.” She snatched a quick breath. “Is the hacker still in one of your cells?”
“Yes. What do you need to know?”
“I need to find out if he kept a record of the IP addresses. And if the malware is still active and still sending data back to him.”
John reached for the phone and dialed a number. The call connected immediately. “Thomas? Can you talk to Otto Watson, the hacker we’ve got locked up downstairs, and ask him whether he kept a record of the IP addresses he tracked his boss’s email address to? Apparently, he tricked his boss into installing malware on his computer that tracks his IP.”
“Clever guy. When do you need it by?”
“Five minutes ago.”
“I’m on it.”
“Oh, and Thomas, when you have those IP addresses, send them to my computer. And can you somehow check whether the malware is still sending back any data we can use to pinpoint him in real time?”
“Sure.”
John hung up and looked at Savannah. “It won’t be long.” He moved behind his desk and sat down, then quickly logged into his computer. He turned up the volume on his notifications, then drummed his fingers on the desk.
Savannah started pacing. Donnelly rounded the desk and leaned against it, looking down at John.
“So, uh, Grayson said, the kidnappers were just, uh, regular guys, right? Any chance their boss is different?” he asked cautiously.
“Mike, you can stop being cryptic. Savannah knows about us. She knows what I am.” He slanted Savannah a look and she met it. “And she’s not afraid of us.” She’d touched his fangs, kissed him, trusted him. He couldn’t ask for more.
Donnelly said, “Oh, well, then we’re on the same page. So, you don’t think the kingpin is a vampire?”
“I can’t be sure, but at this point I see nothing that makes me suspect that he is. The kids didn’t know what time of day it was when he came to take Buffy.”
Just then, the computer pinged, and John looked at the screen. Thomas had sent him a file. He opened it. “The IP addresses. And a note. Thomas thinks the guy might have ditched his computer. Nothing has pinged back from it in the last couple of days.” He looked at Savannah. “What do you need me to do now?”
Savannah was already walking around the desk. “Let me sit. I’ll do it.”
He made way for her and let her take his seat.
He watched her as her fingers flew over the keyboard and her right hand clicked the mouse, copying and pasting items, plotting them on a map, and doing so over and over again. She was confident in what she was doing, and driven. Ten minutes later, she turned her head. “I’ve got all the locations. Detective, we just need to overlay this map with one containing all dry cleaners in the area and see if any match.”
Donnelly nodded. “No problem. Let me do that.” He motioned to the keyboard. “May I?”
Savannah got up and Donnelly took her seat. “I’ll just need to log into our database,” he explained. “Give me a sec.”
John put his hand on Savannah’s shoulder, squeezing it gently, and she smiled at him for the first time since he’d returned from Russia with bad news. Finally, he could see hope blossoming in her eyes again.
“Here we go,” Donnelly said after a few moments and pointed to the screen showing a large map of the city. “Bingo.” He pointed to several of the locations that Savannah had marked. “All these are dry cleaners, or dry cleaning facilities. This is good. I’ll make a few calls, see what the department has on these locations and the owners and their employees. It might take an hour or two. Can I stay here and use your office?”
“Of course,” John said. “We’ll help you with anything you need.”
Donnelly waved him off. “Nothing for you to do right now. Why don’t you take a few moments to relax and let me work on this?”
“I get the feeling you’re throwing me out of my own office,” John said with a raised eyebrow.
“Glad you got the hint. I’ll ping you when I�
��ve got something.”
John nodded. “Come, Savannah.”
“I can’t just do nothing.”
“You’ve done enough,” he assured her.
“But there must be something I can do.”
Donnelly looked up from the computer. “Why don’t you see how the kids are? I’m sure they’d love to see a friendly face.”
Grateful for Donnelly’s suggestion, John took Savannah’s hand. “I think that’s a brilliant idea.”
33
When Savannah and John reached the medical center in the basement, it was empty except for the doctor, whom John introduced as Maya, and one child, who suffered from dehydration and lay in a hospital bed, a drip attached to her arm.
