by John Conroe
Roma recovered after a moment, a frown flickering across his face.
“Agent Duclair, I didn't expect to see you again quite so soon.” His voice was cold.
“Oh you know how it is Martin, forgotten questions that you suddenly remember. We were still in the building so I thought I would pop back in to ask them in person.” She hadn't taken her eyes off me the whole time and there was something smugly triumphant in her expression. “But I see you have a new team member who I haven't had the pleasure of meeting. Hi, I'm Special Agent Briana Duclair, Homeland Security -- ,” she advanced with her hand out, “-- and you are?”
“Chris Gordon, ma'am” I automatically shook her hand. Her grip was strong and forceful, like a man's would be. The rest of my squad had sour expressions and Olivia looked angry, like her space had been violated, which in a manner of speaking it had.
“Shame on you Martin! You never told me you had a new member of your little squad. And such a handsome one at that.” Now she was making fun of the team and me in one shot. I stepped back a pace from her in annoyance. Her right eyebrow raised slightly as she took in my expression and I had the sinking feeling I had another 'facial coding' expert on my hands. Gina Velasquez had a blank look on her face and I realized she was wearing her poker face. I glanced at the big man who had moved into the doorway when Agent Duclair had stepped forward. He would be Eric Adler, I figured. About six four or six five, probably two hundred and thirty pounds, short brown hair and pale gray eyes that focused like lasers on me. Takata and Sommers entered the outer office behind him and he swung back to put his back to the wall, watching them like a bodyguard in hostile territory. Both officers went on point like attack dogs and you could feel the tension ratchet up immediately. Duclair ignored all that and continued to appraise me. “So Officer Gordon, what is your specialty? Psychic? Clairvoyant?” she asked.
I could feel Gina and the Inspector tighten up at the question, but I had an answer ready.
“I'm a tracker, ma'am.”
“A tracker?” she said, a frown flashing across her face.
“Yes ma'am. Born and raised in the Adirondacks. Worked with Search and Rescue. My gramps trained me, ma'am.” I sounded like a hick. A slow-witted hick. The big guy in the doorway snorted his opinion of my statement. The light of victory in Agent Duclair's eyes dimmed a little as she took in my statement, the truth of which was written on my face.
“A tracker. Martin why the hell would you put a tracker on the team?” she turned, bewildered, to the Inspector.
“Why Briana, Gordon here already proved his worth at the Park with those Hancers. It's amazing the way he can recreate the crime timeline from tracks.” Roma answered, swiftly recovering.
The big guy in the door swiveled his head like a tank turret, his eyes once more locked on me. “You're the one in the youtube video. You took down the last perp when he broke his cuffs.” he stated, his voice deep. Now it was his turn to appraise me, but I recognized the gaze as one fighter evaluating another. Apparently he wasn't impressed, because he snorted again and went back to watching Sommers and Takata watch him.
Duclair still looked bewildered by the tracker stuff and Gina chose that moment to intervene. “Well, if the introductions are out of the way, I need to talk to Chris about his previous evaluations.”
She pointed at her door like I was a new and somewhat slow student on the first day of school. I took her cue and slipped into her office. She closed the door behind me and then shuttered the blinds on the window into the conference room. She turned to me, let out a breath of relief and smiled.
“That was fast thinking Chris. And you did it without lying.”
I shrugged. “I had the creepy feeling that she could read micro expressions like you do.”
She nodded. “Briana and I were in the same class. She can pick up a lie in a heartbeat. But I'm afraid you have only bought us some time. She's smart. She'll think about it, do some digging, look at your files and know you’re not just a tracker. But you did throw her for a loop. That's not something that very many people can lay claim to.”
“Brian felt that I was the reason she was nosing around here in the first place,” I said.
“And did he tell you what she would do if she found you?”
I nodded. “Yeah, offer me a job and a big fat raise.”
She looked surprised. “You aren't interested in her job offer?”
