“What demographic?”
“Millennials,” I answer, flatly. “You and me. The psychology behind drug use is something that demands a fine-tooth examination, according to my superiors. No one picks up a needle filled with heroin one day and is like, “boy, I just can’t wait to inject death in my arm.” No. It goes deeper than that. My guess, I think it all goes back to the climate that we live in today, at least in some cases. Anything to numb the pain, am I right?”
“Aye, man. Weed isn’t a drug. The only reason it was illegal back in the day was to lock us up. Now motherfuckers are rotting in prison while other folks are starting to sell it everywhere. And they’re getting rich, too. Imagine seeing that on the wrong side of a jail cell. It ain’t right.” Darren leans back in his chair, his hands now to his sides. I feel for him, but I have a job to do.
“I get what you’re saying, it’s wrong. Unfair even, but that’s not what I’m getting at. Kaitlyn did more than just weed. We both know this. From the autopsy, we found traces of ecstasy and other party drugs, too.”
“Okay, and? What’s your point?”
“What did you think pushed her to use? Was she depressed or anything like that? Was she in a high-stress situation? Work, maybe?”
“Nah. Nothing like that. She was always smiling and full of energy… Always willing to help out and lend a hand. Drugs don’t make you a bad person, if that’s what you’re getting at. People drink all of the time and no one says a thing.”
“I understand, and I agree. I’m just trying to get a complete picture, okay? So, how long would you say that you’ve known her?”
“Two…three years. Two and a half.”
“Okay, and in this time, Kaitlyn didn’t show any signs of duress?”
“No. Not really. I mean, people go through stuff. It’s life.”
“But she wasn’t depressed or anything, right?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m saying.”
“So, what do you think caused her to use?”
“She wanted to have fun, man. Not everything is deep.”
“I agree with you, but for Kaitlyn to take her life, something had to have hit home…so, are you sure there were no outside stressors?” Darren glares at me from the other side of the table, his mouth completely shut. “I’m just trying to help.”
“She…she had just lost her job like a month ago. So, I guess she was starting to feel the pressure, know what I mean? Bills. Loans. Living. All that shit. She never asked for any spare change or for me to front her anything, but I did it anyway because we’re cool and she’s a good girl. We all gotta live, she just got handed a bad hand.”
Darren didn’t tell me this, but from what I gathered Kaitlyn and her parents had some deep-seated issues. Her father wasn’t the nicest guy and she suffered because of that. Her mother took it the wrong way and sided with him over her child. Eventually, they divorced. By the time they did, Kaitlyn had scrounged up enough money to leave town and move to Tennessee. She also ended up enrolling in college here. I think she made it about two or so years in before calling it quits. After she flunked out, she had no plans of moving back home, so she licked her wounds and carried on. Her and her mother weren’t on speaking terms, really. From what I could tell, whenever they did interact, she’d rant about it online for a moment and get on with her life. In her eyes, it was for the better. I can’t say that she was wrong. When a loved one hurts you, it cuts deep, and honestly, some of those wounds never really heal. Everyone has their way of coping. Kaitlyn’s just so happened to be drugs.
“So, by any chance, did you guys use the same stuff? Like, share?”
“On occasion, when we were hanging out and stuff, but usually, she had her own and I had mine. I mean, there were other folks she hung with, too. I wasn’t her man or anything. She did what she wanted, when she wanted.”
“Same dealer?”
“Nah,” he answers succinctly. “But he was someone she could trust.”