“Where is everybody?” John asked.
“We checked all the kids out; they’re fine. And hungry. They’re all up in the H lounge,” Maya said. “I ordered some food for this little one here.” She smiled at the child in the bed and ran her hand over her head. “Chocolate ice cream and cookies, right?”
The little girl, who was a little shorter than Buffy and probably only nine years old, smiled weakly.
“Why don’t you guys go up to the H lounge and see what’s taking them so long?” Maya suggested.
“Sure thing,” John agreed.
On their way up, Savannah asked, “H lounge, that was the lounge where you brought me, right? What does H stand for?”
“Human,” John said without hesitation. “It’s meant for our human employees and guests. There’s also a V lounge.” He cast her a quick look, as if to check whether he should continue. “Only vampires are allowed there, because we serve blood there.”
“What do you mean by serve? Do you keep humans there to drink from?”
John chuckled unexpectedly. “No. Of course not. There’s a bar with blood on tap. The company purchases it from a blood bank.”
“Does that mean you don’t drink from humans? You don’t bite them?” If that was the case, it would mean they were rather civilized.
“Yes and no.”
When she raised an eyebrow, he continued. “Some of us live entirely on bottled blood, others drink from their human mates, few of us go out to hunt these days. We prefer to have permission to drink from a human. It’s more gratifying.”
“Gratifying?” She wasn’t sure what he meant by that.
He sighed. “A vampire’s bite is very sensual. Many of us like to combine the act of feeding with the act of sex, because it heightens the pleasure.”
“For the vampire?”
“For both partners, the human, too. That’s why we prefer to drink from those we are drawn to sexually and emotionally. It’s a way for us to share ourselves with our human partners.”
“But doesn’t that mean you’re turning them into vampires too, I mean, by biting them?”
“That’s not how it works. Only in death can a human be turned.”
“I guess television got a lot of things wrong then.”
“They also got a lot of things right. But we’re not the bloodthirsty monsters they make us out to be on Buffy the Vampire Slayer. We’re more like Angel than Nosferatu. Sometimes troubled by our wish to hold onto our humanity, but also driven by our need for blood. It’s a delicate balance.”
She contemplated his words. “I can see that. But you seem to be in control of that need.”
They stopped in front of the H lounge, and John gave her a long look. “Savannah, I wish I could say you’re right. But I’m not in control, not when I’m around you. There were many times, when I wanted nothing more than to sink my fangs into your lovely neck and drink from you. And it took every ounce of my strength not to do it. I don’t know how long I can still hold back that need.”
She gasped, and her chest lifted. With parted lips, she stared at him. But it wasn’t fear that paralyzed her. It was something he’d said earlier, that the bite would heighten her pleasure.
“I don’t want you to be afraid of me. I know this is not the time to ask your permission, not with everything you’re going through, and I would never act without your consent, but when this is over… when this is behind us… I will ask for permission.”
She shivered involuntarily.
John opened the door to the lounge for her, clearly not expecting an answer, and ushered her inside. The kids were running around, filling plates with food, marveling at the many choices, and looking happy and relaxed. A large number of adults, mostly women, mingled with them. Each woman seemed to have taken charge of one girl, focusing all her attention on the child, and catering to her every need.
“Who are all these women? Are they vampires?” Savannah whispered to John.
“Some of them are, but some of them are human. Most are the wives and daughters of the vampires who run Scanguards. Samson’s wife is here, Delilah.” He pointed to a beautiful woman with long dark hair and a warm smile who was handing a napkin to a little girl whose mouth was covered with chocolate. “And you met their daughter already, Isabelle. She’s a hybrid.”
“A hybrid? What is that?”
“She’s part human, part vampire.”
“Does that mean her mother is human?”
“Yes.”
Savannah ran her eyes over Delilah. She wore a casual dress with a plunging neckline, revealing her flawless neck. There were no blemishes on her skin. “You said a vampire bites his partner. But I see no marks on her neck.”
