At least cop Troy wasn’t that wealthy. He could have actually bought the restaurant, and the rest of the business in the area, with money left over. Which was a problem, he knew.
Great wealth was a curse, not a gift. The poor wanted it, but having it almost always ruined real people. The ones it didn’t… Well, the truth was that it actually did. Unless they didn't care about it at all. Those kinds of people tended to end up giving it all away. It was a thing that he’d learned a long, long time before.
The trick, of course, was that they hadn’t really made plans for how to meet. He parked his beaten up used car out front, not even bothering to feel bad about it. Sure, a sports car would look better, if his goal was to get his date directly into bed. Something red and powerful, that showed he was wealthy enough to waste it on things like that.
What he had was smallish, blue and white and had seen better days.
It also worked with the cover identity he had going as a regular vampire. One that worked for a living and who didn’t simply go off to other worlds. So he stood there, in front of the place for a bit, wondering if he was supposed to go inside. Then, after ten minutes of feeling a bit foolish, he did exactly that.
The hostess smiled at him, her face pretty, in a young way. If she was sixteen, then he was a thousand. That thought got him to pause. He wasn’t really certain if he was or not, after all. The girl was too young for him, regardless. It wouldn’t have been a big deal, except that she was searching his face like women did when they were interested in a guy.
“Table for one, or are you meeting someone?” The words came out professionally, even if she was still being a bit too attentive with her gaze.
“I should be meeting someone. Um, Heidi Valenti. I’m Troy Lopez? She’s about five-six, blonde… Blue eyes.” He thought that last one was right. They’d been light at least. Most people called that blue and never thought twice about it.
The brown-haired girl in front of him, who had a nice tan, shook her head.
“Not yet. Would you like a table? We have one that you can see the door from.”
“Sounds great. Thanks.”
“This way. I can get you some menus. Something to drink, too?”
He nearly asked for some water, since he could sip that and not feel sick from it. Or in pain, which was what would happen if he ate anything except blood. Especially if it had carbs. He’d never tried it, but some vampires claimed that they could eat a bit of meat and suck on things like lard or butter all day long. It didn’t do anything for them, but didn’t hurt, either.
“I’m good. Unless you have blood on the menu?”
Instead of screaming and jumping away, making the sign of the cross, she just shook her head.
“We don’t. I don’t know… Is there anything else that works for that?”
There was, but telling her that slurping down some man seed could also form a link that would work for him wasn’t taking place that day.
“Not really. Maybe a glass of water?” He could play with it, if nothing else.
After being sat, in a chair that, as advertised, allowed him to see the front door and had the added benefit of showing him most of the room, Katie the teen hostess brought him two glasses of water. She seemed to be busy after that, but did look over at him often enough to get that no one was coming over the course of an hour.
Sighing, he got his phone out.
It took a moment to find the return number from his called list, but when he hit it, there was no answer.
Actually, the mechanical sounding voice told him that the number was no longer in service. That got him to go still for a moment, then stand up instantly.
“That’s a bit extreme, just to get out of a date that you asked for in the first place.” In truth, no one would have bothered. Even calling up to tell him that an old boyfriend was in town would be enough for him.
At the door, he screwed his face up, trying to seem wry.
“Well, stood up, it seems. I’d love to claim it was the first time that’s ever happened, but it’s more like the fifth. You know how it goes.” Probably not, he knew. The kid was pretty enough that kind of thing wasn’t going to be a huge part of her early life. Not until she had two kids and was trying to date as a thirty-three-year-old single mother. Then it would get a lot more brutal for her. More like what young men faced all the time.
“That’s rotten. Um, sorry.” She didn’t try to ask him out, though it was kind of clear she was tempted. Enough that, had she been about five years older, Troy might have gotten her number. Instead he smiled, shrugged and left rapidly enough that it probably seemed a little bit odd. After all, something was going on.
What that was, he didn't know. He drove the speed limit, but took several unusual short cuts that he normally wouldn’t have bothered with. That would, he figured, get him back in time so that anyone breaking into his place would be met with a rather annoyed him, instead of searching his non-existent files or underwear drawer.
When he got back to the parking lot, he bailed from the car and ran, using the best speed he could manage without screaming when he stopped. Instead of black clad men, what he found was familiar and a bit macabre.
“Seriously, my own personal chicken circle? That’s thoughtful.”
No one had ever gotten him chickens before.
The pattern was the same as at Darla’s, though the handprint wasn’t on his parking space. That had been clear as he pulled up. No, it was about the same distance to the left of his front door. Other than that, the whole thing was the same. The chickens were all hens again. He could smell that. Even the feathers that had been pulled out in places, seeming random before, were almost identical. There was no hint of power however, though it was clearly a ritual being done.
Rather than whine about it, he pulled his phone and tapped it until the right number came up. He should have called Tran, but the lady needed her rest for the time being. That was a real enough reason to get her fixed up, if he could. So that he could keep her up at all hours working, without risking her health too much. Instead he dialed the station. It needed to be reported, after all.
