Hunter's Kiss

by Niall Teasdale

  ‘Okay,’ Leanne said, ‘so the myth isn’t very nice, but the artwork is.’

  ‘Well,’ Mike said, ‘I’m going to look at it properly later. Diana will probably find it interesting too, and I think her Polish is better than mine.’

  Georgina looked at him, clearly a little surprised. ‘She speaks Polish?’

  ‘And Russian, uh, Spanish, French, German, Mandarin… Greek… There were some others, I think.’

  ‘I do believe I’m going to find your partner quite fascinating.’

  Mike had no doubt that that was true; he was just a little worried about how his mother was going to take quite how fascinating Dione was.

  ~~~

  It was just after one p.m. when the doorbell rang and Georgina was on her feet and hurrying to the door before Mike could head her off. Leanne had decided that clothes were in order for Dione’s arrival, so she was dressed in a T-shirt and jeans, her feet still bare. Heading Georgina off had been partially to check on what Dione was wearing because her casual attire was usually a little risqué, but Mike need not have worried on that count: Dione walked in wearing a short, black dress, but it was relatively conservative, made from a closely woven woollen fabric with a high collar and sleeves. She had a large bag with her: possibly presents.

  Georgina, however, looked a little strange as she followed the vampire back into the lounge. If Dione was right and Georgina was a sensitive, then maybe she was feeling what Mike did around persons of the fanged persuasion, but he was not sure whether she knew what that meant.

  ‘I guess I should do the formal thing,’ Mike said. ‘Diana Hunter, my partner, this is Georgina Williams, my mother.’

  Dione smiled and held out her hand. ‘It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Williams. Mike talks about you often.’

  Georgina rallied herself and took the offered hand. ‘It’s nice to meet you too. Especially so early. It always took ages for Davey to invite his partners over. His second one took even longer, but she was attractive and blonde.’

  Dione laughed her melodic laugh. ‘Leanne was lucky. We met even before Mike knew he was going to be my partner.’

  ‘Would you care for a drink? We have… various things.’

  Dione nodded. ‘You’re drinking wine. A glass of that would be a good start.’

  ‘I’ll check the turkey while I’m in the kitchen. Mike, would you give me a hand?’

  ‘Sure,’ Mike said, climbing to his feet and following his mother. When Georgina poured the wine and then stood, facing away from him, he knew more or less exactly what was coming.

  ‘Michael…’ She used his full name when she had something hard to say and he held his breath. ‘Is… Is there something about Diana you’d like to tell me?’

  ‘Uh… probably one or two things.’

  Georgina turned around. ‘You’re hedging, young man.’

  ‘Well… Yeah, because I’m not absolutely sure what you’d like me to say.’

  Narrowing her eyes, Georgina turned again and opened the oven door, checking inside before waving at her son to lift the bird out. She closed the door again as he put the basting tray on the hob, and then she reached for a meat thermometer to check it was cooking through.

  ‘Diana is not… quite like other women,’ Georgina said. ‘Considering the unit you work for, I’m going to find it hard to imagine that you don’t know how different she is. I… sense things around some people, and I sensed it when I opened the door. She’s–’

  ‘A vampire.’ Georgina and Mike turned at the sound of Dione’s voice from behind them. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, but your intent was obvious enough, Mrs Williams. We’ve met before. Do you remember?’

  ‘It was a long, long time ago. Your hair was different.’

  ‘I used to wear it up back then. And you were Georgie, a quiet little girl with red hair.’

  A quick flicker of a smile crossed Georgina’s lips. ‘Mike, give us a moment, please. If Leanne asks, tell her we’re consulting on turkey readiness.’

  ‘If you’re sure,’ Mike said. Georgina gave him a nod, as did Dione, and he walked out, fixing a smile on his face.

  Dione held out her hand again. ‘Hello, Mrs Williams. I’m Dione, once of the city state of Sparta, now the official enforcer of vampire law in New York, what we call a Hunter.’

  Georgina’s lips tightened a little, and then she took Dione’s hand again. ‘Considering that you knew me when I was little Georgie, I believe you might call me Georgina. I assume that Leanne doesn’t know.’

  ‘Oh she knows. I told her straight out.’

  ‘But being Leanne, she doesn’t believe it.’ There was an implied ‘of course’ in Georgina’s statement.

  ‘Exactly. To her, I am currently an object of curiosity with some odd dentition and overly sensitive eyes. Oh, and to set her mind at rest about me and Mike being partners, I’m a lesbian.’

  ‘What lineage are you?’

  Dione raised an eyebrow. ‘You know more about us than I’d imagined.’

  ‘Oh, my mother told me about my father and what happened. Several years after he died, when I was old enough to understand. After she was gone, and with Davey being so rational about things, it was easy to just put it aside as myth and legend, but now and then I’d meet someone who felt… different.’ She lifted fingers to touch her right temple. ‘In here.’ Turning, she checked the thermometer, nodded. ‘Could you lift it back in? My back isn’t what it once was.’

  Dione picked up the gloves Mike had used and lifted the bird without effort. ‘Mike inherited the same sensitivity. It’s one of the reasons he was picked. And I’m a succubus. Not a common lineage.’

  ‘Not one I was told about. I can see why you’d want to put Leanne’s mind at rest. Perhaps you can put mine at rest too. Is my son safe?’

  Dione waited until the turkey was back in the oven before answering. ‘I won’t lie and say he is, but he wasn’t when he was just a normal detective. I’ll say this… I will do my utmost to ensure that Mike stays alive for as long as he’s my partner. I’m sorry to say that that isn’t always good enough, but it’s the best I can do.’

  ‘And it’s all I can really ask.’

  ‘But you wish you could ask more.’

  ‘Of course, he’s my son.’ Dione nodded: there was really nothing else to say. ‘At the wake for my father,’ Georgina said after a second, ‘you said something to me. You said, “I’m sorry, I can’t bring your father back, but I can find the men who did this to him.” Did you?’

  ‘Every last one of them,’ Dione replied, a hard edge in her voice.

  Georgina picked up the wine glass and handed it over. ‘Thank you,’ she said.

