by John Conroe
Roma nodded and turned to me. “What about you, Gordon? Anything to add?”
I normally hang back a bit, but decided what the hell.
“Sir, I tracked six individuals entering the park from the Girl's Gate. Tire tracks and deep footprints look like they came out of a van or other similar vehicle. The six traveled straight west across the main part of the field, till two broke off, one north and one south, each attacking an individual, both of whom were women. One of the women was killed.” I waved at the same blanket covered corpse that Fran had interviewed. “Four of the attackers concentrated on what appears to be a woman and child. Almost immediately, one attacker died of a broken neck. The woman's tracks disappear and a large dog next takes out two of the attackers. The fourth attacker runs away to the northeast. The boy and the dog headed northwest into the woods, with one of them bleeding, most likely the dog. I tracked them to a big rock arch with a stream and trail running under it. They appeared to have held up in a little crevice, then left. That's all I could come up with , Sir.” I didn't add the fact that the dog turned into a naked woman. All six of them were just staring at me.
“You a tracker, Chris?” Roma asked.
“Yes sir, since I was a kid. Worked with Search and Rescue in the Adirondacks back home,” I answered.
“Can you take us to the arch?” he asked.
I did one better and walked them through the tracks right back up to the crevice in the arch, which was vacant. I showed them the few remaining blood spots, as the rain had washed away most. Chet the technical guy, swabbed a sample, which was probably not a good thing, but there was nothing I could do about it. I spied a granola bar wrapper in the little stream that one of the team calls the Loch. The wrapper was ignored, as was the other litter floating down the waterway. The arch was apparently called Huddlestone.
Chapter 10
After walking back to the vehicles, the team broke apart, everyone headed out on separate tasks. Roma sent me back to my home precinct, but told me to meet him at the 68 in the morning. After that, Sommers dropped me at the nearest subway entrance and I headed home. I boarded a southbound line, ignoring the other passengers’ sidelong glances at my muddy uniform. A five- person street crew took up one end of the subway car, their music loud but bearable. One of them stared at me, which I ignored. Finally, I locked eyes with him, expecting a confrontation with the well muscled young street dancer. Instead he grinned and snapped his fingers. “I know you. You the dude on the news. Took down that crazy Hancer in the Park.”
“It made the news?” I asked.
“Yeah man. Here let me show ya.” He held up his cell phone and his buddies crowded around as we watched the news clip he’d downloaded.
“Damn man, you fast for a white dude,” one the crew commented.
“Thanks.” I fumbled my own cell out, thinking I should text Tanya before she saw it. Too late. My cell vibrated with an incoming text.
T: Where are u?
C: Manhattan subway- headed home.
T: Why?
C: long story. Interviewed with a special squad and ended up on a call with them.
T: Is that why you were on the news?
C: yeah. Strange day. Met a WW.
T: What?
C: what we talked about last night. Lions and tigers and bears, Oh my.
T: WHAT? Are you hurt? Bit?
C: no no. I’m fine. I helped WW and young WW.
T: Lydia asks u to describe.
C: Early 30’s, reddish brown hair, tall. Kid about 8 or 9, dark brown hair.
T: When will you get home?
C: 30 minutes?
T: see u there.
Twenty minutes later I got off the subway and headed up to the street where my car was. I had happened to park near a corner diner and as the food smells hit, my stomach protested my lack of attention to it. There wasn’t much to eat at my apartment, so I went in and found a booth. The place had a well-used feel to it and I was risking heart disease just smelling the food. A beefy middle aged guy was at the counter eating his way through something that looked like meatloaf and he eyed my muddy uniform as I made my way to the back of the restaurant. The waitress was young and punky, with multicolored hair and heavy kohl eyeliner. Her bored eyes perked up slightly as she perused my dirt encrusted self, her mouth chewing a wad of gum. “Been mud wrestling?” she said with a smirk.
“Yeah, pretty much. How’s the meatloaf?” I asked.
