( Sequel to Dark of Night, takes place 14 months later...)
Some bloody immortality this was turning out to be, Davy mused. Alone, in the night, engulfed in the smells and noises of the city around him, he took stock of his present situation. His friends were no longer a haven of refuge. Together for nearly 100 years, each man seemed to be drifting further into his own realm. Mike walked the fine line between the world of the night and the domestic partnership he shared with his mortal wife Mira. Peter was erratic, not unlike a hormonal human teen; Micky was...well, ol' reliable Micky was strangely absent these days, probably taken up with another one his 'girlfriends'.
Of late, no one was getting along. Tonight, on rising to feed, the house had been broiled in tension between the formerly close knit vampire clan. Mike and Mira's foster daughter, Fiona, had been asked to the Junior Prom, which threw her and Mira into the flurry of dress shopping and jewelry matching madness modern women adored. However, Peter, who had staked his claim on the teenager years ago, was furious, insisting his Fiona not be allowed to go anywhere with another male. He had even gone so far as to snarl at Mira, which was damn foolish as far as Davy was concerned. The Brethren had nothing on Mike's wife in a temper. Before her husband could intercede, Mira had stood nose to nose with the younger blond vampire.
"You listen here, Peter. That kid has had a hard life and this prom is the first thing she's been excited about since moving in. School hasn't been easy and she's still finding her way. If you think I'm going to let you pull that alpha male crap and take her first date away from her...."
I am well aware of the difficulty in her adjustment. However, she is mine and I will not allow other males to touch her, Peter responded, the veiled threat clear in his telepathic voice.
That had been days ago and now at their sleeping house, away from Mira's apartment, the tension still hung over them. Mike was angry and on edge, defending his wife and foster child. Peter was morose and petulant, the wait for the girl to become an adult nearly unhinging him. Micky had the right idea, Davy decided, fleeing the place from sundown til before sunrise and avoiding everyone all together. Which left him, Davy, the only one who seemed content to eat and hunt and exist simply as what he was, a vampire.
Rubbing his temples, Davy wished for the good old days to return, the happy times they had lived before women and 17 year old girls and hormonal vampire puberty had hit their world like a tornado. Turning his attention back to the summer street nightlife, he halfheartedly scanned for an easy meal.
That's when he saw..those legs. The longest tanned expanses of skin, and as his gaze travelled upward, the rest of her was just as stunning. She was wearing a miniskirt that had to be illegal but it was only slightly bigger than her cleavage straining top. Defying gravity and every man's lust, her impressive er, gifts, were barely covered and her toned midrift was totally bare. When she sauntered under the glow of a neon saw sign, Davy discovered she was blond, with long hair that hung past her shoulders. Dinner suddenly became appealing again. Shifting away from the anonymity of the shadowed night, the British man blended into the crowds of happy bar hoppers meandering the street. Several other enticingly clad women moved about the traffic of bodies but Davy's focus was trained on the blond. She was hard to miss, a tall amazon, at least 6 foot in his estimation. He hoped she tasted as delicious as she looked. Perhaps he would slake his other appetites tonight as well. Other men of his kind did not seem capable of sex with mortal females but Davy had never had any problem doing so. Vampires were strange about their rules over that sort of thing, so he kept his promiscuity to himself.
When he was close enough to smell her luscious flowery skin, he brushed a finger down her bare arm. The woman gasped and spun around to face him. Surprise dissolved on her features and she flashed him a sultry grin. "Hello," she said.
" 'Ello, yourself, beautiful. Waiting for someone?" Not that it mattered to him. Within a few minutes, he'd be getting his way....
Her green eyes went over his body, from head to toe. Being short frustrated him all throughout his mortal life but as a vampire it served wonderfully for conveying "I'm not a threat". She wet her lips and leaned closer. "I was waiting for you. What sounds good tonight, cutie?"
Ah, so it was like that was it? Davy couldn't believe his luck; she seemed more than eager. "I was thinking of ducking into some place private and enjoying the company of a beautiful woman."
