Xairin didn't know. "That I don't know about, but I am sure we can find something. Just a matter of finding a place that serves Immortium."
Jason nodded. "I'm a thirteenth-generation pureblood, I have no problems being able to eat cooked foods, so I can pass for human."
Xairin shook his head, "I can't, vampire, remember?"
"DAMN!" Jason said. "I forgot. Sorry, been a while since I went out on a date. Plus, I’ve never dated a vampire. Only a few humans and another wolf. Speaking of prejudices? Are the prejudices here, that bad?"
Xairin shrugged. "It has been. A lot of Immortium, have been evicted, fired, you name it."
The jeep landed, parking itself in a parking spot between a white truck and a blue hovercycle.
"Shall we?" Jason asked.
Xairin smiled.
Chapter 7.2
The first song, Jason and Xairin heard, had an excellent steady beat to it. It was something easy to dance to. Jason, letting his Alpha nature take over, grasped Xairin's hand, leading him out onto the yellow-lit dance floor. "Man, I haven't danced in a while," Xairin said.
"Define a while? Cause for me, I'm going on thirty years or so, dancing with another person that is. I’m usually guilty of dancing in my cabin all by myself to some rock or R&B." Jason said, honestly.
Xairin shrugged. "Okay, maybe six months, since I last was dancing with another person."
Jason laughed. "Well then, I have you beat, so Mr. Thunder, you are dancing with me?"
"Are you any good at it?" Xairin asked.
Jason pointed at his chest with both hands. "Hey, just because I live out in the country, that does not mean I can't dance." He extended his hand again to Xairin.
Xairin and Jason made it out in the center of the dance floor as they both felt the beat and caught up with everyone else. Xairin was amazed. Dancing, given Jason's sheltered life, dancing was clearly, something that came naturally to Jason. The man had rhythm.
To keep up with Jason as the songs changed, Xairin relied on the pull he received from one of his thralls, the erotic dancer, Allison Davidson. Her moves and ability to adapt to the beats came in handy. Plus, Harvey Dinkler, the guitarist he had pulled from, had some moves too. The combination helped Xairin find his own blend. For the first time in Xairin's life, he was not only keeping up on the dancefloor, but he was also turning heads. He didn't dance slutty, by any means, but alluring undertones were definitely there.
After six songs, Jason was holding Xairin by the waist and very comfortable in moving with Xairin as the two danced. Xairin reciprocated. It was turning Jason on a bit. "Damn, you can move."
Xairin had his back to him, as Jason held Xairin's hips. Xairin leaned into him. "You're pretty good too."
The way Xairin's body pressed against Jason's, had Jason fighting the urge to want to do more with the handsome redhead right then and there. His new Alpha nature was growling inside and Xairin's body, with his hand draped around Jason's neck, and his body pressing and moving, wasn't helping. Jason was getting turned on, more than usual.
"Are you getting thirsty?" Jason asked.
Xairin nodded with a shrug. "I could probably go for B+ Pigs blood if they have it."
Jason needed to stop dancing; he was fighting a bulge and didn't want to be embarrassed or come off too strong and appear that this was all he wanted out of the night. He grabbed Xairin's hand. "I could go for a beer or a twelve pack. You know, werewolf constitution and all."
Xairin wasn't all too comfortable with his dates drinking, but he had to take into account that this wolf had been on a leash for decades, mentally. He decided to cut him some slack. "Sure."
"How many does it take to get a werewolf drunk?" Xairin asked curiously.
"Usually a twelve-pack to get a buzz, a twenty-four pack to get a little tipsy. We burn through it so fast; drinking can be really expensive for a wolf."
"Why not do liquor then?" Xairin asked. He was hoping this guy wasn't an alcoholic werewolf.
"I hate liquor, I don't like how it makes my throat feel, plus it makes me aggressive, and I don't like that."
"So, you're a mean drunk on the hard stuff, then?" Xairin inquired.
Jason shrugged. "I guess so, the reason I don't do it. Now beer, sure, I might try to lighten the mood once a week or so. I'm usually a giggly drunk though, kinda gives my gay side away."
Xairin smirked. He was thankful that Jason wasn’t into hard drinks, he had enough of that with Cale. "I can relate. My favorite drink used to be a long island iced tea before the bat bite. I could go from passingly-straight to flopping my wrists fast enough to have liftoff."
Jason raised his eyebrows and chuckled. "I hear ya."
Jason and Xairin found a booth off to the side. Jason got him a pitcher of draft beer and a mug and got Xairin a forty-two-ounce bottle of a new shipment of a synthetic blood substitute. The bottle reads, "I can't believe it's not hemoglobin." At the bottom, it had in small print on the black label, "Epinephrine, 5%"
Xairin looked at the blood drop on the front that had B+ in the blood drop on the picture and shrugged. "I guess there are a lot of synthetic blood products coming out."
Jason nodded. "I guess so. When I asked about what blood types they had on the menu, the droid gave me a list. I figured since this one had epinephrine added, it would probably taste better."