“You said she was stressed, but she was happy overall. Is there a chance she had a bad trip or came down too hard? Maybe a bad batch? We found heroin and cocaine in her system. Those drugs have a ten—”
Darren raises his hand up towards me with an open palm, almost like he’s telling me he can’t stand to hear what I’m about to say. “…I know what they can do. Ecstasy is one thing, but I told her to stay away from that other stuff. I knew a guy who got on black tar and was never the same,” he says, reflecting. His gaze drifts slightly downward. He’s caught up in his thoughts and I don’t intend on exploring them with him. “I told Kaitlyn not to mess with that shit. I didn’t know about the heroin, but the coke, yeah, that was a bit too far. She had met this guy one night. Well, we, had met this guy. He was chilling outside of The Vermillion, a bar downtown. Him and his goth-ass girlfriend. The dude was on his goth shit, too. Like, really on it. They dressed like rockstars, man. The disturbed kind. I was high as hell, but they were giving me bad vibes. We used to go to a club called Writhe, so seeing weird people isn’t something new. People do what they do. Nothing wrong with them, just not my scene. Too weird for me, you feel me? I put up with it for her.” He raises his hands in defense. “Anyway, yeah. Those two just gave off some kind of attitude…I don’t know…persona, or something. Like, I knew they wouldn’t pose a threat or whatever, but they were definitely ’bout that life. They weren’t posing. They probably had a skull on an altar in their basement or some shit.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The people we were with thought they were cool though, but I stuck around just to make sure everyone was good. Got to go with your gut, know what I mean?”
“Right.”
“But yeah, like I said, they turned out to be cool people. We ended up bar hopping. Our group started fading out one by one, so we went to this one spot towards the end of the night and danced until they closed. I mean, like, I didn’t dance, but Kaitlyn and the goth chick did.”
“You didn’t get their names?” I ask, pressing the conversation as calmly as I can.
“No. They weren’t really my crowd. I’m sure they gave them to me, but I forgot. Kate said something I’m sure, but I delete my texts after I get them. Clogs up my phone.”
Of course. And leaves evidence.
“Yeah, but I know she took coke with that chick that night. I kept an eye on her the whole night. The dude was chill. Talked a bit about girls. Random stuff. Had to do something while they danced.” Darren shrugs apathetically.
“So that’s when she tried cocaine? When was this?”
“Like, about a month ago.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah, she hung out with them a few more times. And then, yeah, radio silence. Like, she’d update a status or whatever every blue moon. Normal stuff, but then, bam. Next thing you know, you find out she’s dead. Do you know how crazy that is? To find out your best friend died like that?”
“Yeah. I do.” It was a rhetorical question, but I answered anyway, for my own sake.
“I thought she was just laying low, trying to get her mind right or whatever, but she freaking died, man. Out there in the woods, rotting, with a bullet hole through her skull. I found out just like everyone else. Online. After I got the news, I thought about reaching out to her people or something, to let them know, but I think they got the message. Word spreads quick on the web. I don’t know what’s going on with the funeral. I know her folks didn’t have much, so like, I was thinking maybe we should start a drive or something. I don’t know, man. It’s rough.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You have my condolences. Sudden losses hit everyone hard.”
“I’m just trying to be a good friend for her, you know?”
“Yeah. I get it…nothing wrong with trying to do the right thing,” I say before adjusting my position in my seat. “Darren, by any chance, do you have photos of the two people she started hanging out with?”
“Nah. They didn’t do pictures. Tried to add them online but they gave a whole spe
ech about how people don’t know how to connect anymore. They swore that technology was making us unauthentic,” he says as he makes air quotes.
“Okay, but you saw them at the Vermillion, right?”
“Right. They were outside. Just leaving. They liked to go to another club. I know they took Kaitlyn there a couple of times. Real wild spot.”
“And what was that one called?”
“Null. It’s a trippy venue. Dark vibes all around. Some of the cats around there are into the whole leather thing. It’s like, an underground techno club. Crowded, but not crowded at the same time. Depends on the night. You looking to do a drug bust or something?”
“You’re a bold one, Darren, you know that?” I chuckle as I sink back into my seat.
“Got to be if I’m having a one on one conversation with a narc.”
“Fair point, but as much as I’d love to, no. All of this is for research. I have orders not to arrest them for information they disclose. I may want to talk to some of the people over there, but that’s it. No arrests. Just looking for information.”
“You mean leverage,” Darren responds flatly.
