What was it about the night that called to the soul? Was it the cool breeze that whispered its secrets to you as it slid across your face? Or was it the promise of another day? Maybe one better than the previous.
For me, I've always thought of the night as an adventure. A thrill. The thought that that night might in fact be my last caused adrenaline to pump through my veins. The thrill of the hunt stimulated both my mind and my predatory instincts.
My name is Rowena Jane McCoy. No relation to the famous McCoys, if you were wondering. Both my friends and my enemies call me RJ, though I hate the nickname with a fiery passion.
I passed a very cute guy on the streets of New York City. He sent me an inviting smile which I returned in kind. He was human. Too bad. Not that I had anything against humans. No, they sometimes had a problem against girls like me. Guys tended to be turned off when they found out that their girlfriend was one-quarter vampire and sometimes liked to nibble on their necks. It didn't help that while they aged I continued to stay young and healthy. Thanks, Grandma.
I did not stop and try to strike up a conversation, I was running late for work. Normally, that wouldn't bother me any other day of the week, but I've been ordered to show up tonight. That could only mean one thing: I had an assignment. Excitement had gotten me out of bed at dusk instead of sleeping till ten as I usually did.
When I passed him, I felt the weight of good ol' boy's gaze on my ass. With a smile, I put a little more of a sway in my hips. Just to show off. I do have a very nice ass. It should be appreciated to the fullest.
I stopped in front of one of New York's night hot dog stands. I was a regular here at George's Dogs. I usually packed away two of George's dogs before heading into the office.
George greeted me with a smile, "Hey, RJ. I've already gotten your usual ready for ya." He reached down and pulled out two tinfoil wrapped hot dogs. "Here ya go. Two dogs with extra mustard and chili. Just the way you like it."
I barely managed to keep myself from drooling. I was starving. I accepted the dogs and paid the man, "Thanks, George."
George propped his arms on the stand and studied me with his green eyes twinkling. When I lifted a brow in question with the first dog halfway devoured, the smile under George's red mustache flashed impishly. "When are you going to come to your senses and marry me, RJ? We can elope to Puerto Rico."
I chuckled at that. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to lure me away to Puerto Rico. "I've already told you , George. I have to be free to let the men of the world enjoy me. I can't be chained to one man." I flicked the top of the Yankees cap he wore just enough to expose his pointed ears, "Or goblin."
He tugged down the cap with a grin that was full of sharp, pointy teeth, "Hey! I'm only half Goblin!"
I just smiled in reply.
George let out an exaggerated, heartfelt sigh and clutched at his chest, "You're breaking my heart, RJ."
I shrugged, "It happens. I'll see you tomorrow night, George." I continued my journey to the office.
When I passed a Starbucks, I couldn't resist rushing in and ordering a tall Java Chip Frappachino. I sipped at it as I hurried down the sidewalk. I detested hot coffee. The cold stuff was my personal drug of choice.
Finally, I reached the office. It wasn't anything spectacular. The Non Human Police Force was fairly new. Ten years to be precise. Thus, it wasn't well-funded much to my aggravation.
NHPF headquarters rests in an old business building with only about five stories. It sorely needed some life breathed into it. The Chief had immediately rejected my suggestion that they should paint the building purple. I thought he had been too stingy. The building looked almost abandoned save for the lights glowing through the windows. It wasn't perfect, but it was home.
I checked my watch and grimaced a little. Midnight. My chat with George and my coffee cravings had caused me to be fifteen minutes late. The Chief wouldn't be too happy with me.
I shrugged it off. It wasn't the first time I'd been late. Actually, I was usually much later than this so I think it would be alright.
I made my way into the building and to the elevator. The inside was not much of an improvement from the outside of the building. The tile that had been originally white was now tan with age. The lights from the ceiling cast the hallway in a yellowish glow. Though police officers in uniforms hurried down the halls and despite the persistent shrill of the a telephone the hallway seemed an abandoned wasteland.