Xairin twisted the black lid off and took a small sip. "Not bad."
"Xairin, why did you ask me out?"
Xairin crossed his arms right after taking another drink. He looked at Jason. His eyes alone told his sincerity. "I like blond guys or guys with dark brown hair, and well, the chest hair is a thing for me. Plus, I have to admit, seeing you all greased up at work, was kind of hot. You seem like a nice guy, so I figured why not take a chance and put it out there."
Xairin leaned in. "Why did you say yes?"
Jason chuckled and took a full swig of his mug, finishing it in one gulp. "I find you attractive and, well, the same thing, you seem like a nice guy."
Jason took another drink. "You're not the first move's type, are you?"
Xairin took a long gulp from his bottle of synthetic blood before replying with an honest answer and an equally truthful expression on his face. "No, I am 99% that guy that never makes the first move, me asking you out, it was a leap for me."
"I kinda figured that, so why the sudden change then?" Jason asked.
Xairin crossed his arms and leaned forward. "I'm tired of not taking chances. I have always been the sit on the bench guy and hope that someone noticed me and picked me first for a change instead of picking me last because I was all that was left."
Jason looked at Xairin. “How could anyone pick you last?”
Xairin smirked.
Jason extended his beer mug. "Tell you what, to new beginnings, then?"
"I will drink to that!" Xairin said as their drinking containers clang together.
Jason was touched. "I can't believe you think you were the type that was the last to be picked on the bench. I mean, look at you? If you don't mind me saying, man, you're handsome as fuck."
Xairin shrugged. "A few months ago, I had a little bit of a belly, I was out of shape. Thanks to my sensitive gene, it overpowered my dhampling potential for having a perfect six pack. But hey, I never got sick, never broke a bone, so I guess it had some benefits."
Jason smiled and leaned over. "Looks are not always everything Xairin. Most of the guys that attracted me the most, was due to their personality, not their looks." He grabbed Xairin's hand. "I bet you were still handsome as a dhampling."
Across the bar and one floor up, Ezra was looking down at the scene below. His eyes were scanning everyone, as his glasses checked facial recognition data on the mainframe. So far, not a single match based on the imprint he had taken from Xairin. His eyewear did match something though, Xairin's face.
Xairin's face lit up as "Eyewitness to current caseload in progress." In Ezra's glasses. He zoomed them in by pressing the earpie
ce on the left side, the left eye lens zoomed right in on Jason and Xairin smiling at one another. Ezra's heart felt like it was sinking into his stomach.
_____
Sitting in one of the council libraries, Cecilia was looking up the details on what happened to her son. She had to know more; it was haunting her.
She sifted through several news articles as she swiped both left and right on the screen, scanning each one until she found her son's name. She found the article of there being a survivor, Xairin's name was listed, though no other details were given. She decided to read up on the first three victims, the grizzly details had her weeping.
When she got down to number six, the body of Handy Roark, she came to realize the same events in each case. Each body being decapitated, with the heads, never being recovered, along with the rest of the body being dismembered, each arm, each leg, severed from the torso. The bottle, in each case, made her weep even more, but the other details, that started to strike something. She leaned back for a moment while looking at the computer screen.
Cecilia leaned forward again and typed a new search parameter. As she did, Arcaidus spoke. "Is there anything I can assist you with, Cecilia?"
She nodded. "Arcaidus, can you find for me any news articles from the years 2086, to 2088, that mention Detective Draven Thunder, and decapitated bodies found in the Bastion City area? Specifically, any that were reported to be sensitive murders?"
A second later, several news articles popped up on her screen. Cecilia started reading. When she saw that sensitives were targeted, and the decapitation and dismemberment, it reminded her of a case that her late husband was working, a case that went cold. She found the article she was looking for.
"Detective Draven Thunder, one of the first sensitive agents for Interpol, remains stumped in what could possibly be a serial murder. Four women, also sensitives, have been found murdered, with remains, to say the least, were grim in the details." According to reporter Annie Jetson. Cecilia continued reading. "Four bodies, each one, found decapitated with the heads still unaccounted for. Their arms and legs have been found severed. So far, the lead agent on the case, Detective Thunder has yet to comment. I also attempted to speak with his human partner, Agent Polanski, he also declined to comment. The droid counterpart refused to acknowledge questioning as well."
The next article was titled. "Interpol Still stumped, no justice for Sensitive women murdered." Cecilia skimmed through it. Her husband's name came up several times. A third article dated a year later, declared the case a cold case. No leads ever surfaced. The last article, "No justice continues for Patty Simmons, Loraine Hoskins, Debbie Levale, and Yin Takashi."
Cecilia sat back in her seat and caressed her cheek with her left hand as she looked forward. "Polanski, god, I hated that gluttonous asshole."
"Arcaidus, do you have access to Interpol's mainframe, and can you get me the file that Draven was working on in regard to the four women that were killed.?"
