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The Day of First Sun (Annie Loves Cham Book 1)

Page 3

by Sheryl Steines


  What’s a little vampire or two? Annie opened the door to the morgue and stood in the darkness, waiting for her eyes to grow accustomed to the low light.

  As the door swung shut behind her, bright overhead lights switched on. Annie winced and shielded her eyes from the florescent light as Jack Ramsey entered the room.

  Feeling exposed, Annie stood still, waiting for him to say something. He clenched his jaw and moved his hand to his gun, which was clearly visible. “So, Annie Pearce, what do you expect to find tonight?”

  Ignoring his question, Annie walked to the center of the room and jiggled one of the three examination tables. They were used recently, they shone brightly from a good scrubbing, and the scent of antiseptic hung in the air. After ensuring that the tables were sturdy and locked in place, she hoisted herself up and winked at Jack before glancing at her watch.

  “Do you have someplace else you need to be?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “So what are you waiting for?”

  Annie scanned the perimeter of the morgue. Five small desks hung against the tiled wall, each piled high with stacks of folders and containers most likely filled with evidence. All the cabinets on the wall were closed; those with glass doors revealed glass containers, microscopes, and other items she couldn’t quite make out. A tall tray table next to her contained a large saw and several small knifes and picks.

  But her gaze rested on the freezer doors, heavy steel, painted the same avocado green as the wall tiles. “I’m just wondering if the victims are still in there.”

  “Where else would they be?” Jack asked, jumping on the table beside hers.

  “Why was the FBI at the crime scene?”

  Bump.

  “What was… ?” Jack jumped from the table and faced the door. His hand hovered over his gun. “Um… did you hear that?”

  It was too soon for the victims to wake; it took three days for the transformation to vampire. Annie assumed a pipe had knocked in the freezer, but she scanned the room anyway. Seeing a few more saws and a large pointy spiky thing, relaxed her in the event a vampire lurked in the cooler. “So you were about to tell me why you were you at the crime scene.”

  Paralyzed, Jack continued to stare at the cooler door. “One of the victims witnessed a murder I’m investigating. I think the suspect killed them.” He fondled the handle of his gun again, clearly debating whether to remove it from its holster. He pulled it out briefly and placed it back.

  “The gun won’t help.” Annie advised. She summoned a glass vial. “This will, though.” She tossed the small glass bottle to him.

  “What…” Jack caught it and examined the clear liquid inside.

  “Throw that close to the ground beside whoever might be in here.”

  Annie strolled to the cooler. Her hand grazed the cool handle, and her gut screamed out a warning. “It’s not your suspect who killed them.” She pulled on the handle. A rush of cold air blew out as the door swung open.

  With shaky hands, Jack drew his gun, she heard a click.

  “I told you a gun won’t help.”

  “Who the hell are you?”

  In her own adrenaline rush, that high just before a vampire fight, Annie summoned an ash stake; her hand wrapped around it tightly and held it out in front of her.

  “Uh, what the hell is that? A stake. Is this holy water? Vampires?” his voice raised a few octaves, in realization and fear. Annie recognized his fear.

  The vampire is going to kill him. “Stay behind me and run like hell if something comes at you.”

  Annie entered the cooler, her flashlight rolling over the walls and shelves. There were five industrial-sized storage units stacked inside the cooler two bodies deep; each contained four shelves. The overflow bodies lay on gurneys pushed up against the wall. There was very little room to maneuver in the small space.

  The bodies lay in plastic body bags, some of which were neatly zippered while others were open, appendages hanging over the sides.

  Annie chose to start with the gurneys, assuming the newest bodies resided there. She checked the first toe tag. Jack cocked his gun.

  “Put it away,” she said. “It’s not going to help. The holy water will.”

  The first toe tag belonged to Jeffrey Marcus, dead as of two weeks prior and not a victim. Replacing the tag, Annie zippered up the bag and moved to the next body. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m not from the CPD. I’m part of the Wizard Guard, an organization of magical police officers.” Checking the next toe tag, Annie highlighted the name, dropped the tag and moved on to the next body.

