by Alves, Carl
He could tell Ursula was enjoying herself. Once upon a time, she had been a singer and dancer in Prague. Magnus first saw her when he and Gabriella went to the ballet. Magnus was moved by her pure beauty and graceful movements. He returned to the ballet repeatedly to see her dance. He knew the manager of the theater and arranged to meet Ursula. He discovered she had a radiant personality that matched her talent.
Magnus watched Ursula from afar. Occasionally he would approach her, and they would speak for hours. He took her out several times and bought her expensive Western clothes. They continued this relationship for a year. When Ursula expressed a romantic interest, he backed away. He couldn’t trust himself around her, and she might wind up dead.
He had not seen her for a couple of months. One night when they were strolling along the river, Gabriella asked, “Why don’t you see that dancer anymore? I know you’re fond of her.”
Magnus didn’t respond.
Gabriella tilted her head. “Don’t deny it. I know you far too well.”
He tried to evade her questions, but she had none of it.
Finally he said, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to spend time with her anymore.”
Gabriella would not relent. “You clearly care for the girl. Why don’t you make her one of us?”
Magnus refused to say anything further on the subject.
He wasn’t opposed to turning mortals into the undead, but rarely did it. Besides Gabriella, he had turned four others. Mostly, he didn’t think his kind should be abundant. If there were too many, their chances of discovery would increase. And his sense of morality made it difficult for him. Unlike Alexei, he never fully reconciled killing people. Even for him on occasion, it happened when feeding. It had always been a moral dilemma for him to balance the possibility that he would kill someone while satisfying his own needs and desire for blood.
Unbeknownst to him, Gabriella took it upon herself to visit Ursula one evening after a performance. She gave Ursula the same choice Magnus gave her hundreds of years ago. She returned a week later, and Ursula told her she wanted to become a creature of the night. Later that evening, Gabriella brought to their home outside of Prague a weakened Ursula, who she just turned. Magnus was delighted. She did for him what he would not do for himself.
Ursula was reluctant at first to go out and feed despite it being vital for her survival. She was still too human. As a result she became weakened and near death. For her sake, Magnus lured people into their cavernous mansion and killed them so Ursula could drink their blood. If they were already dead, then what difference would drinking their blood make?
Ursula became so weak and haggard in those early days, Magnus was concerned she would not live long. Convinced that she was reluctant to feed on her countrymen, he moved his brood. He didn’t like spending too much time in one area anyway. Eventually suspicions would arise after an increasing number of people went missing. Once they left Prague and moved to a beach area in southern Portugal, Ursula developed a taste for human blood.
Now Ursula lacked those old inhibitions and delighted in feasting on humans.
After strolling a few blocks, Magnus spotted two women who were older than the usual crowd. One looked to be in her mid-forties. She had bleached blonde hair and fake breasts. Magnus had yet to understand the cosmetic enhancements of this era. It was a disfigurement of people’s natural state. The other woman was a redhead who’d had too much to drink. Her face was flushed and her eyes blood-shot. Both wore skimpy outfits. From their looks, he suspected they would be willing victims.
He stopped walking as Ursula and Kristoff stayed close behind. He waited until the two women approached him.
“What lovely ladies I see here tonight,” Magnus said.
The two women giggled like schoolgirls.
“None more than you two.”
“Wow, aren’t you exotic looking,” the blonde said.
“Pretty cute, too,” said the brunette. “Do you have a name?”
“Magnus, my sweet.”
“That sounds so powerful. I’m Suzie. This is my friend Pam. We were walking by and I said to Pam, now that’s an interesting looking guy. I bet he has a great story to tell. So Pam said to me, let’s introduce ourselves.”
Pam smiled. “Now we normally aren’t so forward, but I said to Suzie, this guy looks big and strong and safe to be around.”
“So we just had to introduce ourselves,” Suzie said.
“You made a wise choice, ladies.”
“Magnus, what an interesting name,” Suzie said. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
“I originally hail from Norway, but the world is my home.”
“Ooh, I like that,” Pam said. “So who are your friends?”
“This is Kristoff and Ursula.”
Suzie said, “You guys are like a regular United Nations convention. So are you interested in showing two old gals a good time?”
They drove in Pam’s car to an Irish pub in Rittenhouse Square. As the night wore on, Magnus did his best to seduce the two older ladies. He told stories of his travels around the world. When he said the world was his home, he was not kidding. He had lived in every habitable continent.
He could sense the bloodlust inside Kristoff and Ursula. If he were alone, he would have let these two women go, but his young protégés would not be satisfied.
During the course of the evening, the older women drank five margaritas each. Pam hung onto Kristoff, while Suzie seemed more interested in Magnus and Ursula.
An Irish band came on stage. The music was atrocious. Magnus was a classically trained musician. He found it difficult to listen to the band butcher their music. Suzie and Pam seemed to enjoy it, or were too drunk to care.
At midnight, Pam suggested they go to her apartment.
Magnus paid the tab and they left the pub. He was an old-fashioned gentleman and would not allow the women to pay. Magnus then met the rest of his party outside.