“Well, from what I understand, they cover the whole country. That kinda of travel would be difficult in my situation.”
She smiled. “I hadn't thought of that. Would Tatiana be upset?”
“Well, not if she went with me. But that would stir up the all the vampires. And if she couldn't go with me, she would just follow on her own.”
“Well, stirring up all the vampires in the city should be avoided,” she smiled again.
“No Gina, I mean, it would stir up ALL the vampires, everywhere. Tatiana is the Prodigal Daughter, so to speak. I haven't yet met a vampire that didn't either want to worship her or want to control her.”
Her eyes got wider and wider as I spoke.
“That puts you in a tough spot, doesn't it.”
“Well, it makes me unpopular with the ones that want to control her. As if I needed that. I already have problems with vampires as it is.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
“Well, apparently, I'm particularly attractive to most vampires.”
“I can understand the females, but males too?”
“Huh? I smell good to all vampires, something about AB blood types. What were you talking about?”
She studied me for a moment, surprised.
“You really don't see yourself very well, do you?”
“If you mean, do I know that I'm a freak, then the answer is yes. Most people figure something is wrong with me when they see my eyes.”
She smiled again, shaking her head. “No Chris, you're really far off the mark. Most women don't see you as a freak, they see you as hot.”
I frowned, not sure what my body temperature had to do with it. Then an alternative meaning to her words hit me. “Ah, no, I think you made a mistake, people have always been weirded out by my eyes.”
“Maybe when you were younger that was true, but I can assure you that almost every female that I've observed come in contact with you has found you attractive.”
Before I could argue further, there was a knock at the door and Roma popped in, the rest of the team behind him. “Alright, I got rid of her, and Olivia's got the door locked,” he said. “Quick thinking Chris!”
“Er, thanks Sir,” I replied.
“Gina, what do you think? Will she catch on?” Roma asked.
“Sir, with Briana it's a matter of when, not if. She'll start sniffing around in earnest and the pieces will come together.”
“You're right, of course,” he admitted. “Hmm, I better talk to the Commissioner and the Mayor.” He looked at his watch. “Chris, you should head out soon. We don't want Halloween traffic to make you late for your engagement, now do we?”
I nodded and he was gone, headed to his office to make calls.
Gina looked at me with a hint of amusement. “So, we'll see you on Monday at nine AM, unless we get called out. Have fun, and be careful.”
Chapter 18
I wished her a good weekend and left, saying goodbye to the others as I headed out. As I walked to my car, I started a mental list of things to do. First, I needed to call Gramps, second, look up any info on Briana Duclair. Third, figure out what in my pitiful wardrobe would be fit to wear tonight, as Lydia's delivery had never made it. Traffic was bad, and it took me forty frigging minutes to get back to my part of Brooklyn. When I got off the elevator, a package was waiting in front of my door. I took it inside and hit the answering machine as I opened it. There were four messages on the machine, all from Gramps, starting from late last night to this afternoon. No real message, just a terse 'Chris, call me'. I tried his number but got th
e answering machine at the farm house. Next, I called his cell, but it must have been off, because I got shunted to his voicemail. I left a quick message on both and then looked at the contents of the package.
When I got the box open, I found a note on top of a pile of clothes.
'Chris, THIS is what you need to wear tonight. Your black Sketchers will do for shoes. NO JACKET!
L'
On top of the stack was a fitted white v neck long sleeve tee shirt made from very light cotton, and according to the label, five percent lycra. Bloody red ink drops flowed from the v neck and became gothic letters spelling 'Plasma's best: AB+' with a black stencil underneath 'Property of TAD'. Across the back was a drawing of a fanged vampire skull under the words 'Suck Off!'. Hmm, subtle. I was pretty sure this was a one of a kind shirt. Under the tee was a pair of soft black leather pants, cut like jeans. I didn't bother to try the clothes on, trusting that Lydia pretty much had my sizes down pat.