  “Is this a joke? I should arrest you for tampering with evidence.”

  “Why would I make this up? I’m a witch. I do magic.”

  Scratch… scratch… Annie swung around and scanned the room with her flashlight, examining the body bags for movement. There’s so many here, she thought. It was quiet except for the freezer’s compressor. Annie returned to her search, seeing nothing move.

  Worried there was a third vampire with them, Annie glanced back again after a moment, surveying the room. She could sense time ticking away as clearly as if there were a clock in her head. “Take this,” she said, floating a second vial to Jack. His eyes widened, his jaw clenched again, and he cocked the gun and aimed it at Annie.

  “Help me find our victims,” Annie cried. The vial spun in the air before them. The FBI agent’s eyes darted from the Wizard Guard to the vial; sensing her tension, he grabbed the small glass container with shaking hands and held it tightly, nearly cracking the thin glass.

  Scratch… scratch…

  Annie took a breath and whispered, “There’s something in here with us.”

  “What does that mean?” Jack glanced around the room, pointing his gun haphazardly.

  “Put the gun away. Just uncork the vials and throw them on the vampire. It’s strong enough to slow them down until I stake it.”

  “What the hell is going on?”

  Scratch… scratch… scratch.

  Annie twirled and inched her way toward the scratching while Jack, white as a ghost, hung back at the door.

  “What’s in here with us?”

  “A vampire.”

  Jack blanched. He held the vial in one hand, the gun in the other. Both hands shook violently. “This doesn’t make sense.”

  “For now, it doesn’t have to.” Annie reached for another name tag.

  “Laurie Lispin and Marcus Johansson,” Jack called to her.

  “Thanks.” Annie continued down the line, verifying each tag and moving more quickly now through the bodies. After checking the first two rows, Annie called out, “I got Laurie.”

  Standing over the body, Annie examined the bag for movement and listened for growling, even though she knew it was too early for Laurie to turn. Carefully unzipping the body bag, she released the victim’s hair; it cascaded out and landed against the side of the shelf. Annie lifted the hair, focused her flashlight on the neck, and examined the two puncture wounds. They were not as dark as they had been twenty hours earlier. Annie put her flashlight in her mouth, popped the cork of the holy water, and dribbled a small amount on the victim’s leg. The liquid bubbled and blistered the skin of the vampire.

  Grabbing the stake, Annie thrust it into the vampire’s chest. The demon’s eyes burst open, filled with both surprise and confusion. As the stake punctured the heart, the body burst into flame. A primal scream, raw and angry, escaped the vampire’s lips as the fire consumed her. Her shriek of terror reverberated in the room, bounding off the walls. It lingered even after the body was nothing more than a pile of ash.

  “How… what… how did that happen?” Jack asked, finally entering the cooler.

  “We need… to find Marcus,” Annie managed to grunt through rapid breaths.

  “Are they always… made into vampires?” Apprehensively, he joined Annie’s search for Marcus, checking toe tags on the opposite aisle.

  “No. Vampires are kinda picky. They don�
��t let everyone in. There must’ve been something about Laurie and probably Marcus that appealed to the vampire.”

  “It’s kind of like a club.” Jack choked on a nervous laugh. He coughed.

  “Not so organized, actually. It’s more like a gang. If you turn a victim, they’re indebted to you forever.”

  Annie placed a foot on the lowest shelf and reached above, pulling herself up to check the tag. “Were they both brought here?”

  “Yes. They’d want to keep the victims together to look for evidence and compare.”

  “Where is he then?” Annie jumped down.

  Scratch… scratch… scratch.

  Jack jumped. “Did you hear that?”

  “Yeah. We need to find Marcus before that one escapes his bag.”

  “How is that possible? We only had two victims.” Jack checked another tag before moving on to the next body.

  “You know how many vampires we collect from your morgues?”

  Annie felt like time was speeding up and getting away from her right when she least wanted it. She trained her light in the direction of the scratching, looking for movement.