Two seconds later, "I do not, and have contacted Eve, my sister program, she has informed me that there is no file that can be found."
"That's not possible." She said.
"Eve assures me that there are no files in Interpol's database pertaining to four women, sensitives, being either a cold case or attached to Draven Thunder's known caseloads." He paused. "I took the liberty to scan the documents you requested."
Cecilia scoffed. "That's not possible, Arcaidus. I remember my husband working on those cases. I know they went cold, which means that they would be in data storage. Have Eve check again."
He replied. "Eve has full access to Interpol and allowed me the opportunity to run a file check as well. Detective Thunder had nine hundred and ninety-two cases logged into their database, none of which mention the names of the women reported in your articles, or sensitive murders that he was investigating that correlate to decapitation or bodily dismemberment."
Cecilia scoffed. "Then that would mean since there is still a public record in the global alliance's news records, and the fact that my husband's case is nowhere to be found, that can only mean someone has deleted it from the mainframe."
Arcaidus took a second to reply. "I have come to the same conclusion. I have also taken the liberty of running a case file check with other townships and cities within the Global Alliance's database. There are other principalities in which no case file with previous law enforcement agencies can be located to correspond to a dated news file in two other cities in which sensitive murders involving decapitation were reported in the news."
He paused. "These areas were before Interpol absorbed all law enforcement districts."
"What?" Cecilia asked.
"Braxton City, and New Orleans, both have news files dating back to 2082 and 2083 in New Orleans. The combined death count is nine females, ages 20-36, the only common denominator reported is that they each were sensitives."
Cecilia sat back. "So, you're telling me that twelve women total, each a sensitive, were found in the same condition as the gay men being murdered in Bastion City today?"
"Correct and law enforcement files have been deleted. Eve has confirmed numerical voids between case numbers in each location, with the exception of Bastion City. It is clear that whoever is behind this, didn't think to attempt to remove news files, that or they were unable to access it. Given the time frame between the twelve murders, and Bastion City's current situation, I deduce that if the twelve are linked with today, then the original perpetrator waited for people to potentially forget about the older cases, and has likely recruited aid, given the current body count." Arcaidus stated.
"The similarities between the two events, include, dismemberment, and the victim’s heads never being recovered. Each body has been found in a sewer system, indicating that the murderer wanted to defile the bodies, and put them in a place to further indicated the views that they harbor for sensitives. The original killings are likely the result of a heterosexual male, who hunted female sensitives, and today, it is likely that he has recruited, and changed tactics, looking for those that have a reason to hate sensitives. Based on the brutality, and the condition of the bodies, you are looking for a trophy collector, the heads are likely his reward. A religious fanatic is where you should start looking. He would have access to Interpol's files, meaning he is likely Interpol, while his network of underlings have various skills to help him maintain what I would call, modern-day witch-hunting."
Cecilia sat back and looked off to the side. "Draven said that some of the forensic evidence had gone missing in each of his cases with the four women's deaths that he was investigating." She sighed. "Do you really think these twelve victims from almost over a decade ago, are related?"
"Yes, Cecilia, I do. Based on how the bodies were left and displayed, you are either dealing with a copycat or someone that never was caught and has begun recruiting others to help him carry out his work."
Arcaidus spoke again. "Body count has increased to sixteen. A small township in what was known as Maine has other victims dating from 2080. The same scenarios are at play. Eve just located additional News files."
Cecilia looked at her computer screen as Arcaidus displayed them for her. "Were there any witnesses at all?"
Arcaidus spoke. "One, a homeless man was interviewed saying that he noticed a hooded figure identified as being possibly overweight being seen carrying a severed head of a woman out of a sewer, holding the head by red hair. According to the news file, the same homeless man, Cedro Dingrick, was later found dead, dying of carbon monoxide poisoning in a sewer utility room just a day after his interview. No other leads are being identified at this time."
"Were any of the victims in Maine redheaded?" Cecilia asked.
"Two, Loraine Newman and Jessica Potterski."
"Arcaidus, continue looking for any file that you think may be relevant, see if Eve will cooperate, and do the same. Let me know the moment anything else turns up."
"Understood."
Since Draven's death, C
ecilia had never moved on. She couldn't. After losing him, Rileigh, Scott, and in several ways Xairin, she couldn't bear the thought of losing anyone else again. Now, knowing what her son had been through, Cecilia owed him and owed her husband. Draven was the love of her life, not a day had gone by, that she didn't remember how much she loved him, and how good of a man he was. She remembered him working that case, day and night, beating his head at every turn when a lead ended up cold, and when his case file was declared a cold case, she remembered how he grieved over it. She remembered that the murders just stopped, and a few years later, Draven coming home, punching a wall. When she asked him what was wrong, she remembered him saying. "My case was just listed as a cold file."
Cecilia knew what she had to do. Over the years, she had paid for a storage unit where all of her belongings, as well as Draven and their children's things, had been stored, stored under an alias. She needed to go to that storage unit. Draven kept paper copies of every case he ever worked.
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