“Probably hundreds, if we want to be conservative with an estimate. We have to be honest here. We knew AWFA had been operating at a high level. We have to assume they’ve been recruiting cops, paramedics, firemen, and others in the know, and right from the beginning. This gives them a wide net to cast when looking for sympathetic ears.”
My stomach churned when I thought about how many cops knew I was a shifter. How many of them hated me for it and stayed quiet, pretending it didn’t matter, and all just to get close to me.
Easy there, Miss Paranoia. I knew I couldn’t afford to think that way, so, instead, I chose to focus on Danvers. He was the one asshole I could actually do something about.
“I need to go in there and find out who his contacts are.” I started for the door and Quinn followed.
I put a hand out and stopped him. “Q, after your parting barb there’s no doubt he knows how you really feel. So I’m pretty sure he won’t talk to you, and he may not even talk at all if you’re in the room.”
“You think he’s going to tell you?”
“Well, so far as I know, Danvers has no clue I’m a shifter. I just go in and apologize to him for your behavior. I’ll try to go from there.”
“And your eyes?”
“When I feel myself getting too angry I’ll turn and face the cinderblock wall. That way he can’t see them. I’ll do my best to control them either way.”
“Be careful, Sam. If we have to cut him loose and he knows you’re a shifter, he could feed your name to AWFA.”
“Oh, come on. They already know who I am; they probably have copies of the FBI’s files on me. Hell, they probably even know what color underwear I currently have on. I need Danvers to cough up info and I’ll do my best to conceal the fact I’m a super, but I have to go in there.”
“Just watch your six, okay?”
“That’s your job, pard.” I grinned, winked, and entered the room with an apologetic smile, leaving Quinn behind in the observation room to fret.
“Agent Danvers, I am so sorry for my colleague and his rude comments. He doesn’t understand the situation as well as I do, if you know what I mean.” I fought the urge to say, Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, in a poor impression of Eric Idle.
“I do. I am so glad you’re more sympathetic to the cause than your partner.” Danvers settled back in his chair, calming slightly.
“You have no idea how much I feel for your cause.” I was able to use genuine emotion here to sell it.
“Are you an AWFA member, too?” he whispered.
“No, what’s AWFA?” I played dumb.
“Well, you obviously aren’t a fan of those creatures that are out there hiding behind human faces.”
“Obviously.” I gave myself the okay to eat a pint of Ben and Jerry’s later as a well-deserved reward for not rolling my eyes at him.
“AWFA is a society created to help stop supernatural beings from taking over the world.”
“Is that what you think they want to do?”
“Some of them. Some just want to sit back and feast on humanity.” He leaned forward and looked at me intently. “They will if we let ’em, ya know. We’ll become nothing more than food, our communities nothing more’n supernatural smorgasbords.”
“Wow.” The more his speciesism stirred, the more his speech reverted to show his redneck background.
By the way, this is the sort of ridiculous shit I constantly have to contend with in my life; how about you? Anybody ever accuse you of using humanity as an all-you-can-eat buffet? I tell y’all, this shit just chaps my ass.
“Yes’m. They’re monsters, all of them. Americans for a Were-Free America wants to make sure that our country remains in human hands so that we don’t become food for their hellish hunger.”
Looking slightly worried, I leaned in. “That sounds terrifying.”
It sure did. It also sounded completely ignorant, which fit with Danvers’ personality.
“It is. Would you be interested in joining us?”
I had to turn away, certain my eyes would relay my dueling amusement and outrage at the notion. “Tell me a little more about it. Did they help you get rid of those things they’re accusing you of selling into slavery?” I used my disgust with Danvers and acted as though it were for the shifters.
I think I sold it.
“Absolutely, we have many people in high positions within the government just watching out for our affairs.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” I rolled my eyes before turning back to face him.
“Yes. We are safe because these heroes won’t sleep until all those evil demons are smote!”
“That is so noble of you, Jeremy. I mean what a … cause to take up your sword for.” I might just have earned myself some hot fudge on top of that ice cream. Fuck, yeah!
I’m told I have a potty mouth. I mostly shrug it off with honesty doesn’t always come with a good filter.
“Someone needs to help the humans and make sure we, as a species, survive.”
“I agree.” Mostly because idiots like him (the ones who get way too extreme in their beliefs) are a huge threat to humanity and its future.
“Do you?” He had his arms crossed.
“I do. Humans need to not be turned into food. We are supposed to be at the top of the food chain.”
“Yes. That’s exactly what we believe.” He looked wary, but hopeful.
“You guys probably think they should register and that we should know who they are?”
“Yes! I mean that will help us out so much if we know where these creeps are. It’ll save us so much time in the future, too, when we have to round them up for questioning.” He showed that same sense of relief he did before Quinn had smacked him in the nose with reality.
“I understand.” I did.
Understanding these extremists might be part of the job, but it never fails to make me feel sick.
“I mean, I was thinking they should all be exterminated, but maybe that’s a little extreme.”
Uh, yeah, ya think? Fucking psychopath.
“Maybe.” I turned away from him so I could fully roll my eyes and get all my frustration and incredulity out before looking back at him.