They walked to Pam’s car, located five blocks away. Normally reserved, Magnus felt the blood inside his veins shimmer.
They walked on the sidewalk past the shops and restaurants. Pam held Kristoff’s strong arm. Ursula and Suzie flanked them on one side, and Magnus on the other. They turned onto a side street. Magnus surveyed the area. It was filled with houses and apartments. The street was otherwise empty.
Coming from behind, Magnus suddenly appeared in front of the two ladies by moving with preternatural speed.
“Wow, how did you do that?” Pam asked.
“This guy is like magic,” Suzie said.
Even Kristoff blinked.
Magnus smiled. “I’m like the wind.”
Suzie gasped when Magnus disappeared.
“I’m here one moment and gone the next.”
Suzie stepped back as if she were dizzy from Magnus disappearing and reappearing. He drew up close until he could feel her hot breath. He listened to her heartbeat and felt the rhythm of her blood flowing through her body. She closed her eyes and leaned in toward him, before running her hands through his wavy blond hair.
“What you feel now is nothing compared to the pleasures I hide,” Magnus said.
Pam momentarily left Kristoff and rubbed her body against Magnus.
“Will you take what we have to give?” Magnus asked. “A pleasure so intense that you will feel like leaping out of your skins and soaring through the heavens. Whatever you have experienced in your life will feel dull in comparison.”
Suzie nodded.
Pam said, “That would be wonderful.”
Suzie lifted her head and looked into the cloudless sky as if inviting him to do with her as he pleased. Magnus opened his mouth and sunk his fangs shallowly into her neck, getting a taste of blood. Not a long swallow or a draught, just a taste. It gave him a rush. Even after all these years, it was a feeling like nothing else. He withdrew and let Suzie fall into Ursula’s arms. Ursula dug her fangs deeper into the skin and drank fully.
Pam did
not turn in shock or revulsion. Instead she had a look of wanting.
As Suzie faded from consciousness and fell into the deep abyss, Magnus drew Pam toward him. “And what of you, my sweet? Would you like what we have given to your friend? Do you want pleasure beyond all else?”
Pam swayed between Magnus and Kristoff. She nodded, a dreamy smile on her face. Magnus grabbed her shoulders and buried his fangs in her throat, closing his eyes and relishing the sweet sensation of blood trickling into his mouth. He would thank Gabriella for persuading him to go out tonight.
As with Suzie, he consumed only a small amount of blood and left the rest for Kristoff. He smiled at their unbridled joy, remembering his early years.
He waited and watched. Before Suzie faded too far, he pulled back Ursula.
“That was intense. I feel like I’m on top of the world.”
Magnus nodded. “So you are. There’s nothing better than human blood.”
Kristoff took several droughts than pulled himself off Pam. He had more restraint than Ursula. Her body wilted. A few moments later, he lowered her to the ground.
“Kristoff, remember that Pam’s blood is more than just for your nourishment, because one day you will no longer need it for sustenance. Instead you’ll need it to give you vitality and a thirst to live. When you get older, that desire can fade. Don’t allow that to happen.”
“I won’t,” Kristoff said.
Magnus looked deep into Suzie’s eyes. “You will not remember meeting the three of us. You and your friend went out and had a fun, chaste, safe evening. You will now be going home.”
Suzie had a distant look. “We had a safe evening. We’re going home now.”
Magnus smiled and did the same to Pam. She seemed as if in a trance. The women walked to their car and left.
Kristoff grinned. “How do you that? Whenever I try, it never works out so easily.”
Magnus put his hand on Kristoff’s shoulder. “It comes with time and experience. These ladies will hardly remember what just happened. They will only have vague, blissful memories. And why did I just glamour these ladies to forget what just happened?”
“To preserve our secrecy,” Ursula replied. “Because humans would not accept our existence and would try to eliminate our kind.”
Magnus nodded. “We must protect ourselves against those who would seek us harm. We are different from them, and they will never accept that.”
Unlike Alexei, these two would never give him problems.
Chapter Eight
Mark Andrews gritted his teeth when he arrived at the murder scene and found Detective Glen Brown conducting the investigation. The last thing he needed was to deal with that cock-sucker. Brown was negligent at best and corrupt at worst. In his various dealings with the Philadelphia Police Department, he learned Internal Affairs had conducted several investigations on Brown for the use of excessive force when questioning witnesses, but he always escaped punishment. Twice, they had investigated him on bribery charges, but in both cases the prosecutor’s office had nothing more than circumstantial evidence. Mark saw enough corruption to discern the good from the bad. Brown wore a badge and represented the law, but he was not one of the good guys.
Nikki Staretz’s fiancée, Enrico Pineda, made the discovery. After calling her numerous times, Pineda contacted one of Staretz’s co-workers, who told him she had not shown up for work or called out sick. According to Detective Brown’s report, Pineda, a construction foreman, finished working and went to a pub to eat dinner. He then drove to the apartment late that evening to find her dead. He called 911, and seventeen minutes later Detective Brown and his partner arrived and took control of the crime scene.
