Hunter's Kiss

by Niall Teasdale

  Mike sipped his whiskey. Dione did not seem inclined to comment so he went on. ‘But you’re pretty obviously not dead, so there’s the modern vampire subculture idea that vampires are people who either need or want to feed on this “life essence” through blood or psychic emanations. You seem closer to that idea, but there’s the fangs. You’re clearly different, physiologically, from a normal human, if you’ll pardon the expression… A different species? Something that evolved beside Homo sapiens?’

  Dione took a sip of whiskey, rolling it around her mouth before swallowing. ‘Ten out of ten for effort, six for results. I’m dead. Someone killed me when I was twenty-one, and then I woke up again. Death isn’t that big a thing. I’m sure Leanne knows how to resuscitate someone who is, technically, dead if she hasn’t actually done it by now.’

  ‘She has, but that’s not what we’re talking about here, is it?’

  ‘Yes and no. We, vampires, carry a virus in our blood which gets into our saliva, among other secretions. A lot of the “powers” we have stem from that. You were bitten, how did you feel while it was happening?’

  Mike’s brow furrowed. ‘Kind of weird. I was scared. I couldn’t move the guy and he was sinking his teeth into my neck, but it was almost like I didn’t care. I was… elated, euphoric. Drugged?’

  ‘The virus. Virus is barely the right word for it. It’s a big beast, but I’ll let Winthrop explain all that. Once it gets into your system, you get endorphin release, reactions in the nervous system. You stop feeling pain, start feeling high, and then it spreads. After about fifteen minutes, it’s working through your system and stimulating cell replication, immune responses, healing. Nothing really happens unless the body it’s in dies, however. Cell death, necrosis, is a normal function of the body when injured. The virus senses the release of chemicals from necrotic cells and goes nuts. Locally, that means the wound from the bite tends to close quickly, but if it’s systemic, if the body is dying, the virus takes over. Necrosis is blocked and the virus starts rewriting DNA. Cells are shuttled around like pinballs. It usually takes several days while the body rebuilds itself internally and the fangs grow. Some of us’ – she reached up and, much to Mike’s embarrassment, squeezed her breasts together – ‘undergo some more gross anatomical changes.’

  ‘You’re saying that you have big… your chest is larger because you’re a vampire?’

  ‘Because of my lineage. All those myths all across the world? Well, not all of them are related to real vampires directly, but several come from different mutations in the virus. The current theory says there was a common ancestor thirty or forty thousand years ago, but that divided into a number of distinct species and subspecies, just as humans evolved along different lines. Except that with humans, we ended up with one dominant subspecies, and the virus hasn’t ever developed a truly dominant form. There have been losers, lots of them, but no total winners.’

  ‘Right. So the decayed corpse, walking plague legends from Eastern Europe are one type, and the vampire-as-sex, Byronesque archetype is another.’

  ‘Very good. Actually, the various types do tend to be modelled after mythological archetypes more than truly ecological niches, but it has the same effect. The different subspecies have evolved to feed in different ways, which reduces competition for prey. Originally anyway. Like with humans, all the social changes civilisation has brought with it have tended to make evolutionary pressure less important. To our knowledge, there haven’t been any new subspecies in the last century or so.’

  ‘Okay, so what… lineage are you?’

  ‘I,’ Dione said, pushing her chest out, ‘am a succubus.’

  ‘No kidding.’

  ‘No kidding. We exemplify the sexual predator, the spirit who comes in the night and drains blood, leaving our victims with a memory of a wild sexual encounter. I’m a wet dream.’

  ‘I think I should keep my mouth shut.’

  Dione laughed: a warm, rolling laugh which went straight into the parts of your brain that civilised society tended to frown upon outside the bedroom. ‘The virus puts my kind through a sort of second puberty. Secondary sexual characteristics are enhanced. Large breasts with erect nipples, narrow waist and wide hips, long legs, a rather obvious pubic mound, and more prominent, reddened labia minora.’ She trotted off the list like she was making notes for shopping, and it somehow made Mike feel uncomfortable, disquieted rather than aroused. ‘And thank you for not getting excited by the fact that I’m basically a walking sex doll.’