Thinking I was in for a long night, I made myself a huge plate of cold chicken, three kinds of cheese and fruit from the fridge, washed down with a Sam Adams Octoberfest that I found behind a gallon of full fat milk.
Tanya's gift was in a flat, black box, with a fitted lid that would pop right off. I wrapped it in deep red metallic paper that I had picked up before work and tied it with long piece of black ribbon from the same store. Then I just hung out and chilled, listening to my iPod, and trying not to think of anything at all. When I couldn't stand waiting around anymore, I looked at the clock, eight fifty-two. Close enough. I called a cab, got dressed in my Lydia approved clothes and headed out.
My cabbie asked me if I wanted to be dropped off at the front of the club or back near the end of the line, which I'm sure he figured would save me a two block walk. I told him the front of the club would be fine. “It is your shoe leather.” he shrugged.
The line stretched like a black leather and lace snake down the street and around the corner. Every imaginable variation of a vampire costume was on display. Everywhere the eye could see, ruffled white shirts, jagged black skirts, leather corsets, velvet jackets, fishnet stockings, pale made up faces and blood red lips. I was seriously underdressed.
Arkady was manning the door, guarding the velvet rope with a grim expression. I hadn't really realized just how big he was. Had to go six five, two hundred and sixty pounds of mean vampire. Despite the crowds' intent on getting in, there was a three foot gap between the rope and the next in line. His yellow eyes swiveled to me like gun emplacements and his expression didn't change. I looked back calmly, but I started to hear the mutters and voices in the crowd.
“ -- End of the line sucker—“
“-- Don't even think about it, dude!—“
“-- Ohhh, me likee.—“
“-- Hey Chris!—“
I turned to the last one, locating two female gothic types about fifty people back. It was Paige and Kathy, dressed like Dracula's brides, in gauzy white gowns. I walked over to them.
“Hi Chris, I thought you didn't like this place?” Kathy greeted me, while both looked me up and down.
“Well, I don't really, but I like some of the people and I wasn't given much of a choice.”
Paige spoke up. “Good luck getting in. You could jump in with us, but I think it would start a fight.”
”--Damn right—“
“--I'll kick his ass—“that one came from a tiny little girl in black tights and a shredded white shirt.
Chests puffed up and eyes frowned in menace in my direction, but before I could answer, the line went dead quiet and all eyes looked over my shoulder at something behind me. I turned and looked back, then up. Arkady was about six feet behind me, his glare menacing.
“What the hell are you doing?” he demanded.
A couple of people looked at me like I was gonna get my ass kicked, and they were happy about that.
“Are you hating me then? Trying to get me in trouble? You need to go in! She will know by now!” he said.
“Arkady, these two are my friends. They need to go in with me.”
He instantly moved toward the girls, the crowd parting away from him like the Red Sea.
“What the hell is going on?” an angry female voice said from the front door of the club.
Lydia, dressed in a black micro skirt over white scale pattern tights and a red blouse, stood just outside the club, her arms crossed and her left foot tapping.
“Northern, get your ass in here! Arkady, what's he doing in line?” she demanded.
By now Arkady had herded the three of us toward the door like a giant Russian sheepdog, his expression slightly worried.
“Why Lydia, you look lovely tonight,” I said with a smirk.
“Cut the shit Gordon, and get in here. You do know that all hell broke loose as soon as you got outta that cab, right? Who are these two?” she directed the last at Paige and Kathy, whose eyes were the size of gumballs and just as round.
“These are my friends! Kathy and Paige are my neighbors and I want assurances that they will be looked after properly.” My emphasis on the word friends did not go unnoticed and the little vampire instantly knew what I was talking about. She turned her head slightly toward the door and spoke in a normal voice “Trenton.”
A lean six foot tall vampire slid around the door frame, looking like a pale Abercrombie model. “Ma'am?”