“And you won’t, though he likely drinks from her every night.” She felt John’s hand on the small of her back, gently touching her. “When we bite our partners, we seal the puncture wounds with our saliva to heal them instantly. It prevents the skin from scarring.”
Savannah felt heat radiate through her. “Oh.”
“And we don’t always drink from the neck.” She felt him move closer, so she could feel his hot breath at her ear. “There are many inviting spots.” Her nipples pebbled. “Like those.”
Suddenly he stepped away, dropping his lids as if ashamed. “I’m sorry, Savannah. I got carried away. I shouldn’t talk to you like that. It’s not the right time. Not the right place.”
She reached for his hand and squeezed it. “I owe you so much. For everything you’re doing.”
He shook his head. “Please promise me something. If and when you say yes, don’t do it because you think you owe me something. You don’t. I’m doing this as much for me as for you. I lost a child. I know what it feels like. And I don’t want you to go through it. I’m doing this because I couldn’t save my own child. You don’t owe me anything. All you owe me is a truthful answer. Whenever you’re ready for it.”
“You’re an honorable man, John. You’re more than any woman could ever hope for.”
He smiled. “Come, why don’t I introduce you to Delilah?”
As if she’d heard them, Delilah looked in their direction and waved for John and Savannah to join her.
“Delilah, this is Savannah,” John introduced them. “Savannah, this is Delilah, Samson’s wife.”
When Savannah shook Delilah’s hand, John added, “I’ve filled Savannah in on everything. She knows about us.”
Delilah smiled. “I’m glad. I hate hiding things, but sometimes it’s necessary.”
Then John looked past her and said, “I see Samson. Excuse me for a moment.” He marched away to the far end of the lounge, where Samson stood talking to Amaury. They were the only other men in the room, and were keeping to themselves, maybe so as not to frighten the young girls who seemed to feel comfortable in the company of the other women.
In another corner, the sketch artist Detective Donnelly had brought to Scanguards was sitting at a table with two girls, who were talking animatedly and making gestures to describe the man they’d seen.
“I’m sorry to hear that your daughter is still missing,” Delilah said.
Savannah sighed. “I think we have a lead. Detective Donnelly is working on it right now. But the waiting is driving me crazy.”
Delilah
smiled at the little girl who sat next to her on the large sectional. “More ice cream?” she asked.
“May I?” the girl asked excitedly.
When Delilah nodded, the girl jumped up and ran to a cart that seemed to have been brought in specially and looked at the display of different ice cream flavors.
“It’s so nice of you all to do this for the kids,” Savannah said.
“We figured they’d be hungry, and we wanted to take their minds off what they’ve been through. So, when Samson told me that the kids had arrived, I called all the other wives and asked them to come.” She pointed around the room. “The blonde with the pixie haircut is Nina, Amaury’s wife. And you’ve met her boys, the twins, Benjamin and Damian.”
“She’s their mother?” Savannah’s mouth gaped open. “But she can’t be older than twenty-five herself!”
“Actually, she must be forty-eight or forty-nine now. I lose track.”
“That’s impossible. And you don’t look like you could have a son Grayson’s age either.”
“Well, thank you. But I assure you, he’s my son. But we don’t age, you know, Nina, myself, and the other wives.”
Savannah leaned closer and dropped her voice so none of the nearby children could overhear them. “But John said you’re human.”
“I am. But we’re blood-bonded to our vampire husbands. And as long as they’re alive, we remain the age we were when we first bonded.”
“So you’re immortal?”
“Not exactly. We can die.”
“Like John’s wife?”
A sad smile flashed over Delilah’s face. “He told you about that?”
Savannah nodded.
“It was tragic. But, yes, we can die from accidents just like any human, but we remain young and healthy, and our husbands’ blood can heal injuries and illnesses we might contract.”
“Your husband’s blood. Are you saying…” She couldn’t finish the sentence or the thought.