"I think that can be arranged." She feathered his hair away from his forehead. "But it'll cost you. Can you pay?"
He had no idea what she was talking about, these modern girls and their verbal foreplay. But right now, he'd swear he was the Pope if it got them alone. "Yea sure. So you interested then?" When she nodded, Davy reached for her hand.
What happened next, he would never fully be able to explain to himself later on. Vampires each had their own special gift, not unlike people, and his had been speed. So it defied reason that with his accelerated abilities, having gathered the woman's consent, he should suddenly find his arm yanked behind him as his chest was thrown to the ground. Before he was even flat on the pavement, the woman had her knee dug into his back and bearing her full weight down on him. "What the bloody--?"
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." The flirty sweet voice was now all business and perversely Davy found it almost hotter. He liked women who liked to call the shots.
"As much as I like playing rough, love, I have to ask what the fuck you're doing?", Davy asked around a mouth of dirt and gravel.
"Shut up, perp. You're under arrest for soliciting prostitution." She sat up and yelled, "DEACON!"
Prostitution? He had done no such thing! "I wasn't trying to hire...."
Davy saw a huge black giant of a man in uniform rushing over. Now was not the time to explain his actions. "Good work, Officer Hill." the man barked.
"You got it on tape?" the blond asked.
"It's all here. Once he's mirandized, I'll run him downtown." The male cop pulled Davy to his feet. "No more fun tonight, Hobbit."
All right, Davy had had enough. It was one thing to have that goddess manhandle him, but having the black Rambo tease him about his height was his limit. Time to put that speed to use. Years of honing his skill had taught Davy that he didn't necessarily need strength; catching someone off guard with the force of his quickness could usually dislodge him from a bigger and stronger opponent. Handcuffs were a silly device that even a novice vamp could his hands and compressing them together, Davy slid the restraining metal from his wrists, making sure SuperCop wasn't watching. And he wasn't; his captors were engrossed in congratulating each other.
"Damn fine work, Cassie."
The amazon called Cassie beamed. "Thanks Sargeant Chenoweth. I was so nervous..."
Her superior officer shook his head. "Couldn't tell. Take 5 and we'll set up shop over on Brunswick Avenue."
"Tha's a lovely plan, hope it works for ya." Davy snapped up and grabbed the female officer's chin in his hand laying a loud and messy smooch right smack on her lips. Much too soon for his liking it was over and she was sputtering her outrage. Davy tossed the metal handcuffs straight towards the big male policeman and as the cop instinctively reached up to catch them, the shorter Brit dove around him and took off in a burst of instant motion.
"Freeeze!" he heard Officer Hill yell.
You must be joking, Davy smirked to himself. There was still time to eat but any other female would taste bland after that brief kiss from Officer Hill. Her lips had been soft and yielding, not expecting his sudden one brief instant, his tongue had brushed hers and the sweet flavor of her gum, mingled with the darker spicier essence of the woman herself, had been intoxicating. There was another matter, too, Davy grumbled mentally. A man had his pride; over 300 years old now, he should have known better, his instincts should have gone off with bells and whistles. Using those fantastic legs and that heavenly body, she had bested him. Pride demanded satisfaction and armed with only her name, he decided he would he would get that gorgeous blond back.
*
The perp was gone. No sight of his retreating back, no flicker of movement across the parking lot. The British culprit dashed away and within 10 feet he disappeared. Her first bust was a flop. Cassie shoved both hands into her hair and blew out a frustrated breath. So many weeks busting her ass to get off the beat and worked up to Vice and her initial arrest escaped. More than a place on Vice was on the line here for Cass; as a rookie and a female, she had to try twice as hard to prove her ability. And good work in Vice for a couple years could fast track her opportunity to get into Narcotics or even, dare she hope!, Homicide.
Sargeant Chenoweth jogged back over to Cassie. He had taken off running after the criminal but it was to no avail. "Dammit, Hill, who taught you how to cuff?" he growled and flung his hat to the street.