I responded cheerfully to the greetings as the heels of my black boots clicked down the hall. Unlike the other officers, I wasn't in the blue uniform. I liked leather. Maybe it was the vampire in me that adored the color black, but that was what I wore most days. Other than the rare occasions when I arrived on the job in my pink skull pajama shorts and a large t-shirt with Hello Kitty on it (I kept an extra pair of pink bunny slippers in my office), I had my own uniform. Leather high-heeled boots, which I preferred because it made me taller and more intimidating than my own five feet and five inches. Tonight I'd chosen a tight black t-shirt and had thrown my leather jacket over it. Instead of my usual black leather pants, I'd decided on dark, tight jeans.
All the black, including the mass of midnight curls that fell to my waist, made my skin seem paler than it actually was. Why not? Vampires were supposed to be pale, right? I would have liked for my eyes to have been black too. Just to keep that hard-ass image. But I was okay with the smoky grey color they were.
I tapped my toe as I waited for the elevator to climb to the fifth floor. I was anxious tonight. It had been a while since I'd been asked for specifically and I was itching for some action.
I waved at the Chief's secretary Julia. The ghost girl smiled at me and went back to her work.
Without knocking, I let myself into Chief Howard Granger's office.
Howard Granger had once been a college football star at Ohio State before his family had been attacked and killed by vampires nearly twenty years ago. At the age of forty-three, he still kept himself in excellent shape. He had the size and the physique of an athlete and the buzz cut of one as well. His skin was nicely tanned and his blue eyes scowled at me as I planted myself in the chair across from him.
"You're late," he said gruffly.
"And?" I responded just as gruffly.
He shook his head and retrieved a single file from the stack on his desk and tossed it in front of me. "That's your next assignment."
I eagerly snatched up the folder and opened it on his desk and studied it carefully. I frowned at what I read and looked up at him, "Serial murders?"
The Chief reached over and tapped on one word in the report that his organized self had highlighted: Vampire.
"But it doesn't say who." When the Chief nodded I groaned, "You mean I've got to find out who it is before I kill him? I hate playing detective, Chief. Can't you just get somebody else to work this case? When you find out who it is, I'll gladly kill him."
My boss's face was impassive, but his eyes glittered with amusement. He was glad I was unwilling to do it. The bastard.
"This guy has already slaughtered twelve people, RJ. I want my best man to catch him as quickly as possible and get him off the streets. That's you."
Because it was true, except for the man part that is, and I couldn't argue I folded my arms over my chest and pouted, "Fine. But I won't like it."
The Chief smiled a little, obviously enjoying my sulking. "Noted. Now, go and get your stuff and get to work."
I grumbled but left his office, the file tucked safely under my arm. Julia laughed silently at the look on my face. She was one of those ghosts that couldn't speak. How she was an affective secretary and had managed to keep the job for ten years escaped me.
I ignored her and made my way down the hallway towards my office.
The door had The Hunters painted in red on the glass. It had been my idea.
The Hunters had been established a few years after NHPF had been. When some of the monsters had kept right on killing while ignoring the newly placed laws, it had been apparent that they needed to be taken care of. That's where we come in. Me and my other four associates-okay, they're my friends too-are experts in different creatures of the dark. Me? I'm the Vampire Slayer. Ironic, isn't it?
My appetite returned so the first thing I did once I walked through the door was go to the snack machine. I chose a Snickers bar and gleefully unwrapped it and dug in.
Willow Parker gave me a disgusted look as she glided elegantly by me. "How can you eat so much and never get fat?"
This by-play had been exchanged many times before, but I decided to roll with it. I smiled, "Good genes."
Her mouth curled up in a smile. Willow was half elf and it was totally obvious. Even without the pointy ears, her emerald-green eyes and her waist length, ridiculously straight, pale blonde hair were dead giveaways. Willow dealed in all things Faerie. Though she was soft-spoken, she could easily kill you in seconds. Tinkerbell she was not. I respected the hell out of her for that.
Her eyes went to the folder in my hand, "New case?"
I nodded and let her read it, "Serial killer."
Her expression was calm as she scanned the contents but her eyes sparkled with interest, "Intriguing."
I laughed. It had been awhile since a Faerie crime had occurred and Willow was just as antsy as I. The half-breed was just better at hiding it than me.
Willow sighed with what might have been envy and handed the case file back to me, "I'll let you get to it then." She strolled away and disappeared into her office. I always envied the way she seemed to float everywhere.
Before I was ready to "get to it", I needed to hunt up our resident geek.
