A Vampire Killing

By Kayla Gayle

Bad title, but I am really bad at titles. If anyone has any suggestions for a better one, please let me know. 

I am an Immortal Beloved without a Nick/Janette story to my name. Sigh. So in answer to an inquiry from Kristin's email, here goes.

Archive at any known site—I give full permission.

They do not belong to me; they will never belong to me.

Timeline is somewhere in my beloved season 2.

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Part the First

The crime scene was gruesome. A woman had been killed and raped, her blood drained from her. Her entrails were hanging out from where the murderer stabbed her. Her older son was found in the hallway in the same condition. Bloody footprints led to the kitchen where a blender was red and blood spattered. A Dixie cup, with a blackish congealed substance stood next to it.

An infant's hat, smeared with blood as well was found by the door, with more red footprints leading down the path and over the lawn.

Donald Schanke, a balding 30ish detective with the Toronto Metropolitan Police, stood looking at the baby's hat. He was a father to a pre-adolescent girl and the missing baby was a female. It made him sick just thinking of it. He looked over at his blonde haired partner, who was not taking the blood at the scene well at all.

The blond detective, Nick Knight, was not taking the blood well. The scent of it was everywhere, for the house had been robbed as well. He had an almost overwhelming urge to lick up the blood sitting in the cup.

He took a few deep breaths to push his teeth back into place and to have his eyes some semblance of a color found in humans.

Schanke walked over to his partner.

"Seems like the same MO as the other scene last month. Family slaughtered, blood drinking at the scene. The only difference is that one member is missing."

"They haven't found the baby yet, then?"

"No, just blood in her playpen and a bonnet. Crime lab's taking casts of the shoeprints."

They heard a sound and looked around as Natalie Lambert came into the room with her medical bag and looked around her.

"Christ," she exclaimed. "This is worse than the last one."

"He's getting more violent that's for certain."

"Well, I best be getting to work," she told the two men as she went to kneel by the body of the boy.

Nick walked over to her.

"So, how long?"

She took the long thermometer out of the stomach of the victim.

"By liver temperature, I would say not more than an hour at the most."

He looked around, having to get away from the blood. He found Schanke talking to the husband of the slain women.

"I came home early today. We were supposed to go to the movies. The door was open so I walked in and…." The man, dressed in his municipal workers uniform broke down.

Nick looked outside where a crowd had gathered, as well as several news vans. It was only around 9pm, early enough to make the news.

A woman, in her late 50's, came up to the tall detective.

"Detective Knight? I was told to speak with either you or Detective Schanke."

"Yes, I'm Nick Knight," said he, holding out his hand.

"Bernice Woodman. I live across the street and I saw the gentleman who did this."

"How?"

"A few hours ago, a strange young man was on my porch trying to get into my house. I didn't let him in because of his rather peculiar appearance. He had on an old jacket—one of those you see homeless people wearing and ratty jeans. His face was rather lean and pockmarked. He looked ill, in fact. After a while of knocking, he just gave up and sat on my porch swing. I told him through the window that I was calling the police and he just gave me a blank sort of stare and then sauntered off."

"So how do you know this is the same person?" asked Nick, excitement mounting in him. This was the first solid lead they had.

"Because I saw the same man lurking around Sarah's home here. I was about to call the police when I noticed him walk away. I figured he had left, but I saw him again about an hour ago and he was walking down the street with a bundle in his arms. I picked up the phone to dial the police and saw Stanley come driving down the street. I thought everything was fine."

Bernice began to cry then. Nick put an arm around her and motioned over a uniformed officer.

"Take Mrs. Woodman here to the station and have her talk to a sketch artist. If we could come up with a description, we might be able to catch the s.o.b."

"Sure, Knight," said the patrolman as he led the weeping woman away. He was watching this when another officer came up to him and handed him something. He looked at it hard, turning it over and over in his hand.

"Schank? I'll be back. I have to check on something."

Schanke, through with the husband, came up to him.

"Partners, remember? What do you have to check up on?"

"That woman who just left came up with a lead and Officer Devalle handed me another."

He handed it to Schanke. They were wearing gloves so they wouldn't disturb any prints. The balding detective whistled low.

"Do you think?" he asked.

"That's what I need to know."

So saying, he walked out the door and away from the bloody home. Nat came up to Schanke.

"Where's he going?"

"You know Mr. Independent. He's off on a lead." The detective grinned. "Some guys have to stomach for this grisly stuff."

Don walked off to do some more poking around while Nat just stood there at the window.

"He never even said goodbye," she whispered softly.