  Mike grimaced. ‘It’s kind of tacky. I mean, you’re not, but…’

  ‘Your ability to distinguish between specific cases and the generally tacky nature of the thing is noted.’

  ‘You told him about the succubus lineage then,’ Pat said, appearing at their table with two glasses of whiskey. ‘And you’re drinking too slowly.’

  ‘We’ve been talking, smart ass. Got a minute to sit down?’

  ‘I can spare a few to educate your new partner, sure.’ Pat settled into the booth beside Dione: close, there was an easy familiarity between them, and something of the same quality of sexuality.

  ‘You’re not a succubus too, are you?’

  ‘I wish,’ Pat replied. ‘With her boobs, I could double our drink sales. I’m a valentine.’

  ‘The last, known, subspecies to evolve,’ Dione explained. ‘Eighteen forty-three in New Orleans. Valentines are a subspecies of the succubi, so there are some similarities. It’s amusing in a way. Succubi are one of the oldest lineages still around and we reproduce rarely, and we created the newest subspecies. Valentines are a little more modern, more targeted. I can emit a sort of pheromone which causes arousal in people around me. Great for orgies. I was a big hit in Rome. Pat can breathe out a more concentrated, directional version so it’s easier for her to get just who she wants worked up and it has a faster effect.’

  Pat was grinning. ‘We noticed you left the club kind of in a hurry on Friday night, Mike.’

  Mike’s cheeks coloured. ‘Yeah, uh, I was feeling a bit… Wait, that was you?’

  ‘I had a little chat with Leanne. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘I should probably be pissed off, but I’m not that hypocritical. That’s a nasty ability to have, especially in the wrong hands.’

  ‘The “wrong hands” is why we have people like Di, and you, and places like the Candle. There are a couple of places in the city, most cities, where vampires can go to find supplicants. Uh, that’s what we call people willing to give us blood for free. We don’t need to feed that often, about once a month, so most modern vampires live in a straight relationship or live off random supplicants.’

  ‘“Straight” is more vampire jargon,’ Dione added. ‘You’ll get the hang of it. A straight vampire is one who has a monogamous relationship with a single supplicant. The gender of both parties is unimportant.’

  ‘We hide our slang in general slang a fair bit, but we understand it in context.’

  ‘I’m going to need to relearn half of what I know,’ Mike grumbled. ‘Okay, what other lineages are there? What was the one we killed?’

  ‘Ended,’ Dione corrected. ‘He died years ago. We say “ended.” He was transylvanian, a subspecies of carpathian. And, yes, the first of them was Vlad Dracul.’

  ‘Putz,’ Pat muttered.

  ‘The carpathians are the most common lineage in Europe and they used to dominate America. Transylvanians are a kind of devolved version, in a way, but they have one unique trick which makes them dangerous. They can go into a sort of frenzy which makes them exceptionally strong.’

  ‘I don’t feel so bad about not being able to push him off now,’ Mike said. ‘I thought strength was part of the bargain.’

  ‘Most vampires are a little stronger and somewhat faster than average humans. We don’t feel pain the way you do either, so we can push our muscles to extremes, but it’s not that hard to rip something doing it.’

  ‘A mistake you try not to repeat,’ Pat added. ‘I speak
from experience.’ Her brows narrowed. ‘I just wanted a damn pickle too.’

  ‘All right,’ Dione said, grinning, ‘I think that’s enough for one night.’ She reached over to her coat, sitting on the seat beside her, and removed some things from a pocket. ‘You’ll need these.’ She placed an ID card and a memory stick on the table.

  Mike picked up the card and saw his own face looking back at him. ‘I figured I’d have to wait until Monday.’

  ‘You’ll need it for part of your homework. The stick is for the other part. Plug that in before you turn your laptop on. It’ll boot into an isolated system OS and VPN into the office servers. For now, you’re restricted to some general familiarisation documents. Don’t let anyone else see them. When you’ve looked through the documents on the council system, go see your local area rep. He’s a carpathian and you’ve met him before.’

  ‘I have?’

  ‘Eddy Ross, he runs the grocery store down the road from you.’

  ‘Shit! How many vampires are there in New York?’