“These are Mr. Gordon's friends. They are to be seated at a VIP table and you are responsible for them tonight.” She gave him a level look and he nodded acknowledgment after a brief glance in my direction. A brief, nervous glance. What was that about?
“Should I clear out one of the celebrities then?” he asked.
“Why don't you let the ladies decide which celebrities should sit with them. Use your judgment.”
Again he nodded and led the two awestruck girls away into the club. Lydia, meanwhile, grabbed my hand and pulled me in and down the stairs, past the bar and into the corridor beyond. I'm pretty sure my feet never hit the ground after the first step. We slowed down outside the same dressing room that Tatiana had cleaned up in a week ago. Lydia glanced down at the red wrapped package in my left hand.
“It's a damn good thing you remembered that. She's been talking about nothing else all day.”
“I'm not sure if she'll like it.” I said.
She snorted. “We'll know soon enough.”
She reached for the door but it yanked open from the inside and I was lost. Tatiana was wearing a black spiderweb that somehow managed to barely cover her breasts and seemed to grow out of a skin tight sheath that hugged her hips and extended in wispy fabric down to her knees. Both sides of the dress were slit almost to her hips and my eyes didn't know which portion of exposed creamy white skin to look at first. She looked me over from top to bottom and then turned to Lydia.
“Oh, thank you for my present. Can I unwrap him now?” she said with a sly grin.
Lydia laughed. “Oh you might want to wait until you open his gift before...um ...unwrapping mine.”
Tatiana's gaze shot down to the pitiful package in my hand. Then she squealed, like a teen girl at a boy band concert. Her liquid blue eyes lit up and she pulled me into the room hard enough to give me whiplash. Figuring that my life depended on it, I surrendered the gift and awaited her disappointment. No way could it live up to this level of expectation. Fingers that could tear steel, gently untied the ribbon and carefully pulled the paper open. The flat black box slid onto her waiting palm and after a quick glance at Lydia and me, she opened it. Two silver bracelets sat in nests of black velvet. Tatiana looked at them in a puzzled manner.
Lydia spoke first. “Silver? You got her silver bracelets, Northern?” She asked in a voice that questioned my sanity.
I shook my head quickly. “No! Not silver,... polished tungsten carbide, inset with sapphires.” I said.
They both looked at me quizzically. I explained, hoping I could salvage some tiny part of the moment.
“Tungsten is one of
the hardest metals known. It takes something as hard as a diamond to really scratch it. They won't ever need polishing and they won't ever tarnish. And they should turn pretty much any knife or sword strike. That's the theory at least,” I finished, a little lamely.
Lydia started to smile and Tatiana touched one gingerly, then with more assurance, pulling it from the velvet.
“I had them sized to fit your forearms, Tanya, figuring you block with that part of your arm.” Her head lifted to meet my gaze and her smile lit up the room. There was a slight blur and I was wrapped in one hundred and twenty pounds of vampire girl. After kissing me to within an inch of my life, she peeled herself off and slid the bracelet up her arm. Thank heavens it fit. The other bracelet swiftly found its new home on her other arm and she was bouncing up and down with excitement, which had an interesting effect on her anatomy. Suddenly, she went from mid bounce to fighting stance, blurring through a series of blocks and strikes. Apparently more than satisfied with the results she proceeded to kiss the hell out of me again. When she came up for air and stepped back, Lydia reached over and turned each bracelet so that the three sapphires were visible, their blue a close match to Tatiana's eyes.
“Holy Crap, Chris. These are really cool. You really do pay attention when I'm telling you stuff,” Lydia said.
“Huh? Did you say something?” I deadpanned, earning a smack on the shoulder.
“If you look on the inside, they have your initials and …well mine too,” I said.
A split second later, Tanya was looking inside both bracelets to confirm this new feature. She looked up at me.
“You have the same middle initial as I do,” she said.
“Actually, my middle name is rather a lot like yours. It’s Anthony.”