  ~~~

  Dione flopped onto the sofa beside Leanne, groaning as she did so. ‘You eat here every week?’

  ‘Well, every time I’m free,’ Leanne replied. ‘The residency has put a couple of holes in my schedule.’

  ‘Why aren’t you shaped like a beach ball?! I won’t need any more food before New Year!’

  Leanne giggled. ‘Exercise. And metabolism. Always had a fairly fast metabolism. You’re one to talk. Lisa says there isn’t an ounce of fat on you.’

  ‘Not entirely true. There’s a couple of pounds sitting in plain sight. Anyway, Georgina, my meagre talents bow to your skill in the kitchen.’

  ‘Your assistance was valued,’ Georgina said. ‘I suspect you of downplaying those talents you mentioned.’

  ‘Hmm, maybe a little. I’m not bad in a kitchen. But that was excellent, even if I’ll have to upsize my clothes for a day or two.’

  ‘Presents!’ Leanne squeaked. She did not exactly bolt for the remaining pile of gifts, and she groaned as she sat up, but she was soon kneeling beside the tree to hand gifts over to Dione. In turn, Dione reached for her bag.

  ‘If you’re going to insist on this in my current condition,’ Dione said, ‘I have a few to hand out too.’ She pulled one free and handed it over to Georgina, waiting for her to unwrap
it. ‘Mike said you liked vodka and I know he gets you some, but I know a man who imports various brands and I like Biała Dama, so…’

  ‘White Lady,’ Georgina said. ‘Named for the ghost of Julia Lubomirska, a Polish princess, no less.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Another package came out and was handed to Mike. ‘Winthrop thought this might be useful.’

  Mike unwrapped, and grinned. ‘Right… Mythology for Dummies. Very good.’

  ‘Oh, you have to see his other book later,’ Leanne put in. ‘Open this one.’ Dione unwrapped a flattened box not dissimilar to the one Leanne’s teddy had arrived in. Raising an eyebrow, Dione opened the box and then lifted out a short, lacy silk wrap. Leanne was blushing a little, but she sounded confident enough. ‘I saw it that time you found us shopping, and when I knew you were coming today, I thought I’d get it for you. You can, uh, wear it for Lisa.’

  ‘It’s beautiful, thank you.’ Another box, smaller, was removed from the bag. ‘And this is yours.’