“A lot like my feet, worn and tired. ‘Cept my feet smell better. Coffee?”
I nodded and started to peruse the menu she handed me. The short dark cook yelled something at her and she waved him off while still studying me. I looked from him to her and she gave me a snarky little smile, like she was enjoying irritating everyone. Obviously she was not leaving without my order and I couldn’t decide between a club sandwich and a burger, so I asked for both. She just raised both eyebrows, wrote it down and left with a snap of her gum and a swish of her hips.
I thought about heading to the men’s room and attempting to clean up my uniform. Looking down at myself, I decided it wasn’t worth the effort, so I just sat and drank my coffee. The booths each had one of those mini juke boxes mounted on the wall above the table. None of them looked like they had worked in years.
A group of teens came in and grabbed a booth. Two girls and a guy. Just normal kids. Four sips of coffee later and two cops came in. They eyed me for a moment, nodded and headed to the counter.
The waitress brought me the club sandwich.
“The burger will be a few minutes more. Figured you could start in on this one. Wouldn't want you to starve to death waiting.”
“Thanks, I am pretty hungry.”
“No shit, Sherlock. The way your clothes hang on you, it looks like you haven't seen the inside of a donut shop in weeks.” She smiled and sauntered off to wait on the teens. A twenty- something couple came in, dressed casual, laughing at something. They took the booth next to mine and when I looked up I found the woman staring at me. The teen girls had been staring too and I almost regreted not heading right home to clean up, except the sandwich and fries tasted too damn good to care. Screw 'em if they've never seen a muddy cop before.
The punky waitress brought me the cheeseburger.
“Here ya go, Hero.”
I squinted at her. “Huh?'
She pointed to the old television mounted in the ceiling corner behind the counter. The screen was filled with some tan guy with gleaming white teeth, running through the evening news.
“You were just on. And here I thought you were just a dirty cop.”
She winked and moved to wait on the couple. The woman was staring at me again, so I put my head down and started on the burger while finishing the fries from the club sandwich. Man, I was hungry all the time now.
I got a funny little, hunchy kind of feeling about five seconds before the door opened. When the room went quiet and I finally looked up, I wasn't at all surprised to see her standing there. Everyone in the room was staring at her and I couldn't blame them. She was more than stare worthy. Wearing a fitted black North Face soft shell jacket and painted on jeans, she looked like the cause of a twenty car traffic accident.
Her electric blue eyes locked on mine as soon as I looked up. She immediately headed my way, moving with that inhuman grace, and the realization hit me that I had never witnessed her out in public before. If you've ever seen a beautiful woman enter a room and turn every head, then you'll understand a little, a very little about her effect on the diner's inhabitants. Deer in headlights – stunned – dazzled. But whereas most beautiful women would have been acutely aware and enjoying the attention, she was indifferent. Very much aware of everything around her, but not interested in anything in that diner – except me. The moment I realized that, the enormity of my situation struck me. I got dizzy for a moment, a maelstrom of emotions overwhelming me. That I, who had always been forced to be alone, should now have a girlfriend because of the Helbourne, was al
most too ironic to stand. Not just any girl. I shook myself and smiled at Tatiana, who was already at the booth and looking concerned for my sanity. “Hi, I got too hungry. I'm sorry I kept you waiting. My healthy diet has gone out the window,” I said as I stood up to greet her.
She looked at my empty plate and almost consumed burger, then nodded. “Your metabolism has been increased way beyond normal. You’re going to need several times more calories than you ever did before. My fault.”
We both sat down and the activity resumed in the diner, like a DVD player taken off pause, although everyone in the place was still watching Tatiana.
“Why is it your fault?” I asked quietly.
Her grin was sly. “You’re eating for two, so to speak.”
I laughed and she laughed too, a soft throaty laugh that I could feel in my chest.
“Well that's fine, 'cause I really like to eat,” I said.
“What a coincidence, so do I,” she said with a smile that sent my pulse racing.