“So, do you think you’ll join us?”
“I’m not sure just yet. Oh, hold on, I’m getting a text.” I looked down at the cellphone in my hand, it had no messages, but still, I pretended to read. “I have to go. I need to meet with the lady from evidence. Thanks for talking with me, Jeremy.”
“Oh, anytime. I just want to make America the best it can be. And in order to do that, we have to get rid of the freaks.”
“I know what you mean. If you give me some contact info for the folks you’re connected with, I’ll make sure they know what’s going on here.” I smiled at him. “Hang in there. I’ll try and figure something out.”
“Thanks, Sam. I knew you weren’t the usual dumb badge bunny.” Danvers seemed to think I’d see that as a compliment.
He was wrong. Badge bunny was a term used for women who slept around the force. Some of the groupies were LEOs and some were civilians. It was a condescending and misogynistic term I didn’t much like.
Being a woman in law enforcement can be tough as hell. The suspects don’t want to be taken down by a woman, so most of the men tend to fight me. My fellow LEOs are usually pretty cool, but occasionally an asshole like Danvers emerges.
I watched as he scribbled out some names and phone numbers and handed it to me. When I reached out to take it he stroked my wrist and hand. I mentally allowed the addition of caramel sauce to my future sundae for not pulling away or vomiting on his sweaty, stubby doll hands.
It was like he was trying to see how much more disgusting he could be. Every single time I thought he had me, he’d jump a level on the grossometer.
“Goodbye, Jeremy.” I left the room and tried my best not to gag as I handed the paper to Quinn.
“Here.”
“Good job, Sammy! I’m going to run these down;
you call Alex and let him know what’s going on.”
“Yeah. Sure. I….” Not waiting for me to answer, Quinn just took off running with the list in hand. “And he’s gone.”
I dug in my pocket, pulled out my cell, and dialed Al’s number. His voicemail picked up so I left a message. “Hey, we brought in Danvers. He’s spilled some. Call me when you get this.” I contemplated running down to the bunkie, but if Al had fallen asleep, I wanted to let him get some rest.
I went down the hall and told the agent in charge to take Danvers to a holding cell. No need to leave him in interrogation.
Then I left to track down Quinn and wash my hands. Not necessarily in that order.
Chapter 6
I FOUND QUINN leaving Gerry’s office and, after deciding it was time for lunch, we went to a pub not too far away from the office.
We hadn’t been seated long when the TVs around the bar flared to life and a number of us looked up. A tall black woman stood on the steps of Capitol Hill. The camera zoomed in on her and the bar around me fell silent as she began to speak.
“My name is Maria Shermann. I have lived in this city my entire life. That life has been full of service to our community and those that need help. I’ve donated tens of thousands of dollars to local charities, spent countless hours working at soup kitchens and homeless shelters, and worked on preparedness plans for my city, right down to the individual buildings. I do this to keep us all safe.” A round of applause broke out when she paused to breathe.
“Now that you know who I am, I feel it is only fair you know what I am. There’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just going to come right out and tell y’all. I’m a vampire.” Murmurs rose up around her.
Shouts of “Crazy bitch” and “What a kook” and “I’ve got something you can suck the blood out of” rang throughout the crowd.
“I inherited the vampire gene from my family. I need fresh blood to survive because my bone marrow doesn’t make red cells anymore. I’m here today with my doctor and a family friend to tell you guys that vampires exist and we are not the evil demons or sparkling goofs we’ve been portrayed as. Quite the contrary. We are people just like you. We happen to have a disease similar to diabetes or porphyria.”
“Excuse me, ladies and gentleman, Doctor Noah J. Hawthorne here. Many of you know me; I work a lot within this community. I can attest that what Miss Shermann is saying is true. Vampirism is a real and recognized genetic disease, which means it’s non-transmittable. And though it’s incurable, it is quite treatable; she simply needs blood transfusions once a week in order to survive.”
“Holy fuck.” I gaped at the TV, disbelief dropping my jaw.
“What?” Quinn looked around, confused.
“Vampires just came out from under the bed. Hold on, I have to make some phone calls.”
“Wow. That’s huge. Take your time and when the waitress comes I’ll order for us; you want your usual?”
“Yeah, thanks.” Whenever we came here I ordered the chicken strips and fries with a Pepsi. This bar had the best I’d ever eaten, the best anyone could want. Quinn always ordered the bacon cheeseburger. It, too, was spectacular.
What I really wanted, however, was to know why the hell Wilhelm Von Karolinas wasn’t up there? He’s the leader of the vampire council; surely, he should have been present for the vampires’ first foray into the bright light of day. I stood and walked over to the area between the restrooms and the defunct and receiverless payphone.
It was the quietest spot in the whole bar. I took out my cellphone and called Gerry who confirmed that the vamps coming out was legit. My next call was to my buddy, Bob. He was a zombie, but he had his finger on the pulse of the vampire community, so to speak. It went to voicemail.
“Bob, call me when you get this. The vamps have come out from under the bed or rose from the coffin or however the hell you want to phrase it. Did you or Griff know about this?”