Mainly to him, but there were procedures.
“Police, front desk. What may I do for you today.”
“Miller? Troy Lopez here. I was out and just came home to find that someone had thoughtfully left me six dead chickens on my front step. It’s clearly a magical ritual set up, or meant to look like one. I’m the one who would be out to research this, but it’s a bit close to home for that, so I wanted to make it official.”
“I can get that. Let me send a car by. About ten minutes, unless you think something spooky is going on? Then we can send out the vampire we have on staff. A real asshole, but you know, good with this kind of freaky stuff, I hear.” The man on the phone was older, but not above being a bit of a jerk to the new guy for a laugh. At least that was how he’d taken the fellow so far.
“Sounds good. We probably don’t need to get that dude involved yet. Vampires give me the creeps, half the time.” Which was true. He knew a lot of nice ones, but that wasn’t really the norm. Even the decent ones tended to be a bit odd, in their own way.
“No doubt, right? We should have someone around in a bit. Hang tight. Backup is coming.” The sound of the man’s voice wasn’t even teasing at the end. Probably because no one wanted to have dead animals strewn around on their doorstep.
Making too big of a deal about it being funny with the vampire would be asking for roadkill to show up on their stoop, to some people. Not that Troy was into that kind of thing. No one would know that though, really. If you heard that people liked to drink blood, it was easy to imagine that they might be into lots of warped things.
He used to think that way, before he died. Sometimes it was even true with the undead that he’d met, before and since he’d become one himself. A lot of them weren’t exactly well balanced in the marble palace. Regardless, he got to stand there, dressed up for a date, watching blood dry for te
n minutes. The city wasn’t that large, but the force wasn’t either, really. They had about one hundred and thirty police on the whole thing, which meant about a thirty-five out and about at any given time. For eighty thousand people that wasn’t a lot. Then again, the big crime cases there were minor drug charges and the occasional murder. It wasn’t a big city situation at all.
That meant, ten minutes later, he was able to wave at Santos when she walked up the stairs. She gave him a look that spoke of something like annoyance.
“Damn, you dress up for light harassment, too? Are you sure you aren’t gay? You’re a bit too fabulous for a cop, otherwise. Even at that, to be honest. I don’t get dolled up for things like this, I can tell you that.”
She looked at the dead birds and held up a camera.
“Sorry about the time I took. I had to sign this out. I was just leaving for the day when the call came in, so… I take it we need to get some pictures? This is a bit… Odd. Someone trying to collect gambling debts? That or drive the evil from our midst?”
He tilted his head.
“It could be that second one. The first… not so much. Gambling is for suckers, which I’m not one of. The other scene we had like this was… Another, um, supernatural person? I don’t want to out her, but it could be organized, given this. This isn’t magic, I don’t think. Normally I would have been home for this, but I was invited out for a date. Stood up, too. The number she gave me was disconnected as well, which looks a bit suspicious. Heidi Valenti? From the car wreck, yesterday.”
Santos stared at him a bit.
“I have the numbers for her. An address as well. I’ll check it out. Let me get the pics on this. Then you can change and clean this up. So sloppy, leaving your birds all over the place like this. It does look like a ritual. Do we need to spread the word, to, um, anyone in the area that might be different?”
That was a great question. Also, one that he didn’t really know how to address at the moment.
“I need to check some things out first. That might be a good plan. Thanks for coming out. Actually, I should do what you said. Change. I’m not ruining this suit over this.” He grinned a bit, letting his eyes go wide for comedic effect. “In case you’re wondering, standing me up is a bad plan. I mean, I’m a great conversationalist and really easy to get along with, you know what I mean? Plus, I was planning to pay for dinner. I don’t even eat, so how sweet is that, right?”
“No shit. I have this. Hurry though, since I’m not standing here for twenty minutes while you do your hair.”
The female officer started getting pictures then. Troy hurried enough, using a large chunk of his speed to be back before she was finished. That got her to look at him funny, though, he noticed, she didn't jump when he just appeared. There was no going for her side arm either.
“Damn… I bet you aced the four hundred at the academy, didn’t you?”
He looked at the mess, wondering if he could keep the blood off of his jeans. They weren’t his favorite pair, but they were unstained and fit well enough. His shoes were probably going to have to be washed. They were running gear though. His t-shirt was plain blue. Dark enough that no one would remark on that part.
“You know, don’t tell anyone, but I barely jogged that thing and still took the record. Part of the powers of my line is greater than normal speed.”
“Great. Well, you can carry me when we do the annual on that then. My fat butt can barely make it around the track in time anymore.”
Her behind wasn’t heavy at all. In fact, she looked hard. Fit for a cop. Like she worked out. It wasn’t cute looking on her, but he didn’t doubt she could make her times that way. It was probably compensation because she was so small.
“Speaking of which, I’m planning to collect up some friends and hitting the range in a few days. You in? You can bring your wife. She shoots, right?” It wasn’t a thing he knew at all, but there was a pause and a strange look.