The punky waitress appeared, although she appeared to be somewhat intimidated.
“Can I get you anything?” She asked Tatiana.
“A glass of water and a big piece of chocolate cake, if you have any.”
The waitress turned away, but I could hear her say under her breath , “Figures, and she probably won't gain an ounce.”
I glanced at Tatiana. “Cake?”
“It’s for you. You need more calories and you like chocolate cake, you told me so.”
Chapter 11
My Xterra fascinated Tatiana, not that it’s anything special. She rifled through all the CDs, looked through the glove compartment and center console, and even crawled into the back seat to see what the ride was like from back there, all the while asking questions. Is it good in the snow? Do I drive it off road? Do I like being high off the road?
We were at my apartment in no time and she danced ahead of me as I trudged into the elevator. Lydia was pacing around my tiny place, talking on her cell, the locks on my door apparently not vampire proof. She was wearing a dark blue dress over black tights and looked like a college kid as she waved hello to us, while continuing her conversation. I headed to the shower immediately, after dropping my gun belt and vest at the closet. After toweling off, I pulled on a pair of jeans and a halfway clean tee from the bathroom floor and joined the girls, carrying the laundry basket of muddy cop uniform.
Tatiana motioned to Lydia, who was just finishing another call.
“Chris, take off your shirt. I want Lydia to see.”
“Hey now, this ain’t no strip club!” I joked.
They rolled their eyes in unison.
I pulled my tee off and Lydia’s eyes widened. “Damn, Northern! We gotta feed you more.”
I must have looked puzzled, because she asked where I had a mirror and I pointed to the closet door, which had a full length one attached inside.
She opened the closet door wide enough so I could see myself and I realized what they were talking about. I looked different. I’m five ten, usually one hundred and ninety pounds. Despite my Scottish heritage, I tan easily. Only now my tan had turned sorta dusky. My cheekbones were really pronounced and my stupid eyes even more freakishly violet than before, highlighted by my dark skin and brown hair. My torso didn’t have a scrape of fat under the skin. I don’t look at myself in mirrors except to make sure my uniform is straight. I don’t like mirrors because they always show me my odd eyes, the same eyes that caused me so much trouble during my school years. But the image now would have made a bodybuilder jealous, because I was ripped. I never carry much bodyfat, but I had to be less than two percent now, which was probably dangerous and that was point the girls were trying to convey. “Wow, I look like even more of a freak.”
“No, Northern, freak is not what we were thinking.”
Lydia was tapping her bottom lip in thought. “Most humans react to vampire blood with a speeded up metabolism, but this seems extreme. I think we should take you to the doctor.”
“Doctor? You’re kidding, right? What doctor would understand vampire stuff?” I asked
“A vampire doctor. He’s got about ten medical degrees, so he knows his stuff. Better than a human doctor would. He’s been Tanya’s doctor all her life.”
Lydia’s car was a BMW Five series, silver with lots of power and she drove it with skill. We raced through the Brooklyn streets and I should have been nervous about her driving, but Tatiana, who had decided to sit in back, distracted me. She was busy studying me and I got nervous.
Finally I had enough.
“What?”
She smiled. “I like watching you.”
“Well, I like looking at you too, but you’ve got that look again.”
“What look is that?” she asked.
“It’s a cross between a Cheshire Cat grin and a kid with a new toy.”
Lydia snorted from up front. “That describes it to a tee, Northern.”
Tatiana frowned. “You’re not a toy. But you are mine. Right?” she asked, seeking reassurance.
“Yes I am yours, at least till you come to your senses.”
Lydia sighed up front and a warm hand gripped my chin, turning my head to meet a pair of sparking blue eyes. Annoyed eyes.
“I have senses you don’t even know about and all of them agree. You are mine, Christian Gordon. You always will be.” The hard glint softened and she kissed me, then shook my chin as she let go. “And I’ll stare at you if I want. I like to stare at you.” She huffed like any girl might. I decided to stare back, getting trapped in her cerulean gaze.