  Leanne unwrapped the gift quickly and pulled out a silver chain with a carved silver tablet hanging from it. The tablet showed two seated figures, an older man holding a staff and a younger woman who seemed to be talking to the snake climbing onto her lap. ‘Is that–’

  ‘Asclepius and his daughter Hygieia. I know someone who makes unusual items of jewellery and I thought that was appropriate. The father of medicine for a doctor.’

  Mike’s present was more practical: a new shoulder rig for his pistol with holders for two spare magazines. Leanne described it as ‘all black, futuristic, and sexy,’ which made Dione laugh. There was also a note from Mary saying that Mike’s present would be waiting in the office when he was next in, ‘in case he had forgotten their date.’ Mike had had to explain that the date was online in a shooting game. Mike had bought Dione a black velvet choker with a little cloisonné brooch mounted on it, given that chokers seemed to be a thing with her.

  ‘Where’s this “other book” I’m supposed to look at?’ Dione asked when they were done.

  Leanne picked up the huge book, returned to her place beside Dione, and handed it over. ‘It’s in Polish, but Mike says you can read that.’

  ‘It’s been a little while, but…’ Her eyes widened as she opened the cover and fly sheet. ‘Oh, it’s the Lisiewicz! There can’t be more than a dozen of these left and there were never more than a hundred or so. Where on Earth did you get it?’

  ‘My father was given it by his grandfather,’ Georgina said. ‘The history before that… Your guess is as good as mine.’

  ‘Well, it dates back to seventeen fifty or thereabouts. It was printed, but then each plate was coloured by hand. Lisiewicz spent a couple of decades gathering the stories together and then creating the pictures. He was… nowadays you’d call him an anthropologist, I guess, and quite an artist, though his style did not appeal to all. Considering that some of the images are a little risqué for the time, the book was sold by private subscription and many of them have just gone missing.’

  ‘It’s valuable?’ Mike asked, frowning.

  Dione flipped open another page. ‘It’s in good condition, and rare. They never come up for auction so it’s hard to judge, but I’d imagine it would raise quite a price.’

  ‘All the more reason to have it living with a policeman,’ Georgina said, seeing where her son’s mind was going.

  ‘Winthrop would certainly love to see it,’ Dione said. ‘The plates are as beautiful as I’d heard. He had a rather modern style, in many ways. He liked angles, striking, unnatural features.’

  ‘And naked women,’ Leanne said.

  ‘I did say it was risqué. Let’s see… An easy one. This is Baba Yaga.’

  ‘She was some sort of witch, right?’

  ‘Something like that. Wise woman, crone. She could be nurturing, helpful, or she could try to eat you. Always an ugly, disfigured, or ferocious woman, she lived in a house which rested on one or two chicken legs.’

  ‘Where do they come up with this stuff?’

  ‘I honestly have no idea. I’d imagine it’s myth spun on myth. Perhaps someone met an old woman in a forest who lived in a tree house and the story built from there.’ Dione turned the page and chuckled. ‘And here we see Lisiewicz’s love of the female form showing. The heading is “Bannik” which was a spirit who occupied bath houses, and here he is watching over three young women bathing.’

  ‘I think I am detecting a theme. We saw the Rusalla page earlier.’

  ‘Rusalka.’

  Leanne gave a little grimace. ‘Okay, but I think it’s a good job you didn’t give Mike this when he was a teenager, Georgina. He might have developed some very strange tendencies.’

  Georgina smiled in response. ‘Instead, he’s just a breast man, like his father. Though he blushes more easily than Davey ever did. To be honest, I’d forgotten about that book until Mike told me about the unit.’

  ‘It’s lucky you remembered,’ Dione said. ‘Ah, and here we have the domovoi, a household spirit. Every home is supposed to have one to protect it, not unlike many other household entities found throughout Europe. This one is clearly something of a Peeping Tom since he’s watching the wife of the house asleep in her bed.’

  Leanne giggled. ‘Definitely a theme here.’

  ‘Not always, but did you know that the Slavs believed German was a male spirit who brought rain and hail?’

  ‘It doesn’t seem a far stretch,’ Mike commented.