  ‘The city itself? About thirty-five hundred. Another hundred in Jersey City, a few more in Newark, and eleven thousand five hundred in our region as a whole, which covers both New York State and New Jersey. That’s excluding itinerants and rogues.’

  ‘Damn! So much for “no such thing as vampires.”’

  Part Two: There Are Vampire Accountants?

  New York, NY, 24th November 2014.

  A sleek, black sports car pulled up outside Mike’s apartment building and the window rolled down. Dione leaned over, resting her hand on the central console, and looked up at Mike. ‘Come on, get in.’

  Mike’s gaze ran the length of the vehicle. European, right-hand drive, long in the nose with a hefty rear end, all smooth lines, and it probably had an engine that could take it to the moon. ‘This is your ride?’

  ‘Get your ass in. Lot to get through today.’

  Mike opened the door and settled into the soft, well-fitting seat. The racing harness took a second to figure out and then Dione was pulling out and on her way. The engine purred like a kitten.

  ‘I was kind of expecting something less… ostentatious,’ Mike commented.

  ‘It’s comfortable and fast, and it’s got storage for two shotguns and my sword. Also, people stare at me driving it, but all they see is “hot girl in a hot car” and the details escape them.’

  ‘You have a sword?’

  ‘I’m old-fashioned. Vampires are tough bastards. The virus will bring us back from damn near anything short of incineration. But we don’t regrow limbs, so cutting a vampire’s head off is a pretty effective way of ending them. But I learned to use a sword when I was seven and I’ve had a lot of practice. You don’t have the time so you get to employ the easy option, which is massive trauma to certain vital areas.’

  ‘Heart or brain?’

  ‘Preferably both. Our weapon of choice is a twelve-gauge tactical shotgun. We use three-inch shells, hardened slugs with a high-explosive core. Hit an unarmoured vampire in the chest and it’ll open him up like Christmas. That should give you time to put another round in his head. He won’t be getting up from that. Did you go see Eddy Ross?’

  ‘No. Hey, there was a lot of stuff to read. I’m going to see him tonight after work. I need milk anyway and I thought it would look more casual if I just happened to be in the shop. Less “I’m the Hunter’s new partner and I’m stopping by to intimidate you.”’

  ‘Perhaps. All right, what did you learn from all your reading?’

  ‘Well… The council system was first formulated along with the laws of vampire society in four thirteen BC when Aulus Cornelius Cossus and–’

  ‘Not what did you remember. What did you learn?’

  ‘Huh. There wasn’t much personal in there. What were you doing in four thirteen BC?’

  ‘Four thirteen… Athens. I spent almost twenty years as a hetaera, basically a high-class prostitute. Kind of a sweet deal for a woman, back then obviously. We had to pay taxes, but we were allowed to take part in symposia, have an education. The men actually listened to us. I’m not sure it’s better now. You’re stalling.’

  ‘No, I’m interested. We learn things in history lessons that you lived through. If Leanne ever finds out what you are, she’ll be fascinated. After she flips out, obviously.’

  ‘Obviously. So?’

  ‘A bunch of vampires got together in Rome during the Republic and decided that the free-for-all, all-you-can-suck bistro needed some rules or they were going to have problems. Cities were great for vampires, lots to eat, plenty of general noise to cover their activities, but because they were so good, they attracted more and more. Rome was getting overpopulated and they needed rules. So they made some up which, apparently, were fairly well thought out because they mostly still apply.’

  ‘The core of our law is a little like yours, fundamental, common-sense rules. Though shalt not kill is in both, for example.’

  ‘Yeah, but your laws started out with the idea of keeping vampires secret from their food.’ Mike frowned. ‘No, that’s a little unfair. Protection of territory is in both. We’re told not to steal and you’re told not to poach supplicants. I guess that covers coveting thy neighbour’s wife too.’

  ‘Conflict reduction. Vampires duking it out in public over supplicants is a dead giveaway, so you’re not supposed to do it.’

  ‘It does seem logical, don’t get me wrong. Anyway, to enforce the laws, there was an elected council, based on the Roman Senate and called the Concilium, and they could appoint a Venator to eliminate vampires who disobeyed. Venator became Hunter at the Concordat of Mediolanum in three seventy-eight AD when everything got written down and formalised into a system of regional councils under the Summus Concilium or High Council. The Summus Concilium is in London, England now. It moved there from Paris when the French decided chopping heads off was a good idea.’