“I make a mental note of things, yes, but I act under my own discretion,” I calmly retort. “But, like I said, I’m only here for research. Not meddling.”
“Cool.” He nods. “I don’t know if you’ll be able to find that couple out of all the people that are there, but if they show up to the funeral, I’ll hit you up.”
“I appreciate it, Darren. Thanks.” I get up from my seat and make my way to the door, Darren trailing behind me. Once we get there, I pause and he opens it for me; the hospitable thing to do.
“If you need anything else, man. Let me know.”
“Sure thing, I plan on it,” I say as I adjust my outfit. “But in case I don’t see you again…I know it’s not my place, but if you really want to do right by your friend, drop the drugs. Get away from all of that stuff, man. You have a ton of potential. I’m not even kidding. Don’t smoke it all away. We’re in the same ballpark, age-wise, and I wasn’t born with a silver spoon. My family wasn’t connected, and they didn’t have the best resources. Hell, they aren’t even alive right now. None of them… But I worked my ass off and made something out of myself, despite all of that. Picked up the pieces and came out on the other side, know what I mean?” I tap him on the side of his shoulder. “Life isn’t fair. Don’t make things worse and shoot yourself in the foot. The lifestyle you and some of your friends are involved in doesn’t end well. It’s a steady progression into the ground. I’ve seen some things, and I’m sure you have, too. No need to exchange war stories, but the main point is, you’re at a crossroad. If Kaitlyn meant a lot to you, learn from this. She’d appreciate that. She went before her time, but there’s a lesson in this. Don’t let it go unnoticed.” I extend my hand out to Darren and he grabs a hold of it and gives it a firm shake.
“Thanks, man.”
“That’s Agent Rivers, to you,” I say with a smile. “I’ll be in touch. Take care.”
“Yes, sir.”
I step out through the door and he shuts it behind me. The moment it closes, my expression changes and I drop the act. What I said in there was true; taking hardcore drugs isn’t going to make his life easier by any means, but I don’t have all of the answers. I have things I’m dealing with, too. But what I do know is that the predatorial creatures that populate the supernatural look for vulnerable people.
Vulnerable can translate into a variety of things, but the rule of thumb is that they go for those they can overtake with little to no resistance. The status of the person can also be a factor. Not so much financial, but in relation to other people. Vampires have been known to stalk individuals for that very reason. Will the victim be missed if they get taken for whatever they’re purposed for? That’s the ultimate question. It’s risk analysis.
With vamps operating exclusively at night, there’s only so much they can do when it comes to looking for prey. Embracing the nightlife—our version of it—allows them to work in plain sight. It’s more of a slow-burn, usually. They warm up the individual and capture them after some time if they’re looking to farm human blood. If they’re looking to grow their numbers, it’s a bit different, but they can use the same scouting methods. Or simply turn someone on a whim and force them into a life of servitude. It’s twisted either way, but at least now I know my next move.
Once I get into my car, I plot a course for my temporary residence; the crappy motel I’m working this case from. There are at least three spots I need to evaluate. Writhe, The Vermillion, and Null.
I really hate vampires, but I guess the opportunity to kill a few is a good consolation for another all-nighter.
Chapter 7: Hunting Season
As far as I’m concerned, vampires are only slightly below demons on my internal scale of malevolence, and that says a lot.
They’re cunning, manipulative, and downright creepy. A common trait that wolves and vamps have that I absolutely hate is how they can essentially hold your life in their hands with just a brief encounter. With both of them, a bite is all it takes to change everything you ever knew. However, unlike wolves, vampires are more social. In fact, it’s part of the mythos that they’re highly sociable and often times tied to the upper echelon of society in one form or another. It’s not exactly false, either.
Vampires have the potential to live for a very long time. The older ones, without a doubt, have had the time to accumulate resources to have pull with certain people groups. As they grew their vampire families, their wealth, in a way, made the richer ones untouchable. Not so much in a way that hunters didn’t know how to approach them, but rather they didn’t know where to look. The more established vamps tend to not meddle in common affairs. They have their blood, they have their money, and they do whatever they want for entertainment. It’s one big party every night until the sun comes up.