Griffin Martin was the owner of a bar that catered to supernatural beings like myself, and he was even better connected than Bob. He was also an expath who could make people feel whatever emotions he wanted.
I called him, but his line was busy. So–after some grumbling about nobody being around when you need them—I dialed my pal, Grace Fujishima.
She was a vampire friend of mine who also ran the Evidence Recovery Team at the FBI. She wasn’t as into the vampire council end of things as she used to be, which is why I hadn’t called her first. To say she wasn’t a big fan of Von Karolinas would be an understatement. She actually said in public that while he wasn’t the worst leader the vamps had ever been stuck with, he sure as hell wasn’t the best.
“Hello?” Her voice sounded tired, as if I’d woken her.
Whoops, she must be on nights.
“Grace, I just watched a vampire named Marie Shermann come out on live TV.”
“Good for her, I hope she and her wife will be very happy to— Wait, did you say a vamp came out on TV?” Her voice now sounded far more awake.
“Yeah, she just told the world about vampires, even had a doctor to back her. I’m going to go out on a limb here and say you didn’t know anything about this.”
“Good limb. I got an email that was some sort of statement by Wilhelm, but it didn’t indicate they were telling the world about us.” Grace sounded a little scared.
“Don’t worry, if you don’t want anyone to know, nobody has to,” I tried to reassure her.
“I wish it worked like that. You know humans; they’ll soon be betting on which people at work and in their neighborhoods are vampires. Doubtless, some politician will want a database of everyone with the vampire gene. If they find that gene, don’t you think they’d find the proteins the shifter virus leaves behind? Vamps coming out forces all supers into the light. Why would he do something so rash without calling a meeting? See, this is exactly why I don’t interfere in Von Karolinas’ business. Asshole! Him, not you.”
“Oh, I can be an asshole, too. I just save it for people I don’t like.” I grinned.
“Somehow I don’t doubt that.” I could hear the smile in her voice and I heard her TV click on. “Jesus on the mountain, you weren’t messing with me.” Grace was a Christian.
“I would never mess with you like that. Short sheeting, Vaseline on the toilet seat, sure, but no messing with vampire status, honest.”
“I know; I was just hoping.” She let out a shaky sigh. “I’m going to call Wilhelm and find out what the fuck is going on. You be very careful. With this brought to light, AWFA is going to be standing on more solid ground and looking less like a fringe nutter group.”
“Careful is my middle name.”
“Not Danger?”
“No, I’m Samantha Careful Reece. Sure, it’s not quite as cool, but people seem to be more okay with me handling their breakables.”
Grace chuckled. Her laugh could always cheer me up.
“I’ll give you a call when I know more. Hey, would you go public, Sam?”
“I sort of already have. I mean, my coworkers and friends already know. I think if shifters choose to come forward I might go more public than I am currently. Right now, though, I’m staying quiet and watching how it affects you guys. I think we all will be for the first few years.”
“Be careful.” There was a warning note to her tone I’d never heard before.
If I didn’t know her better, I’d say she was more terrified than worried about the humans and their reaction to vamps. Truthfully, I was, too. I’ve seen what horrible things happen when people throughout history get too scared of something. Mass graves filled to the brim with the bodies of horrifically tortured people being one of the worst.
In the last four hundred years, the public has had some time to domesticate us in literature and on screen. It was my hope that the celluloid idea of a kinder, gentler werebeast would make us seem more nifty and less terrifying.
For the vamps, coming out to humans with vampirism being a genetic disease might buy the
m some leeway that we shifters wouldn’t get. Even though our affliction was created by a virus, it still did supernatural things to us. The vamps having hyperspeed and strength after a blood doping session were explained by Shermann’s doctor as just that, the simple effects of blood doping.
They were playing it off as any other medical condition. No matter what happened, this was one of the most momentous occasions of my generation; it ranked right up there with the Berlin Wall coming down.
I had to admit I liked the way they handled it. By classifying it as a genetic disease, which it is, they make vampires seem far less Bram Stoker’s Dracula and more like Travolta’s Bubble Boy. I hope that if weres come out we don’t stick with the virus angle because I think that would only make more people afraid of us.
Virulent is not a word the average person finds comforting. By calling it genetic, vampires had created a fence of sorts around themselves. Non-transmittable is far more comforting a word than virulent. It’s one that even the least intelligent of people could understand.
As much as I hated it, I just had to wait and see, like everyone else.
I walked back to my table and listened as the bar erupted in talk.
“I think it’s awesome.” Judging from the woman’s clothes and state of inebriation, she would probably think a jar full of feces spinning on a lazy Susan was awesome.
“I told you there were demons in the world.” The man grabbed his bible and held it tight as he slung back another shot of whiskey.
His companion, a hooker by the looks of her, said, “They’s jus’ sick. It ain’t the same thing’s being evil.”
“They are beyond evil.”
“But God maded them, too,” she slurred.
“If it isn’t something I can catch, then I feel sorry for those that got it, but I’m glad I don’t.” A young college-aged man and his friends were discussing it the most rationally. Their views made me feel a little more comfortable with the vamps’ decision.
“I hope they don’t make a big thing and make them register or anything. That’d be so wack.”
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