  ‘Vampires aren’t fond of guillotines.’

  ‘No, I’d imagine not. I did notice one bit of history with your name in it. From fourteen sixteen to fourteen seventy-two, you were the Hunter for the Summus Concilium. It doesn’t say why, but it says it was the only time there was a Hunter given the task of enforcing the laws everywhere. Doesn’t say why it ended either.’

  ‘It wouldn’t,’ Dione responded flatly. Her eyes were focused on the traffic as she threaded through it on the way south. The big engine barely seemed to notice the sudden surges in speed as she shifted forward in bursts.

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘Maybe, if we get to know each other really well, or if you really need to know, I’ll tell you about it.’

  Mike’s brow furrowed a little. ‘Okay.’

  Dione glanced at him. ‘Kate and I were lovers for five years, partners for eight, and I never told her. Don’t think it’s personal, or a trust issue.’

  ‘Fair enough. I know this is kind of partisan, but how come the Summus Concilium hasn’t moved to America?’

  ‘Various people keep suggesting it, but it keeps meeting opposition. The London crowd want to keep it there, and we don’t want them coming over here and messing up our system. The British can be so tight-assed.’

  ‘Ha! You have to have lived there. London.’

  ‘Oh yes. I’ve been the Hunter there. I left in eighteen eighty-nine to come to Boston.’

  ‘Eighteen eighty-nine… That means you were there during the Jack the Ripper murders.’

  ‘The Whitechapel Murders, if you please. There was no Jack.’

  ‘You seem pretty sure. They never solved… um…’

  ‘They never solved the murders because I killed the vampires responsible and the Summus Concilium covered it up.’

  ‘Well, shit! I told you knowing you was fascinating.’

  Dione chuckled, a throaty, slightly evil sound. ‘It’ll screw with your head, believe me. Kate used to hate it when I’d tell her something she’d been taught was total bollocks.’

  Mike watched as the vampire’s hands t
ightened on the wheel. ‘You miss her.’

  ‘Yes. Of course. She was a good friend as well as a great lay and a good cop.’ And she went on before he could comment. ‘And you’re going to meet one result of the Whitechapel Murders today.’

  ‘I… I am?’

  ‘You’ll see.’

  ~~~

  The Specialist Crimes Unit office was a crappy little room at the back of the first floor of the Midtown South precinct building. It looked almost as though it had been converted from a storeroom at some point, though it had a keycode lock and there was a cupboard door at the back. In the room, however, there were just two desks sitting in the middle so they could face each other. There were computers and telephones, two filing cabinets, and a small table with a coffee machine on it, empty.

  Dione watched Mike looking around at the room, a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. ‘Everything from your desk at Midtown North should be here,’ she said, indicating the right-hand desk.

  Mike checked the drawers. ‘It, uh, looks like it.’

  ‘You were expecting something a little more prestigious?’

  ‘Uh… Well, you said I’d be meeting the rest of the unit, and this looks like it’s just us.’

  ‘Hmm, yes. Try the closet.’

  Perplexed, Mike walked over to the door at the back and turned the knob. His eyebrows went up as he found a pair of metal doors behind the standard wooden one. ‘An elevator?’ A red light came on over the doors.

  ‘Yes.’ Dione walked over and said, ‘Dione requesting admittance,’ and the light turned green and the doors slid apart.

  ‘Voice identification? Cool.’

  ‘That’s the first part, and we’ll get you registered for all this once we’re downstairs.’ She walked into the car, waited for him to follow, and then put her eye to a device set into the wall.

  ‘And a retina scanner?’

  The doors slid closed and Dione straightened her back. ‘We take security rather seriously.’ She turned around as the car started moving down and, sure enough, when it stopped, the doors behind them opened onto a lobby of some sort. The walls were blank and white and there was a single door at the other side which looked very solid. Dione moved out into the room and stood in front of the thick, metal door and waited. After a second, she said, ‘Let us in, Mary, you’re going to have to meet him sooner or later.’ There was another pause and then, ‘Don’t make me use the damn keycode.’