  “Do I really want to know?” The body four down from Laurie lay in an open bag, two small puncture wounds across the neck. “I found Marcus.” He hastily stepped away from the body.

  After verifying the toe tag, Annie examined Marcus’s neck for the telltale wound.

  “You don’t believe me?”

  “Habit.” The holy water splashed on a very hairy arm and bubbled like a pot of boiling water, leaving blisters and waking the vampire.

  The body that once belonged to Marcus stared at Annie with eyes like black pools, devoid of anything human. The new demon let out an angry growl. Annie lunged at the vampire, pushing the stake into its heart. Much like Laurie, Marcus Johansson exploded into flames and let out a piercing scream. Annie felt the vibration through her body.

  Ash floated in the air, filling the body bag and covering several surrounding bodies, the cement floor, and Annie’s hair. A stray ember whizzed by, and she patted it out. Stepping away from the vampire, Annie stood guard until the last of the embers burnt out.

  “So now what?” Jack asked, wiping ash from his suit pants.

  “I have to find that scratching. It’s somewhere over here.” Determined, Annie scanned each body bag for movement.

  “And after the vampire? There’s two missing bodies.”

  “The Vampire Attack Unit will handle it. No one will be wiser.”

  Scratch… scratch… scratch. The noise was getting louder. One aisle closer to it, Annie perused the body bags. A lump, most likely an arm, pushed against one cover. There you are, Annie thought.

  After two vampire kills, the once-sharpened stake had lost its point. It probably had gotten stuck inside what used to be Marcus and burned along with him. Though still relatively sharp and deadly, it wouldn’t be enough to penetrate the vampire’s chest, so Annie summoned another stake. She held it tightly as the vampire, just waking up, pushed against the zipper of the body bag and growled.

  “What… what are you waiting for?” Jack asked nervously. “I don’t want that thing coming out.”

  “It’s getting irritated, so I can’t just open the bag. It might jump me. I’m trying to determine where the heart is so I can go through the bag. If I miss, it’s gonna piss him off, and you’re my back up.” Annie grimaced.

  The new vampire thrashed inside his miniature tomb. The bag slid around the shelf as the creature twisted and turned.

  “I’m not sure where the heart is. Can you hold this thing down?” she cried. Jack seemed frozen in his spot.

  “I… I…”

  “Damn it!” Annie jumped on top of the vampire and placed her legs on either side, as if her small frame could pin the creature to the table. The creature, too strong for her, thrashed around before pushing through the zipper. A long, pale hand grabbed her throat.

  “Jack!” Her voice garbled under the intense strength of the demon. Jack was still shuddering in the corner, so she whipped a weak spell at the vampire. It did little to release his hand.

  A second arm broke free from the bag and clawed at her. Jack panicked and finally—finally—tossed the first vial of holy water on the vampire. The creature jerked its arm and growled. It swung out its arms, throwing Annie onto another body. She skidded across the plastic bag, pulling an arm with her. The rotted hand tangled in her hair.

  “Ewww, gross!” Pulling the fingers from her hair, she scrambled away.

  The vampire shredded the bag to escape. Pieces of vinyl PVC from the body bag slid to the floor. Its nostrils flared at the smell of fear and found Jack permeated in it, wearing it like cologne.

  Every muscle in Jack’s body shook; he fumbled with the vial, trying to unstop the cork. Finally he tossed the vial; it bounced off the vampire’s chest and dropped to the floor. The water drained from the container without making contact. The vampire’s fangs extended and protruded from its mouth.

  “Annie!”

  The demon lunged, and its foot slipped in the holy water. As it fell to the ground, Annie rushed forward and plunged the stake in its heart. The vampire let out a terrified growl, burst into flame, and squealed.

  “It’s… about…time.” Her voice, hoarse and tired, could hardly be heard over the lingering scream of the vampire as the fire consumed it.

  Nodding, Jack collapsed to the floor with a hand clutching his heart. He’s having a heart attack, Annie thought. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. That was a little more excitement than I’m used to.”