Inside the vampire hierarchy, it’s the lower classes that are running the streets trying to hustle blood by any means necessary. The higher they climb, the more privilege they have when it comes to that sort of thing. The big players don’t run around smuggling blood or abducting victims. Their underlings do it. You don’t really see the big guys at all. At least, not the smart ones, hence my issues with finding Darius, the vampire who has what I need. The bracelet. And even if I find him, I’m going to eventually have to kill him, which I’m sure isn’t going to be an easy feat.
Vampires are stronger and faster than normal human beings. They also have the ability to regenerate when injured. My weapons can hurt them, but the only way to make sure they’re dead is to cut their head off. You really can’t come back from that. It’s the brain you’re looking to target, really. If you damage it enough or sever it from the body, it can’t relay information, stopping the regeneration effect. Going for the head first thing is the preferred method, but it can be difficult to execute. Vampires can feel pain. Some may act tough, and tolerances differ, but they feel just like we do, if not more, due to their enhanced senses. You can slow them down by other means if you have to. Sometimes going for an escape is the better option if you’re outmatched or outnumbered. It’s all about being one step ahead of them. They love to plan. You can easily be in a situation where you think you’re winning, but you find out at the worst possible moment that it was all a bait. Unlike werewolves, vamps tend to play with their food. They’re outright sadistic, but the more established ones tend to have a superiority complex. There’s a certain draw when it comes to manipulating their prey that they get off on. Humans partaking in their own destruction is apparently all the rage in their inner circles.
I pull up to my motel not long after hitting the road. The unforgiving smell of mothballs and stale air floods my nostrils when I open the door to my room. I catch another whiff once I sit down in the chair in front of my desk. Disgusting.
I open my laptop and stare at the remnants of my prior work, balancing the thoughts I had on the way here. Inves
tigating at this time of day has its perks. The sun is your friend whenever vampires are involved. They can’t stand it. It’s like acid to them, which is great because it hinders their threat level before the sun goes down. Vamps don’t necessarily sleep all day, but it is during the daytime that they rest. If they’re awake, they’re in hiding, away from the sun. It’s hard to realize how easy it is to get burnt unless you’ve seen it happen firsthand. Just a lick of sunlight puts them in agony, and that’s a huge plus when it comes to defending yourself against these things.
Kaitlyn died in a forest on the edge of town, courtesy of the vamps. I thought about doing some digging in the area, but the idea was squandered relatively quickly. If she was executed, which she was, the vamps wouldn’t leave her body to be found anywhere near the site that they keep their prisoners. It would be a conflict of interest. It doesn’t make sense to have attention drawn to the same spot they operate from. In a similar case I solved, the body was found in a different city, altogether.
That could mean one of two things. The vamps are mobile or they have multiple establishments. Honestly, it’s both of those things. As long as it’s night, they can do whatever they please through modern means. Dumping a body in a neighboring city isn’t too farfetched, especially when you have the night itself covering your tracks. Whatever their methods, I’ll be sure to find out what I can so that this doesn’t happen again. Part of me wants to drop in on the three venues that Darren helped me solidify as places of interest, but I’ve been fighting the urge. Maybe if I had a partner with me and some concrete evidence, sure, but going in gun’s blazing, figuratively speaking, would just bring attention to my cover. At the very least, vampires are in the vicinity, their human allies as well. Showing up as an agent in the day and as a citizen at night wouldn’t do me any favors if they have plants in any of the establishments. Hell, even if I didn’t make a second appearance, just the fact that the feds are snooping around in supernatural affairs would be enough for them to lay low for a couple of days. Still, I know there’s a connection, just not how deep it runs. If I could take out who needs to be taken out before nightfall, it’d make my life a lot easier.
Blaze Monroe and the Tattered Heart: A Supernatural Thriller (The Hunter Who Lost His Way Book 3) Page 5