  ‘Well, I hope you placated him last night or we could be in for some rough weather. This is the female version of the domovoi, the kikimora. Like him, she would do good deeds if all was in order, but she could turn disruptive if the house was not to her liking. She’s also linked to nightmares, because of this one.’ Dione flipped over a page or two and Leanne looked down at the plate.

  ‘Oh! That’s… maybe the best one so far.’ The picture was of a tall, elegant woman, a black robe wound about her body to hide her hips and one leg, but her breasts were bare aside from the mass of long, black hair which fell almost to her nipples. The face was angular, shadowed, and the eyes were dark. ‘She… looks kind of like you, Diana.’

  Mike peered at the painting and raised an eyebrow. ‘She actually does,’ he said as Dione held the book up for Georgina to see.

  ‘That one,’ Georgina said. ‘I always thought that was the best of his pictures. Somehow there’s more life in it, even though the subject is… not that pleasant.’

  ‘Mora,’ Dione said, ‘the Slavic version of the nightmare or mara. In Croatia, she was said to take the form of a beautiful woman who would come to men while they slept, torture them with desire for her, and suck the life from their sleeping bodies.’

  ‘Night terrors,’ Leanne said. ‘I recall that a lot of this kind of legend is put down to parasomnia.’

  ‘Hmm… Night terrors are not at all common in adults, but it is the usual explanation for the feeling of something sitting on your chest, the panic.’

  ‘Well, what else could it be?’

  Dione leaned back on the sofa and drew in a breath. ‘All right, just to play Devil’s advocate… If there were a creature, a spirit, which could enter a house undetected and then influence a sleeper, paralysing them and suppressing their breathing, that would be an explanation. You would say there is not, but how would you prove that someone having an attack is not being afflicted by such a creature?’

  ‘Uh… I’d get them into a lab environment, use EEG to monitor brain activity…’

  ‘And you’d watch them exhibit abnormal brain function, but their sleeping mind, trapped in a state where reality is subject to the subconscious, is also being subjected to a terrifying situation. They can’t move or breathe, their heart rate will rise, brain activity will go wild. You’re looking for a cause by observing effects.’

  ‘Okay, well… Occam’s Razor. The simplest solution…’ Leanne trailed off, her lips tightening and her brow furrowing as she tried to think of a simplest solution which was n
ot supernatural.

  ‘There are actually thought to be a number of possible physiological initiators, including sleep deprivation and fever, and there is possibly an inherited predisposition, but something is causing this reaction in sleeping people and no one really knows what it is. It could be an invisible spirit and that is actually quite a simple solution. Just because we’ve never seen one, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Black holes can’t be seen, and it took several geniuses to produce the theories predicting them, but we now have evidence of their existence by observing their effect on other objects.’ Dione paused, grinning. ‘And now you see the problems we have to put up with at SCU.’

  Leanne’s expression had been getting annoyed, but now she broke into a grin. ‘Yeah… It’s got to be incredibly frustrating but kind of fascinating. Your Doctor Winthrop has got to be quite an amazing scientist. He’s a doctor of physics or something, I assume.’

  ‘He’s a doctor of all sorts,’ Mike said, ‘including medicine. He’s older than Mom so he’s had plenty of time to learn this stuff. He does our autopsies as well as a lot of other analysis.’

  ‘I think it would drive me nuts. Having problems that just don’t have a solution you can look at and say, “Yes, that’s the answer.”’

  ‘You’re saying that you always know what’s causing problems with a patient?’ Dione asked.

  ‘Oh… Well, no, I guess not. Diagnosis can be really difficult in some cases. Hey, that’s the whole plot in that House programme, right?’

  ‘Yes, but that’s a TV programme so there’s always a solution.’

  ‘True. I suppose… Well, I’ve never had a case I couldn’t solve so far. I won’t know how I react to it until it happens.’

  ‘I think you’ll cope,’ Dione said. ‘Intelligent people usually realise that some things are always going to be impossible to explain. When it happens, you’ll understand that and come to terms.’

  ‘Well, I sure hope so. Hey, are there vampires in there?’

  Dione flicked forward through the book. ‘Here we are. Slavic vampires tended to be related to the disease mythotype. So he’s not a very nice-looking creature.’