Great, this was how he was going to blame her. Three more fellow officers, dressed in street clothes for the sting, dashed over. "Those cuffs were on tight, Sarge. I've worked beat for 3 years. I know what I'm doing."
"Bullshit, Hill. He was off and running as soon as I got him to his feet." He turned to the other male cops. "You believe this shit? Get me Amy or Kate out here in gear. Tell rookie to hit the showers." he said with out even glancing back at Cassie.
As the group broke up, Cassie heard one of the other men snidely ask, "She must suck dick better than she cuffs or they wouldn't have forced us to take her." Laughter and snickers floated over to where the dejected female cop stood. Of all the insults, that particular one never failed to piss her off. People assumed any career advance, any special commendation for her work was based on her looks. Or worse, they whispered that she had slept her way into the department or into any recognition.
That asshole, she fumed, back in the empty women's locker room. This was his fault; she'd set the trap and he'd jumped right in. She'd nailed Mr. Blimey Spot O' Tea and his ass should have been sitting in a cell at that very minute. Chenoweth would complain to anyone who would listen and her coworkers would now treat her worse, assuming that it had been her error and she really didn't deserve her place on Vice. All because of some little pervert contortionist and his damned Olympic sprinting.
"HILL", a male voice bellowed followed by loud banging on the metallic locker room door.
Recognizing the voice Lt. Michael Palma's voice, Cass shouted back, "Just me in here, Mike. C'mon in."
The older man, dressed in rumpled shirt and tie, was her friend and her only ally. While her family and other cadets had rolled their eyes at the Barbie blond in their midst, the Lieutenant had recognized her drive and her talent behind the looks. Privately Cass believed the higher ranking officer's help and kindness might come from the resemblence she shared with his deceased daughter, the victim of a drunk driver. But in a hostile station he had stood up for her and convinced Chenoweth's Vice team that she deserved a shot. So she couldn't feel anything but grateful that he was on her side. Michael glanced around nervously and seeing no other women, heaved a sigh of relief and plunked down and the warped old bench. From his less than enthused expression, it was obvious he had all ready heard. "What happened out there, Cass?"
Drawing a deep breath, the rookie cop struggled for words. "I nailed a potential john but... he did this... trick or something and got outta the cuffs. Chenoweth threw a fit and said it was because I didn't restrain him properly."
Michael waved his hand. "Look, I don't even care that the dirtbag got away. Small time crap like that isn't the issue here. Deacon's made plain and clear that you're so inept, you bungled even the simplest of tasks." Her mentor never beat around the bush and any other time, his frank honesty would mean a lot. "Dammit, Cass, he wants you moved and he's going to get his way." When she began to argue, he held up a hand to stop her. "If it was just him, I could ignore the complaints but he's got his whole team on board and I'll be lucky if I can squeak you by without a disciplinary hearing."
All that hard work...gone. Tears welled up in her eyes but Cass would not give in. "Great. Geesh." She slammed her locker shut. "Should have just gone out with the jerk and played nice. Then at least I'd have a chance."
"Don't say that, kiddo---"
"Well everyone assumes it all ready, Mike. Might as well just do it and get the benefits." Cassie sunk down to the floor, sitting so that her elbows rested on her knees. "Nevermind, I'm...tired. Don't know what I'm saying."
Michael stood up. "Chill for a few days, gal. I know how hard this hurts but it's going to work in your favor. I'm sending you back to your old beat but this time, you'll technically be doing some snooping for homicide."
Instantly, Cass perked up. Michael unfurled a rolled up sheet and handed it to her. "We got some nutjob out there that thinks hes a vampire. Found our third victim today, drained of blood. This guy in the shot, he's been spotted with all three victims."
The photo was a grainy black and white surveillance camera image, frame frozen and captured at the moment a young man appeared to be in conversation with a dark haired female. A chill ran down Cass's spine. She had seen that face only hours ago....oh dear god. She clamped her eyes shut. Had she let a murderer go free?