“Yeah, she does. Let me ask her about it? I mean, hanging with a bunch of cops might not be her idea of a good time. You know what dicks we can be.”
That was true enough. He smiled.
“Well, we also have a picnic coming in a few weeks. A kind of… See, we’re all cool with the strange people kind of thing. Plan on going to that, if you aren’t working. Tell… Jainy, that I expect her even if you can’t make it. Then we’ll have four people.”
That got a laugh, and him waved at.
“I’ll let her know. Let me get back to you on the range work. I should do that. I normally get out once a year, right before the test on that. It isn’t enough. You?”
He shrugged.
“Two or three times a week. I’m making a hobby of it. Still, it won’t all be LEOs there. I’m inviting friends of mine from other places. It will be fun.”
That got a masturbation motion made at him, but he didn't take the bait, knowing that she wasn’t offering. Not that it would do anything for him, even if she was.
That got him to think about Heidi and what that probably meant, as the officer waved at him.
“I’m out of here now. You can probably pack this up.”
“Hey, can you get that hand print over there? There was one at the other scene too. We can… Well, match the size, I think. It looks about right. A woman or a small man. The scent here is… Different, actually. Men’s deodorant, but no perfume this time.”
The words had notes taken down, even if it had to feel silly going over what things smelled like. It was done though, without anything being said, which was nice.
“Got it. Okay, so pics. I send those to… You over in the Soup Division?” She didn’t blink at the use of the name.
Troy did.
“Wait… They aren’t calling us that, are they? Soup… Man… Well, I get it but…”
She nodded, her face not breaking into a smile at all.
“Oh, hell yeah. You aren’t getting rid of that one, either. We even have a little logo worked out. It’s a saltine diving into a steaming bowl. Adorable. Anyway, I’ll send this over before I get off shift. Which is… In about an hour. Later. I’ll mention what you said to Jainy.”
Waving, trying to seem like a normal guy, he waited for her to leave. Then, getting a bucket from inside and his cleaning gear, there was scrubbing to make happen. Also, five trips inside to get fresh water, since he could still smell the blood, even after the visible part of it was gone.
There was a difference in odor, between different types of red life liquid. Cow, for instance, smelled meatier than the bird did. Human, now that just smelled wonderful, he had to admit. It was filled with just the right amount of copper, iron and life to be interesting. The feeling was a bit like cake used to be for him.
Except that it was cake, looking and smelling fantastic, while you were starved on a level that was impossible to really imagine for a regular person. It was tempting to go and get some blood then, from the fridge. It wasn’t an eating day for him though, so he decided to pass on it. Even if it was harder than it felt like it should have been. That was the fresh blood there though. It was hard to ignore.
Just as he was about to go in for the last time, a bag of dead chickens needing to be taken to the dumpster, the door next to his opened. The face that popped out was female, and seemed to be in her mid-thirties. It was familiar, being Katherine, his neighbor. They’d never met, to talk to. Not that he didn’t know a lot about her. For instance, she was single, and upset about it. She also kind of hated men, as a rule. Not that she was a lesbian or anything. It was just that her last few relationships hadn’t worked for her. That made it easy for her to be a bit bitter.
On the good side, she didn’t take it out on people directly. It was more of an abstract thing in her world.
“What happened? I heard something earlier, then the police came… Um, so I hid inside, not wanting to be arrested for standing too close or whatever.” She didn't explain that, but he had the basic idea. Being where the cops were tended to end poorly, as
often as not.
“Six dead chickens on the doorstep. In a circle. It’s either some kind of magical thing or meant to look that way. A shame you didn't come look. I’d love to know who did it. Not that I blame you for not doing that. Getting involved is… Well, dangerous. In potential, anyway.”
The kind of people that would slaughter innocent birds could do anything, after all.
She made a face.
“That’s messed up! Why would anyone do that?” It was kind of clear that she didn’t know. At least her body language was saying to him.
“Well, you know, undead Americans aren’t welcome everywhere. Vampire, you know? Before you freak out, I have been for the whole time I’ve lived here. Other than being up all night, it can’t be that big of a deal, right?”
The point was trying to head off her meltdown over his being dead. Interestingly, she waved that away.
“I know. At least I’ve seen the bottles of animal blood in the trash when I poked through to find out about you. Rinsed and everything. Very tidy.” There was a slightly awkward grin then. She brushed at her slightly lank brown hair, the hint of wrinkles at the edge of her eyes.
He just nodded.
“That’s fair. I mean, these walls are paper, so I know pretty much everything you do. Trust me, I try to ignore it. I’m not here to invade your privacy.” Even the parts where she smoked pot and drank a bit too much on the weekends. The law didn’t really have provisions for police using vampire senses against people. Or rather, they did, saying it was all fair, even if it really wasn’t. That was based on what a normal person could do though. Smelling burning pot, or hearing someone calling out for help.
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