  Three body bags lay empty, the victims missing without a trace. Ash covered everything, and shredded plastic lay on the floor. Annie surveyed the damage.

  “Not too horrible,” she ventured.

  “If this isn’t too horrible, I’d hate to see what is.” Annie could sense Jack’s weariness in his comment; the experience had clearly shaken him. He took a deep breath. “I have so many questions.”

  “And I have so many answers.” Helping him stand, she guided him from the cooler, slamming the door shut behind them.

  “So who killed them?” Jack fell into the desk chair, looking older than his actual age, which must have been his forties. His suit was rumpled; his hair, a matted, sweaty mess.

  Annie replaced the examination table to its original location as nothing else had been touched.

  “A vampire killed them. It doesn’t really matter. We have no way of knowing which one sucked.”

  “So it goes unsolved?”

  Annie sighed. She didn’t really feel like explaining how every cell in the human body died when turned because technically the vampire was a reanimated dead person. There was never any distinguishing DNA.

  “Sometimes we have no choice. All we can do is hope to quell the number of vampire killings. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best we have.”

  “So when do you call the attack group? Someone will be here at 6 a.m.”

  Annie held up a finger and dialed her phone. “Hey. Yeah. I got ’em. Though I found a third vampire in here.” Nodding several times, Annie finally hung up. “They’ll be here in about five minutes.”

  Jack opened his mouth to speak but closed it quickly, at a loss for words. He rested his head in his hands.

  “You know I can’t have you telling anyone about this.”

  “What would I even say?” He cleared his parched throat. Since they were no longer at risk, Annie summoned a bottle of water and handed it to him.

  “Where… oh, never mind.” Jack washed down the bottle in one sip.

  “You okay?”

  Jack regarded the question carefully, giving his full attention to the answer. “Yeah. I can’t unsee what I saw, but I think it will fine.”

  “Well, Jack. It’s been nice to meet you. Let’s hope we won’t see each other any time soon.”

  “I’m okay with that.”

  Chapter 3

  The vampire Sturtagaard evaded the Wizard Gu
ard for weeks by hiding in dank, dark places not fit for the honest and good—only for the leftovers that society had no room for. To be honest, the creature, though all demon, chose to avoid such places himself unless chased there by the Wizard Guard.

  Surprisingly, it only required a primitive yet sketchy bit of magic to elude the Wizard Guard, and the vampire wondered how adept the group really was. But then, Sturtagaard found himself in an abandoned warehouse waiting for sustenance to walk down the street.

  Maybe they aren’t so stupid after all. The vampire grimaced and plucked a mouse from the window sill. As it dangled in front of him, its little legs wriggled in the air. Unable to escape, the small creature squeaked wildly. Sturtagaard threw it out the window.

  The thousand-year-old demon paced. Even with a drinking establishment at the end of the block, this location offered him nothing; the vampire was hungry and desperately needed blood. Gazing out the open window, Sturtagaard glared at the bar, which currently had no patrons, and he waited for his next meal.

  Feeding under duress felt crude; Sturtagaard preferred to take his time—take pleasure in seducing and playing with his quarry—before draining victims of blood. But he could no longer afford to be choosy. His hands shook from lack of blood. It was time to settle for someone off the street—someone like… her.

  Like a gift, the girl appeared. Young and possibly beautiful if not for the layers of makeup caked across her face. A fake leather skirt emanated a smell of sweat and plastic as it hung from her thin frame. Plastic heels clicked against the crumbling sidewalk until her ankle twisted in the high shoes. A grin crept across Sturtagaard’s thin lips.

  On their own, his fangs extended and his mouth watered, prompting him to step a long, lean leg out of the second-story window, gracefully landing beside her.

  “Where’d you come from, honey?” When she smiled nervously, the lines aged her once-pretty face, but Sturtagaard didn’t care. He was distracted by the rich, sweet smell of iron pulsing through her veins, making his head spin and his eyes glaze in pleasure. And when a bony hand reached for his thick ebony hair, a longing moan escaped his lips; his jaw clenched shut to hide the fangs.

 

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