They questioned Pineda in addition to Staretz’s neighbors, but no one could shed light on the murder. Pineda spoke incoherently during questioning. Brown claimed he was a suspect in the homicide, but Mark was certain he had no involvement. The tears he shed were genuine.
Pineda had to be innocent based on the condition of the body. It had been drained of blood. Also, the perp sliced open her abdomen and consumed part of her heart and kidneys. Staretz had been the fourth victim killed this way in over a week. Although there were slight variances in the three crimes, Mark had no doubt the same perp did all three. There were too many glaring similarities. The earlier questioning by the detectives showed that he had no connections to the other victims, as well as solid alibis for the times of the other murders.
Mark did not want to get involved in a serial murder investigation since it was out of his normal scope of operations, but he couldn’t back out now. Initially, he only cared about Johnny Gunns. With this fourth victim, Mark had stumbled on something more important and deadly than the world of organized crime.
Three days ago, he and Rick had investigated the murder of a young Vietnamese woman, Thuy Pham, whose body had been found in a row home in Kensington. Much like Nikki Staretz’s apartment, there were no signs of forcible entrance. Her body exhibited similar drainage of blood and puncture wounds on her neck. Also like Staretz, someone or something had partially consumed her organs.
They searched the entire house. The furniture was undisturbed, and there were no signs of a struggle. The neighbors had not heard anything unusual. The resemblance of the Thuy Pham case to Nikki Staretz was uncanny. The most peculiar thing was that both victims had smiles on their dead faces. They seemed blissful. In neither case was there signs of sexual assault.
Mark was still trying to arrange a meeting with mob boss Enzo Salerno. He had little doubt that Salerno was conducting his own parallel investigation. With Salerno’s resources and connections, he could uncover things law enforcement officials couldn’t.
Over the past few days, Mark sent feelers through his underground network to see if Salerno would accept a sit-down at a neutral territory. Salerno would probably reject a direct contact.
He stared at the corpse. Here she was, dead and drained of blood, yet she seemed perfectly content. No sign of forced entry or a struggle indicated she knew the killer, but why would she allow the perp to puncture her neck?
While other forensic experts and police officers milled about looking for more evidence, Mark sat in the kitchen kicking around ideas in his head. Maybe Staretz had been drugged. He wanted to see the toxicology report. They ran one on Thuy Pham, and she came up negative for drugs or alcohol.
Perhaps these were ritualistic killings. The two victims could have been part of a cult that practiced human sacrifices. That would explain why there was no forced entry or violent resistance, but that did not hold true with Johnny Gunns and Tina Monterullo. Every path he took led him nowhere. He had to get out of his normal mode of thought. Mark was used to dealing with mobsters where everything was calculated and the ultimate purpose was financial gain, power or revenge.
Special Agent Rick Carroll was speaking to Detective Brown. As much as he detested the man, he had to speak with him also.
“That boyfriend, what’s his name, Pinera, he’s got to be behind this,” Brown said. “That sick fucking bastard. I’m going to book him on murder charges.”
“Based on what?” Carroll asked. “Pineda has an alibi and he had no blood on him.”
“You’re going to find his prints all over here,” Brown said.
Mark could no longer take this. “Of course his prints are going to be in the apartment. He was her fiancée, for Christ’s sakes.”
“The guy’s a hothead,” Brown said. “He had probable cause. The neighbors said they fought all the time.”
“Lots of couples fight,” Mark said. “That doesn’t mean he killed her. The similarities to the Pham girl and the Debenedetto and Monterulo murders are too similar. Does he have any connection between them? If so, I’d like to hear it. Any other murders you want to pin on Pineda while you’re at it?”
Brown ground his teeth. Mark almost wanted the detective to take a swing at him.
“What’s your problem? I’m just trying to take another piece of shit off the
street.”
Mark went face to face with him. Nicotine stains covered the man’s teeth. “The kid didn’t do anything. You’re looking for a nice, easy answer to this problem. Arresting Enrico Pineda won’t make it go away. Why don’t you do your job and investigate?”
“You got some kind of nerve coming in here and telling me how to do my job. I don’t care what your badge says.”
Rick Carroll stepped in between them. “This isn’t going to solve anything. Look, Brown, we’re going to talk to the suspect. You have no grounds to arrest him, so I’d strongly suggest you back off. If you find any evidence to substantiate your claims, we would be happy to listen to them. Until then, I strongly advise you not to press charges against the kid.”
Carroll grabbed Mark’s arm and dragged him away.
When they were outside Mark said, “That guy’s a complete asshole. Except he’s an asshole with a badge, which makes him dangerous.”
“Cool it, Mark. The last thing I need is for one of my agents to get into a fistfight with a dick at a murder scene.”
They stepped into Mark’s government issue Chevy Impala. For a while neither said anything. Mark’s mind was troubled with thoughts, theories, and ideas. None seemed plausible.
Before they arrived at the station off Spring Garden Street where Pineda was held for questioning, Carroll asked, “So what are we dealing with here?”
Mark sighed. “The hell if I know.”
“Come on, we’re smart. We have nearly fifty years of Bureau experience between us. You’re telling me we can’t come up with something?”
“You ever hear of victims having their blood drained? I mean completely drained.”