Dr. Singh had been a doctor long before he was Turned. His unassuming house in lower Brooklyn also held his office, which was in the refinished basement and had its own entrance. Refined and possessed of the trademark vampire grace, the doctor greeted Lydia and Tatiana warmly, while his assistant led me to the exam room, which looked white and institutional like every other exam room I had ever been in. The biggest difference was the lack of pharmaceutical company posters and trade name drug marketing paraphernalia. Instead, the walls had charts showing the moon phases and sunrise and sunset tables and something called a Druidic Calendar.
Dr. Singh's assistant made me nervous. Tall, maybe five seven, with brown hair and Eurasian features, she was professional and businesslike as she took my vitals. No small talk and very little direct eye contact, which was unusual based on all the vampires I had met so far. But despite her direct no nonsense manner, I kept catching her taking little sniffs near me and casting furtive sidelong glances at me. She drew blood, which had me on edge, as she spent an inordinate amount of time settling the vials in their little carrier tray and I swear she was sniffing their caps. I was greatly relieved when she handed me the obligatory paper gown and told me to strip to down to my underwear. Then she fussed around cleaning up for a long time before finally leaving. I skipped the gown, figuring my boxer briefs would be modest enough for a vampire doctor.
In a radical departure from official physician code, the good doctor came right in with hardly any delay. Unlike his creepy assistant, Dr. Singh was personable and had a soothing bedside manner. He proceeded to give me a thorough exam, including eyesight and hearing, asking me health questions all the while. We started with early childhood illnesses and worked our way finally to recent events. Tatiana and Lydia had told him I had been the recipient of Tatiana's blood.
“Mr. Gordon, it may seem like a waste of time to go back over your history, as I'm sure you feel that your current condition is the result of imbibing Tatiana's rather potent blood, but I like to be thorough,” he said., “It is very common for a human who is both fed on and receives blood from his or her vampire, to have an increased metabolic rate and experience heightened senses and greater vitality. These changes occur gradually over time and are beneficial to the donor. It may be an evolved trait of the virus that causes vampirism, helping its host by keeping a healthy donor alive longer. But the degree and speed of your responses are...well..
staggering. I'll have to double check, but I'm fairly certain that our records don't reflect any similar case, ever.”
“Could it be that Tatiana's blood would do this to anyone?” I asked.
He shook his head.
“I've been studying Tatiana's blood since she was born. I delivered her, you know. And I'm the only one, other than you, to have handled her blood. Tatiana's is very similar to the blood of the Elder vampires, the council that rule us. These individuals are all over a thousand years old, while Tatiana is your age. Your exact age in fact. Hmmm.” He paused in thought for a moment, then continued. “Potent blood like that would convey much greater benefits than younger vampires, but nothing like what you are exhibiting. Your hearing is beyond human normal at both the low and high ranges, your eyesight is twenty/five, your reflexes are just about on par with a newly Turned vampire. And your metabolic rate is about four times higher than that of an average human male your age. I'm hoping that slows down a bit, as it usually does with normal donor cases. Currently, you haven't begun to cannibalize your muscle tissue, but that point can't be far off and you absolutely must keep some fat tissue for healthy nerve function. You're just at about two percent, based on the near-infrared measurement that my assistant took.”
“Was that the thing she aimed at my bicep?” I asked.
“Yes. But we really need to stop you from losing any more. I want you to stop working out. Your fitness levels will continue to improve without effort, and that is one way to slow your fat loss. I also want you to eat as much high fat, high calorie food as you can, like these.” He handed me a high calorie protein bar and waited for me to nod my acknowledgement of his instructions then changed subjects. “Mr. Gordon, can I assume that the ladies have conveyed to you the need to keep our world secret from the general human population?”
I nodded.
“Then you must be careful to not display your new differences to your fellow humans, although I'm not sure you are still human at all.” That statement alarmed me.